A couple of days ago, my former coach, sometimes-pastor, and potential father-in-law (*crosses fingers*) did a Bible study on Titus 1:1-5. You can read those verses here, and you should, because I'm going to be talking about them. Paul begins by announcing who he is--both a servant of God and an apostle of Jesus Christ. He is both of these things "for the sake of the faith of God's elect"--that is, so that their faith will be maintained and strengthened. Paul says that he is a servant and apostle, working for the sake of God's people, "in hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began." His hope and surety of eternal life is rooted in God's eternal promise, given "before the ages began."
All of this is evident and clear from the text, but now we're going to get a little deeper. Just bear with me. Paul, still speaking of this hope and promise of eternal life, says that God manifested this promise "in his word, through the preaching with which I have been entrusted by the command of God our Savior." At first glance, Paul may merely be saying that the promise of eternal life is revealed through his (Paul's) preaching. However, a closer read reveals a deeper, way cooler meaning. A glance at another Bible passage--John 1-- gives us a different understanding of "word" than a simple utterance or saying. According to John, the word of God is, in fact, Jesus Christ. If we keep this in mind when we read Titus, we see that God's promise of eternal life, made before the ages began, is manifested not only in his "word", that is, merely in a message or spoken phrase, but in his Word. The promise of eternal life is made manifest in--and, indeed, is completely identical with--Jesus Christ, the Word, who was in the beginning with God. He himself is God's promise of eternal life for us.
So that's pretty cool. But there's even more. John tells us that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. During that time, Jesus himself preached the good news: the Word preached the word. But then he ascended into heaven, leaving others to do the same thing in his place. That is why Paul says that the promise is manifested through his preaching, which God entrusted to him. This applies to all of us. So now both the Word and the word of the promise are manifested in our preaching, which we are commanded to do by God. So we preach the Gospel, and in so doing we preach Christ himself.
This is really cool. This is part of why we are called the body of Christ. Before, he himself walked the earth and was manifested to everyone who saw him. Now he is manifested through us. Just as Christ is the visible image of God, we are now the visible image of Christ, until such time as he comes again and "every eye shall see him."
A blog about Christianity, Arminianism, Calvinism, prayer, and a whole lot more.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
More Poems!
So, here are some more poems from my 12-poem collection I wrote for poetry class--the collection is called "Birth (of worlds and otherwise)". The first is titled "Go, Speed Racer, Go," and was written as a response to the movie Speed Racer. Speed Racer is one of the greatest movies of all time, and if you do not like, you are dumb.
The second is called "Meditating on Freedom," and was written while... actually, the title is pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!
The second is called "Meditating on Freedom," and was written while... actually, the title is pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!
Go, Speed Racer, Go.
Good and evil, locked in conflict:
And there’s racing, too.
Jump-jacks and flying kicks and tire shanks,
And cheaters don’t always get caught,
Because “it’s hard to see what goes on inside of those dust clouds.”
But no matter:
Speed will win, in the end: and all will agree that this is
Right and
True and
Good.
So the white car finishes first, and neither crowd nor camera
Cares about the rest.
Cares about the rest.
Because light has defeated dark,
And the dark goes to prison, because
“Cheaters never prosper.”
And after watching, you may think
That there’s something strange and incredible about
How the red and white of the finish line
Never mix into pink, and how
The checkered flag never turns gray.
Meditating on Freedom
Would you be free?
There is freedom everywhere.
In rising and in falling,
In living and in dying
There is freedom.
You cannot escape it.
And to the one who conquers, a new name will be given.
But only to the one who conquers.
You are free indeed:
Free to be a hero or villain,
Free to leave or free to go,
Free to try, and to fail
Or succeed.
You cannot escape it.
And each will be judged according to his deeds.
This is why freedom is frightening.
This is freedom:
To fight and win, or die
In the fighting, and win anyway.
To fight against even yourself,
Like the two arms of a cross,
And to receive the victor’s crown.
Freedom is the voice that says, “Well done,” when
You could have done otherwise.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
It was like when someone dies
So, I have been really busy with my now-26,000 word thesis project, a first-person story centered on Peter. It's almost done, and I'll probably post excerpts from it here eventually. If you want to read the whole thing, let me know. Anyway: this semester I took a poetry class. It's been pretty fun, and I've written several poems, some of which I like. Here is the latest one I've written, composed earlier today for class.
It was like when someone dies,
And how one second they’re alive,
And the next they’re dead,
And it’s hard to tell the difference at first,
Because they don’t look very different—
A little too pale, maybe, but that’s it.
That’s what it was like,
Except in reverse,
Because one moment the world was dead,
Filled with skeletons pretending they were alive,
Prancing in the stale light
Of the dead sun, and there was nothing new, and
Everything under the sun was old
And dead.
And they chased after a dead wind on a long journey leading
nowhere.
And then the dead light of the sun
Shone, for the first time in millennia,
On Something new, and the sun was reborn.
And new Feet walked across the dead earth
And made it live again.
And then
For a moment
There was a dead hill and a dead tomb
At the center of everything.
But then the tomb was empty. And everything was new,
And some of the skeletons grew flesh and were no longer skeletons.
They danced in the new light of the sun.
But most of the skeletons did not even notice,
Because they were still pretending.
Only by now they had forgotten
that they were, after all, only pretending.
It was like when someone dies,
And you only notice when you realize
That they haven’t taken a breath for a while.
That’s what this is like,
Except in reverse.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Sifted like wheat
I have read through Luke at least twice, most of it more than that, but for some reason I never specifically noted Luke 22:31-34. I don't know why, since it's super cool and tells us something really important about Peter.
We haven't seen Peter in a while, not since the Transfiguration. He'll show up here and there asking a question or something, but nothing terribly important. That is, until the night of the Lord's Supper. According to Luke, Jesus sends Peter and John to prepare the room (Mark only records two anonymous disciples--likely an example of Peter's humility when Mark was recording it). They eat passover, and Jesus foretells that someone is going to betray him. After a brief discussion, Jesus turns him attention to Peter. I would imagine that they might withdraw from the general conversation, because what Jesus says to Peter definitely does not qualify as polite dinner conversation.
He begins with what is possibly the most ominous opener in the history of openers: "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat" (Luke 22:31). Now, wheat is sifted by being put into a large basket with a mesh bottom and tossed into the air. This causes the wheat to separate from it's casing and other trash that might be in there. When applied to a person, this does not sound like fun times. At this time Peter may remember, as I did, the story of Job. Satan is poking at God, God responds by bringing up Job, and Satan immediately counters by asking to test Job--in essence, to "sift him like wheat." With Job, Satan is confident that when Job is sifted, he will turn out to be all trash and no wheat, and I get the feeling that Satan is trying the exact same thing with Peter.
"But," Jesus says, "I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." First part? Awesome. Second part? Not so awesome. I imagine Peter frowning at the initial piece of news, beginning to smile, then frowning again as the last line sinks in. When I have turned again? Is Jesus implying...
Yes, he is. And Peter recognizes this, which is why he immediately affirms his loyalty to Jesus. "Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death." I will not turn, Lord. I would die before that happens. And Peter genuinely believes this. Imagine his distress when, instead of smiling and patting him on the shoulder, Jesus sadly shakes his head and says "I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day until you deny three times that you know me." And then, without another word, Jesus turns and addresses the disciples as a whole, as if the previous exchange had not even occurred. And Peter is left to wonder what Jesus means, and he begins to be afraid.
This whole exchange is just incredibly interesting. Why Peter? Why has Satan demanded dominion over Peter specifically? Because Peter is the leader of the disciples. Always named first when the disciples are listed. Who dared to walk on water towards Jesus. Who named Jesus as the Christ, was given a new name by Jesus himself. Because Satan thinks (or hopes, at least) that if he can get Peter to break, demonstrate that there is no wheat, nothing solid, to Peter, than the other disciples will crumble as well. Jesus also acknowledges Peter's importance to the other disciples, telling him "when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." And he will turn away. We know that, Jesus knows that, and Satan knows it as well. But he will also return and do as Jesus tells him. In a nutshell, that's the story of Peter's life. Turn and return. Fall away and come back. Always returning, always coming back. Because he really does love Jesus.
This post was written in 2011. And in 2014, I published my very own book, Simon, Who Is Called Peter. It's a First-Person narration, meaning it gets you inside the head of Jesus' most notorious disciple. However, it's also extensively footnoted, referencing dozens of commentaries and scholarly works on the life of Peter. CLint Arnold, Dean of Talbot School of Theology, calls it "an account that is both faithful to the biblical text and engagingly expressed," and Darian Lockett, Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies, describes it as "a comprehensive portrait of Peter that is delightfully and skillfully woven together with the fabric of the New Testament." If that sounds like something you'd like to read, check it out!
We haven't seen Peter in a while, not since the Transfiguration. He'll show up here and there asking a question or something, but nothing terribly important. That is, until the night of the Lord's Supper. According to Luke, Jesus sends Peter and John to prepare the room (Mark only records two anonymous disciples--likely an example of Peter's humility when Mark was recording it). They eat passover, and Jesus foretells that someone is going to betray him. After a brief discussion, Jesus turns him attention to Peter. I would imagine that they might withdraw from the general conversation, because what Jesus says to Peter definitely does not qualify as polite dinner conversation.
He begins with what is possibly the most ominous opener in the history of openers: "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat" (Luke 22:31). Now, wheat is sifted by being put into a large basket with a mesh bottom and tossed into the air. This causes the wheat to separate from it's casing and other trash that might be in there. When applied to a person, this does not sound like fun times. At this time Peter may remember, as I did, the story of Job. Satan is poking at God, God responds by bringing up Job, and Satan immediately counters by asking to test Job--in essence, to "sift him like wheat." With Job, Satan is confident that when Job is sifted, he will turn out to be all trash and no wheat, and I get the feeling that Satan is trying the exact same thing with Peter.
"But," Jesus says, "I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." First part? Awesome. Second part? Not so awesome. I imagine Peter frowning at the initial piece of news, beginning to smile, then frowning again as the last line sinks in. When I have turned again? Is Jesus implying...
Yes, he is. And Peter recognizes this, which is why he immediately affirms his loyalty to Jesus. "Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death." I will not turn, Lord. I would die before that happens. And Peter genuinely believes this. Imagine his distress when, instead of smiling and patting him on the shoulder, Jesus sadly shakes his head and says "I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day until you deny three times that you know me." And then, without another word, Jesus turns and addresses the disciples as a whole, as if the previous exchange had not even occurred. And Peter is left to wonder what Jesus means, and he begins to be afraid.
This whole exchange is just incredibly interesting. Why Peter? Why has Satan demanded dominion over Peter specifically? Because Peter is the leader of the disciples. Always named first when the disciples are listed. Who dared to walk on water towards Jesus. Who named Jesus as the Christ, was given a new name by Jesus himself. Because Satan thinks (or hopes, at least) that if he can get Peter to break, demonstrate that there is no wheat, nothing solid, to Peter, than the other disciples will crumble as well. Jesus also acknowledges Peter's importance to the other disciples, telling him "when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." And he will turn away. We know that, Jesus knows that, and Satan knows it as well. But he will also return and do as Jesus tells him. In a nutshell, that's the story of Peter's life. Turn and return. Fall away and come back. Always returning, always coming back. Because he really does love Jesus.
This post was written in 2011. And in 2014, I published my very own book, Simon, Who Is Called Peter. It's a First-Person narration, meaning it gets you inside the head of Jesus' most notorious disciple. However, it's also extensively footnoted, referencing dozens of commentaries and scholarly works on the life of Peter. CLint Arnold, Dean of Talbot School of Theology, calls it "an account that is both faithful to the biblical text and engagingly expressed," and Darian Lockett, Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies, describes it as "a comprehensive portrait of Peter that is delightfully and skillfully woven together with the fabric of the New Testament." If that sounds like something you'd like to read, check it out!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Further Adventures of Peter
We've seen Peter get to know Christ. We've seen him walk on water, we've seen him acknowledge Jesus as the Son of God, and seen him totally slapped down by Christ for trying to turn him away from God's purpose. Now we get to see him make a total fool of himself when he probably should be reverently silent. This, my friends, is the Transfiguration (Matt. 17, Mark 9, and Luke 9).
First, a bit of technical stuff. The original Greek word, translated as transfiguration, is metamorpho, and the form actually used in the verse (Matt. 17:2) is metamorphothe (according to my room mate and good friend Mike Towsen). According to the internet, the word means to transform, to literally or figuratively metamorphose or change. It can also mean to change the outside to match the inside (which is pretty freaking sweet).
Jesus takes Peter, James, and John with him up a high mountain. These are the same three people he takes with him when he prays in Gethsemene. This most likely demonstrates that these three were part of an inner group within the disciples, whom Christ trusted and relied upon more than the others.
So Jesus takes these three guys with him up to the mountain and out of nowhere, "[Jesus] was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him." This is pretty nuts. We, not being born and raised Jewish, don't really get the full craziness of this moment. Jesus starts shining really bright, like the sun, bringing to mind heavenly images from Daniel and Isaiah. With him is Moses, who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, who brought down the Ten Commandments, who interceded between God and Israel; and also Elijah, easily one of the most powerful prophets in the Old testament (top 2, certainly), faster than a speeding chariot, slaughterer of the priests of Baal, bringer of both drought and rain. This is HUGE, to three Jewish men born and raised in the faith.
Now, Elijah and Moses don't just stand there, but start talking to Jesus. And Luke records that they "spoke of [Jesus'] departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem." (Luke 9:28). This seems very interesting, and may shed some light on what Peter says immediately following the exchange. Luke tells us that "as the men were parting from him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you, and one for Moses and one for Elijah." Luke then explains this comment--"not knowing what he was saying." For a long time, I've thought of Peter's comment as an utterly nonsensical nonsequitor, uttered in the heat of the moment, the ultimate example of something that sounded way better in your head. And it is all these things. But I think there's something more to it.
Jesus, Moses, and Elijah were talking of Jesus' immanent departure, and if there's one thing the disciples clearly don't have a firm grasp on, it's what is going to happen at Jerusalem. So Peter probably doesn't understand what they're talking about--all he knows is that they're talking about Jesus leaving. Jesus, the one person he loved so much that he walked on water to try to get to him. Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the Living God, prophesied to redeem the people of Israel. And now he's going to leave? That is why, just as "the men were parting from him [Jesus]," Peter makes his move. He thinks that Jesus might leave right now. And he doesn't want that to happen yet. "Hey, isn't it great that we're all here?! Let's make you guys three tents and we can all hang out together!" It's inappropriate. It's poorly thought out. It just doesn't make any sense at all. But, once again, it tells us something about Peter. It demonstrates an eagerness to be with Jesus and an unwillingness to part from Him. Now, as we saw in Mat. 16:21-23, this desire itself can be twisted and perverted, but this time Peter is not rebuked.
I can imagine an awkward silence following Peter's remark, broken when "a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, 'This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.'" The disciples, hearing this voice, after everything else that has already happened, quite sensibly fall on their faces. Imagine Peter's fear, in the sudden silence following these words from heaven, that he will look up to find Jesus gone. Imagine his relief, his incredible joy, when he feels a touch on his shoulder and hears the voice that had called him from his fishing boat say "Rise, and have no fear." And then they descended the mountain together.
This post was written in 2011. And in 2014, I published my very own book, Simon, Who Is Called Peter. It's a First-Person narration, meaning it gets you inside the head of Jesus' most notorious disciple. However, it's also extensively footnoted, referencing dozens of commentaries and scholarly works on the life of Peter. Clint Arnold, Dean of Talbot School of Theology, calls it "an account that is both faithful to the biblical text and engagingly expressed," and Darian Lockett, Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies, describes it as "a comprehensive portrait of Peter that is delightfully and skillfully woven together with the fabric of the New Testament." If that sounds like something you'd like to read, check it out!
First, a bit of technical stuff. The original Greek word, translated as transfiguration, is metamorpho, and the form actually used in the verse (Matt. 17:2) is metamorphothe (according to my room mate and good friend Mike Towsen). According to the internet, the word means to transform, to literally or figuratively metamorphose or change. It can also mean to change the outside to match the inside (which is pretty freaking sweet).
Jesus takes Peter, James, and John with him up a high mountain. These are the same three people he takes with him when he prays in Gethsemene. This most likely demonstrates that these three were part of an inner group within the disciples, whom Christ trusted and relied upon more than the others.
So Jesus takes these three guys with him up to the mountain and out of nowhere, "[Jesus] was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him." This is pretty nuts. We, not being born and raised Jewish, don't really get the full craziness of this moment. Jesus starts shining really bright, like the sun, bringing to mind heavenly images from Daniel and Isaiah. With him is Moses, who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, who brought down the Ten Commandments, who interceded between God and Israel; and also Elijah, easily one of the most powerful prophets in the Old testament (top 2, certainly), faster than a speeding chariot, slaughterer of the priests of Baal, bringer of both drought and rain. This is HUGE, to three Jewish men born and raised in the faith.
Now, Elijah and Moses don't just stand there, but start talking to Jesus. And Luke records that they "spoke of [Jesus'] departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem." (Luke 9:28). This seems very interesting, and may shed some light on what Peter says immediately following the exchange. Luke tells us that "as the men were parting from him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you, and one for Moses and one for Elijah." Luke then explains this comment--"not knowing what he was saying." For a long time, I've thought of Peter's comment as an utterly nonsensical nonsequitor, uttered in the heat of the moment, the ultimate example of something that sounded way better in your head. And it is all these things. But I think there's something more to it.
Jesus, Moses, and Elijah were talking of Jesus' immanent departure, and if there's one thing the disciples clearly don't have a firm grasp on, it's what is going to happen at Jerusalem. So Peter probably doesn't understand what they're talking about--all he knows is that they're talking about Jesus leaving. Jesus, the one person he loved so much that he walked on water to try to get to him. Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the Living God, prophesied to redeem the people of Israel. And now he's going to leave? That is why, just as "the men were parting from him [Jesus]," Peter makes his move. He thinks that Jesus might leave right now. And he doesn't want that to happen yet. "Hey, isn't it great that we're all here?! Let's make you guys three tents and we can all hang out together!" It's inappropriate. It's poorly thought out. It just doesn't make any sense at all. But, once again, it tells us something about Peter. It demonstrates an eagerness to be with Jesus and an unwillingness to part from Him. Now, as we saw in Mat. 16:21-23, this desire itself can be twisted and perverted, but this time Peter is not rebuked.
I can imagine an awkward silence following Peter's remark, broken when "a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, 'This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.'" The disciples, hearing this voice, after everything else that has already happened, quite sensibly fall on their faces. Imagine Peter's fear, in the sudden silence following these words from heaven, that he will look up to find Jesus gone. Imagine his relief, his incredible joy, when he feels a touch on his shoulder and hears the voice that had called him from his fishing boat say "Rise, and have no fear." And then they descended the mountain together.
This post was written in 2011. And in 2014, I published my very own book, Simon, Who Is Called Peter. It's a First-Person narration, meaning it gets you inside the head of Jesus' most notorious disciple. However, it's also extensively footnoted, referencing dozens of commentaries and scholarly works on the life of Peter. Clint Arnold, Dean of Talbot School of Theology, calls it "an account that is both faithful to the biblical text and engagingly expressed," and Darian Lockett, Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies, describes it as "a comprehensive portrait of Peter that is delightfully and skillfully woven together with the fabric of the New Testament." If that sounds like something you'd like to read, check it out!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Job
My last big paper at Oxford was about how G. K. Chesterton's novel The Man who was Thursday could be read as a re-telling of the book of Job (it totally is, btw). That meant that I had to do a lot of research and thinking about the book of Job, the first two chapters in particular. These two chapters set the stage for the rest of the book, so we're going to look at them today.
The first five verses serve to establish the upright character of Job, who "feared God and turned away from evil." He does sin occasionally (see 7:20-21), but on the whole, as far as Old Testament man can be, he is "blameless and upright."
The next verse, 6, marks a change of setting. We are no longer looking at Job on earth, but are at the day "when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came among them." Supernatural beings, fallen and/or unfallen, have come before God, and God asks Satan, "From where have you come?" Satan responds, "From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it." This seems like a kind of challenge that Satan is throwing at God. His reply is very specific and almost redundant, like when you want to make a point. God asks "Where have you come from?" and Satan says, "Just, you know, walking around on earth--you know, where I live, where I hold dominion. The earth, whose inhabitants I stole from you. Just walking around there, you know. Doin' my thing."
If it is a challenge, God certainly rises to the occasion, meeting it with a challenge of his own. "Have you considered my servant Job?" Basically, God is saying, "Oh, you've been walking around on earth? Did you happen to see my servant Job? You'd remember him--blameless, upright, turns away from all evil... you know Job. Did you happen to see him while you were walking around on earth?" God refuses to let Satan's implicit claim to the earth stand, and instead presents him with proof that, although he may walk the earth, he doesn't control it.
It's clear from Satan's response that he has considered Job, and that it's a bit of a sore spot, because he instantly goes on the defensive. "Does Job fear God for no reason?" Satan asks. "Have you not put a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side?... But stretch out your hand and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face." Satan admits God's initial premise--that Job fears God and avoids evil--but then makes a counter-argument. "You're so proud of Job? You think he loves you, that he serves you selflessly? Take away all the stuff you've given him, then, and we'll see what happens." Now, Satan genuinely believes this, that Job's love for God is motivated primarily by what has been given to him (as it apparently was for Satan himself). He really thinks he can win this.
Then comes the most interesting part of the story--God agrees to the test. God quite literally places Job into Satan's hands, with the only restriction being that Job must live.
So to recap--Satan comes before the Lord, fresh from "going to and fro" on the earth, and God immediately takes the opening Satan gives him to bring up Job, the counter to Satan's implied dominion over the earth. Satan ups the stakes, claiming that Job is only in it for what he can get, and God accepts the challenge. Thus Job, a mere man, becomes the focus of all the inhabitants of heaven and hell, with both angels and demons watching to see what Job will do. If Job persists, Satan's challenge is soundly defeated, but if Job falls...
That's the point of the whole book, really. Job suffers not as a result of his sin (as his three friends+Elihu maintain). Job suffers because he has been chosen as the subject of the great celestial wager, whether man may persist in loving and obeying God even when all visible and physical reasons for love and obedience have failed. It is an opportunity for great glory or great shame, as all trials are.
So, I totally plan on returning to Peter pretty soon. This was just something I was thinking about while I was doing chores.
The first five verses serve to establish the upright character of Job, who "feared God and turned away from evil." He does sin occasionally (see 7:20-21), but on the whole, as far as Old Testament man can be, he is "blameless and upright."
The next verse, 6, marks a change of setting. We are no longer looking at Job on earth, but are at the day "when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came among them." Supernatural beings, fallen and/or unfallen, have come before God, and God asks Satan, "From where have you come?" Satan responds, "From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it." This seems like a kind of challenge that Satan is throwing at God. His reply is very specific and almost redundant, like when you want to make a point. God asks "Where have you come from?" and Satan says, "Just, you know, walking around on earth--you know, where I live, where I hold dominion. The earth, whose inhabitants I stole from you. Just walking around there, you know. Doin' my thing."
If it is a challenge, God certainly rises to the occasion, meeting it with a challenge of his own. "Have you considered my servant Job?" Basically, God is saying, "Oh, you've been walking around on earth? Did you happen to see my servant Job? You'd remember him--blameless, upright, turns away from all evil... you know Job. Did you happen to see him while you were walking around on earth?" God refuses to let Satan's implicit claim to the earth stand, and instead presents him with proof that, although he may walk the earth, he doesn't control it.
It's clear from Satan's response that he has considered Job, and that it's a bit of a sore spot, because he instantly goes on the defensive. "Does Job fear God for no reason?" Satan asks. "Have you not put a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side?... But stretch out your hand and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face." Satan admits God's initial premise--that Job fears God and avoids evil--but then makes a counter-argument. "You're so proud of Job? You think he loves you, that he serves you selflessly? Take away all the stuff you've given him, then, and we'll see what happens." Now, Satan genuinely believes this, that Job's love for God is motivated primarily by what has been given to him (as it apparently was for Satan himself). He really thinks he can win this.
Then comes the most interesting part of the story--God agrees to the test. God quite literally places Job into Satan's hands, with the only restriction being that Job must live.
So to recap--Satan comes before the Lord, fresh from "going to and fro" on the earth, and God immediately takes the opening Satan gives him to bring up Job, the counter to Satan's implied dominion over the earth. Satan ups the stakes, claiming that Job is only in it for what he can get, and God accepts the challenge. Thus Job, a mere man, becomes the focus of all the inhabitants of heaven and hell, with both angels and demons watching to see what Job will do. If Job persists, Satan's challenge is soundly defeated, but if Job falls...
That's the point of the whole book, really. Job suffers not as a result of his sin (as his three friends+Elihu maintain). Job suffers because he has been chosen as the subject of the great celestial wager, whether man may persist in loving and obeying God even when all visible and physical reasons for love and obedience have failed. It is an opportunity for great glory or great shame, as all trials are.
So, I totally plan on returning to Peter pretty soon. This was just something I was thinking about while I was doing chores.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Light in the darkness
There is a man who walks the Shadowlands, and to earthly eyes, which see things dimly in that dark place, there is perhaps nothing remarkable about what humans so ignorantly call his "life." But the eyes of heaven see clearly, and this is what they see.
They see a warrior, strong and bold. In his hand he holds a sword of light, and everything he sees, he sees by the light of the sword. He strides the earth, even larger in spirit than he is in body, and he brings the light of the sword into many places darkened by shadow. The armies of heaven, assembled in honor of the great warrior, watch the darkness hurl assault after assault at the man, and they watch the man stand firm through all of them, upheld by the light of the sword.
But the final blow is yet to come, and this the man can not withstand. The blow falls, unseen but not unfelt, and the man staggers. He grows weak, and seems to shrink. His steps no longer shake the ground, and soon he cannot even stand. He falls to his knees, but he holds tight to the sword, taking comfort in its light even as the darkness closes in around him.
But wait! The darkness halts it's advance, then flees as a light brighter than the sun surrounds the man. And out of the light comes another man, burning brightly, and a voice that sounds of battle and victory says, "Rise, warrior, for the night is over." The King, the great Captain of the hosts of Heaven, has come to welcome the soldier home. The man, still on his knees, sees the holes in the feet before him. He begins to fall forward, but nail-scarred hands raise him up, and the King says, "Be proud, my brother! Do you not remember, as I do, those years of glorious battle against the darkness? Have you forgotten how you held my sword tightly when the whole world tried to take it from you? Look around you! Do you not see the armies of heaven, come here to give you homage? I know what it is to be wrapped in darkness, and I know well the courage and steadfastness with which you faced it. Come and receive the victor's crown."
"The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne." Revelations 3:21
They see a warrior, strong and bold. In his hand he holds a sword of light, and everything he sees, he sees by the light of the sword. He strides the earth, even larger in spirit than he is in body, and he brings the light of the sword into many places darkened by shadow. The armies of heaven, assembled in honor of the great warrior, watch the darkness hurl assault after assault at the man, and they watch the man stand firm through all of them, upheld by the light of the sword.
But the final blow is yet to come, and this the man can not withstand. The blow falls, unseen but not unfelt, and the man staggers. He grows weak, and seems to shrink. His steps no longer shake the ground, and soon he cannot even stand. He falls to his knees, but he holds tight to the sword, taking comfort in its light even as the darkness closes in around him.
But wait! The darkness halts it's advance, then flees as a light brighter than the sun surrounds the man. And out of the light comes another man, burning brightly, and a voice that sounds of battle and victory says, "Rise, warrior, for the night is over." The King, the great Captain of the hosts of Heaven, has come to welcome the soldier home. The man, still on his knees, sees the holes in the feet before him. He begins to fall forward, but nail-scarred hands raise him up, and the King says, "Be proud, my brother! Do you not remember, as I do, those years of glorious battle against the darkness? Have you forgotten how you held my sword tightly when the whole world tried to take it from you? Look around you! Do you not see the armies of heaven, come here to give you homage? I know what it is to be wrapped in darkness, and I know well the courage and steadfastness with which you faced it. Come and receive the victor's crown."
"The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne." Revelations 3:21
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