Someone Else's Thoughts

"The Christian's God does not consist merely of a God Who is the author of mathematical truths and the order of the elements. That is the portion of the heathen and Epicureans. He does not consist merely of a God Who extends His providence over the life and property of men so as to grant a happy span of years to those who worship Him. That is the portion of the Jews. But the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God of the Christians is a God of love and consolation: He is a God Who fills the soul and heart of those whom He possesses: He is a God Who makes them inwardly aware of their wretchedness and His infinite mercy: Who unites Himself with them in the depths of their soul: Who fills it with humility, joy, confidence and love: Who makes them incapable of having any other end but Him."
- Blaise Pascal, Pensees, fragment 556

Thoughts - 1 Corinthians 3:14

"If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward."
1 Corinthians 3:14

I'm in a rebellious mood theologically, so be prepared for some interesting “Thoughts” in the near future. It's not that I want to cause trouble, but I'm increasingly seeing being built up in my mind an image of Christianity that is utterly different from what I've grown up with. And I think much of it started with the passage I want to tell you about today.

This is a passage that I've heard many times before, but never actually understood. Let me reproduce part of it, so we're on the same page:

“Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw- each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.” (1 Cor. 3:12-15)

The meaning of this passage, as I've heard it described, goes like this: the foundation is one's salvation through Christ. We build upon this by our actions – gold, silver, and precious stones symbolizing our deeds of righteousness, and wood, hay, and straw denoting our evil deeds. Thus, at the Judgment (“the Day”), that life will be tried, and it will be seen whether one has put his or her salvation to good use, or has squandered it. In either case, what is left (in other words, how much good one has done) will determine the quality of our eternal life: although all who have the foundation will be saved, those who put poor workmanship into it will (logically) receive less of a reward to carry into eternity than will those who worked hard at it.

There's a severe problem with this interpretation, though: we've misidentified what's being built. What we generally pull from this fits nicely with our American individualism, so we're happy with it Unfortunately, though, in so doing, I think we've completely missed the point. We need to look again, and see what the passage actually says.

The first piece of any building is the foundation, and it is this that defines what can be built. Build it too flimsily, and the edifice on top will come crashing down when the bottom fails apart underneath it. Build a giant foundation, and only a minor building on top of it, and you'll be ridiculed for poor planning. The lucky thing for us here is that Paul identifies the foundation of his building: Jesus Christ (v. 11). Interesting, though, that he mentions nothing more than that – it's Christ Himself, not salvation, or justification, or theology, or anything else. Him. And, by the by, that's a rather large foundation!

If the foundation determines the size of the building, then, this must be a large structure. And, like any large structure, it takes a lot of work, and a lot of workmen, to build it. Indeed, from verse 10, not just Paul is working on it. “Someone else” is building on what he started. But, beyond that, others are working on it, or else how would “each one take care how he builds upon it”? So, there is a whole group, of indeterminate size, apparently involved in this project.

Well, now, we're going to run into an issue pretty quick. For, you see, in verse 12, it is apparent that Paul is addressing his remarks on building with quality materials to this group. But these fine folks are building a single building, not a collection of buildings. And, if that's the case, each one can't logically be working on just himself. There has to be one overall edifice that they're collaborating on.

And, in fact, there is, according to verse 9: the Church. The Church, not as an institution, but as a community of people. In verse 16, Paul writes “Do you not know that you are God's temple...?” The 'you' there is plural – literally, “all y'all”. It's a community composed of individuals, yes, but addressed as a cohesive whole and not as a group of atomic units thrown together. And it is that group that is the subject of this work.

Now, one more point, and then the conclusion should resolve itself pretty easily. It could be argued that Paul is only addressing the evangelists of the time – himself, Apollos, & co. The amount of space Paul gives to this discussion, though, and the tone convince me that this was only because the Corinthians were too busy with their infighting to have provided a worthwhile example, so Paul had to bring one in. The goal was for the Corinthians, and, by extension, all Christians, to join in the work.

That's a long path to a simple, yet staggering, conclusion. In the end, yes, each person's individual work will be judged. However, that work includes much more than his own spiritual state – it's what he's put into the building up of the Church. And the Church is so composed that building it up involves, requires, building people up. In other words, Paul's words here, rather than calling us to only improve ourselves for God's Kingdom, call us to improve our brothers and sisters as well. It's a work He sees as worthy of reward. But it's a work that living out will require a significant change in how you look at things.

Ponder that. And then try to live it. If you're like me, it may blow your mind. That's a good thing.

And, fair warning: unless God deters me, you ain't seen nothin' yet...

Thoughts - Mark 1:40-45

"Moved with pity, He stretched out His hand and touched him and said to him, 'I will; be clean.'"
- Mark 1:41

I've been remiss in this lately, and that's not going to be fixed in any great way here. I read this passage last night, though, and thought it worth sharing.

Mark is the earliest of the four gospels, and it starts off in a much simpler way than the others. Luke begins with a formal introduction, as befits the research project his gospel was. Matthew, written to the Jews, starts off with Jesus' ancestry, in that culture His bona fides. John has my favorite introduction, a mystical and philosophical description of all that the incarnation meant, borne of a special nearness to Christ and long years of reflection afterward.

In contrast, Mark just starts. It's all very brief - what takes Luke 3 chapters, Mark gives 11 verses. The general impression is of a whirlwind of activity - about the only individual He has time to talk to one-on-one is a demon-possessed man, and that's mainly to tell the demon to shut up.

In verse 40, however, that changes, and what made, and makes, Jesus different came to the fore. In that verse, the activity stopped. A leper came to Jesus, "imploring Him, and kneeling," (v. 40), with a faith and insight greater than many of his contemporaries, and yet with a humble request for healing.

Jesus could have ignored the man. He could have just spoken a word. But, as He looked at this poor man, He saw a deeper hurt than just his body. Leprosy was both physically destructive and highly contagious, which meant that those who had it lived in a perpetual quarantine. The leper lived as an outcast, human in theory but barred from any participation. You can imagine the hurts and longings within the man, far deeper than the physical disease. Not imagining that there could be any cure for that while his disease persisted, he sought out the One who could at least heal his body.

Jesus, however wasn't satisfied to just go half-way. He wanted to show the man that he was loved as he was, in his "unloveable" state. So, what did He do? He gently, but deliberately, reached out His hand, and touched the man. At that touch, dried skin crinkled and flaked off, and the man cringed from the pressure on his diseased flesh. But in that moment, his physical brokenness was replaced with spiritual wholeness, the overwhelming love of God flowing into his soul and washing away the years of hurt and loneliness. Then, only then, was Jesus ready to address his body.

If Calvary shows the love of God in power, this scene, to me, shows it in stillness. The savior of the world, God Incarnate, for a brief moment gave the most outcast of humanity His attention and acceptance, for no other reason than that He loved the man. To the crowd, it probably made little impression, but to that man, it meant everything.

In this is the essence of the Incarnation. Christ didn't choose to redeem us in a sterile environment, He didn't try to play things safe. Instead, He became a man so He could be right here in our gutter with us, to show us His love on a level we could understand and respond to. He made sure we knew that He saw the filth and squalor of our sin, and loved us anyway. Then, and only then, was He ready to pronounce the words, "I will; be clean," and save us. O that we might know the power of His touch, not just as God, but as man!