Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Advent 2020: The Light That Illumines Everything

John the Baptist was called by God to “prepare the way of the Lord.” In the Gospel of John this task is expressed differently than in the other Gospels. There it says that he “came to bear witness about the light, the true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.” 

The ESV explains that the coming “true light” was that “which gives light to everyone.” I would suggest a better translation: “the true light that illumines everyone was coming into the world.” The notion behind this translation is that light (as Jesus instructs Nicodemus) exposes everything, particularly deeds that are done in the dark. As D. A. Carson explains, the coming of the light, therefore, “forces a distinction.” Those who 'come to the light,' who 'believe in the light,' 'will not walk in darkness.' But the one who does not come to the light 'stumbles, because the light is not in him.'

As is often noted, the opening of John’s Gospel is an intentional echo of the opening chapters of Genesis. In Genesis, God speaks everything into being and then is said to breathe the "breath of life" into his newly formed image bearer, making him “a living creature.” This act involves more than just animating the man, however, for God is soon communicating with him, giving him instructions as to how he is to live and serve. This suggests that the man has been endowed with capacities that separate him from the rest of God’s creatures. This impartation of life, then, includes the kind of “light” alluded to in John’s Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . . All things were made through him . . . In him was life, and the life was the light of men.”

The problem that the human now has is that the light he follows is not the true light, but various refractions of false light. As a result, he follows light that misleads, confuses, renders his thinking “futile,” to quote Paul. Professing to be wise he becomes a fool, which, in turn, leads to all manners of rebellion.

It’s amazing, isn’t it, that God causes those who dwell in such darkness to be born again so that they can see the Kingdom of God? That is the staggering implication of the oft quoted John 3:16. The nature of God’s love is revealed by the decision to sends his son into hostile territory, territory occupied by the devil and his disciples, to turn rebels into loyal followers.

In this Advent season, a time in which the world lies in darkness, we long for the True Light to make his appearance. We wait with restless patience knowing that he will soon arrive — in just a few days, in fact. Let’s join the Baptist in bearing witness to his coming so that all might believe and “become sons of light.”

Thursday, June 25, 2020

"God Willed"

We are cautioned by James against arrogance when making plans: “Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’ As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil” (James 4:13-16). Some Christians, having taken this teaching to heart, append to their communications, “DV,” an abbreviation for the Latin, Deo volente, “God willing.”

When we say, “God willing,” we are acknowledging that we don’t know what the future holds. That is left for God to know, unless he reveals it to us in some way, such as in biblical predictive prophecy. When we say, “God willing,” we are acknowledging that we have no absolute control over the future. We make our plans but our plans are subsumed, absorbed, in whatever God’s plans are. So we might, for example, say, “God willing, I will meet you for lunch next Thursday.” Yet, God is the one who knows what will take place between now and then. In fact, he is the one who governs all things between now and then.

“God willing.” It’s pretty easy to say and we should mean it. 

That being said, it’s harder to say “God willed.” We are much more comfortable looking forward with expectation than we are looking back with resignation. That is, we map out our plans, or just go about our life living according to habitual expectations, and when something happens that we would never have put on our calendar, its interference shakes us. At such times, we are not given to saying “God willed,” as easily as we say, “God willing.” But in truth, we live in a universe that was not only created by God but continues to be governed by God. So we are right to say, “God willing,” but we must also be ready to say, “God willed,” even when that will includes that which shakes our life.

Though hard to mentally grasp, we are to know that all of God’s creation is enveloped in his will. All that comes to pass, therefore, is never due to chance, fate, or some other impersonal force. Rather, in the words of the Heidelberg Catechism, God’s ever-present power “rules in such a way that leaves and grass, rain and drought, fruitful and unfruitful years, food and drink, health and sickness, riches and poverty, and everything else, come to us not by chance but by his fatherly hand” (Question 27). If this is true, then even the sin of an enemy is encompassed within the over-arching will of God. This does not alleviate the sinner of his responsibility, but it does mean that no matter what transpires, God’s will, which is always good, will be done. 

Theologian R.C. Sproul, while teaching on the sovereignty of God, admitted that if he knew there was one molecule that was outside of God’s control, he would be terrified. It would mean that God was not God because there was something operating outside of his influence and power. Now, if God were a despot, then the realization that something was outside of his control would be good news. It would mean that there was hope for revolution, a change of regimes! But as God is a loving, wise, just, and merciful father, the confidence that he is in absolute and total control brings peace.

This is the perspective that Joseph famously obtained. Despite having been much sinned against he knew that what his brothers had meant for evil, God meant for good. He was able to say not only “God willing,” but also “God willed.”

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

We Are Not Alone

As Moses was soon to be separated from Israel, they going into the Promised Land, he to see it from afar, he summoned Joshua to stand before the people. The Lord had chosen Joshua to succeed Moses as head over Israel and it was time to commission him to that task: “Moses summoned Joshua and said to him in the sight of all Israel, ‘Be strong and courageous, for you shall go with this people into the land that the Lord has sworn to their fathers to give them, and you shall put them in possession of it. It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.’” (Deuteronomy 31:7-8)

This was a word of warning and of promise. The challenge before Joshua was going to be difficult. He would need to be “strong and courageous.” But throughout he could be assured that the Lord would be with him, neither leaving nor forsaking him. Was God good to his word? At the end of his life Joshua testifies to Israel, “I am about to go the way of all the earth, and you know in your hearts and souls, all of you, that not one word has failed of all the good things that the Lord your God promised concerning you. All have come to pass for you; not one of them has failed.” (Joshua 23:14) They possessed the land and ate “the fruit of vineyards and olive orchards that [they] did not plant.” (24:13)

This same God is the God to whom David appealed and about whom he could testify, “this poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and saved him out of all his troubles.” (Psalm 34:6) There is a striking difference, however, between the circumstances of these two men of God. While Joshua stood with a multitude, David was alone — alone, frightened, and without refuge or provision (see 1 Samuel 21). As James Boice notes, "He had nothing. No wonder David described himself as 'this poor man.’” Yet, in his poverty, to whom does he turn? It is to Yahweh, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of Moses and Joshua, who is also the God of David. In a time of great distress David discovered that Yahweh knew where he was, the circumstances that drove him there, and learned from him how he might be delivered.

Have we less reason than Joshua or David to hope that we can experience the truth that God will never leave us nor forsake us? Our faith in Jesus connects us to this promise keeping God. Recall his final words to the disciples, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20) In his poverty, David “sought the Lord” and the Lord answered and delivered him from all his fears. Jesus will do no less for us. We, too, can be strong and courageous knowing he will be with us — always with us — ready to hear our cry.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Learning to Lament

“Lament is the honest cry of a hurting heart wrestling with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness.” Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy

Approximately one third of the book of Psalms is laments. Perhaps that’s why it’s often cited as the most loved book of the Bible. The heart cry of the writers feels real, close to the human condition. Despite the connection we have with lament psalms, lamenting is not something we intentionally do. We do not practice lament. 

Lament is the conscious mourning over the brokenness of the world. The loss of a beloved child, a devastating diagnosis, the unwarranted attack by a friend, such heartbreaking situations are made all the more confusing for those who have faith in the God who promises blessing and steadfast love. In moments of deep uncertainty, confusion, and fear, the believer asks, “Why? Must it be so? Can it not be otherwise? God, you have promised to be near, yet you seem so very far away.” But instead of locking these questions within, lament frees them, putting them out in the air before God in honest, heartfelt expressions of woe. Through the process of addressing God, making complaint, and laying out a request, the sufferer is brought to a place of assurance that God has not forgotten. He remains faithful to his steadfast love.

That process describes the usual composition of biblical laments and offers that practicing lament will bring the same outcome. But Psalm 44 demonstrates that it isn’t always so. The writer ends without assurance that God has heard his cry. We don’t know why he lacks certainty, but he does.

I would suggest that one of the reasons might be due to temperament. Perhaps his was a soul that was weighted toward sadness. I cannot say that with confidence about him, but I can say that there are people more disposed to sorrow than others and perhaps he was one of them.

Too many Christians are uncomfortable with such people. They feel the downheartedness of the mourner needs to be corrected, and in an effort to cheer, offer easy answers with selected Bible verses, implying that if the mourner would just believe the Word of God, light would break in on his darkness. It can take time, however, for light to dawn. People need to be given time to grieve, to question, to mourn. Our job is to be ready to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). Patience is required, not haste.

In truth, learning to lament will bring us closer to Jesus. He had compassion  a deep gut reaction  when he saw that the “crowds were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36). He wept at Lazarus’s tomb and was “deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled” when he found Lazarus’s sister and those with her weeping (John 11:33-35). He mourned over the inevitable downfall of Jerusalem saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!” (Luke 19:42).

In lament, God gives us space to grieve, mourn, question, and plead. Though his promise of steadfast love can cause confusion when circumstances make us feel he has abandoned us, it is also the basis upon which we lament. 

He has promised and he will be faithful. 

Living Wisely

“We are food for worms lads. Believe it or not everyone in this room is going to stop breathing, turn cold and die . . .” These words, spoken by the character played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society, are biblically sound! Our lives are framed by conception and death. No matter how great the advances of medicine have been or will be, death has not, and will not, be overcome by human effort. 

The brevity or our lives, poignantly portrayed by Moses in Psalm 90, can be something over which we lament. The reason for our frailty is due to our own foolishness. Humanity was warned that transgressing the command of God would prove fatal. Disbelieving, unconvinced, deceived into thinking otherwise, we ate and found out that when God speaks, he speaks truth.

But God acted to ransom us from our folly by making a way for us to once again be in fellowship with him. As a result, though our bodies might be dead because of sin, the Spirit brings life because of God-given righteousness (Romans 8:10-11). This offers a hopeful perspective on the ephemerality of our days. We need not lament. Rather, we can rejoice, for constraint prods us to action. Os Guinness asserts, “Brevity of life is like the frame of a picture, or a sports field for a game, or a term for a student. It gives the framework and focus that gives you the intensity and the motivation.” Knowing that we have only so many days we press into God for the needed grace to live them well. This is the nature of the cry that emanates from Moses’ meditation on our mortality, “teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12).

The final petitions of Psalm 90 can shape our prayer as we ask God for the desired wisdom. First, we ask him to have pity on us. And he does have pity on us. As another psalm says,“he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust” (Psalms 103:14). Then we lean into his covenant faithfulness, his “steadfast love,” asking that he get hold of us sooner rather than later that “we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” Next, we petition that his “work” and “glorious power” be made evident and comprehensible to us. Lastly, having been awed by who he is and what he has done, we beseech that his “beauty . . . be upon us, and establish the work of our hands.” 

Praying for a humble acceptance of the brevity of our lives will lead to the wisdom needed to live our lives with meaning. We abandon the false standards of what constitutes significance and enter into what God is doing in the world. It is his plan for his creation, and our part in that plan, that will allow us to say at the end of our days, “I am satisfied. I am fulfilled. Life has been extraordinary!”

Life in the Vine

“If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you.” (Romans 8:11)

Stop and consider that statement. 

A person united to Jesus by faith has the same Spirit dwelling in her that raised Jesus from the dead! And the presence of the Holy Spirit in that person brings resurrection life to his “mortal” body. 

There are two ways that we experience this life: in the “the redemption of our bodies” and our being “conformed to the image of his Son” (Romans 8:23, 29). On the day that we stand before Jesus’ throne of judgment we will put off our mortality and perishability and be possesed of a body like unto Jesus’ glorious body (1 Corinthians 15:51-53; Philippians 3:21). We can have confidence, therefore, that the salvation won for us will be complete with the restoration of our material selves, and knowing this, “we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:25).

The verse above also speaks to the life-giving Spirit conforming us “to the image of his Son.” Because we are now those “who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit,” we are, as those who “who live according to the Spirit,” to “set [our] minds on the things of the Spirit” (Romans 8:4,5). It is by the Spirit that we are enabled to “put to death the deeds of the body.” In this way we are being conformed more and more into the likeness of Jesus. Even our trials allow us to participate in his suffering, drawing upon the power of the Holy Spirit to join with Paul in considering “that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:17,18).

I believe Paul’s teaching relates closely to Jesus’ vine and branches metaphor of John 15. He intends fruit to be born from his life flowing into us. We should not, therefore, underestimate the potential for transformation that can take place as we abide in him and his words abide in us. Increasing faith, hope, godliness and holiness will mark our lives as we abide in the Vine. As we set our minds on things of the Spirit, we are renewed and our desires are reshaped so that more and more we desire what God desires. Abiding in Christ, times of suffering are understood as times of pruning (John 15:2) that, “for those who love God,” are being worked “together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28), chief of which is his choosing and appointing us to “go and bear fruit and that [our] fruit should abide” (John 15:16)

Let’s purpose and pray that resurrection life will bear abiding fruit to the glory of God.

Palm Sunday

I went to a theologically liberal seminary. Early on in my time there I was part of a conversation in which I raised the atoning work of Christ. An older fellow, whom I did not know, chimed in with, “Well, that all depends on what you mean by atonement.” I was taken aback. I was unaware that that was a question. From my reading, the Bible seemed pretty clear as to what is meant by atonement. That conversation comes back to me when I consider Palm Sunday. 

Entering Jerusalem, Jesus is approaching the culmination of his earthly ministry. From the moment he was conceived in the womb of the virgin, this week has been the goal. He was given the name Jesus and his name defined his mission, and his mission’s denouement is upon him. With ‘eyes wide open’ he moves toward the holy city, self-aware of who he is and what he has been sent to do. It is love incarnate. To make it anything less by recasting Jesus passion as something other than a wrath-bearing, substitutionary sacrifice, is to drain it of all significance. Palm Sunday is no longer a deliberate act of grace by God in the flesh, but a misguided display of self-importance by a woefully deceived cipher of a man. The fellow at the seminary who suggested that atonement could be redefined fulfilled the hopes of plotting Jews: that Jesus would be discovered to be just another loser with visions of grandeur (see Acts 5:33-38).

But as Jesus repeatedly warned, and the gospel accounts clearly record, his passion, undertaken as the promised redeemer, was designed to meet the need of those he came to save. His central role in procuring that salvation is fully attested in the events of Palm Sunday: his symbolic mount connects him to the prophesied king of peace: the accolades of the crowd are received by him as fitting praise; the spiritual blindness of Jerusalem will result in its destruction. Even the evil of those who seek to destroy him plays into the eternal plan of God. 

Our King of peace has come, “righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” (Zechariah 9:9) And to “all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” (John 1:12-13)

Jesus came to save sinners, and it is sinners that he saves. 

The Reset of the Divine-Human Relationship

Following the order of Luke’s Gospel, the second wilderness temptation of Jesus involves authority. Satan “showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, and said to him, ‘To you I will give all this authority and their glory, for it has been delivered to me, and I give it to whom I will.’” But there was a condition, an if: “If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus had only to allow Satan to be his king, his object of veneration, and he could have all the authority that the world had to offer. But Jesus responded, “It is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve.’” 

All three of Jesus’ rejoinders in these temptations are taken from Deuteronomy and signal a strong connection with what Jesus is undergoing in the wilderness and God’s testing of Israel in their own wilderness journey  This particular rebuke is from Moses’s warning that Israel, when they enter the Promised Land, should not “go after other gods, the gods of the peoples who are around you.” Alas, Israel failed. Their history is overwhelmingly marked by idolatry. Jesus, however, held true in his devotion to the Father and Father’s will, succeeding when the Israel did not. As such, he was the true Israel.

I also think this second temptation addresses the foundational rebellion of Adam when he made the decision to come out from under God’s authority by transgressing the command to not eat of the forbidden tree. In this defiant act, Adam attempted a coup. He had been made to serve as regent in God’s creation, but he wanted to be king. What is ironic is that Adam had already been given more than enough authority. He was to exercise dominion over the earth! But when told he could be like God, the allure of independent authority and personal glory captured his imagination. And so he ate. His decision was fatal.

In the second temptation, Jesus, our champion, enters into battle with our foe. He withstands the temptation and comes out the victor and, as our representative, resets the divine-human relationship. We, by our faith-union with him, are brought back under God’s authority and perfectly worship and serve him. We know by experience, however, that the perfection we have in Christ is not manifested in our Christian walk. The process of sanctification is one that involves a progressive awakening to and ability to walk in righteousness and holiness. To this end, God uses temptations to test the “genuineness” of our faith so that it “may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 1:7) In each temptation, therefore, we are being tested to see if we will be content to be regents and not kings, to live under the authority of the one to whom “all authority in heaven and on earth has been given.” 

Amazingly, the weapons that our champion brought to the fight are also ours: the power of the Holy Spirit, the truth of the Word of God, the confidence that the challenge we find ourselves in is something orchestrated by God, and his promise that he will never leave us nor forsake us. By faith in Christ we can share in his victory — no matter the temptation.

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Living Justly

Our last look at justice considers how we, as individuals, are to live justly. Our example is Job. Look at two passages in which he describes how he handled his wealth and influence, both of which he had in large measure, Job 29:7-17 and Job 31. The self-descriptions arise because Job is trying to figure out why he is being afflicted as he is. We, the readers, know the score. Job is not being punished, he is being tested. His righteousness is being put through fire so that it will be shown to be genuine. At the beginning of the narrative, God describes him as upright and throughout his ordeal he is proven to be so.

I turn to Job not so much to understand why Job was going through what he was going through, but to highlight what it means to live justly. The picure is convicting. When he came to “the gate of the city” to sit among the elders to render judgment, he was respected by all in attendance (Job 29:7-17). He used his influence to bring relief to the vulnerable and defend those who were being treated as prey. He describes himself as one who, “put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my justice was like a robe and a turban” (Job 29:14). The Hebrew terms translated righteousness and justice indicate that as a man this was who he was and what he did. His just actions were an expression of his inner righteousness. We shouldn’t consider this self-aggrandizing language. Remember, God said that “there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil” (Job 1:8).

Job’s ethical portrait continues in chapter 31. He describes how he avoided sexual immorality, treated his servants with the respect due a fellow human being, did not withhold his material goods from those in need, did not use his influence to his own good and the detriment of others, nor did he trust in material wealth, participate in idolatry, or rejoice over the fall of one who hated him. And those who lodged with him, including the sojourner, were well fed. He did not fear nor play to the opinions of others. Lastly, he did not abuse the land that had brought him and others such blessing.


If all lived as Job lived, would we have social justice? We would. And as God praised Job for his uprightness so he would look upon such a society and consider it just. Perhaps it is too much to hope for this side of glory, but we Christians should be seeking God for the grace to live as Job lived. We, of all people, should understand that all that we have comes from our Father's hand who requires of us love for God and neighbor. If, like Job, we grow in the true righteousness and holiness we have been redeemed to possess (Ephesians 4:24), our personal choices and treatment of others will more and more reflect lives justly lived.

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Doing Justice

In our ongoing look at the issue of justice, we need to consider justice as handled by law enforcement agencies and courts. Leviticus 19:15 states it succinctly: “You shall do no injustice in court. You shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great, but in righteousness shall you judge your neighbor.” A motivation for my addressing this topic comes from the book our church read and recently got to discussing, Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson. If you read the story of Walter McMillan, the returning narrative of the book, and place his experience alongside the dictates of Exodus 23:12-3, 6-9, one of many passages in which the expectation of informed, impartial, and appropriate justice is made known, you’ll see that his “justice” violated every one of Moses’s demands. It was a travesty. Those who have been unwilling to repent of the injustice they perpetrated will have to give an account to the one who warned, “Keep far from a false charge, and do not kill the innocent and righteous, for I will not acquit the wicked” (Exodus 23:7).

But legal injustice is not confined to abuse by “officers of the court.” The church has long acknowledged that unjust laws are no laws. That is, laws that are being enforced might very well be unjust in and of themselves. And when injustice has manifested itself in this way, those who decided they “must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29) have been held in high esteem. The power to make laws and execute justice is not absolute. Only in God can we find an all-righteous law maker and defender. When humans fail to do justice those who serve the one who defines justice must live under his law.

That being said, even when laws are just and the associated punishment appropriate, there are times when mercy must triumph. I believe the “woman caught in adultery,” recorded in John 8, is to the point. Was she guilty of the crime? She was. Did she deserve death according to the law? She did. Were there mitigating circumstances that would have made the ruthless carrying out of the punishment an injustice? Apparently there were, for Jesus sent her way uncondemned. There are differing opinions as to what those mitigating circumstances were, but they were sufficient for the Lord to offer her another chance at life. Here, mercy triumphed over judgment.

The Equal Justice Initiative, the organization that Bryan Stevenson founded, reports that a short while ago Nick Sutton was recently executed. In 1980 he was convicted of murder and was imprisoned as an 18 year old. During his incarceration he became a different man. His transformation was so significant that his clemency application was “supported by correction staff, victims’ family members, many of the original jurors, and those whose lives Mr. Sutton has saved.” The last group noted included three prison guards whose lives were protected by the condemned man. His kindness and service to other inmates, as well as his continuing efforts at mediation between inmates and correction officials, made him an asset to the prison population. Nevertheless, his application was denied and his execution, some 40 years after the verdict, was carried out. Was this just? Technically, yes. Morally, no. There are enough mitigating circumstances on record that the Governor could have justly shown mercy and set aside the death sentence.

Doing justice is hard work. It can get messy. But it is required. 

“He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love mercy,
and to walk humbly with your God”
Micah 6:8

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Love for Neighbor

The plight of the illegal immigrant is usually included in the call for ‘social justice.’ The rhetoric surrounding the debate, however, is often misleading. The dropping of the term “illegal” by advocates makes it sound as if all who oppose illegal entry oppose all immigrants. This is unfortunate, for it only serves to cloud the issue rather than clarify. The same could be said of language coming out of the Christian community. When stipulations from the Mosaic law regarding treatment of the “sojourner” are offered, or Jesus’ Judgment Day expectation of care for the “stranger” is cited, important contextual considerations that deny a universal application of the obligation are overlooked. That being said, a pertinent and, frankly, more demanding text, is applicable: the parable of the “Good Samaritan.” In it, to use the words of R.C. Sproul, the obligation of the “universal neighborhood of man” requires that “I love each human being as much as I love myself.”

There is a “macro” view and a “micro” view of the issues involved. The macro is concerned with an unregulated influx of people. Without vigilance, it proves difficult to keep track of how many there are, who they are, where they have come from, and where they are once they arrive. This is not an insignificant concern. Personally, I think the threat of rapists and murderers flooding the country is more rhetoric than reality, nor is the possibility of jihadists slipping in undetected a major concern, but the sheer number of people that desire the prosperity and freedom we enjoy could easily overwhelm the country’s capacity to accommodate them, actually undermining the very institutions that allow for prosperity and freedom. The civil government is tasked with maintaining a just and stable society and this involves establishing and maintaining laws. To think otherwise is folly. R.C. Sproul is right to affirm the universal neighborhood of man; but he would be the first to deny the universal goodness of man. Hence, the need for appropriate regulation.

That being said, the micro view understands that the vast majority of people desiring to enter our country are fleeing very difficult circumstances. Economic stagnation, authoritarian or failed governments, and unchecked violence are all contributing factors that make people feel as though they have no other option but to pack up what they can and leave. There is often great expense and risk involved in the undertaking, which suggests that the decision to depart is not made lightly. When the illegal immigrant ends up at our doorstep, literally or figuratively, having suffered from his trek, Jesus’ parable teaches that our first obligation is to care for them as neighbors. The inclusion of a priest and levite avoiding a man who appears to be dead, contact with whom would have rendered them ritually unfit to perform their duties, illustrates what Jesus approves elsewhere, “to love one's neighbor as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices” (Mark 12:33). This, perhaps, should temper our zeal for strict adherence to law.

There is the need for social stability that is provided by laws that govern immigration, and there are the needs of people, many of whom are escaping undesirable circumstances. These are both weighty considerations that demand wisdom more than easy answers. For the Christian this is particularly true. Understanding the need to love others as we would be loved, we must resist the dehumanizing demagoguery that too often characterizes the debate and seek to respectfully honor our government and compassionately love our neighbor.

Tuesday, February 4, 2020

A Just People

Soon after the entrance of sin into his creation God signals that he is going to have a people that will be fighting against and victorious over the serpent’s scheming. In the unfolding story of redemption, biblical theologians understand the “he” who would bruise the head of the serpent (Genesis 3:15) is revealed to be Christ. Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, victory over sin and death, the dark fruit of the serpent’s deception, was accomplished. 

But there is scriptural warrant for also asserting that the offspring of the serpent and the offspring of the woman represent those loyal to each. Enmity exists between those who are subject to “the prince of the power of the air” (Ephesians 2:2), and those who have been “made alive with Christ” (Ephesians 2:5). Cain “was of the evil one and murdered his brother,” while Abel “was commended as righteous” (Hebrews 11:4). The Pharisees who opposed Jesus had the devil as their father (John 8:44), but those “who abide in [Christ’s] word . . . are truly [his] disciples” (John 8:31).

One of the purposes God has for the "seed" of the woman is that they would live as God intended, and their obedience to God’s will would enable them to form a just society by which he would be displayed among the nations. His people, living according to his will, was to cause others to yearn for the equanimity and justice that God’s design produces. This was true for Israel and is true for the Body of Christ. 

God's mission was hard for Israel and is perhaps even harder for the Body of Christ, given the diversity of its makeup. Paul teaches that by faith all manners of people are brought into the covenant promises of God. In his letter to the Galatians he assures his readers that there “is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise” (Galatians 3:28-29). Positionally, all moved from being children of wrath to children of God (Ephesians 2:3). But this bringing together of disparate peoples brought with it challenges as the church wrestled with the troubles and tensions that sin brought into the world. Consider the list above. Jews would not have considered Gentiles to be part of the covenant people unless they stopped being Gentiles. Neither slaves nor women enjoyed the same status as free men. Add to this the gulf between rich and poor (see James 2) and it takes little imagination to envision how hard it was for the prayed for unity to be realized (John 17:15-23).

It is still hard. But we are told to be “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3). So, despite the challenges we must demonstrate to the world that in Christ it is possible for people of different races, sexes, classes, and economic status to live together justly, for all have been “brought near by the blood of Christ.” For Jesus “is our peace, who has made us . . . one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility.” (Ephesians 2:13-14)

47 Years of Injustice

God expects righteousness and justice to be maintained. The authority granted to rulers is given for that very purpose; they are to govern in such a way that victims are defended and perpetrators are punished. History has many “bad actors” who have abused or neglected the authority granted to them, falling woefully short of divine expections, and the people under them have suffered. Such misuse angers God. The prophets often decry exploitation of the poor and vulnerable and calls for justice and righteousness are many. Because injustice concerns God it should concern his people. He wants us to care about it and labor to ameliorate its effects. We might not create heaven on earth but we can represent heaven on earth.

A tragic example of injustice that has persisted in our country for the past 47 years is the unfettered access to abortion granted by the 1973 Supreme Court decision Roe v. Wade. The very institution that has been entrusted with deciding what is just when competing interests are jockeying for their perceived due, offered no protection for the unborn baby, the most vulnerable of the pertinent parties in the dispute. The infamous 1857 Dred Scott v. Sandford decision has been described by some historians as the worst the Supreme Court has ever made. As unjust as that ruling was, Roe v. Wade far outstrips it when judged by its consequences. Some 62 million abortions have been performed since that decision and each of them ended the life of a defensless human being. This is injustice worthy of a prophet’s most vehement scorn.

The current call for social justice among evangelicals is not to be ignored, but neither is the plight of the unborn. If our concern for righteousness and justice grows out of our love for God and neighbor, this should certainly include our fellow image bearers in the womb. Each one of us has started our human journey in the same place and there is none who are less human than another simply because of where he or she is on that journey. Let us labor for the kind of society that God declares ought to be. Those who are the victims of unrighteousness deserve the advocacy of those who serve the One who is the “Father of the fatherless and protector of widows” (Psalm 68:5). This must include all those in our society who are unable to advocate for themselves, including the child in the womb.

Why Is Justice Important?

Noted 19th century politician and statesman, Daniel Webster, opined, “Justice is the greatest concern of man on earth.” Given the tenor of our days, it is not an overstatement. If there is one thing that could define our time it is the cry for “social justice.” Each self-identified group clamors for it. It is not always clear what standard is being applied to determine what is just, but the belief that there is a need for justice is palpable. In this regard, Webster’s observation holds true. 

Why is justice so important to people? Why are humans beings so rankled when an injustice is perpetrated? I believe it has something to do with our being made in the image of God. If being just is “based on or behaving according to what is morally right and fair,” as one definition would have it, then without equivocation we can declare that God is just, for he is “a faithful God who does no wrong” (Deuteronomy 32:4, NIV). He his all-righteous. Indeed, he defines what it means to be righteous and just. As we are made in his image, we have been created with a desire for righteousness and justice. The problem we have is that our capacity for determining what is just has been greatly vitiated by our rejection of the One who is just. As a consequence, our moral compass points more south than north.

That being said, though we may not always get what true social justice is, God does. He speaks of it often in the word he has given to us. As we look into this subject more, I think we will find that not all of the clamor is justified — but some of it is. Sin has caused serious injustices from the moment it entered into God’s good creation. Cain’s murder of Abel was just such a manifestation. God said that Abel had done that which was right; for him to be slain by his brother on account of righteousness was a deep injustice. We get that. 

Are similar injustices being perpetrated today? Indeed, there are, and God hates them as much as he hated Cain’s act of cruelty. And because God cares whether or not human beings are just we, his redeemed children, should also care. Not only have we been created in his image, we are being transformed into his image (2 Corinthinas 3:18). What he hates, we should hate. What he desires, we should desire. 


You have a mighty arm;
strong is your hand, high your right hand.
Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne;
steadfast love and faithfulness go before you.
Psalms 89:13-14

Just Rulers

It is remarkable how often in Scripture God’s assessment of rulers involves how they have treated the poor, oppressed, fatherless, widow, or aliens (more on what constitutes an alien in an upcoming post). It would appear that his entrusting authority to rulers carries with it the expectation that they would care about the same thing that he cares about, namely, reversing the results of sin.

I think this is why so much concern is directed toward vulnerable members of society. Sin manifests itself in many ways, but when it results in abuse or neglect of those without power by those who have been entrusted with power its seems particularly sinful. 

Jesus is the model of servant-leadership that all in exalted positions should imitate. The path he walked was one not marked by leveraging of heavenly identity. A translation of Philippians 2:6-7 that I favor reads this way, “. . . though he was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be held on to for advantage, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant.” Jesus willingly stepped down from his exalted position in order to serve those whom the Father had entrusted to his care. 

This needs to be taken into account by those who would rule for to sit in the place of power brings with it grave responsibility that will require a reckoning. Following a parable in which the steward of a household is described as abusing his place of authority, Jesus teaches, “Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.” (Luke 1:48) This is why we need to pray for our rulers. We want our leaders to be people who possess a servant's heart and a healthy dose of humility. God expects them to be protectors of the weak. They need to be sensitive, therefore, to the forces at work in our fallen world that exploit those without power.

That being said, it can be discouraging to acknowledge that all people in power, to lesser or greater degree, fail in their God-given duties to defend the vulnerable. We read with longing a passage like Psalm 72. A society in which authority is used to subdue workers of evil while establishing righteousness and justice seems to good to be true. But it is true or, at least, will be true when the reign of God’s anointed is fully realized. Jesus alone reigns with unmitigated righteousness, and all his enemies will be made his footstool. This is the end to which history is moving. Let’s pray that those who rule now will anticipate Christ’s rule as they humbly take up their mantle of leadership.