My dear family and friends,
At the end of this letter, you’ll find the lyrics of John Newton’s hymn “I Asked the Lord.” I include them because their poetry and poignancy beautifully express my heart theme for 2011. As I processed the struggles of the past and the constant bumps of life in general, each day seemed to illuminate a different facet of the last verse: “These inward trials I employ from self and pride to set thee free and break thy schemes of earthly joy, that thou mayest seek thy all in Me.” Little by little, in the persistent, loving lessons of my faithful Father, the Great and Gentle Teacher, I am beginning to see the beauty of suffering –however it may look, whatever the severity may be.
Last year highlighted a deeper understanding of the first half of the stanza: suffering makes me more like Christ, setting me free of my deceptively deep pride and selfishness. Passages like Hebrews 12:3-11 and James 1:2-4 became personal realities. This year, the emphasis was, and continues to be, on the latter half, which can be summed up in one word: expectation.
The Lord knows that as much as I claim Christ as my all, as much as I declare him to be sufficient, I spend far too many of my moments expecting satisfaction from “earthly joys”: comfort, financial stability, vocational success, health, marriage, approval, fulfilled plans. The list goes on. And no item on the list is wrong or sinful in and of itself. Rather, they are all good things. But they are temporal. Vapor. And so, they aren’t the best thing. In the words of C.S. Lewis, I’m “like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because [I] cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. [I am] far too easily pleased.” But that’s just it –nearly all my attempts to make merry with these earth-bound mud pies have ended in disappointment. I have yet to discover any ultimate pleasure in those endeavors. And, again, the problem is not in health or marriage, or any other “earthly joy.” The problem is that such expectations run the great risk of quickly becoming obstructions in my vision of God and his Kingdom. They are constantly in competition for my affections. And when I place my highest affections on an earthly joy, God is no longer the object of my worship. The only One worthy of those affections is replaced by terribly inferior and ineffective substitutes.
While I learned all this years ago, only now have I come to realize that I actually set myself up for suffering when I expect to find satisfaction in someone or something other than God. In his great kindness, my Father must break those false hopes to reset my focus on him, the only unchanging Source of true and lasting joy.
I’m so grateful 2011 brought this deeper understanding of my own frailty. Even so, I know I cannot whip up a remedy to bring immediate and complete change. No, such change will only come by the grace of God as I continue to commit every moment and every day to dependence on the Holy Spirit, fervently asking that Paul’s words to the Corinthians would be proven in me, that I may genuinely say: “On him I have set my hope” (2 Cor 1:10). And I must pray for grace to rest fully on the profound truth of Proverbs 30:5, living in its promises.
As you move toward a new year, I pray you will see Ephesians 1:15-23 reflected by your life in ways far more abundant than anything you could ask or think. And if “the eyes of your heart” are not yet “enlightened”, I pray this will be the year you see Christ in all his beauty and glory and that it will bring you to your knees in genuine repentance and faith.
Joyfully pressing on by grace to hope entirely in him,
Cristi
2011 praises
-a January course in KY with a new favorite prof: Dr. Allison
-a North Carolinian holiday
-aunthood with Jack, Hallee, and Charlie
-a full summer of travels, classes, weddings, and lake trips
-a fruitful women’s spring study
-Antholz girls’ Denver trip to see Broadway’s Lion King
-The Prodigal God by Tim Keller
-music by Gungor
-a refreshing fall semester of teaching
-Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand
-“In Feast or Fallow” by Sandra McCracken
-Molten Chocolate Lava Cakes
-culinary experiments like butternut squash soup & borscht
2012 prayers
-a Thailand trip with my dear friend Leia to visit our dear friend Rachel
-aunthood with Jack, Hallee, Charlie, and Henry
-making blankets with Grandma Jan
-studying The Prodigal God with community ladies
-graduating from SBTS in May
-living out Philippians 1:27 more faithfully
-a new season of teaching, more saturated in the Father’s wisdom and love than ever before
-continued explorations on the piano and in the kitchen
-more game nights with family and friends
-a life marked by steadfast prayer
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The Chimes of Normandy: A Heartfelt Thank You from the Great Depression
I found Ernestine Guerrero’s poignant story in the introduction of Robert Cohen’s Dear Mrs. Roosevelt: Letters from Children of the Great Depression. The discovery was like uncovering a long-lost treasure in the attic –one of those nostalgic mementos from childhood that remind you of all that is innocent and lovely and good. And like a first-grade poem or junior high medal, Guerrero’s story doesn’t really hold great significance in the grand scheme of history. But the character behind it is admirable, indeed, and worth sharing. The humility with which this poor girl gave only makes the gift that much sweeter -and, you can be sure, what she lacked in material resources she made up in diligent excellence.
This is the story of how young Ernestine Guerrero used something crude and ugly, a testament of the grim days in which she lived, to build something intricate and beautiful, a testament of the integrity by which she lived:
This is the story of how young Ernestine Guerrero used something crude and ugly, a testament of the grim days in which she lived, to build something intricate and beautiful, a testament of the integrity by which she lived:
Ernestine Guerrero, the daughter of an unemployed carpenter, came of age in San Antonio, Texas, during the Great Depression. She was not one of the movers and shakers of American history, but merely one of millions of youths who grew up poor during the nation's worst economic crisis. It is not surprising, then, that Guerrero's name fails to appear in history books on the Great Depression, the New Deal, and Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. Although historians have taken no notice of Guerrero, a piece of her historical experience has been preserved by the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library and Museum in Hyde Park, New York. On display is Guerrero's large wooden sculpture of a clock case, "The Chimes of Normandy," and the letter she sent along with it to President Roosevelt in 1937. The sculpture, which Guerrero began working upon during her late teens, consists of 156 pieces and reflects long and skillful wood-carving work. Guerrero's letter to the president explained that it took her a year of working with a coping saw to develop her carving skills sufficiently to begin shaping the clock case and another year to complete this fret work sculpture. But it is less the craftsmanship of the sculpture than Guerrero's circumstances, materials, and motivations that make so memorable her decision to work on it and send it to the president. She offered this gift to FDR in gratitude for the assistance that New Deal dollars had provided to her impoverished family. Guerrero had gathered the materials for her sculpture from the wooden boxes in which her family's food relief had come during the hardest times of the Depression. She wrote to FDR that her sculpture was the outcome of her desire to show her appreciation by creating "something pretty" to give him "out of those boxes" of federal food aid, which had meant so much to her and her family. "This is the best I have ever done in my life," Guerrero wrote. "I know that you have many pretty things, but please accept and keep this piece of work from a poor girl that doesn't have anything, also to show you how much we admire you . . . as a man of great ideals and a big heart towards humanity."
"The Chimes of Normandy" and Guerrero's letter to the president attest that impoverished young people in Depression America could be eloquent and even artistic in expressing their response to the crisis of their times. They suggest that youth was no barrier to serious concern and thought about the economic crisis, poverty, and the New Deal's expansion of federal aid to the needy—and that one might learn much about the meaning of the Depression by listening to the voices of its young victims. The problem, of course, is how to get at those voices which have now faded in the more than half a century that has passed since the Great Depression ended. (Cohen, 3-5)
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Humanity of Christ
The humanity of Jesus is evident in his physical body, mind, and emotions. Scripture describes him as being thoroughly human, and the perspective of those who encountered or spent time with him throughout his entire life further adds to the case.
The physical body of Jesus can be examined in his birth, development, and daily life. Jesus was born into this world as every other human is (Luke 2:6-7). The innkeeper saw a pregnant Mary come to his stable. The shepherds saw an un-pregnant Mary with an infant (Luke 2:16). In fact, the sign the angel gave to them was a swaddled baby in a manger, not a human-appearing baby god (Luke 2:12). Eight days after Jesus was born, Simeon held him and blessed him (Luke 2:28-32). When he was no more than two years old, the wise men also saw him and worshiped (Matt 3:11). In all of this, there are no accounts of a suspiciously divine aura around the baby, regardless of such depictions painted during the Renaissance. There is no reason to believe that those who saw and knew Jesus in his early years saw, in his physicality, anything but an ordinary baby –ten fingers, ten toes, messy diapers, snotty nose, and all.
The humanity of Jesus continued in the way he grew and developed like all humans. Luke acknowledges this in reference to the period of time from birth to age twelve, and again from age twelve to adulthood (Luke 2:40, 52). Sandwiched in between these two verses is the narrative of Christ teaching in the temple as a boy. Here is another account of the ordinary perspective people had of Jesus. His own parents are astonished at his teaching in the temple and they do not understand his reference to do his Father’s work (Luke 2:48-49). This dynamic seems inconsistent with the Doc.Etism view that Jesus was not really human. If he was only deity in the appearance of humanity, his parents would surely recognize a difference between him and their other children. With such a distinction in mind, especially in conjunction with the angelic prophecies made of him and his conception itself, surely doing his Father’s work by teaching in the temple would be no great shock. Instead, the very presence of Joseph and Mary’s surprise appears to argue the point that Christ was quite human.
Jesus’s entire earthly existence was marked by his humanity. After he fasted in the wilderness, he experienced the very fleshly insight of hunger (Matt 4:2). He was acquainted with the weariness of travel, evidenced by his rest by the well in Samaria (John 4:6). He also took naps and sought solitude to rest (Mark 4:38; Matt 14:22-23). In his last days, the limitation of his strength is displayed in his inability to carry his cross (Luke 23:26). And on the cross, Jesus was thirsty (John 19:28). Ultimately, Christ’s physical humanity was shown by his death (Luke 23:46). Blood and water are released when the soldier pierces his side (Luke 19:34).
Jesus had a human mind. Just as his body went through the normal stages of physical development, so also his mind went through the normal stages of cognitive development. Luke writes that he “increased in wisdom” (Luke 2:52). The author of Hebrews conveys Christ’s growth in obedience (Heb 5:8-9). The human limitation of his mind while on earth is further shown in his lack of knowledge about the day of his second coming (Mark 13:32). If he only appeared to be human, his divine omniscience would surely not be restricted.
The emotion of Jesus also displays his humanity. His heart is often described by his interactions with people. Jesus had many relationships –from acquaintance to intimate friend. He loved Lazarus and mourned his death (John 11:3, 35). He was also grieved by the heartache of those mourning for Lazarus (John 11:33). Christ’s beloved disciple and closest friend was John (John 13:23). And Jesus loved the rich young ruler in what is, presumably, the first time they meet (Mark 10:21). Similarly, he had compassion on the harassed, helpless, and hungry crowds he encountered as he traveled (Matt 9:36, 14:14, 15:32). Jesus was both grieved and angered by hard hearts in the synagogue (Mark 3:5). And he was indignant with the disciples when they rebuke the children (Mark 10:14). The faith of the centurion caused him to marvel, as well as the unbelief of his hometown (Luke 7:9; Mark 6:6). He declared his distress over his unaccomplished task of judgment (Luke 12:50). Jesus spoke truth for his joy and for the joy of others’ (John 15:11, 17:13). He was deeply troubled when prayed at Gethsemane before his death (Matt 27:37). But the author of Hebrews explains that the joy of the future fruits of his affliction help him endure the cross (Heb 12:2).
As previously discussed in Jesus’s birth and development, those who knew him did not recognize anything extraordinary about his human life. Later in his life his neighbors joined the club. Though his ministry in Galilee included great healing and popularity, the community of Nazareth did not accept him. Rather, the Evangelist writes of their rapid-fire inquiry, which speaks volumes of their perception of his ordinariness. They marveled at his wisdom and works. Their brains could not move past his modest woodworking background. They knew his earthly, human mother. They knew his earthly, human brothers and sisters. All they knew about his first thirty years plus all they saw in his adult ministry did not add up. John writes that his brothers did not even recognize his deity during his life and ministry (John 7:5).
In addition to the Gospel accounts of Jesus’s humanity, the later epistles also attest to this doctrine. Paul tells Timothy that Jesus was manifested in the flesh (1 Tim 3:16). John speaks of Christ as the Word become flesh, dwelling among them (John 1:14). And he begins his first epistle by stating that Jesus Christ was heard, seen, and touched –all very human attributes (1 John 1:1). Later in the epistle he re-affirms Christ’s humanity but telling his readers the mark of the Spirit is the confession of Christ come in the flesh (1 John 4:2-3). All biblical accounts of Jesus’s life display that he was fully God and fully man. Indubitably.
The physical body of Jesus can be examined in his birth, development, and daily life. Jesus was born into this world as every other human is (Luke 2:6-7). The innkeeper saw a pregnant Mary come to his stable. The shepherds saw an un-pregnant Mary with an infant (Luke 2:16). In fact, the sign the angel gave to them was a swaddled baby in a manger, not a human-appearing baby god (Luke 2:12). Eight days after Jesus was born, Simeon held him and blessed him (Luke 2:28-32). When he was no more than two years old, the wise men also saw him and worshiped (Matt 3:11). In all of this, there are no accounts of a suspiciously divine aura around the baby, regardless of such depictions painted during the Renaissance. There is no reason to believe that those who saw and knew Jesus in his early years saw, in his physicality, anything but an ordinary baby –ten fingers, ten toes, messy diapers, snotty nose, and all.
The humanity of Jesus continued in the way he grew and developed like all humans. Luke acknowledges this in reference to the period of time from birth to age twelve, and again from age twelve to adulthood (Luke 2:40, 52). Sandwiched in between these two verses is the narrative of Christ teaching in the temple as a boy. Here is another account of the ordinary perspective people had of Jesus. His own parents are astonished at his teaching in the temple and they do not understand his reference to do his Father’s work (Luke 2:48-49). This dynamic seems inconsistent with the Doc.Etism view that Jesus was not really human. If he was only deity in the appearance of humanity, his parents would surely recognize a difference between him and their other children. With such a distinction in mind, especially in conjunction with the angelic prophecies made of him and his conception itself, surely doing his Father’s work by teaching in the temple would be no great shock. Instead, the very presence of Joseph and Mary’s surprise appears to argue the point that Christ was quite human.
Jesus’s entire earthly existence was marked by his humanity. After he fasted in the wilderness, he experienced the very fleshly insight of hunger (Matt 4:2). He was acquainted with the weariness of travel, evidenced by his rest by the well in Samaria (John 4:6). He also took naps and sought solitude to rest (Mark 4:38; Matt 14:22-23). In his last days, the limitation of his strength is displayed in his inability to carry his cross (Luke 23:26). And on the cross, Jesus was thirsty (John 19:28). Ultimately, Christ’s physical humanity was shown by his death (Luke 23:46). Blood and water are released when the soldier pierces his side (Luke 19:34).
Jesus had a human mind. Just as his body went through the normal stages of physical development, so also his mind went through the normal stages of cognitive development. Luke writes that he “increased in wisdom” (Luke 2:52). The author of Hebrews conveys Christ’s growth in obedience (Heb 5:8-9). The human limitation of his mind while on earth is further shown in his lack of knowledge about the day of his second coming (Mark 13:32). If he only appeared to be human, his divine omniscience would surely not be restricted.
The emotion of Jesus also displays his humanity. His heart is often described by his interactions with people. Jesus had many relationships –from acquaintance to intimate friend. He loved Lazarus and mourned his death (John 11:3, 35). He was also grieved by the heartache of those mourning for Lazarus (John 11:33). Christ’s beloved disciple and closest friend was John (John 13:23). And Jesus loved the rich young ruler in what is, presumably, the first time they meet (Mark 10:21). Similarly, he had compassion on the harassed, helpless, and hungry crowds he encountered as he traveled (Matt 9:36, 14:14, 15:32). Jesus was both grieved and angered by hard hearts in the synagogue (Mark 3:5). And he was indignant with the disciples when they rebuke the children (Mark 10:14). The faith of the centurion caused him to marvel, as well as the unbelief of his hometown (Luke 7:9; Mark 6:6). He declared his distress over his unaccomplished task of judgment (Luke 12:50). Jesus spoke truth for his joy and for the joy of others’ (John 15:11, 17:13). He was deeply troubled when prayed at Gethsemane before his death (Matt 27:37). But the author of Hebrews explains that the joy of the future fruits of his affliction help him endure the cross (Heb 12:2).
As previously discussed in Jesus’s birth and development, those who knew him did not recognize anything extraordinary about his human life. Later in his life his neighbors joined the club. Though his ministry in Galilee included great healing and popularity, the community of Nazareth did not accept him. Rather, the Evangelist writes of their rapid-fire inquiry, which speaks volumes of their perception of his ordinariness. They marveled at his wisdom and works. Their brains could not move past his modest woodworking background. They knew his earthly, human mother. They knew his earthly, human brothers and sisters. All they knew about his first thirty years plus all they saw in his adult ministry did not add up. John writes that his brothers did not even recognize his deity during his life and ministry (John 7:5).
In addition to the Gospel accounts of Jesus’s humanity, the later epistles also attest to this doctrine. Paul tells Timothy that Jesus was manifested in the flesh (1 Tim 3:16). John speaks of Christ as the Word become flesh, dwelling among them (John 1:14). And he begins his first epistle by stating that Jesus Christ was heard, seen, and touched –all very human attributes (1 John 1:1). Later in the epistle he re-affirms Christ’s humanity but telling his readers the mark of the Spirit is the confession of Christ come in the flesh (1 John 4:2-3). All biblical accounts of Jesus’s life display that he was fully God and fully man. Indubitably.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Deity of Christ
The deity of God is evident in Jesus’s words about himself. He tells a crowd of Jews that he existed before Abraham (John 8:58). Not only that, but he used the exact terminology God gave of himself to Moses (Exod 3:14). The original hearers and readers would recognize this as a clear claim to deity. Later in the Gospel, John records Jesus proclaiming that he is one with the Father (John 10:30). So either Jesus is crazy, he is lying, or he really is who he says he is: God. Only one of those options allows him to remain “the supreme creature of the universe.” But that option contradicts the assumption that he is not divine.
Other biblical authors speak of the eternality of Christ, his pre-existence. John 1:1 distinguishes Jesus as the Word, in relationship with God and also God himself. Later in the chapter, the Evangelist writes of incarnation of the Word (John 1:14). In Paul’s Christological treatise at the beginning of his letter to the church at Colossae, he affirms Christ’s existence when the world was created and, beyond that, his agency in the creative process (Col 1:15-17). To the Philippians, he writes how Christ humbled himself by refusing to take advantage of his divinity and coming to the earth as a man (Phil 2:5-7). Pre-existence necessitates deity. So these two key apostles of the Early Church would both be flat deceived or deceitful if Jesus was not, in fact, God.
Additionally, John and the other Evangelists record Jesus in connection with the phrase “Son of God.” In Matthew, Jesus is accused before Caiaphas of making the claim to be the Son of God. His response does not explicitly affirm it, but the message is implied enough that the high priest is angered at his alleged blasphemy (Matt 26:63-65). When questioned by Mary after she and Joseph leave Jesus behind in Jerusalem, he tells them that he is doing his Father’s business (Luke 2:41-49). In Mark’s account of Christ’s baptism, a voice from heaven, presumably God’s, declares his pleasure of his beloved Son (Mark 1:9-11). In John’s Gospel, in one of the most oft-quoted verses of the Bible, Jesus is declared to be God’s only Son (John 3:16).
The term God, in and of itself, is also used of Jesus. In Paul’s discussion on God’s sovereign choice, he identifies the Israelites as the family of Christ, who he identifies as “God over all” (Rom 9:1-5). Paul also refers to Jesus as God in his letter to Titus as he discusses the hope of our Savior’s second coming (Titus 2:13). In Hebrews, God speaks of his Son as God with the words of a royal psalm (Heb 1:8). Peter distinguishes the readers of his second epistle as those found in the righteousness of “God and Jesus Christ” (2 Pet 1:1). Once again, these writers must be nuts or habitual liars if Christ is not God.
There are also biblical references to Jesus as Lord. Frequently in the New Testament, the authors quote Old Testament texts which use LORD, Yahweh, and apply those passages to Jesus. One example of this is Acts 2:36. In Peter’s sermon at Pentecost, he quotes from Joel 2:32, connecting Jesus as Savior with the prophet’s declaration that salvation is found in the name of the Lord (Acts 1:21). Later in the same sermon, he cites David in Psalms 110:1 then uses the verse to accuse his crowd of crucifying the “Lord and Christ.” Mark introduces John the Baptist with Isaiah 40:3, identifying him as the one who will prepare the way for the Lord, Jesus Christ (Mark 1:2-3). When Jesus shows Thomas his hands and side, the disciple cries out with an affirmation of Christ as both Lord and God (John 20:28).
Other passages in which Lord is used of Jesus, though not from an Old Testament quote, including Luke 2:11. Here the angel uses the term in his angelic birth announcement to the shepherds. Earlier in the birth narrative, Elizabeth is humbled to have Mary visit, declaring she is the mother of her Lord (Luke 1:43). The Pauline Epistles are saturated with references of Jesus as Lord. The Corinthians read it in his affirmation of Christ as the sustainer of all (1 Cor 8:6). In fact, the English Standard Version (ESV) translates Lord as Jesus fifteen times in the book of Romans and fifteen times in 1 Corinthians. The grand total for Paul’s letters, as translated by the ESV, is a whopping 90 uses. So Paul is clearly bonkers, and a woman and an angel must be added to the crazy liars list with him if Jesus is not truly the divine Lord.
Not only is Jesus spoken of as God, but his actions and attributes also commend him as such. He speaks of his omnipresence in his discourse on discipline and also the Great Commission (Matt 18:20, 28:20). Jesus’s ability to give the Great Commission in the first place comes from his universal authority (Matt 28:18). And, as previously mentioned, Paul describes his eternality in Colossians 1. Christ’s omniscience is seen in his knowledge of men’s thoughts, his betrayer’s identity, and his death (Matt 26:25, 34; Luke 6:8; 9:47; John 2:25; 4:18; 11:14; 16:30; 18:4; 21:17). Again, John and Paul write of Jesus as Creator and Sustainer of the world (John 1:3; Col 1:16, 17). Christ also takes the role as the Judge of man (Matt 25:31-32; John 5:22, 27; Acts 10:42; 17:31). He extends forgiveness of sins, an act the first-century Jews attributed to God alone, and offers eternal life (Mark 2:10; Luke 5:17-26; John 5:21, 10:28). The acceptance of worship and command to baptize in the name of Jesus are other acts reserved for deity (Matt 28:19; Acts 2:38; John 9:38). Either Jesus was God, or there are a great many biblical authors, writing at different places and times, who fabricated the same story about a mere man, who happens to be the supreme creature of the universe.
There are some who would offer certain Scriptural texts as contradictions to the deity of Christ (Mark 10:17-18, 13:32; John 14:28). However, a closer look at the individual contexts of these passages, and at the Bible as a whole, would reveal that these passages cannot legitimately be taken as incongruity. In the first, Christ is not contrasting himself with God at all, but challenging the ruler to consider if he realizes the full implications of his statement. The second text does not show Christ’s ignorance but his humanity. The final verse refers to either the Son’s eternal subjection to the Father or his humiliated, incarnate state before returning to the right hand of God; but neither option actually separates Father and Son by divine nature. Ultimately, Scripture leaves no room for doubt on the matter of Christ’s deity. To question it is to disregard the Bible altogether –Old Testament prophecies and New Testament fulfillment.
Other biblical authors speak of the eternality of Christ, his pre-existence. John 1:1 distinguishes Jesus as the Word, in relationship with God and also God himself. Later in the chapter, the Evangelist writes of incarnation of the Word (John 1:14). In Paul’s Christological treatise at the beginning of his letter to the church at Colossae, he affirms Christ’s existence when the world was created and, beyond that, his agency in the creative process (Col 1:15-17). To the Philippians, he writes how Christ humbled himself by refusing to take advantage of his divinity and coming to the earth as a man (Phil 2:5-7). Pre-existence necessitates deity. So these two key apostles of the Early Church would both be flat deceived or deceitful if Jesus was not, in fact, God.
Additionally, John and the other Evangelists record Jesus in connection with the phrase “Son of God.” In Matthew, Jesus is accused before Caiaphas of making the claim to be the Son of God. His response does not explicitly affirm it, but the message is implied enough that the high priest is angered at his alleged blasphemy (Matt 26:63-65). When questioned by Mary after she and Joseph leave Jesus behind in Jerusalem, he tells them that he is doing his Father’s business (Luke 2:41-49). In Mark’s account of Christ’s baptism, a voice from heaven, presumably God’s, declares his pleasure of his beloved Son (Mark 1:9-11). In John’s Gospel, in one of the most oft-quoted verses of the Bible, Jesus is declared to be God’s only Son (John 3:16).
The term God, in and of itself, is also used of Jesus. In Paul’s discussion on God’s sovereign choice, he identifies the Israelites as the family of Christ, who he identifies as “God over all” (Rom 9:1-5). Paul also refers to Jesus as God in his letter to Titus as he discusses the hope of our Savior’s second coming (Titus 2:13). In Hebrews, God speaks of his Son as God with the words of a royal psalm (Heb 1:8). Peter distinguishes the readers of his second epistle as those found in the righteousness of “God and Jesus Christ” (2 Pet 1:1). Once again, these writers must be nuts or habitual liars if Christ is not God.
There are also biblical references to Jesus as Lord. Frequently in the New Testament, the authors quote Old Testament texts which use LORD, Yahweh, and apply those passages to Jesus. One example of this is Acts 2:36. In Peter’s sermon at Pentecost, he quotes from Joel 2:32, connecting Jesus as Savior with the prophet’s declaration that salvation is found in the name of the Lord (Acts 1:21). Later in the same sermon, he cites David in Psalms 110:1 then uses the verse to accuse his crowd of crucifying the “Lord and Christ.” Mark introduces John the Baptist with Isaiah 40:3, identifying him as the one who will prepare the way for the Lord, Jesus Christ (Mark 1:2-3). When Jesus shows Thomas his hands and side, the disciple cries out with an affirmation of Christ as both Lord and God (John 20:28).
Other passages in which Lord is used of Jesus, though not from an Old Testament quote, including Luke 2:11. Here the angel uses the term in his angelic birth announcement to the shepherds. Earlier in the birth narrative, Elizabeth is humbled to have Mary visit, declaring she is the mother of her Lord (Luke 1:43). The Pauline Epistles are saturated with references of Jesus as Lord. The Corinthians read it in his affirmation of Christ as the sustainer of all (1 Cor 8:6). In fact, the English Standard Version (ESV) translates Lord as Jesus fifteen times in the book of Romans and fifteen times in 1 Corinthians. The grand total for Paul’s letters, as translated by the ESV, is a whopping 90 uses. So Paul is clearly bonkers, and a woman and an angel must be added to the crazy liars list with him if Jesus is not truly the divine Lord.
Not only is Jesus spoken of as God, but his actions and attributes also commend him as such. He speaks of his omnipresence in his discourse on discipline and also the Great Commission (Matt 18:20, 28:20). Jesus’s ability to give the Great Commission in the first place comes from his universal authority (Matt 28:18). And, as previously mentioned, Paul describes his eternality in Colossians 1. Christ’s omniscience is seen in his knowledge of men’s thoughts, his betrayer’s identity, and his death (Matt 26:25, 34; Luke 6:8; 9:47; John 2:25; 4:18; 11:14; 16:30; 18:4; 21:17). Again, John and Paul write of Jesus as Creator and Sustainer of the world (John 1:3; Col 1:16, 17). Christ also takes the role as the Judge of man (Matt 25:31-32; John 5:22, 27; Acts 10:42; 17:31). He extends forgiveness of sins, an act the first-century Jews attributed to God alone, and offers eternal life (Mark 2:10; Luke 5:17-26; John 5:21, 10:28). The acceptance of worship and command to baptize in the name of Jesus are other acts reserved for deity (Matt 28:19; Acts 2:38; John 9:38). Either Jesus was God, or there are a great many biblical authors, writing at different places and times, who fabricated the same story about a mere man, who happens to be the supreme creature of the universe.
There are some who would offer certain Scriptural texts as contradictions to the deity of Christ (Mark 10:17-18, 13:32; John 14:28). However, a closer look at the individual contexts of these passages, and at the Bible as a whole, would reveal that these passages cannot legitimately be taken as incongruity. In the first, Christ is not contrasting himself with God at all, but challenging the ruler to consider if he realizes the full implications of his statement. The second text does not show Christ’s ignorance but his humanity. The final verse refers to either the Son’s eternal subjection to the Father or his humiliated, incarnate state before returning to the right hand of God; but neither option actually separates Father and Son by divine nature. Ultimately, Scripture leaves no room for doubt on the matter of Christ’s deity. To question it is to disregard the Bible altogether –Old Testament prophecies and New Testament fulfillment.
Friday, January 28, 2011
On Divine Providence
Scripture is replete with passages about God’s sovereignty. In fact, the resoluteness of his ordained purpose is a major undertone of the biblical narrative, redemptive history. Yet, the Bible simultaneously affirms the responsibility of human choice, and the dynamic of man acting and God holding him to account is also a recurring theme. Paul articulates this synergy in his exhortation to the church at Philippi in Philippians 2:12b-13. In his mind, there is obviously no contradiction between the sovereignty of God and the responsibility of man. The following compendia offer the biblical support for the sovereign control of the Lord –even over evil, the culpability of man, and the harmony of both.
The steadfast purpose of the Lord pervades Holy Writ, from Genesis to Revelation. His will cannot be thwarted. God preserves, cooperates, and governs for his glory (Col 1:16-17, Job 37:5-13, Eph 1:11, respectively). The humbled Nebuchadnezzar proclaims this truth in Daniel 4:35. Isaiah writes of God’s foreknowledge and foreordination of all that will come to pass (Is 14:24-27, 37:26, 41:22-23, 46:9-11). And, to reverse the consideration, every event aligns to God’s designed plan (Ps 139:16, Prov 16:4, 33, 19:21, Jer 10:23, Rom 8:28). The church at Ephesus reads that their spiritual inheritance is founded in God’s sovereignty (Eph 1:11). And the Lord controls specific aspects of life. This is seen in inanimate creation (Job 37:6-13, 38:32; Ps 104:14, 135:7, 148:8; Matt 5:45) and his rule over the animals (Ps 104:27-29; Matt 6:26, 10:29). The matters of nations and rulers are ordained by the Lord (Ezra 1:1, 6:22; Job 12:23; Ps 22:28; Prov 21:1; Dan 4:34-35; Acts 17:26). And the events of man’s days are formed even before his conception (Job 14:5; Ps 139:16; Jer 1:5; Gal 1:15). God directs man’s talents and abilities (Ps 18:34; 1 Cor 4:7) and even those occurrences which appear to be random (Prov 16:33).
Under the umbrella of these categories is the place of evil. Many stumble at the question of God’s sovereign control over the injury, calamity, and suffering left by the wake of the Fall. Logically, either he is not sovereign and does not cause evil, or he is not good and does cause evil. Biblically, both explanations are wrong. God is holy and does not sin (Lev 19:2). And God is also omniscient and omnipotent (Heb 4:13, 2 Chron, 20:6). Evil does not surprise him, nor is he powerless to stop it. God has control over good and evil (Isa 45:7). The salvific stories of Joseph and Jesus attest to God’s orchestration over the means of evil to accomplish his glorifying ends of good (Gen 41-50, Matt 26-28, cf. Mark 14-16, Luke 22-24, John 18-20). Bruce Ware calls this control asymmetrical in that God’s relations to good is “direct and immediate” because he is good (Ware, 102). On the other hand, his control of evil is indirect and permissive because, again, evil is antithetical to his holy nature. God’s allowance of evil is, in each instance, founded in his divine wisdom and goodness for the purpose of his glory.
In the good and the evil, man is responsible; and this doctrine is also seen in Scripture, from the beginning. Clearly God does not view himself as a mere deterministic puppet master, running the lives of men by strings, because he prohibited Adam and Eve from eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Gen 2:17). Were he to control their lives by acting for them, he would have no need to give them rules. The practice is antithetical. No one tells a plane passenger the rules of aviation. Most people never give a second’s thought to the stipulations necessary for the flight they board. The pilot needs and knows the rules because he controls the plane. If God controls humans in that immediate sense, rules are a moot point. People are just passengers. But he does give rules to man, so in some sense, to some degree, man must be able to choose right or wrong. And when he chooses the latter, he is held responsible for that decision. The Ten Commandments, and every other decree, exhortation, or entreatment, to the nation of Israel, the early Church, and even pagans, speaks volumes for this case.
The question, of course, is how God’s sovereignty and man’s culpable choice harmonize. God’s orchestration of every aspect of Joseph’s journey to Egypt is very evident. He intricately weaves both good and evil to accomplish his purposes in and through Joseph. The evil includes his brothers’ murderous thoughts and betrayal, the lust and lies of Potiphar’s wife, imprisonment, and the forgetfulness of the cupbearer. The good comes in the forms of Joseph’s dreams, Reuben’s protections, Potiphar’s initial favor, the prison keeper’s favor, his prison cellmates’ dreams, Pharoah’s dreams, Pharoah’s favor, and Joseph’s success under Pharoah. It may be asked how can God’s control over these events can be certain. Joseph attributes the interpretations of dreams to God (Gen 41:16), as well as the seasons of prosperity and famine (Gen 41:28, 32). He tells his brothers that it was not them who sent him to Egypt but God (Gen 45:5-8). But each situation, each person, was choosing to make the action he wanted to make. Joseph’s brothers were only thinking of their desire to get rid of Joseph when they sold him to the Ishmaelite caravan. They acted on those desires. They intended to harm Joseph, but God intended it for good to accomplish his purposes (Gen 50:20). And yet the brothers were responsible for their actions, and they knew it (Gen 50:15-21). God’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart (Exod 7-11) and control of Assyria (Isa 10) to exact his purposes on Israel are other biblical accounts of his hand over the good and evil actions of humans, while they remain responsible. Peter also clearly believes in this cohesion between sovereignty and human will when he accuses the Jews of killing Jesus (Acts 2:22-23). The Bible declares God’s exhaustive and meticulous sovereignty over every aspect of life. Even so, humans are free to do what their hearts desire most; thus, they remain fully responsible for their decisions.
The steadfast purpose of the Lord pervades Holy Writ, from Genesis to Revelation. His will cannot be thwarted. God preserves, cooperates, and governs for his glory (Col 1:16-17, Job 37:5-13, Eph 1:11, respectively). The humbled Nebuchadnezzar proclaims this truth in Daniel 4:35. Isaiah writes of God’s foreknowledge and foreordination of all that will come to pass (Is 14:24-27, 37:26, 41:22-23, 46:9-11). And, to reverse the consideration, every event aligns to God’s designed plan (Ps 139:16, Prov 16:4, 33, 19:21, Jer 10:23, Rom 8:28). The church at Ephesus reads that their spiritual inheritance is founded in God’s sovereignty (Eph 1:11). And the Lord controls specific aspects of life. This is seen in inanimate creation (Job 37:6-13, 38:32; Ps 104:14, 135:7, 148:8; Matt 5:45) and his rule over the animals (Ps 104:27-29; Matt 6:26, 10:29). The matters of nations and rulers are ordained by the Lord (Ezra 1:1, 6:22; Job 12:23; Ps 22:28; Prov 21:1; Dan 4:34-35; Acts 17:26). And the events of man’s days are formed even before his conception (Job 14:5; Ps 139:16; Jer 1:5; Gal 1:15). God directs man’s talents and abilities (Ps 18:34; 1 Cor 4:7) and even those occurrences which appear to be random (Prov 16:33).
Under the umbrella of these categories is the place of evil. Many stumble at the question of God’s sovereign control over the injury, calamity, and suffering left by the wake of the Fall. Logically, either he is not sovereign and does not cause evil, or he is not good and does cause evil. Biblically, both explanations are wrong. God is holy and does not sin (Lev 19:2). And God is also omniscient and omnipotent (Heb 4:13, 2 Chron, 20:6). Evil does not surprise him, nor is he powerless to stop it. God has control over good and evil (Isa 45:7). The salvific stories of Joseph and Jesus attest to God’s orchestration over the means of evil to accomplish his glorifying ends of good (Gen 41-50, Matt 26-28, cf. Mark 14-16, Luke 22-24, John 18-20). Bruce Ware calls this control asymmetrical in that God’s relations to good is “direct and immediate” because he is good (Ware, 102). On the other hand, his control of evil is indirect and permissive because, again, evil is antithetical to his holy nature. God’s allowance of evil is, in each instance, founded in his divine wisdom and goodness for the purpose of his glory.
In the good and the evil, man is responsible; and this doctrine is also seen in Scripture, from the beginning. Clearly God does not view himself as a mere deterministic puppet master, running the lives of men by strings, because he prohibited Adam and Eve from eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Gen 2:17). Were he to control their lives by acting for them, he would have no need to give them rules. The practice is antithetical. No one tells a plane passenger the rules of aviation. Most people never give a second’s thought to the stipulations necessary for the flight they board. The pilot needs and knows the rules because he controls the plane. If God controls humans in that immediate sense, rules are a moot point. People are just passengers. But he does give rules to man, so in some sense, to some degree, man must be able to choose right or wrong. And when he chooses the latter, he is held responsible for that decision. The Ten Commandments, and every other decree, exhortation, or entreatment, to the nation of Israel, the early Church, and even pagans, speaks volumes for this case.
The question, of course, is how God’s sovereignty and man’s culpable choice harmonize. God’s orchestration of every aspect of Joseph’s journey to Egypt is very evident. He intricately weaves both good and evil to accomplish his purposes in and through Joseph. The evil includes his brothers’ murderous thoughts and betrayal, the lust and lies of Potiphar’s wife, imprisonment, and the forgetfulness of the cupbearer. The good comes in the forms of Joseph’s dreams, Reuben’s protections, Potiphar’s initial favor, the prison keeper’s favor, his prison cellmates’ dreams, Pharoah’s dreams, Pharoah’s favor, and Joseph’s success under Pharoah. It may be asked how can God’s control over these events can be certain. Joseph attributes the interpretations of dreams to God (Gen 41:16), as well as the seasons of prosperity and famine (Gen 41:28, 32). He tells his brothers that it was not them who sent him to Egypt but God (Gen 45:5-8). But each situation, each person, was choosing to make the action he wanted to make. Joseph’s brothers were only thinking of their desire to get rid of Joseph when they sold him to the Ishmaelite caravan. They acted on those desires. They intended to harm Joseph, but God intended it for good to accomplish his purposes (Gen 50:20). And yet the brothers were responsible for their actions, and they knew it (Gen 50:15-21). God’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart (Exod 7-11) and control of Assyria (Isa 10) to exact his purposes on Israel are other biblical accounts of his hand over the good and evil actions of humans, while they remain responsible. Peter also clearly believes in this cohesion between sovereignty and human will when he accuses the Jews of killing Jesus (Acts 2:22-23). The Bible declares God’s exhaustive and meticulous sovereignty over every aspect of life. Even so, humans are free to do what their hearts desire most; thus, they remain fully responsible for their decisions.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
On Creation
I'm in the process of writing a paper on several of my doctrinal beliefs for my systematic theology class. I thought I would post excerpts as I complete them. Here's the first...
In Genesis 1, the beginning of time and the existence of the world is defined as God’s creation, ex nihilo, out of nothing. By his act of speech, light appeared, sky materialized, land formed, plants grew, animals walked, fish swam, and man lived. There was no matter prior to this creative Word. The psalmist proclaims this truth in Psalm 33:6, 9. The Evangelist declares it in John 1:3. The apostle affirms it in Colossians 1:16. And the authors of Acts and Hebrews also bear witness to its veracity (Acts 4:24, 14:15; Heb 11:3).
Never, in the entirety of Scripture, is the doctrine of God as Creator questioned or contradicted. Rather, this belief is maintained as a critical tenet of the faith of Yahweh’s chosen people, pervading both Old and New Testaments. In a whirlwind of majestic rhetoric, God questions Job’s knowledge by emphasizing his absence when he brought the earth into existence (Job 38-39). Moses establishes God as his refuge because the Almighty existed even before he created the earth (Ps 90:2). Wisdom speaks of her presence with the Lord “before the beginning of the earth” and while he was creating it (Prov 8:22-31). Through Isaiah, God asks Israel how they can doubt his knowledge of their ways by reminding them that he is Creator (Is 40:27-28). Jesus speaks of “the abomination of desolation” as being more difficult than any other period since God created the world (Mark 13:19). The divine creation of the world is also used to argue the preeminence of Christ (Col 1:15-20). Finally, the song of the twenty-four elders sets the worthiness of God in his creation of all things (Rev 4:11).
In Genesis 1, the beginning of time and the existence of the world is defined as God’s creation, ex nihilo, out of nothing. By his act of speech, light appeared, sky materialized, land formed, plants grew, animals walked, fish swam, and man lived. There was no matter prior to this creative Word. The psalmist proclaims this truth in Psalm 33:6, 9. The Evangelist declares it in John 1:3. The apostle affirms it in Colossians 1:16. And the authors of Acts and Hebrews also bear witness to its veracity (Acts 4:24, 14:15; Heb 11:3).
Never, in the entirety of Scripture, is the doctrine of God as Creator questioned or contradicted. Rather, this belief is maintained as a critical tenet of the faith of Yahweh’s chosen people, pervading both Old and New Testaments. In a whirlwind of majestic rhetoric, God questions Job’s knowledge by emphasizing his absence when he brought the earth into existence (Job 38-39). Moses establishes God as his refuge because the Almighty existed even before he created the earth (Ps 90:2). Wisdom speaks of her presence with the Lord “before the beginning of the earth” and while he was creating it (Prov 8:22-31). Through Isaiah, God asks Israel how they can doubt his knowledge of their ways by reminding them that he is Creator (Is 40:27-28). Jesus speaks of “the abomination of desolation” as being more difficult than any other period since God created the world (Mark 13:19). The divine creation of the world is also used to argue the preeminence of Christ (Col 1:15-20). Finally, the song of the twenty-four elders sets the worthiness of God in his creation of all things (Rev 4:11).
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Pursuit of Christ
A few years ago, I decided it was time to read C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia. His spiritual allegories were just what I needed at the time to make some significant biblical truths more precious, more poignant. And in the process I fell in love with Aslan. As I watched the recently-released “Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” I was reminded again how much I love him. I love his intimate tenderness with Lucy. I love his gentle justice with Peter. His approachability with all creatures, great and small. I love his heroic sacrifice at the Stone Table. His redemption of Eustace. His strength. His authority. I still get goose-bumps when the White Witch is silenced and sat down by his roaring response to her doubt of his integrity. Despite its brave façade, evil shudders at the thought of Aslan. When Aslan comes on the scene, I get excited. Something great is going to happen. When Aslan comes on the scene, all will be made right.
But Aslan is only a fictitious shadow of the true Lion. The great King. The One whose existence established tenderness, justice, authority, and love. Without Christ, Aslan would never exist.
So you can imagine my sorrow when I realized Aslan elicited stronger emotion in my heart than Jesus. It’s a true travesty when the copy is regarded more than the type. The problem isn’t with Aslan. It’s with me.
The reason a moving story or breath-taking scene can stir my affections such is because I haven’t spent enough time engaging the real Person. Surely if I grasped a fraction of the majesty and marvel of Jesus, a mere fictitious allegory, no matter how well-written, would seem the pale comparison it is and my response would correlate to that knowledge.
So, resolved, by God’s grace: get to know Jesus better. Be intentional about studying Him in the entirety of Scripture. I start in the Old Testament. Stay tuned...
But Aslan is only a fictitious shadow of the true Lion. The great King. The One whose existence established tenderness, justice, authority, and love. Without Christ, Aslan would never exist.
So you can imagine my sorrow when I realized Aslan elicited stronger emotion in my heart than Jesus. It’s a true travesty when the copy is regarded more than the type. The problem isn’t with Aslan. It’s with me.
The reason a moving story or breath-taking scene can stir my affections such is because I haven’t spent enough time engaging the real Person. Surely if I grasped a fraction of the majesty and marvel of Jesus, a mere fictitious allegory, no matter how well-written, would seem the pale comparison it is and my response would correlate to that knowledge.
So, resolved, by God’s grace: get to know Jesus better. Be intentional about studying Him in the entirety of Scripture. I start in the Old Testament. Stay tuned...
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