Top 12 of CiHD: #12

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (the first week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

As we begin our look at the Top 12 Blog Posts of Covered in His Dust, we’re going to begin as any good countdown does — at the bottom! Let’s start with my twelfth-most-viewed blog post. It happens to be “The Redemption Cycle,” a post I published on December 26, 2013. It discusses the big ideas undergirding the book of Judges, and I contest the idea that the cycle represented there should be described as a “sin cycle.” You can read the post here.

In this series, as we look at each post, I want to ask three questions: why, what, and what else? Why do I think this post got so many views; why were others drawn to this post? What do I hope people found when they got here; what do I hope they heard? Finally, what else have I learned about this; what else would I say about these ideas?

WHY THIS POST?

To be honest, one of the things you are going to get every time we do this is a very cynical and objective look at why people hit this post. The truth of the matter is that most of these page views are coming from web searches from people’s favorite search engines. Chances are good that many of these views came from people who were doing an image search for “cycle in Judges” and happened to click on the image that is linked to my blog.

In a similar fashion, I think many page views came from a Google search that had to do with “cycle” and “book of Judges.” As people were looking more into this idea, they were looking for additional material. Particularly on Google searches, my Google-based blog host is one of the first hits, and away we go. So let’s work with this idea: the people who ran across my blog were studying the book of Judges and the idea that there is an ongoing cycle within the literature.

WHAT DO I HOPE THEY FOUND?

I hope they found an idea that challenged the assumptions they were being handed from other sources. By saying this, I’m not suggesting that I hope they heard the right answer in a debate against what they had been taught. I simply mean to say that I hope they encountered an even bigger idea and that it made them think critically about the implications of the theology that serves as the foundation to our biblical interpretation — let alone our doctrine.

When I was handed a worldview that focused on the sinfulness and depravity of man, I found myself stuck in a theology that wasn’t compelling and didn’t inspire me to take up the mission and partner with God. Instead, I found a lot of despair and hopelessness for humanity. The idea that God simply “puts up with us” and with a roll of His eyes He forgives us — yet again — was portrayed quite clearly.

There are many things I can applaud in what I was taught. The fact that Bible teachers were able to show me a literary tool being employed in Judges was fantastic. At that stage of my learning, I hadn’t been exposed to many literary tools; but being handed such a clear and noticeable example launched the beginning of a very critical journey in learning the skills necessary to examine the Text. It was all of the doctrinal assumption that I hope people found critiqued when they got here.

WHAT ELSE WOULD I SAY?

This post really expresses things quite thoroughly and I can’t think of much I would add. I would say I have learned how much scholarship (progressive textual critics, in large part) sees the book of Judges as a parallel record of history to the book of Joshua. What they mean when they say such things is that a redactor later pulled these two stories together and made them read sequentially, but they probably preexisted as different takes on the same period of history. On the one hand, you have the book of Joshua, which tells the story of obedience (for the most part) and God’s help in absolute conquest. However, another historical perspective tells the story of disobedience and God’s incredible patience. These serve as two sides of the historical narrative. For some of us, this may be a bridge too far, but I have been learning much about these theories and find them informative in my ability to think critically about the Text and wrestle with authorial intent.

I would also be remiss to exit this post without recommending Make Your Mark, a book written by a fellow teacher and friend of mine, Brad Gray. While the book focuses on the story of Samson, I find its contents to be helpful as I wrestle with the implications of the stories found in the book of Judges.

MY BLOG IN 2018: Week Four

And finally we wrap up my introduction to what is coming, starting in January. It’s only a few weeks away.

We’ve chatted about how we’ll be using the first week to review the top blog posts from the last five years. We’ve talked about how the second week will be a time to invite you into my life as a campus minister and as the President of Impact Campus Ministries. Last month, I introduced you to a little bit of the history behind ICM and our mission, vision, and values; we talked about the third week being dedicated to casting some vision around our common language and culture at ICM. So what is going to be the topic in week four?

Stories.

We all love good stories. Stories enable us to see a great idea in action. There is something unbelievably powerful about taking a concept and wrapping it in the flesh of human experience. And so, whatever idea we talked about that month (from the previous week), I’ll be finding a story to write about or share with you so we can see the idea with feet on it.

When we take time to talk about the process of discipleship, I want to find a story about someone who engaged in that process. What did discipleship look like to them? How did our definition find life in their experience? What pieces of advice would they give?

When we talk about our commitment to pursue (intimacy with God), what example can I find of someone who created space to pursue God passionately? What fruit was borne of that pursuit? What can we learn from those stories of success (and even failure)?

When we pull apart our value of excellence, who embodies our idea of excellence? How do they (and we) balance the tension between letting God bear the fruit and putting in an effort of excellence at all times? What does it mean to do our part and trust God to do His?

The fact of the matter is that we are surrounded by these stories every day. As campus ministers, we ought to be sharing the stories with others. The truest testimony to whether or not something works is just that: testimony. An idea is just an idea unless it becomes real in the life of another human being. A product is just a product unless it really proves itself useful to others. Nobody cares about whether a culture or belief system is right or wrong unless it becomes compelling to others through the lens of experience.

Stories.

Stories are the most powerful teaching tools we’ll ever have. God believed in the power of story; He worked through Elisha to tell Naaman to “go in peace,” armed only with his experience to change the world of Aram. Jesus believed in the power of story; he turned down an eager applicant for discipleship, telling him instead to go home and tell others his story. These are instances where people lacked any training in theology or management. They were not equipped with what the world might have called “conventional wisdom.” But they had their story.

Stories have changed the course of history more than once. Maybe we should put more stock in stories; maybe we should put more stock in our own stories.

Now, storytelling is something most of us have to get better at. It’s definitely something ICM is trying to get better at. Please don’t let me overhype what’s coming. We’re not expert storytellers, but we’d like to be better storytellers, so we’re going to try. Maybe we’ll struggle through and maybe it will be incredible. There’s only one way to find out.

So for week four, I’ll invite you to a new series: Pull Up a Chair.

MY BLOG IN 2018: Week One

So after four and a half years of blogging through the Text (and Church History), many people have asked me, “What’s next?” Luckily I work alongside some pretty great people here at Impact Campus Ministries. They helped me take my decent ideas and make them into great ones. If you are a reader of my blog, I want to introduce you to the ideas for what’s coming in 2018.

What about before 2018? A well-deserved break from my online voice. I will be posting once a month to give you a glimpse of what is on the way.

For every month of 2018, I will be working with a four-week rotation. There will be one post each week on the rotating topic that is up, and we’ll see where it goes from there.

For the first week of each month, I want to take a look at the top twelve posts from my blog. I will be linking to those posts and having a fun conversation around why I think that post has resonated more (or been Googled more) than the others. It should be an enjoyable time of looking back, enjoying some of the best conversations we have had since 2013, and keeping those posts alive for future conversations.

Some have asked if I’ll be taking down those old posts. The answer is no way! I worked hard on putting all of that content out there and I did it because I believe those things should be accessible to all people. Like I’ve said in the ‘my sources’ section of this blog, I am certainly not the authority on these issues for anyone needing a quote; but I have given my life to reading the sources that should be quoted and I love to repackage the things I learn and share them with other people. I did this so anybody can access my thoughts on “this book (of the Bible)” or “that passage” whenever they want.

The reason God put me here on this earth is to be a teacher — that is my gift set. Part of my job is to help the college students I work with begin to discern what their own gift sets are. As we spoke of in David and Goliath, we all have a stone to throw and it’s important that people know what it is. Once you do know what it is, you have a reason to get up every morning and be determined about what God has called you to do. It’s that determination that won’t let anything get in the way of that calling; and living according to that God-given design is where you find your identity and fulfillment.

Simply put, teaching is the thing I could do for all eternity — it's my stone to throw. I have been unbelievably blessed to have found places where I get to do that every day. Whether it’s having the opportunity to lead others through history in Israel and Turkey, preaching on Sunday mornings with the community of faith I belong to, or creating my podcast with Brent Billings and the work of BEMA Discipleship — I love, love, love to do what I do!

And as a teacher, over the years, I have created a body of work I am able to share in all those forms. Years ago, I sought to put a large part of that body of work online on my blog. Now it is all there in a form that can be (somewhat) easily navigated. My blog started in February 2013 and you can find the first post of that series here. You can then follow those posts chronologically or quickly navigate the series by using the archives in the right side bar to find the post you’re looking for.

I found that when I wrapped up the series this summer, it had been more of an emotional journey than I realized. This wasn’t in a taxing way, but I had poured so much of myself — my heart, my mind, and my body — into this project. I am lucky that I haven’t had to answer for all sorts of criticism and attacks about the things I’ve written (maybe that means I didn’t push hard enough?) and I love that I get to share it with all of you.

So I look forward to 2018. In the first week of every month, I will be counting down the twelve most-viewed blog posts on Covered in His Dust.

CHURCH HISTORY: AD 1000 thru AD 1300

NB: For readers who missed it, I suggest going back to review my setup to this section on church history to know about my disclaimers. For the graphics used in this post, the timelines are not to scale, and the dates represented are not intended to be exact. They are meant to be visual aids for understanding the larger conversation.

We left our last discussion with the world of Christendom having been rocked to its core. With the departure of the Eastern Church, the danger is that it would raise a whole new sense of papal rejection. If folks can just tell the pope no, then what does that mean?

Well, as the saying goes, nothing brings a people together like a common enemy.

To be fair, I’m not going to wade into the spicy conversation surrounding the Crusades and present myself as a historian or expert. I know talking about this period of history can be incredibly charged emotionally — as it should be. I know some historical reconstructionists have attempted to put a “positive spin” on the Crusades and what the intentions were behind them. I will be attempting no such explanation. For me, this chapter of Christian history is dark and marked with all sorts of problems, which most of us have simply kept out of sight and out of mind.

I remember the chapter in Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller where he spoke about his experience at the reverse confessional. He talked about how they set up a confessional booth at Reed College and — instead of receiving confessions from others — they offered confessions on behalf of their faith, both current and historic. I have not stopped hearing the kickback from readers or thinkers who say, “But why would I/they apologize for something that happened centuries ago?” This question shows our blatant disconnection from our faith and where it comes from. This disconnection stops us from being able to think critically about how we could ever get to that place. And a dark history disowned by the descendants of it will be bound to repeat itself. Some would say we are on the verge of such an era right now.

But I won’t try to present myself as an expert — only as a learner, a student of history, and a fellow thinker.

It’s my belief that in our desperate need to unify Christendom, we seized an opportunity that arose at just the right time. Shortly after the East-West Schism, the Islamic movement was making its way to capture Palestine. While there is no way I am going to give you a history of the Islamic faith here, it would be helpful to know that as Mohammed was doing the work of canonizing his teaching and creation of the Qur’an was underway, there were three dominant worldviews at play within Islam. There was what we might have called a progressive movement — which wanted to live peaceably with everyone. There was a moderate movement that saw itself as the correct faith, and others as largely apostate, but did not seek to convert them by force. There was also a radical branch of the faith bent on violent overthrow of the pagan idolaters.

If this sounds familiar, that’s because it is. We studied Judaism of the second temple period and its different sects. We have seen the same movements grow and disappear within Christian history, as well. (I cannot move on without recommending Battle for God by Karen Armstrong, a wonderful look at the history of the three faiths and the rise of radical fundamentalism in each.)

I find this helpful because most people choose which groups they want to represent their own faith story. While Christians would (typically) never define themselves by the fringe, radical edges of fundamentalism, we consistently do the opposite to the “other” in the conversation. I would say the movement of Islam toward capturing Palestine did not represent the Islamic faith as a whole (not even close). It did have a lot of traction at this point in history, though, and it did provide a perfect opportunity for the Church in the west to find a common enemy and use it as a scapegoat to bring unity to a struggling kingdom.

This is my unauthoritative (and probably oversimplified) opinion on this point of history. I am no expert in the Crusades, so I will not try to explain my way through it. Let’s just say that these few centuries were an absolute mess, and the mess seemed to galvanize an unfortunate unity in Christendom.

But before we move on to the next chapter of history, it would be worth pointing out that not everyone is out fighting in the Crusades.

They never are. We let the poor, the uneducated, and the commoners do that work for us.

Simultaneously, as the Crusades are being fought, we witness the rise of “scholasticism” and an ever-widening gap between those who have and those who have not. This is a gap we are well acquainted with today; we often talk about the gap between the wealthiest 1% and the rest of the world. In the Middle Ages, this gap was driven more by education and academic privilege. While the middle and bottom classes were fighting in the Crusades, the cream of the crop was being taught and educated at a level we simply hadn’t seen before. With the rise of science and the accomplishments it brought, a university system that we still understand and rely on today began to take shape. Apprentices were taught not only how to read and write (which was an incredible advantage, by the way!), but they were also instructed in the blossoming fields of mathematics, science, theology, and the arts — most of which was driven by the Greek philosophers of the Hellenistic era.

One of the most revered names in Church history is often that of Thomas Aquinas. Aquinas, without a doubt, changed the face of Christian history by bringing into a logical order the many fields of education. Aquinas showed how the world of mathematics and science could blend with the world of philosophy and theology, and the western world would never be the same. The way we understand our education system today is largely shaped by the perspective brought to us through the work of Thomas Aquinas. Many would call him the father of logic and reason.

I’ll resist my desire to be critical until we conclude our study of history, but I’m hoping my western-minded readers will notice that somewhere around a millennia before this, we lost some things that were absolutely crucial to the health of the Church. While I realize we are all still enamored with the pillars of Hellenism today, I hope we learned enough to critically examine just how lost we are 1,000 years after the Judaic movement of Jesus. But I digress.

Or do I? We shall see.

REVELATION: Bittersweet Prophecy

Our previous discussion surrounding Revelation 8 and 9 had a definite focus on Greco-Roman culture and its impact on the interpretation of Revelation. That means we ought to look at Revelation 10 with eyes turned toward the ancient Hebrew Text. I don’t do this to be cute or simply for the sake of redundancy; I do this because it is such a radically different way of reading Revelation than most of us were handed. It takes a redundant training to help us remember the lenses through which we ought to see apocalyptic literature — culture and text, text and culture, and text to context.

So we turn our sights toward Revelation 10 with a desire to keep our eyes peeled for references to the Tanakh, and particularly the apocalyptic books.

Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven. He was robed in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head; his face was like the sun, and his legs were like fiery pillars. He was holding a little scroll, which lay open in his hand. He planted his right foot on the sea and his left foot on the land, and he gave a loud shout like the roar of a lion. When he shouted, the voices of the seven thunders spoke. And when the seven thunders spoke, I was about to write; but I heard a voice from heaven say, “Seal up what the seven thunders have said and do not write it down.”

Then the angel I had seen standing on the sea and on the land raised his right hand to heaven. And he swore by him who lives for ever and ever, who created the heavens and all that is in them, the earth and all that is in it, and the sea and all that is in it, and said, “There will be no more delay! But in the days when the seventh angel is about to sound his trumpet, the mystery of God will be accomplished, just as he announced to his servants the prophets.”

Then the voice that I had heard from heaven spoke to me once more: “Go, take the scroll that lies open in the hand of the angel who is standing on the sea and on the land.”

So I went to the angel and asked him to give me the little scroll. He said to me, “Take it and eat it. It will turn your stomach sour, but ‘in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey.’ ” I took the little scroll from the angel’s hand and ate it. It tasted as sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it, my stomach turned sour. Then I was told, “You must prophesy again about many peoples, nations, languages and kings.”

Now, maybe you are starting to pick up on some of the references yourself. Did you hear anything that you might have heard before? If not, that’s fine, because many of us were not taught the importance and relevance of the “Old Testament.” However, from this point on, we ought to remind ourselves frequently of the need to get into that front two thirds of our Bibles — if we’re ever going to understand our New Testament properly.

But I digress. You may have noticed a few sprinkled references pulled out of the book of Daniel as you read the passage above. You may have also noted Ezekiel. John seems to be pulling language from the beginning of Ezekiel and the end of Daniel — both books being apocalyptic visions. John continues to be set on the goal of encouraging his readers to persevere in hope.

Let’s take a closer look at a couple of these callbacks to Ezekiel. Consider Ezekiel 1:

I saw that from what appeared to be his waist up he looked like glowing metal, as if full of fire, and that from there down he looked like fire; and brilliant light surrounded him. Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around him.

This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD. When I saw it, I fell facedown, and I heard the voice of one speaking.

I would encourage you to read the larger portions surrounding this passage; it continues to add to the brilliant picture John is referring to. Nevertheless, we have an incredibly similar description of the visions here, complete with references to that “rainbow in the clouds.” Such a phrase would have certainly taken the Jewish reader back to the story of Noah. In all of this apocalyptic talk of seals and trumpets and earthquakes and destruction, is this a message of fear? With one reference, John is able to speak to those fears, remind people that God promised always to remember His covenant with the earth, and also remind them that their ancestors had heard this message before — right from the mouth of Ezekiel.

Consider, as well, the more recognizable reference to Ezekiel 3:

And he said to me, “Son of man, eat what is before you, eat this scroll; then go and speak to the people of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and he gave me the scroll to eat.

Then he said to me, “Son of man, eat this scroll I am giving you and fill your stomach with it.” So I ate it, and it tasted as sweet as honey in my mouth.

He then said to me: “Son of man, go now to the people of Israel and speak my words to them. You are not being sent to a people of obscure speech and strange language, but to the people of Israel—not to many peoples of obscure speech and strange language, whose words you cannot understand. Surely if I had sent you to them, they would have listened to you. But the people of Israel are not willing to listen to you because they are not willing to listen to me, for all the Israelites are hardened and obstinate. But I will make you as unyielding and hardened as they are. I will make your forehead like the hardest stone, harder than flint. Do not be afraid of them or terrified by them, though they are a rebellious people.” 

Again, you could keep reading in Ezekiel 3 and continue to see parallels to Revelation; and again, please realize that this message in Revelation has — without a doubt — been heard before. John is not saying brand new things; he is saying things that have been said long before him in ancient texts.

You can almost hear John communicating his intent and call in the Revelation 10 reference (see above). He inserts the Greek word palin into the Text, a word meaning “again” or “anew.”

“You must prophesy again…”

“These people need that encouragement; they need the reminder. This is a hard calling, John. My words are sweet to the taste, but they are hard to hear and digest when you are sitting in the heat of oppression and fear. But go tell them, John. Tell them I’ve never forgotten them. Tell them what they are fighting for and trying to preserve is worth it. Tell them to overcome. Tell them to run the raced marked out for them.”

1 PETER: Living Stones and a Spiritual House

We come to a letter I feel I have so much yet to learn about. The Apostle Peter writes two epistles that end up in our New Testament canon and I always have to step back and catch my breath before I read them. When we read 1 and 2 Peter, we are reading the late writings of the apostolic leader of the early church. If I was honest, I would say the letters of Peter occupy the same place in my mind where they sit in the New Testament — almost in obscurity, toward the back. While I grew up very acquainted with the works and writings of Paul, the books of Peter were used significantly less often. If James is the leader of the Jewish church in Jerusalem, and if John is the Pastor to Asia, then when I read Peter, I am reading the head of this early apostolic movement. But more on that later.

Peter addresses those who are chosen by God to carry our their calling in the region of “Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia”:

Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ,

To God’s elect, exiles scattered throughout the provinces of Pontus, Galatia,Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood:

Grace and peace be yours in abundance.

The region of Cappadocia

On one hand, this is a wide audience that represents the Greco-Asian church spreading readily throughout the Roman empire. But as we’ve discussed before, some of those places aren’t exactly “on the way” through Asia. Places like Galatia are far enough off the beaten path that Rome rarely finds a large presence there. Another place mentioned is even more so — Cappadocia. The region of Cappadocia was where people went in order to escape or hide. Filled with underground cities carved into the soft rock (called “toofa”), this was a place for the persecuted.

If Peter was writing this letter toward the end of his life, it’s entirely probable that the church finds itself under some of the earliest persecutions of the Roman world under emperors like Nero. Thousands of people would flee to a region like Galatia and Cappadocia to escape the cultural torrent swirling around them. While many believers chose to stay, and often die, in the face of persecution (in places like Asia, also mentioned in Peter’s address), others heeded the word of their Rabbi Jesus: “When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.”

This seems to be the cultural context of Peter’s letter. He speaks about hope. He speaks about the need to submit to rulers and masters when the temptation is to fight back and stick up for their own rights. He speaks of suffering — a lot. Consider some of the passages we find in 1 Peter:

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. For,

“Whoever would love life
    and see good days
must keep their tongue from evil
    and their lips from deceitful speech.
They must turn from evil and do good;
    they must seek peace and pursue it.
For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous
    and his ears are attentive to their prayer,
but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”

Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. “Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened.” But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.

Unbelievably powerful words when one considers the likely context of this letter. Peter will also say this:

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name. For it is time for judgment to begin with God’s household; and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God? And,

“If it is hard for the righteous to be saved,
    what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?”

So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.

But if we go back to the beginning of the letter, we might find some of the reasons Peter is able to say these things. Peter said God was taking His chosen people and building them into a “spiritual house” (which is how early Jews would have spoken about the Temple). In a similar fashion to Paul, who said that we (plural) are the temple (singular) of the Holy Spirit, Peter claims we are all living stones, chosen and quarried by God to be built into a spiritual house. Central to Peter’s encouragement of the early believers is a belief that the way they persevere and overcome — together — tells a story and shows the world what their God is like. If this is true, then in the midst of the persecution, there is incredible hope — hope that the world might know more clearly the love and faithfulness of God.

I think there are so many things we can learn from this letter and see paralleled in our own culture. I am not saying we live in a culture of persecution. I find the “culture wars” of our day to be a disgusting spit in the face of people who actually know what persecution looks like. Quite simply, we are not a persecuted people, no matter how we perceive the culture around us (and this is not speaking of individuals, but as a people group; specifically American Christians). Our “trials” cannot lay a finger on the things suffered by those early Christians in places like Cappadocia.

And yet, I do believe their example is one that directly applies to so many of the conversations we wrestle with today. As we continue to move away from a Christian world to a “post-Christian” world (something I personally do not mourn in the least), we must consider what our role to play in the world is. How do we tell the story of our Jesus? Do we fight back? Do we stand up for our rights?

Or do we persist in doing good, no matter what the future brings or how the world reacts? Do we overturn the systems of oppression and injustice and choose forgiveness, love, and compassion at our own expense? This is what leads to my final observation.

It’s interesting to consider the life journey and transformation of Peter. The same Peter who wrote this letter had decades before declared he would take his sword and die for his rabbi. He claimed he would never disown him and never forsake him. Then, after learning the humiliating taste of dishonor, Peter experienced the light of hope and resurrection. He experienced forgiveness. Peter finds a new identity leading the church of Christ in a way that looks much different than the road he wanted to choose in the gospels. This is a Peter who has been changed.

I say all of this because there is hope for a guy like me. There is hope for someone like you, as well. We can still choose the way of grace and peace; we can still choose to be changed by a living hope.

ROMANS: Therefore

Paul has spent the last eleven chapters of Romans arguing for unity in this blended family struggling with the full and free inclusion of the Gentiles. He opened with a theological treatise which explained that all of humanity struggles with the same essential condition. The good news (pun intended) is that this means it is the same faith that justifies us all. If we are all justified, by the same faith and the same gift of grace, then there is no reason for division or exclusion of any group.

Although this is hard to swallow when you are a part of the group on the “inside,” Paul reminds his Jewish readers that God is the potter and He gets to decide what He does with His vessels. So if He decides He wants to shower grace on ‘vessels prepared for destruction,’ He gets to. Paul moved on to explain this is all part of God’s plan and always has been; they’ve made their share of mistakes in the past and learned this lesson before. We Jews need to seize our calling to be a light to the Gentiles and welcome them in the family of faith — the children of Abraham.

But it’s not all fun and games for those Gentiles, either. They have to guard themselves against conceit and arrogance, reminding themselves of the kindness and sternness of God. They must remember that — if not for the grace of God — they are a wild olive tree which doesn’t belong.

In light of this larger argument, Paul turns his attention to the application of this truth. With a great “Therefore” statement to begin Romans 12, Paul calls God’s people to love:

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

In view of this incredible mercy we described in the paragraphs above, the only logical response would be to let ourselves be shaped by this Potter. How would God shape these new vessels for His divine use?

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.

If this is what God is up to in the world, neither one of these groups must think of themselves as better than any other group. (That should remind you of the opening chapters to the letter, right?) Instead, we ought to realize God designed each of us — Jew and Gentile alike — to serve others in the world. We all have something to give. Some of us are teachers and others are administrators. Some of us are prophets, while others encourage. We ought to offer our bodies as living sacrifices and lay ourselves down as an act of service to others around us.

The great Potter is shaping His vessels to be instruments of love.

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary:

“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;    if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

This is what it means to partner with God in His project of redemption. We become His instruments of love and hospitality. We give ourselves as living sacrifices to bless others. Whether these “others” are fellow believers in the Body of Christ or our very enemies matters not. We love and we serve. We bless and we do not curse.

NOTE: While it is a tangential thought and outside the scope of this thematic study of Romans, many people have been confused by the “burning coals on his head” reference. Needless to say, as we’ve learned time and time before, the answer is in the Text. Our initial observation is that this line comes from Proverbs 25. What is often harder to see is that the reference to “burning coals” in the Hebrew is always connected to the presence of God. In Tanakh, whenever you see burning coals, you will also find God nearby. As a quick side note (far too quick), this reference in Romans is not inviting us to “torture our enemies with good deeds,” as if we are taking our vengeance on them in some passive-aggressive form of righteousness. Instead, the author is inviting us to bring the presence of God into their lives by not returning evil for evil. Respond to evil with good — and God will show up.

Might we all be inspired to offer ourselves as living sacrifices. May we offer ourselves to others in love and hospitality. Might we lay our lives down in acts of service, doing the very things God designed us to do for the good of others. May we not shrink back at the sight of evil, but overcome evil with good.

The Mountain

One of the most fascinating things my teacher pointed out was that the Great Commission and the Ascension of Jesus were not the same event. Being the culminating event of more than one gospel, I had always assumed that Jesus had given the Great Commission in the same speech where he ascended. But this is clearly not so in the Text — and I couldn’t believe I had missed it before that moment!

It is plain to see from the opening of the book of Acts that Jesus ascends from the Mount of Olives, just outside of Jerusalem. This is found within the records (both Luke and Acts; as we discussed earlier, Mark is circumspect, at the very least) of the ascension and is not disputed, historicity aside. What I never realized is the record of where the commissioning took place. Look at the record within Matthew 28:

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”

So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

And a little later in the chapter we read this:

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go.

Beside the fact that it seems Jesus has to show up to repeat the angel’s instructions, I find this to be a brilliant rabbinical move. While I’ve never been able to find any hints as to which mountain Jesus is referring to, the disciples seem to understand.Whether it was Mt. Arbel, some other “peak” in the region of the triangle, or some other mountain in the larger region of the Galilee (Lower and Upper “Galil”) is debatable, but Jesus does not instruct the women to tell the disciples about a mountain, nor are we given any indication that they did. 

I like to suggest that they went to Mt. Hermon, where I personally believe the Transfiguration happened (I know — traditional sites put it on Mt. Tabor, I have my reasons in the Text). I think this because of the phrase that appears in both sets of instructions, from Jesus and the angel: “There you will see him.” It seems to me that one of the most crucial moments of Jesus’s ministry was the Transfiguration where Jesus was seen in his glory. Of course, this is neither here nor there (no pun intended).

If I am correct about Mt. Hermon, the reason I think this is so brilliant is because it accomplishes two things:

1) The disciples, who are in Jerusalem (at least at some point after the resurrection), have to travel all the way to the northernmost point of Jesus’s ministry. Located just north of Caesarea Philippi, Mt. Hermon is one of three sources of the Jordan River. It would force the disciples to walk right past (almost literally) every moment of Jesus’s ministry. They would have the opportunity to walk by and unpack all of Jesus’s teachings. Once they get to “the mountain” and receive the commission, they would then have to walk BACK by all of those spots again and continue discussing all of the teachings of Jesus. What a brilliant field trip from the rabbi! But since we mentioned Caesarea Philippi…

2) This was a huge, defining moment in Jesus’s ministry. This is where Jesus said, “I will build my church.” Wouldn’t it make sense, as he wraps up his time on earth before his ascension, that he would utter the Great Commission in the same location where he said he would do his work? And wouldn’t it make sense to utter his command to make disciples of “all nations” at the same place where he marched his disciples to teach them that the Kingdom of God was coming to ALL people — even to the very “Gates of Hell”?

But then there is the command Jesus actually gives to his disciples…

Thoughts on a Week of Passion

I now reach the point of my blog series where we encounter the depth of what’s been called “Passion Week” or “Holy Week” — essentially the last week of Jesus’s life that leads up to his crucifixion.

As a teacher, I don’t like teaching on the crucifixion. And I’m not sure why, exactly.

I don’t like to make one of the most sacred and significant acts in all of human history merely an academic exercise. I don’t think there is anything wrong in dealing with the cross from an academic perspective — not at all. I am thankful for those who have and do; their studies have meant a lot to me and I cherish their work.

Maybe it’s because I have spent my whole life in the church, surrounded by the discussion that finds its center at the cross of Christ. Maybe it’s that I still find myself captivated by its story and testimony. Maybe it’s the week when I chose not to go with my parents to my grandfather’s funeral, sitting instead at a Good Friday service and weeping uncontrollably for reasons I still don’t understand. I have never cried like that in all my life. To this day, hearing the the hymn Were You There When They Crucified My Lord? will bring me to my knees.

Maybe it’s all of the above.

I don’t know why, but the gospel accounts on the crucifixion cause me to want to write poetry and speak eloquently — not talk about history.

Captivating. Thundering. Deep. Moving. Profound. Disturbing. Soothing.

These are all words that only begin to scratch the surface of what I experience on Good Friday every year, in a story that speaks volumes into my heart with words I don’t fully understand.

There are moments when I see the order of death tap out in submission to something more profound than defeat could ever be.

There are moments when I feel as though God has joined us in all of our sorrow and it is so good to have His company.

There are moments when I sense the greatest statement of love that could ever be expressed, and the truly unique, counterintuitive story of a God who would lay down His life for others.

There are moments of anger when I see the injustice and confusion at why the death is necessary…

Which leads me to thoughts about atonement and how I am so thankful that so many theologians are asking such important questions about what the Bible actually teaches on atonement. These questions are important because they reach to the core of our understanding of the heart of God. Why would He die? Why would He have to die? Did He have to die? How is any of this explained logically?

These questions are important, because as I sit in those Good Friday services, I need to understand what I am witnessing and remembering.

What am I supposed to see at the cross?

While I won’t be writing about my thoughts on atonement theory, I would recommend a couple books by Tony Jones; one is A Better Atonement, a fantastic e-book that is only three chapters long. While I have not read the other book, I do know that I am greatly looking forward to Did God Kill Jesus? There is a great conversation in theological circles these days about an appropriate understanding of atonement. How did the early Christians understand Jesus’s death on the cross (Ransom-Captive Theory)? How has atonement theory evolved over time (theories like Christus Victor)? What are the dangers we find in Substitutionary Atonment (the theory held by most evangelicals today)?

Wrestling with what I believe the Scriptures teach about atonement has done nothing but help me in being captivated by the story of the cross. It has only heightened my awareness of some of the feelings, emotions, and images that surround the crucifixion.

Needless to say, I will not be attacking the Text from the same angle as I have been through this series. I don’t like dealing with the story that way. What I will be doing is taking a look at some of the aspects of the story from an independent reference point. Here is what I hope to write about:

HOLY WEEK: The Plot to Kill Jesus

HOLY WEEK: Judas

HOLY WEEK: Peter’s Denial

HOLY WEEK: Rome

Then we’ll have a discussion on the Resurrection (where I will indeed wax eloquent) and some thoughts about The Great Commission before we dive into the book of Acts.

My prayer is that the story of the cross is as meaningful of an experience to you as it is to me — that it would speak on levels my words simply never could.

My Favorite Translation

I often get asked which translation I like to use for my study of the Text. There are many different ways of answering this question, but none of them truly do.

First, there is the NIV (particularly the 1984 edition, now known as NIV84). This is the translation I use the most, by far. This isn’t so much by choice as it is familiarity. I grew up with the NIV84. I hear the verses and remember my memory verses from the NIV84. I studied under Ray Vander Laan and the Bible we all used was an NIV84. Again, this decision wasn’t made because it was the “best” translation. It was made because of familiarity.

In Bible college, the accepted translation for much of our study was the NASB. In short, I hate the NASB — for many reasons, one of them would probably be my negative feelings toward homework.

I continue to be impressed by the ESV. Time and time again in my class, when I try to catch a translation error (a dangerous game to play — the people who translated the Text are not stupid), the students who have an ESV are usually sitting with the word translated correctly, foiling my plans.

All in all, I still find that the newest, updated NIV is one of my favorites. It continues to be my “go-to” Bible and probably will for some time. I do love to brush up on my Hebrew understanding by reading the Orthodox Jewish Bible (and even Stern’s Complete Jewish Bible, as well). And nothing can beat sitting down with a good cup of coffee and the Message (I prefer the “Remix” edition). And please don’t get me started with all the whiners out there who scream about “paraphrases.” It’s the art of translation, people; on some level, it’s all a paraphrase. That’s how translation works.

But that’s not what this blog post is about.

No, I want to come and publicly declare to the world what my favorite translation of the Scriptures has always been. There is one translation that has topped them all throughout my study.

My mom.

My mom has spent her entire life trying to impress what she understands about God onto her children. She has taken the commandments of God and incarnated them for the family to see. She has learned about God’s compassion and she has shown us compassion. She has learned about God’s forgiveness and she has never failed to model forgiveness to us. She has learned about God’s faithfulness and she has never ceased to be faithful.

My mom has never translated the Text from the Hebrew into the English. My mom has never parsed a Greek verb in her life.

But my mom has spent her life translating the Text for her family.

My wife has often commented at how frustrating it can be to feel so guilty that she doesn’t have time to study the Text like I do. The Jews teach that while the men of the family race off to school to learn the Text and pass it on to their families, the women are busy putting it into practice.

While I sit in my office studying the nuances of a Text that changes lives, the great women of my life have been busy living it. While I prepare to teach others, they already started teaching long ago.

So if I might take a break from our blog series, it would be worth it to pause and say thank you to my mom. You are the best translation I have ever had the privilege to experience. Thanks for your commitment. Thanks for your dedication. Thanks for never giving up on any of us — but even more importantly, never giving up on God.

Thanks, Mom. We love you.

Happy Mother’s Day.

XOXO