Redeemed: How I Love to Proclaim It

There is power in stories. There is great power in great stories. The greatest story every told is that of Jesus. It is the redeemption story. It is THE story of all-time. The story of God’s action, interaction, presence and relationship across all of history with people and creation. What is this story exactly? What is redemption and why should I be proclaiming it? Redemption is:

God’s work to set things right again—to reverse the fall and bring all things back into harmony with his will; to defeat sin and Satan and restore us back to full relationship with him.

It is a vast, historic, all-encompassing story spanning millennia involving known and unknown events and people in all corners of the globe. It is also a living story—playing out contemporarily in all manner of ways in all number of lives. At the center of the story is Jesus, of course. Without him there would be no redemption story at all. So—think about—from before creation and throughout all of what we know as the OT, the story of redemption is evident—God working thru people, places, nations to make his presence known, call people to Him, proclaim his desire for relationship, while foreshadowing the crescendo of the story—Jesus. Then comes Christ who personified the story; living out the very meaning of redemption; personally, demonstrating God’s desire for full, restored relationship with us while paying the price for redemption on the cross and empowering us to live it out through the resurrection.

Read Ephesians 1:3-11 for the apostle Paul’s divine summary of this story.

Then that actually happened as Acts and the New Testament epistles chronicle. Exciting! They were singing redemption’s sweet song as they went into all the world and shared the Good News of the redeemer—Jesus Christ. The grand story of redemption being actualized as people from all lands, all ethnicity and all tongues came to Christ and changed the world. This is the power found in redemption—to renew and bring freshness, healing and new life.

And God continues to act to this day–still working out this eternal story to its ultimate completion when Jesus returns and brings complete redemption to all creation. Yes, it is a huge story, but is also not—for it is also a personal story. We are quite familiar with individuals in the story—Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Ruth, Saul, Hannah, David, Solomon, Daniel, Mary, Joseph, Peter and Paul. God called and worked through them and untold others to move the redemption story along. We remain in it—involved in this continual movement. It is critical that we believe and realize this truth. What God started, what Jesus delivered, and what remains yet completed but promised—the story of the redemption of the world; God wants to be our personal story as well just like as with those before us. They are the collection of witnesses surrounding us and urging us to complete our own redemption story—Hebrews 12. Redemption is to be what defines us; what drives us; what determines every aspect of our life. Redemption is to be that transformative. God did not work through history and send his Son to die for IT NOT TO BE. So, as we proclaim redemption throughout this year. Here is what I hope and pray will happen;

*We will more fully realize the depth and width of God’s love for us and we will more greatly appreciate the lengths Gods went to bring redemption about.

*We will become more aware of the ongoing work of God in Christ as the redemption story continues to play out now around us and in creation. It is about more than me.

*We will more clearly and precisely see ourselves in this story and better understand exactly what that means; and then allow that to finally, completely define us—to become fully integrated into God’s redemption. For us to fully own his story. It is not just a history lesson!

*We will then more completely realize that this changes everything—perhaps most importantly that fully embracing the redeemed identity will reframe how we view ourselves, our purpose and mission; understanding we are only resident aliens here, that this world and all it values is not our home.

*We will then be more encouraged and ready go and proclaim it—to actually share God’s story of redemption thru our story—for there is power in this telling: the power to bring blessed redemption to others. And I mean really tell it; to allow the Holy Spirit to empower our witness to those around us.

*We will then be more able to live in a greater sense of anticipation of Christ’s return and the full redemption of all—to the degree that allows us to frame life and all its challenges as just light and momentary bumps in the eternal road knowing we will be redeemed from them all when Jesus returns.

Why is all of this so significant? Well, it is the eternal movement of God in the world and it is still ongoing. Seeing ourselves firmly within this story and understanding this not just to be God’s will, but the most significant way we can live our life is a game changer. And because it is largely missing among us. That is evident with churches dying and shrinking with what is left of us competing for the same crowd. It is realized in that most in the world remain unconvinced that God really matters beyond perhaps helping us get what we want to keep up our lifestyle.  Fewer and fewer seem to know or care that he actually is active among us—the living God continuing to accomplish his will in difference-making ways in the world. We, the church are not acting as if the story of redemption is the single greatest story of all. Therefore, it does seem like a dusty old history lesson, rather than a continual, living, story of life, renewal and power among us. Yes, we may acknowledge that God is still here, still offers personal salvation and stands by on call when we need him, but we like to write our own stories, thank you very much, and quite frankly resist full integration into his story. Andrew Root in his book, Churches and the Crisis of Decline offers his thoughts on this:

We live in a secular age because we can imagine and at times do live, as though there is no transcendent quality to life at all. Most of us in the West can live our lives as though there is no living God who enters into history and speaks to persons. Westerners hold onto the idea of God (most of us “believe” in God, at least in America) but few of us are sure we can encounter this God.

So, how about it church? Who is up for changing that—for singing redemption’s sweet song? Who is ready for some radical renewal? Who is in need of transformative restoration? Who is sick and tired of the same ole, same ole? Who would like to see God break out boldly into the world around us? It is all about redemption! Redemption of hearts and souls; redemption of broken relationships; redemption from sin; addiction; fear; loneliness; anger; lostness. This Is the story; this Is the song.

Give thanks to the Lord, for his is good; his love endures forever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say this—those he redeemed from the hand of the foe, those he gathered from the lands, from east and west, from north and south. (Psalms 107:1-3)

Death–I Understand It, But I Don’t

If the title may sound a bit confusing, there is a good reason. Often confusion is a consequence of death leaving us with more questions than answers. I have lived it and seen it frequently in others—even the most prepared and informed of others. Death is what it is—an enemy will all shall face.

And that part I do understand on one level. Death is a consequence of sin—the fall of man along with the brokenness of the world. This is how the Bible frames it in the creation narrative (Genesis 3:17-19). Since that fallen moment it has become part of the corrupted earth—an accepted but hardly welcomed part of life. Scripture plainly states that it is coming for everyone (Hebrews 9:27). When it comes it brings separation, heartbreak, and mourning—especially when unexpected. Death is part of Satan’s arsenal. It plays a major role in his desire to kill, steal and destroy (John 10:10). The wonderful heavenly news however, is that death does not have the final say. God has countered death with life. The empty tomb does not just provide the optics for this, but also the guarantee. Death will ultimately and completely be eradicated by Christ (1 Corinthians 15:26). This promise; this reality provides us hope and confidence that death does not have the final victory (1 Corinthians 15:54-56)—that in Christ Jesus it will not “sting” us in its forever form. Perhaps with a most mature understanding of this theology, we could even reach a point in which we consider death differently as it brings us one step closer to being with God (as the apostle Paul discussed in Philippians 1:21-23). Certainly, knowing all of this should lead to an embracing of the apostle John’s urging of remaining faithful unto death (Revelation 2:10). Yes, I do understand how the Bible presents death—the cause, the consequences, the remedy, the theology. From a “head” perspective I get it. It is just with the “heart” I struggle.

I struggle when children die; when young mothers are taken away from their children; when fathers leave far too soon; when murder invades lives and brings destruction far beyond just the act itself; when families are devastated by death. It all seems so unfair; so unjust; so uncalled for. I cry out—how long—to God (I am not the first: Psalm 13; Habakkuk 1:2; Revelation 6:10); how long until Jesus returns; completely defeats death; eliminating all injustice along with the pain that accompanies it?

These are the yearnings and questions of my heart and at times, they override the understanding in my head. So, I understand death, but then again, I do not. Unfortunately, this is the tension in which I will continue to live because I will continue to live—until death comes for me—in this broken-down world. Of course, Jesus understands that, having entered this brokenness with me (Hebrews 4:14-16). So all I can do on those occasions when no theology will sooth my pain is to cling to him; trust; not give up; and double down on the hope found in him. What other choice do I have? What other approach makes any sense? How else can I handle it? If I allow death to defeat me now, it will surely defeat me then.

I think perhaps all of this is what Paul had in mind as he wrote in 1 Corinthians 15: 58 to conclude some of his thoughts on this topic:

So, my dear brothers and sisters, stand strong. Don’t let anything change you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord. You know that your work in the Lord is never wasted. (ERV)

“Never wasted”—above all I do not want the enemy to come only to realize that my life was wasted. This makes death all the more tragic. My head and my heart will likely continue to be in tension over death, but I want both to belong to Jesus even as I deal with the pain and the questions.

Lord come quickly.

Out of Job’s Ashes

The Old Testament book of Job is somewhat of a mystery. It includes quite the unique story told in an unusual way compared to the rest Scripture. In it Job is both the protagonist and antagonist as the center of the story and of the storm surrounding him. It is rich in dialogue—between God and Satan; between Job and his friends; and between God and Job. The focus is about human suffering and why God allows it, yet a definitive answer to this dilemma is never offered. In the end it is about trust—as in—will God be trusted above and beyond the suffering with all of the accompanying questions. There is much to unpack in Job’s story and indeed out of his ashes there are numerous life lessons to learn.

The Prologue (1-2)

The book begins by firmly establishing Job as a righteous man—a guy who did everything right by his family, his friends, his community, strangers, and by God. Even though Job was not a Hebrew, he worshipped their God. He was from the “land of Uz,” which remains a rather mysterious place—no one is exactly sure of its location. The historical context of the book also remains unknown, with best guesses placing it at some point before Moses. Who recorded this story also is a mystery. What we do know is that Job was a good man—about the best around in his day.

Satan took notice of that. In a fascinating snapshot of the supernatural, we eavesdrop in a conversation between God and Satan. God asks Satan, who was apparently roaming the earth in search of people to take down into his sinful web, what he thinks of Job and his righteous conduct. Satan doesn’t think much of it and does what he does best–accuse. Job is too protected by God, so a bargain of sorts is agreed upon. God takes down some protective hedges and Satan gets a shot at Job, but at first not personally. He can only attack him around the edges—and he does it very well. Yet Job stays strong and true to God. Then a second bargain is struck. Satan can harm Job physically, but only to a point. Job’s life is to be spared. This almost surreal situation (to us anyway) sets up the rest of the book. Satan hit Job hard. First his property, security, and serenity—then his body and his health.  It rocks Job to his core. Job cannot understand why he is suffering so. For him it made no sense. He was a godly man yet all hell (almost literally) had broken loose upon him. Why? This “why” discussion takes up most the book. It remains ever present as we face suffering of our own. This is also why this book remains so compelling—and so challenging.

The Dialogues (3-41)

Job’s despair was shocking to his friends. When they came to his aid, they barely recognized him—sitting in ashes, rejected by his wife and with only a broken piece of pottery to ease his suffering. How was this the same man whom they had known—a man renown for his righteousness, justice and goodness? Obviously something had gone terribly wrong, so Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, Zophar the Naamathite, and Elihu the Buzite determined to figure it all out. Just why was Job suffering so? This is at the heart of their prolonged conversations.

To understand these exchanges it is important to understand the assumption they were all (including Job) working from—a common assumption that continues to this day. That is—how everything in the universe operates according to a strict principle of justice. From their perspective, if you were about righteousness, you would be rewarded. If evil—then the proper punishment would follow (see 4:8-9; 34:11; 36:11-12). Under this assumption, Job was apparently not the man everyone thought him to be.

So, his friends set about to probe into his life, to expose his sin, and thus to help him accept it, repent of it, and escape his ashes. But Job insisted he had not sinned—that he was innocent (9:21). No way, according to Job, had he done anything anywhere to deserve the horror he was living. He could not process this being about the justice of God because he had done nothing to warrant it. In addition to his physical distress, this was ripping at his very soul. Eventually in these discussions and in his frustration he turns on God—accusing him of inflicting this pain for no cause (16:9; 27:2,8). He is confused and just trying to make sense of it all.

At this point in the story the last friend, Elihu, speaks up. He thinks Job is mistaken in accusing God and interprets suffering somewhat differently. He suggests it may a punishment not for sins committed but rather as a warning against committing future sins.

The point of all of this dialogue? Each segment represents an element of man’s wisdom in trying to come to grips with human suffering. Who among us has not asked why innocent people suffer? Who among us has not wrestled with the apparent injustice of it? The dialogues were their way of wrestling.

Then God enters the dialogue. In what may be the most amazing part of Job’s amazing story—God speaks up and answers Job, but not exactly how Job expected. Job’s perspective of how God operates in the world centered upon himself. From that limited viewpoint Job accused God of not holding up his end of the bargain. In answering, God opened up Job’s eyes to a universe much, much larger than his own circumstance. As God spoke about creation, about taking care of the natural order, about how things operated from his perspective, Job quickly realized he was out way of his league and repents. His accusations against God were unwarranted. He simply could not know enough to make such claims against God.

So why all the suffering? Even in all of the discussion, no clear answer is provided. God does seem to use two of his more impressive creations, though, to provide some direction. He speaks of the behemoth and the leviathan—two large creatures known to Job and his contemporaries. Using them to illustrate, he pictures creation as both ordered but also dangerous; the world as having justice, but not having perfection. Thus, the suffering—it is a part of this imperfect world.

For us, who still operate at times under the same assumption as Job and his friends that answer may seem to fall short, but Job was satisfied. The epilogue of the story (chapter 42) reveals that not only did Job recover, but ended up far more blessed than before.

Trust is the Takeaway

This is the point of Job’s story. It is not to answer the problem of human suffering; it is to trust explicitly in God throughout human suffering. Even though rebuked by his friends, Job did the right thing—he took his doubts, hurts, and questions directly to God. Suffering is a byproduct of our broken world. Satan orchestrates it—just as with Job. God’s answer to this dilemma is not to eradicate it, but to send this only son to enter it—to suffer just like us so that we can eventually escape it. In the meantime—trust! Trust in the infinite wisdom and justice of God. One day it will overcome and all suffering will cease. This may not fit into all of our assumptions, but like Job we are so limited in our ability to understand. So, we cling hard to him who does understand and trust him regardless of what other voices may be saying.

That at times will not be easy, but in the end well worth it (see 2 Corinthians 4:16-18). Out of Job’s ashes comes a perspective that can see beyond the moment trusting God through it.

 

Why Be Wretched?

First, let’s set the context—without it the story is difficult to discern. The Roman church of the apostle Paul’s day had some complications. Jewish and non-Jewish Christians did not play well together. Outside forces factored in (Jew’s banishment from the city of Rome by Emperor Claudius around 49 A.D. for approximately five years), but inside factors were driving the tension. The Jewish church wanted the non-Jewish church to honor and keep the Law (as in the Torah, Law of Moses). For them it still held substantial meaning even as they followed Christ. It was their heritage and embedded securely within their identity. No way they could worship God without it being somehow a part of the process. Circumcision, the Jewish calendar, dietary practices, etc. were simply too deeply ingrained to abandon. Paul understood. He was Jewish. It was not an issue as long as Christ was honored and followed above it all. One small item however—the non-Jews were exempt. The Law and those cherished practices were basically meaningless to them. They did not come to Christ through it. It did not enhance their relationship to Christ. In fact it actually got in the way. They were not expected to honor it. But this irritated many Jewish Christians. They wanted church done their way and so the struggle of which Paul’s divine correspondence addresses. Numerous lessons for us to learn in this letter, but for now let’s consider Romans 7-8.

The Law’s Failure

Or more precisely stated—our human failure. In this text Paul expertly affirms the purpose, strength and significance of the Law while at the same time detailing its weakness.

The Law itself was good—God’s covenant to us for generations. It was his marriage contract, but it expired. A death—Christ’s—annulled it and his resurrection ushered in a new contract/covenant, one vastly superior. The Law’s failure was that it could not release us from condemnation. It only served to remind us of our weaknesses. The Law was not at fault for this—we were. Sin used the Law to exploit our weaknesses and remind us of how truly wretched we are. Just like Paul, it left us conflicted and guilty—never able to extract ourselves from the consequences of sin regardless of how diligently we tried. So while we may want to be right, we end up wrong—evil always right there with us as Paul described it. That is not a good position in which to remain and just a quick glimpse at the Jew’s historical relationship with God demonstrates it. So, why desire that status quo? Why force that on other unsuspecting folks? Why be wretched when there is another option?

That option, of course, is Christ. In him there is absolutely no condemnation. He did what we could not; what the Law could not—set us free from the life of sin and death. Through him and God’s Spirit our sinful nature can be defeated. No more living in constant conflict! Instead we develop the mind of the Spirit. He empowers us. Our obligations are met as we live as more than conquerors. That is the story of the text! Incredible!

But let’s be honest—are we actually living this story?

Still Clinging to the Superficial?

The message is clear. Christ has done the job for us. In him we are set free. Our sinful nature no longer has to hold us captive. Life in the Spirit is something altogether more and wonderful. So why do we continue to find ourselves stuck in the middle of the wretched disconnect of knowing what is right and actually doing right?

Could it be that we have never really moved beyond the superficial to fully embrace the Spirit-led life? Could it be that we continue the worn out practice of attempting to measure our faith by our own merit? In our hearts do we find some comfort in measuring our Christian performance by some standard other than the grace of God? Actually we are prewired to do this. It is not the Law or the same situation of our text, but it is the exact same tendencies. And as long as we go here—we lose. We will never be able to develop a deeper relationship with God or fully develop within us the Spirit-led life. And we will forever be failing even as we redouble our efforts to work harder to take up the slack. The story here is—it is not up to us to tackle our sin problem. We are unable to take up the slack. Christ has already done that. What is up to us—is to follow him.

Now this may come across as too fine a nuance, but it is actually much more than that. Following him does not become about what we do, but who we are. The Spirit resides within totally remaking us from the inside out. It is not about a law, it is about a life—a discipled life fueled by faith. God’s nature becomes our nature instead of our sinful nature. His will becomes our natural default, not merely a set of facts to remember. Our relationship with him empowered by and through his Spirit supersedes all else. The Spirit enables us to realize a deeper level of commitment—not based upon performance, but upon what Christ has delivered: no condemnation; sonship; adoption; the inheritance of the Father. This reconstructs our very makeup. We begin to yearn—not for things of this world—but for what is to come in Christ. Apart from Christ we cannot even begin to define our life. It makes no sense without him. We cannot even fathom being separated from the Father.

Everything else—not our approach to Christ—becomes superficial. No more hesitation on selling completely out to him. If not, then it goes back to this—“O wretched man that I am”— that is, either always guilty and hopeless on one hand or self-righteous and sanctimonious on the other.

What does that accomplish? Nothing healthy. The Romans are evidence of that. Is this who we really want to be? Why stay here when there is amazingly more to experience in Christ?

Wretchedness?

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

The Curse of the Tree

At Levy we are reading the Bible together in 2018. My lessons will flow out from the reading texts. Here is the first one from the first few chapters in Genesis. 

The creation narrative of the Bible is fascinating on numerous levels. Just the thought of God in six days (or even six eons) bringing about the incredible world in which we live simply by speaking it demonstrates his unfathomable power. The intricacies; the details; how the creation is held together and works is a wonderful topic all its own. The earth and its economy, ecology, and sustaining ability all are a part of the awesome creation story.

So are humans. Central to the narrative of Genesis is God’s relationship with those he created in his own image—man and woman—starting, of course, with Adam and Eve. God created us to have dominion over the rest of his creation (created just a little lower than the angels according to the Psalmist in 8:4-6; also Hebrews 2:6-8). From the beginning God’s ideal was to have a special relationship with us. Adam and Eve experienced the idyllic garden life—innocent and carefree. The garden was fashioned to sustain them and for their enjoyment. It offered them the perfect situation in which to commune closely with the Creator. No one should have asked for more, but they did. Of course, they did. And this then—the consequence of them wanting more—becomes the central narrative of the entire Bible. It is all about the fall and redemption of man. It is the curse of the tree.

Become like a god

This story is just the first of many in human history that demonstrate our tendency to grasp for more and how we can be manipulated and deceived into selling out to possess it. Satan (himself one of God’s creations who fell due to likely wanting more—Isaiah 14:12; Ezekiel 28:11-19) exploits human weakness in the garden for the first, but certainly not last time. Who doesn’t want to become like a god? Once Eve submitted and then Adam by eating the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil everything immediately changed forever.

In fact, they did become like a god in some ways (Genesis 3:22). By eating the fruit they entered into the tension between good and evil, but unlike God were not adequately prepared to handle it. And since that moment we remain securely within that tension doing battle with the same “devil’s schemes” as we wrestle “not against flesh and blood,” but “against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:11-12). The same desire that was within first Eve and then Adam to become like a god resides in us. After all this time, we still want more, which allows Satan to exploit and manipulate us just as he did them. Sin still is “crouching” at our door, “desiring to have” us (Genesis 4:7) It is the curse of the tree, which remains ever with us.

The Curse’s Effects

Immediately the world felt the effects of Adam and Eve’s actions. Immediately they felt the shame of their nakedness. Innocence was lost. They became fearful, hiding from God. Pain entered the world for the first time. These three alone—shame, fear and pain—continue to do great damage to God’s creation, but there was more.

All of creation was specifically cursed—animals, man, woman and the earth itself. Women were put in a submissive role to man—a consequence that continues to create conflict. Men were sentenced to sweat and hard labor. And the ground itself was cursed—from the beauty of Eden to thorns and thistles (which was still being acknowledged in Noah’s day—Genesis 5:29; and which is still being felt by the creation to this day—Romans 8:18-23).

And then there is death—the ultimate, horrible result of Adam and Eve’s decision. Death came by murder after the garden and death continues to come in all shapes and forms to claim us. The curse of the tree! We wanted more and we got it, but it was more than we ever needed; more than we ever bargained for; and much more than we could ever handle. We were not initially created for this.

The Genesis story quickly reveals it—jealousy, murder, and evil of all sorts followed man’s banishment from the garden. Eventually it reached critical mass, in that, all we thought about continuously was evil. The desire for more totally consumed. The earth went from calling “on the name of the Lord” (Genesis 4:26) to being destroyed by a flood due to completely forgetting the Lord. God had to reset. The effects of the curse were overwhelming.

God’s Covenants

It would not be the last time God reset. That same deceptive serpent would eventually be crushed (as foretold very early—Genesis 3:15) by a God who became like a man on another tree. He lifted the curse with death the last enemy still to be eradicated when he returns to take us back to the beginning—as God will once again dwell with us (Revelation 21:1-4).

Even with the direction of this story showing man moving away from God, he never moved away from us. His covenant with Noah simply foreshadowed the one he made with Abraham, which itself foreshadowed the one we enjoy now in Christ Jesus. This is The Story within the story.