A Thought on the Season

Service is its own reward, and giving, its own gift. Many people cause themselves a lot of misery because they give to get something in return, and are sorely disappointed.

Incidentally, part of the reason love is "a still more excellent way" (1 Cor. 12:31) is that it is required to realize this truth.

Important Life Lessons - #1

I've learned a lot over the past few months. Some of it's made it into big long posts here, and a lot of it hasn't. The stuff that hasn't probably isn't going to, either, right now. So, I'm gonna try shorter posts.

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I used to think that being patient meant twiddling one's thumbs until whatever it is that one is waiting for happens. I was mistaken. What I have discovered is that it really means putting the one thing on hold, and instead doing something else that's important. Sometimes the thing you think has to be first and foremost really doesn't, and something else that's less obvious does. It may not makes sense, and it may not seem nearly as important or opportune as whatever it is you want to do, but later on you discover that God really did have a plan and agenda, and it worked out even better than you could have imagined.

So, if you find yourself frustrated by the brick wall you keep running into, check and see if God isn't actually giving you opportunity to do something else you might never have been able to do otherwise, and, if He is, exercise patience by leaving he first thing in His hands and going and doing the second one. You'll discover, as I did, that His plans are as amazing as they are unexpected.

"No" - Joshua 5:14

“And he said, 'No; but I am the commander of the army of the Lord.'” - Joshua 5:14

OK, back to Jericho. But this time more briefly. I chose the title for this little thought mainly because it's a use of the word that doesn't fit with the stock “When God Says No” message. It's actually kind of cool.

The key verse comes on the eve of the Battle of Jericho. Israel had entered Canaan and gotten the preparations underway for conquest. In true God-following fashion, they'd focused their energies on God and His commandments, but even so Joshua was understandably nervous. After all, he was the untested leader of a people already known for being troublesome, now dwelling in the midst of enemy territory. So, when he spotted a man a ways off and in a rather threatening posture, he thought it best to exercise caution. Hence his question of greeting in 5:13: “Are you for us, or for our adversaries?”

There were probably a couple responses Joshua was ready for. One would have been “your adversaries,” in which case defense and/or retreat would have had to be effected. Another one would have been “you”, which would have been welcome news of reinforcement. Imagine his surprise, then, when the man said, as the NIV translates it, “Neither”, or, by the ESV, “No”.

The next sentence, where the person identified himself, made it clear who he was: the commander of the army of the Lord. It's apparent that this was to fully answer Joshua's question. And, in fact, it did, just not as Joshua had anticipated.

You see, Joshua made a critical mistake in his question. He asked “Are you for us...”, identifying the important distinguishing point as the person's relation to Israel. And this idea needed to be corrected. Because in his work and desire to lead well, Joshua had lost track of Who the real leader was. The Israelite enterprise was God's doing, not his or even Israel's. As such, it wasn't God's job to be for or against Israel – it was their job to be supporting Him.

In our lives, we face the same trap. It's a question of who's going to set our agenda. Are you making your plans and asking God to support you, or are you following His lead and then trusting Him to work it all out? And, when you see others, are you looking for allies in your own self-centered goals, asking “Are you for me?”, or are you searching out partners in ministry: “Are you for God?”

When the Commander came to Joshua, Joshua stopped, bowed before Him, and waited for His instructions. And, not surprisingly, the walls came tumbling down. Coincidence? I think not!

Joshua 6 & 7 - Making a Choice

I embarked a few months ago on a rather large, though admittedly uncreative, project, that of reading through the Bible from cover to cover. I've done a lot of Bible study, but haven't attempted going through the whole thing since I was a kid, and that endeavor wasn't particularly successful. It's pretty interesting, when you do that, what you notice. I thought I would share one of those things.

The story of the Battle of Jericho is pretty well-known. It's the first battle the Israelites fought in their conquest of Canaan proper. They marched around the walls for a week, the walls fell down, and the Israelites ran in and destroyed the place. It's a well-covered story, and a good one, but what caught my interest was a pair of events that happened immediately after it, the end of Joshua 6 and then Joshua 7.

The first event is easy to overlook. Before the battle, Joshua sent spies into Jericho to check things out. They stayed at the house of a prostitute named Rahab. The rulers of the city got wind of this, and they told Rahab to give them up. Instead of doing this, Rahab helped them escape, and they in turn promised to save her and her family. And so, after the battle, the former spies went to her house and brought out her and her family, and they joined the train of the Israelites. “And she has lived in Israel to this day, because she hid the messengers whom Joshua sent to spy out Jericho.” (6:25b)

The second is better-known. After Jericho, Israel went out to take down a rinky-dink little town called Ai. It was so little, they couldn't even afford a third letter in their name. And the Aiites walloped Israel. In searching for a cause for this, it turned out that a man named Achan, of the tribe of Judah, hadn't quite listened to God back at Jericho. Rather than destroy everything, like God commanded, Achan grabbed some nice-looking items for himself, and hid them in his tent. He was thus punished, by death for him, his family, and his livestock. “And all Israel stoned him with stones. And they raised over him a great heap of stones that remains to this day.” (7:25b-26a)

What do these two stories have in common? They demonstrate an important principle about the people of God. In Joshua, as begun in Exodus and as ultimately consummated at the Cross, God is forming and establishing His people. And He makes it explicit what it is that is to define them: “You shall be holy to me, for I the Lord am holy and have separated you from the peoples, that you should be mine.” (Lev. 21:14) In other words, they were to be a separate (the literal meaning of “holy”) people, belonging to, and living in line with, Him.

Rahab was a prostitute. According to footnotes, the Hebrew term can also be used as “innkeeper”, but that's an unlikely translation. Achan was an Israelite who seemed so good that he had to be outed by God Himself. Funny, then, that in His shaping of His people, God showed favor to the first by grafting her in (she's even in Jesus' ancestry) and had the nice pew-sitter stoned.

The difference was in the heart. Rahab understood that God was at work, and chose to obey and then trust Him, in defiance of the world. Her choice showed a heart in line with the purpose of Israel, and she was welcomed into the fold as one who truly belonged. Achan heard that God was at work, but saw what he wanted, and decided to grasp it while he could. God removed him from the body like you'd remove a cancerous tumor, because his heart made him precisely that.

Every person, “Christian” or not, is presented with a similar grand choice: What will he value most? Will he put God first, and abandon himself completely to God's cause and provision, or will he instead obey his own lusts for trifles and idols in the here and now? Either option is valid, but make no mistake: there is no middle ground, and both choices have prices and consequences. God knows your heart, and looks on that more than even your actions. Choose your leader wisely.


“For not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel, and not all are children of Abraham because they are his offspring, but 'Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.' This means that it is not the children of the flesh who are the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted as offspring.” - Romans 9:6b-8

Thoughts on Self-Identity

For the past couple of weeks, I've been working intermittently on a personal website. Since it's looking increasingly like I'll be going into the web field, it seemed like a good idea, and probably something I should've started earlier (in all my free time...). It seemed like a simple enough matter at the time, but it's instead lead me to transform my thoughts on who I am, where I'm going, and what it all means.

One might think that a website is a pretty simple matter, and, indeed, it can be. Some websites have a laser-like focus, an audience in mind and a specific message to leave that group with. Such sites are easy to craft, and, unfortunately, not what I had in mind. No, what I decided upon was a site to tie together and show who I am and what I do. Currently, I have bits and pieces spread far and wide – a blog here, photos elsewhere, stuff from RPI at yet another place, and professional samples hither and thither – and nothing to tie them all together, explain them, or expound upon them. Unifying them, and presenting them to everyone who might be interested in a rational manner, is quite a challenge.

My initial thought, which I have now abandoned, was to delineate it into sections based on how we usually subdivide our activities. I had a “Personal” section, a “Professional” one, “Ministry”, and “Academic”. All seemed well and good. I made a nice design, did up some great graphics, and was ready to put together content. And it was there that it all fell apart.

The problem that came up is that very few things fall neatly into one of those categories. Take, for example, this blog. It's a personal thing, in that I don't get paid for it and a lot of what drives it is the events of my life. At the same time, the thrust is primarily that of practical theology, giving it claim to “ministry” status. For certain types of web work, it would provide a sample of my skillz, so it could be professional. To pick any one of these categories for it is to risk it being missed by two categories of potentially interested people. To put it, and everything else with a conflict, in multiple categories is to create a very confusing website, with some, but far from all, information placed redundantly and semi-randomly throughout. This obviously will not do.

What this brings to the fore is a question of how one defines his identity. Somewhere I encountered in a story (I have no idea which) a scene where a character was asked the simple question “who are you?” The person asked responded with his name, his family, and his accomplishments, and each answer was rebuked as unsatisfactory, because it was too shallow a meaning of “identity”. In the end, if I recall properly, the character was left without an answer. Identity is both deeper and more complex than we acknowledge. To maintain simplicity in our busy lives, and, really, to make it all easy to organize and manage, we condition ourselves to be satisfied with simple answers. Unfortunately, they don't work.

For me, at least, the lesson and conclusion is that a life, or at least one such as I want to live, is a cohesive whole. There is a foundational set of things that make me who I am – faith, history, education, relationships, and, yes, even possessions – and everything I do is an outworking of that foundation. In other words, identity must drive activities, and activities reflect identity. Each activity will draw upon the facets of my identity in different ways and amounts, of course, but each must in some way contribute to all.

The concept, from a practical standpoint, isn't new to me. What is new is the explicit statement of it, and the conclusions that such a statement begets. First and foremost, it means that life can't be compartmentalized. To know me as a person is to know me as an academic, a professional, and a Christian. Though perhaps not explicitly laid out, those who know me in a professional setting should find my Christian service no surprise, for example, nor should my church associates be shocked to discover my career or my hobbies. Second, no one activity can be allowed to take over my life: becoming a workaholic starves other outlets, being consumed by family leads to neglect of other duties, and even the life of the Church can drown out other important calls of service.

Third, and most to the point right now, it means that I've had to change how I describe myself to the world. As opposed to what I do here and there, my story is now: Who I Am, What I Do, and Where I'm Going. There's a lot more work in defining those sections and answering the questions they imply. But, they're the questions that count. Yet another case where the journey is, perhaps, of far more value than even the destination. And that, to return to the original topic, means the website is getting redesigned.

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"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and he will make straight your paths." (Proverbs 3:5-6)

A post!

Goodness knows I've been trying to put something together for the blog for a while now. I guess I've never fully experienced mental exhaustion before, but I believe that's what I've been suffering from. So, this isn't going to be a big post. Sorry - I'll hopefully be able to manage that soon.

As is often the case, there's a bit of a story here. I engage in a lot of personal worship by just sitting at the piano and playing through the hymns. One particular hymn, "Arise, My Soul, Arise", has been of a very similar chord to my heart lately. Only problem is, in a way that's hard to explain, the words Charles Wesley wrote haven't been working for me, and my soul has been singing different ones in their place lately. So, in bits and pieces, I re-wrote it to align better. In the hope that it might speak to someone else, I thought I'd share. For the tune and original words, try here.

Arise, my soul, arise,
A new day is at hand;
The Lord is at thy side,
Thy footsteps He hath planned.
Each step He guides with heav'nly light,
Each step He guides with heav'nly light,
The fiends of darkness thus to fight.

Along this bright-lit way
We travel not with fear,
For as we work and pray
Our Father does us hear.
He sweetly whispers of His love,
He sweetly whispers of His love,
And shouts it from the heights above.

But yet there comes the night,
When darkness Christ wouldst veil;
Thy faith, which is thy might,
Seems ready soon to fail.
Have mercy, Lord, or I am lost,
Have mercy, Lord, or I am lost,
To doubts and sorrows o'er me tossed.

“My child, ye need not fear,
For I am at thy side,
Thy pathway to make clear,
My own strength to provide.
Lean on Me and I'll lead you on,
Lean on Me and I'll lead you on,
And soon enough the morn shall come.”

And so in joy or pain,
I yield me to His will;
Though many trials remain,
His grace abideth still.
Thus onwards to the courts above,
Thus onwards to the courts above,
Each day I'm trusting in His love.

Thoughts - Song of Solomon SG Philosophy

Yeah, so, my Spring Break writing didn't get nearly as far as I'd hoped, and I may not manage to get back to it until May. But, in the meantime, I've taken up leading a Small Group. I've been doing a lot of thinking/philosophizing about it, because I want to do it right. Below is what I've come up with.

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Last week, Nate Chapin and I began leading a Small Group on the Song of Solomon. Both of us being busy people, we had hoped to follow a pattern common in SG's that just directly study the text: basically, read the text, and then discuss it. There are a lot of benefits to this system: among others, it requires a minimum of preparation, allows insights to emerge that the leader might have missed, and frees the conversation to move in whatever direction members might feel a need to go. So, that's what we tried. But, unfortunately, it proved less than satisfying for the subject at hand.

Reflecting on this, it's quite apparent why this is the case. That method is great in the relatively clear and comfortable New Testament epistles. This is because, being instructional, the messages in the epistles are a lot clearer and less open to imaginative interpretation (basically, they're pre-sanctified). To be blunt, the Song of Solomon isn't. It's a poetic story, which requires a very different style of interpretation. And many of the things that it touches on really aren't comfortable or appropriate for group discussion, especially in a college setting.

According to Jamieson, Fausset, and Brown's (JFB) commentary, church fathers Origen and Jerome noted that the Jews didn't allow anyone to read the Song until he was 30 years old. The more I've considered it, the more I understand the feeling behind that prohibition; the Song is very hard to read and understand. At the same time, I'm increasingly convinced of the truth of 2 Timothy 3:16-17, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.” And, further, I believe that it can be encountered in a pure and uplifting way, if those who study it would approach it correctly; Titus 1:15: “To the pure, all things are pure.”

[Note: Karen has provided a link which claims that the age was not 30, but 13, the age at which a child became an adult. This would honestly make more sense, but I don't have the time or resources to sort it out right now. Either way, I think the point would still be valid, although perhaps not as forcefully as with 30.]

However, just because something can be studied beneficially, that doesn't necessarily mean that it needs to be; in other words, the follow-on question is “why study the Song?”. I think there are a couple important reasons, at least to me. The first, at least for me, is that it poses a significant challenge. It's relatively easy to study an epistle, or to work one's way through Proverbs. Now, don't get me wrong: those are extremely essential studies, and there's great depths to be plumbed within them, which can take years to fully understand. But, at the same time, they're low-risk: it's pretty difficult to go wrong in your studies, the human predilection to read our ideas into the text notwithstanding. SoS isn't like that, as is shown by how often it's looked at kind of askance. It demands a greater amount of maturity, purity, and commitment to really get it. So, since I could use all three, what better way to pursue them than by doing something that requires me to practice them?

The second reason is related, but different: there's a reason God put this book into His Word. If you think about it, there are very few subjects that get an entire book devoted to them. Besides SoS, there's the Law (Leviticus, Deuteronomy), suffering (Job), music (Psalms), wisdom (Proverbs), and life outlook (Ecclesiastes). Among such a group, there are two basic themes: worship of God (Law, music) and living life (suffering, wisdom, and life outlook). Into this group, then, the Lord places this book about love. And not only places it, but gives it a place near the top of the heap - the title is “Song of Songs”, literally meaning “the greatest of all songs”, which seems almost an affront to the Psalms and places it at least on par with Solomon's other writings (Proverbs and Ecclesiastes). How do we make sense of this, except by coming to the obvious conclusion that this Love thing must be pretty important?

There are a couple different interpretations of how the Song should be read, which affect how we understand the value in studying it. Some see it as just what it is at face value: a love story between two people. Others read it metaphorically: the love between God and His people, especially, nowadays, Christians individually and as a group. The latter is obviously safer, but I find it hard to exclude the first: basically, if God puts such value on the contents of the book, and wanted it read just metaphorically, I think He would have included at least some kind of disclaimer. At the same time, it's almost impossible, this side of Calvary especially, to miss the metaphor. And the two aren't mutually exclusive: often, in fact, the New Testament uses this very idea of bride and bridegroom to illustrate the relationship of the Church and Christ. To understand that divine love is to gain insight into proper human love, and, similarly, to understand human love is to gain insight into the love between us and Christ. And if, in fact, this relationship with Christ is to be the major theme of our lives (Galatians 2:20b: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”), then it's extremely clear why the Song is in the Word, and why it is very much an important subject of study.

With that said, though, it is also apparent that this study cannot be taken lightly. Again from JFB, the Jews had an apt metaphor for the relationship of Solomon's writings, that of the temple he built: Proverbs is the outer court, Ecclesiastes the Holy Place, and the Song the Holy of Holies. Now, at Christ's death, the curtain of the temple was ripped apart, and we were invited into such intimacy with the divine.(Matthew 27:51). At the same time, though, we must not take lightly the audacious proposition of peering into such an inner sanctum, but instead need to approach with fear, reverence, and forethought. If we will do so, the promised reward is the awe of encountering God in a new and staggering way. But we must be ready.

Unfortunately, none of us, including myself, have the time to dig in so deeply beforehand. I'm growing, but I haven't grown nearly enough to just ad-lib it, nor do I think I ever will. So, as an alternative, I'm going to be providing a set of directions for our study, to help us navigate the passages as safely as possible, while still providing us the freedom to truly appreciate what's going on and discuss what people believe needs to be discussed. It's going to take the form of a series of questions for discussion, and I'm placing them below:

Part 1: The Human Story

Reading the passage purely as the interaction between two people:

1. What is happening here?

2. What are the motivations behind their words and actions?

3. What, if anything, strikes you as particularly virtuous?

4. Where is God's involvement in the scene?

Part 2: The Christian Story

Reading the passage as a metaphor of Christ and His people:

1. What is happening here?

2. At what stage(s) of the Christian/Church life would this occur at?

3. What motivates both God and the Christian/Church here?

4. Where does this tie into the teachings of the New Testament about the Christian life?

5. How can we practically respond?

It's my hope and prayer that this will prove useful in facilitating a worthwhile and blessed study. Prayer from others would be much appreciated, too!

Thoughts - John 10:10b - "I"

See the introduction first - it'll help!
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“I”

OK, yes, I'm going to start by drilling down really little. It has to be done. If it makes you feel any better, though, I promise that I won't try to beat this by analyzing the period at the end of the verse. Unless the need comes about when I get to that point...

Anyway, there's a great importance in this little detail of identity. “I” is hard to mistake, since it always refers to the one speaking it. Beyond that, though, it is active – I do things, as opposed to things just happening to me. Starting the statement of mission with this one little word, Christ takes possession of it, making it absolutely clear that it's His.

“I” doesn't come automatically, however. Quite the opposite, actually: there are several prerequisites assumed by its use:

Rooted identity: before one can identify oneself as “I”, who I am must be clear. Christ knew who He was: “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14). For those of us who aren't God, and thus aren't self-existent, things aren't so easy. Thankfully, Christ took care of that, giving us, through Salvation, identity in Him (see, e.g., Romans 6:5), so that we can know who the “I” is.

Uniqueness: “I” is distinct from “we”. Although community is important (that's coming later), the mission must be accepted by each person as a singular, unique human being.

Actionability: if the “I” is to be active, than it must be able to actually act. Christ, being God and thus omnipotent, had this covered. For us, Acts 1:8: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.”

Authority: finally, even if one can make a statement of “I”, that doesn't mean that he may. I can declare that I will curtail inner-city crime, but, without the authority to muster resources to my aid, such an effort will be futile at best. Similarly, were we to embark on embracing Jesus' mission under our own authority, it would be laughable. Through His death, however, “He gave [us] the right to become children of God,” (John 1:12), lending us more than enough authority to take up that charge.

So, in summary, Jesus, being God, had all that was required to take active ownership of His mission. As humans, we wouldn't, except that through His we have access to all of it. Our acceptance of a role in His mission must be predicated on rooting our identity in Him, and through that relationship understanding the uniqueness, actionability, and authority that come through Him.

Thoughts - John 10:10b - Introduction

“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
John 10:10b

Misson. It's something I talk about a lot. And, with the load of management courses I'm taking right now, something I also hear a lot about. The concept of mission and vision is vitally important, because it directs and focuses one's efforts, making the difference between flailing about and accomplishing something. To me, at least, it's common and easy to think about mission in relation to businesses and churches. Lately, I've been toying with a mission for my life, too, although that's still a work in progress. In the midst of all this pondering, it came upon me that Jesus Himself had a stated mission for His foray on earth. It is, I believe, the verse quoted above.

If the Church is to be the body of Christ on earth, and Christians individually “little Christs” (the literal meaning of the term), it is of the utmost importance that we understand His mission. There are two important reasons for this: first, so that we can understand His point in the whole thing, and, second, so that we, as His followers, can continue it. So, what I want to do is break down and attempt to pick apart this brief statement, and hopefully in so doing provide a starting point for realizing these goals.

Because this has the makings of a long thought, I'm going to split it into several posts. Should make a bit simpler for you to read, and, actually, for me to write.

P.S. Sorry for the lack of posting lately – RPI has been claiming most of my writing. I'm going to try to get this whole series done over the current Spring Break, but we'll see how it goes.

Thoughts - Acts 28:17

“After three days he called together the local leaders of the Jews, and when they had gathered, he said to them, 'Brothers, though I had done nothing against our people or the customs of our fathers, yet I was delivered as a prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans.'” - Acts 28:17

I felt compelled to read this passage last night, even though I wasn't exactly sure why. What struck me there is, to me at least, fascinating, and so I thought I should share it.

It won't be news to most people that the life of the Christian is all about relationship. Obviously, the first and foremost relationship is that with God. Beyond that, the Scriptures also have a lot to say about our relationships with fellow Christians and with the world at large. There is, however, in relationship an element that, I find, is very easy to miss: identity. And in this passage, Paul subtly but effectively addresses what happens with one's identity when one joins with Christ.

First, the rather obvious, but important, background information. Paul was a Jew. Judaism had (and has) a peculiarly strong self-identity, having survived persecution, deportation, and dispersion by clinging to the knowledge of one God and to the law He had given. Beyond that, Paul was a Jew's Jew, a Pharisee who had studied under a man who is still well-noted even today, Gamaliel. In other words, Paul lived deeply into a group that took its identity very seriously. Thus it was that, when a new “sect” appeared to threaten to tear apart Judaism, Paul was zealous in trying to destroy it and save his people. His plans, however, were upset by Jesus in a very powerful way, and, in a noteworthy switch, it became his mission to reach the Gentile population with the Gospel.

After many circumlocutions and go-arounds, Paul got himself arrested in Jerusalem, and was forced to appeal to Caesar to pull his fate out of Judean politics. To appear before Caesar, one had to go to Rome, and we join the story three days after Paul got there, after a very hazardous journey. We don't know what he did those first three days, but on the fourth day, Paul called together the local Jewish leadership. It was kind of a “getting to know you” meeting, Paul's hope being to convince them to let him share the Gospel with the entirety of the Jewish population in the area. And he was successful – until he gave the actual message to the group and the inevitable split reaction and conflict broke out, that is.

The important thing to note here is Paul's way of addressing the Jews in the two messages recorded. In verse 17, they are “brothers”, fellow Jews and co-heirs of the promise to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the prophets. Later on, though, when a fair number of them had decided to adamantly reject his message, Paul refers to “your fathers” (v. 25) - “yours”, not “ours”. From this, I see three important lessons.

First, joining with Christ fundamentally changes a person's identity. The change of allegiance in the spiritual realm makes it impossible for one to comfortably fit in one's old way of life. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Second, this change doesn't mean that we cannot or should not reach out to our former compatriots. Paul, although he knew that his mission was really to the Gentiles, nonetheless insisted on reaching out to his people first. That's why, if you go through Acts, Paul routinely enters a city and heads straight to the synagogue. Generally, what would happen is that a significant group would reject him and start a ruckus, but he at least felt that he had to try. And, as it was, though there wasn't usually a mass acceptance of Christ, at least a few would generally be willing. I imagine this fact is what convinced Paul to keep trying in each new place.

Third, when it became evident that he had done all he could, Paul was willing to lay aside his identity with the group in favor of his identity with God. Because he recognized the fundamental conflict between being Christian and being Hebrew, when he saw hearts hardening in rebellion to God's plan he was quick to separate himself from them. It's not that he ceased to be Jewish; it's that he recognized that these fellow countrymen who refused Christ couldn't be part of his highest identity, and he had chosen to value his identity in Christ over any other.

In other words, Paul had a previous, overarching identity, and one that was, in general, a good one. Even so, he recognized that, having joined Christ, his citizenship was in heaven. (Philippians 3:20) So, while the new citizenship did not mean that he couldn't relate to his former people, it did make it impossible for him to ever again be fully accepted into that group, or to fully accept them. Until, and this is most important, he could show them and bring them into the new relationship as well. And that proved a very effective motivation for his life and ministry!

Thoughts - "Social Justice"

This was written before I really got together my format for the Thoughts. I happened to think of it this evening, so I thought I'd put it up. Enjoy!
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But What Is Social Justice?

Over recent months, I've heard the words "social justice" a lot. What's rather more amazing is just how much I've heard those particular words repeated. Actually, what's interesting in that is that the words seem to be used to the exclusion of any synonymous words or phrases, to the point that I fear the phrase has become merely a buzzword. That's unfortunate, yet understandable, because, while we talk about social justice, about how important it is, etc., what we've failed to do is say what it actually is.

Now to some it may seem rather pedantic to go over a phrase with such an obvious meaning. And, on one level, that's true. However, the more I hear it used, the less convinced I am that we have truly figured out what it means. I think we have some ideas, but nothing cohesive or comprehensive enough to be at all useful.

Connected with that problem is the problem of what do we do with what we know. To put it simply, if we don't know what social justice truly is, how on earth can we put it in practice? Sure, we have some examples, but are they the only, or even the best, ways?

Let me submit to you a candidate for a working definition. I'll take it straight from the horse's (er, Savior's) mouth: "Thou shalt ... love thy neighbor as thyself." (Matt. 5:39) Now, that may appear a little too obvious. However, I would say three things regarding that: 1) simple is good for a childlike faith, 2) for fun, I asked a random Christian to provide a synonym for social justice, and it took them a couple minutes to reach this point, so it's apparently not as obvious as it looks, and 3) it provides some important insights into the topic that should be pulled out. Let me flesh out #3 a bit more.

First, this definition says something about the scope of "social justice." Jesus did a good job of explaining who our neighbor is - see the parable of the Good Samaritan. I'll simply add that even the Samaritan didn't have unlimited resources or reach, but he did well by being ready when God did put someone in his path. We certainly can't help everyone ourselves, but we also can't help but find someone who needs the kind of love Christ commands us to give. Since none of us is a hermit, finding a “neighbor” in need shouldn't be too hard.

Second, it says something about the level of social justice. Just as most of us have no lack of love for ourselves, so we are to spread our love to as many others as possible.

So, are you feeling better now? This isn't so bad. But there are a couple of other things that need to be pulled out:

The third thing this passage addresses is how we approach social justice. Even a cursory understanding of the human condition in the Christian worldview reveals nothing deserving of love in any of us, but instead much that seems completely unlovable. But, although it flies in the face of the demands of justice, we continue to love ourselves, in a kind of self-mercy. Because of this, I find Social Justice to be a rather odd term – if we love ourselves via mercy, not justice, then what place can true justice have in our love for others? The kind of love we are called to give goes beyond, even contrary to, reason and justice – it's an extravagant love, not unlike what Christ showed to us in His crucifixion. It's a love that won't be fulfilled by putting money in an offering plate, a love that won't be satisfied with an afternoon in a soup kitchen, a concern for others that refuses to say “that's enough.” It's also, I might add, as much for myself as others, a love that not only is willing, but desires to turn the other cheek to a slight or injustice against oneself.

Fourth, and finally, it places social mercy in its proper context. As Christ Himself said, loving one's neighbor is only the second-greatest commandment (Matt. 5:39a). Social ministry never supersedes the greatest commandment, to give God His proper worship, in the fullest meaning of the term. Quite bluntly, the social gospel is no gospel of Christ's. You can feed billions, clothe millions, even save thousands from the horrors of human trafficking, and be a total failure in the greater picture. Honestly, what good will a warm fuzzy feeling for you, or a full stomach for them, do when both of you are burning in eternal torment? (see Matt. 18:9) Social mercy is pointless outside of the framework of godliness, and such a framework cannot be attained by putting God in the backseat. God demands that He be placed first and foremost in our lives, not just for His glory, but also for our benefit. Because, interestingly enough, God, in all His God-liness, loved us so much that He died to save us, the greatest act of social mercy ever to occur. If the goal of Christianity is godliness, then, as we mature in Christ, how much greater will our motivation to minister to our neighbors be, and how much more will we be able to love them in a way that can not only provide for them now, but give them greater treasures above?

When all is said and done, it is #4 that truly defines how social “justice” (really mercy) works. It's not contrived, it's not conjured up, it's not random. It's not something to just up and do either. True social ministry can only happen when we are in an intimate relationship with God. When that is the case, we'll see who we are, who we can help, and be driven to help them in a way that serves God's will. When you're working within God's will, it doesn't matter whether you're feeding the hungry, donating to a project somewhere else, or simply listening to the person down the hall – all are true social mercy, and will bear fruit for the Kingdom of God. When you leave God out of it, or use Him as a figurehead for your own ideas, the best of intentions will be misdirected, misapplied, and end up being a hindrance to God's plan.