Icon of the Resurrection

(Apologies on the long post, but the Resurrection warrants it. Feel free to bookmark this post and come back to it if time is needed to read it. This is also partially an excerpt from a yet-to-be-published manuscript I’ve written [if anyone is interested, let me know], so I hope you enjoy)

It may seem an odd time to write about Easter, considering it’s nearly midnight (EST United States) and that Easter was a week ago. However, for those who don’t follow the Western calendar, Easter, or better known as Pascha in the East, will begin tonight at midnight. The Pascha service is always celebrated a week after Passover for the very simple reason that this is how it occurred in the Bible.

That being said, as some may note I recently wrote about the failure of Greater Good Theodicies. As for a workable solution for the problem of evil, tonight’s celebration serves as both the explanation and the solution for the problem of evil. While philosophers have debated as to how an all-powerful, all-benevolent God could allow evil to exist for centuries, that all-powerful, all-benevolent God answered these philosophical inquiries by dying on a cross and raising from the dead.

How is it that evil exists within this world? Sadly, it exists because we allow it to exist. When we talk of “good” and “evil,” we must remember that we are talking about substance vs. non-substance, that is to say that “good” actually exists whereas evil is simply the privation of that good. What is good? Goodness is an attribute of God, thus God is good; God is present and active in all the acts of goodness that we see. Thus, when we choose evil, we are choosing to work against God. Since we were endowed with free will (which deserves another post on why free will creatures who can sin are better than determined beings who cannot sin), we can actively choose to limit God’s interactions with this world. While this doesn’t limit His presence and while His sovereignty is not infringed (as He can act against our actions, though not in an overbearing way as to negate free will), it does mean that God allows us autonomy. In fact, that is the root of all sin, that we desire autonomy from God. God grants us this autonomy, and the consequences of our desires is what we call evil. We are the cause of evil.

But what of natural evil? What of tsunamis and tornadoes? What of animal suffering? The answer to this goes back to creation; as we were created in the image of God to hold dominion over the earth, our actions were tied to the outcome of creation. In our sin, we negatively impacted creation and subjected it to sin. While we in the West love individualism, we must understand that individualism is not an accurate picture of life. We are tied to each other and creation. While we are each individuals, we are not autonomous individuals. Tomorrow when I eat carrots and green beans, my choice in that impacts those who canned the food, picked the food, grew the food, and even impacts the land itself. Thus, in our choice to sin and choose autonomy from God, it only follows that nature would also be impacted. (All of this deserves an academic approach, and one is coming within the next months; suffice it to say, however, that this post is not meant to be academic).

The new atheists have taken this argument of evil up as their rallying cry. “God is not great,” they explain. “He’s evil because He allows evil, therefore He doesn’t exist.” All of this, however, only shows unwillingness on the part of the atheists (and other critics) to explore the Biblical reason for evil. The Bible is clear that God is very aware of the evil in the world, but He uses it to display His love. Sometimes He takes what was meant for evil and turns it into good (Romans 8:28). While this doesn’t deny gratuitous evil, nor am I saying that every instance of evil is allowed because it will cause a greater good, I am saying that the ultimate reason for allowing evil is because He created us with free wills, wills that are free to choose Him or deny Him.

In His perfect knowledge, God allowed evil to occur so that we might experience His love in a fuller way.[1] While the Fall wasn’t necessary for us to feel God’s love perfectly, it does allow us to see that God loves us via sacrifice. The Fall opened the doors for God to sacrifice by sending His only begotten Son to live, suffer, and die on our behalf. While the Fall was not necessary, our sinful action(s) necessitated a loving response from God.

Thus, God allowed evil so He could experience evil and in so doing we could experience His love. We all endure evil, but how quickly we forget that God has experienced evil greater than any of us could fathom. He has been the victim of His creation. Furthermore, when He took on human flesh He participated in our sufferings. The same flesh that is destroyed in genocide is the flesh that Christ took on. It is not as though God allowed evil and then removed Himself from the experience; rather, He allowed evil and then put Himself at the center of its suffering.

We look into the Garden of Eden and see God allowing humanity to fall and ask “Why?” God points to the Garden of Gethsemane and says, “This is why.” The Son took on all the sins of the world and was separated from the Father. What greater evil is there than for an innocent to suffer for the sake of the guilty? Yet Christ did this out of His love and His own willingness. Though we experience evil, evil that we think others could never fathom, God has suffered much more. This is not so He can brag or say, “Tough it out, I’ve had it worse,” but instead so we know that He can truly sympathize with us and that we can trust Him to get us through an experience of evil.

It wasn’t just the physicality of the cross that was the greatest evil – because others have suffered more – but the spiritual nature of the cross and what was occurring on the cross that none of us have ever experienced that makes it the greatest evil to have ever happened on this earth.

Imagine a child walking with her father while eating her ice cream. She trips a little and the ice cream falls off her cone. To her this is a great evil, but the father, being older, has experienced much worse. She can sit there and wonder, “Why would my father allow me to trip and lose my ice cream?” or she can trust him. She can turn to her father, she can cry to him, she can reach out to him and beg for him to hold her since he too has experienced evil. And being a loving father who has experienced far greater evil, he can sympathize with her and help her through it.

Or we can think of when we lose our parents to a disease. For many, the loss of a parent comes after we’ve become adults and experienced some life with them. But the evil that befalls us pales in comparison to those who lose their parents at a young age or to those who have their parents abandon them. We all experience personal evils on a different level. We all react to those evils differently, so it’s hard to say that one evil is worse than another. But we can look to the cross and say that, without a doubt, the greatest evil to ever occur on earth occurred on the cross when the creation murdered the Creator, the guilty crucified the innocent, the perpetrators of evil destroyed the Good.

Yet, while the cross is the greatest act of evil, it is also the cure to the problem of evil. On the cross we see evil try to reign triumphal, but it had been defeated without knowing it. The empty grave of Christ stands as a testament to the defeat of evil.[2]

While we experience actual evil and suffering from it, we must remember that the love of God can overcome any evil. When we come before the Lord on our knees and cry out, “Dear Lord, why has this befallen upon me,” He doesn’t chastise us, He doesn’t turn His back to us, He responds, “My child, I love you and I have endured it as well; come and lay your weary head upon my chest.” Rather than questioning God’s very existence because of evil, we should humbly and lovingly turn to Him for comfort, for He has already endured our pain and so much more.

Christ wasn’t bashful concerning the problem of evil, rather than attempting to explain it away by some complex theodicy He offered Himself as a theodicy. In Matthew 11:28-30, He says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Thus, God does not shy away from the problem of evil, but instead He answers it by telling us to come to Him. Only within the Christian faith does the problem of evil have a real solution; in some other faiths (or lack of faiths) the solution is to explain that evil doesn’t really exist, or that we must appease some totalitarian god. In Christ we learn that we are the cause of evil, but that He is the solution, not through appeasement, but through rest.

The answer to the problem of evil isn’t found in a clever syllogism or in a preacher’s aphorism, rather the answer is a Man; the ultimate answer to the question of evil, the best theodicy one can give, is a bloody cross and an empty tomb.

He is a God who can be trusted. We know why He allows evil to exist on a grand scale, but why specific evils? Why does He allow pain and misery to come upon our individual lives? Job asked this same question and only God could provide an answer. His answer was, “Trust Me.” After all, who are we to find fault in God (Job 40:2)? He is perfect and we are imperfect. His ways are not our ways and His knowledge is infinitely more than our own (Isaiah 55:8-9). God is good because God is love, so in times of evil He is all we have to rely on.[3]

The critics of God would have a point about evil if God allowed evil and left us there. If God allowed evil to enter the world and offered no way out of this world, then truly He would be cruel. He would be no better than a child burning the antennas off ants. But that is not the God we worship. God has offered a way out of this evil world; He has offered a way that defeats evil. The ultimate answer to the problem of evil is Jesus Christ; He faced evil on the cross and defeated it when He rose from the grave. Evil has already been defeated, we are merely waiting for the fulfillment of this defeat (Revelation 20:10, 14).

God is Love

The explanation to the problem of evil – God’s love – might seem a bit weird, but we cannot forget that love is behind everything God does. While He does do everything for His glory, it is equally true to say that He does everything out of His love. We cannot separate the attributes of God, thus everything He does displays both His glory and His love.

God created everything out of love. He created because He loved the Son and wished to honor the Son, but the Son wasn’t sitting on the sidelines. The Father spoke everything into existence through His Word (Jesus Christ) in the power of the Holy Spirit. God accomplished this out of love for Himself, with the Persons of the Trinity working in perfect harmony. But He also created simply for the love of creation. He is an artist. We look at certain things in nature and wonder, “Why would God do this?” But when we look at a painting, very rarely do we go, “I wonder why the artist did this.” We simply sit back and enjoy the art. It is the same with creation. We don’t have to ascribe a pragmatic purpose to everything; we can simply sit back and enjoy the artistic display of our Lord. Creation is art painted by the love of God.

God then created humans out of love. He didn’t have to create intelligent beings who were capable of having a relationship with Him, but He chose to. He did this out of love for us. He created us as a display of His perfect love; we are to love His creation, love each other, love ourselves, and love Him.

In all of this, He allowed us to fall. It is His love that allowed us to fall, for how loving would God be if He forced us to follow Him? Contrary to recent claims, God is no tyrant. When Adam and Eve rebelled, He didn’t kill them and start over. God didn’t create little robots that would follow His every command. Some people post the question, “Couldn’t God have created free beings who just didn’t have the capacity to rebel?” Common sense would dictate that if we never had the capacity to rebel then we wouldn’t truly be free, at least not if that was our starting point.[4] No, God gave us the freedom to rebel because He would rather have a willful servant than a mindless slave (Isaiah 1:18).

He allowed us to rebel because He knew it would allow Him to display His love. He knew that in our rebellion He could display the ultimate sacrifice – the giving of His only begotten Son. He wanted to display His love for us that even while we rebelled against Him, He would die for us (Romans 5:8). Even while we spat in His face, even while we hurled insults, even while we mocked Him, even while we questioned who He was, He loved us so much that He would sooner remain on the cross than come down and destroy us.

He took on the form of a man out of love. The Son emptied Himself of His divine attributes so that He might experience life with us. He is not some transcendent God without immanence, some unloving God who refuses to experience life as we do. Rather, God “got His hands dirty” by taking on flesh, but He did this out of love. He experienced our pain. He blistered under the heat. All that it is to be human, He did so, but without sin.

He became human so that He could ultimately die for us. Once again, love is the motivating factor. Out of love, Christ stood before Pilate falsely accused. Out of love, Christ bore a crown of thorns and was whipped. Out of love He marched up to Golgotha to hang on a cross. Out of love He let the soldiers put nails through His hands. Out of love He bore our transgressions. Out of love He was forsaken on our behalf. Out of love God came down to this earth and died for His rebellious creation. Out of love He rose from the grave. And out of love He bestows the effects of His actions onto us.

The Father’s love for the Son is what moved the stone away from the tomb. It was their love for each other that Christ raised physically from the dead to sit at the right hand of the Father. It is out of love that Christ’s resurrection is our way to salvation, the way to perfect reconciliation with the Father. God didn’t have to offer this to us, but He chose to because He loves us.

Because God loves us, we too are supposed to love others. He calls us to be representatives of His love this side of eternity. We are to love everyone. It is easy to love the lovable, but we are called to love the unlovable. We are a parent to the orphans. We are a liberator to the oppressed. We are a friend to the lonely. We are a comforter to the criminal. But we are also to love the corrupt CEO who fires employees so he can make a profit. We are to display love to our oppressors. While we must fight against the corruption of this world, we must never forget that we are still called to love our enemies. We are a lover to all, from the highest of society to the lowest, from the most virtuous among us to the darkest criminals in the deepest cells. To all, we are an example of God’s love on this earth.

It is love that compels God to bring us into eternal fellowship with Him, into the Divine community of the Trinity. How kind it would be of Him to merely destroy our souls once this life is over. How justified He would be in such an action. But he invites us into a perfect eternal fellowship with Him where we will forever love Him. Love is the focal point of every action of God. Everything He does, from His justice to His creation, from His revelation to His transcendent nature; every action of God is tied up to His love. If love is the focal point of God’s actions, then it should be the focal point for our actions as well. Though we will fail at this – because who can love like God? – we are to strive toward loving others as Christ has loved us.

An Eternal Love

God is the purpose of life. When we wander around, wondering what our purpose on this earth is, we can realize that He is everything. He is our end and everything else is a means. He fulfills us, He gives us rest from this weary life. Christ calls out to us, to us sinners, and says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” It is a comforting thought that God would care for us so much that He would make such an invitation. It is easy to feel overwhelmed in this world. All of us have our hearts clouded by sin and by pain; to this Christ makes the invitation to come and rest in Him.

The invitation of Christ isn’t an invitation into a bunch of “do’s” and “do not’s,” but rather an invitation into a relationship. We enter into a relationship with Him and with His body, the Church. In so doing, we begin to live as though the Kingdom has come. This relationship is more than the following a moral code or saying a prayer for the forgiveness of our sins and then hoping for Heaven; certainly these are a part of the relationship, but they do not summarize the entire relationship. A honeymoon is only part of the married life; it is an important part, but not the entire thing. Likewise, asking Christ to forgive us our sins and walking the “straight and narrow” is a part of being a Christian, but not the entire thing. We obey Christ out of love, not out of obligation.

God’s love for us transcends time. He loved us before He created us (1 Peter 1:18-20). What sinner would dare dream of a God who would love us before we even existed? God is what sinners dare not dream. Everything in Scripture points to God’s working toward the fulfillment of His love in Christ on the cross. His plan is what we could never fathom. His love is eternal and we can never be separated from it. What better way to conclude with a passage from Paul (Romans 8:18-39):

 For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.  Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised— who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?… No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

May it be so as we pursue the Eternal and seek to be with Him unto ages of ages. Amen.

Even the idea of “bringing Christ to the people” seems like something that can be bastardized by American Christianity. In fact, one could imagine multiple lesson plans, structures, programs, and campaigns organized to “bring Christ to the people.” It would culminate in taking our American Jesus with our American ideals to a non-American society and encouraging them to become good American Christians. Sadly, many people unintentionally link their Patriotism to their faith, leading to a sentimentality that is no different than that of the general’s in Stanely Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket. The general says, “We are here to help the Vietnamese, because inside every [Vietnamese] there is an American trying to get out.” Of course, I edited out the racial epithet, but it does underscore what I believe is a mentality within American Christianity.

Now, I could prolong this post by going on and on about the problems with American Christianity. I could point out that we’ve developed this prosperity Gospel. I could show how we’ve become too comfortable with our position in the world. I could speak more and more about the problem of blending the culture with the Gospel, rather than letting the Gospel impact and change the culture. Ultimately, however, there is simply one big problem with American Christianity, and the problem with American Christianity is that a thing such as American Christianity exists. That we can put a cultural adjective before the word “Christianity” is a shame; we wouldn’t want to think of “Japanese Christianity” or “Canadian Christianity” because we would view this as mixing the culture and the Gospel, but this is what has happened with us in America.

Thus, the scariest part about following Christ and truly living as He desires is that in order to be a good Christian, you sometimes have to be a horrible patriot. In order to follow Christ and be true to Him, you sometimes have to be culturally insensitive or even counter-cultural. If the culture says “do this,” but Christ says “do that,” then we must do that which He commands. Many people may think they are tracking with me on this issue. They may think, “Right, like how the Germans mixed the culture too much in WWII and followed Hitler,” or “Right, if the government demanded I abandon Christ I wouldn’t do it.” Certainly this hits the bigger issues, but these are extreme and far-fetching examples. Rather, I am thinking about the underlying currents of these movements; for instance, what created the precedence that allowed German citizens who worshiped Christ to also murder their fellow man?

Look at American culture and consider how much we’ve wrapped our Christianity with the American flag. Imagine if you were walking along the southern border in Texas and heard a story about an illegal immigrant who took a border patrol agent to the hospital. Imagine this story was posted on a conservative news site. While some comments would be reasonable, the overwhelming majority of them would condemn the illegal immigrant for being within our borders, yet many of these naysayers would claim Christ. Apparently they forgot the shocking narrative of the “Good Samaritan,” the fact that “Samaritans” were hated and despised in ancient Israel. In this way we have allowed our culture to wrap up our Christianity; while protecting the border is important, what is far more important is showing compassion and love to those who are outcast (from a Christian perspective).

Alternatively, we can imagine a CEO inviting a “preacher-of-the-people” over to his house to eat. Furthermore, imagine that this CEO bragged about ripping people off to get where he was. Yet, he found this preacher and wanted to dine with him, so he had this preacher come over to his house, feeding this preacher food paid for by money taken from other people. Imagine this story found its way onto a liberal website and imagine the comments you’d get then. Many people would condemn the preacher and say that he abandoned the Gospel because he was dining with someone who had exploited people. Apparently they forgot the shocking act of Zacchaeus (you know, that wee little man) and how Jesus dined with a tax collector, who openly admitted to stealing from people (though he repented). While stopping corporate injustice (where it exists – not all corporations are evil, nor are all CEOs) is important, what is far more important is showing compassion and love to the exploiters that they might stop exploiting (from a Christian perspective).

For these reasons, following Christ in any true sense is a scary activity, which is why few people (including myself) attempt it with any seriousness. And that is quite the shame. In our refusal to abandon the shackles of our culture and embrace the freedom of Christ, we’ve caused the world to grow weary of our version of Christianity. Sadly, the world can’t see that we are offering a cheap trick, a mere substandard imitation of the original. To put it as G.K. Chesterton put it, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried…Men have not got tired of Christianity; they have never found enough Christianity to get tired of.”

What does it mean to abandon one’s culture and follow Jesus? For Christ, it meant being around prostitutes and tax collectors, around adulterous women and Samaritans, around live-in girlfriends and even Pharisees. For the early Church, it meant being around slaves and Barbarians, around Roman Governors and Gentiles. For us it might mean being around Muslims (even the extremists) and illegal immigrants. It might mean we have to be around abortionists and corrupt CEOs. We might have to befriend Iranians, Iraqis, or Russians. We may need to serve AIDS victims who acquired the disease through promiscuity or by no fault of their own. In other words, to save one’s culture, one must abandon the same culture.

The scary aspect of following Christ is that it is one giant paradox. In our infidelity to our culture we are displaying the greatest act of love. We are telling the culture, “I cannot accept you as you are, but I love you enough to change you into who you ought to be.” To adapt the Gospel to our culture is an act of hateful melancholy because it robs the culture of the true power that Christ offers. To adapt the culture to the Gospel by abandoning one’s culture is an act of love because it rescues the culture from its current position.

If our churches were to start showing more concern for helping their local community than building a bigger sanctuary, then the world would see Christianity. If our people were as concerned over visiting the hospitals (especially terminally ill patients who have no one with them in their moment of need) as they are over their small group meetings, then perhaps the world would consider Christ. Instead, we have ended up with a form of Christianity that focuses on the self and what the self can get out of church. The irony is that American Christianity is pragmatic in all things except in actually living out its faith. Faith isn’t something we work through, but rather something that simply is. Faith almost becomes a state of being, that we’ve said a prayer, we trust in God, and now we’re on the finance committee.

If we wish to see our culture saved, we must abandon it. We must reach out to those who are different from us, even those who would call themselves our enemies. We must begin to live our faith by helping those who can’t help themselves. We must reach out to both the oppressed and the oppressors, calling on both to find brotherhood in Christ.

Following Christ is a scary thing because it requires us to go against everything we’ve learned and grown up with. It’s scary because the things we’ll come to believe and come to say will alienate those closest to us, especially those who are fellow Christians wrapped up in the culture. What is scarier, however, is thinking that rather than letting Christ turn us into His image, we would rather wrap Him in our nation’s flag and make Him into our own image.

Would Christ go to the Republican National Convention? Would He partake in the march against homosexual marriage? Would Jesus really Occupy Wall Street? Would He mock the Republican candidates, or call Obama a Nazi? If we easily see Christ doing any of these things, we must ask ourselves if we are worshiping a Christ of our own invention; if we cannot see Christ doing these things, we must ask why we choose to do so in His stead.

God is omnipotent and powerful, there is no denying that; but out of His love to us He is weak. It is in this weakness that He is ultimately, eternally, and infinitely strong. Love makes one weak because by its very nature it requires sacrifice and self-giving. In the mere act of creation we see God’s weakness displaying His strength. With the mere mention of creation, He brings it about, yet the act itself is one of sacrifice. Here we see His strength in creation, but His weakness in sacrifice.

On the cross we see the strength of God crushing sin of death, but this strength is only seen due to the weakness of His love, His willingness to die on our behalf that He might remove death from our nature.

I am not trying to say that God is not omnipotent – far from it – but instead drawing light to the fact that within the bounds of love the world could turn upside down; what is strong could be weak and what is weak could be strong. In a strong world, in the world of the Übermensch (Nietzsche’s “Superman”), the one who is able to enforce his will on others is the strong one. In a weak world, the one Christ displayed to us, the greater the servant, the more power he has. This is quite the paradox, that the weaker we act, the stronger we really are. Such is the mystery of God’s love.

Where does this leave us Christians in the 21^st century? Should we continue to make power plays for political offices? Should we continue to push “our guy” to take charge of the nation? Should we pray for the day that we control the schools, the government, and make this a “Christian nation” once again (or for the first time)? Is this really what the strengthening weakness of love looks like?

Perhaps we as Christians need to reconsider what it is to have strength. Perhaps we need to realize that strength is found in weakness. Hope is not found in acquiring a political goal, but in the self-emptying act of service towards those who cannot repay us.

The love of God is weak enough to cause God to stoop down to become a man. It is weak enough to grab that girl who suffers from life. It is weak enough to cause our all-powerful God to serve humans (for what is love if not service?). The love of God is weak enough to look at the young man intent on a life of self-destruction and long for the young man to turn around to his original purpose, which is Christ. The love of God is weak enough to wander through the hospital wards soothing the broken bodies, sacrificing for the sick, and giving grace to those who can no longer continue.

The love of God is weak enough to take the almighty Eternal and place Him within the womb of the Theotokos. The love of God is weak enough to cause the Eternal to walk where we walk, to experience the pain that numerous victims worldwide have experienced. The love of God is weak enough to cause Christ to give His life that we might have life. But the love of God is strong enough to ensure that all of this has an actual, eternal effect.

The love of God is strong enough to grab the girl who suffers from life and give her a new life. It is strong enough to draw humans to love God as well and serve Him (for what is love if not service?). The love of God is strong enough to look at the vapid young man and convict him of his ways; it is strong enough to turn the young man from death to life. The love of God is strong enough to wander through hospital wards proclaiming that He is the ultimate healer, that in His love all will be made whole someday.

The love of God is strong enough to shape and save our nature through His glorious Incarnation.  The love of God is strong enough to cause us to walk where the Eternal has walked and is walking. The love of God is strong enough to cause Christ to raise from the dead that we might have life.

If God’s love displays His eternal strength through weakness, then what should this say of us mere Christians? Shall we continue to pursue the power on display in the world? Certainly there is nothing wrong with standing up for justice in the public square, but should this be our primary vehicle for displaying God’s love?

Christ came down as a king, but never claimed the seat of Rome. He came down as a ruler, but to a kingdom without a border. Christ came down as the Lawgiver, yet made no declarations or decrees for the nations to follow. If we become a people who seek after kingships, after controlling borders, after laws then we have forgotten what Christ accomplished.

The millions of humans who are abducted into slavery every day don’t need another Christian song or another tract; they desperately need the love of God to rescue them from their plight and restore their humanity. The millions of homeless people don’t need another sermon on how they’re worthless or how trusting in God will make things better; they need food, they need shelter, they need help (even if they’re crazy, this doesn’t make them not human; all are fallen from God, so all are crazy in degrees, the man who mumbles to himself is only slightly crazier than you). Those who are hurting, lost, in despair, wondering about the next paycheck, suffering from abuse, don’t need another law, another rally, another city to occupy, another mega-church, another politician to save us all; they need only Christ, they need His love, they need His followers to cease seeking after the worldly idea of power and instead become weak that they might truly become strong.

In short, the world doesn’t need more Christians attempting to live up to the standards of their culture; it needs more Christians attempting to live up to the standards of Christ. The world needs people who display their strength in their weakness, and this is only possible through Divine love.

Pain in the Offering

Pride lies at the heart of nearly all of the devisions we find in the Church.  We Christians are often too quick to judge those who differ from us and place far to much stock in our own vain opinions.  We blatantly ignore the One who binds us together as one body, the creator and savior of the universe, our Lord, who commands us to be humble, and opt, instead, to cast a critical and unrelenting eye on anyone we meet whose theology deviates from our own in only the slightest degree.  Quite frankly, we Christians tend to think far more of ourselves, and of our own private interpretations and opinions, than we should.  We suffer from a deplorable, and often vehement, lack of humility–I invite you to mediate on the profound words of Thomas A Kempis in the eighth chapter of his master work The Imitation of Christ:

“Do not consider yourself better than others, for you may be worse in God’s sight.  Do not be proud of your good works, for often what pleases us displeases God, Whose judgments differ from the judgment of humans.  Whatever goodness or virtue is in you, believe that your neighbor has better qualities; in this way you will preserve humility.

It will not hurt you to consider yourself worse than others, even if this is not really so; bu it will hurt greatly if you prefer yourself above another, although that person might be a great sinner.  A humble person is a peaceful person; but the hearts of the proud are full of envy and resentment.”

Today I wanted to pass on this beautiful prayer that my wife shared with me.  She read it in a devotional book by Molly Sabourin entitled Close to Home which I highly recommend.  It is the prayer of Metropolitan Philaret of the Orthodox Church.  Please read it carefully, meditate on its content, and make it the cry of your heart.

My Lord, I know not what I ought to ask of Thee.  Thou and Thou alone knowest my needs.  Thou lovest me more than I am able to love Thee.  O Father, grant unto me, Thy servant, all which I cannot ask.  For a cross I dare not ask, nor for consolation; I dare only to stand in Thy presence.  My heart is open to Thee.  Thou seest my needs of which I myself am unaware.  Behold and lift me up!  In Thy presence I stand, awed and silenced by Thy will and Thy judgments, into which my mind cannot penetrate.  To Thee I offer myself as a sacrifice.  No other desire is mine but to fulfill Thy will.  Teach me how to pray.  Do Thyself pray within me.  Amen.

“For they [the ungodly or atheists] reasoned unsoundly saying to themselves, ‘Short and sorrowful is our life, and there is no remedy when a man comes to his end, and no one has been known to return from Hades [i.e. death].  Because we were born by mere chance, and hereafter we shall be as though we had never been; because the breath in our nostrils is smoke, and reason is a spark kindled by the beating of our hearts.  When it is extinguished, the body will turn to ashes, and the spirit will dissolve like empty air.  Our name will be forgotten in time, and no one will remember our works; our life will pass away like the traces of a cloud, and be scattered like mist that is chased by the rays of the sun and overcome by its heat.  For our allotted time is the passing of a shadow, and there is no return from our death, because it is sealed up and no one turns back.

‘Come, therefore, let us enjoy the good things that exist, and make use of the creation to the full as in youth.  Let us take our fill of costly wine and perfumes, and let no flower of spring pass by us.  Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither.  Let none of us fail to share in our revelry, everywhere let us leave signs of enjoyment, because this is our portion, and this is our lot.  Let us oppress the righteous poor man; let us not spare the widow nor regard the gray hairs of the aged.  But let our might be our law of right, for what is weak proves itself to be useless.” – Wisdom of Solomon 2:1-11

From On Apostolic Preaching:

St. Irenaeus of Lyons

“Therefore, lest we suffer any such thing, we must keep the rule of faith unswervingly, and perform the commandments of God, believing in God and fearing Him, for He is Lord, and loving Him, for He is Father. Action, then, comes by faith, as ‘if you do not believe,’ Isaias says, ‘you will not understand’; and truth brings about faith, for faith is established upon things truly real, that we may believe what really is, as it is, and believing what really is, as it is, we may always keep our conviction of it firm. Since, then, the conserver of our salvation is faith, it is necessary to take great care of it, that we may have a true comprehension of what is.”

It seems that one of the central debates for Christians today is whether we should believe like Christians or live like Christians. One side is adamant that our beliefs are what save us while the other side argues that our works save us, while beliefs don’t really matter (or at least don’t hold that much importance).

For early Christians the distinction between believing and actions simply didn’t exist. To have “faith” meant that we believed what had been handed down to us and then lived according to those beliefs. As Irenaeus elucidates, action comes from faith and faith is established on things that are real. Our faith is in God, who is real, so then we should act on this belief.

We shouldn’t have a dichotomy between how we live and what we believe. Turning to the highly respected 20th century theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar, we read,

“And when we exalt orthopraxy, right action, which is demanded clearly enough by Jesus himself…do we have to lose all sense of what the New Testament equally emphatically calls right belief, orthodoxy?” (Truth is Symphonic: Aspects of Christian Pluralism, 13)

It certainly seems like von Balthasar is simply echoing the sentiments of Irenaeus, both of whom seem to point back to St. James (the Less or the Great, depending on who you believe), who wrote,

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.

If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.

It would appear that even James faced this dichotomy where people were more concerned about works or about belief. To James, there is no difference. If you believe then it will show in your works, and your works will aid in your belief. Thus, faith is both a belief based upon reality, or Ultimate Reality, but because this is the case, faith requires us to act.

One can think of God’s Word, who is Truth (John 14:6) coming down and dying for His creation. Certainly He believed that He loved us, certainly Christ has beliefs about Himself. But He acted on those beliefs. The same God who baffles the greatest theologians and makes them less than children in knowledge came down to lift up the broken of this world so they might not only hear about His love, but experience His love. God cannot be divided, so while He is Truth, He is also action; we cannot merely believe in Him as a purely intellectual object to be studied, because when we gain true knowledge of Him we are moved to action.

This is part of the mysticism of Christianity, that it is a belief, it has propositional truths, it is rational, but it extends beyond these things. It has good actions, it is concerned with the poor, it serves the widows and orphans, but all of these actions are based upon its beliefs. Faith, true faith, is a faith based on reality and one that changes the whole of man.

In both liberal and conservative sects, the more we eradicate mystery, the more rigid we tend to become. For conservatives it’s the eradication and elimination of drinking, smoking, women wearing pants, and so on. For liberals it’s the eradication and elimination of the belief in any miracles, in using Scripture for spiritual purposes, and so on. So I would contend that fundamentalism comes in both variations; one is remaining fundamental to conservative ideals with the other is pointing to the fundamentals of liberal ideals.

Where I would disagree is in pointing out that today’s world isn’t any less confusing or less mysterious than the world of yesterday. Think of the people who were experiencing the collapse of the Roman Republic. Certainly that was a confusing time when the Senate seemed to be impotent and the Emperors began to rise. With this change also came a dynamic change in Roman culture. Or what about the rise of Christendom, which also would have confused the masses. We could turn to the collapse of the Roman Empire, the rise of Islam in the East, the power vacuum of Europe shortly after the collapse of the Roman Empire, the collapse of Constantinople, the Protestant Reformation, the discovery of a New World, and the list goes on and on. The point being, our world has seemingly always been in a time of upheaval and that today would be no different from any of those times.

What has remained consistent during this times, however, is that the fundamentals of the Christian faith have stayed constant. Christians today who claim orthodoxy would differ very little in their central beliefs from Christians two thousand years ago, even though we are separated by time, culture, and language. The reason for this is that though Christianity has fundamentals to follow, it is ultimately based on a mystery. Being based on a mystery means that nothing can overcome it, nothing can overpower it, and as confusing as our world is, it’ll never be more mysterious than God.

It is in uncertain times when we need to embrace the stable mystery of Christ, lest we be swept away by the turbulent seas of uncertainty.

I’ve been reading about the problem of evil lately and as one might suspect, it’s quite easy to lose faith in humanity during such an endeavor. After all, we see evil on a daily basis and commit evil as well. In fact, some people can begin to grow a hatred for this world and this life because of evil.

This is especially predominant among evangelical Christians. In their zealousness for God’s truth they see heresy under every rock, Hell around every corner, and await the end of it all when the earth will be burned up in a fiery blaze. Some people think these types of evangelicals simply thrive off controversy, but the truth is many of them hate controversy. I know many of these people (at times I am one of these people), and such lives are full of depression and angst. It’s full of never being happy and in moments of happiness feeling guilt because you know there’s so much out there you need to do.

But on the other side of things are people who see love on a daily basis. In their zealousness for God’s love, they never see heresy, they see Heaven behind every person, and await an end that may or may not come, but it doesn’t matter because there’s work to be done now. Some people think these types of evangelicals thrive of feeling good and avoiding controversy, but the truth is many of them genuinely love people and want to do everything they can to help them and find the good in them. I know many of these people (at times I am one of these people), and such lives are full of happiness, but lots and lots of doubt. It’s easy to be happy when you see someone doing a good thing, that’s when it’s easy to believe humans are basically good; but when you hear about a child being abducted and murdered or a husband cheating on his wife, what then? Where’s the good in those actions?

Within the evangelical community these two groups fight and fight and move towards polar opposites. The emergent evangelicals, in their quest for love, ironically begin to hate the more reformed evangelicals. Now, the emergent evangelicals may not recognize it, but it’s true; they hate these reformed individuals. They will use the reformed as a negative example in Christianity every single time, they’ll mock John Piper, they won’t even mention Mark Driscoll, and then they’ll create sites mocking and satirizing their reformed brethren. The irony is that for emergent evangelicals who teach that we’ll all eventually make it to Heaven, that we’re all brothers and sisters in Christ regardless of our creeds, their actions speak differently.

Now I know all the excuses that will be put forth on this one. “Jesus was harsh with the Pharisees.” So you’re automatically assuming that you’re not a Pharisee, but they are? You don’t see the arrogance in this? “Well they do it too!” Did not Christ tell us to turn the other cheek? “Well I still love them, I’m just harsh with them because they do more harm than good.” Aren’t we told to love our enemies and isn’t love an action as well as a state of being? At the end of the day if we’re following the Christian message, we’re left with no good reason to treat reformed believers the way we do.

Alternatively, the reformed are not without their share of guilt. In their quest for theological purity they have committed a heresy in their actions. Now, the reformed evangelicals may not recognize it, but it’s true; they hate emergent evangelicals. They will always view the emergent movement as pure, 100%, imported from Hell heresy. They’ll never see the good in it, or the good is always mentioned as an aside. They’ll blast Rob Bell (who says he’s not emergent, but, c’mon), they’ve already erased Brian McLaren’s name out of the Book of Life, and the only reason they won’t outright declare Peter Rollins the Antichrist is that he’s too short and too Irish to command the attention of the masses.

Now I know all the excuses that will be put forth on this one. “Paul was harsh with the false teachers.” So you’re saying you know they’re false teachers and you’re not? Obviously I’m going to agree that false teachers exist (I’ll get to that), but shouldn’t we also examine ourselves? “They’ll lead thousands away from Christ!” To paraphrase a line from The Big Lebowski, “Who’s the flippin’ Calvinist here?!” Don’t you believe that God has chosen His elect and that among those elect none shall perish?

To out myself on this issue, I certainly don’t fall in with the emergent crowd, but I also don’t fall in with the reformed crowd either. I’m one of those dinosaurs who’s dying out (at least in America) that doesn’t fit into either category, yet fits into both categories. Being that way, I will say that I do see many emergent teachings as false and I do think some of the teachings by some individuals are heretical (but I won’t apply this to block their salvation, because there’s no way I can know). But this doesn’t mean I’m ready to get a fire going or sharpen my axe. Likewise, I disagree quite a bit with reformed theology, particularly Calvinism. But this doesn’t mean I’m ready to become a modern-day Jesuit and hunt them down eradicating their teachings.

This is where I get to the importance of paradox in how we live. Could it be that we can look upon this world and recognize that it is evil and that people are evil, but at the same time it’s good and people are good? These are not necessarily contradictory, because we’re not saying that everything is pure evil or wholly evil, nor are we saying it’s pure good or wholly good. We’re simply saying it has both and that people have both. Some people are more evil (which means they lack goodness) and others are good, all by choice. Could it be that we do need to pay attention to what we believe and avoid heresy, but because this also helps us avoid heresy in how we live?

Most importantly, can we love someone and be with him while also disagreeing? Certainly this does have its limits, for how can I attend a church where the pastor denies the historical resurrection of Christ or denies His divinity? Or how can I attend a church where a rich member refuses to give to the poor and instead exploits them, but the pastor never says a thing to this member who is living in unrepentant sin? So there are standards (much to the chagrin of emergent believers), but we don’t use these standards to strangle those who disagree with us (much to the chagrin of reformed believers).

So yes, false teachers do exist and we should do our best to counteract it – but can’t we be civil in the meantime? While some may want to argue that I’m being soft, I would contend that I’m simply looking at how Jesus lived. He was harsh, yes, but He was loving as well. He was willing to call Peter the Satan, but He was also willing to wash his feet. He washed the feet of all His disciples knowing they would reject Him in His moment of need, and what greater heresy is there than that? Yet Jesus served them, died for them, and then appeared to them after they had rejected Him. While we must sometimes be stern in our words, we should never be stern in our actions.

I am not perfect at this at all. I sometimes cross beyond the paradox of life and choose to be purely stern or purely loving, most of the time stern. Too often I become a heresy hunter, pointing out why everyone is wrong rather than taking the time to explain my own beliefs and why I think those are right. So I fully understand that everything I’m saying makes me a hypocrite, but that doesn’t invalidate anything I’m saying (it simply invalidates me as an individual).

In the end, we must point out where we think someone is wrong, we must point out heresy, and this will impact how we attend church and our church leadership. But we must love in all that we do. While we must be willing to say, “John is wrong in what he believes,” we must also be willing to serve John in our full capacity should the need arise. We must recognize that while John is committing an act of evil (whether in his teaching or his living), he is still in the image of God and therefore still good. Such a paradox.