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For since the law has but a shadow of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered every year, make perfect those who draw near.  (Heb 10:1)

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.  (Mt 5:17)

Many years ago, I heard an interview on the radio in which a secular news reporter was criticizing Christians for being inconsistent and failing to follow their own book. “For example,” he said, “The Bible clearly forbids people from eating pork, yet Christians everywhere think nothing of putting pepperoni on their pizza.”

When I heard what he said, I couldn’t believe my ears. I was embarrassed at the critique — not for myself but for the reporter. He was obviously a well-educated man, but he plainly had no idea what Christians believe about the relationship between the Old and New Testaments. I was embarrassed at his confident display of ignorance.

Since that time, I have heard the same accusation many times over, sometimes dealing with food, sometimes with other examples — Christians wear clothes with mixed fabrics; Christians do not stone adulterers or children who curse their parents; Christians do not practice the Old Testament ceremonial washings or require circumcision. Every time I hear the accusation, I feel the same embarrassment that I felt for the news reporter. Apparently many people actually believe that Christians are hypocrites for failing to practice much of the ceremonial and civil law that appears in the Old Testament. What they do not understand is that Christians would be hypocrites if they required people to keep the ceremonial and civil laws in the Old Testament.

It seems necessary, therefore, to say something about what Christians believe about the relationship between the two testaments. Before we talk about Old Testament history, however, let’s talk about more recent times. In the nineteenth century, the United States had laws regulating slavery. Today those laws are meaningless, for the context has changed. In the nineteenth century, however, the United States also had laws prohibiting murder and stealing. Those prohibitions still exist and will continue to exist. No doubt you can think of other examples of both types of law, for there are many of each. It seems rather plain, then, that some laws change with the times, while other laws remain fairly constant. No normal person would criticize a U.S. citizen today for failing to follow nineteenth century tax law. We do not live under nineteenth century tax law. We would, however, criticize a citizen who violated nineteenth century laws on kidnapping or rape, for we recognize that those prohibitions still apply. Now the relationship between the Old Testament laws and the Christian is much like this normal relationship we recognize with law in general.

Some Old Testament laws deal with moral and character issues that are universal. Other Old Testament laws deal with a specific government in a specific time. In this respect, the Old Testament is no different from the laws of any other land.  But with the Old Testament another category also applies. Some Old Testament laws symbolize or foreshadow future realities. Those realities came in Jesus, and now we no longer need the symbols, for the real thing is here. It seems appropriate, therefore, to talk briefly about these different categories of Old Testament law.

First, the obvious. The Old Testament came before the New Testament, and the New builds upon the Old. The Old Testament is like the first 40 chapters of the story, and the New is the remainder of the story, to include the climax. The Old Testament provides the context for Jesus, and both Old and New Testaments focus on the same thing — Jesus. The Old Testament prepares people for the coming Messiah; the New reveals Him. The Old foreshadows a perfect sacrifice for sin; the New enacts it. The Old predicts the coming of a new covenant; the New releases it. The Old is constantly looking forward; the New is constantly looking back at the Cross and Resurrection. Both testaments describe the same event from different perspectives. Because the New Testament comes after the Cross, it gives a clearer picture than the Old, but one can easily see the New in the Old and vice versa.

This means that the New Testament interprets the Old. The clearer picture helps us understand the older one. Suppose you have two pictures of the same mountain.  One is an old drawing in which the artist drew the mountain based on a description given to him, and one is a clear photo in which the contours of the mountain are easily discernible. The clear photo helps you see what the artist was trying to represent. In similar fashion, the New Testament helps us understand the Old Testament law, the sacrificial system, the Messiah, and the covenant between God and Israel.

The Old Testament tells the story of God’s dealings with His people. Included within those dealings are many laws. The New Testament is clear that some of those laws deal with moral issues and are, thus, still commanded for one who would follow Jesus. Do not commit adultery, do not steal, honor your father and mother are some examples. The New Testament is also clear that much of the Old Testament law was ceremonial and symbolic (see the book of Hebrews). Sometimes that ancient law existed merely to symbolize a purity that God demanded of His people. Wearing clothes made from only one type of cloth and plowing fields with one type of animal might fit that category. Sometimes it existed to symbolize the fact that God’s people were to be set apart from the rest of the world. Circumcision and dietary laws might fit that category. Often it existed to foreshadow a coming reality. The entire sacrificial system complete with its washings and rituals fits this category, and so do the laws symbolizing purity and the fact that we are to be set apart.  In Jesus, all of these categories are now fulfilled, for in Him, we are made pure on the inside, we are set apart from the world in how we live, and we see in the Cross the true sacrifice that the ceremonial sacrifices symbolized. Thus, Christians do not do away with the Old Testament laws. Rather, in Jesus, they fulfill them. The Christian is under a new administration, but it is not any administration. It is the very administration that the Old Testament was pointing towards.

In other instances, Old Testament laws — particularly punishments for crimes — reflected a situation in which the entire nation consisted of those who were supposed to be the people of God. In that case, often the punishment for a crime was the real punishment that God says a particular crime deserves. Adultery, breaking the Sabbath, cursing your parents, and more received the death penalty under the old covenant. The punishment was more severe because the entire nation was supposed to be the people of God. God could hold them to a higher standard. These punishments, thus, reveal the severity of sin. They show us how God views such sins. They do not mean that civil government today should adopt such punishments, for the context has changed.

Today, the people of God are interspersed throughout many nations. Today the people of God are a minority in every nation, including those nations that identify as Christian. Today the people of God are a spiritual body and not a civil entity. Thus, civil laws that were unique to a situation in which the people of God were a nation unto themselves do not fit the current situation in which the people of God have no borders, are a minority within any nation, and are a spiritual body. If an entire nation truly was the people of God, then the severe punishments we see in the Old Testament would rarely be carried out. Today, however, if civil government had such punishments, most of the world would be in instant trouble.

Now, of course, since the Old Testament contains different categories of laws, one must determine which laws are universal and which are not. Some people talk as if this is hard to determine. In most instances, it isn’t.   It is fairly obvious that some laws, like prohibitions against murder and lying, are universal moral issues. It is also fairly obvious that other laws, like the kind of food you eat, have no moral basis in and of themselves.   They had a purpose, but that purpose was something other than moral.

For the Christian, the New Testament sheds light on the Old. This means that the New Testament has something to say about the true purpose of the Old Testament laws. When the New Testament describes what sinful and righteous lives look like, it often does so by reiterating Old Testament commands (Rm 1; Eph 4-5). Murder, stealing, coveting, lying, crude language, idolatry, greed, disobedience to parents, drunkenness, adultery, homosexuality, rebellion and more are all condemned in the Old Testament and then condemned again in the New. In these situations, interpretation is obvious. The Christian lives under the current administration of the New Testament, and that administration plainly states that such behaviors are universal moral issues.

The New Testament, however, also states that other Old Testament laws no longer apply. The imperfect sacrifices of Leviticus have given way to the perfect sacrifice of Jesus (Heb 10). The sign of God’s people is no longer circumcision but faith and a life that reflects it (Galatians). The dietary laws are described as morally neutral and nonbinding (Mark 7:14-20). In all of these situations, the New Testament never condemns the Old Testament laws. It does not say that they were immoral or unjust. It says simply that a new era has begun.

Now if Christians truly believe that they live under a new era, they would be hypocrites to require people to go live under the old era. That old era has been fulfilled. Therefore, if you like pepperoni, put it on your pizza. And if people criticize you for not following the Bible, I guess you’ll just have to love them. It may be appropriate to gently correct them — or it may not be, depending on the situation — but they don’t know what they are saying.

… a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth. (II Tim 2:15)

As you spoke in ancient times to real people in real settings, so, too, do you speak today to real people in real settings, and you use what you said to the ancient people to encourage and challenge us modern people.  Praise your name!

We have been talking about how to read the Bible, and I have been saying that, in one sense, we ought to read the Bible in much the same way we read other books. The past couple blogs have given some examples. We talked about adjusting how we interpret the Bible according to the genre we are reading. We then talked about the importance of the writer’s situation and historical context and used two letters from Paul to illustrate. But the Bible contains more than Paul’s letters. So let’s continue talking about writer’s situation and historical context, except today let’s focus on one prophet and the psalms.

In the book of Micah, the prophet foretells the birth of Messiah in Bethlehem (Mic 5:1-4). We often bring this prophecy out at Christmas, but we rarely mention the writer’s situation and context, even though Micah states up front that Jerusalem is under siege when he writes (5:1). This fact adds significantly to the meaning of what God was doing with that prophecy. When God predicted a ruler who was from ancient days but who would be born in Bethlehem, he was sending a message of hope to a people who did not know if they would be alive tomorrow. God gave them encouragement in their situation by giving them something bigger than their situation. Micah did not write to give you and me information we could put in our Christmas programs. He wrote to encourage despondent people. You see, the message of a coming Messiah is hope in a desperate situation just as the message of the 2^nd coming is today hope in our desperate situations.

The prophets are constantly addressing a people facing problems like invasions, sieges, injustice, corruption, idolatry, and more. When you read the prophets, they often describe their context for you just as Micah did. Listen to it and try to put yourself into the situation of someone facing the same issues. You will better understand what the prophet is doing.

When it comes to the psalms, each psalm has a historical context. Sometimes we know that context, sometimes we don’t. Some psalms come with a preface that states the context. Psalm 54 says that David wrote the psalm “when the Ziphites went and told Saul, ‘Is not David hiding among us?’” This story appears in I Samuel 23:15-29, and you will better understand Psalm 54 if you read that story first. The story helps you get inside the head of David.

Many psalms, however, do not have such a preface.  Instead, some psalms refer to the context in their body. In Psalm 86 David says “O God, insolent men have risen up against me; a band of ruthless men seeks my life, and they do not set you before them.” (v. 14). When we read this psalm, we must understand that evil men are attacking David in order to kill him. When David then says, “All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord” (v. 9), he is making a great statement of faith because what he sees with his eyes is that men ignore God and want to kill the godly. The historical context helps us see David as a real man struggling with real difficulties, but it also magnifies his faith. This is not a nebulous “Preserve my life” (v.2). It addresses a situation just as specific as yours and mine.

Now all this talk of history within the psalms does not mean that the psalms are history texts, but neither are they ahistorical because they are songs. No one thinks Francis Scott Key was trying to write history when he wrote the “Star Spangled Banner.” At the same time, no one doubts the historicity of the battle of Baltimore Harbor, the event that inspired the song. When he wrote that he saw “in the dawn’s early light … the rockets red glare and the bombs bursting in air,” he is likely describing what he saw.  If you think of the psalms as something like that, you will not be amiss.

Finally, sometimes historical context can give perspective on difficult texts. In Psalm 137, the author blesses him who takes the infants of Babylon and dashes them against the rock (v 9). Some people do not understand how the Bible can say such things. But we live in our antiseptic world, divorced from the realities that drove this psalm. The author is a Jew who has likely witnessed Babylon dash Jewish infants into the rock. He was likely there when the armies burned the city and put to death thousands of innocent men, women, and children. He has likely seen women raped and the temple razed to the ground. He has vivid pictures in his mind of Edomites shouting, “Lay it bare, lay it bare, down to its foundations!” (v. 7) He has now been taken as a slave into captivity in Babylon (vv. 1-3), and in this psalm, he expresses his raw feelings, and asks God to repay Babylon with what she did to Jerusalem (v 8). The prayer is a cry for justice. The author expresses that cry with such a crude image (v. 9) because that may be the image that he cannot get out of his head. He will never forget what he saw.

The Babylonian destruction and captivity of Judah is the historical context of the psalm. It is so foreign to us. We cannot imagine anyone thinking what this author said about the babies of Babylon. But then neither can we imagine going through what this author just went through. We sit in our easy chairs 2700 years after the fact, sip our lattes, and somehow think we understand. We pass judgment on a man who just went through hell. The historical context, however, tempers our judgment. You and I will never completely understand the feelings of this psalmist. We haven’t walked in his shoes, and we don’t want to. But the historical context shows me where his feelings came from.

Imagine an African man in the 19^th century who was forcibly taken from his family, put onto a boat, and shipped to America. He was sold into slavery on a Southern plantation. He was whipped and beaten. He eventually started a family in America, only to have his master take away his boy and finally sell his wife to someone else. He wished and prayed for justice, and he prayed that his master would lose his own boy and see what it is like.

Today, I may not wish such things on anybody, but I get it. I know why that man feels that way. The historical context he is in changes how I look at him. We need to see this psalm and many other psalms in much the same way. And we need to see that we, too, can express our real feelings to God, even if what comes out might sound crude. I think God is a big enough God to deal with our hurt.

“… a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.”  (II Tim 2:15)

I pray, Lord, that you grant me your Spirit as I read to help me grasp the plain sense of what you say.

Let’s say you write a simple text that says, “Hi Abdul, We’ll come Saturday.” You write that text because you are in a specific situation and feel the need to communicate specific information to a specific audience. And this is true no matter what you write. The simplest email or a 300-page dissertation both give specific information to a specific audience to address a specific situation. All writing does this, including Biblical writing. Therefore, if you want to understand the Bible, it helps to understand a writer’s situation and context. This is rather basic, but let me give some examples where knowledge of a situation helps us understand Scripture.

Let’s begin with Paul. Paul himself tells us that he is a former Pharisee of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews, and that he once tried to persecute the faith he now follows. He has a calling to take the gospel of Jesus to Gentiles, so he is a cross-cultural minister, but he is also steeped in the Old Testament and quotes it profusely. When you read Paul, you have to let him remain a Hebrew and not try to make him a 21^st century American or Asian or whatever. In this sense, you need to understand the Jewishness of the gospel. Even when Paul writes to Gentiles, the gospel is the culmination of the Hebrew Scriptures. And even when Paul says that Gentiles do not have to keep certain Jewish ceremonial laws, he says that their faith is rooted in God’s eternal plan revealed in the Hebrew Scriptures. In other words, Paul is a Hebrew even when he is telling people that they don’t have to be Hebrews. It’s who he is. And it’s what the gospel is. This means that when you read Paul, try to understand him from his sandals.

Now Paul wrote many letters, but they are not the same. For example, he received information that one of the churches he had planted had abandoned the gospel of justification by faith and had accepted contrary doctrines. He wrote an official letter to that church in order to address the specific doctrines they embraced with the intent that the church read his letter publicly. That letter is Galatians.

Toward the end of his life, however, Paul found himself in prison. He believed that his life was poured out and that the authorities would soon execute him. He wrote a private and deeply personal final message to a man whom he regarded as a son. That letter is II Timothy.

One author. Two very different situations. This means that when you read II Timothy, you must read it differently from the way you read Galatians. It is private, not public. It does not touch on many of the themes or problems Paul deals with when he writes publicly. The tone is different. The style is different. The wording is different. The topics are different. But the man is the same. His situation, however, has greatly impacted what he says and how he says it. This is common sense. No one writes a private letter to his son in the same way that he writes an open letter to the editor. Nor does he necessarily say the same kinds of things.

When you read Galatians, therefore, understand that Paul is combating the idea within the church that God justifies us on the basis of our keeping the law. Paul is saying, “Your faith, not your works, saves you.” He argues it. He supports it from the Old Testament. He contrasts it with the error the Galatians were embracing. He discusses the implications of living life under this new gospel of faith. Most everything he says in Galatians is tied to the idea that justification comes by faith, not works. That is the historical situation he is addressing. If you miss that, you miss Galatians.

But when you read II Timothy, you hear a man pouring out his heart to his son and encouraging that son to fight on. Whether that son is to guard the good deposit entrusted to him in the Scriptures, or to entrust to faithful men what he has received from Paul, or to remember Jesus Christ risen from the dead, or to remind the church of these things, or to present himself to God, or to rightly handle the Word, or to flee earthly passions, or to avoid controversy, or to preach the Word, or to … You get the idea. You see what Paul is doing. And he is doing it because “the time of [his] departure has come.” He has fought the good fight and finished the race, and now it is time to pass the baton to the next runner. That is the situation Paul is in. If you miss that, you miss II Timothy.

Common sense.  When you read the Scriptures, use your common sense.

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.  (II Tim 2:15)

 Father, help me approach your Word with a right head as well as a right heart.  Grant me your common sense.

The Bible is not an ordinary book. If you do not have a right heart, you will never understand it, for it is more than words. And yet the Bible is an ordinary book. Its writers were real people writing to a real audience with a real historical setting. Sometimes they wrote history, sometimes legal code, sometimes songs and poetry, sometimes letters, sometimes proverbs, sometimes prophecy; and when they wrote, they used normal words with normal meanings to fit their purpose. In this respect, the Bible is like all other books, and the skills that help us interpret the U.S. Constitution, Hamlet, and the lyrics of the Beatles also help us interpret the Bible.

For example, if you want to understand Thomas Paine, it helps first to know the meanings of the words he used. It then helps to know that he is writing nonfiction, that he is a child of the Enlightenment, and that he is personally sympathetic to the colonial cause during the American Revolution. In this respect, interpreting the Bible is like interpreting Thomas Paine. You need to know what the words mean. You need to take into consideration the genre, the writer’s specific situation, and the broader historical context. And when it comes to the Bible, learning these factors does not require a college degree or years of study.

But it does require study. The study of Scripture is important. It often helps us discern the plain sense of a passage.

Let’s give some examples. Today we will talk about genre.

Common sense says that the genre of a piece of literature should inform how we read it. We should not interpret poetry the same way we interpret epistles. Common sense also says that if the author declares his genre, we should give precedence to what the author states. For example, Luke states outright that he has “carefully investigated” many sources and is writing an “orderly account” of the events that happened (Lk1:1-4). Common sense, thus, indicates that one must interpret the Gospel of Luke to be historical narrative. That is what Luke himself says he is writing. In fact, any interpretation of Luke that says he was somehow trying to write legend is intellectually irresponsible.

But there is more, for Luke also states that he is writing this orderly account so that the reader “might know the certainty of the things [he] has been taught.” Thus, Luke has a pastoral objective as well. He is not writing history just for history’s sake. One must then interpret Luke as an attempt to write history which has great theological significance. Any interpretation of Luke that says he is too theological to be historical is suspect. To Luke, history and theology are not mutually exclusive. In fact, to Luke, history is theological. He tells us so straight up. When we read Luke, we must, thus, let Luke be Luke and not force him to fit our 21^st century biases and categories. If you read Luke as mythology or midrash, you miss Luke.

When reading the psalms, however, we might take a different approach. The psalms are a collection of songs, an ancient hymnbook so to speak. They are full of passion, struggle, faith, pain and praise, and they often use figurative language. So when the psalmist tells us, for example, that “God will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge” (Ps 91:4), he is not saying that God is some sort of giant bird. He is rather using poetic metaphor to illustrate a point about God’s character. This is poetry, not expository description, and we need to read it as such.

When it comes to epistles, we need to read them even differently. Though they are not historical narrative as the gospels are, they do have historical context, and they generally address specific issues. Those issues are doctrinal and practical. For example, Romans is a theological treatise on the gospel, while I Corinthians, deals with multiple issues that have come up in the Corinthian church. It’s not that Romans never talks about living life (it does) or that I Corinthians never gets theological (it does). Both letters marry theology and practice. Theology is always practical, and everyday life always involves theology. In the broadest sense, this is what the epistles are about. They are letters explaining how the Cross and Resurrection should affect our lives, and they apply the theology of the Cross and Resurrection to specific contexts. In this sense you might say they are like case law. If someone wrote to you today explaining some principle of Constitutional law and then illustrating that principle with specific cases, he would not be far amiss from what the epistles are doing. The content would be different obviously, but the idea is much the same. Therefore, when you read epistles, read them to learn God’s theology and to apply it. That’s the genre.

The Bible contains many more genres. Much of Exodus and Leviticus is legal code. Read it as such. The Proverbs, however, are not laws. Don’t read them as such. They are meant to give wise counsel for life, not precise legal requirements. And, of course, Revelation is its own animal. You can’t read about beasts and angels and trumpets and bowls and streets of gold and a river with fruit trees without seeing a great contrast and a great war between heaven and earth. Behind all the symbol, God judges this earth and delivers His people, and in the end they see His face. The main themes are obvious, but the details that the symbols represent … Well, shall we say that we must hold them loosely?

One more quick word. Sometimes a genre can exist within a genre. For example, the gospels are historical narrative, but within the gospels, Jesus tells parables. Now the parable is history in the sense that it is what Jesus said, but a parable itself is not necessarily history. It is a different literary genre. This means that when Jesus tells the parable of the ten virgins or the Prodigal Son, he is not likely describing some event that happened. This genre within a genre is quite frequent. Revelation contains epistles. Isaiah contains history, prophecy, and song all within the same book. The Psalms frequently refer to historical events.

But don’t let this fact discourage you. In most instances, the genre within the genre is clear. Common sense generally will show you what is going on.

Taken as literature, the Bible is a rich book full of many genres, and each genre needs to be read in a different way. But isn’t this common sense? You would do this with any other book wouldn’t you?

The words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life (Jn 6:63)

Open my heart, O Lord, to your Word, and open your Word to my heart.

Understanding the Bible is different from understanding other books. In the kingdom of God, great learning cannot substitute for spiritual readiness. You cannot study your way to God. The heart and spirit of a man most dictate his ability to understand Scripture. You must read the Bible with the same heart with which it was written. Otherwise, you miss it.

People read the Bible for different reasons. Some read to gain knowledge. Some read to argue. Some read to fulfill a requirement. Some read simply to say that they have read. None of these readers ever understands the book. They read for the wrong reasons and with the wrong spirit. They do not have God’s Spirit, for if they did, they would have a real hunger for God, and that hunger would drive their reading.

Those who decide what the Bible says before they read it never get far with it. They lack humility. And humility is a requirement for understanding the Bible. Humility opens the mind. “Open my heart to your Word, O Lord, and teach me more of You.” Thus is the humble prayer of an open heart before God, and that heart will learn the Bible.

The Bible is a simple book that a child can grasp. Yet it is a profound book full of mystery and complexity. The childlike heart best understands the Bible’s simple message. But the childlike heart also best grasps the mysteries and complexities. This is because the childlike heart is pure. Personal agendas do not cloud its vision. It longs to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen. Consequently, it sees much more clearly.

The words of the Bible are life. This means that the people who best understand the words are the people who obey them. The words must change your life. Until they do, you do not understand them. Obedience is the purpose of knowledge. If you write eloquently about Jesus, but your heart is full of pride, what good is that? If you know doctrine but constantly fight with your spouse, I wonder if you really understand what you say you know. “If you can fathom all mysteries and have all knowledge … but have not love,” you have missed the point (I Cor 13:2). You will never understand the Bible until you apply it. It must get inside you and change you. If it never does this, you do not understand what it says.

People who follow Jesus love the Bible. They want to read it and know it. They approach it with an open heart to hear what it has to say. They want to know it so they can know God. They want to apply it so they can live better. In light of this, my desire is to drive you to Scripture. Just read it. Read it simply. Read it humbly. Read it to know God. Read it to live right. Read it to get the plain sense of what it says. Don’t be fancy. You don’t need a Phd in Biblical studies to understand it. In fact, if you’ll just read it plainly, you’ll likely know it better than most Bible scholars. Many of them are so busy inventing new insights that they often miss the obvious facts smacking them in the face.

“The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and they are life,” (Jn 6:63)

God’s story came to earth twice. First it came through real events. Then it came through the pen.  Because the events cannot be repeated, God has granted future generations access to the story through the Bible. The Bible is the record of God’s story. Originally, the Bible was grounded in the story, but for us today you might say that the story is grounded in the Bible, for today, we cannot get at the story except through Scripture. Because the Scriptures give God’s message to the human race, our attitude toward them says much about our relationship with God. If I say I trust my wife but disbelieve half of what she says, who am I kidding? Yet some people do this very thing. They say they follow God, but they won’t believe what Scripture says.

Those who love God love the Bible. This love for Scripture is one of the most basic characteristics of a follower of Jesus. God’s people hunger for God’s truth. They desire His words more than their necessary food (Job 23:12), more than gold (Ps 19:10), and the Bible is sweeter to them than honey (Ps 19:10). They want to know God’s story and message. But they want more. They want God’s heart and Spirit and not just His words, and they understand that they cannot have a heart for God if they do not care about His words.

This fact should make us wary of those who say, “I would rather have Jesus than the Bible.” To some they sound noble, but if their attitude keeps them from knowing the Bible, then it also keeps them from knowing Jesus. The purpose of the Bible is to point to Jesus. It is our main source of information about Him. If you truly want Jesus, I’m afraid you shall have to travel the Bible to get Him. There is no other way.

Now the Bible is more than words. “The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and they are life,” Jesus said (Jn 6:63). Human intellect alone cannot understand the Spirit. “No one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God” (I Cor 2:11). Spiritual words must be understood through spiritual means. “The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot accept them, because they are spiritually discerned” (I Cor 2:14). The Holy Spirit is the key to understanding Scripture. Human intellect can grasp facts and doctrines, but without the Spirit, it can never grasp the significance of those doctrines.

It is like this. A woman browses at a garage sale. She comes to a table selling a mixture of items — knives, jewels, old trinkets. A coin catches her eye. She picks it up to look at it. On the front is a woman seated. A banner is in her left hand and a small shield in her right. The shield has the word “Liberty” written on it. Stars encircle the coin, and at the bottom the date reads 1870. On the back is an eagle with a striped shield on its chest and arrows in its talons. Above the eagle around the circumference are the words “United States of America.” Below the eagle is a small letter “s.” Below the letter are the words “One Dol.” The price on the coin reads $200. The woman puts the coin back on the table and moves on. She has read the coin, seen what it looks like and can describe it accurately. What she does not understand, however, is that the coin she held is worth nearly a million dollars. She knows certain facts about the coin, but she does not understand their significance. Consequently, she does not understand the coin.

Many people know the Bible as that woman knows the coin. They are ever seeing but never perceiving. Only the Holy Spirit can give understanding, for the words themselves are spirit.

“Daughter, your faith has made you well… (Mk 5:34)

… that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.  (Acts 26:18)

… we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ …  (Gal 2:16)

 If I go to Walmart to buy a shirt and slap down a twenty-dollar bill, the cashier will make change, hand me a receipt, and I will walk out with a shirt. I will have just traded a piece of paper for a shirt. We are so used to the concept of money that the transaction doesn’t seem strange at all. In terms of real value, however, the actual paper and ink that make up the twenty are probably worth a few pennies at most, and yet I just traded them for a fifteen-dollar shirt. The reason I can do this is that the power of a twenty does not lie in the paper and ink. It lies instead in the government that backs it.

Faith is something like this. God says that we can, so to speak, trade faith for forgiveness, faith for righteousness, faith for joy and peace. He says that if we will believe, He will change us and make us more loving and humble. We can trade something that is meager and weak on our own and receive in exchange the riches of God. We can give something the size of a mustard seed and receive for it a full tree with fruit that produces many more trees. Faith is our piece of paper that God backs, and the power of faith does not lie in faith itself but in the God who backs it.

Faith is the currency of heaven, and God has made it so because He is merciful. This emphasis on faith makes Christianity unique. You see, the reality is that almost every religion on earth makes your deeds the currency of heaven. In most religions you earn your way to heaven by being “good enough.” You deny yourself, you fast, you treat people kindly, you pray your prayers, you give to the poor, you perform some rituals, whatever. In the end, your works buy you heaven or nirvana or righteousness. Everything depends on how good you are.

The faith of Jesus, however, says that you are not good enough for God and that you’d better stop pretending you are. The faith of Jesus says that God’s standard for righteousness is much higher than what you can do. If God, thus, is to grant us joy and peace on the basis of our deeds, then you and I are in big trouble because the best of us, on our own, fall horribly short of God’s demands. In this sense, the faith of Jesus has a much higher view of God than all other religions. You and I can’t be good enough for Him. He is holy.

When God, however, says that He will count your faith in Christ as righteousness, He is being realistic. He is like a dad whose three-year-old daughter just broke a ten-thousand-dollar vase sitting on the mantel. He knows she cannot repay the debt by working, so he pays it and asks of her something more reasonable — to trust him and repent. He does this because He loves her. Her relationship with him is, thus, based more on her trust than on her ability to work her way into his favor.

Now if faith is the currency of heaven, then the object of faith is important. That twenty-dollar bill can’t look any way you want. It must be a genuine twenty minted by the backing authority. This is why faith cannot be in anything you wish. Faith must stand upon truth or it loses its authority. Thus, while faith does entail a childlike trust from the heart, it may never be divorced from reality. Faith makes truth statements, and those truth statements must reflect reality or faith is counterfeit. This gets at what the New Testament calls belief, and we’ll talk more about that in the next blog.

Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?  (Rom 2:4)

Lord, you desire repentance when I sin.  Grant me such a heart, and don’t let me excuse my sin or take advantage of your kindness.

I once worked as a substance abuse counselor for the Salvation Army, which provided drug and alcohol rehabilitation for the homeless. We gave homeless men a warm bed, three meals a day, and a job and required them to stay clean and attend counseling during their time in the program. I saw a lot of men come through, and for every man who legitimately wanted to change there were nine who wanted nothing more than a free bed and food.

Some would come into the program when the weather got cold and then leave in the spring. Some would hop from city to city — three months in San Antonio, two months in Austin, two months in New Orleans. Some would manage to get their hands on some crack or a six-pack while in the midst of the program. Of course, the Salvation Army was not blind to these facts, and we would occasionally kick a man out of the program or refuse readmittance to a repeat violator. Nonetheless, most of the men in the program knew how to play the game, and most took advantage of the system in one way or another. In essence, someone was willing to show these men some kindness, but most abused that kindness for their own ends.

We understand this. We see it all the time. We see it in the welfare system. We see it when children ask parents to cosign for a loan. We see it when nations play a game in order to get military help or financial aid. Abusing someone’s kindness is not restricted to the homeless. It’s a human thing. You’ve done it, and so have I.

But kindness always has a purpose. The Salvation Army did not show kindness to alcoholics so that they could turn around and keep drinking. Instead, the kindness was meant to help them change.

God’s kindness is this way too. His kindness is meant “to lead us to repentance” (Rom 2:4). We humans, however, have an uncanny ability to twist the kindness of God to our own ends. We abuse His grace. God shows us His grace because He knows it is the only way we can be free from the sin that binds us, but we turn it into an excuse for further sin. This is W.H. Auden saying, “I like committing crimes. God likes forgiving them. Really the world is admirably arranged.” This is Bonhoeffer’s “cheap grace.” This is the woman who gives herself license to sin because she is “not under law but under grace.” This is phony. Many who claim the name of Jesus have been phony for too long. They say they are His, but they won’t turn from their ways. They like the Jesus who is gentle and mild because they can have all the benefits of religion without any of the cost. They can eat up His kindness but never repent.

They may fool themselves, but they do not fool God. They show contempt for His kindness. They trample His grace under the feet of their desires. They are more interested in themselves than they are in the glory of God, and their religion is a game. They are taking advantage of the system, except, in the end, God will require of them an account for their duplicity.

Grace most benefits those whose hearts are genuine just as the warm bed and food most benefited those men who sincerely wanted to change. Grace is a marvelous thing. Without it we are “dead in our trespasses and sins” (Eph 2:1). It is our lifeline to God. But God does not lavish us with grace in order for us to continue to live as we please. God is after something real in our lives, something much grander than mere forgiveness. He wants to transform us.  If that is not what we want, then we should stop playing games and admit that we do not belong to God.  Better to be honest than to try and fool everyone and end up fooling ourselves.

For by grace you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.  (Eph 2:8-9)

For I know that nothing good dwells in me (Rm 7:18)

Lord, you are my redemption, my salvation, my hope.  If I lean on myself, I lean on nothing and fall, but if I come to you, I come to a Rock and to a King full of grace to the sinner.  Praise you.

God is a God of grace, and grace is for those who are weak.

A king once ruled a great land. One day the authorities brought to the king a man who had instigated a rebellion. The man confessed his crime and asked the king for mercy, which the king granted despite the fact that the criminal justly should have lost his head. This is grace.

The daughter of wealthy parents enjoyed a life with many pleasures: food, drink, family, and much more. Every good thing she had was something she did not earn or deserve. She had these things because her parents were immensely wealthy and because they loved her. This is grace.

A mother took care of her newborn son. She washed him, changed him, suckled him, dressed him, sang to him, rocked him, burped him, and protected him. She did these things for him because he was helpless to do them himself. This is grace.

All of these earthly examples mimic something of God’s grace. When God forgives sin, He does so because He is a gracious God. When He gives us air to breathe and rain for the crops, He does so because He is a gracious God. When He grants peace to the soul and gives power over a sinful habit, He does so because He is a gracious God. We must understand that God is radically committed to showing kindness to sinners.

But this kindness presupposes that we are actually sinners, and there lies the rub. The grace of God assumes human depravity, and human depravity requires grace if humans are to ever have any real joy. Depravity and grace fit together. Depravity is the diagnosis, grace the cure. And the thing of it is that the only people who ever fully embrace the cure are the ones who fully embrace the diagnosis. Ni To-sheng was right when he said that heaven is for sinners, and hell is for good people.

Morality is the enemy to the knowledge of God. Moral people have problems finding God. Only sinners truly find Him. This is because God operates on the principle of grace, and moral, respectable people have difficulty understanding grace. They miss God because of their “goodness.” Or to put it another way, they are too good for God.

This doctrine of God’s grace is one of the least understood and most abused teachings in the Bible. Some see it as scandalous. “You mean that a serial killer who humbly and truly repents will enter heaven while many of his victims may not?” Yes. That is the scandal of grace. Some reject it outright and say it is unjust. Some twist it to take advantage of it. But most people ignore it. They act as if their spiritual well being depended on their moral goodness. These people think themselves too good for grace, so they shall never experience it. Since they think themselves good enough for God, God shall leave them to their own devices. After all, if you’re good enough for God, you don’t much need His help, do you?

This doctrine of grace cuts against the grain of religion. In one sense, it is too easy. You mean all I have to do is say, “thank you”? In another sense, however, it is harder than religion, for it goes deeper. Grace cuts down pride. If God makes you clean, then you do not make yourself clean. If God provides for your needs, then you are dependent upon Him. If God redeems your soul, then He gives you your worth.

Grace means that you and I have nothing to bring to God except a broken soul. It means that all of our noble thoughts of ourselves are delusions. To embrace grace is to embrace a new way of thinking. The old heart that likes to praise itself must die. This is hard. And this is why religious people often rebel against grace.

Religious practices can be deceptive. Fiona may pray and fast and give to the poor, but she may also take pride in her praying, fasting, and giving to the poor. Many religious people use religion as a replacement for grace. They think they are OK because of what they do. They go to church every Sunday; they read their Bible and take communion; they are nice to their neighbor. They do not understand that their religion is not the cure they need. They do not need more good works. They need God.

This is the great problem. To accept grace requires humility, but most people lack humility. To accept grace requires honesty about our sin, but most people prefer to gloss over their sin.  And from heaven’s perspective, such an attitude is the scandal of morality.

But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.  (I Jn 2:1)

Lord, concerning the law, I am guilty as charged, yet I plead the blood of Christ and lean on your Son as my advocate, and through Him claim your mercy and forgiveness.  Hallelujah!

When a man breaks the law, he needs help, for he must stand before the judge, who will give sentence. When that time comes, the accused does not want to stand alone before the judge. Instead, he needs someone to represent him — someone who knows the law and the judge and who can be an advocate on his behalf. In the American justice system, that person would be a defense attorney.

Ancient Israel had something like this, although the system was different. When the Jewish people violated God’s law, the priest served as their representative before God. The priest was the intermediary between the people and their judge. The priest made atonement for sin on behalf of the people. He killed the bull or the goat or the lamb and poured out its blood. The purpose of this was to pay for the sin of the one who brought the animal. The lamb, and not the man, absorbed the wrath of God.

Obviously, the system of killing a lamb or a goat was symbolic, for the blood of goats and lambs cannot truly remove something so deep as sin. But this system was a symbol that God instituted and honored while it was in place. God wanted His people to see the plain connection between the shedding of blood and the cleansing from sin. The power of the sacrificial lamb lay not in the animal itself but in the ultimate sacrifice that it foreshadowed, for when the time was right, God sent His Son to shed His blood on the Cross. In doing so, Jesus was the great Lamb of God who took away the sins of the world by virtue of His blood. The blood of a lamb may have no real power in itself, but the blood of the eternal Son of God is another matter.

Thus, Jesus’ death was the atonement for sin on behalf of the people. He absorbed the wrath of God so that we would not. He is both the eternal sacrifice that atones for our sin and our intermediary before the Father. He is our great High Priest, the one who represents us before the throne of God above. And He is holy.

The follower of Jesus may stand before God with confidence because he is clean. The sin is gone. The follower of Jesus may stand before God with confidence because he is not alone, and his great defender is none other than the Son of God Himself. In this, Christianity differs significantly from other religions. For example, in Islam and nonChristian varieties of Judaism, all people will appear before the high and holy judge. But they will stand alone. The person in Christ, however, is never alone. We always have a holy and loving Advocate, who knows the Father intimately and intercedes on our behalf. This is reason for joy.  Hallelujah!