Trinity + 1

Ezekiel chapter one records a vision of God’s glory.  At first, we are struck by the theatrics of the vision: a windstorm, fire, thunder, wheels covered with eyes….  Yet, there is something about this vision of glory we will miss if we go no deeper than the special effects (1 Kings 19:11-13).  In the midst of the fire, Ezekiel sees four living creatures.  Each has the face of a man, a lion, a calf, and an eagle. All move as one:  “Each one went straight ahead.  Wherever the spirit would go, they would go, without turning as they went” (Ezek. 1:12).

In glory, nothing originates in self, no one moves independently.  All proceed by one Spirit.  One creature doesn’t fly off on its own while another roars and runs around.  Sometimes they all fly, and sometimes they all roar “Holy, holy, holy,” but whatever they do, they do by one Spirit (Ezek. 1:19; Rev. 4:8).   This is a reflection of God’s unity and of the selfless fellowship that defines the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  The unity of God is not a unity of sameness.  The members of the Godhead are as individual as the creatures.  Yet none of them lives to Himself.  None moves based on His prerogative or power as God.  Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing out from himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing” (John 5:19).  In saying this, Jesus was not referring to His human dependence on God.  He was speaking about the divine nature.  In the same vein, He said of the Spirit, “He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears” (John 16:13).  This could not possibly refer to the Spirit’s human dependence on God for the Spirit never became man as did the Son.  The glory of God, then, is marked by a fundamental denial of self and preferring of others.

            Dependence on God is not primarily a function of human need.  God has none of our needs yet each member of the Godhead operates interdependently.  It is important for us to see that we have not just been called to eternal neediness.  We have been called into glory, to live as members of God Himself.  Perhaps this is why Ezekiel sees four living creatures.  By grace, we have been added to the Trinity and to the flow of life between them!

Adullam

“And everyone who was in distress, and everyone who was in debt, and everyone who was bitter in soul, gathered to [David].  And he became captain over them” (1 Sam. 22:2).

“Come to me, all who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest….” (Matt. 11:28).

The kingdom of Jesus has its origins in rejection, in being ostracized and marginalized.  Jesus was buried in a cave “outside the camp”—without religious acceptance or social standing—just as David was driven to the cave at Adullam, dogged by rumors of treason and disgrace.  Adullam means, “rest” or “refuge.”  We come to Jesus burdened by stress, debt, or disillusionment; we are disenfranchised; we lack status or privilege; we are not the world’s best or brightest; we may be looked down on or treated dismissively (1 Cor. 1:26-28).  But we come, and we find a place with Jesus.  He doesn’t throw us out of consider us second class.  He accepts us, gives us refuge from whatever past we have left, and forms us into a society.  We no longer need to be burdened by our bad rep, our most embarrassing moment, our poor business sense, or the crushing failures that have made us give up on the world.  Jesus loves us.  His love gives us rest from all these things.  

Jesus is one of us.  He is the original reject (1 Peter 2:4, 5).  He is not ashamed to call us brothers (Heb. 2:11).  He becomes captain over us.  He claims us as His own.  A captain and his soldiers are a unit.  They have a common life and identity.  We have a common life and identity with Jesus, from which He doesn’t shrink but embraces without reservation or secret misgivings.  

“…and whoever comes to me I will never drive away” (John 6:37).

Who's in Charge Here?

“As long as the son of Jesse lives on this earth, neither you nor your kingdom will be established.  Now send and bring him to me, for he must die!” (1 Sam. 20:31)

            Who will be in charge?  Who will rule?  This is the question put to us by this verse.  This exchange happens between Saul and Jonathon, Saul’s son and presumptive heir to the throne.  They both understand that kingship is at stake yet have responded in entirely different ways: Saul sought David’s life while Jonathon loved David as himself (1 Sam. 18:1). 

            Galatians 5:17 says, “For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the spirit, and the spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature.  They are in conflict….”  We can see this conflict embodied in Saul and David: Saul illustrates the sinful nature, that which rejects God’s word and refuses to yield control even when shown that God has anointed and given rule to another.  David shows us to whom God has given that rule—Christ, the Son of David.  Saul and David co-existed for a time, David fighting on Saul’s behalf and gaining victories for him.  The enmity was latent, unknown to either, until it became a question of who would be king.  Then conflict came exploding into the open, Saul flying into sudden, murderous rages.  Our flesh, too, may co-exist with Christ peaceably enough, as long as Jesus is a benefit and helps us overcome those things we are willing to let Him conquer.  But should Jesus make any gesture toward actually ruling us, we unravel and plunge into ugly reactions as we storm to hold onto what was never ours.
            It is a fearful thing to read about Saul and to see Saul within.  How can such an intractable, God-hating enemy as self ever be unseated?  There is hope in Saul’s very words to Jonathon: “As long as the son of Jesse lives on this earth, neither you nor your kingdom will be established.”  Saul thought he was pronouncing a death sentence on David but it was actually on himself and the rule of self symbolized by him.  For Hebrews says, “Because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood.  Therefore, he is able to save completely those who come to God through him….” (Heb. 7:24, 25).  As long as Jesus lives—and He lives forever—neither self nor its rule can be established.  Even if it appears Jesus has been run out of town—as when Saul hunted David—He will eventually bring us under His government through the power of His indestructible life (Heb. 7:16).

An Oldie But a Goodie

I decided to repost this:

Household Jesus

Ephesians chapter one confronts us with One who existed before creation, who encompasses every spiritual blessing, in whom God consummated all times, places, and realms. When considering such a cosmic Christ, it is tempting to wonder how relevant He is to our daily lives. But the real question is: How relevant are we to God? That Christ is the beginning and end must deeply affect us. God will never be relevant to us until we realize that there is no relevance outside of Him.

           As Paul shares, he seems to run out of breath. No words in any language can encompass the One He has seen by revelation. Is our own vision of Christ so breathtaking? Or are we more interested in a small Jesus that mostly helps us live our own lives but doesn’t take us captive to His vision and purpose? The Old Testament speaks of “household gods,” idols set up in a small shrine in the home. If one wished to rearrange the furniture or move to another house, the gods could be picked up and placed where one wished. They were at the disposal of the family who owned them, and their purpose was to ensure the health and prosperity of the household. This is probably the sort of Jesus many want and have—a Jesus that stays in His place, that we can take wherever we wish, whose purpose centers on us, on our plans and desires. Whatever can be said about this household Jesus, we cannot say it is the Jesus of the New Testament. For the Jesus of the New Testament—the One who is before all things, in whom all things hold together—says, “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. Where is the house you will build for me?” (Col. 1:17; Isaiah 66:1, 2). Anyone who has encountered Christ as He is understands they will occupy a place in His house, that He is free to pick them up and take them wherever He wishes, that their life exists for His purpose and desires.

Full of Glory

Below is an excerpt from a booklet about Ezekiel that I'm almost done with.

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The popular view of heaven as part utopia, part family reunion, is not entirely unbiblical.  But it tends to make personal wish fulfillment the focus of salvation instead of Christ.  In fact, we could go so far as to say that for some, Christ is little more than the means by which their wishes will be fulfilled in the afterlife.  Heaven is also presented as a reward for good behavior, a place where we are finally free from suffering.  In the world to come, we will be freed from all forms of suffering caused by the effects of sin in this fallen world (Rev. 21:4).  But we will not be freed from glory, from the self-sacrificing, other-centered fellowship that is the divine nature.  Participating in the divine nature IS salvation (2 Peter 1:4).  If we haven’t had self-motivation eradicated but have only behaved until our desires are finally gratified in heaven, from what have we been saved?  By contrast, God has much more in mind than simply rewarding us.  He wants all things to be full of glory, to be permeated by that selfless inter-relating—“For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD as the waters cover the sea” (Habakkuk 2:14). 

            What do we mean when we talk of all things being full of glory?  Let’s put it this way: imagine a world where every last thing is Christ: every river, every stone, every blade of grass.  This is something like what Ezekiel’s third vision shows us.  Christ is the temple, the altar, and the offering. He is the priest presenting the offering, He is the sacrificial flesh eaten by those who minister.  He is the land and each inheritance marked out.  He is the 12 tribes and the nation of Israel.  His Spirit is the river that makes everything live as it flows past trees of all kinds, which trees He is.  “Christ is all, and is in all” (Col. 3:11).  There is nothing in what Ezekiel sees that is not Christ.  And this is where God has placed us.  This is the One into whom we have been baptized (1 Cor. 1:30, 12:13).  Despite the conditions through which we sojourn, despite the lack of Christ we see around us and in us every day, God would have us know that our reality, the place where we live and move and have our being, is precisely this place where there is nothing but Christ, where Christ is the elemental composition of everything, where He is the length, the height, the breadth, and the depth (Eph. 3:18).

Excerpt from "Micah: Who Is Like Yah?"

I just finished a booklet about Micah & posted the link on the right.  Below is an excerpt.

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           The name Micah means, “Who is like Yah?”  Micah’s prophecy shows how God’s grace abounds in Christ and utterly swallows up sin, death, and Satan.  Yah is short for Yahweh, the name of God meaning, “I Am” (Exodus 3:14).  Jesus is the living image and fulfillment of this name of God, in all its significance—“I am [the Messiah],” “I am the bread of life,” “I am the light of the world,” “I am the good shepherd,” “I am the resurrection and the life,” “I am the way, and the truth, and the life,” “I am the true vine,” “I am a king,” “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”[1]  In these and similar statements, Jesus shows that He brings this name of God to completion in endless ways.  In view of God’s great salvation through Christ, we can only answer that there is no one like Yah—no one as majestic in holiness, as awesome in glory, or working such wonders as the death and resurrection of Jesus (Ex. 15:11).

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[1] John 4:25-26, 6:35, 8:12, 10:11, 11:25, 14:6, 15:1, 18:37; Rev. 22:13.

The Sufficiency of Our Passover Lamb

The following is an excerpt from a booklet I'm working on entitled, "Ezekiel: The Glory of the Lord."

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            Ezekiel received his final vision of glory on the 10^th day of the first month (Ezek. 40:1).  This was a significant day because it was the day faithful Israelites would select a lamb for Passover (Ex. 12:2, 3).  For four days they would feed and care for the lamb, then sacrifice it, apply its blood to their houses, and eat its roasted flesh with bitter herbs (Ex. 12:6-8).           

As we have said, the Lord called Ezekiel to minister to the captives in Babylon.  By giving Ezekiel this third vision at the beginning of Passover, the Lord wasn’t promising a new exodus from Babylon.  Instead, He was pledging that the first exodus from Egypt was sufficient.  Their deliverance, their setting apart as a peculiar nation, their covenantal joining to Him—none of it had changed in God’s mind.  The Passover Lamb was still the only salvation Israel would ever need, as complete and efficacious as the day they left Egypt.  Because of the lamb, and not Israel’s faithfulness, they would be restored to the temple, the city, and the land from which they were exiled. 

            For us, the death of our Passover Lamb, Jesus, is the only deliverance we will ever need (1 Cor. 5:7, 8).  His death joined us to God through a new covenant in His blood.  If we find that we have wandered from God, if we find ourselves in some sort of captivity because we have followed the self-preferring of the fallen nature, we don’t need a new deliverance.  We need only remember that the deliverance wrought through the cross is as effective and sufficient today as it ever was.  Because of Christ, none of God’s thoughts toward us have changed.  His love is constant. “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Heb. 5:16). 

Excerpt from "Haggai: Feast"

This blog now has links to booklets I have written.  The following is an excerpt from "Haggai: Feast," which is part of a collection called "The Spirit of Prophecy."

Go Up!

The Lord’s aim in sending Haggai was not merely to criticize His people but to lead them in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake (Psalm 23:3).  To that end, He instructed them: “Go up into the mountains and bring down timber and build the house, so that I may take pleasure in it and be honored” (Hag. 1:8).  To end the famine of self-interest, the people needed to put the honor of the Lord and of His house first.

We too must “go up” and fellowship with God.  “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God….  For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:1, 3).  If Christians want to find the fullness of life Jesus promised, we must put aside our “houses,” our wills, our purposes, and come to the feast above—the communion table of Christ.  As we sit with Him, He will transform our captive thinking by renewing our minds, and we will no longer conform to the pattern of this world (Rom. 12:2).  Instead, we will give ourselves up because we are eating, and drinking, and internalizing the Person who gave Himself for the life of the world (John 6:51-53). 

            As the Lord gives Himself in us, we participate in His ministry to His bride: “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish” (Eph. 5:25-27).  We do not go up for ourselves, for our own spiritual development.  We go up so that we can give ourselves up to build the Lord’s house.  Many of us who are dissatisfied with our own lives also complain that the church isn’t meeting our needs.  Instead of viewing the body as those whom we are called to build up through personal sacrifice, we view it as one more vendor of personal satisfaction.  We bring all our self-centered, captivity thinking with us then blame the church when our expectations aren’t met.  But if we are not giving ourselves to make the church a vibrant, living body where Christ is pleased and honored, who will?  Shall we blame church leadership for our mediocre church experience?  Is it the job of leadership to supply a product that meets the demands of a congregation of consumers?  No, if church is not what we think it should be, we have no one to blame but ourselves.

            Paul certainly didn’t view church as a place to get: “When you come together, everyone has a hymn, or a word of instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation.  All of these must be done for the strengthening of the church” (1 Cor. 14:26).  This is the fulfillment of Haggai’s prophecy: a gathering of people who have all gone up and have brought back materials with which to build the Lord’s house.  Only in such a house as this—where life is truly flowing from the head and between the members—will the Lord take pleasure and be honored.

That He Might Fill All Things

My life, like the lives of many other people, is full of activities, interests, responsibilities.  Sometimes I worry that this reflects a lack of interest in God and that perhaps my heart is set on the things of this world moreso than on Him.  As I entertained this concern recently, God brought Ephesians 4:10 to mind: “He who descended is he who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things.”  As the Lord spoke this verse to my heart, I could see Him filling everything in my life.  Reality under the old covenant (before Christ dealt with sin) was one where God only filled the temple in Jerusalem.  He remained behind the veil while we lived our lives outside of it.  But reality under the new covenant is that Christ fills all things with His resurrection life. 

Despite the divine fact of Christ’s resurrection, we often continue to live our lives according to an old covenant mentality.  My anxiety over the various activities and interests in my life is a classic example of this contradiction.  Subconsciously, I continue to think that I’m “with God” when doing specifically religious activities like praying, going to a church service, or performing ministry.  But when occupied with non-religious activities, I classify that as “not with God” time.  In my own mental universe, I have neatly divided sacred and secular.  I have relegated God to my own, self-styled temple complete with a veil which divides when I am with Him and when I am not.  But this veil is only in my mind, and is the veil of unbelief that persists in the absence of God’s revelation (2 Cor. 3:15-18).  For in Christ, the veil is taken away (2 Cor. 3:14).

            Does this mean that sin and selfishness don’t exist and we can throw caution to the wind?  Not at all.  As we pursue various opportunities and interests each day, what separates a life filled by Christ and a life too full for Christ?  Quite simply, it is the cross that does this.  Before Jesus ascended and filled all things, He descended into the grave.  The filling of all things by Christ’s resurrection life depended on the taking of old things to the grave.  We too must descend into Christ’s grave by the revelation of the Spirit (Rom. 6:3-5).  Our experience must be infused with the reality of the cross by the action of the Spirit.  Otherwise, personal passions and desires will fill everything we do.  But Galatians 5:24 says, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.”  If, by revelation, the Spirit has brought us to Christ’s cross, and if we have descended with Him, then for us all things will be filled with the Risen One instead of with us.

The Better Thing: Jesus

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” 

(Matt. 11:28-30).

            Who is Jesus inviting into His rest in these verses?  Perhaps we first think of non-believers, burdened by sin, needing the rest that can only come from knowing Jesus.  This is certainly true.  But Jesus is especially addressing disciples in this verse, for no one can know Him or find rest unless they first take His yoke.  It is the church, the yokefellow of Christ, that most needs to take these words to heart.

            We have accepted a great self-deception in the church: we have made salvation the finish line instead of the starting line.  Based on this faulty premise, we neatly divide humanity into two groups: those who know the Lord (us) and those who don’t (the world).  While this is partly true, it isn’t the whole picture.  As followers of Jesus, we are called disciples.  The word disciple means, “learner.”  We need to know the Lord just as much as non-believers.  Now that we have taken Jesus’s yoke, we are learning Him.  Now that we are born again, we are growing into a mature man (Eph. 4:13).  The evidence that we are knowing Him and are maturing in Him is that we are entering into His rest (Heb. 4:3, 10).

            But have we really laid down our wearisome burdens?  Or have we just exchanged them for others?  Perhaps some lay down the burden of sin only to take up the burden of religious behavior.  Perhaps the pressure to achieve is merely redirected toward ministry rather than left on the cross.  Maybe we give up the responsibility of pleasing man only to take on the responsibility of pleasing God.  And instead of “keeping up with the Jones-es” maybe we drive ourselves to keep up with whatever church has a book on the bestseller list (Eph. 4:14).  Jesus said of the Pharisees, “They tie up heavy loads and put them on men’s shoulders” (Matt. 23:4).  Likewise, there are those who greet us with a handshake and a ball and chain when we gather on Sunday.  If we have merely given Christian packaging to worldly burdens then we aren’t accepting Jesus’s yoke or learning Him at all.

            Jesus has a simple message for His body, the church: “Lay down the burdens of human religion.  Lay down the burdens of Christian culture.  Know Me, and rest in Me!”  Psalm 46 says it this way: “Cease striving, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations.”  To know Him requires that we trade Christianity for Christ, that we give up our harried serving to sit at His feet (Luke 10:41, 42).  Only one thing is needed, and that is Jesus Himself (Luke 10:42; Mark 10:21).  If we choose “the better thing,” it will not be taken away (Luke 10:42). 

A Single Stone

            David used only one stone to defeat Goliath and the entire Philistine army (1 Sam. 17:49, 50).  One stone set right the many blasphemies Goliath shouted at God’s people day after day (1 Sam. 17:16, 23).  One stone redeemed  the disobedience of every Israelite soldier who did nothing to resist Goliath.  One stone was all God needed to save His people. 

            Likewise, Paul says that the act of one man—Jesus—brought grace to many.  One act of self-giving atoned for generations of selfishness and sin—past, present, and future.  One righteous life laid down swallowed up centuries of death and brought resurrection life to myriads of people.  One act of obedience compensated for countless acts of disobedience committed by billions of people every day in every age (Rom. 5:15-21).

            Considering the awesome, far-reaching, unending power of Jesus’s death and resurrection, can we not trust Him with our own failings, whether committed years or minutes ago?  Can we not face that which is fallen, that which is satanic, and echo David’s words to Goliath: “I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, who died and rose again, whom you have defied.  THIS DAY, the Lord will hand you over to me, and I’ll strike you down by the power of His cross (1 Sam. 17:45, 46).

Seeing for Ourselves

My wife and I moved from Texas to Washington in March of 2000.  Just before moving, we went to our Wednesday night prayer meeting.  Someone was sharing about how Mary Magdalene saw the risen Christ and was sent to tell the disciples about the One she had seen (John 20:17, 18).  As I listened, the Lord said to me, “I have called you to be this type of messenger.”  Like Mary, the Lord has sent me to tell disciples about the One I have seen.  Mind you, I haven’t seen Jesus physically.  But we are not to know Him that way any longer (2 Cor. 5:16).  It is with the eyes of our hearts we are to see Jesus, and this is really the only way to see Him (Eph. 1:17, 18).  The gospels show that even people who saw the Lord physically didn’t know Him.  They only knew Him when revelation happened in their hearts (Matt. 16:15-17; Luke 24:15, 16, 30, 31). 

Over the years, my understanding of this calling has grown.  Not long after moving to Washington, I returned to the passages about Jesus sending Mary to the disciples.  As I read Luke’s account (in which several women accompany Mary), one part stood out to me: “But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense” (Luke 24:11; Mark 16:9-14).  I was caught off guard that the disciples didn’t believe the message brought by Mary and the others.  At that point, I understood that, sent by Jesus or not, I shouldn’t expect everyone to believe me or to receive what I said.  Even as I write, I am reminded that women didn’t enjoy the social standing that men did at that time and were not taken seriously in important matters.  My own experience has shown that some people won’t respect me or listen to me because of my personality, my level of education, the way I dress, and 1,000 other things that lower my status in their minds.  I have even been snubbed by ministers because I am not in “full-time” ministry, a fact that makes me less valid in their eyes.  But God is not impressed by the markers of prestige that we think give us the right to judge.  So instead of first appearing to people who might be respected Jesus appeared to a group of women whom He knew would be dismissed. 

While the disciples didn’t believe Mary, some, like Peter and John, at least went to see for themselves if what she said was true.  As we know, they found Jesus’s tomb empty and eventually saw Him themselves.  This is my greatest hope when I share the Lord.  I can’t expect anyone to listen to me or believe me but if I can make someone curious enough to look for Jesus themselves, and if they see Him by revelation, then that is better than being listened to or respected.  Listening to me won’t help a single person.  What each of us most needs is to see Jesus ourselves.  How can we do this?  Paul says if we set our hearts on Christ, God will remove the veil blinding our hearts, and we will see Jesus in the scriptures.  As we know Jesus in this way, the Holy Spirit will transform us into His likeness (2 Cor. 3:14-18; Luke 24:45, 46).  To the degree that we have been transformed in this way, the life of Jesus manifests in us, and we can see Jesus in each other as well (2 Cor. 4:10, 11). 

           Seeing Jesus and being transformed into His likeness is my first calling, even above preaching Him to others.  After all, if He isn’t seen in me, there is no message to preach, and there is quite enough of that going on amongst Christians already.  Instead, I believe the Lord has called me—and every one of us—to be a message and not merely preach one.   

Rejecting the King of Kings

“But when they said, ‘Give us a king to lead us,’ this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the LORD.  And the LORD told him: ‘Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king’” (1 Sam. 8:6, 7).

“‘Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked.  ‘We have no king but Caesar,’ the chief priests answered.  Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified” (John 19:15, 16).

            Israel asked for a king and was told the king they chose would take and take and take (1 Sam. 8:10-18).  Contrasting this with the Lamb of God—who gave until His body was broken and His blood spilled—gives us a sense of what Israel lost when they rejected God as their king.  They traded a God who loved them for a king who loved himself at their expense.  Why would anyone do this?  It is quite simple.  We must submit to a king.  Despite the bankruptcy and enslavement that comes with the king we choose, we prefer him because we prefer to submit to a reign which authorizes us to love ourselves first.  If we submit to God and accept His rule, we must give as we have been given to, we must love as He has loved us (John 15:12).  “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).  To choose another king is really to choose self as king.

            The self-king always calls for the extinction of the God-king.  Those who traded Christ for Caesar screamed for Jesus’s crucifixion (John 19:6, 15).  Saul sought David’s life unrelentingly (1 Sam. 19:1).  Self is a dictator, par excellence.  It can admit no competitor, no rival.  Saul allowed David to rise in prominence and to excel as long as he was a benefit and made Saul look good.  But the moment his reign was threatened, his murderousness manifested (1 Sam. 18:8-11). 

            Whether we follow the self-king or the God-king, our path will lead to the cross.  But which king we serve will determine if we are those shouting, “Crucify him!” or those who are silent before their accusers.  

Masquerade

Human religion is God’s greatest enemy and Satan’s greatest instrument in his assault on God & God’s people.  Human religion is not just non-Christian faiths or certain Christian denominations.  It is found in varying degrees in every Christian church just as Christ is.  More pointedly, human religion is found in every person’s heart (Matt. 15:18, 19).  It is the sinful nature’s attempt to be spiritual.

Regardless of where it presents itself, human religion puts itself in God’s place.  Consequently, it cannot tolerate when God or His true representatives show themselves.  The exposure of its charade, its counterfeiting, and its hypocrisy cannot be countenanced or it will lose all the control, self-worship, and parasitic preservation secured by its ruse.  So called “clergy” are certainly to blame as perpetrators of the power structure of human religion, the façade which keeps people from entering the kingdom because it poses as the gate (Matt. 23:13).  But human religion can’t exist without a laity which can be appealed to by leaders who justify the rule of self, the religion of the stomach, and enmity with the cross of Christ (Php. 3:18, 19).  To these and to all Jesus says, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.  For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it” (Luke 9:23, 24). 

            We cannot serve Christ and human religion.  We must choose.  While Christ and human religion coexist (not only in churches but in ourselves) they will be drawn inexorably into conflict, and we will be on one side or the other—laying our lives down in Christ’s image or thinking we offer service to God even as we attack those who are His flesh and blood (1 John 3:11-16; John 16:2). 

“[F]or Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.  It is not surprising, then, if his servants masquerade as servants of righteousness” (2 Cor. 11:14, 15). 

            One final consideration: The first murder was religiously motivated.  Cain offered God the best fruit his talents and effort could produce.  God rejected his offering but accepted Abel’s—an animal from his flock.  John tells us Cain murdered Abel because “his own actions were evil and his brother’s were righteous” (1 John 3:12).  The counterfeiter couldn’t tolerate the existence of the authentic.  Cain and Abel demonstrate one of the basic differences between human religion and Christ.  Cain’s “gospel” is that of human religion: work hard for God and give Him your best.  Abel had nothing of himself to offer.  Instead, he offered another life from his flock, which God accepted.  Cain says it’s about being good enough.  Abel says someone else must die for us.  Human religion heaps burdens on men which it won’t lift a finger to carry itself (Matt. 23:4).  Christ, who lays down His life for us, says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).

Prescribed for His Dwelling

1 Sam. 2:29—“Why do you scorn my sacrifice and offering that I prescribed for my dwelling?  Why do you honor your sons more than me by fattening yourselves on the choice parts of every offering…?”

“Why do you scorn my sacrifice and offering…by fattening yourselves…?”

The house of Eli scorned and dishonored God’s sacrifice because they fattened themselves.  They violated Christ, in type.  “This is how we know what love is—Jesus Christ laid down his life for us” (1 John 3:16).  John shows us that the reality of love (and God IS love, so this is the very person of God) is demonstrated and known in Christ’s sacrifice.  This is the very essence of God, to which John adds, “And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers as well.”  Instead of fattening ourselves, serving ourselves, and pursuing our own interests, instead of scorning the person of God in Christ’s sacrifice, God would have us love, lay down our lives for our brothers, and honor the offering of the Son.  After all, the Lord also describes it as, “the sacrifice and offering prescribed for my dwelling,” showing that we—the church and temple—are the place where Christ, God’s offering, resides and remains.  What a violation it is, then, if self is preferred among us when God intends us to be the very house of His sacrificial love.  This was the sin of which Eli’s house was guilty: they were to be the temple of the Lamb but enshrined personal gratification.  “For, as I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ.  Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame.  Their mind is on earthly things” (Php. 3:18, 19).  We are of the house of Eli to the extent we are motivated by our appetite for earthly things.  These can be sinful things, but in Philippians, Paul is referring to those who took pride in their religious piety.  The house of Eli, too, were priests who did not merely gratify themselves, but used their spiritual positions to that end (1 Sam. 2:12-17).

God has designated His church as the dwelling of Jesus—His sacrifice and offering.  This is what we are, this is our calling, the reason that we have been set apart as a unique people.  Not long after the above words were spoken to Eli, the ark of the covenant was captured, and God’s glory departed from Israel (1 Sam. 4:21).  We too will live apart from God’s glory if we scorn His sacrifice: “Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory” (Rom. 8:17).  To think that we have any purpose other than suffering with Him and sharing in His glory is self-pleasing deception and opportunism.   Lord, let the glory and sacrifice of your Son shine through us!    

He Has Done It!

Hebrews 11 is known as the faith chapter or “The Hall of Faith” and is a list of deeds done by Old Testament saints.  Many of us privately define faith as the effort required to remain convinced of what is essentially unreal.  However, this is not faith, nor is it spiritual; it is an attempt to manufacture feelings of certainty.  Such “faith” does not build the house of God, it only builds a house of cards, something threatened by every wind of emotion or circumstance.

What, then, is faith?  The translation of Hebrews 11:1 in my Greek dictionary is, “Now faith is the realization or reality of things hoped for, the proof of things not seen.”  This means faith is the same “stuff” as the unseen things for which we are hoping.  When we believe, we get a piece of reality, not just a whiff of possibility.  When we believe, spiritual things are made real, or are realized in us.  This is why Hebrews 11 is full of things people did.  Unseen things were being realized in them.  More to the point, perhaps we could call these acts of faith the making flesh of what is unseen.  

            What, then, is the unseen reality made flesh in the deeds of the saints?  The crucified Christ unlocks the unseen reality manifested in the faith of the saints.  By grasping this reality, Abel offered a more excellent sacrifice than Cain because his offering was in the image of Christ’s offering to come.  The ark built by Noah prefigured Christ’s death and resurrection (1 Peter 3:20, 21).  When Joseph’s bones were taken from Egypt to the promised land, this also foreshadowed the resurrection.  Similarly, by faith, Rahab marked her window with the scarlet thread, predicting the saving blood of Christ.  This isn’t to say that each of these understood, with utter clarity, that the death of a Jew in the first century AD would be their salvation.  What can be said is that these saints, by faith, touched something of spiritual reality in Christ and allowed their lives to be shaped by that reality. 

            We tend to see the scriptures as divided into different subjects or stories.  When we read Hebrews 11 from this point of view, we walk away having little sense of what is spiritually real or what it means to live by faith.  Our only sense may be of a multiplicity of promises.  Why God spoke all these different things to people we don’t know.  All we know is that God says different things to different people at different times (this is starting to sound like Hebrews 1:1!), and they believe Him.  Yet, the scriptures don’t teach us to see the many promises of God as ends in themselves but as leading to Christ.  “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ” (2 Cor. 1:20).  God’s goal, then, in every promise, was/is to testify of His Son.

            In sum, each act of faith in Hebrews 11 somehow embodies Christ’s death and resurrection.  Chapter 12 begins with an image that perfectly encapsulates these things: we are running our own race of faith, joining with a great cloud of onlookers whose eyes are fixed on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, the One crucified in the center of the coliseum of heaven and earth.  The cheer of the crowd that urges us on is not “You can do it!” but, “He has done it!”

If Anyone...

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself

and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).

            At times, I am grieved because it seems that, for many believers, this verse means nothing.  Many of us are walking along with Jesus but have no idea what we’ve signed up for.  More importantly, we have no idea who it is we follow.  We’re part of the church because we grew up in it.  We’re involved because we’re pursuing our own ambitions in music, ministry, or whatever else interests us.  We think being religious is the right thing to do.  A thousand motives, a swarm of reasons, yet no inkling that we have been called to deny ourselves and take up our cross daily.  We take the name of our Husband but have no intention of following the Lamb wherever He goes (Rev. 14:4).  We call Him Master but find His example beneath us (John 13:15-17).   

            Jesus has only one destination throughout the gospels: the cross.  While He marches steadily closer to His end, the disciples get excited that the demons obey them, they try to one-up each other, they criticize those outside their group, they fight amongst themselves, they turn away people who need ministry, they pledge their unwavering devotion to Him.  Jesus’s entire focus is on Calvary.  The disciples are focused on everything but.  To put it another way, they are focused on all that Jesus is bearing to the cross for judgment.  Then, when the cross comes, the disciples scatter.  The cross reveals that their devotion is to many things besides Him, and in the shadow of its judgment, there is nothing left that binds them to Him.  

            God help us repent of being engrossed in things that God has judged (1 Cor. 7:31; 1 John 2:15, 16).  God help us repent of thinking God will be satisfied with anything less than our whole selves (Mark 10:17-22).  God help us see that any gospel which says, “Never!  The cross shall never happen to you!” does not have in mind the things of God but the things of men (Matt. 16:21-23).  God help us put aside our thoughts and our ways as we see His face set like flint toward the giving up of Himself (Luke 9:51).  “[L]et us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:1, 2).     

    

Nothing Less than Him

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God”

(John 1:1).

            Jesus is God’s complete self-expression or Word.  The Word is God, just as my word is me and not something other than me.  Jesus said it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks (Matt. 12:34).  Jesus is the abundance of God’s heart, the One in whom God’s most personal reality is known. 

            Hebrews 1:1 tells us that the crown of God’s self-revelation is His Son, who is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (Heb. 1:1-3).  Jesus Himself told His disciples, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9).  Hebrews show us that the message God has spoken in His Son supercedes prophets and their prophecies, supercedes the message spoken by angels, supercedes the revelation of Moses, supercedes the testimony of the tabernacle, supercedes the law, and the covenant of Mt. Sinai (Heb. 1:1, 2:2-4, 3:3, 9:11, 10:1, 12:18-24).  In short, Jesus is the full message of God to us.  Every other message that has been or will be is piecemeal and limited.  Hebrews warns that we can end up rejecting the Son because of devotion to God’s partial revelation through other avenues.  Note that these are not sinful things or false messages, but spiritual things that, while they serve God’s purpose, are nonetheless incomplete.  We would do well to heed this warning.  In the church today, Jesus is often shouted down by heralds of the miraculous, morality, spiritual warfare, spiritual gifts, the end times, holiness, revival, prosperity, faith, tradition, cultural relevance, and a million other messages.  Again, these things aren’t bad or satanic.  But in the end, whatever we preach other than Jesus is less than God’s full Word.

            John tells us that God’s complete self-expression, His Word, became flesh and dwelled among us (John 1:14).  He further says that God’s complete self-expression was heard, seen, and touched by those who knew Him (1 John 1:1).  This is mind-boggling.  Everything that God wanted us to know about Him walked among us, ate with us, showed us affection, talked with us.  That being the case, it still took an act of God to make us see His revelation in the Son (Matt. 16:15-17). 

            Our birth into spiritual life is accomplished when the Word enters into us.  Peter says we were born again by the living and enduring word of God (1 Peter 1:23).  John says God’s seed is in us (1 John 3:9).  We have received nothing less than God’s complete self-expression.  It is this One who indwells us.  Nevertheless, this reality remains veiled to us unless the Holy Spirit opens our eyes (2 Cor. 3:16-18).  Christ may be in us, but without the Holy Spirit’s ministry we will fail to recognize Him within just as people failed to recognize Jesus of Nazareth as God’s Christ when He walked the earth.  In Galatians chapter one, Paul says that God revealed Christ in Him so that he might preach Him.  Amen.  May we know God’s complete self-expression, His Word, by revelation, so that we might preach nothing less than Him.

The All and In All

In his third vision, Ezekiel sees all things made new. The old temple—into which was gathered all Israel’s sinfulness—is no more. Instead, there is a new temple, made without hands, purged of all idolatry (Ezek. 40-43). The people of Israel are new, as is their relationship with the Lord: “Son of man, this is the place of my throne and the place for the soles of my feet. This is where I will live among the Israelites forever. The house of Israel will never again defile my holy name…by their prostitution and the lifeless idols of their kings….” (Ezek. 43:7). There is a new priesthood—the sons of Zadok (meaning, “Sons of righteousness”)—free of the unfaithfulness which characterized the priesthood of man (Ezek. 44:10-16). A new inheritance awaits the people of God (45:1-8, 47:13-48:29), and a new city whose name is “THE LORD IS THERE” (Ezek. 45:6, 48:15-22, 48:30-35). Here, all things are new, & all things are of God (2 Cor. 5:17, 18). This is reality in Christ. Through the cross (the destruction of the temple in Ezekiel’s second vision), old things were put away. No vestige of those things remain, just as Ezekiel sees no resemblance between the Israel in his vision & the Israel in captivity. We can remain in captivity through unbelief, or we can accept the overwhelming grace of God—all things have been made new in Jesus. By showing Ezekiel these things, God is hoping to draw his people—including those reading Ezekiel today—out of captivity. For we are captives to the extent we do not abide where all things are made new and are of God.

When we say all things are new, what do we mean? Let’s put it this way: imagine a world where every last thing is Christ: every river, every stone, every blade of grass. This is something like what Ezekiel’s third vision shows us. Christ is the temple and the glory within. He is the altar, He is the offering, He is the priest presenting the offering, He is the sacrificial flesh eaten by those who minister. He is the land and each inheritance marked out. He is the 12 tribes and the nation of Israel. The prince spoken of is the Prince of Peace. His Spirit is the river that makes everything live as it flows past trees of all kinds, which trees He is. “Christ is all, and is in all” (Col. 3:11). There is nothing in what Ezekiel sees that is not Christ. And this is where God has placed us. This is the One into which we have been baptized (1 Cor. 1:30, 12:13). Despite the conditions through which we sojourn, despite the lack of Christ we see around us and in us every day, God would have us know that our reality, the place where we live and move and have our being, is precisely this place where there is nothing but Christ, where Christ is the elemental composition of everything, where He is the length, the height, the breadth, and the depth (Eph. 3:18). “Christ is all, and is in all.”

I Hate Earth Day

The Lord has been exposing in me a fear of being seen as ignorant, out of touch, uneducated, backward, and the like. An underlying motivation in my presentation of Christ has been to show that Christianity is none of the negative stereotypes imposed on it. More importantly, I want to make sure people don’t think I fit those stereotypes. At bottom, my defense of Christianity is merely self-love. And really, we talk in this day and age as if stereotypes are always completely false when in reality there is often truth to them.

While bridge building is a legitimate calling within the church, so is being misunderstood, maligned, and rejected. Many in the church are perplexed by the world’s reaction to us and assume something must be wrong with the church or our presentation of the gospel. Many of us are busy polling our neighbors, finding out what offends or confuses, and trying to find the “holy grail” of cultural relevance that will end all dissonance with non-Christians. Others make it their mission to engage public debate, relate Christian faith to the latest scientific theories, and rub elbows with intellectuals of all stripes. Nevertheless, the world’s basic attitude toward Christianity is negative and many of us remain surprised by this.

But we shouldn’t be surprised. The scriptures say we should expect the world to hate us (John 15:18-25). We are told we shouldn’t expect the world to listen to us (1 John 4:5, 6). We are told to expect rejection (1 Peter 4:12; 2 Tim. 3:12). Despite all these admonitions, we wring our hands and wonder why all don’t speak well of us (Luke 6:26).

This isn’t to say the church is perfect. Historically, we have been guilty of social injustice, hypocrisy, child molestation, consumerism, and countless other things that betray the very heart of God. For our real failures we should take responsibility and show contrition as is fitting in Christ. But we often go way beyond this and lapse into co-dependently gauging the rightness of our course by the reactions of others. If people are flooding in and not leaving offended, we must be presenting the “real” Jesus. If people react negatively or with hostility, we assume something must be wrong with us and we anxiously set about to find how we’ve dropped the ball.

But we must consider this: Large crowds followed Jesus when He was handing out free food, healing people, preaching encouraging sermons, etc. But when He got to the heart of His teaching about the cross and communing in His broken flesh, everyone left but the twelve (John 6:66). We need to remember that “he had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him” (Isaiah 53:2). In the end, the crowds we draw through our pleasanter ministries will be the same crowds calling for our crucifixion (Matt. 27:22). I am by no means suggesting we be bull-headed, insensitive, ignorant clods for Jesus. But we can never forget we are not of the world or that our place is ultimately with Jesus (John 17:14). “Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore” (Heb. 13:13).