And that was one of the nicer comments.

I have been critical of Focus on the Family in the past, and hearing that they were buying a Superbowl Spot made me cringe a little bit on the inside, just because of the ham-handed way they’ve handled political issues in the US in the past.  In this case, though, I have to tip my hat to them.  In the words of the Washington Post’s pro-choice sports columnist Sally Jenkins, to write last week:

Tebow’s 30-second ad hasn’t even run yet, but it already has provoked “The National Organization for Women Who Only Think Like Us” to reveal something important about themselves: They aren’t actually “pro-choice” so much as they are pro-abortion.

Indeed.  FotF’s strategy of not releasing the video in advance now appears somewhat brilliant in its ripping the veneer off of much of the pro-abortion left, as their rage built with CBS over its’ willingness to air the ad.  [Which is rather revealing that a group called the National Organization for Women went nuclear over CBS airing the Tebow ad, but had no similar outrage over the aired GoDaddy commercials, which - I would think - were far more offensive to women (and men).]

So, the game is over now [I really didn't want to see either team lose, though I was hoping for overtime instead of interception to end it], and the ad has aired.  So, what was all the fuss over?  Here you go…

Be prepared to be offended:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Really offensive, right?  Brilliantly played, Focus. Brilliantly played, I say.

In watching this whole thing played out, it reminded me of how many times we (myself included) deride things, sight-unseen, simply because of the source or the anticipated message, only to be left with egg on our faces (and lots of “splainin’ to do” afterwards”.

“One of you will say to me: “Then why does God still blame us? For who resists his will?” But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ “Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?” (Romans 9:19-21)

If you would, please allow me some pastoral license that I might rip this passage of Romans out of its intended context for a moment or two in order to illustrate a point. I realize it probably has very little to do with what I am about to write and share with you, but I think at this point in time I can rightfully  be accused and found guilty of worse.

The short and long of it is that I have no excuse. “Who are you, O Man, to talk back to God?”

I went to my doctor yesterday. I usually go to my doctor not because I have any particular ailment but because I want to talk, blow off some steam; make sure I’m not crazy. He listens. He offers me some pills if I ask for them. He gives me advice, like he did yesterday, that resembles anything but modern medicine: Go out for a twenty minute walk each night, take note of the position of the moon, and keep a journal of your moods in relation to the moon. OK. I’m not having menstrual irregularity, but I’ll try.

Or, he’ll say, without a hint of irony, “Well, the Chinese say…” and then, “maybe we could do some acupuncture.” If my insurance company knew this is what me and my doctor were talking about I suspect the bill would be entirely my responsibility. I think he knows me well enough to know that when I come in to see him I am not there to talk about my kidney stones or hemorrhoids or my nightmares. Strangely enough, I think he knows I am there to talk shop which, in our case, is theology; or Zen; blades of grass; grace.

So he asks how I have been and it spills out of me like the Niagara River over the edge. I tell him that since August of 2008 my life has been a train wreck. I sit there on the paper covered bench-thingy, hunched over, and my sadness pours out of me as if he were Jesus or my pastor. I sit there in the cold, barren dung-heap of an office, scratching myself with a pen cap confessing to him my pain. “124/76,” says the nurse. “Is that good?” I ask. “Yes, excellent,” she replies. “Well, that’s because I don’t carry stress in my chest, but in my abdomen.”

Kidney stones. Diarrhea. Constipation. Hemorrhoids. Cramps. Gas. I’m a walking advertisement for Pepto Bismol and Milk of Magnesia. Aleve is really nice. I can’t tell the twenty-four year old shapely brunette nurse any of this. No, I am a fine specimen of man. I stand tall and crack some jokes. She barely laughs, but is courteous nonetheless; she humors my wit. Later she will come in and clean a couple of spots on my skin that will be operated on by the doctor. So much for my bearded, manly presence: There I lay in a ripped gown, half naked, raising my boxer shorts and covering myself while this nurse preps me for surgery.

I know you don’t want to hear it, but there it is.

“Well, since August of 2008 here’s the story. My brother in law, who was thirty, died from a brain tumor…”—‘he didn’t die from it, but with it; so say the Chinese’ he interrupts—“and that set off a string of events that I haven’t been able to figure out yet.”

“My wife and I were buying our first house; after 17 years of marriage we finally could. Then Bobby died. Then the shit hit the fan at the church. In July 2009 I was fired. That quick. They called me on my last day of church camp and told me to be at meeting the next day (they had been having meetings behind my back for some time). I knew it was coming.” By now it is pouring out of me even faster. “But there was nothing I could do. They had lost confidence and blamed me for twenty some years of no growth. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. We had just bought a house. My brother in law—what’s up with all the brain tumors going around anyhow?”—‘It depends upon who you talk to,’—“I’m sick of it!”

Silence.

But I was talking to him and he was listening. I was spilling my guts to a practitioner of Chinese medicine, who is more in tune with the Ohio State Buckeyes than with Jesus, and who was furiously typing away our conversation on his laptop even as I am now reporting my version of it on my laptop. I visit my doctor maybe once every two years. I noticed that the lobby was empty when I arrived; he knows.

He knows I won’t listen to his advice about cholesterol and that I won’t take pills. He knows that I don’t really care too much about having my prostate examined even though I am nearly 40 and should. He knows that even if I take pills it will be for a week and then I’ll throw them away.

“Maybe it was about pride,” I say. ‘It’s always about pride,’ he responds. Dammit. I was hoping it wasn’t. “Seriously, I’m working at Blockbuster Video. I spent four long years learning how to do something I am not now doing. Death. Major life changes. Career changes. Age. Am I going nuts? I studied hard to be a preacher and now I’m not. I’m working at Blockbuster, not contributing anything to the world. And let’s not even talk about how this has upset my sons. My eldest questions church, is uncertain of God. Behavior issues. All three have struggled in school since we lost our church of nearly ten years. And my wife? Am I losing it?”

‘No.’

He then goes into this long, thoughtful monologue about the Chinese and how there are no accidents and how God is in the blade of grass and acupuncture and the moon and menstrual cycles and half a dozen other things. I nod thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.” I always say that because I don’t want the doctor to think that the things I believe faith is supposed to do are not being done—you know, like giving me courage, making me holy, giving me peace—“I am not happy; I have no peace; I’m all out of balance; can’t find an even keel…”—I don’t want him to think that Jesus is a failure just because I am.

I don’t want him to think that faith doesn’t, uh, work, even though I’m not so certain faith has such a utilitarian value; leastways not as much as some television preachers would have us believe.

“I mean, I don’t know if it’s in my heart or my head,” I say while tapping one, then the other.

“I have no reason to be unhappy. I found a job when other guys didn’t. I have a house where others do not. My wife and sons are healthy. My bills are paid. I’m finally working on my graduate degree….and yet, I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything to the world right now. All day long schlepping videos…listening to the DM ask about how much of this we sold and how much money we took in for the day. How many patients did you see today? How many insurance claims did you file? How many Michael Jackson DVD’s did you pre-sell? How many rewards did you sell? You see? I’m contributing nothing to the world right now. No longer a pastor.  I hate living in a world that is all about money because that is not why I live. Just enough is all I need or want.”

–You mean that you would sacrifice a family and the gospel for a building? ‘We have to save that building.’ Are you serious? The building is more important than a family? ‘We cannot lose the building.’—‘Sign the paper and resign immediately and you’ll get six weeks’ severance.’–

Then he said the only thing I think I really heard him say all day. Before this statement, I might have argued with some of you that God does indeed speak through the least likely sources and in places unexpected, but I might not have actually believed it. Theories are often different than practice. But he said it, and I heard it.

‘You’re judging God.’

And with those three or four words I was, again, completely undone.

‘The Chinese do not believe there are any accidents, so you are in the place where God wants you for the time being. And you are working on this degree and someday you can contribute to world again. Maybe for now he just wants you get out and see the other side of the world and experience life from that point of view to prepare you again to serve.’ You hear that pastor Kelly? I should have been listening to Pastor Kelly all along then the trip to the doctor would have been unnecessary. The Chinese are far more Calvinistic in their Buddhism than I am in my Evangelicalism. No accidents? Really? God has all this worked out already?

Pshaw!

I have been judging God as if I happen to have keener insights into the way he runs his world and my life than I do. It’s a lot easier to hear those words, or even preach them, than it is to practice them.

I suspect my preaching will be tempered in the future with a tad more humility, my affections bathed more in tears than in Scripture, and my judgments baptized more in a broken heart than a prideful façade. If I ever preach again, and at this point I’m holding out no hope of that happening, I won’t do so from a place of defense or offense, but from a place of love. Good theology is wonderful; a broken heart weeping with and for people, a helping hand lifting broken people, and a graceful tongue comforting the afflicted are all far better than a staunch, robust theology. (Which is not to say that we only need one or the other, but that one had better inform the other in many, many ways.)

It is hard to get up on Sunday mornings to worship when it’s your only day off after a long week of work. (I now literally work seven days a week; I know the struggle.)

I have been judging God? I have cried and moaned and complained and cursed and blasphemed and shouted and bitched and griped and stamped my feet and shook my fist and uttered things in my heart that would cause Old Scratch himself to shudder. I’m not proud of it; on the contrary I am quite ashamed. I have withheld forgiveness from people and played God. I have blamed God for my suffering—and it has been real.

‘You’re judging God.’

Those words—I couldn’t argue with my doctor after that and our interview didn’t last much longer.

It seems to me that the essence of faith is trusting that God has things under control even when it seems like he doesn’t. Faith is believing that God is faithful even when we are not. The essence of faith is not so much in knowing something about ourselves, but in knowing something about God. Faith is being willing to accept that things make sense to God even when they do not make sense to us.

I have not suffered as much or in the same way as any of you have (not that it is a competition), but I have been living with the mistaken notion for a while now that God has been judging me for something or other; maybe he has, but that’s beside the point for now. What I realized, from the mouth of a semi-pagan practitioner of medicine, is that I have actually been judging God. I have been telling God what to do, where to take me, what to give me, and why he should. I have been giving God instructions about the way my life should be. I have been reading off my list of reasons for why I am a far better preacher than I am salesman of DVD’s and video games (and yet I’m actually better at selling DVD’s than I am pastoring a church). That’s not the way of faith though.

And God has been far more patient with me than I have with him. Thank you, Father.

What matters is not my faithfulness, as strange as that may sound, but God’s. I judged him to be lacking, absent, estranged; He has stayed quiet so that He might prove otherwise. When I looked, I realized that it was I who have moved; not Him.

“That he ‘sticks with us’ is the reason Christians can look back over a long life crisscrossed with cruelties, unannounced tragedies, unexpected setbacks, sufferings, disappointments, depressions—look back across all that and see it as a road of blessing, and make a song out of what we see. ‘They’ve kicked me around ever since I was young, but they never could keep me down.’ God sticks to his relationship. He establishes a personal relationship with us and stays with it. The central reality for Christians is the personal, unalterable, persevering commitment God makes to us. Perseverance is not the result of our determination, it is the result of God’s faithfulness. We survive in the way of faith not because we have extraordinary stamina but because God is righteous, because God sticks with us. Christian discipleship is paying more and more attention to God’s righteousness and less and less attention to our own; finding the meaning of our lives not by probing our moods and motives and morals but by believing in God’s will and purposes; making a map of our the faithfulness of God, not charting the rise and fall of our enthusiasms. It is out of such a reality that we acquire perseverance.” (Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, 132-133)

“Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but I will proceed no further.” (Job 40:4-5, ESV)

Father, I am sorry.

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We’re one, but we’re not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One

But we don’t carry each other; I don’t think we do. Bono merely echoes the words of the apostle:

¹I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, ²with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, ³eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. ⁴There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— ⁵one Lord, one faith, one baptism, ⁶one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. ⁷But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift. (Ephesians 4:1-7 ESV)

I preface my comments by noting that we are one.

A friend of mine gave me a copy of the newest episode of Tabletalk which is the mouthpiece devotional guide published monthly by Ligonier Ministries and R.C. Sproul. The first half of this latest issue is devoted to slinging mud at N.T. Wright. The editor, Burk Parsons, assures readers, in a quote from John Piper’s pastoral assistant David Mathis, that “Wright is not under the curse of Galatians 1″ but that “his portrayal of the Gospel–and of justification in particular–is so disfigured that it becomes difficult to recognize as biblically faithful.” He further states, continuing the quote from Mathis, that “what he has written will lead to a kind of preaching that will not announce clearly what makes the lordship of Christ good news for guilty sinners, or show those who are overwhelmed with sin how they may stand righteous in the presence of God.”

Huh? Frankly, I’m not certain either of these gentlemen have taken the time to actually read a single dot on an ‘i’ of Wright to make, and agree, with this assessment. I think they are angry because Wright has the credentials and, pardon me, sack to take on Piper and their continued misguided and mis-characterization of his work.

Still, can you imagine having the nerve to say that about someone like Wright who is a bishop, pastor, scholar, and brother in Christ?

“In quoting N.T. Wright directly and providing concise responses from some of the world’s most trusted churchmen, it is our sincere prayer that this issue will serve to equip the church the know and defend that precious doctrine upon which each individual stands or falls before the face of God, by faith alone and for His glory alone.” (from Parsons’ editorial, 2)

Yet N.T. Wright concludes his book Justification with these words:

“The Risen Son is the fixed point in whose orbit we now move, the one who holds his people by his power and sustains them by his love, the one to whom, with Father and Spirit, be all love all glory in this age and in the age to come.” (252)

We are one in the Spirit, we are One in the Lord. Indeed.

Sproul wrote the first expose of the heretical work of that crazy English Anglican. In his short expose ‘Tilting at Scarecrows‘ Sproul makes every effort to show that the only way Wright’s argument works is if, in fact, Wright has set up a strawman. I’m not buying what Sproul is selling though. You should read the entire article, but here’s the relevant passage at the very end that concerns me the most:

Closely related to this is the hotly disputed issue of the grounds of our justification before God. Here is where the biblical concept of imputation is so important. Those who deny imputation as the grounds of our justification declare it to be a legal fiction, a miscarriage of justice, or even a manifestation of cosmic child abuse. Yet at the same time, it is the biblical explanation for the ground of our redemption. No biblical text more clearly teaches this concept of transfer or imputation than that of Isaiah 53, which the New Testament church singled out as a crucial prophetic explanation of the drama of redemption. The New Testament declares Christ to be our righteousness, and it is precisely our confidence in the righteousness of Christ as the grounds for our justification that is the focus of the doctrine of justification by faith. We understand that believing the doctrine of sola fide will save no one. Faith in a doctrine is not enough to save. However, though we cannot be saved by believing in the doctrine of justification, the denial of that same doctrine can indeed be fatal because to deny the doctrine of justification by faith alone as the apostle Paul indicated in Galatians is to reject the gospel and substitute something else for it, which would result in what Paul declares to be anathema. The gospel is too important to be dismissed by tilting at scarecrows.

Now I have a couple of questions and/or observations that will hopefully stimulate the conversation. Here I should note that I am interested mostly in deciphering Sproul’s rambling because I really do not understand it or, rather, I do understand it and wish to be corrected if I have missed something.

First, having read a great deal of Wright’s work, I don’t recall he has anywhere said that imputation is ‘legal fiction,’ a ‘miscarriage of justice,’ or ‘cosmic child abuse.’ Granted, some have. But N.T. Wright, unless I missed it, is not one of them. Who is constructing scarecrows?

Second, he writes, ‘no biblical text more clearly teaches this concept of transfer or imputation than that of Isaiah 53…’ I re-read Isaiah 53 and I don’t see this concept anywhere in that text. I’m asking for help here. The text of Isaiah 53 does clearly teach that the Suffering Servant will indeed carry our sins, our sorrows, and our iniquities; he will be crushed because of us. He will be cut off because of us. But I do not see anywhere in the text of Isaiah 53 where it says that his righteousness will be transferred to us the way our sins were transferred to him; whatever that means.

The closest I can come is “…by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities” (Isaiah 53:11). Someone more familiar with Hebrew can perhaps give us the details, but on the surface it appears Sproul has constructed a second scarecrow. Have I missed it? Is that what Isaiah 53 teaches? But my point is that if Christ has carried our burdens (sins, etc.) is there any reason for us to carry his righteousness in the sense that it has been imputed to us? If God declares us not-guilty then what else is necessary?

Third, Sproul writes, “The New Testament declares Christ to be our righteousness, and it is precisely our confidence in the righteousness of Christ as the grounds for our justification that is the focus of the doctrine of justification by faith.” The irony here is that this is exactly what Wright teaches! “Even a short reflection, therefore, suggests that the best argument for the ‘righteousness’ in Romans 1:17 being God’s own, and referring to his (albeit strange and unexpected) faithfulness to the covenant, is the argument of Romans itself” (Wright, 180).

And he makes similar arguments all throughout the book: the Righteousness is not ours, it is God’s. I don’t see the disagreement. Scarecrow three, unless I have misread.

Fourth, where in the Bible does it say we are saved by faith alone? “We understand that believing the doctrine of sole fide will save no one…However, though we cannot be saved by believing in the doctrine of justification, the denial of that same doctrine can indeed be fatal because to deny the doctrine of justification by faith alone as the apostle Paul indicated in Galatians is to reject the gospel and substitute something else for it, which would result in what Paul declares to be anathema” (Sproul, 5). Note how carefully Sproul changes the argument from simply ‘doctrine of justification’ to a ‘denial of the doctrine of justification by faith alone.’ That’s sneaky, but not unexpected; the Bible doesn’t even teach sole fide.

So a couple of final thoughts. First, where does the Bible say we are saved ‘sole fide‘? Seriously. I read in the Bible that if we confess we will be saved (Romans 10), that if we are baptized we will be saved (1 Peter 3:20), that we are saved by grace (Ephesians 2:8), through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Spirit (Titus 3:5)…and so on and so forth. But seriously, where do the words sole fide appear in the Holy Scripture? (Do a quick search of the word ’saved’ and see how many different things are attached to it. Try to have faith and not be renewed; try to have faith and not call on the Lord. Etc.)

So much for rejecting the curse of Galatians in the editorial! Here Sproul says what they really believe about Wright.

Second, where does Wright say he rejects the doctrine of justification? Not one place. This is yet another scarecrow because there is not one place where Wright rejects justification. And in not one place does the Bible say we are anathema if we reject ‘justification by faith alone’ because in not one place does the Bible say we are justified by faith alone. Romans 3:24 says we are justified by grace. Romans 5:9 says we are justified by his blood. And then there’s James 2:24. Seriously.What Wright rejects, partially, not entirely, is a particular interpretation of justification that excludes God’s faithfulness to the Abrahamic covenant, particular imputed righteousness, and the notion that those in the Reformed camp have a monopoly on what Gospel means and how it is lived out each day in light of the Resurrection of Christ Jesus.

There are several places where the Scripture says we are justified by faith apart from the law, but that is not the same as saying we are justified sole fide since it is clear that many other elements are involved in this justification.

I think there is more to say about this, but I want to say that it is extremely frustrating to read someone like Sproul, who claims to be so wonderfully in tune with the Spirit of Christ, make such disparaging statements about a brother in Christ and erect so many scarecrows in the process. I will let Bishop Wright close this essay himself:

There are many things which are pastorally helpful in the short or medium term which are not in fact grounded on the deepest possible reading of Scripture. That is simply a testimony to the grace of God: we don’t have to get everything right before anything can work! But if the church is to be built up and nurtured in Scripture it must be semper reformanda, submitting all its traditions to the Word of God. And when we bring the doctrine of ‘imputed righteousness’ to Paul, we find that he achieves what that doctrine wants to achieve, but by a radically different route. In fact, he achieves more. To know that one has died and been raised is far, far more pastorally significant than to know that one has, vicariously, fulfilled the Torah. (233, my emphasis)

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In late December, I received volume 5, which covers the minor prophets, Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs. It should be no surprise that I have loved it almost as much as volume one. In fact, my wife heard me talk about it enough that she purchased volumes two, three and four for me (to finish out the OT set) for Christmas, and the New Testament set for my birthday!

Following in the same format as Vol. 1, ZIBBCOT vol. 5 first covers the chronological placement of each of the OT books it covers, in some cases narrowing it down to 2 or 3 possibilities (where the biblical books do not give explicit time-periods). Then, based upon the most likely time placement, it uses the architecture, literature and artwork of the period to construct the culture of Israel and the surrounding countries, as relevant to the biblical text.

Additionally, there are beautiful photographs of the geography around the setting of relevant books/passages, maps, diagrams and lots of artifacts which illustrate the subtext of man passages.

As I noted in my review of Vol. 1, the authors of this series of commentaries are very respectful of the biblical text, as they compare and contrast contemporary beliefs and practices with those of the Hebrews in Israel. This is not done in any way to attempt to undermine the biblical text, but to help enhance it with a fuller cultural understanding.

For example, in Jonah 3, where the text indicates that God changed his mind, the authors note that the verb used here is the same one used in other OT books where it is said that God does not change His mind. Where this is different in Jonah is that the earlier passages were in the context of covenant agreements (where God will not change His mind), whereas the one in Jonah deals with the outcome of a prophecy (in which God can change His mind in how to meet the ends of a prophetic pronouncement).

Personally, I found the chapter on Job, the oldest book of the Bible, in terms of authorship, to be the most interesting one, with interesting notes on the differences between ‘the accuser’ in Job and the proper-named ‘Satan’ later in Scripture, and in-depth discussion on the origins of ‘the behemoth’ and ‘the leviathan’.

If I have any complaint about Volume 5, it is only that it seems a little more disjointed than Volume 1, which is only to be expected, since it covers so many short books of the Bible. All in all, though, it is an excellent resource that i will continue to go back to in my personal library.

Click here to view the embedded video.

When [missionary] Hudson Taylor shows up in China, and dresses in Chinese dress, and learns Chinese language, and eats Chinese food, and gets a Chinese haircut, everybody says, “There’s a good Christian.” When we do that in punk rock culture, people think it’s capitulation. I think there’s hypocrisy there. That’s why we’re not reaching Americans. We have a double-standard that we get stuck on the style and we forget the substance of the Gospel.

A missionary family (we’ll call the couple George and Mary — names changed for safety/anonymity sake) was recently at my church.  The people group to whom they minister are very disinterested in reading.  So much so that it is not uncommon for houses in that part of the world to lack indoor plumbing but have satellite television.  Another example — to be considered a best-seller, a book has to sell only a few thousand copies.

While their ultimate goal is translating the Bible — this people group does not have the Scriptures in their language — George and Mary realize that in the short-term, they need to set a primary focus on spreading the Word through other media (though, even this is not simple, due to laws in their region).  As George was describing the unique challenges that they face, he noted that their desire was to be — parents, cover your children’s ears — relevant.

A horrified gasp went up from the congregation when he used such a dirty word.  Actually, I’m kidding.  His choice of that word summed up what they were trying to do, given the culture of the people with whom they are dealing.  His point was that their message to those people is not “get your act together, get interested in reading, and then we’ll deem you worthy of telling you about Jesus”.

I doubt that anyone would fail to laud George and Mary’s efforts.  So why, exactly, does any mention of relevance in our culture get poo-poo-ed on so quickly and thoroughly by so many?

Are people in our culture less unsaved?  I keep seeing an image of Westerners showing up at the pearly gates, and St Peter does his best Maxwell Smart* impression, saying, “Missed it by that much.”

* (the Don Adams version — I’m old)

I am a big fan of music–and even more so since I have grown up and actually started paying attention to the lyrics and trying to understand what the artist is saying. I’d like to invite you to help me understand a song written and performed by Peter Gabriel called ‘The Blood of Eden.’

I have some ideas about what the lyrics mean, but I’d like to invite you to give me your take so that I can see where mine are in the mix. It’s a rather beautiful song and Gabriel is a wonderful lyricist. Sometimes, however, his lyrics take an extra going over or three or a hundred before they all fall into place. So here’s the lyrics, have at it and let me know what you think. Thanks.

“Blood Of Eden”

I caught sight of my reflection
I caught it in the window
I saw the darkness in my heart
I saw the signs of my undoing
They had been there from the start
And the darkness still has work to do
The knotted chord’s untying
They’re heated and they’re holy
Oh they’re sitting there on high
So secure with everything they’re buying

[Chorus:]
In the blood of Eden
Lie the woman and the man
With the man in the woman
And the woman in the man
In the blood of Eden
Lie the woman and the man
We wanted the union
Oh the union of the woman
The woman and the man

My grip is surely slipping
I think I’ve lost my hold
Yes, I think I’ve lost my hold
I cannot get insurance anymore
They don’t take credit, only gold
Is that a dagger or a crucifix I see
You hold so tightly in your hand
And all the while the distance grows between you and me
I do not understand

[Chorus]

At my request, you take me in
In that tenderness, I am floating away
No certainty, nothing to rely on
Holding still for a moment
What a moment this is
Oh for a moment of forgetting, a moment of bliss
Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

I can hear the distant thunder
Of a million unheard souls
Of a million unheard souls
Watch each one reach for creature comfort
For the filling of their holes

In the blood of Eden
Lie the woman and the man
With the man in the woman
And the woman in the man
In the blood of Eden
We wanted the union
Of the woman and the man

In the blood of Eden
Lie the woman and the man
I feel the man in the woman
And the woman in the man

In the blood of Eden
Lie the woman and the man
I feel the man in the woman
And the woman in the man

In the blood of Eden
We’ve done everything we can
In the blood of Eden
Saw the end as we began
With the man in the woman
And the woman in the man
It was all for the union
Oh, the union of the woman, the woman and the man.

It’s been a fun read. The book showed me many things I didn’t previously know and yet those things reinforced for me some things that I had been thinking all along.

This post has nothing to do with Politics or the book. I just wanted to give you the background.

It occurred to me throughout the book that many people cast their vote not based on ideology. That is to say, many of the people throughout the book talked about why they cast their fate with a particular candidate. Time and time again it came back to one word. Not the plan (with some of the candidate’s the plans were very very similar). I mean obviously the Republicans were going to vote with the Republicans and Democrats with Democrats, but ultimately it came down to something intangible.

That something is called hope.

It struck me as I read this sweeping book about the sport of politics that hope is the one thing that the church has in spades. I mean think about it! We have hope that God is and will make all things new. He’s reconciled all things to Himself.

God gives us the promise of Hope. In fact one of the most misquoted verses in the whole Bible is because often the person doing the quoting leaves off the most important phrase. You know the verse.  It says

But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you

Now, I’ve heard this verse used to defend people who are literal 6 dayers and why they fight for it. I’ve heard heretic hunters use it. Of course they never actually get to the next part of the verse. It says

to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, ¹⁶keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander. ¹⁷It is better, if it is God’s will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil. ¹⁸For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God.

Give an account for the hope you have in you. What is that hope? Christ died for you for me to bring us to God. I wonder if the reason we’re so rarely asked about our hope is because we don’t actually act like people with hope.

The fact that passage goes on to talk about how our gentleness and respect (actions) are our actual defense and not our finely tuned theological statements is just a bonus. Not our megaphones, or our witty blog lines. Not our book deals, or our denominations. Not how many years we’ve been in “professional ministry.” Not our cred’s.  Our action.

Did you ever wonder why he had to put the whole gentleness and respect in right after talking about hope. I think it’s because hope is offensive and scary to many people. In fact just today I talked to a guy who said, “Let me tell you something, hope is an f-ing scary thing. It may be the worst thing ever. A man can go crazy with hope.”  I’m going to withhold the rest of the conversation because the words would cause too many you to focus on them instead of the post. (Maybe me too?)

May you be someone who is filled with hope. May you be someone who people ask about the hope found in you. When pastor’s betray you, and friends abandon you. When Christians give more kindness to drug addicts than to you and you’re worse nightmare comes true may you be able to see and hold onto the hope found in you.

When you are at the end and are convinced you can’t go another step, may you be filled with the Hope that only God can give. May God grant you the clarity to see the Hope He offers.

May you always remember that God died for you.