One Cranky Prophet

I’ve been reading Isaiah this month, two chapters a day.  Reading Isaiah is like riding a yo yo: up and down; up and down.  The mood changes almost mid-sentence from righteous judgment to gracious reconciliation—but let’s start at the beginning.

The LORD strides upon the scene, calling out his grievance to the heavens and the earth:

“Children have I reared and brought up

but they have rebelled against me.”  (Is. 1:2b)

This is the problem: the rest of Isaiah (and all the prophets, come to think of it) chew on that theme: Ah, sinful nation: sick desolate, ruined.  These are the judgments of the Lord, but also the natural consequences of cutting themselves off from the very Creator who put the breath in their bodies.  That breath remains and not only commits Israel to him, but commits him to Israel.  He has bound himself to them, and difficulties immediately arise.

For the first four chapters (and throughout the book) a personality emerges that a psychiatrist would label schizophrenic.  Reams of condemnation roll out, alternating with brief passages that look like the speaker is reconsidering: “Come, let us reason together . . .”

“. . . they shall beat their swords into ploughshares . . .”

“Zion shall be redeemed. . . ”

“It shall be well with the righteous . . .”

The weight of sin and rebellion drags the oracle down, down, down—but still it struggles to rise.

Chapters 5 and 6 forge a theme for the first “Book” of Isaiah (chapters 1-39).  The case against “my people” is accurate and detailed and could apply to “our people” today.  And if our people complain about His peevishness, vindictiveness, arbitrariness, and cruelty, here’s his answer:

The LORD of hosts is exalted in justice,

and the Holy God shows himself holy in righteousness.

He can’t be holy and righteous without judging.  And he can’t judge without holiness and righteousness.

But—what about those people, whom he made and shaped and breathed immortal souls into?  As the rock-ribbed Calvinists say, he has every right to send all of them to hell.  There is none righteous; no, not one.  But—

He has committed himself, by his very breath.

What to do?

That (speaking in purely human terms) is the Divine Dilemma.  “Children have I reared and brought up . . .”  Every parent with wayward children can sympathize.  What do you do?

You don’t stop loving them—unless you never really loved them in the first place.  If you saw your kids as an extension of yourself, intended to draw praise back to you for how well you raised them, it might not be that hard to cut them off: Sayonara, punk.  You had your chance and you blew it.

But even if there’s a smidgen of love in your complicated feelings, there’s at least that much pain.  Love is a risk.  I might even say that love is risk.  You’ve cut yourself open to admit the unknown; a being that brings its own complexity, hidden dangers, and uncertain future.  And it turns on you.  That which promised to complete you now claws at you and threatens your very identity.

God doesn’t need us for completion.  Still, what do you do . . . if you are God?  Two choices:

One, you let it go.  Let the heedless children destroy your house, trample your rules, leave your righteousness in tatters.  In the process they choke on their own autonomy and you cease to be righteous and thus no longer God.  They’ve squandered their identity and stolen yours.  Nobody wins.

Two: you exercise your righteous judgment, stop the oppression, punish the oppressors.  You are still God, but your creation is stuck in an endless round of destruction and renewal (see the book of Judges) until it exhausts itself.  Technically, you win . . . but not really, if your grand experiment reveals itself to be a failure and the fiery hallways of hell ring with Satan’s laughter.

Or wait—there’s a third option.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given . . .  (Is. 9:6)

Higher criticism insists that this child is a contemporary born into the royal household, a brief uptick in Judah’s downward drift.  But the extravagant language—Mighty God, Everlasting Father, etc.—is a bit much, even for court-flattery.  The child the virgin conceives may be the son of a virtuous, recently-married young woman of Isaiah’s time.  But there’s another Son, another sign given to a later virgin who wonders, “Wait . . . how can this be?”

Tucked among Isaiah’s fiery images and agonized and wrathful pronouncements wrung from Israel’s struggle with God, a Man emerges.  A promised child, like Isaac and Samson; a sapling from the seed of Jesse like David; a servant and prophet like Moses, a sacrificial victim like . . . no one else.

He’s the third way, the resolution of an impossible dilemma and the reconciler of opposites.

Bible Challenge, Week 16: The Nation – Home at Last

Did you catch the change in headings from last week to this week?  We’re no longer talking about “the people,” but “the Nation.”  By crossing the Jordan, Abraham’s wandering descendants passed a milestone.  A promise made to that landless patriarch almost 500 years earlier is fulfilled by the dramatic events that open the book of Joshua.

After the tribulations of the wilderness and numerous setbacks, the book of Joshua seems like an unblemished triumph.  But there are problems, both within the text and outside it.  Some of them you’ll encounter in this week’s reading challenge.

Click here for the printable .pdf, with scripture references, discussion questions, and activities:

Bible Challenge Week 16: The Nation – Home at Last

(This is a continuation of a series of posts about the “whole story” of the Bible.  I plan to run one every week, on Tuesdays, with a printable PDF.  The printable includes a brief 2-3 paragraph introduction, Bible passages to read, a key verse, 5-7 thought/discussion questions, and 2-3 activities for the kids.  Here’s the Overview of the entire Bible series.)

Previous: Week 15: The People – Blessings and Curses

Next: Week 17: The Nation – Failure!

Testimony

These are personal testimonies collected years ago at a Christmas ornament exchange.  True stories; only the names have been changed to protect privacy:

Debbie’s life was chaos, owing to a dysfunctional family: abusive dad, passive mom, no system or order in the household.  Her father made plenty of money, but she remembers walking to school in clothes so old her teachers thought she was a  charity case.  She came to the Lord sweetly and naturally, through high school friends who sought her out (she didn’t realize until later that they were evangelizing her).  Her life since has had its dramatic ups and downs, but she is ever “in his grip.”

Donna’s life was ignorance.  Her father wasn’t around much, especially after the War began.  At the age of three she was evacuated from London because of the blitz, and lived with two families for most of the duration.  Looking back, she can see the seeds planted in her early life, such as an occasional Sunday school, that finally sprouted when she read a gospel tract her husband brought home.  It struck like an arrow, filling her heart with joy. She was elated, and believed at once, eagerly kneeling to accept Christ as Savior.  Over the years, she’s become more grounded, learning that being a Christian doesn’t solve all your problems.  But she’s not going anywhere else.  Her favorite verse: “In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”

Linda felt unloved and insecure.  Her father died before she could know him and her step-dad, whom she called Daddy, never took her to his heart; when his own kids were born his favoritism was obvious and hurtful.  When a chain of circumstances brought Daddy’s mother to live nearby, this godly woman took Linda to church.  Though hostile to faith, her stepdad welcomed the Sunday-morning time he could spend with his “real” kids.  They never came to the Lord, but Linda did.  If her earthly father didn’t love her, she knew her heavenly Father did.  Love was at the center of her conversion, and ever since she has felt secure.

Melissa’s life was darkness.  Drug abuse, alcohol, and violence ruled the house where she grew up; she knew little else.  Certainly no gospel.  Somehow she got through high school and scraped up enough ambition to go to college.  It was there, while partying on the weekends and looking for love in all the wrong places, she met some Christian girls who started inviting her to church and Bible study.  Her conversion was quick and complete.  No backsliding; she changed like that (snap).  Her language cleaned up, her sleeping-around stopped, she was delivered from darkness into the kingdom of his glorious light.

Tabitha’s life was marked by fear.  She was afraid of everything: danger, death, hell—and this at five years old!  She knew about God because her parents taught her, but somehow she missed hearing about God’s provision for sin.  This is the classic sequence for conversions in the past: first the wrath, then the grace.  She was a tender plant, extraordinarily sensitive. Her conviction was real, even at that age—she remembers lying in bed, unable to sleep after a heinous (to her mind) misdeed that day.  She had to get up and confess to her parents, who, in the middle of the night, shared the rally good news with her.  She has believed ever since, and her life now is marked with confidence.

Tami was always Christian—can’t remember a time when she didn’t believe.  But somewhere between youth and adulthood faith is tested and personalized and purified of baby idols; for her that happened with a traumatizing church  split that put a chasm between her and close friends.  Who quickly became former friends.  She’s grateful for the ways this crisis shored up her faith and reinforced her walk, but the walk itself seemed a foregone conclusion.

As for me, my life was complacence.  My family saw to it that I was in church three times a week.  I knew all the answers, memorized the verses, sang all the verses (or at least the first, second, and last) of all the standard hymns by heart.  Sometimes I got the impression that being a Christian was pretty easy: here’s what God wants, just follow these rules.  But meandering along path, not paying much attention, I tripped right into sin.  And self-justifying, which is even worse.  I could have used a little fear of the Lord, but I never stopped believing—at the back of my mind was always a conviction that what I’d been taught was basically true, and “to whom else can I go?”  I walked back the same way I’d walked away, but this time knowing much more about myself and the depth of my need.

We hear that “There are many roads to God.”  Actually, no; but there are many paths to the one road.  Out of seven women, only three of us grew up in anything like a Christian home, so family isn’t always the path.  None were influenced by a husband or boyfriend, so romance isn’t always the path.  For two, friends in school showed the way; for one, a step-grandmother; for Tabitha and me (though at vastly different ages), it was the direct and pointed conviction of the Holy Spirit.

“This promise is for you and your children, and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself” (Acts 2:39).  Near by and far off, he calls.  At this minute, and the next, and the next, He’s calling to himself.  I sometimes think about all the murders being committed, all the outrages, all the unspeakable crimes going on right now.  Somewhere in this world it’s always midnight and someone who should be sleeping peacefully is instead acting violently.  Do you know where your children are?  God knows where his children are, and right now, this minute, he is calling them out of darkness and into his glorious light.

Bible Challenge, Week 15: The People – Blessings and Curses

The book of Deuteronomy is two things: a renewal of the covenant between God and his people, and Moses’ farewell.  Except for a brief introduction and a postscript, all of it is in Moses’ own voice, as he summons the people to give them a history lesson–all the amazing things their God has done over the last 40 years.

Now they stand on the brink of a new chapter in their saga.  Looking over Jordan, they see the promised land.

It’s time for a second covenant ceremony, and a reminder of what a covenant is.  The notion of a solemn agreement between a king and his underlings wouldn’t have been foreign to the people; it’s how things were done back then.  But God adds an element they might not have been expecting, an angle foreign to covenants at the time.  Any guesses?

Click here for the printable download, with scripture passages, discussion questions and activities:

Bible Challenge Week 15: The People – Blessings and Curses

(This is a continuation of a series of posts about the “whole story” of the Bible.  I plan to run one every week, on Tuesdays, with a printable PDF.  The printable includes a brief 2-3 paragraph introduction, Bible passages to read, a key verse, 5-7 thought/discussion questions, and 2-3 activities for the kids.  Here’s the Overview of the entire Bible series.)

Previous: Week 14: The People – Sacrifice

Next: Week 15: The Nation – Home at Last

Anywhere with Jesus: a Christian View of a Squirmy Subject

Several years ago I had a preacher friend who provided interesting insights into the pulpit life.  During the years of our acquaintance, in spite of normal frustrations with his flock, he could usually count on at least a few encouraging words after each sermon.  Except for the time he preached about the temptations of Christ.  His text was not the famous showdown in the wilderness, but Hebrews 4:15: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but one who in every way has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.”  The sermon emphasized that the text means what it says; in every way means every way.  Including sexual temptation.

That made the pew contingent very uncomfortable.  It wasn’t hard to tell.  As my friend recalled it, “Usually I get a pat on the back when the folks line up to shake my hand at the door.  Like, ‘Good message, brother,’ or, “That one really hit me where I live.’  But for that sermon I got a Hi or a Nice day or something completely irrelevant, like, ‘Uh . . . I like those pants.’”  (Note: this was in the 70s, when pants were more interesting than they are now.)

What does this anecdote have to do with the subject of masturbation?  And why am I writing about masturbation?  To the second question, I’m writing because I was asked about it, and my initial reluctance was overcome as I thought (and read other Christians’ thoughts) about it.Image result for loneliness images

As to the first question: Jesus has everything to do with everything.

The following is written with Christians in mind; I recognize it will make no sense to anyone else.

The Bible, as so many observers point out, has nothing directly to say about masturbation, good or bad.  But of course the Bible speaks to a wide range of issues indirectly and it’s up to us to do the hard work of rightly discerning the word of truth.  Not to mention searching out what pleases the Lord (Eph. 5:10).

One reason the Bible is silent on this issue is that it might not have been a big problem in that time and place.  People tended to marry young, and when they weren’t enjoying marital bliss, or sleep, they were pouring their energies into hard physical labor, religious festivals, or intense partying (think of those week-long wedding celebrations).  And considering the housing options of the time, privacy was not an easy thing to come by.

In the law, sexuality was treated matter-of-factly when it came to physical consequences like monthly periods and male discharges (at least some of which had to be nocturnal emissions).  Leviticus gives detailed instructions for purification after each one.  Why be purified after a natural function that the Lord himself created?  I had some thoughts about that here, but for now it strikes me that these laws concern men and women in isolation from each other.  There are no purification rites for married sex (unless it occurs during a woman’s time of “uncleanness”), because that is exactly what those bodily functions facilitated .  Lawful sexual intercourse is already pure, and it points beyond itself.  It’s about relationship at its most intense, intimate, and productive level, and it reflects something of the intense, intimate, and productive relationship of Father, Son, and Spirit.

Our experience on earth, even in lawful matrimony, often falls well short of this ideal.  And turning from these Gates of Splendor to the squirmy subject of masturbation is a big step down: awkward and fraught with guilt.  We don’t want to go there.  We don’t want the Holy Trinity in our walk-in closets or under our sneaky sheets–and really, can’t we have a little privacy here?  Surely there’s a place we can carve out for ourselves alone.  There must be a place, not just in our homes but in our heads, where we can retreat for a few minutes and relieve a little pressure, purge of those disturbing fantasies, take a quick dip in mindless therapeutic pleasure and emerge clearheaded and ready to take hold of a straight untangled mission.  Just wait here, Lord—I’ll be right back.

But . . . seriously?

We know better.  “Know ye not that your bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit?”  That he goes where we go?  That we can’t retreat to our inner sanctum and lock him out?

Nobody knew this better than Jesus did.  Nobody was indwelt like he was.  Still . . . he was tempted in all ways as we are.  All ways means all ways.

Don’t we tend to think that it was really kind of easy for him to resist temptation?  Except for that last, of going to the cross—of course that was hard.  And maybe the one about turning stones to bread when he was hungry.  After a 40-day fast, of course he was hungry!  So sure, that was probably a tough one too, but the rest of the temptations he was subject to must not have been that difficult for the man-who-was-God.  Or so we tend to think.

And that’s how we underestimate Satan, to our great disadvantage.  His most potent temptation is this: Take the fast lane.  The lure for Christ was to shortcut the process of “learning obedience through suffering” (Heb. 5:8), to reach across the grand redemption plan, to seize the crown that was rightfully his.  Isn’t that the heart of temptation for us–to forgo process and go straight for satisfaction in whatever form it appears?  Jesus faced this too, in all ways.  He knows our every weakness in the biblical sense of experiencing it, not just mentally acknowledging it, Yet without sin.  No shortcuts.  He took the long hard way of the cross—meaning that, when it was time to claim his rightful crown, he would not be alone.  He would take us with him.

Now . . . all this will likely seem hopelessly abstract to the teenage boy or the frustrated single woman.  Christian counselors and doctors make good-faith efforts to reconcile biological drives with biblical principles, a tension stretched further by an oversexed culture and delayed marriage.  Some grant that masturbation may be a useful therapeutic tool as long as it doesn’t become obsessive, has no pornographic connections, and is divorced as far as possible from erotic thought (like a good deep-tissue massage).  I can’t judge the wisdom of that for any one person.  Just a few contrasts to keep in mind:

  • Sex is intended for relationship. Masturbation is solitary.
  • Relationships take work. Masturbation is easy.
  • We are intended for perfect union with Christ. Masturbation is the last place we want him.
  • This union isn’t sexual, but is better than sex.  Masturbation, while it lasts, whispers that there’s nothing better.

My best attempt at practical application is this.  If you’ve already given in to this temptation, more times than you care to count, remember that Christ was tempted in all respects as we are.  That’s your comfort.  Yet without sin—that’s your salvation.  You won’t be able to pull him down to your level but he will, in time, bring you up to his.  Temptation is a trial but it’s also an opportunity to work on that relationship and begin laying up what will be treasure in heaven: that satisfaction you longed for all your life, fully met and never ending.

Bible Challenge, Week 14: The People – Sacrifice

Leviticus is often called the “graveyard of daily Bible reading plans,” because when you turn the page after Exodus all your good intentions to stay awake fall off a cliff.  Detailed instructions for festivals and holy days, scrubbing your leprous walls, burying your polluted waste, purifying your bodily discharges . . .   What could have less relevance today?

The problem of our inattention just may be with us.  Leviticus is all about that which is holy and unholy, clean and unclean.  Israel is a people set apart, and so are we.  The sacrificial system is obsolete, and we don’t have to worry about sanitation rules so much, but one takeaway remains: to be set apart takes thought and effort. Last week we saw how God intended to remain among His people, and took the steps to make that possible.  It’s worth asking, how does He remain among us today, and what does it take for us to be “set apart”?

Click here for a printable download of this week’s challenge, including scripture readings, questions, and activities:

Bible Challenge Week 14: The People – Sacrifice

(This is a continuation of a series of posts about the “whole story” of the Bible.  I plan to run one every week, on Tuesdays, with a printable PDF.  The printable includes a brief 2-3 paragraph introduction, Bible passages to read, a key verse, 5-7 thought/discussion questions, and 2-3 activities for the kids.  Here’s the Overview of the entire Bible series.)

Previous: Week 13: The People – Tabernacle

Next: Week 15: The People – Blessings and Curses

A New Creation?

About twenty years ago, a close friend learned that her youngest son had Duchenne MD, the worst form of Muscular Dystrophy.  It meant gradual weakening, teen years in a wheelchair, and an early death, perhaps by his mid-twenties.  She told me it changed everything: how she thought, how she planned her day, how she cleaned, how she cooked.  The only hope for that boy, then as now, was gene therapy.

Earlier this year, the scientific world buzzed with news about a method of gene therapy called CRISPR.  Without getting too technical, CRISPR uses an enzyme at the molecular level to cut harmful genes out of a subject’s DNA; “gene editing” is an accurate description.  The effect not only alters the subject, but all of his or her descendants.  CRISPR is not yet approved by the FDA for test purposes in the USA, but that hasn’t stopped scientists in Asia and Europe—or even here in the USA.

A few weeks ago this headline from the New Scientist website grabbed me: Biohackers are using CRISPR on their DNA and we can’t stop it.  It seems that one Josiah Zayner , a kind of science auteur, wowed multitudes on Facebook by injecting himself with the Cas9 enzyme that will theoretically alter his muscle mass.  And you can do it, too!  He’s published a DIY Human CRISPR Guide online and will sell you a kit to get started.

Well—that was fast.

Zayner’s enterprising spirit sounds like the good ol’ American hustle.  More seriously, Brian Hanley of Davis, California, got approval from a UC academic review board to test a self-designed gene therapy.  He didn’t tell them he planned to use it on himself, but . . . too late now.   Just last week, at Benioff Children’s Hospital in San Francisco, a 44-year-old with a rare genetic disease became “The First Man to Have Genes Edited inside His Body” using a procedure similar to CRISPR.

All these experiments may or may not succeed: the record of science is roughly two steps forward, one step back, with casualties strewn along the way to progress.  But it’s still progress, right?  Isn’t it good news that genetic diseases like Duchenne will, in all likelihood, be eliminated?  And if that’s so, why do we feel so nervous about it?

Granted, some people aren’t nervous at all.  The coming age of transhumanism can’t get here fast enough (provided we’re not overtaken by robots first).  But for the rest of us, what exactly is a bridge too far?

On the plain of Shinar, a people long ago proposed to build a tower to the heavens—the first application of technology to human progress (post-flood, anyway).  Observing this, the Lord noted, “This is only the beginning—nothing they propose to do will now be impossible for them.”  He wasn’t ready for that, so he broke up their communication, forcing them into ethnic groups that separated from each other.  That pretty much did it for science, for the next 2000 years—the great strides that began in the Scientific Revolution came as a result of shared information across national boundaries.  That communication continued and shows no signs of slowing down now; in fact, it’s sped up exponentially.  But where will it end?

Back to Babel, and “nothing they propose to do will be impossible for them.”  The Lord seems to have a higher opinion of our abilities than we do, and I guess he should.  He knows what we’re capable of, both the positive and the negative.

It remains to be seen if 21st-century science can change the very nature of humanity, or if unintended consequences will overwhelm any real gains.  But even if we could change the nature of humanity I still wonder if he’ll let us get away with it.  Mankind is his image—will he put up with altering the image?

I don’t think so.  I think he’ll stop it, by somehow confounding our communication, or hoisting us on our own petard of unintended consequences.  Or—he’ll stop everything.