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“… 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!

For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it. (James 2:10)

Lord, I cannot keep the law.  I can’t.  On the outside I may look good, but I still violate your commands.  Have mercy on me.

Kendall was driving down Oak Street one afternoon when he saw flashing lights in his rear view mirror. He pulled over to let the police car pass, but the lights pulled behind him and parked.

“Oh great!” Kendall thought, and he began to wonder what he had done wrong. He knew he had not been speeding, and there had been no stop signs or lights to run.

The officer walked up to Kendall’s window and asked him, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“No sir,” Kendall said.

“You were going forty in a school zone. The speed limit back there is twenty between 2 and 3pm.”

“Officer, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m really a safe driver. I conscientiously try to keep all of the laws of the road. This is not normal for me.”

“I need to see your license and insurance.”

The policeman then took the documents and walked back to his car, where he stayed for about ten minutes. When he returned to Kendall’s window, he handed Kendall a speeding ticket for $250.

Now let’s assume Kendall was telling the truth when he said he was a safe driver who conscientiously tried to keep all the laws of the road. And let’s assume that the policeman found a squeaky clean driving record when he looked up Kendall’s name in his database.

Was the ticket just?

Of course, everyone knows that it was. We may debate whether the policeman should have shown Kendall some mercy, but we cannot legitimately argue that he was being unjust. Based on the law, Kendall fully deserved what he got. That is how law works. Law commands certain behaviors and stipulates punishments for violations of those behaviors. When we violate the law, we cannot say, “Most of the time I keep it,” for punishments do not deal with those times we keep it but with that one time we violated it. My good driving on Tuesday will not get me out of the ticket I received on Friday.

This phenomenon is true of perhaps every law that has ever been. When people murder, it is generally a rare behavior for them. They cannot defend their murder by saying “for 60 years I never killed anyone.” The question at hand is not “How did you behave the past 60 years?” The question is “How did you behave on the night of July 19^th, 2014?” That is how law works.

So why am I saying all this about law? I am saying it because God has made laws, and when we violate God’s laws, most of us still consider ourselves pretty good folks who generally keep God’s laws. Do we keep all of God’s laws all of the time? If we’re honest, we have to say “No,” but we don’t consider that fact to be so bad because we think we usually try to follow God’s law. In this respect, we are Kendall. And after all, God wouldn’t punish us for violating his law only once when we actually keep it 1,000 other times, would he? This is how many people think.

The problem is that such thinking does not reflect how law actually works, and we all know it. If we obey a law 1,000 times and disobey it the 1,001^st, we are subject to its punishment. And if we obey 1,000 different laws but disobey the 1001^st, we are subject to its punishment. This is justice, it is normal, and we all know it. But somehow we don’t think this way when we deal with God’s laws.

My point is this. We all have a just punishment that is due us for violating God’s laws. God said, “Do not lie,” but we have lied. God said, “Do not commit adultery” and then said that lust is nothing more than adultery in the heart. But we have lusted. God said, “Do not covet your neighbor’s things,” but we have coveted our neighbor’s things. At different times each one of us has been greedy or selfish. We have treated something that is not God as if it were. We have said cruel things to others or have failed to speak when we should have stood for what is right. All these actions, thoughts, or attitudes are violations of God’s law. Now we may not have done all of these things all of the time, but we need only to have done one of these things once to incur the just punishment of the law. That is how law works. The truth of the matter, however, is that we have likely violated all of these laws (and more) many times. In other words, we are repeat offenders.

Therefore, based on the law, you and I deserve the full consequences for violating God’s law. Those consequences are more serious than we think. We are not violating the commands of a human government but the words of a holy God. These laws have eternal consequences because they deal with an eternal kingdom. The moral laws of God stipulate the behavior and character God expects for the kingdom of God. To violate these laws is to disqualify ourselves from the kingdom of God. When we lie, lust or covet possessions or power, when we manipulate to get our way, we bring upon our souls a deep stain that cannot live where holiness dwells. God says that our sins have separated us from Him (Is 59:2). Sin and holiness do not belong together. Thus, the normal consequence of violating God’s law is eternity without God. The very purpose for which we were made is gone. We are without hope and without God in this world. Those consequences are completely just, for we have broken God’s law, and that is how law works.   All of us shall stand before the Great Judge and be tried for our deeds, for our thoughts, and for the attitudes of our hearts. And the one thing we can never, ever say is, “I’m usually a pretty good person.” That will get us nowhere.

… to the purified, you show yourself pure, but to the crooked you make yourself seem tortuous.  (Ps 18:26)

This blog is a continuation of last week’s introduction to the doctrine of depravity.

To some people, the Christian doctrine of depravity smells rotten. They want God to be good and loving, and they think God must be a tyrant if He condemns people for sin they cannot escape. To them God loses the right to judge if people are born sinful. It makes no sense to them for us to be objects of God’s wrath by nature (Eph 2:3). If we naturally sin, then why blame us for being what we naturally are?

Do I wrestle with this question? Yes. And yet no. I mean … I don’t pretend to fully understand it, but some things I do understand, and I’m OK saying, “I know this much, but I don’t know everything.” Science takes this approach all the time. The raw data in science is almost always messy. Research may yield a block of data that seems to fit well together, but then there is this other data, and the scientist says, “Well. . .What do we do with that?” The good scientists do not kick out data because they have difficulty putting it together. They have to work with reality and not with the scenario they would like to have. They cannot change the data to make it easy to deal with, and neither can I change depravity to make things easy to understand.

For me, my own heart is part of the raw data. When I am honest with myself, I have to admit that my heart is sinful. I see in myself a heart focused on me. I don’t like it, but there it is. My own depravity is as obvious to me as the law of gravity. I look at history, and I see an unmitigated stream of greed, cruelty and brutality. I look at my own culture, and I see the glorification of self-centered indulgence. I see depravity in my wife, in my friends, in my parents, in my children, in my neighbors and in my church. I see it in my government, in Hollywood, in the music industry, in corporate America, in the education system, and in the military.  I then look in the Scriptures, and I see it there, too. Everywhere I look, I see my own heart confirmed. Any attempt to deny depravity comes across to me as somewhat naïve. Depravity is not a quaint theory that needs to be proven. It is an obvious fact that I must build around. I believe in depravity because I have eyes.

Now if I have any sense of justice, I must conclude that God punishes sin. People cannot do as they please and enjoy impunity, even if what they please comes quite naturally.

Some time ago, we came home to find trash scattered all over our living room and kitchen. Our dog Gage had gotten into the trashcan and had himself a little field day. When I saw what he had done, I stuck his nose in the trashcan, smacked him on the nose and said harshly, “No!” Obviously, I was trying to train him. Let’s suppose, however, that Gage does not heed my training. Let’s say that he gets into the trash constantly, chews up our couch pillows and uses the carpet for his personal toilet. Let’s say we let him outside and he keeps barking at night, and then a neighbor stops by and he bites the neighbor. Let’s say we keep training him, but he persists in his ways. If we then get rid of him, no one will question our justice. We are not being cruel. We are being realistic.

Something like this is going on between God and us. Sin and holiness do not mix. We have much less right to dwell with God than Gage has to dwell in my home. We may be wired to sin just as Gage may be wired to bark at the opossums at night. The fact that our behavior is natural does not mean we have a right to dwell with God. This is not cruel or unjust. It is simply realistic. We behave like humans; dogs behave like dogs.  In both cases, the behavior is in our nature.

The natural question then seems to be why God would create such a system as this. Why make humans in such a way that they sin by nature and then punish them for that sin? In the beginning, of course, that is not what God did. He created a sinless world with sinless people and gave them a choice. They chose to sin, and once sin entered the equation, God was no longer starting from scratch. Instead, He was dealing with the realities on the ground. The system we have is a corruption of the system God made, and God did not do the corrupting. We did. Nonetheless, after we freely chose to sin, God allowed that sin to make its home in us. He was not being unjust, for sin was the very thing we chose. God simply tied us to our choice a little more deeply than we might like. He was not being unjust. He was giving us what we chose.

But I believe that God’s allowing our sin to rest in our hearts has another purpose as well. Scripture is quite clear about a principle of judgment. To whom much is given, much shall be expected (Lk 12:48). Jesus said that the wicked cities of Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom would be better off in the judgment than the Jewish towns of Chorazin and Capernaum (Mt 11: 20-24). All of these cities rejected God, but Chorazin and Capernaum were given so much more, and they shall be held accountable for what they saw.

This seems to indicate that the judgment contains degrees of severity, and that the severity of judgment we receive depends on what we do with the knowledge and abilities we have. Dante’s levels of hell are not in the Bible, but the idea that inspired them is.

The less ability we humans have, the more mercy God can justly show us when we fall. Hell will be an awful place for all who dwell there, but it will be more awful for some than for others. The more we are given, the more severe our judgment will be when we fall. That is why Dante has popes in his deepest levels of hell.

God’s mercy exists even in His judgment. Many people will certainly experience the reality of hell, but the hell they will experience is nothing compared to what it would be if they were more “noble.” The people who want the human race to be “good” do not know what they are asking for. What they are asking for is a more severe judgment when they sin. And they would certainly sin. God already had made an innocent couple and placed them in a sinless environment, and that couple had rebelled. What makes us think that we would have improved upon that example now that our environment is tainted and our parents are sinful?  In the end, our spiritual weakness is to our advantage.

The irony of this is that the very principle people appeal to in order to criticize depravity —  God should show more mercy to the helpless — is the very principle God uses by allowing depravity to overtake us. It’s just that the situation looks different from another angle. It’s as if the critic has wielded a board to beat God with, but God has snatched the board and used it to build a house.

This has been brief. I am not giving a philosophical treatise, nor am I trying to answer every question. I don’t believe I can. I know that I have raised new questions in your mind, and I’ve not answered them. That’s OK. What I am trying to do is show that there is more than one way to think through these issues, and that the reality is more complex than we sometimes wish to admit.

Ultimately, however, the issue of depravity is not a philosophical question but a personal one. You are either naturally drawn to sin or you are not. You either naturally exhibit sinful attitudes or you do not. If you look at your own heart and find that it is often drawn to sin, any debate about depravity comes across as rather shallow.   If you truly see such a heart in yourself, then the real question is not “Am I a helpless sinner?” That is obvious. The real question is “What can be done about it?”

If, however, you look at yourself and you find no sin, then Jesus has nothing to offer you. You can stop reading these blogs. Nothing else I say will make any sense. Jesus came for the sick, not for those who think they are well.