Atonement is not an end in itself

On the other hand, atonement is not an end in itself, any more than the judgement of sin and the expiation of guilt are ends in themselves. The purpose of atonement is to reconcile humanity back to God so that atonement issues in union between man and God, but it issues in union between man and God because the hypostatic union is that union already being worked out between estranged man and God, between man's will and God's will in the one person of Christ. It is the hypostatic union or hypostatic at-onement, therefore, which lies embedded in the very heart of atonement. All that is done in the judgement of sin, in expiation of guilt, in the oblation of obedience to the Father is in order to bring humanity back to union with God, and to anchor that union within the eternal union of the Son and the Father, and the Father and the Son, through the communion of the Holy Spirit.—T. F. Torrance, Incarnation: The Person and Life of Christ, 196

Are ye able?

268 Beacon Hill. Irregular.

1 "Are ye able," said the Master,
   "To be crucified with me?"
   "Yea," the sturdy dreamers answered,
   "To the death we follow Thee."

Refrain:
   Lord, we are able.
   Our spirits are Thine.
   Remold them, make us,
   Like Thee, divine.
   Thy guiding radiance
   Above us shall be
   A beacon to God,
   To love, and loyalty.

2 Are ye able to remember,
   When a thief lifts up his eyes,
   That his pardoned soul is worthy
   Of a place in paradise? [Refrain]

3 Are ye able when the shadows
   Close around you with the sod,
   To believe that spirit triumphs,
   To commend your soul to God? [Refrain]

4 "Are ye able?" Still the Master
   Whispers down eternity,
   And heroic spirits answer
   Now, as then, in Galilee. [Refrain]
                        Earl Marlatt
                         The Methodist Hymnal 1939 edition

<idle musing>
OK, this is getting to be a broken record. I must be really parochial in my upbringing, because this, again, was an old standby. The last two days have seen hymns in the 200–300 hymnal range. Seems I'm going in the wrong direction, because this one only occurs in 86 hymnals!

The author was even on a hymnbook committee, but that doesn't seem to have helped! Oh well. I like it and it's my blog, so I can post the ones I like—and I never really cared about how popular things are. Good thing, too, because if I did, I would have stopped blogging about 10 years ago (you should see how low my hits are now compared to then). :)

By the way, note that the chorus has the theosis theme in it. Maybe that's another reason I like it!
</idle musing>

But we see Jesus…

In short, what I have argued here in Romans 8:29-30 is that Paul sees that those conformed to the image of the Son are those who, though once participants in the Adamic submission to the powers of sin and death, now participate in the reign of the new Adam over creation. Mankind’s position on earth as God’s vicegerents to his creation is now restored, though now through the image of the Son of God, who reigns as God’s preeminent vicegerent. The depiction of humanity being crowned with glory and honor and established with dominion over creation in Psalm 8 is now again a reality, through both the Firstborn Son of God and those who participate in his exalted status, that is, his glory. Byrne notes that this is the “full arrival at the goal of God’s intent for human beings” in Romans 8:29. Those conformed to the image of God’s Son participate in the Firstborn Son’s sovereign position over creation as adopted members of God’s eschatological family and, as such, as a reglorified humanity.—Conformed to the Image of His Son, 226–27

What do you do with that εἰκόν [eikon] in Romans 8:29

How then should one understand Paul’s use of εἰκόν [eikon] in Romans 8:29? It should be noted first that, as Philip Hughes rightly suggests, τῆς εἰκόνος [tes eikonos] and τοῦ υἱοῦ [tou huiou] in Romans 8:29 should be taken as mutually explicative, so that the verse reads “be conformed to the image (that is) [God’s] Son” (see 1 Cor 15:49). The image is neither external to the Son nor an attribute of the Son that can theoretically be removed or replaced; the image is the Son himself, the perfect representation of Sonship.—Conformed to the Image of His Son, 193

<idle musing>
For those of you paying close attention, you'll see over a hundred page jump here from the last one. That's because she has been laying a lot of foundational and literature review work (it's a revised dissertation after all!) that, while important to the study, doesn't lend itself very well to extracting a paragraph here and there. I recommend you look at the book if you are really interested. A word of warning though: If you aren't quite proficient in Greek, you will have a terrible time of it! She quotes large sections of the LXX without translating it.
</idle musing>

The problem of "self-sufficiency"

The more practical and independent we are the more difficult it is to be reliant on God. We are so used to analyzing situations and working out solutions to problems that to abandon ourselves to God and be open to His grace seems almost like a cop-out and shirking responsibility. Many people find it near impossible to understand. Yet, it is necessary if we are to develop a partnership with God, and that is what spirituality essentially is. We can do nothing without God because He has the key to the complex mystery of our lives, but He also needs us to fulfill His own plans for the development of His creation, which by His intention is imperfect and incomplete. It is our function to help perfect His creation. He will not, however, violate our free will and force us to work with Him, even though He needs our cooperation to accomplish His goals in the world.— Never Alone, 44–45

Saved from or saved to?

At the same time, it [viewing Adam and Eve as archetypes] changes nothing about the need we have for salvation and the importance of the work of Christ on our behalf. Perhaps, however, it will help us to remind ourselves that salvation is more importantly about what we are saved to (renewed access to the presence of God and relationship with him) than what we are saved from. This point is significant because too many Christians find it too easy to think only that they are saved, forgiven and on their way to heaven instead of taking seriously the idea that we are to be in deepening relationship with God day by day here and now.—The Lost World of Adam and Eve, p. 148 (emphasis original)

But does it?

Jesus models the attitude that should mark the life of each member of the community: humble obedience. Thus the Philippian community is a to be a community marked by the cross. The community celebrates Jesus' death on the cross, and the cross also provides a symbol of the identity of the community. The community's identity is "cruciform," to use Michael Gorman's phrase. As the hymn portrays, its values contrast sharply with those of the ruling powers.—Matthew Gordley, New Testament Christological Hymns, pp 106&ndash7

It's in our nature

Just read a very interesting post on the pervasiveness of smart phones and why we are so easily addicted to them. Here's an extract, but do read the whole thing here (HT: Galli Report).

The technology has now become ubiquitous, and students are no different from anyone else in their addiction to smartphones. The underlying question is, why were we all so vulnerable to smartphone addiction when the gadgets arrived on the scene? The answer lies in our nature.

College students are a symbol of the larger society. This is so because, contrary to what some of the evidence suggests, college students are human, and, as such, share our basic moral and spiritual make-up. It might be tempting to think technology has changed this basic human nature. It has not.

Technology amplifies, but does not alter, who we are. We are creatures with a deep and abiding desire to avoid the real. We seek to escape awareness of ourselves and of God through distraction and denial, a point Pascal made centuries ago when he famously pointed out that all the trouble in the world stems from people’s inability to sit quietly in their rooms alone. Not much has changed.

.&thinsp. .

The common root of every instance of denial and pernicious distraction is not technology, but the inner fear of seeing ourselves as we actually are. We much prefer to see ourselves as we imagine we are. When others refuse to play along, that fear can easily become anger at them for exposing our game. The quest to leave our vices behind and achieve the peace that can only come from living with integrity demands that we do the opposite, that we face our shortcomings squarely, even if that means enduring some temporary discomfort. Too many of us remain stuck in the grip of our vices simply because we have developed the reflexive and automatic habit of avoiding knowledge of them. A quick reach into the pocket or a quick scroll with the thumb is all that is required.

<idle musing>
Ouch! But he's correct. Our society's drug of choice right now the smart phone, which is becoming smarter all the time (while we become dumber!). As a small voice of protest, I changed my email signature on my phone from "Sent from my [insert name of brand here]" to "Sent from my not-so-smart phone." Ok, it's a dumb protest, but maybe, just maybe I'm protesting because I know I'm more addicted than I'd like to admit.

What about you?

Just an
<idle musing>

Veneer

I was cleaning up some files on my computer today and ran across this. I discovered I had originally posted it in November 2006, but it bears reposting, even though I might word it differently in places if I wrote it today:

<idle musing>
Veneer is a handy thing. You overlay a thin layer of an expensive wood over cheap wood and it looks good. Nobody suspects that the underlying wood is just particle board. No one that is, until you try to put a load on the shelf and it breaks.

It can be the same with people.

Recently I had the opportunity to spend time with someone I hadn’t seen for a while. Others had told me how much this person had changed and how much they had grown in Christ. I was excited to see it; I always like to see what God does in a person.

At first it seemed that it was true. The person acted the part of a Christian; the vocabulary was Evangelical, God was part of the discussion. But, then came a time of pressure. Pop! The shelf cracked and the particle board of old unredeemed self shown through.

Does it have to be that way? Do we have to go through life play-acting? Recent events raise this question even more starkly. Is Christianity just a sop thrown to give us hope after death, while we struggle and fail here on earth? Is there no victory over sin? Does the enemy of our souls have the upper hand?

Scripture says, “No!” Emphatically. Jesus, on the night of his betrayal, was able to say, “I have overcome the world!” Note the tense, not I will, not I am, but I have (perfect, active, indicative in the Greek). Paul was able to say, in Romans 8, “we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (present active indicative in the Greek). John, in I John says, “Greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world.”

So, why the disconnect? Why don’t people seem to be experiencing this in their daily lives?

Well, there can be any number of reasons, but I submit that the main one is that most Christians have never really died to self. Evangelical Christianity is big on justification, but short on sanctification. We want big numbers, and frankly, death isn’t a good calling card if you are looking for a large following: “Hi, Jesus loves you and wants to put you to death!” But, that is exactly what Jesus calls us to, “Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Matthew 16.24, Mark 8:34, Luke 9:23, 14.27 (RSV)

Paul develops the theme even more in Romans 6. According to Paul, we died with Christ in baptism and now we are alive in Christ. But, it is in Christ, not in self. As long as we function in self, we function in sin. As long as we seek what we want, when we want it, we are dead to Christ and alive to the world. As long as we live in Christ, we are dead to self and the world. It’s too simple—maybe that’s the problem. We want to make it harder; we want to do it.

The reformation happened almost 500 hundred years ago. Its basic truth was sola gratia, all God and not man. Why is it that we are now trying to do it ourselves? Sola Gratia means just that, by grace alone, or does Galatians 3 not ring true anymore?

O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you, before whose eyes Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified? Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law, or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun with the Spirit, are you now ending with the flesh? Did you experience so many things in vain? —if it really is in vain. Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law, or by hearing with faith?

</idle musing>

About that historical-critical method and the church fathers…

One would be very hard pressed to find in the earliest interpreters of sacred Scripture an approach that is intent only on finding direct one-to-one correspondence with strictly historical occurrences. Instead, one finds Scripture interpreted in a manner that emphasizes a call to a deeper spiritual life wherein the salvation of humankind and the ultimate goal of seeing God (contemplation) are overarching.—Early Christian Readings of Genesis One, page 303

Review of Irenaeus of Lyon for Young Readers

I just received a new book in the mail yesterday and was asked to review it. I hope you find the review helpful.

Simonetta Carr, Irenaeus of Lyon (Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2017) is a nicely illustrated and well-written biography of an important early church father. In a little more than sixty pages, she does an excellent job of filling in the background of why he is important and how he obtained his source material (he was a student of Polycarp, who was a student of John the Elder).

Beginning with his birthplace in Smyrna (modern İzmir, Turkey), she gives background on what a typical male child’s education was like and why it seems that Irenaeus had that education (he shows a good knowledge of the Greek classics in his writings). She explains the importance of Polycarp, highlights Irenaeus’s time in Rome before he arrives at his final destination of Lyon in Gaul (France), where he became bishop.

If I still had children at home, I would definitely enjoy reading this book to them. What’s more, I’m sure they would enjoy it, which is quite an accomplishment for an author!

That being said, there are two places in the book where I take issue with her. The first is on the first page of the book. She seems to imply—no, she comes right out and says—that Paul was considered one of the Twelve. Unfortunately, that reflects the highly Pauline-centric view of too many in the Reformed world. There are many definitions of “apostle” in the New Testament, but Luke’s was the most restricted, as described in Acts 1, where the disciples choose a new twelfth member. Needless to say, it wasn’t Paul. Ok, maybe I’m nitpicking.

The second issue is in the final background information, where she states the common misinterpretation of Augustine’s comment about Ambrose reading silently. From that little statement has grown a common misconception that almost no one in the ancient world read silently. Wrong! That view was rightly put to rest back in the 1960s by Bernard Knox, but it has maintained a life of its own. It was considered in bad taste to read silently, largely because so many were illiterate, but it was not unheard of or unknown. I know, only a Classicist would get all bent out of shape over that. Color me guilty, but I’m tired of having to always correct that mistake—even in articles by New Testament scholars who should know better.

Irenaeus is an important source for the early church, especially in his refutation of gnosticism and witness to the rule of faith. But one other thing that I wish she had developed was his doctrine of theosis or divination, the process by which we become more godlike (without becoming God). In his Against Heresies 3:19, he has the amazing statement

For it was for this end that the Word of God was made man, and He who was the Son of God became the Son of man, that man, having been taken into the Word, and receiving the adoption, might become the son of God. For by no other means could we have attained to incorruptibility and immortality, unless we had been united to incorruptibility and immortality.

This idea would later be summed up by Athanasius (3rd century) as, “God became man that man might become god.” Mind you, not gods independent of God, but only in the likeness of God because we are adopted into God through Christ. The Eastern Orthodox have a wonderful theology of theosis that those of us in the West could do well to adapt and adopt. Indeed, if you look, you can find it in Luther to an extent, moreso in Calvin, and to a much greater extent in Wesley, who had the advantage of being at Oxford during a time of the rediscovery of the Eastern Fathers, which then influenced his idea of Christian perfection. If you do a search on theosis on this blog you will find a good bit more information. : )

Well, it seems we’ve gone far afield from the book at this point, but to sum it up again, this book, despite the two minor errors (and they are minor despite the space I gave to them), is highly recommended. In fact, this book has encouraged me to take a look at the other biographies for young readers that she has written. They might make good gifts for the grandkids!

Disclaimer: This book was given to me by Reformation Heritage Books. Needless to say, that didn’t influence my review.

Theosis

Sin corrupts this human icon of God, making humanity a broken vessel. The story of redemption is, in one important sense, simply the story of the restoration of the divine image in humanity, enabling us to function as bearers of divine glory. Our eschatological destiny is thus, in the language of classical Christian theology, deification (theōsis). This is not about us “becoming God” (which is an incoherent notion, if taken in a strictly literal sense) but it is about a union with God of such intimacy and profundity as to enable us to function as the divine image we were made to be.— The Biblical Cosmos, page 177

The cross beckons us

The Sermon on the Mount is not law that can save us; it is, rather, the texture of the life of those who have died with Christ and are now made alive with him through resurrection (e.g., blessed are those who mourn, who hunger and thirst for righteousness, who turn the other cheek, etc.). The disciple is called to the cross, to come and follow Jesus into death. And this is not because Jesus’s call seeks masochism, but rather because Jesus’s call is the gift of giving us new life through the Stellvertretung (the place-sharing) of Jesus’s very person. The disciple is called to the cross because it is from the cross that Jesus calls us, calling us to carry our cross, calling us to love the person of our neighbor in and through suffering of the cross that they bear.—Bonhoeffer as Youth Worker, page 189

Tired of the market-oriented approach to Christianity?

Today we see broad evidence of Christians seeking these historic Christian experiences in worship. Tired of market-oriented approaches that seem to focus on self-improvement of finances, relationships and self-image, many cry out to be held near by the transcendent God, to experience a piece of what they can never fully experience here, and to be transformed into what God created them to become.—Why Church History Matters, page 177

<idle musing>
A fit ending to the book, I think. Of course, a knowledge of church history isn't necessary for transformation to happen. But I would argue, as did Rea in the book, that your Christian walk will be deeper the more you are aware of the saints who went before. And, I would further argue, you shouldn't stop at the Reformation; there are many saints in the 2000 year history of the church who would serve well as role models. (Of course, the obverse is true as well!)

Next book up: Bonhoeffer as Youth Worker. Should be an interesting read...
</idle musing>

So heavenly minded...

The more I’ve learned to properly enjoy earthly things, the more I long for heaven. Because I love this life, eternity in God’s presence has gone from a distant hope to tangible reality, like something right in front of me but just out of reach.—Radically Normal, electronic edition

The difference is...

Because we share a lot of common ground, the Christian life may not look all that different on the surface from the world’s ideals. It makes sense to them. From the outside, we look like good neighbors and ideal employees. But when our non-Christian family, friends, and coworkers scratch below the surface, they discover that we’re driven by wholehearted devotion to God and empowered by the Holy Spirit.—Radically Normal, electronic edition

<idle musing>
At least, it should be...
</idle musing>

Take up the cross

These texts show that the disciples’ cross is not what it is often thought to be—a metaphor for some difficult family situation, a personal loss, a crushing debt, the frustration of one’s hopes, a nagging in-law. It is, rather, what Jesus’ cross was—the price likely to be extracted by the rulers of the world for one’s nonconformity to the ways of the world and for challenging injustice and worldly conceptions of power. For this is not only what brought Jesus himself to be crucified. It was what he was consciously aware would bring him to this end. So being a “son of God” entails being ready and willing to endure persecution and suffering, even to the point of martyrdom, for the sake of faithfulness to God (cf. e.g., Matt. 5:9-12).

Self-Denial:Despite what many of us who were brought up in penitential atmospheres have been taught, in the teaching of Jesus to “deny oneself” (ἀπαρνησάσθω ἑαυτῷ [aparnēsasthō heautō]), especially when it is linked, as it is here, with a command to “take up one’s cross,” has little to do with the practice of asceticism (i.e., to deny something, especially pleasures, to oneself). Rather, it involves the rejection of a presumed prerogative, in this case the right to defend one’s life (ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ σῶσαι [psychēn autou sōsai]) at all costs when faced with danger or death. More particularly, when we take into account how Jesus links “saving” one’s life with seeking “to gain the whole world” (κερδῆσαι τὸν κόσμον ὅλον [kerdēsai ton kosmon holon]) and what seeking “to gain the whole world” signifies, to “deny oneself” means to give up as valid any idea that one has the right to preserve self or life from danger or death through the exercise of self-aggrandizing power. So, “to deny oneself” entails not only accepting a posture of defenselessness in the face of danger and death but also rejecting seeking worldly power and dominion through worldly means.—The Disciples’ Prayer, pages 71–72

Mary and Martha, two views

When speaking of Martha and Mary, Augustine’s emphasis lies with Mary as a type of the life to come: “Mary…has shown us a likeness of this joy beforehand…she rested from every occupation and was absorbed with the truth according to the manner of which this life is capable, and thus has foreshadowed the future life that shall last forever. For Augustine, Martha and Mary signify types of life separated by what is possible in this life and what is possible after death. “In these two women two kinds of life are represented: present life and future life…temporal life and eternal life…In Martha was to be found the image of things present, in Mary that of things to come. Alternatively, for Cassia, both Martha and Mary signify lives that Christians regularly lead on earth. One has to draw lines between Cassian and Augustine carefully: both Cassian and Augustine are convinced that the contemplation we will experience face to face is radically superior to the contemplation we experience now, and both are willing to consider that we progress towards that contemplation in this life as a regular part of the ascetic’s life, as we saw in Chapter 2. Contemplation is more than barely begun in this life according to Cassian. Contemplation is a regular part of the reading of scripture and prayer experiences of the Christian ascetic. For Augustine, on the other hand, “active” and “contemplative” most naturally name this life and the next. Contemplation is barely begun in this life, and is a rare experience, according to the mature Augustine.—Ascetic Pneumatology from John Cassian to Gregory the Great, page 185

<idle musing>
Where to begin...there is so much wrong with this—and so much right!

First off, we see the problem with the allegorical interpretation of scripture. Mary and Martha are reduced to types. But, if Mary represents the future, then how come she's experiencing it right now?! She is already experiencing a restful life in Christ, sure there will be more in the future, as both Augustine and Cassian acknowledge. But, there is indeed a foretaste of it now.

Second, Augustine is wrong to say that it is rare and barely begun! This flows out of his extreme embrace of the fallenness of humanity. His earlier stuff, before he encountered Pelagius, is a bit more optimistic. But once he began to refute Pelagius, he became more extreme on the extent of the fall. I'm not enough of an Augustine scholar to know if he ever says that the image of God is destroyed in humanity, but he certainly extends the extent to which is it effaced. Cassian is closer to right here. We can experience a much greater degree of the contemplative life here and now than Augustine allows here.

What's right? We only get a foretaste. But what a foretaste it can be! But it's still only a foretaste.

Now, I wonder how Augustine reconciles his extreme pessimism here with his optimism here?!

Just an
</idle musing>

An invitation

For Paul, we have seen, peace and peacemaking are constitutive of Jesus’ identity, his father’s identity, the Spirit’s identity, the kingdom’s identity, and the church’s identity. That is, the Triune God is the God of peace, and the peace of God is a fundamental mark of God’s reign and God’s people. To make peace, empowered by the Spirit and in the shape of the cross, is to be like Christ and thereby like God. It is to participate in the mission and identity or, better, the missional identity, of God. Paul is fully in sync, therefore, with the words of Jesus in Matthew: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matt 5:9, similar in vocabulary to Col 1:20). This Jesus is, for Paul, the Lord of peace, the one who made and who makes peace on behalf of the Father and in the power of the Spirit. Similarly, for Luke, Jesus is the one who inaugurates God’s reign of shalom and invites his followers, both before and after his nonviolent, peacemaking death, to follow in “the way”—the way of God, salvation, and peace: the way of Jesus himself.— The Death of the Messiah and the Birth of the New Covenant, page 201

Example or presence

Paul does not merely hold out Christ as an example, but points to him as a living presence with and in whom the church has koinōnia inasmuch as it practices peace—the peace of the crucified and resurrected Messiah. he is the Lord of peace, the son of the God of peace.

Peaceableness/peacemaking is, therefore, practicing the presence of God and of Christ or, more precisely, it is allowing the present Christ, the Lord of peace, to do in the community that which he has done and wishes to continue doing for the sake of the people of God and for the entire world.— The Death of the Messiah and the Birth of the New Covenant, page 188