When I find discouragement I like to turn to some favorite scriptures and one particular Christian musician. That artist is Michael Card. His music is theologically and biblical reflective (i.e., based soundly on good exegesis and theological reflection), and as well, the words of his songs reflect biblical realism and irony. Recently I was told I was being censured for implying a book of the bible helps us imagine what the church ought to be it like. This was the reason given as to why I was not being asked anymore to preach. (Besides being a kind of strange criticism over how I interpreted, I was surprised at the silliness of the criticism itself and lack of unawareness of the power of both the bible and our God-given imagination. More strangely, the previous Sunday worship closed with the Mercy Me song, “I can only imagine.” Now, that’s funny.) Needless to say, I find myself again in a place where my abilities and gifts will be under utilized. I suspect a deeper issue at hand however, which I know God will reveal and solve. I wander… So I turned to my thoughts on God’s grace and ironies, which led me to listening to Michael Card songs. He has the amazing ability to be biblically sound and insightful through his songs. In particular, I turned to a song called the “Prophet.” Although the song itself was soothing and reminds me of the criticisms leveled at biblical prophets (of which I am not, nor even slightly comparable), it was noticing the title on the album itself that caught my attention and ministered to my soul. The album title, The Word: Recapturing the Imagination
. Michael Card is right on when he refers to the imagination in speaking about the power of the Word.
I remember when I was a young Christian and new to the ministry. I spent so much time calculating and trying to figure out how to get people to be, well, more Christian. In hindsight I realize now—although somewhat excusable because I was immature and young—my preaching was more law than grace, more reflective of the taskmaster than of the humble Christ and His good-news. I thought I was being bold and prophetic, a straight-shooter, plain and to the point. All I was being was prideful and arrogant, calculating and manipulative—and young. I wasn’t allowing grace to mold people’s lives, but drawing people to respond to law.
Over the years, especially now that I have spent time in exile among the unbelievers in the secular-world of employment rather than in full time Christian vocational church ministry, I find non-churched and non-believers can’t hear us very well…that is, can’t hear our God-talk, especially from preachers who wave and thumb their bibles (which regretably I was), but offer only their own agendas and opinions. Plus, we live in an image-based world where outsiders to the church (and even insiders in the church) have imaginations that have been molded by everything modern and consumeric. Although exiled in the secular wilderness, I have kept up my study, reading, and even exegetical skills. But now I do so within the context of a world that does not readily accept our Christian premises, especially the one that says “the Bible is the Word of God.” They don’t buy it.
This is the context in which I have been thinking about how the Bible itself presents itself. I have been charged as being too academic, too cerebral, too scholarly for the average person. And that’s why I find it amusing that my use of the imagination as a hearing tool was frowned upon. Isn’t that why we use illustration anyway—to help us imagine the truth of the Scripture, to hear it more clearly? But it’s more than that. It is more than just our use of illustration or personal stories that are to provoke our imaginations (and hopefully our obedience). I use to think the long theological sections in the New Testament Letters were, well, to build the theological basis for the so-called practical sections of the Letters. I was wrong. The New Testament authors reflected on the act of God in Christ and presented a picture of how the world, the church, and the Christian are to be. This is especially true for the writers of the Gospels. Through theological reflection on God’s redemptive work in Christ, the writers craft their words, narrative, and arguments so we can imagine how the world, the church, and the Christian life should be, ought to be. This smacks more of grace and gift than law and rote and mental assent—and forced and manipulated obedience. Of course sometimes there is warning, rebuke, and prophetic causality within the words and thus should be reflected in what the preacher/interpretation helps the listener to imagine (to hear). Sometimes the words are harsh and provoke serious imagination that should provoke repentance and straightaway obedience. But the use of the imagination helps keep it grace, rather than law. Such an approach offers the listener (i.e., the Christian or non-Christian) the world as God wants it, as His redemptive activities in Christ has begun, and presents it as gift to be received and entered into.
With the world presenting its message upon our imagination, we desperately need the Word to provoke our imagination with revelation of God’s grace and creative work. May every preacher so desire to offer the Word as a means of recapturing our imagination, and thus beckon us to enter into God’s grace.
Sanctification and spiritual growth is about…
We don’t hear these concepts much any more: “the old man” and “the new man.” For most of my Christian life, until recently, these two phrases were descriptions used to describe the old way of life as a sinner and the new way of life as a Christian. More specifically, when the appeal was made to Christians—not so much to unbelievers—to be sanctified, the old man was the reference to their “old, but currently active” sinful nature that continued to be in affect even after being born again. “Put off the old man” was equivalent to “Crucify your sinful nature” and/or simply “repent and put away sinful actions.” Here I don’t want to debate whether the Biblical term “the old man” is rightly or wrongly translated to mean “the sinful nature in a Christian” or not (but I will hint at what I think), but to reflect here on how these two biblical concepts help in moving us toward a more sustainable sanctification.
Sanctification, like all elements of the redemptive and spiritual life experienced through God’s action in Christ Jesus, are eschatological. Eschatology is usually understood in its popular form as being about the future, the end times, the last days. While this is true, this is only one aspect of it. Eschatology is, of course, the “study of last things,” but the “last things” stretch over from one redemptive act to the next—in this case the redemptive act of the birth/cross/resurrection of Jesus to the redemptive act of His second coming. Although I do include the coming of the Spirit as the fourth component of the last redemptive act—i.e., the birth/cross/resurrection of Jesus and the coming of the spirit—it functions also as the event that seals (or gives a down-payment of) the guaranteed fulfillment of God’s eschatological promises in Christ, presents itself as the first fruits of those promises, and as well, applies and makes real the promises in Christ in this redemptive era. The fulfillment is still pending, but it is realized now through the presence and activities of the Holy Spirit. This is what is often referred to as “the already, but not yet.” So I attribute this breath of meaning to the concept of eschatology. Thus, eschatological then means part of God’s redemptive activity in history, including the present time, whereby He brings about His promises, particularly the promises of His coming rule and reign over creation.
Applying an eschatological framework (which is the biblical framework) to sanctification then helps us to see santification as an “already, but not yet.” Understanding this will help us to understand and even experience it rightly. So as I reflect on sanctification, I am reminded that sanctification is not a point in time, but a journey of realizing (experiencing) the fullness of the promises of Christ and the actualization (Spirit generated) of the life of Christ in and through the believer. So, when we model a point in time sanctification, filling, or break-through through a Christian event or spiritually high moment or activity, we are actually working contrary to the work of the Spirit and as a result, does not ultimately produce sustainable sanctification for the believer.
No better way of conceptualizing this than with the two concepts “the old man” and “the new man.” To be continued…
My girl friend from college was staying with her sister and brother in law for the weekend. She was on an assignment for her course in child psychology. Her project: Observe how little children interpret the world around them.
One of the observations was unplanned. Her four year old nephew, Ben, unashamedly opened the bathroom door and entered, to the surprise of his aunt. Although a bit startled, his aunt was able to use the occasion to help Ben understand the concept of privacy.
“Ben, when people close the door, that means they would like to have their privacy.” Ben acknowledged his aunt’s instruction and went his way. The issue seemed to be settled.
Later that afternoon, Ben’s mother noticed his bedroom door closed. That was a bit unusual, she thought. She proceeded to open it to check on her son.
“Ben, are you all right?” she asked in a tone of concern.
Ben looked up and in a matter of fact voice said, “Mom, I closed my door because I want my own private city.”
That serendipity is as instructive as it is winsome. It is both appropriate and polite to respect another’s privacy. But there comes a time in a culture when the concept of privacy can hinder the equally appropriate sense of community. It can stifle cooperative participation in the responsibilities of the community. Attitudes such as my world, my choice eventually produce the pursuit of personal fulfillment. Like young Ben, people today seem to crave their own private city.
From the first chapter of my layman’s commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Philippians,
Destroying Our Private Cities, Building Our Spiritual Life
. Here’s a free downloadable (pdf) file, “
Putting Jesus Back into Our Potential.”
“Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.” ~ Aldous Huxley
Sanctification and spiritual growth is about…
Os Guinness once said, “The kingdom of God is all about space: over what space and in what sphere is Jesus’ Lordship allowed?” I am sure I am paraphrasing his quote, but that’s the gist of it, and it’s pretty good. My contention has been that we have limited sanctification to the private sphere, to the emotional or psychological realm, and to the designs of the one’s appeal for such sanctification moments in others. Guinness reminds us that Christ’s Lordship has no such limits. A full volume would be necessary to highlight and list all the things the Lordship of Christ consists of…but that list in and of itself would be limiting. So, general principles and ideas would be best. Here, I’d like to highlight some general ideas and principles based on, Matthew 6-7. Interspersed I will reflect on what it is we should be appealing to when we ask others to become more sanctified, so they too may be better and more faithful followers of Jesus Christ.
I begin with the well known verse from Matthew 6:33
“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
This gives us at least a starting place that most find familiar. I also assume one understands that seeking His kingdom and submitting to His Lordship are the same thing.
We need to pay attention to what precedes this call to obedience: When Jesus tells us that His followers are not to call attention to their “acts of righteousness” (meaning helping the needy), this negative command implies that His followers are giving and assisting the needy, but they’re calling attention to it. They are show-boating their righteousness. I then assume that “seeking His kingdom” (submitting to the Lordship of Christ) has something to do with our righteous public acts, especially those which seek to care and assist the needy.
The same is implied in the negative commands to refrain from showing off one’s spirituality through prayer or boasting, or sounding spiritual because of personal prayer and fasting. Parading and telling others of their private, pious acts, not only negates their value before God, but betrays a shallow, immature, perhaps even prideful spirituality, which is actually not spirituality at all. The negative command implies that His followers pray and fast—that’s a given. How we utilize our resources and treasures (income and assets) are to align with kingdom values. And, we are to show His Lordship, the seeking of the Kingdom by not being a people of possessions. If we use them to highlight our authority, or personal spirituality, or just for spiritual-one-upmanship, this is a wrong use of prayer, fasting, and treasure. It can be subtle, sneaking in how much we pray, of that we fast, or that we use our treasure “for Jesus,” but then we actually show that we have not the interests of the kingdom, nor our we submitting to the Lordship of Christ.
How about not judging (Matt 7) others? This is an interesting place to help us define Christ’s Lordship. When we measure others—no matter that measurement whether it be economic, lifestyle, spirituality, pet-sins and pet-peeves, we place ourselves at the least as self-righteous and at the most as god in light of others. This is why modeling Christ and discipleship are the best means of helping people grow into becoming faithful followers of Christ. Additionally, that’s why calling people into the world as the Bible see it through the preached, declared, or explained Word keeps us from boasting of ourselves. Even Jesus explains that the marks of the kingdom are not to be confused with the spiritualized words of preachers, the casting out of demons, and the performance of miracles.
Again, this is another reason I believe that our appeal to have others become more faithful followers of Christ (call it the filling, baptism, a breakthrough, submission, repentance, etc.) is not to be the result of highly specialized and emotion-filled Christian events, and especially not the miraculous, for such can replace and even negate the power of the Word and the work of the Spirit. Such approaches can easily degenerate into parading self-righteousness and promoting human authority (“Hey, look at me—I am more spiritual and God has worked in my life so I have the authority to tell you have to live”). The Kingdom is found in and through acting upon the Words of Christ. His kingdom is about God’s righteousness, not about our own.
Now this puts a different spin on sustainable sanctification. We rarely read or even hear preached that Matthew 6 and 7 is directed to Church leadership, toward those seeking to claim the authority over other people’s lives, to those who appeal to others to be sanctified. Although certainly there is enough in the text to indicate what the Christian life should look like, the Sermon on the Mount actually addresses those who seek to have power over others and how they lead them. The Sermon on the Mount speaks to those who claim the call or right to make the appeal to others to become sanctified.
If we want others to experience sustainable sanctification, how we appeal to them matters. We are calling them into further obedience to the Lordship of Christ, not into our definition of the Christ-life, nor are we calling them to model our self-righteousness. It is a continued openness to the Lordship of Christ (that’s why it’s a journey). They see it modeled humbly in their leaders and they hear it preached and explained through the Word. And when we do call others into sanctification, we need to explain that it entails an openness to Christ’s Lordship. And His Lordship is a pursuit of His kingdom and His righteousness, which involves (on the positive side) righteously living in the public square and (on the negative side) refraining from promoting one’s own righteousness.
Next...an awareness of the tension between the “old man” and the “new man”
Sanctification and spiritual growth is about…
If a person outside the church, one unfamiliar with the Christian faith listened carefully to those appealing to church-people to repent, give-up u-v-and-w, commit more to x-y- and-z, or turn from such and such behavior toward another most desired by church-leadership behavior, I wonder what that listening outsider would think the deeper, more obedient Christian life looks like? Rather than be specific here, I’d guarantee that the deeper, more sanctified life would consist (to the outsider) of certain private behaviors conforming to the likes and dislikes, the comfort levels, and the expectations of church leadership. Not all of this is bad—don’t misunderstand me. We have lots to change to be more real and better followers of Jesus. However, I would venture to say that the outside person would also see that such sanctification is measured by how much the (newly or more) “sanctified” person has submitted to Jesus which consists of how much is given to the church, how much more time is spent on church calendar events and activities, how many more church-centered activities are volunteered for, and by how much more time they’ve committed to prayer. (I’d have included Bible reading and personal Bible Study, but these seem a dying activity, nor encouraged that much among Christians toaday—heaven forbid the people in the pew discover meanings, even the true meanings of the texts of Scripture, that would put them at odds with the leaders of the church!) I even betcha that some outsiders would say that the appeal to sanctification within these limits and expectations is also a way of exercising power over people—the people in their congregations. (Sanctification as management—what a concept!) Not to unleash them, but to round up volunteers. And finally, this appeal to sanctification within these limits and expectations helps everyone to look and act the same—I guess it is easier to shepherd if all the sheep behave and move in the same direction and enjoy watering and grazing in the same field and same place.
Now, of course I am being somewhat sarcastic and maybe even stretching the good intentions of those who want others to grow in Christ, but I am still somewhat serious. Remember, although this reflection is about sanctification, it is really about why we want “others” sanctified and how we get “them” that way. Is it a point in time, or a journey with many advances and setbacks and learning experienced, etc.?
Now I’d like to turn my attention to, “What does a sanctified life look like?” Or “How do we know it when someone is sanctified, filled, baptized in the Spirit, or has moved forward in their Christian growth?” Up-front, there is no argument that a wholesome, good lifestyle is a result of sanctification, but I’d say that its both not a beginning nor an end. Of course there will be things harmful to us and sinful in nature in and of themselves that need to be dumped as a result of the sanctified life. But this is only the small portion of the Christ-like life. And maybe even a distraction from a real biblical sanctified life. (And that’s another point: sanctified first or dumped behaviors first? If dumped is first, that seems that its our effort that brings the second, more works centered. That’s why I believe that the Bible calls us through the Spirit and our imagination into the grace and life God has for us as gift, not works.)
In fact if one simply needs to highlight the instructions, illustrations, teachings, emphases, and applications called for in the preaching of Jesus and it would be noticed that good behavior is even hardly mentioned. There is more calls to righteousness (which means right relationships with all those around us) and justice (which means applying righteousness publicly) and to care for the least and weakest among us. This is why I believe that sustainable sanctification must be related to our openness to the Lordship of Christ. And, the Lordship of Christ is something that is not just for the private life, but for our public square life.
Imagine someone explaining that they had a major breakthrough in their Christian life and it resulted in giving more to the poor, or helping immigrants to learn English and get a job, or help men and women with addictions to overcome them for their sake and the sake of their families. Imagine. More so, we’d rather know if they’ve given up porn, or swearing, or smokes, or sleeping in, and certain uncomfortable emotions.
The point in time sanctification method not only truncates the work of the Spirit into one neat package—one moment—it also diminishes and limits the outcomes. How can someone grow in their walk with Christ if they will need to replenish, re-inject, and re-experience that Christian high or Christian event that got them to that point of surrender? They will be too busy looking for that high again and again. Plus, I’d even further suggest such methods of getting Christians sanctified will make them more self-centered, not less. And there goes righteousness right out the window.
As mature Christians we should constantly help others understand what the Lordship of Christ is and over what spheres of life it reigns (ought to reign), and then how to continually be open to that Lordship.
Next…over what is Jesus to be Lord and being open to it…
Sanctification and spiritual growth is about…
I know I am not proof-texting everything I am musing about regarding sanctification. I am just that—musing, reflecting, and presenting my steam of consciousness. But to begin this reflection, I need to summarize by putting forth my
biblical-theological statement on the whole bible—that’s right, all the various documents contained in our 66 books of the Bible.
The Bible is about the coming of God into human history through His Messiah-King-Son, actualized (realized) through the Holy Spirit in order to make known and establish His righteous rule and reign over all creation.
Don’t think I left out the person of Jesus (that’s the “Son” part), nor redemption or the cross (that’s the “Messiah” part), nor the Lordship of Christ (that’s the “King” part). This summary is important as I finish off the idea of Journey being at the heart of sanctification. If sanctification is the work of the Holy Spirit and the actualizing of Christ in one’s life, then my biblical-theological statement about the whole of revealed scripture, i.e., the Bible, needs to be considered.
First, the coming of God: This is what I mean by “a journey of allowing God to invade” one’s life. This is important on two levels—one, as we journey, we are allowing (that’s the human-side) God to coming into our lives, to invade our lives; second, God doesn’t always come as invited, nor is He dependent on any human effort (that’s the divine-side). On the one hand, we learn through experience, being discipled, through sermons, messages, bible studies, or just plan life itself the things we need to change or work on to be better, more obedience followers of Jesus Christ. On this level, as we choose to be obedient, we allow God to invade our life to make the changes, to submit to His Lordship. This happens all the time, but not so much as a result of a moment in time, but as a journey, maybe even over long periods of submission and taking it back and trying again. (This is why discipleship is so important, by the way!) Again, getting caught up in a Christian experience or some form of Christian excitement, might be a part of the journey, but it’s not that point in time (usually). And when it is the result of such, once the high of the experience (and the endorphins and emotions) wear off, there needs to be a next day of intentional, willful obedience to what we have allowed God to invade.
On another level, we can’t control God and He “comes” when He wants. God does not always invade by permission. (Like I said, this is most definitely the divine part.) This aspect is one reason why I believe we should not second-guess why someone struggles, or even delays obedience, for we don’t know what God is doing apart from human effort in and/or around, or even through the one we want to be growing. Now, this doesn’t mean we, as more mature Christians, don’t encourage, warn, stimulate, even provoke in order to help that growth in someone else; but more often than not, there needs to be patience, a puling alongside, and most importantly, modeling on our part…remember, we’ve already gotten to the place where we “know better” and it took God a while getting us there in the first place. (Again, sarcasm implied.) This invasion of God apart from human effort or apart from personal invitation also means, as C.S. Lewis once put it, that God could very well be coming in and knocking down walls and throwing out the furniture. I will also note, the invasion doesn’t always lead to obedience on the part of the one needing to grow. We can see this even in biblical material. Even at His final appearance we are told there will be rebellion. Hopefully, ultimately it will produce obedience in the believer.
It seems reasonable and biblical to view sanctification as a process, a journey of allowing God’s invasion in our lives—sometimes invited and sometimes not. This is why I am doubtful of the moment-in-time approaches to sanctification (or call it as you will—filling, breakthrough, even baptism of the Spirit).
Second, continued openness to His Lordship…next Margin…
He who oppresses the poor taunts his Maker,
But he who is gracious to the needy honors Him.
~Proverbs 14:31
I am still considering the concept of justice and its relationship to the poor. Here in Proverbs I see a Hebrew parallelism that helps me under that exploiting (i.e., the underlying meaning of “oppress” here) the poor, not only dishonor’s God, but actually taunts Him. And “oppressing” (i.e., exploiting, mistreating, doing harm) the poor has as its opposite, being “gracious” (“kind” or “mercy” as other translations have it) to the poor. In hearing that the ones oppressing the poor actually “taunt” God, we can remember that God has said that if we do not heed the cries of the orphan, widow, foreigner, and needy among us, He will intervene on their behalf. This is perhaps why it is a taunt—we taunt God to hear their cries rather than to respond as individuals and as a community to the needs of the poor.
In Ezekiel we see also that oppression is related to justice (22:29).
“The people of the land have practiced oppression and committed robbery, and they have wronged the poor and needy and have oppressed the sojourner without justice.”
Interestingly enough, it is the “people of the land” who oppress the poor and needy. For this smacks right in the face of God’s design for communities to make sure that the landless have a stake in the land, and are to be treated as if “landed” (cf. Deuteronomy 15 and 24). The king reminds us again in the Proverbs, “The righteous care about justice for the poor, but the wicked have no such concern” (29:7). It seems to me that, once again, we are called to heed God’s design for community, which implies that institutions within the public square as well as individuals ought to practice righteousness that promotes kindness to the poor. Justice for the poor isn’t just about making sure the “scales” are fair, but that there are community structures in place to care and assist them.
"Mary’s Song” by Lucy Shaw~
Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star
fallen to my arms. (Rest…
you who have had so far
to come.) Now nearness satisfies
the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
whose vigor hurled
a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world.
Charmed by dove’s voices, the whisper of straw,
he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed
who overflowed all skies,
all years.
Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught that I might be free,
blind in my womb to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth
for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.
We underestimate our unbelieving neighbors and friends. We dismiss the possibility that, in their own way, they might actually be seriously seeking answers—ultimate answers about life, faith, and death. Often, it is our particular version of Christianity that is rejected or held in suspicion.
Christian sociologist Os Guinness writes that to the believer Christianity “was once life’s central mystery, its worship life’s most awesome experience, its faith life’s broadest canopy of meaning...” But, today, he laments, no matter how passionate or committed an individual believer may be, Christianity often amounts to little more than a private preference, a spare time hobby.
This modern version of Christianity is significant when we consider how non-believers view Christianity. For serious seekers, such spare-time faith is not a solution to their deepest needs. Christianity must be more than a cozy warm blanket, something more ultimate to raise one up above one’s needs.
Amid the glad tidings often associated with the Christmas story is an oft-missed dose of “reality” etched into biblical scene. Along with shouts of exultation from shepherds, homage from wise men, angels praising God, there is another voice:
“a voice heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children…refusing to be consoled, because [her children] were no more” (Matt 2:18).
These are strange words coming in the midst of this joyous occasion. Yet, they are a reminder that lament and despair grip the human experience.
The first time we meet Rachel is that delightful moment when she thought she would be marrying the love of her life, the OT patriarch Jacob. But the story turns quickly to despair: Her father tricks Jacob into marrying Leah, her older sister, first. Then to make matters worse, Leah has eight sons as Rachel remained childless and we hear her weigh the depths of her barrenness. God eventually takes Rachel’s reproach away by giving her a son, Joseph, Israel’s future deliverer. But, while giving birth to her second son she hears news that Joseph, her first-born, had been murdered. Then we learn that “Rachel began to give birth and had great difficulty” and reflecting on her anguish, she names her new son “trouble” (Benjamin) and dies and is buried by the roadside on the way to Bethlehem. The roots, as well as the original Christmas story, is surrounded by the swing between gladness and suffering, between hope and despair. The realities of life.
The original Christmas narrative—the one that is inspired and finds a place in Scriptures—forces the reader back to the Rachel story, compelling us to include lament in the Christmas story. Certainly the Gospel writer wants us to know that God has sent his Son to be the deliverer of all mankind, the ultimate Jospeh. Yet, Rachel and her cry seep into the first Christmas story. We need to know that despite joyous strains elsewhere, some refuse to be comforted except by God’s own intervention.
The Gospel story is pictured in Rachel’s cry, that is, of God’s Son ending up on a cross, rejected, and dying the cruelest of deaths. The reality of life, its pain and often unfairness, demand that one must turn to the God of Golgotha, who alone can provide the relief, the comfort, not simply mere sentimentalism or a “spare-time” religious experiences. No other hope other than God’s work in Christ can penetrate our deepest hurts or pierce our loneliest moments, or lift us above our needs. Amid the tinsel and cheerfully wrapped presents, let us remember Christ’s birth wasn’t to increase retail, but to bring good news that would meet the deepest needs of the human experience. Our unbelieving, skeptical friends and neighbors deserve no less. And in this, they might find the real Christianity, and the hope they long for.
“But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.
“When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, ‘Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us.’ So they came in a hurry and found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger. When they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this Child. And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds (Luke 2:10-18).
Along with being way too familiar with the Christmas story, we are also way too use to the Christmas story as we celebrate it—our own seasonal habits. We are now accustomed to juxtaposing the revealed story with the commercialism, tinsel, and lights of a holiday season made for our economy rather than our souls. Although America can still boast of a vast population of believers, society as a whole would prefer that we keep our “religion” and Jesus out of the public life—out of school boards, out of government, out of the bedroom, etc. But not out of the major retail season of the year. Even when they attempted to take the word “Christmas” out of the stores, they kept the “spirit,” the Christmas-grin from the invisible Christmas-Cheshire cat. They want just enough belief to treasure the concepts and images of a virgin birth, angelic choirs, and that baby in swaddling cloths in a manger to make sure people are inspired to buy, buy, buy. In an article entitled, “The History of Christmas,” G. K. Chesterton describes how it is that modern man has exchanged the wonder of the Christmas story for commercialism:
“Moving step by step, in the majestic march of Progress, we have first vulgarised Christmas and then denounced it as vulgar. Christmas has become too commercial; so many of these thinkers would destroy the Christmas that has been spoiled and preserve the commercialism that has spoiled it.”
We are in danger of exchanging the wonder and worship for comercialism
Luke 2, part 1...
“In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened” (Luke 2:8-9)
Sometimes, translations like to mask the bluntness of the original. Sometimes our English versions attempt to tame it. But, not here. Almost every version—even the paraphrases—leaves this text as it should be, blunt. These shepherds were frightened, afraid, and as the Greek indicates, “They feared a great fear.” I don’t imagine a bunch of skinny, youngsters, mulling around the hillsides, quaint staffs in hand, warming their hands over an open fire. These were shepherds, men ready to fight off wolves, lions, and bears. The text doesn’t say they were startled, or caught by surprise, or even wow-ed. They saw the Angel of the Lord, and the response: these men “feared a great fear.”
I don’t know about you, but I would have been afraid to say the least, and I am hardly a burly shepherd. We know the Christmas story all too well. Our version is tame, cute, winsome, merry. I call our version the Hallmark Card story of Christmas. It was going to take a lot to alleviate these shepherds’ state of being afraid. The Angel knew: They needed a sign. Something big. Something bigger than their fear itself.
“This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
You have to be kidding! There is a puzzle to the real Christmas story, a riddle, even some perplexity. The contrast is staggering. The burly Shepherds are to be relieved of their initial fear of the appearance of the Angel of the Lord by a baby lying in a trough in some barn in Bethlehem. Now that’s amazing. That’s how the original Christmas story is introduced. No tinsel or cute cherubs. No warm living room with presents under a decorated tree. No wonderful Christmas concert or pageant. We’ve come a long way in presenting the Christmas story, in taming it and relieving it of its mystery (its puzzle and irony, its realness). That’s not a good thing.
Sanctification and spiritual growth is about…
- The journey of allowing God to invade one’s life
I heard it once said (probably by a missionary) that Filipinos call Americans, “Those with gods on their wrists.” Our fascination, unhealthy dependence, and sometimes total surrender to time can mess things up, especially when it comes to our spiritual lives. This, I believe colors and influences how we view sanctification (or surrender, submission, the filling, the breakthrough, etc.) and our walk with Christ. I am not so concerned here about my sanctification or your sanctification, but how we view the sanctification of others, as onlookers as it were. That is, because we are subjects of Time, we want others to hurry up and get it over with…get that filling now, surrender now, it has to happen now! Of course decisions have to be made—in a moment of time, at a certain time…but that decision is part of a process and even that decision might be one of many over time and through the journey.
I have seen, too often, a crisis or decision is made (because of a spiritual event or a dynamic speaker or, heaven forbid, a miracle-worker) and the “spiritual feelings” aroused are confused for the high of the event and the endorphins being kicked off. Problem is—these feelings wear off. And then we’re left with only willful, intentional submission and obedience to the Lordship of Christ. And that’s a matter of practice and the journey. Over and over again.
Now of course, I believe that we make such submission, not on our own power, but through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. But this makes it no less a willful submission and journey—and making that decision over and over again.
Now as for us who are on-lookers, we want “others” to get on with it—that is the obedience part. Perhaps out of sincerity, for their own good and relationship with Christ; but, more often than admitted, we’re just impatience, unwilling to be long-suffering along side those whom are not as close to God as we are, and uncomfortable with how others behave. Of course I’d prefer everyone who calls themselves Christian to walk and talk and do what is right for Christians to do. But then, I am not God and I can’t see what God is doing inside and around that person. True, it is the responsibility of those who aren’t walking in a way that is right to repent and be obedient; but it is our job—our ministry—to disciple, encourage, model, and be patient as others grow in Christ. The idea of sanctification being a moment in time might actually work against long-term, sustainable sanctification.
It seems to me sanctification is about the journey one is on with Christ (sometimes forgotten, sometimes even resisted). And, as onlookers we need to be encouraging, sometimes strongly so, but always lovingly. I have seen over the course of almost thirty years of being a Christian, too many Christians, especially young ones (not in age, but in length of time and/or maturity in Christ), wash out because the “moment in time” sanctification didn’t work. There are lots of reasons why it gets tough to continue once the surrender or willful obedience is undertaken. But if its about the moment in time, it pass, and that doesn’t lead to sustainable santification.
The Bible helps us to imagine what life in God is to be like, and throughout its pages God calls us to allow that imagination to become obedience. We don’t know what God is designing for each person and perhaps we’d be better off—I mean they’d be better off—if we helped them to discover that design. Perhaps God is working on our patience, even as He is working on another’s sanctification. Maybe He is teaching us something, even as He is bringing another to obedience.
Must I remind us that we should be as patient with others in their journey with God as God was bringing us to the place where we “know it all.” (Sarcasm implied.) Just as it is not our work that makes us holy, it, too, is not our manipulation and calculation to get “others” to obey.
This leads me to my next point…God invading one’s life and a continued openness to His Lordship…
The first intro blog-thought...
“With the exception of certain mathematicians and physicists, all the authors of the ‘Great Books’ are represented in this chapter [on God]. In sheer quantity of references, as well as in variety, it is the largest chapter. The reason is obvious. More consequences for thought and action follow the affirmation or denial of God than from answering any other basic question...The whole tenor of human life is affected by whether men regard themselves as supreme beings in the universe or acknowledge a super-human being whom they conceive of as an object of fear or love, a force to be defied or a Lord to be obeyed. Among those who acknowledge a divinity, it matters greatly whether the divine is represented merely by the concept of God--the object of philosophical speculation--or by the living God whom men worship in all the acts of piety which comprise the rituals of religion.” ~Mortimer Adler
Now that’s an interesting set of words I put together here—sustainable sanctification. Riding on the later half of my 29th year as a Christian, I find myself thinking, maybe even rethinking sanctification: How one’ gets it; and what does it look like? Early, the idea of sanctification was related to my spirituality and my “perfection” as a disciple of Jesus Christ. My training in the ministry imprinted the idea of a “crisis” experience that result in time where Christ is made alive as Lord and one’s “old man” is dead. There was a debate in these circles as to whether sanctification came first or whether the crisis came first which lead to sanctification. The older tradition stemming from the founder and the first teachers sided on sanctification then crisis; now, its crisis then sanctification. I had always thought that it could be both ways—God is created and both seem the experience of the New Testament—but I always wondered about the emphasis on the sanctification being a moment in time, or did sanctification model itself like eschatology or the end of days which is not so much a point in time but an anticipation and process that ends with the penultimate of perfections—Christ’s coming? And, I was always concerned that sanctification concentrated on such a narrow range of human activities, traits, and attitudes. Mostly seemed to center on church-related and privatized “spiritual” things: get more involved in church things, spend more time at church or doing more church-related things, prayer, devotions, even bible reading, tithing, etc. Of course it was expected that behavior reflected the fruits of the spirit as well. I’d like to reflect on these two things over the next few days.
First, the moment in time—or is sanctification (or call it what you want, break-through, filling, fullness, baptism in the spirit, perfection, spirituality, Christ-likeness, etc.)? It seems to me it’s not a point in time, but a journey. Sanctification and spiritual growth is about the journey of allowing God to invade one’s life, a continued openness (sometimes willing, sometimes even provoked) to His Lordship over every area and new areas of life, an awareness of the tension between the “old man” and the “new man,” and the hope of a fully realized eschatology where God’s Son is seen fully as Lord and King of Kings.
Now grant it these are just thoughts, and they each need unpacking. But I’d like to muse and reflect a little on these as I rethink sanctification (out loud), that is sustainable sanctification:
- The journey of allowing God to invade one’s life
- A continued openness (sometimes willing, sometimes even provoked) to His Lordship over every area and new areas of life
- An awareness of the tension between the “old man” and the “new man”
- The hope of a fully realized eschatology where God’s Son is seen fully as Lord and King of Kings.