The Internet Monk Archives

Outsider Lessons

On-the-Outisde-Looking-In — On the Outside Looking In, photo by Dana Killam (info below)

Not long ago, I wrote a Wilderness Update post called, “Square Peg Syndrome,” which resonated with many people. Consider this a follow-up to that piece.

Yesterday, I read a similar article called, “A Few Things I’ve Learned as a Christian Outsider,” by Benjamin L. Corey over at his blog, Formerly Fundie. He wrote it for those who, like him, “feel like outsiders– out of place everywhere, at home nowhere. . . . exhausted, and on the margins of faith.”

Here are a few of the lessons Corey says he has learned as a Christian outsider:

I’ve learned to get my identity from Jesus, not the tribe.
I’ve learned that the key to happiness is contentment.
I’ve learned who my friends are.
I’ve learned to forgive– not out of desire, but necessity.
I’ve learned that sometimes theology becomes more important than people, and that I don’t want to ever be on the wrong side of this equation again.

He concludes with these words:

Sometimes I think that those of us who feel like outsiders focus a little too heavily on the negative, so these are some positive things that I’m learning– things that are helping me feel like I’m slowly finding life again.

What things have you learned from life as a Christian outsider?

Good lessons. Good insight. Good question for us.

If I were to answer, what would I say? How about you?

Let me share three simple lessons, then it will be your turn to respond.

1. I’ve learned that “church” (as we do it) means different things to me in different seasons of my life.

In our culture, church as we have organized it is primarily a young person’s place and an activity center for families. Especially in more suburban settings. Especially in larger churches. Keeping a lively program going for families, children, and youth is essential in the competitive ecclesiastical atmosphere where I live, just a few notches from the buckle on the Bible belt.

Therefore, I don’t feel at home at church as much as I used to when I fit the demographic. Now I want depth, silence, beauty, an emphasis on formation and contemplation, respect for tradition, leisure for conversation, questions, and reflection. I don’t care so much about action, and when I do, I would prefer meaningful missional works that actually accomplish some good in the community around us, not mere Christian activity or events.

But you gotta pay the bills, right? So we keep bringin’ ’em in and meetin’ their needs.

2. I’ve learned that what I really understand church to be is a group of people with whom I share a common life in Christ.

That specific formulation came to me as I was driving home from the worship service last Sunday. I like my church all right. The liturgy and weekly participation in the Sacrament has been a tremendous boon in my life. There are lots of good people there. But most are not our neighbors, the majority live in other communities, they have their own established friendships and activities, and so do we. We are not enmeshed in each other lives daily or even regularly, except for attending Sunday worship and perhaps another church event or two.

This is so much different from when I was a parish minister, especially in congregations where we lived in a parsonage near the church building. We were seeing people from the church every day, having conversations, aware of what was happening week in and week out in each other’s lives. I really miss that about being a pastor . . .

Believe it or not, what happens for me here on Internet Monk is as close to that as anything I’ve experienced in quite a while. So much so that, on our recent trip when we visited Ted’s home in Maine, I felt like I was meeting someone with whom I shared a true bond. Same with Randy in New Hampshire. Same with the other writers and colleagues such as Jeff, Denise, Dan, Lisa, Damaris, Joe, Adam, and others that I see infrequently but keep up with through this forum. I used to say regularly, “This is not where I live.” Now I’m starting to think that cyberspace will be as personal and communal as we make it.

At any rate, I don’t have, and I miss that regular face-to-face community in Christ.

3. I’ve learned that the God of the church is too small, too tame, too provincial to deserve propping up any longer.

By the “God of the church” I mean the God we have largely created so that we can feel comfortable in our church cultures. As the modern prophet A.W. Tozer once said:

The God of the modern evangelical rarely astonishes anybody. He manages to stay pretty much within the constitution. Never breaks our bylaws. He’s a very well-behaved God and very denominational and very much one of us, and we ask Him to help us when we’re in trouble and look to Him to watch over us when we’re asleep. The God of the modern evangelical isn’t a God I could have much respect for.

This is, I think, what many of us feel when we say, “I’ve outgrown the church.” There is a sense, of course, in which that is impossible, and such a statement teeters on the edge of pride and disdain for others. But I don’t mean it that way at all.

I mean that, as one who has become an outsider, I have seen a bigger God. I have seen the Father’s love at work in Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit in ways inaccessible to those who hide behind church walls and separate themselves from “the world.” There is a parochialism, a separatism, a Pharisaism, if you will, that keeps people from seeing Jesus in any setting outside what they deem “holy.” But there are aspects of creation, common grace, wisdom, and the imago Dei so powerful and real in the most unlikely and unexpected places all around us every day! I hunger to explore them, but they have no place in the constricted imagination of our holy huddles, so one must become an outsider to access them. And once you have tasted the feast which God prepares for us in the midst of the everyday, the thin gruel of what passes for Christian thinking and good works in many of our churches can almost seem repellant.

No, I don’t think I’m “too good” for the church. But on the other hand, I don’t think many churches are doing anyone any favors by conducting business as usual. Michael Spencer found himself in the same wilderness, and urged us all to avoid “Mere Churchianity” like the plague.

Anyway, I may not be a total “outsider,” but my edges are still far too square to fit most of the places I see around me.

• • •

Header Photo by Dana Killam

Another Look: The Apocalyptic Luther

Note from CM: This was first posted as an IM Book Review in December, 2012. I offer it again today (with a few edits), because it brings together emphases from this past week of posts: eschatology and the Reformation. It was eye-opening to me to realize the extent to which Luther was influenced by Last Days thinking, and the urgency therefore to proclaim the good news of justification by faith alone to the people of his day. I wonder what we should take from this and how it might alter our perception of the Reformation itself and what has grown out of it.

• • •

If you want to read a biography of Martin Luther, it is probably wise to start with one that outlines his life and times in fairly standard terms. I would recommend Roland Bainton’s classic, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther. Those who are interested in a more comprehensive study should check out Martin Brecht’s three volume set, which gives the most detailed description of Luther’s life and work available in an English language biography.

But if you want to be exposed to a groundbreaking perspective that will create an indelible impression of Martin Luther as a medieval religious man, caught up in what he considered to be a profound battle between the forces of God and the Devil in the End Times, then I recommend you consider one of the best books I’ve read in recent years: Heiko Oberman’s Luther: Man Between God and the Devil.

Oberman’s thesis, vividly drawn and defended, is summarized in his prologue:

Luther’s measure of time was calibrated with yardsticks other than those of modernity and enlightenment, progress and tolerance. Knowing that the renewal of the Church could be expected to come only from God and only at the end of time, he would have had no trouble enduring curbs on the Evangelical movement. According to Luther’s prediction, the Devil would not “tolerate” the rediscovery of the Gospel; he would rebel with all his might, and muster all his forces against it. God’s Reformation would be preceded by a counterreformation, and the Devil’s progress would mark the Last Days. For where God is at work — in man and in human history — the Devil, the spirit of negation, is never far away.

To understand Luther, we must read the history of his life from an unconventional perspective. It is history “sub specie aeternitatis,” in the light of eternity; not in the mild glow of constant progress toward Heaven, but in the shadow of the chaos of the Last Days and the imminence of eternity.”

Oberman introduces us to the apocalyptic Luther.

It was in the summer of 1514 that Martin Luther first raised his voice against practices regarding indulgences in the Church. Heiko Oberman tells us that the young theologian had an eschatological framework informing his concerns. Luther’s views were shaped in this regard primarily by Augustine and St. Bernard of Clairvaux. Bernard had developed Augustine’s views of the Last Days, devising a scheme of three epochs, marked by the Devil’s attacks against the Church:

The epoch of the Holy Fathers and Martyrs, when the Church suffered bloody persecutions;

The epoch of the heretics, when attacks on Christian doctrine threatened the Church;

The epoch of the last days, when the Church will be corrupted from within and Antichrist will arise to seduce believers. Only Christ himself can finally overcome him, at his return.

As Oberman says, “From the very start it was clear to Luther that Jesus’ prophecy of the Last Days fully applied to the situation of the Church in his time. With Bernard’s warnings in mind he concluded already in 1514: ‘The way I see it, the Gospel of St. Matthew counts such perversions as the sale of indulgences among the signs of the Last Days.’”

This casts an entirely different light on the Reformation. How did Luther view his reforming efforts? What were they intended to achieve? What did he hope would be their outcome?

First, he never expected that the Reformation would defeat the Adversary. Rather, he understood what was happening as the fulfillment of Jesus’ prophecy that the true Gospel would be preached in the Last Days. While this would certainly benefit the Church, it would also lead to an intensification of attacks on God’s people leading to Christ’s return.

Second, for Luther the “Counter-Reformation” had come first, and the “Reformation” was God’s work to maintain a faithful witness in the world and give solace to his suffering Church. The Devil had struck the blow and Antichrist was rising to power. Only Christ himself would be able to bring about his ultimate defeat. Luther saw his work as equipping the church to persevere and proclaim the true gospel until God’s intervention at the end.

Third, the Devil had also attacked the world’s institutions, so Luther worked for the “betterment” (rather than reformation) of secular rights and political order. Despite his apocalyptic perspective, Luther did not promote abandoning the world, God’s creation, to chaos. He supported its leaders and encouraged the development of its temporal institutions, such as education, in an effort to combat the Devil’s attacks and provide for those affected by them.

* * *

Heiko Oberman’s insights remind us that Martin Luther was, indeed, a medieval man who worked out of a conceptual world much different than modern thinkers. Spiritual, eschatological, and apocalyptic realities were as vivid and alive to him as the world of sense and experience.

…Christ and the Devil were equally real to him: one was the perpetual intercessor for Christianity, the other a menace to mankind till the end. To argue that Luther never overcame the medieval belief in the Devil says far too little; he even intensified it and lent to it additional urgency: Christ and Satan wage a cosmic war for mastery over Church and world. No one can evade involvement in this struggle. Even for the believer there is no refuge — neither monastery nor the seclusion of the wilderness offer him a chance for escape. The Devil is the omnipresent threat, and exactly for this reason the faithful need the proper weapons for survival.

There is no way to grasp Luther’s milieu of experience and faith unless one has an acute sense of his view of Christian existence between God and the Devil: without a recognition of Satan’s power, belief in Christ is reduced to an idea about Christ — and Luther’s faith becomes a confused delusion in keeping with the tenor of his time.

Martin Luther saw the spiritual battles of his day in apocalyptic terms. In his view, it was under the dark, foreboding clouds of the great apostasy and the rise of Antichrist in the Last Days that the Reformer raised up the gospel and sought to strengthen the Church against Satan’s onslaughts.

Clinging firmly to that gospel, between God and the Devil he stood, until Christ would bring the true and ultimate Reformation, the renewal of all things.

When it becomes “The Thing,” RUN!

But of this I am convinced: Reformed Christianity is best equipped to help us in our exile. (Carl Trueman)

It seems to me that the proper response would be for us to look earnestly for every possible way to draw together, to make common cause, to pray together, to build one another up, and especially, if possible, to share the Eucharist.

It seems to Carl Trueman that the proper response is to explain how his Christian tradition is better than all the other Christian traditions . . . (Alan Jacobs)

I see no triumphalism in what I wrote, but simply a plea that the Reformed tradition has much to commend it at a time when state and cultural hostility to Christianity is growing. (Carl Trueman)

• • •

Today, I offer my thoughts on a debate that has been going on between Carl Trueman and Alan Jacobs, reflected in the back-and-forth quotes above.

It has been complemented by a Twitter exchange about Trueman’s article and an article by Rod Dreher that used Trueman’s piece to spark a discussion about our various church traditions. Now, it’s my turn.

[I encourage to at least read Trueman’s original post at First Things and Jacobs’s response before going on. Click on the names above for the links.]

Count me among Trueman’s critics. Sorry, Carl, but in callin’ ’em like I see ’em, I say your article was triumphalism. I agree with those in the Twitter conversation who found it parochial, full of boasting and false claims to uniqueness.

For Carl Trueman, “Reformed Christianity” has become “The Thing.” And whenever something other than that which is absolutely essential becomes “The Thing,” it’s time to run, not sign on.

Perhaps a better way of critiquing this article would be to say that it represents an embattled “Remnant Theology.” In Trueman’s view, the “Reformed” tradition (he is a pastor in an Orthodox Presbyterian Church — does this qualify him to speak for all the “Reformed”?) gives us the best chance to survive in exile because it enables us to drink from the stream of doctrine, faith, and practice that God has always kept pure by his providence, and which has been a source of nourishment throughout the checkered history of the church. Here is how it plays on the big screen:

Whenever the church has entered a “Dark Age” [cue dramatic music in minor key], those holding the “Reformed” faith have arisen [switch music to major key and swell to great crescendo] to hold fast the Truth, maintain a faithful remnant, and keep the torch of the Gospel burning so that it might be passed on to succeeding generations. Soli Deo Gloria!!!

This view of church history spouts the same fallacies I wrote about in last year’s post, “There Is No Narrow, Pure Stream.” It is remnant theology, philosophically akin to Landmarkism, and it amounts to doing church history with blinders on, tracing a straight, unambiguous line from:

The Apostle Paul (who showed us in Romans that sound systematic theology is the preeminent virtue) — [jump 300 years to] — Augustine (the font of a true understanding of Paul, especially re: predestination) — [jump 1100 years to] — Luther (well, at least the sola fide part) — [include] — Calvin (who got it more right than Luther) — [jump to] — the great Scottish Presbyterians and English Puritans of the 17th century, along with Westminster Standards, which represent the pinnacle of Sound Doctrine™ — to the New England Puritans in America, our Pilgrim fathers. — Stop. — It was pretty much downhill from then, until J. Gresham Machen took his great stand against liberalism in the 20th century, and groups like the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (surprise! Trueman’s own church) were formed.

We all have our hagiographies, our company of saints, and this is a short list of the ones the Orthodox Presbyterians and others like them venerate.

I like this approach better: “I believe one holy catholic and apostolic Church.”

Remnant theology informs what is perhaps the most revealing (and appalling) statement in Trueman’s article: “Doctrinally, the Reformed Church affirms the great truths that were defined in the early Church, to which she adds the Protestant doctrine of salvation by faith alone.”

That amounts to an admission that the tradition he represents and lauds was and is not about “recovering” and “restoring” the faith once delivered to the saints and explicated in the great ecumenical councils of the church, but about “adding” emphases that were peculiarly important in the 16th century and which became defined and institutionalized contra other Christian traditions.

To say this is to claim that only the “Reformed” have the pure gospel. They are the Remnant, purer even than those who shaped the Creeds.

But then, confusingly, on the other hand, Trueman describes the gospel which the Reformed tradition teaches in these terms: “We are dead in sin and need to be united to Christ, the God-man, who lived and died and rose again for us and for our salvation. United with him, we look beyond the ephemera of this world to the eternity beyond.”

And I would ask, what truly Christian tradition doesn’t define the gospel like that? This is mere Christianity! This is the “great room” in which we all meet together. This is the essence and substance of the Creeds. This is a clear basis for unity among all true believers.

There’s much more. For example, Carl Trueman has the gall to suggest, with regard to worship, that Reformed liturgy alone can provide the “ballast” Christians need to weather the various destructive “liturgies” the world throws at us every day. As you all know, I am a confirmed believer in traditional liturgical patterns of corporate worship, but to suggest that the “Reformed” liturgy as practiced in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church is somehow superior to all other traditions that follow the same or similar patterns is ludicrous.

I could go on, but grant me the opportunity to temper my rant.

What Trueman calls the “Reformed” tradition has much of value to offer the church, and I appreciate what he has to say about robust preaching, the centrality of Christ and faith, a nourishing liturgy, the use of the Psalms in worship, habits of catechism and family devotion, a providential understanding of history, thoughtful consideration of the relationship between church and state, and so on.

I also do not have any problem with someone being an advocate for his tradition, expressing his love and appreciation for it, and encouraging others to benefit from its virtues. Indeed, if this article had been written from the standpoint of, “Here’s what the Reformed tradition has to offer the Church in these days of exile,” then I would have commended it as generous and helpful.

A time of exile is not when we should splinter into a bunch of little groups that try to stay pure contra not only the culture but also one another. It may be, as Ross Douthat says in the Twitter exchange, a good time for each tradition to clarify its own beliefs and come to appreciate more fully the resources it has in its history, doctrinal emphases, and practices. But it is also a time to know that we are members of one church, and to reach out to support each other by sharing those resources and partnering together in mission for the life of the world. It is not a time to withdraw, clutching ever more tightly to “the truth” as we see it. It is a time to be generous, open-hearted good listeners, neighbors and friends to one another in the faith. We need each other more than ever.

Carl Trueman’s article shows no indication that he understands that or finds that desirable. Despite noting on occasion that his church has much in common with other traditions such as Roman Catholicism, Trueman suggests that what he calls “Reformed Protestantism” is the only path that will fully sustain and nourish God’s people in exile.

This is remnant theology: only a small, faithful company of saints are equipped well enough to survive.

In this article at least, “Reformed” has become “The Thing.” And that makes me want to run, not embrace it.

Saturday Ramblings — August 2, 2014

I awoke early to take dawn pictures at Lake Winnepesaukee in New Hampshire when we were on our trip. It was a cloudy, drizzly morning, so I didn’t get many great shots, but I did happen upon these feathered friends performing their morning routine on Weirs Beach. Like them, we’re gonna wade in, splash some cold water on our faces, and see what we can drag out of the web to chew on today.

So come on, buoys and gulls, let’s ramble.

We begin with great news about one of our own high flying friends. Two of the really good folks, Dee and Deb over at Wartburg Watch, have published the first part of Eagle’s personal story. In his own words, “This is a story of a faith crisis. It’s a story of falling away, wondering in the unknown, struggling to find faith, and finally hitting bottom. It’s a journey of coming to terms with my evangelical past and slowly finding a way forward.”

This is also a story about some of you, who played an important role in encouraging Eagle on his journey. Good stuff.

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings — August 2, 2014”

Things I “Learned” from Rapture Theology

I could see the conclusion of this week’s posts coming from a mile away. I spent the first 24 years of my life in Plymouth Brethren churches that were at the forefront of promoting Rapture Theology. Here are some of the things that I “learned”.

The return of Christ is in God’s timing, so Satan has to have an Antichrist ready for every generation. Candidates have been…
a) The Pope (whichever one was current)
b) Hitler (more on this later)
c) Walt Disney (more on this later)
If A=101 and B = 102 and C = 103 etc., then Hitler adds up to 666. So does Disney
Walt Disney believed in One World Government
Rapture theologians needed more mathematicians in their midst. Disney adds up to 676
The ten horns of the Beast in Revelation 17:12 are the ten members of the European Common Market
The Whore of Babylon (Revelation 17) was the Roman Catholic Church (By the way, this view was also held by Luther, Knox, and Calvin)
The fig tree of Luke 21 represented the Nation of Israel.
The budding of the fig tree represented Israel becoming a nation again on March 14, 1948.
It would less than one generation from the date of Israel becoming a nation until Christ returned.
A generation was 40 years.
Christ’s return could be “any minute”
The alignment of the planets in 1984 meant that Christ was going to return in 1984.
There were 88 Reasons why the Rapture will be in 1988
Jack Van Impe can quote 14,000 verses including virtually the whole New Testament. (He had an end-times tape ministry to which my Father subscribed.)
What’s Bible Camp, without a long banner showing the different “dispensations” running the length of the dining hall.
Rapture Theology was the source of a very popular youth group song with catchy tune, and horrible lyrics.
Airlines shouldn’t have both the pilot and co-pilot both be Christians. If the Rapture occurred there would be no one left to fly the plane.
The Scofield Reference Bible in the King James Version was the only acceptable Bible for serious Christians.
It is not very fun as a kid being ambushed in Sunday School when given an “opportunity” to share an apposing point of view.
Disagree and you are not walking in God’s will.
The Bahai hold similar theology, only in their case Christ returned to earth in the form of Bahá’u’lláh in 1800s. (The Bahai are to Islam what Islam is to Christianity, and Christianity is to Judaism.)

I am sure I have missed more than a few items here. What else have you experienced?

Another Look: Time to Leave Behind the Rapture

Note from CM: We’ve talked about a few aspects of eschatology this week. I thought it might be good to re-post this piece that was originally run in May 2011, right before the Harold Camping debacle. As the header art indicates, the subject is bound to be widely discussed again soon, thanks to what I can only assume will be a cinematic debacle, to be released in October. My, how the church gets it wrong sometimes!

• • •

Come on, children
You’re acting like children
Every generation
Thinks it’s the end of the world

– Wilco, “You Never Know”

I had a spiritual awakening as a teenager in a time when prophetic expectations were high. Israel was in her land and engaged in violent confrontations with her antagonistic neighbors. Issues regarding Arab oil and other tensions in the Middle East were becoming more intense. Life in the United States itself was in turmoil. Ongoing civil rights struggles, the Vietnam war, the youth culture of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll, amazing technological achievements such as the Apollo space program, the continuing Cold War, and political intrigue in the White House — all these things and more had believers feeling certain that we were in the last days and that Jesus must certainly be returning soon. Prophetic teachers like Hal Lindsey were having a field day and selling lots and lots of books. Youth groups and outreach events often featured films like A Thief in the Night.

In those days I started following Jesus in a fresh way with my New Scofield Bible in hand, prophetic teaching a major part of the Bible studies I attended and the churches where I worshiped. I wasn’t able to spell “dispensationalism,” but my friends and I believed Jesus was coming back. We sang Larry Norman’s “I Wish We’d All Been Ready” with real feeling.

Soon, it was off to Bible College and full immersion in the theology of C.I. Scofield, Lewis Sperry Chafer, Charles Ryrie, John Walvoord, J. Dwight Pentecost, Alva J. McClain, Renald Showers, and Charles Feinberg. If theology was the “Queen of the Sciences,” then dispensationalist eschatology was her crown, I was taught.

In this light, we were warned that such established and traditional interpretations such as “Covenant Theology” and “Amillennialism” were to be dreaded and viewed as hopelessly inadequate. And God forbid that we should get caught making any “compromises” such as acceptance of a post-tribulation rapture. The Book of Revelation was taught in a purely futurist fashion, and the Bible as a whole was presented almost like a giant puzzle book that, once figured out, provided a detailed prophetic vision of “God’s plan for the ages.” It was as clear as the amazing draftsman-like charts in Clarence Larkin’s Dispensational Truth. Which is to say, it was confusing.

Before I ever began to grasp specific exegetical and theological problems with the dispensational system, I felt uncomfortable with the whole approach. The theological charts and outlines and lists of proof texts bore no resemblance to the form of the text I saw when I opened my Bible. I read stories and poetry as well as prophetic passages that spoke in eloquent imagery and with dramatic symbolism that engaged my imagination as well as my mind. However, I could not detect the same kind of beauty or wonder in the prosaic, mechanical system of theology my professors droned on about. All the magnificent animated three dimensional literature of the Scriptures became flattened, reduced to a blueprint or series of mathematical formulae.

Not only that, but the system seemed to miss (or at least downplay) the most important theological point of all – that Jesus and the story of him told in the Gospels is the pinnacle of God’s plan, the fulfillment of his promises. In essence, dispensationalism denies that. Jesus’ ministry was necessary, but only an interim step in God’s ultimate triumph. The real victory will be won when Christ returns. The church is only a “parenthesis” in God’s plan until he starts to work with Israel again.

The dispensational approach fails to see that Jesus fulfilled the calling and role of Israel. They failed to be the light of the world, but he succeeded. Now in him God is gathering his new creation people, made of up of Jews and Gentiles alike. The Jewish people are called to Christ through the Gospel like everyone else, and though God continues to deal providentially with nations, there is no special divine plan for the nation of Israel. The boundaries of the Promised Land now encompass the entire earth, and soon all the kingdoms of this world will become the Kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ.

Not so, say the dispensational teachers. For them the future vision is made up of the Middle East, the nation of Israel, the land of Palestine, the coming Antichrist, a rebuilt temple, the battle of Armageddon, and so on. The event that will trigger it all is the Rapture, when the Church is “caught up” to heaven to be with Christ, spared from the season of trouble that will come on the whole world.

It is only within the entire dispensational system that the teaching of the “Rapture” makes any sense. In fact, you will not find any passage or text in the Bible that unambiguously teaches the pre-tribulation Rapture. It must be inferred from the whole theological package. The reasoning goes like this.

God made an eternal covenant with the nation of Israel.
As part of that covenant, Jesus came to offer himself to Israel as their King.
Israel rejected Jesus, so God set aside Israel for this age and formed the church, which he deals with during this parenthesis in God’s plan known as the Church Age.
God’s prophetic clock has stopped until the end of the Church Age, when the church will be removed from earth (via Rapture), and God will restart his plan for Israel.
God resumes his work with Israel during the Tribulation period and the prophetic clock starts ticking once more, leading to the Second Coming, the resurrection and the judgment, the millennial kingdom, the final judgment, and the new heavens and new earth.

Dispensationalism asserts that the reason for the Rapture is to bring the Church Age to its conclusion and make way for God to resume his plan for Israel. Deconstruct that reasoning and out goes the Rapture. Without that theological infrastructure, one would be hard pressed to find anything that looks like the Rapture in the teaching of the Bible.

The one passage that people most invoke as a description of the Rapture (“caught up”) is 1Thessalonians 4:13-17, which is Paul’s teaching about Christ’s return (parousia). I won’t take the time to discuss it in detail here, but refer you to an article by N.T. Wright and another piece that includes commentary by Ben Witherington III and others. Both give excellent explanations of the imagery Paul uses in this text. The Apostle is describing Jesus’ return using language from the culture that evoked the visit of a Roman official, something that has been recognized since the days of the early church. For example, here’s a quote from John Chrysostom (349-407) which gives the sense:

“For when a king drives into a city, those who are honorable go out to meet him; but the condemned await the judge within. And upon the coming of an affectionate father, his children indeed, and those who are worthy to be his children, are taken out in a chariot, that they may see him and kiss him; but the housekeepers who have offended him remain within. (Homily 8 on 1 Thessalonians)”

As James-Michael Smith says, “Paul is not talking about the mass disappearance of Christians from all over the globe. He is talking about the final return of Jesus as conquering King and Judge of the Living and Dead. And he is doing so using the unmistakable vocabulary of Roman Imperial rhetoric, which his Thessalonian readers would’ve immediately recognized.” In other words, the text does not teach a “Rapture” in which the church is removed from the earth, but a triumphant return of a King coming to rule, who is welcomed by those who come out to greet and attend him as he enters his kingdom with acclaim.

There will be one Second Coming, one return, one glorious “appearing” of the Lord Jesus Christ when he comes to consummate his triumphant finished work. It’s time to leave behind puzzle piece theology and read the Bible more carefully as it is given to us, not as we dissect it and put it back together.

In doing so, we will leave teachings like the Rapture far behind.

Completing the King’s Afflictions

Martyrdom of st-stephen — The Martyrdom of Stephen, Lotto

I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.

• Colossians 1:24, NRSV

• • •

1. This week, we are focusing on what I guess might be called, “the quandary of the church age.” On Monday, I suggested that one of the most vexing questions for those who read the New Testament has to do with the expectations one might develop when reading the NT, about how history would work out once Jesus launched “the last days.”

The NT presents Christ’s death and resurrection as historically and soteriologically decisive, his ascension as the event by which he took his throne, putting his enemies under his feet, and the descent of the Spirit as the long-awaited gift forming a community of transformed people whose powerful witness would announce the rule of Jesus as Lord over the entire world. Furthermore, it is promised that Jesus would return, the dead would be raised, and all creation renewed — and it appears that the early Christians expected this to happen sooner rather than later.

And here we are two thousand years later, looking back on a tumultuous history and wondering why sin still abounds and the church so often appears at best incompetent at being a sign of Jesus’ reign and a new creation.

• • •

2. Yesterday, we took some instruction from Alan E. Lewis’s book, Between Cross and Resurrection: A Theology of Holy Saturday. Lewis suggests that the central narrative of Christian faith, which is reflected in the high point of the liturgical year, should form our perspective on the way we view our lives and history itself, as well as the mission of the church.

Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday form the triduan pattern of this narrative and show how God in Jesus loved the world “to the uttermost” (John 13:1) and defeated the powers of sin, death, and evil in the world. The three-fold pattern describes how God’s victory only came as Jesus and his disciples first walked through two days through death, defeat, and despair.

This helps us define the nature of the Christian “hope.” It is truly hope, and not mere optimism. Optimism sees things getting better and better, moving from victory to victory, a more or less consistent upward trajectory of progress. Hope, on the other hand, acknowledges the roller coaster and clings to the fact that love will ultimately triumph in the long term even when it appears too weak in the short and medium term to stand up to the power of evil.

Whatever we expect, then, from the fact that Jesus is Lord, has won the decisive victory, and has promised that the world will be put to rights in the end, we shouldn’t expect that the journey there will be one of quick and unambiguous progress. For God has shown us that the way he wins is not by winning, and that love must risk being rejected or worse in order to transform life.

• • •

3. Today we look at an intriguing statement by the Apostle Paul that gives us further insight into how he saw his own life and mission in the context of the turning of the ages. In Colossians 1:24, he tells the believers in Colossae that his afflictions as an apostle are part of a much bigger picture. This involves the story of Messiah’s sufferings (the triduan pattern) and how that story continues in the church as it participates in the Missio Dei.

Here is N.T. Wright’s translation of the verse and his commentary on it:

Right now I’m having a celebration — a celebration of my sufferings, which are for your benefit! And I’m steadily completing, in my own flesh, what remains of the king’s afflictions on behalf of his body, which is the church.

First, in verses 24 and 25, Paul sees his own sufferings as part of what he calls “the king’s afflictions.” He is drawing on an ancient Jewish belief according to which a time of great suffering would form the dark valley through which Israel and the world must pass to reach the age to come. This suffering would be the prelude to the age of the Messiah, the age of the king. For Paul, the Messiah himself had already passed through the suffering, and had brought the age to come into being. But because this new age is still struggling in tension with the “present age,” there is still suffering to be undergone. This is not to be seen as an addition to the king’s own suffering; rather it is to be seen as an extension of it. Paul is thus content to take his share of suffering, in prison for the sake of the gospel. It will help to complete the afflictions through which the new age will emerge in its full and final form.

• Paul for Everyone: The Prison Letters

Here we have confirmation of one way the church should look at its life and mission in these “last days” and why it might not always appear to be as “triumphant” as one might expect from a cursory reading of the N.T. The church (exemplified by Paul) exists to “fill up the afflictions of Christ,” that is, to “complete the afflictions through which the new age will emerge in its full and final form.”

Some folks in the comments yesterday expressed concern that such an emphasis might promote exalting victimization and a kind of religious masochism. The church has not been immune to this, as in early centuries when it seems some actually courted martyrdom as the path to glory.

However, let it be said that Paul is speaking after the fact. He is reflecting on his sufferings, which he did not seek. What he sought was to follow Jesus and love people, forming them into communities of faith, hope, and love. Paul was about trusting Christ and living a risky life of love for others. This led to him having to endure suffering from those who misunderstood, misrepresented, feared and resented the love he gave. But out of that love and out of those trials, new life was born.

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.

• 2 Corinthians 4:8-12

Of course, none of this actually explains why it is taking so long to “complete what remains of the king’s afflictions” or why it often appears that such little progress has been made.

Perhaps too few of us have embraced the risky path of love.

The Triduan Shape of History

Today, we follow up yesterday’s post on The Most Vexing Question. To me, the fundamental quandaries raised in the piece were:

Who would have thought that the life of Jesus’ church in “the last days” would span a history as long as Israel’s before Christ? And that our history would be as checkered under the risen and reigning Christ? Is there any indication of this in the New Testament?

Perhaps one way of coming to grips with this conundrum is to reimagine the shape of history and the mission of the church and to distinguish “hope” from “optimism.”

That is what Alan E. Lewis has done in his monumental study, Between Cross and Resurrection: A Theology of Holy Saturday. In brief, Lewis suggests that our perspective on history and the future should be shaped by the church’s experience of the Great Three Days: Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. This is our core narrative and it lays down the pattern by which we live and view life. It is a cruciform perspective in which resurrection follows death and despair and recognizes the place of all three as essential movements in the way God (and therefore, history) works.

However, the church has not always recognized this. Lewis writes, “Much has happened since the first Easter Saturday to dull the keenness of the questions facing Christian faith and life concerning history and its future” (p. 262).

He notes that the early Christians, living as they did in the midst of trials, persecution, and social exile, had a vision of the end and their own resurrection that would be attained only through sharing in Christ’s sufferings (see, for example Philippians 3:10-11). However, Lewis continues, once the Empire was Christianized and the church became more comfortable and optimistic about its own future, apocalypticism with its dark shadows was largely jettisoned, replaced by sunnier, more linear theologies of progressive victory until the glorious end. Lament was transformed into complacency; the cross into a symbol of triumphalism.

Nevertheless, not even the best-informed, most responsible reading of Revelation, or the most Christocentric and trinitarian discussion of the “end days” can evade the haunting implications of the church’s identifying three-day narrative, centered upon Easter Saturday. For that insists — and nothing in our contemporary experience contradicts its awful truthfulness — that the God of Jesus Christ does not intervene to prevent catastrophe and rupture. As grace abounds only beyond sin’s great magnitude and increase, so resurrection and consummation do not cancel or impede but strictly follow after termination and annihilation, for God and humanity alike. The very promise of the eschaton confirms rather than refutes God’s freedom to be death’s victim, the defenseless quarry of predatory evil; and the only hope and power for a divine redeeming of humanity and history rest in a Lamb who has pathetically been slaughtered: the embodiment of hopelessness and helplessness. (p. 282)

In Revelation, remember, the Lamb on the throne is bloody.

In other words, Lewis says, we must conceive God’s creative and re-creative power “from the standpoint of the grave, as dynamic surrender to suffering and restriction” (p. 297). If God exposed himself to destruction by abandoning his beloved Son to death, the One in whom all creation holds together, in order to save that creation, it gives us a much different view of how the people who follow the Son shall attain to perfection. We take up our cross, and follow him.

To see God self-exposed thus to destruction between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, for the sake of history’s deliverance from destruction, is to recognize that the creative and redemptive omnipotence of God, far from invulnerable and impervious to opposition is in fact an exquisitely perilous power which does not protect itself against the catastrophe and boundless sorrow which would be creation’s devastation and time’s annihilation. (p. 298)

In other words, God only exercises his rule in a context where evil triumphs (if only for a season).

Here is an extended quote, summarizing Alan Lewis’s perceptive thoughts.

Not the least sobering implication of the triduan story we have now both heard and thought is that the Christian gospel requires of those who live by it unflinching discrimination between hope and optimism. For if our narrative encouragingly promises that at work within us and around us are energies greater than the powers of death and evil which menace and destroy life and empty it of meaning, purpose, and justice, still the story gravely identifies those energies with the wispy, intangible defenselessness of love. And love’s power is actually powerless to impede huge triumphs of egregious evil and unrighteousness in the world. Only through vulnerable victimization at the hands of sin and death, and not by blocking, crushing, or annihilating those agents of destruction, does the triune God of righteous love flourish yet more abundantly than the luxurious barrenness of hate and wickedness.

To hope, therefore, in love as tomorrow’s guarantor, as even more creative and enduring than the great destructiveness of lovelessness, is itself to banish shallow optimism for the future of the world. Hope itself embraces the proposition that evil may increase, death have its day of triumph, and history be terminated. Certainly any sunny supposition that the world cannot be lost, nor death be finally victorious, that evil at worst is inept and its success provisional and passing, is cancelled by a darker hope, grounded in Easter Saturday, which confesses that the only victory in life is won by going beyond, not by thwarting or reducing, the expansive magnitude of death and the surd reality of its ascendancy. Faith’s assurance of the final consummation of the cosmos does not preclude but makes space of fearsome amplitude for the future loss of history, just as the Son of God’s third-day resurrection did not forestall ahead of time, nor cancel retroactively, the end of himself and of the world on the second day.

• Between Cross and Resurrection, p. 261f

In other words, God did not and does not win by winning. Neither will the church. We attain to Easter only through Good Friday and Holy Saturday. There will be no resurrection, no consummation, without intervening death and despair. “. . . if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him” (Rom. 8:17).

The cry “How long?” will continue to the very last day.

The Most Vexing Question

Sea of Faces, Evelyn Williams (info below)

We do not see our signs;
There is no longer any prophet,
Nor is there any among us who knows how long.
How long, O God . . .

• Psalm 74:9-10

• • •

What is (or should be) the most troublesome matter in theology for Christian people?

It is the fact that we are still here as we’ve always been, and that the world has not been transformed under the rule of Christ.

We read words in the New Testament like this:

I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

• Romans 8:18-25

Yes, the text speaks of “waiting with patience” for the hope promised to Jesus’ followers. However, remember, those words were written to believers nearly 2,000 years ago! At that time, the apostle says, creation was waiting “with eager longing” for its final redemption. Haven’t creation’s “labor pains” continued past the point that anyone would expect? Didn’t Paul go on to say, “the night is far gone, the day is near”? (13:12).

“Quite clearly, whatever Paul expected, he expected it to happen soon, and no doubt within his own lifetime” (Stephen S. Smalley).

Doesn’t the New Testament lead us to believe that Jesus ushered in “the last days,” the days when God’s kingdom would come, and God’s will be done on earth as in heaven?

The book of Hebrews says:

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. (1:1-2)

It also gives perspective on the relationship of Jesus’ followers to the saints that came before:

Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, without us, be made perfect. (11:39-40)

The author’s point is that, before Jesus came, people were waiting, looking, longing for the fulfillment of God’s promises. They were people of faith and hope, trusting in God’s word that one day he would act, that the “city” he was “preparing” would become their home. Throughout their lives and throughout the long history of Israel, they wandered and struggled and hoped toward that future pledge.

All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them. (11:13-16)

But now, the author of Hebrews proclaims, we have received it!

Of course, that didn’t imply an immediate consummation, for the author then goes on to talk about a race that his readers must run with perseverance (12:1-13). But a 2,000 year race is one whale of a marathon, and there appears to be no finish line in sight.

Who would have thought that the life of Jesus’ church in “the last days” would span a history as long as Israel’s before Christ? And that our history would be as checkered under the risen and reigning Christ? Is there any indication of this in the New Testament?

It was common in 20th century N.T. studies to talk about how the “delay of the parousia” became a problem in the early church and is reflected in the development of teaching in the N.T. itself. Some scholars tried to show how the authors transitioned to a “realized eschatology,” redefining what it means to say that “Jesus will return.” Others tried to more carefully define the tension between “already” and “not yet” in the teachings of Jesus and the apostles. Still others deny a “development” in the N.T. texts, but rather see different emphases based on the needs of the communities which were being addressed.

The focus of all these studies had to do with the nature of future hope in the early days of the Jesus movement and how that is reflected in the writings of that period. But I don’t think “the delay of the parousia” posed as much of a problem for the believers in N.T. times as it does for us at this stage in church history.

I’ve been reading more of Andrew Perriman’s “narrative-historical” views on his blog P.OST and in his book, The Future of the People of God: Reading Romans Before and After Western Christendom.

Perriman interprets the vast majority of New Testament teachings about “the end” to refer to historical judgments that were in close proximity to the days of Jesus and the apostles and intimately related to the world in which they lived. In the Gospels, Jesus’ teachings about “the end” pointed to the coming destruction of Jerusalem, and apostolic warnings about “the wrath to come” and “Jesus’ return” pointed to the triumph of Christ over the pagan Greco-Roman empire, which eventually came to pass through the establishment of Christendom. Perriman also holds that there is a “final” eschatology that looks beyond these to the new creation.

But that still leaves a large, unexplained (unforeseen?) gap in history. Various eschatological systems have tried to explain how the “end times” will work and what will happen when Jesus returns. But to my knowledge, this problem of an extended interval that lasts thousands of years has been and remains largely ignored, even though I think it raises profound and perplexing questions for our faith.

The cry, “How long?” is starting to wear thin.

• • •

Header Art: Sea of Faces by Evelyn Williams.

A Jesus-Shaped Response to Israel and Gaza

I’m sure many of us as individuals and churches will be praying for the situation in Israel and Gaza this weekend.

It is one thing to express my opinions, “Christian” or otherwise, as I sit in my living room safely, thousands of miles away from a crisis situation in another part of the world. I don’t deny that people in my circumstances might have something worthwhile to say, but my ability to contribute to the conversation with the kind of insight that comes from being intimately involved in the situation will be limited.

On the other hand, the following statement from Bethlehem Bible College in Israel contains an clear sense of credibility. You may or may not agree with its precise wording, but it would be hard to argue that you or I have a better view of the circumstances upon which the statement comments.

First, a little information about Bethlehem Bible College. This is from their website:

Bethlehem Bible College is a Christian college located in Bethlehem, the very site where Jesus was born. Located within the territory of the West Bank, the local community is highly impacted by today’s political unrest and conflict.

It is from the very epicenter of Christianity, that the Christian community is slowly decreasing. Before 1948 the Christian community was roughly 8% of the community in the Holy Land. Today, the Christian population is a less than 1.5% of the Palestinian community, as many Christians are emigrating from the difficult political situation to better opportunities for education, work, and their families abroad.

Bethlehem Bible College was founded in 1979 by local Arabs, to offer high-quality theological education and train Christian leaders for service in the local church and the local community. It aims to strengthen and revive the Christian church and support the local Christians in the Holy land, in order to combat this growing Christian exodus.

And now here is their perspective on the current situation in Israel and Gaza, entitled, “A statement by Bethlehem Bible College regarding the current crisis in Gaza,” issued July 25, 2014.

Today God weeps over the situation in Palestine and Israel. Today God weeps over Gaza. With God, our hearts are broken when we see the carnage in Gaza and in Israel.

We at Bethlehem Bible College consistently called for a just peace for both Israelis and Palestinians. We always sought a nonviolent resolution to the conflict. “All forms of violence must be refuted unequivocally”, stated the Christ at the Checkpoint manifesto. We also believe that as long as the occupation of Palestinian territory and the siege of Gaza remain, the conflict will continue to escalate. To quote the manifesto again, “for Palestinian Christians, the occupation is the core issue of the conflict”.

As Christians committed to nonviolence, we do not and cannot endorse Hamas’ ideology. However, we believe that the people of Gaza have the right to live in freedom and dignity. This means that the siege over Gaza should be lifted and the borders should be open. The people of Gaza need a chance to live.

We oppose Hamas launching rockets at Israeli town and cities. At the same time, we are shocked by the unproportional and inhuman response by the Israeli military and the disregard of civilian life and specially innocent women and children.

We are grieved by the mounting hate, bigotry and racism in our communities today, and the consequent violence. We are specially grieved when Christians are contributing to the culture of hatred and division, rather than allowing Christ to use them as instruments of peace and reconciliation.

In the face of this, we affirm – using the words of our own Dr. Yohanna Katanacho:

We are against killing children and innocent people. We support love not hatred, justice not oppression, equality not bigotry, peaceful solutions not military solutions. Violence will only beget wars, it will bring more pain and destruction for all the nations of the region. Peacemaking rooted in justice is the best path forward. Therefore, we commit ourselves to spread a culture of love, peace, and justice in the face of violence, hatred, and oppression.

We call on all the friends of Bethlehem Bible College to pray for an immediate ceasefire, followed by serious efforts to address the root of the problem not the symptoms. We pray comfort for the bereaved families. We specially pray for the Christians of Gaza, who although are currently under bombardment, yet they are offering shelter and support for the displaced and wounded. We finally call for you to pray for all those – Palestinians, Israelis and internationals – who are committed to spreading a culture of love, peace, and justice in the face of violence, hatred, and oppression.

• • •

Note: Pray for the Shepherd Society – a ministry of Bethlehem Bible College – as we contemplate practical ways to minister and walk along the destitute and displaced in Gaza. We will soon share with you how you can help us respond to the huge needs.

A statement by Bethlehem Bible College’s board of directors, president, deans, faculty, staff and students – and the local committee of Christ at the Checkpoint.

The statement is co-authored by members of a local committee in partnership with BBC, called Christ at the Checkpoint. This is a biennial conference held in the Holy Land that brings together Christians from around the world “to pray, worship, learn and discuss together the responsibility and role of the church in helping resolve the conflict and bringing peace, justice and equality to the Holy Land through following the teaching of Jesus on the Kingdom of God.” The most recent conference was held in March.

Here is their ten-point Manifesto:

The Kingdom of God has come. Evangelicals must reclaim the prophetic role in bringing peace, justice and reconciliation in Palestine and Israel.
Reconciliation recognizes God’s image in one another.
Racial ethnicity alone does not guarantee the benefits of the Abrahamic Covenant.
The Church in the land of the Holy One, has born witness to Christ since the days of Pentecost. It must be empowered to continue to be light and salt in the region, if there is to be hope in the midst of conflict.
Any exclusive claim to land of the Bible in the name of God is not in line with the teaching of Scripture.
All forms of violence must be refuted unequivocally.
Palestinian Christians must not lose the capacity to self-criticism if they wish to remain prophetic.
There are real injustices taking place in the Palestinian territories and the suffering of the Palestinian people can no longer be ignored. Any solution must respect the equity and rights of Israel and Palestinian communities.
For Palestinian Christians, the occupation is the core issue of the conflict.
Any challenge of the injustices taking place in the Holy Land must be done in Christian love. Criticism of Israel and the occupation cannot be confused with anti-Semitism and the delegitimization of the State of Israel.
Respectful dialogue between Palestinian and Messianic believers must continue. Though we may disagree on secondary matters of theology, the Gospel of Jesus and his ethical teaching take precedence.
Christians must understand the global context for the rise of extremist Islam. We challenge stereotyping of all faith forms that betray God’s commandment to love our neighbors and enemies.

This is obviously a complex and controversial situation. In my own personal political views, I stand with Israel in this battle and think Hamas has acted provocatively and shamefully, as the terrorist organization it is. Both the people of Gaza and Israel have suffered greatly as a result. However, I detest violence and take my stand ultimately as a follower of Jesus in refuting violent means as a long term solution. I find the statement and manifesto above to be clear in stating a Jesus-shaped way. If they could be combined with sustained, creative, and imaginative leadership and action in working for peace and justice, perhaps we could find hope.

As I write this, I read that Israel agreed to extend the truce another 24 hours, but Hamas is not agreeing. Kyrie eleison.