Tag Archives: spirit of god

Are Miraculous Gifts for Today? (3/3)

Pejoratively Paul?

One aspect of interpreting I Corinthians that the Cessationists certainly get right is that this chapter is written as a corrective to Corinthian abuse of the charismatic gift of tongues. Indeed, “most of what he had to say restricted the use of tongues in the church.”[1] We must not lose sight of the fact that Paul desires that the gift of prophecy be exalted above that of tongues because prophecy is edifying to the entire congregation, not just the individual. Whereas our concerns may lie elsewhere, this is Paul’s.

However, losing Paul’s argument for their own, Cessationists quickly to jump from Paul’s rebuke to the Corinthians to their assertions of the cessation of this gift. This is done first through their attempts to show that Paul has a disparaging attitude toward tongues. One example of this is their interpretation of 14:4 where Paul says, “the one who speaks in a tongue edifies himself.” MacArthur asserts that this edification of the self is contrary to the others-oriented love of 13:5. Indeed, he even suggests that the use of the word edify (oivkodomei/) here is likely pejorative in nature, citing 8:10[2] where the word means “strengthening” one’s conscience to do evil, [3] thus “the Corinthians were using tongues to build themselves up in a selfish sense. Their motives were not wholesome but egocentric.”[4]

The Cessationists are certainly correct that the Corinthians were using tongues to bolster their own self of spiritual maturity. However, the question is, is that what Paul means in 14:4? First, from the context, if one takes this use of oivkodomei/ as pejorative, one must also take the parallel statement in vs. 2 as pejorative: “for anyone who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to God.”[5] Second, the Cessationist case here is weak here because it unnecessarily assumes self-edification is a negative, self-seeking thing.

However, Paul’s problem is not with the gift, but the Corinthian’s use of the gift. Therefore, we need not assume self edification resulting from tongues is negative, for “edifying oneself is not self-centeredness, but the personal edifying of the believer that comes through private prayer and praise.”[6] The issue is that self-edification is not what corporate worship is for.[7] Furthermore, if tongues is ego-centric then it makes no sense for Paul to desire that they all speak in tongues (14:5),[8] for he would be enjoining the entire congregation to practice egocentric, self-centered spirituality.

Another means by which Cessationists interpret Paul’s discussion of tongues as disparaging to the gift itself comes from Paul’s comments in vs. 14 where he states, “for if[9] I pray in a tongue, my spirit prays but my mind is unproductive.” It is suggested that “my mind is unproductive” is Paul’s way of rebuking the Corinthians for their mindless ecstasy. That is, Paul rebukes them for employing a worship method that does not engage the mind.

In the end, however, this conclusion is assumed from a prior theological position. Contextually, if tongues is looked at pejoratively by Paul, then this is probably a negative statement. But if one does not assume that Paul has a problem with the gift, itself, then there is no need to read this comment as a rebuke. Rather, Paul is simply stating that when one prays in tongues “it does not benefit the minds of others”[10] or himself – the argument he has been making the whole time. Because it is an inarticulate gift, tongues simply does not engage the mind or call for a rational response in the same way prophecy does.[11] “Only the human spirit is active if one prays of speaks in tongues without interpretation. Paul prays both ways (with spirit and mind) and urges others to follow his example.”[12]

The Intention of Tongues

In the final argument we have room for, Cessationists make a move toward Cessation from I Corinthians 14 is in their discussion of the intention of tongues according to Paul. The intention of tongues, according to Cessationism, is a sign (shmei/o,n) to unbelieving Jews that they are under God’s judgment (14:20), particularly the covenantal curse of Deuteronomy 28:49.[13]

Unfortunately this argument is exegetically unfounded.[14] This reading is grounded solely on the basis of Paul’s citation of the Isaiah 28:11-12 (cf. Dt. 28:49, Jer. 5:15). It is argued that this sign is a sign of judgment upon unbelieving Israel and the OT citation is a forewarning of the fall of Jerusalem that results from Jew’s rejection of their Messiah. The problem, however, is that nowhere in this passage (or the rest of the Pauline corpus for that matter) does Paul explicitly touch on the issue of Jerusalem’s fall. Paul is not acting as a prophet predicting the fall of Jerusalem.

Rather, from the context of the Hebrew text[15]of Isaiah 28:9-13, it is clear that the word of the Lord is heard as meaningless gibberish to Ephraim as a sign of judgment upon them in the form of Assyrian oppressors. The word of the Lord to them actually gives them meaningless sounds instead of an escape route and thus “functions as a word of judgment simply because it provides no clear guidance.”[16] Thus Paul’s citation of this text is in full understanding that “when God speaks to people in a language they cannot understand, it is a form of punishment for unbelief.”[17]

However, rather than applying to unbelieving Israel, Paul’s citation of Isaiah 28 has a much more contextually plausible solution: the unbelievers coming into the Corinthian assembly in the next verse, who may associate the Corinthian church with the other Greek pagan religions with their ecstatic experiences. In the immediate context, then, Paul is making the case that “for a stranger to enter a meeting in which the babbling of strange tongues was being manifest apart from any interpretation, the very act of speaking in tongues held the potential for confirming that unbeliever in a failure to discern the presence of God.”[18] These inarticulate babblings would cause the unbelievers (vs. 23) to think the Corinthians were “mad.”[19] Such a response would be the fulfillment of Isaiah 28:11-12 “to the effect that tongues do not lead sinners to obedience.”[20] Contra MacArthur, the text never indicates that the unbelievers (avpi,stoij) Paul references are Jews.[21] Even if my proposed reading of this text is wrong, it certainly deals with the contextual evidence of I Corinthians 14 better than the argument that restricts the sign to unbelieving Jews, as there’s nothing within this text that necessitates such a reading.

Finally, I think the structure of this passage should finally put the “unbelieving Israel” argument to rest:

Vs. 20 Exhortation: Redirect your thinking (about the function of tongues)

Vs. 21 OT Text: Tongues do not lead to obedience

Vs. 22 Application: So then –

Assertion 1 – Tongues a sign not for believers A.

But for unbelievers B.

Assertion 2 – Prophecy [a sign] not for unbelievers B’

But for believers A’

Vs. 23 Illustration 1 – Effect of tongues (1) on unbelievers (B)

Vs. 24-25 Illustration 2 – Effect of prophecy (2) on unbelievers (B)[22]

It is important to notice, first, that the discussion is permeated by the response of unbelievers who are visiting the Corinthian community. They are not specified as unbelieving Jews but are just general unbelievers. The entire structure of the passage points to the inability of uninterpreted tongues to convict them of their need for obedience to God. This is emphasized by the fact that both illustrations are directed at unbelievers in general, one demonstrating the ineffectiveness of uninterpreted tongues, the other, by contrast, demonstrating the effectiveness of prophecy. In fact, the point of the entire argument is summed up in that uninterpreted tongues neither calls the unbeliever to obedience nor does it actually edify the believing community as a whole. Thus, it is inappropriate for the public assembly. To take Paul’s argument anywhere else is to ignore the flow of the argument and the structure of the passage.

CONCLUSION

The arguments for the Cessationist position are varied and nuanced. These are not ignorant people who lack hermeneutical prowess or simply want to read their theology onto the biblical text. I would never question their sincerity and desire to know the full revelation of God. However, I believe that in the case of these chapters, they are mistaken primarily because they let their theological agenda determine how the text should be read.

While critiquing their arguments from these passages does not demonstrate the truthfulness of the charismatic position, it does mean that Cessationists must use other texts and other arguments to make their points. Paul’s concern in I Corinthians 13-14 does not lie in giving us an indication of when tongues will cease. Rather, Paul’s concerns lie with the Corinthians having a proper eschatological and ecclesiastical understanding of this gift, especially in comparison with prophecy.

To take Paul’s arguments and make them answer our questions instead of his is a hermeneutical fallacy that should be avoided at all costs. This trap, unfortunately, is the trap I see scholars on both sides falling prey to. The questions determining the Cessationist answers are largely questions raised in their reactions to the abuses of the charismatic movement.[23]

In the end, exegesis aside, I think this is the fundamental problem. In making Paul argue our points, we silence Paul’s voice in favor of our own. We then convince ourselves that Paul’s voice sounds amazingly like our post-Enlightenment voices. In the end, I agree with Craig Keener when he says, “I believe the position that supernatural gifts have ceased is one that no Bible reader would hold if not previously taught to do so. It is also a position based on a modern reading of the text shaped by Enlightenment culture.”[24] Until we learn to discern Paul’s voice from our own, we will never escape this problem.


[1] John F. MacArthur, Jr., Charismatic Chaos. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Pub. House, 1992), 224.

[2] Once again, MacArthur is guilty of a word study fallacy. One cannot simply transport the positive or negative force of a word from one context to another without justification. There is no reason, grammatically or contextually, to assume Paul is using oivkodomei/ in a pejorative sense in 14:4. He even acknowledges that oivkodomei/ may have a positive sense, but he prefers the negative because it supports is prefabricated conclusion. This may serve as an effective rhetorical tool, but it is hardly honest scholarship.

[3] MacArthur, Charismatic Chaos. 229.

[4] MacArthur, Charismatic Chaos. 229.

[5] MacArthur is actually willing to make this case, “Because of the absence of any definite article in the Greek text, it is also possible to translate this verse as, “One who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to a god” – referring to a pagan deity. Either way I Corinthians 14:2 is a condemnation, not a commendation. The context demands that.” MacArthur, Charismatic Chaos, 228. MacArthur’s “possible to translate” is certainly possible. But this conclusion is really a minority conclusion even among Cessationists. The Greek text likely does not refer to a pagan god simply because Paul is not rebuking them for idol worship! His concern is that they not even look like pagans, but he expresses no fear that they are actually worshipping pagan deities in this letter. Furthermore, if we applied MacArthur’s exegetical logic to John 1:1, the Jehovah’s Witnesses would win the debate. “Possibility” is not the same as “probability” or even “reality” for good reason. This is simply a case of MacArthur’s predispositions running a muck in his interpretation. He needs much more contextual evidence before he can conclude something this major.

[6] Fee, 657.

[7] Witherington, 282.

[8] “This sentence is often viewed as ‘merely conciliatory,’ especially in light of 12:28-30 where he argues that all will not speak in tongues. But that is not quite precise. Paul has already indicated that tongues have value for the individual, meaning in private, personal prayer (cf. vv. 14-15 and 18-19).” Fee, 658.

[9] The conditional sentence here is a Present/General construction. This means a better translation is “when I pray in tongues” and the emphasis then is on the result – the spirit praying, but the mind being unfruitful.

[10] Fee, 669.

[11] It should also be noted here that if my arguments are correct and Paul never speaks of tongues disparagingly in chapter 14, then MacArthur’s suggestion that when Paul uses the singular “tongue” he is referencing the Corinthian practice of “mere gibberish” while using the plural to refer to real languages, becomes nonsense. Furthermore, if his argument were true, Paul’s command to pray for an interpretation of the tongue (sing.) in vs. 13 would be equivalent to asking God for the meaning of a pagan utterance done in His name. MacArthur, Charismatic Chaos, 226.

[12] Witherington, 283.

[13] O.P. Robertson, “Tongues: Sign of Covenantal Curse and Blessing,” Westminster Theological Journal 38 (1975), 45-53.

[14] MacArthur argues that tongues must be a real, earthly language because in order for them to be a meaningful sign of judgment on unbelieving Israel, they would need to be a real, gentile language, not some kind of angelic speech. MacArthur, Charismatic Chaos, 227.

[15] Scholars on all sides of this discussion have recognized that Paul follows neither the LXX nor the MT very closely here. In fact, he changes the citation from both of them in order to emphasize the presence of confusing tongues.

[16] Wayne A. Grudem, The Gift of Prophecy in I Corinthians. (Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 1999), 186.

[17] Grudem, 192.

[18] C. M. Robeck Jr. “Tongues.” Dictionary of Paul and His Letters. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1993), 942.

[19] It should be noted here that the translation “mad” is misleading to the modern reader. The implication here is not “insanity,” but rather that the visitor will automatically associate the Corinthian’s ecstatic experiences with pagan ecstatic experience. As Witherington says, “Despite the usual translation of v. 23, Paul does not say there that the outsider will consider tongues speakers insane. Rather they will see them as ecstatic, carried away by some external powerful force, as a devotee of Dionysius might be.” Witherington, 284.

[20] Fee, 680. In light of this, we should be reminded that there is an element of contrast at work here – while tongues will not be effective for evangelistic purposes because it will leave the unbeliever confused, prophecy will be an understandable word that may prompt them to belief. This, not the ceasing or denigrating of tongues, is the purpose of the passage.

[21] MacArthurs reading is, again, based on an exegetical fallacy. We cannot assume that just because Paul cites an OT text that this means the texts fulfillment is solely for Jews. If this were the case, only Jews know the mind of the Lord (I Cor. 2:16/Isaiah 40:13), only Jews should pay their ministers (I Cor. 9:9/Dt. 25:4), and only Jews will receive that which God has prepared for those who love Him (I Cor. 2:9/Is. 64:4). In other words, one needs good exegetical reason to suppose the application of an OT citation is limited to the Jews, and that evidence is simply not present in chapter 14.

[22] Fee, 677.

[23] Clark Pinnock cites one good example of this, “The theory in the writings of B.B. Warfield that certain gifts have ceased…is more easily explained in terms of his polemic against the Catholic chuch and his apologetic agenda vis-à-vis miracles in the period of the Enlightenment rather than in terms of biblical data. Sadly, the Cessationist mindset becomes self-fulfilling. Failing to take seriously what the Bible sets forth as possibilities, people come under the influence of secular modernity by the back door. It leads to an experiential deficit that prevents people from entering into full Spirit reality.” Clark H. Pinnock, Flame of Love. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1996), 133.

[24] Craig S. Keener, Gift and Giver. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001), 93. Gordon Fee has a similar assessment, “Many evangelicals, who were incensed by Bultmann’s rationalism that so casually dismissed Paul’s affirmations of such works of the Spirit, adopted their own brand of rationalism to explain the absence of such phenomena in their own circles: by limiting this kind of Spirit activity to the age of the apostles.” Gordon D. Fee, Paul, the Spirit, and the People of God. (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1996), 166.


God’s Layaway Plan

Growing up poor, I remember times when my parents just didn’t have enough money to buy Christmas presents for us. They almost always seemed to work things out in the end, but there were times things just didn’t to come together. One advantage they had was Wal-Mart’s layaway program – come in and find what you want, pay a little for it now and come back and pay the rest later, at which time you can pick up your item.

This was an advantage for my parents, but not for us kids. One Christmas I remember my mom and step-father taking us to Wal-Mart and telling us we had $100 worth of items to put on layaway. This was right around the time the original Super Wal-Mart’s came out, so I ran around that store for probably 3 hours collecting baseball cards, sweaters (when I was a kid I wanted to be a preppy[1]) and a baseball glove. After our time was up we went and put the items on layaway, in full confidence that in a month we would be able to come back and get our presents.

Unfortunately, that never happened. The first payment was made and my mom and step dad never went back to pay the rest so that we could get our Christmas presents. They never gathered enough money to pay the full sum; I never saw my baseball cards.

The larger narrative of the Spirit of God never has this kind of unfortunate conclusion. The Spirit is the first-fruits of our final, eschatological inheritance…the down payment of our final redemption. At the cross our savior won redemption for the entire world and the giving of the Spirit testifies that that redemption, already accomplished, will finally be completed. The Spirit witnesses in the “right now” to the “what is yet to come” – and the “what is yet to come” is guaranteed.

“Down payment” is from the Gk. avrrabw.n, a word which comes from the business world. The idea is a contractual agreement between two parties that the buyer will make a single payment at one time, in promise of returning with the full sum at a later time. The fulfillment of the promise is GUARANTEED in the initial installment.[2] Thus, promised by the Father (Acts 1:4-5), the Spirit is God’s layaway plan for creation. The Spirit is His promise to entirely finish what He began so long ago. The Spirit is the evidence that we possess in the “now” what we still yet await for in the “then.” The Spirit is the church’s evidence that God will cash in on His promise.

The Spirit is the promise of the final redemption of this world. He is the “wellspring of Christian faith, forward-looking toward the final end.”[3] The Spirit is the promise of the Father, the promise that all our temptations and sufferings do not have the final say. We do not have to wallow in our own depravity, but the Spirit gives us hope to see “the possibility of being wholly set free” and urges us to break free from the fetters of our so-called “freedom.” This hope is entirely audacious. In the face of our failures, this crazy, Spirit induced hope emboldens us to see that our sin does not have the final say. We can truly believe that this sin is the last one.

In Ephesians 1:13, Paul speaks of this inheritance of redemption being sealed with the promised Holy Spirit. A seal was a stamped impression on wax or clay that signified ownership and authenticity. It carried with it the protection of its owner. The Spirit, then, is the evidence that we are authentically owned by God. He has purchased us out of the slave-market and has made us children! This seal marks us “until the day of redemption.” The Spirit is the evidence that God protects us and will finally redeem us.

What better message of hope exists? God is not like my parents. He does not lack the resources to go back and finally redeem his purchase. The promise of full and final redemption is made known in the initial installment, the Holy Spirit.


[1] For those of you too young, “preppy” is a near equivalence to the modern “metro-sexual.”

[2] Gordon Fee, Paul, the Spirit, and the People of God. 54.

[3] Raniero Cantalamessa, Come Creator Spirit, 212.


The Spirit and the Word

The Spirit and the Word are inseparable. They, together, are the means by which God created and sustains the world in Genesis. By His word God calls forth all of creation. By the Spirit He works chaos into cosmos. God has called the world into being with the breath of His mouth (ruach) and has made everything by his word (Ps. 33:6).

At times in the OT “spirit” and “word” are even interchangeable. Ancient Jews found it difficult to draw too sharp of a contrast between them. This is because they understood the creative and providential potential of both.

Ancient people believed they could create reality through the spoken word. The spoken word “is regarded as the medium of owners which effectively influence events.”[1]

And even today, though we hardly believe it, human words have the ability to create worlds. By gossip or negativity a world of despair may be created around a person. By love and grace a world of godliness may flourish around someone else.

If we are to have a renewed understanding of the Spirit in the church today, we need to also regain a new understanding of the power of words. With our words, we need to create a world where the Spirit and spiritual things may thrive and prosper. Clearly we do not take the freedom from God to choose to act on His own, but we can still work to create an environment that is ready when God does choose to act. This is done through a connection of Spirit and word.

Notice how so many of our spiritual charisms (gifts) essentially involve words: Tongues is itself a verbal gift, teaching and prophesy are gifts most often employed through spoken word, discernment involves distinguishing whether a spoken word came from God or not, and what would encouragement be if it did not involve a word of hope? And the list could go on.

In a world where everything has already been said, and much of our rhetoric is merely adding to the noise, we need to recover a sense of connection between the Spirit and words. If we fail to do this, “our words may well make a good deal of sense, but they will be devoid of power; it may be that they will explain something, but they will move nobody. They will be ineffectual, idle, fruitless.”[2]

We live in a world where words are considered either hurtful or meaningless. People do not trust the words of lying politicians, the words of cheating pastors, nor the words of even their own family members (“I love you.” doesn’t even mean anything anymore because it’s been so overused and commercialized!).

The church, to them, is just another political entity vying for power, a power to hurt other people. This is how the world sees the church – and we’ve given them no other model! But “if we really want the Spirit to place words on our lips, we need to live constantly in an attitude of death to our own glory, seeking only the glory of God.”[3] We need to stop our self-seeking and squelch our power-hunger. We need to humbly live in the Spirit and employ the words of humility and love.

A fresh recovery of the Spirit goes hand in hand with a recovery of our ecclesial rhetoric. From the individual struggling with gossip, to the larger community struggling with our political rhetoric, from the Pentecostal emphasizing the Spirit to the Protestants emphasizing the Word, we cannot forget that these are inseparable. The Spirit and the word, together, create and sustain worlds. As long as we ignore the value of both in the contemporary church we will continue to reap the harvest of spiritless meaninglessness.


[1] Walther Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament Vol. II. 69.

[2] Raniero Cantalamessa, Come Creator Spirit. 233.

[3] Cantalamessa, 236.


The Spirit and Ceaseless Prayer

I’ve always found impossible Paul’s imperative to “pray without ceasing.” I mean, seriously, who has time for that? Even Luther’s comment that he’s so busy that he feels he has to pray for 3 hours a day doesn’t quite get at Paul’s impracticable “without ceasing” requirement – 3 hours is hardly “without ceasing.” Surely Paul doesn’t expect me to kneel beside my bed for all 16 waking hours.

But what if “without ceasing” isn’t a measurable category? What if I can’t set my stop-watch count this kind of prayer? What if I can’t gauge it? What if it can’t be calculated by the time I spend on my knees next to my bed or verbalizing prayers from the Lectionary?

I had a liberating thought a while back: Unceasing prayer can only be done in communion with the Holy Spirit…..Here me out before you say, “Thank you Captain Obvious!”

You see, this kind of prayer cannot be put on our check-list of spiritual activities for the day. Rather, it is a continual and constant communion with the Spirit throughout the day. It is the recognition that the Spirit, as a person, is always present and always engaged with us. Like the face of the Deep in Genesis 1:2, the Spirit hovers over us, always drawing us out of the chaos and into communion.

This is also a recognition that all our mundane tasks – “when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Dt. 6:7) - can be done in communion with the Spirit, with an ever increasing awareness of the Spirit’s nearness. God is not distant, God the Spirit desires us to delve deep in Trinitarian fellowship.

So, while Luther’s 3 hours is important (especially as a discipline), we cannot restrict our communion with the Spirit of God to 1/8 of our day. The Spirit’s presence permeates every aspect of our lives. Every cry of our heart against injustice, even the ones we don’t utter prayers for, is heard by the Spirit as an appeal to the Father to set things right. When we hurt the Spirit groans and prays for us – even though we haven’t uttered a word.

No longer do I find Paul’s imperative an impossibility. No longer do I assume I don’t have time for that. No longer am I convicted by Luther’s prayer life in comparison with mine. Ceaseless is as simple communion with another person. It is the desires and thoughts which invite God to establish His kingdom on earth. It is our efforts to work with the Spirit to display, as true image bearers, God’s name in a chaotic and rebellious earth. It is the orientation of our being to God’s Spirit. It is our groanings to have heaven touch earth in such a way that Christ is revealed in all his goodness. In these things we draw deeper into communion with the Spirit, deeper into participation in the divine nature. In these things we pray without ceasing.


Hovering Over the Face of the Deep: The Spirit in Creation

For all our debates about the nature and genre of the Creation stories in Genesis 1 and 2, I’m amazed by the lack of discussion surrounding the meaning of the Spirit’s activities in 1:2 where the text reads, “And the Spirit of God hovered over the face of the deep.”

We’ve been so sidetracked by other questions, often questions the text isn’t even asking, that we’ve overlooked this odd and fascinating feature of the Creation narrative – the presence and activity of God’s Spirit.

Neglecting the Spirit’s role in creation is easy for us, not only because we’re distracted by the Creationism vs. Evolution questions, but also because we’ve severely limited the Spirits role in the Christian life to conviction of sin and assurance of salvation. Or, more specifically, we’ve limited the Spirit’s role to our subjective devotional lives.

But prior to the need for conviction of sin and the need for assurance of salvation, the Spirit was involved in the work of creation. Contrary to our privatized Pneumatology, the fingerprints of the Spirit are clearly displayed in the cosmos.

But what do those finger prints look like? And why was the Spirit hovering over the deep?

By placing the Spirit within Genesis 1:2, where we have the beginning of a movement from darkness and void to order and light, the author suggests the Spirit is the agent by which creation is given form and order. The Spirit is not removed from the creation; the Spirit is intimately with the creation, guiding its development and progress along with the spoken word of God.[1]

The Spirit’s hovering over the face of the deep is significant. For the ancient Hebrews, the sea was a force of chaos and unruliness. Often mythologized in Babylonian religions, the chaotic character of the sea is confirmed by numerous biblical accounts: Noah’s Flood and the destruction of the entire world, the crossing of the Red Sea, Jonah and the whale, Jesus and the calming of the Storm.[2] Even more telling is in Revelation when the sea is the place from which the great Beast comes (13:1) and, ultimately, a place to be destroyed in the new creation: “and there was no longer any sea.”(21:1)

Furthermore, within our narrative, it is important to note that the deep is possibly a subtle reference to a Babylonian deity, Tehoim, “a belligerent and monstrous ocean goddess.”[3] If so, Genesis 1:2 would have been an especially comforting verse for ancient Hebrews wrestling with the constant pressures of Babylonian culture and religion. Not only are the chaotic waters of the deep under the Spirit’s dominion, but implicitly and subversively, Babylonian religion is stripped of its power and demonstrated to be inferior to the religion of Yahweh. For in our narrative, the Spirit is holding at bay the chaotic forces of the world – Babylonian religious and cultural influence, to be more specific. The Spirit drifts over the deep and demonstrates the dominion of God over the disorder soiling the life of an exiled people attempting to be faithful to Yahweh’s covenant “in a foreign land.” (Ps. 137:1-4)[4]

I know the objections will be that there are no forces of evil yet b/c Genesis 3 has not yet occurred. But, again, like the Creationism debates, I don’t think that’s the question the narrative asks.[5]

Rather, it assumes some sort of rebellion has already occurred. You see, the pre-Fall narrative is replete with numerous subtle references to Babylonian deities, and even words which indicated violent subjugation (1:28).[6] Furthermore, such an answer also accounts for the mysterious serpent in Genesis 3 – another possible allusion to a Babylonian deity, and one which would, again, make a lot of sense to an ancient Hebrew person struggling with the constant influences of Babylonian religion and culture.[7]

Thus, what we’re learning from Genesis 1:2 is that those forces of chaos, those things in the world that are disorderly and unruly, are still held in check by the Spirit. The Spirit is already at work to bring the creation back to its original intention – the order of God.

The implication of this is, yes, that there were forces of death operative within creation prior to Genesis 3, but those forces of death were not yet operative within humanity or the earth in which humanity resided. But these forces of death are being checked by the Spirit. Indeed, even though the narrative makes subtle references to pagan deities, these subtle references are subtle precisely because the narrator wants the reader to see that the sea was created by God and that God is in control. The sea is not a deity, it is part of Yahweh’s creation and He is sovereign over it as the Spirit hovers over the deep and keeps it in its place (Ps. 140:9). “The author here plainly understands God’s act of creation to have involved some type of conflict with cosmic chaos, but also clearly portrays Yahweh as being more than up to the task.”[8]

So what is the Spirit doing hovering over the face of the deep? Displaying and maintaining God’s sovereignty over creation. Demonstrating God’s intimate concern for the details of His creation. And ensuring the ancient reader that God maintains control over the chaotic influences and forces of false religion. The gigs up: the Sea is demythologized and shown to be part of creation. It is not an independent agent, and insofar as chaotic forces do control the sea, Genesis 1 will not allow us to despair, as if Yahweh has lost his sovereignty.


[1] For a great discussion on the closeness of the Word and the Spirit, see Walther Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament. Vol. II (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1967), 49-50. Eichrodt argues that there are times in Israel’s history where the “word” and the “Spirit” are nearly identical in nature and indistinguishable from one another.

[2] Also see Job 7:12 when Job asks God is he is a cosmic opponent that needs to be guarded and watched – like the Sea and the Dragon.

[3] Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapter 1-17. NICOT. (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), 110.

[4] Obviously this assumes a later date for the final composition of Genesis. I have no problem saying the sources go back much further, but the final redactors included these stories with these details to communicate certain and specific theological truths to their contemporaries in exile.

[5] Notice how the narrative never says the “deep” was “good.”

[6] In 1:28, the word the first of the 2 words for “dominion/rule” is an extremely violent one. It is used elsewhere in Hebrew literature to refer to pillaging after war. The question, then, becomes, why is there a need for violent subjugation if the creation as a whole is still under God’s rule?

[7] The serpent, like the sea, is de-mythologized and is demonstrated to be merely a creature made by the Lord God, not a deity to be worshipped (3:1).

[8] Greg Body, God at War.


Everything is Sacred: A Pneumatology of the Mundane

Is Sunday more holy than Thursday? Are the Eucharistic elements more sanctified than my Wonder bread and Welch’s grape juice? Is a church sanctuary more holy than the public park?

For modern Christians the answers are generally, Yes, each of the former is more holy or sanctified than the latter.

But I want to argue in this post that the Spirit of God is active in all things – even those mundane or common objects, times, or places. In other words, Sacred Space need not be limited to cathedrals or communion tables. Sacred Time need not be restricted to Sundays or Lent. And Sacred Objects need not be restricted to Bibles, crosses or pulpits.

Rather, encountering the Spirit of God occurs with mundane things, places, and times:

 Simple kitchen tables where we meet God each morning for our devotions
 That old, tattered watch our grandfather gave us with the Bible inscription on the back, continually challenging us to faithfulness
 Thursday night dinners with old friends who challenge you to love God more.

The sacred is found in the mundane. As one scholar put it, we can and do encounter God in “quite unreligious, commonplace experiences.”

This does not mean nothing is sacred for the Christian. Rather, it means all times, places, and objects are sacred:

 Paul tells us all days are to be lived for the Lord, not just the Sabbath.
 All meat comes from God, even if it’s sacrificed to idols.
 The temple of the Holy Spirit is not built by human hands, but is the community, ekklesia, of God.
 Whatever you do with your hands do with all your might – not with eye service and pleasers of people, but unto God!
 Whether you eat or drink (mundane tasks, are they not?), do it all to the glory of the Lord.

However highly hallowed or wholly humdrum, everything must be considered consecrated.

And if everything is sacred then nothing is merely mundane. No person, no task, no object, no place and no time can be considered God-forsaken:

 As believers in a crucified savior, every person is considered sacred to God and therefore to us.
 As kingdom workers, even term papers and taxes become sacred.
 As resident aliens, each place we go the kingdom of God accompanies us.
 As agents of redemption, we redeem the time and demonstrate God’s sovereignty over all ages.

When Christians understand that nothing is mundane we are also able to see the all pervasive presence of the Spirit in all created things, great and small.

The Spirit’s presence in Genesis 1:2 suggests that the Spirit has always been involved with the creation. And now through Jesus’ death the Spirit reveals that all creation falls under Christ’s redemptive purposes (Col. 1).

In recognizing this we have the ability, indeed privileged, to observe the Spirit’s workings in the mundane tasks, we are able to be present – that is, not continually distracted by what/who is coming up next or later. We can focus on our task at hand precisely because we know that the Spirit is at work in this task, no matter how trivial. We work with the Spirit to call all things to the redemptive purposes of God.

Let me illustrate this: When I do the dishes for me wife, no matter how mundane that seems to me, I am enacting loving service within our home. I not only demonstrate my love for her as a husband, but I actually demonstrate the love of Christ for her. This demonstration of love is prompted by the Spirit. The Spirit compels me to creative means of loving my wife. But that creativity need not be only and always big-feats of romance (as important as that may be). Rather, my wife feels most loved when I simply clean the bathroom or take out the trash. Everything is sacred in our marriage – even pee stains around the toilet! (or, rather, the absence thereof) If I ignore the mundane, my wife will feel unloved.

So it is with the Spirit. The Spirit does not always and only need our great missionary allegiance. The Spirit wants us to be faithful in all our little tasks. Our excellence and present-ness in all things mundane turn those things, places, and people into sacraments – means by which we encounter the living God through physical realities. It is here that something “as ordinary as a sleeping child, as simple and objective as a flower, suddenly commands attention.” And it does so because the presence of the Spirit.

Everything is sacred, brothers and sisters. Everything.

Could it be that everything is sacred?
And all this time
Everything I’ve dreamed of
Has been right before my eyes.

-Andrew Osenga “Sacred”


The Spirit is Not the Marlboro Man

The Enlightenment, autonomous individual, that rugged, Marlboro man who needs nothing but his own cigarettes and skepticism, has fallen on tough times. To some extent[1] Postmodernity is the driving force of decay, falsifying our sense of self and reviving the idea that humans find their truest identity within community. I’m skeptical of what kind of community can ultimately be produced under a postmodern worldview, but whatever the case we can at least rejoice in the resurgence of the old axiom, “No man is an island.”

 

So it is with the Spirit: The Spirit of God is not an autonomous self. The Spirit finds identity within two communities: The community of the Trinity and the community of Ecclesia – the church. Ever longing to bring these two communities into union, the Spirit actively comes forth from the Father in wooing joy, enjoining the church to greater participation in the divine nature.

 

Trinitarian Community

The biblical picture of the Spirit is divine power and life. Within the Trinitarian community, the Spirit as power and life is the means by which the persons of the Trinity love one another. In Augustine’s terms, as cited earlier, the Spirit is the “bond of love” within the Trinitarian dance.

 

As the bond of love, the Spirit is seen here in terms of relationality. The Spirit relates to and submits to the other persons of the Trinity without losing individuality and identity. The community is not forced upon the Spirit in the sense of overshadowing the Spirit as an individual person. But neither is the individual person of the Spirit the primary concern overriding the community. Within the Trinitarian community there is a dance of love whereby each member sacrificially loves the others and places the others above themselves. This is essential to the nature of God and therefore to the nature of the Spirit.

 

Community of Ecclesia[2]

The Spirit is not restricted to heavenly relationships, but has willfully and ecstatically chosen to participate in the human community we call the church.[3] “Spirit brings persons together in heaven and on earth, being both the medium of the communication of Jesus with the Father and the medium of our communication with brothers and sisters.”[4]

 

The Spirit is the bond of love between the church and her savior. She sweeps the church up in her arms, carrying us to the Father, urging us to further sanctification, and all the while liberally lavishing on us the love of our Lord.

 

Yet the Spirit is not merely a force pushing us to God; the Spirit leads us with a chord of gentleness and compassion, convicting us when we fall behind, bestowing grace on us when we fail, and grieving with us when we mourn.

 

Furthermore, the relationship of the Spirit to the church is not just vertically oriented. The Spirit moves us to further union with our brothers and sisters in Christ. The Spirit works amongst Calvinists and Arminians, Complementarians and Egalitarians precisely because none of these systems can fully conceptualize Ruach. The wind cannot be constrained in our canisters of theological conjecture.  

 

The love of the Trinitarian community was perfect before the Creation. Yet that perfect love desired (did not need) someone to share its love with. God created humanity and called out Israel and then the church as the object of His affection. God desires to draw us, through the Spirit, into that Trinitarian dance of love whereby there is mutual submission and communion. The Spirit is the church’s answer to its individualism and self-focus by wooing us to participation in Trinitarian love. We were “created in the first place to reflect God’s own perfection, and [our] destiny is to participate in the very life of God.”[5]


[1] I qualify this statement because there are aspects of Postmodernity which cling ferociously to the myth of the autonomous individual. So, it is neither the final answer nor is it the only challenge to individualism.

[2] I hope to expand on these thoughts later, so excuse what is left out in this brief rundown.

[3] Let me add at this point that I do not think the Spirit is restricted to Ecclesia either. But I will spell that out in a later post.

[4] Clark Pinnock, Flame of Love. 39.

[5] Pinnock, 41.


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