Whom is the Bible addressed to?

A few days ago I posited the question, "What exactly is a Christian?" and made the point that it's not well defined in scripture. Let me expand on that a bit, by speaking of something else: the "audience" of scripture.

Who is the Bible addressed to? Well, to start with, let's focus on the New Testament. Those individual letters were mostly addressed to whom? Well to churches... but that kind of begs the point, were they addressed to the church as a group? Or to individual hearers? Or... what? When Paul exhorts people, what are his major concerns? Individual sins? Social work? Or... what?

Let's take as an example 1 Corinthians. The first concern is about "divisions among you". The "you" here is clearly plural, he is speaking to a group, and concerned about the group not acting as a group. So then we look at Galatians, and we see him talking about "the gospel preached to you". Again, his concern is the group choosing a preacher who leads the whole group astray.

For a contrast, we look at Ephesians, where election is highlighted right away, and certainly only individuals are elected and saved. We see him praising "your faith... and your love," which is addressed to a group, but those are aggregate qualities of individuals. But then even here, what is the *point* of this election, what's the result? As soon as Paul says, "So then..." what does he say? That they are "fellow citizens with the saints... members of the household of God... a holy temple... a dwelling place for God." Their group-ness and fundamental unity is the result. And following on that, as soon as he says, "I urge you..." it is for "bearing with one another... maintaining unity... one body and one Spirit... over all and in all and through all." These individually-elected believers are identified by their inclusion in this "group"; but this is not an abstract group, some vague connection to ALL believers, but epitomized by their harmonious existence as they physically worship and fellowship with each other in their local congregation.

There's unity between different churches, to be sure, but even this language recognizes the existence of a "congregational body-ness" that underlies it. We don't usually phrase it, "there is unity between churchgoers of different cities/congregations." No, but rather, the visible unity of the local congregation is the MODEL of the greater unity that we can only see by faith. We know if there are divisions or hostilities between the people we see every week, but by faith and by the Holy Spirit, we trust that our separate churches are in fact unified into a single great Holy City, that Revelations describes as descending out of heaven for us all to see on the Last Day.

So when we read the New Testament, we should absolutely see it addressed to "us", spoken to those who worship together in the same place. We should ask ourselves about the unity we have (or don't have) with the people in the next pew over. We should understand "love" in the context of the indifference or even hostility we bear against fellow worshippers. May the Holy Spirit make us one!

On the claimed exclusivity of the Catholic Church

I certainly know what it's like to question -- and even lament -- the habits and norms of American evangelical Protestantism. I even understand that deep jarring feeling when looking closely at church history, like where's the connection to where I am?

But having immersed myself in "Catholic stuff", in particular attending UD and participating in the Rome semester, and having many of my closest friends from there, I'll say that the Catholic church gives but also takes away. 

So while the Catholic church gives "tradition" -- in the full sense of the word -- that same tradition also puts a large barrier between you and scripture. There's simply not the same freedom to come to scripture with that expectation of discovery, that evaporation of the many years between then and now. The text must bear the weight of a millennia of tradition and official exposition. 

God, in his providence, did not leave the Catholic Church to set up a new temple in Protestantism. But likewise He also does not reside with the Catholic Church exclusively, waiting for the Protestant denominations to return to Him. He is no respecter of nation, nor of denomination, nor of self-declared catholicity. "Wherever two or more are gathered" is the starting point, the hierarchy of one visible church in the present day is NOT the eternal bride of Christ, stretching through time and space, knit together by the blood of Christ.

May we all pray for reconciliation between all of God's people, even on this earth, as we have confidence that we will all be united at the wedding feast of the Lamb.

Fear of the Lord

 A friend posted a question about the "fear of the Lord", and it really got me thinking about it.

So I think that being a parent has helped me to understand that my kids -- especially when younger -- have a certain kind of "fear" about me as the one who usually disciplines them. Like, if a kid says something rude to Naomi, or hits a sibling in anger, they know that Daddy is going to come home and discipline them. When they are really little they might even run and hide, trying to escape punishment. In an interesting parallel, the Lord warns Israel in the OT that they should be afraid of the judgement of God, that will fall on them if they persist in worshipping idols, for example.

But then I'm reminded that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," but is perhaps not the _end_ of wisdom. It's not inappropriate for someone who isn't a Christian to be aware of the judgment of God, and fears it, and so repents and trusts in Christ. But then John says, "Perfect love casts out fear, for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." I think John is talking about the normal initial fear of the Lord, just based on fear of punishment, which turns into a richer relationship, turns into reciprocal love, as we know and understand our heavenly Father better, and understand his love for us through Christ. And if his use of "perfect" can be understood as "complete", there's a natural progression from "fear" in the "beginning" to "love" when our understanding of him is "complete".

We can still talk about how "fear" is like awe or overwhelming wonder, but I think it takes away from the ordinary meaning of the word, takes away from a normal progression from "fear of his righteous punishment and judgement" to "loving and enthusiastic obedience to his commands, in thankfulness". 

Love and Holy Disciplines

I read something recently, that reminded me of several books I have read about "spiritual disciplines". They were fine up to a point, but overall I think they can often miss the point: what's the *goal* of these spiritual disciplines? The language in these books is often exclusively focused on what an individual does privately, on an individual's relationship with God. But where's the community? 

These days I think it's more important to focus on the more "practical" and communal disciplines, like attending church, extending hospitality, and reading/studying scripture with others (rather than private study or just being instructed by one person). In particular, reading through the Old Testament with my kids has been a really remarkable, exciting, and encouraging endeavor for everyone involved. A simpler translation like the NIRV helps this work. 

And as for the next level of "disciplines", there's an entire congregation of people to know, love, encourage, and fellowship with. But also to forgive, reconcile, comfort in sickness or loss, or even just visit. 1 Corinthians 13 is an example of what love looks like in community, being patient and kind with one another, keeping no record of wrongs, bearing together, believing together, hoping together, enduring together. 

Those are the disciplines that really shine when things get tough. When people have burdens, those relationships allow us to "bear one another's burdens". Where we can say, "blest be the ties that bind..."

Parable of parables

In Matthew 13:10, the disciples ask Jesus, "Why do you speak to them in parables?" It's a natural question to ask, and it seems especially appropriate in Matthew, because this gospel could easily be called the "gospel of parables". The book is FULL of them. Even in passages where Jesus is not giving a parable, the narrative often reads like one. So why did he speak in parables? We should expect that the answer helps us to understand the words and works and overall ministry of Jesus, and in a related way also shed light on the gospel of Matthew as a whole. 

Jesus first responds with, "To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given." This seems pretty straightforward, Jesus is calling his parables "secrets" that need interpretation and explanation. But he continues on to say, "To the one who has, more will be given, and he will have more than enough, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away." Wait... is he referring to the parable that immediately precedes this passage, the parable of the sower (v. 3)? This parable describes seed scattered on the road, on rocky soil, in thorns, and on good soil, and describes how some seed is "taken away". Jesus does go on, in fact, to give a full explanation of this parable in verse 18, but before we get there, we have this "interrupting" question of the disciples.

So it seems clear that the words of Jesus here are doing double duty. For one, they are answering the disciples' question about parables, and defining them as "secrets of the kingdom". But also, this is already the beginning of the interpretation of the "parable of the sower" itself. But if that's true, it makes the "parable of the sower" itself a sort of parable about parables. The interpretation of this parable, and the question "why do you speak in parables?" have the same answer. 

So this is the rest of Jesus' reply (verse 13): "This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand." This is presented as the heart of the matter. Jesus speaks in parables in order to show who has been given understanding. As he says to his disciples, "Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear." But they don't understand the parable... yet! They are blessed not because they have inherent wisdom or understanding, but because Jesus gives them the understanding of it. 

So who is given understanding? Those in the kingdom of God! If Jesus calls the "seed" in the parable the "word of the kingdom", and if he calls parables the "secrets of the kingdom", and if many parables are introduced with the words, "to what can I compare the kingdom of heaven?", it's clear that the understanding of the parables are integrally linked with those who are members of the kingdom of God. In fact, we can say that one disciple of Jesus can recognize another, when they recognize that they share a common understanding of the parables, when they share understanding about how the kingdom of God works in the world and before God.

We need this understanding of the parables and the kingdom of God today. And indeed, when Jesus left this earth, he did not leave us without a guide, but sent the Holy Spirit in his place, to grant this same understanding into his parables, and more broadly into all of scripture. Just as the disciples sought out the meaning of this parable, so now our Father rewards those who "diligently seek him". As Paul says (in 1 Cor 2:12), "Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God." We should earnestly seek out the understanding of the parables (and the other teachings) of Jesus, and of scripture in general, and confidently expect the Holy Spirit to abundantly bless us with a deep understanding of our Father in heaven, and the kingdom of God here on earth.

Early morning nonsense

Even and tide, the endless apportion,

Made from the gasps of tearing and torsion.

Pushing aside the endless ague,

Grasping the pall of alternate hue,

Upward and downward the dew feathers fall,

Pointing their daggers at spectre and thrall,

Poised to accrue to a host more resplendent,

Swollen with notes and the glory ascendant.

King Sacrifice

As the kids and I wrap up our long-running OT reading (and minimal discussion) of the history of Israel's kings (finishing up 2 Chronicles), one notable takeaway is this: 

So prophets are intermediaries between God and men, often bringing God's word to his people, right? And then priests are another kind of intermediary, offering sacrifices to God? 

So also the "good" kings of Israel are another kind of intermediary, specifically in how they are often asked to bear punishment from the Lord for the people. David, Hezekiah, and Josiah (and Moses too, in fact!) are all "tested" on this point, when faced with God's imminent judgement upon the people of Israel.

For example, David sees the angel of the Lord raising his sword over Jerusalem, and he exclaims, "Behold, I have sinned, and I have done wickedly. But these sheep, what have they done? Please let your hand be against me and against my father’s house."

There's a kind of completeness to the work of Jesus, a completing of these OT roles of prophet, priest, and king. But there's a deep connection between his death on the cross and his role as king. After all, he establishes a "Kingdom of God" based on sacrifice and suffering in his earthly ministry. It's as the kingly descendant, the "lion of Judah, the root of David", that he appears in Revelations as the slain lamb. And just a couple of verses later we have the ultimate summation: 

"Worthy are you to take the scroll

and to open its seals,

for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God

from every tribe and language and people and nation,

and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,

and they shall reign on the earth." (Rev 5:9,10)

Jesus is the king that sacrifices himself, to create his kingdom. He's the one that conquers and triumphs over the world through his death. We become a nation, and he claims us as his subjects, when he takes our sins upon his own head. "Worthy is the Lamb" indeed!