01.01.08
Posted in Tom Gilson at 11:20 am by Tom Gilson
Happy New Year!
Can you keep your New Year’s resolutions this year? Have you tried in past years? How did you do? Most of us give up before January ends. It’s surprisingly difficult to make a decision about our personal habits and stick with it, isn’t it? Can we actually improve ourselves?
The answer is no, we can’t. That may come as a surprise to some readers of a church blog, for you may think that Christianity is about improving ourselves: learning to do the right things, being more loving and kind, obeying the Ten Commandments, and so on. It’s not so, actually. People who have followed Christ for any length of time commonly say, “Living the Christian life isn’t hard, it’s impossible!”
More specifically, it’s impossible to improve ourselves on the inside, where it counts. We may be able to set some goals and reach them. We may be able to adjust some behavior, or change some habits. But these changes are on the surface; they don’t get to the heart. And because they’re on the surface, often they are fragile. They break easily. We fail to keep up with our goals and standards. That applies to New Year’s resolutions, certainly, and for that reason some Christian leaders recommend against making them. It even applies to the one standard that is unquestionably, consistently a good one, the Law of God. It even applies to the best of us. The New Testament leader and writer Paul said,
For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate…. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing…. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members [parts of my body, see more here] another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?
This is from the seventh chapter of his letter to the Romans (ESV). Even his perfect agreement with the law of God, and his intense desire to follow it, was not enough. It only showed what a failure he was.
This sounds terribly familiar to me–it’s a picture of my own experience at many times. How about you? Have you been made as painfully aware that you can’t live up to whatever standard you have thought was good and right? What then? Are we hopeless? Is there nothing we can do?
Paul goes on to say yes, there is hope! In the next chapter he writes,
For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.
Romans is a closely reasoned and complex letter, and his point may not be immediately clear, especially since I’m not quoting the whole. I’ll pick out just three main points here that I think will help explain it.
First, we can have freedom from this terrible cycle of sin (our failures) and death (the inevitable result of the cycle). That’s great news! But we do not free ourselves. We are freed by what God has done. He sent his own Son “in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us.” It’s his doing.
Second, this freedom is founded on Jesus Christ. He “has set you free in Christ Jesus.” Paul writes elsewhere in Romans (and it’s found throughout the New Testament) that we start by placing our faith in Jesus Christ, trusting him to free us from our sin. There’s a great explanation of this here. Here’s the mistake many make: they think they must get their lives straight in order to begin to follow Jesus Christ. No, he accepts us as we are, and he will do the work to free us from our failures.
Third, to experience this freedom day by day, we “walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” The Spirit here is not some vague ethereal religious sense, but the Holy Spirit, who is God Himself dwelling with those who have placed their faith in Christ. Again I’m going to rely on another resource to explain how we can experience this daily walk with the Holy Spirit.
What is life like when we follow the guidance of the Holy Spirit? Paul wrote about this in another letter, too. In Galatians 5 he emphasized freedom again. It’s not a matter of gritting our teeth and going by willpower, but of simple following:
So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature.
And the result is something that grows out of us naturally, like fruit. I don’t know what your New Year’s resolutions might be, but if you were to resolve to be more like this, and if it were really to happen, wouldn’t it be great? God says it’s not a matter of resolving but of walking in the Spirit:
The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.
We can experience success; we can know freedom from failure and guilt! But we cannot do it on our own resources. Jesus Christ is the foundation for all we do that is right (pleasing to God). The Holy Spirit is God’s provision for our experiencing this. Let your New Year’s resolution be to explore and learn all that this relationship with God through the Holy Spirit can mean. Let the Word of God guide your other decisions. Any other resolutions will take care of themselves from there.
Technorati Tags: Christian Growth, Holy Spirit, New Year’s Resolutions
Permalink
12.20.07
Posted in Tom Gilson at 2:19 pm by Tom Gilson
It’s just about Christmas, time to celebrate the miracle of the Incarnation–God becoming man, born of a virgin. It’s an obvious opportunity to consider whether the Christian claims of miracles are still credible in light of modern science. Christianity without the Virgin Birth is about as meaningful as Christianity without the Resurrection; both miracles were necessary for God to have conquered sin and death as a man. But what about scientific objections to miracles?
Christians have to face these objections squarely. Some of us have a nagging concern of our own, from things we’ve read or things we were taught in school, making us wonder if science has really displaced the Biblical message of Christmas. Others of us hear it from people we talk with. In fact there are good answers to these kinds of questions.
The objections fall into three main versions:
1. Miracles can’t happen
2. Miracles shouldn’t happen
3. Miracles never have happened
The second of these will make more sense as we proceed. We’ll start with the first, though.
Read the rest of this entry »
Permalink
12.03.07
Posted in Tom Gilson at 3:08 pm by Tom Gilson
(Originally written for non-believers as part of a series on reasons to believe in Christ, this article is presented here in hopes that it will also encourage believers.)
Every Christian I’ve asked about this has said the same thing: there’s power, life, beauty in the Word of God. I wrote recently about the beauty of the life of Jesus Christ, and reflecting on it since then, I would add that it’s a certain kind of beauty: not the delicate grace of an orchid, but more like the strong, awesome grandeur of a river rushing down a steep forested mountain. (Though when tenderness was called for, Christ had that as well. An amazing, remarkable person.)
The Word of God has a mixed kind of beauty: in some places it’s fresh, airy, purely encouraging and refreshing. In other places it’s far rougher.
In fact there are many places in the Bible that bother me. The Old Testament wars are bloody; the teaching on hell is very uncomfortable. This is not Emily Dickinson. Scripture doesn’t beckon like a light treat; it calls to the deepest part of the soul, and challenges it. But hell and wars are not actually the parts that bother me most, to be honest. The most difficult places are those that call me to love my enemy, to show compassion on strangers, to care for the poor, to give up my life that God may give it back to me. In short, the hardest parts are the ones that call me to be different and better than I am.
The book of James calls the Bible a mirror: we can see in it how we really are, by comparison with what God meant us to be. The book of Hebrews calls it a two-edged sword, piercing to the very division of soul and spirit. There’s a hint there that it is talking both about the written Word and the Incarnate Word of God, who is Jesus Christ (John 1:1). Christ was the bodily revelation, Scripture is the permanent record available to us now.
I grew up reading the Bible occasionally. I knew it was supposed to make some kind of difference in my life, but it really didn’t–not until I made a life commitment, by faith, to follow Jesus Christ. After that, I was astonished, quite literally, at the life and power the Scripture suddenly had for me. Many, many other Christians have said the same thing. When one makes that faith commitment to Christ, one thing that happens is that the Author of Scripture “moves in;” a new, intimate connection with God the Holy Spirit begins, such a close connection that the Bible calls it “filling” or “indwelling.” It became the words of an intimate friend and Father to me.
My own dad has written an autobiography; my mom’s father did too. I’m quite sure that those biographies mean a lot more to me than they would to you. That’s part of the reason for the change. The Bible also says God provides an inner light of revelation to enliven believers’ understanding, which is another reason it all changed. Now, obviously this was not evidence for Christ before I became a Christian, and I’m not expecting any nonbeliever to take it as such, unless you are willing to accept the quite uniform testimony of many, many believers. For as I said, every one that I have asked about it, has said that they find this kind of life in it. For us it certainly is a powerful confirmation of our beliefs.
I’ve read through the entire Bible systematically four or five times, and besides that I’ve studied large portions of it in depth. There’s always something new there, and it’s amazingly relevant to the 21st Century. Not that all of it is intended still to apply today. Much of the Old Testament law was intended to apply only up until the time of Christ; it was a pointer to him, and once fulfilled, it was finished. You’ll find that clearly stated in the words of Jesus, Peter, Paul, and throughout the book of Hebrews. So when the challenge is given, “Do you mean we can’t wear garments of mixed fabric like it says in Leviticus,” we are quite free to say, “No, we don’t mean that. Not any more.” The Old Testament predicted a time would come when a “new covenant” would partially supplant it. The New Testament explains quite adequately what parts of the Old Testament teachings still apply and which do not.
(Oh, and frankly I don’t understand why that law for garments was important at the time. Not every word of the Bible speaks to me with equal relevance and power. The Bible is quite unabashedly situated in history, and therefore its presentation is culturally conditioned. It needs some cultural translation, across time and across societies. Nevertheless the teachings and principles, with that translation respectfully applied, are timeless and cross-cultural.)
Not only is there always something new, there’s something refreshingly strong in each prayerful reading. Again, I echo the common voice of Christians in this. The Bible calls us to change, and those who submit to its guidance, by the power of the Holy Spirit, do change. Relationships are healed, love is renewed, bad habits are released, and the perhaps-hackneyed yet still true words joy and peace really do enter in. I’ve seen it in many hundreds of people. I’ve yet to see one arrive at a fully Christlike life, least of all myself; but that doesn’t negate at all the good work that is done by God through his Word.
So now I’ve talked about the power of the word, some of its challenges; have I spoken yet of its real beauty? I’m not sure I know how to do that. My last post was about the beauty of Christ–that’s something we see in his Word, that lends beauty to the narrative. There is moving and elegant poetry all around the Old Testament. Have you read the Psalms? They’re incredibly honest–no whitewashed feel-good spirituality there, but a genuine wrestling with difficulties, doubts, and pain, yet always with a note of praise to God in spite of it. God understands it’s not easy, and he made sure we had the witness to that in his Word. No one could count the number of hurting believers who have found comfort there.
The New Testament letters, on the other hand, are often doctrinally-oriented, yet always grounded in real situations. They were, after all, real letters to real churches (or individuals) addressing real situations. There is bracing intellectual challenge in a book like Romans–yet even that ended with line after line of personal greetings to Paul’s friends.
I think I’ve written an appreciation of God’s Word. I don’t think I’ve approached a proper rendition of its beauty. You can find it for yourself, though, if you’ll spend a few hours in it. For a great combination of the story of Christ and excellent literary language, I recommend the Gospel of John or Luke. I like the English Standard Version and the New King James Version best. You can find either online at Bible Gateway. But hey, it’s a book, and there’s nothing quite like holding the real thing in your hand.
Permalink
11.16.07
Posted in Tom Gilson at 9:54 am by Tom Gilson
God is good, and his goodness is shown more clearly in Jesus Christ than in any other way. There is a strong beauty in Jesus Christ.
“Beauty” is not a word we generally apply to men, but this post is an introduction to a series on the beauty of the entire Christian faith, and the Christian way of thinking. Mathematicians speak of and see beauty in their demonstrations. Scientists consider beauty (elegance, simplicity, fit, etc.) to be a sign of a theory’s truth, an indicator of accuracy. There is beauty in Christianity. Some of it is theoretical: its explanations for the natural world and the human condition are elegant, simple, profound.
When I first put my faith in Jesus Christ, I had seen and was persuaded by strong evidences that the Bible’s historical record could be trusted. Those evidences are as strong as ever, but they are not absolute proof. I’ve read at length about various philosophical arguments for God, and some of them are very, very convincing to me. Still, there is no complete proof that God exists or that Jesus Christ is his Son.
There is enough there, though, that I am perfectly willing to stake all that I am on what I believe. Recently I’ve come to realize there’s a unifying theme to all that seems convincing to me in Christianity, and that is its beauty.
It’s a truism that no one in history matches him and his influence. More remarkable is the fact that even in myth or fiction there is nothing like the life of Christ. There are characters who resemble one piece of him or another: spiritual teachers, miracle workers, gadflies to the established order, and so on. But no other person has even been imagined in whom it all fits together so well, so beautifully. Has another character ever been conceived who combines such genuine, human, almost earthy reality with such transcendent spirituality? Jesus walked, ate, worked, prayed, got tired, got hungry, just as we do. Bill Cosby said in a comedy routine years ago, “I started out as a child.” Cosby’s line was comical because we don’t usually point out something so ordinary. Jesus didn’t have to do that–he didn’t have to do the ordinary–but, as God come to dwell with us, he started out (on earth) as a child. He grew up as needy and dependent as any of us. He celebrated at celebrations; he wept at a funeral. He learned by practice what it means to be obedient. He learned by practice what it means to be challenged, to be opposed, to suffer.
So there was a distinct humanness to him, which never once disappears from his picture on the pages of the New Testament. There was also, unmistakably, the divine. He claimed to be one with the Father (the Greek there mean sharing the essence and not just the thoughts or the purposes); he forgave sin as only God can; he claimed to have been around before Abraham and used the unique, unutterable name of God for himself when he said it. Somehow he does it without it ringing megalomaniacal.
He healed, he freed people from demons, he raised the dead, he walked on water, he fed the multitudes. Think of others who have been portrayed in myth or fiction as having powers like that. Do they display the same groundedness, the same reality of humanity that he did? He brought the human and divine together in a way that no storyteller has matched; possibly because it’s a life beyond human imagining. It could never have been thought up if it had not been observed.
He loved; he taught love, grace, compassion, and forgiveness, even toward one’s enemies. He taught it by consistent example and not just by words. He was gentle with those who needed gentleness. He was terribly powerful with the smug religionists, the hypocrites, those who used religion to put heavy burdens on others and to exalt themselves. The power he used, though, more often than not, was the power of their own words against themselves. It was the power of a mirror reflecting truly on them. He was unremitting in his insistence on truth, truth lived out in love.
There is a literary analogue to the trial and death of Christ in the execution of Socrates, who died willingly for the sake of the truth. I love the Socrates story too. Both stood before injustice with a stance of powerful humility: they each proved their case by their deaths. The death of Christ is different even from that of Socrates, though; for Socrates met his end quite peacefully, surrounded by sympathetic friends. Jesus Christ forgave his literal torturers, while hanging from what has often been described as humanity’s cruelest-ever instrument of execution.
Thus even before we come to the most significant, and most contested, claim about the life of Christ, we see something unique, beautiful, unmatched. It’s been said that early believers made this up, under pressure of persecution. I’m highly skeptical they could have done it. I’m even more highly skeptical that a group of Jews would have entertained a moment’s thought of a divine-human person like this. And that, under the historical circumstances they lived in, they would have invented and clung tenaciously to a tale of a resurrection–that crowning act of an unparalleled life–takes more faith to believe than that the resurrection actually happened.
This is (some of) the beauty of the life of Christ. We his followers have not always reflected it well, but nevertheless his picture stands in glory in the pages of the Bible, and has inspired many to seek, even if not to fully realize, a life like it.
This is not proof. Alister McGrath, the Christian theologian/apologist from Oxford, said in the question/answer period following a lecture (mp3 file):
“I think any worldview goes beyond the available evidence. Whatever you’re saying, whatever you say is meaningful, whether you believe in democracy, Christianity or atheism, actually, you’re going beyond the available evidence. And I think that means you’re making statements that actually in the end cannot be proven to be true. You take them on trust because you believe they are rational, you believe that they are right, but you cannot prove them to be so.”
I agree. This is not proof; no worldview has such a thing in any final, incontestable terms. Nevertheless, there’s something mightily compelling here, so that among the choices of worldviews, this one stands out as rational, as one we can believe is right: partly because of its beauty.
Originally Posted on ThinkingChristian.net
Permalink
Next entries »
