In Romans 8:28, Paul wrote: “we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” What does Paul mean by this verse? Does he mean that every cloud has a silver lining; that there is a pot at the end of every rainbow; that good guys (Christians) will not finish last in this life, as I have heard it quoted to mean? Or does Paul mean something deeper, more meaningful and significant?
In chapter 8, Paul has been reassuring the Roman Christians of their status before God. He has told them that “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (8:1), the Spirit of God bears witness that we are children of God (8:16), we look forward to a heavenly glory with Christ (8:18), and the “Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (8:27). Furthermore, the passage certainly ends with a reassuring tone – “for I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (8:38-39).
In light of the context of reassurance, it is clear that Paul means for vs. 28 to be reassuring as well. However, in what way does it provide reassurance? I think we need to begin with vs. 30 and work backwards. Those who have received God’s justification will receive God’s glorification. We will be glorified with Christ, who is our glorified Lord. The reason that we are glorified is because, according to vs. 29, God’s purpose for those who are justified is that they will be conformed to the image of Christ. So, “those who are called according to God’s purpose” (vs. 28) are the same ones who are to be “conformed to the image of his Son” (vs.29).
It seems to me, then, that the “good” that is being worked out for those who love God has something to do with the purpose for which they were called, i.e. formation to the image of Christ. In other words, vs. 28 does not mean that everything is going to work out in a way that we would define as good – no suffering, no problems, material comfort, healthy families – but rather that God will work through all that happens to us to accomplish his purpose of conforming us to the image of Christ.
Being transformed into the image of Christ sounds all well and good, but let us remember that Christ’s glorification came after his humiliation on the cross. Does that mean that we will suffer the same fate? Yes and no. It is very likely that we will not be subjected to physical torture and crucifixion. However, being conformed to the image of Jesus means that we live increasingly self-sacrificial lives of service to others. This is a life that will not necessarily make us happy or comfortable. It is a life, though, that will bring us fulfillment, peace, and the calm assurance that we will be glorified with Christ when he comes again.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
A Reflection on Matthew 13:24-30 &36-43
The gospel reading for this past Sunday, taken from Matthew 13:24-30, is commonly referred to as the parable of the wheat and the weeds. You know the story.
A landowner planted wheat in his field but weeds got sown in amongst it by an enemy. The zealous and well-intentioned slaves wanted to weed out all the weeds but the master forbids any pre-harvest weeding for fear that they slaves will unknowingly root out the wheat with the weeds (apparently, this fear was prompted by the fact that the weeds could not be correctly distinguished from the wheat until the time of the harvest, when the difference was obvious by their fruit, a point worthy of further consideration).
What are we to make of this story, particularly of the master’s anti-weeding command, which, for me, is the major point of the parable?
Peter, James, John and the crew were a lot like us. They were excited about the new kingdom that Jesus was heralding, excited about the new way of life that he was espousing, and excited about their place in the new order that he was creating. But also like us, they got excited about judging who was worthy to be in Jesus’ new world order. I can imagine them sitting around and trying to decide who gets to be a part of their crew and who doesn’t. “Don’t let that Samaritan woman in,” I imagine them saying to Jesus, “she is a sinner.” “That guy can’t be a part of our group, he’s an adulterer.” I can even imagine what they would say if they were with us today. “They can’t be a part of our church, they are too different. They are sinful, don’t have the right doctrine…they don’t even know what 728b really means!”
Jesus, however, was not about to be hemmed in by his disciples expectations about who was worthy of his love and acceptance. In fact, I imagine that some of Jesus’ choices for who got to be in the crew were a bit discombobulating for old Peter and the gang; I know it was for his other religious contemporaries – they contemptuously dismissed him as a man who ate with tax collectors and sinners.
But isn’t this the point? The kingdom is not our kingdom, it is God’s kingdom. It is not for us to decide who is a wheat and who is a weed. Sometimes wheat can look like weeds, and sometimes weeds can look like wheat. Jesus seeks to remind us that it is not our job to go weeding in God’s garden. Let God be responsible for making the decision of who is in or out – after all, God is God and he reserves that right for himself. Instead, our job is to simply love all comers.
Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners – he ate with those who looked awful weedy because he knew how special they were in God’s sight. So let the word ring forth that Cahaba Valley is a place that welcomes all people – we will love them all because we were once blind, but now we see…we were once outcast, but now we are home…we once had the smell of weeds about us, but now we are wheat.
Let those who have ears hear.
A landowner planted wheat in his field but weeds got sown in amongst it by an enemy. The zealous and well-intentioned slaves wanted to weed out all the weeds but the master forbids any pre-harvest weeding for fear that they slaves will unknowingly root out the wheat with the weeds (apparently, this fear was prompted by the fact that the weeds could not be correctly distinguished from the wheat until the time of the harvest, when the difference was obvious by their fruit, a point worthy of further consideration).
What are we to make of this story, particularly of the master’s anti-weeding command, which, for me, is the major point of the parable?
Peter, James, John and the crew were a lot like us. They were excited about the new kingdom that Jesus was heralding, excited about the new way of life that he was espousing, and excited about their place in the new order that he was creating. But also like us, they got excited about judging who was worthy to be in Jesus’ new world order. I can imagine them sitting around and trying to decide who gets to be a part of their crew and who doesn’t. “Don’t let that Samaritan woman in,” I imagine them saying to Jesus, “she is a sinner.” “That guy can’t be a part of our group, he’s an adulterer.” I can even imagine what they would say if they were with us today. “They can’t be a part of our church, they are too different. They are sinful, don’t have the right doctrine…they don’t even know what 728b really means!”
Jesus, however, was not about to be hemmed in by his disciples expectations about who was worthy of his love and acceptance. In fact, I imagine that some of Jesus’ choices for who got to be in the crew were a bit discombobulating for old Peter and the gang; I know it was for his other religious contemporaries – they contemptuously dismissed him as a man who ate with tax collectors and sinners.
But isn’t this the point? The kingdom is not our kingdom, it is God’s kingdom. It is not for us to decide who is a wheat and who is a weed. Sometimes wheat can look like weeds, and sometimes weeds can look like wheat. Jesus seeks to remind us that it is not our job to go weeding in God’s garden. Let God be responsible for making the decision of who is in or out – after all, God is God and he reserves that right for himself. Instead, our job is to simply love all comers.
Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners – he ate with those who looked awful weedy because he knew how special they were in God’s sight. So let the word ring forth that Cahaba Valley is a place that welcomes all people – we will love them all because we were once blind, but now we see…we were once outcast, but now we are home…we once had the smell of weeds about us, but now we are wheat.
Let those who have ears hear.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
A Reflection on Romans 8:1-11
This past Sunday’s epistolary reading, which began by asserting that there is “no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1), seems to begin a discussion about justification. However, after vs. 1, Paul moves from the language of justification (salvation) to the language of sanctification (the process by which we begin to increasingly display Christ’s image in our). I am left with the clear impression in reading the passage (Rom. 8:1-17) that my salvation is somehow tied to how I live. When we walk according to the Spirit, which we are able to do because of Christ’s death on the cross (8:3-4), we fulfill the righteous requirement of the law that we had previously been unable to do. Paul then tells us that we can either live according to the flesh or according to the Spirit – fleshly living brings death, spiritly living brings life and peace (8:6; see also 8:13, “if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live”).
So how do we live by the Spirit? 8:5 says that we do it by setting our mind on the things of the Spirit. But how does one set one’s mind? Is this simply an act of the will? May it never be! Rather, setting the mind on the Spirit involves becoming in tune with the Spirit; it is about engaging in spiritual practices – fasting, prayer, meditation, hospitality, reflecting on scripture, etc. – that put us in the position of being increasingly open to the leadings of the Spirit within us (8:9-11). In other words, they help us get “us” out of the way so that we can live more like Christ. To put it bluntly, obedience and holy living have been and always will be hallmarks of Christian discipleship.
I still affirm justification by grace through faith and that salvation is the free gift of God. But I also believe that God expects us to “work out” our salvation (Phil. 2:12) in a way that honors the work of Christ and the Spirit on our behalf. We would like for grace by faith and good works to be two distinctly different categories. But the message of Romans 8:1-17 is that they are inseparably linked in a way that is as mysterious as our God.
Thanks be to God for this indescribable gift!
So how do we live by the Spirit? 8:5 says that we do it by setting our mind on the things of the Spirit. But how does one set one’s mind? Is this simply an act of the will? May it never be! Rather, setting the mind on the Spirit involves becoming in tune with the Spirit; it is about engaging in spiritual practices – fasting, prayer, meditation, hospitality, reflecting on scripture, etc. – that put us in the position of being increasingly open to the leadings of the Spirit within us (8:9-11). In other words, they help us get “us” out of the way so that we can live more like Christ. To put it bluntly, obedience and holy living have been and always will be hallmarks of Christian discipleship.
I still affirm justification by grace through faith and that salvation is the free gift of God. But I also believe that God expects us to “work out” our salvation (Phil. 2:12) in a way that honors the work of Christ and the Spirit on our behalf. We would like for grace by faith and good works to be two distinctly different categories. But the message of Romans 8:1-17 is that they are inseparably linked in a way that is as mysterious as our God.
Thanks be to God for this indescribable gift!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Reflection on Romans 7:15-25
Here are a couple of selected phrases from Romans 7:15-25, a lectionary passage presented this past Sunday. Paul writes: I do not understand my own actions…sin dwells within me… I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.
Can this be the same Paul who just a chapter before told us that through baptism we died to sin, our old self has been crucified with Christ, and that we have been set free from sin?
Though some might disagree, I believe that Paul is writing from a unique Christian perspective about life. This kind of existential anguish comes from one who has already been accepted by and through Christ and already received the Spirit. Paul no longer speaks as the pious Pharisee, blowing the horn of his own righteousness, but rather he speaks as a believer who, in meeting Christ, has also come to grips with his own sin. Evidently conversion for Paul meant becoming aware as never before of the power of sin in his own life, not just as a power that has been broken and conquered, never to surface again, but as a power that still exerts tremendous influence over his current life in Christ.
Furthermore, Paul’s writing makes it clear that the frustration with an inability to do the right thing, in spite of the strong application of one’s will to the task, is not going to go away. Conversion enters you into a spiritual warfare for the status of your soul that will not go away until we are free from this mortal body. We are going to struggle with sin. The question is this: how will we respond to this struggle that exists within us? Perhaps the only thing that we can do is to stand before God, like the man in Jesus’ parable, with our heads bowed low, and say – “God have mercy on me, a sinner,” and then work on becoming a people who radically trust that God will not only forgive us, but make us righteous and instruments of grace that we can take to those around us.
Can this be the same Paul who just a chapter before told us that through baptism we died to sin, our old self has been crucified with Christ, and that we have been set free from sin?
Though some might disagree, I believe that Paul is writing from a unique Christian perspective about life. This kind of existential anguish comes from one who has already been accepted by and through Christ and already received the Spirit. Paul no longer speaks as the pious Pharisee, blowing the horn of his own righteousness, but rather he speaks as a believer who, in meeting Christ, has also come to grips with his own sin. Evidently conversion for Paul meant becoming aware as never before of the power of sin in his own life, not just as a power that has been broken and conquered, never to surface again, but as a power that still exerts tremendous influence over his current life in Christ.
Furthermore, Paul’s writing makes it clear that the frustration with an inability to do the right thing, in spite of the strong application of one’s will to the task, is not going to go away. Conversion enters you into a spiritual warfare for the status of your soul that will not go away until we are free from this mortal body. We are going to struggle with sin. The question is this: how will we respond to this struggle that exists within us? Perhaps the only thing that we can do is to stand before God, like the man in Jesus’ parable, with our heads bowed low, and say – “God have mercy on me, a sinner,” and then work on becoming a people who radically trust that God will not only forgive us, but make us righteous and instruments of grace that we can take to those around us.
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