:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

These two men were responsible. They had business to take care of, and they were not idle in addressing it. One was fixing his nets along the shore of Galilee, the other had to take care of his father’s burial.

Culturally speaking, the man tasked with burying his father was especially living in careful observance of the law. He was in the right place, doing what mattered.

The difference between the two men came when Jesus called, saying, “Follow me.” This wasn’t something that could be delayed. Jesus literally wanted them to drop what they were doing and to reorient their lives around him.

One man knew when to stop, dropping the lower priorities for the person who mattered most.

The other man asked for time so that he could wrap up his obligations and still follow Jesus.

Learning how to stop is difficult, especially when you think you’re doing everything right. Other priorities can interfere when the most important call comes to us.

Can we stop?

Are we cultivating practices that help us stop daily to hear God’s voice?

Are we ready to stop and respond when the call comes?

John the Baptist had some dirty work to do. I’m not talking about munching on locusts or roaming around the desert. I’m talking about challenging people to bring their sins out before God, confess their sins, and prepare themselves to enter God’s Kingdom.

This was not flashy ministry. He didn’t perform any miracles or signs that we know of. He simply pointed people back to God, and the only way to God involved repentance. He challenged people to face their issues.

There is no short cut to revival.

Any serious steps forward into the holiness and joy of God must first trudge through our junk, our dark areas that we’d rather forget. If we want to go anywhere with God, our dirty baggage needs to be tossed. Otherwise it will hold us back.

As I look back at my own life, I’ve seen this principle time and time again. In fact, there are times when I’ve opened myself up to the Holy Spirit’s leading and suddenly discovered some bitterness or anger I’d been hiding just below the surface.

It’s not pleasant to have my personal delusions challenged.

And yet, growing into the freedom and power of God’s Kingdom demands an ongoing housecleaning. Oftentimes I also find that once I stop clearing things out, I begin adding more junk.

Living in God’s Kingdom is a constant work of faith that is demanding, but promises rewards that we have yet to fathom.

She wanted what was best for her two sons like any other mother. Placing them in a position to succeed far above their peers, she didn’t care what anyone else thought of her. She selflessly placed her sons ahead of her own interests.

As for the sons, they were very concerned about their own futures as well. They liked what their mother had planned for them, and they believed they were up to any challenge that came along. Ambition and courage are probably two traits we’d associate with them.

They were ready to do whatever it took to be the best.

Speaking in generalities like this, our mother and her two sons seem noble, motivated, and ambitious. However, this isn’t a story about that. This is a story about the sons of Zebedee, James and John, and their mother.

Supposing that their father had passed away, it would make sense that the mother of James and John wanted a personal assurance from Jesus that her sons would reign with him on his right and left hand. She wanted security and status for her sons.

Jesus had called his followers to leave their ambitions behind, to become like children, and to expect persecution. Then James and John walked up to him and essentially asked this question, “What about me?”

After all of Jesus’ talk about self-sacrifice and loss, James and John couldn’t resist this thought, “If God is really on my side, then he can give me what I want.”

“What about me?” is a destructive question for disciples. It takes us away from God’s plans and priorities. It forgets that God leads, empowers, and glorifies us as he pleases. We’re not the ones who set the agenda.

“What do you want?” is the question disciples ask their Lord. “What about me?” leads to fear, insecurity, stress, and anger because we can’t control our lives and what we get. When we entrust ourselves into God’s power, we let go of control, live by faith, and free ourselves from fear and anger.

“What do you want?” places the burden on Jesus, which is actually what he wants. He told those who are weary and weighed down to come to him for rest. God wants to guide us and give us peace, but we need to let go first and stop asking “What about me?”

I don’t know if you’ve ever written something that was completely misunderstood or taken out of context. It’s a strange feeling.

Some guy reviewed my book Coffeehouse Theology after reading only part of it, and he accused me of being an anything goes relativist.

Another guy read Coffeehouse Theology and said that I clearly just wanted to be Catholic.

I laughed out loud at that one.

Just to set the record straight, neither of those things are true. However, once you’ve written a book and put it out there, people will read it and arrive at their own conclusions. While I have the luxury of speaking out in reply to some readings of my book, the authors of older books can’t help us set the record straight.

In the case of the Bible, we usually try to figure out who the author was, who his audience was, what form of literature the book is, and what he was trying to say to them through that literary form. In other words, we don’t read the Psalms as if they were epistles. We don’t read the prophetic books as if they were law.

And then there’s the Book of Revelation.

Revelation: God Kills Lots of People. The End?

It’s one of the books we’ve learned to avoid because it seems to say that God is coming to kill almost everyone.

I’ve written some posts explaining what I think Revelation means, and to be honest, I think it’s a book with a lot of good news. If John, the book’s author, was around today, he’d probably lose his mind.

We have associated Revelation with plagues, persecution, and a violent God who comes storming down from heaven to destroy the earth. Is it any wonder that when some guy predicts the world will end this Saturday, we become a little uneasy or troubled?

For most Christians, the end of the world is sort of good news. I mean, Jesus is returning, right?

Yah Jesus.

However, mixed in with that is a lot of really terrifying stuff that we’ve pulled from the imagery in Revelation. And even if we don’t necessarily buy into all of the stuff about the mark of the beast and the one-world government, we’re still a little uneasy at best when we think about “the end.”

This is because we’ve really misunderstood Revelation.

If we can return to the author’s original context and intent, we can see right off that it was written to people who were suffering persecution and martyrdom. Heck, the author was exiled.

Do we honestly think he’d want to write a book to scare the hell out of his audience who were already living with intense persecution?

Why Revelation Was Written

The book was originally written to give its first audience a glimpse into their own future by using the imagery of Jewish apocalyptic writing—a form that would have been quite familiar to them.

The point of Revelation wasn’t to predict terrifying literal plagues, literal beasts, or even literal battles. It’s not supposed to be a terrifying book. It’s supposed to be a comforting book that brings good news with a reality check that should give God’s enemies pause.

For people who were suffering, Revelation told them to hold on and wait for God’s deliverance. It’s a book written for people who were asking tough questions about evil and the plans of God. By giving his readers a glimpse of heaven, John wanted his readers to hang on and wait.

In other words, Revelation gives us a glimpse into the spiritual battles going on all around us. It certainly affirms the fact that Jesus will return and that God will win the battle over evil. However, this isn’t primarily a book about our future, it’s a book about our present.

Revelation is About Removing Fear

In the final chapters of Revelation, the bride of Christ is revealed, God declares that he is dwelling among his people, God promises springs of living water, and Jesus says “It is finished.” Call me crazy, but those all refer to things that have already happened in the Gospels. While Revelation may be talking about their complete fulfillment, these events shouldn’t seem all that strange after Jesus declared, “the Kingdom of God has come.”

I can’t predict what the future holds, and I don’t know for certain what Revelation says about it. However, I don’t think it describes anything that should keep us up at night. Since we’re unfamiliar with the original context of Revelation and the apocalyptic imagery it used, we should avoid reading anything literally with a sense of absolute certainty.

The picture Revelation paints is one of a God who is just, who fights against evil, and who lives with his people. Suffering will happen. Some will fight against God’s plans and lose.

For people who are asking tough questions or are terrified at the thought of the “world coming to an end,” keep in mind that Revelation was written in order to draw us near to God, not to keep us away from him. This is the book where God is wiping away every tear. Revelation ends with the beautiful verse:

The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.” Let each one who hears them say, “Come.” Let the thirsty ones come—anyone who wants to. Let them come and drink the water of life without charge.

If we can read Revelation and find a God who says, “Come!” then we’re close to finding what the original author intended.

When I began to dig into the world of biblical studies at a Christian college, I began to read commentaries. Some focused on the literary forms and cultural settings of each book. Others dug into what the books of the Bible meant.

Both had value, but neither provided particularly interesting reading. Sometimes I felt like they focused on the pieces of scripture to the detriment of the whole. While there is a place for commentaries that dig into the language and historical setting of the Bible, I longed for something that would help me read scripture with fresh eyes and do a better job of connecting its implications to everyday life.

It was as if I understood Jesus alright in his setting and found the Bible fascinating, but I was still reading scripture in a rather detached manner.

The books that tried to fill this need didn’t quite work for me.

Perhaps the NIV Application Commentary tried the hardest to bridge this divide, but it was still tough to dig into. Today NT Wright has produced a wonderfully accessible commentary series “For Everyone” that makes good scholarship accessible, but I still hadn’t found a commentary focused specifically on connecting the narrative scope of each biblical book with today, that is, until I learned about the Resonate commentary series that is edited by Paul Louis Metzger and David Sanford.

I write about Resonate as an endorser with a free copy by my nightstand, but I honestly dislike reviewing books so much that I would only put myself through it for a book that I truly enjoy and value. Metzger is a theologian who has successfully managed to engage culture without becoming captive to it, and he has given us a readable series of essays on John that make for great reading.

I’m a big fan of Metzger’s book Consuming Jesus, and after reading this commentary of John, When Love Comes to Town, I’m impressed with his approach. He describes his angle in the following way:

“The aim of the Resonate series is to provide spiritual nourishment that is biblically and theologically orthodox and culturally significant. The form each volume in the series will take is that of an extended essay” (12).

Resonate offers a big picture view of the biblical text, digs into some of the key points (remember, the goal is spiritual nourishment, not comprehensive explanations), and works readers through a reflective essay that seamlessly integrates the message with application to today. It doesn’t feel contrived or clunky, which is nothing short of a miracle if you’re familiar with books that try to do this.

Perhaps my greatest pet-peeve is the “Kids today!” approach to some Christian writers take in opposition to culture—as if the writer needs to attack everything suspect in the culture today with “solid biblical truth.” Metzger gives priority to the Bible and its controlling narrative for creation, while studying and interpreting culture in order to apply the Bible to culture. His approach is more conversational and ultimately more constructive.

The Gospel of John commentary in the Resonate series is readable and presents a fresh reading of scripture that is far more readable than a commentary, but still quite substantive. You won’t find insight into the language and history of the Bible, but then again, you can find that elsewhere—Resonate does not aim to offer those things because we’re practically buried in commentaries and dictionaries.

I mean, have you seen one of those Christian book catalogues???

This is a book that pastors and students can dig into when their eyes are crossing after parsing Greek verbs and reading primary source material from ancient times.

This is a book for the church-goer who won’t pick up a thick commentary, but still craves a thorough explanation and application of John’s Gospel.

I’m currently reading NT Wright’s commentary John for Everyone in my small group, and I think Wright and Metzger provide an excellent one-two punch—Wright offering some accessible background material and details, with Metzger tapping into the big picture of the story and some critical application points for today.

Reader be warned, this is a thick book with lots of text on each page, but it is quite readable and engaging. The pages go by pretty fast, the insights are helpful, and Metzger writes with a personal engagement and honesty that is lacking in many books in the biblical studies category.

For more info, swing by the IVP Resonate page or read a sample chapter.

My thanks to Paul, David, and IVP for the review copy!

While growing up as a Catholic, faithfulness was generally defined as attending church, confessing regularly, and taking Communion. That was the bare minimum you had to meet in order to be considered a good Catholic. Some Catholics did more, some did less, and quite a few shared my take on things.

As a Protestant I added daily prayer and Bible reading to the list, kept weekly church attendance in the mix, and volunteered at church on a regular basis. Sometimes I’d participate in outreach or missions work, but that was more like a yearly trip.

I was praying one day back in college, and I had an uneasy feeling when I began to ask myself some tough questions such as, “Are you a faithful follower of Jesus?”

I thought to myself, “Of course, I pray and read the Bible.” But was that what Jesus had in mind for his disciples? I’ve been rethinking that question and my answer for the past eight years.

In Matthew 11:2-6 John the Baptist voiced his doubts about whether Jesus was the Messiah. He had expectations about what a Messiah is supposed to do, but Jesus didn’t meet them. We read the following exchange in Matthew:

“When John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

John’s question for Jesus is loaded with implications: Does God really care about all of the stuff you’re doing? Are you faithfully representing God?

Jesus redefines faithfulness for John. God cares about things John didn’t quite expect God to care about. Jesus could have pointed to the content of his teaching or his religious observances. He didn’t.

The work of Jesus among the poor, his healing works, and his act of proclaiming the Gospel marked a successful and faithful ministry. While we can agree that these were the marks of a Messiah, our next question is: What do these marks mean for us?

Where we are, and where we’re going… My theory at this point is that the same marks Jesus used to validate his ministry also apply to faithful discipleship—how we define faithfully following Jesus. We’ll look at some passages tomorrow that will help us figure out what all of this means for us.

My homiletics (preaching) professor trained me to make scripture easy to understand and to explain exactly what each passage means to my audience. While there is some value in biblical study and clear explanation for a group, we should not forget that Jesus didn’t always follow such a strategy.

Besides making difficult and challenging demands of his followers, Jesus made several confusing statements that left his audience wondering what he meant or even if he was possessed by a demon. As a result of these exchanges Jesus lost followers, received accusations, and was written off by many in his audience.

Many of his listeners stopped following when he claimed the following: I am the bread of life, my followers will never die, and you will see the Son of Man ascending and descending. He told parables with hidden and powerful meanings that cut to the hearts of some listeners and left others confused and bewildered.

Reaching an Audience

Jesus had a message from God to communicate, but he didn’t define success for his message by the size of his audience. It’s jarring to realize that Jesus could have probably grown a larger base of followers by toning down his message or explaining his theology better.

Perhaps we need to ponder this practice for ourselves as we consider the ways we teach and communicate spiritual truths. Are there times when we need to leave certain things unsaid so that our listeners are challenged to do their own thinking? Are we making it too easy to follow Jesus by always pressing for “the answer”?

The Benefits of Confusing Statements

Jesus left certain parts of of his message embedded in metaphors and parables so that his listeners had to ponder their meaning. I like the implication that understanding his teachings required dedicated time to think on them.

For disciples who are called to leave everything behind in order to follow Jesus, they shouldn’t be surprised when he also asks them to think long and hard about his teachings. John’s Gospel notes certain points (such as chapter 6) when the crowds balked at the words of Jesus. John, who often inserted explanations of what Jesus meant, didn’t offer an explanation for us either.

The author of the fourth Gospel knew that even as he recounted the life and teachings of Jesus, certain things should remain shrouded in mystery and ambiguity so that future disciples will ponder the teachings of Jesus anew and seek the guidance of his Holy Spirit.

This assaults are preferences for simple answers and clear explanations, but it assures us that the message of God can find a more lasting and permanent place in our hearts as we invest in pondering its meaning.

Can you imagine what would happen if your pastor began his sermon on God’s covenant with Abraham by comparing a modern business contract? We’d learn hardly anything of value about the ancient story from such a contemporary example.

In fact, we run the risk of misunderstanding the significance of certain elements of the story. There is much more value in comparing God’s covenant with Abraham to ancient Suzerainty covenants from the same time. In studying these ancient documents we discover the unique significance of what God promised Abraham.

By the same token, most scholars and teachers study Paul’s epistles by comparing them to letters written by Paul’s contemporaries. I doubt a comparison to a “Dear Abby” letter would provide the illumination we seek. The same goes for comparing the Gospels to ancient works of history.

Revelation as Literature

When it comes to Revelation, many read it as a blow-by-blow account of future history. They turn it into a prophetic and predictive mash up, seeing it as a highly symbolic chronicle of the future that can be matched up piece by piece with certain events and people.

However, there are a number of books quite similar to the book of Revelation that stand out as contemporaries and demand our attention. To ignore them would cut us off from the best sources we have for understanding a very confusing and symbolic book.

Many scholars agree that Revelation is undeniably a Christian form of apocalyptic literature. In doing this we are also affirming the Jewish roots of the New Testament that are easy to overlook 2,000 years after these books were written.

Revelation as Apocalyptic Literature

When I first read Jewish apocalyptic literature, my mind almost exploded. I kept thinking to myself, “This is just like the book of Revelation!” There were heavenly visions, angelic guides, symbolic beasts and horns, battles between good and evil, and God’s triumph and judgment of evil.

For example, have a look at 2 Esdras 16 and consider if any of that sounds familiar. Chapter 15 should sound familiar too for that matter. For more info, see: Esdras.

In short, Revelation utilizes many of the existing literary elements of a particular genre. The original audience of Revelation would have known how these elements worked and interpreted them accordingly.

This means we need to understand how apocalyptic literature functioned within the Jewish context and how the author of Revelation used this form to communicate with his audience. It is quite possible that the author of Revelation was John the apostle and he did in fact have a heavenly vision. However, whether or not that actually happened, he certainly used a very familiar form to communicate a particular message.

This is quite different from the Gospels, which are documenting historical events that truly do matter. The Gospels hinge on the historicity of what they say about Jesus, but Revelation is performing a different function as apocalyptic literature.

Apocalyptic literature was written during times of persecution as a way to encourage the faithful to endure to the end, to trust that God is fighting evil, and that God will triumph in the end. The symbolism and other-worldly nature of the writings may have been particularly helpful in avoiding the notice of authorities.

Therefore, if Revelation was a form of apocalyptic literature written during a time of persecution, which is most likely the case, what does this mean for our interpretations? Is this the end of the end as we know it? Should we toss our end times charts and the theology of the Left Behind Series? That’s where we’re going tomorrow.

Today I am offering a very brief snapshot of the history of interpreting Revelation, made all the more limited because I’m focusing on the outcomes that have impacted evangelicals. I’m generally going to avoid labels and technical terms in the interest of brevity, but these links will provide a next step with more information about Revelation and Christian eschatology.

Uncertainty About an Unusual Book

During the 100-300’s Revelation was included in many, though not all, lists of New Testament books in the West, while it was rejected by many churches in the East. It was generally interpreted as a prediction of the immanent return of Jesus in the future, but after Constantine rose to power Christians began to interpret it in more symbolic ways, a trend that generally held throughout the following years.

The return of Jesus wasn’t literal or immanent, but was rather a spiritual reality. The millennial reign was already in process, and the book did not line up with contemporary or future events and people.

Generally speaking, Christianity became increasingly distant from its Jewish roots after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 AD, an event that Christians fled due to the warnings of Jesus. While I can’t vouch for every theologian that followed, generally speaking the Jewish roots of the New Testament became less important, especially in the case of an obscure book such as Revelation that bore a resemblance to a small body of Jewish writings.

If Revelation wasn’t about the immanent return of Jesus in a series of cataclysmic global events, it also wasn’t recognized as a particularly Jewish kind of book. Without either of these options on the table, theologians in the west struggled to interpret it.

The Urgency Returns

Throughout the years Christian scholars wrestled with the meaning of Revelation, and throughout to the Reformation debates continued about its value. In the early to mid 1800’s, evangelical theologians in America found fertile ground for a reading of Revelation that interpreted it as a prophecy of future events that foreshadowed the literal return of Jesus.

An urgency and anticipation gripped evangelicalism in America and eventually in other countries. Some groups took the extreme measures of setting actual dates for the return of Jesus, but by and large the greater impact was one of urgency for evangelism and a fervency to remain close to Christ—shifts that leaders such as Moody viewed as beneficial.

However, throughout the late 1800’s the popularity of this view also led to a general withdrawal from many social programs that focused on serving the poor. In fact, historian David Bebbington cites this theological shift as influential in the gradual move away from evangelical social action at the turn of the 20^th century (The Dominance of Evangelicalism p. 200).

What’s Different Today?

Many modern scholars today make the faulty assumption that historians today care about the facts more than ancient historians and scholars. Just look at the circus known as the Jesus Seminar that has sought the real Jesus, but generally muddies the water. Such scholars see our traditions as a liability to be removed, which is quite wrong and unhelpful in the majority of cases.

However, when it comes to Revelation, the literary context of the book has been so widely unknown and its history of interpretation so uncertain and shifting, that I think a reexamination of the book is warranted. While we are not more intelligent or more committed to the facts than those before us, we do have a new angle on the book of Revelation in light of its contemporaries in Jewish literature.

By doing this, I think we can take some huge steps forward in our understanding of Revelation, our grasp of the larger biblical story, and the points of application to our daily lives.

A thought crossed my mind once. I shooed it away.

Then my father-in-law mentioned a passage from the Bible related to that thought. I pondered it a bit and thought it was a nice idea.

Then I looked at that passage again a year or so later, and it blew my mind. It’s John 3:27-30.

To this John replied, "A man can receive only what is given him from heaven. You yourselves can testify that I said, ‘I am not the Christ but am sent ahead of him.’ The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater; I must become less.

This is a truly incredible scene in the Bible. John had started a mass movement that many responded to. Keep in mind that Apollos was found in Ephesus (western coast of modern Turkey) teaching about John the Baptist years later. John was not a one-hit wonder, a passing fad, or a figure who fell from public favor.

He was simply over-shadowed by someone greater.

Though John wasn’t exactly living the comfy lifestyle that people such as myself practically demand of God—I’m not big on eating bugs—he could be described as “successful” in his ministry. Who would want to walk away from the kinds of crowds he drew?

The only way he could do that without losing his mind was by arriving at peace over God’s plan for his life, accepting the role that God set before him. In fact, he took great joy in being eclipsed by Jesus.

I know we all imagine ourselves as the leading role in the drama of our lives. Sometimes I get talking about “my life” and carry on for way too long. Who doesn’t love talking about himself/herself?

And so here’s the part where my mind started to overheat. What if the only reason why I’m here is to enable someone to do something great? What if I’m only here to set the stage for someone else? What if I’ll never see any of it come to fruition.

John sure didn’t. Come to think of it, from Abraham right on through the prophets, none of them saw what God had promised them—the blessing that would come to all people through the Messiah. John was SO CLOSE, and then he lost his head…

Sorry about that. I’m trying to cut down on those.

Rather than starring in my own drama, I may just be an extra or some kind of supporting role. And here’s the crazy thing, I can find a lot of peace and joy in playing my small part, whatever it is.

Perhaps the place where this has become most real is my profession of writing. The whole idea of writing is to build some kind of name, brand, and reputation for yourself. Without that, editors will ask, “Who are you and why are you the person to write this book?” It’s hard to walk that fine line between building a career and becoming a self-absorbed, self-serving narcissist.

One day God brought the thought to mind that perhaps I’ve become a writer simply to help other writers who will be better, more popular, and, sniff sniff, paid in larger sums. At that point I realized that I just need to do what God sets before me and not worry about the results. I can play a small part well, find contentment and joy, and then celebrate when I’ve helped someone else rise up to fulfill his/her God-given calling.

That can be a tough pill to swallow, but while I force it down my throat, I can also find renewed satisfaction with the role that God has chosen for me to fulfill even today. If only it paid a little better…