What is the Nature of Scripture?

My thought is that scripture is essentially a reason to praise God.  That may not be it's sole raison d'etre.  But, from beginning to end, scripture shows God to be a consistent, loving father.  Whether He's flooding the world or delivering His people, every time God does something in scripture, we can say, "Hallelujah!"  Israel turned to idol worship and God punished them.  Hallelujah!  Jacob stole his brother's birthright and ran away, and God upheld His promise to Abraham.  Hallelujah!

From the historical perspective, He demonstrates his consistent love for us by rewarding and punishing His children throughout scripture and by making promises that he keeps.  Scripture doesn't cast mankind in a very good light, as we tend to be inconsistent, self-loving, self-serving, willful children.  But, that directs us even more back to scripture being a reason to praise God for His consistent love for us.  Hallelujah!

Does scripture contain Biblical answers to modern problems?  As a parent, I find myself having to take things away from my kids.  Things they like.  Things they cherish.  It's usually the iPad because they are hooked on a game, or a TV show they've watched 10 times in a row.  Taking these things away from them feels like punishment to them.  To them, it feels like I'm being mean.  But, I see them becoming obsessed with something trivial (TV and video games), and I need to break that pattern of addiction because I love them, and I need them to love me (by obedience--or vice versa, obey me because of their love) more than their iPad & TV.  

I read a book called The Pursuit of God in which the author writes about having possessions, but not being possessed by them.  An example cited was Abraham, who was willing to sacrifice his dearest possession, Isaac.  That demonstration of love literally saved the world.  The story of Job fits into this category of modern problems, too, I think.  

The problem is that, when you lose your job, your car, your health, your loved ones, iPad time, TV time (modern problems), it's so hard to see that ancient scripture may be at work.  Abraham never said, "I want my iPad!  I want my iPad!"  (Hallelujah!)  But, the idea is the same.  It just might be God's loving hand breaking your fixation/obsession/addiction to the 'things' in the world (can we call it idol worship?) and redirecting you back to love-driven obedience to Him and His plan for us and the world.  It just might be a reason to praise God (even though I still find myself fussing at him for not protecting me and my family when it happens).

Here's the thing, though.  Without an understanding of scripture, we could never see our modern problems from that perspective.  And, that's why we end up perplexed and frustrated when God abandons us and allows these terrible things to happen.  It's so hard to hear "I love you" when you're in the throes of grief, punishment or withdrawal.  On the other hand, God can't hear, "I love you," from us when we're obsessed with our modern problems.

Verb Form of 'Christian'

I have this image in my mind of a video showing an unmarked radio controlled car. The caption reads, “Creation.” It’s picked up, dunked in water, and a sticker in the shape of a cross is applied to the hood. The caption reads, “Christian.” The car is picked up, a battery is installed, the motor revs & the car speeds off. The caption reads, “Disciple.” 

We are all creations; in baptism, we become Christians; in deeds, we are disciples. 

Or, to put it another way, “Disciple” is the verb form of the noun, “Christian.” 

But, I’m going to challenge Willard’s water-in-the-gas-tank analogy a bit and suggest that we don’t add water to the gas tank. Instead, our cars are built with a reservoir of water connected to our gas tank. That wasn’t part of the original design. But, the prototype was retrofitted with it, and it became standard equipment from then on. The reservoir has many hoses that lead to our gas tank, and more hoses are added all the time. Each hose has a valve that is open in its natural state allowing water to flow into the gas tank. These valves must be held shut in order to keep water from flowing. 

To complicate things, releasing the valve can actually be enjoyable and at least temporarily rewarding. With so many hoses and valves, it becomes challenging to keep them all shut. 

Fortunately, it’s possible for passengers to help us hold them shut, and that makes it a lot easier to keep water out of the gas. It’s a lot harder to keep them all shut when you’re alone in the car. 

But, it seems that either by choice or by negligence, a valve eventually opens. Or maybe two, or three. It feels good to take a break from holding the valve closed, and the water doesn’t have an immediate impact on the engine. Well, maybe a little, but it’s tolerable. It’s only when the engine starts running really rough that we start closing valves. And, it’s then that we discover the valves can be very hard to close. 

We don’t so much add a little sin into our lives as much as we allow a little sin to sneak out—to be expressed in our deeds, our thoughts, our words. Our sinful nature is within us, and we allow ourselves to be disobedient. 

But, if Jesus’ own hand-picked disciples couldn’t prevent themselves from sinning, how can we? We can’t. We must necessarily sometimes miss the mark. 

Our challenge, as disciples, is to hold the valves shut as long as we can, knowing that we will eventually relax our grip and then have to work to shut the valve again. That probably keeps us humble, and makes us more likely to be forgiving of others who try to keep their valves shut, but fail occasionally.

Dresden Files

I don’t know if you’ve read the Dresden Files series. It’s about a wizard living in modern-day Chicago, fighting supernatural forces and helping the police catch bad guys. I read the first book, and in it, there was an interesting concept of a wizard’s “third eye,” which essentially allows him and other wizards to lift the veil of the apparent and see the world in its “real” mystical, magical, hideous fundamental nature. It implies that the world we see is not the real world. Rather, what we see is a mask of more palatable images concealing the hideous “real” world. The same concept appears in the movie, They Live, and The Matrix, and probably others. 

It got me to thinking about our world and how we see people. I think we tend to view most people (especially ourselves) in their best light. We see ministers and church ladies and shepherds and philanthropists as “good people,” and we put murderers, child molesters, rapists and politicians into a different category. And, I think we probably see people in both groups as better than they actually are. After all, a sin is a sin, and there are no degrees of disobedience. Still, I tend to think that people aren’t as bad as the worst thing they ever did, nor as good as the best thing they ever did, but are somewhere in between. 

 I wonder what we would see if we had a “third eye.” What would we see if the veil of the apparent were lifted, or if we had those cool shades that allowed us to see beyond the real world? What if we were able to see people as God sees them? Would we be more compassionate toward one another? Would we be repulsed by them? Seeing ourselves with clear eyes, would we hide from others and scramble for a fig leaf big enough to cover our shame? It’s the blood of Jesus, I suppose, that puts that veil back on us and makes us palatable (acceptable) to God.  

Jesus had the ability to see people unveiled, I think. So, why don’t people have the ability to see each other for who they really are?

Building Strong Churches with Weak Bricks

In Mexico one year, my friend, Phil, and I were cutting cement blocks for the church we were helping to build. It was hot. We ached all over from lugging heavy bricks and buckets and tools. We were absolutely filthy from the cement "sawdust" that swirled around us and stuck to our sweaty clothes and bodies, making us look a bit like living statues. Ahh, good times.

Anyway, most bricks cut just fine. But, there were some that, before we even cut them, we could tell that they were apt to just crumble. In fact, there were some we would pick up with one hand, and the brick would fall apart under its own weight.

But, we used every brick. Each was a valuable commodity, and there was no room for waste on the job site. The ones we could tell were weak we cut gently and mortared into the walls along with the stronger bricks. Even, the bricks that fell apart were still useful, either by using the broken pieces as filler or using the larger chunks for odd sections of walls (around pipes, doorways, windows, etc.).

At one point, I asked Phil, "So, can you preach a lesson on 'Building Strong Churches with Weak Bricks'?"

I could tell it got his mental wheels turning. I never heard the sermon, if he did it. I assume it would have been along the lines of the bricks representing Christians, and God is the mortar that gives us stability, purpose, strength, community, form, etc. Even though some bricks are weak, they find their strength and purpose when they are mortared into a wall of other bricks, and the whole being stronger than the weakest brick (as opposed to the "weakest link" comparison), etc. The symbolism is pretty clear, and could probably be expanded quite a bit.

I know I'm a weak brick. So, it's reassuring that, as a weak brick, that I have a purpose that can be realized when I am integrated with my brothers and sisters and connected to them by the love of God.

What Does God Need With a Star Ship?

In Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, the star ship Enterprise traveled to a place that was supposedly Heaven. There, they met a being who claimed to be God. This “God” demanded that the landing party give him the star ship Enterprise so that he could leave that place. (The being didn't explain why he would want to leave Heaven, but oh well.) Kirk politely challenged “God” by asking, “What does God need with a star ship?” Well, for that, he earned himself a jolt of lightning to the chest which he, of course, survived. Spock seconded the question and was also zapped with lightning from “God.”

The scene was intended to out this entity as being something other than God. After all, God wouldn't need a spaceship to escape from Heaven. But, it does bring up some interesting questions and ideas when it comes to rendering unto God.

If we can ask, “What does God need with a star ship?” couldn't we also ask, “What does God need with cash?” (Can we ask that without fearing a jolt of lightning?) We often include, “…as we give back to God a portion of what He has given to us,” in our offering prayers. So, clearly, our intended recipient of these funds…is God. As such, we might ask during the collection of the offering what God needs with money, and the obvious answer is that he does not need our money.

The Old Testament folks may have asked, “What does God need with an ox?” “What does God need with a burning goat?” “What does God need with a sheaf of wheat?” “What does God need with Abraham’s son Isaac killed on an altar?”

A broader perspective is required, I think. We can’t just “follow the money” in this case. Instead, we must follow the heart. Though the church receives our cash, God receives his portion, too. He receives our obedience; our faith and trust; and, our love for the church and for others.

Cain learned that an improper offering garnered no respect or favor from God. So, if God has no use for burned-up goats and wheat and oxen, if he has no need for cash or star ships, but doesn't respect us if we don’t offer up these things, then the conclusion must be that God simply wants us to give an offering that He (not we) finds acceptable. The thing we offer to God is useless to God per se, and yet it is very significant.

So, what does God want from us? What do you get for the the guy who has everything?

What God wants from us is our obedience, our faith and our love, and the offering of our possessions demonstrates that obedience, faith and love for God and for his church. We can't demonstrate those attributes of our faith with paltry offerings, or with offerings of our "budget leftovers."

So, maybe God does need a star ship. He doesn't need it for transportation purposes, but for demonstration purposes. He needs it as a demonstration of our obedience, faith and love. (If God were born on Earth, he would have been born in Missouri...the "Show-me" state, where Willard Vandiver declared, "...frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies me. I am from Missouri. You have got to show me.") And, to come full-circle, the catchy phrase, "...as we give back to God a portion of what he has given us," is also probably very apropos. God has demonstrated his faithfulness and love for us immeasurably. When we give back to Him in obedience, faith and love, it is truly a portion of what he has given us.

Ichthys

I always wanted to put one of those Christian fish symbols (ichthys) on my car. But, I wanted to put it on my dashboard where I would see it. I figured it would be more useful as a reminder to me of who I am when I'm cut off in traffic by a maniac than as a sign announcing to the drivers behind me, "Christian on Board."  After all, shouldn't my driving habits tell people around me that I'm a Christian without them having to look for a little plastic fish on my bumper?

So, I'm going to study on (and try to put into practice) this idea of demonstrating my relationship with God to those around me, not because they deserve it, but because I don't either.

DIY and Tying the Temptation to the Exodus

Aaron Walling preached a sermon in March 2012 at Cinco Ranch Church of Christ. The lesson talked about Americans' DIY nature, and our desire to fix things ourselves and to secure our futures in our accumulated wealth rather than relying the daily sustenance by faith through God's grace.

These are my thoughts on the lesson.

DIY

We Americans have a DIY nature that can be in conflict with our reliance on God's creative, life-giving word. We try to be strong and solve our own problems like stress and sin; relying on someone else is a sign of weakness, after all, right?

But, God chooses the weakest and meekest to exhibit His strength (Gideon's army, David v. Goliath, even fish & loaves). By doing so, He makes plain the fact that we aren't doing it ourselves, but that He is doing these things through us.

Tying the temptation to the exodus

We could really go from the stones-to-bread temptation to the manna from heaven and then to the Lord's Prayer. "Give us this day our daily bread" ties back to the manna, too, I think. God gave the Israelites one day's rations every day. He did not allow them to stockpile any of it. In this way, He forced them to rely solely on Him. They couldn't ever say, "I don't need God tomorrow. I saved up enough manna to carry me through a couple of days." In this and many other ways, God was training them--forcing them--to go to Him for everything every day.

Now, when we jump to the Lord's Prayer, Jesus says that our prayer should include, "Give us this day our daily bread." I think it means more than, "God, please give me what I need every day." I think it could mean more: "God, don't give me more than I need today because I don't want to be tempted to depend on my surplus tomorrow. I want to depend only on you every day, and having stores of provisions may 'lead me into temptation'."

If that's the case, it makes looking at accumulated wealth as something that could be a risk rather than necessarily a blessing. Do we count on our bank accounts? Do we rely on our retirement plans? Do we put our trust in our pensions? Is our faith in our 401K? Is our assurance found in our insurance?

I read that owning things is okay, as long as you're not owned by them. You can accumulate wealth as long is your focus isn't on the wealth, but on God. Abraham proved to God that what he loved the most, even more than his own dear son, was God. Therefore, he was blessed by God and ultimately owned many things, but was not owned by those things. They didn't have control of him.

So, this was a really good look at Faith and the Word of God.