The Parting of the Sea

Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Three of my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to read last week’s post, which was taken from Chapter Two. About the photos above: (1) Filming the small group video on the crossing of the Reed Sea on location near Ismailia, Egypt. This is one of the small lakes some scholars have proposed was the Sea of Reeds. The Suez Canal now cuts through the eastern side of the lake. (2) Pharaoh Ramses II in his chariot marching into war – from the exterior of the Karnak Temple in Luxor.  (3)  An actual chariot that belonged to King Tutankhamun and was found in his tomb. Depending upon when Moses is dated, Moses was likely a contemporary of King Tut.   Today we pick up Moses’ story after Pharoah has freed the Israelites. Following the plague of the firstborn, Pharaoh released the Israelites, and they departed Pi-Ramesses in the middle of the night. Exodus 13:17-18 notes, When Pharaoh let the people go, God didn’t lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, even though that was the shorter route. God thought, If the people have to fight and face war, they will run back to Egypt. So God led the people by the roundabout way of the Reed Sea desert. In a strange turn of events, God commanded Moses to lead the people to set up camp in front of the Reed Sea. The Reed Sea is the literal reading of the Hebrew that is usually translated as “Red Sea.” To the Israelites, it must have seemed an odd place to camp. To the east was a marshy lake. To the west was Pharaoh’s Egypt. If for any reason Pharaoh should come after them, they would be trapped. But surely, they must have hoped, that would not happen. Pharaoh, hearing that the slaves had camped near the lake and now regretting his decision to let such a massive labor force go free, decided to go after them and to retrieve them as Egypt’s slaves. We read in Exodus 14:6-7, “So he sent for his chariot and took his army with him. He took six hundred elite chariots and all of Egypt’s other chariots with captains on all of them.” It was the elite chariots that made Pharaoh’s army so imposing. These were the latest in military technology. Examples of Pharaoh riding his chariot into battle can be seen in bas reliefs on the sides of many Egyptian temples that were built or expanded by Ramesses II. Amazingly, at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo you can see actual chariots used shortly before the time of the Exodus, which were wonderfully preserved in King Tut’s tomb. Exodus 14:9 notes, “The Egyptians, including all of Pharaoh’s horse-drawn chariots, his cavalry, and his army, chased them and caught up with them as they were camped by the sea.” Up to this point in the story, it had been Pharaoh and his gods with whom God had battled. Now, God was about to display his power against the greatest military power on earth at the time. We know from the battle of Kadesh, in which Ramesses II fought against the Hittites, that Egypt had several thousand chariots in addition to the six hundred elite chariots. The chariots were lighter and more advanced than those of other nations. One modern engineer described them as the Formula One racers of their time. Two horses would draw the chariot, which was piloted by one warrior while another, using Egypt’s advanced composite bows, fired at their enemies from a distance. As the charioteers drew closer, swords and spears were used. It is not difficult to imagine what the mostly unarmed Israelites were feeling as they saw the dust from Pharaoh’s chariots in the distance. The Israelites were terrified and cried out to the Lord. They said to Moses, “Weren’t there enough graves in Egypt that you took us away to die in the desert? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt like this? Didn’t we tell you the same thing in Egypt? ‘Leave us alone! Let us work for the Egyptians!’ It would have been better for us to work for the Egyptians than to die in the desert.” But Moses said to the people, “Don’t be afraid. Stand your ground, and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never ever see again. The Lord will fight for you. You just keep still.” (Exodus 14:10-14) Nightfall came, and the Egyptians made camp opposite the Israelites. God commanded Moses to lift his staff over the water. That night a strong east wind came blowing across the water toward the Israelites, and when morning came they found the water pushed back by the wind on either side of a path that had been cleared through the middle of the sea. Using the path, the Israelites walked through the water as if on dry land. The Egyptians tried to follow, but their chariots appeared to become stuck in the seabed, slowing them down. When the Israelites arrived on the other side of the sea, God commanded Moses to stretch back his staff over the waters. When he did, the waters returned, covering the Egyptian army and charioteers. The finest army in the land was utterly destroyed. As the Israelites stood watching this scene unfold, they were undoubtedly filled with awe. They had been utterly delivered from Pharaoh and the greatest military power of the day. A rabbi friend describing the Passover Seder noted, “This is our defining story. If you are a Jew, you’ve got to get this. It defines who we are as a people. We were slaves. God saw our suffering. God delivered us and made us his own. This is our story.” When God chose a people with whom he would have a special covenant relationship, he selected a group that was oppressed and enslaved. He delivered them by his “mighty right hand.” There was nothing they could have done to deliver themselves. There’s a word that describes this kind of salvation: grace. It was salvation that the Israelites did nothing to deserve; it was purely an act of God’s kindness, mercy, and love. What does the story mean for Christians? It means that God cares about the nobodies! It means that God will ultimately defeat the arrogant, prideful, and cruel. It means that God sees our suffering, and God will deliver us. It means that we don’t have to remain enslaved to the things that bind us. God can set us free. Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Three, “The Exodus,” from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.    

The Burning Bush

Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Two of my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to read last week’s post, which was taken from Chapter One. About the photo above: Part of the oldest section of St. Catherine’s Monastery, built atop the traditional location of Moses' encounter with God at the burning bush. Mt. Sinai rises behind in the background. Exodus tells us virtually nothing about the period of Moses’ life between age forty (when he killed the Egyptian) to age eighty (when Moses met God at a burning bush); in fact, this time period comprises only twelve verses. Exodus 2:23-25 marks the author’s transition from Moses settling in Midian to God’s call for him to return to Egypt: A long time passed, and the Egyptian king died. The Israelites were still groaning because of their hard work. They cried out, and their cry to be rescued from the hard work rose up to God. God heard their cry of grief, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God looked at the Israelites, and God understood. I love this passage. It tells us that God “heard” the cries of the Israelites; God “remembered” his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; God “looked” at the Israelites; and God “understood.” God then acted to get Moses’ attention, calling him to be God’s leader who would deliver the Israelites from bondage. Exodus 3 begins with these words: Moses was taking care of the flock for his father-in-law Jethro, Midian’s priest. He led his flock out to the edge of the desert, and he came to God’s mountain called Horeb.
 (Exodus 3:1)  On this particular day, when Moses was tending Jethro’s flock near Mount Horeb, he saw something most unusual—a bush that was burning but not being consumed—and a voice called out his name.  The Lord’s messenger appeared to him in a flame of fire in the middle of a bush. Moses saw that the bush was in flames, but it didn’t burn up. Then Moses said to himself, Let me check out this amazing sight and find out why the bush isn’t burning up. When the Lord saw that he was coming to look, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” Moses said, “I’m here.” Then the Lord said, “Don’t come any closer! Take off your sandals, because you are standing on holy ground.” (Exodus 3:2-5) In the Old Testament, the “Lord’s messenger” appears at some points to be a separate being (the word messenger is also translated as angel) while at other points this seems to be a way of referring to God’s direct appearance to an individual. God’s appearance at Mount Horeb was in the form of flames in a bush. God often appeared in Scripture in the midst of flames. In Genesis 15:17 God appeared to Abraham as a “fiery flame.” Beginning in Exodus 13, God would lead the Israelites as a “pillar of fire” (NRSV). Later, when God appeared to the Israelites in Exodus 24:17, “The Lord’s glorious presence looked like a blazing fire on top of the mountain.” In Daniel 7:9, God sat on a throne ablaze with flames. In Acts 2, when the Holy Spirit descends upon the disciples, the Spirit appeared as flames of fire. And Hebrews 12:28-29 (NIV) tells Christians to “worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our ‘God is a consuming fire.’”  Consider what God says next to Moses: He continued, “I am the God of your father, Abraham’s God, Isaac’s God, and Jacob’s God.” Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God. Then the Lord said, “I’ve clearly seen my people oppressed in Egypt. I’ve heard their cry of injustice because of their slave masters. I know about their pain. I’ve come down to rescue them from the Egyptians. . . . So get going. I’m sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.”  (Exodus 3:6-8, 10) Notice how, having seen, heard, and known the pain of the Israelites, God responded. He did not send a legion of angels to liberate the Israelite slaves from Egypt. No, God showed up in a burning bush to an eighty-year-old shepherd! And not just any eighty-year-old shepherd. He found a shepherd who was fluent in the Egyptian language, who had been an insider when it came to Egyptian power and rule, and who knew philosophy, religion, law, governance, and leadership. He called an eighty-year-old shepherd who once had felt such indignation at the oppression of the Israelites that he killed a man to stop it. God didn’t send an angel; he sent a person. God said to Moses, “Get going! I’m sending you!” We’re not meant to miss this: God sometimes chooses, calls, and uses the most unlikely of people to do his work in the world. This is such an important point that I want to make sure we get it. God’s usual way of working in the world to alleviate suffering, injustice, and pain is not to intervene miraculously, suspending the laws of nature, violating the principle of human freedom, or sending angels to make things right. No, God works through people. God sees, hears, and knows the suffering of others. God expects his people to do the same. And God’s response is to call us to step up as instruments of his aid.  Occasionally, we may have the kind of burning bush experience Moses had when we hear the audible voice of God or when events clearly reflect God’s call on our lives. But in my experience, God’s call most often comes in a whisper or through a feeling, nudge, or compulsion that I can’t shake. I hear the voice of God most often when I’m reading, praying, or discussing the faith with others or when I’m worshiping, singing, or listening to the Scriptures read aloud or preached.  Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Two, “Two Moments That Defined the Man,” from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.  

The Birth of Moses

Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter One of my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to read last week’s post, which was taken from the book’s Introduction. Notes about the photos above: (Photo #1) My daughter Danielle and I in the Hypostyle Hall in the great Karnak Temple which was built during the time of Moses (if one assumes a 13th century date for much of Moses’ life). The hall is 54,000 square feet and is dedicated to the principle god of the Egyptian pantheon, Amun Ra.  In the Moses small group video I take viewers through this temple complex.  (Photo #2) One of the small sailboats visitors can take on the Nile in Luxor.  Across the River are the Theban Hills within which is found the Valley of the Kings where the Pharoah’s during Moses’ period, and long after, were buried. I take viewers of the DVD inside one of these tombs.  Now Joseph and all his brothers and all that generation died, but the Israelites were exceedingly fruitful; they multiplied greatly, increased in numbers and became so numerous that the land was filled with them. Then a new king, to whom Joseph meant nothing, came to power in Egypt. (Exodus 1:6-8 NIV) As seen in this Scripture, the backdrop for the story of Moses is the story of Joseph, the son of Israel, who was sold by his brothers into slavery and eventually became Pharaoh’s second-in-command over Egypt. The story is a masterpiece of ancient literature and is known by many who have never picked up a Bible because of the wonderful way Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber retold it in the hit Broadway musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. The biblical story actually fits well a period in Egypt’s history in which foreign people, known as Hyksos, settled in the Nile River Delta. These foreigners eventually gained control of Lower Egypt (the area from roughly Memphis north to the Mediterranean, including the massive Nile Delta) and ruled as pharaohs over the land for roughly a hundred years. The Israelites, like the Hyksos, were Semitic people. Both came from the Near East, and both were shepherds and farmers. It would not be surprising for a Hyksos pharaoh to make a Hebrew such as Joseph his prime minister and to allow the Israelites to settle in the land of the Delta with many other Semitic people. Sometime after Joseph lived, Pharaoh Ahmose I of Upper Egypt (the area from roughly Memphis south), who ruled from 1550 to 1525 b.c., led an Egyptian army to defeat the Hyksos and drive them from Egypt. Ahmose united Upper and Lower Egypt once again and began what historians call the New Kingdom period of Egyptian history. Ahmose I may have been the “new king to whom Joseph meant nothing” who “came to power in Egypt.” It would appear that the Israelites were not forced to leave Egypt with the Hyksos but allowed to remain. But the Egyptians had something else in mind for the Israelites. Pharaoh feared that the Israelites would join Egypt’s enemies, the Hyksos or other enemies from the east, and fight against Egypt in case of war, and he responded by enslaving the Israelites. Fear is a key word to remember in this part of Moses’ story. It is behind the oppressive treatment of the Israelites at every turn.   Note what happens next: But the more they were oppressed, the more they grew and spread, so much so that the Egyptians started to look at the Israelites with disgust and dread. So the Egyptians enslaved the Israelites. They made their lives miserable with hard labor, making mortar and bricks, doing field work, and by forcing them to do all kinds of other cruel work. (Exodus 1:12-13) Notice that Pharaoh was the most powerful ruler on earth, king of both Upper and Lower Egypt, and yet he and his people were anxious about a minority population of foreign sheepherders in their midst. Their fear led them to despise the Israelites and to oppress them. In Egypt, as fears grew about the increasing population of Hebrews, so too did the oppressive acts ordered by Pharaoh. The king of Egypt spoke to two Hebrew midwives named Shiphrah and Puah: “When you are helping the Hebrew women give birth and you see the baby being born, if it’s a boy, kill him. But if it’s a girl, you can let her live.” (Exodus 1:15-16) The Hebrews had not rebelled. They had done no harm to the Egyptians. Yet fear led Pharaoh to decree this dreadful plan to kill newborn baby boys. Two Courageous Midwives The writer of Exodus goes on to tell us something profound about the midwives who were commanded by Pharaoh to put the infant boys to death at childbirth: “Now the two midwives respected God so they didn’t obey the Egyptian king’s order. Instead, they let the baby boys live” (Exodus 1:17). These women feared God more than they feared Pharaoh, and they refused to go along with his plan. Can you imagine the courage of these two women? This is one of the first recorded acts of civil disobedience in history. Because of their disobedience they saved the lives of countless children, perhaps even that of Moses. A Determined Mother and a Compassionate Princess When the midwives refused to kill the boys as they were born, Pharaoh gave an order to all Egyptians: “Throw every baby boy born to the Hebrews into the Nile River, but you can let all the girls live” (1:22). Can you imagine? He called the entire Egyptian populace to tear children from their mother’s arms and drown them in the Nile. And this is the context for the story of Moses’ birth. Now a man from Levi’s household married a Levite woman. The woman became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She saw that the baby was healthy and beautiful, so she hid him for three months. When she couldn’t hide him any longer, she took a reed basket and sealed it up with black tar. She put the child in the basket and set the basket among the reeds at the riverbank. The baby’s older sister stood watch nearby to see what would happen to him. (Exodus 2:1-4) Moses’ mother was Jochebed, a courageous woman who was not going to let her child be put to death. She refused to let her son die without attempting to save him. She hid him for three months, then took a basket made of reeds and she put her child in it and placed him among the reeds on the banks of the Nile. She did so at a location where Pharaoh’s daughter was known to bathe, perhaps in hopes that the daughter would feel compassion for the child, disobey her father, and save the child. I want you to notice that this is the Bible’s first story of adoption. Jochebed gave her child up for adoption in order to save his life. It was love that led her to give up the child; it was the only way she felt she could save him. Let us also consider Pharaoh’s daughter. We don’t know anything about her except that she saw the Hebrew child and, despite knowing what her father had decreed regarding Israelite boys, felt compassion and pity for the child and was moved to adopt him. How easy it would have been for her to have left the child there in the basket on the banks of the Nile, perhaps fearing her father or believing that surely someone else would save him. But instead her compassion led her to lift the child from the water, risk her father’s wrath, and take him home, adopting him as her own child. Of the four courageous women who saved the baby Moses, Pharaoh’s daughter was the least likely. She was the daughter of a despot who was oppressing and killing Israelites. She worshiped the Egyptian gods and goddesses. Yet God used her, as Moses’ adoptive parent, in one of the most important roles played by any mother in human history. Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter One, “The Birth of Moses,” from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.  

Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet

Moses. He is the single most important figure in the Hebrew Bible (the Christian Old Testament). His presence is felt throughout the Christian New Testament. The epic account of his life, together with the deliverance of the Israelite slaves from bondage in Egypt, is the defining story of the Jewish people. For Christians, Moses’ life serves as the backdrop for much that is found in the Gospels, including the story of Jesus’ flight to Egypt, the Sermon on the Mount, many of Jesus’ sayings in the Gospel of John, the activities of Jesus around Jerusalem, the Last Supper, and the Crucifixion. In the Gospel account of Christ’s transfiguration, Moses actually appears to Jesus and speaks to him. He is mentioned by name more than seventy times in the New Testament, and his life, story, and commands are alluded to in nearly every New Testament book. Throughout history, his story has continued to speak to each successive generation. American slaves composed songs about Moses as they yearned for freedom. Moses is enshrined in the architecture of the U.S. Supreme Court—inside on the south frieze as one of the great lawgivers of history and outside on the eastern pediment. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., in his final sermon delivered the night before his death, drew upon the story of Moses ascending Mount Nebo. King proclaimed that he had “been to the mountaintop,” where, like Moses, he claimed to have seen the Promised Land. Moses’ story has been captured in art, music, literature, and film.  Among the many things I appreciate about Moses’ story is what an unlikely hero he was. He was a Hebrew adopted into Pharaoh’s family. He was a murderer and fugitive from the law. He was an elderly sheepherder from the desert whom God called to deliver the Israelites. He appears to have had some kind of speech impediment, yet became Israel’s greatest prophet. He was imperfect, afraid, reluctant, and often frustrated, all of which makes him so very human. Yet, despite all of this, the Book of Deuteronomy closes with these words: “No prophet like Moses has yet emerged in Israel; Moses knew the Lord face-to-face!” (Deuteronomy 34:10). During the next few weeks on the blog, I’ll be sharing excerpts from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. As I prepared to write this book, I traveled to Egypt with a film crew to see the places associated with Moses and the Exodus.  We filmed the small group videos there – the footage is amazing.  In the small group DVD  I’ll take your group to the pyramids and into the Luxor and Karnak temples.  We’ll sail down the Nile, and travel up to the Land of Goshen.  We’ll pass by the Red Sea, through the desert, and up Mount Sinai before completing our journey on Mt. Nebo in Jordan where Moses died. The book includes maps, charts, photos and historical material that will help illuminate Moses’ life.  Then in each chapter I hope to help the reader see how Moses’ life, and the story of the Exodus, still speaks to our lives today. I have included a promo video that you might find a helpful introduction to the book. Just click on the triangle on the image at the top of the blog post.  Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.  

The Resurrection of the Body

Today concludes our series of blog posts featuring excerpts from my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why. As we have now entered into the Lenten season, it seems appropriate that we consider the resurrection and the promise of life everlasting. Today, I’m including a portion from Chapter Six, “The Resurrection of the Body.” Click here to read last week’s post, which featured an excerpt from Chapter Five. Christians believe that in Jesus’ death and resurrection, God gave a definitive answer to the existential questions of death and life beyond death. Clearly Jesus was crucified, dead, and buried. His friends grieved and mourned his death. But those same friends claimed that on Sunday morning, after his death on Friday, Jesus stepped out of the tomb. These men and women claimed that they had seen him, eaten with him, touched him, and been taught by him for forty days after his death. The tomb in which he had been buried was empty; people could go and see it. Jesus’ disciples, who, fearing for their lives, had gone into hiding after his death, boldly stepped into the streets to proclaim that he had risen. In the years following, people such as Paul, who had initially rejected Christianity and had even persecuted Christians, claimed to have had encounters, visions, and profound experiences of the risen Christ. Once again, in the late 50s, Paul wrote of Jesus that “he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at once—most of them are still alive to this day” (1 Corinthians 15:6). With this confidence, Paul could affirm that for him there was no question that we survive death, and he could write, quoting Isaiah 25:8, “Death has been swallowed up by a victory” (1 Corinthians 15:54). Later Paul wrote, “We know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands” (2 Corinthians 5:1 NIV). It’s what Jesus meant when he said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though they die. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-26). We believe in life beyond death because Jesus rose from the dead, the disciples bore witness to it, and those who came later had profound experiences with the risen Christ. Jesus’ death and resurrection were, in part, God’s way of speaking to the deepest and most fundamental human crisis: death. I love that phrase in Scripture, included in the Creed: “On the third day he rose again.” As important as Jesus’ death is for Christians, it was his resurrection that demonstrated his triumph over evil, hate, sin, and death. As Jesus said in John, “Because I live, you will live too” (John 14:19). Once again, the existentialist theologian Paul Tillich offered an important word when he wrote, “The face of every man shows the trace of the presence of death in his life, of his fear of death, of his courage toward death, and of his resignation to death. This frightful presence of death subjects man to bondage and servitude all his life.”The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is God’s answer to the “frightful presence of death,” and in one great act on Easter morning Christ liberated believers from death’s “bondage and servitude.” That first Easter, the disciples remained in hiding. They had not yet seen Jesus. They did not expect his resurrection from the grave. When the women came announcing that Jesus had been raised, the disciples thought the women were out of their minds. Then suddenly he appeared among them, saying, “Peace be with you” (John 20:21). In this simple statement Jesus was expressing, in part, what his resurrection and the promise of eternal life mean to us. By conquering death, Jesus addressed our fear and uncertainty and offered his first disciples, and us, a peace that sustains us even in the face of great tragedy and pain. I’m reminded of Thomas Dorsey, one of the greats of African American gospel music. Just days after losing his first wife, Nettie, and their son during childbirth, Dorsey wrote the beloved hymn “Precious Lord, Take My Hand.” Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home. It was Dorsey’s faith that Christ lives, that he walks with us, that there is a resurrection of the body and a life everlasting, that made it possible for him to write those words just days after laying his wife and infant son to rest. This is just a brief excerpt from Chapter Six of my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why.  In the rest of the chapter I consider the many aspects and implications of Christ’s resurrection, his promise that we will be raised, and what heaven is like. If you would like to know more about the book or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, click here; or click here to view the promo videos (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Videos" tab).    

Who Needs Forgiveness?

I’m sharing excerpts from my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why, on the blog in these next few weeks as we approach the Lenten season. Today, I’m including a portion from Chapter Five, “The Forgivenss of Sins.” Click here to read last week’s post, which featured an excerpt from Chapter Four.   Belief in the forgiveness of sins is only good news if we first understand that we need forgiveness, and to make sense of that understanding we must talk about sin. The primary word for sin in the New Testament is hamartia, a term used by archers that meant “to miss the mark.” This was a great word to use in illustrating what sin is, particularly in a day when people hunted with bows and arrows. Just as an archer’s arrow might miss the intended target, we as human beings miss the target in our thoughts, words, and deeds. The word points to a fundamental existential truth: there is an ideal we’re meant to live up to as human beings—holiness, or sanctification—but we all fall short of this ideal, mark, or target. The theological word for missing the mark is sin, and because we daily miss the mark—saying, thinking, or doing things we should not have done, or failing to say, think, or do things we should have done—we find ourselves in need of forgiveness. What does “missing the mark” look like? The fourth-century desert father Evagrius Ponticus is credited with outlining a list of foundational or cardinal sins from which all other sins arise. The list became known  in Christianity as the “seven deadly sins.” I find the list helpful in examining my own life to see where I miss the mark. There are variations in the lists of these deadly sins, depending upon how certain Latin words are understood and translated, but here is one standard list: ·      lust ·      gluttony ·      greed ·      sloth ·      anger ·      envy ·      pride Most of these seven deadly sins are pretty self-explanatory, though a word about sloth might be helpful. I understand sloth to be not only avoidance of doing what we’re meant to do, but indifference to evil or the suffering of others. Going back to the list, which of us hasn’t struggled with these sins? Some are a daily struggle for me. Another way to look at “missing the mark” is to think of the virtues our lives are meant to be defined by. There are a variety of lists describing such virtues. As noted earlier, one such list is Paul’s “fruit of the Spirit,” in which he paints a picture of the marks which God intends to define our lives, including “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23). With the Spirit’s help, we hope to be defined by these virtues, but looking over the list, it is easy for most of us to see that we miss the mark. A traditional prayer of confession used in Anglican and Methodist settings captures the variety of ways we sin and helps us understand our need for forgiveness: Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. To be clear, we sin by things we’ve thought, said, and done (sins of commission), but we can also sin by failing to think, say, or do things we should have done (sins of omission). Either way, sin is a failure to be or do what God intends for us as human beings. It is a missing of the mark. Sin can enslave us. It can rob us of joy. The lure of sin over-promises and under-delivers. I’ve seen up close the impact of surrendering to lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, anger, envy, and pride. We see the impact of sin every day on the evening news. In the last century, hundreds of millions of people died needlessly due to war, greed, ethnic violence, terrorism, unclean water, lack of food and health care, and more—and the underlying causes of all of these things can be summarized by one word: sin. It’s easy to look at the categories of sin I’ve just mentioned and think they apply to the sins of others, while not seeing our own struggle with sin. That’s where Alexandr Solzhenitsyn’s words offer an important truth: If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. The Apostle Paul offers this realistic assessment of the human condition when he writes, “All have sinned and fall short of God’s glory” (Romans 3:23). We’ve all treated others poorly, been self-absorbed, and failed to do justice and practice loving-kindness. We’ve all missed the mark.  We all need forgiveness. This is just a brief excerpt from Chapter Five of my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why.  In the rest of the chapter I consider other meanings of the word, sin, in the New Testament and then focus on the radical nature of God’s forgiveness. If you would like to know more about the book or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, click here; or click here to view the promo videos (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Videos" tab).   

The Church and the Communion of Saints

I’m sharing excerpts from my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why, on the blog in these next few weeks as we approach the Lenten season. Today, I’m including a portion from Chapter Four, “The Church and the Communion of Saints.” Click here to read last week’s post, which featured an excerpt from Chapter Three.  Exploring our belief in the holy catholic church and the communion of saints is, in a very real sense, to unpack and clarify the work of the Holy Spirit. Before thinking about what we mean by the church, I’d like to explore what is meant when the Creed affirms that the church that Christians believe in is “holy” and “catholic.” When many people view the church, it looks neither holy nor catholic. It seems filled with hypocrites and judgmental people; in fact, this is one reason why many have turned away from “organized religion” and why so many young adults today say that they are “spiritual but not religious.” Interestingly, these same young people have great admiration for Jesus but far less admiration for his people, the church. They see neither holiness nor catholicity when they look at the most vocal Christians and the most outspoken churches today. It helps to understand that when we say we believe in the holy catholic church, we’re not saying the church is filled with really righteous people who are nearly perfect. The word holy in the biblical context means belonging to God, or “sacred to” God or “set apart for” God. You’ve likely heard it said that the church is not a country club for perfect people, but instead a hospital for broken and sinful people who are slowly being made well. The church, then, is holy when those who are a part of her recognize that she belongs to God and not to her members. She is holy when those who consider the church home don’t ask “What do we want our church to do for us?” but rather “What does God want his church to do for him?” One metaphor for the church suggested by several passages in the New Testament is that of a bride, and specifically Christ’s bride. Paul says a husband should love his wife as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her. Using this metaphor, the church is holy when she loves Christ and seeks to be faithful to him. But what about the word catholic? As used here, catholic is an adjective. It does not refer to the Roman Catholic Church, at least not exclusively. Catholic comes from a compound Greek word that means, in essence, everywhere. (The Greek term kata holos, found in Acts 9:31, describes the church “throughout” Judea, the Galilee, and Samaria.) The word came to be a reminder of the church’s unity: every community of believers across the Roman Empire and beyond was bound together in the gospel. Despite differences in language or ethnic makeup, these communities were a part of one church, the church everywhere, the catholic church. Tragically, today there are many divisions within the Christian family—more, it seems, every day. Jesus predicted this when he prayed in John 17 that God would make his followers one, as he and the Father are one. He tried to forestall the divisions among his followers by telling his disciples not to judge one another, and to love one another and forgive one another. Nevertheless, the church divided and continues to divide. Despite this, our belief in the holy, catholic church is an ecumenical belief that all who call upon the name of Christ and seek to follow him as Savior and Lord are, despite their denominational or nondenominational names, part of one universal church. The Roman Catholic Church is a part of that one universal church, and so is the Eastern Orthodox Church, as well as the Lutherans, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Baptists, Pentecostals, Methodists, nondenominational churches, and all the rest. The above is just a short excerpt.  In the rest of the chapter I unpack the meaning of the “communion of the saints” and offer a case for why the church matters today, in a time when many have come to believe the church is irrelevant, or worse.  I believe in the church, and after reading the chapter, I hope my readers will join the creed in affirming, “I believe in the holy, catholic church." Today's excerpt is from Chapter Four of Creed: What Christians Believe and Why. If you would like to know more about the book or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, click here; or click here to view the promo videos (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Videos" tab).   

Living a Spirit Empowered Life

I’m sharing excerpts from my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why, on the blog in these next few weeks as we approach the Lenten season. Today, I’m including a portion from Chapter Three, “The Holy Spirit.” Click here to read last week’s post, which featured an excerpt from Chapter Two.  Just before Jesus left this earth, he told his disciples to wait in Jerusalem and he would send the Spirit: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Note Luke’s words in describing what happened on the Jewish feast of Pentecost shortly after Jesus’ resurrection. As you read this passage, remember that the word for spirit also means “wind” or “breath.”  When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.  (Acts 2:1-4 NRSV) I love this imagery for the Spirit—a rushing, violent wind. But notice too the connection to the creation story in Genesis. There God breathed into and filled the man and woman, animating them and giving them life. Here God breathes upon Jesus’ followers and fills them and makes them new. This is the re-creation of humanity by the work of the Holy Spirit. The Voices We Listen to, the Powers that Shape Us Jack Levison, professor of Old Testament at Perkins School of Theology, described the biblical picture of the Holy Spirit in his book Fresh Air: “The spirit was a force to be reckoned with, an impulse to which mere humans capitulated, a source of daily breath and an uncontrollable outside power.” The Spirit not only was a force to be reckoned with; to this day the Spirit continues to be that kind of force. I love this idea of the Spirit as a rushing mighty wind. The church I serve has been building its permanent sanctuary. One day while the building was under construction, I was standing in the midst of the sanctuary. The contractors had left for the day. The windows were not yet in and tarps hung across the openings. Suddenly a gale-force wind began to blow; some of the tarps came loose and were blowing and flapping in the wind making a tremendous amount of noise. I stood there, eyes closed, listening and praying that the Spirit would do in our sanctuary what the wind was doing that day: blowing with such force that worshipers would be moved, comforted, and filled with power. I think many Christians live Spirit-deficient lives, a bit like someone who is sleep-deprived, nutrient-deprived, or oxygen-deprived. Many Christians haven’t been taught about the Spirit, nor encouraged to seek the Spirit’s work in their lives. As a result, our spiritual lives are a bit anemic as we try living the Christian life by our own power and wisdom. What are the voices you listen to, and what are the powers that shape your life? You’ve no doubt seen images of people who have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, with each seeking to influence them. Personally, whether it’s the devil or just my own shadow-self, I find there are voices in my own life that would lead me to give in to hate, indifference, desire, pride, infidelity, selfishness, or greed. But when we listen to the voice of the Spirit and open ourselves to the Spirit’s active work in our lives, we find that we are led to a very different place and to become very different people. The Spirit convicts us and quickens our conscience when we’re doing wrong. The Spirit, through persistent nudges, urges us to act selflessly in our care for others. The Spirit makes us long to be more than we are at the present and to become more like the people God intended us to be. Paul describes the Spirit’s work and its impact on our lives as the “fruit of the Spirit” in Galatians 5:22-23: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” How different is this fruit than the fruit my own heart, and the culture around me, tends to produce in my life.  This is just a brief excerpt from Chapter Three of Creed: What Christians Believe and Why. If you would like to know more about the book or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, click here; or click here to view the promo videos (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Videos" tab).   

Why Faith in Jesus Matters

I’m sharing excerpts from my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why, on the blog in these next few weeks as we approach the Lenten season. Today, I’m including a portion from Chapter Two, “Jesus Christ.” Click here to read last week’s post, which featured an excerpt from Chapter One.  Some years ago, a rabbi friend invited me to observe the Passover Seder with her family. She said the story that is retold and reenacted in the Passover Seder is the Jewish people’s defining story. She noted, “We once were slaves. God heard our cry, had compassion upon us, delivered us, and made us his people. If you are a Jew, you’ve got to get this story. It is our defining story.” This is how Christians see the story of Jesus. It’s our defining story. Jesus demonstrates who God is, what God is like, and what God’s will is for our lives. His life and ministry, his death and resurrection shape how we see ourselves and how we see the world. Ingmar Bergman once said, “You were born without purpose, you live without meaning, living is its own meaning. When you die, you are extinguished. From being you will be transformed to non-being.” But faith in Jesus offers a very different perspective. We were born with purpose, our lives have meaning, and when this mortal body is finished, we’ve only just begun to live. Richard Dawkins once famously wrote, “We are survival machines—robot vehicles blindly programmed to preserve the selfish molecules know as genes.” But faith in Jesus says that we were made for more than this. In fact, the pain and brokenness in our world are largely the result of our living as “robot vehicles” blindly focused on serving the self. Jesus calls us to be authentically human, to love, give, serve, and rise above our selfish genes. As we do so, we not only make the world a more just and compassionate place; we find joy in the process. Yale historian Jaroslav Pelikan captured well the impact Jesus has had on the world. He wrote, “Regardless of what anyone may personally think or believe about him, Jesus of Nazareth has been the dominant figure in the history of Western culture for almost twenty centuries. If it were possible, with some sort of super magnet, to pull up out of the history every scrap of metal bearing at least a trace of his name, how much would be left?” For Father’s Day last year, my then twenty-five-year-old daughter Rebecca, who is living in New York, sent me a gift. I was getting ready for church and the doorbell rang. And there was a delivery person with a balloon, a card, and a container with beautiful plants. I opened the card and read it: “Dad, Happy Father’s Day. You are my hero and I am so proud to call you my Dad. Rebecca.” I put this miniature garden of succulents on my desk, and every time I look at them I am reminded that I’m loved by my daughter. When God sought to communicate his love for us, he sent Jesus. It was in his Son that God’s message, God’s Word, came to us and became our defining story. Through Jesus, God was saying: I Am. You matter to me. I love you. In Jesus, God showed that he cares about those who are lost and those who are made to feel small. He showed us compassion for the sick. He showed us how to love, to forgive, to give, to serve. In Jesus’ death on the cross, God showed us the depth of his love and the costliness of grace. And in Jesus’ resurrection, God defeated evil, hate, sin, and death! In writing these words, I’m reminded of Karl Barth, the great twentieth-century theologian, who devoted fourteen volumes to expressing the truths I’m trying to cover in this one short book. Yet despite those fourteen volumes, when Barth was asked by a student if he could summarize in one sentence his theological work, Barth responded by reciting the words of a song his mother had taught him as a child: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” (See Roger Olson’s post about these now famous words of Barth’s: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogereolson/2013/01/did-karl-barth-really-say-jesus-loves-me-this-i-know/.) Yes, Jesus loves me. Jesus loves you, too. And that makes all the difference. This is just a brief excerpt form Chapter Two of Creed: What Christians Believe and Why. If you would like to know more about the book or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, click here; or click here to view the promo videos (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Videos" tab). 

The God Christians Believe In

I’m sharing excerpts from my new book, Creed: What Christians Believe and Why, on the blog in these next few weeks as we approach the Lenten season. Today, I’m including a portion from Chapter One, “God.” Click here to read last week’s post, which was the book’s Introduction. The Apostles’ Creed begins, “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth.” Christians believe there is a God, a Supreme Being, and Ultimate Reality that created the universe. Many would be willing to use the term “God” when referring to the creative and powerful forces that gave rise to, and hold together, the universe as we know it—forces such as the mysterious “dark energy” of astrophysics. When Einstein referred to God, it seems to me that he was willing to use the word in such a way—not a personal being, but an impersonal power or force, or perhaps a mystery of science yet unsolved. Yet Christians perceive God not simply as a force of nature, but as an entity, a Being, that is both intelligent and powerful. Max Planck, the brilliant theoretical physicist and father of quantum theory, captured part of this idea in a 1944 speech in which he said, “All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force which brings the particle of an atom to vibration and holds this most minute solar system of the atom together. We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent mind. This mind is the matrix of all matter.” Planck, a Nobel Laureate, did not see his work in the field of quantum mechanics as incompatible with his Christian faith. Sustaining and holding the universe together was an almighty force that was both “conscious” and “intelligent.” George Lemaître, a Catholic priest and cosmological physicist, was perhaps best known as the father of the Big Bang theory. He championed the idea that the universe had a beginning, a day on which it was born. His theory of cosmic expansion pointed backward to “a day when there was no yesterday.” Lemaître did not see this idea as proof of God’s existence, but he did seem to recognize that his theory, now widely accepted, made it intellectually possible to reconcile faith and science. There are many scientists who believe that science and faith are incompatible, but many others throughout history have believed, and continue to believe, that the two are not mutually exclusive. During the “scientific revolution” of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, for example, some of the leading luminaries were Christian believers—people such as Isaac Newton, Blaise Pascal, and Galileo, who, despite the church’s blunder in criticizing his conclusions, continued to maintain his faith in God. My point is that, despite frequent statements by some scientists that science and Christian faith are incompatible, there are numerous other scientists who have played significant roles in the advancement of knowledge and who believed in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth. Christians believe that God is the creative force, the power, the source from which everything that exists derives its existence and upon which all that exists is contingent. This is just a brief excerpt form Chapter One of Creed: What Christians Believe and Why. If you would like to know more about the book or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, click here; or click here to view the promo videos (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Videos" tab).