Journeying Home

I ended the last post by stating that the church’s life should be God’s blessing to all. What does that mean? What does that look like?

The other day I heard Bishop Todd Hunter describe followers of Jesus as “God’s cosmic first-responders.” I really like that image. Those who follow Jesus are being formed in his virtues and trained in his vocation so that they can rush into the places of the world’s pain in order to bring God’s comfort, restoration and healing. This is what it means to be God’s blessing.

This is also a great image of Romans 8, which we have explored in previous posts. Like a set of Russian stacking dolls, God’s Spirit is in us and we are in the world. In this “middle position” suspended between heaven and earth (remember that Romans 8 is an image of the cross), we echo the world’s anguished groans with our own travail. And God’s Spirit groans within us with intercession. We become the place where heaven and earth meet. We become the place where the world’s anguished cries are shaped and transformed by the Spirit’s anguished intercession into real human prayer through us.

So what does this look like? I believe Paul’s imagery in Romans 8 finds real-world expression in his short letter to Philemon. Paul writes to Philemon, a partner in Paul’s ministry, about Onesimus. Onesimus is a slave who ran away from Philemon’s household. After his escape, he somehow meets Paul and is ultimately converted to follow Christ.

Paul stands between these two men, embodying God’s gospel of reconciliation. He brings together two men — master and slave —  and offers his own livelihood to cover any loss so that they might be reconciled and restored.

“So, anyway, if you reckon me a partner in your work, receive him as though he was me. And if he’s wronged you in any way, or owes you anything, put that down on my account. This is me, Paul, writing with my own hand: I’ll pay you back (and far be it from me to remind you that you owe me your own very self!).” -Philemon 17-19

This is Romans 8 in action — self-sacrifice in order to bring about healing, restoration and unity.

In fact, I would venture to say that unity among Christ’s followers is perhaps Paul’s greatest real-world expression of the Gospel. Unity is “proof” that the Gospel is real. Think about how much Paul talks about unity throughout his letters. It’s both a central theological and practical theme in all of his writings.

For example, Paul states in Colossians 1:27, “To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” I believe the popular reading of this verse is misleading — Christ in me is the hope of my glory. Rather, the “you” is plural. And glory is God’s restorative reign on the earth, through his human image-bearers. So Colossians 1:27 is more likely to mean, “Christ in all of you in unified community is the hope of God’s full restorative and healing reign upon the creation, which will be through his unified image-bearers.” Simply put, Christ-indwelt unity among Jesus’ apprentices is the sign and hope of God’s fulfilled New Creation, which will ultimately be implemented through Jesus’ apprentices.

If that’s the case, then the Church’s role of being God’s blessing means to embed ourselves in the pain and anguish of disunity and division in an effort of embodying God’s love and reconciliation. Like an EMT specifically equipped to intervene in tragedy with life-giving care and skill, Jesus’ followers must be formed in theological imagination, character, and skills in order to help birth God’s New Creation from the pain of the old through love and reconciliation.

We’re not talking about a mushy “Can’t we all just get along?” bandaid approach. That won’t bring healing in the midst of abuse, racism, poverty, suspicion, entitlement, narcissism, consumerism and the many other forms of injustice that divide and enslave.

And if Paul’s example to Philemon provides any indication, the primary character and skill needed is sacrificial love — love for both parties that lays down one’s life and livelihood to help them reconcile.

I’m astounded at Paul’s approach with these men. He reminds them to follow Christ. He reminds them of his love for both of them. He reminds them of their value to each other. He reminds them that their relationship in Abraham’s family supersedes any societal relationships. And he offers himself as the bridge between both to make reconciliation impossible to ignore.

Sometimes Paul is critiqued by modern readers for not confronting societal injustice such as slavery or women’s rights. But in this letter, he is doing just that in a very subversive way. By encouraging Philemon to reconcile and receive Onesimus back as a brother rather than a slave, Paul is undermining the master-slave structure so central to Roman society. That’s because true unity and love in people’s lives have more Gospel power and transformation than shouting at a structural juggernaut.

So we need to ask ourselves, what is needed to bring understanding, love, care, compassion and unity to divided people and relationships? What is needed between those of different values, sexual orientation, political ideologies, religious beliefs, cultures and other polarizing factors?

Just from personal observations, our society seems more polarized than ever. Social media has become the monkey cage at the zoo, each person zealously flinging their own verbal poo at each other in an attempt to out-shout and out-shame those who disagree. Very few are willing to talk, listen and understand those who hold different values and beliefs.

But Jesus’ followers must be different. We must embed ourselves into real relationships. And with formed character and trained skill, we must work at bringing unity and reconciliation, whether between two people or two groups or two countries depending on one’s level of influence.

This is dirty and painful work. Remember, we’re embedded in a world that is groaning in travail. The world’s pain will be our pain and we will echo their groaning with our own. That’s part of the redemptive transformative work of the New Creation. Like Jesus’ New Creation work on the cross, we too will bear the world’s pain, anguish and wounds. The work of the cross will always bear the wounds of the cross. There’s no avoiding it.

This quick post is simply to say that I will be taking a short break until the new year. Nothing big. My goal is to spend quality time with my family, reading, writing and taking photos — all the things I love! I’ll be back sometime in early 2017, God willing. Until then, have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Here’s a short excerpt from “The Akathist of Thanksgiving” that my youngest son, Chris, found and sent me. May your holidays be filled with awe, love, thanksgiving and worship.

When we read Genesis 1 through the worldview of an ancient Israelite, we discover that it is an account about the functional origin of creation and not necessarily about its material origin. As such, creation functions as God’s temple. He creates it out of his incredible love as a place where he will dwell and rule, merging heaven and earth. And he chooses to reign over creation through humans, who are created in his image.

Humans occupy an unique place as image-bearers. But what does this mean? Genesis 2 provides some striking answers. Where Genesis 1 was an account of the origin of function, Genesis 2 is an account of the origin of identity.

As in my last post, I won’t lay out the detailed arguments presented by Dr. John Walton. Rather, I will simply state a couple of his findings and discuss their implications.

Genesis 2:15 states, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” Walton concludes that the Garden is the place where God walked and dwelt with Adam and Eve. Therefore it is not simply a “garden,” but rather it is sacred space. Also, the Hebrew words for “work” and “take care” are better translated “serve” and “protect.” These words mean more than simply “gardening.” Instead, they hint at a priestly vocation.

In other words, Genesis 2 is detailing humanity’s vocation as God’s image-bearers. They are a royal priesthood within God’s temple, that is creation. In communion with God, humans are to serve and protect this sacred space where heaven and earth merge. They are to be a royal priesthood through whom God lovingly reigns and cares over the rest of the world (the royal part) and through whom all of creation’s worship is gathered and offered back to God (the priestly part).

N.T. Wright describes the vocation of being image-bearers as an “angled mirror.” Imagine an L-shaped hallway with a room at each end. At the bend rests a large mirror that allows occupants of each room to view down the hall and around the corner into the other rooms. In a similar way, that is the vocation of an image-bearer. God can reflect his love, care, justice and stewardship into the world through humans. The rest of the world can praise, worship and express thanksgiving to God through humans. When human care for the world, they are doing so as God’s royal representatives. When humans worship God, they are doing so as Creation’s priestly representatives. Through us, the two dimensions of heaven and earth see and interact with each other.

But this vocation was distorted through idolatry and sin. Abraham and his family-nation were gifted with an unique covenant, law, land and temple in order to be God’s royal priesthood, a kingdom of priests among the rest of the nations. But they also failed. But in faithfulness to his covenant and love for the world, God gave his Son as the true Royal Priest. Jesus’ crucifixion broke the power of idolatry that has distorted our vocation, restoring us back as God’s true image-bearers within a new world order launched at Jesus’ resurrection.

N.T. Wright puts some feet on what our image-bearing vocation looks like in our world:

“Our task as image-bearing, God-loving, Christ-shaped, Spirit-filled Christians, following Christ and shaping our world, is to announce redemption to a world that has discovered its fallenness, to announce healing to a world that has discovered its brokenness, to proclaim love and trust to a world that knows only exploitation, fear and suspicion…The gospel of Jesus points us and indeed urges us to be at the leading edge of the whole culture, articulating in story and music and art and philosophy and education and poetry and politics and theology and even–heaven help us–Biblical studies, a worldview that will mount the historically-rooted Christian challenge to both modernity and postmodernity, leading the way…with joy and humor and gentleness and good judgment and true wisdom.”

“By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.” -Genesis 2:2-3

One of the fascinating theological perspectives I have experienced over the past few years is Dr John Walton’s explanation of Genesis 1.

In my Revelation: Revisited series I stated, “False expectations can lead to incorrect interpretations.” This has surely been the case with Genesis 1 through decades of modern biblical interpretation. Probably the biggest false expectation we have brought to Genesis 1 is reading this chapter as an account of the material creation of the world. Christians are then compelled to find some explanation that syncs what they perceive to be an account of the material creation with scientific discoveries regarding the age and processes of the cosmos as we currently understand them. This has led either to stretching the biblical text beyond its original intention or concocting some crazy scientific options.

However, John Walton rightly encourages us to read Genesis 1 from the worldview of an ancient Israelite. When we do, we discover significant clues that help us understand what the author was originally communicating.

The primary clue occurs in the verse mentioned above — God “rested” from all his work. For anyone in that time period and worldview, it meant one thing. This has been a description of the creation of God’s temple. In that ancient worldview, gods “rested” in temples because temples were built for the singular purpose for gods to “rest.”

In this context, “rest” doesn’t refer to relaxation and leisure. It refers to getting on with one’s real purpose now that the preparations are complete. So when God “rests” on the seventh day, it means he’s entering his temple to sit upon his throne and to begin reigning and ruling over the cosmos. Bottom-line, the temple is where God “rests” upon his throne, which means to rule.

I’m not going to lay out all the arguments here. If you’re interested in examining this perspective in detail, I would point you to John Walton’s book, The Lost World of Genesis 1 or encourage you to search Youtube for any of Dr Walton’s lectures by the same title that summarizes his position.

Suffice it to say, this perspective of Genesis 1 is an exciting take on this text for a few reasons. First, it reads this chapter from the worldview of its original audience, which is the first step of proper biblical interpretation. Second, it navigates a thoughtful path through the treacherous landscape of debates between faith and science. And third, it adds a vibrant dimension to the ongoing saga of God’s work of bringing about his New Creation within this present creation as well as humanity’s role in this drama.

So Genesis 1, from an ancient Israel perspective, is not about the material creation of the world, but about how God is configuring the world to operate and function as his temple. From this perspective, physical temples were the place that connected to the heavenly temple. In other words, the temple is the place where heaven and earth merged. And within the physical temple where heaven and earth met, rested a statue that was the earthly, physical image of the heavenly god.

The author of Genesis 1 is providing a startling take. Israel’s God, the true God, has configured the entire world to function as his cosmic temple where the dimensions of heaven and earth merge. And within this cosmic temple he has created human beings to function as his living and breathing image. With his final greatest configuration of humans as his living image-bearers in his cosmic temple, God now “rests”, i.e. rules the cosmos. And he reigns over the cosmos through his living image-bearers.

In Luke 12:13-34, Jesus is asked to arbitrate a property dispute between brothers. He responds with a warning agains all kinds of greed, followed by a parable about the “foolish farmer” whose plans to build larger storehouses were interrupted by his own mortality. Jesus follows the parable with further teaching about not being anxious, climaxing with the famous saying, “But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

Jesus’ words cuts through real life, whether it’s the first century or the twenty-first century. Anxiety over material provisions seems to be a common human experience regardless of time, place or culture. But Jesus’ words are more than an exhortation to live a care-free life. They cut cross-grain with his original audience’s understanding of God.

God gifted Israel with the Torah, Temple and Land in order to train them to be a nation that would be God’s presence in order to rescue and bless the other nations. But like the foolish farmer in Jesus’ parable, they turned these overflowing gifts inward upon themselves rather than lavishing them upon their surrounding neighbors.

So the man that requested Jesus’ intervention in the property dispute was attempting to cling to his small portion of the Holy Land, a familial toe-hold in his ethnic identity and therefore his place in God’s special people. Possession of the land had mutated from a gift to bless others to a symbol of one’s secure placement in God’s family. This man, and his fellow kinsmen, had become like the foolish farmer who was selfishly consumed with his own personal economic and religious security.

But Jesus quickly moves from this one man’s individual case to the core of humanity’s shared experience. The anxiety that consumed this man regarding his property consumes all of us. Remember that most of Jesus’ original audience had just enough for that day. And the reality of not having enough for tomorrow always haunted them. A serious illness or injury would mean instant destitution. So anxiety and the compulsion to store a little more for one’s security is an authentic human need in their world and ours.

And so Jesus points to the birds and flowers, reminding us that “Life is more than food.” He’s not waxing poetic or being a dreamy-eyed hippie. He’s confronting the core of broken human experience with the reality of God’s kingdom. As the world’s King, God lavishes his love and power upon his creation, so that we, his image-bearers, may relax in his abundant and sovereign provision and do the same.

Humans are created to bless. It’s part of being God’s image-bearers. He’s a loving and blessing God, and were are designed to do the same. But anxiety short-circuits our ability to bless. Anxiety disconnects us from our blessing God and pulls us in a deepening spiral inward when our vocation is to be outward.

Jesus’ words are not an encouragement to live a care-free and happy life. It’s not a 1st century version of “Don’t worry. Be happy.” In fact, on the crazy-difficult chart, this ranks up there with “Loving and forgiving your enemies.” This is counter-intuitive to the common human experience.

But that’s usually true of God’s kingdom. Jesus said elsewhere that his kingdom is not from this world. Therefore living in it requires an entirely new way of life, one that doesn’t make sense from a mere human perspective.

While the intuitive approach to life is to first focus on providing for ourselves and family, save enough to be secure, and from that bless others, Jesus summarizes life in God’s new world order, “Seek God’s kingdom and these things will be given to you as well.” In other words, turn our focus to our loving and blessing God. Direct our primary efforts to becoming like him, to being his image-bearers.

In practical terms, we are to become “blessing machines.” We are to become people who naturally and automatically lavish love, generosity, compassion, encouragement and hospitality upon others. Make blessing others our “career.” Bless others with our presence, our time, our words, and our resources. And then rely on God to provide everything we need. And as we pursue our vocation in God’s kingdom, reflecting his image into the world as a constant source of blessing, we can securely relax in God’s sovereign care like the birds and flowers do.

This doesn’t come naturally for many of us. We have to develop these kind of habits, so they can become natural reflexes in our lives. In his short book, Surprise the World, Michael Frost encourages Christ-followers to learn new habits. One of these core habits is blessing others. He encourages us to develop this habit by intentionally choosing to bless at least three people a week. He defines blessing as “strengthening another’s arm.” In other words, we are to proactively choose three people each week that we can strengthen in any way that relieves their burden, lifts their spirit or alleviates distress. It can be anything such as an encouraging word, a kind act or a gift.

Again, the point is to become “blessing machines” that naturally churn out blessings for the sake of others. And be doing so, we restoratively reflect our loving and blessing God into our world.

Thus God’s New Creation is a Reality absent of anxiety and filled with blessing.

As I reflect on this past US election cycle, I’ve made a couple of observations.

I apologize now. I’m putting on my old preacher’s cap and I’m going to speak to my fellow Christ-followers. So if you don’t want a sermon, please turn away now. Also, I’m preaching to myself as well and not singling out any person or group.

My first observation is that our behavior during the past several months is symptomatic of a serious problem as Christ-followers. (And again, I’m speaking to myself about this as well.) The fact that we either joined in the endless arguing or stayed on the sidelines confused and befuddled only shows that we have misplaced our trust in our democratic system. So when faced with candidates with little moral integrity, we fell into the trap of voting for the one who would do the least amount of damage or keep the other “monster” out of office and from destroying our country.

I suspect that with the best intentions, all of us believed we should do something, but couldn’t determine the best course of action that resonated with our conscience and values. So most of us compromised in one way or another.

And that leads me to my second observation. Most, if not all, of us have no imagination about how to actually be God’s New Creation in the here and now. It’s true with politics and probably in other important areas of life.

Let me back up and summarize. Christ died to defeat all the evil powers enslaving humankind and restore us ontologically (our nature) and vocationally (our roles) as his image-bearers. The immediate consequence of that victory was Jesus’ resurrection. This launched God’s future New Creation, when God would fully and finally merge heaven and earth, the two spheres of his good creation. But Jesus’ resurrection launched that future reality in the here and now. Jesus’ Ascension and Pentecost then “sealed the deal.” In his ascension part of “earth” — Jesus’ human body — is fully at home in “heaven” and part of “heaven” — God’s empowering Spirit — now dwells on earth in our human bodies.

St Paul tells us in 2Corinthians 5:17, “If anyone is in Messiah, new creation!” That person has both entered God’s New Creation and is God’s New Creation in bodily form.

So everything God accomplished in Jesus is now carried onward by Jesus’ followers. We are his New Creation and we continue his New Creation.

I’ve used this metaphor before, but becoming the New Creation is like training for the marathon. It’s not something that comes naturally. One cannot “Just do it!” Or to shift metaphors, living in and being God’s New Creation is like learning a new language. You may be able to initially fake a couple of words, but it takes time and effort to speak fluently in that language. Or to use another metaphor, living in God’s new world order and embodying his new world order is like learning to play the violin. We can all probably make it squeak and squawk. But to learn and master the instrument in order to play a fine classical number with passion and nuance takes discipline and diligence.

I’m sure you get my point. The fact that most of us either joined in the incendiary pre-election conversations (and I use the word “conversations” in the lightest way possible) or wrestled with almost paralyzing uncertainty about how to vote shows that we have not trained properly to be God’s New Creation. We were not ready to be and act as his New Creation.

So how do we move forward from here? Here are some suggestions that I plan to prayerfully follow.

First, we must learn what it means to be God’s New Creation and how to become it and live in it in our present daily lives. This means growing in our understanding and imagination about what the New Creation is. It also means being formed into Jesus’ likeness so we can be and act as God’s image-bearers.

Second, we must do this in community together. Jesus’ people, as a community, are his Body. We must share in life and in His life together. Regardless of our traditions, we must come together with the common goal of being with Jesus in order to learn from Jesus how to be like Jesus.

Third, in community, we must prayerfully seek and then in faith develop strategies for being God’s New Creation in every facet of life. Remember, God’s New Creation is an entirely new world order that requires rethinking and reimagining how to live in all of its facets.

In some ways, we need to backwards-engineer God’s New Creation. With thoughts and imaginations formed by a biblical vision, we must ask what steps must we take as individuals and as a community to see it birthed and matured in our lives.

For example, what character and behavior needs to be developed in my life and what spiritual disciplines, sacraments, prayers, and activities is God calling me to practice in cooperation with his continually forming process?

Or, what areas of need, pain and injustice exist in our neighboring community that our faith-community can engage with God’s love, compassion, power and healing? And how do we go about doing that?

Or, how do we address the real grit of daily life as God’s New Creation? How to be single as his New Creation. How to be married as his New Creation. How to be divorced as his New Creation. How to be a parent as his New Creation. How to be in business as his New Creation. How to be in ministry as his New Creation. How to be in education as his New Creation. How to deal with injustice as his New Creation. How to engage in politics as his New Creation. The list goes on and on and on.

And none of this comes naturally. It’s fueled by intimacy with Jesus and formed in cooperation with Jesus. And it must be done in community.

But the hard work must be done. Frankly, it’s confusing and painful work. As a reminder, look to our King’s suffering upon the cross and his followers’ confusion at its foot. Look to his followers’ confusion at the empty tomb and subsequent encounters with the resurrected Lord. Look to his followers’ uncertainty at the ascension. Look to the onlookers’ befuddlement at the Spirit’s gifting. Look to the early community’s fumblings as they learn together how to live together. Look to the early messengers like St Paul as they, with much persecution and suffering, contextualized and embodied God’s New Creation in new territories and cultures.

St Paul says in Romans 8:19, “Yes: creation itself is on tiptoe with expectation, eagerly awaiting the moment when God’s children will be revealed.” That day will finally and fully come. But it began when, through his death, Jesus restored us as God’s image-bearers and then launched God’s New Creation so that we may carry it onward until the day when God completes his good work.

The scene unfolds in mere seconds. In the deep darkness lit by a several torches, a crowd approaches. Their intentions are clear. They’ve come to arrest Jesus and his followers. Where moments before the torchlight of his friends had lulled Peter to sleep, the torchlights of this hostile crowd snaps him awake.

He reacts. A glint of metal. A scream of pain. Malchus, the high priest’s servant, unsuccessfully dodges the swipe. The sword grazes the right side of his head and tears off his ear. He grabs his head as blood spurts between his fingers.

Jesus’ voice cuts through the anger and chaos, “That’s enough!” He reaches out, touches Malchus’ head and heals him.

Jesus and Peter face the same hostile crowd. But they operate from two completely different kingdoms. Jesus would soon tell Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world.”

Peter does battle from his kingdom. In anger he lashes out, sheds blood and runs.

Jesus does battle from his kingdom. In peace, he reaches out, heals and surrenders.

As the saga moves toward the climax of the crucifixion, both Peter and Jesus would continue to act from their respective kingdoms. For Peter, the same fear that compelled him to attack and flee forced him to deny Christ.

But Jesus continues to “fight” in a manner fitting of his kingdom. He embodies the non-violent strategy of his own teaching in Matthew 5 — turn the other cheek, walk the second mile, give your shirt and coat. NT Wright summarizes, “He would stand there unresisting as people slapped him and mocked him. He would be compelled by the Roman soldiers to carry his burden all the way to Golgotha. He would find his clothes stripped off him and divided up. And, as he died, one of those very soldiers would declare that he really was the son of God.”

Notice the irony. A soldier, a trained killing machine of the most brutal kingdom on earth, upon witnessing Jesus’ “fight” declares that Jesus was the “son of God,” the true Caesar.

To quote NT Wright again, “When God wants to take charge of the world, he doesn’t send in the tanks. He sends in the poor and the meek.”

You see, Jesus always confronts the love of power of this world’s kingdom with the power of love of his New Creation kingdom. That’s how Jesus fights for a world worth fighting for.

Here’s a thought today as we celebrate Thanksgiving in the U.S.

“True gratitude both for the present world and for the world to come is the deepest and truest form of worship… When you bow down before the living God and thank him from the bottom of your heart for what he’s done and for what he will do, it is as though you are a priest in the Temple, offering the purest, most unblemished sacrifice. Only much, much more so. That is the privilege of the being a follower of Jesus the Messiah. That is the life to which our fiery God now calls us.” -NT Wright, Hebrews For Everyone

As Election Day in the US approached, I noticed several posts along the lines of, “Whoever is elected, remember that God is still on his throne.” I know these statements were offered with the best intentions, reminding us that God is still in control.

Usually, this sentiment is offered when circumstances are difficult, chaotic, and completely out of our control. It’s an encouragement not to worry and to trust God’s sovereignty during tumultuous times. And surely, God is in control. His sovereignty covers our world so that we may truly relax in the knowledge that God is in control. However, the sentiment can imply an incorrect level of passivity.

In Revelation, when God is depicted on his throne, it actually conveys a high level of active participation in his reign. Simply put, God’s sovereign good plan for his creation is for his son to save a royal priesthood, to restore the human vocation of being image-bearers and to restore Israel’s vocation of being a rescuing blessing to the nations. Thus, God is on his throne, so we, his royal priesthood, have work to do. 

Because God is on his throne, he is implementing his good plan for his creation. Because God is on his throne, he has saved a royal priesthood who will accept the image-bearing, nation-blessing vocation. Because God is on his throne, Jesus’ followers must be the New Creation in human form. Because God is on his throne, the Church must grapple with being expressions of God’s kingdom, implementing compassion, healing and justice. Because God is on the throne, Jesus’ followers must overcome and learn to be like him, the place where heaven and earth merge for the life and sake of our families, relationships, places of work, neighborhoods, nations and world.

Because God is on his throne we can get back to work.

I’m waiting eagerly and full of hope, because nothing is going to put me to shame. I am going to be bold and outspoken, now as always, and the king is going to gain a great reputation through my body, whether in life or in death. You see, for me to live means the Messiah; to die means to make a profit. If it’s to be living on in the flesh, that means fruitful work for me. Actually, I don’t know which I would choose. I’m pulled both ways at once: I would really love to leave all this and be with the king, because that would be far better. But staying on here in the flesh is more vital for your sake. Since I’ve become convinced of this, I know that I will remain here, and stay alongside all of you, to help you to advance and rejoice in your faith, so that the pride you take in King Jesus may overflow because of me, when I come to visit you once again. – Philippians 1:20-26

This passage from St Paul, among a few others, has served as a diagnostic tool for most of my life as his follower. Early on, as a young Christian, I remember rashly thinking that I could easily die for Jesus. My zealous idealism had found it’s purpose in Christ. I would die for him if necessary. I could easily be a martyr, or so I thought. I even had a gun put to my head after a Bible study and was told, “I could shoot you right now.” My response was “Go ahead. I’m not afraid.” Spoiler alert… I’m still here decades later.

Sometime later, I heard someone say that dying for Jesus was fairly simple. But living for Jesus was difficult because you had to die every day, even every moment. While I didn’t understand it fully then, that statement has proven to be true.

Many years have passed since Jesus called me to follow him. And while the overall trajectory of my life has been in faithful service to Jesus, the shiny, sharp zeal of my youth has been dinged and dulled over time. Like the extra physical weight one easily puts on as the decades pass, accumulated comfort and compromise have weighed me down spiritually. I have transitioned from a single teenager with little responsibilities to a married man and father with a career, possessions, responsibilities, stress, and obligations. And in this place, I realize that neither dying nor living for Christ is particularly easy.

Paul’s declaration stands in contrast to my life. His declaration was neither the uninformed zeal of immaturity nor the regret-filled reflections of middle-age. Instead, it’s the rock-solid maturity of a man whose imagination and daily life are shaped by both an intimacy with Jesus and a vocation in his new world order. He is a man in love with his God and equally in love with the men, women and children in his care.

He is a man so intimate and enamored with King Jesus that his personal desire is to die and be with him. And he is a man so intimate and enamored with King Jesus that he equally desires to live and serve him in people’s lives, even when that service will result in further suffering and humiliation as he’s already experiencing.

So I have to believe there’s something more going on here rather than just living or dying. Paul is trying to encourage the Philippian Christians during his current imprisonment. He’s not sure of its outcome, so he’s informing the Philippians that he’s okay with either dying or living.

And that’s kind of the point. His statement is an autobiographical window into his heart, motives and the ongoing reality of his life — his intimacy and devotion to King Jesus. He loves Jesus so much that he equally longs to be with Jesus and serve Jesus in people’s lives. When given the choice, he’s torn between the two. Everything else falls aside.

In the previous post, we saw how Jesus told his kinsmen to pay Caesar in his own coin, cold metal currency stamped with his image. But we are to pay God in his own coin, lives of loving devotion stamped with God’s image.

Paul demonstrates that martyrdom and service are the two sides of the same coin of love. And while he knows that circumstances aren’t determined by the random flip of the coin, he is content whichever side the coin lands. That’s because both his life and death are expressions of the same love for King Jesus.

And it forces me to look at my relationship with King Jesus. While I believe I love him, the personal difficulty of either living or dying for him reveals that my love has far more to grow.

Similar to Paul’s declaration, John Wimber used to say that he simply wanted to be the coins in God’s pocket, to be spent any way God chooses. That’s my desire to. Well at least I want to want that.

“Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar or not? Should we pay it, or shouldn’t we?”

The question is not a neutral inquiry. It’s a loaded question, a well-conceived trap.

This is a very dangerous moment for Jesus. His kinsmen recognize that he is leading a kingdom-of-God movement. They interpret it as a revolution, a push for Jewish political independence. Similar attempts had been made by others in Israel’s recent history. This is what the Messiah was supposed to do, so the crowd’s expectations were high. One way these revolutions declared Jewish independence was to stop paying taxes to Rome. But Rome did not tolerate revolutions. People had been executed for previous anti-tax revolutions.

So the question is meant to flush out Jesus, to make him go public either as an anti-tax, and therefore an anti-Roman revolutionary, or as a compromising leader who doesn’t truly oppose Rome and therefore is not truly the Messiah.

Almost everyone in the crowd hoped he would declare an anti-tax stance. For some, this would give them the evidence needed to report him to the authorities. For others, they longed for a leader who would deliver them from Roman rule. And opposing Roman taxes is exactly what the Messiah would do. Regardless of the motivations, Roman justice would be swift and Jesus would be killed. And his enemies would finally be rid of him.

But if he didn’t oppose taxes, it would prove he wasn’t the Messiah and he risked losing the people’s loyalty or worse. So this was a “damned if you do and damned if you don’t” scenario.

All it would take is the wrong statement and the trap would spring. But Jesus recognizes the game they’re playing. He knows this volatile moment requires a pithy proclamation, not a lengthy lecture.

“Bring me a coin,” Jesus requests. And someone produces one. It’s not an ordinary coin. It’s a Roman coin. A hated, despised coin. For stamped on the coin was the image of Caesar and the inscription proclaiming him as “son of god” and “chief priest.” Jews were not supposed to possess images of humans or gods. Yet someone did, as did most in the crowd.

“This image and this inscription. Who do they belong to?” Jesus almost spits it out, disgusted at the coin in his hand. A false ruler professing to be a god.

“Caesar,” is the crowd’s answer.

“Then pay back Caesar in his own coin.” He pauses. “ And pay back God in his own coin!”

The crowd gasps! They know what he’s implying. For each of them has been taught from childhood that they bear the image of God.

And like a flip of a coin, Jesus flips the conversation on the crowd. They were expecting an uncompromising Messianic revolutionary, one who would stick a fist in Rome’s face. But he was exposing their own compromise. Their idea of a revolution was to withhold money from Rome, money they shouldn’t even possess or use. Yet, they carried the despised money in their own pockets and pouches. A people who once declared “God is our King” now lives comfortably under a false king pretending at being a false god.

The real revolution isn’t about withholding. If Caesar wants his despicable coins back, then give them to him. They’re his to begin with. And you’re already inwardly compromised and enslaved to his system for having and using the coins.

The true revolution that needs to occur comes about by giving. So more importantly than giving Caesar his coins, give God his “coins,” your lives that bear the stamp of his image. That will change you and then that will impact the world around you. That’s how the real revolution takes place.

You see, Jesus’ answer wasn’t a safe dodge. He was a revolutionary. Just not the kind everyone expected. He knew he was on the road to a crucifixion just like the anti-tax revolutionaries of his past. But his revolutionary world-altering death would be on his own terms. He would not die like those before him, locked in the conventional power struggle with Rome. No. That’s not how false powers are overturned.

When, in loving loyalty, God receives his due — the human “coins” stamped with his image — then the true revolution can begin, a revolution of sacrificial love.

That’s when things really flip.

The news on both traditional and social media the past several months continues to remind me of a very poignant truth. James 1:20 says, “Human anger, you see, doesn’t produce God’s justice!”

I get it. There’s a lot of injustice in the world and in our neighborhoods. Civilians and law enforcement officers are being slain. The brokenness of our justice and political systems is more apparent than ever. Our democratic system has devolved into people preparing to vote for a presidential candidate that they believe is less dangerous to our country than the other. We’re prepared to vote for the less of two evils rather than for a candidate we trust and believe in.

We live in volatile times. People are justifiably frustrated and angry. And the abounding click-bait, memes, conspiracy theories and extremely biased reporting are like stones thrown at an already aggravated wasp nest. People are screaming at each other and genuine conversation has stalled.

People want justice. And the primary avenues are social media, voting polls, or demonstrations, all of which fan rage rather than forge resolutions.

But what was true 2000 years ago is still true today — human anger doesn’t produce God’s justice. Rather it produces misunderstanding, dehumanization, violence, and vengeance. It’s like vigorously shaking a can of mixed paint hoping the colors will separate. That’s not how it works. And the fact that it’s not working angers us further.

Ironically, anger is one of the most potent human emotions, yet is completely impotent in implementing lasting justice.

At the risk of sounding extremely simplistic, God’s New Creation, launched by Jesus, is our world’s only hope. But this New Creation requires an entirely new way of living as human beings. It’s neither a christianized version of the Democratic nor Republican platforms. It’s not about legislating morality or Christian values. Most of the Church’s political endeavors have been embarrassing distractions at best and societal calamities at worst.

Jesus said his kingdom is not from this world. It doesn’t use the world’s techniques. But Jesus’ kingdom, while not being from this world, is for this world. In other words, his completely new world order and the requisite new way of life originates from outside our world systems and doesn’t use our world systems to implement its transformation.

So, the first step in embracing God’s New Creation is embracing Jesus as King of this world. While discussing this isn’t the point of this post, it’s the primary step to being part of Jesus’ revolutionary world order and way of life.

Let me just say that we’re talking about something far greater than the modern Christian idea of “asking Jesus for forgive you so you can go to heaven.” That is a foreign concept injected back into Scriptures. Jesus didn’t come to dole out personal forgiveness in an effort to rescue your disembodied soul to a distant and disconnected heaven. Rather, he came to embody Israel’s God on earth. By doing so, he climaxed Israel’s generations-old story by establishing Israel’s God as King, vanquishing evil and launching God’s New Creation. In order to be part of this, he’s requiring you to give him your full allegiance as King (faith) and to follow him in order to learn to be like him and to carry on his project for the sake of the world.

This then requires learning to implement his transformation without engaging in the techniques and tactics of this world, especially anger.

If Jesus’ followers are serious about cooperating in God’s New Creation project, we must simultaneously rout out our broken internal sources of anger and disconnect ourselves from external sources of anger. Frankly, based on just my Facebook feed, I think many of us need to take a long hiatus from politics.

Let me put it this way… anger is dehumanizing. If you always believe you’re right and are angry that people don’t see things your way, then you’re dehumanizing people. If people in a different political camp always anger you, then you’ve dehumanized them. If you’ve embraced conspiracy theories about the “other side” or view them as opposing God’s agenda while viewing your group as champions of God’s cause, then you’ve dehumanized them. Absolutely none of this is part of God’s kingdom or part of the restorative transformation his kingdom brings.

In a recent post, we explored how the Church, as Jesus’ Body filled with God’s Spirit, is to be a giant version of Jesus. Paul tells us that the fruit of the Spirit is a strong and sober multi-faceted character expressed in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. So this is a description of “giant Jesus.” This is the character that Jesus’ Body should embody if he is truly our King.

So in Jesus’ Body, there is no place or excuse for the anger and rage prevalent in our society. We must stop participating in it and contributing to it. Rather than achieving justice, it only perpetuates injustice.

I’ve remained fairly silent in regards to the upcoming U.S. presidential election. I’ll be honest, I don’t find affinity with any of the presidential candidates. So I’m not voting for any of them.

The arguments that I’m wasting my vote and my wasted vote will put a candidate into the White House who will then appoint Supreme Court justices doesn’t hold water for me.

That’s because I don’t think God’s kingdom is affected in the slightest by whichever person sits in the White House or any other branch of government. As such, I don’t think voting is a Kingdom obligation. It’s an American right. But that shouldn’t be confused with a Kingdom obligation. What matters to God’s Kingdom is how Jesus’ followers live.

In that light, I’m not against anyone voting or participating in the democratic process. I just don’t see it as having much weight in God’s Kingdom.

In fact, I believe human government should be viewed similarly to how Jesus viewed divorce in Matthew 19:8, “Jesus replied, ‘Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning.’”

In a similar way, God permitted human government among his people because their hearts were hard. Remember in 1Samuel 8 how Israel asked for a king? God told them that they were to have no human king since God was their King. But because the people kept insisting on a human king, God relented.

But the original intention was that God would be King over his people. They were never to rely on a human government like the surrounding nations. In addition, God’s Laws should not be viewed as other societies’ laws. While providing a semblance of governance to God’s unique society, they were actually to be used in conjunction with his other gifts — Land and Temple — to train God’s people into the embodiment of God so they could restore Adam’s fall and bless the nations.

But human government is a reality. So how should we deal with it? Let’s look at Jesus, Paul and John.

How did Jesus deal with human government? He confronted it by embodying God’s New Creation in human form. He was launching a radically new world order that required a radically new way of being human. As he embodied, demonstrated and announced this New Creation, it naturally confronted the old order and false powers.

And when push ultimately came to shove, the old order and false powers killed him. That’s what false powers do. Death is their ultimate weapon. But God resurrected Jesus! God’s last word, his final confrontation with the old order and false powers is the launching of his New Creation smack-dab in the middle of this old broken one. The resurrected King Jesus now holds the keys to the old order’s ultimate weapon, death and hades (Revelation 1:18). By his death he has trampled down death.

How did Paul deal with human government? He planted outposts of God’s New Creation, communities of King Jesus’ followers throughout the greatest Empire at the time. Wherever he went, he proclaimed a counter-Caesar message right under Caesar’s nose. Jesus is the world’s True Lord and King! Give your allegiance to King Jesus! Live his New Creation life! And Paul lived it himself even to the point of house arrest and ultimate martyrdom.

How did John deal with human government? He encourages the communities of King Jesus’ followers with an incredible vision to overcome temptation, seduction and persecution. He pens a brilliant prophetic image-scape showing God on his Throne and King Jesus implementing God’s plan to rescue and restore Creation by being the sacrificial lamb. As King Jesus’ followers embody the Lamb’s sacrificial life, God ultimately confronts the world’s evil powers, restores creation and establishes his reign. Through the faithful living of King Jesus’ followers, Jesus’ prayer, “Your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” is answered and the New Creation comes in its fullness.

The U.S. presidential election will come and go as it has every four years. When the dust settles this year, someone will be sitting in the White House. Whoever wins, one side will proclaim victory and the other side will prepare to blame the state of America on the imminent folly of the new president. That’s how our broken system works.

But let God pull back the thin veil between heaven and earth so, like John, you can peer into earthly circumstances from a heavenly vantage. God is on the throne! All creation worships him! King Jesus is worthy of carrying out God’s restorative plan for creation! King Jesus holds the keys to death and hades! So embody sacrificial lives in allegiance to King Jesus! As a community, let our counter-Caesar, New Creation-launching lives stand in stark counterpoint and confrontation to broken human government.

I was listening to a recent interview with Greg Boyd and he said something that really gripped my imagination. He said the Church is supposed to be a giant version of Jesus.

As his body, the Church is the ongoing incarnation of Jesus. Therefore, our role is to be a “giant Jesus.”

Does this sound like too haughty of an expectation? I think Jesus himself held a similar expectation:

“However, it’s the truth that I’m telling you: it’s better for you that I should go away. If I don’t go away, you see, the helper won’t come to you. But if I go away, I will send him to you. When he comes, he will prove the world to be in the wrong on three counts: sin, justice and judgment. In relation to sin — because they don’t believe in me! In relation to justice — because I’m going to the father, and you won’t see me any more. In relation to judgment — because the ruler of this world is judged.” -John 16-7-11

How will the world be confronted in regards to sin, justice and judgment? Through the work of the Spirit living and working in Jesus’s followers.

Jesus’ followers will receive God’s Spirit. The Spirit, who is Jesus’ living presence in each of them, will transform the community of Jesus’ followers into a giant version of Jesus. Through the radically counter-cultural, post-resurrection, New Creation-launching life of this Spirit-filled community, this “giant Jesus,” God’s Spirit confronts the world and its false powers in three substantial ways — in relation to sin, justice, and judgment.

First, the Spirit-filled lifestyle of “giant Jesus” proves the world wrong in regards to sin. The world is heading in the wrong direction and thus “missing the mark,” which is “sin.” The Spirit-filled life of God’s New Creation embodied in Jesus’ followers points in the right direction.

Second, the Spirit-filled lifestyle of “giant Jesus” proves the world wrong in regards to justice. Jesus’ resurrection is God’s ultimate act of justice, of putting all wrongs to right. The Spirit-filled life of Jesus’ followers continues to confront the world’s passive ignoring and active implementing of injustice.

Third, the Spirit-filled lifestyle of “giant Jesus” proves the world wrong in regards to judgment. The “ruler of this world,” who is at work behind all governments, institutions, and powers, has been judged by Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. Through Jesus, God has been made King and Lord of Creation. Therefore, “giant Jesus” continues to live the Reality that God is King and continually judges the “ruler of this world.”

This is only one passage that depicts God’s work through the community of Jesus’ followers. There are so many more that are as equally captivating to the imagination.

So I would encourage you to take a moment and imagine what our country would be like if the Church in America were actually a living giant version of Jesus. What would that actually look like? How would that change the activities and discussions currently taking place among Jesus’ followers? What hindrances and sins would we need to throw off so we can run this race set before us (Heb 12:1)?

The other day, I was reminded of some good news.

I am not the hero in the story that is my life.

Think about that for a moment. This is really good news!

Our culture has encouraged us to view our lives as our personal stories, our narratives. From this perspective, my story is what defines me as an unique individual. As such, I am the master and commander of my life. And some of us can get pretty creative and fluid in writing our life’s narratives.

As Christians, it’s tempting to piggy-back on this idea and talk about “joining my story” to “Jesus’ Story.” While this is often taught with the best intentions, I believe it begins with a faulty premise.

In my life, I am not the hero of the story. In fact, it’s not even my story. Therefore, I can’t join “my story” to “Jesus’ Story” since it’s not my story to begin with. Rather, my life IS Jesus’ Story. He’s the leading character, the protagonist, the hero.

The Gospels present Jesus as Israel’s royal representative, the Messiah. Israel, in turn, was humanity’s representative in God’s unfolding story that climaxed in Jesus. Therefore, every human being’s life is not that individual’s story, but an unique facet of Jesus’ story experienced by that individual.

This subtle difference results in dramatic applications to how we live our lives.

Firstly, my life isn’t about me. Granted, I play an important part in that I’m experiencing everything through my body, mind and spirit. I’m thinking, feeling, acting, relating and living everything. But the narrative of my life is an unique first-person viewpoint about who Jesus is and what he’s doing from the unique perspective of my life. Paul puts it this way:

“I have been crucified with the Messiah. I am, however, alive — but it isn’t me, it’s the Messiah who lives in me. And the life I do still live in the flesh, I live within the faithfulness of the son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” -Galatians 2:20

Paul hasn’t simply merged “his story” with “Jesus’ story”. His life IS Jesus’ story. He lives it and experiences it through his body, but it’s Jesus’ life, Jesus’ story. We must not confuse our unique first-person perspective with actually being the main character. Jesus is the hero, not us.

Secondly, this is true for everyone else as well. So when we bump up against other people, we need to see Jesus’ Story unfolding in them. Mother Teresa once said:

“I see Jesus in every human being. I say to myself, this is hungry Jesus, I must feed him. This is sick Jesus. This one has leprosy or gangrene; I must wash him and tend to him. I serve because I love Jesus.”

Every person’s life is Jesus’ Story experienced from their unique perspective. Because we see everything from our first-person viewpoint, it’s easy to forget that the person in front of you in the grocery line is also living Jesus’ Story. It’s also true for the person taking forever to drop off their child at school in front of you; for the guy who almost clipped your car on the freeway; for the co-worker who’s in a bad mood; for the friend who betrayed your confidence.

All of them are living Jesus’ Story. He’s present in their lives as he is in ours. By recognizing Jesus’ Story in their lives, we can be more patient, merciful and compassionate, knowing his Story is unfolding in their lives.

Thirdly, we still play a very active role in Jesus’ Story in our lives. We’re not passively being carried along by the plot. While we may not be the main character, we do play an important supporting role. We are to cooperate with Jesus. In our supporting, cooperative roles, our thoughts, feelings, decisions and actions matter. They matter a lot because we don’t naturally cooperate with Jesus by default.

Jesus’ Story is about him unleashing an entirely new world order upon this broken creation. This new world order, God’s New Creation, requires entirely new ways of thinking, feeling, acting and relating. So Jesus’ Story in your life is about unleashing this new world order around you, in you and through you. But it requires you learning from and cooperating with him in order to become the living embodiment of this new world order.

Fourthly, anything that happens to us is actually part of Jesus’ Story unfolding in our lives. Even if the circumstance is not at all good, it is still incorporated and transformed into Jesus’ Story in your life. The accident or close-call, the failure or success, the unkind word or complement, the betrayal or support, the tragedy or good fortune — all of it is absorbed into the unique first-person perspective of Jesus’ Story in your life. And then through your cooperation with him in his Story, it becomes another substantial moment in Jesus’ narrative of your life.

So your life is a story. It’s just not your story. Nor are you the leading character. And that’s okay.

Recent conversations have rekindled my interest in Revelation. Back in 2005, I took a serious dive into this mysterious book and emerged with a very different understanding than what I held in my early Christian years. I was excited to discover that Revelation was immensely relevant to life and apprenticeship to Jesus.

(If you’re interested, I’ve consolidated the posts from my 2005 study into one document. You can get that document here: blog-posts-on-revelation-2005.)

Rereading my posts from that time has excited me about Revelation again. So I decided to do another series called Revelation: Revisited.

Where the original posts explored more of the details in Revelation, the goal in this series is simply to unpack some thoughts on Revelation. I’ll be upfront right now. I completely reject the futurist interpretation of Revelation made popular by dispensationalist theology. Except for the last two chapters, I don’t think Revelation is an outline of future events. Therefore, I do not believe in the Rapture, the Tribulation, the Millennium and all the other aspects of that interpretation.

I know this can be controversial for some. I apologize right now if I offend anyone. That’s not my intent. Nor is it my intent to engage in arguments nor to defend my stance. I simply want to unpack how I believe we should approach Revelation as well as its overall message for Christian discipleship.

Because of my different interpretation of Revelation, I’ve learned to avoid conversations about Revelation over the years. It’s tough answering questions like “Do you believe in a Pre-, Mid-, or Post-Tribulation Rapture?” when I don’t believe in the Rapture or the Tribulation. But saying that raises issues that are even more difficult to discuss in casual conversation. Conversations about Revelation always felt like a form of  “culture clash.”  I felt like a British citizen trying to discuss “football” with my American friends. We were using similar words, but discussing completely different games. And trying to explain the complexities and nuances of the game was too demanding.

But Revelation is too important for life to ignore. As I’ve come to understand its message and how its literary forms work to communicate its message, Revelation inspires me to follow Jesus in the here and now as much as the Gospels and other New Testament documents. So I hope this series will encourage others to revisit Revelation and experience the relevancy I’ve discovered in its pages.

BTW, a couple of books that have provided support in my original dive into Revelation in 2005 and in this series are:

• The Theology of the Book of Revelation by Richard Bauckham
• Revelation for Everyone by NT Wright

Both are short volumes. But don’t let their size fool you. They are explosive in their content.

When we read Jesus’ words about forgiveness, it becomes shockingly and frighteningly clear that God’s forgiveness to us and our forgiveness to others are linked. Simply put, my unwillingness to forgive others prevents God from forgiving me. Matthew 6:15 and Matthew 18:21-35 are two prime examples.

This is very confusing to those taught that God can and will forgive us for everything. Apparently, that’s not the case.

NT Wright says the following in a commentary on Matthew 18:21-35:

“Forgiveness is more like the air in your lungs. There’s only room for you to inhale the next lungful when you’ve just breathed out the previous one. If you insist on withholding it, refusing to give someone else the kiss of life they may desperately need, you won’t be able to take any more in yourself, and you will suffocate very quickly. Whatever the spiritual, moral and emotional equivalent of the lungs may be (we sometimes say ‘the heart’, but that of course is a metaphor as well), it’s either open or closed. If it’s open, able and willing to forgive others, it will also be open to receive God’s love and forgiveness. But if it’s locked up to the one, it will be locked up to the other.”

This makes complete sense from the “ontological” perspective I discussed in my last post. If you remember, death isn’t the consequence of sin, but the very definition of sin. In other words, sin isn’t the breach of a rule and then death its punishment. Rather, sin is severing communion with God who is true Being and thus the path toward non-being.

In this light, withholding forgiveness from others is not “bad behavior” punishable by God withholding his forgiveness from us, like some cosmic tit-for-tat. Instead, forgiveness is the very air we breathe in our communion with God, the consistent and automatic inhalation and exhalation of God’s Life and Being to us and through us.

The moment we hold our “breath” we suffocate ourselves. But the moment we breathe out, we are able to fill our lungs once again with the sweet life-giving air of God’s forgiveness.