"O My People"

“My forebears came over on the Mayflower.” I’ve met a couple of people who’ve made this claim. In this country, that’s about as far back (nearly 400 years) as anyone can lay claim to some sort of discernible relationship with previous generations of their family (well, at least for those who emigrated from Europe -- it may very well be that some descended from the native population at the time of the Pilgrims’ landing might claim a longer lineage). But I think it’s safe to say that few, if any, consider in a lively manner how the realities of an older generation affect their own. That was then, this is now. Biblically, however, it’s a different matter.

In chapter 6, Micah summons God’s people to hear the Lord’s indictment against them. Yahweh asks, “O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me!” They have no cause to abandon the Lord; he has been faithful. The proof? In verses 4-5 Yahweh asks that they “remember” his delivering of them from Egypt, his provision and protection as they journeyed, as well as their crossing over the Jordan to take possession of the land promised to their forefathers. “There’s your proof!” What we are likely to miss in this exchange, however, is how chronologically far removed Micah’s generation is from the events Yahweh cites. Moses lived circa 1400 BC, Micah circa 700 BC.Yet the Lord speaks as though it was they that he had shepherded into Canaan. Why does he do this? How can he do this? It’s because “my people” are covenant people.

More than any other factor, what defines God’s people as God’s people is that they are in covenant with him. From Abraham to Micah, succeeding generations had this constant: Yahweh was their God by reason of the covenant that he made with them. This is why Zechariah, prophesying over John the Baptist some 700 years after Micah, exults in God’s remembering “his holy covenant, the oath that he swore to our father Abraham.” Importantly, this why the apostle Paul can speak of non-Jewish believers in Jesus as the “offspring of Abraham,” “the circumcision,” and “the Israel of God.” Additionally, this is why God can put to the side circumcision and dietary and ceremonial laws, things identified with God’s people for a time, because these were not what ultimately defined them.

What does this mean? As in Micah’s day, so now, we are to remember God’s faithfulness in keeping covenant, which calls for faithfulness from his people, no matter the circumstance or century.

Advent: Holding Fast

Abraham had been waiting a long time. God promised him a heritage that would bless “all the families of the earth,” but fulfillment of the promise had not been realized. What at first seemed like an extraordinary gift had become a source of frustration and disappointment. In the face of the delay, Abraham’s faith had faltered more than once and he made decisions that had unwelcome consequences. Finally, a propitious wind blew and fanned the flames of his faith and he was transformed. The promise settled into his soul and he was able to heed and trust the word of God, even a command that seemingly negated everything God had previously spoken.

Abraham’s Advent experience is instructive. He had his own period of waiting that placed huge demands on his ability to hold fast to the word that God had spoken. And though he is remembered for his willingness to raise his knife over the promised heir to slay him, convinced that God had the power to raise him from the dead, such bold believing was not always his. He lost confidence and settled for shortcuts and man-made solutions. 

His wait, however, turned out to be a mere 24 years. How long has it been since the church received the promise that Jesus would return to judge the world and gather to himself his own? Nearly 2000 years. 2000 years is a long time. Long enough to cause a soul to doubt that he's ever going to return. Long enough to drift from the teaching that promised reward on that day for the faithful, the “one who overcomes.” Long enough to convince a disciple that deferred gratification is not as sensible as immediate gratification.

This Advent, let’s ask God for the grace to hold fast to our confession of faith without wavering, believing that the one who came and gained the victory over the deceiver and the evil he unleashed is coming again to bring full restoration to all that he has made.

Standing Firm

I know you’ve experienced it. You’re standing among non-Christians, you may or may not know them, when the topic of Christianity comes up. A disparaging or inaccurate comment is made about Christ or his church and you debate within yourself, “Should I say something? I don’t want to get into an argument. I certainly don’t want things to get ugly. Should I speak up? If I do, what will these people think?” Whether we open our mouths or not, the mere fact that we have an internal debate indicates our awareness that in many circles possessing faith in Christ is not a résumé enhancement.

Feeling marginalized due to our confession of Christ is an increasingly common phenomenon. It’s a form of persecution (albeit a mild one). And the more one gets pushed to the margins, the more one feels that holding fast to that which is prompting the persecution is futile. The pressure to abandon the faith increases. But the abandonment does not take so blunt a form as cursing Christ and being done with it. It’s subtler than that. It’s leaving out the bits that cause problems. It’s majoring on issues that are palatable to the opposing populace. It’s trying really hard to blend in. It’s engaging in unilateral compromise.

The theological drift is always toward liberalism. Feeling its exclusivity and holiness the tendency is to substitute comfort food for the robust fare of the Bible. The result, succinctly described by H. Richard Niebuhr, is a message that challenges and changes no one: “A God without wrath [brings] people without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross.”

As the pages of Scripture attest, the pressure to yield our confession of faith has always plagued the church. The writer of Hebrews famously instructs his readers to “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering” (10:23). When Paul writes the believers in Philippi he feels compelled to exhort them to “[stand] firm in one spirit, with one mind” as they strive “side by side for the faith of the gospel . . . not frightened in anything by your opponents” (1:27-28). Recall Peter in the precincts of Pilate pushing aside any notion that he was somehow associated with Jesus; then the rooster crowed prompting bitter tears (Matthew 26:75). I’m not sure what form it will take for us beyond what I’ve pictured above, but we shouldn’t be surprised if we run up against stiff opposition. The challenge will be to stand firm, striving for the faith of the gospel.

What's It Worth?

Christianity is not for the faint of heart. At least that’s the impression I get from reading the epistles or the teachings of Jesus. No matter what portion of the New Testament one reads it isn’t long before the subject of suffering for the cause of Christ becomes part of the discussion. It shouldn’t surprise me, I suppose, given the fact that the one we follow was executed.

Jesus provokes controversy. And it’s not unusual for those who follow him to find themselves in trouble. The litany of Paul’s troubles (see, for example, 2 Corinthians 11:24-27) testifies to the breadth of difficulties that can attend someone who has given his life to Christ. Yet, despite the fact that Paul finds himself in unwanted, even perilous circumstances, he rejoices (see Philippians 1:12). How? Paul’s ability to rejoice while enduring persecution grows from his profound appreciation of the gospel. Like the man who stumbled upon the treasure, or the merchant who came across a pearl of unprecedented beauty, he was willing to give up everything, including his life, in order to possess Christ.  Why is the gospel so precious to him? Because he knew that grace was just that, grace, and it had been extended even to him.

It’s notable how often Paul’s persecution of the church is referred to in his writings. The depth of this sinfulness seems never to have left him, at least on this side of glory. Even in one of his last writings he remarks, “I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent “(1 Timothy 1:13), an echo of a previous statement in which he confesses, “I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God” (1 Corinthians 15:9). I think it’s this persistent memory that fuels his cherishing of the gospel. He knew that God had granted him an eternity that he did not deserve and rescued him from one that he did.

I haven’t participated in the arrest and execution of any of Jesus’ disciples, but my mocking and blasphemous tongue made me as worthy of condemnation as Paul. But God in his grace rescued me from myself. I pray I will treasure the gospel with the same warmth as Paul so that I can whole-heartedly serve him, whatever the circumstance, and confess with the apostle, “. . . to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

The Church

I spoke of the Church, with a capital C, this past Sunday. It was one of our joint services and it seemed a good time to speak of the entity with which, by God’s grace, we are identified. We considered the Church under four headings. The Church is one; the Church is universal; the Church is apostolic; and the Church is holy. 

All who confess Christ, no matter their age, gender, language, or culture, are one in Christ. This promises the real possibility of peace between peoples no matter how deeply the warring parties have been offended. All who come, from whatever tongue, tribe, or nation, partake of the life that flows from our one common source, Jesus Christ, the head of the Church.

This leads us to the next heading: the Church is universal. The fact that God intends to draw people from every nation opens up the worldwide missionary enterprise. The Church represents the most diverse collection of people of any other religion or belief system. This is because the gospel transcends cultures and tongues and gathers in peoples from across the spectrum of human expression. Contrary to the common perception that the Church is a Eurocentric entity, the most vibrant center of Church life currently is found in Africa and Asia.

The Church is also apostolic. The Church is defined by the faith proclaimed by the apostles and preserved for us in the Scriptures (Cf., Ephesians 2:20). When the Church abandons the Scriptures it abandons its message and, therefore, its reason for existence. We were sent by Jesus to bear witness to him and if we don’t believe what has been said about him we have nothing to proclaim.

Lastly, the Church is holy. It is a unique entity that has been brought into existence by a holy God to be holy unto him. The gospel is not one path among many to God nor is it merely another form of therapy. The gospel calls people to faith and repentance in Christ alone. We must resist every attempt of unbelieving critics to fold Christianity into the deck of world religions. The Church has been set apart by the grace of God to bring glory to his name and to carry out his mission on the earth.

The culture around us works hard at marginalizing the Church, painting it to be bigoted, oppressive, and a threat to an open, pluralistic society. As a result, we are often hesitant to openly identify with the Church. Truth be told, the people around us need the Church for it is the repository of the gospel, the “power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16). They need us to be faithful to and unashamed of the Church and its mission.

Do Right

Saul was told to wait until Samuel arrived so that Samuel could give him instructions as well as offer up appropriate sacrifices to the Lord. As the days drew on, and Samuel did not arrive, the pressure mounted on Saul and he buckled. He went ahead and offered the sacrifice himself. The consequences for his lack of faith were grave: the posterity of his throne would be cut off.

This is the nature of sin. It presents a way of meeting a perceived need that goes against God’s explicit command. The alternative way seems reasonable, practical, often more enjoyable, and, at times, even pious, as in the case of Saul.  But, no matter how plausible the sin seems, it is still sin. And to the extent that we choose a sinful manner of satisfying a need we express our lack of faith in God being able to meet that need.

Faith demands that we do what is right, even if doing right comes at a cost and dictates that we wait until we see God’s provision for our perceived need.