Once again, I am pleased to have the opportunity to review a book from Zondervan as part of a blog tour, this time for Michael Williams, How to Read the Bible through the Jesus Lens. Sadly, my review copy arrived after the blog tour dates were already complete, so I am a little behind the times… ah well, never mind.

This is the third in a series of “How to Read the Bible” books, joining volumes jointly written by Gordon Fee and Douglas Stuart. Having benefitted greatly from the first two volumes in the series, and incorporated much of the material from the first volume into my own teaching, I was excited to read this newest addition.

In order to understand what How to Read the Bible through the Jesus Lens brings to the table above and beyond the earlier volumes, I decided to do a case study, and see what I learned about the book of Revelation from each of the three volumes. The first volume, How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth (hereafter For All Its Worth) offers an overview and introduction of the methodology of Bible reading. Fee and Stuart introduce the concept ‘exegesis’ (understanding a text in its context) and argue strongly for the necessity of exegesis before moving to interpretation and application. They emphasise understanding authorial intent as a means to finding the ‘primary meaning’ of a text. They then go through each of the major genres of biblical literature, offering guidelines for how to read and interpret each. So, for example, we are enjoined to read Revelation with a view to the author’s intent (to comfort those who were facing suffering and persecution under the Romans); to use the author’s interpretation of his own images serve as a starting point for understanding other (uninterpreted) images; to read for the whole rather than allegorically pressing details; and to keep our Old Testaments open to understand John’s OT references. These guidelines assist the layperson in finding manageable starting points for understanding what is often shunned as ‘too difficult to understand’. Each is illustrated with relevant examples from Revelation.

How to Read the Bible Book by Book (hereafter Book by Book) follows up on the work done in For All Its Worth by working through the Bible book by book and applying the principles taught in the earlier volume. This is helpful where multiple books fall under one genre (i.e. one chapter in For All Its Worth), but a little redundant in the case of Revelation, which has a one-to-one mapping with the genre of apocalypse. Nevertheless, a sequential presentation of the material at a high level (approximately one or two paragraphs per chapter of Revelation) is helpful. As Fee and Stuart write in their introduction, ‘The concern of this book is to help you read the Bible as a whole, and even when the “whole” is narrowed to “whole books,” it is important for you always to be aware of how each book fits into the larger story.’ (14) To this end, in the chapter on Revelation they offer, in summary (dot-point) form comments on provenance and theological themes and emphases, followed by an overview of the structure and message of the book. They then go through the book section by section, with brief comments on how the section contributes to the message of the book, and the book to the message of the Bible.

These volumes are, in my view, a tough act to follow. For All Its Worth is my immediate recommendation to anyone who is looking to make the first steps toward structured Bible reading and study. Williams has some big shoes to fill.

How to Read the Bible through the Jesus Lens (hereafter Jesus Lens) seeks to offer an explicitly Christological (i.e. Christ-focused) reading of every book of the Bible. In his Introduction, Williams writes,

Reading the Bible through the Jesus lens is reading it the way it was intended. It keeps our reading, understanding, teaching, and preaching properly focused on God’s grand redemptive program that centers on his own Son. Seeing how each biblical book makes its own unique contribution to that redemptive focus enables us to use these diverse materials with much more confidence and accuracy. The Jesus lens ensures that our exegetical bowling balls stay within the lane and don’t go crashing over into areas where they can cause a lot of damage to the faith of believers and to our ability to use the Bible fruitfully in our service to God. (9)

If ever there were a book of the Bible where bowling balls were prone to leave lanes it is surely Revelation! So what advice does Williams offer on reading the book of Revelation ‘through the Jesus lens’?

He starts by offering a brief overview of the situation which prompted the writing of the book of Revelation (though in less detail than Book by Book). He states the theme of the Book: ‘God enables his people to stand fast against Satan and his forces until God brings about the ultimate and sure victory’ (263). The section on ‘The Jesus Lens’, where you would expect Williams to focus (no pun) his attention, is a mere 3 brief paragraphs (approximately 2/3 of a page) that effectively points out that it is the Lamb who brings about salvation, and that though appearances suggested that Jesus was overpowered by evil, Revelation overturns this false impression by depicting a God who is in control and a Lamb who, though slain, is ultimately victorious. Williams closes the chapter by offering some contemporary implications (though sin is rampant, we live with hope) and ‘hook questions’ (discussion starters, suitable for a group Bible study).

Whilst I generally try to avoid criticising a book for what it is not, in this case I feel it is warranted: for a book entitled How To… it contains very little instruction. There is no discussion of how Williams arrived at the ‘Jesus lens’, nor of how to use it. True, Williams demonstrates his own usage, thus modelling a method, but we end up with his finished product without any real insight on how he arrived at it. As a result, if asked to look at portions of Scripture smaller (or larger!) than a canonical book, the student would need to start from scratch. In addition, whilst I appreciate Williams’ desire to write ‘a book that one doesn’t need a wheelbarrow to carry around’, I fear that his brevity necessitates gross generalisations. As a summary, his chapter on Revelation offers considerably less detail than Book by Book.

The strength of Williams’ book is the way it reminds us that all the Scriptures speak of Christ (John 5:39), a reminder sorely needed today as any day. But in its current form it is hard to see that it serves any particular audience – certainly it is too brief and lacking in methodological detail to be an instructional (How To!) manual. I will continue to recommend For All Its Worth.

Bibliography

• Fee, Gordon D., and Douglas K. Stuart. How to Read the Bible Book by Book : A Guided Tour. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2002.
• Fee, Gordon D., and Douglas K. Stuart. How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2003.
• Williams, Michael James. How to Read the Bible through the Jesus Lens : A Guide to Christ-Focused Reading of Scripture. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011.

Some time ago, Microsoft produced an ad for their XBox gaming platform that featured a child being born. Rather than being ‘caught’ in the usual way, the child rockets out of the room, flying through the air. As he flies, he rapidly ages, transitioning through childhood, adolescence, middle age and into old age, before eventually crashing into an open casket.

When I first saw this ad, I could tell immediately what it was, because I had seen thousands just like it. I knew that, sandwiched in between two portions of whatever show I was watching at the time, the advertiser had only a limited time to tell their story and catch my attention. I could guess that there would be some summary statement at the end to make sure I didn’t miss the point, probably accompanied by the sponsor’s logo.

Tonight, my goal is to provide you with some tools for understanding the book of Revelation and then, using these to look at Revelation 12 and see how they help us to understand John’s message. Though these tools will be unfamiliar to you at first – as the conventions of advertising were once unfamiliar – the more you use them and immerse yourself in using them the easier and more familiar they will become.

Some guidelines

But first some guidelines for reading Revelation:

• The first thing to ask yourself when reading Revelation (or any portion of Scripture, for that matter) is, What was the author’s original intent? For example, John wrote Revelation to comfort those who were facing, or were about to face, suffering and persecution under the Romans.
• Read to see the whole, rather than allegorically pressing details – much as you would a parable. Where details are included, they are generally done so for (a) dramatic effect;¹ or (b) to make sure readers will not miss the reference.²
• Pictures of the future are just that: pictures. They express a reality, but are not to be confused with reality, nor is every detail necessarily to be ‘fulfilled’. Let’s say you get the opportunity to view Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. What do you do? You stand back just far enough to see and appreciate the whole. Only then do you get up close and appreciate the techniques and paints used. Apocalypse is seldom intended to give chronological details of the end of history. For example, we should not necessarily expect a literal pouring out of the four disasters described in Rev. 8:6 – 9:16. Instead it is more likely that this is a reference back to the plagues inflicted upon Pharaoh, and the judgment that went along with them. Don’t spend your time worrying about whether current events are the fulfillment of events described in apocalypse – instead, understand John’s message that God is in control, and will bring history to a close on his terms. Even where events described seem to mirror temporal (either present or past) events, be aware that there may be a “not yet” dimension.
• When the author interprets his own images, use these as a starting point for understanding the other images. There are several images in Revelation which John interprets for us: the Son of Man³ who is Jesus; the lampstands⁴ which are the churches; the stars⁵ which are the angels of the churches; the dragon⁶ who is Satan; the 7 heads of the beast⁷ which are the seven hills; and the prostitute⁸ who is Bablyon etc.
• Be aware of Old Testament references. John references or echoes the Old Testament some 250 times in Revelation, so that every significant moment in his narrative is described almost exclusively in Old Testament language.⁹ The OT context gives us clues as to how John’s images and pictures are to be understood.

The Passage

So how does this help us? Let’s look at Revelation 12 and see if we can apply these principles.

When you think about the Christmas story, what are the images that come to mind? For me, they are images of peace, tranquility and joy. “Peace on Earth and goodwill towards men,” as many carols put it. Aside from the minor problem of having to sleep in a stable, there seems little to indicate anything out of the ordinary. Hardly material for a story or movie, surely? Children are born all the time, there hardly seems anything special about this one. Sure, there are a few angels, some wise men, but where’s the action? Where’s the drama? The romance? Sure doesn’t seem to fit into any book or movie genre I know!

Then we turn to Revelation 12. The same event becomes considerably more interesting. Crowns of stars, clothing of sunshine, a seven-headed dragon, warrior angels, great battles. You name it, it’s there! Much more like what we are used to seeing on TV.

And yet this is not the Christmas story we know. This is not the part of the bible that we turn to each year at Christmas time, that our parents read to us when we were little. Why not? Perhaps because it is somewhat harder to come to terms with, lacking the solid, earthy realities of mother and father, stable and manger, donkey and cattle. Without these things, Revelation 12 (and indeed Revelation in general) is dismissed by many Christians as being a dream bearing little or no relation to reality. Without easily recognisable anchors to things we are familiar with, we find ourselves unable to understand what is going on.

Why does John use such outlandish imagery?

Since the invention of SMS, we have taught ourselves a new way of writing, almost a new language – words and phrases get compressed down to as few characters as possible. ‘I will see you later’ becomes ‘Cya l8r’, ‘Where are you?’ becomes ‘Wru’. These conventions are used so often that they are simply understood. And because everyone understands them, nobody feels the need to explain what each one means, we simply use them as a normal part of our communication.

As John writes Revelation, he takes similar shortcuts. He uses symbols and metaphors to express himself, many of which are completely foreign to us. The churches that John is writing to, however, were part of a culture very much used to interpreting such ‘signs’. It was quite common for people to go to the temples of the gods of their culture to receive an oracle from a seer – kind of like today’s horoscopes, only even more vague and obscure. It was then up to either the priest of the temple or the person receiving the oracle to interpret it. Over time, a rich tradition of how certain symbols were to be interpreted was developed. These would not have had to have been explained to the people receiving this message from John, but we don’t have the luxury of having grown up with them. Just like some future generation trying to understand our SMS messages or advertising, we struggle to understand what these symbols mean.

As we go through the passage tonight, I will try to highlight some of the most important symbols, and explain what they mean.

The Players

Let’s start by examining the characters in Revelation 12.

1 A great and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. 2 She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth.

The first of our three major characters appears, at first glance, to be Mary. A pregnant woman, giving birth to a child who will “rule all the nations with an iron scepter” (v. 5) (more on this later!). A closer examination, however, gives us a different interpretation.

The woman wears a “crown of twelve stars” (v.1), is clothed with the sun and has the moon for her footstool. There is another place in the bible where this combination of sun, moon and stars occurs – Joseph’s dream in Genesis 37. There, Joseph dreams of the sun, the moon and eleven stars bowing to one star. The dream is interpreted to mean that the stars are the twelve sons of Jacob, whilst the sun is Jacob himself and the moon is Rachel, Joseph’s mother. Extending this somewhat, we can then understand that the stars in the woman’s crown represent the twelve tribes of Israel, with the woman herself representative of the people of Israel.

The next character to appear in our unfolding drama is a dragon.

3 Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on his heads. 4 His tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky and flung them to the earth. The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth, so that he might devour her child the moment it was born.

One of the most common symbols throughout Revelation is that of the horn. A horn, quite simply, is a symbol of strength. The dragon has ten horns, and so is a creature of great strength. In Revelation (and elsewhere in the bible) the number seven is usually symbolic of completeness. Having seven heads and seven crowns, therefore, indicates the completeness of the dragon’s power on earth – he is overwhelmingly powerful. This becomes clearer when we understand from verse 9 that the dragon is “that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the world astray” – that is, the dragon is the “Prince of this World”.¹⁰ Remember, where John explains the meaning of something, we should take that as our starting point in understanding what is going on.

The third character is, of course, the child himself:

5 She gave birth to a son, a male child, who will rule all the nations with an iron scepter. And her child was snatched up to God and to his throne.

Without any doubt whatsoever, the child is Jesus. As we said at the start, John loves to use Old Testament images to make important points, and the “iron scepter” here is a reference to Psalm 2:9:

You will rule them with an iron scepter;
  
You will dash them to pieces like pottery.

The image is of an iron rod being used to shatter clay. Just as the clay doesn’t stand a chance, so too is evil doomed under Jesus’ rule.

The Plot

Now that we have a feel for who the characters are, we can turn to examine what they are doing. I don’t think the woman giving birth needs any explanation… so let’s instead ask ourselves why the dragon is hanging around in the delivery room.

Some weeks ago, Cedric shared with us about Simeon, a man who had been waiting for Jesus to appear. His waiting would have been characterised by longing, a desire to see the promised saviour. For him, the appearance of Jesus was an occasion for great joy, together with great peace that God was keeping his promise. There was another, however, for whom the waiting period had not been so pleasant. Satan knew very well what the result of Jesus coming would be – indeed we see his fears come to pass towards the end of tonight’s passage:

7 And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. 8 But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down… He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.

You see, Satan knew that his days were numbered – God had promised way back in Genesis 3 that there would come a descendant of Adam and Eve who would “crush [the serpent’s] head”. Since we have identified Satan as being the serpent (v.9), this prospect would not have been a pleasant one for him. Like Captain Hook hearing the crocodile’s clock, Satan has long been able to hear the sound of his death approaching.

In fact, Satan has been doing his level best to destroy the “seed” all along. Throughout history, he has taken every opportunity to try and kill off those who would be Jesus’ ancestors. Examples include: when Cain killed Abel; when Haman sought to have all of the Jews killed; the barrenness of both Sarah and Rebekah; and Esau threatening to kill Jacob for robbing him of his birth-right. In spite of this, he has failed every step of the way. His last remaining chance is that he can somehow corrupt or destroy Jesus himself.
Once again he fails, as Jesus is “snatched up to God and to his throne.” (v.5)

It would seem, from this passage, that Jesus was no sooner born than he ascended to be with God. Like the ad with which we started tonight, an entire lifetime is compressed into an instant. The reason, I think, is that this passage is not really concerned with the fate of Jesus. Jesus’ story is covered much more thoroughly elsewhere in Revelation. Instead, the point of this passage concerns the fates of the woman and the dragon.

The woman, we are told, “fled into the desert to a place prepared for her by God, where she might be taken care of for 1,260 days”.¹¹ In Israel’s history, the desert was traditionally a place of testing and refuge – God took care of Israel whilst they wandered through the desert for 40 years. It is definitely not the ‘promised land’. More specifically, this reference reminds us of Elijah being cared for in the desert during three and a half years of drought – 1,260 days. Whilst there, God provided food in the form of the widow’s flour and oil which miraculously never ran out. Because of this, the period of 1,260 days is traditionally associated with a time of testing and trial – it is not actually a literal 1,260 days, but is symbolic. It is also, by the way, the exact length of time that Satan is given to “trample on the holy city” (v11:2), as well as the length of time given to God’s witnesses for witnessing (v11:3). It is important to note that there is a fixed end to Satan’s rule on earth – it will not go on for ever. This is an important promise to us, who have to live through it!

The final part of the passage explains exactly what happens to Satan:

10 Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say:
’Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God,
and the authority of his Christ.
For the accuser of our brothers,
who accuses them before our God day and night,
has been hurled down.
11 They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb
and by the word of their testimony;
They did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.
12 Therefore rejoice, you heavens
and you who dwell in them!
 But woe to the earth and the sea,
because the devil has gone down to you!
He is filled with fury,
because he knows that his time is short.

Wherever you come across the words “I heard a loud voice say”, it generally means that an explanation is on the way. The Scooby gang is about to pull the rubber mask off the bad guy and tell us exactly who dunnit, how and why.

The who? The word Satan is the Hebrew word for ‘accuser’, so when the voice talks about the accuser having been “hurled down” (v.10), we know it is Satan they are talking about.

Why did they cast him out? Well, the only reason Satan was allowed to remain in heaven was because of his role as ‘accuser’. Kind of like the heavenly prosecutor – his purpose was to accuse us of our sins, to remind God that we are sinful and to invite his judgement upon us. More than just a job, this is something he did “day and night,” (v.10) suggesting that it is his purpose for existence. It is easy, now, to understand why Satan was so desperate to prevent Jesus’ coming – his reason for living was being taken away!
And God’s verdict? “Case dismissed. Thankyou Mr. Prosecutor, your services are no longer required, please remove yourself from my presence!”. Then when he refused to go, it was up to Michael and the other angels to remove him.

Now hang on. How could God, who is just, deliver a not-guilty verdict when we are so obviously guilty? From verse 11, we find that ‘They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb (Jesus) and by the word of their testimony.’ You see, when Jesus came to earth and died for our sins, Satan no longer had grounds for accusing us. As C. S. Lewis puts it in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe:

Though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.¹²

The Witch, like Satan, had the role of accuser. Her demands that Edmund was hers because of his treachery, and that his treachery could only be dealt with through blood, are not denied by Aslan. Instead of killing her then and there and removing the problem that way, instead of breaking the Emperor’s law, he chooses instead to be killed on the Stone Table in Edmund’s place – with amazing results! Aslan lives, whilst Edmund is freed from his guilt and the punishment that go with it. And the Witch? Her role as accuser is done – there is no-one left to accuse – and so she dies at Aslan’s hands (or paws!).

So out of all of this, what have we learned? Even if you didn’t know the Old Testament background or the significance of many of John’s symbols, you could still tell from this passage that a great battle was fought, and a victory won, that Satan has been cast out of heaven and those he ‘accused’ have ‘overcome him by the blood of the Lamb’. You don’t need to be an art critic to appreciate the ‘Mona Lisa’, neither do you need to be a theologian. But, when we do look closer, each additional detail that we have learned tonight – sun, moon, stars, time, 1260 days etc. – has served only to confirm that ‘big picture’, and this is a very promising sign that we are on the right track.

Christmas is, if you like, history’s alarm bell. The coming of Jesus marks the commencement of the time between his birth and his return – sometimes referred to as the “last days”. It heralds the 1,260 days of Satan’s time on earth, and of God’s witnesses witnessing. We who live in these times should remember that we, like the woman, have a place of shelter and refuge made ready for us by God. More than anything else, however, it should be a reminder of a victory already won, won by ‘the blood of the Lamb':

Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God
and the authority of his Christ.
For the accuser of our brothers,
who accuses them before our God day and night,
has been hurled down. (v.10)

Endnotes

1. e.g. Rev. 6:12-14
2. e.g. Rev. 9:7-11
3. Rev. 1:13
4. Rev. 1:20
5. Rev. 1:20
6. Rev. 12:9
7. Rev. 17:9
8. Rev. 17:18
9. e.g. Rev. 1:5b-6 refers back to the sacrificial imagery of Ex. 19:6.
10. John 12:31
11. Wherever you see the phrase “Times, time and half a time,” in the Bible, it is referring to this length of time – a ‘time’ is a year, so ‘times’ is 2 years and half a time is half a year – three and a half years or 1,260 days.
12. C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (London: Lions, 1980; reprint, 1987), 148.

This is part II of an ongoing discussion of Jonathan Edwards’ A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections. In case you missed it, please see Part I. Also see the contributions from my friend and conversation partner Andrew Starkey: Part I and Part II.

Q: What is this section about as a whole?

In Part 1, Edwards argued that true religious affections are a necessary component of true religion. However, this raises a question: how may one determine whether such religious affections are ‘true’ or not? Edwards begins to answer this question negatively in part 2, outlining many possible methods for making such a determination, but concluding that each of them is ultimately deficient. In this way, Edwards is clearing the detritus from the building site in order to lay a firm foundation.

Q: What is being said in detail, and how?

Edwards traces 12 possible, but ultimately faulty, rubrics for assessing religious affections. These twelve are surveyed one by one, particularly in the light of Scripture and practical reason, and each is finally rejected. The twelve possibilities are:

1. The magnitude of the affection;
2. The magnitude of physical effects upon the body of the one affected;
3. The affectee is fluent and fervent in talking about religion;
4. The affection is apparently from an external source;
5. The affection is accompanied by Scripture texts being brought to the mind;
6. The affectee presents an appearance of love;
7. Many affections are intertwined and accompany one another;
8. Comfort follows conviction;
9. The affectee is zealously engaged in religion;
10. The affectee praises and glorifies God;
11. The affectee is convinced that their experience is divine; and
12. The affectee has the approval of other saints.

These are not ordered according to any discernible system, though one notes a certain overlap particularly between 3, 9, and 10. Edwards’ method on each point is commonly to argue that the sign is consistent with either true or false religious affections. So, an overwhelmingly large affection may well be a component of a ‘true’ affection; but likewise a ‘false’ affection may be exceedingly powerful in its impact for our enemy is able to simulate such things. Thus, since the sign is consistent with either true or false affections, its presence is insufficient evidence in either direction. What is not clearly discussed is whether the sign’s absence is evidence against the truth of the affection, a point I will return to in the next section.

This idea of ‘counterfeit’ runs like a thread through many of the points Edwards makes. He writes:

It may be observed that the more excellent anything is, the more will be the counterfeits of it. Thus there are many more counterfeits of silver and gold, than of iron and copper: there are many false diamonds and rubies, but who goes about to counterfeit common stones? Though the more excellent things are, the more difficult it is to make anything that shall be like them, in their essential nature and internal virtues; yet the more manifold will the counterfeits be, and the more will art and subtlety be displayed, in an exact imitation of the outward appearance. (969)

Thus, since it is ultimately to the enemy’s advantage to influence the church by means of his own ‘false’ affections, he will work very hard to imitate – in as many particulars as he can – ‘true’ affections. After all, ‘Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.’ (2 Cor 11:14 NIV) But this leaves us with a question that I hope will be answered in the rest of Edwards’ treatise: what are the attributes of true religious affection and experience that cannot be counterfeited?

Q: Is the section true, in part or in whole?

Edwards’ method is sound, and his conclusions seem supported by the evidence. I thus consider that this section is true. However, as mentioned above, I am left to wonder whether the absence of any of these signs should be taken as evidence against the authenticity of the experience. In particular, if the affectee has no appearance of love (6) or is disapproved by other saints (12) shouldn’t these tell against authenticity?

Q: What of it?

I need to go back and consider my own practices of spiritual discernment. As we have previously discussed, the signs listed above are generally external (although some require revelation by the affectee to become so, such as where certain texts of Scripture are brought to mind), suggesting that the focus is on discerning the affections of others, but I believe that they ought to be practiced on oneself first, and only secondarily on others. As I think over my own life and experience of God, what criteria am I using to evaluate? If any of the points listed above, then that should trigger alarm bells and a closer scrutiny.

Some weeks ago, a friend suggested that most of us would feel pretty comfortable if Paul had not bothered with chapters 9-11. Surely it would have been the easiest thing to move on from the climactic conclusion of chapter 8 straight into chapter 12. Let’s try it on for size:

‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ (Rom 8:38–39)

‘Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God — this is your spiritual act of worship.’ (Rom 12:1)

What do you think? Flows pretty nicely, doesn’t it? Why, then, does Paul get sidetracked into a discussion about the future of ethnic Israel in chapters 9-11? I believe it is because Paul wants to establish beyond doubt the credibility and comprehensiveness of God’s mercy.

Let me explain.

Recently, a well known Christian televangelist went on record as believing that it is OK to get a divorce from a spouse who contracts Alzheimer’s Disease. Quite apart from the ethics of such a decision, imagine if a man who had divorced his first wife for this reason – a technical ‘loophole’ – were to seek remarriage. How much credibility would he have with his second wife? Don’t you think she might harbour some doubts about what other ‘loopholes’ might crop up?

In the same way, chapters 1-8 outline the mercy that God has shown to the Gentiles, yet without chapters 9-11 that very mercy is thrown in doubt. God had chosen Israel as his people; Paul wanted to demonstrate beyond doubt that they were not being abandoned because of some loophole, but rather that this inclusion of the Gentiles was ultimately for their benefit as well. In other words, he is saying: ‘Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy [to Jews and Gentiles alike]’ to act accordingly.

In her 1997 book Truly the Community, Marva Dawn relates the story of a child trying to open a flower bud. As a result of his sincere – though misguided – efforts, the blossom falls apart in his hands. Exasperated, he queries his mother, ‘Why does the bud fall apart when I try to open it, but when God opens it the flower is beautiful?’ Lacking assistance from his (speechless) mother, he reaches his own conclusion: ‘Oh, I know! When God opens a flower, he opens it up from the inside.’

No matter how hard we try to change an individual or community from the outside, unless the change is also driven from within it is ultimately doomed to failure. The Apostle Paul evidently knew this, instructing the Christians in Rome: ‘Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind’ (Rom. 12:2). Few things in this world are more difficult to change than a closed mind, and that is an accurate description of all who are not in Christ. In fact, Paul implies that this kind of transformation requires an act of God, instructing that the Romans must ‘be transformed’, not that they ‘transform themselves’.

Yet, when such a renewal does occur its effects are felt in every area of life – the way we think, speak and act in every circumstance. For it is not just any old mind that God gives us; the Apostle says in another place that ‘we have the mind of Christ’ (1 Cor. 2:16).

When God opens a flower, he opens it from the inside… and it is beautiful indeed!

Pick a city. Any city in the world, so long as you have never been there. Got one? OK, hands up if you can name a Christian in that city? Two? Five? Ten? As Paul reaches the conclusion of his epic letter to the Roman churches, churches in a city that he has never been to, he greets no fewer than 24 people by name! Some are people he has worked with, or been in imprisoned with. Some are family or close friends, others he may know only by reputation. Men and women alike are greeted with respect and affection. Paul is obviously intimately aware of the goings on in the churches in Rome.

This passage is all about people. Which is not surprising, really, since Paul has been talking about people and how Christians relate to other people – both Christians and non-Christians – since chapter 12. In that chapter he wrote about the renewing of the mind, and how that leads us to have transformed attitudes, actions and reactions to one another. In chapter 13, he spoke about the need to submit to authorities, which might not seem to be about relationships at first glance until the first person decides that traffic lights are simply providing suggestions of guidelines at which time relationships are both formed and broken very quickly. In 13:8 Paul wrote about our ‘continuing debt to love one another’. In chapter 14, and through into the first half of chapter 15, Paul is arguing very strongly that those who are ‘strong’ should nevertheless care for those who are ‘weak’ by not trampling their consciences.

From there to the end of the epistle, including the passage we are looking at tonight, Paul is recounting his own pastoral efforts on behalf of the church at large, and continuing to model his love for his fellow Christians, not least those in Rome. Where the previous chapters were about relating to people in general, this final chapter is very personal and specific, as reflected by the number of people addressed by name. Paul was a real person, writing to real people about real problems, and this is a fact we do well to keep in view as we read his epistle to the Romans.

Tonight, we’re going to consider Paul’s love for the Christians in Rome under three headings: (1) the foundation of love; (2) the promptings of love; and (3) the actions of love.

Love fellow believers because Christ has loved us and rescued us

On the 5th of August, 2010, a mine in San Jose, Chile, collapsed. 33 men were trapped 700 metres underground and 5 kilometres from the entrance to the mine they were working in. It was 17 days before those on the surface could even confirm the presence of any survivors. These men spent a record 69 days underground before their rescue could be effected. When they reached the surface, they all shook hands, waved goodbye, went home and never talked to one another again… What?

Of course, that’s not how the story ended at all! There was, in fact, great joy. An entire nation had collectively held its breath during the whole time they were underground; friends and relatives doubly so. For them, the response was great relief and joy at being reunited. But what about amongst the 33 men who had been trapped? These men, who were all but dead, had been rescued… together. I don’t know this, but I can easily imagine that the bonds formed underground were strong indeed. They had shared a terrible, harrowing experience and emerged from the other side of it alive. One thinks also of those who have survived wars, earthquakes, tsunamis and so on. Shared experiences, and particularly those charged with great danger or suffering, draw us together in a way that few other things can.

Paul recalls many shared experiences with those whom he greets, but the most repeated one may be seen in the phrases ‘in the Lord’, ‘in Christ’. These phrases are not empty, nor are they mere religious jargon. In fact, it is no exaggeration to say that Paul’s entire epistle has been developing the theme of how and why anyone can or should be ‘in Christ’.

Christians have been rescued from a much greater peril than being stuck underground. They faced the death of their bodies; we faced the eternal death of our souls. It may have taken an entire nation to rescue those miners, but it took the God of the universe to rescue us! The foundation of love between Christians is the action of God in Christ to rescue us. We are to love our fellow believers because Christ has loved us and rescued us.

Do you think those Chilean miners ever talked about their experience again? I reckon they did. Why are we Christians so shy, then, about reminding one another about what we have been saved from, how and by whom?

Remind each other of God’s grace in your shared experiences

Paul does not stop short at recalling our shared experience of salvation, however. God has saved us in Christ, and this is the foundation of our love for one another but, sinful as we are, we often require further promptings to love one another. Paul has a good solution for this: with those he has had personal interactions with, he regularly makes brief reference to some way in which God has blessed one or both of them through their interaction. So, with his good friends Priscilla and Aquila he recalls their shared work together and the fact that they risked their lives for him. This is an expression of love, because he is reminding them of God’s grace to him through them. Similarly, Paul greets Andronicus and Junia who were imprisoned with him, thus reminding them of God’s grace in setting them free. And there are many other examples packed into these short verses.

By recalling these things, Paul is encouraging those he is addressing, but the encouragement is also for the rest of the church who are hearing this letter read, who can experience God’s grace second hand, and be encouraged to look for it in their own lives also. We should be encouraged as well. God provided ‘fellow workers’ for Paul, to help him in the mission that he was called to, and God will provide such people for us as well. Rufus was indeed ‘chosen in the Lord'; we have been also. You may be imprisoned for the sake of Christ, as Paul was, but God will provide encouragement for you in the form of fellow believers such as Andronicus and Junia. Be encouraged by the faithfulness of people who have been Christians for longer than you have, such as Epenetus. Rejoice in the service of Mary, Tryphena, Tryphosa and Persis, and those who faithfully host house churches like Aristobulus and Narcissus.

Let’s be enthusiastic about reminding one another about God’s gracious working in our lives.

Turn your love into action

But, as the old saying goes, love is a verb. Paul does not just remember old times in order to ‘feel’ love toward these people. No, he uses these experiences as a motivation to ‘do’ love toward them. What kind of actions result from Paul’s love? Well, writing this epistle for a start!

Most obviously, Paul instructs his readers to ‘greet’ one another 13 times in this passage. Paul is physically separated from these believers, so he relies upon others to convey and express his love.

Yesterday morning, I was upstairs getting ready to face the day, whilst the rest of my family were downstairs having their breakfast. At least, Katrie and Elyana were downstairs. Aedan was having great fun coming up the stairs to see me before promptly asking ‘where’s Mummy and Baby Elly’ and heading back downstairs to look for them. After the first couple of times he did this, I suggested he go and tell Mummy and Baby Elly how much Daddy loves them. Then I sent him to give them each a kiss from Daddy. And so on. By doing this, Katrie and Elly were receiving expressions of my love for them. But, just as important, Aedan was learning about my love for them, and learning appropriate ways of expressing his own love for them.

So it was with Paul. He was unable to come to Rome and greet people in person. He did not have the opportunity to give Ampliatus a hug to reinforce his words of love. He could not sit down and have a beer with Urbanus and Stachys. And so he relied on others already in Rome to do these things on his behalf. And in standing in for Paul, these people were learning about Paul’s love for them and how to express it, much like Aedan learning about my love for Katrie and Elyana.
But they were also forming relationships with one another. It is hard to ‘greet’ someone – especially to greet them with a kiss, as commanded in verse 16 – without forming some measure of relationship with them! I used to be a part of a church where the two pastors made a particular effort to introduce people to one another, as the first step towards building relationships within the church. Paul does a bit of this too, introducing Phoebe (who was probably the person carrying this letter to Rome) and asking them to provide for her needs. I believe this is a good reminder to us to not be shy about introducing people to each other, particularly where we can see they can help each other in some way.

But… wait… kissing? Really? What’s with that? Kissing was the standard way of greeting a close family member. Paul is reminding us that we are family to one another, and our greetings and relationships should reflect that. So, if kissing is not appropriate for your family today, then what is? Find some healthy way of expressing the love that is appropriate amongst family members. We lose so much when cut physical interaction out of our relationships.

Let me ask, what do we do to promote relationships between Christians in this church? Let’s try an experiment. Introduce yourself to someone in the church you don’t know, and say, ‘The apostle Paul told me to greet you in the Lord.’ Do you know everyone? Go find someone in one of the other congregations… or another church… or a student fellowship group… or at Livewire… or somewhere else. Or else find someone you know well, and remind them of some way in which God has shown grace to both of you.

I also wonder what we can do to promote relationships with Christians in other parts of the world. It amazes me that, in a day where any news had to be carried by messenger that Paul could be so informed about the church to which he was writing, but we who can send a message to the other side of the world are so uninformed. What can we do to become partners for the gospel with those in other places? If you’re not already, why not make the effort to find out about how life looks for one (or more!) of our link missionaries? Who is in their church? What are their needs? What is God doing in their midst? How can you pray for them?
In these ways, you will be sharing Paul’s love but, more importantly, you will be sharing Christ’s love. Because, like Paul relied on the Roman churches to embody his love, Christ relies upon us to be his ‘hands and feet'; it is through his ‘body’ that Jesus expresses his love for his people and for the world.

So let’s love our fellow believers we have all been rescued together by Jesus Christ. This is the foundation of love. Let’s remind one another of God’s grace to us; these things are the promptings of love. And let’s turn our love into action, becoming the embodiment – the incarnation! – of Christ to one another.

Amen.

My friend Andrew Starkey and I have decided to read through Jonathan Edwards’ A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections. This post contains my reflections on Part I.

The questions that are being used as a framework for discussion (and are the headings in this post) are taken from Mortimer Jerome Adler and Charles Lincoln Van Doren, How to Read a Book, Rev. and updated ed. (New York,: Simon and Schuster, 1972), 46.

Numbers in parentheses are location numbers in the Kindle text referenced above.

Q: What is the section about?

The problem facing Edwards is clear, and he outlines it in his introduction: In the midst of the Great Awakening, he recognises that there is a great ‘mixture of counterfeit religion with true, not discerned and distinguished’ (48). In Part I, therefore, he argues that true religion is characterised by the presence of ‘holy affections’ (144). He mounts his argument from the imperatives of Scripture, the nature of the world, the history of the church and particularly the example of Christ. He then draws a number of inferences from this proposition, namely that (1) those without religious affections are spiritually dead; (2) we ought properly to desire those things that move the affections; and (3) we ought to be ashamed that ‘we are no more affected with the great things of religion’ (606).

Q: What is being said in detail, and how?

Edwards starts by considering 1 Pet 1:8: ‘Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.’ He argues that persecutions and trials (referred to in the previous verses) ‘above all other things, have a tendency to distinguish between true religion and false’.

True virtue never appears so lovely, as when it is most oppressed; and the divine excellency of real Christianity, is never exhibited with such advantage, as when under the greatest trials: then it is that true faith appears much more precious than gold! And upon this account is “found to praise, and honor, and glory.” (111)

In particular, true religion will result in love to Christ and joy in Christ. From this, Edwards states the main premise which he will spend the rest of the section (perhaps the rest of the book) developing and defending: ‘True religion, in great part, consists in holy affections.’

Strictly speaking, this does not seem to be a logical deduction from his evidence up to this point. It would, perhaps, be more accurate to say that ‘true religion responds to persecution with holy affections’. After all, maybe affections are not required when not under persecution, or perhaps affections are just one among many symptoms of ‘true religion’. But the rest of section goes on to develop this fuller premise.

Edwards’ working definition of ‘affections’ is as follows:

The affections are no other than the more vigorous and sensible exercises of the inclination and will of the soul. (152)

He is careful to join affections to the will. This seems somewhat strange to the modern reader who would naturally associate ‘affections’ with ‘emotions’, which are considered beyond our (conscious) control. I believe this fact will be important to bear in mind as we continue through the book, and I am sure I will regularly need to remind myself of it.

Having defined ‘affections’, Edwards proceeds to draw the link between ‘affections’ and ‘true religion’. As the first step towards this goal, he marshals a number of Scriptures that command particular affections: fervour (Rom 12:11), love and fear (Deut 6:4, 6; 10:12) etc. His emphasis here is not so much on the affections themselves, but on their magnitude. His conclusion is that,

everyone that has the power of godliness in his heart, has his inclinations and heart exercised towards God and divine things, with such strength and vigor that these holy exercises do prevail in him above all carnal or natural affections, and are effectual to overcome them. (229)

Edwards also notes the central role that affections have in prompting actions; in other words, he argues that ‘the affections of men are the springs of… motion’ (241). The logic here is an enthymeme, with the unstated minor premise that true religion consists of actions, which may be readily granted. Thus the argument is that:

Affections are necessary for actions.
[Actions are necessary for true religion.]
Therefore affections are necessary for true religion.

The third argument Edwards offers in favour of linking affections and true religion is that ‘the things of religion take hold of men’s souls, no further than they affect them’ (250). This is an inductive argument, based on Edwards’ observations of human behaviour. As such, it is not as strong as some of the other arguments put forward, but in conjunction with the others it has a cumulative force.

Argument 4 is, in some ways, similar to the first argument but in greater depth. Edwards here traces such specific affections as hope, hatred for sin, holy desires and longings, joy, sorrow, mercy and zeal. He then builds on this argument by noting the central place given in the Scriptures to love as the ‘fountain of all other affections’ (335).

Having considered the indicatives of Scripture pertaining to affections, Edwards turns in argument 6 to the example of specific biblical characters: David, Paul and John. From there, it is only natural to consider the example of the Lord Jesus, who ‘was a person who was remarkably of a tender and affectionate heart; and [whose] virtue was expressed very much in the exercise of holy affections’ (422).

Argument 8 rests on Edwards’ interpretation of the ‘heavenly state’, and owing to its speculative nature this is the weakest of the arguments he advances. Certainly, the intent is admirable: ‘The way to learn the true nature of anything, is to go where that thing is to be found in its purity and perfection’ (471); it is just that the available evidence doesn’t allow confidence in the sweeping generalisations that Edwards makes.

Edwards then notes the affective nature of the ‘ordinances and duties, which God hath appointed, as means and expressions of true religion’ (477). In particular, he considers prayer, singing praises to God, the sacraments and preaching. Each of these, according to Edwards, is designed with a view to raising the affections.

Finally, Edwards points out the frequent correlation in Scripture of sin and ‘hardness of heart’. The reasoning is that if sin is to be equated with hardness of heart, then the negation of sin (true religion) is to be equated with the negation of hardness of heart (affections).

With these arguments expounded, Edwards concludes: ‘Upon the whole, I think it clearly and abundantly evident, that true religion lies very much in the affections’ (541).

From this conclusion, Edwards draws three specific inferences. Firstly, those who devalue religious affections as insubstantial are wrong; indeed, affections are (at least) as essential as doctrine. There is a balance to be maintained, and falling into either extreme is equivalent to death: ‘As there is no true religion where there is nothing else but affection, so there is no true religion where there is no religious affection’ (575). The second inference is that we should desire means of moving the affections. Such means might include ‘books… preaching the word… administration of ordinances… worshipping God in prayer, singing praises’ (595) etc. Edwards’ third and final inference from his conclusion that true religion and religious affections are essential to one another is that we ought to be ashamed for our general lack of affections.

Q: Is the section true, in whole or part?

Edwards offers a strong argument. Once we accept his definition of ‘affections’ (over against more modern interpretations) his examples from Scripture are compelling. As noted previously, some of his arguments from his speculative construction of the ‘heavenly state’ are misguided, but these form only a minor plank in an otherwise very sturdy bridge.

Q: What of it?

As mentioned earlier, the topic of this section seems of immediate importance to the author, placed as he was in the midst of the Great Awakening. It was very important to him to be able to distinguish between religious affection and psychological hype. No doubt he was forced to defend against the naysayers who declared the movement he was a part of to be the latter rather than the former.

For us, too, there is a tendency to reject the emotions in favour of the mind. I can trace this tendency in myself all the way back to my conversion. I became a Christian at a holiday camp run at Stanwell Tops. Picture, if you will, a 6 foot tall 10 year old at a camp called… ‘Mini Midgets’! This was my first real exposure to Christian camping, or ‘contemporary’ Christian music. I didn’t know you could have church music played on electric guitars and drums! One night during the week, we were singing a praising God, and I felt the immediate presence of God in a way I never had before. Yet I refused to say anything or do anything about it until I’d had a chance to think it over. Even at that age, I had a suspicion of anything that was driven in the first instance by emotion; I needed to make sure that it made sense. That’s the way I’m wired.

To this day, I am suspicious of a certain kind of music, a certain kind of prayer, a certain kind of preaching etc. But I am also learning, slowly, that it is OK – no, as Edwards points out, it is right! – to be affected by things. We had a men’s weekend away just recently, and a number of people shared from their life stories. In a couple of cases the stories were tragic indeed, and once I found tears pouring down my cheeks as a man described sitting on the floor after school explaining to his kids (aged 11 – 4) that their mum had passed away from cancer while they were at school. There was a time when I would have been ashamed of that response, but I am learning that it is both the privilege and the responsibility of Christians to ‘Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn’ (Rom 12:15).

What Edwards teaches me in this section is that this is to be more than just a passive response; the affections are to be active. They are ‘vigorous and sensible exercises of the inclination and will of the soul’ (152). We are to incline ourselves towards being ‘affected’ by the things of God, and the things which ‘affect’ God (or, more precisely, which God allows to affect him). Paul offers an imperative – rejoice! mourn! – not just an invitation.

Further, I find that I am ashamed (as Edwards says I ought to be) that I am too little affected by the things I ought to be, and too much affected by other things. One is reminded of C. S. Lewis’ observation in Weight of Glory:

It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

Even today, I have worked extra hours to derive satisfaction from having done my job well… but at what expense? I got to see my kids for all of 10 mins at either end of the day. I admire my friends’ passion for social justice, but find it difficult to be similarly affected. I read my Bible and am often left unchanged because I do it as an exercise in discipline or academics instead of a meeting with the Creator and Saviour of the world.

I look forward to reading what solutions Edwards has to offer, but I know – I know! – that the starting place is prayer. Please God, give me first the desire coupled with the will to pray, so that as I peer into your heart mine will be drawn along to the same place!

It has sometimes been said that the great ‘therefores’ of Romans neatly outline the themes of the epistle.¹ In chapter 5, Paul proclaims, ‘Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ’ (Rom 5:1); in chapter 8 he continues, ‘Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,’ (Rom 8:1). Each time he uses the word ‘therefore’, it is to introduce a new theme, yet one which builds on what has gone before.

It is no great surprise, then that when we get to chapter 12, he offers us another therefore:

‘Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God’ (Rom 12:1).

Here he is introducing a new section which is dedicated to explaining how the great and wonderful things that he has taught in the preceding chapters are translated into daily obedience. The ordering is very important; it is only now that Paul has firmly established the priority and necessity of God’s gracious working to free us from sin (‘we have been justified by faith’) and the condemnation that it would otherwise bring (‘there is now no condemnation’) that he introduces the subject of obedient works.

Just in case we miss the point, he lays special emphasis on what he has been saying before moving on to give instruction: ‘Therefore… in view of God’s mercy…’, referring back to all of Romans.

But what is it that Paul commands? I’m going to suggest that Paul’s instructions can be summarised in one word found in verse 2: ‘transformation’.

‘Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.’ (Rom 12:2)

There are two different kinds of change pictured here. The first is a change brought about by outward pressure from the world. We’ve all seen it; we’ve all felt it. The world has certain attitudes about sex, money, power, justice, relationships and so on, and anybody who does not fall into line with these feels tremendous pressure to change their ways to meet the norm. This could be called ‘adaptation’. But transformation is completely different, for it originates with God’s working on us from the inside rather than the world working on us from the outside. J. B. Phillips captures it nicely in his paraphrase of this verse: ‘Do not let the world squeeze you into its own mould, but let God re-make you so that your whole attitude of mind is changed’.

The specific object of this transformation is our minds. This is not altogether surprising, since we know that the way we think about our circumstances greatly changes both our attitudes and our actions.

This week our daughter, Elyana, has had a number of nights when she has been particularly grumpy in the evenings. I found that the way that I responded toward her at these times varied greatly, depending on what I was thinking about at the time. When I was thinking primarily about how inconvenient it all was that she should pick this week to be unsettled, when I was trying to write a sermon, and I was so tired, how dare she not go to sleep when I tell her to and I have done all the ‘right’ things and so on… guess what? I have to confess to you that there were two grumpy children in that room, one of whom is 30 years old!

But when I instead focused on my relationship to her, that this is my daughter whom I love, and who was clearly upset, I was able to show the tenderness and compassion that she needed. A renewed mind led to a transformation in my attitudes and actions.

When God renews a mind, the results are spectacular. Paul goes on to outline some of the consequences in three main areas: (1) our relationship with God; (2) our perception of ourself; and (3) our love for others.

A renewed mind transforms our relationship with God (vv. 1-2)

Let’s dive on into the passage then. The first thing that Paul commands in verse 1 is that we ‘offer [our] bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God’. This imagery would have been much more accessible to Paul’s Roman audience than it is to us, for ‘they had stood by their altar and watched as an animal was identified as their own, as it was slain in the ritual manner, its blood manipulated, and the whole or part of the victim burned on the altar and ascended in the flames to the deity they worshipped’.² Such sacrifices were required to be ‘without defect or blemish’ (Lev 22:21)³ in which case they would in the process of being sacrificed be made ‘holy and pleasing’ to the deity to which they were offered.

First century readers would also have spotted immediately the contradiction in terms – ‘living sacrifices’. For an animal sacrifice, by definition, was dead. What, then, does it mean to offer a ‘living sacrifice’? One commentator describes it like this:

The sacrifice of which Paul writes demands not the destruction but the full energy of life. It is positive and dynamic.⁴

Even though, as Paul has explained in chapter 7, the body contains much indwelling sin, he nevertheless emphasises the importance of offering the body to God. Our bodies – indeed, our entire lives! – are offered to him to use as he will.

Yet, the problem with ‘living sacrifices’ is that they have a tendency to crawl off the altar!⁵ It is only when our mind is renewed that our relationship with God can be transformed in such a way as to allow us to continually offer a living sacrifice.

When our mind is renewed, a second transformation occurs in our relationship with God. We begin to be able to understand and appreciate God’s will.

‘Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.’ (Rom 12:2)

‘Test and approve’ implies first-hand experience. I think we sometimes want to know God’s will from the outside, so that we can decide for ourselves whether it is really the right thing for us, or so that we can offer our own ‘helpful’ critiques and suggestions of things that God may have overlooked or could do better. But God’s will can only be understood and appreciated from the inside. The psalmist writes:

‘Taste and see that the LORD is good.’ (Ps 34:8a)

As the old saying says, ‘the proof is in the pudding’ – it is only by tasting that we see how good it is, only by taking the plunge into the river that we know its power. We are called to an active participation in God’s will, not just an objective assessment.

This can only be done with a renewed mind. Remember what Paul said back in chapter 1:

‘Since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done.’ (Rom 1:28)

Men and women rejected God, disregarding ‘the knowledge of God’, and as a result God ‘gave them over to a depraved mind’. But now, because God has renewed our minds, we can once more ‘test and approve’ God’s will.⁶

A renewed mind transforms our perception of ourself (vv. 3-8)

So, a renewed mind transforms our relationship with God, causing us to offer our bodies as living sacrifices, and enabling us to be active participants in God’s will, appreciating just how ‘good, pleasing and perfect’ it is. It also changes the way we perceive ourselves:

‘For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.’ (Rom 12:3)

There are two traps that we can fall into when thinking about ourselves. The first is that we think too highly of ourselves. But the phrase ‘more highly than you ought’ reminds us that there is a sense in which we ought to think highly of ourselves. How, then, are we to achieve the right course in between these two extremes? Paul’s answer is that we must consider our place in the body of Christ.

‘Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.’ (Rom 12:4–5)

A couple of ideas are prominent here. Firstly, the image of the body highlights the diversity of the members. Each member of our bodies has a role that it is uniquely suited to fulfil. In rare cases, other parts of the body may be able to compensate for a time, such as when muscles provide some stability to joints when ligaments fail, or when other organs take on the functions of a removed spleen. But the body is inevitably weaker than it would otherwise be when this happens, since these members are operating outside of the areas that they are particularly suited to.

Paul develops this idea in verses 6-8.

‘We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man’s gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.’ (Rom 12:6–8)

We don’t have time to consider each of the gifts Paul lists here, but we need to note that this list is representative rather than comprehensive. In other words, don’t worry if you don’t see your particular gift or gifts listed here; that does not mean that you have no gift to offer. On the contrary, every member of the body of Christ has some gift to offer; and if they don’t offer it then the body suffers. And this brings us to the second idea that the imagery of the body gives us: unity.

‘In Christ we who are many form one body and each member belongs to all the others.’ (Rom 12:5)

What does it mean that ‘each member belongs to all the others’?

John Murray says of Christians, “They have property in one another and therefore in one another’s gifts and graces.” It would be correct to add that you, as a Christian, have a right to the gifts the other members of the body have been given, and they have a right to your gift. You cheat them if you do not use it, and you are poorer if you do not depend on them.⁷

I think most of us are mistaken in the way we exercise our gifts. We think that our calling is to be as self-sufficient as we can. We want to make sure we have taken care of our needs and those of our family etc., and only then do we offer our excess time, energy and gifts for the benefit of the church at large.

But this is wrong.

If, instead, we were to allow others to serve us in their areas of strength, all of a sudden we would have more time and energy to exercise our own gifts to serve others! Perhaps you can cook a meal for someone, which will free some time for them to clean for someone else, who can in turn mind someone else’s kids… and so on. Each is then spending more time working in their area of gifting, and less in the areas that they are not gifted for, and which are therefore more draining.

For this to work, we need to be willing to both offer our gifts AND to be willing to ask for and receive help from others.

Let me ask two questions, then. (1) Are you exercising your gift or gifts as part of the body of Christ? and (2) Are you relying upon other members of the body to use their gifts on your behalf? If the answer to either of these is no, then the body is weakened… and the mind needs to be renewed.

A renewed mind transforms our love for others (vv. 9-21)

This brings us nicely to the third and final section in this passage, that deals with the way we relate to other people. I am going to group my comments on these verses into 3 categories: (1) our attitudes; (2) our actions; and (3) our reactions.

Firstly, our attitudes towards other people. I already shared with you some of the differences that a renewed mind make to attitudes; in verses 9-12 Paul describes some of the characteristic attitudes that are associated with a renewed mind. These include sincere love; a hate for that which is evil and a desire for that which is good; devotion toward one another, honouring one another; zeal and fervour; joy; patience in affliction; and faithful prayer. As with the gifts we skipped over earlier, we don’t really have time to consider all of these in detail, so I will just make one general observation.

All of these attitudes are possible for the unrenewed mind… for a time. But it is only with a mind renewed by God that they become consistent and characteristic. So the unrenewed mind may ‘love’, but that love quickly degenerates into insincerity unless it flows out of love for God. Similarly, zeal that is born out of human capacities rapidly fades, but the zeal of a renewed mind is constantly refreshed as we consider God’s mercies toward us.

The next four verses speak of the actions we are to take toward other people:

‘Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.’ (Rom 12:13–16)

Notice how each of these actions runs against the grain of what the world would recommend. Share, where the world says hoard. Be hospitable, not just to your friends (who will be hospitable in return) but with those are not able to return the favour (Luke 14:12-14). Bless, where the world curses. Enter into both the joy and grief of others, where the world teaches us to envy their joy and pity their grief.
In short, ‘Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.’ (Rom 12:2).

Finally, Paul shows us how a renewed mind responds to the actions of others:

‘Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.’ (Rom 12:17–21)

The first and last verses of this section describe the two alternatives. The unrenewed mind seeks to overcome evil by responding with evil, particularly revenge. The renewed mind, however, acknowledges that revenge is God’s right, and his only. As we know from Romans 3, all have sinned, which means that all have incurred God’s wrath. Any evil that is perpetrated against us is, therefore, only the latest in a long line of atrocities against God (not us), and it is God’s decision how to respond. He does so in one of two ways: either that person is in Christ, in which case their sin is paid for, God’s wrath has been expended upon Jesus, and ‘there is now no condemnation’ (Rom 8:1); or he will impose judgment, expending his wrath upon them directly. In either case, we have no business taking our own petty revenge.

Instead, we are called to ‘overcome evil with good’. Providing for the needs of our enemies, blessing them (which means to pray will bring good to them) rather than cursing them, is the response of the renewed mind. As a result of doing this, we will ‘heap burning coals on [their] head’, a phrase intended to signify bringing them to repentance. Without doubt, the best result for everyone is for our enemies to repent and seek Christ, so that they need not face God’s wrath on their own. In this way, also, we may gain a brother or sister for ourselves.

Conclusion

What shall we say in conclusion then? It is clear that the renewal of the mind has (and is supposed to have) far-reaching consequences. It is, first of all, to transform our relationships with God, leading us to offer our bodies as living sacrifices and to test and approve God’s will. When we have done those things, we will begin to perceive ourselves in a different way, being enabled to think of ourselves and our gifts with sober judgment. Then, and only then, are we able to relate properly with other people, with transformed attitudes, actions and reactions.

I have one final warning and encouragement. Transformation is not just an individual thing; it requires Christian community if it is to be truly effective. Yes, God is the one who does the transforming, and we should certainly pray that he continues to do so. But his usual method of doing so involves other believers. It is in the church that we learn most and most truly about God, ourselves, and the world. It is in Christian community that we are given opportunity to develop our gifts, to serve one another, to form lasting relationships with God and each other. It is with other believers that we are best able to test and approve God’s will.

So, West Pennant Hills Community Church, the challenge for us this week is to seize every opportunity to encourage one another to be transformed in our attitudes, actions and reactions towards one another. Let us serve one another with the gifts that God has given us, depending on them to serve us in return. Let us offer our body – this body of Christ – as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God in a joint act of spiritual worship. May we not be conformed to the pattern of this world any longer, but let us be truly transformed by the renewing of our mind.

Amen.

Bibliography

Boice, James Montgomery. Romans. 4 vols. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book House, 1991.
Dawn, Marva J. Truly the Community : Romans 12 and How to Be the Church. Grand Rapids, Mich.: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1997.
Moo, Douglas J. The Epistle to the Romans. Grand Rapids, Mich.: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co, 1996.
Morris, Leon. The Epistle to the Romans. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1988.

Endnotes

1. See, for example, Marva J. Dawn, Truly the Community: Romans 12 and How to Be the Church (Grand Rapids, Mich.: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1997), 7.
2. Leon Morris, The Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1988), 433.
3. For instructions on the kinds of sacrifices the Israelites were to offer, see Exod 12:5; 29:1; Lev 1:3, 10; 3:1, 6; 4:3, 23, 28, 32; 5:15, 18; 6:6; 9:2; 14:10; 22:19, 21; 23:12, 18; Num 6:14; 19:2; 28:3, 9, 11, 19, 31; 29:2, 8, 13, 17, 20, 23, 26, 29, 32, 36; Ezek 43:22, 25; 45:18, 23; 46:4, 6, 13. cf. Eph 5:27; Col 1:22; 1 Pet 1:19.
4. Ibid., 434.
5. Dawn, Truly the Community : Romans 12 and How to Be the Church, 23.
6. Douglas J. Moo, The Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids, Mich.: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co, 1996), 757. Moo notes particularly the use of ἀδόκιμος (‘depraved’) in 1:28 in comparison to δοκιμάζω (‘approve’) in 12:2.
7. James Montgomery Boice, Romans, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book House, 1991), 1582.

Have you ever read through the book of Acts looking for the ideal way to proclaim the gospel? Frustrating isn’t it? Sometimes the gospel was proclaimed to thousands in one go (2:14-41); at other times to one man travelling alone (8:26-40). On some occasions it was in response to particular need (3:1-10) or revelation of the spirit (16:9-10); other times it was defending the gospel in front of riotous crowds (22:1-21), courts of law (4:8-12) or even kings and emperors (26:1-29). In marketplaces, synagogues, private homes, and by the river the gospel was proclaimed… and each time the circumstances were a little different. There was one message, but many methods of presenting it, each tailored to the context.

Over the next five weeks we will consider a number of common contexts in which the gospel may (must!) be proclaimed today. But please don’t fall into the trap of passive listening! A preacher can talk about the gospel in the workplace… but they cannot tell you how to apply that to your workplace. Nobody knows your family, your school or uni, your friends and neighbours – in short, your context – quite the way you do. So if the gospel is to be promoted and proclaimed in your life, then you are going to have to prayerfully translate words into actions. In this, you will be following the Apostle Paul, who wrote:

‘I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings’ (1 Cor 9:22-23).

The observation of the Teacher, that ‘Of making many books there is no end’ (Eccl 12:12), is undoubtedly true. Yet when it comes to thoughtful expositions of the gospel, this is to be considered a blessing rather than a curse. Such an exposition is Scot McKnight’s The King Jesus Gospel.¹ Thus, I am glad of the opportunity afforded me by Zondervan to review this book.

Summary

McKnight opens his book by relating his initial experiences in evangelism, noting that many churches and programs focus on decisions rather than discipleship. But decisions don’t necessarily lead to discipleship! In fact, the ‘conversion rate’ (no pun) is < 50%. So... what makes faith stick?

In chapter 1, McKnight contends that the gospel has been incorrectly equated with personal salvation. He offers three symptoms of this: (1) a Christian who cannot comprehend how the Messiahship of Jesus is ‘good news'; (2) that John Piper feels the need to defend the notion that Jesus taught justification, even though there are only a few references to justification in the Gospels; (3) one pastor believes that Jesus could not have taught the ‘gospel’, as it can only be understood this side of the Cross, Resurrection and Pentecost.

McKnight develops this in chapter 2, drawing a distinction between a salvation (or ‘soterian’) culture and a gospel culture. The salvation culture is framed around questions of “in or out?” Such a culture is an advance on nominalism, requiring personal profession of faith; yet it does not intrinsically lead to discipleship. McKnight equates much of modern evangelicalism with this kind of salvation culture.

Chapter 3 distinguishes four different things commonly associated with ‘gospel': (1) the story of Israel; (2) the story of Jesus; (3) the plan of salvation; and (4) the method of persuasion. He suggests that these items should build on each other in this order; but that we typically reverse the order. Finally, he signals his intention to argue that only sense (2) should be equated with ‘gospel’.

McKnight moves to considering the ‘apostolic gospel’ in chapter 4. The starting point for understanding the gospel, he argues, is 1 Cor. 15. When we do so we find that the apostolic gospel centers on the story of Jesus. He then interacts with N. T. Wright’s What Saint Paul Really Said and Greg Gilbert’s What Is The Gospel?, before issuing a final warning that a plan of salvation divorced from the story becomes ‘abstract, propositional, logical, rational, and philosophical and, most importantly, de-storified and unbiblical’ (62).

In chapter 5, McKnight argues that the Reformation doctrine of justification by faith alone – though right and good in and of itself – has had the effect of transforming a gospel culture into a salvation culture. In support of this, he traces several of the early church creeds, then compares them with the Reformation Creeds, finding that the emphasis has shifted from the story of Christ to the story of an individual’s salvation. He then borrows from Dallas Willard to characterise this kind of focus on personal salvation as a “gospel of sin management”.

McKnight makes the (somewhat obvious) point in chapter 6 that the Gospels declared ‘the Story of Israel as resolved in the story of Jesus’ (79). Thus, they fit McKnight’s definition of ‘gospel’ without having to proclaim personal salvation or justification by faith.

In the next chapter, McKnight traces a number of passages in the Gospels where Jesus preaches the kingdom of God, and himself the king of it. Jesus, says McKnight, makes a number of points about the Kingdom: (1) that it was breaking into history; (2) that it brought a new society in the land; (3) a new citizenship; (4) that it is the kingdom of God; and (5) that Jesus himself is at the centre of this kingdom. McKnight follows this up by considering the interplay between Jesus and his cousin John, and how they each viewed their own and the other’s roles in scriptural terms. Finally, he canvasses several ‘look at me’ passages, where Jesus calls attention to his own role in the Kingdom.

Surveying the apostolic preaching in the book of Acts (chapter 8), McKnight finds that the gospel is repeatedly framed in terms of the story of Israel, rather than the story of salvation.

McKnight then draws six points of comparison between apostolic and contemporary ‘gospeling’. Apostolic gospeling thus: (1) summons people to submit to the lordship of Christ, rather than to a personal salvation; (2) is framed by the Story of Israel, rather than the salvation/atonement story; (3) contains a message of wrath and judgment, even though this is not the focus; (4) addresses the problem of lordship, rather than that of justification; (5) was not intentionally or consciously subversive of the Roman Empire; (6) talked first and always about Jesus.

In the final chapter, McKnight concludes his book by presenting his summary of the content of the gospel. He then argues that a gospel culture will flow out of this gospel only if we immerse ourselves in the biblical story and, more specifically, the story of Jesus and the story of the church. In addition, we need to develop counter stories that will oppose the stories of our culture – the many ‘-isms’ of contemporary society – for which McKnight offers Eucharist and Baptism as examples. Finally we must embrace the story, making it our own and being thoroughly transformed and converted by it. If we do these things we will promote a gospel culture.

Analysis

McKnight has in this work made a number of insightful observations concerning the state of the evangelical church and its presentation of the gospel. In particular his fourfold distinction of different senses in which the word ‘gospel’ is used – the story of Israel, the story of Jesus, the plan of salvation and the method of persuasion – is a very useful framework for discussing the nature and content of the gospel. Using this framework, McKnight also brings a much-needed reminder that the gospel is not merely the culmination of the story of the individual (the plan of salvation) but is also the culmination of the story of Israel. Though few within evangelical circles would wish to deny this, McKnight’s work reminds us that this has (or should have) implications for the way we promote and proclaim the gospel.

Yet McKnight’s exposition of precisely what these implications are is not entirely convincing. He is at great pains to show that the gospel cannot, ultimately, be divided from the story of Israel, and this is true. But McKnight goes further, claiming that the ‘apostolic gospel’ is framed ‘not so much salvation as the Story of Israel coming to completion in the Story of Jesus’ (131), and that therefore our gospel presentations (in particular our ‘method of persuasion’) should not be separated from this story. So,

When the plan gets separated from the story, the plan almost always becomes abstract, propositional, logical, rational, and philosophical and, most importantly, de-storified and unbiblical. When we separate the Plan of Salvation from the story, we cut ourselves off the story that identifies us and tells our past and tells our future. We separate ourselves from Jesus and turn the Christian faith into a System of Salvation. (62)

It is here that McKnight’s analysis needs refinement; in particular, the content and method of the Apostle Paul’s teaching is under-represented.

McKnight takes 1 Corinthians 15 to be ‘the apostolic gospel tradition’ (46), that is, a summary of the earliest apostolic teaching about the gospel. His reasoning is that verses 3-8 of this passage have the appearance of being a pre-formed tradition that predates Paul himself (a theory to which a majority of NT scholars would likely subscribe), and that Paul declares this to be ‘the gospel I gospeled’ (1 Cor 15:1; τὸ εὐαγγέλιον ὃ εὐηγγελισάμην ὑμῖν). Further, the repeated phrase ‘according to the Scriptures’ (κατὰ τὰς γραφὰς) is taken to be a reference to the larger Story of Israel. Yet to define this passage as coterminous with Paul’s gospel is to neglect the possibility that Paul is speaking only of that strand of his teaching related to the resurrection, the subject of his larger discourse in this chapter. Further, one searches the rest of the chapter in vain for specific scriptural references, save those that speak of Adam (45ff.). Where, then, is the Story of Israel, of Abraham’s progeny, in this gospel?

Some other Pauline texts referenced by McKnight are found in Appendix 1, notably Romans 1:1-4; 3:21-26; Phil 2:5-11; Col 1:15-20; 1 Tim 3:16; 2 Tim 2:8. Of these, the first and last refer to the Jewish ancestry of Jesus (‘descendant of David’ / ‘descended from David’), whilst the others make general comments about the life of Jesus without attempting to root them in the overall Story of Israel. Is Paul, then, guilty of making the gospel, ‘abstract, propositional, logical, rational, and philosophical and, most importantly, de-storified and unbiblical’?

Perhaps most striking of all is Paul’s Areopagus address (Acts 17:16-34), which McKnight refers to in chapter 8. He claims: ‘From Peter’s world-transforming sermon in Acts 2 to Paul’s sermon on the Areopagus in Acts 17, it was the Story of Israel that shaped how they gospeled.’ Yet it is difficult to see how this address is ‘shaped’ by the Story of Israel. Yes, Paul refers to God’s creation of the earth, but there is little else that may be said to be specifically Jewish. Indeed, McKnight himself acknowledges this a little later on: ‘Paul’s audience surely didn’t know enough of Israel’s Story to know what to make of this Jewish Jesus. So Paul starts where they are.’ (126) Paul, then, feels free to present the gospel without framing it in terms of the Story of Israel. In fact, where Paul does refer to the specifics of the Israelite narrative (e.g. Gal 3-4) it often seems to be in response to some initiative on the part of his addressees (e.g. interaction with Judaisers in Galatia).

Thus, caution is required in considering McKnight’s conclusions as applied to gospeling. There is still a place for presenting the gospel in terms of the Plan of Salvation, much in the same way that physics teachers first teach Bohr’s model of the atom rather than starting with the complexities of quantum mechanics. The latter is a more complete picture, it is true, but it is too large a jump in knowledge to start there. So with the gospel: the Plan of Salvation is graspable with minimal background knowledge, where attaining knowledge of the Story of Israel takes longer to grasp. Yet we may be grateful to McKnight for the reminder that it is not the entire Story.

Endnotes

1. McKnight, Scot. The King Jesus Gospel: The Original Good News Revisited. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2011.