What is the characteristic of God’s work in human history? God has intervened to come alongside us, sinners who do not deserve His companionship, and works in us to make more of ourselves in His service than we could attain on our own. How should our organizations work in light of God’s work? Here are some principles I’ve thought of:
1) Organizations are only temporary, only God and people are eternal.
The besetting sin of organizations is to think that they are more important than the people in them, to think people only have value when they advance the organization’s goals.
But to say the organization only exists to benefit its members is also not good. Individuals need to give themselves to something larger than themselves, God is pleased when this happens.
2) Organizations please God when they call, encourage and facilitate people to invest their individual effort, time and identity in a larger purpose of God’s, outside their own individual lives. This echoes in a small way Jesus laying down His life and giving His life to live in us. We glorify God when we voluntarily lay down what is merely ours as individuals for a larger purpose.
3) When organizations force people to do certain things, that diminishes the glory of them voluntarily giving of themselves to the task. In the real world, force or compulsion must sometimes be used, it is not an unforgivable sin. But it should be used sparingly. To compel people to do a good thing may have a short term benefit, but to persuade them to voluntarily do the good thing is a greater benefit.
4) People who voluntarily take on a larger purpose will usually perform better than people who follow orders to take on a larger purpose. They will spontaneously and creatively adapt ways to fulfill that purpose in their circumstances.
5) When an individual expresses his fallibility and weakness before God, he is likely telling the truth, and this is a sign of strength. The same is true of an organization. An organization can admit weakness in itself, and the leaders can admit weakness in themselves, while still being faithful to the vision. To gloss over failures and difficulties in the name of upholding the vision is actually to subtly betray the vision.
Truths in tension
There is a paradox in the Christian faith not often talked about. Two fundamental truths are in tension. The first truth is that God loves us, and identifies with us where we are. The second truth is that God is not content with how we live now, but wants us to do better.
If we focus just on God's love, we accept personal mediocrity or even dysfunction in our lives. Or if we focus just on God's standard of behavior, we set up an impossible standard of perfection that no one can measure up to, and present God as distant and forbidding.
We need to keep both in mind. God accepts us where we are, but then seeks to help us to improve. We shouldn't think we have to change before God can be pleased with us. We also shouldn't think we don't need to change, because we do.
I think Micah 6:8 reflects this paradox:
"To act justly" focuses on God's standard of behavior. "To love mercy" focuses on His acceptance of us where we are. Both are needed to walk humbly and fruitfully with our God.
If we focus just on God's love, we accept personal mediocrity or even dysfunction in our lives. Or if we focus just on God's standard of behavior, we set up an impossible standard of perfection that no one can measure up to, and present God as distant and forbidding.
We need to keep both in mind. God accepts us where we are, but then seeks to help us to improve. We shouldn't think we have to change before God can be pleased with us. We also shouldn't think we don't need to change, because we do.
I think Micah 6:8 reflects this paradox:
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.
"To act justly" focuses on God's standard of behavior. "To love mercy" focuses on His acceptance of us where we are. Both are needed to walk humbly and fruitfully with our God.
Paul confronting Peter
My wife is working on a guide for new translators to the book of Galatians. She and her colleague have been grappling with the account of Paul confronting Peter. The usual interpretation of "You are a Jew, yet you live like a Gentile and not like a Jew" is that Paul says to Peter "You accept freedom from the Jewish law for yourself, why not give the Gentile believers the same freedom".
My wife and her colleague are thinking there is another interpretation. Maybe Paul is using 'Jew' in this phrase to mean 'a true person of God'. In Romans 2:28-29 he says a true Jew is not just an outward Jew, with a physical descent from Abraham and a physical circumcision; but one who is Jewish inwardly, circumcised in heart by the Spirit. So what would a 'true Gentile' be? Someone uncircumcised in heart, whether they were outwardly non-Jewish or even outwardly Jewish.
Maybe his accusation of Peter is saying "When you withdraw from eating with your Gentile brothers, you are reinstating the separation that Jesus died to end. You are uncircumcizing your heart and acting like a Gentile in heart, even though you are a physical Jew."
This sounds complicated. But I do think it makes a bit more sense of the next couple of verses. "If I rebuild what I destroyed, I prove that I am a lawbreaker. For through the law I died to the law so that I might live for God." (Gal 2: 18-19). I've always been puzzled by "if I rebuild what I destroyed", and thought it must mean when Paul repents of sins and attempts to restore relationships with people he'd sinned against, that is rebuilding what he had destroyed. That would mean "through the law I died to the law" is a new thought. But maybe the two are one thought. Maybe Paul means "If I rebuild as a requirement the Jewish law, which I once had died to through my faith in Jesus' death and resurrection, I have become a transgressor". Maybe Paul is imagining himself in the position Peter took briefly, to display what a bad mistake it would be to bring back the law as a requirement.
One thing that does seem clear to me. When Peter separated himself from the Gentile believers, he had forgotten the exhortation from the voice in his vision, "Do not call anything impure that God has made clean." (Acts 10:15).
My wife and her colleague are thinking there is another interpretation. Maybe Paul is using 'Jew' in this phrase to mean 'a true person of God'. In Romans 2:28-29 he says a true Jew is not just an outward Jew, with a physical descent from Abraham and a physical circumcision; but one who is Jewish inwardly, circumcised in heart by the Spirit. So what would a 'true Gentile' be? Someone uncircumcised in heart, whether they were outwardly non-Jewish or even outwardly Jewish.
Maybe his accusation of Peter is saying "When you withdraw from eating with your Gentile brothers, you are reinstating the separation that Jesus died to end. You are uncircumcizing your heart and acting like a Gentile in heart, even though you are a physical Jew."
This sounds complicated. But I do think it makes a bit more sense of the next couple of verses. "If I rebuild what I destroyed, I prove that I am a lawbreaker. For through the law I died to the law so that I might live for God." (Gal 2: 18-19). I've always been puzzled by "if I rebuild what I destroyed", and thought it must mean when Paul repents of sins and attempts to restore relationships with people he'd sinned against, that is rebuilding what he had destroyed. That would mean "through the law I died to the law" is a new thought. But maybe the two are one thought. Maybe Paul means "If I rebuild as a requirement the Jewish law, which I once had died to through my faith in Jesus' death and resurrection, I have become a transgressor". Maybe Paul is imagining himself in the position Peter took briefly, to display what a bad mistake it would be to bring back the law as a requirement.
One thing that does seem clear to me. When Peter separated himself from the Gentile believers, he had forgotten the exhortation from the voice in his vision, "Do not call anything impure that God has made clean." (Acts 10:15).
My favorite building in Charlotte
My favorite building in Charlotte isn't in the skyline photos. It's the Rosewood condominium complex at Providence and Sharon Amity. I like it because it reminds me of classic French chateaux, rather than trying to express the conceit of making the world anew. But the big reason I like it is I know the architect. Curtis and Liz started coming to our Sunday school class some months ago. When they hosted a gathering at their house, I was fascinated by Curtis’ drafting desk in the living room. He had some photos of Rosewood, and told us where to find it.
Some months later, I was driving up Providence and stopped to take a quick look around and take a few pictures (hoping I didn’t look like a burglary suspect casing the joint). It amazes me thinking of this lovely eight story building coming out of the imagination and planning of my buddy Curtis.
I’m reminded of Jesus’ words in John 14:2. “I am going there to prepare a place for you”. The time will come when we’ll see some very special architecture, in a house that will be ours, and we’ll all know the architect. His genius in design we can already appreciate (galaxies, planets, landscapes, many other things). We’ll have many new reasons to appreciate it that day, I’m sure.
The Rosewood Condominium site
Some months later, I was driving up Providence and stopped to take a quick look around and take a few pictures (hoping I didn’t look like a burglary suspect casing the joint). It amazes me thinking of this lovely eight story building coming out of the imagination and planning of my buddy Curtis.
I’m reminded of Jesus’ words in John 14:2. “I am going there to prepare a place for you”. The time will come when we’ll see some very special architecture, in a house that will be ours, and we’ll all know the architect. His genius in design we can already appreciate (galaxies, planets, landscapes, many other things). We’ll have many new reasons to appreciate it that day, I’m sure.
The Rosewood Condominium site
The promise of the New Covenant
This is how the "faith and circumstances" theme started. In 2005 I was pondering Jeremiah's promise of the New Covenant. "This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel
after that time," declares the LORD.
"I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.
No longer will a man teach his neighbor,
or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD,'
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest,"
declares the LORD.
"For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more." Jeremiah 31:33,34
I found this promise hard to believe. If this New Covenant promise really worked, I thought, our churches would be a lot different. Our churches have many people teaching us to know the Lord, teaching us what the Gospel really means if we truly understood it. The promise seems to say that shouldn't be needed.
Then a picture came to my mind. Moses called the people to go forward into the Promised Land, and everyone except Joshua and Caleb didn't dare go. (Numbers 13 and 14). God had promised to give them the land, but the people didn't believe the promises because the land had enemies living in it. I don't find in Numbers anyone saying "If God had really given us this land, the enemies wouldn't be there anymore", but I bet people thought that. I know I would have. But God didn't drive the enemies out ahead of time because He wanted to show the people they could believe in the promise before it was fulfilled.
So I realized Jeremiah's promise of the Law written on my heart was a promise I could claim and believe in, even when I still saw my heart full of enemies of God's law. I could believe in the promise even while the enemies still lived in the Promised Land. So I began to do that, and my spiritual life began to change.
I still have many enemies of God's law living in my heart. But there are fewer enemies than there used to be. And the promise is nonetheless true.
after that time," declares the LORD.
"I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.
No longer will a man teach his neighbor,
or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD,'
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest,"
declares the LORD.
"For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more." Jeremiah 31:33,34
I found this promise hard to believe. If this New Covenant promise really worked, I thought, our churches would be a lot different. Our churches have many people teaching us to know the Lord, teaching us what the Gospel really means if we truly understood it. The promise seems to say that shouldn't be needed.
Then a picture came to my mind. Moses called the people to go forward into the Promised Land, and everyone except Joshua and Caleb didn't dare go. (Numbers 13 and 14). God had promised to give them the land, but the people didn't believe the promises because the land had enemies living in it. I don't find in Numbers anyone saying "If God had really given us this land, the enemies wouldn't be there anymore", but I bet people thought that. I know I would have. But God didn't drive the enemies out ahead of time because He wanted to show the people they could believe in the promise before it was fulfilled.
So I realized Jeremiah's promise of the Law written on my heart was a promise I could claim and believe in, even when I still saw my heart full of enemies of God's law. I could believe in the promise even while the enemies still lived in the Promised Land. So I began to do that, and my spiritual life began to change.
I still have many enemies of God's law living in my heart. But there are fewer enemies than there used to be. And the promise is nonetheless true.
Literal vs figurative
Some (both from within and without) characterize evangelical Christianity as taking the Bible literally. I think this is oversimplification. A view I've heard is that one should take literally what was intended to be literal, and take figuratively what was intended to be figurative. So when the Psalms talk about sheltering under God's wings, that is a figurative, poetic image, not to be taken literally.
But I wonder if that formula, while very good, isn't itself somewhat over simplified.
A prophetic passage I have pondered from time to time is Isaiah 7:14. "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel."
There are two statements here. First, the virgin will have a child. Second, that she will name him Immanuel. The first statement is fulfilled quite literally. Mary concieved a son while she was still a virgin. The second statement wasn't fulfilled literally. She and Joseph named their son Jesus, not Immanuel, because the angel told them to do so. We do use the name Immanuel to refer to Jesus, but that usage isn't found anywhere in the New Testament.
What in the text tells us that the first statement is literal and the second not so literal? I'm not aware of anything. I suspect we only know how to interpret those two statements because we know how they were fulfilled.
But I wonder if that formula, while very good, isn't itself somewhat over simplified.
A prophetic passage I have pondered from time to time is Isaiah 7:14. "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel."
There are two statements here. First, the virgin will have a child. Second, that she will name him Immanuel. The first statement is fulfilled quite literally. Mary concieved a son while she was still a virgin. The second statement wasn't fulfilled literally. She and Joseph named their son Jesus, not Immanuel, because the angel told them to do so. We do use the name Immanuel to refer to Jesus, but that usage isn't found anywhere in the New Testament.
What in the text tells us that the first statement is literal and the second not so literal? I'm not aware of anything. I suspect we only know how to interpret those two statements because we know how they were fulfilled.
The fang and the thorn
A dog up the street frightens me. Thankfully, most of the time she is inside. But I have often wondered, walking past that house. She has barked and bared her fangs when I walked past, then she would slink along behind me after I passed showing her fangs when we looked back at her.
One evening my wife and I walked past the house, relieved that the dogs were not in sight. Another neighbor coming toward us, gave words to our sense of relief. “How nice to walk dog-free.”
Tales of animal attacks are big on cable TV. Shark attacks, crocodile attacks, bear attacks, and others. The victim shows his or her scars and retells the story of near death at the fangs of a creature “seeking what it might devour.”
Scripture does have a bear attack story (2 Kings 2:24) and Matthew 7:6 ends with the image of savage dogs or pigs tearing people to pieces.
But Scripture seems more concerned with the thorn than the fang. The curse on Adam was that the ground would bring forth thorns and thistles instead of food. God warns the Israelites that the other nations in the land will be thorns in their sides (Numbers 33:55, Joshua 23:13, Judges 2:3). Laziness leads to thorns in your vineyard (Proverbs 24:31). Isaiah uses thorns as a symbol of a land under judgment abandoned by its people (Isa 5:6, 34:13). Jesus says the cares of this world are thorns crowding out the seedlings of the Word. Paul describes his great trial or affliction as a thorn in the flesh (amplifying the image used by God for the enemy nations).
Yet isn’t the fang more frightening? I’ve never worried about any of our neighbor’s plants, nor have I ever wondered if the neighbors might be afraid of our rosebushes. So why does Scripture worry about thorns so much? It can be argued that thorns are more dangerous. The curse in Genesis 3 is that our agriculture will not always succeed. We will work to grow food, but food won’t always come. History shows us that thousands, at times millions die in famines, when the vegetable kingdom has not produced for us.
Paul’s image of the thorn in his flesh is dramatic because of its implied avoidability. A literal thorn in your flesh ought to be easy to deal with. Just take it out. Yet the spiritual thorn in the flesh Paul cannot take out. He prays to God three times to take it out, but God chooses not to. Is that not part of the unseen drama?
“God, I know you see how much this hurts. And it is not at all hard for you to pluck it out. Why aren’t you helping me?”
“My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness. Paul, I could change the circumstances that give you so much pain. But I can also give you peace in the midst of your pain. Which is the greater display of my power?
That dog has been an encouragement to pray. I've thought of David's words: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” Now I shouldn't exaggerate; that dog is not the shadow of death. (She isn’t a pit bull). But I could call her house the shadow of punctured skin. And if God is able to sustain in the fear of death, how much more can He sustain in the fear of a flesh wound? So I began to commit my epidermal integrity to God as I walk past.
A couple months ago I thought about Jesus’ words to pray for our enemies. Can I pray for that dog? I don’t believe dogs have souls, but I’m sure they have emotions. What lies behind their aggressive behavior must be a mixture of fear and anger. So I’ve prayed for those emotions to be stilled. While my prayer is driven by the desire not to be bitten, I don’t think this is a purely selfish prayer. If the dog feels less fear and anger, my prayer would increase her happiness as well as my own.
I’ve also included in my prayers the dogs’ owners. I’ve never met them, but I pray now as I pass that house, that they would be abundantly blessed. May their table be so laden with the riches of God’s mercy and love, that even the dog is transformed by the crumbs of blessing that fall from her master’s table.
In the last few weeks I've noticed a difference. I've seen the dog outside a few times, and she hasn't threatened me, she hasn't even barked at me.
One evening my wife and I walked past the house, relieved that the dogs were not in sight. Another neighbor coming toward us, gave words to our sense of relief. “How nice to walk dog-free.”
Tales of animal attacks are big on cable TV. Shark attacks, crocodile attacks, bear attacks, and others. The victim shows his or her scars and retells the story of near death at the fangs of a creature “seeking what it might devour.”
Scripture does have a bear attack story (2 Kings 2:24) and Matthew 7:6 ends with the image of savage dogs or pigs tearing people to pieces.
But Scripture seems more concerned with the thorn than the fang. The curse on Adam was that the ground would bring forth thorns and thistles instead of food. God warns the Israelites that the other nations in the land will be thorns in their sides (Numbers 33:55, Joshua 23:13, Judges 2:3). Laziness leads to thorns in your vineyard (Proverbs 24:31). Isaiah uses thorns as a symbol of a land under judgment abandoned by its people (Isa 5:6, 34:13). Jesus says the cares of this world are thorns crowding out the seedlings of the Word. Paul describes his great trial or affliction as a thorn in the flesh (amplifying the image used by God for the enemy nations).
Yet isn’t the fang more frightening? I’ve never worried about any of our neighbor’s plants, nor have I ever wondered if the neighbors might be afraid of our rosebushes. So why does Scripture worry about thorns so much? It can be argued that thorns are more dangerous. The curse in Genesis 3 is that our agriculture will not always succeed. We will work to grow food, but food won’t always come. History shows us that thousands, at times millions die in famines, when the vegetable kingdom has not produced for us.
Paul’s image of the thorn in his flesh is dramatic because of its implied avoidability. A literal thorn in your flesh ought to be easy to deal with. Just take it out. Yet the spiritual thorn in the flesh Paul cannot take out. He prays to God three times to take it out, but God chooses not to. Is that not part of the unseen drama?
“God, I know you see how much this hurts. And it is not at all hard for you to pluck it out. Why aren’t you helping me?”
“My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness. Paul, I could change the circumstances that give you so much pain. But I can also give you peace in the midst of your pain. Which is the greater display of my power?
That dog has been an encouragement to pray. I've thought of David's words: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” Now I shouldn't exaggerate; that dog is not the shadow of death. (She isn’t a pit bull). But I could call her house the shadow of punctured skin. And if God is able to sustain in the fear of death, how much more can He sustain in the fear of a flesh wound? So I began to commit my epidermal integrity to God as I walk past.
A couple months ago I thought about Jesus’ words to pray for our enemies. Can I pray for that dog? I don’t believe dogs have souls, but I’m sure they have emotions. What lies behind their aggressive behavior must be a mixture of fear and anger. So I’ve prayed for those emotions to be stilled. While my prayer is driven by the desire not to be bitten, I don’t think this is a purely selfish prayer. If the dog feels less fear and anger, my prayer would increase her happiness as well as my own.
I’ve also included in my prayers the dogs’ owners. I’ve never met them, but I pray now as I pass that house, that they would be abundantly blessed. May their table be so laden with the riches of God’s mercy and love, that even the dog is transformed by the crumbs of blessing that fall from her master’s table.
In the last few weeks I've noticed a difference. I've seen the dog outside a few times, and she hasn't threatened me, she hasn't even barked at me.
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