Jesus' Resurrection: 'The First Installment'

Roman Catholic priest and New Testament scholar Gerald O'Collins tends toward universalism and has a less than robust view of Scripture, seeing historical revisionism and significant redaction in both Testaments.

But the edifying tone of his scholarship combined with his refusal to try to sound intellectually impressive is a breath of fresh air. I especially like some remarks he makes in a new book of his about the eschatological significance of Christ's resurrection:

For New Testament Christians, the resurrection of Jesus is inextricably linked to a new creation that touches the entire universe. This resurrection is nothing less than a (new) creative activity of God that initiates the end of all things (Rev 21-22). (p. 101)

"Reconciling all things" (Col 1:20), "gathering up all things" (Eph 1:10), or "making all things new" (Rev 1:5) puts the resurrection and redemption in a cosmic context. The resurrection of Christ had not happened without, and certainly not against, creation. It brought a new world in which not only human beings but also all living creatures and the Earth itself would share. (119)

The new creation, which opened with the events of the first Good Friday and Easter Sunday, produced a state of affairs that anticipated the consummation of life in the new Jerusalem conveyed by Revelation 21-22. The risen and transformed Jesus was the first installment of what would come at the end (1 Cor 15:20). . . . We live now in the situation of the already present kingdom that anticipates, in reality and not merely in thought, the final fullness of the kingdom. (120).

--Gerald O'Collins, Believing in the Resurrection: The Meaning and Promise of the Risen Jesus (Paulist, 2012)

Where Psalm 51 Takes Us

Can this really be true?

I don't know if I believe it.

Misplaced Sorrow

Toward the end of Anne Bronte's (sister of Charlotte) The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Gilbert laments that one day his romantic relationship with Helen will come to an end when one of them dies and goes off to heaven. He is also dismayed that she seems unbothered by this. "But how can you, Helen, contemplate with delight this prospect of losing me in a sea of glory?"

Helen responds:

"I own I cannot; but we know not that it will be so; and I do know that to regret the exchange of earthly pleasures for the joys of Heaven, is as if the groveling caterpillar should lament that it must one day quit the nibbled lead to soar aloft and flutter through the air, roving at will from flower to flower, sipping sweet honey from their cups or basking in their sunny petals. If there little creatures knew how great a change awaited them, no doubt they would regret it; but would not all such sorrow be misplaced?"

--Anne Bronte, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, in The Life and Works of the Sisters Bronte (7 vols; New York: Harper, 1900), 6:412

The Lifeline Is a Death Line

In the essay "A Slip of the Tongue," Lewis is talking about how reluctant we are to give ourselves fully to the Lord, how frighteningly dangerous that feels--and yet how it is our only safety.

This is my endless recurrent temptation: to go down to that Sea (I think St. John of the Cross called God a sea) and there neither dive nor swim nor float, but only dabble and splash, careful not to get out of my depth and holding on to the lifeline which connects me with things temporal. . . .

Our temptation is to look eagerly for the minimum that will be accepted. We are in fact very like honest but reluctant taxpayers. We approve of an income tax in principle. . . . But we dread a rise in the tax. We are very careful to pay no more than is necessary. And we hope--we very ardently hope--that after we have paid it there will still be enough left to live on. . . .

Swimming lessons are better than a lifeline to the shore. For of course that lifeline is really a death line. There is no parallel to paying taxes and living on the remainder. For it is not so much of our time and so much of our attention that God demands; it is not even all our time and all our attention; it is ourselves. 

--C. S. Lewis, 'A Slip of the Tongue,' in The Weight of Glory, 139-41

Faith: 'Get You to Christ'

Evangelista, the wise Christian in Fisher's Marrow of Modern Divinity, on faith:

I pity the preposterous care and unhappy travail of many, who study the practice of this and that virtue, neglecting this cardinal and radical virtue; as if a man should water all the tree, and not the root. Fain would they shine in patience, meekness, and zeal, and ye are not careful to establish and root themselves in faith, which should maintain all the rest. . . .

To pray, to meditate, to keep a Sabbath cheerfully, to have your conversation heavenly, is as impossible for you yourself to do, as for iron to swim, or for stones to ascend upwards; but yet nothing is impossible to faith; it can naturalize these things unto you; it can make a mole of the earth a soul of heaven.

Wherefore, though you have tried all moral conclusions of purposing, promising, resolving, vowing, fasting, watching, and self-revenge; yet get you to Christ, and with the finger of faith touch but the hem of his garment; and you shall feel virtue come from him, for the curing of all your diseases.

Wherefore I beseech you, come out of yourself unto Jesus Christ, and apprehend him by faith. . . . and then you shall find yourself loathing sin, and loving the law of Christ; yea, then shall you find your corruptions dying and decaying daily, more and more.

--Edward Fisher, The Marrow of Modern Divinity (Christian Focus, 2009), 222

Restlessness

In 1990 Jack Miller wrote a letter to his fellow elders at New Life Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia. The subject was how they could best care for Andrew, a young man with AIDS. Jack enclosed in the letter to the elders a copy of a long letter he had written to Andrew.

Jack said to the elders:

The letter to Andrew is based on some strong meditation/medicine which derives from Psalm 84 and that wise man Augustine. In the letter I mention its content as also issuing from my struggles with health in Nairobi. All of this is true enough, but the letter has roots in another burden of mine. It has to do with the restlessness of this generation; people everywhere seem to be trying to build a permanent home in this world and do it just as fast as they can.

Incredible restlness everywhere!

Restlessness in the world, and everlasting stirring in the church members and leaders.

My guy feeling is that much of this activity is based upon the unconscious notion that this world is a pretty permanent place, an arena where we can make our home, build our reputations, get ahead in our ambitions, secure the right education, etc. Well, I want to raise the question: Is this restlessness fleshly and also demonic in its power over our hearts in our time? I suspect this restlessness has roots in hell. Consider its subtlety. Who can repent when he is going at warp speed? 

--The Heart of a Servant Leader: Letters from Jack Miller (P&R 2004), 290-91

What Did the Original Readers Think the Gospels Were?

Jesus Broke the Great Breaker

Michael Williams of Calvin Seminary on the heart of Ephesians:

Jesus' death on the cross paid the debt of our sin and also drove a stake into the heart of its ability to produce brokenness. Jesus broke the Great Breaker. Jesus broke the back of sin so that it can only exert any of its slithery, divisive influence on us when we choose to go visit it in the hospital. 

--Michael Williams, How to Read the Bible through the Jesus Lens: A Guide to Christ-Focused Reading of Scripture (Zondervan, 2012), 199

Along with this brief word from Michael about his book, note also the below event at Calvin Seminary that includes a presentation from Michael and then extensive Q&A with him about the book:

Rest for Your Soul

Staying Christian in Seminary

Posted by request of our friends at Desiring God

What's the secret to soul-health while in seminary?

There are many good things to be said. Stay prayerful, be involved in the local church, cultivate meaningful friendships, fight for sexual sanity, find a brother to confess your sins to, get enough sleep, don’t neglect your wife if married. All important.

But above all else I would say two things to a young man given the privilege of seminary: you are justified by another, and you are strong in weakness.

1. You are justified by another.

Fallen human beings are walking courtrooms.

Internal, tense, anxious, emotional scurrying about will define your seminary experience if you do not settle the astounding truth that for those united to Christ the courtroom verdict over your life is now a past reality rather than a future one. It’s behind you, not before you. A period, not a question mark. You are justified.

In a strange and wonderful text in Isaiah 28, God declared that the inscription on the cornerstone of the future temple would be, “Whoever believes will not be in haste” (Isa. 28:16). Have you tasted that?

The unanswered questions of the heart not at rest are: Am I ok? Do I matter? Who am I before others? How do I measure up? Am I significant? What’s the judgment over my life?

But when Jesus came he didn't tell us to provide self-generated answers to these questions. He said he came to give rest (Matt. 11:28-30). He came to stop the haste. Paul even took Isaiah 28 and said Jesus is that cornerstone so that whoever believes in Christ will not be in haste (Rom. 9:33; 10:11).

In seminary as much as any time in your life you must remember that the sigh of the soul you so desperately desire is yours, freely, abundantly, as you trust in Christ, the radiant Friend of screw-ups. United to him, you are co-justified with him. For you to be un-okayed, Jesus would have to be un-okayed. His verdict is in, and therefore yours is in.

That’s hard, strangely hard, to remember. For various reasons it’s especially hard to remember in seminary. While studying the Bible as a full-time student I found I could write a paper on justification by faith alone and then seek to be justified by its publication.

At Covenant Seminary I startled myself with how quickly I slipped into impress-mode around professors I admired. I forgot the verdict was in. I was bolstering what God thought of me with what others thought of me. Justification plus. Haste.

The pressures of seminary will force you either into greater rest or greater haste. One thing determines which way you go: regular heart-bathing in the gospel of a secured, irreversible verdict won by the now un-condemnable Christ.

His unflappable hug, his undentable favor, is impervious to your mediocre grades, fickle human approval, up-and-down marriage, number of Twitter followers, or how long it’s been since you abused Youtube.

How do you stay Christian in seminary? Above all else, defibrillate your heart daily with the invincible favor of God shining down on you because of the love and sacrifice of another.

Only the doctrine of justification by faith alone will enable you to experience seminary as joyful, relaxed ministry training rather than frantic, fretful impressing.

2. You are strong in weakness.

Few things bring our weakness to the surface like seminary. Spending all day with classmates who read faster than you, memorize paradigms more easily than you do, and preach better than you do pours gasoline on the flames of our insecurity. Ongoing moral failure--for young men in today's hypersexualized world I am thinking especially of sexual failure, though spiritual pride, laziness, envy, intellectual haughtiness, and a bent toward divisiveness also reveal our weakness.

Seminary gathers up all our latent insecurities and forces them before us. We begin to ask questions of ourselves.

Am I supposed to be here? we wonder. Shouldn't I be better at the languages if this is where God wants me? Shouldn't I be able to preach in front of 8 brothers in a homiletics practicum without my eyes being chained to my notes and my palms sweating? Shouldn’t my finances be less strapped if seminary is the Lord’s good purpose in my life? Shouldn’t I be able to finally kick that habitual sin if I’m spending so much time pondering God and the Bible?

Brother: those soul-squeezing questions are your friends. Without them you would coast through seminary and graduate a shallow, twaddling little man with no depth and trite answers.

God’s grace is sufficient for you. Get over yourself. You are weak. You are inadequate. You always will be. And the story of the Bible is God’s delight in taking weak, inadequate men and doing the unthinkable. Stop insulting the Holy Spirit. Your weakness is the single crucial prerequisite for him to make your life a miracle. To think “I don’t have what it takes” is precisely what it takes. Don’t try to overcome your weakness. Leverage your weakness into a lifetime of 1 Corinthians 2:1–5 ministry.

God’s power is made perfect in your weakness.