Being A Means of Grace...

We must be submissive vessels of grace before we can be effective vessels for change or correction. In the public sphere, we often see Christians arguing for what they believe to be right. In the political arena, many Christians call for legislation that would either keep the status quo—hindering others from some transgression, real or perceived, that they are wanting to be free to engage in—or would engineer outward social righteousness—which would, in many cases, produce nothing more than white washed tombs. The debates rise in temperature quickly, and anger ensues rapidly when each side does not get its respective way. Like many objects exposed to extreme heat, those not insulated by grace harden, and rigidity sets in. Their causes becomes cold causes, causes fought out of spite and not love. At all cost, these people will have their way, or they will burn out trying. In this, many have lost all effectiveness. Have we forgotten that without grace, no change is possible? This is not simply to suggest that we remain humble, forever recognizing that God is sovereign and in control of the situation, but it is also a call to action, a call for us to remember that we have a duty to show grace as our Lord has shown us grace. We are in some sense and by some degree His means of grace in the world. We are His salt and light in a dark, tasteless, and decaying word. If we want others to be transformed, not simply because we want to control the world and have an engineered, pseudo-peace, but because we actually care for the lost ones, then we will first need to demonstrate grace before we act to see change happen. Grace always goes before. If it does not, any change will not be lasting. Moreover, this does not simply happen in public, but also happens in the heart first and foremost. Check your heart the next time you see the representative “opponents” of whatever issue or issues it is you are concerned about. Take stock of your feelings as you hear these "others" lobbying for their side on the news channel or social media. What feelings fill your heart? What words come to mind? What is it that you wish for them? Are you filled with compassion or malice? Do you say of them that they are precious souls in need of help, or do you call them fools, or worse? Do you want them to know peace or would you rather see some sort of vendetta visited upon them? If your heart overflows with negativity, perhaps it is you whom you need to work on. If it is love that you feel, remember how to love them. We, the representatives of Christ in the midst of this present evil age, influence, not by power struggles, but by service. When was the last time you served those who you wish to see transformed?

The Mercy of The Fall and Felix Culpa...

Note: This is something that has been placed immediately on my heart, and this article as a first attempt (a poor one at that) to express something difficult to process that is more in my heart than in my head. But, I wanted to share, nonetheless. You might not agree with every theological point I make here, but I hope my final point is what can be taken home, that point being God’s mercy in light of “The Fall” of humanity. I also apologize for any errors. This is a first draft…

A question that often used to plague me about “The Fall” of humanity, God’s revelation that our first parents led us into sin, is “why?” Not, “Why did they do it?” which is puzzling enough, but, “Why do I (we) have to suffer the affects of someone else’s mistake?” At least within my own mind, it is without question that I suffer under sin, that we all do. I accept this reality as a theological reality, but I have had, in past years, difficulty squaring it as theologically sensible, especially in light of so many other theological truths, not least being the nature of God. I have never been one to join the many theologians who have felt free to proclaim, “Felix Culpa,” “Oh, happy Fall,” as if “The Fall” is something to be celebrated, if only because it allows us to see the extent of God’s grace. I do not know about you, but I would much rather not have rebelled and suffered at all, but instead have always lived at peace and oneness with God.

Speaking from a Judeo-Christian standpoint, God is a God of righteousness; therefore, it is settled a priori that, if He is in control, which His sovereign nature suggests He is, and He has allowed “The Fall” to affect us all, to which reality and Scripture both attest, then, however this came to be, it came to be under the allowance of a equitable and loving God. Standing between these truths (the goodness of the Creator and the wickedness of the created) is a confusing place to stand, but that is where we find ourselves, at least within the Christian worldview. I am not alone in my quandary. It seems so paradoxical to many people. How can a loving and almighty God allow this to happen? Answers abound, ranging from the bizarre to the absurd. Some answers hold to a logic, but that logic is often cold and unhelpful to someone who wants to understand God’s mercy in light of this event, not merely in spite of it. Is there an answer that will satisfy this criterion?

It is interesting to note that the doctrine of “The Fall” of Adam and the subsequent result of Original Sin (the doctrine that states that the whole human race is now under the rule and has the nature of sin) is never theologically explained in the Old Testament (OT), at least not in abstract propositional statements (cold logic), which seem to suit most Westerners (so we often think) when we look for an explanation of how realities work. Instead, the idea is only alluded to in brief narrative form with no immediate moral or theological commentary to assure us we are hearing the story properly; we just get more story. The term, “Original Sin,” itself is not to be found in the whole of Scripture, let alone in the segment we have come to call, “The Fall,” which is a biblical term (see Romans 3:23). Even with all this seeming lack of information in the foundational document known as the OT, Christian theology has a robust understanding of anthropology and the origin of inherit human nature, especially our depravity, and this seems based in our understanding of the OT, especially Genesis 3, the story of “The Fall.”

Today, Christian understanding of our natural state of sin is inextricably tied to the event of Adam’s disobedience, as it should be, but for the OT, Adam, at least in terms of content, is a minor character (certainly not in terms of scope). In fact, after his death in Genesis 5, Adam, the one who is understood as responsible in the NT for Original Sin (see Romans 5), does not appear again in the whole of the OT, save one genealogical mention in 1 Chronicles 1:1, and his name is just one amongst chapters upon chapters of names. We might think that this means that, for the ancient Hebrew, the story of Adam’s disobedience was not as significant as it is to Christians today, but this would be to ignore Hebrew culture and impose our own cultural lens upon their actions, namely, how they read and wrote Scripture (more on this in a moment). First, it is worth noting that the Hebrew Scripture (the OT) does in fact assume Original Sin, or what has alternatively been called “sin nature,” as a given for the human race (see Genesis 8:21; Psalm 14:2,3; 51:5; 58:3; Proverbs 22:15; Isaiah 53:6). Second, it is worth noting that there is plenty of extra-biblical evidence that the ancient Jewish community, and not just Christians following Paul, often understood this sin nature as coming from Adam, although, just like now, just how this is the case was not always agreed upon (see 4 Ezra 3:7-22; Jubilees 3:17-32), Paul of course not pulling the idea from thin air in Romans 5, but coming from his already well-developed Jewish theology.

In the story of “The Fall” itself, we do not really see an explicit mentioning of how sin will spread to Adam’s progeny, nor to what degree. It is only in the horrifying accounts following “The Fall” culminating at the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11) that we see sin’s increase amongst the whole race before salvation history begins. It is in this time that sin is at its worst, and the reader is simply left in horror chapter after chapter, until God breaks into Abram’s life in Genesis 12. Again, after this point, sin as our (humanity’s) natural state is simply assumed throughout the OT, but it is most certainly assumed. In fact, if humanity were not seen as sinful as a whole, there would be no reason at all in Israel’s mind for their own existence as the chosen people of God, which is for the purpose of redemption, as they are called out to be a kingdom of priest (Exodus 19:6), which suggests a nation that mediates between a sinful world and a just God. If Original Sin were not a part of their understanding, they would have asked, “Chosen for what, a priestly Kingdom to whom?” That they understood this about the world and themselves is evident, but flatly stated upfront, as we might explain such an important idea if we were to record it (in Genesis 3) is not how the Hebrew Scriptures work. Instead, they unfold, sometimes very slowly and often without clear, concise commentary to explicate what is being said.

This reality of “The Fall” account is an example of one of the most frustrating aspects of the OT for modern readers, and the reason, at first read, we might misunderstand this story’s importance for the whole of the OT. The OT is overwhelmingly written in historical narrative form. It is certainly not just a history, but a historical theology. In other words, the history it records is designed to teach us something about our God and our place before God, but how this is done is not how we moderns would handle such a task of teaching theology. The OT writers simply record the events, often wanting to say something deeply theological, but never saying so in any explicit manner. “The Fall” is merely one amongst many historical narratives that define Israel’s sense of identity, but seem so short and unexplained from a modern’s point of view. Surely some characters have long accounts (like Moses and David), but so many of the other significant figures only get a few chapters (like Noah, Joseph, and Samson. In fact, in the grand scheme of things, Abraham’s story is fairly short, although He does get much mentioning beyond His own story, unlike Adam).

The reader is left with the task of hearing the implicit consequences of each story told, and the story of “The Fall” is no different. This is a brilliant approach to get readers involved in actually thinking through theology itself, since they have to actually apply an interpretive mind to each story. They have to actually discuss it and flesh it out together, in community, but it is frustrating when we just want to get straight down to the point. Genesis 3 is horrifyingly silent about the scope and extent as to how this sin will affect the human race. Instead, we have to wait in agony to see what will happen now that God’s will has been transgressed. We do get a sense of the concentric spread of sin when God declares the curse of Adam (see Genesis 3:17-19), as he will live a life defined by toil, fear, and entropy, but it will not be until we see Cain kill Abel that we begin to understand that Adam’s curse is not simply His alone, but ours. Shortly we arrive to Noah’s story in Genesis 6 and we see the whole world has filled with wickedness. Original Sin is as clear as the noses on our face, without ever having to be explicated in step-by-step logical statements.

If we are going to get to any sort of satisfactory root to our place in the lineage of sin in light of Genesis 3 and how, perhaps, this can make sense, even in light of the good Creator that opens the Genesis story, we are going to have to read this story as an ancient Hebrew might have read it. I am no expert on ancient Hebraic culture, but I do know a few things. First, while Genesis 3 is brief and its story does not recur in the OT, it would permeate the Hebrew mind as they read their ancient Scriptures, especially the Torah. The Torah is seen as a literary unit, known alternatively as “The Law of Moses,” and was made up of the first five books of what has become the Biblical Canon (Genesis through Deuteronomy). In a big way, this book was not seen as five distinct books, but one large document, and in that day, just like ours, the introduction’s import for the whole of the story cannot be overstated. Thus, the opening of Genesis is of vital importance to this ancient community’s understanding of their most foundational sacred text. The first eleven chapters of the Torah explained to Israel their very purpose for being, and they would have read and reread, recited and re-recited these stories from one Generation to the next:

Speaking of the Torah, the Lord in Deuteronomy instructs the Israelites:

Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (6:7-9 NRSV)

The law, the whole Torah, was vital to the people, and their need for Torah, as explained in the stories that open the law, “The Fall” included, was to permeate their minds and define them as a people, so they would have poured over this story many, many times, and they would have read the story, not as a modern, who might simply gloss over short stories to get to bigger stories, but as the very prologue to their own existence. Moreover, they would have read the story in light of their own experience, this being reflected in the very manner the story is written. While there are many experiences that define Israel, I will mention two that I believe are of utmost importance to this particular story, “covenant” and “exile,” two ideas that are often held together throughout Israel’s historical experience as the people of God. Seeing the fall in the context of covenant and exile can help us, at least at some level, come to understand how sin has come to effect us all, and, at least in my mind, in such a way that leaves us grateful instead of frustrated with God for allowing, not just Adam’s fall, but through Adam’s sin (and our own), our fall as well. I know this sounds strange, but hang in there.

Many a theologian has seen the Eden scene in which God gives Adam a place as the steward of creation as reflecting a covenant scene. Whether we understand this to be the author’s presenting this real historical event in a artistic and anachronistic form in which covenant is simply used as a lens to understand that Adam did, in fact, have an agreement of sorts with God, or we understand it as true covenant, is beside the point. Whatever is going on, the author wants Israel to relate this historical event to her own experience, and covenant is used to perform this task:

You may have noticed that…Genesis 1 sounds a lot like the relationship between a vassal and his suzerain…Here the suzerain (Yahweh) offers his vassals (Adam and Eve) the land grant of Eden with the stipulation that humanity care for it and protect it….(see Gen2:15)….In addition to this perfect place, Adam and Eve are given each other (Gen 2:18-25), and as is implied by Genesis 3:8, they are given full access to their loving Creator. The only corner of the garden which was not theirs to use and enjoy was the tree of the knowledge of good and evil…In essence, Adam and Eve are free to do anything except decide for themselves what is good and what is evil.[1]

What does all this mean? In the Scripture and throughout the Ancient Near East (the world to which the OT belongs), covenant was a very well known political agreement between two parties, often kings, in which a bond was made and promises (expectations) were expressed. The earliest known form of covenant in historical record was the Hittite treaty, which Abraham and his progeny would have been well acquainted with. In this form of covenant, the parties were not seen as equals, but there would be a greater (suzerain) king and a lesser (vassal) king. The greater would promise protection (sustenance) in return for service and obedience (faithfulness). In this Genesis account, God is offering sustenance and dominion (Adam’s garden in which to thrive and rule over the whole of creation) in exchange for Adam’s service as a good ruler who obeys the Lord, as expressed in one commandment: to not eat of the Tree of The Knowledge of Good and Evil, but to allow God the place of deciding what is the right and wrong directions for humanity.

Covenant was also seen as a forming or an affirmation of kinship. By entering into covenant, the two parties involved would no longer simply speak of each other in political terms, but in familial terms, the suzerain often being called, “Father,” and the vassal, “Son.” This is called a “fictive kinship,” a forming of a family bond in which one was not present before. Think of a marriage: Two unrelated persons (in terms of blood kinship) enter into covenant and are then considered real family from that point onward. In the case of Adam and Eve, they were already God’s children, but this would have confirmed this in the mind of the Israelite. Before ever receiving the written text of the Torah, Israel enters into a similar covenant in Exodus 19. God asks Israel to be His people with the stipulation that they would be Holy (faithful) so that the world could see a people of God that were different from the world and the present evil age. So, Israel would understand covenant intimately, as well as the consequences of a breach in covenant, since they broke covenant time and again. A breach in covenant was unfaithfulness (again think of marriage), and such infidelity was grounds for separation.

As we see time and time again in Israel’s own history, each time they failed to live as a Holy people and slipped into utter wickedness, they would experience a time of being removed from God’s protection and care, which was defined by Israel experiencing the natural consequence of forsaking God’s laws. They would be removed from their land at the hands of their enemies and would naturally suffer under the oppression of the kings around them, the kings of the world, the ones they were so eager to imitate and comingle with. This consequence was known as exile, and could be seen as both the natural consequence of sin—sin leads to suffering—and the judgment of God—God allowing Israel to suffer their sin. So, there is an element of sin being a primary cause of suffering, and there is an element of suffering being a secondary judgment, as God chose to remove His protection in light of a breach in the covenant:

…therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life. (Genesis 3: 23,24 NRSV)

Adam and Eve broke their covenant with God, and, therefore, suffered the same result that Israel suffered when they did likewise, exile from their home, the garden. (Not incidentally, Israel saw the “Promised Land,” as a sort of regaining of the garden.) The word translated “sent” in the passage above is the same word the OT uses for divorce of a spouse or the estrangement of a child from a parent. This is certainly covenant language. Covenant relationship between Creator and creature was broken and the family relationship severed.

Now, we have been looking at exile thus far as punishment, but what we might forget is that for Israel, exile was not Yahweh’s punishment in the sense of petty vengeance, but was often seen in light of his mercy. Exile served as a disciplinary action more than a punishment (final judgment in which there was no hope of return home). We must remember that in covenant, infidelity is grounds of full disownment, but in exile, Israel was still seen as God’s people, and His allowance of suffering would be His disciplinary action to bring them to repentance and trust in God, which would lead them back out of exile. Without the allowance of suffering, Adam and Even, as well as Israel, might never understand the problem of sin and evil, something we definitely understand today. While the strong language of divorce and disownment is used in God’s exilic action upon Adam and Eve, their very allowance to enter exile, and not immediately suffering a final death, is a hint that God is not fully done with humanity, which is also already hinted at in Genesis 3:15 in which Eve’s offspring (later to be understood as Jesus) will bring judgment upon the serpent, Satan. The real deserved punishment and natural consequence for a breach in this covenant was not just exile in which Adam and Eve would be allowed to suffer under their choice to have their own way (sin), and consequently suffer under sin’s destructive force for a prolonged but finite time, but death, which, while happening to a certain extent in spiritual exile from the Garden was not made final (the utter separation of God and man forever).

Again, in a sense, exile is a sort of death, since death is a separation from God, but it was not final death, as we see the story unfold, God still interacts with humanity after exile. Again, for Israel, exile does not represent full abandonment, as we see God redeem them time and again in their own exiles. So, Israel would have seen the fact that Adam and Eve went into exile and were not fully condemned at the very moment of sin as a great mercy. When looking at the story again, we see death as both the natural result of sin and the forensic judgment of Almighty God, and there is no reason to suppose that this death is anything less than final death, full separation from God, forever:

And the Lord God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.” (Genesis 2:16,17 NRSV)

Here, and at the actual fall, we see sin seemingly spoken of as a natural result of partaking in taking from the tree, which is to effectively remove ourselves from under God’s will:

They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. ⁹ But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” ¹⁰ He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.” (Genesis 3:8-10 NRSV).

Before God declares His judgments on Adam, Eve, and the serpent, we already see Adam has lost secure relationship with God. Death is setting in. However, the Bible, and certainly Paul, does not simply see death as a natural result, but also a forensic result a judgment) of sin as well, which is what seems to bother most of us when we think about our own suffering under sin).

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23).

It is worth noting that, because of God’s providence, of course He has to make a decision to allow anything to happen before it ever does. However, this does not necessarily imply He is the cause of all that happens. We certainly would not want to make God out to be the author of sin; likewise, we are not forced to see His judgment of sin leading to death as making Him the author of death. There are two things to consider here. First, let us again look to Israel’s own experience of exile, a lesser type (analogy) of death. Here God judged Israel by delivering them into the hands of their enemies, but He did not enact His justice by active means. Instead, it was by passive means. He would remove His supernatural protection, and then, naturally, the nations Israel was flirting with would have their own ways with Israel. Then Israel would realize the perverse nature of their want to be in league with these peoples. Likewise, Adam and Eve chose autonomy from God by partaking of the tree. God allows them to then suffer the consequence of serving sin by removing His presence, a passive action indeed.

Second, we must remember that the laws of God, His proclamations of what is right and wrong, are the revealed will of God, which is inseparable from His character. They are defined by who God is, making them very natural revelations, and not secondary declarations of God saying, “You must jump through these hoops to be in my presence.” Instead, they were always a calling to man to trust God and to be a part of His image. Thus, God’s laws are tied to the nature of God, so that His opposing of disobedience, which is evil, is not simply secondary, but simply a part of who He is. He is righteous and cannot entertain evil (His free nature not being threatened here, sense evil is simply the antithesis of God’s will). In other words, it does not seem that God simply and abstractly decided that “the wages of sin is death,” but that He is declaring that sin separates humanity from God, who is our source of life, therefore, death is the result, and that, if we chose such a path, His judgment will be to allow us, at least to some extent, to suffer under that oppressive reign. Just as with Israel, God also judges to allow man to suffer under the reign of the kingdom into which they are expelled, and for Adam and Eve, this means suffering under the reign of sin. But, exile always comes with hope for a return, which is a sign of mercy. Israel then would see for Adam and Eve, “The Fall,” as apposed to a “final judgment,” as a mercy. Otherwise, human history would have been over before it began.

Now we are getting closer to ourselves. Adam and Eve, our parents, were exiled from Eden, which was the realm in which God’s dimension (heaven) met humanity’s dimension (earth). This exile represents the separation of those realities. Now man is no longer in the presence of God, and, therefore, no longer under His full blessing and care. Eden no longer exists (at least not until the return of New Jerusalem). Thus, just as any child born to a person in exile, we are naturally born into the place our parents inhabit. Therefore, if humanity was going to continue as a race, if we were ever going to be given the chance at life, and Adam and Eve’s children were ever going to come to be, then naturally speaking, they would be born in exile, under the rule and reign of the land of their exile, which is under the rule and reign of sin. This certainly does not sum up our relation to sin and the reason for our judgment, which is not simply based on Adam’s sin, but our own as well (see Romans 5:12), but it does have us, as Westerners, face a reality we often do not like to face.

We like to think of ourselves as autonomous individuals, and not as incorporeal beings. We like to deny that the actions of “us,” as a whole, has any bearing on the “I,” but they do.  We are naturally related as a whole race, and the action of parents have real affects for the children. So, what would have happened if God would not have had mercy, as is implied by the exile, but instead would have allowed the final result of sin to have its final affect right then and there on Adam and Eve? They, and, therefore, we, would have all been placed under final death, full and irreversible separation from God.

The very historical fact that we are capable of recording and reflecting on such a story as "The Fall" demonstrates what God did at this moment in history. The natural and forensic result of sin is death. God could have allowed this moment in time to be less of a fall from His presence and more of a full abandonment of His presence, leading to an eventual, natural demise as entropy would have no restraint with God's life-giving presence (and common grace) fully removed from history, or, perhaps, He could have handled it in a forensic sense and enacted immediate judgment and full annihilation of humanity, utterly destroying Adam an Eve and therefore the whole race they were to bear right at the moment of transgression. They certainly deserved judgment.

He could have left our parents in sin without hope, and walked away from the world, as the deist assumes He had. In effect, even though you and I would probably never come to be if He never allowed common grace to sustain this evil world and planned a salvation history to bring us (those who trust in Him) out of exile, we (you and I) would have been judged right there. Our plight would be to never exist and know Him at all. In that sense, I must cry, "felix culpa." That God would plan to share grace with me when He had no obligation to bring me to be in the first place and even had good reason not to, is a show of historical mercy that is baffling. The very fact that there is history (as full of evil as it has been) is a sign of mercy. When we ask, "Why, God? Why did you allow this (a history following Adam and Eve, which led to me being born in exile) to happen," He is softly answering, "Because I wanted you to be, and I wanted to know you—You are a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve, if there was no offspring from Adam and Eve, there would be no you—If I had chosen not to allow this to happen (and ended your parents being), I would have likewise chosen not to have a relationship with you for you would have never come to be.”

In light of this, sin and death still remain confusing, but we see God’s mercy being displayed in the midst of this horrid event. In the fullness of time, He sacrificed His Son to bring whosoever believes out of exile and back to His full presence. We should be thankful that He chose a fall for our race and not an immediate final destruction, which none have to suffer as long as we replace our trust from our own way and back into His hands in full submission to His grace through faith. Felix Culpa….

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[1] Richter, Sandra, The Epic of Eden, (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2008), pp. 103, 104.

It’s Not About the Haircut: (Expanded transcript for study)

A reminder from Samson’s life to remain spiritually awake…[1]

This post is dedicated to Patricia Bell who has been looking for some reading material while she is in recovery. I pray God returns you to full health, Mrs. Patricia. In the mean time, I hope you will enjoy this manuscript from my sermon last Sunday.

Note: I actually wrote the transcript after the sermon so that I might adapt it for reading and study. Therefore, it is not the exact wording I used in the sermon, but it is a close approximation, expanded somewhat for the sake of study clarity. This is actually a really long post, so you might want to plan to break it up into several readings…

No one has ever really accused me of being the most vigilant person in the world. No one has said, “You know, that Tab guy really pays attention to what’s going on around him.” My wife, my parents, and my schoolteachers would all attest that I spend more time in a dream world than I do here on this earth. When I was younger, I was that kid in little league baseball who would rather dig rocks up in the outfield and toss them at the fence behind me than I would paying attention to the game going on in front of me. My only indication that I was indeed paying baseball was the coach yelling, “Miller! Get the ball!” Little league coaches take the game way too seriously if you ask me.

By the time I made it to high school, I began to care more about academics, and that carried on into college and beyond. However, in middle school, I couldn’t care less. One sunny afternoon I was sitting in class, and the teacher was is the midst of a coffee fueled lecture when he apparently said, “Take out a sheet of paper. Number it one to three, and answer the following questions.” I missed all of that. It was in the middle of a lecture, and if you know anything about daydreaming, you know lecture time is prime time. Anyway, my only indication that we had taken the quiz is when the teacher asked us to pass them forward, and the guy behind me tapped me on the shoulder to hand me his paper. Missed that opportunity. Oh well.

But, before you begin to believe this was just a childhood problem and that I eventually grew out of whatever it was that kept me in the clouds—ADD perhaps—let me tell you a recent story. My wife might not know this, so I might be in a little hot water now that I am telling it. We bought a juicer some time ago, because, you know, we want to be healthy and all. Anyway, we had not used it in some time, and I just thought that was so ashamed. So, I surfed the web and found the perfect juice. You know, the one that is to make you run faster, jump higher, and live to be 105.

Well, I went to the store and purchased around twenty-five dollars of produce. I got home, pulled out the juicer and examined it, trying to remember how it worked. I keenly observed a container on the side and thought, “Of course, that is where the juice comes out.” So, without further delay, I began to juice. I was more fascinated with watching the fruits and veggies being ground up than anything else. I had made it near the bottom of the bag and decided to look into the container to see how much delicious juice I had made, and that is when I saw it. The container was not there to catch the juice, but the solid waste, the pulp. The juice had been steadily pouring out the other side and upon the counter. Oops.

Practically speaking, being oblivious can be dangerous. I am on the road with unsuspecting civilians everyday (only a joke, I am a good driver). If my pinkie toe could talk, it would tell you that it hates my guts. At least three times a week, I crack it on the same coffee table that has been in the same place in relation to the couch for years. I think my toe has spent more time broken than intact in my adult life. Having said this, if being mentally oblivious is dangerous enough, then being spiritually oblivious is all the more dangerous.

In his first letter, Peter says, “Discipline yourselves, keep alert (be vigilant, be awake). Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour” (5:18). If you have ever watched a nature program with lions, you will know that they usually attack when the animal they are pursuing is not on its guard. So, Satan seeks out those who are not paying attention, thinking that temptation is really not a threat. Be mindful that when Peter is writing here, he is addressing Christians. The adversary is not simply looking to devour the people of the world, but us as well.

Now, I am thankful that, even while we have a real adversary, we also have an Advocate. The Scriptures warns us as Christians not to sin, but, if we do, the Bible also tells us that Christ is there to pick us up and offer us grace (I John 2:1). This is a comfort to know, but just because Christ offers us grace, this does not mean that there are no consequences for the sins we commit. If Christ served as some sort of cosmic clean up crew or garbage man, making sure that nothing ever affected us, why then would Peter waste his time warning the Church to “keep alert”? The truth is, sin still can hurt us, and it can leave us miserable.

We see this truth all the time. We see Christian brothers and sisters in our very communities in pain and misery. We see Christian families that are broken, because of sinful decisions, and it is not as if a person wakes up one day and all of the sudden says, “You know what, I am going to cheat on my spouse today.” No. It happens by degrees. Perhaps it starts off by holding animosity against one’s spouse, and not being willing to work it out, to talk about it with each other and with God. So, it leads to the person doing little things that they think really don’t matter, like a click of the mouse as he or she seeks intimacy online. This then leads to flirting with others, perhaps at work, and then, the next thing the person knows is that everything has imploded, and the family has fallen apart.

It is the same thing with drug use. No one wakes up saying, “I think I’ll get hooked on heroin today, or, perhaps prescription drugs.” No. It happens by degrees, and, although we will always be forgiven when we take it to Christ, this does not mean that we should take down our guard. It would be best to live as Christ has called us to live, and to avoid pain and misery.  

We are now going to turn to Judges 14:5-9 to see how being spiritually oblivious can be very dangerous. Now, before we read the text, I will say this: This is not an easy text to understand if you have never studied it or its background before. But, there is going to be a payoff for our studying the text. We can easily become frustrated with the Old Testament. It is largely a collection of ancient stories about a people a world away, and the author does not end his tale with the statement, “And the moral of the story is…” We are left to figure it out. The New Testament is more didactic, easier to access, and it gets down to the brass tacks. It says things like, “Be alert.” That is straightforward. However, if we can see the Old Testament stories, like the one we are about to read, as opportunities to learn, instead of obstacles to overcome, the pay off is great. The story will serve as a lifelong reminder of being spiritually awake.

It is one thing to be in the midst of temptation, perhaps there is a link online that we know we should not click, and we remember a New Testament idea, like Peter’s words: “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.” Yes, we know we are supposed to avoid temptation, but, doesn’t Satan have bigger fish to fry. Clicking this link in the privacy of my own home, when no one is around, this won’t hurt anyone. Without really seeing what the author is talking about, it is easy to toss aside.

It is quite another thing to see the slow decline of sin in the story of someone’s life, as we read it in the Old Testament. Stories get etched into our mind, and, believe me. This story, once you really hear it, will be etched into your mind. This is the beauty of the Old Testament stile of teaching. Each Testament has its merits, but the Old Testaments is often ignored.

This story, believe it or not, is about a man who is not being spiritually vigilant. But, we will soon explore the story together to see how it is indeed a warning to us, and, it will hopefully be forever etched on your mind. So, let’s look at it. As we go through, I will be providing a little bit of information to make sure the story is as clear as it can be upon first read:

Judges 14:5-9:

⁵ Then Samson went down with his father and mother to Timnah. Just prior to this, Samson has told his father and mother that he wants to marry a Philistine woman. At this time, parents arranged marriages, so he had to have them go with him to set the marriage up, and while they are not happy he is marrying a Philistine, he demands that they go. So, they are on the way when this story begins.

When he came to the vineyards of Timnah, suddenly a young lion roared at him. Samson has walked ahead of his parents and is out of sight from them when a lion attacks him.

⁶ The spirit of the Lord rushed on him, and he tore the lion apart barehanded as one might tear apart a kid. Here we see the gift God has given Samson in full affect. The lion is no match for Samson, and he kills the lion, dismembering it as one might a kid, a young goat, perhaps bringing to the Israelite’s mind a sacrifice.

 But he did not tell his father or his mother what he had done. When his parents catch up with Samson, he does not mention the lion to them.

 ⁷ Then he went down and talked with the woman, and she pleased Samson. Samson’s mission to arrange his own marriage was a success.

 ⁸ After a while he returned to marry her, Some time has passed, and Samson and his parents are making the same journey back to Timnah, this time for the wedding.

…and he turned aside to see the carcass of the lion, and there was a swarm of bees in the body of the lion, and honey. When Samson comes to the place where he had killed the lion, he walks off the path, again his parents being out of sight, and he checks out the body. Inside he see that bees have made a nest and have also made honey.

⁹ He scraped it out into his hands, and went on, eating as he went. When he came to his father and mother, he gave some to them, and they ate it. But he did not tell them that he had taken the honey from the carcass of the lion. He decides to get the honey out as a snack for the road. He also gives some to his parent, and they eat some as well. He again does not mention the lion.

Strange story, right? What does this have to do with being spiritually unaware? In fact, what does this have to do with anything? As a matter of fact, Samson’s story only gets stranger. If you have ever been a part of Sunday School, you will undoubtedly know the story nearer the end of Samson’s life, the story of Samson, Delilah, and the haircut (Judges 16). This is a strange story too. In this story, Delilah, who is being bribed to betray her husband, tricks Samson into telling her the secret to his power, and he eventually tells her it is his long hair. She cuts it, and sure enough, Samson loses his power.

Now, as modern readers, we are tempted to look at all of this and dismiss it as an ancient fable. We know this is not how the world works. First of all, God does not give us magical power for growing out our hair. Second of all, God would not be so petty as to punish us for being tricked. We know Samson has been forbidden to cut his hair, but he doesn’t. Delilah does, while he is asleep, and a man has to sleep sometime, right? This seems sort of mean of God, does it not? So, we are tempted to toss this story out as a fairy tale. Worse, if we go back earlier in the story to try and find a key as to why God would do this to poor Samson, all we find is a strange story of a man eating honey out of a dead animal.

But, what if I told you that, in fact, the story of the honey and the lion is indeed the key to unlocking the rest of the story? What if I told you that one does indeed lead to the other? It certainly does not jump off the page at us, but if we begin to understand some background, this story becomes much clearer. So, that is what we are going to do. We are going to step back from the story to get some context.

I apologize for putting the story on pause right now and not giving you an answer right away, but it will be worth it. Also, I apologize for what I am about to do, which is to load you up on information. As you read this information, you might think to yourself, “What does this have to do with a dude eating honey out of a dead lion,” but I promise it will all make sense soon enough. Just hang in here with me for a moment.

Let’s first talk about Samson’s world. Samson is, of course, an Israelite, and he belongs to the tribe of Dan. At this time, Israel has not yet fully established the land. So, they are not a geo-political entity yet, in the sense of having defined boarders. Instead they are somewhere in between a nomadic people and a sedentary people, as they are in the midst of the conquest begun by Joshua. Remember that Israel really started as a slave people in Egypt. Through Moses, God delivers these people and sends them to Canaan, via a forty-year sojourn in the wilderness. He has sent them to Canaan as part of a promise to give them the land, and under Joshua, everything is going well.

However, after Joshua’s death, where the book of Judges begins, the people of God begin to forget about their duty in conquest. God has commanded them to drive out all the inhabitants of Canaan so that they will be the only people in the land. Many people have found this kind of strange. Why would Yahweh demand displacement of all these peoples? Is this not cruel? In order to understand this command, we must remember why God has called formed Israel. He has called Israel out to be a “holy nation,” “a royal priesthood.” In other words, Israel was called into existence for the express purpose of being a ministry to the world, a light to the nations.

God is setting up Israel to be different, to have a character unlike anything else in the world. In this, the other nations will see Israel’s life and begin to ask, “What makes these people so different,” and this will lead them to seeking after Yahweh. So, in truth, this conquest is actually for the world, but, in the meantime, others could not live with Israel for several reasons, but we will highlight two. First God wants Israel’s light to be clear. He wants this land to be full of holy people. He does not want a mix of people, for He wants to ensure others, when passing through, will know as soon as they reach this area that something is different. Second, Paganism, which was ubiquitous in all other cultures of the world, was too big a temptation for Israel, and threatened God’s Holy ministry.

So, why did God have to pick the land of the Canaanites? Why could the Israelites not find some nice place in the middle of nowhere? Well, the very purpose of their existence was to be noticed, to be in the midst of the world, but not of the world. While God did not want others settling in their midst, he still wanted Israel to interact with the world, and, in the Ancient Near East, Canaan, this little strip of land on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, was the crossroads of the world. All the world powers traveled through here to make trade. It was the perfect local for such a ministry. This was for the world, but first, Israel had to be established. At first, when Joshua was leading the conquest, Israel was very successful in completing the will of God for their lives, but things changed after His death.

When the book of Judges opens up, the Bible tells us that Israel had forgotten about their call. They had taken only part of the land, and they were satisfied with this. They had accepted as much of God’s promise as made them comfortable and had simply said, “No thanks,” to the rest. They wanted to have the gifts that God had promised without having to live the life God had asked them to live. Because they had forgotten God, He allowed them to feel the repercussions of living out from under his protection.

Across the Mediterranean, an Aegean Sea people were making their way to Canaan. These people were seeking a place to live as they were being displaced elsewhere. They landed on the coast of Canaan, and began to settle, which, again, was a big problem for the conquest of Israel. Moreover, they clashed with Israel. In the book of Judges, they especially clash with the Danites, Samson’s people. At this time, the Israelites are living a little inland, in the hill country. Each group is looking to expand, and each has something the other wants. The Philistines have the fertile land of the coast, and the Israelites have access to major trade routes and resources. Thus, these peoples were on a historical collision course, and the Philistines had the upper hand. They were effectively threatening the existence of the Israelites, and were well on their way to extinguishing the light God had sent to the world.

Israel was in need of a savior. So, God sent judges. These men and women where not judges in the sense of a modern judge, a person who presides over a court hearing, although Deborah does fulfill this role to some extent. Instead, these people are ad hoc military leaders, persons sent as heroes and heroines to deliver Israel from their enemies. There is one judge that this book spends an extended time focusing on, and he is the focus of our discussion here.

Samson’s story begins just before his birth. An angel of the Lord comes to Samson’s parents, and he tells his father and mother (Manoah and his wife), that, although Manoah’s wife is barren, they will conceive and have a son, and he will “begin” to deliver the Israelites from the Philistines (13:5). The angel also tells Samson’s parents that Samson is to be a Nazarite from birth (13:7). This is essential to understanding our story today.

As we have discussed, Israel was to be a “Holy” nation, set apart as a ministry for God to the world. Their lives were to be different, and God gave them the Torah, the law, to show them how to live. On top of these regulations, a Nazarite was to take an oath and limit himself or herself to yet three more regulations (see Numbers 6): 1) A Nazarite could not come in contact with a dead body of any kind. 2) A Nazarite could not partake of wine or liquor. In fact, he or she could not even eat grapes or raisins. 3) A Nazarite could not cut his or her hair. This would be a sign of being further set apart to the Lord for a special purpose. A Nazaritic oath was an outward sign of an inward relationship with God, and, just as an Israelite was to be a sign to the world of God’s work in the world, a Nazarite would serve as a special reminder, a ministry to Israel, reminding them that God is doing special things among them.

Usually, a person was not a life long Nazarite. The oath would only last for a set amount of time. Traditionally speaking, there were only three Nazarites in Scripture who were Nazarites from birth. Samson was the first. Samuel was the second, and John the Baptist was the third. Interestingly, all three of these men were born to barren women. Samuel was the priest that anointed David and introduced him to Israel. In other words, he was responsible for introducing the greatest king ancient Israel ever had. Pretty big deal, right? John the Baptist was the man who introduced Jesus to the world. Pretty big deal, right? In other words, this exclusive club Samson was in was for men who had a destiny of greatness in the ministry of God. So, what happened to Samson? His life did not quite measure up. It ends with him having his eyes gouged out by his enemies and a building falling on top of him. Perhaps our story today will help us figure this all out.

Now that we have all this information, we can now pull it all together and return to the story we read earlier to see if we can make sense of it. First, we know that Israel is in a dark place, in need of a savoir, and there real issue was not an all at once rebellion against God, but a slow forgetting of their purpose: “Israel frittered away its inheritance a little bit at a time. Before any claims of overt apostasy appear, the text impresses on the reader a process in which the nation simply compromised the divine. Before settling for something other than Yahweh’s covenant promises, Israel settled for something less than Yahweh’s covenant promises.”[2] What we are going to see in Samson’s life is more of the same. Samson was called to serve God by being a hero to the Israelites, one who would begin driving out the Philistines, but what we will see is a microcosm of Israel’s slows decent, as Samson also slowly forgets his place.

We begin right before our reading in Judges 14:5-9, with the speaking of the reason Samson is on the journey we find him on in our reading. He has demanded from his parents that they go arrange a marriage for him to a Philistine woman (Judges 14:1-4). Samson’s parents are distraught. They want him to marry an Israelite. This is not about race relations, but about putting one’s will before God. Samson’s parents know that marriage to a Philistine will mean that Samson will willingly bind himself to the very people that are lording over his people, the very people trying to snuff out the light of God to the world.  Samson is willing to compromise his calling and his people to have his desires. So, the story of Samson’s slow decline begins with this:

1.     Sin begins in the heart when we put our on wants in front of God’s will.

Now, we finally get back to the weird story of Samson and his eating honey out of the dead carcass of a lion. The first thing that we should note in this portion of the story is that, while Samson might have been on the path of putting self in front of God, God is still with him. The Scripture reports that while Samson was walking through the vineyards of Timnah, which must have been like the valley of temptation for a Nazarite that was not even allowed to eat a grape, a lion attacks Samson, and “the Spirit of the Lord” rushed on Samson so that he could kill the lion. In other words, Samson strength was not his own. God was his source of strength and his deliverer.

After the body had been decomposing a while, Samson passed back by alone, and decided he wanted to see the body. Now, he is forbidden by his Nazaritic oath to God to come in contact with a dead body. So, he is actively seeking temptation. He sees in the carcass of the lion something sweet. In the midst of that which is forbidden is something sweet. Samson is alone, and he probably thinks to himself, this is no big deal. No one will ever know; my Nazaritic testimony won’t be damaged because I am alone and I do not have to be accountable to anyone. The Scripture says he scrapes the honey out. He doesn’t just dab the honey; he scrapes it out.

2.     Sin that begins in the heart soon manifests when we are alone and no one is looking.

We are often tempted to think that our secret sins don’t matter. They do not hurt anyone. No one will know if I click on this link. No one will know if I harbor this bitterness. No one will know if I take this pill. Only I will know. And, often, like Samson, we think we get away with it. Samson even tempts fate by giving some honey to his parents. I bet he is being like the child who, upon doing something wrong, immediately goes to see if his parents can tell or if they know something. How they did not smell the dead carcass all over him, I will never know. It is like the kid that goes out smoking with friends. How do the parents not smell smoke all over them? Samson’s parents don’t say anything, and Samson assumes he is in the clear. This is why our story today is so important, because it is so common, and it is really the rest of the story that shows us that the little sins, like this one, lead to deeper and deeper decline.

So, what happens next, after our reading from Judges 14? Well, Samson goes on into Timnah, and he decides he will throw a party with the Philistines in celebration of his marriage. The English translations of Judges 14:10 obscures the real issue here. The word for party (or feast) here indicates a drinking party, a party of wine. Now, wine was not forbidden for the Israelites, but for a Nazarite like Samson, it was. Remember, drinking wine was so forbidden that he was to abstain from all forms of the vine, but now he is supplying a party of wine. The implication seems clear. Samson is a part of this party. He has already sinned in secret by breaking the oath of not touching a dead body. Now he is with the Philistines, partying with wine, breaking his second oath.

3.     What begins in the heart and moves to sinning in secret soon moves to hanging out with the wrong crowd.

I am sure Samson thought to himself. Well, no one at home will ever know about this. He is like a kid gone off to college for the first time. He is thinking to himself, well these people are already accustomed to party. I am not going to be a bad influence on them. They already do this. No one will get hurt.

And just like all muscle heads at a party, Samson begins to get cocky and starts acting stupid. He says to the Philistines: “Let me now put a riddle to you…Out of the eater came something to eat. Out of the strong came something sweet” (Judges 14:12,14) He is of course talking about the lion he killed, bragging cryptically, showing that he is actually growing arrogant in sin. He makes a bet, knowing the Philistines will have no clue how to figure out the riddle. He tells them that if they can crack the riddle, he will give them riches, but if they can’t, they have to give him riches. In their drunkenness, they agree. But, after they sober up, they realize that Samson is cheating them, and this leads to a long back and forth fight.

4.     What begins in the heart and moves to the secret places and on to the company of people who will only bring you down, eventually leads to pride, even in the midst of losing control.

Samson’s conflict leads to his wife first being given to another man, and then leads to her and her father being burned to death. It leads to the devastation of crops and to many deaths, but Samson is still thinking to himself, “At least this is not hurting anyone at home.” But, he is wrong. In Judges 15, the Philistines attack the Israelites. Now Samson’s sins have made it back home, and his people say to him in essence, “Samson, you are supposed to be our protector, but, instead, you have lead us into loss and ruin. We have to get rid of you.”

Samson allows his people to tie him up and deliver him to the Philistines. But, in the last moment, he breaks free, and he picks up a fresh jawbone of a donkey. Do you see how far he has come? It all started with him flirting with the forbidden, a dead corps, in secret, and then to partying off with the Philistines. Now, he is touching what is forbidden, he is sinning, in front of, not only the Philistines, but also his own people, the people of God. And what is worse, I believe in his mind he justifies his sin. He thinks, “I am about to die. I need a weapon. I have to touch this dead thing.”  Isn’t this how it happens. We finally get so caught up in sin that we take it home, and no matter how much it hurts those we love, we make excuses for doing what we will.

5.     What begins in the heart, moves to the secret places, then to being with the wrong crowd, eventually leads to be defiant in front of those that most love you, the people of God, and you eventually lose respect for even them.

So, now we finally get to the story of Delilah. Remember, Samson has already broken two of three oaths he has made with God. He has touched a dead body, twice, and become drunk. Now the Scripture recalls his allowing Delilah to cut his hair (Judges 16). He is not deceived. He knows that each time he tells her how to take his power, she tries, but he lies to her each time. Finally, he tells her if she cuts his hair, he will lose his power. Instead of protecting himself from her by getting away from her, he falls asleep. This is not just a physical sleep; he is spiritually asleep as well.

When he awakes, she has cut his hair, and listen to what he says: “I will go out as at other times, and shake myself free” (Judges 16:20). He has finally forgotten the source of his strength. Throughout the story, he asks God for strength, but now, he says, “I will…” This is why he lost his strength. The haircut is just a representation of the final step. His outward signs of his inward relationship with God were all gone, and he had, like Israel, finally forgotten God. The Scripture continues in v20 by saying: “But he did not know that the Lord had left him.”

6.     What begins in the heart, then with a secret sin that seems so insignificant, finally leads to forgetting God’s place in our lives.

There is a silver lining. It is never too late to repent and turn your situation around. After Samson loses his strength, the Philistines gouge out his eyes, and tie him up in a mill, and he spends his days grinding grain. As he is grinding grain he has time to reflect, and his hair begins to grow (16:22). This is a sign of his remembering his calling. He is brought into a building to be put on display in front of the Philistine elite. The room is full of men and women leading the campaign against the Israelites. They are mocking Samson. They feel they have one. Now, they will once and for all snuff out the light to the world.

Samson’s strength returns to him, and he pulls the building down upon himself and the Philistines, turning the tide for the Israelites. So, even in the midst of sin, God still accomplishes through Samson what He set out to accomplish. But, this does not mean Samson has had everything God intended for him. He is no Samuel or John the Baptist. The good news is that even when we do not live up to our calling, God’s ministry and purposes will still go on. God will win, but that does not mean that we have no reason to be spiritually obtuse.

We have a choice as God’s children. We can still do things our way, or we can choose to follow after God. The Scripture tells us that when we choose God, we will be given strength. Let’s go back to that passage in I Peter and keep reading: “Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world will suffer” (v9). The truth of the matter is that no matter what, we will face adversity. No matter what, Samson was going to face the Philistines in his life. The question is this: “How will you face your enemy?” Will you do like Samson, and try to go it alone. This only leads to misery. Or, will you stay steadfast in Christ. I Peter 5:10 tells us what the outcome will be if we choose to do it God’s way: “And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you.”

For Samson, his demise was not about a haircut, but about a slow decent of forgetting God, which started off with a seemingly insignificant sin. For Christians, Satan is like a lion, but he is really a dead lion. Christ has defeated sin on the cross, so the only way Satan can have power over you is if you give it to him, if you fall prey to his temptation. Again, it is easy to dismiss Peter’s words in the midst of what seems to be a small, insignificant sin, but next time you are tempted to think it won’t matter, I hope Samson’s story is etched on your mind. Therefore, choose to be vigilant, to remain spiritually awake, and to live in all the hope and strength that God wants to give you through Christ Jesus our Lord. AMEN.

 -TM

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[1] All Scripture cited from NRSV unless otherwise noted:

The New Revised Standard Version. Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the USA. 1989

[2] Lawson Stone: Philip W. Comfort, ed. Cornerstone Biblical Commentary: Vol. 3 (Carol Stream: Tyndale. 2012) p.222

“What Is Our Identity?” ...Expanded Transcript for Study

Transcript [i]

This is the transcript for the sermon I preached at Saint Simons Community Church (SSCC) on July 29, 2013 (Watch sermon here). I actually wrote the transcript after the sermon so that I might adapt it for reading and study. Therefore, it is not the exact wording I used in the sermon, but it is a close approximation, expanded somewhat for the sake of study clarity. Moreover, this sermon is part of a much larger project that I am working on tentatively called, “Surprised By Purpose: The Story of Our Identity.” I want to extend a special thanks to SSCC for allowing me the opportunity to share what God has placed on my heart.

[ii]

All Jason has in his possession is a bag with a few items from his past, and, as he looks them over for clues to his identity and reflects on the fragments of things that he can actually remember, he cannot help but feel a sense of dread, as if something is not quite right, beyond having amnesia of course. When we meet Jason Bourne, he is unconscious, set adrift in the Mediterranean Sea and left for dead. He is pulled aboard a fishing vessel. Upon being revived, he quickly realizes that He does not know who he is.

At this point, Jason is left with one of two options. He can take Marie’s advice, his newly found friend that we see him speaking with in the clip we just watched. She suggests that he is just paranoid; perhaps his amnesia is the result of an accident. He could just calm down, stop concerning himself with the past so much, and just get on with living life. Perhaps Jason could have gone back to the boat captain of the fishing vessel that saved his life, asked for a job, and perhaps he could have figured out his life in time, or even just started over.

This is not what Jason does. Instead, he chooses another option. He stays on his guard and fights to find out who he is, and, as the story unfolds, we find he makes the right decision. If he had convinced himself he was being paranoid and tried to forget about his past, his past would have soon caught up with him and ended his life. It turns out that Jason was a secret agent, and it was a botched mission that left him in the predicament he now found himself in. The agency that had sent him on the mission was out to wipe Jason Bourne from the scene of history, so that they might cover their tracks.

If you have ever heard the story of humanity told from the Christian worldview, you might hear something of Jason’s story echoed in ours. This is especially true when you are familiar with common testimonies of converted Christians. It goes something like this: “I awoke one day to realize that I did not know who I was, but there was something wrong.” As a matter of fact, the question, “Who am I?” is a question that humans have been asking as far back as our histories can remember. However, the Christian story does not stop with just this strange sense of a lack of identity. Instead, as I already noted, the question is coupled with a fear.

We awake to realize that we have a hole in our chest. We feel as if we are as good as dead. Even though we are not quite sure who we are, as we reflect on the fragmentary clues we do have, we end up feeling that sense of dread, and like Jason, we are faced with a choice. We can say to ourselves: “The past does not matter. I am my own man or woman. I can make my own identity. I’ll just start over.” And what does the Christian story say will happen? Soon enough our sin will catch up with us and drag us down. That agency, Sin, that has left us lost, is out to finish the job.

Now, this is really where our story diverges from Jason’s. Jason has no help, and he has to go fight for his identity alone. Sure, he has met Marie, but she is just as lost as Jason. She is having an identity crisis of her own. She might not have amnesia, but she is a drifter that cannot even get her visa straightened out. To know what happens to Jason and Marie, you will have to watch the movie. For us looking at the story of humanity from the Christian perspective, the Bible story tells us that we cannot fight for ourselves. In fact, sin has not simply left us for dead, like Jason was left for dead. In a real sense, we are already dead in our sin. But, there is still a fight for your identity, and that is the story the Bible tells us.

The Bible is not merely so, but it is the story of us, the story of the fight for our identity. It informs us about our past and how we got to where we are now. One of my favorite theologians, John Wesley, once said, “If I were to write the story of my life, I should start before I was born,” and that is where the Bible begins: in the beginning, which is a good place to start if you ask me. So, that is going to be our task for the rest of this message, to tell the story, but, in order to be able to do so, we must get over what I like to call Sunday School Syndrome.

Sunday School Syndrome is not limited to those programs that are explicitly labeled “Sunday School.” It can be any program that is dedicated to bringing a small group of believers together for a limited amount of time to discuss the Word of God. If you have ever been a part of such a program, and even more so if you have ever been a leader or teacher of such a program, you might get a better sense for what I am about to say.

Teachers and leaders of such programs often feel obligated to have a succinct and comprehensive message that wraps up by the end of the talk. You don’t want to leave the group feeling as if they did not get anything out of the study. So, we rush over to stories in Scriptures like David and Goliath, and we pull out some moral nugget and say, “Now, go and live it out.” After years and years of this, we end up with a bunch of stories in our head. We know about Noah and Jesus and Adam and Eve and Lazarus and Moses and Paul and Gideon and Elisha and Elijah and Rahab. The list goes on.

I got very good at telling the stories of Scripture, but I realized one day that I could not tell the story of Scripture. How did all these people impact each other, or did they? Is the Bible just a collection of Ancient Near Eastern fables or is it a bigger story. I began to ask myself this question as I was leaving for seminary, and it was not some sort of moral quest for me. I just thought to myself, “You know, you’re going to be in ministry one day. You better learn this stuff so you don’t get caught with your pants down.”

You know what I found out? I found out that it was a bigger story, and it was not just a story of an ancient past. It was my story, a story that has defined my life, and it is the story we are now going to tell. But, since this is such a big task, we will have to give ourselves some boundaries boundary, lest I wander down every rabbit trail there is. To keep us on task, we are going to end our conversation by answering a question about Matthew 28:18-20. How this relates to the story of our identity will become apparent in a moment. This is, as you are already probably very aware, the Great Commission:

And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Notice what Jesus does not say here. He does not say, “Now behold my Great Commission: All authority in heaven and on earth…” No. It is the Church that has through the ages called this passage, “The Great Commission,” and we have to ask ourselves, what makes it so great?

Another question that we must ask that goes along with the first is this: “How do we go from waking up one day with that hole in our chest, realizing we are as good as dead, to the place where we can believe such a calling from Christ is possible?” Indeed it would have to be a great commission if it implies what it seems to imply: that we can be His disciples, that we can be God’s right-hand men and women.

In order to answer that question, we go back to the beginning, specifically that part of the creation account when God begins to create us, Genesis 1:27 and 28. I am often humored by the modern usage of these two verses. These are two very well known passages in the Bible, but they are seldom told together as they are written.

Verse 27, naturally enough, is used to speak about our identity. In essence, you were made in the image of God. The text says, “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” Of course we all know the caveat of the fall, but we use this verse to speak about what God did in the beginning. However, we never seem to ask the question, “Why?” God created many other things, but humans He made to bear His image. Why?

The answer to that question we should get by moving quickly over to the next verse, but often we just end the discussion there. Genesis 1:28 says, “God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.’” There is our answer, but v 28 shows up in a different discussion altogether. Of course we love that first part about being fruitful and multiplying. That sounds fun, but we then take the discussion to some strange places, like population control.

Something to this effect is said: “The world is filling up with people. Should we keep having babies?” To which the reply comes: “Well the Bible says, “be fruitful and multiply,’ so keep it up.” Now, this verse might have something to say to this modern conversation. I don’t know, but I do have to imagine that when the writer was inspired to write this those thousands of years ago, he wasn’t thinking, “You know what? People a few thousand years from now will be wondering what to do when the world starts to fill up with people, so I better write this now.”

Let’s do ourselves a favor and place this verse in the context in which it was written, that is in conjunction with v 27. What happens when we pull them together? What does the text say? Verse 27 says that you were made in the image of God, and, then, in v 28, God commands you to be fruitful and multiply. In other words, God in essence says, “You are made in my image. Now, go and fill the earth with my image.” This is where the story of our identity starts. We are called to fill the earth by being image bearers, and what is God’s image: Among other things, it is goodness. We were meant to fill the earth with God’s goodness.

Soon enough we get to Genesis 3, the story of the fall. We all know the story. It is another story affected by the Sunday School Syndrome. Out of context it is simply a story with an apple—at least that is the fruit we have chosen to depict—a snake, a tree, and two naked people that whenever a snapshot is taken of them, they are in perfect alignment with tree limbs and bushes to have their private bits covered up. It all seems sort of silly. We want to laugh at it. But, when you place this story into the context of the bigger story, it is so frightening that it can take your breath away.

Paul commenting on sins entrance into human history said in Romans 3:23: “…all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Scholars tell us that, especially when speaking about God, the word glory can be interchanged with the world image, since God’s image is glorious. So, what is Paul saying? He is saying that we have all fallen short of the image of God, that image we were meant to carry out into the world. In other words, we have all fallen short of our privilege as image bearers. Like any good story, there is conflict, and this is where the story of our identity becomes the story for the fight for our identity.

At this point in the story, I am going to need a favor from you. I know that you probably already know much more is going to happen before we get to a solution for sin. You know we have to meet Jesus before we get close to a solution, but you also probably know how to suspend what you know to enjoy the tension of the story being told. You know how it is when you are watching that movie with that great car chase scene you have seen a thousand times. You know what happens, but you are still on the edge of your seat, worried for the hero, asking yourself, “Will he make it?” You are able to do this, because you are able to suspend what you know to enjoy the story.

So, for the rest of this discussion, as you watch the story of the Bible unfold on the theatre screen of your mind, pretend that you do not already know the end of the story and enjoy the story as it is meant to be heard. We are now at Genesis 6. Here we are introduced to Noah, but before we talk about Noah, let’s talk about the world in which Noah lived. The Bible tells us that humanity did begin to multiply (see v 1), but that humanity was wicked (v 5). Do you see the literary awe here? Now, what we have been studying so far is surely real history, but it is artfully and frighfully told.

In Genesis 1:28, we are told to fill the earth with God’s goodness, and only five chapters to follow, what have we done? We have filled the earth with wickedness. Do you see the juxtaposition here? Do you see the sheer magnitude of the conflict that the Bible is telling us about? We are so broken, so fallen, that we are doing the exact opposite from that for which we were created. We need a hero, and onto the scene of history walks Noah, a man that the Bible says was a righteous man (v 9). In fact, compared to all other people of his time, Noah was seen as blameless. Perhaps he is the key, right? God wipes the earth clean from all others, save Noah and his progeny. Maybe he can raise children that will raise children that will fill the earth and glorify God.

We now turn to Genesis 11:1-9.  By this point in Scripture, much time has passed between Noah’s story and the story being told here. It is the story of Noah’s offspring. By this time, the world has repopulated, enough to have the amount of people needed to begin civilizing yet again, and are they filling the earth with God’s glory? Genesis 11:4 tells us that while humans were indeed busy with projects to shape the world, they were trying to create for their own glory, the glory of fallen and selfish man, not God. Can you feel the tension build? Even from the most righteous of men come a people that are falling short of their calling. If the most righteous of men cannot raise up a people to fulfill God’s task, has God’s plans failed?

In Genesis 12 we meet Abraham for the first time, at this point called Abram, and this is were the story starts to turn towards hope. This is were God steps in and becomes a controlling character in the story of the redemption of our identity. Upon calling Abraham out to follow Him, Yahweh reveals why He has chosen this man:

Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (vv 1-3)

While in Genesis 1 God had called humanity out to ensure the earth was blessed with His glory, here He begins to proclaim how He will ensure the success of that mission. Notice that God does not scrap the human project. Instead, He enters it as the insurance for its success. Notice the echoes of Genesis 1: In Genesis 1:27 and 28 God plans for humans to multiply, and upon doing so they will bless the world. Here Abraham’s seed will become many and through this nation, all the nations of the world will be blessed, and any one who tries to get in the way of this mission, God will see to it that they are dealt with.

Moreover, God does not just make any promise with Abraham; He cuts a covenant with Him. In Genesis 15, Abraham is looking for some assurance, and God tells Abraham to gather some animals. Abraham does so. He cuts them in half, and awaits God. Time does not permit me to go into great detail, but what happens here is a covenant ritual. A covenant is the entering into of relationship, and the covenant itself stipulates what is expected from each party. As we see in this ritual, it is God, not Abraham, that is the main participant, as he, represented by a torch and oven, passes through the blood of the sacrifice. This was a sign that said: “I will die to keep my promise.” In other words, God binds His very life to Abraham’s, and Abraham’s children. His willingness to die is a foreshadowing of the cross, but we are getting ahead of ourselves. (For further understanding of covenant, specifically the covenant with Abraham, click here.)

So, again, suspending what we know, if we were reading this for the first time, we might be able to sit back and relax, especially after that whole big wait for Abraham to start having children. When he does, we must let out a sigh of relief, right? God says Abraham’s children will be the ones to right the ship, right? We would think so, but when the book of Exodus opens, Abraham’s children are enslaved in Egypt. The story quickly picks up in Exodus with Moses (Exodus 2 cf), who delivers God’s people out of Egypt.

Moses leads the people of God to Mount Sinai, and starting in Exodus 19, Yahweh begins to reveal His law to Moses and consequently the people of Israel. Perhaps this is the answer. Perhaps this is how God is going to bind Himself to Israel, through the revelation of the law, His revealed will. Noah, he was a good man, but He had no guideline, no way to teach His children the righteousness that seemed to come so easy to him. He just wasn’t a good teacher. That’s the real issue, right? But, now we have the law. Now we can just go through our checklist and do A, B, C, and D, and presto, we will usher in the glory of God upon the earth.

Is this what happens to Israel after the giving of the law? Sadly, it is not. Instead, we simply fast-forward to Numbers 14. Here those who have received the law are called to trust in the Lord, and instead they rebel, and in their rebellion, they are punished by having to wander the wilderness for forty years. And this is sort of the story for Israel that repeats time and time again. They are given grace. God picks them up. They are excited and do well for a time, and then, they fall into rebellion.

Now we get to I Samuel 16, the anointing of King David. Sure they had the law, but they were a loose confederation of tribes with no real oversight. They had the judges for a time, but no central head. Now comes a king, David. Now the tribes of Israel are unified. We have someone to uphold the law, to oversee. And, in David’s day, things seem to go pretty well. A monarchy is born, but even David is concerned that this might not last forever, so we get to the conversation that God has with David in II Samuel 7:1-17. This is actually another covenant, made with David this time.

David had asked God if he could build him a house. You see, David was thinking to himself, “We need to ensure God stays put.” We have a land now; now all we need to do is keep God here and we are good. So, let’s build a temple. God chastises David and in essence is saying, “David, you are not the one to ensure the success of Israel. I am, and I tell you what: I will build you a house.” Now God is playing with terms here. David was talking about a physical house, but Yahweh is speaking of a household, a lineage. In vv 12-17, God speaks of one to come who will rule forever, one who will bring peace.

Now, again, we should be able to sit back and relax. God promises David right here that His dynasty will be an everlasting one, and, since David is on the throne, well, does it not stand to reason that it can only go up from here? David’s rule goes pretty smoothly. His son, Solomon, does a decent job. After that, Israel is in civil war. David is not gone for anytime before his nation is split in two, and it never fully recovers.

By the middle of II Kings at chapter 17, the Northern nation, called Israel, is conquered and exiled under the Assyrians. Judah in the south is still there. Perhaps they will be able to hold it together. But, by the end of II Kings at chapters 24 and 25, they too are conquered, this time by the Babylonians, and exiled. Forget the Davidic monarchy. There is no nation, let alone a throne. God has failed, has he not?

In this dark time arises men called prophets, and they are still talking about this one to come from David. If you are an Israelite looking over your past and you hear these men talking about the one to come, you have to be thinking to yourself, “These prophets have been out in the sun too long. They have lost their minds.” How is one to come from David if there is no real monarchy? And, have we not seen men called out, and each time they seem not quite able to do it. But, the prophets continue the foretelling of this one to come.

The prophecies abound, but there are a few that I wish to highlight, because they reveal something of the Messiah that is especially important in the context of this discussion. The first two come from Isaiah. In chapters 11 and 61 the prophet tells of one to come who will carry with him the Spirit of God. In chapter 11 the prophet continues the theme of the lineage of David (v 1).  The Spirit of God will direct his life (vv2-5). This one to come will bring peace (vv 6-9). Finally, he will be a blessing to the nations through his glory (v 10). Can you hear the echo?  God plans through this man to bless the nations through His glory. Chapter 61 is like 11. Here the Messiah speaks of his purpose for being anointed with the Spirit of God. He will bear the Spirit so that he might bring peace.

Daniel 7: 13 and 14 is another interesting prophecy of this one that is to come. The Scripture says that he comes like “a Son of Man” (KJV). In other words, this Messiah comes as a human being, and he goes before the Ancient of Days, God, and to him is given “glory;” we’ve heard that word a few times now. In other words, he will bear God’s image, right? He is given power and “dominion.” We have heard that word too, right. In Genesis 1 we are given dominion. Here now is one who is supposedly going to come and lead the right way (as we see in the NT, Jesus’ mode of leadership is service). What is God thinking? Yet, another human being… Haven’t we seen that we cannot seem to get the job done?

The Old Testament ends with no real resolution. The prophets’ voices drop off the scene of history, and this Messiah is nowhere in sight. When the Old Testament comes to a close, the Israelites are back in their homeland, but they are not in control. Other empires rule over them. It would seem that if they were ever to resurrect the monarchy, a revolt must take place and succeed. A Messiah must rise up to lead the people yet again out of captivity. But, for 400 years, nothing…

Nevertheless, onto the scene of human history walks Jesus of Nazareth, and the last of the Old Testament prophet types, John the Baptist, introduces Christ’s ministry by speaking of Christ as the one who baptizes with the Spirit (Matthew 3:11, Mark 1:8; Luke 3:16; John 1:33). Now this adds a new dimension to the discussion. Not only is Christ the one that bears the Spirit, He plans to pour His Spirit out, to wash us in the Spirit, to baptize in the Spirit. In case there is any confusion about Christ’s thoughts upon His own mission, He quotes Isaiah 61, now speaking of Himself (Luke 4:18). He sees Himself as Messiah, the one with the Spirit of God.

But, there is a problem: Every time Christ has the opportunity to raise up an army in revolt of the powers that be, He doesn’t. He claims that this is not why He is here, even though that was the explicit expectation of Messiah, and He certainly saw Himself as Messiah. Perhaps He should have read His Bible. Paul comments on Christ’s strange behavior in His first advent in Philippians 2:5-8. Here Paul states that while Christ was (and is) fully God and fully man, when He came in His first advent, He gave up His divine power for a time, and He subjected Himself to human limitations. He became a slave.

If you are still with me, and you are enjoying the story as it is being told, watching it on the theatre screen of your mind, you might want to stand up and scream, “Jesus, don’t do it. Don’t be like me. Don’t come as a human. Haven’t you read the Old Testament? Every time God calls out humans, we either drop the ball, or we just can’t quite get there. How does He respond? He comes to tie all these seemingly loose ends together. Jesus says, in essence, “I am going to show you that it can be done. I am going to show you how to live the human life as it is meant to be lived.” And how does He live?  He lives in full submission to God.

What does He say? He says in John 5:19 that He does nothing on His own. He only does what He sees the Father doing. Moreover, notice how He says He performs miracles, such as exorcism. In Matthew 12:28, He does not say, “If I by my own divine powers do this.” Instead, He says, “If I by the Spirit of God…” Remember, He gave up His divine rights to live like us, to be like you and me, so that He could show us a better way.

And how do we respond? We say, “Yes, Jesus. We see, but, you are without sin. We have to bear its weight.” And Jesus says, “I know, and that is why I am going to die for you. I am going to take on your sin so that you might bear my Spirit. I am going to die so that I might pour out my image upon you. We are now approaching the answer to our question that we asked nearer the beginning of this discussion: “How can the Great Commission be so great? How can we go from lost, as good as dead individuals, who are then called to be God’s right-hand men and women in His mission?”

Hebrews 1:3 tells us something of what Christ accomplished once He died and was resurrected. It tells us that after He had defeated sin, He once again sat at the right hand of the Father. There is now a difference in Christ’s work and all the other works God did through men to lead to this point in time. No longer are we looking forward to a promise to come, a “One day, it will come to pass” scenario. Instead, we are now looking back. Christ has won. He has defeated sin. So, now He is no longer the Messiah who is going to do something. He is the Risen King that has done it.

So, we can return back to Matthew 28:18-20 and understand what Christ means when He says of Himself that He has been given all power and authority. He has guaranteed our victory. He has made it possible for us to bear His image again through the gift of the Holy Spirit. This is what He means when He says that He will be with us always. He is calling us out to be disciples, and what is a disciple? Let’s look to John 15:8: “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.” We bring God glory? Do you hear the echo? We are those that bear the fruits of the Spirit. In other words, we bear the image of God.

The Great Commission says to us: You are disciples, those who bear the image of God, therefore, make disciples. Again, do you hear the echo? Genesis 1:27 and 28 says we are image bearers made to multiply that image in the world. Here Jesus says, you are disciples, image bearers, now multiply. Here we are, being restored to our image through Christ, and He gives us a call to “Go,” and make His image multiply yet again. What are we to do when we are called to go? Hebrews 11:8 tells us that when Abraham was told to “go,” in faith He went. You are called to go, what will you do?

The Scripture tells us that the canon is closed. In other words, the Scriptures will not have anything else written in them, but, while the canon is closed the story it tells is still open. In fact, it is a story that you are invited into. How will you respond?

-TM

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[i] All Scripture cited from NRSV unless otherwise noted:

The New Revised Standard Version. Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the USA. 1989

[ii] The Bourne Identity. Dir. Doug Liman. Perf. Matt Damon, Franka Potente. Universal, 2002. DVD.