For a long time, I’ve been in love with the story of the woman at the well, who is known by the name Photini in church tradition (also spelled Photine). It’s a story about a woman, a woman who is traveling alone to fetch water from the well. Jesus sits with her and chats for a bit, a fact which confuses a lot of people because of her ethnicity, religious affiliation, and perhaps even her gender.

Then Jesus does something remarkable.

In answer to a question about where people should worship (yes, they were arguing about that 2,000 years ago), Jesus gives two answers. First, he says, if you really want to play that game, we win because the salvation story belongs to Israel. But then he explains that this question isn’t really all that important because the Jerusalem temple would fall just as the one in Samaria had around 128/110 years before Christ.

Instead, Jesus invites her into a kind of relationship that transcends geographical location or even strict allegiance to the Law. Jesus doesn’t tell her to repent, become ritualistically clean, and travel to Jerusalem to worship. Instead, he says she can worship now, in that very hour, in Spirit and Truth.

That is, she can bow down to the Father through the Son, who is Truth, and in the Holy Spirit.

It is a Trinitarian worship that is available to anyone made in the image of God.

The “Good Samaritan,” for instance, fulfilled the Law by loving his neighbor despite his other deficiencies concerning the Law. He offered true worship while the priest and Levite, who had the Law memorized, worshipped in vain despite having access to the oracles of God.

People outside of the Law and outside of earshot of the Gospel could still fulfill the Law through love because it is a Law written on the heart (c.f. Romans 2:9-16; Romans 13:8-10).

Watch the video for a look into my thesis research class.

Next week, or this week if you are a paid subscriber or member on YouTube, you can watch the vlog in which I begin writing the introduction!

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So treat me, even dead,
As a man who has a place
To go, and something to do.
Don’t muck up my face

With wax and powder and rouge
As one would prettify
An unalterable fact
To give the bitterness the lie.

Admit the native earth
My body is and will be,
Admit its freedom and
Its changeability.

Dress me in the clothes
I wore in the day’s round.
Lay me in a wooden box.
Put the box in the ground.

From “Testament” by Wendell Berry

Wendell Berry starts this poem with a request: “Dear relatives and friends, when my last breath // Grows large and free in air, don’t call it death.”

For several years, Wendell Berry has been my favorite poet and among my favorite writers of nonfiction and fiction, though what novels he wrote could hardly be called fiction.

From walks through the woods and afternoons in Greek class with Jayber Crow to wandering down to where the great heron feeds, Berry has been a constant companion of mine. His poetry books are dog-eared and underlined, and other books of his have been lent out to trustworthy friends.

Last night, I learned that Wendell Berry has finally reached his goal. His “body cannot now be improved upon” and he has “found a good solution” and is on his “way to the roots.” As he travels to places we do not yet know, his memory will remain alive and well to those who loved him and cherished his writing.

I first became aquatinted with Berry and his work several years ago on a hiking retreat led by my good friend Aram Mitchell. He had us memorize “The Peace of Wild Things,” and I’ve thought of that poem more days than not as I’ve wandered beneath “day-blind stars.”

“When despair for the world grows in me…”

As my friends Greg and Jordan stood with me on a rock overlooking the St. Croix River, we named the rock Wendell, and said farewell to it for the last time last October.

Now, I’ll read his poetry and other literary works with a new eye, an eye aware of the impermanence of life and the finality of a life well lived. There will be no more poems written, no more critiques of modern agriculture from his typewriter will blossom, and the history of the town of Port William is set in stone.

If you’d like to visit some of my favorite poems of his, here is a short list taken from Collected Poems (1957-1982):

“A Music” (1964)

“Against the War in Vietnam” (1968)

“The Peace of Wild Things” (1968)

“Do Not Be Ashamed” (1968)

“Window Poems” (1968)

“To a Siberian Woodsman” (1968)

“Independence Day” (1970)

“Song in a Year of Catastrophe” (1970)

“Prayers and Sayings of the Mad Farmer” (1970)

“Breaking” (1973)

“Her First Calf” (1973)

“The River Bridged and Forgot” (1982)

“The Gift of Gravity” (1982)

Some of these will be peaceful, others infuriating. As you read, don’t think that he is talking about others; try to see how he is addressing your restfulness, your violence, or your pride. Allow his words of peace to fall over you like a fresh rain, and allow his challenging words to pierce your heart and see what truth lies therein.

If you're interested in the other works of Berry, Nick Offerman, who played Ron Swanson in Parks and Rec, has narrated some of his books. I like The Need to Be Whole.

Thank you, Wendell Berry. Safe travels.

But your wrongdoings have caused a separation between you and your God, And your sins have hidden His face from you so that He does not hear. Isaiah 59:2

What does it mean to be separated from God? What does God “not hearing” mean?

To get to the bottom of this, we need to first address what it doesn’t mean, and to do this, we need to look at Jesus.

The Incarnation as the Real Presence of God

In an eloquent quote about the nature of Jesus, Origen said,

When, therefore, we see in him some things so human that they appear in no way to differ from the common frailty of mortals, and some things so divine that they are appropriate to nothing else but the primal and ineffable nature of divinity, the human understanding with its narrow limits is baffled, and, struck with amazement at so mighty a wonder, knows not which way to turn, what to hold to, or whither to take itself. If it thinks of God, it sees a man; if it thinks of a man, it beholds one returning from the dead with spoils after vanquishing the kingdom of death.

John Behr, The Way to Nicaea, vol. I, The Formation of Christian Theology (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001), 198.

Jesus is both human and divine. His infancy doesn’t take away from the glory of his divinity, and his divinity doesn’t take away the reality of the cross.

When we contemplate Jesus, we contemplate God.

As was said in Isaiah 7 and quoted in Matthew 1, Jesus would be known as “Immanuel” which means “God with us.”

When Jesus turned water into wine, he did it as God in the flesh. When Jesus conversed with the woman at the well, he did it as God in the flesh. When Jesus touched lepers, ate with sinners, and saved the woman caught in adultery, he did it as God in the flesh.

So if sin does separate us from God, then what was Jesus doing for thirty-three years: born among, raised among, and crucified among sinners.

Apparently “separation” from God doesn’t necessarily mean “distance” because Jesus was close, even sometimes making contact, with sinners.

Shifting the focus to God’s ears for a moment, let’s keep in mind that Jesus’ ears are God’s ears, and Jesus certainly physically heard many sinners throughout his life. This would have included the awestruck voices of the shepherds to the murderous cries of the mob. So “hearing” doesn’t mean that God can’t literally hear, as if the cries of sinners are inaudible.

Presence as the Mechanism of the Atonement

Before we explore the real meaning behind “separation” and “does not hear” let’s take a moment to see how it is the persistent divinity of Jesus that makes the atonement work as it does.

Just as Jesus’ holiness was not diminished through the incarnation, nor his glory from having to be cleaned up as a baby, his divine nature remained intact through the trial of the crucifixion.

As a human, Jesus was susceptible to death; as God, Jesus could not die.

When death swallowed this paradox, it was like the big fish swallowing Jonah: the resurrection was inevitable. Death could not digest the Lord.1

For example, in Galatians 3:13, Paul quotes the law when it says that everyone who hangs on a tree is cursed. Paul may have quoted similar laws about drinking from the unclean bucket of a Samaritan woman, touching lepers, or coming into direct contact with a hemorrhaging woman. But in these other cases, Jesus was not contaminated by the Samaritan woman, the lepers, or the woman with the issue of blood; instead, his holiness spread outwards in what some have called eucontamination.2

So when Jesus hangs on a tree, he becomes a curse, but since God cannot become a curse, God did what he did with Baalam’s curse and turned it into a blessing, which, in the case of Jesus means the redemption of those under the Law (Nehemiah 13:2).

When Jesus offered himself, he “became sin,” but since it cannot be that God should be called sin, he “condemned sin in the flesh” and became righteousness (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:21; Romans 8:3; 1 Corinthians 1:30).

When Jesus died, darkness covered the face of the earth, but since it cannot be said that there is darkness in God, the darkness could not overcome him (1 John 1:5; John 1:4-5).

When Jesus died, he entered into death, but since Jesus is the resurrection and eternal life is in God, he could not undergo decay, and death could not hold him (John 11:25-26; Acts 2:27-28).

Thus, Paul could look at the cross and know the outcome of the plight of the first century church:

But we have this treasure in earthen containers, so that the extraordinary greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying around in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 2 Corinthians 4:7–10

Separation in the Face of Presence

There were many with whom Jesus interacted, primarily religious and political leaders, who, though standing face to face with God, did not perceive that the one whom they had the pleasure of seeing was God or was, at the least, their Savior.

Unlike the sinners, unclean, and forgotten that Jesus forgave, healed, and welcomed home, the religious leaders met Jesus’ love and grace with vitriol and jealously.

They picked up stones to stone him, they plotted to kill him, and they tried to trick him with bad questions and unfounded assumptions.

They were physically present with Jesus, but they were separate. They asked trick questions and made accusations, but he refused to hear them. Instead, he asked questions, avoided their traps, refused to speak, or spoke in parables so that “hearing they may hear and not hear.”

“Show us a sign,” they say.

But He answered and said to them, “An evil and adulterous generation craves a sign; and so no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah the prophet…” Matthew 12:39

They were with Jesus, but separated from him. They asked Jesus for a sign, but he would not answer their request.

They resisted his love, forgiveness, and grace.

Back to Isaiah 59:2

Returning to Isaiah 59, having been illuminated by the Gospel, let’s see what’s going on in the text.

Behold, the LORD’S hand is not so short That it cannot save; Nor is His ear so dull That it cannot hear. Isaiah 59:1

Here we see something interesting: God could save and God could hear, but what has happened?

But your wrongdoings have caused a separation between you and your God, And your sins have hidden His face from you so that He does not hear. Isaiah 59:2

Instead, the wrongdoings or sin (what sin?) has separated them from God. This is what had happened to the religious leaders. What sin had kept them from seeing Jesus as he is?

For your hands are defiled with blood, And your fingers with wrongdoing; Your lips have spoken deceit, Your tongue mutters wickedness. Isaiah 59:3

Violence, deceit, and wickedness.

In Matthew 23, this is what Jesus condemns the scribes and Pharisees for. For example, “So you testify against yourselves, that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets” (Matthew 23:31).

It’s not that God’s presence wasn’t available to them. It’s not that sacrifices couldn’t be offered. It’s that they wanted to keep their power, their wealth, and their traditions while still maintaining the favor of God.

No one sues righteously and no one pleads honestly. They trust in confusion and speak lies; They conceive trouble and give birth to disaster. Isaiah 59:4

How can you see the Light when you prefer the darkness?

In this case, whatever requests were being made of God were being made from their pride and violence (cf. James 4:3). It wouldn't be just for God to hear such requests.

…Nor will they cover themselves with their works; Their works are works of wrongdoing, And an act of violence is in their hands. Their feet run to evil, And they hurry to shed innocent blood; Their thoughts are thoughts of wrongdoing, Devastation and destruction are in their paths. Isaiah 59:5–7

They “cover themselves with their works.” Could this be an allusion to Genesis 3? Instead of being clothed with peace, love, and humility, they are clothed in arrogance. Even if God were before them, they couldn't see.

We also have again a reference to shedding innocent blood, something that the religious and political leaders would do to Jesus.

They do not know the way of peace, And there is no justice in their tracks; They have made their paths crooked, Whoever walks on them does not know peace. Isaiah 59:8

Jesus possibly alludes to this passage in Luke 19:42-44. They had chosen violence, and violence would come upon them. This caused Jesus to weep.

Isaiah then describes the plight of the people under these kinds of conditions, and he cries out for justice.

Therefore justice is far from us, And righteousness does not reach us; We hope for light, but there is darkness, For brightness, but we walk in gloom…We hope for justice, but there is none; For salvation, but it is far from us. Isaiah 59:9–11

What is to be done? Isaiah confesses the people’s sin.

For our wrongful acts have multiplied before You, And our sins have testified against us; For our wrongful acts are with us, And we know our wrongdoings: Offending and denying the LORD, And turning away from our God, Speaking oppression and revolt, Conceiving and uttering lying words from the heart. Isaiah 59:12–13

Why are the people separated from God? Because God forsook them or turned away from them? Here we have the answer. "Offending and denying the Lord, and turning away from our God.”

Justice is turned back, And righteousness stands far away; For truth has stumbled in the street, And uprightness cannot enter. Isaiah 59:14

The people refuse justice, and they turn away truth and righteousness.

Even those who want to do right are kept from doing so:

Truth is lacking, And one who turns aside from evil makes himself a prey. Now the Lord saw, And it was displeasing in His sight that there was no justice. Isaiah 59:15

This situation is not something God is pleased with. God wants to see a change.

And He saw that there was no one, And was amazed that there was not one to intercede; Then His own arm brought salvation to Him, And His righteousness upheld Him. He put on righteousness like a breastplate, And a helmet of salvation on His head; And He put on garments of vengeance for clothing And wrapped Himself with zeal as a cloak. Isaiah 59:16–17

Instead of standing aloof, unable to overcome the separation between himself and his people, God comes down to save his people. Jesus dresses himself in righteousness and salvation, and brings judgment and justice.

According to their deeds, so will He repay: Wrath to His adversaries, retribution to His enemies; To the coastlands He will deal retribution. So they will fear the name of the LORD from the west And His glory from the rising of the sun, For He will come like a rushing stream Which the wind of the LORD drives. Isaiah 59:18–19

And who does Jesus judge? His enemies. The “principalities and powers.” The “thief” who “kills, steals, and destroys.” The “ruler of this world.” That is, the one who slayed God’s people with a lie.

“A Redeemer will come to Zion, And to those in Jacob who turn from wrongdoing,” declares the LORD. Isaiah 59:20

Redemption has come instead of a curse (Revelation 22:3).

“As for Me, this is My covenant with them,” says the LORD: “My Spirit who is upon you, and My words which I have put in your mouth shall not depart from your mouth, nor from the mouth of your offspring, nor from the mouth of your offspring’s offspring,” says the LORD, “from now and forever.” Isaiah 59:21

The Holy Spirit is then given as a token of the eternal redemption and reconciliation revealed by Jesus and wonderfully demonstrated through the atonement.

Final Thoughts

There are two ways to be present with someone just as there are two ways to hear someone.

We know when someone is physically with us but behaves as if they are somewhere else. They feel distant, and their mind wanders.

We also know when someone is hearing us but not hearing us, either through misunderstanding or distraction. We may even known what it’s like for our parents or guardians to not “hear” our requests for bad plans.

The same is true with God. “The whole earth is filled with God’s glory” according to Isaiah, yet not everyone sees this glory. The Lord is present, but not everyone feels this presence.

This is the purpose of the Good News. It untangles the lies and distortion of the thief. It tells the truth about who God is. It reveals how God views humanity. And it lets us taste the true presence of God.

When Jesus said that he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, this is what he meant. He is the Way we can experience the real presence of God. He is the Truth that undoes the lies and deceit. And he is the Life that persists through death.

Having worked hard to raise my cholesterol through regularly eating red meat, fried eggs, bacon, cinnamon rolls, and whole milk, I now have to reverse course and undo 33 years of commitment to eating whatever I feel like.

Okay, I jest.

In reality, this news is really scary, and I’ve been wondering when I would hear something like this from my healthcare professional.

My family has a history of having hearts that don’t cooperate with a biblical lifespan of three score and ten, so you can add that to the ongoing list of unscriptural things I have going on.

But this means that my running has become that more important, and it also means I need a serious shakeup in my daily diet.

This means no more walks to the taco truck to get asada fries, visits to the pizza buffet, or fried eggs and bacon on toast for lunch with a tall glass of milk.

Instead, I’ll be switching to a diet of nuts, oats, lintels, a range of fruits and vegetables, and the occasional fish. As my friend O. B. told me, this isn’t introducing a new diet, it’s a lifestyle change. This means changing the way I view food, exercise, and managing stress.

If my lifestyle change doesn’t affect the cholesterol levels in a meaningful way, I may be looking at medicine, and I really don’t want to take another daily pill if I can help it.

So, let’s talk food.

I have a book by ultramarathoner Scott Jurek called Eat and Run where he offers some of his favorite recipes, all of which are plant based.

If you have a heart-healthy diet, what are your favorite recipes?

What snacks do you prefer?

Any resources you can share?

What are some of your favorite dishes to order when you eat out?

Any tips, tricks, or ideas that have proven to help lower your LDL cholesterol?

And also, when I asked you to pray for my running habit, I thought I was just asking you to pray for general wellness, good mentality, and commitment to habits, but now I see I was asking you to pray for so much more.

So, allow me to reword my prayer request:

Will you pray that I can commit to this lifestyle change, surround myself with people who support it, and trust that the natural medicines in food that God created will help to make my heart healthy and strong?

Thank you.

So as you know, I’ve been gearing up to write my thesis. It was my plan to start after Cayden went into school a couple of weeks ago, but then I had an idea: what if I document the process?

This serves a few functions: (1) it’s fun, (2) I can share what I learn with you, (3) you can get an inside look into the creative process, and (4) I can encourage other students in my cohort who are/will be writing their thesis!

So far I’ve posted a two videos: one is a quick, 30-second time-lapse of me in my office with a voiceover quickly introducing the project. The other is a 7:45 long vlog introducing the requirements and my topic.

Here’s the trailer:

Here is the vlog:

As a special treat to paid subscribers, I will release the next video a week early. Thank you for your support and love over the years. It’s my plan to release a video each week covering each component of the thesis: introduction, three chapters and their subheadings, and the conclusion. I’ll continue to release videos early for paid subscribers here and for members on YouTube.

If need be, I’d be happy to answer questions along the way about my methodology, resources, and interpretations.

I’m excited to invite you on this journey!

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When choosing a Bible translation, there is a lot to consider: (1) who was involved in the translation process, (2) what is their translation philosophy, (3) does the translation read well, (4) what Greek text do the translators use, and (5) does it offer alternative translations in footnotes when there are multiple reasonable choices?

As to the second question on translation philosophy, there are basically two routes you can take: formal equivalence, where the translators try to translate each Greek word with an equivalent English word as much as possible, and dynamic equivalence, where the translators seek to faithfully capture the meaning of the Greek without necessarily stressing a word-for-word equivalence.

Primarily for this reason, I moved from the KJV to the NKJV to the NASB95.

I stuck with the NASB95 for about five years before the Lockman Foundation released a new update in 2020. In 2021, I purchased it on Logos Bible Software, but it didn’t have the Greek text to go along with it just yet, and since the word study tools and other features are tied to the Greek text, I didn’t have any real reason to start using it yet.

Then, the NRSV released their updated version called the NRSVue. This version tends towards dynamic equivalence rather than formal equivalence, and, having taken a few classes in Greek and the history of the Bible, I saw the strength in this translation philosophy and experimented with switching to it.

When I began taking Greek classes in graduate school, I swapped back to the NASB95 and began using it almost exclusively again, but just the other day, a friend of mine was shopping for a Bible and asked me my opinion on the 2020 update of the NASB. I remembered trying it and not switching, but I couldn't remember why.

I started going back over it in my mind, and I realized that I didn’t have any good reason not to make the switch because Logos had released the reverse interlinear, which means a lot of my notes and word study tools are now available to use, so why not switch?

Who is Involved in the Translation?

When the NASB announced they were releasing an update, another group announced an alternative update to the NASB. This was released in 2021, and it is called the Legacy Standard Bible. It was translated by “a group of biblically qualified, faithful men from the Master’s University and Seminary.” Master’s Seminary is located in Santa Clarita, California. John MacArthur began serving as the president in 1985, and was the longest serving president in school history.

The 2020 update of the NASB was translated by a number of scholars from a variety of universities. This immediately stands out to me. I really enjoy Robert Altar’s translation of the Hebrew Bible. I also enjoy Scot McKnight’s translation of the New Testament. But I take what each says with a grain of salt because a translation by one person or even by one entity appears to me to lack the checks and balances that a range of scholars could potentially provide.

As an aside, the NRSVue provides a similarly diverse range of scholars who represent a number of universities.

So the NASB2020 stands out to me because of the diversity of the translators from a range of institutions, but it also appeals to me because of an important choice they made.

Translating Adelphoi

Notice these two translations of 1 Corinthians 14:26:

What is the outcome then, brothers? When you assemble, each one has a psalm, has a teaching, has a revelation, has a tongue, has a translation. Let all things be done for edification. 1 Corinthians 14:26, LSB

What is the outcome then, brothers and sisters? When you assemble, each one has a psalm, has a teaching, has a revelation, has a tongue, has an interpretation. All things are to be done for edification. 1 Corinthians 14:26, NASB

When learning Spanish in high school, students are told that if a group of people are being described, a masculine noun is used if one man is present in the group. The same is true in this passage. Though the congregation is made up of men and women, brothers and sisters, the Greek word adelphoi is used, which is a plural masculine noun as one would expect.

In English, however, using “men” to describe a mixed group can be confusing to a modern audience. Since the goal of translation is to clearly communicate the meaning of the text, opting for “brothers and sisters” in translating the plural adelphoi when appropriate makes a lot of sense to me.

And this “when appropriate” is important. The NASB website has this to say about their decision to make this change:

An important guiding principle was to only expand the phrasing to specifically include women if it was indisputable that the original audience would have understood the text to mean women were, in fact, included. Because the goal of this update is to make sure the verses are accurately understood in English, it is interesting to note that not every change results in the broadening of the language to include women.

Lockman Foundation (this link has a lot of good info on the NASB update)

Going back to 1 Corinthians 14:26, notice the implications of the passage:

What is the outcome then, brothers? When you assemble, each one has a psalm, has a teaching, has a revelation, has a tongue, has a translation. Let all things be done for edification. 1 Corinthians 14:26, LSB

What is the outcome then, brothers and sisters? When you assemble, each one has a psalm, has a teaching, has a revelation, has a tongue, has an interpretation. All things are to be done for edification. 1 Corinthians 14:26, NASB

If you were to ask someone who was unaware of the way that plural masculine nouns are used and had them read the LSB, who would they say brought a psalm, teaching, revelation, tongue, or translation before the congregation? Perhaps they would say it was just the brothers.

In the NASB translation, the sisters are included in this action of bringing forward psalms, teachings, revelations, etc. How, then, would one understand the latter part of 1 Corinthians 14 or Paul’s comments in 1 Timothy 2 concerning the role of women in the Christian community? This reading of “brothers and sisters” forces the reader to consider more closely the meaning and context of Paul’s words and to allow for nuance that may not be readily considered when “and sisters” is excluded.

Final Thoughts

While retaining the formal equivalence philosophy, the NASB update has sought to update the language for better readability, and while these changes seem minuscule, I look forward to exploring them as the weeks go on.

As for the LSB, I have friends who use it and enjoy it. They like that the word Yahweh is used instead of LORD throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. They also appreciate how it attempts to use the same English word for the same Greek word, as with the word doulos, which is translated “slave” instead of both “slave” and “servant.”

And what about the NRSVue? I didn’t mind the NRSVue. Again, I have a lot of friends who use it and enjoy it. My main problem with it was that I was just so familiar with the language of the NASB that I found some of the wording and phrasing awkward. Sometimes, and I can’t possibly find an example now, I thought that some of the choices were strangely archaic, but that might just be me.

Regardless, when it comes to reading the NASB or ESV or KJV or NRSVue or many other versions, one thing is true for all of them: they have pointed many people towards the living Word, the one who was with God from the beginning, and that is ultimately the point.

And though I just may switch to the updated NASB, one thing will remain true: I will continue to consult a variety of translations from a range of traditions and philosophies because the larger the sample size, the better sense we can get of what’s going on in the original language behind the translation.

“I do not think your law was made for such a chance,” said Aragorn.

J. R. R. Tolkien, “The Riders of Rohan,” The Two Towers.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were in pursuit of a band of orcs who had kidnapped their two halfling friends, Merry and Pippin. As they charged across the fields of Rohan, they saw a pillar of smoke close to the Fangorn Forest. It seemed as if someone or something else had gotten to the orcs before them. Legolas spotted them first, a company of horsemen coming swiftly across the field following the orc trail backwards to catch any escapees.

After making their presence known, the riders encircled the three members of the fellowship of the ring. Éomer, the Third Marshall of the Riddermark, had a problem: does he force Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to come with him to see Théoden, King of the Mark, to gain permission to cross the lands or break the law and allow them through to see if they could find sign of their friends.

In the debate, Aragorn delivered the final blow: “I do not think your law was made for such a chance.”

I love it when the novels I’m reading intersect with the things I’m studying. I love it even more when I remember to make an effort to elaborate on the connection.

Jesus and the Law

On a number of different occasions, Jesus had run ins with the interpreters of the Law who saw his miracles and travel as an affront to the mandated Sabbath rest. Jesus’ response in each situation was basically the same: “I do not think your law was made for such a chance.”

For example, when the disciples were picking grain on the Sabbath, some told Jesus, “Look, your disciples do what is not lawful to do on the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:2). Jesus responded by reminding them how David ate the sacred bread despite it being unlawful to do so. The law wasn’t made with that situation in mind just as the laws of Rohan didn't foresee a man, a dwarf, and an elf traveling together in pursuit of a party of orcs who had kidnapped two halflings.

Jesus said, “But if you had known what this means, ‘I desire compassion, and not a sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent” (Matthew 12:7).

Apparently, compassion takes precedent over strict and “consistent” interpretation and application.

Jesus continues, “What man is there among you who has a sheep, and if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will he not take hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable then is a man than a sheep! So then, it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:11–12).

Aragorn might have said, “Wouldn’t you riders of Rohan wish to freely traverse land and sea to recover one of your horses or companions?”

Interpreting the Bible with Compassion

When we interpret the Scripture, do we look more like Jesus and Aragorn or the strict interpreters of the Law and Éomer? In the end, Éomer was willing to let the travelers pass, but in the Gospel narratives, sacrifice was preferred over mercy, and Jesus was put to death.

Having the courage to say “I do not think your law was made for such a chance” provokes various responses: “you aren’t taking the Bible seriously,” “you must speak where the Bible speaks and be silent where the Bible is silent,” or perhaps “we must uphold a Biblical view of XYZ and must have authority for ABC.”

And these questions are good to ask because conversation and debate can help us reach a better understanding, but they can also miss the point and be taken to ridiculous or even unChrsitlike extremes, leading to violence, hatred, or fear and anxiety.

If I’m going to be as self-critical as possible, then let’s take nonviolence as an example. I believe strongly that the Gospel of Jesus can and will bring such a radical change about in the world that war will be unnecessary. Passages like Isaiah 2 envision the “mountain of the house of the Lord” being a place where weapons of war are turned into agricultural tools. Hebrews 12:18ff and similar passages that compare the church to the house of the Lord, the new Jerusalem, or the temple show that the first followers of Jesus believed that prophecies like this have their realization in Jesus and the community of faith surrounding him.

Jesus himself refused to become the violent Messiah people wanted; instead, he came as the one they needed, going willingly to the Cross, warning Peter about cyclical violence, and modeling sacrificial death and love.

When it comes to my own personal safety, I feel strongly convicted to walk in the path of Jesus. I would hope that my own personal death, if I was indeed brave enough to follow this conviction, would be a Gospel sermon that would lead the perpetrator to Christ. I know where I stand, and I believe that true justice would be for the violent offender to be pierced through with the Word of God and to learn to live in the reconciliation Jesus came to give.

In this case, I don’t see that I have a “right” to defend myself anymore than Jesus, Stephen, or any of the early martyrs had a “right” to defend themselves. But I hold this as a matter of personal conviction, and don’t bind this philosophy on anyone else. And as Mike Tyson is alleged to have said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.”

Inevitably, when I speak of such a hypothetical, which is about as likely to happen as the following, someone will propose an alternative scenario where someone with evil intent breaks into my home and threatens the family. What then?

Indeed, what then?

To the best of my ability, I would try to neutralize the situation creatively with the intention of preserving the lives of everyone involved, but what if that path is rendered impossible as far as my judgment can tell?

“I do not think your law was made for such a chance.”

Perhaps Aragorn’s words ring true here as well.

When it comes to my own personal safety, I really feel like I would rather step into eternity than send someone else there who has not yet realized the reconciliation that is in Christ. The Gospel is so beautiful, and I would want them to come to know it. Who knows? They might be a Paul-like person who takes good news to the world. It would be a shame had Stephen nailed him with a stone before breathing his last.

But as for other’s personal safety, especially my children, and only if I judged it to be absolutely necessary, I think I’d have to enlist a millstone or two and look for the nearest sea.

A Confession

I have to say, this is incredibly hard to write. It’s difficult to even allow myself to imagine such a situation, even one that is most likely never to occur. It’s also difficult to openly contradict such an important ideal, but I felt it was necessary to contradict something important to myself before I pointed any fingers.

“I do not think your law was made for such a chance.”

But let’s see how this might be applicable:

We’ll start with an easy one: when Moses commanded the people to keep the Sabbath, did he have in mind one discovering an ox or sheep that had fallen into the ditch?

When Moses commanded the people to tithe, did he have in mind a woman with only two mites?

When Paul said an elder should be the husband of one wife, did he have in mind a man whose wife might die?

To borrow from my friend Dallas in his paper on “Graded Absolutism,” when the disciples warned against divorce and separation, did they have in mind situations of violence, neglect, and abuse?

Or how about these popular questions—the wording of which doesn’t necessarily represent my own views.

When Moses said to not steal, did he have in mind a widow taking crops from the corners of a farmer’s field who refuses to abide by Leviticus 19:9-10?

Or a more popular example, what of the man who steals a loaf of bread from a multibillion dollar company to feed his family?

When Paul spoke of the role of women in the Christian community, did he have in mind a world where a woman in leadership might aid the spread of the Gospel instead of inhibit it? (Note, there are a lot of assumptions here.)

When Paul addressed same sex sexual activity, did he have in mind a consensual relationship between two adults, or was he specifically referring to a practice rooted in lust, power, violence, and idolatry? (Note, this is one of the more popular arguments in discussions centered around the three New Testament passages that are typically cited as relevant. For one side, see Rubel Shelly and Preston Sprinkle. For the other, see James V. Brownson and Michael B. Regele.)

When one wishes to be baptized, but is unable to be fully immersed due to time, physical capability, or availability, is he simply out of luck?

So this question Aragorn poses is quite relevant to us today. It’s a strategy Jesus used in interpreting Scripture, and it is one that we employ consciously or unconsciously. But what is the answer?

As usual, and this will come as no surprise, sometimes we have to make a decision and look for the fruit. A bad tree cannot produce good fruit, and a good tree cannot produce bad fruit. If I see the fruit of the Spirit in someone’s life, then I see someone led by the Spirit, and if I see someone led by the Spirit, I see a child of God, and if I see a child of God, I see a sibling in Christ.

What’s the fruit of picking up an ox on the Sabbath? Maybe it would be useful for many more crops that could help to provide for the poor people who glean the fields.

What’s the fruit of tithing to a woman who only has two mites left instead of lavishly giving money to the temple treasury in order to show off? Well, the woman is a stone in the temple of God, and to support her would be to help Christ himself.

What would be the fruit of serving under an elder whose spouse had died? I suppose one would have to wait and see, but I was blessed during such an occasion.

That’s the thing about fruit: sometimes it takes a while to come in, and always jumping to quick judgments doesn't allow for proper discernment.

In the case of Éomer and Aragorn, Éomer took a chance. He allowed him to chase after his friends, and he even provided horses for the three strangers. In the end, this bore fruit for the people of Rohan in the battle of Helm’s Deep and beyond. Éomer took a chance on compassion over sacrifice, and it worked out.

“I do not think your law was made for such a chance,” said Aragorn.

Taking a brief survey of my most referenced versions, this word is translated in Ephesians 1:10 as “summing up” (NASB95), “gather up” (NRSVue), “recapitulated” (McKnight), “bring unity to” (NIV), and “bring…together under the authority of” (NLT).

But what does Ephesians 1:10 actually say?

He made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His kind intention which He purposed in Him with a view to an administration suitable to the fullness of the times, that is, the summing up of all things in Christ, things in the heavens and things on the earth. Ephesians 1:9–101

According to Paul, it is according to God’s kind intention (NASB95), consistent with his delight (McNight), and in accordance with his good pleasure (NIV) to sum up, gather up, recapitulate, bring unity to, and bring together everything in Christ. What things? All things: things in heaven and things on earth, which pretty much covers everything.

This, to me, seems like really good news, and if this is what Paul means by predestination, then count me in.

But what does this word mean? John Behr, in his book The Way to Nicaea, tells us that this Greek word was used in legal settings to describe the process of summing up the entire argument by bringing together all of the details into a succinct statement to make a big impact on the judge.2

In this way, Jesus brings the whole story together, from Adam to Abraham to Moses and all the prophets. God’s entire plan of redemption and reconciliation is summed up in Jesus once and for all.

Let’s change directions now and focus on us: is there a way for us to celebrate, live out, and actively spread this message of recapitulation?

Paul’s Other Use of this Word

In Romans 13:9, Paul uses this same word in the present tense, to say,

Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another; for he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law. For this, “You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,” and if there is any other commandment, it is summed up in this saying, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. Romans 13:8–10

Twice Paul says that love fulfills the Law, and once Paul says that it sums up all the commands.

That is, love is the argument that brings everything else together. Love is hitting equals on a calculator or enter on a spreadsheet. Love is executing thousands of lines of code. Love is checkmate. Love is the overlook that called us out into the woods on the hike. Love is the finish line. Love is the note that resolves the melody.

So how do we participate in the story of Christ? We participate in it through love.

Now, what is love?

God’s Definition of Love

As a parent, I know that my love for my children means saying “no.” “No, don’t touch that stove.” “No, you can’t have a popsicle and an ice-cream sandwich before bed.” That sort of thing.

In the past, some have resisted this teaching of Paul because they misunderstand love. They think that love means encouraging apathy or celebrating destructive actions. Love means encouraging others to do whatever they want to do regardless of the consequences to those around them. In this passage in Romans 13, though, Paul says that “love does no wrong to a neighbor.”

So when I echo Paul and John in saying that all that is required of us is faith and love, then I’m not advocating for any of the loose definitions of love that some suppose; instead, I’m advocating for a love that looks like Jesus on the Cross.

John writes, “We know love by this, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren” (1 John 3:16).

It is on this basis that Paul can offer his multifaceted definition of Love:

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails… (1 Corinthians 13:4–8a).

When John says that all those who love are born of God and know God, this is what he means. When Paul says that love fulfills the Law, this is what he’s talking about. When Paul writes in Ephesians 1 about God’s kind intention and good pleasure and plan to recapitulate everything in Christ, this is the kind of thing he has in mind.

How are all of the good times and bad times, ups and downs, joys and sorrows, and everything in between summed up? They’re summed up in Christ through the love he has shown us. And it is an honor and joy to be able to participate in this story of self-sacrificial, kenotic love.

He writes,

The question of truth, with which theology is concerned throughout, is the question as to the agreement of the Church’s distinctive talk about God with the being of the Church. The criterion of past, future, and therefore present Christian utterance is thus the being of the Church, namely, Jesus Christ, God in His gracious revealing and reconciling address to man.

Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, Vol. 1, Part 1 (Hendrickson Publishers, 2010), p. 4

Upon this basis, Barth asks three questions:

1. Does Christian utterance derive from Him?

2. Does it lead to Him?

3. Is it conformable to Him?

Barth argues, “None of these questions can be put apart, but each is to be put independently and with all possible force.”

Such a process, however, is not very comfortable or easy. One of the most difficult parts is laying aside one’s own biases, and this means being aware of what they are, which is a task in and of itself.

Here’s my interpretation of these three questions.

Does Christian utterance derive from Him?

Christ can either speak to us directly or through someone or something. Paul affirms that the Scriptures are inspired by God, and Peter tells us that it was the Spirit of Christ who was in the prophets (2 Timothy 3:16-17; 1 Peter 1:11). The four accounts of the Gospel give us the words of Jesus, often in red. And Jesus promised that the Holy Spirit would lead his disciples into all truth, and we have access to some of their writings and teachings (John 16:13).

So one way to understand this question is by asking if a teaching is “Scriptural” or “Biblical.” And the answer is typically dependent upon human ingenuity and skill in logic and debate. But we must ask if conclusions that are reached in this way are derived from Jesus or from our craftiest minds.

Another way of seeking this answer might be to look at church history. What did those whom the apostles taught teach? And what did the church who heard those who were taught by those who were taught by those who were taught by those who were taught by those that the apostles taught do, say, and teach? However, this view can quickly become like the telephone game, and depending on the default language of your device, whether it be Latin or Greek, the answers you get might differ wildly.

How, then, do we know that a teaching derives from Jesus?

I think the answer lies in the next two questions.

Does it lead to Him?

Teaching that derives from Jesus leads to Jesus.

Jesus says, “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me” (John 10:27). And how do we know if someone is following Jesus?

If you’ve read my blog for long, you probably already know where I’m going.

Jesus also said,

You will know them by their fruits. Grapes are not gathered from thorn bushes nor figs from thistles, are they? So every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot produce bad fruit, nor can a bad tree produce good fruit. Matthew 7:16–18

Christian utterance that is derived from Jesus will lead to Jesus, and we know what leads to Jesus because the results look like Jesus, and by that I mean the results are sacrificial love.

Of course, this is what is meant by the last question.

Is it conformable to Him?

In Colossians 3, Paul warns his listeners to avoid various kinds of evil: anger, wrath, slander, malice, and deceit, to name a few. He then says,

[You] have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him— a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all. Colossians 3:10–11

Christian utterance is derived from Jesus if it leads to Jesus, and we know who has been lead to Jesus based on whether or not they look like Jesus. And what does Jesus look like?

Paul starts with a big issue for his churches: those who look like Jesus are identified by their faith, not by their nationality, ethnicity, social status, or economic worth. One who is in Christ does not judge based on these criteria.

So if someone claims to be speaking on behalf of Christ, but their message is one of hatred, discrimination, and division, then their utterances are not derived from Christ.

But that’s not all Paul is concerned with. He goes on,

So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. Colossians 3:12–14

What does “putting on Christ” look like?

Compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, forbearance, forgiveness, and love.

From this, we can work backwards.

Who is telling the truth about who Jesus is?

Well, do we see compassion? Do we see unity? Do we see kindness? Do we see honesty? Do we see a love that looks like the Cross?

Yes? Then the teaching has led people to Jesus.

No? Then the teaching has led people away from Jesus.

If the teaching has led people to Jesus, then it is derived from him.

If the teaching has not led people to Jesus. then it is not derived from him.

Where it Gets Interesting

What if someone says, “I agree that this church bears the fruit of compassion, gentleness, patience, love, and all of the other virtues listed by Paul, but they do not conform to my interpretation of the Scripture. I can show through carefully selected passages, debate charts, and a few syllogisms that they are wrong and in danger of hellfire.”

or

“I have compared this church’s practice to generations of tradition, and it is obvious that they have strayed from the ancient ways.”

My answer?

A bad tree cannot produce good fruit, and a good tree cannot produce bad fruit.

What if some of their teachings are demonstrably inconsistent or incorrect? That may be, but the Holy Spirit is at work in that congregation, and the Spirit leads the children of God. Wherever God has a son or daughter, there I have a brother or sister. We know trees by their fruit. The Truth that produces that fruit is enough, and as it pertains to other doctrinal matters, one day we will know in a way we could never know now.

And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling, and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God. 1 Corinthians 2:1–5

When I was in high school, it was what I was best at in terms of athletic endeavors.

Ever since my doctor properly diagnosed and healed my left knee, I’ve been excited to get back into running, but there always seems to be something that disrupts the pattern, and this disruption sends me into multiple month stretches of not running.

One Spring it was bronchitis. Another time, a footwear company used their electronic tools to tell me I was wearing a shoe that was half a size too large, so I moved down a size and suffered from plantar fasciitis for months before I realized they weren't infallible. During one other streak of running consistently, I tried tempo runs too early and ended up with shin splints that seemed to be on the verge of never ending.

On top of all this, there’s finding time to run. On days when things are slow at home, I can sneak out and run a 5k around town. But if I want to get a long run in, it either has to be before the kids wake up, after the kids go to bed, or during the heat of the day after they go to school.

Last week, I went to the local state park for a run on Friday after I dropped off Ellie Shay at school. Those runs are my favorite. I ran just short of four miles in my Earthrunner Primal Sandals, which I have found to be so much fun. They took a little getting used to, but I can do road runs with no problems. Last night I ran on a gravel road, and while I could occasionally feel a larger rock, it wasn’t unbearable. After getting them adjusted, I haven’t had any problems with major blisters, but adjusting them to the right fit was a new experience.

One of the hard parts about running is comparing myself to my younger self. I want to be able to run a quick mile with ease and push the limits of my 5k time.

When you’re training, you hear a lot about heart rate zones, and your recovery runs are allegedly supposed to be in zone 2. But I’m going to be honest, to stay in zone 2 for a 30 minute run, I would have to run so unbelievably slow that I might as well be walking.

Thankfully, I’ve seen other information out there that stresses having fun and enjoying the sport, which seems more up my alley.

As a skilled interpreter of Scripture, I know how to accept the data that aligns with my existent views and desires while discounting anything that seems to clash with them (I kid).

But my main motivation for running is that I just feel good when I do it consistently. I can think more clearly, I feel better, and I get better sleep.

So as I put in the miles and work towards the time when I feel comfortable pushing the pace a bit, without getting shin splints again, I ask that you pray for me to find the time, keep up the motivation, and stay away from any injuries or inconveniences that might keep me off the trail.

My goal is to run no less than three times a week for six to eight weeks before beginning some more intentional training.

Indeed, singing and playing a musical instrument are acts of prayer. Music thus fosters our unity in praising God and opens our hearts to be fashioned by his grace.

Pope Leo XIV, taken from this video

Every now and then, a video will pop into my feed of some Catholic news source. Last year, I was sent a video of a Catholic YouTuber, and ever since then, my algorithm thinks I need to watch a Catholic video on occasion.

So here we are.

Music As Prayer

But this video stood out to me because the music of the church is a big deal. I love to sing, and I think preserving the songs of our heritage while also introducing new songs is an important ministry, a ministry I feel that my friend Jason does well.

Seventeen seconds into the video, Pope Leo says what he does in the quote above: “singing and playing a musical instrument are acts of prayer.”

As a musician, I find this to be remarkably true. Just as some of my most fond memories are from around a campfire singing old hymns from memory, I also have many memories of playing the blues on guitar, listening to SRV and Albert King play together, or even playing old Irish fiddle tunes with my best friends and second family.

There is something deeply spiritual about music, even so-called secular music, and I find my soul refreshed during times that music facilitates a thin place.

There’s a passage in Ephesians that says we are to sing and make melody in our heart to the Lord (Ephesians 5:19). If you look up Cory Henry, I think you’ll see an excellent example of what this looks like, but there is really no end to the musicians out there whose melody flows from their heart to their organ, guitar, saxophone, or any number of instruments.

One way that music functions as prayer is as a prayer for healing. When David would play for Saul, Saul would be refreshed, and the evil spirit would depart from him (1 Samuel 16). Just the other day, I saw a booth at an expo downtown for music therapy, which is basically what David was doing for Saul.

Music can also be used to cry to God for help, to thank God for blessings, or to express lament, anger, sadness, grief, or joy.

When Paul told us to sing, he said to sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.

When we sing the psalms, we’ll find ourselves touching on all of these themes. We’ll sing about dance and laughter, sorrow and mourning, and we’ll sing about worshipping God with many instruments, clapping our hands along with all the people who praise God.

So I concur with this part of Pope Leo’s message.

Where Culture and Tradition Can Meet

Another thing he said that stood out to me was this line from the video:

Sacred music is also to reflect local cultures, expressing the authentic traditions of peoples while promoting the universal church’s musical heritage.

Part of me lives within a culture that cherishes a cappella music, and I love that we can express our joy for the Lord with our voices. Another part of me lives within a culture of bluegrass and folk music, and here I can feel the melody run from my heart and to the strings of the mandolin as we play old timey gospel songs that are long loved by our part of the world. Both of these traditions live within me, not in tension, but in a beautiful harmony that represents the many facets of my place in this world.

At a youth conference a few years ago, one of the worship leaders was giving a talk on leading worship in a multigenerational setting. He said that if you find yourself nodding along to the newer songs but find the hymns a bit outdated to your liking, then scan the assembly for someone who adores the old hymns, and find joy in the joy they have. On the other hand, if you love the hymns, but you find the newer songs repetitive and not your style (as if the old songs aren’t also a bit repetitive at times), then find someone who is filled with peace while singing along with the eighteenth bridge of the new song and let their peace be your peace.

We must “one another” each other, and this means allowing music that is rooted in “sacred scripture” and that “reflect[s] the grandeur of mystery” to show up in all of the traditions represented by a congregation.

And, yes, this means not always getting your way.

It’s not about what will draw the biggest crowd. It’s not about what the majority wants. It’s about honoring the need for music that everyone has and trying, as much as one can, to see that those needs are met in a way that honors God, honors fathers and mothers, and does not provoke the children to wrath, which are all commands found within short range of that passage in Ephesians 5.

As someone who is not Roman Catholic that is writing to folks who are probably not Roman Catholic, I hope you can appreciate this wisdom from Pope Leo.

Justin Martyr, a hero of the early church, had a great deal to say on the fulfillment of Scriptures in the person of Jesus, and he made grand claims about the identity of Jesus as the Word of God.

However, the controversy that necessitated the debates leading to the writing of the Nicene Creed had yet to supply the early apologist with the precise language that would be used by Hilary and Athanasius in their defense of the faith in the West and the East. This left some of his arguments lacking the refinement that later authors would have.

Regardless of what one might say of Justin and his theology, he laid down his life for Jesus around AD 165.

That being said, let’s notice one quote supplied by Behr, and I’ll make a few additional observations along the way.

The Totally Transcendent God

… the God who said to Moses that he is “the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob,” [is] not the Creator of all things, but the one who has been proved to you to have appeared to Abraham and Jacob, ministering to the will of the Creator of all … For no-one, who has but the smallest intelligence, will dare to say that the Maker and Father of all things, having left everything beyond the heavens, became visible on a tiny portion of earth.

John Behr, The Way to Nicaea, vol. I, The Formation of Christian Theology (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001), 103.

This quote comes from Justin’s Dialogue of Justin with Trypho: chapter 60.2.

His argument is that it wasn't really God the Father, the maker of all things who appeared before Moses in the bush. Instead it was the Word of God, who he calls “another God and Lord besides the Maker of all” (chapter 56.3). This language might be shocking to us who live on this side of Nicaea, but as for Justin, let’s try to be graceful because of the lack of development at this point in history.

Behr points out that Justin’s statements in passages like these, though he was trying to affirm the divinity of Jesus and the Father, end up undermining “the very revelation of God in Christ.” As theologians beyond the time of Justin would point out, the idea that Jesus is subordinate to the Father as some sort of lesser God means that we don’t actually have full fellowship with God through Jesus. Behr writes,

For Irenaeus, such subordination would destroy the whole economy: if God himself has not become visible in his Son, Jesus Christ, then no real communion between God and man has been established.

John Behr, The Way to Nicaea, vol. I, The Formation of Christian Theology (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001), 104.

St. John’s doctrine of the “Word of God” in John 1 means that God has come into the most intimate form of contact possible with our world. If we look upon Jesus, we see the Father. Thus, some would say that God is infinitely transcendent while being infinitely immanent. This seems contradictory, but this is the mechanism that defeats death in the Cross and Resurrection of Jesus.

The Totally Immanent God

Karl Barth writes that the transcendence and immanence of God, which ought to be an impossibility according to conventional wisdom, is the very essence of the mystery of our unity with Christ.

In the very act of acknowledgment and confession we must always acknowledge and confess together both the distance of the world from God and the distance of God from the world, both the majesty of God and the misery of man. It is the antithesis between these that turns their unity in Christ into a mystery. Thus we must ever acknowledge and confess the inconceivability of this unity.

Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics I/2 p. 173.

When Jesus took on flesh, he offered a definition of God that has been hitherto unknowable: God is with us. God isn’t stuck up in the clouds, locked in a temple, or, as Justin said, unable or unwilling to leave heaven to become “visible on a tiny portion of earth.” Instead, God did exactly that.

Notice that Justin, in the quote above, called God the Maker or Creator of all things, depending on which translation you use.

According to the authors of the New Testament, this is precisely who Jesus is.

All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. John 1:3

in these last days has spoken to us in His Son, whom He appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the world. Hebrews 1:2

For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:16–17

If Justin is correct, then these authors had the smallest of intelligence, but I don’t think he would actually make that claim if he had access to all of the evidence. But they taught that Jesus is no less than the Creator and Sustainer of everything, and it is on this basis that Jesus is even able to properly explain and reveal the character and nature of God.

What this Means for You

If the Father and Jesus are one, then this means they are one in purpose and being, to borrow language from later authors than Justin. The Cross was not some ploy of Jesus to try to condition the Father into being graceful, and the Cross was not some master plan concocted in the mind of Father against the Son’s will. Instead, the whole idea of the incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension was a plan born out of the communion of the Father, Son, and Spirit from before time began.

This means that you, regardless of who you are, are someone who is infinitely loved by an infinite God, a God who is transcendent in that there is no force of darkness or evil that could overcome the divine plan, but who is also immanent in that God is fully aware of our plight and can perfectly identify with it.

And this, I think, is really good news.

It really is something, you know?

How lucky are we to be able to participate in creating life.

Reflecting on Psalm 127, Eugene Peterson wrote,

What do we do to get sons and daughters? Very little. The entire miracle of procreation and reproduction requires our participation, but hardly in the form of what we call our work. We did not make these marvelous creatures that walk and talk and grow among us. We participated in an act of love that was provided for us in the structure of God’s creation.

Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society, Commemorative Edition (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books: An Imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2019), 104.

I feel so lucky to be a dad, and I know there are many dads whose children aren’t there own biologically, and I think those dads count just as much.

There’s a billboard in my town that says that no person has two dads or two moms, and I know what message they’re trying to send, but I have two dads and two moms—just not in the way the billboard meant it.

When I was two, my mom started dating my stepdad. I remember playing MegaMan X on his Super Nintendo in his trailer in Auburn close to the university there; I would have been maybe three.

They married in August of 1996, and I’ve called him “Dad” ever since. He coached t-ball, took me hunting and fishing, and showed me how to plow a field with a tractor. His parents are my Nunu and Papa, and genes couldn't change that.

I’m also lucky to have a wonderful relationship with my biological dad, who I call Daddy—pronounced “Deddy.” We always have chess games going, we run 5ks together, and he taught me to love basketball—both the game and the rap by Kurtis Blow; I still know all the words.

I also have two moms. There is, of course, Mom. But there’s also my stepmom who I also try to call mom, though she came into my life a bit later. Now she goes by Gigi while my bio mom goes by Granna. I went to Gigi’s parents’ house for Christmas, we listened to CMT while making gingerbread houses, and I remember talking about the Bible with her next to the pool.

Maybe you have moms or dads like that. Maybe you are one. Thank you for being you. Your kids need you.

As I watched the monitor, my son Cayden, who is now 6, was spinning around in the nurse’s extra swivel chair. He’s starting first grade. Before long he will be reading and writing, jumping higher, running faster and farther, and continuing to introduce himself to us as his personality and interests develop.

From a little peanut to an energized first grader, and I get to be part of that journey. And there is still so much more to go.

And meanwhile, that little peanut on the monitor that is causing so much joy, nausea, wonder, and a bit of anxiety is pumping blood at 170 beats per minute. That’s almost three times a second.

And I get to be part of it.

What a joy.

Each week is basically the same:

1. My friend Jason and I pick out songs that go along with the two highlighted psalms for the night. We begin the night with a song or two.

2. Then one of our folks gets up and reads a psalm of their choosing and then discusses it. They might talk about how the psalm has helped them through a time of sorrow or joy. They might talk about the historical context. Or they may just read the psalm and sit down.

3. Then I lead the congregation in a discussion about the psalm and the presentation. How did it make them feel? What stood out to them? How does it relate to Jesus? How does it relate to us?

4. Typically we sing another song that goes along with the psalm.

5. Then we open up the floor for anyone to share a psalm or a snippet of a psalm and talk about it. Sometimes everyone has something; sometimes nobody does.

6. We sing another song.

7. Then I get up and talk about a psalm of my choosing. This year, I’m going through a selection of the psalms of ascent. To assist me in the research and to give the congregation some reading material, I’m using Eugene Peterson’s commentary on the psalms of ascent called A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.

8. Then, just for good measure, we sing another song. We like to sing.

A Note On Eugene Peterson

I mentioned Eugene Peterson a few posts ago when I was discussing related reading I was doing on pastoral care, prompted by a book by Gregory the Great on the subject. I read The Contemplative Pastor followed quickly by Working the Angles. I may have even read those in reverse. Shortly following that, I read his biography by Winn Collier entitled A Burning in My Bones. It was wonderful. Then, I read When Kingfishers Catch Fire. Most recently I read the book I’ve already mentioned here, but I’ll talk about that below.

In my estimation, Eugene Peterson ought to be required reading for anyone involved in ministry. He’s humble, funny, and very well read. His love for God, reliance upon prayer, and practicality is inspiring. His teachings on pastoral care come from a twenty-nine year long tenure at the same congregation, a congregation he helped plant.

If you are involved in pastoral care at all, even if you opt for a different “p” word like preacher, I’d consider picking up one of his books. Look for what interests you, or you can read one of the ones I suggested above. I plan on reading a lot more of his work myself.

The Psalms and Me

I’ve never been good at preaching the psalms, and I wish that weren't true. I think the reason I haven’t is because I haven’t lived with them as I have other parts of Scripture. When I read Athanasius’s Life of St. Antony, I went ahead and read his ideas on how to interpret the Psalter. This left me longing to be able to understand, enjoy, and teach from this book more effectively and with more conviction than I had before.

The Summer of Psalms was designed to help me do that, and it has helped.

Another thing that has helped is a class I took on Advanced Hermeneutics at SSU, which happened to be just after I read Athanasius’s comments on the Psalms. It emphasized that the psalms are all about the Messiah. As Jesus said, “These are My words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that all things which are written about Me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled” (Luke 24:44).

The early church took this seriously, and hardly a page goes by where the authors of the epistles don’t quote the psalms.

I’d like to be more like that, and Eugene Peterson has helped me step into that desire.

Discipleship in an Instant Society

The subtitle of the book really struck me. Writing in the 1980s, Peterson already saw the effect that instant gratification was having on his congregation. How much more relevant, then, are these words?

A Long Obedience in the Same Direction compares the life of Christian discipleship with that of the trek from the far reaches of the world to Jerusalem to celebrate the feasts. As the people walked, they would sing from this little “dog-eared” songbook towards the end of the Psalter.

Peterson writes,

But the ascent was not only literal, it was also a metaphor: the trip to Jerusalem acted out a life lived upward toward God, an existence that advanced from one level to another in developing maturity—what Paul described as “the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus” (Phil 3:14).

Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society, Commemorative Edition (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books: An Imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2019), 12.

This book can be enlightening and challenging, frustrating and refreshing, but I found that it was worth it. At first, I tried listening to the book in the car, but I found that there were too many quotes I wanted to underline and too many I wanted to wrestle with.

Anytime I find a book that I can disagree with, celebrate, say amen to, and not put down all at once is a good book.

In each chapter, Peterson outlines the basic meaning of the psalm. He then applies that psalm to life in the West. What lessons about repentance, reliance upon God, and security might we learn from these thrice-yearly pilgrims?

The examples and stories Peterson supplies really help make the psalm to come alive, and his paraphrase The Message is also a wonderful tool to use during this study. Understanding why he wrote it and his intentions with it makes it all the more compelling.

My relationship with the psalms is far from where I’d like it to be, but I’m growing. I suppose that with more life under my belt, I’ll fall more in love with the Psalter.

If you’d like to dive into the psalms, I invite you to pick up this book. But take it from me, you’ll want to read it in a medium that allows you to take good notes, whether electronically or in a paperback.

Thanks for reading.

I looked back over a few old PowerPoints of mine and didn’t really see anything that might be called uniquely Church of Christ.

To try to find some material, I went to an online forum, sorted it by top posts from the last 24 hours, and I didn’t really find anything compelling; there was mainly just anger. I changed the query to look at top posts from the last week, and saw only the same. I sorted it by top posts from the last month, and the posts that got the most traffic were personal stories, jokes, or some sort of grievance.

But the grievances weren’t uniquely Church of Christ either. They dealt more with fundamentalism and legalism in general or something like patriarchy.

I suppose I’m too far removed. Most of what I see as toxic or in need of critique doesn’t look much different from what many Christians I know seem to deal with: anxiety over perfection, concern with cultural issues that are hardly addressed in Scripture, or questions about creation versus evolution, that sort of thing.

It’s sort of like how all cats or dogs of a same breed look the same to the untrained eye, and it makes me wonder if I’ve finally lost my touch.

And what’s funny, and somewhat unexpected, is that I feel almost nostalgic about that time when I had super nuanced knowledge concerning the intricacies of Church of Christ theology. There was a time when I still had all of the arguments memorized backwards and forwards, and now I just don’t even know where to begin. I suppose the paradigm has shifted so much that I’m losing the insider language I once had mastered.

I’m almost tempted to go to one of the forums for current Church of Christ members, instantly triggering a host of memories, but I think I’ll abstain from taking that drastic step. Once I go down that rabbit hole, I can rarely stop. Then, four days later, some preacher from Tennessee is in my inbox debating the fine points of clapping after a baptism, and I don’t think I have the time for that.

What I had really thought of doing was writing something that may encourage someone who is asking questions about popular Churches of Christ teaching and doesn't know where to turn, but I found myself too far removed to be able to come up with anything compelling.

Is this a funeral or a graduation party?

Or is it just life?

And we all find ourselves drifting into new streams, only to one day look back on a land we long since left, remembering it with a spirit of trepidation and an odd longing. It’s like driving past your first house to see what the new owners are doing with the front porch, or walking the halls of your old high school to trigger distant memories, loves, and friendships.

And that brings me to another question: what am I?

I know I’m a Christian, and I preach for a congregation with a Church of Christ sign out front, but I don’t feel connected to a specific tradition or expression of the faith, and I wonder if that is such a good thing?

When I first came to North Broad five years ago, I tried to attend gospel meetings, Bible studies, and I almost worried about what other congregations thought about us, but I feel that all of that has grown numb.

The only thing I really feel drawn to is working with my people, sharing the good news with them, and trying to be a light in the community.

That being said, if there are any subjects you’d like to cover or questions you’d like me to answer, I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer every one, but I can give the ones that catch my eye a good go.

God bless!

Well, it depends on who the prophet was and to whom he or she was speaking.

If we’re speaking of Huldah in 2 King 22:14-17, then the end was the fall of the temple in the 6th century before Christ.

If we’re speaking of Isaiah, then the end may be the destruction of Babylon in 539 BC at which time the heavens and earth passed away, the stars stopped shining, and every person’s heart melted from fear (Isaiah 13-14).

If we’re speaking of John the Baptist, then the end may be the fall of the second temple in AD 70 when the axe, which was already laid to the root of the tree, caused the great tree to fall and the city was burned with unquenchable fire (Matthew 3:7-12).

Outside of being examples of fulfilled prophecy, how else might these passages relate to us? Or do they at all?

The God Who Sees

When Hagar was exiled in the wilderness, God visited her. This Egyptian slave, run off from her master’s household gave God a name: Elroi—the God who sees (Genesis 16:32). We do not serve a God who is aloof, but God is with us. In Jesus, we meet (or are met by) a God who enters into our despair, makes it his own, and overcomes it. We meet a God who doesn’t just see but who understands our plight and can identify with our troubles.

This is also the message of the prophets.

Learn to do good; Seek justice, Reprove the ruthless, Defend the orphan, Plead for the widow. Isaiah 1:17

Proclaim on the citadels in Ashdod and on the citadels in the land of Egypt and say, “Assemble yourselves on the mountains of Samaria and see the great tumults within her and the oppressions in her midst. “But they do not know how to do what is right,” declares the LORD, “these who hoard up violence and devastation in their citadels.” Amos 3:9–10

You have lived luxuriously on the earth and led a life of wanton pleasure; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter. You have condemned and put to death the righteous man; he does not resist you. James 5:5–6

Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword. Matthew 26:52

Does God still seek justice? What does God think about those who hoard up violence and devastation? Are those who live luxuriously while others go without still held accountable? Do those who take up the sword still perish by the sword?

Each of these warnings had a specific situation in mind, but each of these passages tell us about a God who cares, a God who wants us to care, and a God who wishes to see wrongdoers reformed.

Yes Then, But Also Now?

As responsible Bible students, I think understanding the specific context of these passages does matter. Are we dealing with Judah or Israel? Are dealing with the first or second temple? Which empire is in charge? What is its history?

So, yes. These things have their specific context and fulfillment.

But if we see the words of God to be eternal, then surely their warnings and encouragements still carry some weight in principle. For example, if Jesus had in mind the second temple and its covenant when he spoke of “heaven and earth” in Matthew 24, then wouldn't this mean that Jesus’s words continue to have effect long after its fall?

Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away. Matthew 24:35

Jesus’s words about love and faithfulness and prayer and obedience and servanthood and the rich and the poor still mean something. Following his narrow way of self-sacrificial love leads to light and life while engorging oneself on darkness and evil leads to death and destruction (Matthew 7:13-14). Good trees still bear good fruit, and bad trees still bear bad fruit.

The following passage has its immediate context and fulfillment. There was a legitimate time coming that would bring all sorts of self-inflicted judgments on the rich and powerful, but I believe these blessings and warnings should still cause us to examine ourselves today:

And turning His gaze toward His disciples, He began to say, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. “Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh. “Blessed are you when men hate you, and ostracize you, and insult you, and scorn your name as evil, for the sake of the Son of Man. “Be glad in that day and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven. For in the same way their fathers used to treat the prophets.

“But woe to you who are rich, for you are receiving your comfort in full. “Woe to you who are well-fed now, for you shall be hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep. “Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for their fathers used to treat the false prophets in the same way. Luke 6:20–26

Extracting the Key Principle

So we take the original meaning of the Bible passages seriously. We observe the context, acknowledge the original audience, and try to perceive how they would have understood the passages. From there, we take the key principle and seek how it might apply on our situation.

Are there those taking advantage of widows and orphans today?

Yes.

Does God approve of such actions?

No.

What does the Scripture say about those who go down such roads?

The LORD protects the strangers; He supports the fatherless and the widow, But He thwarts the way of the wicked. Psalm 146:9

Eugene Peterson follows up this passage with the paraphrase “God is in charge—always!" (Psalm 146:10, The Message).

The path that would lead someone to violence, deceit, and oppression must be objectively worse than the path that leads to peace, honesty, and justice.

There are real-time, real-life consequences to walking paths of darkness, and these prophets, though they existed in their time and place and proclaimed an end that has come and gone, still speak today through Scripture. They warn that those who go down these paths will meet their own end. God “turns them over” to the path they have chosen.

And it is our responsibility in proclaiming the good news of Jesus to warn others of these consequences that are at the doors.

N. T. Wright wrote a book that I have not read called Simply Christian, so I cannot comment on the points therein, but I do know that before that book was authored in 2005, the idea of being simply a Christian was taught within the fellowship in which I was raised—the Churches of Christ.

The idea was that we are simply Christian. We didn’t want to be known as Church of Christers or Campbellites. And even though the expression “member of the church” became a sectarian dog whistle, the idea was intended to be the same: we just want to be Christians.

And there is a wonderful wisdom in this.

But before we get to the wisdom, let’s notice the negative side.

The Label-less Purist

Labels are helpful.

If in a friendly discussion on Revelation I ask you what your eschatological framework is and you say, “I believe exactly what Jesus believed: no more and no less” then I will probably ask you to show me what it means to turn the other cheek in real time.

Of course, I jest, but knowing what basic labels mean isn’t trapping yourself in an “-ism.”

There was a religious debate that was very important to me. One of the participants was looked up to as being a champion of the faith, but he made a horrible blunder in my estimation. His debate opponent, someone I view in high regard, mentioned that this man was an amillennialist. I don’t remember this brother’s exact response, but it was something to the effect that he had never called himself an amillennialist and he didn’t see that label as being altogether applicable. But amillennialism is the doctrine he espoused.

Some deride all of the “-isms.” “Whether it’s premillennialism, Calvinism, or Mormonism, you just can’t trust those -isms. I just want to be a Christian!”

And this might sound good until one realizes they are a credobaptist in an arminian/semi-pelagian tradition who espouses amillennialism and is an example of classic fundamentalism and legalism.

Labels are helpful.

My Frustration with Labels

Some labels are not very helpful.

Some labels are not very helpful because they are imprecise or used in an imprecise way. When I hear some Christians talk about “liberal” Christians, I like to point out that they probably don’t know any liberal Christians in person. By “liberal” they typically mean anyone who falls to the left of them politically or theologically, and the person they are referring to is often as conservative as they are. Of course, the one using this label is considered liberal to someone else. If this is what comes to your head when you think of liberal theologians, then I invite you to search the web for yourself for a more precise definition.

I find other labels, even ones accurately used, as unhelpful because I feel pigeonholed by them. For example, if you asked me to interpret any prophetic passage within Scripture to the best of my abilities in regards to the expected timing of its fulfillment, I would invariably interpret it as being fulfilled no later than the fall of the temple in AD 70. On this basis, you would find it reasonable to call me a preterist, and I wouldn't resist such a classification. However, if you asked me what eschatological label I’d apply to myself, I would tell you that I am ultimately unsatisfied with any eschatological model with which I am familiar.

If you’re interested in more information about this specific issue, then see the link below:

And so I resist some labels because I see my views as in flux. I don’t want to commit to one paradigm, even if such a label would be fair, but I wouldn't claim ignorance of the label or reject it in the context of a formal discussion.

In cases like these, I want to throw my hands in the air and say, “I just want to be simply Christian!”

What if We Were Serious About Being Simply Christian?

Imagine that a credobaptist arminian who was a strong-partial preterist post-millennialist came to the table. We might wish to jump on his exclusion of children from the covenant community (I’m a credobaptist by the way; I’m just playing along). We might wish to question his doubt in the sovereignty of God (again, I’m not a Calvinist). We might want to debate his inconsistent eschatology.

Or what if…

What if we just accepted him as a Christian.

Oh? You have faith in Jesus as Lord? Welcome to the table because “no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:3). Oh? I see love, joy, peace, patience, etc. in your life? Welcome to the table because “against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23). Oh? You’re a sinner, an enemy of God, and helpless? Well, welcome to the table, for Paul told us to “welcome one another as Christ Jesus has welcomed you, to the glory of God,” and this table is a place of healing (Romans 15:6; cf. Romans 5:6-11).

If we were serious about being “simply Christian” and weren't just using this as some sort of prideful, sectarian label for ourselves, then it may just be the pathway to unity.

Let labels come when they are helpful, especially when we’re trying to explain what it is we believe and why. But reject them when they come between brothers and sisters.

Labels are useful when we’re describing our beliefs, but only one label is necessary when we are describing ourselves: Christian (and by this I mean “child of God who imitates Christ in word and deed”).

When we make our beliefs about certain doctrines our personality and identity, then we end up splitting ourselves up into sects and factions, fracturing the family of God. When we take on Jesus’s name, into which we are all baptized, then we can find common ground, promote unity, and walk with each other in love.

I am privileged to have access to a doctrinal standard so pure, so perfect, and so pristine; yet, my personal views come short of that standard. The standard is the Risen Christ, and he is present within me along with his Father through the Spirit (John 14:23). With access to such a standard, why must I still ask questions, study, pray, and learn from others who have walked this path much longer than I?

Because the glaring hole in my theology is my own fallibility.

But don’t misunderstand me. I see this as a gift, not a curse.

While I used to be something like the brutal embodiment of evil called the Judge in Blood Meridian where I saw doctrines that existed without my knowledge as existing without my consent, I now see my fallibility as an invitation to humility, grace, and endless exploration.

Humility

I am not God. I lack omniscience, and because I lack omniscience, I have the freedom of saying, “I don’t know.” Before, I thought that any Bible question I didn't know the answer to was proof that I had not yet fulfilled Peter’s command to “be ready to give an answer.” Unfortunately, I missed two crucial parts of that passage, which I’ll quote below.

but sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence; 1 Peter 3:15

First, Peter affirms that Christ is set aside as Lord in our hearts. It is this confession and presence that gives us hope. It is the seed of the gospel that bears the fruit of eternal life within our souls. I had mistaken my own theological acumen as my hope. No wonder I was largely hopeless.

Second, Peter said this defense must be given with a spirit of gentleness and reverence. I mistook being solemn and unhappy for reverence, and I saw gentleness as something akin to weakness.

If my hope is rooted in Jesus’s Lordship then it isn’t rooted in me being lord over a theological domain. The answer I give, then, is a response to grace, pure grace. It’s not about me or the memorized facts and verses in my head.

Admitting your own fallibility is admitting to be no more than you are, to not think more highly of yourself than you ought to think (Romans 12:3). It’s an invitation to humility.

Grace

If I am not infallible, then I must always be willing to confess that I have room to grow. This means that any belief I have is subject to change. Perhaps I lack knowledge in a certain area because I lack life experience. It could be that I have been exposed to the correct view at some time or another, but it was delivered in a poor way, so it did not stand out to me as being compelling. For all I know dispensationalism may be true, but I’ve yet to see a convincing argument.

This means that I must be filled with grace. I must of course be gracious to myself. I don’t have to know it all. It’s okay to be wrong. A relationship with Jesus is more important than my ability to ace an exam on orthodoxy.

But if this is true for myself, then it is true for my neighbor.

Over the last eleven years, I’ve changed my mind on a lot, and my self of twelve years ago would undoubtedly excommunicate the me of today, but I wouldn’t do the same to him. He is a young man who believes in Jesus, who has dedicated himself to ministry, and who is willing to stand on his convictions. Even if I disagree with him, he is still my brother.

So it’s okay for others to not know it all and to be wrong. Their relationship with Jesus is more important than their ability to ace an exam on orthodoxy.

Where I draw the line, and there is a line, is the fruit of the Spirit. If someone has all of the right “answers” but doesn't have love, they are like a noisy gong or clanging cymbal, and we know what love is because of the Cross (1 John 3:16).

Endless Exploration

I heard (or read) Richard Rohr once say that mystery is not something that is unknowable; mystery is something that is endlessly knowable.

I find this beyond compelling.

One experience I’ve had with Scripture is that the more I read, the more I discover that I didn’t see before. Currently, I’m gearing up to write my thesis on John 4:24. Twelve years ago, I understood “worship in spirit and truth” to mean the right attitude and in the right way. A year later I started to see, thanks to Franklin Camp, the themes of temple imagery in the New Testament. A few years later, I saw that “Spirit and Truth” in John’s Gospel refers to the Holy Spirit and Jesus, who is Truth. Then, I connected the two and realized that the Samaritan woman was asking a question about location, not form, and Jesus is answering a question about location, not form. We worship the Father, not in a temple, but in Christ through the Holy Spirit. Now, as I work on the thesis and read books related to it, I’ve uncovered even more about this passage and its implications.

As many have said, Scripture is shallow enough for a child to wade in but deep enough for an elephant to swim in, and I suppose it’s infinitely deeper than that.

Instead of there being an upper limit to knowledge concerning the mysteries of God, the knowledge concerning God is endless. From the perspective of someone who is trying to conquer Scripture, this might be reason enough to give up, but as someone who is overtaken by awe, this is wonderful news.

How My Theology is Made Whole

While my own theology is lacking, Jesus’s is not, and since he is Lord, I confess to believe in the God that he has revealed, and this means confessing that my infantile babbling concerning God formed through the metallurgy of debate, legalism, or my own cleverness is ultimately nothing.

I forever submit my knowledge of God to Jesus, and I am always ready to acknowledge my own shortcomings and to consent to his work of transforming me into his image.

So I am trying to stand with Paul in saying,

Now concerning things sacrificed to idols, we know that we all have knowledge. Knowledge makes arrogant, but love edifies. If anyone supposes that he knows anything, he has not yet known as he ought to know; but if anyone loves God, he is known by Him. 1 Corinthians 8:1–3

and

But now that you have come to know God, or rather to be known by God, how is it that you turn back again to the weak and worthless elemental things, to which you desire to be enslaved all over again? Galatians 4:9

I’m now trying to live in the “or rather.”

What is eschatology all about? When we study pneumatology, what are we studying? Anthropology: what’s its end goal? When I say “hamartiology” what comes to mind? Respectively, these are the study of the end, the study of the Spirit, the study of humanity, and the study of sin.

But what we’re really talking about when we talk about any passage, consider any spiritual topic, or wonder why we’re here at all, we are seeking to learn the nature and character of God. Who is this that we call God? What is God like?

Thus, whatever claims I make about the nature of humanity ultimately shape what and who I talk about when I talk about God. And whatever I have to say about the Holy Spirit or the last days or sin or atonement or any other subject is informing my beliefs about God’s character and nature.

When I confess the following about Jesus, I am making a statement about who God is. For my fellow recovering fundamentalists, this is from the second paragraph of the Nicene creed, and it was written after a major debate about the nature of Christ.

I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ,
the Only Begotten Son of God,
born of the Father before all ages.
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father;
through him all things were made.

Taken from this website.1

By adopting a high Christology, which is a high view of who Jesus is in respect to his divinity, I stand with the writer of John in saying that Jesus explains God (John 1:18). I stand with the Hebrews writer in saying that Jesus reveals the exact character and nature of God (Hebrews 1:1-3).

So, anything I can say about Jesus, I can say about God, and anything I can say about God, I can say about Jesus.

If something I say about Jesus doesn't seem to match what I would say or think about the Father, then something is off. And if something I would say about the Father doesn't seem to match what I say or think about Jesus, then something is off.

As Jesus said, “He who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). Jesus also said that he could only say what he had heard the Father say and do what he had seen the Father do (John 5:19; 12:49).

All theological inquiries could be summed up in this way: what would Jesus do?

If it can’t be said about Jesus, it can’t be said about the Father because Jesus is the only reliable source we have as to who God is and what God is like.

My feelings fail me, my grand ideas fail me, my fears fail me, and my dreams fail me.

But here’s what this means…

Go back to those subdivisions of theology: eschatology, pneumatology, anthropology, cosmology, soteriology, and on and on. If the conclusions reached when pursuing these disciplines does not match the revelation of divine love we see in Jesus on the cross (1 John 3:16), then it can’t properly be called Christian.

I don’t say this because I have some desire to create an exclusive club where everything thinks as I think and does as I do. You can tell by the company I keep that I don’t operate in that way. But what I am saying is that what we say about God matters, and if your position on such and such matter creates a god who is unlike Jesus, then the one under consideration isn’t Jesus’s Abba.

I readily admit that I am far from perfect. My eschatology, for instance, has a huge hole in it that can’t be filled with all of the exegesis I can muster because the hole isn’t left by a lack of logic or quotations for I have plenty of that; but the hole is there because my eschatology demands a version of the Father, Son, and Spirit that falls short of the revelation of God through Jesus, at least as far as I can tell from my and my fellowship’s experience of the Savior.

And so all roads lead to the character of God, and since the road to God is Jesus, every inquiry by someone seeking to understand any theological subject must pass through the rubric of the Cross. Anything that is not cruciform is weighed in the balances and found wanting.

So bring me your theological questions. Bring me your most absurd theories. Bring me your harsher critiques of my views. And instead of seeking after the wisdom of people like you and me, we can take it to the foot of the Cross and see what Jesus has to say about it, for many times and in many ways God spoke to the ancestors through the prophets, but in the last days God perfectly revealed the divine character and nature through the Son.

For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. 1 Corinthians 2:2

The Need for Another Exodus

Then it will happen on that day that the Lord Will again recover the second time with His hand The remnant of His people, who will remain, From Assyria, Egypt, Pathros, Cush, Elam, Shinar, Hamath, And from the islands of the sea. Isaiah 11:11

According to conventional wisdom, there is no way Israel should have escaped Pharaoh, but she did. This was not through her own strength or cunning but because God was with her. Fast forward seven hundred years, and Israel’s kingdom has been divided, and the prophets are saying that doom is at hand. At the hands of the Assyrians, the northern tribes were swallowed up by the nations (Hosea 8:8). After a few generations, the southern tribes went into exile in Babylon.

Despite the threat and eventual reality of exile, the prophets’ proclamation didn’t end there, for there was coming a time when God would, out of faithfulness to the covenant between God and Israel, restore the people. And while the southern tribes experienced something of a restoration 536 years before Christ, it wasn’t the glorious return everyone expected. In the first century, faithful followers of God like the prophetess Anna, continued to look for the restoration of Israel (Luke 2:25; 24:21).

The people needed another Exodus.

Going back to Isaiah 11, the Scripture promised that this second Exodus would happen “on that day.” Isaiah 11 speaks of a descendant of Jesse (David’s father) who would be immersed in the Spirit of God and bring justice to the poor and downtrodden.

The New Testament affirms that this finds its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. Jesus is the restoration of Israel, and his death and resurrection kick starts a new Exodus (Luke 9:31, Greek: exodos).

The Exodus in John

The Gospel of John, like most New Testament books, picks up on this theme and regularly employ it. For example, John the Baptist immediately recognizes Jesus as the “lamb of God,” a description that ties Jesus to the Passover lamb (John 1:29). Unlike the other Gospel narratives, John highlights the Passover throughout the book: John 2:13, 23; 6:4; 11:55; 12:1; 13:1; 18:28; 18:39; 19:14. The Passover, of course, was instituted on the eve of Israel’s departure from Egypt.

Jesus also turns water into wine, a miracle that calls to my mind the first plague: water to blood. Jesus, then, is performing this same sign but with a different intent; while the plague of turning water into blood made the water undrinkable, Jesus’s miracle turns water into a source of joy and merriment, and it prefigures the blood and water that would flow from his side on the cross, speaking to its redeeming properties and perhaps the use of wine in communion.

Having covered chapters one and two, let’s briefly notice chapter three. In Jesus’s nighttime conversation with Nicodemus, he compares himself to the bronze serpent that was lifted up in the wilderness during the Exodus. Jesus would be similarly lifted up to “draw all men” unto himself (cf. John 12:32).

As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up; so that whoever believes will in Him have eternal life. John 3:14–15

By the time we reach John 6, Jesus has already discussed living water (John 4:13-14; Exodus 17:6), the life-giving words of Jesus and the choice involved (John 4:24-29; Deuteronomy 30:19), and brings Moses forward as a witness to his works (John 5:45-47).

Bread, Water, and Light

During the first Exodus, God provided the people with bread from heaven, gave them water from a rock, and led them by a great light during the night. We see these three blessings fulfilled in Jesus. It’s not that Jesus provides these blessings as something exterior to himself; he is these blessings.

In John 6, Jesus feeds five thousand with miraculous bread. In response to this miracle, the people wonder if Jesus could be “the prophet” (John 6:14). This is a reference to a promise made in Deuteronomy 18, which says, “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your countrymen, you shall listen to him” (Deuteronomy 18:15). In the midst of a lengthy debate following this miracle, Jesus announces, “I am the living bread that came down out of heaven…” (John 6:51).

In John 7, Jesus stands up on the last day of the feast of booths and says, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water’” (John 7:37–38). As the living water flowed from the rock in the wilderness, Zechariah saw that it would flow again at the time Israel would be restored (Zechariah 14:8). Jesus is the fulfillment of this promise, and we participate in it through the Holy Spirit.

In John 8, Jesus begins, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life” (John 8:12). As the pillar of fire led the children of Israel in the wilderness, Jesus leads us out of darkness, delusion, and death and into light, truth, and life. Jesus says later that the “truth” would set them free. He later defines “truth” by saying “who the Son sets free is free indeed.” Jesus is the “truth” that sets us free because Jesus is the perfect revelation of God as Father, Son, and Spirit—as Love (John 14:6).

Abraham was told that all nations would be blessed through his seed, and this happened in part through the Exodus, but its ultimate fulfillment takes place in Jesus. Jesus could then say, “Your father Abraham rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it and was glad…Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was born, I am” (John 8:56–58).

“Before Abraham was born, I AM.” The same God that freed the Israelite slaves from Egyptian bondage frees us from the bondage of sin, darkness, and death that entered the world through the original lie. We are free, we are home, and, as the Hebrews writer said in Hebrews 12, “You have come to Mount Zion” (Hebrews 12:22).