The heart of this message is to determine where we begin when it comes to theological reflection. Clearly, Scripture is the priority, but this post assumes Scripture is where we start. The question is – how do we develop our theological framework? Where do we start with our theology?
I am fully aware that it has been a long time since my last post. For the handful of people that check frequently, I apologize. As many of you may know, the past few months have been consumed with transition, and some things have fallen by the wayside – no matter how important I think they should be. One such item has been my wrestling with Scripture and theological matters in a medium where I can pour out my thoughts. Hopefully this will be more of a priority in the coming days/weeks/months/years. That being said, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about theology.
Theology is often ignored. We develop our belief systems without giving them a thorough perusal when it comes to the consistency of our beliefs. In other words, many people hold to contradicting ideas without realizing that they are contradicting. It is only in the midst of conversation that the inconsistencies come up and by then the whole issue is confusing and we are often left embarrassed. The ironic thing is that even when we do really think about what we believe, we do not often catch the inconsistencies. Do not worry, it is perfectly natural. What I want to try to do is examine where I sit when it comes to theology. This, like most major studying projects I endeavor to complete without deadline or grade, will probably go unfinished. But at least I am trying to get my theological juices flowing once again.
The best place to begin when it comes to theology is the most obvious – the beginning. Now, all theology has to be embedded in Scripture. In fact, there can be no truly Christian theology that is not. Scripture is the means by which God has been revealed throughout the centuries. Does this mean that God is not revealed through our daily experiences, the traditions of the Church or through our natural facility of reason? No, of course not, but it is through Scripture that these other three must be examined.
A couple of decades ago, there was a movement among the Methodists that centered on the “Wesleyan Quadrilateral,” or WQ for the rest of this post. Now whether or not it was intended, the WQ was used to place Scripture, Reason, Experience and Tradition on a level playing field. This is a gross misunderstanding of Wesley, as well as the general direction of Wesleyan theology for most of the past 250 years. Wesley understood Scripture as the ultimate measure of theology. If something in one of the other three did not match up, then there is something wrong with our interpretation of the other three – not with Scripture itself. However, with that all being said, I do not want to go too far down the path of Scripture’s place in theology just yet – the time is not right. The basic assumption throughout the rest of this post is that Scripture is the ultimate means by which God is made known in our day and age. Now, with that assumption in place, where do we begin in developing a theological framework? Where do we start when it comes to theology? We start with where God has been revealed.
I am beginning to read Dennis Kinlaw’s Let’s Start With Jesus, and this is going to have a major impact on the words that will follow, and certainly any of the thoughts in some of the upcoming posts. As we read Scripture, God has been revealed in several ways over the centuries. God was revealed to Abraham in the promises of Genesis. God was revealed to Moses in the burning bush. God was revealed to Isaiah in the Temple. But God has not been more fully revealed than in Jesus Christ. Any understanding of God that is not rooted in the revelation of Jesus Christ is necessarily going to fall short.
The Gospel of John begins by the writer taking the words of the creation story found in Genesis 1:1ff and revisioning them in light of Jesus Christ. Instead of “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,” John writes, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (Jn 1:1). Creation happens in John’s account as well, but it understands this creation as occuring through the eternal Word. This was a revolutionary idea in first century Judaism.
“Hear O Israel, the Lord our God; the Lord is One” (Deuteronomy 6:4). This is known as the Shema, the monotheistic cry of Israel. Israel was alone in its monotheism in ancient times. Even today, one can only find three forms of monotheism – Judaism, Islam and Christianity, but in antiquity, it was relatively unheard of for there to only be one God. But as one continues to read John’s gospel, one begins to see that this monotheism is taking a new turn. It is being reinterpreted in light of Jesus Christ. Kinlaw writes,
The key phrase in Genesis 1 is ‘and God said.’ It is significant that the Hebrew word used for God (Elohim) is plural while the verb for ‘said’ (wayyo’mer) is singular. In there beginning there was one God, but in that oneness there was a richness that a singular noun had difficulty conveying. With God was his Word, and the Word had its own distinctness. Thus, John could amplify the Genesis account and tell us that creation was the work of the Word of God (23).
It is clear by the end of the gospel that there is a unique relationship between the Son and the Father. The monotheistic cry of the Jews does not change (remember, the early Christians still considered themselves to be Jews), but it takes on a new light. No longer is God understood to be a single monad, but rather, God is understood by the end of the first century Christians to be Triune – three-in-one. It is the great mystery of faith.
So, where do we begin with our theology? It only makes sense that our theology begins with Jesus Christ. Jesus is the full representation of the Father, and our understanding of the Father needs to be re-evaluated in light of Jesus. So, as Dr. Kinlaw suggests, let’s start with Jesus.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
The Journey or the Destination: Reflections from Ezekiel 37
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I guess getting ready to move after four years of school has a way of doing that to someone. I graduated from seminary not too long ago, and as of the time of this writing, I do not exactly know where I am going. My wife has a job back home, and I will be transferring to a retail store, but no word on a ministry job just yet. It’s a very exciting time, but it is also a very uncertain time. I’m starting to get an idea of what Dickens meant when he wrote, “It was the best of time; it was the worst of times.”
I was reading Ezekiel 37 the other day, and my wife came in and asked me why I was studying. I don’t have classes anymore. I’m not required to read anything now. My response, “I finally have a chance to study what I want.” I’ve been thinking a lot about renewal lately. It is rather appropriate given that I’ve been worn down from studying pretty much since January of ’06. I haven’t taken a break from classes in well over a year. Immediately, my mind shifted to the Valley of the Dry Bones, which is found in Ezekiel 37. I’m still working through the chapter, but for the first time in a while, I felt like writing.
In Eze 37:2, the bones have been described as “very dry,” and we get the idea that this valley is full of these dry bones. To emphasize the fact that the bones are dry (in fact, the Hebrew word can also be translated, exceedingly) is to point out the total lack of life that is involved when it comes to the bones. A dry bone is about as far away from life as one can possibly get. It does not get any worse for a bone than this. This was the state of Israel. Israel was in exile at this time. Ezekiel is writing and doing ministry in Babylon among the Israelite exiles. They had gotten to the point where they were so far from life – so far from Yahweh – that they were nothing more than dry bones in a valley. However, this analogy does not end with Israel. This is also the state of those who are living life apart from Christ. In the gospel of John, Jesus says, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (Jn 14:6). If no one comes to the Father without Jesus, and the Father is also described throughout Scripture as the Creator, then there is no life outside of one’s relationship with God. Sure, there’s physical life, there’s psychological life, and there’s emotional life, but that’s not the whole story. There’s more to life than just the physical, psychological and emotional. The most important part of life is our spiritual life. There is no true life without our spiritual life. We cannot live life to the fullest unless we pay attention to the spiritual aspect of our lives, and develop the relationship with our Creator.
So, Ezekiel is taken to this valley that is full of dry bones. The sheer number and the condition of the bones have to be rather disheartening for the prophet, but then he is asked a question. “Can these bones live?” God, the creator and sustainer of all life, is asking Ezekiel if these bones can live. Of all who could possibly asking this question, one would think that God would never ask a question such as this… unless He was trying to make a point. I think Ezekiel got it. His response, “O Lord God, you know” (Eze 37:3), or as the NIV puts it, “O Sovereign Lord, you alone know.” No matter the situation, no matter how bad things may look, there is one who can bring new life – even from the driest of bones. Ezekiel got it – with God all things are possible, and God tells Ezekiel to prophesy. God tells Ezekiel to tell the bones to “hear the word of the Lord” (Eze 37:4). This is how they start to come to life – they hear the Word. In the beginning God speaks and creation happens. Every step along the way is guided by the word of God. So, what happens when Ezekiel shares the word of God with these very dry bones? There is a rattling and the bones come together, then the sinews, then the flesh, and then the skin, but there is not life just yet. Life does not happen for the bones until the breath enters into them. The Hebrew word used for breath is a fantastic word. It is ru’ach, which means breath, or spirit. In other words, the spirit of God is what ultimately brings the bones to life.
The movement from dry bones to new life is a process. There is no reason why God couldn’t have brought them back immediately. As Ezekiel made clear, with God anything is possible. It seems as though there is something important about the process, something about the journey that is key on the path to wholeness. We live in a society now that wants immediate results. We can get fast food when we’re hungry. We have gas stations and Wal-Marts that are open 24 hours a day, so we can get whatever we want whenever we want. Immediate gratification is a value in our society. We also have the other extreme.
There are parts of our society that focus more on the process and totally forget about the results. I pass a certain church on my way to work, and they usually have some banner out front that makes me wonder about the kinds of things that they teach. For a long time, they had one that said, “Real faith is about searching for answers, not presuming to know them.” You see, they place the emphasis on the quest. They emphasize the journey to the extent that it becomes what is important; it becomes the content of faith. This is just as mistaken as placing all the emphasis on the results. God has done a lot of work on me over the years, and very rarely has any big work been done immediately. Often it is a long, drawn out process because of my own stubbornness. So, I guess when the question comes up – the journey or the destination – what are we to say? I think the best answer is, “Yes, and yes.” There is a delicate balance that we have to maintain between emphasizing the journey and emphasizing the destination. We go on a road trip so that we can get somewhere, but we also go on a road trip to enjoy some of the scenery along the way. The path of spiritual renewal is both a process and a destination. The dry bones could have suddenly come to life by the hand of God, but He brought them to life through a process.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
A Perspective on History
What is so significant about history? When we read Scripture, we often see the phrase, "God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob." The Israelites had a rich tradition. Their roots went deep. It was significant that the God of their forefathers was their God. Their history was a rich one, and they knew about it. Who they are as Jews is wrapped up in their history.
Deuteronomy 6:6-9 follows a key verse known as the Shema (vv. 4-5). The Shema is widely considered to be the greatest commandment. In fact, when Jesus is asked about the greatest commandment, he replies with the Shema. "Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Dt. 6:4-5; Mk. 12:29-30).
When we read the Shema, often we stop there. I remember my accountability group memorizing vv.4-5 a couple of years ago, and we were challenged to memorize vv.6-9 as well. They go hand in hand. You cannot take vv.4-5 without also reading vv.6-9. So, what is so significant about Dt. 6:6-9? Yes, vv.4-5 are widely considered to be the most important in Judaism, but vv.6-9 demonstrate just how important it is.
Dt. 6:6 - The commandment "shall be in your heart."
The commands given by God are not intended to be rules that we follow out of some kind of formal legalism, but they are guidelines to which we submit as a form of humble obedience to God. As we continue through the Israelite history, it is clear that the former is what ended up taking place. The commandments of God were not seen as freedom to serve God, but came to be a "ball and chain" of sorts. There was the legalistic hedge built around the commands that were followed because they were there, not out of obedience to God. Over time, this heart that was supposed to keep God's commands became a heart of stone. Perhaps this is why the New Covenant refers to the heart. "And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh" (Eze. 36:26).
Dt. 6:7 - The Israelites were commanded to "teach them to your children."
The family unit is central to keeping the commands of God. It is through the family that God's commands are learned. The family model of discipleship is brought forth at this point in Scripture.
God's primary characteristic in Scripture is holiness, and God desires the same for His people. "For I am the Lord your God. Consecrate yourselves therefore, and be holy, for I am holy" (Lev. 11:44) If we are to be a holy people because God is holy, we need to follow God's expression of holiness, which is found in a perfect balance between love and righteousness. Our response to God's holiness, as a holy people of God, is to be love and obedience. In doing so, we set the example for the next generation. By responding to God's holiness through love and obedience, we set the example for our children - biological or not. By teaching God's commands to our children, we continue the legacy of our forefathers in the faith and we fulfill God's original intention of living in relationship with the one true God.
So, what's so signficant about history? Have you ever been told, "Let's not re-invent the wheel"? It seems like such a silly phrase, but what does it mean? We are not starting fresh. We stand on the shoulders of giants. The history that we read about in Scripture is not a string of stories brouth together for our amusement. It is the story of who we are. It is our story, our heritage. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is our God. Once we have an idea of where we came from we can get a better idea of where we are going.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
Deuteronomy 6:6-9 follows a key verse known as the Shema (vv. 4-5). The Shema is widely considered to be the greatest commandment. In fact, when Jesus is asked about the greatest commandment, he replies with the Shema. "Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Dt. 6:4-5; Mk. 12:29-30).
When we read the Shema, often we stop there. I remember my accountability group memorizing vv.4-5 a couple of years ago, and we were challenged to memorize vv.6-9 as well. They go hand in hand. You cannot take vv.4-5 without also reading vv.6-9. So, what is so significant about Dt. 6:6-9? Yes, vv.4-5 are widely considered to be the most important in Judaism, but vv.6-9 demonstrate just how important it is.
Dt. 6:6 - The commandment "shall be in your heart."
The commands given by God are not intended to be rules that we follow out of some kind of formal legalism, but they are guidelines to which we submit as a form of humble obedience to God. As we continue through the Israelite history, it is clear that the former is what ended up taking place. The commandments of God were not seen as freedom to serve God, but came to be a "ball and chain" of sorts. There was the legalistic hedge built around the commands that were followed because they were there, not out of obedience to God. Over time, this heart that was supposed to keep God's commands became a heart of stone. Perhaps this is why the New Covenant refers to the heart. "And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh" (Eze. 36:26).
Dt. 6:7 - The Israelites were commanded to "teach them to your children."
The family unit is central to keeping the commands of God. It is through the family that God's commands are learned. The family model of discipleship is brought forth at this point in Scripture.
God's primary characteristic in Scripture is holiness, and God desires the same for His people. "For I am the Lord your God. Consecrate yourselves therefore, and be holy, for I am holy" (Lev. 11:44) If we are to be a holy people because God is holy, we need to follow God's expression of holiness, which is found in a perfect balance between love and righteousness. Our response to God's holiness, as a holy people of God, is to be love and obedience. In doing so, we set the example for the next generation. By responding to God's holiness through love and obedience, we set the example for our children - biological or not. By teaching God's commands to our children, we continue the legacy of our forefathers in the faith and we fulfill God's original intention of living in relationship with the one true God.
So, what's so signficant about history? Have you ever been told, "Let's not re-invent the wheel"? It seems like such a silly phrase, but what does it mean? We are not starting fresh. We stand on the shoulders of giants. The history that we read about in Scripture is not a string of stories brouth together for our amusement. It is the story of who we are. It is our story, our heritage. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is our God. Once we have an idea of where we came from we can get a better idea of where we are going.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
The Ministry of a Slave
The following was a sermon preached in my PR620 class at Asbury Theological Seminary on December 4, 2006. The text below is Romans 1:1-7 and is from my translation of the Greek.
Romans 1:1-7
Paul slave of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle having been set apart into the gospel of God, which he promised through his prophets in Holy Scriptures concerning His Son who was born out of the seed of David according to the flesh, being declared the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by the resurrection of the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we received grace and apostleship into obedience of faith in all the nations for the sake of his name, among which you are also called of Jesus Christ,
To all being in Rome beloved of God, called to be holy,
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Have you ever written a letter to someone you’ve never met? Maybe it was that pen pal program in the 4th grade, or the Compassion International child in Guatemala, or – for the UM candidates in the room – that letter to your district superintendent to let him/her know that you feel called to ministry. What do you say? It’s awkward; it’s uncomfortable, but sometimes, it’s necessary. What do you write these people that you’ve never met?
When Paul wrote the church in Rome, he faced this same sort of dilemma. This was a church that he did not establish. This was a church that he had never even seen. But this was also a church in the center of the Roman world – it was in the heart of the political, economic and cultural center of the world. It was a church with which Paul wanted to establish a relationship. It was a church that had the potential to reach across the entire Roman Empire. Now, maybe what we had to write to our 4th grade pen pal from the school across town didn’t have this type of magnitude, but nonetheless, the type of information given is similar. So, where do we start? We, like Paul, begin by writing about who we are.
Paul starts his letter with a description of who he is. In some translations, Paul is a servant of Christ, but his language is much stronger than simply “servant.” He describes himself as a douloj, or a slave, of Christ Jesus. While servant is not necessarily an inaccurate translation of the word, it doesn’t really catch all the nuances. When we think of “servants,” we think of someone who is hired labor. There is a certain amount of liberty that comes with being a servant, even though there are some demands placed on the servant by others. However, when we think of “slaves,” we get a very different picture.
We think of the Civil War, Roots, the Underground Railroad. We think of forced servitude in which the slave has no choice but to obey the master. Now while the American system of slavery differed from the Greco-Roman system, those are the same type of connotations that would come across. There really is no individual freedom when it comes to slavery. The slave must be fully obedient to the master.
Later on in the letter, Paul speaks about what it means to be a slave. In 6:15-23, he uses the term six times and the verb form two more times, but it is found nowhere else throughout the letter. In 6:16, Paul tells us that a person is a slave of the one that he/she obeys – we can either be slaves of sin, or slaves of righteousness. For Paul, then, to describe himself as a slave of Christ means that he is pointing to whom he obeys. More importantly, this is the first thing that Paul says about himself.
We all know the story of Paul – we can read the litany of his pre-Christian pedigree in Philippians 3, we can read the story of his call in Acts 9, we can follow his missionary journeys throughout the rest of Acts. There are hundreds of things to which he can point if he wanted to impress somebody with his credentials, but he doesn’t. The first thing Paul says about himself is that he is a douloj of Christ Jesus. You see, Paul’s identity is not wrapped up in who he is, but rather, in whose he is. Being a slave of Christ Jesus frames everything else that Paul has to say about himself, and this is no less applicable to us today.
Perhaps it is appropriate, then, that the next characteristic Paul uses to describe himself is that of apostleship. Conceptually, apostleship and slavery are two very different things, but Paul appears to be linking them here. An apostle was one who had leadership in the early church. Typically, an apostle was one who had seen the risen Lord, and most often we associate the title apostle with the twelve disciples. On the other hand, a slave was one who had nothing in the eyes of the Roman world. Even more, in some circles, they were considered to be nothing more than tools to be used and thrown away.
Nevertheless, Paul seems to think of his apostleship as subservient to being a slave of Christ. Paul’s apostleship comes out of his total submission to Christ. In other words, Paul is saying that to be an apostle, one must be a slave. For one to be an apostle – to be “sent out,” as the Greek word suggests – one must be willing to submit his/her whole life to Christ. We, as future leaders of the Christian church, are not exempt from this mandate either. If we are truly called to be sent out into the world for the sake of the gospel, then we have no choice but to recognize that we are to live our lives of apostleship as slaves of Christ. Apart from Christ, our apostleship is nothing more than a quest for attention.
We live in a society that points to what we do and what we have as the primary identifiers of who we are, but this is a lie. What we do should be in response to the life that we have in Christ, and what we have is nothing compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus, as Paul writes in Philippians 3. All that we are and have should be framed by our relationship to Jesus. We are not what we do. Our identity comes from the one who laid down his life for our own. For us, just as it was for Paul, who we are is not as important as whose we are.
But wait a minute! Paul is introducing himself, not speaking in general terms for all Christians, right? Isn’t he just letting the Roman Christians know who he is before going into some deeper theological material? Or is there something more going on here? Notice the shift in language beginning in verse 4. It’s subtle, but important.
Who is the gospel about? Who is the descendant of the line of David, according to the flesh? Who does the Spirit of holiness declare to be the Son of God? Who is it that was resurrected from the dead? Jesus Christ our Lord. Paul doesn’t say, “Jesus Christ my Lord,” but it’s “Jesus Christ our Lord.” And it is through him that “we received grace and apostleship.” Paul has moved away from simply introducing himself to the Roman Christians, and is making the point that they are also called to apostleship. They are called to be sent out to all the nations as well. It is not just Paul who is sent out among the nations; it is all Christians.
When Jesus calls the disciples in Mark 3:14-15, his purposes are twofold: 1) that they may be with him, and 2) that they may be sent out. The call of discipleship still rings out today, and these same purposes still exist. Our first call is to be with Christ. It is only when we are with Christ that we can truly be sent out for the sake of the gospel. And we can only be sent out if we have submitted ourselves to Christ.
Paul’s self-identification as a slave is a recognition of his proper position before the Lord. Not only does it frame Paul’s apostleship, but it is intended to frame our apostleship. You see, Paul’s introduction is more than just personal information for us to gloss over as we get to the meat of the letter. It frames the entire letter – not only so they may know who he is, but that the readers may know who they are.
Paul understood himself as a person redeemed by the grace of God. He understood himself to be free from the sin that permeated his life before he encountered Christ on the road to Damascus. He could look back on his life and see that once he was a slave to sin, but now he is something different. He is no longer enslaved by the power of sin, but has been set free – free to obey a new master, Christ. It is this very same Christ that came as a baby two thousand years ago to set us free so that we can look back at what our lives used to be, and then look forward and kneel before the Lord in total submission, recognizing our proper position before Him.
As we enter the season of Advent – a season of hope and expectation – let us remember that the way to the cross begins with a manger. While Paul offers his call as an example of an appropriate response to grace, we must also remember the example that Paul followed. The example given by God, the Creator of the universe, who came to earth, took on flesh and began the plan of redemption as a baby. The ultimate example of servitude was offered by the one who has no master. It is this example that we must set for those we serve. It is the recognition of who we are in Christ.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
Romans 1:1-7
Paul slave of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle having been set apart into the gospel of God, which he promised through his prophets in Holy Scriptures concerning His Son who was born out of the seed of David according to the flesh, being declared the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by the resurrection of the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we received grace and apostleship into obedience of faith in all the nations for the sake of his name, among which you are also called of Jesus Christ,
To all being in Rome beloved of God, called to be holy,
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Have you ever written a letter to someone you’ve never met? Maybe it was that pen pal program in the 4th grade, or the Compassion International child in Guatemala, or – for the UM candidates in the room – that letter to your district superintendent to let him/her know that you feel called to ministry. What do you say? It’s awkward; it’s uncomfortable, but sometimes, it’s necessary. What do you write these people that you’ve never met?
When Paul wrote the church in Rome, he faced this same sort of dilemma. This was a church that he did not establish. This was a church that he had never even seen. But this was also a church in the center of the Roman world – it was in the heart of the political, economic and cultural center of the world. It was a church with which Paul wanted to establish a relationship. It was a church that had the potential to reach across the entire Roman Empire. Now, maybe what we had to write to our 4th grade pen pal from the school across town didn’t have this type of magnitude, but nonetheless, the type of information given is similar. So, where do we start? We, like Paul, begin by writing about who we are.
Paul starts his letter with a description of who he is. In some translations, Paul is a servant of Christ, but his language is much stronger than simply “servant.” He describes himself as a douloj, or a slave, of Christ Jesus. While servant is not necessarily an inaccurate translation of the word, it doesn’t really catch all the nuances. When we think of “servants,” we think of someone who is hired labor. There is a certain amount of liberty that comes with being a servant, even though there are some demands placed on the servant by others. However, when we think of “slaves,” we get a very different picture.
We think of the Civil War, Roots, the Underground Railroad. We think of forced servitude in which the slave has no choice but to obey the master. Now while the American system of slavery differed from the Greco-Roman system, those are the same type of connotations that would come across. There really is no individual freedom when it comes to slavery. The slave must be fully obedient to the master.
Later on in the letter, Paul speaks about what it means to be a slave. In 6:15-23, he uses the term six times and the verb form two more times, but it is found nowhere else throughout the letter. In 6:16, Paul tells us that a person is a slave of the one that he/she obeys – we can either be slaves of sin, or slaves of righteousness. For Paul, then, to describe himself as a slave of Christ means that he is pointing to whom he obeys. More importantly, this is the first thing that Paul says about himself.
We all know the story of Paul – we can read the litany of his pre-Christian pedigree in Philippians 3, we can read the story of his call in Acts 9, we can follow his missionary journeys throughout the rest of Acts. There are hundreds of things to which he can point if he wanted to impress somebody with his credentials, but he doesn’t. The first thing Paul says about himself is that he is a douloj of Christ Jesus. You see, Paul’s identity is not wrapped up in who he is, but rather, in whose he is. Being a slave of Christ Jesus frames everything else that Paul has to say about himself, and this is no less applicable to us today.
Perhaps it is appropriate, then, that the next characteristic Paul uses to describe himself is that of apostleship. Conceptually, apostleship and slavery are two very different things, but Paul appears to be linking them here. An apostle was one who had leadership in the early church. Typically, an apostle was one who had seen the risen Lord, and most often we associate the title apostle with the twelve disciples. On the other hand, a slave was one who had nothing in the eyes of the Roman world. Even more, in some circles, they were considered to be nothing more than tools to be used and thrown away.
Nevertheless, Paul seems to think of his apostleship as subservient to being a slave of Christ. Paul’s apostleship comes out of his total submission to Christ. In other words, Paul is saying that to be an apostle, one must be a slave. For one to be an apostle – to be “sent out,” as the Greek word suggests – one must be willing to submit his/her whole life to Christ. We, as future leaders of the Christian church, are not exempt from this mandate either. If we are truly called to be sent out into the world for the sake of the gospel, then we have no choice but to recognize that we are to live our lives of apostleship as slaves of Christ. Apart from Christ, our apostleship is nothing more than a quest for attention.
We live in a society that points to what we do and what we have as the primary identifiers of who we are, but this is a lie. What we do should be in response to the life that we have in Christ, and what we have is nothing compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus, as Paul writes in Philippians 3. All that we are and have should be framed by our relationship to Jesus. We are not what we do. Our identity comes from the one who laid down his life for our own. For us, just as it was for Paul, who we are is not as important as whose we are.
But wait a minute! Paul is introducing himself, not speaking in general terms for all Christians, right? Isn’t he just letting the Roman Christians know who he is before going into some deeper theological material? Or is there something more going on here? Notice the shift in language beginning in verse 4. It’s subtle, but important.
Who is the gospel about? Who is the descendant of the line of David, according to the flesh? Who does the Spirit of holiness declare to be the Son of God? Who is it that was resurrected from the dead? Jesus Christ our Lord. Paul doesn’t say, “Jesus Christ my Lord,” but it’s “Jesus Christ our Lord.” And it is through him that “we received grace and apostleship.” Paul has moved away from simply introducing himself to the Roman Christians, and is making the point that they are also called to apostleship. They are called to be sent out to all the nations as well. It is not just Paul who is sent out among the nations; it is all Christians.
When Jesus calls the disciples in Mark 3:14-15, his purposes are twofold: 1) that they may be with him, and 2) that they may be sent out. The call of discipleship still rings out today, and these same purposes still exist. Our first call is to be with Christ. It is only when we are with Christ that we can truly be sent out for the sake of the gospel. And we can only be sent out if we have submitted ourselves to Christ.
Paul’s self-identification as a slave is a recognition of his proper position before the Lord. Not only does it frame Paul’s apostleship, but it is intended to frame our apostleship. You see, Paul’s introduction is more than just personal information for us to gloss over as we get to the meat of the letter. It frames the entire letter – not only so they may know who he is, but that the readers may know who they are.
Paul understood himself as a person redeemed by the grace of God. He understood himself to be free from the sin that permeated his life before he encountered Christ on the road to Damascus. He could look back on his life and see that once he was a slave to sin, but now he is something different. He is no longer enslaved by the power of sin, but has been set free – free to obey a new master, Christ. It is this very same Christ that came as a baby two thousand years ago to set us free so that we can look back at what our lives used to be, and then look forward and kneel before the Lord in total submission, recognizing our proper position before Him.
As we enter the season of Advent – a season of hope and expectation – let us remember that the way to the cross begins with a manger. While Paul offers his call as an example of an appropriate response to grace, we must also remember the example that Paul followed. The example given by God, the Creator of the universe, who came to earth, took on flesh and began the plan of redemption as a baby. The ultimate example of servitude was offered by the one who has no master. It is this example that we must set for those we serve. It is the recognition of who we are in Christ.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
Trusting God in Times of Difficulty
The following is a sermon that I wrote and preached in PR620, my preaching class at Asbury Theological Seminary. This was actually the second sermon I have ever preached, and I thought I'd throw it out there for y'all to see. Hopefully it will speak a timely word to someone out there as we approach the season of Thanksgiving and Christmas.
10 Again the LORD spoke to Ahaz, 11 "Ask the LORD your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights." 12 But Ahaz said, "I will not ask; I will not put the LORD to the test." 13 Then Isaiah said, "Hear now, you house of David! Is it not enough to try the patience of men? Will you try the patience of my God also? 14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. 15 He will eat curds and honey when he knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right. 16 But before the boy knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, the land of the two kings you dread will be laid waste. (Isaiah 7:10-16).
We’ve all had difficult times. This time of the year we’re stressed out about papers, presentations, tests and sermons. The weather outside is constantly changing, playing havoc on our sinuses. Some of us here tonight are probably battling some sort of illness. To top it off, we live in uncertain times - wars in Iraq and Afghanistan; reports of nuclear tests in North Korea. There is no doubt that these are troubling times, and our response in the midst of these challenging times is the true mark of our faith. Now, let’s flashback to Palestine 2800 years ago.
Ahaz is the king of Judah, the southern kingdom. The Assyrian Empire is the greatest military force seen since the days of Egypt, having much of the area under its control. Syria, Israel and Judah are among the kingdoms paying tribute to the Assyrians, when Syria and Israel get the outlandish idea to join together and go against Assyria. This plan includes Judah. However, Ahaz is no fool. He wants nothing to do with the situation, and refuses to join them. At this point, the kings of Syria and Israel decide to march against Judah, overthrow Ahaz and replace him with someone who would bring Judah into the alliance. Undoubtedly, these are troubling times, and it is into this context that God speaks.
There are three key elements in the situation surrounding Isaiah’s meeting with Ahaz. First, Isaiah is accompanied by his son, Shear-Jashub, whose name means, “a remnant will return.” Second, Isaiah is to meet Ahaz at the end of an aqueduct. Aqueducts were important structures in the ancient world, especially in the event of a seige by an enemy army. Third, the meeting also takes place on the highway. Highways in the ancient world served two major purposes – as trade routes and as a way to easily move military forces. As you can imagine, Ahaz sees the irony of the situation. He is already worried about the coming armies of Syria and Israel, and now he is meeting with Isaiah surrounded by the symbolism of war. In spite of the symbolism surrounding the meeting and the dark cloud of war hanging over the nation, Isaiah is there to give Ahaz comfort.
Even when all of the signs point to the unthinkable as an immanent reality, God is still present. Remember the story of Joseph? His brothers sold him into slavery. He was eventually thrown into prison, but he ended up as Pharaoh’s second in command and saved the line of Israel in time of famine. And what about Acts 12 when Peter is in prison? Things were not looking good for him. Shortly after Herod had James killed, he arrested Peter, presumably with the same intention. The night before Herod was going to try Peter, a group was praying for Peter’s release. An angel appeared to Peter and helped him escape. No matter how dark the situation looks from our perspective, God is still in charge, and He has a way of turning situations around. The question here is, “Will Ahaz let God turn things around for Judah?”
Isaiah’s message of comfort is found in 7:7-9. He tells Ahaz that the plans made against him by the rulers of Syria and Israel will not come to pass, and this word of comfort also comes with a greater promise. “If you do not stand firm, you will not stand at all” (Is. 7:9b). Isaiah promises that Ahaz will make it through this difficult time, in spite of all that is coming his way, in spite of how bad things look at this time, and to top it off, he will be established by God if he only remains faithful.
The second part of the message is tonight’s Scripture, and it was intended to increase Ahaz’s faith. Isaiah tells him to ask for a sign as proof of the promise just given. Biblically speaking a sign typically has a twofold purpose. First of all, it points to something beyond itself. Secondly, it encourages one’s faith. While it is not unheard of for God to give a sign – He does so in 1 Sam 10 after Saul is anointed as king – it is not very common outside of the ministry of Jesus. So the Lord offering a sign to Ahaz was a pretty big deal. Ahaz’s response in this particular situation is indicative of where his heart is and does not reflect the kind of response that the Lord was wanting from Judah’s king.
On the surface, Ahaz’s response is actually very good. Deuteronomy 6:16 is a specific commandment that says, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” We’ve heard this quoted before, haven’t we? It is the same response that Jesus gives Satan at the pinnacle of the temple in Matthew 4:5-7, when Satan tells Jesus to throw himself down and let the angels catch him. So, for Ahaz to refuse to test the Lord is actually a very pious thing, and an act of obedience to the Mosaic Law. Actually, let me correct myself, it is an act of obedience to the letter of the Mosaic Law. You see, this is Isaiah’s problem with Ahaz’s response. If we read the flow of the narrative, it doesn’t seem to make much sense for Isaiah to be so upset with Ahaz. His reaction does not seem to fit with Ahaz’s response. Isaiah appears to be displeased with Ahaz, but on the surface, all Ahaz does is defer to the commands of the Mosaic Law. So, why would Isaiah react in such a way?
Isaiah’s response comes out of knowing the heart of Ahaz. Ahaz was not considered to be a good king. He may have been politically savvy and able to temporarily save Judah from Israel and Syria, so in the eyes of the world, he may have been a successful king; however the Old Testament reveals a different standard, and it is a standard that we all face – the standard of righteousness. The writer of 2 Chronicles gives the following verdict on Ahaz’s reign, “He did not do what was right in the sight of the Lord” (2 Chron 28:1). If we look at 2 Kings 16, we see the same statement. Idolatry and child sacrifice were among the charges brought against him; neither of which were really all that uncommon in his day, nor were they really condemned outside of Scripture. While the annals of history may look favorably upon what Ahaz accomplished in his reign, Scripture gives a different measurement. And let’s think about it, how much do we know now about Ahaz’s reign in Judah? Outside of Scripture, what sources even mention Ahaz and the things he accomplished as king? His legacy is forever linked to his unfaithfulness, not to his worldly success. And let’s not fool ourselves, the same measure stands for us today.
Ahaz’s response to Isaiah’s request to ask for a sign was met with such contempt because it reflected the same unfaithfulness that was seen throughout his life. Ahaz had no intention of trusting in the Lord. Shortly after this meeting, Ahaz would ask the Assyrian king for help. In doing so, he allowed one of the world’s most ruthless armies to camp in his backyard. Sure, it eased the problems he had with Syria and Israel, but it also brought on a whole new set of issues for his country to deal with after his death. Ahaz fell into the trap of thinking that the Lord was just like the other gods of the ancient world. If you say and do the right things, then they would be on your side. But God isn’t like that. God is not satisfied with us simply going through the motions of faith, all the while lacking true faith. God looks deeper, even to the depths of our hearts.
In spite of Ahaz’s response, the Lord gives him a sign. It’s known as the Sign of Immanuel, and throughout Christian history it has been understood to have fulfilled something far beyond what Isaiah was talking about. A young woman who was not yet married would conceive and bear a son, whose name will be Immanuel, which means “God with us.” Before the time when this child would know the difference between good and evil, the enemies of Judah will be no more. In the immediate context, Isaiah was either talking about a young woman who was near, or the prophetess who is mentioned in 8:3. The demise of Syria and Israel was not far off.
However, Matthew 1:23 views the prophecy in a new light. Matthew sees the birth of Jesus as the ultimate fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. Immanuel, “God with us,” cannot be more fulfilled than it is in Christ Jesus, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. And not only does Jesus bring forth the fullness of the prophecy, he shows a completely different response in the midst of troubling times. Where Ahaz fails, Jesus gives the ultimate demonstration. On the eve of his arrest, Jesus is praying in the garden at Gethsemane. He knows what awaits him in the coming day, and yet, he submits himself to God.
In the face of difficult times, Ahaz decided that it was best to rely on the strength of the Assyrian army, rather than on the trustworthiness of God. Now, contrast that attitude with the attitude of Jesus. In the face of all sorts of trials and persecution, Jesus never strayed from obedience to the Father. Was it difficult? I think Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane shows the inner struggle that he was going through, but he obeyed the Father no matter the cost. And ultimately it cost him his life. Jesus humbled himself to the point death, and through this humbleness, he was highly exalted by God. What did Ahaz’s response get him? Until Christ returns, people will learn from Ahaz that there are severe consequences for failing to trust in the Lord. He will always be the example of what NOT to do.
So, the question tonight is, “Who will you rely on in the difficult times?” Will you look for strength within the context of what the world thinks is right? Will you dig down deep, pull yourself up by the bootstraps and plow through the difficult times? Or will you seek a different path? Will you have the courage to rely on God in faith? Will you look away from what the world says is right and towards the refuge that is available by the grace of God through Christ Jesus?
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim
10 Again the LORD spoke to Ahaz, 11 "Ask the LORD your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights." 12 But Ahaz said, "I will not ask; I will not put the LORD to the test." 13 Then Isaiah said, "Hear now, you house of David! Is it not enough to try the patience of men? Will you try the patience of my God also? 14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. 15 He will eat curds and honey when he knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right. 16 But before the boy knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, the land of the two kings you dread will be laid waste. (Isaiah 7:10-16).
We’ve all had difficult times. This time of the year we’re stressed out about papers, presentations, tests and sermons. The weather outside is constantly changing, playing havoc on our sinuses. Some of us here tonight are probably battling some sort of illness. To top it off, we live in uncertain times - wars in Iraq and Afghanistan; reports of nuclear tests in North Korea. There is no doubt that these are troubling times, and our response in the midst of these challenging times is the true mark of our faith. Now, let’s flashback to Palestine 2800 years ago.
Ahaz is the king of Judah, the southern kingdom. The Assyrian Empire is the greatest military force seen since the days of Egypt, having much of the area under its control. Syria, Israel and Judah are among the kingdoms paying tribute to the Assyrians, when Syria and Israel get the outlandish idea to join together and go against Assyria. This plan includes Judah. However, Ahaz is no fool. He wants nothing to do with the situation, and refuses to join them. At this point, the kings of Syria and Israel decide to march against Judah, overthrow Ahaz and replace him with someone who would bring Judah into the alliance. Undoubtedly, these are troubling times, and it is into this context that God speaks.
There are three key elements in the situation surrounding Isaiah’s meeting with Ahaz. First, Isaiah is accompanied by his son, Shear-Jashub, whose name means, “a remnant will return.” Second, Isaiah is to meet Ahaz at the end of an aqueduct. Aqueducts were important structures in the ancient world, especially in the event of a seige by an enemy army. Third, the meeting also takes place on the highway. Highways in the ancient world served two major purposes – as trade routes and as a way to easily move military forces. As you can imagine, Ahaz sees the irony of the situation. He is already worried about the coming armies of Syria and Israel, and now he is meeting with Isaiah surrounded by the symbolism of war. In spite of the symbolism surrounding the meeting and the dark cloud of war hanging over the nation, Isaiah is there to give Ahaz comfort.
Even when all of the signs point to the unthinkable as an immanent reality, God is still present. Remember the story of Joseph? His brothers sold him into slavery. He was eventually thrown into prison, but he ended up as Pharaoh’s second in command and saved the line of Israel in time of famine. And what about Acts 12 when Peter is in prison? Things were not looking good for him. Shortly after Herod had James killed, he arrested Peter, presumably with the same intention. The night before Herod was going to try Peter, a group was praying for Peter’s release. An angel appeared to Peter and helped him escape. No matter how dark the situation looks from our perspective, God is still in charge, and He has a way of turning situations around. The question here is, “Will Ahaz let God turn things around for Judah?”
Isaiah’s message of comfort is found in 7:7-9. He tells Ahaz that the plans made against him by the rulers of Syria and Israel will not come to pass, and this word of comfort also comes with a greater promise. “If you do not stand firm, you will not stand at all” (Is. 7:9b). Isaiah promises that Ahaz will make it through this difficult time, in spite of all that is coming his way, in spite of how bad things look at this time, and to top it off, he will be established by God if he only remains faithful.
The second part of the message is tonight’s Scripture, and it was intended to increase Ahaz’s faith. Isaiah tells him to ask for a sign as proof of the promise just given. Biblically speaking a sign typically has a twofold purpose. First of all, it points to something beyond itself. Secondly, it encourages one’s faith. While it is not unheard of for God to give a sign – He does so in 1 Sam 10 after Saul is anointed as king – it is not very common outside of the ministry of Jesus. So the Lord offering a sign to Ahaz was a pretty big deal. Ahaz’s response in this particular situation is indicative of where his heart is and does not reflect the kind of response that the Lord was wanting from Judah’s king.
On the surface, Ahaz’s response is actually very good. Deuteronomy 6:16 is a specific commandment that says, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” We’ve heard this quoted before, haven’t we? It is the same response that Jesus gives Satan at the pinnacle of the temple in Matthew 4:5-7, when Satan tells Jesus to throw himself down and let the angels catch him. So, for Ahaz to refuse to test the Lord is actually a very pious thing, and an act of obedience to the Mosaic Law. Actually, let me correct myself, it is an act of obedience to the letter of the Mosaic Law. You see, this is Isaiah’s problem with Ahaz’s response. If we read the flow of the narrative, it doesn’t seem to make much sense for Isaiah to be so upset with Ahaz. His reaction does not seem to fit with Ahaz’s response. Isaiah appears to be displeased with Ahaz, but on the surface, all Ahaz does is defer to the commands of the Mosaic Law. So, why would Isaiah react in such a way?
Isaiah’s response comes out of knowing the heart of Ahaz. Ahaz was not considered to be a good king. He may have been politically savvy and able to temporarily save Judah from Israel and Syria, so in the eyes of the world, he may have been a successful king; however the Old Testament reveals a different standard, and it is a standard that we all face – the standard of righteousness. The writer of 2 Chronicles gives the following verdict on Ahaz’s reign, “He did not do what was right in the sight of the Lord” (2 Chron 28:1). If we look at 2 Kings 16, we see the same statement. Idolatry and child sacrifice were among the charges brought against him; neither of which were really all that uncommon in his day, nor were they really condemned outside of Scripture. While the annals of history may look favorably upon what Ahaz accomplished in his reign, Scripture gives a different measurement. And let’s think about it, how much do we know now about Ahaz’s reign in Judah? Outside of Scripture, what sources even mention Ahaz and the things he accomplished as king? His legacy is forever linked to his unfaithfulness, not to his worldly success. And let’s not fool ourselves, the same measure stands for us today.
Ahaz’s response to Isaiah’s request to ask for a sign was met with such contempt because it reflected the same unfaithfulness that was seen throughout his life. Ahaz had no intention of trusting in the Lord. Shortly after this meeting, Ahaz would ask the Assyrian king for help. In doing so, he allowed one of the world’s most ruthless armies to camp in his backyard. Sure, it eased the problems he had with Syria and Israel, but it also brought on a whole new set of issues for his country to deal with after his death. Ahaz fell into the trap of thinking that the Lord was just like the other gods of the ancient world. If you say and do the right things, then they would be on your side. But God isn’t like that. God is not satisfied with us simply going through the motions of faith, all the while lacking true faith. God looks deeper, even to the depths of our hearts.
In spite of Ahaz’s response, the Lord gives him a sign. It’s known as the Sign of Immanuel, and throughout Christian history it has been understood to have fulfilled something far beyond what Isaiah was talking about. A young woman who was not yet married would conceive and bear a son, whose name will be Immanuel, which means “God with us.” Before the time when this child would know the difference between good and evil, the enemies of Judah will be no more. In the immediate context, Isaiah was either talking about a young woman who was near, or the prophetess who is mentioned in 8:3. The demise of Syria and Israel was not far off.
However, Matthew 1:23 views the prophecy in a new light. Matthew sees the birth of Jesus as the ultimate fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. Immanuel, “God with us,” cannot be more fulfilled than it is in Christ Jesus, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. And not only does Jesus bring forth the fullness of the prophecy, he shows a completely different response in the midst of troubling times. Where Ahaz fails, Jesus gives the ultimate demonstration. On the eve of his arrest, Jesus is praying in the garden at Gethsemane. He knows what awaits him in the coming day, and yet, he submits himself to God.
In the face of difficult times, Ahaz decided that it was best to rely on the strength of the Assyrian army, rather than on the trustworthiness of God. Now, contrast that attitude with the attitude of Jesus. In the face of all sorts of trials and persecution, Jesus never strayed from obedience to the Father. Was it difficult? I think Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane shows the inner struggle that he was going through, but he obeyed the Father no matter the cost. And ultimately it cost him his life. Jesus humbled himself to the point death, and through this humbleness, he was highly exalted by God. What did Ahaz’s response get him? Until Christ returns, people will learn from Ahaz that there are severe consequences for failing to trust in the Lord. He will always be the example of what NOT to do.
So, the question tonight is, “Who will you rely on in the difficult times?” Will you look for strength within the context of what the world thinks is right? Will you dig down deep, pull yourself up by the bootstraps and plow through the difficult times? Or will you seek a different path? Will you have the courage to rely on God in faith? Will you look away from what the world says is right and towards the refuge that is available by the grace of God through Christ Jesus?
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim
The Call to Discipleship
As I've been preparing for ministry, one common theme has continually popped up. It is where I believe my primary work in ministry will rest. It is something to which all Christians are called, but very few take the time to equip themselves properly. It is a call to discipleship. What does it mean to be a disciple? Discipleship is much more than simply being a believer. As we read through Mark's gospel, we see two distinct callings for the Twelve.
In Mark 1:16-20, Jesus is walking along the Sea of Galilee and sees Simon (Peter) and Andrew casting their nets into the sea. He calls out to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Mk 1:17). He then goes a little further calls to James and John, the sons of Zebedee. They too drop what they are doing and begin to follow Jesus.
This is the individual call to follow Jesus. Jesus comes to each of us with the call to follow him. Peter, Andrew, James and John immediately stop what they are doing and begin to follow Jesus. Peter and Andrew are in the midst of casting their nets when Jesus calls, and Mark tells us that they left their nets. I'm making a bit of an assumption here, but there is no indication that they brought in their nets before they left to follow Jesus. Mark writes, "They immediately left their nets and followed him" (Mk 1:18). He then goes to James and John, who stop mending their nets and leave their father in the boat with the hired help. The call to discipleship takes precedence over all areas of our lives, even our jobs and our family.
As we continue in Mark's gospel, the writer relates a series of healings. Demons are cast out and silenced, Peter's mother-in-law is healed, the multitudes are also healed. Jesus did not do this without the assistance of the Father either. Right in the middle of this section, Mark writes, "Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daylight, He went out and departed to a solitary place; and there He prayed" (Mk 1:35). Jesus' power to heal comes from his connection with the Father. Mark then relates the healing of a leper (Mk 1:40-45) and a paralytic (Mk 2:1-12) before something familiar happens.
In Mk 1:16, Jesus is said to be walking by the Sea of Galilee. It is then that he calls Peter and Andrew, and a bit later James and John. In Mk 2:13, Jesus is also said to be walking beside the sea. He comes upon Levi the son of Alphaeus, who was a tax collector. Levi (also known as Matthew, see Mt 9:9), at Jesus' call, leaves his tax office and begins to follow Jesus. Mark seems to bookend the stories of healing and casting out demons with the calling of specific disciples. There is something about Jesus' ability to heal and restore life that is related to discipleship. If Jesus can heal the physical ailments of this life, how much more can he heal the spiritual? The basic condition of humanity is a fallen nature that is in need of restoration and redemption, and through Jesus Christ, this redemption and restoration is possible.
In Mark 2:18, Jesus begins by relating the Parable of Cloth and Wineskins. Jesus' words strike at the very heart of the established religion of his day. "No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; or else the new piece pulls away from the old, and the tear is made worse. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine bursts the wineskins, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But new wine must be put in new wineskins" (Mk 2:21-22 NKJV). At first glance, this parable appears to be out of place; however, if one were to look at the wider context of the parable, something else comes to the surface. What follows are three key stories concerning Jesus and his relations with the religious establishment of the day.
In the first one (Mk 2:23-28), the disciples are plucking the heads of the grain in the fields so that they may have something to eat. The Pharisees question whether or not this is breaking the Sabbath. The idea is that the disciples are explicitly doing work on a day in which work was forbidden. Jesus addresses the Pharisees by retelling the story of David found in 1 Samuel 21. Jesus concludes by saying that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. In other words, the Sabbath was intended to be a time of rest, not of strict adherence to the Pharisaic laws of the day, which were more of a burden than a blessing.
The second story has to do with Jesus healing a man who had a "withered" hand. The word used is exeranthe, which points to the idea of something being dried up. It is often used in the Old Testament in reference to rivers, streams, or even the earth (in the case of the flood) being dried up. In Israel, as everywhere else, water is an important commodity; one that symbolizes life. To say that something was "dried up" would imply that there is no life in it. In other words, this man's hand had no life in it. It was useless. The Pharisees watched Jesus to see what he would do in this instance, and he asks them a question, "Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?" (Mk 3:4). They did not respond because they wanted to accuse Jesus of working on the Sabbath. Jesus was grieved by the hardness that they displayed in their reaction to his question, and he healed the man. The Pharisees took the letter of the Law over the heart of the Law. Jesus points out that healing, the restorative physical action, is more important and gets to the heart of the Law.
The third story comes out of the Pharisees' response to Jesus' actions. In Mk 3:6, it is said that they began to plot with the Herodians (a secular political party) on how to kill Jesus. Jesus goes out from that meeting and continues his ministry of healing throughout the region. All the while, he is silencing the evil spirits who know Jesus' true identity as the Son of God.
It is at this point that the reader sees the second call of Jesus. In Mk 3:13-19, Jesus brings around him the Twelve, whose names are listed in vv. 16-19. The purpose for bringing them near is stated in the text, "that they might be with Him and that He might send them out to preach, and to have power to heal sicknesses and to cast out demons" (Mk 3:14-15). Before getting to this two-part calling, I would like to take a minute or two to delve into the Greek text.
Mark 3:13 states, "And He went up on the mountain and called to Him those He Himself wanted. And they came to Him." There is a lot lost in the nuances of the Greek once it is translated into English. In the Greek language there are several tenses. In English, we only really have past, present and future. Greek has six tenses: aorist, imperfect, pluperfect, present, perfect and future. In the Greek, time is not the only thing indicated in the tense. Greek also gives the sense of the action that is in view. For example, the aorist tense looks at an event as a whole. Imagine a parade. The aorist tense would look at the parade from start to finish and see it as though it were a snapshot - example, "I saw a parade." The present tense would see the parade as it is passing by - example, "I am seeing a parade." The imperfect tense would describe the parade as it passed by - example, "I was seeing a parade". The perfect, pluperfect and future tenses are not really relevant to the upcoming information, and so I will not address them at this time. So, why is the information on the present, imperfect and aorist tenses important?
There are four verbs listed in the Mark 3:13 passage. Let me translate it from the Greek and italicize the verbs that are used, as they appear in the Greek text. "And he is going up into the mountain and he is calling to himself those who he was wanting, and they came to him." Notice the verb tenses. The first two verbs are present tense verbs. Scholars have pointed out that there is such a usage of the present tense known as the historical present. Often an author will use the present tense in describing a past event in order to draw the audience in. The next verb is in the imperfect tense. It describes the motion of the verb in past time. Jesus "was wanting" these particular people. The final verb is in the aorist tense - "They came." What I find most facinating about all of this grammatical stuff is that Mark could have easily used the imperfect tense for the first two verbs (in fact, this is what one would expect to see here), but he intentionally chose to use the present tense. Jesus did not just call the Twelve, but he continues to call each of us even in this present time. Jesus' calling of the disciples may begin with the Twelve, but in no way does it end with them. And now the question is, "What does this call look like?"
I mentioned above that there is a two-part calling in vv.14-15. The first part of Jesus' call to his disciples is that they may "be with him." Discipleship requires that we spend time with Jesus. The first call of the disciple is to be with Jesus - that the students be in the presence of the Master. The second part of the calling has to do with the ministry that grows out of the relationship they have with Christ. It is because they are with Jesus that they can preach, heal the sick and cast out the demons. Just like Jesus in Mk 1:35, we have to be aware of the source of our power and stay connected to that source in order for the ministry that we undertake be faithful to the calling of Jesus Christ.
I want to walk just a little further in Mark's gospel before I call it a day on this post. Immediately after Jesus calls the Twelve for the purposes of being with him and being sent into ministry, Mark relates the story of Jesus' own (i.e. his family) coming to "lay hold of Him, for they said, 'He is out of His mind'" (Mk 3:21). What follows is a brief story about how the scribes attributed Jesus' work to the evil one. They claim that it is by the prince of demons that he drives out the demons. Jesus challenges their statement by saying that a house divided against itself does not stand, but comes to an end. He warns them of the blasphemies of which they speak in giving Satan credit for the work of God. At this point, the narrative moves back to his family. Jesus is told that his family is outside waiting on him, but his reply is shocking. "'Who is my mother, or my brothers?' And He looked around in a circle at those who sat about Him, and said, 'Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God is My brother and My sister and mother'" (Mk 3:33-35). Jesus redefines the nature of our relationships. Being a disciple of Christ necessitates that Christ is the center of our entire being, even to the point that our traditional relationships become redefined in the light of our relationship to Jesus.
There is so much more going on in Mark's gospel. I hope that the above work has helped to set forth a framework in which to read it in a new light. The call to discipleship is a call of restoration and redemption. It is a call to leave behind everything for the sake of the gospel. It is a call that causes us to not be slaves to the system of the religious establishment, but to be the slaves of Christ. Our primary relationship becomes our relationship with Jesus, and all other relationship have to be seen in the light of Christ Jesus.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
In Mark 1:16-20, Jesus is walking along the Sea of Galilee and sees Simon (Peter) and Andrew casting their nets into the sea. He calls out to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Mk 1:17). He then goes a little further calls to James and John, the sons of Zebedee. They too drop what they are doing and begin to follow Jesus.
This is the individual call to follow Jesus. Jesus comes to each of us with the call to follow him. Peter, Andrew, James and John immediately stop what they are doing and begin to follow Jesus. Peter and Andrew are in the midst of casting their nets when Jesus calls, and Mark tells us that they left their nets. I'm making a bit of an assumption here, but there is no indication that they brought in their nets before they left to follow Jesus. Mark writes, "They immediately left their nets and followed him" (Mk 1:18). He then goes to James and John, who stop mending their nets and leave their father in the boat with the hired help. The call to discipleship takes precedence over all areas of our lives, even our jobs and our family.
As we continue in Mark's gospel, the writer relates a series of healings. Demons are cast out and silenced, Peter's mother-in-law is healed, the multitudes are also healed. Jesus did not do this without the assistance of the Father either. Right in the middle of this section, Mark writes, "Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daylight, He went out and departed to a solitary place; and there He prayed" (Mk 1:35). Jesus' power to heal comes from his connection with the Father. Mark then relates the healing of a leper (Mk 1:40-45) and a paralytic (Mk 2:1-12) before something familiar happens.
In Mk 1:16, Jesus is said to be walking by the Sea of Galilee. It is then that he calls Peter and Andrew, and a bit later James and John. In Mk 2:13, Jesus is also said to be walking beside the sea. He comes upon Levi the son of Alphaeus, who was a tax collector. Levi (also known as Matthew, see Mt 9:9), at Jesus' call, leaves his tax office and begins to follow Jesus. Mark seems to bookend the stories of healing and casting out demons with the calling of specific disciples. There is something about Jesus' ability to heal and restore life that is related to discipleship. If Jesus can heal the physical ailments of this life, how much more can he heal the spiritual? The basic condition of humanity is a fallen nature that is in need of restoration and redemption, and through Jesus Christ, this redemption and restoration is possible.
In Mark 2:18, Jesus begins by relating the Parable of Cloth and Wineskins. Jesus' words strike at the very heart of the established religion of his day. "No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; or else the new piece pulls away from the old, and the tear is made worse. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine bursts the wineskins, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But new wine must be put in new wineskins" (Mk 2:21-22 NKJV). At first glance, this parable appears to be out of place; however, if one were to look at the wider context of the parable, something else comes to the surface. What follows are three key stories concerning Jesus and his relations with the religious establishment of the day.
In the first one (Mk 2:23-28), the disciples are plucking the heads of the grain in the fields so that they may have something to eat. The Pharisees question whether or not this is breaking the Sabbath. The idea is that the disciples are explicitly doing work on a day in which work was forbidden. Jesus addresses the Pharisees by retelling the story of David found in 1 Samuel 21. Jesus concludes by saying that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. In other words, the Sabbath was intended to be a time of rest, not of strict adherence to the Pharisaic laws of the day, which were more of a burden than a blessing.
The second story has to do with Jesus healing a man who had a "withered" hand. The word used is exeranthe, which points to the idea of something being dried up. It is often used in the Old Testament in reference to rivers, streams, or even the earth (in the case of the flood) being dried up. In Israel, as everywhere else, water is an important commodity; one that symbolizes life. To say that something was "dried up" would imply that there is no life in it. In other words, this man's hand had no life in it. It was useless. The Pharisees watched Jesus to see what he would do in this instance, and he asks them a question, "Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?" (Mk 3:4). They did not respond because they wanted to accuse Jesus of working on the Sabbath. Jesus was grieved by the hardness that they displayed in their reaction to his question, and he healed the man. The Pharisees took the letter of the Law over the heart of the Law. Jesus points out that healing, the restorative physical action, is more important and gets to the heart of the Law.
The third story comes out of the Pharisees' response to Jesus' actions. In Mk 3:6, it is said that they began to plot with the Herodians (a secular political party) on how to kill Jesus. Jesus goes out from that meeting and continues his ministry of healing throughout the region. All the while, he is silencing the evil spirits who know Jesus' true identity as the Son of God.
It is at this point that the reader sees the second call of Jesus. In Mk 3:13-19, Jesus brings around him the Twelve, whose names are listed in vv. 16-19. The purpose for bringing them near is stated in the text, "that they might be with Him and that He might send them out to preach, and to have power to heal sicknesses and to cast out demons" (Mk 3:14-15). Before getting to this two-part calling, I would like to take a minute or two to delve into the Greek text.
Mark 3:13 states, "And He went up on the mountain and called to Him those He Himself wanted. And they came to Him." There is a lot lost in the nuances of the Greek once it is translated into English. In the Greek language there are several tenses. In English, we only really have past, present and future. Greek has six tenses: aorist, imperfect, pluperfect, present, perfect and future. In the Greek, time is not the only thing indicated in the tense. Greek also gives the sense of the action that is in view. For example, the aorist tense looks at an event as a whole. Imagine a parade. The aorist tense would look at the parade from start to finish and see it as though it were a snapshot - example, "I saw a parade." The present tense would see the parade as it is passing by - example, "I am seeing a parade." The imperfect tense would describe the parade as it passed by - example, "I was seeing a parade". The perfect, pluperfect and future tenses are not really relevant to the upcoming information, and so I will not address them at this time. So, why is the information on the present, imperfect and aorist tenses important?
There are four verbs listed in the Mark 3:13 passage. Let me translate it from the Greek and italicize the verbs that are used, as they appear in the Greek text. "And he is going up into the mountain and he is calling to himself those who he was wanting, and they came to him." Notice the verb tenses. The first two verbs are present tense verbs. Scholars have pointed out that there is such a usage of the present tense known as the historical present. Often an author will use the present tense in describing a past event in order to draw the audience in. The next verb is in the imperfect tense. It describes the motion of the verb in past time. Jesus "was wanting" these particular people. The final verb is in the aorist tense - "They came." What I find most facinating about all of this grammatical stuff is that Mark could have easily used the imperfect tense for the first two verbs (in fact, this is what one would expect to see here), but he intentionally chose to use the present tense. Jesus did not just call the Twelve, but he continues to call each of us even in this present time. Jesus' calling of the disciples may begin with the Twelve, but in no way does it end with them. And now the question is, "What does this call look like?"
I mentioned above that there is a two-part calling in vv.14-15. The first part of Jesus' call to his disciples is that they may "be with him." Discipleship requires that we spend time with Jesus. The first call of the disciple is to be with Jesus - that the students be in the presence of the Master. The second part of the calling has to do with the ministry that grows out of the relationship they have with Christ. It is because they are with Jesus that they can preach, heal the sick and cast out the demons. Just like Jesus in Mk 1:35, we have to be aware of the source of our power and stay connected to that source in order for the ministry that we undertake be faithful to the calling of Jesus Christ.
I want to walk just a little further in Mark's gospel before I call it a day on this post. Immediately after Jesus calls the Twelve for the purposes of being with him and being sent into ministry, Mark relates the story of Jesus' own (i.e. his family) coming to "lay hold of Him, for they said, 'He is out of His mind'" (Mk 3:21). What follows is a brief story about how the scribes attributed Jesus' work to the evil one. They claim that it is by the prince of demons that he drives out the demons. Jesus challenges their statement by saying that a house divided against itself does not stand, but comes to an end. He warns them of the blasphemies of which they speak in giving Satan credit for the work of God. At this point, the narrative moves back to his family. Jesus is told that his family is outside waiting on him, but his reply is shocking. "'Who is my mother, or my brothers?' And He looked around in a circle at those who sat about Him, and said, 'Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God is My brother and My sister and mother'" (Mk 3:33-35). Jesus redefines the nature of our relationships. Being a disciple of Christ necessitates that Christ is the center of our entire being, even to the point that our traditional relationships become redefined in the light of our relationship to Jesus.
There is so much more going on in Mark's gospel. I hope that the above work has helped to set forth a framework in which to read it in a new light. The call to discipleship is a call of restoration and redemption. It is a call to leave behind everything for the sake of the gospel. It is a call that causes us to not be slaves to the system of the religious establishment, but to be the slaves of Christ. Our primary relationship becomes our relationship with Jesus, and all other relationship have to be seen in the light of Christ Jesus.
Just some musings from a traveling pilgrim.
The Radical Effects of Sin: Observations from Genesis 3
In beginning to examine the radical effects of sin on humanity, the best place to start is the point at which sin entered into the world, known as the Fall. This is recounted in Genesis 3, but it is important to get the context before diving into the Fall. Genesis 3 comes right after the story of creation. In Genesis 2:15-17, God takes the man and puts him in the Garden of Eden “to till it and keep it.” God gave the man a threefold command. It was both positive, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden,” and negative, “but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat,” and a consequential, “for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.” Shortly after this, God created the woman and the chapter ends with the statement, “And the man and his wife were both naked, and were not ashamed” (Gen 2:25). This is a significant statement to keep in mind for later in Genesis 3, to which we now turn.
The serpent opens the chapter by asking a question of the woman, and we can see something about how the enemy works. The serpent is “crafty.” He knows what he is doing. He takes God’s words and twists them around. His question is, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden?’” (Gen 3:1). Clearly, the serpent is trying to mislead the woman in the conversation from the very beginning. God said nothing of the sort, and this should have been a non-issue from the start, but the woman’s response reveals something unsettling. She says, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die” (Gen 3:2-3). Notice the part in italics. God says nothing of the sort. There has been a hedge placed around the commands of God. She adds to the commands of God. Humanity has a tendency to build protective barriers. Protective barriers are not necessarily a bad thing, but these barriers can also lead to a negative form of legalism, which causes a misconstrued notion of the Word of God. It is the type of legalism that is seen in the Pharisees of the New Testament. The type that is more concerned with the outer appearances than with the inward goal of religion, which, according to John Wesley, is holiness.
There is a second issue that can be observed on this point. The way the serpent twists God’s words. He is intentionally trying to lead the woman astray here by making God out to be overly prohibitive. We see in the temptation of Jesus that Satan knows the Word, but we also see that Satan misuses the Word (cf. esp. Lk 4:9ff). This is no accident either. It’s not as if the serpent has his heart in the right place and is accidentally leading people astray. No, it is an intentional act on his part. This is how the enemy of our souls works. He tests us, hoping to trap us in our own words, which he does very well here with the woman. What he said makes sense, and there is a kernel of truth to it as well. He says, “You will not die; for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4-5). Well, in one sense, he was right. Death did not come for the woman – at least not immediately – at least not physical death.
Ultimately death did come to the human race, as well as to all of creation, it happened spiritually right here, and down the road, it happens physically. There is no indication to this point in the biblical text that death was inevitable. How could it be? If creation was “very good” as God declared it, how could death be a part of it? Death is only mentioned in Genesis 2:17 as a consequence of eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Does the man have any concept of what death is? How could he? He had never seen death before? We all know and accept that people die – it’s been happening for millennia, but for the first man death was nothing more than a concept. Sometimes it seems as though it is that way for us now. We still do not understand death. We try to find all sorts of ways to keep people alive (not that there is anything wrong with saving life). We keep people from death as long as we can, but that does not mean we have any clue as to what death is in the first place. We can see here that death is a result of sin, but we are also looking at it from the far side of the resurrection.
The spiritual death that happens in the Fall is the separation of a defiled, unholy creation from a holy God – that is spiritual death. Physical death is merely a side consequence of spiritual death, of this separation from God. However, in Jesus, this separation is bridged. Jesus came to seek and save the lost. Who are the lost, but those who are separated from God? Is there any way that one can be lost when one is with God? No, separation from God is the very definition of “lost-ness,” and it is this lost-ness that occurs in Genesis 3.
Ultimately the woman was taken in by what the serpent had to say. She “saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise” (Gen 3:6). She fell for it, but what was the original sin? Was it vanity? Well, in some sense, it was, but I don’t think that fully explains the whole situation. The serpent says that the woman would “be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:5). This may have contributed to her decision. She felt like there was something more out there for her, but maybe the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. John Wesley writes that the original sin was actually unbelief, faithlessness. In his Notes on the Old Testament, Wesley writes that the eating of the fruit implied unbelief of God’s word. At the heart of what is happening in the Fall is unbelief in the Word of God, and trust in the word of the enemy. Yes, I believe that there may have been some vanity (or pride) involved in the original sin, but this comes as a result in not trusting in God’s word.
If we stop to think about it again, the serpent was not totally lying. There was a kernel of truth in what he said – the woman’s eyes were opened. The woman came to know the difference between good and evil because she committed the first transgression. She knew the difference between good and evil, and here is where the serpent’s lie comes to the fore. There was no evil at the creation, remember – it was declared “very good” by God. The only evil that there was in all of the heavens and the earth was right in front of her, represented by the serpent, and she didn’t know it. When it comes to metaphysical concepts, one cannot see that which one does not know. The woman cannot know the difference between two things if she does not know what one is in the first place.
For centuries, women have been blamed for the inception of sin into the world. Now, doesn’t this all seem a little unfair? In some areas and cultures, women are seen as inferior to men, with some deferring to the woman’s “gullibility” as proof. However, what is said in Gen 3:6? “She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate.” What does this mean – “her husband with her”? At this point you’ll see all sorts of interpretive gymnastics that try to point out how the woman deceived the man into eating the fruit. Wesley’s Notes point out the possibility that the man was certainly not with her when she was deceived, lest he would have prevented her from being so deceived. However, I’ll have to respectfully disagree with Mr. Wesley on this point. The Septuagint, or the LXX (the Greek version of the Old Testament, so called because it is said that seventy different translators worked from Hebrew of the Old Testament to the exact same translation into Greek), uses the Greek word meta,, which is translated as the preposition “with.” This does not simply mean that they were related in some way. I believe this point to a physical “with-ness” between the man and the woman. In other words, I believe that the man was with the woman when she was speaking with the serpent here in Genesis 3. The text is pretty clear that the two were together at the time of the deception. There is also no indication in the text that they ate at different times either. Wouldn’t it have been clear if the woman ate of the fruit, had her eyes opened to sin, and then gave the fruit to the man? I believe it would have been explicitly stated in the text had this been the case. The Greek translation seems to point to the man and the woman eating the fruit simultaneously.
After eating the fruit, the man and the woman both had their eyes opened. They knew what sin was because they had committed it. At this point, we see a dramatic switch from what was said in 2:25 – “they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.” Instead of them not being ashamed of their nakedness, they covered themselves with fig leaves. Now I’ve done a little digging on exactly what a fig leaf is like, and I must say, this was probably not the best of choices for them to make. The leaves are large (up to 1 ft in length) and hairy (rough on the upper surface, and soft on the underside). The sap of the fig tree is also irritating to human skin. I can’t imagine that the fig leaf was all that comfortable of a covering. It is a striking contrast to what was said earlier in reference to the innocence of the man and the woman. A second major contrast is that the man and the woman hid when they heard the voice of the Lord. Why would they hide? Had they ever hid from the Lord before? This does not appear to be the case. Their shame and guilt led them to this point.
We finally come to the end of this drama. God confronts the man about what has happened, and instead of owning up to his disobedience, the man passes the buck. He says to God, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I ate” (Gen 3:12). Effectually, the man is blaming the Creator. It would be funny if it weren’t so sad, but isn’t this still going on today? Don’t we live in a world where people fail time and time again to take responsibility for their actions? How often can we see somebody on Dr. Phil blaming every problem that they’ve ever had on their lousy upbringing? It’s a part of our history; it a part of our story. It begins after the beginning; at the point of the Fall, when man blames God for all his troubles. The woman is not any nobler in her response, blaming the serpent for his part in the deception.
Creation begins out of a simple phrase – “let there be light.” It climaxes in another – “it was very good.” Humanity is created to be the steward of this creation. Life in the very presence of God was available. However, as we all know, there was more to the story. Sin also begins out of a simple phrase – “did God really say….” And it climaxes in another, “the woman whom You gave to be with me….” Life of sorts is still available, but the presence of God is not. What was once created in the image of the Creator had fallen from its state of perfection. But perhaps what is most important in all of this, and what must not be overlooked, is the promise that is given. There is the promise that the seed of the woman will be bruised by the serpent, but also that this very seed will crush its head. This is the promise and the hope that is available through the power of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yes, the serpent bruised his heel, but the victory ultimately belongs to Christ, and it is in him that we also have victory.
The serpent opens the chapter by asking a question of the woman, and we can see something about how the enemy works. The serpent is “crafty.” He knows what he is doing. He takes God’s words and twists them around. His question is, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden?’” (Gen 3:1). Clearly, the serpent is trying to mislead the woman in the conversation from the very beginning. God said nothing of the sort, and this should have been a non-issue from the start, but the woman’s response reveals something unsettling. She says, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die” (Gen 3:2-3). Notice the part in italics. God says nothing of the sort. There has been a hedge placed around the commands of God. She adds to the commands of God. Humanity has a tendency to build protective barriers. Protective barriers are not necessarily a bad thing, but these barriers can also lead to a negative form of legalism, which causes a misconstrued notion of the Word of God. It is the type of legalism that is seen in the Pharisees of the New Testament. The type that is more concerned with the outer appearances than with the inward goal of religion, which, according to John Wesley, is holiness.
There is a second issue that can be observed on this point. The way the serpent twists God’s words. He is intentionally trying to lead the woman astray here by making God out to be overly prohibitive. We see in the temptation of Jesus that Satan knows the Word, but we also see that Satan misuses the Word (cf. esp. Lk 4:9ff). This is no accident either. It’s not as if the serpent has his heart in the right place and is accidentally leading people astray. No, it is an intentional act on his part. This is how the enemy of our souls works. He tests us, hoping to trap us in our own words, which he does very well here with the woman. What he said makes sense, and there is a kernel of truth to it as well. He says, “You will not die; for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4-5). Well, in one sense, he was right. Death did not come for the woman – at least not immediately – at least not physical death.
Ultimately death did come to the human race, as well as to all of creation, it happened spiritually right here, and down the road, it happens physically. There is no indication to this point in the biblical text that death was inevitable. How could it be? If creation was “very good” as God declared it, how could death be a part of it? Death is only mentioned in Genesis 2:17 as a consequence of eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Does the man have any concept of what death is? How could he? He had never seen death before? We all know and accept that people die – it’s been happening for millennia, but for the first man death was nothing more than a concept. Sometimes it seems as though it is that way for us now. We still do not understand death. We try to find all sorts of ways to keep people alive (not that there is anything wrong with saving life). We keep people from death as long as we can, but that does not mean we have any clue as to what death is in the first place. We can see here that death is a result of sin, but we are also looking at it from the far side of the resurrection.
The spiritual death that happens in the Fall is the separation of a defiled, unholy creation from a holy God – that is spiritual death. Physical death is merely a side consequence of spiritual death, of this separation from God. However, in Jesus, this separation is bridged. Jesus came to seek and save the lost. Who are the lost, but those who are separated from God? Is there any way that one can be lost when one is with God? No, separation from God is the very definition of “lost-ness,” and it is this lost-ness that occurs in Genesis 3.
Ultimately the woman was taken in by what the serpent had to say. She “saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise” (Gen 3:6). She fell for it, but what was the original sin? Was it vanity? Well, in some sense, it was, but I don’t think that fully explains the whole situation. The serpent says that the woman would “be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:5). This may have contributed to her decision. She felt like there was something more out there for her, but maybe the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. John Wesley writes that the original sin was actually unbelief, faithlessness. In his Notes on the Old Testament, Wesley writes that the eating of the fruit implied unbelief of God’s word. At the heart of what is happening in the Fall is unbelief in the Word of God, and trust in the word of the enemy. Yes, I believe that there may have been some vanity (or pride) involved in the original sin, but this comes as a result in not trusting in God’s word.
If we stop to think about it again, the serpent was not totally lying. There was a kernel of truth in what he said – the woman’s eyes were opened. The woman came to know the difference between good and evil because she committed the first transgression. She knew the difference between good and evil, and here is where the serpent’s lie comes to the fore. There was no evil at the creation, remember – it was declared “very good” by God. The only evil that there was in all of the heavens and the earth was right in front of her, represented by the serpent, and she didn’t know it. When it comes to metaphysical concepts, one cannot see that which one does not know. The woman cannot know the difference between two things if she does not know what one is in the first place.
For centuries, women have been blamed for the inception of sin into the world. Now, doesn’t this all seem a little unfair? In some areas and cultures, women are seen as inferior to men, with some deferring to the woman’s “gullibility” as proof. However, what is said in Gen 3:6? “She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate.” What does this mean – “her husband with her”? At this point you’ll see all sorts of interpretive gymnastics that try to point out how the woman deceived the man into eating the fruit. Wesley’s Notes point out the possibility that the man was certainly not with her when she was deceived, lest he would have prevented her from being so deceived. However, I’ll have to respectfully disagree with Mr. Wesley on this point. The Septuagint, or the LXX (the Greek version of the Old Testament, so called because it is said that seventy different translators worked from Hebrew of the Old Testament to the exact same translation into Greek), uses the Greek word meta,, which is translated as the preposition “with.” This does not simply mean that they were related in some way. I believe this point to a physical “with-ness” between the man and the woman. In other words, I believe that the man was with the woman when she was speaking with the serpent here in Genesis 3. The text is pretty clear that the two were together at the time of the deception. There is also no indication in the text that they ate at different times either. Wouldn’t it have been clear if the woman ate of the fruit, had her eyes opened to sin, and then gave the fruit to the man? I believe it would have been explicitly stated in the text had this been the case. The Greek translation seems to point to the man and the woman eating the fruit simultaneously.
After eating the fruit, the man and the woman both had their eyes opened. They knew what sin was because they had committed it. At this point, we see a dramatic switch from what was said in 2:25 – “they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.” Instead of them not being ashamed of their nakedness, they covered themselves with fig leaves. Now I’ve done a little digging on exactly what a fig leaf is like, and I must say, this was probably not the best of choices for them to make. The leaves are large (up to 1 ft in length) and hairy (rough on the upper surface, and soft on the underside). The sap of the fig tree is also irritating to human skin. I can’t imagine that the fig leaf was all that comfortable of a covering. It is a striking contrast to what was said earlier in reference to the innocence of the man and the woman. A second major contrast is that the man and the woman hid when they heard the voice of the Lord. Why would they hide? Had they ever hid from the Lord before? This does not appear to be the case. Their shame and guilt led them to this point.
We finally come to the end of this drama. God confronts the man about what has happened, and instead of owning up to his disobedience, the man passes the buck. He says to God, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I ate” (Gen 3:12). Effectually, the man is blaming the Creator. It would be funny if it weren’t so sad, but isn’t this still going on today? Don’t we live in a world where people fail time and time again to take responsibility for their actions? How often can we see somebody on Dr. Phil blaming every problem that they’ve ever had on their lousy upbringing? It’s a part of our history; it a part of our story. It begins after the beginning; at the point of the Fall, when man blames God for all his troubles. The woman is not any nobler in her response, blaming the serpent for his part in the deception.
Creation begins out of a simple phrase – “let there be light.” It climaxes in another – “it was very good.” Humanity is created to be the steward of this creation. Life in the very presence of God was available. However, as we all know, there was more to the story. Sin also begins out of a simple phrase – “did God really say….” And it climaxes in another, “the woman whom You gave to be with me….” Life of sorts is still available, but the presence of God is not. What was once created in the image of the Creator had fallen from its state of perfection. But perhaps what is most important in all of this, and what must not be overlooked, is the promise that is given. There is the promise that the seed of the woman will be bruised by the serpent, but also that this very seed will crush its head. This is the promise and the hope that is available through the power of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yes, the serpent bruised his heel, but the victory ultimately belongs to Christ, and it is in him that we also have victory.