Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Suffering for the Right Reasons

Passage: 1 Peter 4:14-19

When we encounter hardship or suffering, we tend to seek some explanation. As it turns out the explanations we come up with intuitively are often misguided. We conclude that we’re suffering at the hands of unjust people or an unjust cosmos; we conclude that we’re suffering at the hands of angry God. Either way we decide that we’re being treated unfairly and that if God loved us he’d make it stop.

In his first letter to the church, Peter tells us that suffering is inevitable. And he goes on to caution Christians not to suffer for the wrong reasons. The wrong reason, says Peter, is suffering the consequences of contravening God’s Law. If you’re living your life in ignorance, or willful disobedience, of God’s Law, you’ll suffer. Not because God is singling you out and punishing you. But because God created the world to work a certain way, and your resistance to it is creating disorder around you. You violate God’s Law, and things will fall apart. You’ll suffer. Peter says, “Make sure this isn’t why you’re having a hard time.”

That being said, Peter doesn’t claim that if you’re doing everything right you’re not going to suffer. On the contrary, he agrees with his fellow apostles that if you’re living the Christian life, suffering is part of the package. Why? Because you’re aligning yourself with Christ, who suffered profoundly. Ours is a world flawed by sin and embroiled in rebellion against God. Those who by their words and actions live as God’s allies will face inevitable resistance. A world that is comfortable in its opposition to God will want to silence and shun any of God’s human representatives.
Peter tells his church to take stock. To assess how they’re suffering and why. And to make sure they’re suffering not because of their resistance to God but because of their kinship with Christ.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Your Family Tree

Passage: Matthew 1:1-17

Most of the Bible readers I know roll their eyes when they get to another genealogy. After all, the Old and New Testaments are full of lists of different kinds. What’s another list of names? It’s tempting to skip over passages like Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus in order to get to the interesting stuff.

But what if there was interesting stuff in the genealogy? It’s not for no reason that Matthew begins his account of the Son of God the way he does. And as a matter of fact Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus doesn’t just contain some interesting tidbits. In its 17 short verses Matthew summarizes God’s work in the Old Testament and sets the stage for the Gospel.
In the first of his two-volume commentary on Matthew, Frederick Dale Bruner draws the following insights from the genealogy of Jesus:

First, it consists of three sets of fourteen generations. The first captures the upward, hopeful trajectory of Israel's history from the time of Abraham to the reign of King David; the second details the downward spiral of God’s people from the reign of Solomon to the Babylonian exile; the third traces their hopeful climb from exile to the arrival of the Messiah.
Second, it includes three sets of surprises: the inclusion of four women in the first 14 generations; four name alterations in the second 14; and the addition of a fifth woman and fifth alteration in the third 14.

The four women in the first section are:
  • Tamar (who bore a forebear of Jesus through an illegitimate union with her father-in-law. Who needs reality TV?);
  • Rahab (former prostitute and pagan adopted into the nation of Israel after God destroyed her city);
  • Ruth (descendant of Lot, Moabitess, outsider);
  • Bathsheba (who isn’t even named directly because of the tawdry details of her part of the story).
The significance? Grace. God redeems rejects; sinners, and even events that seem only to be tragic mistakes. God takes them and grafts them into the crowning achievement of his grace.

The four alterations of the second section are:
  • changing the name of the king, Asa, to that of the psalmist Asaph;
  • omitting the kings Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah (who should be included, historically speaking, after Joram);
  • changing the name of the king, Amon, to that of the prophet, Amos;
  • omitting Jehoiakim just before Jeconiah.
Bruner argues that these subtle changes and omissions are intentional on Matthew’s part (some commentators say they were errors; the NIV even “corrects” the spellings of Asa and Amon!). Matthew removes the names of kings from the list to signify God’s judgment on those kings (with the additional benefit of shaving his list down to a nice, round, 14 names). Their rebellion and corruption were so great the Gospel writer strikes them from the lineage of the Savior. God’s judgment culminates in the exile, which rounds out this section of 14 generations.

The final section includes an additional woman (Mary, mother of Jesus) and an additional omission (the name of a human father for Jesus). Here Matthew highlights again God’s grace in the selection of Mary to give birth to the Savior, while subtly establishing that Jesus was conceived not by a human couple but by the Spirit of God.

As adoptees into the family of God through Jesus Christ, we accept Matthew’s genealogy as our family tree. Like the four unexpected additions in the first section, we are flawed outsiders who nonetheless are given an important place. In the four omissions of the second section we are cautioned to live lives that reflect our privileged status as God’s adopted children. In the third section we are introduced to the means of adoption, our one and only Savior.
And you thought it was just a list of names…

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Servant of the LORD

Passage: Isaiah 42:1-9

The “Servant of the LORD” is a mysterious figure in the Book of Isaiah. Commentators disagree on the identity of this servant. Some claim that he is an unnamed king of Israel. Some claim that he is one of the prophets – perhaps even Isaiah himself. Others argue that the “Servant of the LORD” is a euphemism for God’s entire chosen people. Most commentators agree that when Isaiah’s words regarding the “Servant of the LORD” are taken as a whole, they describe no single figure found in Hebrew history or literature. Isaiah’s words suggest, perhaps, one who is yet to come.

And Isaiah’s words carry immense promise. The promise is that God will send someone who will bring justice to every corner of the earth. The promise is that this one who has been specially commissioned and sent by God will bring healing; wisdom; freedom; and peace. That he will usher in a new era in which God’s good order will be re-established. That being said, the Servant of the LORD won’t use force – not the violence, coercion and oppression on which human governments rely far too often. He will change the world without raising his voice; without breaking those who are already bruised; without snuffing out those in whom the spark of life barely smolders. He comes to heal the broken; lift the downtrodden; fan into flame those who have all but given up. Wouldn’t it be great if this Servant of the LORD was already here?

Monday, March 21, 2011

This Changes Everything

Passage: Luke 3:1-22

Our state’s new governor has come under some criticism lately. He ran for office on a platform of commonsense spending cuts and fiscal responsibility. And he was elected based on the promise that he’d turn our financially floundering state around. Everyone who voted for him wanted things to change – for the better, of course. Well, in order to change things, you have to change things. No matter the reasons for the change, and no matter how well-intentioned the specific changes, someone’s going to be unhappy. The new governor has proposed some big changes. And a lot of people are unhappy.

John the Baptist arrives on the scene in Luke 3. It’s Roman-occupied Palestine in the first century. John’s people – the remnant of God’s chosen people, the Israelites – are hoping for change. They’ve lived under oppressive imperial rule for a long time. They’ve been confined by heavy taxes and externally-imposed borders, and they’re ready to shake off the shackles. They’ve pinned their hopes on the Messiah, a quasi-mythical character alluded to in their Scriptures and kept alive in their legends. They expect the Messiah to sweep in and change everything – for the better, of course.

John shows up and says, “The Messiah is finally here.” But, he continues, you’re going to have to change. And the changes that John demands aren’t popular changes. “The Messiah’s reign is going to cost you,” he says. “You’re going to have to give your surplus money and belongings to the poor. You’re going to have to give up the parts of your income you’ve collected dishonestly. You’re going to have to use whatever power or privilege you have to help someone less powerful or privileged.” In other words, this change is going to cost you.

Claiming Jesus as king is costly. It means allowing him a say in every part of your life. It means laying aside many of the good things you have access to here and now. It means taking part in his project of changing the world for the better – even though changing the world means changing yourself along the way. In Luke 3 we’re told there are people who aren't happy with the changes John proposes – in particular Herod, the reigning king of the Jews. What he’s faced with – what we’re all faced with – is the reality that Jesus can’t take the throne until we vacate it. Is that something we’re ready to do?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

When you pass through the waters...

Passage: Isaiah 43:1-13

I just heard a news report about a 70-year-old woman whose home was swept out to sea by last week’s tsunami. Miraculously, the woman survived the ordeal and was rescued today. One can only speculate as to her frame of mind today. Is she bitter that her house and all her possessions were obliterated in one fell swoop? Or is she just glad to be alive?

In the poignant words of Isaiah 43, God tells his people that he will never abandon them to the disasters of this broken world. He identifies himself as their “Savior”, and tells them again and again not to fear. God will always rescue his people.
That being said, God does not promise that disaster won’t strike. He says,
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
Not, "if you pass through the waters"; not "the fire and water will never come." When. When you face fire, water, hail and thunder; tsunami, recession, cancer, death. When the inevitable disaster comes, fear not. The LORD your God, the Holy One, your Savior, has redeemed you, and you are his. He will never leave your side.

Discipline

Passage: Hebrews 12:4-12

I recently finished reading Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy. The books are set in a dystopian world run by a totalitarian government. The government maintains order over its territories by holding an annual contest called (you guessed it) “the hunger games.” In each territory a lottery is held; two of the territory’s children are selected to compete in the games. And one more thing: the games are a fight to the death.

The books’ main character is a 16-year-old girl who volunteers to compete in the games in her younger sister’s place. She is prepared for the games by the one citizen of her territory who has survived a previous Hunger Games. He is a harsh taskmaster; his young protégé hates him for most of their coaching relationship. But once she’s in the games, she realizes something. Her mentor has never cared whether or not she likes him. What he has cared about is getting her through the games. He has been focused single-mindedly on one thing: saving her life. His harsh methods have served this singular purpose. After the fact, she appreciates her mentor and every expression of his “tough love.”

The author of Hebrews describes a God whose primary concern is this: saving our lives. In the pursuit of this end, God shapes us and strengthens us. God removes excess baggage. God puts us through disciplines that hurt us now, but serve an eternally good purpose. The promise of our faith is not that we will enjoy all of God’s work in our lives while he’s doing it, but rather that there will come a time when we look back and thank him for saving us.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

You Intended it for Evil...

Passage: Genesis 50:15-21

In its treatment of the Doctrine of Providence, the Belgic Confession says this:
We believe that this good God, after he created all things, did not abandon them to chance or fortune but leads and governs them according to his holy will, in such a way that nothing happens in this world without his orderly arrangement.
Yet God is not the author of, nor can he be charged with, the sin that occurs. For his power and goodness are so great and incomprehensible that he arranges and does his work very well and justly even when the devils and wicked men act unjustly. [From Art. 13]

When we are the victims of injustice – when we suffer the effects of human evil – we are quick to conclude that God is simply out of the picture. The only agents at work in the situation are the human evildoers. The problem with this conclusion is that it assumes that there are situations that are beyond God’s control. Circumstances in which God leaves us to face the forces of evil alone. We would have to further deduce that God could again leave us alone at any time.

Isn’t it more comforting to trust that God is at work co-opting the ill-intentioned acts of evildoers (or even the well-intentioned errors of flawed people) to serve his good purposes? Joseph catches a glimpse of God’s hand at work when he looks back on his life. He’s given the gift of seeing the good things God did with the devastating betrayal, humiliating enslavement, and false accusation he endured at the hands of other people. What Joseph never sees is the greater contribution these events make to God’s unfolding redemption of all humanity. Joseph’s story makes this abundantly clear: God is relentless in the execution of his good plans, and no evil deed can stop him. To the contrary, God incorporates the acts of even his greatest adversaries into the greatest triumphs of his grace. Joseph's story is part of the bigger story of God's chosen people. This, in turn, is part of the bigger story of God's promise of a Savior. And this bigger story culminates at the cross.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

They Perish, But You Remain

Passage: Hebrews 1:1-12

The Doctrine of Providence, as presented in Lord’s Day 10, offends our sensibilities. The conviction that our God is in control of, indeed sends, even our lives’ most difficult experiences, confronts us like a slap in the face. The implication is that God willingly hurts us; willingly takes away people and property that we love. This is a hard doctrine to stomach.
When we respond to this doctrine with indignation, however, we fail to account for two things: first, the reality that pain and loss are inescapable in this sad world; second, that God’s goal for each of us is eternal life.

The canvass on which our lives are painted is a broken world in which everything we know and love will be taken from us. It will all, as the author of Hebrews states so poetically, perish. We lose all things but one: God himself.
We proceed through life acquiring stuff: accomplishments; credentials; property; relationships. This stuff, in itself, is good. But none of it is permanent. When any of it is taken away, we rail against an unfair cosmos as though somehow one of our rights has been violated. With our vision obscured by the (albeit good) stuff we’ve been given, we fail to focus on the one thing that matters most; the one thing that can never be taken away.

We belong to a merciful God who refuses to let us be completely blinded by the things of this world. With care and compassion God takes things away – sometimes one at a time; sometimes all at once. When he does it hurts – sometimes so badly we don’t know how we’ll recover. But none of these losses hurts us so much as the loss of one of us hurts God. God will stop at nothing to draw us closer and closer to him. It is when we embrace this that we become willing to relinquish into his hands any of the things that obscure him from view. Everything we call ours will one day perish. Only God remains.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Fit to Be Praised

Passage: Psalm 33

Lord’s Day 9 deals with the “Doctrine of God’s Providence”. The essence of Providence is this: God’s in control of everything; therefore nothing we experience – “good” or “bad” – happens by accident. It all comes to us by God’s hand. If we claim the Bible as God’s authoritative self-revelation (in other words, if we believe what the Bible says about God), then we have to live with this tension: God doesn’t always give us what we want – even though presumably God is perfectly capable of doing so.

So why do we stick with this God? Two reasons: First, for better or worse, he’s God. He’s the creator and ruler of all. The ultimate being in the universe. As the Psalmist says, “Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous. It is fitting for the upright to praise him!” If God is who God claims to be, there’s only one fitting response: praise.
Second, he’s on our side. We don’t have the faculties to comprehend the scope of God’s work and God’s purposes. And we don’t need to – we don’t need to know what God’s doing and why. We only need to know this: that God is a Father whose purpose for each of us is good.

The Psalmist concludes, “…the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine…”
If it feels as though you are in the middle of a famine – a time in which your thirst is unquenched and your hopes unfulfilled – take heart. God will not abandon you to it. God’s eyes are upon you, even now. Find your hope in his unfailing love.