quote of the week, december 26, 2010-january 1, 2011

Now welcome for me his conception and leap for joy, if not indeed like John in the womb, then like David when the ark came to rest. Be awed at the census record through which you have been recorded in heaven, and revere the birth through which you have been released from the bonds of birth, and honor little Bethlehem, which has brought you back to paradise, and bow before the manger through which you who were without reason have been fed by the Word. Know, like the ox, your owner - Isaiah exhorts you [cf. Isaiah 1:3] - and like the donkey know your master's crib, whether you are among those who are pure and under the law and chew the cud of the Word and are prepared for sacrifice, or whether up to now you are among the impure and unfit for food or sacrifice and belong to the Gentiles. Run after the star, and bring gifts with the magi, gold and frankincense and myrrh, as to a king and a God and one dead for your sake. With the shepherds give glory, with the angels sing hymns, with the archangels dance. Let there be a common celebration of the heavenly and earthly powers. For I am persuaded that they rejoice and celebrate with us today, if indeed they love humankind and love God, just as David represents them ascending with Christ after his Passion as they come to meet him and exhort each other to lift up the gates. (Nazianzus 2008:75-76, Oration 38.17)

_______
References:
St. Gregory of Nazianzus. (2008). Festal Orations: Saint Gregory of Nazianzus (N. V. Harrison, Trans.). Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press.

ascention

(Note: For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.)

ASCENTION

Salute the last and everlasting day,
Joy at the uprising of this Sunne, and Sonne,
Yee whose just teares, or tribulation
Have purely washt, or burnt your drossie clay;
Behold the Highest, parting hence away,
Lightens the darke clouds, which hee treads upon,
Nor doth hee by ascending, show alone.
But first hee, and hee first enters the way.
O strong Ramme, which with thy blood, hast mark'd the path;
Bright Torch, which shin'st, that I the way may see,
Oh, with thine owne blood quench thine own just wrath,
And if thy holy Spirit, my Muse did raise,
Deigne at my hands this crown of prayer and praise.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

resurrection

(Note: For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.)

RESURRECTION

Moyst with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule
Shall (though she now be in extreme degree
Too stony hard, and yet too fleshly,) bee
Freed by that drop, from being starv'd, hard, or foule,
And life, by this death abled, shall controule
Death, whom thy death slue; nor shall to mee
Feare of first or last death, bring miserie,
If in thy little booke my name thou enroule,
Flesh in that long sleep is not putrified,
But made that there, of which, and for which 'twas;
Nor can by other meanes be glorified.
May then sinnes sleep, and deaths soone from me passe,
That wak't from both, I againe risen may
Salute the last, and everlasting day.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

crucifying

(Note: For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.)

CRUCIFYING

By miracles exceeding power of man,
Hee faith in some, envie in some begat,
For, what weake spirits admire, ambitious, hate;
In both affections many to him ran,
But Oh! the worst are most, they will and can,
Alas, and do, unto the immaculate,
Whose creature Fate is, now prescribe to a Fate,
Measuring selfe-lifes infinity to'a span,
Nay to an inch. Loe, where condemned hee
Beares his owne crosse, with paine, yet by and by
When it bears him, he must beare more and die.
Now thou art lifted up, draw mee to thee,
And at thy death giving such liberall dole,
Moyst, with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

temple

(Note: For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.)

TEMPLE

With his kinde mother who partakes thy woe,
Joseph turne back; see where your child doth sit,
Blowing, yea blowing out those sparks of wit,
Which himselfe on the Doctors did bestow;
The Word but lately could not speake, and loe
It sodenly speakes wonders, whence comes it,
That all which was, and all which should be writ,
A shallow seeming child, should deeply know?
His Godhead was not soule to his manhood,
Nor had time mellowed him to this ripenesse,
But as for one which hath a long taske, 'tis good,
With the Sunne to beginne his businesse,
He in his ages morning thus began
By miracles exceeding power of man.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

nativitie

(Note: For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.)

NATIVITIE

Immensity cloystered in thy deare wombe,
Now leaves his welbelov'd imprisonment,
There he hath made himselfe to his intent
Weake enough, now into our world to come;
But Oh, for thee, for him, hath th'Inne no roome?
Yet lay him in this stall, and from the Orient,
Starres, and wisemen will travell to prevent
Th'effect of Herods jealous generall doome.
Seest thou, my Soule, with thy faiths eyes, how he
Which fils all place, yet none holds him, doth lye?
Was not his pity towards thee wondrous high,
That would have need to be pittied by thee?
Kisse him, and with him into Egypt goe,
With his kinde mother, who partakes thy woe.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

annunciation

(Note: For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.)

ANNUNCIATION

Salvation to all that will is nigh;
That All, which alwayes is All every where,
Which cannot sinne, and yet all sinnes must beare,
Which cannot die, yet cannot chuse but die,
Loe, faithful Virgin, yeelds himselfe to lye
In prison, in thy wombe; and though he there
Can take no sinne, nor thou give, yet he'will weare
Taken from thence, flesh, which deaths force may trie.
Ere by the spheares time was created, thou
Was in his minde, who is thy Sonne, and Brother;
Whom thou conceiv'st, conceiv'd; yea thou art now
Thy Makers maker, and thy Fathers mother;
Thou'hast light in darke; and shutst in little roome,
Immensity cloystered in thy deare wombe.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

la corona

For this week leading up to and culminating with Christmas, I will be posting a series of seven sonnets by the metaphysical poet John Donne (1572-1631). In light of Behr's call to view the work of Christ holistically (click here for the post), I invite the reader to do just that, considering the progression and profound interrelatedness of the themes these sonnets treat as they weave through the life and work of Christ. The hope is that we might be again encouraged not to isolate, say, the incarnation of the Son of God, but view it in light of the entirety of God's beautiful plan of redemption through Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come.

LA CORONA

Deigne at my hands this crowne of prayer and praise,
Weav'd in my low devout melancholie,
Thou which of good, hast, yea art treasury,
All changing unchang'd Antient of dayes;
But doe not, with a vile crowne of fraile bayes,
Reward my muses white sincerity,
But what thy thorny crowne gain'd, that give mee,
A crowne of Glory, which doth flower alwayes;
The ends crowne our workes, but thou crown'st our ends,
For, at our end begins our endlesse rest;
The first last end, now zealously possest,
With a strong sober thirst, my soul attends.
'Tis time that heart and voice be lifted high,
Salvation to all that will is nigh.

_______
References:
Hayward, John. (ed.). (1950). John Donne: A Selection of His Poetry. New York, NY: Penguin.

icons of redeeming love

Around this time of year, a fleeting, but meaningful, transformation takes place within even the staunchest of non-liturgists, anti-traditionalists and individualists. This particular season seems to arouse in us an all too dormant desire to encode our world with meaning and rich symbolism through images and creation, declaring the unification of earth with heaven by the God-man, Jesus Christ. Winter, trees, candles, wreaths, ornaments, colors, nativity scenes, lights, scents, music, clothing/vestments, decorations - all of these become icons of redemption as we worship together the Savior of humankind (and all of yearning creation), drawing and being drawn together in mystical union as the body of Christ, joining in adoration the chorus of the universe as we worship in God's cosmic cathedral. In this way, even we, who are not typically wont to, indeed become liturgical in our orientation, traditional in our foundation, and communal in our expression. During Christmas, we reveal (even if ever so slightly) the freedom found in needless beauty and our bent toward litury. And, bear in mind that here I intend "liturgy" in a broad sense, in some basic air of agreement with Alexander Schmemann who writes (though we should note that he is speaking in the context of the Eucharist as liturgy):

There exist today "liturgical" and "non-liturgical" churches and Christians. But this controversy is unncecessary for it has its roots in one basic misunderstanding - the "liturgical" understanding of the liturgy. This is the reduction of the liturgy to "cultic" categories, its definition as a sacred act of worship, different as such not only from the "profane" area of life, but even from all other activities of the Church itself. But this is not the original meaning of the Greek word leitourgia. It meant an action by which a group of people become something corporately which they had not been as a mere collection of individuals - a whole greater than the sum of its parts. It meant also a function or "ministry" of a man or a group on behalf of and in the interest of the whole community. Thus the leitourgia of ancient Israel was the corporate work of a chosen few to prepare the world for the coming of the Messiah. And in this very act of preparation they became what they were meant to be, the Israel of God, the chosen instrument of His purpose.
Thus the Church itself is a leitourgia, a ministry, a calling to act in this world afte the fashion of Christ, to bear testimony to Him and His kingdom. (Schmemann 1973 [1963]:25)

Couching our activities in Schmemann's language, when we gather together to sing hymns and spiritual songs, feast together, pray together, and prepare together during this advent season, we recognize the inherently communal aspect of the body of Christ (which is corporate in perhaps the truest sense of the word) as we, by God's grace, become what we are meant to be and "bear testimony to Him and His kingdom." In this season, through art we beautify and adorn - ascribing, constructing, but also recognizing meaning as we coporately manifest the already/not-yet tension of being between two comings.

It is, perhaps, too easy to dismiss our sense of excitement, longing, and anticipation as simply childhood nostalgia; but we deprive ourselves of something deeper that verily relates to childlikeness, and the bent that directs us toward liturgy. Consider the following observations by the Catholic priest Romano Guardini (1885-1968) regarding "the playfulness of the liturgy":

The liturgy offers something higher. In it man, with the aid of grace, is given the opportunity of realizing his fundamental essence, of really becoming that which according to his divine destiny he should be and longs to be, a child of God. In the liturgy he is to go "unto God, Who giveth joy to his youth." All this is, of course, on the supernatural plane, but at the same time it corresponds to the same degree to the inner needs of man's nature. Because the life of the liturgy is higher than that to which customary reality gives both the opportunity and form of expression, it adopts suitable forms and methods from that sphere in which alone they are to be found, that is to say, from art. It speaks measuredly and melodiously; it employs formal, rhythmic gestures; it is clothed in colors and garments foreign to everyday life; it is carried out in places and at hours which have been co-ordinated and systematized according to sublimer laws than ours. It is in the highest sense the life of a child, in which everything is picture, melody and song.

Such is the wonderful fact which the liturgy demonstrates; it unites art and reality in a supernatural childhood before God. That which formerly existed in the world of unreality only, and was rendered in art as the expression of mature human life, has here become reality. These forms are the vital expression of real and frankly supernatural life. But this has one thing in common with the play of the child and the life of art - it has no purpose, but it is full of profound meaning. It is not work, but play. To be at play, or to fashion a work of art in God's sight - not to create, but to exist - such is the essence of the liturgy. From this is derived its sublime mingling of profound earnestness and divine joyfulness. The fact that the liturgy gives a thousand strict and careful directions on the quality of the language, gestures, colors, garments and instruments which it employs, can only be understood by those who are able to take art and play seriously. (Guardini 1998:70)

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (now Pope Benedic XVI), in the introduction to his book of the same title as Guardini's, further expounds the notion of liturgy as play and the utter needlessness of its beauty:

Children's play seems in many ways a kind of anticipation of life, a rehearsal for later life, without its burdens and gravity. On this analogy, the liturgy would be a reminder that we are all children, or should be children, in relation to that true life toward which we yearn to go. Liturgy would be a kind of anticipation, a rehearsal, a prelude for the life to come, for eternal life, which St. Augustine describes, by contrast with life in this world, as a fabric woven, no longer of exigency and need, but of the freedom of generosity and gift. Seen thus, liturgy would be the rediscovery witin us of true childhood, of openness to a greatnes still to come, which is still unfulfilled in adult life. Here, then, would be the concrete form of hope, which lives in advance the life to come, the only true life, which initiates us into authentic life - the life of freedom, of intimate union with God, of pure openness to our fellowman. Thus it would imprint on the seemingly real life of daily existence the mark of future freedom, break open the walls that confine us, and let the light of heaven shine down upon earth. (Ratzinger 2000:14)

And so, too, the Christmas season is marked by "useless beauty" (Scmemann 1973 [1963]:30) and the sense of "play" by which we embrace true childhood as a key attribute of the people of God's kingdom (Mark 10:14-15). This is the non-utilitarian beauty that belies practicality, the adornment which elevates above the seemingly mundane. In every wreath, ribbon, tablecloth, and candle, we demonstrate the "unncessary" nature of beauty, which, far from depriving it of meaning, collaborates to inform its meaning as we, in joyful freedom, anticipate the life of the world to come.

_______
References:
Guardini, Romano. (1998). The Spirit of the Liturgy (A. Lane, Trans.). New York, NY: Herder & Herder. (Original English translation published in 1930; Original work in German published some time during WWI)

Ratzinger, Joseph. (2000). The Spirit of the Liturgy (J. Saward, Trans.). San Francisco, CA: Ignatius.

Schmemman, Alexander. (1973). For the Life of the World: Saraments and Orthodoxy. Crestwook, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press. (Original work published 1963)

quote of the week, december 19-25, 2010

All time is God's time. When the eternal Word assume human existence in the Incarnation, he also assumed temporality. He drew time into the sphere of eternity. At first it seems as if there can be no connection between the "always" of eternity and the "flowing away" of time. But now the Eternal One himself has taken time to himself. In the Son, time co-exists with eternity. God's eternity is not mere time-lessness, the negation of time, but a power over time that is really present with time and in time. In the Word incarnate, who remains man forever, the presence of eternity with time becomes bodily and concrete.

[...] The feast of Christ's birth on December 25 - nine months after March 25 [the day that the early "Church honored both the Annunciation by the angel and the Lord's conception by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the virgin"] - developed in the West in the course of the third century, while the East - probably because of a different calendar - at first celebrated January 6 as the birthday of Christ. It may also have been the response to a feast of the birth of the mythical gods observed on this day in Alexandria. The claim used to be made that December 25 developed in opposition to the Mithras myth, or as a Christian response to the cult of the unconquered sun promoted by Roman emperors in the third century in their efforts to establish a new imperial religion. However, these old theories can no longer be sustained. The decisive factor was the connection of creation and the Cross, of creation and Christ's conception. In the light of the "hour of Jesus", these dates brought the cosmos into the picture. The cosmos was now thought of as the pre-annunciation of Christ, the Firstborn of creation (cf. Col. 1:15). It is he of whom creation speaks, and it is by him that its mute message is deciphered. The cosmos finds its true meaning in the firstborn of creation, who has now entered history. From him comes the assurance that the adventure of creation, of a world with its own free existence distinct from God, does not end up in absurdity and tragedy but, throughout all its calamities and upheavals, remains something positive. God's blessing of the seventh day is truly and definitively confirmed. The fact that the dates of the Lord's conception and birth had a cosmic significance means that Christians can take on the challenge of the sun cult and incorporate it positively into the theology of the Christmas feast. There are magnificent texts that express this synthesis. For example, St. Jerome in a Christmas sermon says this: "Even creation approves our preaching. The universe itself bears witness to the truth of our words. Up to this day the dark days increase, but from this day the darkness decreases...The light advances, while the night retreats." Likewise, St. Augustine, preaching at Christmas to his flock in Hippo: "Brethren, let us rejoice. The heathen, too, may still make merry, for this day consecrates for us, not the visible sun, but the sun's invisible Creator." (Ratzinger 2000:92, 107-108)

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. (John 1:1-5)

For [the Father] rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us into the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. (Colossians 1:13-15)

The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
Day to day pours forth His speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
Their voice is not heard.
Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their utterances to the end of the world.
In them He has placed a tent for the sun,
Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber;
It rejoices as a strong man to run his course.
Its rising is from one end of the heavens,
And its circuit to the other end of them;
And there is nothing hidden from its heat. (Psalm 19:1-6)
_______
References:
Ratzinger, Joseph. (2000). The Spirit of the Liturgy (J. Saward, Trans.). San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press.

quote of the week, december 12-18, 2010

The passage below comes from John Behr's preface to his own book The Mystery of Christ: Life in Death. This section opens with the following quote from the Danish philosopher/theologian Søren Kierkegaard:

We only understand life backwards, but we must live forwards.

Behr maintains that Kierkegaard's comment applies to our modern understanding of theology, which has become fragmented. Moreover, Behr argues that, with regard to the Incarnation, the disciples understood and enterpreted this "event" as such retrospectively, in the light of Christ's Passion. I have selected this because it has potential implications for how we understand the Incarnation - its purpose, meaning, and relation to the Passion, crucifixion, resurrection, ascension, and coming of Jesus Christ - which is often the content of our contemplation during the Advent season. The way I read his work, Behr encourages us to consider the Incarnation of Christ in a holistic, "timeless" sense, rather than in a manner which is fragmented and compartmentalized. He writes:

It is sometimes said that for antiquity truth is what is, for enlightened modernity it is what was, and for postmodernity it is that which will have been. The historicizing approach of modernity places the truth of Jesus Christ firmly in the past - how he was born and what he did and said - and subjects his truth to our criteria of historicity, which are ultimately no more than a matter of what we find plausible (as evidenced by the "Jesus Seminar"). For antiquity, on the other hand, the truth of Christ is eternal, or better, timeless: the crucified and risen Lord is the one of whom scripture has always spoken. Yet, as the disciples come to recognize him, as the subject of scripture and in the breaking of the bread, he disappears from their sight (Lk 24.31). The Christ of Christian faith, revealed concretely in and through the apostolic proclamation of the crucified and risen Lord in accordance with scripture, is an eschatological figure, the Coming One. Hence the importance of the other half of Kierkegaard's observation, that while we understand retrospectively, we nevertheless live into the future. As we leave behind modernity's fascination with the past, it is possible that we we are once again in a position to recognize the eschatological Lord.

This, moreover, allows us to see a greater depth of meaning in the term "Incarnation." As it is only in the light of the Passsion that we can even speak of "Incarntion," the sense of the term is pregnant with greater fertility: by the proclamation of his gospel, the apostle Paul is in travail giving birth to Christ in those who receive his gospel (cf. Gal. 4.19), that is, who accept the interpretation he offers in accordance with the scripture, and are thereby born again to be the body of Christ. This is still in process, as our life is "hidden in Christ with God" (Col. 3.3). Yet the indeterminacy celebrated by post-modernism, locating the "event" always in the future, is given concrete content in Christian theology, by anchoring its account in the crucial moment of the passion. The timeless subject of Christian theology is the crucified and risen Lord, the one who "was from the beginning, [who] appeared new yet is to be found old, and is ever young, being born in the hearts of the saints." (Behr 2006:17-18)

_______
References:
Behr, John. (2006). The Mystery of Christ: Life in Death. Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press.

quote of the week, december 5-11, 2010

Writing on one way in which "theological beliefs change the way we value other things," George M. Marsden (Francis A. McAnaney Professor of History Emeritus at the University of Notre Dame) notes how the incarnation informs one of the potentially "positive contributions of Christianity to scholarship" (Marsden 1997:82):

For the Christian the incarnation is not an abstraction; it is central to the revelation of the character of God. [...] God's display of his sacrificial love to us in Christ relativizes our self-righteousness. United with Christ, we are to love even those whom we would naturally despise.

This revelation of the character of God in Christ should thus change our sensibilities toward other humans. In the incarnation, Christ emptied himself and became poor for our sake. He identified with the poor and the ordinary. Christ went so far as to instruct us that when we see the poor and destitute we see him. How we act toward them is an indicator of how we love him. Christ's incarnation honors what the world has not usually honored.

Once again we run into a central irony in attempting to isolate the implications of Christian commitments for our scholarship. The sensibilities of Christians toward the poor and the weak have been dulled by the very success of the assimilation of these same sensibilities by the wider Western culture and lately world culture. [...] One of the great tasks of Christian scholarship is to recover some dimensions of Christian teaching which have been alienated from their theological roots. This task is particularly urgent in an era when secular morality is adrift and traditional Christianity itself is too often beholden to the politics of self-interest and simplistic solutions. (Marsden 1997:92-93)

_______
References:
Marsden, George M. (1997). The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

reinvigorating the banquet

Typically I try to avoid playing traffic cop, but Justin Taylor over at the Gospel Coalition recently posted an encouraging video that communicates what Taylor calls "the compelling vision" of a group named Bifrost Arts. You can access this particular post by clicking here. Below are some of the insights from Isaac Wardell, the Creative Director of Bifrost Arts, as heard in the video on Taylor's blog:

When I walk into churches, I notice a disturbing trend that people are singing less and less in congregations while our music production values may be getting better, while many of us have churches where we spend a lot of time thinking about the quality of the performance of our music, that congregational voices seem to be fading into the background...

More and more it seems like people show up to church and they expect to have a worship experience delivered to them rather than people showing up excited to sing together...

...there aren't really a whole lot of things you need to have a time of worship

This last line was, for me, especially refreshing to hear. Within this past year, a particular group arrived in town to plant a new church. Before the group met, or perhaps in their perception before they could meet, in a public building, their website listed their "startup needs," which consisted of thousands of dollars of sound and lighting equipment, video projectors and other materials aimed at producing a particular type of worship experience. Not that these are intrinsically corrupt by any means, but I couldn't help but consider the ill-placed priorities, and the realization that this has become the commonality, it has become the standard. How did we get so far from the simplicity of worshiping together in Spirit and in truth? I still keep this list of so-called "startup needs" as a stark reminder for myself.

Again quoting Wardell:

I think its important that we urge our congregants not to think of the worship service as a concert hall, as a time that we come to receive something, but to think of our worship service as a banquet hall where we come to participate in something together.

That something is not mere entertainment, it is the active, communal participation in the adoration of the Triune Godhead through song.

quote of the week, november 28-december 4, 2010

The world cannot redeem itself from all that is evil, enslaving, dehumanizing, and tragic. Only sacrificial love can do that - first Christ's, then ours as members of His mystical Body. That is the essence of the Mass and so of the whole Christian life. If our worship is to mean anything, as the biblical prophets never tired of saying, it must be translated into daily mercy and justice. When our self-offering joined to Christ's is sincere, the altar becomes the very platform of our charity. As we leave church, we carry Christ and His transforming love into our homes, schools, workplaces, and public squares. By loving and living the Mass, we draw our earthly city closer to the heavenly City, wherein all truth, goodness, and beauty coalesce in the God whose very essence is love. (Kocik 2007:82)

_______
References:
Kocik, Thomas. (2007). Loving and Living the Mass. Bethesda, MD: Zaccheus Press.

quote of the week, november 21-27, 2010

The following comes from William Barclay's commentary on the Gospel of John. In this particular section, he is treating John 6:59-65:

The real difficulty of Christianity is two-fold. It demands an act of surrender to Christ, an acceptance of Him as the final authority; and it demands a moral standard wherein only the pure in heart may see God. The disciples were well aware that Jesus had claimed to be the very life and mind of God come down to earth; their difficulty was to accept that it was true, with all the implications which are in it. And to this day many a man's refusal of Christ comes, not because Christ puzzles and baffles his intellect, but because Christ challenges and condemns his life. (Barclay 1965 [1955]:234)

_______
References:
Barclay, William. (1965). The Gospel of John: Volume 1: Chapters I to VII. Edinburgh: The Saint Andrew Press. (Original work published 1955)

the paradox of rest

"For if Joshua had given them rest, He would not have spoken of another day after that. So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His. Therefore let us be diligent to enter into that rest, so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience." (Hebrews 4:8-11)

Drawing a connection between ourselves and the Israelites whom Joshua led into the wilderness is perhaps a bit difficult given the various gaps that lie between us. This same issue, though perhaps minimized to some degree, exists for a comparison between the original readership of the epistle to the Hebrews and those who entered into Canaan. Still, there are at least two principal relationships that we are to consider between ourselves and those whom God, through Moses, led out of Egypt to enter into His promised land, through Joshua. First, just as Paul exhorts the 1st century church at Corinth that many of the events from Egypt to the wilderness "happened as examples for us, so that we would not crave evil things as they also craved [...], and they were written for our instruction, upon whom the ends of the ages have come" (1 Corinthians 10:6, 11). Hebrews repeatedly encourages us to learn from those who fell in the wilderness, so that we do not "fall, through following the same example of disobedience" (Hebrews 4:11; see also 3:6-19; 4:1, 6-7). Second, though we live in a different place at a different time, and though many if not most of us are in no way connected to the Israelites of old in a physical sense, there is much that can (and does) wed us to those who did enter God's rest. As much of Hebrews argues, it is not the temporal or spatial/geographical or ethnic aspects that unite us, but rather faith (4:2; 10:39-11:40) and belief in (4:3), and obedience to the call of God through the Holy Spirit (3:6-11; 4:6-11). And, most importantly, since Joshua (Greek, Iesous, or "Jesus") did not (and could not) truly grant the fulness of God's rest, we are united across space and time to those who "have come to Mt. Zion"(12:22) and "to God [Himself]" (12:23) through the true Jesus "who has passed through the heavens" (4:14), granting us eternal rest in the presence of God, predicated on Christ's Person and work.

Yet, though entering in God's "rest" in Hebrews 4 entails cessation from work, rooted in the rest that God instantiated when He ceased His initial creation, we are nevertheless neither expected nor encouraged to do nothing, even though "we who have believed enter into that rest" (4:3, emphasis added). Rather than being motivated toward inaction, we are compelled to action as we are transformed by the power of God, through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, into the image and likeness of Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God. The rest of God may very well be cessation from works, but it is not the absence of action. The rest of God to which we enter in through Jesus Christ is a dynamic relationship of active participation of love and adoration of the Triune Godhead, whom we worship in both this present world and the world without end. And this occurs by God's direct invitation, who has called to participate in the rest of Himself by initiating a relationship with humankind through the God-man Jesus Christ, of whom the "Jesus" of old (i.e., Joshua) was but a type. So, just as Jesus, the Son of God, is greater than the angels (Hebrews 1 & 2), and just as He is greater than Moses (Hebrews 3), so He is greater than Joshua. Therefore, Jesus alone is the "door" through which we enter into God's rest; He alone is "the way" to the Father (John 10:9). And, Jesus alone earned this entry on our behalf through His incarnation, life, death, resurrection, and ascension into heaven. For this reason, faith, belief, and obedience in Jesus Christ are paramount in establishing a lasting relationship that transcends space, time, and ethnicity in order to unite the people of God who enter His rest through the Son.

Moreover, the dynamic, participatory elements of God's rest illuminate the seeming paradox wherein we are called to "be diligent to enter that rest" (Hebrews 4:11). This exhortation appears paradoxical for at least two reasons. First, how can we enter into something to which we have already entered in (see 4:3)? Second, how can we "be diligent" or "labour" (4:11, KJV) to enter rest that has already been won/established on our behalf? Both of these relate to the the "already/not-yet" tension that we discussed in a previous post, and they also pertain to the very nature of the rest itself, mentioned above. That is, Christ, through His own eternal merits, has labored and earned for us the ability to enter God's rest. Furthermore, we experience that rest now by believing in Christ and being found in Him. Still, we "await" Christ and the "salvation" that He will usher in at His second coming (9:28, NASB). It is at this time when the life of the world to come will be realized in all of its eternal glory, filled with the "light" of the "Lord God," when we "put on immortality" and "imperishable[ness]" and are "made alive" with Christ at His "coming" (Revelation 22:5; 1 Corinthians 15:22-23, 51-53). In that interim, that is, until "we see Him just as He is" (1 John 3:2) and God "reign[s] forever and ever" (Exodus 15:18; Revelation 11:15; 22:5), we are encouraged to "be diligent to enter into that rest" (Hebrews 4:11). Our ability to do so is not even truly ours, as it is God who work in us "both to will and to work for His good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13). But, that we must do so is evident, "so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience" as did the unbelievers in the wilderness (Hebrews 4:11).

The key then, to "be[ing] diligent to enter [God's] rest," is to not only hear the words of God, but to have His words "united by faith in those who heard" (4:2). Rather than exhibiting "unbelief" (3:12, 19) and being "disobedient" (3:18; 4:6, 11), we are called to believe, and to obey in love. And, as we "labour [...] to enter into that rest" (4:11, KJV), let us be ever mindful that we are "protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time" (1 Peter 1:5, NASB). Jesus did not "lose" any of His disciples (John 18:9), and He will not lose us "who are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28). For, we give glory to God the Father,

who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ, just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise and glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved." (Ephesians 1:3-6)

We are confident to labor in order to enter into the rest of God, for we know that God, who began the "good work" in us, will "perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6). We who believe in Him and His words are assured entry because of the glorious Person and work of the true Jesus (see Hebrews 4:8). We know that we await the "Sabbath rest" of God, for "His works were finished" at the very moment when "He chose us in Him": "the foundation of the world" (Hebrews 4:3; Ephesians 1:4).

quote of the week, november 14-20, 2010

[T]he apparently inevitable next step in answering the question, Does it make sense? is the sub-question, What is the best analogy for the Trinity? This sub-question is usually the death-knell for Trinitarianism's relevance. Analogies can play a useful role in thinking about God, but when the hankering for an analogy arises right here, on the border between "Does it make sense" and "Does it matter," it is usually a sign that Trinitarian thinking has developed into a verbal project for its own sake. It has become a matter of getting the right words, so they can lead us to more of the right words. Serial proof-texting gives way to broken analogies, confronting us with an unanswerable "so what" question. How do we fall so quickly from three perfectly good questions (Is it biblical? Does it make sense? And does it matter?) to a form of discourse as hollow as an echo chamber? What is the difference between a belief in the Trinity that simply doesn't matter and one that changes everything?

What is needed is an approach to the doctrine of the Trinity that takes its stand on the exceptional reality of the Trinity, and only then moves forward to the task of verbal and conceptual clarification. The principle is, first the reality, then the explanation. (Sanders 2010:35)

_______
References:
Sanders, Fred. (2010). The Deep Things of God: How the Trinity Changes Everything. Wheaton, IL: Crossway.

(note: Dr. Sanders frequently posts essays on The Scriptorium Daily. Click here to learn more)

You are our rest, You are our peace

"...although His works were finished from the foundation of the world. For he has said somewhere concerning the seventh day: "And God rested on the seventh day from all His works"; and again in this passage, "They shall not enter My rest." Therefore, since it remains for some to enter it, and those who formerly had good news preached to them failed to enter because of disobedience, He again fixes a certain day, "Today," saying through David after so long a time just as has been said before, "Today if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts." For if Joshua had given them rest, He would not have spoken of another day after that. So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His." (Hebrews 4:3-10).

I have to start this entry with a bit of a disclaimer on biblical hermeneutics. Taking elements from popular culture as a starting point and then working these into biblical texts is never a good idea, and this strategy often ends up as interpolation and eisegesis. Furthermore, it is generally a controversially issue as to whether popular texts can (or should) be appropriated for, say, devotional use, and, to be honest, I usually trend towards disfavoring such usage.

Notwithstanding (and a big 'notwithstanding' at that!), I wanted to share a poem by Friedrich Rückert that was transposed by Franz Schubert entitled Du Bist die Ruh ("You Are the Peace"). I think many, if not all, of us have genuinely experienced a time when we became utterly enraptured at hearing or seeing some work of art or other. For me, one of these experiences was the first hearing of Schubert's Du Bist die Ruh when listening to a classical music broadcast on the local public radio station. There is often disagreement as to whether this was originally written as a divine poem or if it was penned for a lover. Taking the latter position, the author of a June 2008 article from Harper's online magazine writes that "Rückert's language wells with passion and is plainly a composition of temporal love." Still, the article goes further, describing the composition as such:

Schubert has transposed the work into an ethereal world of spirit and faith with music which is a marvel of simplicity, classical and romantic at once–music that soothes like a balm applied to an open wound. The song is haunting.

But, you need to listen to the song for yourself in order to appreciate how unmistakably apropos this characterization actually is. Then listen again, and again, and again, and again...well, you get the picture.

The first link above to the original Harper's article has a great 1932 performance by soprano Elisabeth Schumann, conducted by Carl Alwin (available on iTunes). Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau also performs this song quite well. Below are the lyrics in German, as well as the translation that Harper's provides. Again, I suggest listening to it first, then reading the lyrics (for example, while listening to it a second time).

Du bist die Ruh,
Der Friede mild,
Die Sehnsucht du
Und was sie stillt.
Ich weihe dir
Voll Lust und Schmerz
Zur Wohnung hier
Mein Aug und Herz.
Kehr ein bei mir,
Und schliesse du
Still hinter dir
Die Pforten zu.
Treib andern Schmerz
Aus dieser Brust!
Voll sei dies Herz
Von deiner Lust.
Dies Augenzelt
Von deinem Glanz
Allein erhellt,
0 füll es ganz!

You are the calm,
The restful peace:
You are my longing and
what makes it cease.
With passion and pain
To you I give
My eye and heart
Are yours to live.
Enter here and close
Quietly behind you
the gates of your
Gentle embrace.
All other grief
You dispel from my breast:
My heart swells
With the love of you.
Your brightness alone
Lights the canopy of my eyes
Oh, fill it fully!

I'll briefly conclude with why I post this in association with Hebrews 4. The theme of God's "rest" resonates throughout this chapter (the word 'rest' occurs 8 times in the first 11 verses). The title of Schubert/Rückert's work has various translations, for example, as "You are the Peace" and "You are the Calm" are both mentioned above. But, the phrase is also often translated "You are the Repose" or "You are the Rest." Considered in any (and each) of these aspects, it is intriguing to me how suitable this notion is, along with the poem in its entirety, in light of the fact that Christ, our Bridegroom who "Himself is our peace," beckons us by saying, "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest" (Ephesians 2:14; Matthew 11:28, emphasis added). I won't labor to try and convince you of this, but, to me this song expresses verbally what I have before communicated to God as an unuttered prayer. Whether it is truly proper to appropriate this song in such a manner, I won't address here, but for now I am content to know that God is our peace, He is our rest, and He is both our "longing and what makes it cease."

quote of the week, november 7-13, 2010

Jesus' challenge, which he set out from Scripture and through his sayings and acts, was that God's long-promised and longed-for kingdom rule had broken into creation through his ministry. God's promise of hope and life, the provision of the Spirit, forgiveness, and a vindicated rule had come in him. Jesus according to Scripture is a powerful figure who makes what people think of him and his mission the primary question that one must face in life. The question of Jesus is primary because it asks of us not only who Jesus is, but also who we are as God's creatures. If one seeks to know oneself or find life, one must measure oneself against the Creator and his plan. Jesus never is assessed alone, as if his identity were a historical or academic curiosity or merely a matter of private opinion. For what we think of Jesus reveals what we think of ourselves, our capabilities, and our needs, given the way that Jesus presented our need for God and Jesus' own role in that plan. Even as Jesus is the revelator of God, he is also the revelator of our hearts before God. (Bock 2002:647)

_______
References:
Bock, D. (2002). Jesus According to Scripture: Restoring the Portrait from the Gospels. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic and Apollos.

everlasting bloom

"For we who have believed enter that rest, just as He has said, "As I swore in My wrath, they shall not enter My rest," although His works were finished from the foundation of the world. For He has said somewhere concerning the seventh day: "And God rested on the seventh day from all His works"; and again in this passage, "They shall not enter My rest." Therefore, since it remains for some to enter it, and those who formerly had good news preached to them failed to enter because of disobedience, He again fixes a certain day, "Today," saying through David after so long a time just as has been said before, "Today if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts." For if Joshua had given them rest, He would not have spoken of another day after that. So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His." (Hebrews 4:3-10)

Though we experience tension from the aspects of salvation that are, from our perspective, "not-yet," there is a strong sense exhibited in the New Testament in which, for the believer, both the future and the past converge upon our present reality - we have access to a a future reality that is predicated upon the atoning work of Christ. This, then, both stirs in us a deep longing while simultaneously enacting (and drawing us toward) endless satiation of such. So, though we reside on this earth (albeit as "strangers" and pilgrims) we nevertheless are "seated [...] in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus" by having been "made alive" and "raised up" with Him (1 Peter 2:11; Ephesians 2:6; 1:20). Though we breathe, are alive, and are visible on this earth, still we are "d[ead] and our life is hidden with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3). Though we belong to terrestrial nations, yet "our citizenship is in heaven, from which we eagerly wait a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ," who will both "transform" and "reveal" us by "conform[ing]" our bodies unto His at His "glorious appearing" (Philippians 3:20-21; Colossians 3:4; Titus 2:13, KJV/NIV). Though we are scattered in cities throughout globe, yet we are gathered together because we "have come unto Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem" (Hebrews 12:22, NASB). Though some have departed from us and have "fallen asleep," and though we long to see and be with God forevermore, indeed we also have come "to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 4:14; Hebrews 12:22-24). And, as this passage in the Epistle to the Hebrews reveals, though "there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God," yet "we who have believed enter that rest" - the rest that God alone gives (4:9, 3).

The aforementioned tension is especially prevalent in our this-world experience of the "rest" of God. Even though we recognize that "we who have believed enter [God's] rest," still we have need to bear the exhortation to "be diligent to enter into that rest" (4:3, 11). In his commentary on Hebrews, John Calvin notes, "But though the completion of this rest cannot be attained in this life, yet we ought ever to strive for it" (Calvin 1853 [1549]:99). For Calvin, this striving was a "condition" upon which the believer entered into God's rest, echoing the sentiment of the exhortation in Hebrews 4:11. With that in mind, we do well to "fear," as the author of Hebrews instructs us, so that we do not "come short of" entering the rest that God has promised, especially since the promise to enter still remains (Hebrews 4:1, 6). Those who fell in the wilderness, not to enter the rest of Canaan because of a divine oath (see Psalm 95:11; Hebrews 3:11, 18; 4:3, 5), serve as an "example of disobedience" that we, in Christ, are not to follow (4:11). Later in Hebrews, we read that we are indeed "surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses" of those whom we are called to imitate, whose legacy is an example of obedience, of faith and faithfulness (Hebrews 11; 12:1).

Moreover, these "witnesses," including with those who did enter into Canaan led by Joshua, direct our gaze to Jesus Christ, the preeminent example of absolute obedience, who calls us to abide in Him so that we might obey in love and enter into the fulness of God's rest, of which Canaan was a type (Hebrews 12:2-3; John 15; Hebrews 4:6-11). The promised land of Canaan was not intended to remain the fulness of God's plan; its beauty, though tangible, is as Calvin describes, "evanescent." Again taking our cue from the text of Hebrews, the writer clearly argues from a hypothetical that "if Joshua had given them rest" then God, through David, "would not have spoken of another day after that" (4:8). God still spoke of the promise long after Joshua led the people of Israel into Canaan and, furthermore, "He again fixes a certain day, 'Today,'" for us to respond to His invitation by not only hearing the "good news" but having it "united by faith" (4:6-7, 2). For this reason, "there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God" (4:9). And, "the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from his" (4:10; see also v. 4). This "rest" includes cessation from works, but it also involves a dynamic participation in the unity of God to which Christ has called us (John 17:21). Concerning verse 10 of Hebrews chapter 4, we turn once more to Calvin's exposition:

This is a definition of that perpetual Sabbath in which there is the highest felicity, when there will be a likeness between men and God, to whom they will be united. For whatever the philosophers may have ever said of the chief good, it was nothing but cold and vain, for they confined man to himself, while it is necessary for us to go out of ourselves to find happiness. The chief good of man is nothing else but union with God; this is attained when we are formed according to him as our exemplar. (Calvin 1853 [1549]:97)

Not surprisingly, since the "perpetual Sabbath" involves the "chief good" of enjoying God forever, the theme of God's rest has richly contributed to Christian worship over the centuries. I'll close with a few relatively recent examples.

Hezekiah Butterworth, in his 1875 work on "hymns that have a history," remarks that Dr. Philip Doddridge (1702-1751), after preaching on the text of Hebrews 4:9, read, as was apparently often his custom, a self-composed hymn in which he immediately related the teaching in meter (Butterworth 1875:34-35). The following is the final verse in the hymn now known as Lord of the Sabbath, Hear our Vows:

O long expected day, begin,
Dawn on these realms of woe and sin!
Break, morn of God, upon our eyes;
And let the world's true Sun arise!

According to Butterworth, this yearning for the Sabbath rest of God deeply resonated with Dr. Doddridge in the days immediately before his passing:

Dr. Doddridge, in his last years, seemed to have a spiritual foretaste of the heavenly joy and rest. Embarking for Lisbon, in the hope of benefit from warmer air, he was able to say to his wife in his cabin, when conscious that his life was almost ended, these cheerful and triumphant words: "I cannot express to you what a morning I have had. Such delightful and transporting views of the heavenly world as my Father is now indulging me with, no words can express." He died at Lisbon of consumption, at the age of fifty. He anticipated to the last the glorious rest he sings in his hymn.

May we, too, anticipate to the last, the dawn of the day which is the eternal beginning - the day which has no night - whose every waking moment is the perpetual reality of the "highest felicity" (Calvin 1853 [1549]:98), that is, union with the Triune God.

Blessed homeland, ever fair!
Sin can never enter there;
But the soul, to life awaking,
Everlasting bloom shall wear (from Frances Jane [Fanny] Crosby's Blessed Homeland)

_______
References:
Butterworth, Hezekiah. (1875). The Story of the Hymns; Or, Hymns that Have a History: An Account of the Origin of Hymns of Personal Religious Experience. New York, NY: The American Tract Society.

Calvin, John. (1853). Commentaries of the Apostle Paul to the Hebrews (J. Owen, Trans.). Edinburgh: The Calvin Translation Society. (Original work published 1549)

quote of the week, october 31-november 6, 2010

The book that this passage comes from is, in my opinion, a must-read for anyone who loves the combination of theological and philosophical musings interwoven through recipes and cooking instructions marked by a peculiar reverence for God and profound appreciation of His creation - and all with unparalleled wit and sarcasm:

One might have hoped that, with so gracious a creature as wine, even the most ardent religionists and secularists would have made an exception to their universal custom of missing the point of things. But alas, between teetotalism on the one hand and the habit of classifying it as an alcoholic beverage on the other, they have both lost the thread of delight.
Consider first the teetotalers. They began, no doubt, by observing that some men use wine to excess - to the point at which, though the wine remains true to itself, the drinker does not. That much, I give them: drunks are a nuisance. But they went too far. Only the ungrateful or the purblind can fail to see that sugar in the grape and yeast on the skins is a divine idea, not a human one. Man's part in the process consists of honest and prudent management of the work that God has begun. Something underhanded has to be done to grape juice to keep it from running its appointed course.
Witness the teetotaling communion service. Most Protestants, I suppose, imagine that it is part of the true Reformed religion. But have they considered that, for nineteen centuries after the institution of the Eucharist, wine was the only element available for the sacrament? Do they seriously envision St. Paul or Calvin or Luther opening bottles of Welch's Grape Juice in the sacristy before the service? Luther, at least, would turn over in his grave. The WCTU version of the Lord's Supper is a bare 100 years old. Grape juice was not commercially viable until the discovery of pasteurization; and, unless I am mistaken, it was Mr. Welch himself (an ardent total abstainer) who persuaded American Protestantism to abandon what the Lord obviously though rather kindly of.
That much damage done, however, the itch for consistency took over with a vengeance. Even the Lord's own delight was explained away. One of the most fanciful pieces of exegesis I ever read began by maintaining that the Greek word for wine, as used in the Gospels, meant many other things than wine. The commentator cited, as I recall, grape juice for one meaning, and raisin paste for another. He inclined, ultimately, toward the latter.
I suppose such people are blessed with reverent minds which prevent them from drawing irreverent conclusions. I myself, however, could never resist the temptation to read raisin paste for wine in the story of the Miracle of Cana. "When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made raisin paste...he said unto the bridegroom, 'Every man at the beginning doth set forth good raisin paste, and when men have well drunk [eaten? - the text is no doubt corrupt], then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good raisin paste until now.'" Does it not whet your appetite for the critical opera omnia of such an author, where he will freely have at the length and breadth of Scripture? Can you not see his promised land flowing with peanut butter and jelly; his apocalypse, in which the great whore Babylon is given the cup of the ginger ale of the fierceness of the wrath of God?..." (Capon 2002 [1967]:89-90, emphasis original)

_______
References:
Capon, Rober F. (2002). The Supper of the Lamb: A Culinary Reflection, 2nd Ed. New York, NY: The Modern Library. (Original work published 1967)

united by faith

"Therefore, let us fear if, while a promise remains of entering His rest, any one of you may seem to have come short of it. For indeed we have had good news preached to us, just as they also; but the word they heard did not profit them, because it was not united by faith in those who heard. For we who have believed enter that rest, just as He has said, "As I swore in My wrath, they shall not enter My rest," although His works were finished from the foundation of the world." (Hebrews 4:1-3)

Are we content with merely hearing the Word of God? Perhaps, to a certain degree, we should admit, if not strive for, contentment upon solely hearing His Word. For, the divine speech is always a reminder that an all-holy God initiates a loving, communicative relationship with His creation, overcoming our sinful predicament and separation from Him; He condescends to us, speaking to us according to the rules of our language, so that we might be transformed, sanctified, and endowed with an understanding of His. But, if contentment means that when we only "hear" we are there satisfied, not to be led unto transformation, then we have not truly heard. This type of hearing is not the "one thing [that] is necessary" which Mary chose (see Luke 10:38-42). For, when it comes to the living Word of God, the type of hearing that goes no further has only registered an auditory response, instead of allowing the divine speech to run its proper course and penetrate to the depths of the body, mind, and soul. As this passage in Hebrews reminds us, we have not genuinely heard the words of God until it is "united by faith" (Hebrews 4:2). This combination (hearing + faith) results in "profit," because it results in transformation, obedience in love, and a desire to be drawn into the eternal Person whose living words bring us sweet relief and entrance into rest.

In the last chapter, we saw that the writer of Hebrews unites (to some degree or other) the concept of belief with obedience, and unbelief with disobedience. So, for example, the chapter ends by conjoining the second of these pairs:

And to whom did He swear that they would not enter His rest, but to those who were disobedient? So we see that they were not able to enter because of unbelief. (Hebrews 3:18-19, emphasis added)

That is, God disallowed entrance for those who were "disobedient" (v. 18), but the inability to enter was also predicated upon their "unbelief" (v. 19). With this in mind, the author introduces a third related concept that will reappear later in this epistle as a rather significant theme, that of "faith" (4:2). And, as we might expect, possessing faith is akin to belief and obedience, while lacking faith corresponds to unbelief and disobedience.

Now, I don't want to give the false impression that each of these terms (faith, belief, obedience) and their negative counterparts (lack of faith/faithlessness, unbelief, disobedience) are purely synonymous. Still, depending upon our own unique preconceptions and contemporary understanding(s) of these, we may or may not be surprised that they must have at least some degree of overlap in their meanings, which, for the epistle to the Hebrews (and other NT books), makes their use at times interchangeable. Consider the following points derived from the example of the Israelites in the wilderness:

If we hear the voice of the Holy Spirit, we are not to harden our hearts as did those in the wilderness (3:7-8)

Those who did harden their hearts went "astray in their hearts" and "did not know [God's] ways" (i.e., they disbelieved and were disobedient) (3:10)

Those who disbelieved and disobeyed aroused God's anger and did not enter His rest (3:11)

God swore that those who were "disobedient" that they would not enter His rest (3:18)

But, they were not able to enter because of "unbelief" (3:19)

And, "they failed to enter because of "disobedience" (4:6)

With their example in mind, we are to "take care" that we don't have "an unbelieving heart" that causes us to "fall away" (3:12)

Also, their example cautions us against following the same "disobedience" (4:11)

Those in the wilderness "heard" the Holy Spirit's words, but their hearing was not "united in faith" (4:2)

In contrast to the "disobedien[ce]" (3:18) and "unbelief" (3:19) among those who did not enter because "hear[ing]" was not "united with faith" (4:2), those "who have believed" do "enter" into God's rest (4:3)

Again, if I am being redundant, it is for the purpose of inculcating a simple truth: faith and belief and obedience are perhaps more intimately wed than we are accustomed to consider. It is all too easy in, for example, a systematic approach to theology (which I am not against), that we engender a tendency to construct rigid, separatist conceptual boundaries around notions whose boundaries actually overlap. This is further problematized if we are not careful with the manner in which we define concepts and terms. So, one very helpful way to define something is to say what it is not. But, if we assume lacking relationships among concepts such as "faith," "belief," and "obedience" then we may incidentally define these in a manner such as "faith, whatever it is, is not in any way belief and is not in any way obedience," or "belief, whatever it is, is not in any way obedience and it is not in any way faith." Though this can method can be initially helpful in our understanding, we can take it too far and create strong conceptual divisions that are not intended by the biblical authors themselves. One of the salient features of these passages in Hebrews, then, with regard to faith and belief and obedience (and their opposites), is that (in a biblical framework) we cannot pretend to possess one without the other if indeed we desire to actually enter into the rest that God has both promised and invited us to enter into. As I cautioned above, these are not completely synonymous, and we do have a burden to make explicit the way(s) in which they correspond to each other. But, despite this, it is clear that the writer of Hebrews wished that the primary audience (and now to us by extension) understand the relatedness of these concepts and how they factor in to our ability to enter or not enter into God's rest.

From this portion of Hebrews, there are at least two significant reasons why any Christian should see the relatedness of these concepts as important. First, we are in some sense just as susceptible to "falling away" as were the Israelites in the wilderness. For this reason, Hebrews encourages us to "fear" so that we do not in any way "come short of" the promise to enter into God's rest, which is still available through Jesus Christ. It is not sufficient to say that we have merely heard the "good news," because hearing is ineffective unless it is "united by faith" (4:2). The content of the Good News is made more explicit now that Christ has come, but the action of hearing can be done by believers and nonbelievers alike. Only those that believe have, by God's grace, united faith with hearing, which is evidence that we believe the Gospel with utter conviction of its truth - and this faith and belief leads to obedience in love. Conviction is not genuine if, when provided the opportunity, it does not lead to action. The one who hears and believes in faith evidences a holy desire to do the will of God because they are constrained by the love and strength that He provides while perpetually trusting in Him and being sustained by Him. Second, if (and only if) we "have believed" (in the biblical sense), we do enter into God's rest (4:3), even though we have a call to "be diligent to enter that rest" (4:11). For the one who believes toward obedience, whose hearing is united by faith, there is a present experience of God's rest that is not diminished, but rather completed and augmented by the future reality when we will know Him just as we are known (1 Corinthians 13:12). While we must take care to understand the differences between faith, belief and obedience, we also ought to give proper priority to their relatedness, so that we can truly enter into the Sabbath rest that God has promised to those who love Him (see James 1:12; 2:5).

quote of the week, october 24-30, 2010

This gem from Puritan writer John Owen is perhaps especially relevant, given the present focus on the Epistle to Hebrews and, moreover, given Hebrews' Christological emphases:

Lovely in his person, - in the glorious all-sufficiency of his Deity, gracious purity and holiness of his humanity, authority and majesty, love and power.
Lovely in his birth and incarnation; when he was rich, for our sakes becoming poor...
Lovely in the course of his life, and the more than angelical holiness and obedience which, in the depth of poverty and persecution, he exercised therein; - doing good, receiving evil; blessing, and being cursed, reviled, reproached, all his days.
Lovely in his death; yea, therein most lovely to sinners; - never more glorious and desirable than when he came broken, dead, from the cross. Then had he carried all our sins into a land of forgetfulness; then had he made peace and reconciliation for us...
Lovely in his whole employment, in his great undertaking, - in his life, death, resurrection, ascension; being a mediator between God and us, to recover the glory of God's justice, and to save our souls, - to bring us to an enjoyment of God...
Lovely in the glory and majesty wherewith he is crowned. Now he is set down at the right hand of the Majesty on high; where, though he be terrible to his enemies, yet he is full of mercy, love, and compassion, toward his beloved ones.
Lovely in all the tender care, power, and wisdom, which he exercises in protection, safe-guarding, and delivery of his church and people, in the midst of all the oppositions and persecutions whereunto they are exposed.
Lovely in all his ordinances, and the whole of that spiritually glorious worship which he has appointed to his people, whereby they draw nigh and have communion with him and his Father.
Lovely and glorious in the vengeance he taketh, and will finally execute, upon the stubborn enemies of himself and his people.
Lovely in the pardon he hath purchased and doth dispense, - in the reconciliation he hath established, - in the grace he communicates, - in the consolation he doth administer, - in the peace and joy he gives his saints, - in his assured preservation of them unto glory.
What shall I say? there is no end of his excellencies and desirableness; - "He is altogether lovely. This is our beloved, and this is our friend, O daughters of Jerusalem." (Owen 1966 [1657]:77-78; as quoted in Packer 2006:104-105)

_______
References:
Owen, J. (1966). Communion with God: The Works of John Owen, Vol. 2. Banner of Truth. (Original work published 1657)

Packer, J. I. (2006). A Puritan perspective: Trinitarian godliness according to John Owen. In T. George (Ed.), God the Holy Trinity: Reflections on Christian Faith and Practice. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 91-108.

quote of the week, october 17-23, 2010

Consider now with yourself, how unreasonably it is pretended that a life of strict piety must be a dull and anxious state. For can it, with any reason, be said that the duties and restraints of religion must render our lives heavy and melancholy, when they only deprive us of such happiness, as has been here laid before you [that of false and superficial happiness apart from God and His ways]?
Must it be tedious and tiresome to live in the continual exercise of charity, devotion, and temperance, to act wisely and virtuously, to do good to the utmost of your power, to imitate the Divine perfections, and prepare yourself for the enjoyment of God? Must it be dull and tiresome to be delivered from blindness and vanity, from false hopes and vain fears, to improve in holiness, to feel the comforts of conscience in all your actions, to know that God is your Friend, that all must work for your good, that neither life nor death, neither men nor devils, can do you any harm; but that all your sufferings and doings that are offered unto God, all your watchings and prayers, and labors of love and charity, all your improvements, are in a short time to be rewarded with everlasting glory in the presence of God [...]? (Law 2009 [1728]:135)

_______
References:
Law, William. (2009). A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers. (Original work published 1728)

a healthy fear

"Therefore, let us fear if, while a promise remains of entering His rest, any one of you may seem to have come short of it." (Hebrews 4:1)

Certain attitudes are indeed antithetical to the Christian life and our renewed mindset in Christ. Hatred, anger, and jealousy may be among the more obvious and commonly accepted to belong to the category of attitudes that the Christian ought to reject. Furthermore, these are typically unambiguous given the appropriate context. That is, while we may exhibit these qualities more often than we like, and while we understand that with God there is abundant forgiveness and mercy towards us despite these things, we never encounter a Scriptural exhortation along the lines of "Therefore, let us hate..." or "Therefore, let us be angry..." and so on and so forth. But what of fear? Many of us are quite familiar with St. John's beautiful statement that "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love" (1 John 4:18). Is fear, then, never appropriate for the Christian? If we are, in and through Christ, drawn into a loving relationship with the Triune God, is any and every existence of fear a sign that we are not yet truly "perfected in love"? Can there be such thing as a healthy fear? The short answer to this last question, and one that I feel is warranted by Scripture, is "yes." A healthy fear can exist in the heart of a Christian who has been perfected in love and, therefore, is without fear. Now this of course sounds like a blatant contradiction, which is my intention. But, rather than stopping here and accepting it as such, perhaps we might be able to conclude that it is instead a paradox whose purpose is to thrust us upon the living God in whom we trust in love that is verily perfected without fear.

Now, I will assume that for the present purposes it is understood that the type of "fear" under discussion is not the more reverence-like "fear" as in "the fear of the LORD," which is, for example, "the beginning of wisdom" and "knowledge" (Psalm 111:10; Proverbs 1:7). Rather, the fear that I have in mind is closer to the concept of "being afraid" - and it is this type of fear that Christians are often discouraged from entertaining. And this is with good reason in many cases, but the questions we are undertaking are whether it is right to reject it wholesale, and what consequences may arise if we do or do not. Recall again the fact that we do not find exhortations to hatred or jealousy in Scripture. Instead, we encounter the exact opposite - we are called to love and not be jealous. And this latter point is similarly applied to fear, as we saw in 1 John 4:18. But, the seemingly odd thing is that we are actually called to fear in certain instances and contexts. For example:

[W]ork out your salvation with fear and trembling. (Philippians 2:12)

[C]onduct yourselves in fear during the time of your stay on earth. (1 Peter 1:17)

And, in addition to these, we find yet another explicit exhortation to fear in Hebrews: "Therefore, let us fear if, while a promise remains of entering His rest, any one of you may seem to have come short of it" (Hebrews 4:1). The unescapable reality that the writer of Hebrews urges us towards is that a healthy type and amount of fear will serve as a successful deterrent of "unbelief" that inhibits us from entering God's rest (3:19).

But how do we reconcile this with 1 John 4:18 and other plentiful examples in Scripture that teach us not to fear? The answer is, I believe, found in balance that comes from a living relationship of loving dependency upon God and His eternal faithfulness. We need to fear because we can deny Him; we need not fear because He cannot deny Himself (2 Timothy 2:11-13).

The truth that Christ's inability to deny Himself gives us cause not to fear is the express purpose of what John is writing in his first epistle. We can see this by expanding upon the immediate textual context. John writes:

Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him, and he in God. We have come to know and have believed the love which God has for us. God is love, and the one who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. By this, love is perfected with us, so that we may have confidence in the day of judgment; because as He is, so also are we in this world. There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love. We love, because He first loved us. If someone says, "I love God," and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from Him, that the one who loves God should love his brother also. (1 John 4:15-21)

One of the main points that John conveys in this passage is that because of God's nature - perfect love- we abide in God and His love (and He in us) if we believe "the love which God has for us" by confessing His Son, Jesus. Therefore, "we may have confidence in the day of judgment" and need not ever fear that God will somehow fail to uphold His faithfulness - an ontological impossibility because it is likewise related to His immutability. But this confession of ours, as Hebrews clearly illustrates, is something that we "must hold fast" to, not because we are ultimately faithful, but because God is and ever will be (Hebrews 10:23; see also 2 Timothy 2:11-13; Hebrews 4:14). In the epistle to the Hebrews, the writer reminds us of those who fell in the wilderness because we are really no different than they in terms of the susceptibility to disbelieve and disobey. We must fear lest we become overly self-confident and not, therefore, utterly reliant upon the grace and faithfulness of God.

Still, as with many things, this can be taken too far and, if we do, it will be damaging to our spiritual health. Even in light of the aforementioned exhortations toward healthy fear, nowhere in Scripture are we expected to have our lives marked by an excessive state of fear that consumes our thought and, ultimately, our being. Excessive and unbridled fear borders upon denying the faithfulness of Christ and such fear indeed is "not perfected in love." The danger that results if we fear too much is that we fail to admit the reality of God's power to keep us unto salvation. The danger that results if we fear too little is that we fail to take into account the gravity of our sin and our potential to follow the example of the Israelites who fell in the wilderness. For the Christian, fear, even the healthy type (and, perhaps especially the healthy type), is a temporary attitude that, when exercised in a right and living relationship to the ever-faithful God actually keeps us closer to Him. Exercised properly, it keeps us mindful, when necessary, that in the present time a promise is open to enter God's rest, and we must "fear lest [... we] come short of it" (4:1). But we need only fear "while [the] promise remains," or, as St. Peter puts it "during the time of [our] stay on earth" (4:1; 1 Peter 1:17). In the life of the world to come, fear has neither place nor substantive meaning for those who have confessed the Son of God. In the interrum, however, it can indeed bind us closer to Christ and the promise of rest that we have through Him. And, if ever we are prone to take this further than we ought, we need only remember that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is indeed blessed, and:

[A]ccording to His great mercy [He] has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for [us], who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed at the last time. (1 Peter 1:3-5, emphasis added)

"He who began a good work in [us] will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6). Fear is then to be had in light of the eternal and infinite faithfulness of God. Paradox? Maybe. Contradiction? No.

quote of the week, october 10-16, 2010

In a chapter on "the Christian attitude of sancta sobrietas," or "holy sobriety," the late Dietrich von Hildebrand writes the following on "an existence based on illusions," which I will here quote at length:

A danger of religious illusionism attaches, in particular, to some Christians' proclivity towards disregarding - leaping over, as it were - the reality of man's terrestrial situation. To be sure, our glance should be directed to eternity; we should consider everything sub specie aeternitatis and accord a primacy to everything that is relevant to eternity and extends to its sphere. Indeed, we must ask with St. Aloysius, "What does this mean to eternity?" Yet, we must not take on a pose of dwelling already in eternity, nor simply pass over the status viae. For we must always abide in truth which we cannot due unless we realize our metaphysical situation as a whole, taking into account both our being ordained to eternity and the fact that as yet we are dwelling on this earth.
This disregard may produce its bad effects in two alternative directions. Either our mode of experience becomes ungenuine, and we dwell in a "psuedo-sublimity"; or else, we fall into debasing and banalizing the supernatural: we drag it down, unintentionally, into an atmosphere entirely of this world [...].
The error of "skipping" the terrestrial phase is typified by the attitude which some Christians take toward the cross. They imagine it to be particularly virtuous or pious behaviour if, at the death of a beloved person, they remain entirely calm and evince little or no pain - since the deceased has won eternity, and chosen the best part. They do as though they were themselves already dwelling in eternity. Again, the alternative holds: either they will develop a kind of false, morbid, foggy idealism, or else, they fall into a shallow, matter-of-fact resignation, a banal routine composure (a cheap substitute for true Christian serenity and peace of mind), becoming thus wholly insensible to the gravity and greatness of death. The fact is that they have lost the sense of the true proportions of our metaphysical situation, the true correlation of earthly life to eternity. The false familiarity they affect with eternity will either seduce them into a thin and pale idealism, an attitude of "floating in the heights," or it will lead to an implicit desubstantialization of the meaning of eternity, a "short-circuited" assimilation of its aspects to the sphere of earthly affairs. In either case, the distinction is blurred between eternity and the earth, and a denatured idea of the supernatural takes the place of its true conception. Instead of our actual transformation into a supernatural mode of being, it is the supernatural that we bring down to the level of natural concerns. (von Hildebrand 1963 [1948]: 370-371)

_______
References:
von Hildebrand, D. (1963). Transformation in Christ: On the Christian Attitude of Mind. Garden City, NY: Image Books. (Original work published 1948)

with the object of obedience

"For we have become partakers of Christ, if we hold fast the beginning of our assurance firm until the end, while it is said, "Today if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts, as when they provoked Me." For who provoked Him when they had heard? Indeed, did not all those who came out of Egypt led by Moses? And with whom was He angry for forty years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose bodies fell in the wilderness? And to whom did He swear that they would not enter His rest, but to those who were disobedient? So we see that they were not able to enter because of unbelief." (Hebrews 3:7-19)

St. Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury (d. 1109 AD), often recognized for his ontological argument for the existence of God, coined the phrase in Latin credo ut intelligam, or "I believe so that I may understand." It is an intriguing proposition, and one on which I must admit to vacillating with regard to accepting. Still, I bring it up here to segue into the epistle to the Hebrews and use its formula as the basis for another proposition that encapsulates the thrust of much in Hebrews 3. Namely, I believe so that I may obey. As I have mentioned in a previous blog, sometimes there exists an extreme tendency in parts of Christianity to view belief and obedience as conceptually and practically antithetical. These are, clearly, distinct concepts. But, we do err if we fail to recognize the degree (however large or small that may be) of semantic overlap shared between these two terms, especially as it pertains to biblical usage. The intimate relationship between belief and obedience for those who are in Christ, with unbelief and disobedience as sharp contrasts, is clearly evinced in chapters 3 and 4 of Hebrews. The following examples illustrate these relationships:

1) We are to "take care" that we do not have an "unbelieving heart" (Hebrews 3:12)

2) God swore to those who were "disobedient" that they would not enter His rest (3:18)

3) Yet, their inability to enter was predicated on "unbelief" (3:19)
4) Those who "believe" enter into God's rest (4:3)

5) Those in the wilderness did not enter because of "disobedience" (4:6, 11; compare this with point [3] above)

6) Numerous exhortations toward particular actions implicate "obedience" (3:12, 13; 4:11, 14, 16)

The descriptions and exhortations found in these passages are entirely unambiguous: the Christian ought to seek, by the grace that God provides, to be characterized by belief and obedience. For, if we, as members of Christ's body, claim one then this will necessarily entail the other. Although we are by no means perfect, in terms of our aim neither obedience without belief nor belief without obedience profit anything. The question we might ask is why obedience is so important for the believer. The answer is that it relates directly to our identity in Christ.

This notion of Christian identity is made explicit in the phrase "For we have become partakers of Christ" (3:12). As Christians, we are claiming to be united with Christ, having been made one with Him by Him, partaking of His Body by "eat[ing His] flesh" and "drink[ing His] blood" (John 6:54). But this unification necessarily involves a process of transformation wherein we must be changed to be made more like Christ, the process that is typically termed "sanctification" by Protestants, and "deification" by Roman Catholics and Orthodox Christians (see John 17:21). As Jesus Himself declared, those who "come" to Him "will never hunger," and those who "believe" in Him "will never thirst" (6:35, emphasis added). Moreover, if we, drawn by the Father, "believe" in Jesus Christ, we will have "eternal life," and if we "eat" of His "flesh" and "drink" of His "blood" we will be granted "eternal life," for "the bread that [Jesus] give[s] for the life of the world is [His] flesh" (6:44, 47, 51). Therefore, believing in Him unto eternal life (that He both won and gives), consuming His body so that we are transformed by partaking of Him, has the effect that we abide in Him, and He in us (6:56).

At this point, especially as it pertains to the Johannine passage, we have clearly established that belief inheres to our identity in Christ, but what about obedience? Importantly, Jesus returns to the profound notion of "abiding in Him" when He is alone with His disciples before He goes to be crucified, in the section of John that is often referred to as "the upper room discourse" (John 13-17). After proclaiming that those who "believe" in Jesus "will do greater works" than He, and stating multiple times that if we truly love Him we "will keep His commandments," Jesus invites His disciples to both "abide in" Him and have Him "abide in" them (14:12, 15, 21, 23-24; 15:4). The language Christ uses harkens back to John 6, but, significantly, His invitation is related to both unification and the production of "fruit," which is obedience - "keeping" and obeying His words and His commands (15:4, 5, 10). Our claim to abide in Christ is validated by belief that produces obedience.

The lurking danger behind all this is our sinful propensity to see our obedience as a means of attaining righteousness rather than admitting to imputed righteousness through Christ. We must always remember that our ability to obey and our producing the "fruit" of good works and obedience is never purely our own. This not only keeps our pride in check, but it is an encouragement that we can be strengthened by, knowing that God Himself is granting us His ability to "work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in [us] both to will and to work for His good pleasure" (Philippians 2:12-13). This is why Paul writes to the church at Ephesus:

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. (Ephesians 2:8-10)

Obedience and works do not save us, and even the faith we have is a "gift of God." This is why He alone is to be worshiped and glorified for the salvation that He wrought through Jesus Christ our Lord. But, we should never lose sight of the fact that "we are [God's] workmanship," and that He has "created [us] in Christ Jesus" with the object of obedience. And these works God Himself has "prepared beforehand"; all that is required of us is that we humbly "walk in them."

With these thoughts in mind, we return to the passage at hand in Hebrews 3:14-19. Prior to these verses, the author has explicitly urged the readership towards steadfastness and obedience in contrast to the example of unbelief and disobedience of the Israelites in the wilderness who were refused entry into God's rest, the Promised Land (3:6-11). Then, the writer cautions believers to guard against an "unbelieving heart" and "encourage one another" as co-members of the body of Christ. But why should we do such things? Why should we "encourage one another" so that we will not be "hardened by the deceitfulness of sin"? Essentially, because such hardening and disbelief is contrary to the reality that Jesus Christ has obtained for us now. Jesus became God in human flesh, He lived a perfect, sinless life, He suffered, bled and died, He rose again - all for the glory of the Father and to invite us to believe in Him so that we might abide in Him and, thus, obey Him in love: if we love Him, we will keep His commandments; if we keep His commandments, we will abide in His love (John 14:15; 15:10).

For this reason the author of Hebrews refers to a present reality: "we have become partakers of Christ" (Hebrews 3:14, emphasis added; see also 3:6). Still, this, too (as with verse 6), is paired with a conditional that pertains to obedience:

[W]e have become partakers of Christ, if we hold fast the beginning of our assurance firm until the end, while it is said, "Today if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts, as when they provoked Me." For who provoked Him when they had heard? Indeed, did not all those who came out of Egypt led by Moses? And with whom was He angry for forty years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose bodies fell in the wilderness? And to whom did He swear that they would not enter His rest, but to those who were disobedient? So we see that they were not able to enter because of unbelief. (3:14-19)

If we are humble and willing to obey in love, knowing that it is not truly our own doing, but Christ in us, we will realize that we have been empowered to obey as a result of our identity in Christ. However, we must choose to obey in love, and we must choose "Today," so that we are not deceived by the intangible tomorrow that belongs to a temporal framework we are not guaranteed. "Today," the Holy Spirit is speaking. "Today," we hear His voice. "Today," we must not harden our hearts as those who "provoked" God in the wilderness, never to enter His rest. "Today," we must not be "disobedient." "Today," we must not be characterized by "unbelief." "Today," God is working in us to do these things - His good will and His pleasure - so that we might walk in the good works He has wondrously and beautifully prepared for us. "Today," we believe so that we might obey, and obey in love.