Against the Powers of This Dark Age

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. (Ephesians 6:10-12)

There are dark powers at work in the world. The Greek word for “world” in this passage actually means “age.” The world itself is God’s creation, and it is a good creation. But this present age is a different matter, and the powers Paul is talking about are the powers of this dark age. “Rulers of the darkness of this world,” is how the KJV puts it. These dark powers are connected with the forces of evil in the spiritual realm.

Against these dark powers and evil forces, Paul advances quite a different power. It is a power he has already spoken of earlier in this letter, a power that God already exercises toward us, on our behalf and for our good. It is the power by which God raised Christ from the dead and exalted him to the highest place.

That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way. (Ephesians 1:19-23)

The power by which God raised Christ from the dead and seated him at the right hand of the Father, far above all rules, authorities and powers is not only at work in us but also through us. It is the resurrection life of the Lord Jesus Christ. The Church, Paul says, is the body of Christ, the “fullness of him” — which is to say that Christ has filled the Church with himself. So his life and power are in us. There is a mystery here, an open secret that God reveals to us in Christ.

Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things. His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms, according to his eternal purpose that he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Ephesians 3:8-11)

This mystery, now revealed to us, is God’s eternal purpose in Christ from before the creation of the world. This divine purpose is, as Paul said in Ephesians 1:10, “to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ.” The revelation is that it has already been accomplished — it happened through the cross and resurrection of Christ. But God does not do this apart from the Church (and the Church certainly does not do it apart from God). Rather, God has chosen to reveal, through the Church, his stunningly great and multifaceted wisdom to the “rulers and authorities,” which are the spiritual powers behind the nations and cultures of this present age.

This is why Paul prayed, at the beginning of the letter, that our hearts be enlightened to know the hope to which God has called us, the glorious inheritance God has in us, and the greatness of the power that God is working for us and in us, the same power by which he raised Christ from the dead (Ephesians 1:15-18). It is not that these things are not already true of us — they are and have always been so, inasmuch as God chose us in Christ from before the creation of the world — but what we need is to understand, and not just with our intellect, what is going on deep within the core of our beings, “behind the scenes” of the world, in the realm of the Spirit. For it is through us that God has chosen to answer the powers of this dark age.

This brings us back around to Paul’s exhortation to “be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power,” and “put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.” As our warfare is not against flesh and blood, so also the weapons of our warfare are not material but spiritual.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Ephesians 6:14-17)

Elsewhere, Paul tells us to “put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator” (Colossians 3:10), and to “clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 13:14). These are all hues of the same truth. The mighty power in which we are to be strong is God’s resurrection power at work in us.

The “full armor” is Christ himself. He is the belt of truth buckled around our waist and the breastplate of righteousness we bear. It is Christ who makes our feet ready to hold firm in the peace of God. Christ is the shield we hold out in faith and the helmet of salvation we wear. The message of his gospel is the sword of the Spirit we wield. It is Christ, who fills everything in every way, who is doing this through and through — and he has chosen to do it through his body, the Church.

In this armor, we are able to stand with Christ against the dark powers of this present age. For “the true light that gives light to everyone” has come into the world (John 1:9). “The darkness is passing and the true light is already shining” (1 John 2:8). Let us, then, join in the wonderful doxology Paul sings in this same letter:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:20-21)

Random Thoughts

Thoughts culled from my random file, gathered from my Twitter tweets, Facebook updates and Instagrams. About divine love, forgiveness, the kingdom of God and new life in Christ. Some have come to me in moments of quiet reflection, some in interaction with others. Offered as “jump starts” for your faith.

• In Jesus Christ, God became human. How can this not but transform all of humanity, like leaven in bread? This is how the kingdom of God works, and the leaven of God’s love.
• Jesus has lifted our shame and carried it to the cross. By that shameful death, he put shame itself to death, for he is pure and righteous, and shame had no right to him.
• There is no shame so deep that the love of God is not deeper still, pouring itself out even on a cross for our sake.
• We do not know what it means to be freely forgiven until we have freely forgiven another. And there we find the kingdom of God, the will of God being done on earth as in heaven.
• Pride and shame are two sides of a coin ~ and both sides lie. Christ teaches us humility, which is a very different thing.
• We are, each of us, profoundly connected to one another. It cannot be undone without undoing the whole world. This is why we must forgive if we are to be made whole and the world made right.
• Divine love is a fine madness.
• Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Neither sin nor death get the last word.
• The death, burial and resurrection of Christ played out in history but affects all of time, from eternity to eternity.
• To pray without ceasing is to find Christ in every created thing.
• Lord Jesus, help me today to walk in the reality of Your resurrection and of Your life in me. Amen.
• Is there any place in the universe where Christ is absent ~ or any soul in which Christ is not truly present?
• Christ is everywhere present, and wherever He is, He is love.
• Christ is the Word of God uttered by the Breath of God.
• Wherever grace and faith meet, there is life.
• Lord Jesus, I am helpless. Come be my help. Amen.
• If we are all connected by our humanity, how can any of us be truly made whole unless all of us are made whole?
• If in our theology we imagine things about God that are not found in Christ, then our theology is wrong.
• Christ said that the Law and the Prophets are about Him. The authority of the Old Testament, then, is in the witness it bears to Christ.
• There is deep spiritual connection in everyone and everything. For God, who created all, is Spirit.
• Is it the soul that dwells in the body, or the body that dwells in the soul?
• The kingdom of God is a kingdom of forgiving and being forgiven. Are you ready for that?
• The Gospel in five words: Christ is making everything new.
• A prayer for the many times I stray from the way of Christ, who is love: Lord Jesus, I am your little lost sheep. Come find me. Find us all. Amen.

More random thoughts …

Becoming Our True Selves

Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. (Colossians 3:9-10)

We are included in Christ from the beginning and reconciled to God by the death of Christ (see Chosen in Christ for the Unity of All Things). But there is still a putting off and a putting on we must do. We must “put off” our old self, our false self — it does not correspond to who we really are in Christ. And we must “put on” the new self, our true self, which is “being renewed in knowledge” in the image of our Creator (who is revealed in Colossians 1 and elsewhere as Christ). It is a process of becoming what has always been true of us, letting the reality of that truth change us so that our way of life begins to catch up with who we really are and were created to be.

We are “being renewed,” Paul says. There are a couple of things to note here. First is that it is in the present tense, which indicates that it is not yet a completed work but an ongoing one. In other words, this renewal is a process, not a once-and-done event. It takes place over time. Second, it is in the passive not the active voice. That is, it is not something we do to, for or in ourselves but something that is done to, for and in us by another. This relieves us of an impossible burden, for we could no more renew ourselves to the image of our Creator than we could have created ourselves in that image in the first place. But it is a work that God is graciously doing in us by the Holy Spirit, conforming us to image of his Son.

We are being renewed in “knowledge.” The Greek word is epignosis, and for Paul it is not about knowing God merely in our head but in our whole being. We have always been chosen in Christ, but now we begin to realize and experience what it means to be in Christ, to know and be known by him. This growing realization, which comes by the working of God within us, changes us. “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind,” Paul says (Romans 12:2). The Greek word for “mind” here is nous and in the context of the gospel encompasses not only the intellect but the soul.

We are created in the image of God is so we may know God, experience God, fellowship with God, participate with God and express God to the rest of creation. This is a divine gift from the Father, through the Son, by the Holy Spirit. The image according to which we are being renewed, the image of our Creator, is the image of Christ, who is the perfect expression of God and in whom all the fullness of divinity dwells in bodily form (Romans 8:29; Hebrews 1:3; Colossians 2:9). This divine renewal, then, must be the work of the God by his Spirit:

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, reflecting the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory into glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:17-18)

By yielding to this transformative work of God’s Spirit, we “put off,” or let go of the old false self and “put on,” or welcome the true self so that we may become who we really are, the person god created us to be from the beginning, bearing fully the image and glory of God. This is true freedom.

Christ In All Creation

Christ is all, and is in all. (Colossians 3:11)

Christ is intimately involved with us in our very being — and always has been. He is, Paul says, “the firstborn over all creation.”

For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:15-17)

Everything that exists was created by Christ, through Christ and for Christ. All things are created in Christ, and in him all things hold together and continue to have being. At Mars Hill, Paul affirmed with the Greek poets that “we live and move and have our being” in God (Acts 17:28). All of us are in God, in Christ our creator. We have ever been so and ever will be.

But the reciprocal is also true: All things are in Christ; Christ is in all things. “Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all” (Colossians 3:11). This is true not only of the Church but of all people and, indeed, of all creation. Christ is all in all, which is why everyone and everything matters.

Christ is in all creation. This, I have discovered, is difficult for some Christians to accept. For if Christ is in all creation, they reason, then that would mean that all creation is saved. I don’t fault the logic of that; in fact, I accept that conclusion. But they do not like the conclusion, however, and since they do not deny their own logic (they would be refuting themselves by doing so), they instead dismiss the premise and deny that Christ is in all creation.

The Scriptures are clear that Christ is the beginning of all things and that all things are in him. They are equally clear that Christ is also the final resolution of all things: All things in heaven and on earth being brought into unity under Christ, reconciled to God through Christ by the blood of the cross (Ephesians 1:10; Colossians 1:19-20).

It is hard to think of how Christ could be so intimately related to all things, causing all things to be, even to the point of holding all things together in their continued existence, without himself actually being in them. Indeed, Paul says of the Christ by whom, through whom and for whom all things are created, in whom all things exist and by whom all things are reconciled to God — Paul says that this same Christ is in all things. A literal rendering of the Greek text in Colossians 3:11 identifies him as “the all and in all Christ.”

Christ is in all creation, but this does not mean that Christ is the creation. The Christian faith is not a pantheistic one. In his divinity, Christ is the creator of all things and permeates all things, but he is not the same as his creation. Every created thing has being and is a being, but Christ as creator is being itself, the source of being for everything that exists.

Yet, in the Incarnation, when God became a man, Christ became part of his own creation. In him, God joined himself to all humanity and partakes of human nature. And in him, we become “partakers of the divine nature,” as 2 Peter 1:4 teaches — though we do not become God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We remain ourselves just as God remains God’s own self.

In his humanity, Christ connected to all of creation, because all creation is itself connected. Through Christ, God is transforming all creation, beginning with us, to conform us to the image of the Son — and this affects all creation.

For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. (Romans 8:19-22)

In the end, when all things have come to their fulfillment, we will see that God is “all in all” (1 Corinthians 15:28). This is the unity of all things in Christ. It is the good news of the gospel, which includes you and me and all of creation. Our part is to yield to the transforming power of God’s love that is revealed in Christ and in the hell-shattering depth of his cross and resurrection.

How Much More Shall We Be Saved Through His Life!

For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! (Romans 5:10)

Christ died for all, therefore all died, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:14. We had been God’s enemies, which is to say that we saw God as our enemy, not that God ever saw us as his. We had turned away from God but God never turned away from us. So, even while we viewed God with suspicion and distrust and went our own way, Christ died for us all.

Through his death, we were reconciled to God. This is the truth about all of us. For inasmuch as Christ died for us all, then whatever his death accomplished, it accomplished for us all. The battle has been waged, the power of sin and death have been broken and peace has been won. We have all been reconciled to God through Christ’s victory on the cross. Though not everyone has heard or believed this good news and embraced this peace, it is true nonetheless.

But notice what Paul says next: “How much more, having been reconciled [through the death of Christ], shall we be saved through his life!” Paul’s how much more is a rabbinic form of argument, qal va homer in Hebrew, a form that moves from the lesser to the greater. If it is true that we are reconciled to God through the death of Christ — as all of us are — then it is even more certain that we will be saved through his resurrection life.

Paul reinforces this just a few verses later: “Consequently, just as one trespass [Adam’s sin in the Garden] resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act [Christ’s death on the cross] resulted in justification and life for all people” (Romans 5:18). Paul draws it out even more in 1 Corinthians 15:21-22, “For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.” And so he goes on to say in Romans 6:8, “Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.”

Paul was “convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died” and that “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:14, 19). That being so, how much more shall we be saved by the life of the resurrected Christ.

New Creation Has Come for All

For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. (2 Corinthians 5:14-19)

Love compels us. Such powerful words! Paul has good news to bring and he wants to get it out to as many as he can — could love do any less than that? And Paul is quite convinced that Christ died for all, with the consequence that all died. In other words, there is no one to whom this does not apply. What Christ accomplished by his death on the cross, he accomplished for us all.

But what does it mean that “all died”? In his letter to the Christians at Rome, Paul speaks again about the death of Christ and its relation to us all. He contrasts Adam’s faithless act with Christ’s faithful death on the cross: “Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people” (Romans 5:18). Adam’s deed brought condemnation for all people (for all humanity is connected), so also Christ’s righteous deed — his death for all — brought life for all (for all humanity is connected). Just a few verses later, in Romans 6, Paul shows how this works:

For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin — because anyone who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 6:6-11)

We died with Christ at the cross and have, through this, been set free from sin. With Christ, we died to sin; it no longer has any power over us. With Christ, we also died to death; it no longer has any dominion over us. Paul is confident that since we died with Christ we will also live with him. He urges us, then, to reckon this to be so, to trust in the truth of it, to count ourselves dead to sin but alive to God. Our reckoning does not make it so — it is true whether we reckon it or not — but is our positive response to the truth. It is how we begin to live out the truth (see Faith and Our Inclusion in Christ).

So likewise, in 2 Corinthians 5, Paul says, “And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.” Christ died for all and in him all are made alive. The response of faith is to yield to that life — his life — which is always about Father, Son and Holy Spirit. “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live,” Paul says, “but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).

This is why Paul no longer regards anyone from a “worldly point of view.” That old way has been superseded and no longer makes sense to him. Everything has changed — or perhaps we should say that the truth of everything has been revealed — by the death and resurrection of Christ. “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). Christ has died for all, all have died with him, therefore all will be made alive with him. The new creation has come.

In Ephesians 1, Paul says we are chosen in Christ from before the creation of the world, chosen for God’s purpose of bringing all things in heaven and on earth to unity under Christ. This means, then, that all are chosen, that all are in Christ (see Chosen in Christ for the Unity of All Things). This unity of all things is what the new creation is about.

Paul now regards everyone through the reality of the new creation. The old is gone. It died in the death of Christ, the death in which we all died. The new is here! Christ was raised from the dead, so we also will all be raised with him. “For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive” (1 Corinthians 15:22).

The death of Christ that became our death to sin, the life of Christ which becomes our life, the new creation — “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ.” It is this ministry and message of reconciliation that has been committed to Paul, the message love compels him to bring, the message that “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.”

In the death of Christ on the cross, God was reconciling the whole world to himself, and he does not count our sins against us. The word for “count” here is the same as in Romans 6:11. God does not “count” our sins against us; we should therefore “count” ourselves dead to sin and alive to God. Christ died for us all, therefore we all died to sin. We are all forgiven and set free to live with God in the unity of all things.

Now, note the direction of reconciliation here. In Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself, not himself to the world. God was turning the world back to himself, not himself back to the world, for God has never, ever turned away from us; but we turned away from him. So Paul’s ministry was to bring this message of reconciliation in Christ, which is the gospel:

We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:20-21)

There is no impediment to reconciliation with God; it has all been taken care of in Christ. All that is left is the response of faith, and even that faith is itself a gift of God through the Holy Spirit. “Be reconciled to God,” Paul says. Christ died the death that sin imposed on him, and in his death we all died to sin. His death, in which we all share, has “resulted in justification and life for all people.” Reckon it so and walk with Christ in this new creation.

Faith and Our Inclusion in Christ

In the previous post, we looked at Ephesians 1:3-10 and how God chose all humanity in Christ, “to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ.” This is not just the union of all things with each other but, much more than that, the union of all things with God — Father, Son and Holy Spirit — through Christ, the God-Man. Elsewhere Paul speaks of this as the reconciliation of the world to God through Christ (2 Corinthians 5:19; Colossians 1:19-20) so that God may be “all in all” (1 Corinthians 15:28) even as “Christ is all, and in all” (Colossians 3:11).

Having laid out the universal scope of God’s purpose in Christ, Paul now shows how it plays out at a personal level, where he and his readers dwell:

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to put our hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ* when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession — to the praise of his glory. (Ephesians 1:11-14)

“We” refers to Paul and his associates who, as Jews, were among the first to receive the good news of the gospel and then went out to proclaim it to the nations. “You” refers to the believers in Ephesus, who received their message. In both cases, they responded to the good news in faith. Their faith, however, did not make the message true but was how they embraced the truth of it. They were already included in Christ from before the creation of the world and they were already destined for the unity of all things in Christ even before they ever heard the gospel. (*We should note that the words “were included in Christ,” which I have italicized in the quote above, were added by the NIV translators and have no correlation to the words in the Greek text. Paul was not indicating that the faith of the believers at Ephesus was the occasion or cause of their inclusion in Christ.)

We know the beginning of the journey: we were chosen in Christ from before the foundation of the world. And we also know the end: the unity of all things in heaven and on earth under Christ. These two are essentially the same thing. As it was in the beginning, so it will be in the end — and is even now in the timelessness of God. Yet there is still a “working out” of God’s purpose that takes place within the time/space reality of our world. Knowing the beginning and end of the journey does not do away with the journey itself, where the unity of all things in Christ plays out in the history of creation.

So the inclusion of all of us beforehand does not make faith unnecessary. Faith is part of how God “works out” his eternal purpose in us. It is by faith that we come to know our inclusion in Christ. This faith is itself a gift from God, as we learn in Ephesians 2:8. It comes to us by the work of the Holy Spirit and through hearing the word of the gospel.

When we believe, Paul says, we are “marked with a seal.” Just as faith does not make the gospel or our inclusion in it any truer than it was in the beginning, but affirms the truth of it, so also the mark with which we are sealed attests that we are truly in Christ. Paul identifies this seal as God himself, the Holy Spirit. This sealing had been very evident in the case of the first believers at Ephesus; when they were baptized in the name of Jesus, “the Holy Spirit came on them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied” (Acts 19:5-6).

We — all of us — are chosen in Christ from before creation because God’s purpose has always been to bring all things into unity under Christ. This does not happen apart from faith, apart from turning to God, which inherently happens through Christ and the Holy Spirit, even though they may not always be explicitly recognized as such by the one turning to God. We may certainly expect that the will, pleasure and purpose of Almighty God will be finally successful and fully satisfied, that all in heaven and on earth will be brought together in unity under Christ.

It would appear, then, that all will indeed finally turn to God in faith, whether in this present age or in the age to come. Let us understand, however, that it will not be by coercion, for God is love, and love does not coerce. The love of God does not ever force us violate our wills but, rather, frees us and our wills from our delusions and unnatural desires, so that we may finally and truly be what God created us to be from the beginning.

Chosen in Christ for the Unity of All Things

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight … With all wisdom and understanding, he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times reach their fulfillment — to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ. (Ephesians 1:3-4, 8-10)

It is good to be chosen. When I was a kid, I did not much care for team sports because, when captains were choosing up their sides, picking the fastest, strongest or most skillful players, I was always among the dwindling few at the end (and praying not to be the last). Of course, by that point, it was no longer really about being chosen but about being reluctantly accepted. What good news it is, then, that God has chosen us in Christ — we are chosen, Paul says, not reluctantly accepted.

In the Old Testament, the children of Israel were revealed to be chosen by God. They were chosen in Abraham, whom God promised would be a blessing to all the families of the earth and whose descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky. They were chosen in Isaac, who was the child of God’s promise to Abraham. They were chosen in Isaac’s son Jacob, whose name God changed to Israel. They were chosen by God’s great act of deliverance, leading the children of Israel out of Egypt and into the land of promise. They were chosen, mind you, not because they were paragons of goodness or of anything else but purely out of God’s pleasure and purpose. God chose them out of love (for God is love) and in faithfulness to the promise he made to their fathers.

Israel was chosen to be a holy and priestly people, to represent God before the nations and the nations before God. But as it turned out — and this was no surprise at all to God — they fouled up royally, and by their unfaithfulness, idolatry and shedding of innocent blood ended up in exile. Yet they remained ever the object of God’s unfailing love, pleasure and purpose. So God promised them an Anointed King, a Messiah, a Christ who would not only deliver them from bondage but would bring to fulfillment the gracious purpose God intended for them when he first chose Abraham: the salvation of every family, tribe and nation on earth.

In the New Testament, Israel’s Messiah is revealed to be the eternal Son of God who became flesh and dwelt among us. This is the Incarnation. It was not an afterthought made necessary by the brokenness of humanity but was God’s plan all along. In the beginning, God created us in the divine image and likeness so that we could dwell together with Father, Son and Spirit in holy fellowship. But from the beginning of our history, we turned away from God and went our own way. So the Incarnation became a rescue mission as well. God became fully human (yet remaining fully divine) in order to rescue Israel and all the nations of the world — to dwell with us forever.

Christ became human so that we could become divine. In doing so, he joined himself to all of humanity, because all of humanity is connected. See how the apostle Paul demonstrates the truth and depth of this connection in the way he contrasts Adam and Christ:

Consequently, just as one trespass [Adam’s] resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act [Christ’s] resulted in justification and life for all people. (Romans 5:18)

For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. (1 Corinthians 15:22)

All humanity is connected in Adam, and what he did affected us all, bringing condemnation and death. Likewise, all humanity is connected in Christ, and what he has done affects us all, bringing justification and life.

It is very significant, then, that we are chosen in Christ. We are not chosen alone, or apart from Christ — or apart from anyone else, for that matter — but Christ is the chosen, who fulfills the chosenness of Israel. By his connection to humanity, all humanity is therefore chosen in him. In Ephesians 1, Paul lays out what that means for us all and how we benefit:

• In Christ, we have been blessed with every spiritual blessing (v. 3)
• In Christ, we have been chosen to be holy and blameless in God’s sight (v. 4)
• In Christ, we have been irrevocably adopted as children of God (v. 5)
• In Christ, we have been freely given God’s glorious grace (v. 6)
• In Christ, we have redemption and forgiveness of sins (v. 7)

In verses 8-10, we see the full reach of this: “With all wisdom and understanding [God] made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times reach their fulfillment — to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ.”

In Christ we have a great mystery revealed, the will and pleasure and purpose of God made known: to bring into unity all things in heaven and on earth under Christ. This was always God’s purpose in creation from before the world began. All authority in heaven and on earth has now been given to Christ, who has ascended to his throne at the right hand of the Father, and we are presently living in the outworking his rule and reign. As John says, “the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining” (1 John 2:8). In the end, God will be “all in all” (1 Corinthians 15:28). Yet even now, “Christ is all, and is in all” (Colossians 3:11).

That is an utterly astonishing thing, a divine grace so amazingly extensive that it is hard even for many Christians to believe: God’s will, pleasure and purpose includes everyone and everything. Nothing and no one are to be left out. All are being brought together in perfect unity in the Lord Jesus Christ.

This does not do away with faith, of course, or with the need for faith. But faith is not what makes it true — it is quite true already, as the Scriptures affirm in several ways and several places. Rather, faith is how we respond to this good news and embrace the truth of it.

In my next post we will look more at the role faith plays in this.

The Christ Life is Not Sin Management

We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. (Romans 7:14-17)

Paul’s letter to the Jesus followers at Rome addresses a rift between Jewish believers in Jesus and Gentile believers in Jesus. He shows that they are all in the same boat: “There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Sin is the brokenness of our relationship with God, and every sinful act reveals the brokenness of that relationship, not only with God, but with each other and even within our own selves. This was the problem for both Jews and Gentiles.

The Jews had the law of Moses and the Gentiles had the law of conscience, yet both suffered from the same problem, the problem of sin management. In Romans 7, Paul shows us how this played out. It is not a pretty picture, but an important one. But before he gets into it, Paul first tells us that we have “died to the law” through the body of Christ (that is, through his death on the cross) so that we may belong to Christ, whom God has raised from the dead (v. 4). Does this mean that the law itself was wrong or sinful? No, not at all. Rather, it was through the law that sin became apparent as the destructive thing it is (v. 7). But it also became an opening for sin to rise up and show its ugly, broken self. Paul then offers an example with the Tenth Commandment: “Do not covet.” It is a very good law, and we should be better people for it. But watch what happens:

But sin, seizing the opportunity afforded by the commandment, produced in me every kind of coveting. For apart from the law, sin was dead. Once I was alive apart from the law; but when the commandment came, sin sprang to life and I died. I found that the very commandment that was intended to bring life actually brought death. For sin, seizing the opportunity afforded by the commandment, deceived me, and through the commandment put me to death. (Romans 7:8-11)

Call it the “law of unintended consequences.” The law of God was not intended to be an occasion for sin, yet that is what it became because of the darkness of the human heart. Sin, the brokenness of our relationship with God, “seized the opportunity” — notice that Paul emphasizes this by saying it twice — and showed itself out in relationship with others. The problem was not the law of God but sin itself, our own brokenness. And now Paul begins to describe the desperate plight:

We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. (Romans 7:14-17)

Paul sees a terrible disjointedness at work: wanting to do what is good but not doing it; not wanting to do what is wrong but doing it anyway. Not because the law of God is bad but because of the bondage of our brokenness. Paul speaks of it as being sold into slavery, and it is a terrible bondage. There is no understanding it. Jesus prayed even for those who were crucifying him, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

Now notice carefully the conclusion he draws at this point, for he will say it again just a few verses later: “It is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.” The brokenness has consumed him and is beyond his control. It is not merely a matter of volition, of choosing good rather than evil. It is, rather, an incomprehensible helplessness he expresses here.

Up to this point in Romans 7, I think, what Paul has had in mind is the Jew in relation to the law of Moses. Perhaps he was drawing from his observation of fellow Jews as well as from his own experience and recognizing the common experience. But now, I believe, he turns his mind to the Gentile, who did not have the law of Moses but had the law of conscience. So he continues further down the rabbit hole to show that the case is no better for them. It’s the same story all over, and Paul comes again to the same conclusion:

For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do — this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. (Romans 7:18-20)

Neither Jew nor Gentile have the advantage over the other. They are both enslaved by their broken condition and neither law nor conscience are of any benefit in helping them manage it. There is a terrible disconnect between what God created us to be and what our turning away from God did to us.

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin. (Romans 7:21-25)

It is a wretched condition he has portrayed for us, one that desperately cries out for deliverance. But the good news of the gospel is that there is deliverance. God does not leave us in this terrible condition but delivers us through the Lord Jesus Christ. “Thanks be to God!” Paul is now ready to talk about this deliverance, which is the substance of Romans 8. But first he recaps the problem in a single sentence: “So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.”

At this point, I would like to pause a moment. There are many Christians who have believed and taught that what Paul details in Romans 7 describes the Christian life. If that is so, then ours is truly a very sorry lot, a life of frustration and defeat that leaves us as prisoners and slaves. And it demonstrates the problem of sin management. Surely it is not for this sorry slavery that Paul gives thanks to God. Rather, his thanks and praise is for the deliverance we have in Christ.

So now, let’s proceed to the next verse, which is the beginning of Romans 8. The chapter divisions were not in Paul’s original letter but were added many centuries later. On one hand, I am sorry there is a chapter division here because people often tend to put a mental stop at the end of a chapter, and to stop at the end of Romans 7 would leave us hanging. Yet on the other hand, I am glad for the division here because there is a night and day difference between the life Paul describes in Romans 7 and the one he reveals in Romans 8. Romans 8 is the stunningly and unexpectedly gracious solution to the terrible problem detailed in Romans 7.

Let us, then, step over into Romans 8. Because this post is already longer than usual, we will look at only the first two verses for now, but that will be quite enough to make my point:

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. (Romans 8:1-2)

There are a few important things we can observe here. First is the word, “therefore.” If refers us to what has been said previously. Here, it connects us to Paul’s answer to the question, “Who will deliver me from this body that is subject to death?” The answer: “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

And now Paul begins to explain that answer: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Whatever the desperately dreadful experience was that Paul described in Romans 7, there is now absolutely no condemnation awaiting us. It was never any condemnation that came from God anyway but was the brokenness of our own turning away from God. When we turned from God, we turned from the source of light and life. All that was left for us then was darkness and death. But in Jesus Christ, we are delivered from that.

Paul takes it further. How is it that there is now no condemnation for us in Christ Jesus? “Because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.” In Jesus Christ, we have received the life of the Spirit and are set free from both sin and death.

So now we are not only not condemned but, more than that, we are set free. Apart from Christ, there was imprisonment to the law and slavery to sin. But in and through Christ, we have become dead to the law and are made alive to God — set free to live by the Spirit of Christ.

The Christ life, then, is not a sin management program. Such programs are nothing but chains and checklists and are doomed to failure because they are based on our own ability — and apart from the life and power of God, we are completely helpless. But the stunning revelation that changes everything for us is that the Christ life is Christ himself living in us by the power of the Holy Spirit, revealing Abba Father to us, in us and through us.

Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth

“Weeping and gnashing of teeth” is a phrase often associated with “hell” in the popular religious imagination. It is found seven times in the New Testament, six of those in the book of Matthew, but all of them from the mouth of Jesus. What does this phrase mean? And does it really have anything to do with hell?

• But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 8:12)
• They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 13:42)
• And throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 13:50)
• Then the king told the attendants, “Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matthew 22:13)
• He will cut him to pieces and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 24:51)
• And throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 24:51)
• There will be weeping there, and gnashing of teeth, when you see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, but you yourselves thrown out. (Luke 13:28)

Weeping and Gnashing
What do these words mean, and what does this phrase indicate? Let’s look first at the “gnashing” of teeth. The Greek noun is brugmos; the verb form is brucho, to “gnash.” There are several instances of these words found in the LXX (the Septuagint, ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament). It is not used to indicate remorse, or the suffering of torment, or the pangs of hell but is a symbol of anger and often depicts snarling or growling.

• “God assails me and tears me in his anger and gnashes [brucho] his teeth at me; my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes.” (Job 16:9)
• “But when I stumbled, they gathered in glee; assailants gathered against me without my knowledge. They slandered me without ceasing. Like the ungodly they maliciously mocked; they gnashed [brucho] their teeth at me.” (Psalm 35:15-16)
• “The wicked plot against the righteous and gnash [brucho] their teeth at them.” (Psalm 37:12)
• A king’s wrath is like the growling [brugmos] of a lion.” (Proverbs 19:12)
• “The wicked will see and be vexed, they will gnash [brucho] their teeth and waste away; the longings of the wicked will come to nothing.” (Psalm 112:10)
• “All your enemies open their mouths wide against you; they scoff and gnash [brucho] their teeth and say, ‘We have swallowed her up. This is the day we have waited for; we have lived to see it.’” (Lamentations 2:16)

In none of these verses does the use of brucho or brugmos indicate remorse. They all indicate anger.

In the New Testament, in addition to Jesus’ use in the Gospel, we find the verb brucho in Acts 7:54, where it indicates the anger of the Jews at Stephen’s preaching, just before they stone him. “When they heard these things they were cut to the heart, and they gnashed [brucho] at him with their teeth.” Here it is used very literally but still as an expression of intense anger.

The word Greek word for “weeping,” klauthmos, can certainly mean remorse, as it does in a few instances in the LXX. But more often than not, it indicates a lament that is not about remorse. Remorse is regret about one’s own action, but lament is about loss or calamity that has befallen. It is not the silent weeping of one bravely holding back tears; it is the dramatic wailing of one who has suffered great loss.

But what is the cause of the angry lamentation and seething rage we find in the New Testament examples? Is it loss of heaven or consignment to eternal perdition? No, it is something very different and close to hand. It does not depict a post-mortem, other-worldly condition but a now ancient event. It is not about hades, the realm of the dead, but about gehenna, an historical judgment. In every instance, this “weeping and gnashing of teeth” has to do with the kingdom of God.

The Kingdom of God
The burden of Jesus’ preaching ministry in Matthew was that the kingdom of God had now come into the world. His parables were all about the kingdom, and his miracles were a manifestation of the presence and power of the kingdom. His Sermon on the Mount was, from beginning to end, about the kingdom.

Toward the end of his Sermon, Jesus warned, “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matthew 7:13-14). Remember that he was addressing Jewish listeners and was particularly critical of the Pharisees. There was a “narrow” way that led to life — which in context of the kingdom of God would be participation in the kingdom — and few would find it.

But there was also a “broad” way that was headed for destruction, and many would follow that path. Understand, also, that the “many” and the “few” of whom he was speaking was particularly in reference to the Jews. For just a handful of verses later he speaks of those who find the kingdom, and this is where we find the first reference to “weeping and gnashing.”

I say to you that many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 8:11-12)

Notice that there will be many, not few, who come into the kingdom. They come from east and from west. They are not of Israel or Judea. They are not Jewish but Gentile, which is to say that they are from the surrounding pagan nations. Many of these would come and take their place at table in the kingdom of God.

But what of the many Jews who followed the broad way to destruction? They were the natural subjects of the kingdom and to whom all the promises belonged? They would be thrown out. They would not have any part in the kingdom that should have been theirs. These are the same who, in Jesus’ parables, are thrown into the “blazing furnace” (Matthew 13:42, 50), thrown outside, “into the darkness” (Matthew 22:13; 25:30), and assigned “a place with the hypocrites” (Matthew 24:51). In each instance, they are enraged, wailing and seething in anger.

The End of the Age
This “weeping and gnashing,” Jesus said, would occur at “the end of the age.” In Matthew 24, Jesus tells us about when that would be. He had just been in the temple, where he had pronounced a series of “woes” to the Scribes and Pharisees. He wept over Jerusalem, whom he had longed to gather under his protection — but they refused. And he foresaw what they were unable or unwilling to see: “Your house will be left to you desolate” (Matthew 23:37-39).

As he departed from the temple, the disciples came marveling about the immensity and grandeur of the temple complex. But Jesus answered, “Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”

The disciples were curious. Confused. Concerned. They came to him later, on the Mount of Olives, and asked him about it. “When will this happen, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” They were not asking him about three different things but about one thing three different ways. They wanted to know when the temple would be destroyed. This, for the Jews, would be tantamount to the end of the world. But the disciples were now associating it with the sign of Christ coming in the glory and power of his kingdom. The end of their present age would mark the beginning of the new age of the kingdom.

The rest of Matthew 24 is Jesus’ answer to their question. Both the city of Jerusalem and the temple were to experience terrible destruction, as would all who were in them. It would be the end of the age — and it would happen within their generation (see verse 34).

Jesus’ prophecy was fulfilled in the summer of AD 70, when the Roman armies that had laid siege for three and a half years finally reduced the city and temple complex to bloody rubble. This was the destruction to which the “broad” way of Matthew 7:13 led. The Jewish temple system was no more. The Jews who would not follow the “narrow” way of the kingdom, and of Messiah, God’s Anointed King, had Jerusalem ripped from their hands. And there was much “wailing and gnashing” of teeth in the days that followed.

Random Thoughts

Thoughts culled from my random file, gathered from my Twitter tweets, Facebook updates and Instagrams. About divine love, relationship with God and new life in Christ. Some have come to me in moments of quiet reflection, some in interaction with others. Offered as “jump starts” for your faith.

• The good news of the gospel is that King Jesus the Messiah, whom God has raised from the dead, is Lord of all. Follow him.
• Intimate relationship with God is the seedbed for every pure desire.
• Jesus said that out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. If you want to know what is in your heart, stop and listen to your mouth.
• Sometimes the breakthrough we need the most is the breaking of our hearts.
• We change the world by surrendering to the passion of God.
• We are as close to God as we are ever going to be. In him, we live and move and have our being. We just do not yet realize how close that really is.
• We do not truly understand the meaning of a thing until we find Christ within it.
• A prayer for writers: Lord, give me grace today to write what is true. Amen.
• I am always in need of the mercy of God ... especially when I think I am doing alright.
• The revelation of Jesus Christ transforms us. We become what we behold.
• Today I silence all the voices that speak out against me. The blood of King Jesus declares much better things over me.
• Today I am living out of the new creation and ignoring the remnant echoes of the old.
• Give up the vain struggle to overcome sin. It has already been overcome by Jesus the Messiah. Dwell on him.
• Lord, fill me with the desire for You. Fill me with a desire for the things You desire. Then fill all those desires. Amen.
• Repentance is turning to God, away from dependence on everything that isn’t God. Everyday is a good day to repent and learn to trust God more.
• Christ is best revealed in us not by our perfections but by our helplessness.
• Christ fully embraces my brokenness and heals me with his love.
• The whole world is a sacrament that everywhere presents us with the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
• Lord, let me be emptied of everything but You, that I may be truly filled. Amen.
• The change we really need does not come from psychological techniques or spiritual disciplines but by the gracious work of the Holy Spirit.
• How blessed it is to realize our helplessness, for then we can hope in God and trust His love.
• How blessed it is to acknowledge our sin, for then we can hope in God and trust His forgiveness.
• When we choose to forgive, we are allowing God to love another through us.
• Forgiveness is choosing to trust that, whatever wrong we may have suffered by another, God will make us whole. It begins with the words, “I forgive,” and continues as often as the need arises in our heart.

More random thoughts …

Reading with the Church Fathers (Part 3)

Jesus taught that the Law and the Prophets are about him. That is how the early Church Fathers understood the Old Testament, rejecting interpretations that were inconsistent with the revelation of God in Christ, as presented in the New Testament and the sacraments. This often entailed setting aside literal interpretations as unworthy of Christ.

An important and often disturbing issue that regularly comes up concerns the violent passages in the Old Testament. Though there have been several strategies to mitigate the magnitude of physical violence indicated by a literal reading of these passages, there remains much that does not square with the revelation of Jesus Christ. The Church Fathers, therefore, found Christ in the Old Testament Scriptures through non-literal interpretations, as did the New Testament writers. In this post, we will see how they understood two of the most prominent scenarios: the violence texts found in the book of Joshua, and the instruction given to Saul to slay all of the Amalekites.

Joshua
There are several scenes in the book of Joshua that indicate divinely-sanctioned violence. By a literal reading, it sounds like genocide, the total destruction of a people. Origen addresses these in his Homilies on Joshua. He does not take them literally but as Christ defeating our spiritual enemies. Concerning the violence done to the cities of Lachish, Libnah, and Hebron (Joshua 10), Origen says:

But one who is “a Jew secretly,” that is, a Christian, who follows Jesus, not as the son of Nun but as the Son of God, understands all these things are mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. He affirms that even now my Lord Jesus Christ wars against opposing powers and casts out of their cities, that is, out of our souls, those who used to occupy them. And he destroys the kings who were rulers in our souls “that sin may no longer reign in us,” so that, after he abolishes the king of sin from the city of our soul, our soul may become the city of God and God may reign in it, and it may be proclaimed to us, “Behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Homilies on Joshua, by Origen. Translated by Barbara J. Bruce. Homily 13, p. 125)

Concerning the things that followed after Jabin, in Joshua 11, Origen says:

Unless those physical wars bore the figure of spiritual wars, I do not think the books of Jewish history would ever have been handed down by the apostles to the disciples of Christ, who came to teach peace, so that they could be read in the churches. For what good was that description of wars to those to whom Jesus says, “My peace I give to you; my peace I leave to you,” and to whom it is commanded and said through the Apostle, “Not avenging your own selves,” and, “Rather, you receive injury,” and, “You suffer offense”? In short, knowing that we do not have to wage physical wars, but that the struggles of the should have to be exerted against spiritual adversaries, the Apostle, just as a military leader, gives an order to the soldiers of Christ, says, “Put on the armor of God, so that you may be able to stand firm against the cunning devices of the Devil.” And in order for us to have examples of these spiritual wars from deeds of old, he wanted those narratives of exploits to be recited to us in the church, so that, if we are spiritual — hearing that “the Law is spiritual” — “we may compare spiritual things with spiritual” in the things we hear. (Homily 15, p. 138)

1 Samuel 15

Samuel said to Saul, “I am the one the LORD sent to anoint you king over his people Israel; so listen now to the message from the LORD. This is what the LORD Almighty says: ‘I will punish the Amalekites for what they did to Israel when they waylaid them as they came up from Egypt. Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy all that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.’” (1 Samuel 15:1-3)

This was the word Samuel brought to King Saul. By a literal reading, Saul was to completely destroy the Amalekites. There was to be no mercy. Every man, woman, all the children, including infants, were to be slaughtered along with all the cattle, sheep, camels and donkeys. Saul carried out this command. Mostly. But he left alive King Agag. And he took some of the choice sheep and cattle and offered them in sacrifice before the Lord, though it was not his place to do so.

When Samuel came and discovered Saul’s failure to obey completely, he was very displeased and said to him, “Does the LORD delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the LORD? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams ... You have rejected the word of the LORD, and the LORD has rejected you as king over Israel!” (1 Samuel 15:22, 26). Then Samuel had Agag brought before him, “and Samuel put Agag to death before the LORD at Gilgal” (v. 33).

How very different this sounds from the image of God that is perfectly expressed in Jesus Christ. But how did the Church Fathers understand this passage through Christ? Most of them did not address the question of violence but focused on the spiritual issue of obedience to the Lord. There is, however, this from Maximus the Confessor, in his second hundred of his Two Hundred Texts on Theology:

53. Saul is the natural law originally established by the Lord to rule over nature. But Saul was disobedient: he spared Agag, king of Amalek [cf. 1 Sam 15.8-16, 13], that is, the body, and slipped downward into the sphere of the passions. He was therefore deposed so that David might take over Israel. David is the law of the Spirit — the law engendering that peace which so excellently builds for God the temple of contemplation.

54. Samuel signifies obedience to God. So long as the principle of obedience exercises its priestlike office within us, even though Saul spares Agag — that is, the earthly will — yet that principle in its zeal will put him to death [cf. 1 Sam 15. 33]: it strikes the sin-incited intellect and puts it to shame for having transgressed the divine ordinances. (from The Philokalia, translated by Palmer, Sherrard and Ware, Vol 2, p. 150)

Notice that Maximus does not take this as a literal slaughter of Agag but as controlling the passions between of body and soul. Agag is a symbol of “the earthly will” as opposed to obedience to the will of God.

The Church Fathers repeatedly took the meaning of these kinds of passages to be spiritual in nature, not about physical slaughters but about Christ and the conflicts of the soul.

Part 1 | Part 2

Reading with the Church Fathers (Part 2)

We have been looking at how the early Church Fathers understood various Old Testament passages. A literal or historical reading often presented a portrait of God that contradicts the revelation of God presented in Jesus Christ, who is the “exact representation” of God (Hebrews 1:3). This creates a tremendous theological problem, and some early Christians, following the lead of Marcion, rejected the Old Testament altogether.

The early Church Fathers were well aware of the problem but were unwilling to resolve it by rejecting the Old Testament as Marcion had done. Instead, they read the Scriptures through the revelation of Christ and the gospel, as presented in the New Testament. It was Christ himself who said that the Old Testament Scriptures are about him. But Christ is not plainly presented in the Old Testament as he is in the New, so a plain reading simply will not do — it does not conform to the intended purpose of the Old Testament, which is to present Christ.

The Fathers, then, understood the Old Testament through metaphorical, symbolic and allegorical readings. Now we will look at a few more examples.

Deuteronomy 7:1-2

When the LORD your God brings you into the land you are entering to possess and drives out before you many nations — the Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites, seven nations larger and stronger than you — and when the LORD your God has delivered them over to you and you have defeated them, then you must destroy them totally. Make no treaty with them, and show them no mercy.

By a literal reading, this prescribes what sounds very much like a genocide — not just the defeat of an enemy but the total destruction of an entire people. No treaty, no quarter, no mercy. But is this how God is portrayed in Christ, or how Christ is portrayed in the New Testament? The Church Fathers certainly did not think so. John Cassian, in his Conferences, reads this passage in a figurative way and understands the seven nations not as seven actual nations to be annihilated but as vices to be completely eliminated.

These are the seven nations whose lands the Lord promised to give to the children of Israel when they left Egypt. We must accept the fact that, according to the apostle, all the things that happened to them in a figure were written for our instruction. The reason that they are said to be much more numerous is that there are more vices than virtues. Therefore in the list they are counted as seven nations, to be sure, but when it is a question of destroying them they are said to be innumerable. (Conference 5)

Psalm 137:8-9

Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who repays you according to what you have done to us. Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.

By a literal reading, this sounds like God blesses the wanton and calloused destruction of Edom (the “daughter” of Edom) and even the brutal killing of infants (or children, or perhaps young men). But a literal reading contradicts what Christ teaches us: to love our enemies. So a literal reading was set aside by the early Church Fathers, who interpreted this text along these lines:

And David, pitying her, says, “O wretched daughter of Babylon.” Wretched indeed, as being the daughter of Babylon, when she ceased to be the daughter of Jerusalem. And yet he calls for a healer for her and says, “Blessed is he who shall take your little ones and dash them against the rock.” That is to say, shall dash all corrupt and filthy thoughts against Christ, who by his fear and his rebuke will break down all actions against reason, so as, if any one is seized by an adulterous love, to extinguish the fire, that he may by his zeal put away the love of a harlot and deny himself that he may gain Christ. (Ambrose, Concerning Repentance)

For “the little ones” of Babylon (which signifies confusion) are those troublesome sinful thoughts that arise in the soul, and one who subdues them by striking, as it were, their heads against the firm and solid strength of reason and truth, is the person who “dashes the little ones against the stones”; and he is therefore truly blessed. God may therefore have commanded people to destroy all their vices utterly, even at their birth, without having enjoined anything contrary to the teaching of Christ. And he may himself have destroyed before the eyes of those who were “Jews inwardly” all the offspring of evil as his enemies. (Origen, Against Celsus)

Isaiah 63:1-6

Who is this coming from Edom, from Bozrah, with his garments stained crimson? Who is this, robed in splendor, striding forward in the greatness of his strength? “It is I, proclaiming victory, mighty to save.” Why are your garments red, like those of one treading the winepress? “I have trodden the winepress alone; from the nations no one was with me. I trampled them in my anger and trod them down in my wrath; their blood spattered my garments, and I stained all my clothing. It was for me the day of vengeance; the year for me to redeem had come. I looked, but there was no one to help, I was appalled that no one gave support; so my own arm achieved salvation for me, and my own wrath sustained me. I trampled the nations in my anger; in my wrath I made them drunk and poured their blood on the ground.”

Again, by a literal reading, this sounds like God rejoicing to destroy Edom in a rage of revenge and blood-lust. But again, this is not at all like God as portrayed by Christ and the gospel. But see how very differently the Fathers understood this passage by a Christ-shaped reading.

The only-begotten Word of God ascended in the heavens with his flesh united to him, and this was a new sight in the heavens. The multitude of holy angels was astounded seeing the king of glory and the Lord of hosts in a form similar to ours. And they said, “Who is this that comes from Edom [that is, from earth], in crimsoned garments, from Bosor.” But “Bosor” is to be interpreted as “flesh” or “anguish and affliction.” (Cyril of Alexandria, Letter 41)

And does not also the Holy Spirit, speaking in Isaiah, testify the same thing concerning the passion of the Lord, saying, “Why are your vestments red and your garments as from treading the wine press full and well-trodden?” For can water make vestments red, or is it water that is trodden by the feet in the winepress or forced out by the press? The mention of wine is placed there, indeed, that in the wine the blood of the Lord may be known and that which was afterward manifested in the chalice of the Lord might be foretold by the prophets who announced it. The treading and pressing of the winepress are also spoken of, since wine cannot be prepared for drinking in any other way unless the cluster of grapes is first trodden and pressed. Thus, we could not drink the blood of Christ unless Christ had first been trodden on and pressed, and unless he had first drunk the chalice of which he should also give believers to drink. (Cyprian, Letter 63)

And, if they marvel and say, as in Isaiah’s drama, “Who is this that comes from Edom and from the things of the earth?” or “How are the garments red when he is without blood or body, as of one that treads in the full winepress?” — if they say this, then set forth the beauty of the array of the body that suffered, adorned by the passion and made splendid by the Godhead. Nothing can be lovelier or more beautiful than that. Will you think little of him because he humbled himself for your sake? Do you conceive of him as less because he girds himself with a towel and washes his disciples and shows that humiliation is the best road to exaltation? (Gregory of Nazianzus, On Holy Easter, Oration 45)

They call the red land “Edom,” and “Bosor” to the flesh; they were amazed at the ineffable beauty of the one wrapped in earthly and fleshly apparel, such as to drive those who looked to love. The blessed David is mindful of this beauty: “Fair and beautiful among the sons of humankind.” That Edom means flame-colored is affirmed in the Song of Songs by the bride, who cries, “My beloved is red and white.” Christ’s nature is twofold. Therefore, white means the inaccessible light of divinity, red the human appearance. For this is the time for these who were brazen to receive retribution and for those unjustly enslaved by them to get their freedom. He calls “arm” the power of righteousness, for he guarded spotless and free from sin the nature that he assumed. We who have benefited from this good work and have been delivered from that bitter slavery, let us sing praises to the author of these things. He was the one who underwent the battle and provided us with the gift of victory and peace. Let us hope that we can enjoy this victory until the end, by the grace of the one who has conquered. (Theodoret of Cyr, Commentary on Isaiah)

In order, however, that you might discover how anciently wine is used as a figure for blood, turn to Isaiah, who asks, “Who is this that comes from Edom, from Bosor with garments dyed in red, so glorious in his apparel, in the greatness of his might? Why are your garments red, and your clothing as his who comes from the treading of the full winepress?” The prophetic Spirit contemplates the Lord as if he were already on his way to his passion, clad in his fleshly nature; and as he was to suffer therein, he represents the bleeding condition of his flesh under the metaphor of garments dyed in red, as if reddened in the treading and crushing process of the winepress, from which the laborers descend reddened with the wine juice, like men stained in blood. (Tertullian, Against Marcion)

For the Fathers, this was not the blood of physical enemies but of Christ. This is the passion and humility of the cross; not Christ taking the life of the Edomites in a bloody rampage but Christ giving his own life, shedding his own blood for our sakes. Some also saw, in the opening lines, a depiction of Christ ascending into heaven, risen and victorious.

Of course, the Fathers were not infallible in their interpretations. But the point is that they were reading the Old Testament in ways that are consistent with Christ instead of in literal ways that contradict him.

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Reading with the Church Fathers

As we saw in the last post, the New Testament authors found Jesus throughout the Old Testament — not by a plain, literal reading of the text but by figurative, metaphorical and allegorical readings. The early Church Fathers followed this same pattern of interpretation. The examples of this are as numerous as the Old Testament Scriptures themselves, over the next few posts, we will focus on a few of them. We will first consider them from a literal or historical reading, then we will look at how the early Fathers understood them through a Christ-centered, gospel-centered reading.

Psalm 41
This psalm came up in my devotional reading this morning. By a plain, historical reading, it is about David and his experience of God. But the Church Fathers understood it as about Christ and the gospel. Theodoret of Cyr makes an observation in this psalm that is generally applicable to all the psalms: “Since the Lord says, ‘for the Scripture to be fulfilled,’ and shows the present psalm applies to him and no one else, I consider it rash and presumptuous to develop another explanation not applicable to him” (Commentary on the Psalms).

Ambrose comments on the superscription as it is found in the Septuagint version of this psalm. “He who had perished in Adam had to be restored in Christ. That is why we have, at the head of the psalm, ‘To the end,’ because Christ is the end to which all our hope is directed” (Commentary on Twelve Psalms).

Blessed are those who have regard for the weak; the LORD delivers them in times of trouble. (Psalm 41:1)

Gregory of Nyssa says of this: “The Word defines blessedness for us in another way than at the beginning. For in the first psalms, to depart from evil was blessed, but here to know the good more fully is pronounced blessed. Now the nature of the good is the ‘only-begotten God,’ ‘who, though he was rich, for our sake became poor.’ The Word here predicts his ‘poverty’ in the flesh, which is pointed out to us through the Gospel account, pronouncing the one who has recognized that ‘poverty’ with understanding blessed” (Treatise on the Inscriptions of the Psalms).

I said, “Have mercy on me, LORD; heal me, for I have sinned against you.” (Psalm 41:4)

Theodoret of Cyr understands this as Christ identifying with us in our poverty, suffering and sin: “I am the one who is poor, he is saying, who embraced voluntary poverty, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, who makes my own the sufferings of human beings, who though having committed no sin offers the prayer for human nature as nature’s firstfruits” (Commentary on the Psalms).

My enemies say of me in malice, “When will he die and his name perish?” (Psalm 41:5)

Here, Augustine says: “He died, but his name did not disappear; far from it. Rather was his name sown like seed. As the grain was dead, the harvest sprang up. No sooner had our Lord Jesus Christ been glorified than people came to believe in him far more strongly and in much greater numbers; and then his members began to hear the same mutterings that their Head had heard” (Expositions of the Psalms).

When one of them comes to see me, he speaks falsely, while his heart gathers slander; then he goes out and spreads it around. All my enemies whisper together against me; they imagine the worst for me, saying, ‘A vile disease has afflicted him; he will never get up from the place where he lies.’ Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me. (Psalm 41:6-9)

Theodoret sees in this the false charges brought against Christ as he stood before Pilate. Ambrose and Augustine see Christ’s betrayal by Judas, as do Arnobius the Younger and Diodore of Tarsus.

But may you have mercy on me, LORD; raise me up, that I may repay them. I know that you are pleased with me, for my enemy does not triumph over me. Because of my integrity you uphold me and set me in your presence forever. (Psalm 41:10-12)

Theodoret says: “All this was said on the part of the nature assumed, which was involved also in the passion. Since, then, the assumed nature remained free of all wickedness, it was right for him to say, ‘But you supported me for my innocence and confirmed me in your presence forever’” (Commentary on the Psalms).

Second Kings 2:8-14
This passage also came up in my devotional reading this morning. By a literal, historical reading, it is about the prophets Elijah and Elisha.

Elijah took his cloak, rolled it up and struck the water with it. The water divided to the right and the to left, and the two of them crossed over on dry ground. When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?” “Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,” Elisha replied. “You have asked a difficult thing,” Elijah said, “yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours — otherwise, it will not.” As they were walking along and talking together, suddenly a chariot of fire and horses of fire appeared and separated the two of them, and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind. Elisha saw this and cried out, “My father! My father! The chariots and horsemen of Israel!” And Elisha saw him no more. Then he took hold of his garment and tore it in two. (2 Kings 2:9-14)

The simple narrative is that Elijah parts the Jordan River by striking it with his mantle, then they both passed between the waters to the other side. There is a brief conversation about Elisha receiving Elijah’s spirit. Then a chariot of fire suddenly appears and Elijah is conveyed to heaven in a whirlwind. Reading through the lens of Christ and the gospel, however, the Fathers see that there is much more at work in this account.

Origen understands the parting of the Jordan and crossing to the other side as baptism, just as Paul, in 1 Corinthians 10:2, understood Moses leading the children of Israel between the waters of the Red Sea as baptism:

We must note in addition that when Elijah was about to be taken up in a whirlwind as into heaven, he took his sheepskin and rolled it up and struck the water, and it was divided on this side and that, and both crossed, that is to say, himself and Elisha. He was better prepared to be taken up after he was baptized in the Jordan, since Paul, as we explained previously, called the more incredible passage through water a baptism. (Commentary on the Gospel of John)

He understands the “spirit” of Elijah in regard to John the Baptist as a precursor of Christ:

And this also we have brought forward, because of John having come before Christ “in the spirit and power of Elijah,” in order that the saying “Elijah has already come” may be referred to the spirit of Elijah that was in John; as also the three disciples who had gone up with him understood that he spoke to them about John the Baptist ... And likewise, by Elijah, in this place, I do not understand the soul of that prophet but his spirit and his power; for these it is by which all things shall be restored, so that when they have been restored, and, as a result of that restoration, become capable of receiving the glory of Christ, the Son of God who shall appear in glory may sojourn with them.” (Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew)

Bede the Venerable, in his Homilies on the Gospels, understands the whole narrative as a rich typology of the death, resurrection and ascension of Christ, the imparting of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and the institution of the sacraments of the Church. This is a longer passage but provides a very good example of a Christ-centered reading of the Old Testament.

The prophets proclaimed the mystery of the Lord’s ascension not only by their words but also by their actions. Both Enoch, the seventh from Adam, who was transported from the world, and Elijah, who was taken up into heaven, gave evidence that the Lord would ascend above all the heavens …

Let your love take note, my brothers, how the symbolic event agrees point by point with its fulfillment. Elijah came to the river Jordan, and having laid aside his cloak, he struck the waters and divided them. The Lord came to the stream of death, in which the human race ordinarily was immersed, and laying aside from himself for a time the clothing of flesh that he had assumed, struck down death by dying and opened up for us the way to life by rising. The change and decline of our mortal life is properly represented by the river Jordan, since the meaning of Jordan in Latin is “their descent,” and since as the river flows into the Dead Sea, it loses its praiseworthy waters.

After Jordan was divided, Elijah and Elisha crossed over on dry land; by his rising from the dead the Savior bestowed on his faithful ones the hope of rising too. After they had crossed over the river Jordan, Elijah gave Elisha the option of asking for what he wanted. The Lord too, after the glory of his resurrection had been fulfilled, implanted in his disciples a fuller comprehension of what he had promised previously, that “whatever you ask in my name, I will do.”

Elisha asked that the spirit of Elijah might become double in him. The disciples, thoroughly instructed by the Lord, desired to receive the promised gift of the Spirit, which would make them capable of preaching not only to the single nation of Judah, which he himself taught when he was present in the flesh, but to all countries throughout the globe as well. Did he not pledge the double grace of his Spirit when he said, “A person who believes in me will himself also do the works that I do, and he will do even greater ones than these”?

As Elijah and Elisha were conversing together, a chariot with fiery horses suddenly snatched Elijah as if into heaven. By the chariot and fiery horses we are to understand the angelic powers, of whom it is written, “He makes the angels his spirits and his ministers a burning fire” (Elijah, being an ordinary human being, had need of them to be raised up from the earth). The Lord too was suddenly taken up as he was speaking with his apostles and as they were looking on; although he was not assisted by the help of angels, he was served by an angelic band of companions. He was truly assumed into heaven with the angels also bearing witness to it, for they said, “This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven.”

When Elijah was raised up to the heavens, he let the cloak with which he had been clothed fall to Elisha. When our Lord ascended into heaven, he left the mysteries of the humanity he had assumed to his disciples, to the entire church in fact, so that it could be sanctified by them and warmed by the power of his love. Elisha took up Elijah’s cloak and struck the waters of the river Jordan with it; and when he called on the God of Elijah, were divided, and he crossed over. The apostles and the entire church took up the sacraments of their Redeemer that had been instituted through the apostles, so that, spiritually guided by them and cleansed and consecrated by them, they too learned to overcome death’s assaults by calling on the name of God the Father and to cross over to undying life, spurning the obstacles of death.

Though we may not be accustomed to reading the Old Testament in this fashion, the Church Fathers were. But it is important to note that they were not undisciplined or unlimited in their approach. Their understanding of the Old Testament did not venture outside the boundaries of Christ and the gospel. All was understood within that framework.

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