Category Archives: Bible

Suffering and Sovereignty: a Follow-up

My last post may have caused some confusion regarding the timeliness of teaching some truths. Suffice to say, all theology that helps us understand God biblically (in this case, his sovereignty), may help us through hard times when we know it going in, but may prove an untimely truth, misunderstood when first received in certain situations.

Likewise, sin’s role in suffering proceeds from Eden, and may have only secondary (or further removed) causality in our suffering. In John 9:2-3 the disciples inquired whether a man was blind for his sin or for his parents’. Jesus replied, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” Sin wasn’t causative, but had the fall not happened, blindness wouldn’t be an issue. When sin’s role is more apparent in suffering, a comforter should tread carefully.

Pondering suffering and sovereignty in my own life, I find this helpful: Consider the child who cuts her foot on a rusty nail. Already suffering a cut, her parents take her to the doctor, who’ll add stitches and shots to her misery. From the child’s perspective, subjecting her to more pain seems cruel and uncaring. From the parent’s perspective, it’s love for the child and purposeful for her long-term good.

Similarly, when sin is at issue (in the following illustration, disobedience), consider finding your child playing in the road against your strongest commands. Depending on traffic, you might rush to grab him by the arm, yanking him to safety before giving them a good swat on the bottom. So, in this case, you clearly haven’t been able to make him understand actual danger (traffic), so you give him a memorable, alternate incentive (punishment) to obey you in an effort to keep him from true harm.

These parents understand this suffering, but look past it for the child’s welfare.

On the “why” of evil and suffering, consider this small child, yourself and an infinite, omniscient, omnipotent, creator God. Where do you suppose is the larger gap in understanding? Between you and the child, who we’ve already determined is unable to grasp parental wisdom, or between you and God? Clearly, if we have wisdom over and purpose in some instances of a child’s suffering, God has greater wisdom and purpose in our own.

Both of these illustrations convey to me that God has purposes in whatever befalls us. For the believer it’s correction, preparatory training, reparatory work, or some combination of all of these – done in love. Unlike some Christian pundits, I’m not to venture God’s specific purpose for believers or others, in any evil and suffering large or small. Further, since I’m not the center of the universe, my own suffering may simply play into (and most certainly does) a complexity of interrelated stories concerning those around me. May my witness reflect his perfect purpose over my present pain.

In 2 Corinthians 4:8-12, Paul poetically enumerates his great suffering for Christ, before finishing (17-18): “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

God opposes evil (Habakkuk 1:13), but has power over it and purpose in it we cannot see. In fact, he uses it and suffering for our collective, eventual good (Romans 8:28). If a sparrow’s demise doesn’t escape him (Matthew 10:29), how close he must hold the suffering!

Hope Entombed with Sabbath Gloom

On a Friday long ago, history pivoted on the crucifixion of a carpenter turned peripatetic teacher. Extraordinary darkness (Matthew 27:45) oversaw the events at midday as “the earth shook and rocks split” and the curtain guarding the Holy of Holies was torn, top to bottom (51). Much has been written of that day, awful as it was, now known as Good Friday for what his sacrifice means to Christians.

Similarly, for those who truly trust in the person and work of Jesus Christ, both during his sinless life (“active” obedience), and including his unjust arrest, trial and death (“passive” obedience), Resurrection Day receives its due honor, both in our seasonal holiday, but also in our celebration on the first day each week, Sunday. This resurrection was the ratification of the New Covenant – proof that this God-man, who “came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15), accomplished just that.

Oh, the horrors of that Friday…and sweet contrast, the joy of that Sunday!

What, though, of that day between? Other than the Jewish/Roman tomb-guarding tactics (Matthew 27:62-66), the Bible says very little about that particular Sabbath. In preparation for it, “the Jews asked Pilate” (John 19:31) to break the legs of those crucified in order to hasten their death so they wouldn’t hang on the Sabbath (traditionally beginning at sundown Friday). Having been found already dead, Luke tells of the request for Jesus’ body and his burial (Luke 23:50-56). Speaking of those involved, the account finishes, “On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.”

One must suppose that, for all these disciples who had so much hope in Jesus as the coming Savior, this had to be the most restless “rest,” and the longest, darkest, most hopeless Sabbath in history. Perhaps this rest met the requirements of the God-given law, and the casuistic, pharisaical codicils, but one can scarce imagine anything other than stomach-churning, doom-inspired, internal agony.

To be carefree on that day was to be oblivious to the expense and expanse of what happened the day before. To be downcast was to be unaware that hope entombed would spring forth more robust, like a simple seed to fragrant flower or an acorn to mighty oak.

For them it was a time in-between. Deaf to his numerous promises that “on the third day (the Son of Man) will rise again,” and mistaken in precisely what manner the Messiah would be crowned King, they suffered a Sabbath with no expectations but of persecution for their association with him. Ah, unbeknownst to them, what glory awaits with that coming dawn as hope is reborn!

What of us? We also are in a time in-between. We don’t suffer the emotional nadir of watching him die, pondering how the one with power over “the winds and the waves” (Mark 4:41), even over life itself (John 19:44), lies in decay. Neither, though, do we have their pinnacle of joy, seeing him alive again, face-to-face. But, Jesus blesses us in this existential difference – “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29b).

Our present struggle “between” means we see the crucifixion and bodily resurrection as God’s work in history – apparent defeat turned world-changing victory – so necessary for our hope (1 Corinthians 15:12-23). Blessed as we are to know the war is won, battles still rage. Life is hard. Happiness may lie beyond arm’s reach, but joy and a sure and certain hope remain, inextricably tied between his death and resurrection, and his promised return.

Indeed, “Christ Has Died, Christ Is Risen, Christ Will Come Again!”

Who Killed Jesus? I Did

Provocative, yes? Whatever Mel Gibson has done wrong in his life since his movie, “The Passion of the Christ,” he did something right in its production. He chose, for symbolic reasons, to have his own hands filmed nailing Jesus to the Cross. His recognition of culpability is compelling.

I remember the charges of “anti-Semitism” for their role, but biblically, the Romans killed Jesus at the behest of the Jewish leadership who had “stirred up the crowd” (Mark 15:11; cf. Acts 2:22-23). Besides, that indictment should have been mitigated by Gibson’s metaphorically taking blame in his role with the hammer and nail. “Who killed Jesus?” many instigators asked. “I did,” answer all who truly understand the cross.

Charged with a predilection for bad company, Jesus answers, “It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick” (Luke 5:31b). The irony is wasted on those, then and now, who believe they “are well” (see Romans 3:23). We all have the same sickness – sin – and there’s only one cure (see John 6:44; 14:6). As few would choose chemotherapy without exigencies, no one seeks the cross without understanding their need and its provision.

“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 the biblical Christian’s acceptance of our common diagnosis, and its corollary prognosis, that opens our eyes to the substitutionary efficacy of Christ’s death, and to the Scriptures that proclaim this truth (Isaiah 53; 1 Peter 2:24; 2 Corinthians 5:21).

The “why?” of the cross has been subjected to all manner of lathing and sanding to get rid of sharp corners and rough edges – every humanly objectionable, but heavenly requisite, morsel of truth. Not only is the “danger: harmful to self-esteem” placard pasted on our self-blaming above, the God who would substitute his own Son to take the penalty due us becomes guilty of “divine child abuse.” Rubbish.

The biblical Christian must contend with the truth that Christ’s greatest suffering came not from the scourging, thorny crown, and nail-pierced hands and feet, nor even his abandonment by his disciples. Jesus’ physical/emotional abuse was not insignificant, but not the zenith of his pain.

Instead, it is in drinking “the cup” of the wrath of God he previously sought to avoid before bowing to his Father’s will (Matthew 26:39). We cannot fathom the expense, nor imagine what transpired between the Father and the Son, but we do know that in some sense Jesus was “forsaken” (Matthew 27:46) by the Father he had been in eternal communion with. Thus, Jesus’ greatest suffering was at the hands of his Father.

Further, humanity didn’t paint God into a “Plan B” corner. His holiness demanded payment, so “Jesus (was) delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23; cf. Isaiah 53:10). And, Jesus was willing, declaring that no one would take his life, but that he would “lay it down of (his) own accord” (John 10:17-18).

These facts are not exculpatory for you and me or for those more directly blameworthy in that day. It was our sin Jesus carried to the cross, drinking that cup meant for us…at a cost we can’t comprehend.

Planned as it was, the Father is not on the lengthy list of those to “blame,” for in costly grace, His self-sacrifice compares with that of the Son. Their cooperative, atoning work is more than sufficient to bear the sin of those who are responsible, but embrace the Savior who is “mighty to save.”

A Word to Live By

More than a few folks bristle at the idea that people of faith get their warp and woof from a book. There are numerous examples of people, past and present, who use(d) their “holy” book to excuse wreaking havoc on the world. Others who believe all people are “basically good” are forced to conclude that these books and their brandishers must necessarily brainwash adherents – those who believe their specific book is given by God – and are therefore dangerous to the continued progress of man.

Religious books aren’t all of the same stripe. The ethereal natures of some Eastern and “New Age” religions don’t require verifiability or historical accuracy of their texts because their “truths” transcend those categories. Others, whose books would seem to be historical (including some Judaism and Christianity), use various four-fold interpretive methods that include the literal meaning of the text, but go to a more allegorical, subjective sense to derive ultimate meaning. Biblical Christians, and I suppose Qur’anic Muslims, and maybe Mormons and other quasi-Christian sects, must needs be “people of the book,” and those books must be in accord with actual natural and supernatural events to be coherent.

For the last 150-200 years, liberal scholars have taken to “demythologizing” the Bible. Enlightenment rationalism has forced many who would “save Christianity” to skew the Bible almost as ethereal, mystical and mythical, so that events like the virgin birth and the resurrection are not taken literally, but super-spiritually – “Jesus has risen in my heart” even if his body still lays dead somewhere. For Paul (and us), Christ’s actual, bodily resurrection is an imperative (1 Corinthians 15:12-19).

The Bible depends ultimately on the objective truth of God as he has revealed himself, and what his Word says he has actually said and done in history (revelation). There are copious tests for historicity, continuity, coherency and authority, and biblical Christians welcome honest scrutiny as should any said “people of the book.”

That said, there is indeed a spiritual component to understanding the Scriptures (1 Corinthians 2:14), so if you approach it to disprove it, you might indeed do so to your and others’ satisfaction. Blaise Pascal stated, “In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t.” (Note: authors Lee Strobel and Josh McDowell are two of many exceptions – scoffers whose investigations led to faith.)

So, I may take a later column to dispel some popular misconceptions (or skeptics’ holstered challenges – locked and loaded for rapid fire avoidance of actually considering answers) about the Bible and how it’s to be read and interpreted as the author(s) intended. For now, let me speak to (myself and) my brothers and sisters.

The reformers stated regarding the sufficiency of Scripture that “the Bible is our only rule for faith and practice.” Given that Christian Scriptures are central to understanding the God who made us – the Christ who saved us (Luke 24:27) – you might agree that knowing it should be somewhat paramount in our practice of the faith. Knowing it…is knowing Him. Reading, learning, memorizing and meditating on “the Word of God” would seem to be essential to leading a life pleasing to the God who made himself known. Yet, Christians are in too large measure illiterate of the book they claim to love. It is meant to be consumed for our guidance and delight (Psalm 119:11; 1:1-2).