Monday, February 21, 2011

Sunday sermon- "Jesus Meets a Captive Man"

Evil is real. The biggest error made by politicians, philosophers, and social scientists today is a belief that humanity is essentially good and can get better, along with a corollary belief that evil is just the result of people not knowing how to do what is right. "If only we could educate the masses better!" they cry. "Then we could create our utopia!"

When we see Jesus at work in Mark 5:1-20, we see a confrontation with real evil. The demons represent the kingdom of Satan trying to keep control away from Jesus. In this case, the demons are themselves the problem; in other situations, especially in our world today, Satan and his forces work behind the scenes to promote and encourage evil. In either case, the evil is real.

This should make us stop and think. As those who believe on Jesus, we confront evil every day. It may be someone battling an addiction that resulted from poor choices. It may be people in positions of power who attempt to hold down those underneath them. It may be miserable people chained to a job, a relationship, a group that keeps them from realizing who they are in God's sight. Just as the man in our story was controlled by an evil spirit, many today are controlled by evil desires. When we look at our world, we are overwhelmed by the extent of evil.

The story does not end there, of course. Jesus demonstrates that He has power over evil. For all the demonic pleading, they were subject to the Master of all creation. Even their attempt to remain in the area by entering the herd of pigs failed. (I wonder if the pigs sensed the presence of the demons, and reacted instinctively to escape their power at any cost.) Jesus brings peace out of strife, order out of chaos, and redemption out of oppression.

Perhaps the saddest part of this story is the reaction of the townspeople. At least one had just suffered a substantial loss (depending on how many owners there were of the herd), and I think that had a large impact on their view of Jesus. Sure, He had power over demons, and He had made that crazy man down by the tombs right again, but He also upset the way things were in the town. They chose to ask Jesus to leave rather than risk more changes they might not foresee. (The fact that Jesus was a Jewish rabbi in a Gentile region probably didn't help.)

How do we react to Jesus today? Do we ignore Him and struggle under the burden of evil? Do we see His power but decide we don;t want our lives changed, that the risk is too great? Or, like the man who was released, do we desire to follow Jesus and to spread the word about Him wherever we go?

Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Return of Marcion

OK, not exactly. But there certainly are parallels between what Marcion did back in the second century and what is done by many today. (One of the reasons I find the second century so fascinating is the connections that can be seen between the way Christians interacted with their culture then and the way we need to interact with our culture now.) Marcion, who ended up labelled as a heretic, would actually fit well in some seminaries of the 21st century.

Marcion is of course best known for his attempt to produce a canon of Scripture that fit what he saw as the truth. He found the concept of God in the Old Testament and that of God in the New as incompatible. In order to salvage Christianity, Marcion had to reshape the Bible. While the New Testament books were circulating at that time, the Old Testament was still the primary Scriptures of the church. To Marcion, this was unacceptable, and he set about to "correct" this.

First, he totally rejected the Old Testament. In doing so, he had to propose another source as the definitive Scriptures of the church. He took Luke, the gospel most closely associated with Paul (and, perhaps not coincidentally, written by a Gentile), and ten of Paul's epistles as his canon. Even these books required editing to remove their Jewish elements. Each of these books was already circulating in the church, and were widely accepted (in their original form).

This situation was untenable to the orthodox church, and the formalization of the accepted canon of Scriptures began to take place. Although a final canon would not be definitively established for another 200 years or so, the New Testament as we have it today was largely accepted as canonical shortly after Marcion's time, and it was given equal status with the Old Testament as God's Word.

So how does this match what we see today? There are many who still attempt to create a canon of Scripture for themselves from what has been the Bible of the church. This generally involves the rejection of certain passages or even books whose teachings the modern churchgoer wants to ignore. While they may not go to the extreme of removing these passages physically, they effectively "de-canonize" certain Scriptures by refusing to acknowledge them as authoritative for us today. In doing so, they make for themselves a Bible that teaches what they want it to teach, and lines up nicely with what our society and culture teach as well.

There are also those who still teach that the God of the OT and the God of the NT are radically different. Rather than moving in a Gnostic direction, as Marcion did, contemporary "splitters" speak in evolutionary terms of the development of religion, and of the progress of faith from primitive superstition to ethical purity. The net effect is the same, however; Jesus is given a makeover into a 21st century teacher of ethics and love far removed from the real picture we have of Him in the Bible, and God is removed from His throne and placed outside of our experience.

My opinions, of course, are not those of allegedly "mainstream" Christian scholarship. I admit that I am often suspicious of scholarship that finds that what is in the Bible and what a society teaches happen to line up perfectly. This isn't just a function of our era; this has happened many times throughout the history of the church, even back in its earliest days. I think that the hard work of studying the Bible and working out not only its meaning but its application for today provides a much more rewarding and challenging experience than finding ways to make the Bible match what we already believe. The difficulty is, of course, in acknowledging that God is indeed on His throne, and that what we find may require us to change our lives to be more like Him.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Sunday sermon-"Jesus Meets an Accomplished Man"

It's a curious phrase, tucked into the middle of the story of the man commonly called the "rich young ruler." In Mark 10:21 , we read that after the man had told Jesus he had kept the commandments since his youth "Jesus looked at him and loved him." The answer that followed would not have been viewed as loving by either the Jews of the first century for whom wealth was seen as a sign of God's blessing, nor by a modern Western audience who would think a loving answer would have been something affirming. How could Jesus love this man, yet tell him to give up everything and follow Him?

This is where understanding a truly Biblical concept of love makes a difference. In our society, we tend to think of love in terms of emotional response. We "fall in love" when we are carried away with our passion. We love someone if  we think of them fondly and feel good about them. When those emotional responses dry up, we feel fully justified in moving on to the next "love."

Jesus' love wasn't rooted in emotion, but in wanting this young man to realize fully who he was in God's eyes. That could not happen as long as he had his wealth in the pace God should be. Jesus knew that in order to realize himself fully he had to let go of the lesser, temporary consolations of wealth in favor of the genuine, eternal love of God. The love of Jesus would not allow this man to walk away with a vague feeling of success when he was truly in desperate need.

I think that we often let ourselves think that the way to respond lovingly to those who do not know Jesus is to make them feel OK about whoever or whatever they value, and to allow them to think that as long as they live a decent, sincere life they'll be all right. That isn't love. It may well be warm and fuzzy, and it may give us the approval of our society, but it isn't love. Love tells the truth even when it is hard and uncomfortable. Love is not needlessly harsh; Jesus didn't berate the man about his love of wealth, nor make a spectacle of him. Jesus simply laid the reality of the choice he had to make before him, knowing that this young man understood the repercussions.

The man chose, and obviously was disappointed by the choice he had to make. He wanted success on earth and in heaven on his own terms. Jesus offered eternal life, but on Jesus' terms. Notice that Jesus did not make the choice for him; the man made his own choice. However you view the Calvinist/Arminian debate, when we are presented with the claims of Christ we must make what is a real choice in our current circumstances. Jesus allowed the rich young ruler his choice. We have no indication that this man ever came to follow Jesus, despite what some scholars speculate.

This passage  gives us pause; if Jesus was not 100% successful in evangelism, how can we hope our witness will make a difference? Jesus answers this in verse 27: "With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God." Don't lose hope as a witness for Jesus Christ. Remember that it is the Holy Spirit's role to convict the heart and bring a realization of the need for Jesus. Be faithful in presenting Jesus to those you meet, and lay the eternal choice before them.

Monday, February 7, 2011

History and the Root of Theology

No Sunday sermon this week, since I did not preach.

Reading the beginning of Irenaeus' Demonstration of the Apostolic Teaching places the reader in a very different world. The pastor of my home church has been preaching on Genesis and how what we read in the first few chapters affects us in our contemporary world. This is a departure from the consensus of scholarly thought, perhaps even within evangelical circles, which regard the first 11 chapters of Genesis as myths designed to teach us some truth through a fictitious, ahistorical account. (In a previous post I mentioned a chapel speaker at my son's conservative Bible college who espoused this view.) Scholars, like other people, want to be accepted by their peers, and holding to Genesis as historical does not gain one appreciation among the majority of scholars.

Yet Irenaeus roots his theology in the accounts of Genesis: creation, the Fall, the flood. He makes a great deal about the various characters we find in these stories, and what they teach us about the way to relate to God. He sees theology as unfolding from these early stages as God reveals more about Himself to those who seek Him. Without this foundation, the rest of the story of redemption would collapse.

Now you can chalk this up to Irenaeus' historical naivete. There are certainly places where he shows that he accepts beliefs from non-Biblical sources, possibly on the basis of what other Christian writers taught. Yet he is careful to cite Scripture as he lays out his teaching for his audience. Irenaeus also understands some Biblical passages differently than we do today (he accepts the idea that the "giants" of Noah's times were the seed of angels and human women, for instance-although you will still find modern teachers who also accept this), but he is still careful to use the Bible the basis for his teaching.

I believe that Irenaeus is correct in his decision to root his teaching in Genesis understood as genuine history. As the history of theology shows, tearing history from the Genesis accounts often (if not inevitably) leads to finding it convenient to continue to do so throughout Scripture, including doing so to the gospel accounts of Jesus. At that point, Christianity ceases to be a faith and becomes a dry ethic that follows the remnants of the teachings of a Palestinian rabbi who may or may not have said what is recorded and who certainly did not rise from the dead.

Such a teaching may appeal to some. It allows you to create a Jesus that fits what you want Him to be by simply ignoring what you don't like in the Bible. This has been going on in the church almost as long as it has existed; Marcion was a prime example of changing the content of the Bible to fit what you want to believe. But in doing so, we rob Christianity of the power it has a a true story of God's work and Christ's redemption. In C.S. Lewis' phrase, Christianity is "myth become fact," and without the facts the myths lose their meaning.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

The Juxtaposition of Study

Once in a while, I am brought up short in my studies by what seems to be the coincidence of the convergence of lines of study. This, of course, happens all the time, and so should no longer strike me as a novelty. Still, it is interesting how often when we study what we believe to be independent lines of pursuit that we find our separate subject matter shines light on other areas we are also pursuing.

This assumes that our studies are not so singularly focused that we are essentially pursuing one line of thought at a time. Most of us do not have that luxury. As a pastor, teacher, parent, and aspiring scholar I find myself in multiple studies at the same time, often reading several books at once. (That should be the subject of another entry someday!) I do not often intentionally plan for my studies to converge, yet they do more often than probably I recall.

I have begun reading a book on Heaven for a Sunday school class in which I am participating. The author speaks often of how important Heaven was for the early church, and how in recent times we have begun to push teaching about Heaven to the periphery of theology. His emphasis on the expectations and aspirations of early Christians meshed nicely with my own interest in the patristic period.

That alone was not the coincidence. I have begun to pursue study in the area of eschatology in the second century. (This is part of the reason I began re-reading Irenaeus.) I am interested in the early church's teaching on Heaven, Hell, the afterlife, and the end times. So my required reading for Sunday school may very well provide me with information I can use as I look into this area of study.

In a way, life has continued to be like academic study when it comes to how and what I am learning. I don;t always get to choose just my favorite subjects, and I usually have multiple "courses" I am studying at the same time. Not all of my studies go into academia (I am currently beginning to learn ASL, for example), but altogether they serve to provide me with a greater understanding of God, the world, and myself. This makes me better able to serve in my various capacities in a way that honors Jesus and is effective in ministering to others, whether as an educator or a servant.

Friday, February 4, 2011

The Purpose of Scholarship

I am re-reading one of my favorite writings from the early church, Irenaeus' Demonstration of the Apostolic Teaching. This manual of instruction produced toward the end of the second century is a window into the teaching of the church in its earliest phases. The post-apostolic era was one in which the teaching of the apostles was beginning to be formulated for wider expression, and was becoming gradually more "Gentile" as it spread. What I find intriguing in Irenaeus is his essential conservatism of doctrine. Unlike many early Christian writers, he is not primarily interested in speculative philosophy and making Christian doctrine fit into Greek thought, but in passing down what he believes to be the teachings of the apostles to his own generation.

The opening paragraphs of the Demonstration are a salutary reminder to all who engage in scholarship and study. We often at least act like we believe the purpose of study is the attainment of knowledge in the abstract. We speculate and suggest without the slightest consideration of how our thoughts influence our actions. In this way, error has sometimes crept into the church, as those who sought innovation and novelty worked in a vacuum that squeezed out the air of practice.

Irenaeus warns his friend Marcianus that it is necessary to keep both orthodoxy and orthopraxy together: "For what profit is it to know the truth in words, and to pollute the flesh and perform the works of evil? Or what profit can purity of the flesh bring, if truth be not in the soul?" (ch. 2) This warning is against two errors: that of seeking to comprehend the truth intellectually while failing to live it out, and that of living a life that appears to all as good while believing falsehood. Both are fatal to the soul.

Either of these errors lead one into hypocrisy. There are many who strive to keep up the appearance of being godly while not holding onto the truth of God's Word. This even includes some pastors; my son told me that one of the chape speakers at his very conservative Christian college told the students that he considered Genesis 1-11 just a "myth" and that there were other places in Scripture that were in error. He may have the admiration of some, but he has in his own mind begun to cut out truth in favor of what he wants to believe. The opposite error is to hold onto an intellectualized belief, but one which does not affect the life. Religious thought is treated as having no impact on reality; it's just there to make us feel better about ourselves when things go badly.

Striking a balance of faith and practice may not be natural for us as we wrestle with our old selves, but it is what make us whole. Integrity refers to having all parts of our life integrated. As we put our faith and our works together (as James constantly reminds us), we become people who not only can reflect godly integrity to our society, but we grow more like the people God created us to be.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Understanding Roots

I had the pleasure today of beginning to read Jaroslav Pelikan's The Christian Tradition Vol. 1. As someone interested in the patristic era, I have intended to read this volume for quite some time, but other necessary reading always intervened. I hope to read this book somewhat more slowly than most; ike many, I have a tendency to want to "get through" a book. This one I want to digest.

Pelikan begins his book with an examination of the roots of Christian doctrine. This is one of the elements of theology that is often missed in modern systematic formulations. Christianity did not come out of a vacuum the day Jesus ascended to the Father; it has roots in the religious and philosophical world in which it began. Sometimes I think that modern theologians truly believe that theology and doctrine began with their era, and should accommodate the thought of our time.

The primary roots of the Christian faith are found in Old Testament Judaism. Yet much of the early apologetic effort of Christian writers was to contrast their faith with that of Judaism. The earliest Christians were largely though not exclusively Jewish, and NT writers such as James and the author of Hebrews show how steeped they are in Jewish thought. Even Paul, often portrayed as the one who "Gentilized" Christianity, was proud of his own Jewish heritage and education. As it grew as a faith, Christianity began to part ways with its Jewish roots (although some groups, such as the Ebionites, maintained Jewish traditions), and this divide really became vast after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD.

Early Christianity also had to encounter the popular pagan ideas of the time. One of Pelikan's points that I found fascinating was that in this encounter, Christianity began to "re-Judaize." The pagan philosophers thought Christianity was just a new faddish religion of recent vintage, so apologists for the faith dug back into the teaching of Moses and the prophets to demonstrate that this was no new teaching, but was far older than the Greek philosophers. While perhaps the apologists took some liberties with the data, they were right in rooting Christianity back to Moses, and even further.

So much of the modern church wants to find novelty in the way it teaches the Bible. There is a serious lack of historical perspective among many Christians-not just of the early roots of our faith, but even of more recent developments in theology. (Of course, by "recent" I would include the Reformation or the liberal-modernist controversy, not just the latest issue of Christianity Today.) Perhaps if we had such a perspective, we would be less inclined to accept every new teaching that aligns itself with our culture and find the solid truths on which our faith is based.