Archives for February 2023

On God as Our Father, Part 2: Likeness

February 27, 2023 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

We’re surveying Jesus’ teaching about our Father God in the Sermon on the Mount, where there’s a cluster of references to the topic. We’ve noted that Jesus begins (Mt 5.16) with the almost off-handed comment, or assumption, that our purpose in life is to generate respect or honor for God as our Father.

The first chapter of the sermon includes a list of areas in which Jesus tells his hearers that they must do better than just what the Law of Moses required. He states his premise first: “unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5.20). And then he lists several examples:

Refraining from murder is not enough; you must refrain from even hating your brother (Mt 5.21-26).
Refraining from adultery is not enough; you must refrain from lust (Mt 5.27-30).
Following the legally prescribed procedure for divorce is not enough; you must remain united even through hard times (Mt 5.31-32).
Keeping your vows is not enough; you must keep your word so faithfully that vows aren’t even needed (Mt 5.33-37).
Limiting your vengeance to what is appropriate to the offense is not enough; you must “turn the other cheek” (Mt 5.38-42).
Loving your neighbor is not enough; you must love your enemy as well (Mt 5.43-48).

It’s in this last section that he invokes the fatherhood of God. He says that we should love our enemies “so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven” (Mt 5.45).

Now this sounds as though Jesus is placing a works requirement on our relationship with God: “if you want to be a child of God, you’re going to have to love your enemies.” But I don’t think the context supports that interpretation at all. He goes on to describe what we call “common grace”; God gives rain to everyone, whether they’re good to him or not. In other words, God loves his enemies, and it only makes sense that those with his DNA should be like him in that respect. The point is not that if you want to be in God’s family, you’d better love your enemies; the point is that those who are in God’s family logically ought to resemble him, and by loving your enemy, you demonstrate that you do. Being like God is not a condition for being his; it’s evidence that you already are his.

Jesus adds to his thought with a logical argument: why should you get credit for loving people who love you? That’s just natural impulse, something that everybody does; you’re not so special in doing that. But if you love people who don’t love you back, well, then, that’s something extraordinary, something supernatural, something divine. That’s something that shows you are influenced by something—Someone—that most people aren’t.

And so Jesus ends the chapter by telling us to “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5.48).

Now, this clearly requires some explanation. You and I will never be as morally perfect as God is. The unanimous testimony of centuries of Christians who have tried desperately to love God and their neighbor and their enemy is that they just can’t do it—they fall short, no matter how hard they try.

But remember the context. Jesus is not saying, “If you want a relationship with me—and my Father—you’d better be good!” That’s impossible, and he knows it’s impossible. He’s just said that our righteousness is going to have to be greater than that of the scribes and Pharisees (Mt 5.20), and Jesus knew that in the minds of his hearers, nobody could be that righteous.

Jesus is demonstrating pedagogically what his Apostle Paul will later state directly: that the way to God is not in keeping the Law, for we all know that that’s impossible. The Law was good (Ro 7.12), but it was not intended to make us righteous (Ga 3.24); it was given to show us our sin, that we are not and cannot ever be righteous. And the Law, like everything else that God gives us, does its job exceedingly well.

The Law also teaches us that we need a substitute—a lamb. And Jesus is introduced by John the Baptist as “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn 1.29). This Lamb will keep the Law in our place, and will die in our place, and his righteousness will be given freely to us (2Co 5.21).

And through his power, we can be perfect, even as our Father in heaven is perfect.

Sons and daughters are like their fathers. And so are we like Him.

Part 3: Provision | Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

On God as Our Father, Part 1: Introduction

February 23, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

The Scripture uses a lot of metaphors to describe God’s relationship with his people; it’s almost as though that relationship is so rich, so round, so multifaceted, so complex that no single earthly relationship can picture it all. The one we think of the most, though—the one that Jesus begins his pattern prayer with—is “Father.”

It’s a term widely misunderstood, especially in that theological liberals frequently speak of the “universal fatherhood of God,” with the implication that all humans are brothers, and, further, that “we all worship the same God.” Given that the gods worshiped by various cultural groups—Jews, Muslims, Hindus, animists, Christians—have significantly different natures, that statement is illogical on its face.

Christians have frequently rejected this liberal tenet—the “universal fatherhood of God”—outright, because, well, that’s what you do with liberal ideas. But our responsibility isn’t to reject reactively any view of a heretical group, but to test it by the Scripture and to be guided to the scriptural truth.

Interestingly, there is a sense in which God is the Father of all in that he is the source of their life; he is their Creator. Paul endorses this idea by citing a classical Greek poet in his sermon at Mars Hill in Athens: “we are his offspring” (Acts 17.28, citing Aratus, Phaenomena, line 5, referring to Zeus). The idea that we are all God’s created offspring is certainly biblical.

But typically when we speak of God as our Father, we’re speaking of the narrower sense in which God usually uses it—of those who are His children through the new birth, whom He has adopted into His family.

There are about 100 passages in the New Testament that speak of God as our Father. There’s a cluster of them—by my count, about 1/6 of the total—in the Sermon on the Mount. Further, most of the important applications that the Bible makes concerning the fatherhood of God are condensed into this one sermon. It’s worth our time to take a few posts to meditate on what Jesus has to say here about this topic.

Those of us who grew up in church probably noticed in our childhood Bibles that there’s a section of Matthew where the red letters fill whole pages. There are actually two, if you include the Olivet Discourse in Matthew 24-25, but the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7 is longer. Bible students have long recognized the unique power of this sermon, from the Beatitudes with which it opens to the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Builders with which it ends. The judgment of its first hearers is certainly accurate: “[Jesus] taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes” (Mt 7.29).

What does Jesus have to say about the relationship between us and our Heavenly Father? In what ways is God like a Father to us? Perhaps surprisingly, the teaching seems to be organized logically as Jesus progresses through the Sermon; if we survey his uses of the word father in order, they seem to make a logical outline.

His first reference to the Father is in Matthew 5.16: “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

In what is almost a casual reference, Jesus assumes that our primary goal in life is to behave in such a way that others will “give glory to” our Father, or see him as worthy of respect, exaltation, even worship. Hot on the heels of the Beatitudes, which are bestowals of blessings on us, he assumes that after all, we are not the center of the universe, and that our comfort and blessing should not be our primary motivation.

We’re here to generate profound respect for someone else.

In most cultures this fits well with the concept of fatherhood. Your father is someone you respect, desire to please, and seek to obey.

Of course, all earthly fathers are flawed; none are worthy of worship, and there are many examples of fathers who are not even worthy of respect.

But God is the perfect example of fatherhood; he does all things well.

He has been a perfect Father to me and to you, and so we start with respect, with glory.

There’s much more to follow.

Part 2: Likeness | Part 3: Provision | Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

On Spirit Baptism, Part 3: Implications

February 20, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Basic Data | Part 2: Clearing Up Some Longstanding Confusion

If you’re a believer in Christ, he has baptized you in the Spirit, placing you into the body of Christ, the church. What does that mean for your life, today?

Lots of things.

First, as I noted in the previous post, you have a close association with the Spirit of God, and he is doing multiple things in you—most importantly, I suppose, he has taken up residence in your body (1Co 3.16) and is there guiding your thinking—including convicting you of sin—and teaching you as he illuminates your mind to understand his word (1Co 2.12-14), and sanctifying you—making you more like Christ—every day (2Co 3.18). He is now your animating spirit, your breath of spiritual life. This one fact is more than we can fathom.

But there are other implications. Since you have been placed into the body of Christ, you are now associated corporately with all other believers; you are kin to every other Christian in the world. Every believer you meet is gifted to influence and benefit your walk with God, and you are gifted to benefit theirs. I hope you have had, or someday will have, an opportunity to make an instant connection with a believer in a far country, in the midst of an unfamiliar culture. It’s magical. No, it’s a lot better than magical.

Most days, though, your experience of that closeness with other believers will take place in the context of your local church, with people you know—and get to know better over time—and with whom you can interact in significant ways, whether with physical help or charity, or with regular fellowship in the word and prayer, or by walking with them through a crisis—either theirs or yours. This support network is absolutely necessary for spiritual growth and for prospering in a broken world. We must not neglect it.

A third implication is that you are now one with Christ: he is the head, and you are part of his body (Ep 1.21-22). We have a corporate relationship with him as well. And the consequences of that association are vast and profound:

The Father sees the Son when he looks at you; he looks at you through Christ-colored glasses. In you he is well pleased (Mt 3.17).
- His anger at your sin is appeased. He is delighted to see you, because Christ’s righteous life has been imputed to you (2Co 5.21).
Union with Christ (the phrase “in Christ” occurs 30+ times in the New Testament) means that you share in Christ’s work—
- You have been crucified, buried, and risen with Him (Ro 6.6, 4; Ep 2.5).
- You are now seated with him in heavenly places (Ep 2.6).
- You share in his sufferings, and he shares in yours. “We suffer with him so that we may be glorified with him” (Ro 8.17).
- You will reign with him (2Ti 2.12).
It means that you share in Christ’s person.
- You have the mind of Christ (1Co 2.16).
- You are one spirit with him (1Co 6.17).
- You are his ambassador (2Co 5.18-21).

This is serious business. The words you say, the choices you make, the things you do all reflect on Christ himself. It astonishes me that he has chosen to entrust his reputation to people that he knows are unreliable.

So how shall we then live?

Live in the joy of union with Christ, with whom the Father is perfectly well pleased.
Live in coordinated union with other believers, sharing your gift(s) with them and welcoming their sharing of their gift(s) with you. Don’t ride alone. There are always ways to work together and edify one another.
Every day, recognize confidently that the Spirit of God, who lives in you and calls you his home, is activating and energizing all of this for the glory of God and for the certain and perfect fulfillment of his will.

This is a cause far greater than ourselves.

Photo by Paul Bulai on Unsplash

On Spirit Baptism, Part 2: Clearing Up Some Longstanding Confusion

February 16, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Basic Data

In the previous post I noted two consequential facts we get from the biblical data on Spirit baptism:

The fact that Jesus is the one baptizing (Mt 3.11), but the event doesn’t happen until after he returns to heaven (Ac 1.5)
The fact that the baptism places the person into the body of Christ (1Co 12.13)

The first fact tells us that Spirit baptism is a spiritual rather than a physical experience; Jesus, ascended to heaven and seated at the right hand of the Father, immerses us (there’s my Baptist bias showing) into the Spirit. Figuring out what exactly that means is difficult, because this is happening in the spiritual realm, but I read it as associating us closely with the Spirit as an initiation of his (the Spirit’s) work in us—most especially indwelling (Jn 14.17; 1Co 3.16; 6.19) and the related works of convicting, teaching, and sanctifying (2Co 3.18). Perhaps it’s associated with sealing (2Co 1.21-22; Ep 1.13-14; 4.30) as well.

The second fact is a key truth, one that settles the disagreement between Charismatics and Evangelicals. Spirit baptism is the mechanism, if I can put it that way, by which believers are placed into the body of Christ. Now, “the body of Christ” includes all Christians—

Our verse says that: “by one Spirit are we all baptized …” (1Co 12.13).
Paul tells the Roman church that “we … are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another” (Ro 12.5).
He tells the Ephesian church that the Father “gave [Christ] to be the head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fulness of him that filleth all in all” (Ep 1.22-23).
He tells them further that “Gentiles … [are] of the same body, and partakers of [God’s] promise in Christ by the gospel” (Ep 3.6).
He tells the Colossian believers that “[Christ’s] body … is the church” (Co 1.24).

And in the close context of our passage, Paul says that

“Ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular” (1Co 12.27), and
“The … Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually just as He wills” (1Co 12.11 NASB).

These passages demonstrate that every Christian is a member of the body of Christ, by definition. That means that the believer must be placed into the body at the moment of his conversion; if the placement occurred later, there would be some Christians who aren’t yet in the body of Christ.

And how are we placed into the body of Christ, the church? By Spirit baptism.

So when and how often does Spirit baptism occur? Once, to every believer, at conversion.

There are several works of the Spirit that occur after conversion, some of which I’ve mentioned above. One I haven’t mentioned is filling, which appears to impart special strength to a believer temporarily, perhaps for a particular work (Ac 4.8; 7.55; 9.17; 13.9; Ep 5.18). The Charismatic position would be closer to the truth if it replaced its consideration of Spirit baptism with filling.

As it is, if a Charismatic believer asks me if I’ve received the baptism of the Spirit, I say, “Of course—when I got saved.” That can start a conversation.

So. If you are a believer, Christ has baptized you in, or with, the Holy Spirit. In doing that, he’s placed you into the body of Christ.

There are a good many implications of that fact. We’ll look at some of them in the next post.

Photo by Paul Bulai on Unsplash

On Spirit Baptism, Part 1: Basic Data

February 13, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

One of the manifold gifts that God lavishes on his people is Spirit baptism. I’ve written a post on the topic before, but I’d like to return to it, for a few reasons:

As evidenced by the disagreement between Charismatics and Evangelicals on the topic, there’s a lot of confusion about what it is exactly.
I’m convinced that a great many Christians don’t understand its meaning and place in their lives.
I’d like to extend my earlier post by addressing some of the implications of the event.

I suppose I should begin with a terminology question. Some people call the event “baptism in the Spirit,” while others call it “baptism by the Spirit,” and others yet call it “baptism with the Spirit.” I’m calling it “Spirit baptism.” What’s up with that?

The variation goes back to the Greek language in which the New Testament was written. In the New Testament, as in English, the variable word in this expression is a preposition, ἐν (en). And in Greek, as in English, prepositions can mean a lot of things. In the earlier post I gave the following example:

I eat ice cream with a spoon.
I eat ice cream with hot fudge sauce.
I eat ice cream with my wife.
I eat ice cream with great joy.

The preposition with is correct in all those sentences, but it means different things in each use.

Similarly, “baptism en the Spirit” can legitimately be translated in any of the three ways noted above.

So how do you figure out which way is right?

You go to the context, which often clarifies the correct translation. In the case of Spirit baptism, one of its contexts does that. In Matthew 3.11, John the Baptist says that the one coming after him (Jesus, of course) “will baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire.” Now, if Jesus is the one doing the baptizing, then the translation “baptism by the Spirit” is clearly wrong. Of the remaining two, “baptism in the Spirit” makes more sense if you’re Baptist (and thus baptize by immersion), and “baptism with the Spirit” makes more sense if you’re not Baptist, and you baptize by pouring or sprinkling. Since I teach at a nondenominational school, I avoid the mode controversy by using the term “Spirit baptism.”

But I am Baptist, so I personally prefer “baptism in the Spirit.”

Whew.

One important takeaway is that there’s no biblical distinction among all these phrasings; they’re all referring to the same thing. I’ve heard people suggest that there are two different Spirit baptisms based on the difference in English preposition. They’re wrong.

Another question we should address as we begin is the data source. There’s actually very little information in the Scripture on Spirit baptism—something you wouldn’t expect, to hear some people talk about the concept. It’s mentioned essentially in just three places:

John the Baptist’s prediction that Jesus will baptize en the Spirit. That’s recorded in all four Gospels (Mt 3.11; Mk 1.8; Lk 3.16; Jn 1.33).
Jesus’ prediction, just before his Ascension, that his disciples would be baptized en the Spirit in a few days. That’s recorded in Acts 1.5 and recalled by Peter in Acts 11.16. Of course, “a few days” later Pentecost happened (Ac 2.1), and though that account doesn’t mention Spirit baptism, pretty much everybody agrees that Pentecost was what Jesus was referring to back in Acts 1.5. Interestingly, the Pentecost account does refer to water baptism (Ac 2.41) and to the “pouring out” of the Spirit (Ac 2.17-18, 33 [same Greek word in all three verses]).
Paul’s observation that Spirit baptism is connected with entrance into the body of Christ (1Co 12.13), which is the church (1Co 12.12).

That’s relatively little information to build on, but there are a couple of consequential data points:

The fact that Jesus is the one baptizing, but the event doesn’t happen until after he returns to heaven
The fact that the baptism places one into the body of Christ

Next time we’ll draw some conclusions from these facts.

Photo by Paul Bulai on Unsplash

A Little Interaction with ChatGPT: Can Teachers Spot Fake Student Work? Part 2

February 9, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

In the previous post I presented two questions that I asked ChatGPT, a writing tool based on artificial intelligence, and I included the tool’s response to each question. My interest in trying this was to see if I could spot any evidence that the responses were not written by a student; as a teacher, I want to have some defense against the possibility that a student might use the tool to get out of writing a paper himself.

The first question was “write an essay evaluating Paul’s use of intertextuality in Romans 3.” The second was “evaluate the previous essay for evidence of origination by ChatGPT.”

Here’s my thinking as I read the responses.

The first thing I noticed was how well written it was. The spelling, grammar, and syntax were all nicely polished. The sentences were all grammatically complete. There was no indication that this writer had ever written a text or posted on Twitter (lol). The paragraphs were all coherent. In particular, there were no words that were misspelled but actually spelled other words (e.g. their / there)—that’s evidence of the overwhelmingly common student practice of running the spell checker but not actually proofreading the paper.

Now, I have students who write that well, but they’re in the minority. If my students were to submit something like this, particularly after I’d graded a previous writing assignment, most of them would get caught.

Well, that was easy.

But there are other things to notice as well.

In the first place—and other analysts have noticed this too—the writer doesn’t actually know anything about the topic. The teacher brings expertise to the question and is thus in a position to notice that the tool is just spouting (very nicely) things that he’s imitating from lots of sources; he doesn’t really know what he’s talking about.

As one example, the essay notes correctly that a section of Romans 3 cites passages in the Psalms. But it doesn’t mention that near the end of that section, between two citations from the Psalms, is a string of three citations from Isaiah 59. A human would see that and think, “That’s odd. I wonder why he pops out to Isaiah like that. It’s not like he needs more evidence; this is at the end of a long string of perfectly sufficient evidence from the Psalms.” And, as the standardized process of evaluating intertextuality would prescribe, he would examine the contexts of all those citations to see what’s with the intrusion of Isaiah. And he’d find that all the Psalms passages are addressed to “the wicked” or some synonym, while the Isaiah passage is full of pronouns (they, etc.) that don’t identify specifically who’s (not “whose”) being addressed; and the human would need to trace those pronouns all the way back to the very beginning of chapter 58, where we find that the prophet is describing the depravity of “the house of Jacob.”

Aha! Back in Romans 2, Paul is arguing that both Jews and Gentiles are in need of justification, and he begins chapter 3 comparing the two groups. As he lists passages from the Psalms demonstrating the corruption of “the wicked,” he realizes that he needs to document the pious followers of Moses as well—and he goes to Isaiah, to a passage describing not the idolatrous Northern Kingdom of Israel, but the Southern Kingdom of Judah, the Davidic line.

All that is human thinking. Machines can’t do that. And the teacher who reads his students’ work carefully and thoughtfully, and who knows the ins and outs of the topic that he’s assigned, is in a position to spot that kind of major omission.

I also thought the evaluation (the answer to my second question) was off. Obviously, it missed the whole point I’ve laid out above, as I would expect. But it also criticized the essay for not including personal stories, which would be inappropriate in this academic exercise. And its two uses of the conjunction “however” are illogical; the expected word in each case should be “further,” given that following statements are extending the current point, not contrasting with it.

In short, everything it said was true, but it would raise a teacher’s eyebrows at multiple points. This little sample isn’t sufficient basis for a firm conclusion, but as a teacher I’m encouraged by the experiment.

One more thing: this experiment took place in the context of a conversation with several friends on Facebook, which had some entertaining moments. The complete thread is here, dated 2/4/2023. And a well-deserved word of thanks to my longtime friend Joel Lindstrom, who made it possible—and to Scott Buchanan, who added some enlightening content.

Photo by Andy Kelly on Unsplash

A Little Interaction with ChatGPT: Can Teachers Spot Fake Student Work? Part 1

February 5, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

OK, the subtitle overpromises. I’ve had “a little interaction,” and that doesn’t answer the question with any real certainty. But for what it’s worth, I’ll share what happened.

ChatGPT is an online tool that answers questions, even complex ones, using artificial intelligence (AI). Lots of teachers are concerned that this will hamper their ability to assign writing and maintain academic integrity. Early evaluations are mixed.

Here’s what I did.

I asked the tool to “write an essay evaluating Paul’s use of intertextuality in Romans 3.” I tried to word it to heighten the chance that the essential stupidity of computers would work against the bot. (Yes, they’re wicked fast, which can give the illusion of smarts, but at root they have no intelligence whatsoever, except the artificial kind.) I asked for an essay, and for evaluation; I didn’t call Paul a “saint”; I didn’t mention the Bible, and I didn’t say what “3” meant.

Here’s what it produced:

Intertextuality, the concept of drawing on other texts and literary sources in one’s writing, is a prevalent feature in the New Testament, particularly in the letters of Paul. The apostle’s use of intertextuality can be seen in many of his letters, including Romans 3.

In this chapter, Paul draws on a number of Old Testament texts to make his point about the sinfulness of humanity and the need for righteousness through faith in Jesus Christ. One of the most notable examples of intertextuality in this chapter can be seen in verses 10-18, where Paul quotes from the book of Psalms to emphasize the universality of sin and the need for salvation through faith. By using these Old Testament references, Paul is able to connect his message to the Jewish tradition and to make a clear connection between the Old Testament and the gospel message.

Another way in which Paul uses intertextuality in Romans 3 is through his allusions to other parts of the Old Testament. For example, in verses 21-22, Paul refers to the Old Testament concept of righteousness being given through faith, an idea that is prominent in the book of Habakkuk. By alluding to these other texts, Paul is able to reinforce his message and make a deeper connection with his audience.

In addition to drawing on Old Testament texts, Paul also uses intertextuality to connect his message to the larger narrative of the gospel. For example, in verse 24, Paul refers to the idea of redemption through the blood of Christ, a concept that is central to the gospel message. By referencing this central idea, Paul is able to connect his message in Romans 3 to the larger narrative of salvation through faith in Jesus.

In conclusion, Paul’s use of intertextuality in Romans 3 is both effective and sophisticated. By drawing on Old Testament texts and alluding to other parts of the gospel narrative, Paul is able to reinforce his message and make a deeper connection with his audience. Through his use of intertextuality, Paul shows that his message is rooted in the Jewish tradition and the larger gospel narrative, and that it is intended to bring salvation to all people.

I then made another request: “Evaluate the previous essay for evidence of origination by ChatGPT.” Here’s what it gave me:

The essay demonstrates characteristics consistent with an AI model’s writing. For example, the language is formal and academic, with a clear structure and well-defined arguments. The use of terms such as “intertextuality” and “allusions” shows a familiarity with literary terminology, which is also consistent with an AI model’s training.

However, the essay also lacks a personal touch or a unique perspective that would be expected from a human writer. The language and arguments are polished and well-constructed, but they lack the depth and nuance that can only come from a personal understanding and connection with the topic.

Additionally, the essay relies heavily on facts and terminology, but lacks personal anecdotes or examples to illustrate the points being made. This lack of personalization and emphasis on facts is also consistent with an AI model’s writing style.

In conclusion, the essay shows strong evidence of being generated by an AI model such as ChatGPT. The formal language, well-defined structure, and reliance on facts are all consistent with the writing of an AI model. However, the essay lacks the personal touch and unique perspective that would be expected from a human writer.

These products are impressive, but I think I would spot the fakery if a student submitted them to me. I’ll talk about that in the next post.

Part 2

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On Thinking Like Christ, Part 10: Final Thoughts

February 2, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

So what’s involved in “let[ting] this mind be in [us], which was also in Christ Jesus”? In what ways ought we to think like Christ?

It’s easy to find things to imitate in the first stanza of Paul’s hymn, the humiliation phase:

We should be willing to give up comfort as not something to be grasped. We should not hang on to our possessions, or our status, or our circumstances. As Christ was confident in his standing as the Son of God, we should be confident in our standing as his sons and daughters, whom he will protect, and for whom he will provide all that we need. We should see our goods as resources to be invested rather than riches to be hoarded.

We should willingly endure discomfort, even death, for the sake of others. As Christ loves his creatures, those in his image, so should we. Even when they treat us viciously or offend our sensibilities. Or when they’re just gross. If Jesus’ life was not too much to give for their benefit, how could ours possibly be?

We should obey the Father no matter what. When we know what he wants us to do—when we see his will revealed in the Scriptures—we should disregard the cost, whether personal, social, financial, or whatever, and Just Do It.

We should see Christ’s death as an exaltation. If he “despis[ed] the shame” of the cross (He 12.2), so should we. I feel I must add, given the climate of our times, that there’s no need to be a jerk as an ambassador of Christ, but we should not back down from the truth of the gospel.

At this point in the passage some may think that there’s nothing further in Christ’s thinking that we should imitate. We shouldn’t seek to be exalted, should we? We shouldn’t seek to have a name that is above every name, should we?

Of course not. But there’s still much in Christ’s thinking that we might—indeed must—imitate.

In the first post of this series I wrote, “Jesus did not humble himself in order to be exalted; he was already exalted, as verse 6 makes clear. He humbled himself, first, in obedience to the Father’s plan, and second, to rescue those he loved as his creatures in his image. The exaltation unavoidably followed.”

We can imitate him in those two areas:

We can make our first priority our obedience to the Father’s will; and
We can love and seek the benefit of those he loves, those who are in his image.

Are there specific ways to do that implied in this passage? I think so:

We can see Christ’s authority as good and right, as he himself did. That is the important first step to obeying him—which is to obey the Father, since Christ’s will is one with the Father’s.

We can see serving others as appropriate, even if they are “beneath” us. If Jesus can serve his people from his exalted place at the Father’s right hand, how can anyone be “beneath” us?

We can be devoted to his plan and purpose, as he is. We can live in the light of the biblical metanarrative, which is the essence of his plan:
- We are God’s creatures, created for his glory and not our own.
- We are fallen and in need of his constant help; we are not wise to trust ourselves implicitly.
- We have been rescued from our fallenness and are thus both God’s servants and his sons and daughters.
- We are destined for glory and perfect service, in the Father’s good time.

We can resist God’s defeated enemy as our enemy too, with confidence in his final defeat. We can live without fear.

We can trust Christ’s delay in coming. We can carry on with strength and anticipation of his good will for us.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash