Noah, and Why We Don't Get our Theology from Popular Culture

I’m looking at a pamphlet entitled “Worldly Amusements in the Light of the Scripture: Theatre Going, Dancing, Card Playing, Etc.”  It was published for the annual Synod of my denomination (the Christian Reformed Church in North America) in 1928, and presents a case against Christians engaging in any kind of popular culture or entertainment.  Anticipating a possible “baby-with-the-bathwater” rebuttal, the authors argue the following regarding plays and movies:

“…some of the so-called good plays are more dangerous than the bad, because of the false conceptions of religion and morality which they set forth.  [Also], by attending the theater occasionally one incurs the risk of developing a taste for theater-going.  The whetted appetite will cry for More! More!  Who knows how many inveterate theater-goers have started in their sinful course by viewing the occasional good play!  We believe that the safest course is the way of total abstinence.” 

This was the default position regarding film and television in many corners of the CRCNA as late as the 1970s.  What turned the tide for many households was television broadcasts of Sunday afternoon football and the release of films that were explicitly biblical or evangelistic.  Since then the CRCNA has adopted a far more affirmative stance regarding Christian engagement in culture and the arts, recognizing the redemptive potential in them along with many other human endeavors and disciplines. 

That said, there continues to be healthy debate about how cautious, discerning, and discriminating Christians should be in both their consumption of popular culture and their production thereof.  One of the captions in the aforementioned pamphlet provides a guiding principle we are well-advised to revisit: “Even when our amusements are not spiritually and morally harmful, they should not be allowed to occupy more than a secondary, subordinate place in our life.”  We go the way of our culture when the primary informative voice in our lives is popular culture; when news media, television and film comprise more of our diet than the Bible and the faith formation of the church.  This should go without saying.  But it is neither a foregone conclusion nor guiding principal for many self-professed Christians. 

And it becomes problematic when we encounter any cultural form that makes a statement about God.  There’s an easy way to evaluate the god-statements of popular authors and filmmakers.  You compare them with what God says about himself in the Bible.  You can’t do that if you aren’t familiar with the Bible – not a short list of your favorite verses, but the whole thing, the entire chronicle of God’s redemptive action throughout human history.  It has always been human instinct to create our own versions of God.  Because of this, we either avoid the Bible entirely, or read it very selectively.  We want to cut and paste the parts that present God in our image.  To some extent we all do this – even the most orthodox and well-read preachers and theologians.  No one person’s interpretation of God and God’s word is wholly reliable.  Which is why it is dangerous to base one’s theology solely on the books of Rob Bell, CS Lewis, Joel Osteen or NT Wright; or the TV shows of Mark Burnett; or the films of Darren Aronofsky.  None is God’s word; and each is processed through the fallible filter of one person’s experience. 

So when am I going to get to Noah?  I’m not.  At least not personally.  A lot of Christians have condemned the movie (some without having seen it).  Some have seen fit to defend it.  Of all the reviews I've read, the following, in three parts, has been the most helpful.  The author is Seventh-Day Adventist, so his theology on certain issues diverges from mine; however, his evaluation of the film is thorough.  In addition, his conclusions about the film's theology, and what it says about the church's responsibility in shaping our culture's understanding about God, is invaluable.  If you've seen the movie or plan to do so, take the time to read all three parts of this review.  

Noah,Part 1

Noah,Part 2

Noah,Part 3

Peter, Judas, You and Me

Passage:Luke 22:1-34

The question in our Bible study guide read, “What are the similarities and differences between Peter and Judas?”  At first we thought, Similarities?  The two are nothing alike!  But as we talked we came to realize that Peter and Judas are more alike than different.  Both disciples abandon Jesus when circumstances are at their worst.  Both deny any affiliation with the man who has been their faithful teacher and friend for three years.  Both give up hope that Jesus is the Messiah about whom they’d been so certain.  The only real difference between Judas’ and Peter’s betrayals is that Judas is more honest about his.  Judas sees the end coming and hedges his bets.  Peter is so self-deluded that he believes himself to be a committed follower right up until the moment he’s not. 

The real question should be, “Why is Peter redeemed while Judas is lost?”  There isn’t a clear Sunday school right answer.  The restorative grace of Jesus is unpredictable.  What we do know is this: when it became clear that Jesus was not the kind of Messiah who would storm the capital and claim political and economic ascendancy for his people, Judas found an alternative.  He’d always had a thing for money.  So he replaced Jesus with cold, hard cash.  He would go it alone.  Peter made no such side-bets.  He did deny Jesus.  But he had nothing with which to fill the void Jesus left.  When Jesus arose, Judas was already dead.  He discovered his money couldn’t save him; he had nowhere else to turn.  He wasted no time in ending it all. 

Peter, though despairing and empty, was ready when Jesus came looking for him.  Nothing else had taken up residence in Peter’s heart, so it was there waiting for Jesus to move back in.  

Every human being lives on the fulcrum between hope and despair.  The evidence for both is always in flux.  Faith in Jesus Christ provides a basis for hope that isn’t quite as shifty as the Dow Jones Industrial Average.  But it rarely feels as cold and hard as whatever temporary comfort we can lay our hands on.  The challenge of the life of faith is not to live without doubt.  But during those moments of doubt to resist the urge to reach for some substitute.  To push through the doubt and despair trusting that they are, as Paul puts it, “light and momentary troubles”.  None of us is immune to the denials of Peter or Judas.  But our redemption comes as we endure the dark night and hold out for the dawn of resurrection.  Even if your heart feels empty with despair, don’t fill it with an inadequate substitute.  Your Savior lives. 

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)

Stand Firm

Passage: Luke 21:5-31

Westboro Baptist Church has been all over the news this week following the death of its incendiary founder, Fred Phelps.  Most of the news has focused on Phelps’ legacy of hate- and bigotry-laced religious rants and protests.  But an interesting and somewhat overlooked aspect of Phelps’ theology was his conviction that no member of his congregation would die.  He stated publicly that Jesus would return in his lifetime.  In a recent interview his son admitted that Phelps’ death could spark a crisis of faith for some of his followers.

The topic of the end of the world, and Christ’s return, has been a source of debate since the very beginning of the Christian movement.  Jesus’ disciples anticipated his return within their lifetimes based on what Jesus says in Luke 21. 

Luke 21 records Jesus’ extended statement about some of the things his disciples could expect before his return.  Specifically Jesus points to Herod’s temple in Jerusalem – an astonishing feat of architecture, some of whose stones were as big as a city bus – and declares that not one of its stones will be left on another.  This seemingly immovable emblem of human ability and presumed symbol of God’s presence was going to fall.  Jesus predicts “wars and rumors of wars… great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven.”  He also adds, for his disciples’ benefit:

 But before all this, they will seize you and persecute you. They will hand you over to synagogues and put you in prison, and you will be brought before kings and governors, and all on account of my name.

Life, says Jesus, is going to get worse before it gets better.  How did the disciples keep going, not knowing if or when they would be reunited with their friend and Savior?

They were sustained by the other things Jesus says in this passage.  As the disciples anticipate being brought before hostile courts and crowds of persecutors, Jesus tells them:

…make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves. For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict.

Jesus continues:

But not a hair of your head will perish.  Stand firm, and you will win life.

We know for a fact that most of Jesus’ disciples were martyred.  How could Jesus’ words be true? 

Jesus was talking about his disciples’ new life.  The life they would receive through Jesus’ resurrection and the gift of his Spirit.  Following the torture and crucifixion that took Jesus’ life and marred his body past the point of recognition, Jesus returned to them.  He was the same Jesus; but he had a new body.  His disciples came to understand that this was the “firstfruits of those who had fallen asleep” – that the resurrection of Jesus is a preview of the new life that awaits everyone who belongs to him. 

Jesus could, with complete conviction and integrity, promise his disciples the preservation of their lives because he knew what awaited him, and them.  He knew that his death was a necessary precursor to his resurrection.  And a necessary condition of the resurrection life he offers all those who are in him.

One of the components of the prayer Jesus taught is “Your kingdom come…”  We pray it without taking into account all the things Jesus teaches about what must precede the arrival of his Kingdom.  Temples must be destroyed.  Cities brought low.  Empires fall.  Those of us who profess his name will do so under duress.  Our own earthly lives must come to an end.

We do well to take in his promises.  First, that Jesus himself will journey with us and give us everything we need to remain faithful.  We need not fear that, when push comes to shove, we might let him go.  Because he will not let us go.  He will never let you go.

Second, that in a very real way not a hair can fall from the head of your resurrection body.  As Paul puts it in Colossians 3, “(Your) life is hidden with Christ in God.”  The resurrection life that Jesus offers each of us is untouchable, and awaits us as surely as we await his inevitable return.  Stand firm. 

Pray

Friends,
Our congregation is in the middle of a series on prayer.  As we've explored Jesus' teaching about prayer in Luke's gospel, we've recognized his imperative to shift focus away from our own needs and desires ("...the pagans run after such things, and your Father knows you need them!") to the desires and purposes of God.
Here's a re-post from a fellow church leader and blogger regarding the precarious position of a group of sisters and brothers in Christ in North Korea.  Please read it.  And pray...

http://loristanleyroeleveld.blogspot.ca/2014/03/theyll-be-dead-by-morning-what.html

Monuments

Passage: Luke19:45-48

Each of the four New Testament Gospels includes the account of “Jesus cleansing the temple.”  In each, Jesus arrives in Jerusalem, enters the outer (or “Gentile”) court of the temple, and begins to drive out and overturn the tables of “the money changers and those who were buying and selling”.  Why does Jesus make such a scene?

Jesus clears the temple.  Why?

According to Jesus’ own words, “It is written, ‘My house will be a house of prayer’; but you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’”

What’s Jesus talking about?

For the history of God’s chosen people, God has allowed them select monuments, or physical reminders of his presence with them.  During their sojourn in the wilderness, God instructed the Israelites to periodically build altars, and provided them the tabernacle, a portable worship space.  Once they were well-established in their own country, God blessed his people to build a permanent place of worship.  It was always termed “God’s house”; and God’s people were under strict instructions to confine their sacrifices and offerings to this space.  They at times took this to mean that the temple was the only place on earth God could be found.  God dispels this notion through the Old Testament prophets, including Jeremiah who declares that God will be found by the exiles in Babylon (Jeremiah 29:10-14). 

That being said, the temple was always intended to be a monument to God’s presence, grace and glory.  This changed in 20 BC when Herod the Great, king of Judea, replaced the broken-down “second temple” the Israelites built after they returned from the exile.  Herod was a puppet king for the Romans.  He was a power- and fame-hungry politician who placated the seditious Jews by building them a brand-new temple.  Herod’s temple was one of the most impressive construction projects in the known world at the time.  And it was nothing if not a monument to Herod’s reign and achievement.  It was also a source of great pride for the Jews of Jesus’ day.

The temple was the center of religious life in Jerusalem; but it also became a hub of commercial activity.  Jews came from the known world to worship there.  Those coming from a distance purchased animals for sacrifice and religious artifacts and souvenirs.  A brisk business was also made by money changers.  The currency of the Roman Empire was considered unclean and therefore unfit to be offered in the temple.  Worshipers could exchange this for temple currency.  But there was a hitch: those who handled the Roman currency were also considered unclean.  The money-changing system in the temple by design forced some people to remain perpetually unclean for the sake of those who sought to enter the temple with pure hands. Those who benefitted from the money-changers' services maintained their own purity while reviling those who enabled them to stay clean.  

This is what Jesus barges into the day he cleanses the temple.  A place intended to be a monument to the glory of God. That has become instead a monument to human greed.  A place intended to be the gateway to God’s grace.  That has instead become an unjust barrier to those forever left on the margins.  Jesus’ rage is the rage of a protective parent; a jealous lover. 

In two of his letters the Apostle Paul declares:

“…your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20);

And,

“…I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.” (Romans 12:1)

Jesus is Immanuel – “God with us”.  He replaces the temple building with the church – human beings in whom his own Spirit has take residence.  Countless God-meeting places spread around the world.   Temples of the Holy Spirit; living sacrifices; we become individual and collective monuments. 

As people claiming to be Christ's disciples and the new people of God, we have to ask ourselves: to whom/what are we monuments?  Our temptation, in a celebrity-making world, is to invest in our own reputations, careers, profiles and portfolios -- to be monuments to our own greatness and glory.  Jesus mourns over Jerusalem and the destruction that will befall its temple in AD 70.  That event stands as a stark declaration: any monument to anything other than God’s grace and glory will fall. 

Let your life be a monument.  Let it be not a fleeting monument to your greatness, but an eternal monument to God’s glory. 

Unjust Judges

Passage: Luke 18:1-14

At first glance Jesus’ parables of “The Persistent Widow” and “The Pharisee and the Tax Collector” seem very different.  In fact, they’re different angles on the same story.

In the first parable, a widow appeals to her local magistrate.  The law is on her side.  Some adversary has co-opted her land – land that has been in her family since God parceled out the Promised Land by family after the Exodus.  God’s Law has always maintained provisions for poor or marginalized members of his people to recover the land God himself gave as an inheritance.  However, in first century Palestine, judges have absolute power.  They determine how the law will be applied and whose case has the most merit.  As such, they are highly susceptible to bribery.  How easy for any judge to rule in favor of the highest bidder.  No one outside his chambers will be the wiser as no one but the plaintiff, defendant, and judge know the details of the case. 

In Jesus’ story, the judge – a human representative of God’s justice – respects neither people nor God.  The widow – a person without economic or social capital – appeals to this judge on the basis of justice, a principle for which he has no regard.  She doesn’t have the money or influence to appeal to his self-interest.  She is at the mercy of a human representative of a God-given mandate.  And the human representative is corrupt.  Jesus concludes the parable by saying that, although the human intermediary is corrupt, God’s principle, justice (that is, “making life right”) will prevail.  God always has his way.

The setting of the second parable is a temple rather than a courtroom.  However, there are two parties acting as prosecutor and defendant: a Pharisee and a tax collector.  The Pharisee stands self-righteous and self-justified before God.  Even though he addresses God, he has no real regard for God.  Luke goes so far as to say he prays to himself.  The Pharisee concludes by saying, “Thank you, God, that I’m not like that tax collector.”  He has set himself up as judge – co-opting God’s rightful role, and attempting to stand between his fellow human being and God’s justice.  The Pharisee has adopted the role of accuser (the official designation given to Satan, God’s adversary). 

The tax collector offers no argument in his own defense.  He appeals directly to God and says, simply, “Have mercy on me.”  Jesus concludes that of the two, this man – the sinner – leaves justified before God.  Again, there’s a human intermediary who has abused his role and acted as an unjust judge.  And again, it is God himself who bypasses the unjust judge in order to rule in favor of the helpless and vulnerable.

The lessons for us are twofold.  First, Jesus is the perfect representative who allows us to appeal directly to God.  In Jesus God accomplishes the cause of justice – that is, the righting of everything that’s gone wrong in our lives and in our world.  And God hears our case when we appeal not on the basis of our merit, but his mercy.  Second, Jesus warns all of his people against setting ourselves up as judges.  We all too eagerly co-opt the role of accuser – taking it upon ourselves to decide who can and cannot appeal to God’s grace.  Jesus appoints his disciples as gatekeepers (Matthew 16:19).  But he makes it clear that their/our role is to hold the gates open, in contrast to the Pharisees who kept them locked tight.  This is reinforced by Luke, who follows these two parables with the account of Jesus welcoming little children and rebuking his disciples for keeping them away.  Here Jesus says, both, “Come to me like little children (free of pretense and self-justification)” and, “Let the little children (and, presumably, those who approach with child-like faith) come to me.” 

Fight the urge to be an unjust judge.  And approach God without fear and without a defense.   Trust that he has put in place the perfect judge, Jesus Christ, who upholds the cause of justice and has already paid your penalty in full.  

Rich?

On successive Sunday's I'm preaching on Luke's account of the Rich Ruler and Jesus' meeting with Zacchaeus.  Each story presents a different facet of the role of material wealth in the Kingdom of God.  In last week's sermon on the Rich Ruler (audio available here), I cited a New York Times op. ed. by former hedge-fund trader named Sam Polk.  It's posted here, and is worth reading if you have the time.