Tag Archive for 'Holy Spirit'

Resurrection Life

On Sunday I preached on the final day of the college mission to Larkhall, Bath.  The text of the sermon can be found here.

Rather than preach directly from a passage, I preached on the meaning of Jesus' bodily resurrection, both for life in the future, and life here and now.

Since working at A Rocha two years ago, I have become more and more aware of how important it is that a) Jesus was incarnated, b) he spent three years preaching and healing the sick, c) he was raised bodily from the dead.

All these things amount to a wholehearted affirmation of God's good creation.  Many evangelicals seem to be drifting to an almost gnostic position, hugely prioritising the 'spiritual' over the 'physical'.

We must remember that when God's kingdom comes, we will not be living in a vacuum, floating on clouds in the sky, but on this earth, transformed.  Heaven comes down to earth, not the other way round.

A further thing I have often wondered is if we should translate 'spiritual' in the New Testament as 'Spiritual', i.e., of the Holy Spirit.  I'm sure someone has thought this before!

Gift(s) of the Spirit

This topic has been mulling over in my mind for a long time.  Since the 'rediscovery' of charismatic gifts and the phenomenal growth of the Pentecostal church, I suppose it has been a hot topic for the church generally.

I am currently reading Knowing God by J.I. Packer, a chapter a night - a fantastic book, which I will review when I'm done - and last night I read chapter 12, 'The Love of God'.  Packer makes some excellent points which happen to coincide with my own feelings on this subject, so I will quote him, and then comment.

In Romans 5.5 Paul says, 'God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.'  Packer says:

Paul is not talking of faint and fitful impressions, but of deep and overwhelming ones.

...

Paul assumes that all his readers, like himself, will be living in the enjoyment of a strong and abiding sense of God's love for them.

Third, notice that the instilling of this knowledge is described as part of the regular ministry of the Spirit to those who receive him - to all , that is, who are born again, who are true believers.  One could wish that this aspect of his ministry was prized more highly than it is at the present time.  With a perversity as pathetic as it is impoverishing, we have become preoccupied today with the extraordinary, sporadic, non-universal ministries of the Spirit to the neglect of the ordinary, general ones.  Thus, we show a great deal more interest in the gifts of healing and tongues - gifts of which, as Paul pointed out, not all Christians are meant to partake anyway (1 Cor. 12:28-30) - than in the Spirit's ordinary work of giving peace, joy, hope, and love, through the shedding abroad in our hearts of knowledge of the love of God.  Yet the latter is much more important than the former.

...

It will be tragic if the concern for revival that is stirring at the present time in many places gets diverted into the cul-de-sac of a new Corinthianism.  The best thing that Paul could desire for the Ephesians in connection with the Spirit was that he might continue towards them the Romans 5:5 ministry with ever-increasing power, leading them deeper and deeper into knowledge of the love of God in Christ.

...

Revival means the work of God restoring to a moribund church, in a manner out of the ordinary, those standards of Christian life and experience which the New Testament sets forth as being entirely ordinary; and a right-minded concern for revival will express itself, not in a hankering after tongues (ultimately it is of no importance whether we speak in tongues or not), but rather a longing that the Spirit may shed God's love abroad in our hearts with greater power.  For it is with this (to which deep exercise of soul about sin is often preliminary) that personal revival begins, and by this that revival in the church, once begun, is sustained.

J.I. Packer, Knowing God, 133-134

I wholeheartedly agree with Packer.  The Spirit's work is so much more than we might sometimes be led to believe - he gives so many gifts to each and every Christian, not least the fact that they are believers!  Of course the 'sporadic gifts' are important - I have no doubt that God heals people today - but focussing too much on them leads us to forget the more important, universal gifts.

I want to sit down one day and read a proper and full exposition of the work of the Spirit - I believe Calvin in particular does this well.

Everything we do as a Christian is a gift of the Spirit!  We live entirely by grace, which God gives us in the power of the Spirit.  In talking so much about 'the gifts', in constantly asking the question 'what is my gift?', 'what is my ministry', we forget that all we have is a gift, and that we are given all we have in order that we might serve God and each other, and steward creation aright.  If we get this sorted in our Christian lives, then we will have the right perspective on the 'sporadic gifts' as well - they are not for ourselves, but to enable our service of others, to build up the church.

Given all this, I would argue that it is not just 'conservative' Christians who 'quench the Spirit' (1 Thessalonians 5.19) by refusing to allow space for his work publicly - 'charismatic' Christians do the same by focussing too much on the particular gifts the Spirit gives, and too little on the primary, universal gifts that he gives.  Both are important in the life of the church - but the universal gifts are much more so; the balance needs to be restored.

I think that the greatest miracle is not a dramatic healing but someone who dies in Christ.

Barth on Human Wickedness

This was originally published as a comment on this blog on 13 May 2006. The author asked: 'And what is the difference between the wickedness exhibited in the actions that led to that young man's death, and the wickedness of ordinary folk muddling their way through life?'

Karl Barth's answer to your question,

'If wickenedness belongs to human nature, how would it possible for the incarnation to take place?'

is basically that we are not truly human - Jesus is. We are corrupted, so that what we do does not flow directly from what we are. We are liars, appearing to be something we are not. Obviously there is a lot more to it than that, but this isn't the time (or space..!), and I'm not the person.

This is one of his reasons for starting his anthropology with Christology - looking at Jesus (rather than ourselves) for his definition of 'human'. We can know ourselves more truly through Jesus, whose nature is revealed in the Bible and through the Holy Spirit, than through looking at ourselves. Our actions are symptoms of our corruption, they do not show us what it is to be human.

That does side-step rather neatly the problem of Jesus being 'just like us', when we are fallen and corrupted.

Thus 'evil' within us is not a characteristic, but something deeper than that, twisting and corrupting our very being. It cannot be trained out of us, and it is common to us all.

Hueston's final question is the tricky one! In human terms of course, we would say there is a huge difference between beating someone to death and lying to your boss. The 'sound' answer is to say that sin is sin is sin - any black mark on something white spoils it. There are effectively two states of being - holy (God) and sinful (us).

While that last statement is undoubtedly true, it's difficult to accept the previous one. A couple of little black marks are hardly noticeable - a great splodge of ink is surely much worse. Surely lying to your boss is nowhere near as bad as murder.

On one level, that is correct. Our society recognises that in the criminal justice system. There are set fines and jail sentences for difference crimes, increasing with the severity and circumstances of the crime, and so on.

But on another level, it isn't. We come back to Barth's idea that we are basically liars. We do not behave as we should, we do not act like true humans, because we are corrupted. Any lie is a lie, no matter how big or small. Any act which is not in line with our humanity is a lie, it de-humanises us (quite literally for Barth - when we sin we give up our humanity and become something else).

The bar is high, and we'll fail to jump it every time we try, because of our corrupted nature. We can't win! But that's where Jesus comes in - as the only true human that has ever lived, he sealed that achievement on the cross when he died. Through his achievement, on his return all those who belong to him will be transformed to be like him: fully and truly human, incapable of sin and free from the power of death.

God has promised to forgive all who turn back to him in repentance - whoever they are, whatever they've done. God's forgiveness is open to those people who beat that poor boy to death, hard as that may be for us to accept, in the same way as it is there for the rest of us.

Biblical Ethics?

This was originally published as a comment on this blog on 27 April 2006. The author asked: 'How, though, can the Bible be used to help towards ethical understanding?'

As a rhetorical device, let’s take your comment to the extreme, and start by thinking about what would happen if we could not use the Bible at all as an ethical textbook.

In practice, this would me that when we read an ethical exhortation in the Bible, such as ‘women should cover their heads in church’, that does not mean that women today should do so. If we decide that women should cover their heads, we would therefore do so not because the Bible says they should, but because we’ve reached that conclusion ourselves, using whatever method (derived from the Bible or not).

I used to think much the same, that the Bible was good for seeing how the apostles (say) ‘did’ ethics, the way they addressed the questions that faced them, but not for telling us how to behave. We can read the text, work out their method, and use that same method to generate ethical guidelines that are relevant for us today.

However, I’m not sure that that is entirely correct. I was never really happy with it as a really robust way of ‘doing’ ethics anyway. So here goes.

Being in part a Barthian I think that we should aim in our lives to behave as much like Jesus (the perfect human) as possible. We have to be careful here, because we’re never going to achieve that, but I think it’s a good starting point. Intellectually and theologically it makes sense. As Barth argues, if we want to know what it is to be human, we should look at Jesus, not at ourselves. Perhaps ethics then becomes a set of guidelines to help us think and act as true humans, to help us be as much like Jesus as possible.

In terms of personal piety, it also makes sense. Christianity is not about knowing about God through some musty old codices, it’s about knowing God himself. I think Jesus makes that clear in lots of what he says, in John and the other gospels. The popularity of the ‘WWJD’ bracelets (in America particularly) shows how helpful this concept can be. We do know Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, and so being constantly reminded to do as he would do forces us (at best) to go through life prayerfully, surely a good starting point for every-day Christian ethics.

The apostles also had much the same idea. What they said to the fellow Christians about right and wrong stemmed directly from this idea of imitating Jesus, even down to the way they upheld some parts of the law and not others. So why can’t we simply take what they said and plonk it down in the 21st Century?

The first thing that might stop us doing this is if people themselves have changed since the New Testament was written. If people are fundamentally different now to how they were then, we can’t simply take what was written to people then and say it to people now. But I think that people have not changed one jot. People are still motivated by the same sinful tendencies - greed, lust, envy, idolatry - that they have always been. Jesus is still the only perfect example of humanity - Romans 3.23 can still be said today, and for the same reasons.

But secondly, and perhaps more importantly, human culture has changed hugely over the past two thousand years, so our Western world today is almost totally unrecognisable to Jesus’ middle-Eastern world two thousand years ago. It’s almost a cliché, the point is made so often. And it is a good point to make historically - we do indeed live in a different world.

But it isn’t a very good point when we’re talking about ethics, unless one is a post-modernist. You said in your blog that the current trend is against meta-narratives, which I agree. The good old hermeneutic of suspicion means people don’t trust anything, especially if it claims to explain (nearly) everything. But a meta-narrative is exactly what the Bible presents us with. The word ’story’ is getting quite trendy these days (the dumbed-down version of narrative), but that really is what the Bible gives us - the story of God, the world and people. It even begins at the beginning and ends at the end - a meta-narrative if ever I saw one.

So that means we are in the same ’story’ that Jesus was (is) in, the same story that Paul was in, and so on. Tom Wright splits the Bible’s meta-narrative into various ‘ages’ - I expect you’ve read about it, Creation, Fall, Israel, Jesus, the Church (post-Pentecost), new Creation. They mark decisive turning points in the narrative where something changes dramatically. (Arguably the ‘Israel’ age could be split in two, perhaps pre- and post-monarchy, or pre- and post-Sinai.)

For ethics, this means that what is said in one age does not necessarily apply in another - but equally, because there is one meta-narrative, being in a different age to an ethical injunction does not necessarily mean we should ignore it. A classic example is perhaps the way Jesus treated the food laws. They applied to Israel absolutely (they had to obey them) but not to us, in the age of the Church. People can still follow them if they wish, but it is no longer a requirement. The same for circumcision.

It isn’t that we know better than people in the ‘Israel’ age, we are simply in a different place in the narrative, a place that happens to be after Jesus told us we can eat whatever we like, a place that happens to be after Paul said it does not matter if we are circumcised or not - we are justified by God’s grace.

However, as Paul showed in his letters, and as Jesus taught, certain things from the law were not simply for Israel, but for all ages. The command not to kill, or to have other gods before the Lord; I think sexual ethics fall in that bracket as well, because of what Paul says in his letters. Don’t sleep with your sister, or your mother-in-law, your sheep, another person other than a spouse, another person of the same gender. Just because the letters were written to specific churches does not mean they do not apply universally - just because God told the Israelites to have no other gods but Him does not mean that law applies only to them.

The first difficulty then is, how do we decide which bits of the law still apply and which don’t? Paul didn’t go through the whole law, saying ‘this bit, not that bit’ etc. I’ve just thought of it, maybe it doesn’t work, but perhaps the laws that don’t apply are concerned with outward signs and ritual cleanliness.

Laws concerned with outward signs of belonging to Israel or ‘cleanness’ are no longer binding, because we belong to Jesus by faith, and we are ‘clean’ by grace. That would seem to be in keeping with what is said in the New Testament. That would include the food laws, sacrificial laws, tithes, circumcision, national identity, and other ‘random’ laws about what clothes we should wear. If a woman is having her period she shouldn’t be banned from church etc.

The rest of the law, governing personal and communal morality, still applies. That includes the ten commandments, and other laws concerning our behaviour towards God, each other and people outside our community. Looking after refugees is a duty, giving financially is a duty (although how much is not necessarily important - the widow’s mite is a good example - giving has to be self-sacrificial or there’s no point). Sexual laws are important - just look at what happens to society when sex breaks out of its proper place.

I admit, this is perhaps a weak point in my argument. I’m open for other ideas, but I think the general concept is ok. It isn’t that we shouldn’t follow the law, it’s simply that we no longer need to.

Secondly, what about the stuff Paul says about women and worship (head coverings, not speaking in church etc). These need to be looked at carefully, and we need to decide how they apply today. We need to look at why Paul said these things - because they are a fundamental part of ethics, or because a particular situation demanded them?

Take the head coverings, for example. A woman displaying her hair in public is no longer a sign that she is a prostitute. Wearing a tiny skirt, high heels, a skimpy top and lots of make-up perhaps are these days. When Paul forbade women from speaking, he was referring to the prophetesses of Diana who were disrupting church services in Ephesus (if I remember correctly from my commentaries).

It may seem like selective reading of the Bible, and I suppose it is, but the criteria for selection are not arbitrary.

Thirdly, how do we face ethical situations not covered by the Bible? Abortion? Euthanasia? Given the way the emphasis has so far been on answering ethical questions by seeing what the Bible says about them, we would seem to be stuck. What if someone wants to die? Is it still wrong to kill them? When is a foetus a person, with rights?

This is where my original position comes in useful. We need to look at the way Paul (especially, but also other New Testament writers, and Jesus himself, where possible) addresses ethical problems. We need to analyse his method, look at his concerns, and use them in our own analyses.

For example, Paul was very concerned about the outward appearance of the church, that people would be turned away not because of the church itself, but because they are offended by the message of the gospel. He was also concerned that there was proper order in church services, that things didn’t descend into chaos. He emphasised the importance of not leading others astray by our actions, however right they may be.

Jesus often spoke about the importance of life over death, of light over darkness. Reading his teachings makes it difficult to accept the ‘lesser of two evils’ argument, which seems to suggest that, in some circumstances, doing evil is the only option. Pragmiatically, it’s a great argument, and gets you out of many holes, but I just don’t see it. We aren’t Jesus, granted, but we do have his Spirit, who helps us greatly.

Again, this is perhaps a weak point in my argument, because I haven’t developed it enough, but I think the basic position is there and can be built on.

My overall concern was to find a way of building an ethical framework that is Biblical, relevant and robust enough to cope with new situations not covered in the Bible. What do you think?

‘Interesting’ Service

I went to a service in an Anglican church this morning.

We prayed for the souls of the dead, said that the bread and wine 'will become' Jesus' body and blood, sang the wrong words to In Christ Alone (the 'love' of God was satisfied, not his wrath), proclaimed that the Spirit proceeds only from the Father (in the Nicene creed), and used a eucharistic prayer which mis-quoted Jesus (his blood was shed for 'all', rather than 'many').

I think that most, if not all (including the denial of God's wrath being satisfied) are explicitly against the 39 Articles, and the Book of Common Prayer. In what sense was this an Anglican service, other than that it was taken by an Anglican priest? We have universalism, a denial of substitutionary atonement, and the 'presence' of transubstantiation.

Apparently the problems with the creed and eucharistic prayer were misprints... but what misprints!

Barth on the Trinity

Barth, subtle as always: 

All theological favouritisms are... forbidden: the one-sided belief in God the Father which was customary in the Enlightenment; the so-called Christocentrism which Pietism loved and still loves; and finally all the nonsense that is and can be perpetrated with isolated veneration of the Spirit.

Barth, Church Dogmatics I.1, 395

The Spirit and Discipline

I had a fascinating discussion today with three other guys. We were talking about how to preach about holiness and drunkenness, without being judgemental.

We talked about two dangerous opposites that people fall into when seeking after holiness. Some people focus very much on personal and rigorous discipline, refusing to allow the possibility for any temptation. However the result of this is often simply repression, rather than genuine healing. The temptations remain, they are not healed, and so if the discipline cracks, an explosion is likely.

The equal and opposite approach is to focus very much on the healing power of the Holy Spirit. Being open and honest about emotions, temptations, desires, allows the Spirit to transform you inwardly, so that your desires are directed toward God, and not sin. This brings these things to the surface, hopefully so the Spirit can deal with them, but often it also enhances the temptation, making it more likely for you to fall into it.

There are very few people I imagine who would advocate one to the exclusion of the other, but there is a danger in our behaviour to tend towards one or the other. Think of it this way: which is most important? To be focused on disciplining yourself, or on being open to the Spirit's healing.

Of course, the answer is 100% of both. Repression of emotion and desire is not helpful discipline, although it may look like that. Openness to healing is not real healing if bringing things to the surface causes you to do them.

If we recognise that we fall into a certain sin or sins regularly, we need to do something about it. We need to ask God to give us the strength not to fall into temptation, to transform us so we no longer feel that temptation (it does happen, I promise!), and to work as hard as we can to make sure we don't fall into any traps.

What this looks like in real life, is regular prayer, on your own and with other people with whom you can be honest. And it means being sensible about temptation. If you struggle with drink, don't go to the pub, unless the people you're going with aren't going to drink. If you struggle with pornography, get some software that blocks it, or that emails a list of the websites you visit to someone who will hold you to account. Do these things whilst at the same time praying - and getting people to pray with and for you - about it. Be open and honest with yourself, and with someone else, about your struggles, and ask God for healing.

Discipleship (living and growing in holiness, which is the image of Christ) is really tough. And we don't help ourselves when we don't use our common sense, and when we don't ask God for his help, and when we don't make use of our fellow-Christians. One of the most important things in growing as a disciple of Jesus, is our community. We are all in this together, don't fool yourself into thinking you're the only one, or that you can sort yourself out on your own. We are all put here by God to help each other.

Of course that doesn't always work out, but it's the best (and only) way for our churches to grow in discipleship.