Mark 14:12-26 – Sharing the Cup of Suffering

July 5, 2012

Just as there were two movements in Mark 14:1-11, a conspiracy to kill and a mealtime anointing in preparation for death, so there are two movements in Mark 14:12-26. The first recognizes the conspiracy along with the subsequent faithlessness of the disciples and the second describes another meal that carries the significance of Jesus’ death.

Though Mark 14:12-16, the preparation for the Passover meal, is often barely mentioned, it is significant as a “set-up” for what follows. On the one hand it links us to the conspiratorial atmosphere of the text and on the other hand it provides an explicit context for the meal itself. The conspiratorial dimension is often overlooked. A few disciples are sent into the city ahead of Jesus to prepare the Passover meal. Jesus himself does not enter the city till nightfall. In effect, Jesus avoids the crowds and the authorities. It is possible, as Myers (Binding the Strong Man, 360-361) suggests, that the signal (a man carrying water!) and pre-arranged space are part of a counter-conspiracy to protect Jesus while in the city for the Passover. In any event, the preparation is covert rather than pubic.

The procedure Jesus utilizes reminds readers of Jesus’ triumphal entry into the city where he sent disciples ahead to secure a donkey (Mark 11:2-6). The contrast between Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Sunday and his entry on this Thursday evening is startling. In the first he is publicly hailed as a Messianic figure but now he sneaks into Jerusalem under cover of darkness. Mark’s emphasis on the arranging of the events in both chapter eleven and here underscore how he uses the two events to provide a context for understanding the words and actions of Jesus. Jesus entered the Temple as a messianic royal figure in chapter eleven but here enters Jerusalem under the threat of death as the suffering servant of Isaiah.

Further, the text identifies this meal with the Passover. We are to read the actions and words of Jesus through the lens of Passover theology. What he does and says at this meal has Passover meaning. Whatever problems and difficulties this entails in terms of comparison with other Gospels or chronology need not detain us here as we read the Gospel of Mark. Our author wants us to read this narrative against the backdrop of the Passover. This provides a hermeneutical frame for understanding the meaning of Jesus’ death.

The meal itself is described in two phrases. First, Jesus reveals his awareness of the conspiracy to kill him. Second, Jesus interprets his death. The former acknowledges the breakdown of community among his disciples which will further reveal itself when they all scatter in the wake of Jesus’ arrest, but the latter—through the solidarity of eating the bread and drinking the cup—invites the disciples to participate in his ministry, suffering and death. The latter starkly contrasts with the former.

First, Jesus acknowledges that one of his disciples will betray him to the authorities. This is an astounding announcement in the midst of a Passover meal which is designed as the fellowship of a family or intimate group. The community that Jesus has formed during his ministry with the Twelve is now breaking down and it will disintegrate before the night is over. The very meaning of the Passover meal is subverted by the betrayer. The fellowship of the meal (eating together) is colored by the darkness of betrayal.

Probably nothing could have stunned the disciples more than this news. They are first saddened and then introspective (“Is it I?”). The term that describes their grief is the same that characterizes the emotion of the Rich Young Ruler who walked away from Jesus’ invitation to follow him (cf. Mark 10:22). The disciples are disappointed, and this turns them even more inward. They begin to question their own allegiance. Perhaps they don’t even know themselves or perhaps they have done or said something that inadvertently betrayed Jesus.

As the disciples look within themselves, Jesus offers a theological interpretation of the betrayal. He alludes to Psalm 41 where the Psalmist laments that not only his “enemies whisper” against him and “imagine the worst” for him (like the Temple authorities), but that even his “close friend” whom he “trusted” and who “shared [his] bread” has also “lifted up his heel against” him. With the language of “dips the bread into the bowl with me,” Jesus is not so much identifying the betrayer as he is identifying with the Psalmist. This should have alerted the disciples to the danger of this night. The Son of Man must suffer, as Jesus as told his disciples on previous occasions (cf. Mark 10:32-45).

The word against the betrayer, “it would be better for him if he had not been born,” is not so much a condemnation or judgment as much as it is a recognition that the betrayer will wish that he had never been born. Job and Jeremiah, in quite different circumstances, felt that way. But the difference between Job and Judas was while the one endured through faith the other ended his life. This horror, however, will not only encompass Judas but the other disciples as well (e.g., Peter will deny Jesus). All the disciples will become complicit through their desertion of Jesus.

In the second phase of the meal in Mark’s story, Jesus interprets the significance of the meal that evening. Mark nowhere describes the meal but assumes it. We get no details about the length of the meal, the food at the meal or conversation surrounding the meal. In fact, Mark provides the briefest account in the Gospels. It is short, but on point. Still, the Passover contextualizes this brief interpretation and should not be read without that referential frame in mind. At the same, Mark does not highlight any memoralistic understanding of the meal (he does not say, “remember me”). Mark has another emphasis.

“While they were eating,” Mark says, Jesus (1) took bread, (2) gave thanks, (3) broke it, and (4) gave it the disciples (and a similar structure for the cup). This deliberate construction—which is repeated in other accounts—is important. It is a deliberate, interpretative act on the part of Jesus. It conforms to the breaking of the bread in a Passover mea (though here it does not begin the meal) but it is given a radically different meaning. The four-fold structure highlights a ritual which carries the meaning of the eating itself. This bread is a gift from God that is distributed to the disciples.

“This is my body” is an interpretation of the meal. It gives new meaning to the Passover without subverting its previous meaning. It is a fulfillment of the Passover. Just as the bread of the Passover represented life and liberation, so the body of Jesus gives life and liberation. Bread is what nourishes life, and the body of Christ nourishes believers. Bread is life, and it is shared life. This is a communal experience of life that is grounded in the gift of Christ’s body. In effect Jesus says “my body” will give new life to this community.

“This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” is an allusion to the sacrificial system of Israel and the Passover context gives specific meaning to this allusion. The blood of the Lamb—as blood in the Levitical system itself—gives life. Jesus is the Passover lamb whose blood has covenantal significance. This blood is covenantal blood; it enacts covenant (or, in Hebrew, it “cuts covenant”).

Jesus’ statement is itself an allusion to at least three texts in the Hebrew Scriptures. The “blood of the covenant” takes Jewish readers back to Exodus 24 when God inaugurated his covenant with Israel at Mt. Sinai (Exodus 24:8). More significantly, it raises the horizon of Zechariah 9:9-11. Earlier Mark had alluded to Zechariah 9:9 as he described the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, and Mark builds on that allusion by aligning Zechariah 9:11 with the story of Jesus as well. Covenantal blood frees prisoners; it is liberation. The King who rides into Jerusalem on a donkey is a liberator who “proclaim[s] peace to the nations.” But this king, in the Gospel of Mark, rides to his death rather than a military action. Jesus liberates the oppressed through suffering rather than through the pursuit of violence.

The blood of Jesus is poured out to free the prisoners; it is “poured out for many.” In that phrase we encounter our third Hebrew textual allusion. Isaiah 53:12 identifies the Suffering Servant as one who “poured out his life unto death” and “bore the sin of many.” Jesus will give life through suffering and deal with sin through dying. Jesus identifies himself with the Suffering Servant of Isaiah–he suffers that Israel might go free.

The Passover meal is given a new horizon of meaning. This does not subvert its original meaning. Rather, the original meaning is taken to a new height. The Passover lamb died to liberate the firstborn from death and bring Israel out of Egyptian bondage. Jesus is the new lamb; he is the true lamb of God. Through his death, he gives new life (body) and frees us from sin (blood). The original meaning of the Passover remains but it is transformed by the new reality that dawns in the death (and resurrection) of Jesus.

The communal dimension of the Passover is likewise carried forward. They probably sang the Passover Psalms at this meal (Psalms 113-118; Mark 14:26). When Jesus takes the cup, he shares it with his disciples. They drink from the same cup. It is the cup of suffering (cf. Mark 10:39-40; 14:36). They drank it that day in solidarity with Jesus as people committed to the way of suffering even though they would shortly falter in that commitment. The cup that Jesus drank, they drank. But they will not follow Jesus to the cross.

When we eat and drink at the table of the Lord, it is the gift of life and forgiveness. It is a table of mercy. But it is also a table of commitment. As we drink the cup, we commit ourselves to the way of the cross, the way of suffering for the sake of the world. As we eat bread and drink the cup, we share a communal life that is shaped by the ministry of Jesus. This calls us to a different kind of life—one that pursues peace and reconciliation rather than violence. When we eat and drink together, we recommit ourselves to that way of life.

The table bears witness to that new life which is the reality of the kingdom of God. The reference to the kingdom in Mark 14:25 is not primarily about a messianic banquet in the new heaven and new earth but is rather about the in-breaking of the kingdom of God into the present. Jesus in the Gospel of Mark is the reality of the kingdom in the world, so the bread and wine are now the reality of the kingdom. In this new reality—the kingdom of God—Jesus eats and drinks with us. We eat and drink with the living Christ whose death has transformed life.

We eat and drink, however, as flawed disciples—just like the disciples gathered around that Thursday evening table in the upper room of Jerusalem. We falter and fail, but the table renews our life and at the table we renew our commitment.


Zechariah 13:7-9 – Strike the Shepherd!

May 2, 2012

This poem climaxes the message of Zechariah 12:2-13:6. The voice of God announces judgment and mercy; Yahweh speaks into the situation. The shepherd and people of Israel, Yahweh says, will experience judgment but a remnant will emerge from the refining fire.

Zechariah 9-14 has already used shepherd imagery. Israel’s shepherds (leaders) have led their people into idolatry (Zechariah 10:1-3) and merchandized their flock for their own self-interest (Zechariah 11:4-6). Israel rejected a good shepherd who resigned (Zechariah 11:7-16). Israel’s shepherd is “worthless” and the prophet pronounced a poetic woe against him: “May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!” (Zechariah 11:17).

Just as the second half of the first oracle ended with a woe against the “worthless shepherd,” so the first half of the second oracle ends with a poetic woe against “my shepherd.” God commands the “sword,” also invoked in the first poem (Zechariah 11:17), to (1) awake and (2) strike the shepherd. Clearly, this is a violent act (cf. 2 Samuel 23:18; Isaiah 123:17; Jeremiah 50:9). This appears as an act of judgment parallel to the judgment of the “worthless shepherd” earlier.

However, this shepherd is closely associated with Yahweh who calls him “my shepherd…who is close to me.” The language of “close” is only used elsewhere in Leviticus and designates a neighbor or fellow-Israelite (cf. Leviticus 6:2; 25:14, 15). Given the emphasis to the house of David in Zechariah 12 and the leadership issues present throughout Zechariah 9-14, this probably refers to Yahweh’s chosen servant from the house of David. Yahweh has a covenantal relationship with this shepherd and, therefore, is “close.”

Yet, this shepherd is struck with the sword and his flock is scattered. It seems most appropriate, in the context of Zechariah 9-14, to read this “striking” as judgment and thus this shepherd is identified with the “worthless” shepherd in Zechariah 11:17. The judgment includes the people as well since they are scattered and the “little ones” experience the “hand” of God (cf. Amos 1:8; Isaiah 1:25). The scattering, as sheep do without a leader, is an obvious metaphor for the exile (cf. Ezekiel 34:5, 6, 12, 21).

The result of this judgment is that two-thirds of Israel will be “cut off” (“cut down” or perish) and die. Just as God “cut off” the idols in Zechariah 13:2, so God will “cut off” the majority of Israel in judgment. But one-third will remain in the land, that is, they will live.

There will be a remnant. God will not utterly destroy Israel; she shall live and not die. God will refine and test the remnant (cf. Psalm 17:3; 66:10; Jeremiah 9:7). This process will purify Israel and through it they will again learn to “call” on the name of God. In other words, the covenant between Yahweh and Israel is renewed. God again claims Israel: “They are my people.” And Israel will again confess, “Yahweh is our God.” This is the grand covenantal theme of the Hebrew Scriptures (cf. Jeremiah 24:7; 31:33; Ezekiel 37:23, 27; Hosea 2:23; Zechariah 8:8). It is a theme that finds its ultimate fulfillment in the eschatological reality of the new heaven and new earth (Revelation 21:1-5).

Contextually, the shepherd is judged, but early Christians read this text in the light of Jesus. Both Matthew (26:31-32) and Mark (14:27-28) place Zechariah 13:7b on the lips of Jesus who reads it through his own context. “Striking the shepherd” refers to the cross while the “scattering” refers to the response of the disciples to his suffering. The disciples will “fall away” because Jesus is arrested and goes to the cross. The synoptic writers, especially Matthew, envision a mini-exile as the disciples scattered but then gathered again in Galilee as the beginning of new community (a renewed Israel).

It appears that Jesus recognizes that the situation in Zechariah parallels his in some way. Both shepherds are killed and their flocks are scattered. But is there more than a mere parallel? Does Jesus function as this shepherd in some sense? That is, does Jesus suffer the judgment of Israel in his own person much like the suffering servant of Isaiah 53? Yahweh strikes his own shepherd but does so for the sake of Israel’s renewal and, ultimately, for the nations.

Jesus goes to the cross as a criminal. He is (unjustly) convicted of treason. He is crucified with insurrectionists. As Isaiah 53:12 announces which is quoted in Luke 22:37, he is “numbered among the transgressors.” He suffers with Israel and for Israel. He is the suffering servant who bears the judgment of Israel for the sake of redemption.

Yahweh strikes his own shepherd for the sake of the sheep.


Zechariah 3:1-10 — A Vision of a New Day in the Temple Courts

February 2, 2012

Zechariah’s fourth vision takes him into the heavenly council which mirrors the reality of the holy courts of the temple where priests officiate before the Lord (similar to Isaiah 6:1-3). The earthly temple is the meeting place of the heavenly council. The temple is one place where heaven and earth overlap.

Zechariah sees three persons: Joshua who is the high priest, the satan, and the angel of Yahweh. Others “standing before” the angel of Yahweh are present to carry out the wishes of Yahweh’s angel. The scene parallels Job 1 where the heavenly council (“sons of God”) weighs Job’s faith. Here the question is what to do with Israel’s sin, Joshua’s filthy clothes.

The angel of Yahweh and the satan oppose each other. In a way this is surprising. Yahweh had judged Judah for its sin (Zechariah 1:4-6). The satan, the accuser (which is the meaning of the Hebrew term), is correct. Joshua’s clothes are dirty; Judah has sinned. The temple was destroyed. The satan appears as an angelic prosecutor—he stands at Joshua’s right side to accuse as if in a legal proceeding (cf. Psalm 109:6). The accuser tells the truth about Judah’s sin.

But the angel of Yahweh opposes the accuser. Yes, Joshua is dirty; Yahweh passed judgment. But the satan is not telling the whole truth because Yahweh delights in Jerusalem. Yahweh loves Israel. The satan is rebuked….twice. The repetition is emphatic. Yahweh will not reject Israel; Jerusalem is chosen. When God elects, no one can dispute. It is God who justifies (cf. Romans 8:31-33).

This election is not temporary. God has chosen; the accuser backs down. Grace and mercy triumph over sin. Judah is a “stick plucked from the fire” (cf. Amos 4:11). God has redeemed Jerusalem once again and yet the question (as in Amos) remains—will they return to Yahweh (Zechariah 1:3)?

Though Joshua stands before the angel of Yahweh in dirty clothes, Yahweh chooses him and changes his clothes. The others who stand before God in the heavenly council are ordered to remove the filthy clothes and put “rich garments” on him. The new clothing is a white, costly, festive garment. This is both forgiveness and investment. It is cleansing and adornment. Joshua is reinvested with priesthood and now not only officiates before the Lord and celebrates the relationship between God and the people of Israel.

This priestly investment, however, is not simply about Joshua’s priesthood. It is also about Israel’s role in the world. Israel was called as a priestly nation who would mediate the presence of God to the nations. Israel is a priest for the world so that the nations might be blessed. The nations will become the people of God because Israel is their priest (Zechariah 2:11). Indeed, humans were invested with a priestly function in creation as we represent God in the creation and serve in the temple which God created. Humanity will again become priests serving before God in the temple that is the new heaven and new earth.

Zechariah, excited by what he was seeing, interrupts the scene with a further appeal to honor Joshua. Don’t forget the “turban,” Zechariah excitedly contributes. What is the “turban”? Many think it refers to the headgear of the high priest (Exodus 28:4). But this is not the same Hebrew word. Rather, this word, derived from a verb meaning “to wrap around,” describes the dress of wealthy or prominent people (Isaiah 3:23; 62:3; Job 29:14). It is a sign of favor. It is a further grace that God gives Israel. God has fully clothed Joshua; Yahweh honors his people as the “apple of his eye” (Zechariah 2:8).

Having invested and honored Joshua, the angel of Yahweh now addresses him along with the other priests (and by extension Israel itself). It is, in effect, the message of Zechariah: “return to me.” Joshua, and Israel, must “walk in [Yahweh’s] ways and keep [Yahweh’s] commandments.” Joshua is charged with governing the house of God but only as long as he reflects the glory of God’s presence in that temple. Joshua is called to image God and practice the holiness of God as God’s holy priest. What Adam failed to do, what Joshua’s forefathers failed to do, Joshua is now called to do. Alas, ultimately, he will fail as well. What is a nation to do? What is humanity to do?

The hope of Israel is not Joshua; he is only a sign, a token or, theologically, a type of things to come. Rather, the hope of Israel is Yahweh’s “servant, the Branch.” The oracle of hope following the vision report focuses on the future reality that the “Branch” will realize. The Hebrew “Joshua” appears as “Jesus” in New Testament Greek.

The oracle combines two Messianic traditions in earlier prophets. Isaiah’s obedient but suffering servant (Isaiah 42:1; 49:3; 52:13-53:12) is combined with Jeremiah’s royal, Davidic Branch (Jeremiah 23:5; 33:15; cf. Isaiah 4:2-5; 11:1). This priestly servant is also invested with royal authority. This coming one—anointed as both priest and king—will inaugurate a new day. That day will be both a day of atonement when Yahweh “will remove the sin of this land in one day” but also on that day everyone “will invite his neighbor to sit under his vine and fig tree.”

The oracle assures Joshua and his priests that the future is hopeful by drawing attention to the inscribed “stone” with “seven eyes” set in front of them. The meaning of this stone is the subject of varied interpretations. Some identify it with the engraved stones of the high priest’s clothing (Exodus 28:9-12) while others identify it as one of the stones for temple-building and the “eyes” are interpreted as divine omniscience. But a more recent suggestion is that the term for “eyes” is better translated “springs” and it refers to seven fountains of water that flow from the stone. Seven fountains would be sufficient as the number is a complete one.

The stone, then, is a Messianic type for cleansing and refreshing water that renews the land or causes the Branch to shoot up out of the ground. Water flows from Eden out to the world in Genesis 2:10 and the fountain of the new temple of Ezekiel 47:1 rises from below the Holy of Holies.

Whatever the case may be the stone represents renewal for Israel and ultimately for the earth. The inscription might very well anticipate the ending of Zechariah when everything upon the earth—even the bells of horses and cooking utensils—are inscribed “Holy to the Lord” just like the headgear of the high priest of Israel (Zechariah 14:20).

The future vision is the removal of sin from the land, from the earth. A day is coming when all the brokenness of the earth will be removed; there will be no more curse and the land will become new (cf. Revelation 21:1-4; 22:1-5). The fruit of the land will mean healing for the nations. Neighbor will invite neighbor—in a reconciled community—to share the joy of the redeemed land. Everyone will have their vine and fig tree which is but a metaphor for a secure, peaceful and fulfilling life (cf. Micah 4:4). That day the nations will live in peace with each other, seek guidance from Yahweh and be called the people of God along with Israel.

On that day nations will, according to Isaiah (2:1-4) and Micah (4:1-5), beat their swords into plowshares and “learn war no more.” May God speed the coming of that day and may the disciples of Jesus, the Branch, embrace that message and lifestyle even now.


Jesus of Nazareth: The Mission of God (SBD 10)

May 21, 2009

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

Jesus accomplishes the divine mission to make all things new by reversing the curse.

Atonement, the at-one-ment, identifies God’s reconciling act that restores shalom between God and humanity. While there are many theories of atonement in the history of theology, what follows is my four-fold classification that is partly based on a chart by Gabriel Fackre in his The Christian Story (1:133). These categories have the potential to see the whole of God’s atoning work rather than narrowly focusing on a specific dimension of that work.

Ultimately, however, the mystery of the atonement lies beyond the images and metaphors Scripture offers. The mysterious reality which lies behind the fact that “God was in Christ reconciling the world” (2 Corinthians 5:18) is beyond our finite minds. Theology, especially in this case, is ultimately doxological and the mystery generates wonder and awe for those who believe.

The Incarnation: Union of Divine and Human

While in the West with few exceptions theologians have focused on the death of Christ, the Eastern churches have stressed the incarnation as an atoning work without neglecting the passion and resurrection of Jesus. The significance of the incarnation for atonement is the union of God and humanity through the incarnation. By this act God reclaims the creation as something good and worth redeeming. God enfleshed testifies to the goodness of the flesh and that it is no barrier to God’s communion with humanity. This is one reason the Feast of Transfiguration is so significant in the East compared to the West.

Human beings, united to God through the incarnation, experience immortality and life in the resurrected and glorious (transfigured) body of Jesus. Materiality does not hinder the experience of life, even eternal life. Humans were designed—even in their materiality—for life with God. They were designed for theosis—a participation in divine communion within and despite their finitude.

The incarnation of Jesus means that God has recapitulated all of human life through the human life of Jesus from birth to death. God has renewed every aspect of human development and graced it with divine presence. Every aspect of human life has been made new again. The incarnation brings life as the eternal life of God has entered human history to enliven everyone. Life has begun again and this life has been united with the Eternal Life.

The Ministry: The Kingdom of God

The mission of Jesus is clearly articulated in Luke 4:18-19. His messianic mission is to bring “good news” (gospel) to the poor, prisoners, blind, and oppressed. It is not merely a message, but actions. God in Jesus acts to redeem. It is divine grace.

It is Jubilee! What Jubilee should have meant to Israel throughout its history breaks into the world through the ministry of Jesus. Jubilee–released prisoners, good news for the poor (e.g., debt release)–has arrived with the presence of the kingdom in the person of Jesus.

At the “big picture” level, this is the reversal of the “curse” (Revelation 21:5; the brokeness of the world). All that the curse means in the broken creation is reversed in the ministry of Jesus. It is his mission; it is why he was sent. It is what he preaches and what he does.

Luke 4:40-43 along with 4:18-19 are programmatic in Luke’s Gospel. It is the mission of Jesus to practice the kingdom of God. He heals the sick and declares the presence of the kingdom of God in the world. His ministry is the “good news of the kingdom of God,” that is, that the kingdom of God has come near and when the kingdom comes near the brokenness of the world is healed. The curse is reversed.

The “kingdom” here is not the structures and organization of an institutionalized church. Rather, the kingdom is the reign of God in the world; when God reigns the curse is overcome, when God reigns barriers are destroyed, when God reigns diseases are healed, demons bound and death destroyed, when God reigns people groups are reconciled, when God reigns the poor and oppressed get justice.

The ministry of Jesus is a proleptic enactment of the eschaton. In other words, the new heaven and new earth (where there is no curse) has broken into the fallen cosmos in a way that declares and promises the future. The ministry of Jesus is the presence of the future; the future breaks into the present as Jesus proclaims the good news of the kingdom and heals the sick. The ministry of Jesus is God’s promise of a different kind of world, a future world where there is no more curse.

The “good news” (gospel) of the “kingdom of God” is not, at this point in the ministry of Jesus, the death and resurrection of Jesus. In fact, the death and resurrection of Jesus is the means toward the end of the reality of the kingdom of God. That reality is “good news.” That God intends to redeem, renew, and restore the creation and community is good news. God inaugurates, implements and consumates the kingdom in the world through the incarnation, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus.

The Gospel of Luke calls disciples of Jesus to participate in the mission of Jesus (Luke 10:9, 18, 23b). Just as Jesus declared the message that the “kingdom of God is near” (which is the “good news of the kingdom”) and healed the sick (reversing the curse), his disciples follow him into the world to announce the nearness of the kingdom and to participate in curse reversal. Disciples proclaim the good news of the kingdom and heal the sick.

Healing the sick is but one instance of the presence of the kingdom. Doctors, nurses and medical professions are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they “heal the sick.” Environmental scientists are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they protect and preserve the environment. Educators are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they dispel ignorance and equip students for responsible living within the world. Social works are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they work for social justice among the oppressed and neglected.

At bottom, disciples continue the ministry of Jesus. As instruments of the kingdom, they are a means by which God reigns in the world for peace, healing and reconciliation. Disciples participate in the mission of Jesus to reverse the curse as the kingdom of God grows and fills the earth.

The Death of Christ: Died For Our Sin

Christ died “for our sins” (Galatians 1:4) and Christ died “for us” (Romans 5:8; 2 Corinthians 5:15; Galatians 2:20; 3:13). The mystery of the atoning function of Christ’s death lies behind these two sentences. Four points, to my mind, may summarize the meaning of this confession.

First, God removed sin from people through Jesus Christ. The death of Jesus expiated sin. Sin is no longer a barrier between God and humanity. Having removed sin, God created a holy place in our hearts for the indwelling Spirit (Ephesians 2:18-22).

How did the death of Christ remove sin? Paul uses several metaphors. One is a commercial. God canceled the debt of sin. God nailed the debt to the cross. God canceled our certificate of indebtedness at the cross (Colossians 2:14-15). Another metaphor is legal. God no longer charges us with sin. The indictment has been revoked and we acquitted. God reconciles the world by not counting sin against us (2 Corinthians 5:19).

Yet, how can God declare the guilty “not guilty”? We need to say more.

Second, God identified with sinners in Jesus Christ.
God came near, joined us in our fallenness, and identified with sinners. The holy God shared the shame, pain and death of this broken world. God’s first act of identification was the incarnation itself and was continually exhibited in the ministry of Jesus.

The cross, however, is the moment of God’s ultimate self-humiliation. There Jesus was “numbered among the transgressors” (Luke 22:37). There Jesus “became sin” for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). There he became a “curse” for us (Galatians 3:13). There he “bore our sins in his body” (1 Peter 2:24).

But what does it mean for Christ to identify with sinners? We need to say more.

Third, God substituted God for sinners in Jesus Christ. The cross is not fundamentally a human sacrifice. Jesus, as God in the flesh, sacrificed himself for humanity. God is the sbustitute. The Triune community itself experiences the hideousness of sin through the Godforsakenness of the crucified one. The Triune community offered its own life, community, and fellowship for the sake of reconciliation with the world they loved.

God deals with sin in Jesus Christ within the Triune community’s own life rather than externalizing that punishment. God experiences the torment of sin rather than inflicting that torment. The Lord of glory cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34). The Triune community internalized the horror and punishment of sin rather than punishing humanity with eternal wrath. This is the love of God that sent the Son into the world as a “propitiation” for sin (1 John 4:10).

Why did God not just “forgive” without substitution? We need to say more.

Fourth, God satisfied God in Jesus Christ. We do not satisfy God. Only God can do it. God acts in character and with integrity (2 Timothy 2:13). God’s own faithfulness is God’s ground of action. Therefore, out of mercy and great love, God decided to justify the ungodly but in a just way. God determined to demonstrate justice in redeeming humanity while at the same time demonstrating love.

The cross is the moment of God’s self-satisfaction. God set forth Jesus Christ as the means of averting wrath (Romans 3:25-26). God’s own self-satisfaction was necessary if God was to remain both just and justifier. God’s work in Christ is a divine self-propitiation whereby the Triune community absorbs the eschatological wrath due us. God dealt with sin by taking it up into the Trinity’s own life where its power was destroyed. The Triune community sacrificed its own unbroken bliss so that broken people might join their communion and the broken cosmos receive healing.

I am not sure I can say much more.

The Resurrection of Jesus: Raised for Our Justification

Jesus was raised for “our justification” (Romans 4:25) so that we might be saved by “his life” (Romans 5:10; cf. 2 Corinthians 5:15). But first it was the justification of Jesus himself. When God raised Jesus from the dead the judgment of death (curse) was reversed and the just one vindicated. This is the “mystery of godliness” (1 Timothy 3:16). Death did not win. The resurrection of Jesus destroys death. His resurrection is our resurrection.

First, our resurrection with Jesus is the presence of God’s transforming Spirit. The life we now live is not our own–it is the resurrected life of Jesus (Romans 6:11; Galatians 2:20). We live in the power of the life-giving Spirit who has given us “new life” in Christ. The presence of the Spirit is God’s gift by which God transforms us into the image of Christ. Thus, the present experience of the transforming power of the Spirit bears fruit in us and is a foretaste of our full redemption by the power of the Spirit in the future resurrection (Romans 8:11-12).

Second, our resurrection with Jesus transforms our experience of death.
Since God has defeated death, we no longer fear its hostile grip. Consequently, our experience of death is transformed from hopelessness, fear and despair into hope, expectation and anticipation. Though we no longer fear death we hate it as it defaces God’s good creation.

Third, our resurrection with Jesus in our “spiritual” bodies enables full communion with God in the eschaton.
Since God has raised Christ with a “spiritual body,” we yearn for our spiritual bodies when we will experience the fullness of God’s Spirit in the new heaven and new earth. Indeed, the indwelling Spirit is our promise that we will be raised, and the power of the Spirit that now works in us to transform us into divine glory will transform our broken bodies into the glorious body of Jesus Christ (Romans 8:11; Philippians 3:21). Our present mortal, weak, and fallen bodies will be transformed into immortal, powerful, and glorious bodies. We will have “spiritual bodies,” that is, bodies energized and empowered by the full transforming presence of the Spirit of God (1 Corinthians 15:42-44).

The resurrection is God’s pledge to restore the world to its original goodness. God acted decisively to reverse the effects of Good Friday. The resurrection is God’s pledge of eschatological reversal in a new heaven and a new earth. The resurrection is new creation.

Conclusion

In Jesus Christ, God was incarnated among us to unite God with materiality, mediated the redemptive presence of the kingdom of God through ministry, suffered with us and for us, and was raised for us. Atonement is God’s work. The gospel is what God has done in Jesus Christ. We do not “do” the gospel. The gospel is God’s work of atonement whereby God reconciles us through faith. God is the actor and we are the receiver. God accomplishes redemption and we are saved by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8).


Arminianism on the Righteousness of Saving Faith

December 22, 2008

Recently a researcher in Europe asked for a copy of my article The Righteousness of Saving Faith: Arminian Versus Remonstrant Grace (published in Evangelical Journal in 1991) to assist his investigation of Arminianism. It gave me the opportunity to dig it up and put it on my website.  The article is based on my Ph.D. dissertation The Theology of Grace in Jacobus Arminius and Philip van Limborch: A Study in Seventeenth Century Dutch Arminianism completed at Westminster Theological Seminary in 1985. I have not yet put my dissertation online (perhaps soon).

The article argues for a distinction between Arminianism and Remonstrantism. In other words, there is a difference between Arminius and what often passes for “Arminianism” in contemporary discussions. Roger Olson’s recent Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities (who makes significant use of my dissertation) seeks to help us make this distinction.  Classic or Historic Arminianism is much closer to Reformed theology than many of its contemporary expressions, including what we find in the Stone-Campbell Movement.

What I think is significant for the Stone-Campbell Movement in this discussion is that historically there have been at least two understandings of grace within the movement.  If we focus the discussion of grace on the “righteousness of saving faith,” the difference between Classic Arminianism and Remonstrantism rears its head within the Stone-Campbell Movement as well.

My published work on K. C. Moser illustrates this disagreement within Churches of Christ.  What I have called the “Tennessee Tradition” (e.g., R. C. Bell) pursues an Arminian understanding of grace and the nature of saving righteouenss.  What I have called the “Texas Tradition” (e.g., Guy N. Woods) practically reproduces the Remonstrant understanding of grace. (For those interested in the broader Texas/Tennessee contrasts, see Kingdom Come by Bobby Valentine and myself).

The critical difference is something like this.  Classic Arminianism affirms that the righteousness of saving faith is external to faith itself, that is, the righteousness that saves is from God and is a gift to us. Classically, this righteousness is the work of Christ imputed to us. Remonstrantism affirms that the righteousness of saving faith is inherent within faith itself, that is, our faith is a righteousness which God counts as obedient righteousness. Classically, Remonstrantism denies the imputation of Christ’s righteousness and affirms that our obedience is a cause of our own righteousness.  Those who grew up in Churches of Christ in the mid-20th century may have heard this as:  God has done his part (2 points) and now we add our part (2 points) so now we have salvation (4 points), that is, 2 + 2 = 4. Significantly, the “part” we play is, in fact, a contribution of righteousness through obedience by which we measure up to the “plan” that God has graciously enacted to save us.  In effect, our own righteousness saves us by our obedience, but it is viewed as “grace” because the plan is God’s gift.  God gives the plan (his 2 points), and we work the plan (our 2 points), and the result is we are saved (4 points). In effect, we save oursleves by our own righteousness–which is what Calvinists have always accused Arminians of believing.  But it is true of Remonstrants and others, but not of Arminius and Classic Arminianism.

I don’t intend to argue this here, but submit the publications on my website for your reading as you have interest.  The details of the argument are provided there.


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