Paige has a website at paigemcbride.me.
 

Wars and Rumors of Wars

Have you ever seen a Facebook post in which someone shares a verse from Jesus’ sermon on the end times and says that the world must be ending soon because of the wars, diseases, and division rising up? They see the chaos spiraling all about them—whether it’s a pandemic, a Russian invasion, or political upheaval— and so they think that Jesus’ words are finally coming to fruition. He is about to come back. They sound the alarm: Get ready!!!

I think there are two types of Christians: the ones who think everything is a sign about the end times and the ones who never think about, let alone talk about, the end times. But is there a more balanced position, or should I say a more biblical position, for us to pursue? It might be wise first to understand some of the context of Jesus’ sermon about the end times (often called the Olivet Discourse). In Matthew 24, the disciples marvel at the beautiful temple but Jesus responds, “Truly, I say to you, there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down” (Matt 24:2). So the disciples, naturally being quite perplexed, ask, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?”. They want to know when the temple is going to be destroyed, and while he’s at it, they are curious how they will know when he is coming back and the world is ending. To the disciples, these matters were all mixed together. They may have thought that the destruction of the temple and Jesus’ second coming would coincide. But Jesus will separate the issues, the destruction of the temple just a part of the larger times of tribulation that make up the last days (24:4-25). All of this will come before his return (24:29-31).

There are a lot of interpretative issues in this passage, and we cannot handle them all here. But we are wise to heed Jesus’ first words in response to his disciples before proceeding: “See that no one leads you astray” (24:4). The disciples lived in a time when many Jewish apocalyptical writings circulated and there were a lot of grandiose expectations about the future. Jesus warns his followers to be on guard; they cannot listen to everyone who claims to know when the end will come. Instead, “when you hear of wars and rumors of wars, see that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places” (24:6-7). For those of us who feel like the past few years have been “unprecedented times” in history—as we experienced the pandemic and world distress, even the threat of a new war—these words remind us that these phenomenon are nothing new at all. Disease and war have been and will be. Indeed, Jesus finishes his statement with a sobering statement: he says that all “these” things (referring to wars, famines, earthquakes, etc.) “are but the beginning of the birth pains” (24:8). They are standard-fare for the period between Christ’s comings. No need to be surprised.

And yet at the same time we must heed Jesus’ command that finishes his sermon: “Stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore, you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” (24:42-44). We may not need to be alarmed, but we do need to be ready. And that means that everyday should be lived in light of the fact that he could return. Not because we are interpreting some world event as a sign, but because we know we will not and we cannot see it coming. We just must always be ready.

Therefore, we do not have to be obsessed with predicting Jesus’ return nor must we sound the alarms when we hear about wars and rumors of wars; Jesus told us this would happen. But we also remember that the end could come at any moment and therefore we “stay awake” and stay faithful so that when our Master returns he will find us as he ought to (24:45-46). We need not choose between being an alarmist and being an avoider. We need not think that every world event is a sign of Jesus’ return. But we also would be wise to be ready for him at this very moment. Are we?



In It For the Long Haul

The book of Haggai takes place in the post-exilic Hebrew community. After decades of exile and subordination under the Babylonians, the people of Israel are wondering where the promises of God are. Particularly, the much beloved promise to David that his throne would endure forever, was becoming continually obscure as the people were scattered in a land not their, own ruled by a king not their own. The original promise to Abraham that they would be a “great nation” that would bless all other nations was becoming more of a memory than destiny. But as the prophet Jeremiah had foretold God’s people, Babylon did not rule over the oppressed people forever. The Persians eventually came and overtook the longstanding world power of Babylon and a new chapter in Israel’s history was about to begin. Ezra tells us, “In the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, that the word of the LORD by the mouth of Jeremiah might be fulfilled, the LORD stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, so that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom…The LORD, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever is among you of all his people, may his God be with him and let him go to Jerusalem” (Ezra 1:1-3). And just like that the promises of God don’t seem that far off! The remnant of Israel scattered abroad is now headed back to Jerusalem. Their story isn’t over. God has not abandoned them.

But by the time of Haggai, a few years had passed since the glorious decree of Cyrus, king Darius had risen to power, and the people in Jerusalem had made little progress. The people are dragging their feet. This is where Haggai comes in. He speaks a message from the LORD to the people: “Is it time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?” (Hag 1:4). Apparently, the people had the strength to get their own houses built and settled into, but the temple of God was nowhere close to “worship-ready”. The people who once longed to reestablish the glory of the God in His temple in Jerusalem and reclaim their identity as God’s chosen people, are now content to settle down in Jerusalem, build themselves luxurious homes, eat, drink, and be merry with little consideration of the temple that still lies in ruin (1:5-9). The initial excitement of returning to the land of promise has worn off and the people have found themselves prioritizing their everyday lives over the larger redemptive project God intends to accomplish in Jerusalem. The glimmer of hope was enough to get them to “up and move” back to their beloved city, but it was not enough to inspire long term devotion.

It is beneficial for us to consider who exactly these people were in Jerusalem. We normally think of the prophets as speaking to the wicked, wayward people in Israel. They spoke a message of fire and brimstone, warning the rebellious bunch of their coming condemnation and destruction. But it would not be fair to categorize Haggai’s audience as such. This is the remnant of God’s people. It is those who were not judged in the destruction of Jerusalem many years ago. In some sense, it is proper for us to consider this group of people as the “faithful few” that made it out of the severe judgment God imposed upon his people. They are those who come from families that repented at the message of the prophets and who remained true to Yahweh despite the pervasive idolatry that surrounded them. These are not irreverent rebels. These people represent what is left of God’s people. They are those who endured exile, waiting on God’s promises of restoration. Though they did not persist long in their efforts when they returned to Jerusalem, these people have indeed waited patiently. They have endured much. They are weary. And you can see how motivation is low after the decades of exile. In a lot of ways, the people Haggai speaks to are just like you and me. They do not reject God. They have generally sought to be faithful to his commands and his ways but are weary. They are struggling to keep up the motivation after years of endurance. They are sliding into complacency and begin to neglect the grand plans of God and settle for simple, comfortable lives. Sound relatable?

So, what was Haggai’s message to a weary people, who have seen and embraced the salvation of God but are losing focus in the day to day devotion? God asks them to evaluate how they think life is going for them: “Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes” (1:5-6). In other words, God is asking them to evaluate whether complacency in the call of God is as restful as they think it is. They may be weary and tired of being God’s chosen vessels to bring salvation to the earth, but has taking leave of their spiritual duties really granted them the life they were hoping for? Apparently not. Apparently, they still work hard and don’t get enough in return. They eat and drink but aren’t satisfied. They earn a living, but it feels like their bank accounts have holes in the bottom of them, the money never lasts long. Still sound relatable?

Haggai wants the people to realize that the solution to their burnout is not to relieve themselves of their religious responsibilities. Not only is it a sin against God, but it does not even help the problem! They are still burnt out. They are still tired. They are still unsatisfied! So, what must they do instead? They must “consider their ways” again and then “go up to the hills and bring wood and build the house that I may take pleasure in it and that I may be glorified, says the LORD” (1:7-8). Don’t take a break from building the temple, that won’t cure the weariness! Instead, stop “busying yourselves” (verse 9) with your own lives and get to work on God’s house so that He may be pleased. Stepping back from the call of God never actually gives us the refreshment we need from a long life of hard work and disappointments. Living into the call of God is what makes a long life of hard work and disappointments worth it at all.

Indeed, Haggai does not leave the people without a note of encouragement. They quickly respond in obedience and begin work again on the temple (1:12-15). Soon the short book of Haggai ends on a rather obscure note: “I will take you, Zerubbabel my servant, the son of Shealtiel, declares the LORD, and make you like a signet ring, for I have chosen you, declare the LORD of hosts” (2:23). What does this mean? Zerubbabel is the governor of the people who have returned to Jerusalem, but he is also something even more: he is in the Davidic kingly line. The promise to David that someone in his line would always be on the throne suddenly doesn’t seem so far away! Zerubbabel will be made like a “signet ring” of the LORD. A signet ring was a stone carved with a representation of the king. It was used to authenticate documents or decrees on clay tablets by pressing the ring into the clay, a role equivalent to that of a signature today. To say that Zerubbabel would be God’s signet ring was to insinuate that he would function as an authoritative king on behalf of Yahweh. David’s line is not gone. The promise is not forgotten. And the once weary people, after their obedience, are granted another glimmer of hope concerning the plan of God. Sure enough, we can find Zerubbabel’s name in Jesus’ genealogy in the first chapter of Matthew. Don’t give up when the call of God gets long and weary. Consider your ways. And when you obey and live into the call of God even when it’s long and hard, be on the lookout for glimmers of hope. For your God longs to encourage you to keep going along the way.



The Christmas Story is Longer Than You Think

In a time where Christmas has become a largely secular holiday, it is important for Christmas to do more than just remember to “keep the Christ in Christmas”. What would really help the Christian embrace the full glory of Christmas, would be to keep Christ in the larger story that surrounds Christmas. Most Americans today can tell you what Christmas celebrates. But unfortunately so, not many Americans, believers and unbelievers alike, could not tell you the bigger story that the Christmas story is only a chapter within. And when we isolate this chapter from the story, we lose so much of its weight. We misunderstood so much of its content. And we obscure the fullness of its glory.

The book of Matthew begins the New Testament canon with what may seem quite anti-climactic to us: “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1). He then goes on to bless us with 17 whole verses filled with esoteric names and historical references! What a great beginning to the Gospel! Talk about getting the audience hooked, right?! Well actually, Matthew knew what he was doing (or better yet, the Holy Spirit knew what He was doing). This introduction to Matthew reminds us something extremely important about the story of Christmas: it is not an independent story. It is a climax of a much greater, longer story that has kept the people of God waiting for hundreds of years since they last heard from God through the prophets. Imagine your favorite scene out of a long movie series and you have a friend watch it with you, but they know little to nothing about the rest of the series. You would be frustrated by their lack of interest. The story which you find to be heart-wrenching, life-changing, or tear-jerking is for them not all that impressive. Why? Because they don’t know the rest of the story. They do not know all the heartache and struggle that has brought the character to this climactic moment. Matthew will not let his audience watch an isolated YouTube clip without sitting down for the whole trilogy in the movie theater with a big bag of popcorn. He needs you to know the bigger story to understand the drama of this specific story. So in some sense, Matthew is just continuing another story, the story of Abraham and the story of David. But in another sense, he also sees that this story is the pinnacle of the entire story. The words, “the genealogy of Jesus Christ”, literally “the genesis of Jesus Christ”, call us back to the original beginning, as if the beginning of Jesus will be a new beginning for us all, a new genesis.

So why does Matthew think the first thing we should know about this new beginning, the “genesis of Jesus Christ”, is that he is a son of David and a son of Abraham? Because he insists that we read the story of Jesus in light of the rest of the story. His significance, His role, His mission, and His destiny, can only be understood in the context of the story that has been waiting for a climax and resolution for a long time. And these two men, Abraham and David, are representatives of that story and the grand promises that comprise it. Abraham, the father of the faith, was the first to be called out by God to inaugurate His grand plan of redemption. For Jesus to be a son of Abraham is to place Him within the line of that promise. Jesus’ Jewishness is a requirement for our Gospel. The Jews were the people of the promise, and it was revealed to them that it was through their nation that “all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen 12:3). The blessing of the world by the Jewish nation finds its fulfillment in the person of Christ, the Jew who would bless the nations beyond their greatest imagination.

The term “son of David” had large Messianic implications in the Judaism of Matthew’s day. The Old Testament had spoken of a great King that would rule over the people of Israel and subdue the nations. It was this anointed, conquering King that was the hope of the nation. Not only that, but God had promised David that “your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever” (2 Sam 7:16). It was this covenant with the Davidic throne and its descendants that gave the relatively small and insignificant nation of Israel security and confidence throughout the years. But when the day had come that the Babylonians were to siege their beloved city Jerusalem, the city of David, the Babylonians took their Davidic King captive along with the city. The Babylonian destruction and humiliation of the king was seen in the Israelites eyes as a failure of God to maintain His covenant with David. It almost seemed to bring the story to an end. The absence of a Davidic King was a source of pain for God’s people, as they waited and wondered how God might indeed keep his covenant with them and make them a great nation, even a blessing to all other nations.

It was the hope of a coming Davidic King, someone who would pick up where the story left off, that kept the people of Israel hopeful in their identity as the people of God. So for Matthew to announce Jesus as part of the line of David was no small fact. It was a clear association with the promises of God and the hope of the people. The story that many people thought had come to an end was about to get interesting again. The silence of God expires, His voice breaks through time and space, His Word becomes flesh, and it not only tells us the rest of the story, but accomplishes the rest of the story. God had not forgotten the promise to Abraham. He had not forgotten the promise to David. He had not forgotten His people. The story was not over. And Matthew, with just one verse to open his account of the Gospel, clues us in to the fact that we are about to read the climax. The long, often circuitous, frustrating plot of the Old Testament is culminating in this very chapter of redemption. The apex of God’s revelation has arrived. And He comes to finish what Abraham and David started.

Turns out Matthew is just a great story teller, not a boring Bible geek. As He references Abraham and David, thousands of years of history floods into the minds of his Jewish readers, thousands of years of promises and hope, of disappointments and despair, of joy and yet of sorrow, of triumph and yet of defeat, of glorious expectations and yet of painful waiting, of anticipation and suspense. He has gotten his audience on their toes. They are dying to know how God will finish this story. Are you?



To Fear or Not to Fear?

“Fear not, for I am with you” is a Bible verse probably on millions of bathroom mirrors around the country (Is 41:10). Even those who are not expressly committed to the biblical Christian faith often resonate with the idea God is with them, watching over them, and so they need not fear. In our therapeutic culture, God is a vague term that is used to remind us that fate is on our side, we are loved and valued, we are being protected, and we have nothing to fear. But is it true? Do we have nothing to be afraid of? A religion of wishful thinking and naïve positivity usually cannot sustain itself because, for most of us, there are plenty of reasons to fear. And frankly, God often does not seem too interested in keeping us from those things. The therapeutic God just does not seem to really exist, even if we really like to think he does. But for the Christian, we do not base our beliefs on preferences, nor on wishful thinking, we base it on God’s revelation of himself. He has told us who he is. We do not have to play a guessing game; no wishful thinking is needed. So what has the biblical God told us about our tendency towards fear? There are passages, like the one cited above, that can make it feel like the God of the Bible really is the therapeutic God, who never wants us to worry, who will always keep us safe, and always comfort us. But there are other passages where it feels like the Bible is really trying to scare your pants off you. So what’s the deal?

Turns out, the Bible is not self-contradicting, saying one thing at one point and another thing at a different point. Surprisingly enough, we can find this very tension explicitly taught by our Master Teacher and he saw no contradictions: “I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more that they can do. 5 But I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him! 6 Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. 7 Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows” (Luke 12:4-7). Jesus, in almost the same breath, just commanded his disciples to fear (5) and to not fear (6-7). First and foremost, these verses from Christ clue us into the fact that we cannot over-simplify or reduce the biblical conception of fear. It’s not necessarily an either-or. In other words, God’s commands to fear or not to fear are in need of context. And Jesus gives those contexts pretty clearly in this passage.

In the context of this world, Jesus boldly calls us not to fear men. When confronted by the opposition or persecution of man, the believer is to stand firm knowing that ultimately, man has no power over her. After all, “What can mere man do to me?”. Well actually, a lot. Man can do a lot to you. And it can be really scary. And Jesus is not in the business of sugar coating, but he is in the business of eternal perspective. Take it from a guy who suffered the worst the world has to offer. The body they may destroy, but they have no power beyond it. So Jesus’ answer to a world of fearful people is not “they can’t hurt you!”, it’s: “In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

But there is another context for fear: fear before God, the kind of fear we are told is the beginning of all wisdom in the Old Testament. And in this context, fear is a little harder to pin down. What does Jesus say? First, he says “fear!” (12:5). He commands us to fear God. And it seems untenable that Jesus is merely referring to a sort of humble reverence here when he speaks of fear because he is talking about a God who has the power and authority not only to punish our earthly bodies, but our souls in hell. This seems like your typical fire and brimstone teaching. But right on the heels of verse 5, comes verse 6, a surprising combination: “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows”. Jesus goes from Jonathan Edwards to Joel Olsteen here real quick! One minute he’s preaching a God who can cast us into eternal fire, the next he is preaching a God who counts the hairs on head because he so dearly loves us. Confused yet?

What we need to understand in this passage is that Jesus sees both God’s terrifying power and his tender provision as important aspects of theology. And not only are these two attributes not contradictory, they are complimentary. For Jesus, the basis for his lack of fear is his fear. Let me say that in other words: Jesus can only tell us not to fear because he knows that the most dreadful enemy we could confront desires to be gracious to us. Think of it this way: you are going into a gruesome battle. One army is led by a commander of impressive wit and strategy. He is incredibly strong. He is undefeated on the battlefield. The other army is led by a commander with very little authority. He struggles to rally the troops. He has no plan. He is inexperienced and honestly quite weak. He is naively hopeful concerning the battle. Which army has more confidence going into battle? It’s clear: the army with the powerful leader. Would it help the morale of that army to try to ignore the fact that their leader is extremely powerful and mighty? No at all! In this context, their scary leader is a cause for comfort! The more they recognize how strong and equipped their leader is, the more they can rest that they will make it out of this battle alive. They do not downplay the strength and authority of their commander, they exalt it. When the scary one is on your side, it can be pretty darn comforting!

This may seem like a silly metaphor to apply to God. Are we really supposed to glory in how scary God can be? I think in some sense the answer is yes. It doesn’t help us at all to know that a weak God has counted the hairs on our head and looks over us. That’s sweet, but it doesn’t really help. It is nice that God does not forget about us, but does that really affect anything? God’s love and provision can only be as comforting as the reality of his power and authority. Because if God is not mighty, sadly, it doesn’t really matter all that much if he cares. But he is mighty. The most mighty. And that’s why it makes all the difference knowing that he cares. The most dreadful enemy is playing on our side. The biggest thing we have to fear is fighting on our team. Jesus thinks verses 6 and 7 (his statement of God’s tender provision) are best understood in light of verse 5 (his statement on God’s utter power and even his wrath).

It may be time for the church to reconsider the question of fear. If we are so uncomfortable with fire and brimstone that we ignore it, we end up watering down the message of God’s love without even realizing it. God’s love is so powerful precisely because he has the power to do otherwise. The reality of God’s love and provision is best understood when we realize that God is completely equipped to care for us. He is not weak. He is strong. Scary strong. But the strength of his right arm works on our behalf. The battle belongs to the Lord, and through Christ, thank God, that means that the battle belongs to us as well.

So to fear or to not fear? I’ll let you think about that one.



Advent: The Sequel

I have visited the country of Haiti 3 times and though it has been a couple years since, memories of the country and its people have come to the forefront of my mind this advent season. One of my favorite things about Haiti is the vibrant art they create in the midst of a dry and weary land. Along dirt roads, often lined with trash and which smell of feces, drove cars covered in bright colors and designs, as if a symbol of liveliness and hope despite the surrounding deterioration and helplessness. Many drivers acted as travelling evangelists, with “Merci, Jesus” plastered in bright yellow across the side of their bus. Christian art covered the most mundane parts of the villages, whether a taxi driver or a lottery ticket shack. And while I have seen plenty of fish stickers on people’s cars, I have never seen an American car with “Jesus, Come Back” painted above its windshield in bright and shining colors and bold font. And this was one of the most common messages written on Haitian vehicles: the message of the second coming. And it struck me that many Christians in America, never think much about the return of Christ, nor do they long for it. What did the people in Haiti have that we are missing?

The term “advent” in the Scriptures simply means “coming” or “arrival”, sometimes translated as “presence”. But it may surprise us to find out that the majority of uses of “advent” in the New Testament refer to the Second Coming of Christ, not to the coming we often anticipate in our season of advent before Christmas. It seems that the American West is more comfortable celebrating the coming of a little baby in a manger who preached love, grace, and peace to all, than we are to beckon the arrival of the Judge of the Earth, where he comes to separate the righteous and the wicked and to defeat his enemies. We may feel uncomfortable, even embarrassed, celebrating the harsh reality of the coming judgement. “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay everyone for what he has done” is likely not the verse on our bathroom mirror (Rev 22:12). But the New Testament authors are not ashamed to anticipate the next advent of our Lord, just as Haitian Christians are not. They take hope not just in the grace of our Lord, but in the judgement of our Lord. And they pray, beckoning his return, desperate for him to claim his rightful rule.

Make no mistake, the first advent and the coming advent are of the same God. The Word made Flesh in Bethlehem and The Warrior Judge coming on the clouds are one in the same person: the man Jesus Christ. We must caution ourselves that we never make love and judgment mutually exclusive, as our culture often does. Our God is a God of gentleness, love, and tender mercies, but our God is also a God of perfect righteousness, just anger, and holy wrath. Moses saw no contradiction when the Lord revealed himself as such, “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation” (Ex 34:6-7).

This advent season, may we not only reflect and prepare our hearts the first advent of our Savior (as we ought to do), but may we also long for and anticipate the advent still to come, when the baby in the manger who was worshipped by a few magi (Matt 2:11) will return and every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that He is Lord (Phil 2:9-11). May we glory in the humility and kindness of our God as he reaches out to us in mercy for our salvation in the first coming. But may we also glory in the power and judgement of our God who will return to finish what he started. Indeed, the last words of our Holy Book say it best:

He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.” (Rev 22:20).

John was ready for Jesus to return. The Haitians are ready for Jesus to return. And now we ought to ask ourselves, are we?



What Cancel Culture Can’t Provide

The rise of “cancel culture” is an interesting manifestation of society’s subconscious biblical yearnings. Behind the forces of cancel culture is our culture’s deep desire to identify sinners. And not only are these identified sinners supposed to display public confession and suffer public shame, but then they are isolated, “canceled”, from the rest of society. This is motivated by a longing to demarcate between the good guys and the bad guys and make sure the bad guys pay up. And turns out, this notion is not a new historical phenomenon, it’s rooted in the Bible. But broken from its original theological-biblical framework, cancel culture is just a secular attempt at atonement that has lost track of the grace that was in integral part of the original system of atonement. Our current political climate (on both sides of the isle!!!) is an expression of the age-old tension between justice and mercy. Humans naturally long for both. And sinful humans tend to long for justice for others and mercy for themselves! Ironic isn’t it. But nonetheless, deep down, we all long for justice and yet we all long for mercy too and this creates a tension within our hearts so much so that most people end up taking sides. Cancel culture has taken the “justice” side, supposedly. Cancel culture has carefully curated a list of offenses (built on the biblical notion of sin) that are not to be forgiven but are to be shamed and punished. The criminal is to be canceled, ostracized, and publicly rebuked. It’s almost as if we are back in Mosaic times and we are sending the “unclean” people outside the camp. But what this approach does not realize, because it has been divorced from its original source in Christianity, is that the Mosaic atonement system was determined to uphold both justice and mercy. It did not take sides.

While the atonement system of Leviticus certainly did demand that sins be paid for, God instituted a way of paying for sins that brought the sinner back to him, not drove him away from him. The purpose of atonement was reconciliation, not isolation. What society tends to think of as incompatible opposites (justice and mercy), the Bible sees as complimentary. While culture has decided to let the elites choose which offenses fall under the “justice” category and which offenses are no real offenses at all and should just be given unlimited mercy, the Bible’s system of atonement is built to give a sinner mercy while never compromising justice for even the smallest offense.

How can this be? How does the Bible resolve the tension between justice and mercy? How can sins be punished but the sinner be saved? The Apostle Paul put it this way, how could God be both “just and the justifier”? God must be just due to His perfect nature. But he also seeks to justify, to declare sinners innocent. How can he do both? It’s the Gospel: “through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God’s righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Rom 3:24-26). At the cross, justice and mercy meet. God satisfies His perfect moral standards by unleashing punishment and wrath on the sins of the world, but he sends out mercy because the man undergoing the justice does it as an innocent substitute for the guilty. At the cross, sins get paid for. Justice is done. But also at the cross, sinners get forgiven. Mercy is done. And so as Jesus takes His last breath on the tree, He declares, “It is finished”. Justice is finished. Mercy is finished. And neither at the expense of the other.

Cancel culture may not ever realize that the Gospel is the solution to it’s deepest yearnings, but you can. No matter where you fall along the political line, make sure your party doesn’t become your Gospel. When we allow our political commitments to take the place of the Gospel, we fail to realize that it is only at the cross where both justice and mercy can be perfectly upheld. It is only at the cross that our deepest needs can be met. Do not let any political movement make you think it’s found a better Gospel. All justice, cancel-culture, is no Gospel at all. All mercy, affirmation-culture, is no Gospel at all. Only the innocent man from Nazareth crucified is the Gospel. Don’t forget it. You’ve got something everyone wants (even if they don’t realize it). Cling to it.



A Reflection on Humility

Have you ever tried to define humility? It’s a pinnacle Christian virtue, and rightly so, but it seems most of us might not be able to define it with much precision. In a society that tends to focus on self-esteem, we tend to associate humility with low self-esteem and pride with high-self esteem. But there are a number of problems with this approach. The first being that the Bible universally condemns humanity for their pride. It is the disease of every human heart. But this does not match up with what we know about self-esteem. Many people today struggle with low self-esteem, with lack of confidence, and even self-loathe. So high self-esteem is not a universal problem, but the Bible claims pride is a universal problem. There must, therefore, be a distinction. Similarly, one of the most celebrated virtues of Christ is His humility. Does this mean that Jesus thought lowly of himself? That cannot be either. It seems the connection between self-esteem and biblical pride and humility is not as clear cut as we sometimes think. In Philippians 2, Paul gives what may be the best explanation of Christ-like humility in the Scriptures.  He commands the Philippian church: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (3-4). He then goes on to show Christ to be the ultimate prototype for a life of such humility because “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant” (6-7). 

The best way to define humility is to see what Paul associates it with in this text. First, it is contrasted with selfish ambition and conceit. These two vices are offspring of pride. The Greek word translated “selfish ambition” has to do with rivalry and therefore with a desire to win and for the other to lose. It refers to a self-interest that includes the disregard of or triumph over another. It is often used in the context of competition or division. The Greek word translated “conceit” is more literally “vainglory”. The word glory, transliterated “doxa”, indicates praise, honor, renown, or high repute. The word vain, “kenos”, indicates emptiness, worthlessness, or foolishness. When combined these terms refer to a type of recognition that serves arrogance and is ultimately futile. To pursue vainglory then, is to pursue praise and approval just for the sake of pumping up your ego. It is a sinful distortion of true glory. Both of these terms get at the essence of vicious pride. Pride is the disposition which sets others in terms of competition and rank against us. It is a self-centered point of view on life. Other people are not only your competitors, but are objects that you can use to boost your ego or objects that can threaten your ego. Pride looks for self-exaltation in the wrong places. Or it may be quick to self-deprecate because it is so focused on how it compares to others. It is obsessed with receiving approval and applause from others. So if humility is contrasted with an arrogant bend towards attention and reputation, then it makes sense that humility entails “count[ing] others more significant than yourselves.  Let[ting] each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (3-4). 

While we tend to think of humility in terms of self-esteem, as a way of thinking of ourselves, Paul associates it much more with a way of thinking of others. And therefore, humility is more about the priority of others rather than the superiority of others. Humility does not insist that we think of ourselves as inferior, though it does not demand that we are superior either. Paul does not command them to think poorly of themselves. He does not really say much about self-image at all, he just says to think more about others. This is reinforced when applied to Christ. Jesus, knowing His identity as God (a very high view of His identity!), nonetheless gives His life to the good and interest of others. Humility and greatness can go hand and hand. In fact, the greater a person is, the more impressive their humility becomes. That is why Christ’s humility will always surpass ours. Because not only does He care more about other people than we do, but He is much more worthy of His own self-love than we are. His commitment to the other is all the more praiseworthy because He is Himself so great that you might think He wouldn’t bother with us at all. Christ was equal with God, but that was not something He used to assert Himself over others. His position of superiority was not used for His agenda, rather He gave up a position of authority and became a servant. So while the Bible has plenty to say about how we ought to view ourselves, the discussion of humility versus pride is not so much about self-evaluation as it is self-absorption. Whether we love ourselves or hate ourselves, we are all so very focused on ourselves. Whether that means we are constantly in the center of the room, or if that means we hide in the corner, whether low self-esteem or high self-esteem, we all tend to see the world as centered upon us. Biblical humility calls us to consider another before considering ourselves, for that is what our Master has done.



The Messianic Secret

The Messianic Secret 

Have you ever wondered why Jesus seems so bent on keeping His identity a secret in the Gospels? And have you ever wondered why all of the sudden that changes at the Great Commission? One moment He charges them to tell no one, and the next He commands the disciples to trek to the ends of the earth to proclaim Him as the Christ and baptize people in His name. The Modern debate concerning Mark’s Gospel and the “Messianic Secret” dates back to the 1800s. And while scholars have argued over the significance of Jesus concealing His identity and this theme throughout the book of Mark, one important truth can be drawn from Mark’s Gospel and the “secrecy motif”. 

In Mark 8, after performing multiple miracles, Jesus and the disciples head towards Caesarea Philippi. On the way, Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” (8:27).  The men quickly rattle off a list of the popular opinions of the time, “some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others, one of the prophets” (8:28). But then Jesus presses further, “But who do you say that I am?” (8:29). And Peter, in a rare moment of perceptive wisdom, proclaims, “You are the Christ” (8:29). There it is! A confession of faith! But what follows Peter’s confession? “And he strictly charged them to tell no one about him” (8:30). Talk about anti-climactic. 

The teaching that directly follows this text will be key for interpreting the “messianic secret” in the book of Mark. Immediately following Peter’s proclamation of faith, Jesus “began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again. And he said this plainly” (8:31-32). This is the tension between concealing and revealing that undulates throughout Mark’s Gospel. Just after His charge to conceal His identity as the Christ, Jesus begins to teach “plainly” to the disciples about what His identity really entails. Just as He demands them to conceal His identity, He is also revealing His identity. 

Now that the disciples were clear that He was in fact the Promised Savior King of the Old Testament Scriptures (the “Christ”), Jesus needs to ensure that they also understand what this really means. And being aware of the popular misconceptions about the Messiah, He tells them to not spread the news quite yet until they are able to embrace the words of 8:31-32, concerning His suffering, death, and resurrection. And clearly, Jesus was right to assume their susceptibility to such misconceptions because directly following Peter’s glorious declaration of Jesus’ Messiahship, he pulls Jesus aside to rebuke Him concerning this crazy talk of persecution and death. He rebukes Jesus for such crude talk; no such thing will happen to the Christ! God forbid! 

Sadly, Peter’s belief in Jesus as the Christ was fogged by the cultural expectations of his day so much so that he had the audacity to rebuke His Master, the very Master he just proclaimed to be the Christ! Peter was too offended at the idea of a crucified Christ to let this kind of talk slide. A suffering Messiah was an oxymoron to him- completely incomprehensible. It just could not be. Jesus’ response to Peter’s rebuke is surprisingly harsh: “Get behind me Satan!” (8:33). He just called Peter Satan! In what way had Peter messed with demonic forces? He wanted to change the nature of salvation and the mission of the Messiah. He wanted atonement with no cross. He wanted propitiation with no punishment. He wanted a win with no loss. But to distract Jesus from the mission for which he came was to play the role of the devil and Jesus would have none of it. 

The reason for the Messianic Secret should become more clear to us after considering this passage. Jesus did not want the disciples going out and proclaiming a false Gospel and He knew that the true Gospel was going to be hard for them to swallow. It was not all glitz and glam. It was not initially all about conquering and trampling over their enemies. The road to victory had to stop at the cross first. And it wasn’t until the disciples could embrace that truth that they would receive the commandment, “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation” (16:15). Are you anything like the disciples? Are you too eager for triumph that you won’t look the cross in the face? Are you so bent on winning that you forget the call to “lose your life” first, just as your Master did (8:35)? There is no Gospel without the cross. And there is no Gospel without the resurrection. May we never be ashamed of our King who was willing to be treated as a peasant for our sake. May we never be ashamed of the Conqueror who would willingly lose on our behalf. May we never be ashamed of the true Gospel, “for whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him will the Son of Man also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels” (8:38).



Suffering Well

The book of Lamentations is a largely ignored and neglected canonical book of the Old Testament. It does not serve much of a purpose in a society so fixated on the therapeutic, like our own. But the growing American obsession with happiness has not seemed to achieve that great of happiness after all. We live in a consumerist culture where satisfaction is the goal of our entire life, whether our sexuality, our careers, our marriages, or even our church life. We are determined to be happy. And yet in a nation that seeks to give your heart all of its desires, satisfaction is still far from guaranteed. But we insist on our ways, and so it is not surprising that the only verses most Western Christians have ever heard of from the book of Lamentations is the singular glimmer of hope found in chapter 3: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (3:22-23). If only we had taken the time to read what the rest of the book was about. Turns out it is a gruesome reflection on the reality of the beloved city of Jerusalem being looted and destroyed while the people within it are either dying or being scattered abroad. Maybe after understanding that context, we could find the beauty of chapter 3 verse 22 all the more striking and profound. Maybe a book like Lamentations could offer a much needed corrective to our therapeutic society. 
 
What no English reader could notice about the book of lamentation is that it is made up of 4 acrostic poems and then concluded in chapter 5 by a typical communal lament that was common in the Ancient Near East. Chapters 1, 2, and 4 are all 22-verse acrostic poems using the consecutive letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Standing in between chapters 2 and 4 is the elongated acrostic within chapter 3. Rather than including 22 verses, chapter 3 triples the length of the acrostic, having 3 lines each that all begin with the same letter, and therefore making up 66 verses. It seems that this structure and form of the book of Lamentations might offer us some insight on how to suffer well– a topic that a therapeutic society does not often consider.
 
The fact that the author of Lamentations wrote such a horrifying reflection on suffering largely in the poetic device of acrostic poems, suggests that the author clings to the reality of order, stability, and beauty despite the chaos and upheaval he sees in the world. The acrostic gives him a way to express his grief, anger, and frustration in a beautiful poetic structure that implicitly reminds him that the disarray he currently experiences will not always triumph. Chaos and suffering will not have the last word, despite the gruesome reality that they indeed are. In this way, the author does not hold back in the slightest in expressing the depth of suffering and grief he has witnessed or personally experienced. But the poetic nature of the acrostic suggests that behind his raw experience of suffering is a confidence of a God who will establish order and peace. Indeed, this seems to be why chapter 3 gets triple the amount of space than any other chapter. It is the focal point of the book. The afflicted man of chapter 3 is the archetype of a suffering believer who acknowledges the severity of suffering and leaves plenty of room for anguish and despondency, but will nonetheless call to mind the steadfast love of the Lord. Verse 20 is clear that the sufferer is not practicing avoidance nor repression. But verse 21 insists that he also does not avoid nor repress the reality of who his God is. And this is where we find the beautiful words of the classic hymn we all know and love: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (3:22-23).
 
But we do a disservice to the book of Lamentation when we only read verses 22 and 23, or even only read chapter 3 for that matter! There is much to be learned from chapter 1, 2, 4, and 5. And we will only understand the impact of chapter 3 when we have also understood the impact of the rest of the book. The content surrounding chapter 3 compares the suffering of the city of Jerusalem to a widow, a sexually assaulted woman, and a fleeing refugee. It mentions children dying in the streets, people eating garbage, even the reality of cannibalism. The author even proclaims that God has “forgotten” and “abandoned” his people. These are not statements to be taken lightly. May we understand the gravity of such suffering to understand the gravity of such hope shown in chapter 3. And may we grant ourselves the same time to face the reality of suffering fully, instead of hiding from it. But may we also “call to mind” and “therefore have hope” the steadfast love and mercies of our God who turns suffering into flourishing, pain into joy, and death into life. Christ did not stay in the tomb. Neither will we. Better is coming. Even the afflicted man of Lamentations reminded himself of that. 
 

The book of Lamentations ends with a plea for restoration: “But you, O Lord, reign forever; your throne endures to all generations. Why do you forget us forever, why do you forsake us for so many days? Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old—unless you have utterly rejected us, and you remain exceedingly angry with us” (5:19-22). The Christian, too, can proclaim these verses of desperation and pleading as they experience suffering and confusion, just as the people of Jerusalem did. But the Christian can utter these questions in a fuller confidence of God’s answer, knowing the Gospel that used great suffering for great good. Take heart. He really is working all things out for good. 



Behind the Scenes

The book of Ruth is an intriguing book for a number of reasons: it is an ancient narrative written from a fairly feminine perspective with female main characters and a female example of virtue, it is a story of an obscure foreigner who ends up playing a key role in Israel’s and redemption’s history, and it is an ode to the courageous faithfulness of a young woman to her destitute mother-in-law. But my favorite feature of the Book of Ruth is that it is a behind the scenes record of hope in an otherwise chaotic and hopeless time. The book begins with two key contextual notes: It is the time of the Judges. And it is a time of famine. If you’ve ever taken a gander through the book of Judges, you know it’s not the best children’s Bible study curriculum. It is gruesome, brutal, and in some places quite disgusting. It is a bleak time in Israel’s history; indeed, “In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 17:6). It was a period of disorder, confusion, and violence. Israel was in desperate need of a king to rule over them faithfully and righteously. And not only does the book of Ruth take place in this period of anarchy, but it also happens to be a time of famine. Talk about despair and hopelessness. God’s people are facing societal upheaval and physical deprivation. As one might expect from its contextual introduction, the book Ruth begins on a low note. It starts with multiple deaths. An Israelite woman named Naomi loses her husband and two sons in just the first 5 verses of the book. Things are bad.

But it is within this context that a story of faith, loyalty, mercy, and love begins. It is a glimmer of hope in the midst of darkness. It shows us the eyes of God as He governs history towards His ends and for His glory. It is a picture of His mysterious Providence in times of trouble. Indeed, it is a reminder that in the midst of a time where it seems He has abandoned His people to their own devices, He is the one working behind the scenes to provide for the very needs they currently face. Just as Israel persists in her sin and rebellion against God and so suffers the debilitating consequences of national anarchy, God is simultaneously making the way of redemption by establishing a stable monarchy through one faithful woman in one hard place. In fact, her great-grandson would become the greatest king of all of Israel’s history and a foreshadowing of the righteous reign of the Messiah. It would be her great-grandson, King David, that would receive the promise “your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever” (2 Sam 7:16). How ironic is it that in a time of anarchy and government disarray, God was working to bring about the king who would inaugurate the line of the Savior King Jesus Christ? How wonderful is it to read Ruth’s name in the genealogy of Christ in Matthew’s Gospel account (Matt 1:5)? Little did Israel know. Little did Ruth know. Little did David know. Little do we know.

What is the lesson from this book’s theology of God’s Providence? The lesson is simple: you often don’t see it, but when times are tough, God is working behind the scenes for your good and His glory, to bring about His promises, and to fulfill your deepest needs in this moment. His Providence is often inscrutable. We rarely are aware of the grand Kingdom victories that are unfolding in the lives of faithful individuals before our own eyes. We are such a tiny puzzle piece is His Master Puzzle of Redemption. Take heart, faithful Christian, even when you don’t see it, He’s working.

Do you think America has been abandoned by God? Do you think our nation is disintegrating into chaos? Has CO-VID declared war on the kingdom of God? Is it winning? Has God forgotten His plan of redemption? Oh no. America is not God’s chosen people, but His church is. He will not abandon us. He will not forsake us. In fact, in the moments when we are most confused about what He is doing, He is doing something great. He is using the lives of faithful individuals to bring our salvation. Trust and obey.

“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!

 “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?”

“Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?

 For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen” (Romans 11:33-36).