The Cross is Not Enough: Why the Christian Story Needs Easter

Five years ago yesterday, the reality of human mortality pierced my soul like a dark, cursed knife that causes no physical harm, but mortally wounds, nonetheless. Before dad died, death was an abstraction, a thing to be vaguely aware of, a philosophical problem to be discussed. Death was a rabid dog, sure, but one who lacked fangs.

Some of us are graced with a life that avoids the pain of death for decades. Some of us face it much earlier. But if there is one thing true about death, it is that none of us can escape it. Before our own deaths, we will all experience that deep puncture of the soul, that knife twisting and doubling us over in pain.

All of us.

We cannot hide.

And great art calls us out of our hiding…even if, at times, it has no solution.

For authors in particular, and therefore for we who enter their stories, death is the great narrative driver. Always the ultimate Dark One, death creates and destroys characters, manipulating plots, and at times leaving us in awe of its power. And so, in any great narrative, it is the one thing that must be defeated if the story is to progress. The grave cannot be the end of our stories.

In the narrative of contemporary Christianity, we are too quick to jump on Christ’s cross as that which secures the afterlife for us. We are waiting for eternity, waiting for the halos and the angels. We are waiting for, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

But what good is the afterlife if death is not defeated? What good is a Messiah who stays in the grave? What difference does forgiven sins make if death still reigns? If we merely go to heaven when we die, then this world is not set right…it’s just forgotten. And if this world is not set right, then God loses! 

This is why the cross is not enough. This is why the Christian story needs resurrection. Because the resurrection says the Dark One cannot win. The cursed knife will be blunted…no, destroyed. The rabid dog with the deadly fangs will be put down. Evil and injustice will not merely cease to exist, they will be put to rights. Justice will prevail in the end, not merely because there will be an absence of evil, but because evil will be defeated.

We are waiting, not for an afterlife where we get to forget about this life. We are waiting for resurrection. A defeat of death, itself. An elimination of it’s power. A memory renewed so that all the death that ever was will be swallowed up in life…not forgotten, but set in a better context. In the context of a God who took on human skin, lived a life of justice in confrontation with evil, died at the hands of that evil, then resurrected from the grave in defeat of the powers of evil. He defeats death. He defeats evil, something we could never do on our own. And then enables us to turn around, and in the power of his Spirit, work for the defeat of death and the defeat of evil in our world.

Death is no abstraction. It is no philosophical concept. It drives our narrative as the great antagonist. But the resurrection of Jesus, soon to be seen, means that the grave is not the end of our stories. Because resurrection is also no abstraction or philosophical concept. It is the great protagonist. Or rather, the One who resurrected is the great Protagonist.

Your days are waiting…to end. But the end is now. Five years ago death became real to me. But in the five years since, resurrection life has become even more real.  Easter Sunday means there is more to the Christian story than the cross. In a sense, the cross is not enough. Without resurrection, our story goes nowhere…it’s a permanent tragedy.

Christ’s Authority to Give Eternal Life to All People: Thoughts on John 17:2

I was reading in Jesus’ prayer from John 17 this morning and came across a phrase my Reformed friends often use to point to election, “For you (the Father) grant him (Jesus) authority over all people* that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him.” (NIV)

I’ve heard John Piper and others talk about this phrase as incontrovertible evidence that the writer of John’s gospel was, indeed, a Calvinist.

I think this verse can be read that way. And in that sense, I wan to be respectful to my Reformed friends.

Nevertheless, I don’t think it has to be read that way. I fact, I think this very verse helps us see an alternative interpretation.

The sentence is divided into 2 phrases: 1. For you grant him authority over all people, and 2. that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him.

If I understand them right, my Reformed friends essentially say that phrase 2 refers to a specific subset of phrase 1. In other words, there’s almost a sort of contrast between the two phrases. They could paraphrase the verses like this, “For you, Father, gave him, Jesus, authority over all people, but specifically, Jesus will give eternal life to only those the Father gave him.”

In this sense, my Reformed friends can maintain that Jesus is the lord of the world, while only being the savior of those whom God unconditionally elected.

But…

…as I said, I don’t think this has to be the only option. In fact, I see no reason to see these phrases as contrasting. Nor do I think phrase 2 refers to a specific subset of phrase 1. And I see no reason to assume the “all” in phrase 2 refers to anything less (qualitatively or quantitatively) than the “all” in phrase 1.

Instead of a contrast, I see a synonymous parallelism.

The parallelism is established by the usage of two key words used in both phrases:  “gave/di,dwmi,” and (as already noted) “all.”**

If the statements are synonymous parallels and not in contrast, then the two phrases essentially become equal: God gave all flesh = all those the Father gave Jesus.

Let me paraphrase John 17:2 like this, “For you, Father, gave him, Jesus, authority over all flesh in order that he might give eternal life to those over whom the Father gave him authority.”

Or, let me say it one other way…

“For you, Father, gave Jesus authority over all flesh in order that he might give eternal life to all flesh.”

The authority Jesus has is SPECIFICALLY FOR THE PURPOSE of bestowing eternal life. That’s the point Jesus is making. And assuming I’m right in this, why in the world would God give him authority to give eternal life to all, but then not give him all for the purpose of eternal life? That just would not make sense.

In other words, I think this verse only makes coherent sense of Jesus’ authority and God’s gifting if, and only if, the statements are intended to by synonymous parallels.

 

So, there you go. I’m not sure if I’m right. I haven’t found a commentator to agree with me…which is always a good sign and a bad sign. So, tell me what you think.

 

* “People” is not John’s word in the Greek. John’s word is sa,rx – flesh.

*Two different Gk. words are used for “all,” but both refer to an all encompassing or holistic reality. In other words, I don’t see any exegetical significance to the word choice here. I think it’s just to break up the monotony. John does that sometimes.

When Light and Life are Extingished, Love Must Ignite.

I’m working on my sermon on Jesus washing the disciple’s feet in John 13. Structurally, it’s the opening scene that leads to the cross, in John’s gospel.

And I’ve come across some interesting verbage stats…

For the first 12 chapters, the words light and life appear in John’s gospel a combined 82 times.

But from chapter 13 on, the words occur a combined 6 times.

So the light and life are being extinguished as the story moves toward the cross.

BUT

 

In the first 12 chapters, the word love occurs only 6 times. But in chapters 13-17, alone, he uses the term 31 times.

So even as light and life are being extinguished, John’s emphasis on love grows.

Tell me there’s not some awesome spiritual realities happening there! This  Jesus who washes the feet of a man about to betray him to death, is saying in word and deed that even as our enemies extinguish our life and light, our love should be ignited!

How I Met Your Mother Through Functionally Atheist, Yet Providentially Designed, Circumstances

In case it’s not obvious, as this is my second post on How I Met Your Mother (HIMYM) in the last week, I like the show. While there are certainly some objectionable parts, there are redeeming qualities, too, especially as the seasons progress and you see the characters change – I’m especially thinking of Barney.

One of the things that intrigues me most about the show, and, really, I think it’s a contradiction within the characters, is the fact that the whole premise of the show is that everything that happens in Ted’s story necessarily (almost deterministically) leads him to his future wife – the “one” for him.

Though Ted is telling the story from the future, 2030, he tells it as if there is a guiding hand, a benevolent divinity, or a personal universe leading each step, ensuring that none of his efforts are wasted as his character is formed into the kind of person ready to meet his future wife. Even his accidents and happen-chance events are determined by some higher force arranging the contingencies to ensure that he will one day meet this woman.

But the contradiction I see in Ted’s character lies therein. He believes there is a benevolent hand leading him to “the one” for him, but at the same time, he never consults that benevolent being (aside from one time when we see him doing an Indian rain-dance) for guidance. He believes a hand is determining his every step, but this belief never translates into tangible, concrete interaction with this being.

In fact, as far as Ted’s character goes, in every other way, he is functionally an atheist. He tells his story with this guiding hand leading him to The Mother, but the guiding hand never impinges upon his life in a way that would cause him to reflect on who he is or what he was created for.

But, interestingly, while I see a contradiction in the writing of Ted’s character, the fact is, I think the writers of HIMYM are actually quite realistic in their writing of these contradictions.

In our culture, we have this romantic notion that there’s “one person”* out there for us, and that all our steps and missteps will be providentially used by a benevolent guiding hand to ensure we encounter this person. But the contradiction within most of us is that, though we talk about “the one” this way, every other part of our lives contradicts a belief in such a benevolent hand. In fact, even people who are intellectual atheists still talk as if there is “one person” out there for them. But this “one person” idea actually necessitates a belief in some kind of God or gods…and more specifically, good and loving ones who care about our happiness.

Ted’s a functional atheist in every way except in his belief that his story must climax with a divinely ordained encounter with The Mother of his children. But this contradiction is the very same contradiction represented in many American lives where people are functionally atheists or a-religious, but when it comes to romance, they are more than willing to talk about it as if a providential, loving hand was guiding them.

Of course, that loving hand has no definitive name, qualities, or character, but that’s a discussion for another time. Right now, I’m just intrigued by the outright contradiction we Americans seem happy to live with…or remain oblivious to.

 

So what do you think? Where else do you see this contradiction at play in our culture? In your own life? 

 

 

*Expect one more post from me on this notion of “the one” for everyone.

What’s Wrong with Calvinism

This is Jerry Walls at his best…

This is a lecture Walls recently gave at Evangel University in Springfield, Missouri.

To “Hear” and Not “Do” is to to Not “Hear”

Your application might be the most dangerous time of your sermon.

Seriously.

It’s the place in the sermon where you tell people, “Now, here’s what you’re supposed to go do with everything I just told you.”

If you fail to tell people to go do anything, then they leave with a whole lot of head knowledge, but no clear direction for life change. And knowledge without life change is, well, just knowledge….the kind that makes us prideful.

On the other hand, the application part of your sermon is equally dangerous when you do tell people what to go do. It’s dangerous because some people actually go do it!

As I mentioned before, I learned the power of the sermon’s application in a deeply tangible way in Advent, when I said this in my sermon on John the Baptizer’s message to the crowds in Luke 3:10:

“So here’s what I say. I say, begin by taking John’s advice. Go home and look at your house. Start with your closet. Sift through everything you have and ask yourself, “Do I need this? Heck, do I even wear this?” And if the answer is no, then give it away or sell it and give the money away to Anchorage Children’s Home, the Priscilla Home, or the UM Children’s Home…Prepare for a king who was born in extreme poverty by helping out those who are less fortunate than you…It’s awfully hard to celebrate a king who came in poverty when we’re drowning in all our new things.”  

Immediately following the sermon I started getting phone calls, emails, and texts from people telling me they were going to go through their closets and their houses to get rid of extra stuff.

Even more awesome, because of one family’s passion for this, we’re probably going to start a clothing center of some sort (we had our first meeting tonight) to help the less fortunate in our county.

And then I got a phone call from a father just this morning, 2 months after this sermon was preached, telling me that his daughter got around $250 for Christmas, spent half of it on herself, and then asked her father to take the other half and use it to buy Christmas gifts for a teenager he knows who lost both of his parents and is living at a children’s home!

I have been completely amazed at how powerful application can be the last few months. It’s not just a practical “add-on” to the expository truth, it is the point of the truth. Truth must produce life-change.

To “hear” and not “do,” in scripture, is to not really “hear” at all.

Preachers need to know their responsibility both to have application present in their sermons, and also understand the huge impact their application can have in their community. Understand that the application may be the most life-altering thing you say.

And for that reason, the application is possibly the most dangerous part of the message.

 

Your turn…

What is the best sermon application you’ve ever heard? Why did it stick with you all this time? How has it changed your life? 

What Basketball Taught Me About Preaching #4: Always Warm Up

When you don’t warm up well before a game, at best you’re going to get off to a slow start. At worst, that’s when injuries happen.

I learned that to my detriment recently – At 33 years old, I just can’t go out and play without stretching like I used to. One torn hamstring was all I needed to teach me this lesson.

It’s the same in preaching. You need to be so thoroughly familiar with your sermon before you stand up to preach that nothing injurious, distracting, random, or un-thought-out comes out of your mouth.

For me, that means I have to manuscript. I have the ability to improvise while I’m up there. But if I let it, this ability would get in the way of a good, quality sermon. So I manuscript now so that, if I do improvise, I still make sure that the rest of my material is memorized so I don’t fumble all over myself when I want to come back to it.

You may not need that much accountability. I understand that I may be extreme in that need. Nevertheless, never stand up on stage only having a general idea of what you’re going to say. Whether it’s an individual point or the entire sermon, you need to have a detailed plan of where you’re going.

Bullet points aren’t enough. You need to know how you’re going to get that bullet point across. And that means you’re going to need to warm up by thinking and talking through each point of your sermon many times before you actually deliver it.

Know where you’re going! Practice it. Practice it. Practice it. And on Sunday morning, warm up by going over it a couple more times. It’ll prevent injuries – to both you and your audience.

I feel like the Harlem Globetrotters could teach us a little something about warming up: 

When the Tables Get Reversed in Hell

In the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31), Jesus continues his emphasis on this-worldly hospitality’s intimate connection with next-worldly rewards or retribution. I will probably write more on my thoughts on this in the next few days, but as a preliminary discussion, there was something really interesting I observed in the text that I’d like your thoughts on.

The Rich Man and Lazarus have died and gone into the afterlife – Hades, the realm of the dead. But in Hades there seems to be a compartment where the righteous are collected to Abraham’s side, living in comfort. But the wicked are away from Abraham’s side (across a great chasm) in a place of torment.

On the far side of the chasm, the Rich Man looks up and sees Abraham and Lazarus with him. In his torment, he commands (!) Abraham, “Father Abraham, be merciful to me and send Lazarus to get me some water.”

The command to have Abraham “send” Lazarus was initially just interesting to me. I could have read implications into it, but didn’t…at first.

But then I noticed it again in vs. 27, “Send* Lazarus to my father’s house, for I have five brothers.”

That twice the Rich Man tries to get Abraham to “send” Lazarus peeked my interest.

It seems to me, not only is the Rich Man incredibly presumptuous, even in eternal torment, to assume he can command Abraham to do anything. But even more presumptuous, he still assumes Lazarus is beneath him. He is treating Lazarus like a servant, a slave, a messenger boy, someone to do his bidding…someone who only exists for my needs.

Even Abraham he treats as a lesser person. Though he calls him ‘Father,’ he assumes he can command Abraham to obey his imperatives. He even argues with Abraham and tells Abraham that he knows better about what his brothers will or won’t listen to, when it comes to revelation to his five brothers.

Even in his torment, this guy still clings to his supposed superior identity and superior status. And even Hades doesn’t change his attitude. Though he thinks Lazarus is a slave, it turns out he is a slave to himself.

Be careful how you treat people – especially people “beneath” you, people everyone else considers expendable, people everyone else overlooks, people everyone else wants to distance themselves from. The tables may very well be reversed someday.

So you tell me: Tell me about a person you know, who, despite their high status, has done a good job at reaching out toward those people who are “beneath” them? I’d love to have a few models for this. 

*This second time, the Greek verb is a subjunctive, not an imperative, but that’s a little aside from my point here.

What Basketball Taught Me About Preaching #3: 3 Pointers Aren’t Always Necessary

I’m in love with the 3 point shot in basketball. Reggie Miller is my favorite player of all time, followed closely by Larry Bird.

In days yonder, when I had the time, I used to shoot hundreds of 3′s a day.

This obsession with 3 pointers, though, actually blinded me at moments. Anytime the game was on the line and my team was down by two, I wanted to go for the win with a 3 pointer.

But going for the win with a 3 pointer isn’t always the best basketball play. While the 3 pointer is glorious, when the game is on the line and you’re down by two, the best basketball play is to drive the lane for the tie and try to get fouled and thereby get your 3 pointer “and-one” style at the free throw line. When the three pointer works, it is, of course, amazing. But it doesn’t always work. And it’s often counterproductive. Getting to the free throw line and winning the game on point at a time is the best basketball play. 

I don’t think three point sermons are inferior or immature in any way. There are preachers who have made great use of them time and again. In fact, there is an entire generation of preachers that were trained to preach this way: “3 points and a poem.”

I think this kind of preaching has it’s place, and can often win the game.

But I also want to contend that, valuable as they are, 3 point messages don’t always win on Sunday mornings. Sometimes the best thing to do is get in the lane, get fouled, and try to win the game at the line – one point at a time.

If your sermon has one, clear, well stated point, your audience is a lot more likely to walk away remembering what you said and knowing how to apply it.

I’ve heard a ton of 3 point sermons in my life. And I’m sure they’ve been helpful to me. But I don’t remember any of them. 

But when I’ve heard 1 point sermons, with that point clearly articulated, I remember them so much longer and more easily. 

Andy Stanley says it this way, “If you have three points, you have three sermons.” I think he’s right.

Sometimes 3 pointers win the game. But more often than not, getting to the free thow line and shooting for the win one point at a time is the way to go.

It’s a shame Reggie can’t help us shoot game winning 3′s. 

Idolatry: Both Horizontal and Vertical

I don’t know if I’m right in the following thoughts. These are just some connections I’ve been making in my own mind and blogging seemed to be a good place to lay them out there. As I’ve been reading in Romans 1, the thought occurred to me, the problem with idolatry isn’t just giving allegiance to another deity (bad as that is). The problem of idolatry in Paul’s perspective is that the idols imprison the truth in injustice.

That is, idolatry is the manifestation and cause of a world where both individuals and communities practice injustice against one another and thereby deny the truth of one another’s humanity. It is the manifestation and cause of a world where neither individuals nor communities can challenge or change (or even desire to change) these unjust practices and structures that dehumanize people created in God’s image.

The truth, both on an individual and collective level, becomes imprisoned within the unjust practices and agendas of various human cultural systems. And therefore the truth is not readily obvious – for we have traded what could be known about God for gods made in our own image, gods that will support rather than challenge our unjust hearts and communities.

Wrath then becomes God’s response to human injustice. Wrath is not the unbridled passion of a heartless God. It is the inevitable outcome of a God who values just relationships both on vertical (human to God) and horizontal (human to human) planes. Wrath exists because human injustice is so grave and terrible, and our hearts so apt to imprison the truth in injustice such that we can never see the truth about ourselves or God, that creation itself becomes perverted and inverted.

And this inversion of creation takes us back to idolatry, specifically the collective idolatry of the entire human race. It is an idolatry which perpetuates and is perpetuated by injustice.

Even in the OT, idolatry wasn’t just about the differences between Yahweh and the pagan deities. Rather, in scripture, idolatry always carries with it the practical implications of unethical behavior, specifically blood shed unjustly. In other words, idolatry is both a violation of a person’s vertical relationship with God and also a violation of their horizontal relationship with other persons. When we imprison truth in injustice, this is not just a violation of our relationship with God, but is a violation of our relationships with those created in his image.

Idolatry is thus dehumanization of my neighbor (among other things).

I therefore maintain, that even if one calls on Jesus and then uses the name Jesus to dehumanize another person, or somehow uses Jesus to promote injustice, then that person is participating in idolatry even if they are using the right language. The God of scripture cannot be reduced to my ideological agenda, he will not be shackled to anyone’s unjust causes, and he will not be associated with the dehumanization even of my enemy. Idolatry is, therefore, both a horizontal and a vertical injustice.

 

So, what do you think? Do you have anything to add to this random collection of thoughts? Where have you seen idolatry and injustice combined in obvious ways? How does this change the way we talk about the gospel?