The Lie of a Simple Benefit Program

I close my eyes to sleep and still see the faces of those 21 men on their knees, all with black-clad captors standing erect at their backs.  The orange of their prison jumpsuits is just so jarring in the monochrome beach setting with its calming ebb and flow of the white foamed surf.

The tide keeps coming in, going out.  The sun continues to rise and set as the news story sinks further down the page in Google, as if the world is just business as usual, as if nothing had changed.  And yet, for these Egyptian Christians, time has stopped and eternity begun.

When I tell my Wednesday night class the story of Moses and the Israelites in Egypt, I pause at the thought of the first Passover when all across the land of Egypt, mothers and fathers lost their firstborn sons to the angel of death passing over their houses.  The circumstances today are entirely different, but I can't help but think the land of Egypt is mourning once again, all the same.

I can't.  Won't.  Watch the video.  It is heart crushing enough just to know without sight.  Twenty one more martyrs in a civilized world.  Civilized.....

The Western world rocks itself to sleep at night in the comforting belief that this is over there, not here.  A wall of endless water separates ISIS from America. And yet, in our hearts, we know that is a lie.  The falling Twin Towers on 9/11 should have shattered that bedtime story,  but still it remains to wrap round us in intentional, sanity-saving ignorance. 

In those countries like mine not yet truly touched by life-threatening persecution such as this, we aren't counting the cost of Christianity.  Instead, we spend our days selling a Salvation Benefit Program where if you confess Jesus as your Lord and Savior, all will be right in your life--no money worries, health problems, marriage woes...

It's as if we fear that telling people the truth of the gospel will send them running.  And so, we sell salvation as a benefits package, much like fire insurance.  The result is a sea of people who claim Christianity because they "signed up" for the program, mentally confessed Jesus as Lord and acknowledged themselves sinners, but never demonstrated a true, saving faith in their lives because their hearts remained unchanged by this false gospel. 

Jesus' own disciples feared the gospel He preached was too difficult. They, too, wanted him to dumb it down so more people would become His disciples, not understanding Jesus' message that if a person's life didn't radically change by doing a complete 180, it wasn't possible to be His disciple.

In Luke, Jesus spoke difficult messages, saying, "If anyone comes to me, and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.  Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple" (Lk. 14:26-27).

Salvation through Jesus meant giving up everything to follow Him, and so He warned people to "calculate the cost" before choosing to follow Him (v. 28).  That cost, for Jesus, was a road of suffering that led to the cross; that cost for each man and woman who chose to follow Him would also be suffering and a daily taking up of his cross.

Jesus continued to teach how much a person must be willing to suffer for His sake: "Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me" (Jn. 6:53-57).  

Though strange, Jesus' words emphasized the seriousness of salvation.  He was inviting them into a covenant with Him, an eternally binding covenant where the person would pass through Jesus' body, itself, as the sacrifice, would eat the shared meal, and would lay down his individual desires in commitment to his covenant partner.  This was no program to sign up for and then discard.  This was a life altering commitment.

Jesus' disciples replied, "“This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?”" (v. 60).  In reply, Scripture says, "From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him" (v. 66).

When told the truth about what it meant to follow Jesus, many did choose to say "no" to His plan of salvation.  But those who chose to stay did so having been made aware of the cost, the truth of what it meant to follow Jesus and enter into His salvation.

The days of an easy salvation benefit program where all it takes is a prayer must end. If we wish to truly lead a person to Christ, we cannot do so under the pretense that all will be well on this earthly plane, that it is a simple decision.

As hard as it is to speak or write the words, we must communicate a true gospel of sacrifice where we may likewise be called upon to kneel in the sand and spill our life's blood in devotion to Jesus Christ.

Clinging to Our Circumstances

Some days, it seems like I'm trapped in an inescapable cycle that will only end when this life passes away.  For a time, things seem better.  Then, there is a settling of accounts, and I find myself walking in the same fossilized footprints from twelve months ago. Nothing had really changed.

"I just don't know what to do," I say, head lowered in defeat.

"There is nothing to do," my husband responds.  "God has taken care of us so far.  There's nothing to 'do' but trust He will continue this next year."

These are the times when I must choose to not let my emotions overrule what I know.  I can choose to feel trapped by my circumstances.  They can enslave me to living in fear or in defeat if I allow them to. Or I can choose a different path.

When I look back into Scripture, I see the children of Israel trapped as slaves in Egypt.  Literally.  There was no way out, or at least there seemed to be no escape from their oppression.  Ultimately, they did the only thing they could do: cry out to God:

"Now it came about in the course of those many days that the king of Egypt died. And the sons of Israel sighed because of the bondage, and they cried out; and their cry for help because of their bondage rose up to God. So God heard their groaning; and God remembered His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  God saw the sons of Israel, and God took notice of them" (Ex. 2:23-25).

This passage records two simple steps: (1) They cried out.  (2) God heard them.  The second step did not come about without the Israelites reaching the end of their own striving.  Only when they came to the end of themselves did they cry out to God, asking Him to provide a way out.

And God did hear and answer, sending Moses who spoke a message of deliverance to the Israelites: "I am the Lord, and I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will deliver you from their bondage. I will also redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great judgments...I will bring you to the land which I swore to give to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and I will give it to you for a possession" (Ex. 6:6,8). 

God would answer the Israelites' cries for help by redeeming them from their circumstances, but He wanted them to know He would do so because of the covenant He had established with their ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

God was communicating to this broken people that their redemption was sure because He had made a promise, which He would now fulfill because He is a covenant-keeping God.

The sad thing is the children of Israel did not believe the words.  Their bondage was so all-consuming that they were enslaved to it even once God had offered them a way out. Even with the promise of God's help--which they had asked for and were receiving--the children of Israel still clung to their bondage, to their circumstances, instead of to the covenant and God's promise.

Scripture says, "So Moses spoke thus to the sons of Israel, but they did not listen to Moses on account of their despondency and cruel bondage" (Ex. 6:9).

This begs the question of us--if we have called out to God in the midst of our circumstances, what are we clinging to? God has promised He will never leave nor forsake us.  He has promised all things work together for the good of those who love the Lord.  He has promised eternal life for those who live by faith in Him.  Yet, are we continuing to cling to our circumstances? To our bondage?  Or are we clinging to God's promises of redemption?

It's all too easy to cling to what we feel, to cling to what our circumstances are even if those are the very things we are begging God to help us escape from.  We cling with clenched hands because it's often hard to see beyond the here and now and simply let. go.

Still, like Moses, God has spoken words of victory over us.  He has called us to walk by faith in that victory, believing the promises He has given us in His Word and believing in Him as a God who never breaks His covenant promises.  Those are our two choices.




Image: Roots clinging to life in Nova Scotia.

Bearing the Permanent Marks

In The Blood Covenant, Clay Trumbull (a late 1800s clergyman) explores the concept of covenant, a binding agreement, and how it permeates cultures around the globe, even those not reached by modern Christianity. No matter how remote the culture, each one he encountered in his studies demonstrated understanding of the solemnity of "cutting covenant" with another.

From the darkest heart of the African Jungle to the deserts of the Middle East and on into Europe and Asia--cultures throughout time have shared many significant similarities when it comes to cutting covenants, from the sacrifice / shedding of blood (Gen. 15 & 31, Ex. 24) and partaking of a meal to the sharing of gifts and creating a visible sign to memorialize the covenant.

In one passage, Trumbull writes of African blood covenants as witnessed by Christian missionary and explorer Dr. Livingston: "Commander Cameron...gives several illustrations of the observance of this rite...'The first operation consisted of making an incision on each of their right wrists, just sufficient to draw blood; a little of which was scraped off and smeared on the other's cut; after which gunpowder was rubbed in [thereby securing a permanent token on the arm]'" (p. 15-16).

At first, this blood rite may not seem like anything found in the Old Testament. Yet, while the intentional maiming oneself and the co-mingling of literal blood may not be found in its pages, the intentional marking of one's body as a sign of covenant definitely is.

The second time God entered into covenant with Abraham, He gave two memorial signs--the changing of names and circumcision. God says, "No longer shall your name be called Abram, But your name shall be Abraham...This is My covenant, which you shall keep, between Me and you and your descendants after you: every male among you shall be circumcised. And you shall be circumcised in the flesh of your foreskin, and it shall be the sign of the covenant between Me and you....But an uncircumcised male who is not circumcised in the flesh of his foreskin, that person shall be cut off from his people; he has broken My covenant" (Gen. 17:5, 10-11,14).

The first memorial of this covenant is the changing of Abram and Sarai's name. Matthew Henry's Complete Commentary says, "Some think it added to the honour of Abraham’s new name that a letter of the name Jehovah was inserted into it, as it was a disgrace to Jeconiah to have the first syllable of his name cut off, because it was the same as the first syllable of the sacred name, Jer. 22:28 . Believers are named from Christ, Eph. 3:15."

What a beautiful depiction of how God's covenant would find its fulfillment later in the New Covenant, with God, Himself, inserting not merely the letter of His name into our names but His Spirit, Himself, within all Christians--Yahweh within us.

While the symbolism of this renaming is fulfilled by the Spirit residing within Christians, it seems there is still a literal re-naming of God's people. God tells His people that in the New Zion, "you will be called by a new name Which the mouth of the LORD will designate" (Is. 62:2). In the New Testament, the apostle John also alludes to those who enter into the New Covenant through the blood of Christ receiving an actual new name: "To him who overcomes, to him I will give...a white stone, and a new name written on the stone which no one knows but he who receives it"(Rev. 2:17)

The second memorial of covenant is the act of circumcision, where all male Israelites were to shed their own blood, symbolizing their being God's covenant people. This was a literal "cutting" of covenant; without the shedding of this blood, God is quite clear that those un-cut should be "cut off" from His people.

While the apostle Paul makes it clear that literal circumcision is no longer necessary for partakers of the New Covenant of faith since "circumcision is that which is of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter," he mentions other bodily scars as a reminder of his covenant with Christ Jesus, saying, "I bear on my body the brand-marks of Jesus" (Rom 2:29, Gal. 6:17). Here, Paul does not speak of his actual circumcision as a Jew but likely of scars from many beatings he endured while sharing the gospel. As one who often refers to Himself as the servant/slave of Christ, Paul also may be referring to himself (and other Christians by extension) as having a literal brand or "seal" similar to those that slaves would receive in ancient Rome...but if that is the case, then that's the subject of another post entirely.

One other interesting comparison is that in the blood covenant of Livingstone's Africans, both covenant partners would have had remaining visible scars. Similarly, God describes Himself as having cut His own palms to remind Himself of His covenant promises; He tells His chosen people, "Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands" (Is. 49:16).

While this Scripture does pertain directly to the Old Covenant, one need only look at Christ, Himself, to see the scars of the New Covenant that He still bears.

After His resurrection, Christ appears to His disciples with the scars of His sacrifice: "Then He said to Thomas, 'Reach here with your finger, and see My hands; and reach here your hand and put it into My side; and do not be unbelieving, but believing'" (Jn. 20:27). Even in Scripture's final vision of heaven, the apostle John makes sure to describe Christ as appearing with the scars of the New Covenant, as "a Lamb standing, as if slain" (Rev. 5:6).

Even in its non-religious uses in cultures around the globe, the historical understanding of covenant seems to show even more so that we modern-day Christians have lost our way simply because we have minimized what a covenant is supposed to be.

The marks on our Savior's body aren't just so someone can pick Him out of a lineup or a painting hanging in an art gallery. They are tokens of remembrance, marks of covenant...an everlasting one.




Published 08.07.11

The Greatest Exchange

I was only eleven when the television bled with an image of a pastor stumbling to his knees and raising tear-streaked face heavenward in public repentance for his sin of infidelity.  Such scandal required the ten second clip to be replayed at every opportunity, imprinting it on my memory.

Ever since, there has been a steady stream of religious leaders filling the airwaves with forced confessions when their sins are unearthed, so much so that the breaking news and confessions have become almost meaningless.

When a Senator from my own state was caught up in an illicit relationship a few years ago, my response wasn't outrage or shock but sadness and a shrug of the shoulders.  What else was new.  I, like many Americans, had become immune to the news that the mighty could easily fall.

Another response I have noted from the Christian community is not mere indifference but an intentional distancing themselves from a sinful world on the grounds that it is obeying God's command to not be "of the world."

The problem is that this attitude can quickly morph into disobedience to other Godly commands to go spread the gospel or to show mercy.  It can also grow almost overnight into pride, where it becomes all too easy for followers of Christ to just shake a disapproving head and turn their backs on the world to condemn it as "hopelessly lost" rather than, instead, to pray for, witness to, and reach out to lead this lost world to Jesus.

One way to stave off this tendency towards pride is to see who we really are in Christ's eyes.  To do this requires looking back at the initial covenant relationship formed when Christ imputed His righteousness on us as sinners and added us into His kingdom.

Last summer, I did a series here about the concept of covenant in Scripture.  In one of the articles, we explored probably the most well-known covenant between King Saul's son Jonathan and David.

Scripture says, "the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as himself. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, with his armor, including his sword and his bow and his belt" (1 Sam. 18:1b, 3-4).

Imagine Jonathan standing before David offering these gifts of covenant. David would have taken off his robe, the robe of a shepherd, one likely well-worn and pungent, perhaps even torn by jagged rocks on the hillside where he pastured his father's sheep or stained with the blood of wild animals he had slain to defend the flock. This was not a robe to be worn by a king or a prince.

Jonathan's robe, on the other hand, would have reflected his regal status, been made of the finest materials, unmarked by signs of manual labor. With this robe hanging from David's shoulders, everyone would know he was a friend of the King's son, that to make an enemy of David was to make an enemy of royalty.

In such regal apparel, it would have been easy for David to feel important, maybe even puff out his chest or stand just a little taller as he walked by the townspeople, knowing all eyes were upon him.  After wearing the robe for awhile, David might have even momentarily convinced himself that he deserved to wear it.

But if he ever had such prideful thoughts, all he had to do was look back at Jonathan, to look at a true king dressed in the rags of a shepherd boy.  With David's eyes on his covenant partner, there is no way David could have felt pride, but only humility and gratitude for this undeserved gift.

Such is the exchange we can imagine between us and Christ.

Scripture tells us "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Cor. 5:21).  Earlier, the prophet Isaiah said, "he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels" (Is. 61:10).

In the covenant relationship each person enters into with Christ, he or she is clothed in a robe of righteousness--CHRIST's robe of righteousness.

Yet, in the terms of the covenant, each covenant partner must give his robe to the other.  That means when Christ gave us His robes of righteousness, we, too, handed him our robes of sin, of unrighteousness.

Imagine standing before the Savior who has offered you this great gift of salvation.  He offers you a regal robe of righteousness.  You wrap it around your shoulders, beaming.  Yet, when you look up, Christ has slipped both arms into your ragged robes.  Sin weighs heavy on this King of heaven and earth, on the One who knew no sin, yet who became sin for you.

At this moment of conversion, when the new Christian's eyes are on Christ, it is impossible to feel pride in his elevated estate.  Instead, the Christian will feel humble, grateful, and merciful.  This is as it should be.

Yet, sometimes, our eyes stray from our covenant partner.  And that is when pride at our righteousness slips in.

When we take even the mildest pleasure in someone's downfall, when we look down on another for their blatant sin, when we elevate ourselves as worthy of Christ's salvation--we must recognize this as pride, look up into the eyes of our covenant partner and see the robe He took from us, the one we truly deserve to wear.