We Are Not Ourselves

I am sinless. 

I am sinful. 

I am holy.

I am profane. 

I am righteous. 

I am guilty. 

What is all this babbling about? I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the Christian identity. People talk about how our identity is in Christ, but they rarely talk explain what that means practically. A lot could be said about it, really. But I’ve been thinking about one aspect in particular. 

In one way, we have two selves as Christians. There is the old man and the new. Often these are treated as simply two sides to your mind or heart, one good and one evil, but it’s really so much deeper than that.

The truth is that Jesus has actually and entirely remade us. We were one kind of person, one kind of human being, before, but He has broken that down into tiny pieces and rebuilt it from the ground up. He did this in His death and resurrection. When He died on the Cross, the humanity of our old, fallen, natural selves was crucified—brutally executed under the wrath of God—with Him. And then we were raised with Him to a new humanity, perfectly purified from sin and filled with the life and glory of God.

So where does that leave us now? In Christ, we are already perfected. I’m not talking sentimentally. I’m not talking about our legal status before God. I’m saying that the human life of Jesus in heaven right now is our life. He is literally our perfection, our sanctification, our regeneration, our glorification. Our redeemed selves are hidden with Christ in God 

But this hiding is, for now, essential to grasp. We can’t see our new selves but in glimpses, shadows, and holy moments by faith. Our new selves are in Christ alone, hidden in heaven, and the only way to see them in the present on earth is by union with Christ.

Because, the thing is, right now we are not ourselves. In a certain way we are, but in a more important way we’re not. The selves we experience right now—the ones deeply scarred by sin, guilt, confusion, insufficiency, fear, doubt, weakness, and death—are expired. We were crucified. Our flesh was mortally wounded on Calvary in the flesh of Jesus. Our existence as sinners is passing away, fading like a time traveler who has murdered his young grandfather.

So right now we are walking paradoxes. We are still our natural and decaying selves, but by grace the Holy Spirit has united us to Jesus, in whom our true selves are hidden. Although our new selves will have to remain essentially hidden with Christ until He comes, because of our present union with Him by the Spirit we can begin to live, inasmuch as we depend on Jesus in faith, as new creatures even today. As we draw nearer to Jesus, we become in this mixed present more like who we really are in the Savior. Yet because Jesus still remains hidden in heaven, we cannot yet fully escape who we have been, our old and dead selves. 

This, then, thrusts us back onto the practices that take us to Jesus. Our only way to be who we really are is to know Him, which means we are bound to pray, to read the Scriptures which testify of Christ, to take our place within His Body, the Church, to serve the least of these with whom He so deeply identifies, and to feast upon His new creation nourishment weekly in the Supper, to recall the promise and identity of our baptisms, and to suffer for the Gospel. These things deepen our union with Christ. Self-denial and cross-bearing connect us to His death, which killed our old selves. Likewise, the active life of believing, knowing, and loving Jesus connects us to His resurrection by the Spirit. And by this resurrection we experience in advance our new creation selves as pure gift in the person of Jesus.

So for now, we march on in tension. Our old, corrupted selves remain alive in this age but dead in Christ. Our redeemed and holy selves remain hidden in this age (they belong to the age to come) but present in Christ. Yet out of these two realities, this age and the age to come in Jesus, one is superior. Jesus is victorious, and all reality opposed to His is already defeated. This means that we, in our darkness and pain and struggling, are not ourselves. Our true selves are hidden in Christ to be revealed on the last day. That is hope and comfort, for the selves we see now obviously have no place in glory or eternal life. But if this isn’t who we are, if in Jesus we are something far better, then we know that there is real hope for us all.

To adapt something T. F. Torrance once said:

This Caleb Smith you see is full of corruption, but the real Caleb Smith is hid with Christ in God and will be revealed  only when Jesus Christ comes again.

Amen.

We Are Not Ourselves

The Justification of Ungodly Wealth

Here are the outline and audio recording of a sermon I preached in October.

  1. Introduction
    1. All familiar with Francis Chan
    2. Should be, pastor who gives and sends and loves, author of Crazy Love
    3. Ran across an article on him on the Internet
    4. “Francis Chan Runs Out of Things To Give Away”
      Eric Horton, Chief Generosity Officer of the Crazy Love Foundation, a nonprofit started by popular speaker and Bible teacher Francis Chan, confirmed Wednesday that Mr. Chan had finally given away the very last of his earthly possessions.
      The landmark moment reportedly occurred at the Abundant Life Christian Fellowship rummage sale, which was organized to raise funds for an upcoming short term mission trip to an unnamed third-world region.
      “[Chan] just started scratching his head, and throwing his hands up into the air,” reported local man Brandon Reuben, who happened to be at the rummage sale looking for a lightly used Pyrex glass measuring cup. “At one point, he shouted, ‘Are you kidding me?’ and began to weep loudly.”
      A destitute and despondent Chan was seen wandering the streets of San Francisco after the sale, unsure of what to do with himself. Borrowing a stranger’s phone, he sent a text to his good friend David Platt to share the news, who reportedly replied, “It is finished.” At publishing time, Chan was racked with guilt over the shirt and pants he was wearing, praying for God to guide him to someone he could offer them to.
      Babylon Bee
    5. Foolish kid to preach on money from Luke 16:1-15
    6. Parable of the unjust steward, though “unrighteous manager” in my translation
    7. Interpret the difficult parable, examine a theology of money, see just what Christ’s work does to our use of it
  2. Interpreting the Parable
    1. Read the text, Luke 16:1-15
    2. Note basic storyline
      1. Steward squandered resources
      2. Called to account by master
      3. Used remaining time to reduce invoices
      4. Used goodwill to prepare his future
      5. Congratulated by master
    3. Question: what did the steward do in 6-7?
    4. Possible answers
      1. Cooked books
      2. Cut out master’s unlawful interest (note rates)
      3. Cut out commission
      4. Cut out personally added interest, favored, explains response from Jesus and master
    5. To unpack meaning: setup like parable of wicked tenants, talents, and the like
    6. God is master, steward is Israel, especially the elites
    7. Steward was unfaithful to what God had given, as was Israel with their covenant blessings and especially the elites with material wealth
    8. So what does the steward do? Sacrifices wealth in generosity to secure his future before it’s too late
    9. Commended by master for his astute (side note on meaning, “practical intelligence”) plan
    10. Pharisees and elites are ironically (or covenantally) “sons of light”
    11. Jesus warns them to flee their love of money, giving up their dishonest gain like the steward
    12. They claim to serve the master, God, while serving mammon, but they must choose one
    13. Jesus has come to announce their removal unless they repent
    14. Their love of money has kept others in poverty and isolation (cf. rich man and Lazarus)
    15. These poor outcasts are entering the Kingdom with eternal homes before the “godly” Pharisees
    16. Jesus tells them: repent!
    17. Like the rich young ruler, give away your money to the poor (make friends for yourselves)
    18. Then these who are entering the Kingdom first will welcome them as well
  3. Theology of money and its justification
    1. Here Jesus gives a picture of money as a liability (rich man, eye of a needle)
    2. Of money: “For what is highly admired by people is revolting in God’s sight.”
    3. Not poverty-works
    4. Richness implies lack of generosity (cite Francis Chan)
    5. James loaded with critical statements about the rich
    6. There are three possible views on money
      1. Naturally good but dangerous
      2. Naturally neutral but corrupting
      3. Naturally corrupt but useful
    7. Jesus seems to give in general but especially this parable credence to the last or strong middle
    8. Unrighteous mammon, dishonest wealthy, unjust money
    9. Money and wealth are deeply intertwined with injustice
    10. This becomes more true as money is more separated from sustenance
    11. Examples from economy
      1. Corruption in Fed
      2. Businesses that abuse labor in countries like China
      3. Abortion tangles
      4. Financial companies predation
      5. Money can accomplish any evil
    12. James portrays rich unflatteringly
    13. Overall portrayal is something as dangerous as One Ring
    14. Differs from OT
      1. OT showed wealth as blessing
      2. Dangers still evident but less prominent
      3. Flesh and eschatology
      4. Eschatological point ties to parable
      5. Time in OT exposed dangers of money, like Torah
    15. Money gone in age to come
    16. Powerful, corrupting liability in this age
    17. Even benefiting from money is tainted
  4. Justification and Sanctification
    1. Justification by grace through faith applies to money
    2. We can’t disentangle ourselves from the corruption in earthly wealth
    3. We entrust our resources to Christ in faith
    4. Thus He justifies our financial lives
    5. We find wealth justified by faith, but without works faith is dead
    6. James reference multilayered: James treats charity as greatest work
    7. Entrust wealth to Christ by giving it to people He identifies with
      1. “When one has pity on the poor, he lends to God. And he who gives to the least, gives to God. These are spiritual sacrifices to God, an odor of a sweet smell…By almsgiving to the poor, we are lending to God. When it is given to the least, it is given to Christ. Therefore, there are no grounds for anyone preferring earthly things to heavenly—nor for considering human things before divine.” Cyprian
    8. This act of giving is purified in Christ’s self-giving
    9. We become Christ’s hands and feet
    10. In giving ungodly wealth in turned into divine blessing, just as Cross turned to salvation
    11. Connects to early church belief about atoning alms
      1. Clement of Alexandria said, “One purchases immortality for money.”
      2. “When you can do good, do not hesitate. For ‘alms delivers from death.'” Polycarp
    12. Whatever deficiencies, this language highlights the Biblical theme
    13. Justified by faith, faith itself is justified by works, particularly giving
    14. In Christ our ungodly wealth is redeemed and justified by faith, that we may present it to God a holy sacrifice
    15. Therefore we are commanded to give, give, give, as Christ gave, that our wealth might not be a source of corruption but of blessing
    16. Don’t be like greedy Pharisees, but be like wise steward
    17. Don’t hold on to money
    18. God will give grace through our offering
    19. Communion is similar: money bought bread and juice to become a means of grace in receiving Christ through faith
The Justification of Ungodly Wealth

Stop Hating on Worship

Theologically-minded people get cynical.

This is to our shame.

One of the worst places that this cynicism shows up is in corporate worship as we sing songs to God. I know because I experience this personally on a weekly basis. I get critical about what we sing, and I hear my friends talk about it, too.

But really, we need to stop.

Yes, there are reasons to dislike certain worship songs.

Yes, it is true that many songs are less than 100% theologically precise.

Yes, some songs even use apparently incorrect theology.

Despite all this, rarely does a song pop up with is legitimately dangerous or so wrong that it cannot be sung by a godly heart. The songs which make rounds in our average evangelical Protestant churches may not always be of the highest musical and theological quality, but that doesn’t give us an excuse to cringe at lyrics when we could be worshipping the Almighty God.

And honestly, I’m rarely convinced that the problems identified with certain songs actually have to be problems. More often than not, we let our idiosyncrasies distort the reality. We’re so smug and proud of our theological purity that we are immediately suspicious of wording that we might not have chosen, even if the actual meaning is perfectly innocuous. We would be better off suspending our judgment and trying to figure out if a line is really flirting with heresy or if maybe we’re reading it wrong.

Take a couple of examples.

In “Holy Spirit” by Kari Jobe, I’ve heard people take issue with the line, “Holy Spirit, You are welcome here.” The usual response is, “Who do we think we are to tell the Holy Spirit where He is welcome? He can come and go wherever He wants!” But this is a silly objection. No one singing this line means to say, “Alright, Holy Spirit, in my personal sovereignty I give You, my humble Servant, permission to enter this room.” The real meaning is clear to anyone who is willing to give the benefit of the doubt: we are eager and receptive to the work of the Holy Spirit. We are praying for Him to act, saying that we are willing to listen and not resist.

“Good, Good Father” also gets a lot of flack, not just among theological types but even many others. I’ve seen some serious hate directed its way, such as here and here. And I’ll admit quickly that it’s a bit silly, certainly not quality music, especially in the first verse. But even so, I think the criticisms are mostly off-base. People complain about “You tell me that You’re pleased” as though the Father does not declare us pleasing to Him in the Son. One Calvinist complained about “I’m loved by You” as though Christians should remain skeptical about God’s love for them while worshipping Him. They hate on the mindless repetition, vague sentimentality, and lack of any distinctively Christian language. But really, really, what can you actually find in this song that explicitly contradicts Scripture and would be sung by your average worshipper in a way that turns them away from their heavenly Father? I find no such thing.

I won’t bother with any more examples for now. The point is clear enough. We need to quit with the snobbery, the arrogance, the hyper-particularity that distract our minds from the divine glory. Every once in a while we might stumble upon a song that is legitimately unacceptable, but most of the time we’re being picky, failing to apply the benefit of the doubt, and asserting our superiority over people who write and sing these songs. That’s not worship. So let’s leave this all behind and just focus on God. (And if the lyrics trip you up, be creative. I’m sure you can find an interpretative way to sing them with a meaning that fits your theology, unless your theology is a jerk.)

Stop Hating on Worship

Are We All God’s Children?

Are we all God’s children? In this case by “we” I don’t mean specifically Christians, but all people in all of the world. Is it true as some say that all people are children of God? The more pop-theology answer tends to be “yes,” whereas more theologically astute Christians usually tend to answer “no, only Christians are” though there are exceptions. But the best answers have never been quite so simplistic. We should recognize that there are multiple dimensions to the Fatherhood of God, and in fact I would present it as having three aspects in particular. Depending on what you mean, it can be right or wrong to call God “Father” of all people. So what are these three “fatherhoods?”

  • Creational fatherhood: In one sense, because God is the Creator all things He is also their Father. Paul says this while preaching to Greek thinkers in Acts, “as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’ Since we are God’s offspring…” As a human father creates a child, so God created the world. (The fact that God creates the world as apart from Himself, rather than enclosing it within Himself like in panentheism, also makes it more true to speak of God’s role as Creator in terms of fatherhood than motherhood.) In this sense, God is Father of everyone and everything He has created. We should not make light of this. God is every bit as much love and every bit as generous in His creational fatherhood as in anything else.
  • Covenantal fatherhood: In another sense, God is specially regarded as Father in His covenant relationships. When God elects and establishes a covenant, He sets Himself up as Father to the newly elect. Of Israel God said, “Israel is my firstborn son,” (Exod. 4:22), and He later says when He makes a covenant with David, “You are my son: today I have begotten you” (Ps. 2:7). Likewise, He now calls those in the new covenant His children (Rom. 9:8). This is a more intimate use of the term “Father,” for in this case God is highlighting a special relationship of love, care, and obedience between God and His covenant partner.
  • New creational fatherhood: As God is Father to all He has created, He is also Father to all that He creates anew. There is a special sense in which those who are born again into the new creation are God’s children. Their new birth involves a change of parentage. They were once, by their sin, children of Satan, but now they are reborn into God’s family. John basically says everything we need to know about this sense of God’s fatherhood in 1 John 3:1-2.

    See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.

    We should also understand, though, that in Christ this new creation is already accomplished for all people (John 5:29, 2 Cor. 5:19), even though not all have yet received it by faith in Him (Gal. 3:26). Not all will ever receive this new status as new creation children personally, but it objectively exists in Christ.

So from these three we can see that it can both be appropriate to speak of all people as God’s children and to speak specially of believers as God’s children. The one God is the one Father of all (Eph. 4:6), but it is also true that many are children of Satan rather than children of God (1 Jn. 3:8-10).

What we should see underlying all of this, however, is the eternal Father-Son relation of the Trinity. If anyone else is to be God’s child, it is first grounded in the fact that Jesus is the Son of God. It is is because Christ is the firstborn over all creation (Col. 1:15b) and the image in whom we were made (Col. 1:15a, cf. Gen. 1:27) that God is our Father creationally. Israel became God’s son, but their destiny was always defined by the coming of the only-begotten Son (Matt. 2:15). Of David and Solomon it was said that God became their Father, but Israel’s kings were only ever types of the one true Son and King (Heb. 1:5). And we are God’s children now, but only by union with Jesus Christ (Gal. 3:26, Eph. 1:5). Thus it all comes back to Jesus. He is the Son of God, and no one else can claim any such honor except through Him. And in that way it is true both that all are God’s children in Christ, and yet we who believe alone are God’s children in Christ. May we live our lives with the goal of seeing these two groups become one!

Are We All God’s Children?

The Humility of God

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

Matthew 11:29

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who,

though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.

Philippians 2:3-8

“God is humble.” Have you ever in your life heard or thought of such a thing? Is it even true? Some people might initially balk at the suggestion, instead insisting that God’s final and ultimate purpose is glorifying Himself and that this is entirely opposite of humility. Yet it is not clear that this is Biblically accurate. For if we know anything about God, according to Scripture, we know that He is revealed most fully and perfectly in the person and work of Jesus Christ. And, as I just quoted, Jesus calls Himself “humble.” Paul uses the mind of Jesus as the prime example of humility. So there are only two possibilities: either humility is a trait of Jesus unique to His humanity, or humility is in fact a trait of God.

So was humility only a part of Jesus’ earthly life? Was it only a result of His becoming a human being? This seems questionable on multiple grounds. For one, humility is treated in Scripture as a virtue, an element of good character. Yet Jesus’ character in His earthly life was not something that came purely from His human existence, but corresponded in every way to His goodness as the eternal Son. While we can certainly acknowledge that Jesus did say and do things as a human which do not directly correspond to anything in His divine life (I doubt, for example, that using the restroom expressed His divine character, though maybe that’s a limit of my imagination), it seems difficult to suggest that any of the positive traits He applied to Himself or any of the character He expressed can divorced from who He is as God.

Another reason to be skeptical that Jesus’ humility is restricted to His humanity is that Philippians 2 treats it as underlying the Incarnation. When Paul seek to inspire us to humility here, he does not point first to how humble Jesus was on earth, as if He only became humble because He became human. Rather, he starts by pointing out that Jesus’ act of becoming incarnate, His very choice to become human, was already a humble act. The choice to become human is not itself a choice made by Jesus in His human nature, since He did not have one until He chose to have one! Yet He already expressed humility by choosing to become a human being. Therefore humility characterizes Jesus even in eternity as the pure God, the one is entirely and completely the image of the God the Father Almighty and the exact expression of His nature. Since there is no God behind the back of Jesus, we know that God is humble.

This brings us, then, to a couple of questions. The first is one which may be percolating in some minds right now is simply how it can be that God is humble if He in Scripture often seeks to glorify Himself. Many in fact argue that God’s first and most fundamental purpose in absolutely all things is to glorify Himself. While I tend to think this is a bit reductionistic and goes beyond what Scripture actually teaches, it certainly can’t be denied that God in Scripture often does seem to act for His own glory. So how can God seek His own glory and be humble (or love, for that matter, cf. 1 Cor. 13:4-5)? To understand this, I believe we need to see the Trinitarian shape of God’s glory and love. Love does not seek its own, to be sure, but it does always seek its beloved’s. And no one loves the Son more than the Father, or the Father more than the Son. There is no love greater than the love of God in the Holy Spirit. We understand from Scripture that the Son glorifies the Father, the Father glorifies the Son (John 17:1-5), and the Holy Spirit does not speak of Himself but of the Father through and in the Son (John 15:26).

Even this, though, does not fully seem to account for the self-glorification of God. After all, even though God exists in three persons, there is also a sense in which it is right to treat Him as a single, undivided Subject and Actor. So it may still be worth asking just how a humble God glorifies Himself from the perspective even of His oneness. To this end I might suggest an analogy. Imagine a humble, soft-spoken but absolutely excellent doctor. He feels little impulse to brag about his impressive skill or medical successes, even though he certainly would be speaking pure truth if he did. Yet one day he finds a man in a severe medical emergency on the side of the road. The man is proud, confused, and skeptical of the doctor, willing to simply risk it on his own rather than submit to the instructions the doctor provides. So the doctor begins explaining and demonstrating his medical expertise and skill with a flurry of technical terms, deft use of his resources, and stories of great feats he has accomplished in the operating room. He exalts himself and humbles the man, not for any selfish or egotistical purpose but precisely because he is the man’s only hope for life. Without him the man will die, and he must make the man understand.

While I doubt this is a flawless analogy and assume someone could find a fault or two, I think it has some merit. God doesn’t just glorify Himself because He craves glory from tiny creatures or because He desperately needs the adulation like some kind of megalomaniac, but rather spreads His glory across the world so that all people will see Him and find eternal life in communion with Him. For Psalm 22:26-27 declare, “Those who seek him shall praise the Lord. May your hearts live forever! All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him,” and John 17:3 adds, “This is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”

With all this in mind we can see no real contradiction between God’s self-glorification and His essential humility. So we can return to the simple words of Christ and accept them as God’s own self-revelation: “I am humble in heart.” God is not an egomaniac. He is not a narcissist. He is not an arrogant tyrant running around to make more of Himself than He needs to. He is glorious, but without pretense or a need to exalt in His glory over us. Just as Karl Barth once said, “God does not need to make any fuss about his glory: God is glorious. He simply needs to show Himself as He is, He simply needs to reveal Himself. That is what He does in man.” Indeed, He expresses His glory by becoming one of us, and ultimately in humbling Himself all the way to the Cross to give us life. God is most glorified on Calvary, precisely where He is most humble, even humiliated. This is our God, whose “I AM WHO I WILL BE” climaxes in His most despised and lowly moment in giving His own self for us. This is the God who is love, the God who is Jesus Christ. And rather than actually give you the takeaways, I think they can speak for themselves. I instead suggest that you simply meditate and pray. The glory of this humble, self-giving God should tell you all you need to know.

The Humility of God

Love Is War

I was reading 1 Corinthians 13 the other day and learned something which I did not know. Apparently, all (or most?) of the descriptions of love are verbs in the Greek. Phrases rendered like “Love is kind” could be rendered ultra-literally as “Love kinds” or more dynamically as “Love acts kindly.” Love is active throughout the passage.

Moreover, the actions ascribed to love in this passage are entirely contrary to the flesh, our natural way of living based on our merely animal aspects. We act in one way by default, by instinct, and that way is entirely opposed to the way of love. They cannot abide one another. They are antithetical at their very core. There is one way of acting characterized by love and another way of acting characterized by the self-being of the flesh, and one cannot act in both ways with creating inner conflict.

This brings me to another thought, namely the way that Christianity is often portrayed as a soft, feminine religion with no room for toughness, conflict, strenuous self-discipline, or heroic efforts. It seems unmanly by any of the traditional traits associated with masculinity. Christianity often appears to be an issue of “love, not war.”

But what I would like to point out here is that, in a very important way, love is war. It is strenuous conflict, the fight against natural instincts of self-service in order to do what is right for God and others. It involves determined efforts to kill the old man. We fight and struggle against not humans, but spiritual forces and powers and the corruptions in nature.

This is a Biblical theme. Paul speaks in Romans 9 to us about killing sin, putting it to violent death in our bodies because we have been hung on a bloody cross to die with Christ. We direct strenuous energy and training into fighting the war of love, which means following our Captain Jesus to fight the way He fought, not against humans but against sin, self-love, and the effects of death and Hell. Jesus fought by resisting all of His natural impulses to save or avenge Himself and instead suffering nobly to complete the mission of God. This is our call as well, and it is a hard one which requires an almost military discipline, or even more than that.

Acts is also portrayed as a conquest narrative. It has numerous parallels with Joshua, showing Canaan and then the world being conquered by the preaching of the Gospel through Christ’s elite warriors. These warriors suffer just as other warriors do, more literally than in most of these other parallels as they experienced flogging, beating, and all kinds of torture or harsh conditions.

This is all specific to love, not just a conception of Christianity in general. We do and must do all of these things for  the sake of love, love for God and for people. It is love which must be the force here, and yet it is also through these fights and struggles that we actually love. There is circularity here: love compels us to fight the war that enables us to love.

I also do not say this merely to point out an interesting idea in thinking about love. I’m pointing this out because this realization has two possible benefits. On the one hand, it is a reminder to men that Christianity is serious conflict, that it is not simply sitting around singing mushy songs and feeling fluttery feelings about God and others. Rather, it is a fight. In Christianity we are called to act like heroes who love by taking down sin and self-centeredness like Liam Neeson takes down Eastern European criminals in order to serve the ones we love. We are like the troops who lay down their lives to protect their families and honor their king.

On the other hand, I say this to remind us that love is effort, serious effort in which we will have to suffer. Like in war, we must discipline ourselves and be consciously vigilant against all threats. Love and our loved ones are located in a battle zone, and we must behave in a way that makes sense in such high stakes. It takes diligence, self-control, attention, and obedience to orders if we want our love, our mission to put God and others first, to succeed.

Onward, then, Christian soldiers. Let us march on to the war that is love.

Love Is War

Abraham’s Choice

Kill the miracle child. That was God’s demand to Abraham. An old man was told to take his young son, whom he had never thought would be conceived and waited patiently for years to see be born, plunge a knife into him, and burn his body. All of this for a God who had already made him leave behind his homeland and family on faith. Why? Why another test, and one of such horror?

Ultimately, Abraham chose to continue in steadfast faith, hoping perhaps desperately for even a resurrection. He seemed willing to believe that the God who brought new life out of his own all-but-dead body could also bring new life out of the ashes of his son’s. This took deep faith and surely serious internal conflict. Such a choice for God few seem truly able to make.

I find it bothersome, then, that there are people even in the Church saying that Abraham didn’t really have to make that choice, or even shouldn’t have made it. Rachel Held Evans, for example, made this argument a couple years ago. According to such arguments it would have been okay or even right for Abraham to defy what he heard as the command of God (or was it?) out of love for his son. Love is the essence of Christian morality, right? Killing a child isn’t love, and why’s a supposedly good God commanding this, anyway?

Now put that thought in hold for a moment to consider a somewhat related argument about martyrdom. Some in the Church argue that it’s not ultimately important what you say or believe about God so long as you live a life of Christ-like love. In this case, there’s no reason to confess Jesus even on pain of death. Instead, you should just trample His name under your feet when threatened and use the life you escape with to show Christ’s love to others through mercy and self-sacrifice, though perhaps without mentioning Him.

To put these two arguments in a room together, then, imagine a situation in which you are on trial for professing Christ in a hostile environment and you are told to deny Christ or your children will be killed. By the logic of both of these arguments above, you should deny Jesus and save your kids. That’s the only way you can honor the essence of Christianity, which is to love others. To follow the examples of the martyrs or Abraham would be at best a mistake.

But what if both of these arguments are wrong? They seem to share the assumption that other people are the soul of Christianity, but what if they aren’t? What if God’s love and purpose for us expressed in Christ and His Resurrection are the center? What if everything else, including love for others, hangs upon this reality?

If Christ and His Resurrection are truly central, then both of the arguments fail. If Christ is at the center, and He is the love of God, and there is no other love of God than the person of Jesus, then to deny Him is to deny the love of God. To deny the love of God is then to deny the very ground on which any love for others firmly stands, for apart from God’s electing love for man, man is nothing. If the Resurrection is truly God’s loving  purpose for us in Christ, then death cannot be regarded as a final evil, but only as a temporary one forced to serve the victory of God in His love toward us. Death ushers in eternal glory rather than being a true obstacle to the welfare of man in Christ.

By this logic, the logic of grace, we would find ourselves once again called to make Abraham’s choice. Do we truly believe in Jesus Christ as the end-all, be-all? Do we trust the promise of God to raise His people from death into the glory of their Lord? Will we doubt that those who lose their lives in Christ will find them in Him? Or are we skeptical of God’s promise to crown His martyrs with His Son?

The idea, of course, of sacrificing our children, or any loved ones, to remain faithful to the God of love is still as confusing and horrifying as ever, to be sure. We may be tempted to ask how a good God could ever expect such a thing out of us. How is there love in this? But as always, we must be pointed to Christ. God may someday ask our sons of us, but He has already given up His Son for us. In doing so He has also revealed in advance what happens to sacrificed sons: resurrection and eternal glory and power. If we can make Abraham’s choice, then we will receive our children back to us in greater form than we gave them up, and we will still have Christ as well. In the resurrection, martyrs and their parents find, to speak colloquially, that they can have their cake and eat it, too. Indeed, when we understand love from a center in God’s love in Christ rather than in ourselves, we find that this was the way to truly love our family all along.

None of this changes the awful terror of any such prospect. Would I be able to give up my children in faith that God would raise them from the dead? As someone planning to spend considerable time on the mission field, I have no guarantee that this question will always be hypothetical. Will I be ready? Will my faith be that deep? I hardly know from the comfort of my air-conditioned home full of food at a Christian educational institution. May God have mercy on myself and my family if the situation ever does arise. But in the meantime, I believe, and pray the Lord to help my unbelief, that for both me and my household to live is Christ and to die is gain.

Abraham’s Choice