Self-Justifying Machines

Human beings are self-justifying machines. We get it from Adam ("The woman you gave me . . ."). It's not a noble trait. Part of the fallout from our desperate desire to justify ourselves is that it causes us to judge others without being willing to judge ourselves. Quick to point out the speck in our brother's eye, we cannot see for the log in our own. Self-justification is fueled all the more when the speck in the other's eye is truly as big as a log, making our log seem like a speck. This was the problem that Simon the Pharisee had when a woman, whose "sins were many," came uninvited into his home (Luke 7:36-50). He had every reason to think she was "a sinful woman," but her overt sinfulness allowed him to think more highly of himself than he had a right to do. In fact, he thought so well of himself that he stood in judgment over the One before whom all will give an account, including Simon. That will not be a pretty day for the Pharisee, unless at some point, by the grace of God, he came to see that his need for forgiveness was as great as the woman he despised.

Self-justification has no place in the life of a Christian. We, of all people, should recognize that we are doing better than we deserve. In light of the reality that Christ died for us "while we were still sinners" (Romans 5:8), an act that one would scarcely do for a righteous person, we have every reason to be as grateful as the unnamed woman who wept at Jesus' feet. Yet, we are prone to slipping into the same mindset as Simon. When that happens remember how Jesus responded to the Pharisee. The parable he offered Simon was a devastating critique of the man's attitude. He didn't get it, but we should. 

A helpful antidote to the poison of self-justification is a resolution Jonathan Edwards penned when a young man: "Resolved, to act, in all respects, both speaking and doing, as if nobody had been so vile as I, and as if I had committed the same sins, or had the same infirmities or failings as others; and that I will let the knowledge of their failings promote nothing but shame in myself, and prove only an occasion of my confessing my own sins and misery to God." Joining Edwards in his resolve could go a long way in drying up the fuel that runs our self-justifying machine.

Looking into the Holy

“Hollywood” has done an excellent job of portraying demonic evil. Their capacity for scaring the bejeezus out of people by embodying and loosing Satan and his minions to terrorize unsuspecting victims is remarkable. The success of such films taps into the fascination that people have with the holy. Rudolf Otto, in his famous work from the early 20th century, “The Idea of the Holy,” calls the feeling (the “non-rational” response) of people when confronted with “that which is hidden and esoteric, that which is beyond conception or understanding, extraordinary and unfamiliar,” the mysterium tremendum. He argues that this might be a positive response, such as the soul bowing down before the reality of God. But it also “has its wild and demonic forms and can sink to an almost grisly horror and shuddering.” If Otto is correct, then despite the outward denial of many in the West to the reality of demons and the devil (and God), inwardly they are both drawn to and repelled by the idea.

As Christians, we understand why people are compelled by “the holy.” They have been created to worship the one who is not seen, who dwells in unapproachable light, who is neither constrained nor defined by the human. The Fall destroyed our innate capacity to know this one, but our connection with “that which is beyond conception or understanding, extraordinary and unfamiliar” remains. And when the veil is drawn back, if only by the imagination of a filmmaker, that connection is aroused and people are frightened.

How different our state, then, when we are, by his grace, reconciled to God. Not only has our capacity to know him been restored, but we long to see him face to face, not looking away or hiding from his majesty. And united to Christ, who sits at the right hand of the Almighty, we can face the evil hosts when they creep out from the shadows threatening us harm. In Christ, we have complete assurance that there is no “created thing,” not even angels, rulers, or powers, that “will have the power to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord!” Clothed in the reality of this truth, we can “stand against the schemes of the devil,” knowing that he and his cohort are destined for the pit, there to remain forever. 

Palm Sunday -- To Receive a Kingdom

“Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” Such are the accolades poured down upon Jesus as he proceeded to Jerusalem at the beginning of his “passion week.” Hopes were high that he was the looked-for inheritor of David’s throne. He certainly had done things that no one else had done, things that heralded the reign of the promised one. The signs were there: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them.” He must be the one! “Hosanna to the Son of David!”

But as was often the case for those who encountered Jesus, the enthused people failed to grasp all that was going on. They were right to hail him as king, but the fulfillment of his reign was not to be realized in the days that immediately followed. This they needed to understand so that they might be prepared for his return. On that day, he will come not on a donkey “having salvation,” but astride a white horse to “tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty.” To press this point he told a parable.

The nobleman of the parable was going to “a far country” where he would “receive a kingdom” and return. If they were listening, what they needed to grasp was the fact that upon his return the nobleman would settle accounts. The metaphor Jesus used was the nobleman entrusting money into his servants’ hands with the expectation that they would “engage in business” until he returned. There were others in the parable who, like the religious leaders of Jesus day, rejected outright the nobleman being vested with authority to rule over them. These, too, would be called to account.

The nobleman’s dealings with his servants, however, is most applicable to us in his church. What he gave them was something with innate capacity to bring a return (as the saying goes, “the rich get richer . . .’). For the church, it’s not money that has been entrusted, but things of far greater value, all with innate capacity to bring him a return: his story, his Spirit, and his reputation. How we have stewarded these precious commodities is what we will have to answer for upon his return. By his grace, we strive to hear, “Well done, good servant!”

V-W Day

On Sundays we celebrate V-W Day — Victory Wilderness Day. Just as the Allied Forces celebrated first V-E Day, Victory Europe, then V-J Day, Victory Japan, so the church celebrates V-W Day whenever it meets to worship the living God. Jesus’ victory over the devil in the wilderness set the stage for his ultimate victory over sin and death, a condition that the devil fostered when he persuaded Eve to eat the forbidden fruit.

One chapter of that redemptive plan was God’s choosing of Israel, as a son, to be a “light to the nations.” He entered into covenant with them and gave them laws that, in the words of Moses, would be their “wisdom and . . . understanding in the sight of the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people’” (Deuteronomy 4:6). God had purposed to use Israel to carry out his promise to Abraham that in him “all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:4). But Israel failed its duties. How would this be rectified? God himself would provide his only-begotten Son who would accomplish what his rebellious chosen son had not. 

That Jesus fulfilled this role is evident in the struggle in the wilderness. His answers to the devil’s temptations designate him as the representative Israel, the true Israel. His being tempted over the course of 40 days is surely an allusion to the 40 years that Israel wandered in the wilderness. Yet, where they doubted, rebelled, complained, and died, Jesus would trust, obey, be content, and live. He is fully aware of the task he has been given and he remains obedient, at peace, and confident of his Father’s love. 

The devil was defeated and “departed from him until an opportune time” (Luke 4:13). Yet, even that opportune time, when “Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot” (Luke 22:3) and led him to betray Jesus into the hands of the Jewish leaders and the Roman magistrate, was something that happened “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:13). 

Poor devil. He thinks he’s clever, that he still has a chance. But, in the words of Martin Luther, “Lo! his doom is sure. One little Word shall fell him!”

An Unfriendly Gospel

When one thinks of John the Baptist, one envisions this wild-eyed man with unkempt hair, dressed in animal skins and carrying a staff. His preaching is fiery, maybe even angry sounding — like some street corner preacher come to save the world, starting in Times Square. He may have been a number of those things, but what seems incongruous to modern sensibilities is that he was one who came preaching “good news” (Luke 3:18). John the Baptist was first and foremost a gospel preacher.

But his message and method are so unfriendly. He calls people names. He demands that they live ethical lives lest they face the wrath of God. And his description of the one who would follow him, the one for whom he is preparing the way, is not in the least appealing. That one comes prepared to consign people to eternal torment, like chaff burning with “unquenchable fire” if they do not repent of their sins. That’s gospel preaching? Where’s the love?

It’s Luke’s description of John as one who came “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” that helps us understand why his message was good news. He was laboring to “prepare a people” for the Lord. He warned of the one who was coming with a “winnowing fork is in his hand,” who would baptize either with the Holy Spirit or with fire (the Holy Spirit for those who heeded the call, and fire for those who did not), and people in need of righteousness could be prepared for that day by having their sins forgiven. Letting those under the wrath of God know that God has provided salvation is, indeed, good news. To suggest that they need not fear God’s wrath, or that the way of escaping judgment is though a heroic effort of self-improvement, is to substitute a false gospel for the true. It would be the most unloving message that one could ever utter.

John the Baptist’s method might not be suitable for every situation, but the substance of his message is. No one escapes the Day of Judgment. And what needs to be known about that day is summed up in the words, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Hebrews 10:31). But the one whom John heralded was the one whose shed blood atoned for sin so that all who are his can say “there is . . . now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). That is the gospel. That is good news.

The Fullness of Time

Georg Friedrich Handel’s oratorio, The Messiah, is a staple of the Advent and Christmas season. Presentations abound, especially in a place like New York City. The words sung are a compilation of scriptures that attest to the unfolding narrative of redemption found in the Bible. Between the score and the libretto, the composer produced a powerful artistic expression of what the apostle Paul declares: “when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Galatians 4:4-5). Handel’s Messiah is an ode to “the fullness of time.”

In his own way, Luke, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, by including the events surrounding Jesus’ birth in his “orderly account,” also produced an ode to “the fullness of time.” We learn from him that the birth of Jesus was something planned before the creation of the universe, for he was God’s Son entering into the world in the womb of a virgin. “Born of a woman,” he was the promised seed who would crush the head of the serpent. He was the evidence of God having remembered the covenant he made with Abraham, the one through whom all the families of the earth would be blessed. He was the promised eternal inheritor of David’s throne. He was the one to come out of Bethlehem “who is to be ruler in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.” He was the one before whom would go the one sent “in the spirit and power of Elijah . . . to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.” He was the “light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to . . . Israel.” He was the Anointed One, the long-awaited and longed for Messiah.

Having Luke’s “backstory,” there can be no guesswork as to what we are dealing with when he records for us, “Jesus, when he began his ministry, was about thirty years of age . . .” (Luke 3:22). And we understand with greater depth the pronouncement of Christ, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.’’ (Mark 1:15).

Leap of Faith?

In looking for a definition of “faith” in the New Oxford American Dictionary I found the following: “strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof.” I suppose that’s how a lot of people understand faith. “I just believe even though I have no objective reason to believe.” But that’s not the approach the Bible takes. Consider the following language: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life-- the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it--” 1 John 1:1, 2; “Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand . . . For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ . . . was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then . . . to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive” 1 Corinthians 15:1-6; “Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus,” Luke 1:1-3. Does it sound like John, Paul, and Luke expect their readers to possess a belief based upon “spiritual apprehension” alone “rather than proof”?

God does not expect a “leap of faith” at any time during our discipleship. What he expects is that we “connect the dots.” He asks us to trust him for the future based upon what he has done in the past. A “leap of faith” would be required if we had not reason to believe that the accounts left for us are true or that God, who promised that he would act to secure eternal life for his people, has really done nothing but sit upon his non-existent hands. 

But we know better than that. He promised redemption and he fulfilled that promise by sending his only-begotten Son to do for us what we could not do for ourselves. Our faith confesses, therefore, that if he “did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:32.

Self-Controlled Lives

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age” (Titus 2:11-12). What does it mean for you to live a “self-controlled” life? It’s the difference between you living with others, and forcing others to live among you. The latter suggests that you are indifferent as to how much your behavior affects those around you, the former suggests that you are mindful of how you share life’s space. It’s clear from Paul’s letter that we are not to live as those who have to be managed or endured. Rather, our living should enhance the living of others. Additionally, and most importantly, our learning to live self-controlled lives keeps us from bringing disrepute on the faith and the God we confess.

The expectation for older men in the “household code” of Titus 2 is instructive for all of us: “Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness” (v. 2). There is a certain decorum expected of older men, a decorum that comes from having lived longer and learned from that living. The closing triplet, however, offers a clue as to how a Christian of any age can live in a self-controlled manner: “sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness.” If our faith is sound, that is, based upon sound teaching (2:1), we will understand who God is, and why the world is the way it is, and why we act as we do, and why we need the grace of God in our lives, and how Jesus Christ expressed that grace by giving “himself for us to redeem us.” Secure in this knowledge we are released to be sound in love. No longer thinking we must win God’s favor by doing good, we can do good out of true love. Lastly, secure in the knowledge of God’s love, freed from looking at the world as something that is there to gratify our needs, we can exercise a constancy that can be relied upon as we serve the church and our neighbors.

Given the reputation of the island, the newly minted Christians of Crete likely needed Paul’s repeated emphasis on self-control. We could argue, however, that our culture is just as focused on self-gratification as was theirs. The challenge, therefore, is to remember that we are not an island unto ourselves. There are people all around us. We must ask God for the grace to live with them and not force them to live among us, so that “in everything [we] may adorn the doctrine of God our Savior.”