Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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Living in the Brightest Light, Part 4: Occupy Till He Comes

August 15, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Part 1Part 2Part 3

Thus far in our brief look into 2 Thessalonians, we’ve noted that when Christ returns, God’s going to right all the wrongs, and that he’s going to bring history to an end in his own good time, according to his plan and timetable.

So what to we do in the meantime? In the last post we saw a very brief statement of that, in 2Thess 2.15—we need to continue holding on to what we’ve been taught.

But there’s more to it than that—and Paul has more to say in the next (and final) chapter. He speaks of a couple of general activities first—

  1. We need to have a prayer life. We need to pray specifically for one another. Paul asks for prayer for himself (2Th 3.1-2), and he confidently (2Th3.3-4) prays for them (2Th 3.5).
  2. We need to have a consistent pattern of following Christ. That’s what he prays for them (2Th 3.5), and that’s what he’s so confident about (2Th 3.4).

Those two general activities can keep us plenty busy until he comes. But he gets more specific in the next paragraph.

We all know that Paul’s epistles are “occasional”—that is, they’re written to address specific situations or occasions. In this case, Paul has learned that there are people in the church who aren’t working to support their families. Some interpreters speculate that they’ve quit working because they think Jesus is coming back very soon and they want to be ready—but the passage doesn’t actually say that.

At any rate, they’re sponging off the church’s kindness. And these days we have a term for what the kind church is doing. We call it “enabling.” Sometimes love has to be tough; you can’t smooth the path for someone headed in the wrong direction.

And that’s what Paul calls for here. We’ve told you, he says, that if someone is unwilling to work, he shouldn’t eat (2Th 3.10).

Obviously Paul’s isn’t calling for hard-hearted starvation of the elderly and enfeebled. These were people who could work but were refusing to. And here Paul calls for tough love. He even notes that he had set an example of that when he was with them (2Th 3.7-9).

How should the church deal with the situation?

  • Don’t give the lazy guy food (2Th 3.10).
  • Don’t let him wear you down. Don’t cave. You’re doing a good thing (2Th 3.13).
  • Don’t associate with him (2Th 3.14). Let him feel the sting of social penalty for unacceptable behavior.
  • But don’t cast him aside (2Th 3.15). He’s your brother. Guide him toward the joy of repentance. That’s the whole point.
  • Don’t lose your peace (2Th 3.16).

Wise words for all of us these centuries later, in a virtually identical culture. We’re living in the brightest light, the light of Christ’s return. Anticipating that, we get impatient with the brokenness all around us—and within us—and we’re tempted to just find a quiet corner and hunker down waiting for the cavalry.

But God hasn’t called us to do that. He’s called us to live in a broken world, to deal with its brokenness every day, sometimes by doing hard things, things we’d rather not do. He’s called us to persist in those difficult things, and even more, to do them with grace, continuing to spread The Story even as we feel the frustration that long waiting brings.

People who live through that kind of frustration, and who do so with peace, are testimonies to the truth of what they’re persistently believing. Only God could bring peace to a person in that situation. Something supernatural going on here.

And maybe people will want to look into that.

Live on, my friend.

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Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: 2Thessalonians, eschatology, New Testament, systematic theology

Living in the Brightest Light, Part 3: In God’s Good Time

August 12, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1Part 2

As we’ve noted, when Christ returns, God’s going to right all the wrongs, correct all the injustices. That takes care of a lot of anger and frustration for us.

But we need to be careful how we anticipate. When Paul wrote this letter, the readers had apparently received a letter claiming to be from Paul, giving the impression that Christ had already returned, and they’d missed it (2Th 2.2). Paul went to the trouble of signing this current letter himself, so they’d have his signature to compare to any future letters (2Th 3.17).

What does Paul tell them here? He says the Lord won’t return until several things have happened:

  • a falling away, or “apostasy” (2Th 2.3)
  • the revealing of a “man of lawlessness” (2Th 2.3)
  • the removal of a “restrainer” (2Th 2.6-7)

There a lot of stuff to argue about here. :-) As I’ve noted before, prophecy is hard, and we should expect to have our disagreements over the details without viewing one another as spiritually blind or weak on the authority of Scripture. Paul notes that he’s explained all this to the Thessalonians in person (2Th 2.5-6), so he doesn’t need to say any more. Many of us wish he had, but this is where God has left us for now.

Over the centuries people have tried to identify the “man of lawlessness,” which many assume to be the same as the one that John in his epistles calls “the antichrist.” The Reformers thought it was the pope; during World War II both Hitler and Mussolini were suggested; then Henry Kissinger; and even Ronald Reagan (6 letters in each of his three names, you know—666).

And who or what is the “restrainer”? Rome? the Catholic Church? Christians? the Spirit, who indwells Christians?

Nobody knows. Well, nobody but God, for now. And Paul, and apparently his readers, now long dead (2Th 2.6).

But there’s one interpretation of this passage I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t make.

Some people read 2Th 2.8-12 to say that if someone heard the gospel before the Rapture, then afterwards he won’t be able to believe and be saved. God will send him delusion (2Th 2.11).

I don’t think this passage says that. It says that God sends delusion to “those who are perishing” (2Th 2.10). Let’s not read anything more into it than Paul put there. If it’s the Tribulation period, and you want to come to Jesus, you come. He’ll welcome you. That’s what he does (Mt 11.28-30; Jn 6.37).

Paul’s word for his readers is the very opposite of off-putting. He thanks God for choosing his readers for salvation (2Th 2.13). He has every confidence.

And what should we do with that confidence? How do we occupy ourselves as we live in this brightest light?

Stand firm. Hold on resolutely to what the apostles have taught (2Th 2.15).

We don’t focus our efforts on when Christ is coming, or the details of how Christ’s return is all going to work out in the end. We don’t descend into wrestling matches about the details.

What do we do instead?

We live on.

We believe what God has told us, and we live out his plan for each of us individually, day to day.

Loving God (Mt 22.37).

Loving our neighbors (Mt 22.39). All of them.

Being ambassadors for Christ (2Co 5.20).

Taking the story of Jesus and his love to all who haven’t heard, starting right here in our town and extending to the very ends of the earth (Ac 1.8).

And how do you think that’ll turn out?

God’s going to give us the strength to be faithful till he comes (2Th 2.16-17).

And when the time’s right, he’s going to come.

Right on schedule.

Just as he has always planned.

Live on, my friend, this day, and however many more days he’s scheduled for you.

Part 4

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Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: 2Thessalonians, eschatology, New Testament, systematic theology

Living in the Brightest Light, Part 2: Justice Wins

August 8, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

As we live in the light of Christ’s return, in his brief second letter to the Thessalonian church Paul emphasizes three ideas that drive our thinking, attitudes, and choices. The first he gets to right away: when Christ returns, no injustice will be left uncorrected (2Th 1).

Paul begins all his letters with a standard 4-part introduction. First, he names himself (and sometimes others, e.g. 1Co 1.1) as the author(s). Here, Silas and Timothy are with him (2Th 1.1a). Second, he names the recipients (2Th 1.1b). Third, he offers a benediction (2Th 1.2). If you’ll compare his epistles, you’ll find that this third section is the most consistent from letter to letter. And fourth, in most cases he offers a prayer of thanksgiving for something about them.

These prayers are instructive. There isn’t one in Galatians; Paul is taking those folks straight to the woodshed (Gal 1.6ff). But with other churches he always finds something to be thankful for; even in Corinth, where they’re taking each other to court (1Co 6.1) and getting drunk at the Lord’s Supper (1Co 11.20-21), Paul manages to thank God that they have a lot of spiritual gifts (1Co 1.4-8)—even if they’re abusing them (1Co 12-14).

Here in Thessalonica, Paul rejoices that his readers are continuing to grow in Christ, even though they’re being persecuted. The persecution had started right at the very beginning of the church (Ac 17.5-10) and had continued after Paul left (1Th 2.14-16; 3.4). Paul doesn’t speak of this as though it’s a sign that something has gone terribly wrong; he mentions it matter-of-factly, no doubt because he knew of Jesus’ teaching that persecution would surely come to his followers (Jn 16.33).

So how should they respond to the persecution? I find it interesting that there are no calls to imprecatory prayer, no combat techniques, no legal advice. Paul sets forth just two Big Ideas.

Christ’s Coming Is Going to Right All the Wrongs

First, we don’t need to wrestle with our opponents. Those who oppose God’s people are dealing with an Opponent they can never defeat, who will most certainly call them to account for their evil choices, and who will carry out justice for all the injustices done (2Th 1.6-9).

Not our job. God’s better at it anyway.

And Paul points out that in that day, we will have “relief” (2Th 1.7)—but even beyond that, we will “glorify” and “marvel at” him (2Th 1.10). You know what it’s like when your team wins. The place just explodes, and everyone’s screaming and shouting and hugging and pumping their fists in the air. The fireworks go off, and eventually the party moves out into the street and around the block, and everyone’s just beside himself with sheer delight.

It’s going to be all right. Exponentially better than all right.

Some people scoff this off as “pie in the sky.” Bourgeoisie trying to keep the oppressed happy under their thumb. Trying to crush the proletariat.

And there’s no question that that sort of thing has gone on. But to suggest that here is a category error. It is to suggest that persecution is abuse by a hostile master rather than training by a supportive coach. And it assumes, without evidence, its most fundamental premise—that both “the pie” and “the sky” are fiction.

We have every reason to believe the opposite.

We Have More Important Things to Attend To

Since God’s going to take care of the unpleasant business, we can devote our time to more important things. Paul writes,

We pray for you always, that our God will count you worthy of your calling, and fulfill every desire for goodness and the work of faith with power, 12 so that the name of our Lord Jesus will be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ (2Th 1.11-12).

We have a calling, you see—one that our heavenly Coach—and I say that reverently—is exercising us toward through the very persecution itself. This calling involves several elements—

  • Goodness
  • Faithful (persistent, enduring) work—with power
  • Glorifying God—and being glorified by him

Wow. That’s a lot more fun than plotting the demise of my theological opponents.

I think I’ll work on that instead.

Part 3Part 4

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Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: 2Thessalonians, eschatology, New Testament, systematic theology

Living in the Brightest Light, Part 1: Introduction

August 5, 2019 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

Christmas. Summer vacation. Birthday.

Marriage. Childbirth.

We love to anticipate things. Can’t wait. It’s gonna be awesome.

And the anticipation is half the fun, isn’t it?

When my wife and I were first married, one of the things I had to learn was that whereas I’m impulsive and like to do things on the spur of the moment, she enjoys the anticipation phase more. Rather than coming home from work and suggesting that we go out for supper tonight, I needed to learn to make the suggestion in the morning so she’d enjoy having time to think about it.

That’s a pretty simple adjustment, and an enjoyable one at that.

As a biblicist, I’m always asking myself, “What’s the biblical perspective on, or approach to, this or that topic?” So what’s the biblical perspective on anticipation?

Does God anticipate things?

Well, he certainly talks a lot about the future, and he seems to enjoy the prospect of what’s coming. Isaiah 11 comes to mind.

Theologians say that God lives beyond time—but then, no one really knows what that means. He certainly knows about time and understands it perfectly—having created it—and he speaks as though he’s thinking in terms of time, though he knows the end from the beginning (Isa 46.10).

Jesus endured the cross “for the joy that was set before him” (Heb 12.2). That sounds like anticipation to me.

Should we anticipate things?

If God’s doing all that anticipating in the Bible, he clearly intends that it should be part of our thinking as well. We ought to look forward to stuff. Excitedly, eagerly, expectantly.

What stuff?

What should we look forward to? Is there any biblical guidance on that?

I’m not asking what our purpose or goal for life is, though that’s an important question too—in fact, I think it includes our question, though it’s broader and more basic than it. The Bible gives us guidance on the larger question of purpose, reason for living:

  • Clearly the Prime Directive is, as the scholars say, “doxological”—we exist for the purpose of giving glory to God, both in this life (1Co 10.31) and the next (Rev 7.9-12). Even eating and drinking are things we should do for his glory.
    • Sidebar: How do you eat and drink to the glory of God? You recognize food and drink as gifts from a generous God, creatively designed for our pleasure (color, texture, flavor, etc.) and given to us freely and abundantly. You delight in his supply and his artistry even as you delight in the food. Eating, properly done, should be an act of worship. But we’re not worshiping the food—that’s gluttony, a form of idolatry. We worship the Creator, not what he has created (Rom 1.25).
  • Along the way we consider other things. As just one example, Jesus said that he came to give us “abundant” life (Jn 10.10). We exist to live abundantly: joyously, committedly, living out all the fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5.22-23) with delight.

Now, as part of that purposeful life, what do we anticipate? What do we look forward to?

The Bible speaks to that as well.

We look forward to the return of Christ; we are “those who look for him” (Heb 9.28); “from [heaven] we look for the Saviour” (Php 3.20); we look “for that blessed hope, even the glorious appearing of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ” (Ti 2.13). We’ve been doing that from the moment he left (Ac 1.11). It’s the greatest of our anticipations.

So how do we live in light of that certain coming event? How do we live in light of it—the brightest light?

There’s a little book in the Bible that focuses on that question. It’s in the New Testament, a letter by Paul. We call it 2 Thessalonians—because it’s one of two letters he wrote to a church in Thessalonica (today’s Thessaloniki, or Saloniki), and because it’s the shorter. (Really; they put it after 1 Thessalonians primarily because it was shorter—though most commentators also believe it was written second.)

The book’s 3 chapters address 3 ideas:

  1. Christ’s coming is going to right all the wrongs.
  2. Christ’s coming will happen on God’s timetable.
  3. We should be living as God’s stewards in the meantime.

There’s a lot to talk about here.

We’ll get to it next time.

Part 2Part 3Part 4

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Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: 2Thessalonians, eschatology, New Testament, systematic theology

God of Law, God of Grace

July 28, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

So which is it?

Is God all about law or all about grace?

Is God the heavenly tyrant who insists that we follow his rules, or else? Who constantly chases the kids off his lawn?

Or is he the kindly old gentleman who always has candy in his pockets for the children?

There are some who see law and grace as enemies—so much so that the God of the Old Testament must be different from the God of the New. And of course they like the latter better.

Even among less reactionary people, there’s the assumption that law and grace are at odds: you have to choose one or the other. The old-timers choose law, because you know, and the hipsters choose grace, because, well, it’s obvious.

But there’s no dichotomy—in fact, there can’t possibly be. The God of the Old Testament is also the God of the New, and he isn’t at odds with himself (Num 23.19; 2Tim 2.13), and he doesn’t change (Mal 3.6; Jam 1.17).

Law and grace are one.

When I was a child in Sunday school, I occasionally heard a teacher say that the Old Testament saints were saved by keeping the Law, and we’re saved by grace.

Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s a wonder I didn’t grow up to be a flaming heretic.

So how are they one? Paul makes that clear in his two sister epistles Romans and Galatians. Abraham, he tells us, lived long before the Law even existed (Gal 3.17), and he was justified—counted righteous, though he was not righteous—by trusting God (Rom 4.2-3). By faith.

That’s grace. It couldn’t be Law, since there wasn’t any.

So if grace was working fine before the Law, why did God complicate the system by ordering Israel to keep the Law?

I’m glad you asked. Paul tells us why. The Law, he says, is designed to lead us to Christ (Gal 3.24).

All of us are really good at justifying ourselves. My case is different, you see; I have good reasons for my, um, idiosyncrasies. I’m a good person. I live by my own set of rules, and I conform to them very nicely, thanks.

God knows that if he doesn’t set the rules for us, we’ll never come to him. We’ll consider ourselves just fine—better than that other guy over there—and he knows that we’ll never be pure, never be fulfilled, never be joyous, unless we come to him. He can’t abide that; he loves us too much.

So he gives us a Law, and it’s impossible. You can try all you want, but you’ll never keep it. He’s not trying to frustrate us, to rub our faces in our own failure; he’s holding out his hands, waiting for us to come to him for forgiveness and cleansing, having realized that we can’t do It without him.

The Law brings us to Christ.

So guess what?

The Law isn’t in conflict with grace; it is grace. It’s the way God leads us stubborn horses to water, where we can drink all we want for free (Is 55.1-2).

The Law is grace. Nowhere is that more obvious than in the Ten Commandments, where God, as he is setting up the rules, reminds us of who he is, and what he has done:

I am the LORD thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage (Ex 20.2).

I’ve already delivered you, he says. That’s the kind of person I am; I rescue people who don’t deserve to be rescued.

And then he says something that sounds harsh:

I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; 6 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments (Ex 20.5b-6).

But it’s not harsh. Look more closely.

How far does sin reach? To the third and fourth generation.

How far do mercy and grace reach?

Thousands.

Thousands of what?

Thousands of generations, of course.

How long is a generation?

Well, let’s say 20 years. These days couples are having their first child later than that, and in West Virginia they have them a lot earlier ( :-) ), but 20 should be close enough, conservatively.

How long is a thousand generations?

20,000 years.

I’m a young-earth creationist. I don’t think we’ve been here that long.

So what’s his point?

Sin has its day, but grace lasts for as long as you need it. It’ll never run out.

And that’s right there in the Ten Commandments.

The Law.

It’s grace.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: grace, law, theology proper

For My Angry Friends, Part 8: Concluding Thoughts

July 25, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Paul has certainly made his point in his letter to Titus. Believers ought to be different from the general population in specific ways—soberness, gentleness, kindness, humility, subjection—and for specific reasons—God’s undeserved gentleness and kindness to us, the presence of his Spirit in our minds, and our confidence in his faithful deliverance.

He ends the letter with something of a charge:

8 This is a trustworthy statement; and concerning these things I want you to speak confidently, so that those who have believed God will be careful to engage in good deeds. These things are good and profitable for men. 9 But avoid foolish controversies and genealogies and strife and disputes about the Law, for they are unprofitable and worthless. 10 Reject a factious man after a first and second warning, 11 knowing that such a man is perverted and is sinning, being self-condemned (Ti 3.8-11).

This charge has both a positive and a negative element. Positively, he says, pass these thoughts along (v 8). Encourage others to do the same. Make the concept go viral.

In a very small way, that’s what I’m doing, and I would encourage you to add your voice.

On the negative side, he says, don’t get into stupid arguments. Specifically he names “genealogies” and “disputes about the Law” (v 9)—that is, the Mosaic Law. That may seem a little odd to us; those aren’t typically things we fight about. It’s here we need to remind ourselves that Paul’s epistles were “occasional”—that is, they were written to address specific situations in specific local churches. On Crete, where Titus was overseeing a network of churches (Ti 1.5), these two things were apparently causing a lot of contention.

But clearly his larger principle is that we shouldn’t be fighting about anything that is “unprofitable and worthless” (v 9). That requires some judgment on our part, some soberness, of which Paul spoke back in chapter 2. In our current culture, it’s clear that many people careen from controversy to controversy, herded like sheep by the Arbiters of The Outrage of the Day.

Here’s an observation. We don’t have to care about the Outrage of the Day. Unless it’s an outrage by biblical standards. And even when we care, we engage in the public conversation with gentleness, kindness, and grace, remembering the pit from which we have been digged [sic], the undeserved kindness of our good and great God, and our responsibility to represent him well in a world that would much prefer to blaspheme him at any provocation.

Avoid foolish controversies. You don’t have to comment, like, or share.

Paul takes it a step further. When someone you know does that, he says, warn him, and then reject him (Ti 3.10). The word translated “reject” begins with begging someone to stop what he’s doing, then expressing disapproval and withdrawing your support. In the ancient world it’s used of declining an invitation and even of divorcing a wife.

Reject him. Paul says he’s “self-condemned.”

Yikes.

If more people took the current polarizing nonsense seriously enough to act this way on it, I wonder how long it would drive the public conversation. Social consequences bring changed behavior.

But as is always the case with biblical admonitions, we need to get the beam out of our own eye before we lecture our brothers. Back to self-assessment and repentance.

And then, certainly, spread the message. Pass the word. “Speak confidently” (Ti 3.8). Make this kind of evil have consequences.

Shalom, my friends.

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Filed Under: Bible, Culture Tagged With: New Testament, peace, politics, relationship, Titus

For My Angry Friends, Part 7: Foundation II

July 22, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

As I’ve noted already, Paul is driving a point home in Titus chapters 2 and 3: believers should be different from unbelievers in specific ways, and there’s a solid theological reason for that. In chapter 2 he speaks to specific groups of Christians; in chapter 3 he speaks to Christians in general. We’ve looked at two ways all believers should be different from the general population: in the way they treat the government, and in the way they treat all people, specifically including unbelievers.

He spends most of the rest of the chapter explaining why we should act this way. The core of his explanation is verses 3 through 7:

3 For we also once were foolish ourselves, disobedient, deceived, enslaved to various lusts and pleasures, spending our life in malice and envy, hateful, hating one another. 4 But when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, 5 He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, 6 whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7 so that being justified by His grace we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life (Ti 3.3-7).

There’s a lot to digest here, but let me see if I can boil it down.

  • We used to be just like everybody else: sinful, depraved, hateful.
  • But now there’s a significant difference—a divine, infinite one. God himself loved us, and because he loved us, he showed kindness to us and in fact saved us, rescued us from all that nonsense, and gave us a new and different kind of life.
  • He did this despite the fact that we didn’t deserve it. After all, we were just like everybody else.
  • He has poured out his Spirit on us. We have God himself living in us, changing the very nature of who and what we are and the way we think.
  • As a result, we have standing with God—we are his heirs, his sons and daughters—and we have a completely different outlook, being focused not on the here and now but on eternal life.

Well, that ought to make a difference in how we behave, shouldn’t it?

  • It ought to keep us from being uppity toward those who are where we used to be.
  • It ought to keep us from being proud of our wisdom or understanding or position, because he didn’t save us because of who we were or what we thought or did.
  • It ought to make us mouthpieces for the Spirit of God himself.
  • It ought to keep us from freaking out about present short-term controversies. Our words and actions should demonstrate the calmness and peace of long-term assured victory.

In the next paragraph Paul is going to make some final application; we’ll get to that next time. But in preparation for that, it’s time for each of us to take inventory and do some self-assessment.

  • In what ways does my daily thinking, my view of the world and my life in it, reflect grace, mercy, and peace?
  • What things make me angry and/or frustrated? Are they things of eternal significance or short-term irritations?
  • If they’re of eternal significance, what is my frustration saying about the goodness, wisdom, and faithfulness of God, and my understanding and application of them?
  • What people do I think I’m better or smarter than? What does that thinking say about me?
  • Undoubtedly there are people I know who are troubled and looking for help. Will my public discourse make it likely that they will seek me out for that help? Will they expect grace, mercy, and peace from me?

Next time we’ll wrap this discussion up with a look at Paul’s closing comments in this epistle.

Part 8

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Filed Under: Bible, Culture Tagged With: New Testament, peace, politics, relationship, Titus

For My Angry Friends, Part 6: Demonstration II

July 18, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

So the first way we demonstrate that we’re Christians, according to Paul in Titus 3, is the way we interact with the government. What’s the second?

It’s the way we interact with unbelievers. Take a look at verse 2:

to malign no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men (Ti 3.2).

One observation immediately. The word men here is the Greek anthropos, which is not gender-specific. (There’s a different word, andros, that refers to men as males.) So believers should show every consideration for all humans, including non-believers, and including women.

Hmm. Seems like that might include The Squad as well.

Now. What does Paul say specifically that “every consideration” should include?

First, “malign no one.” You might be surprised to hear that the Greek word translated “malign” is blasphemeo, to blaspheme. That simply means to say something about someone that isn’t true. We usually think of this word in relation to God—we wouldn’t tell a liar that he has “blasphemed” Mr. So-and-So—but in the New Testament culture it was used of any false speaking about anyone. These days we’d call that “slander.”

Don’t lie about people.

I’ve written on that before, but here I’d like to come down a little harder on the concept.

We all have a responsibility for our own words: we need to ensure that they’re truthful. That means doing some research before we say (or write) stuff. Sure, you’re free to pass on that meme; but before you do, you’d better go to the trouble of making sure it’s true, because the minute you hit the “Share” button, those words become your words, and if they’re not true, then you, my friend, have become a liar. You can’t avoid responsibility by saying, “I’m not sure if this is true or not; I just wanted to pass it along for what it’s worth.” They’re your words now; you’re responsible for them. If they’re false, you’re a liar.

You want to talk about the importance of personal responsibility? Then exercise some.

Don’t lie about anybody. “Malign no one.” God said that.

Next, Paul says, “be peaceable.” That’s amachos, or “not [given to] battle,” the way atheist means “not [believing in] God.” (And no, it doesn’t have any relation to the Spanish word macho, which comes from the Latin root behind masculine.)

Be more inclined to make peace than to fight. Jesus talked about that, didn’t he? “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he said, “for they shall be called offspring of God” (Mt 5.9). Which is precisely what Paul is saying here. People will know you’re a believer because, unlike them, you move situations toward peace rather than conflict.

Ouch.

I’m often not like that. Especially around lousy customer service. Or slow drivers in the left lane.

But peaceableness is a characteristic of God’s people, who have God’s Spirit living in them. They walk into tense situations and calm everybody down rather than riling them up.

Be peaceable. In your posts.

Can I confess something?

I have a lot of FB friends—again, on both sides—who pass on garbage. I don’t want to block them, because they’re friends, and not everything they pass on is garbage, and I want to know how they’re doing. But when the garbage has a distinct source—some political FB page, for example—I click on it and block that source. Forever. And that means that when that friend passes on that source’s material in the future, I won’t see it. But I’ll still see their posts about their kids. That makes me calmer. And that in turn helps make me more peaceable.

Third, be “gentle.” At the root of this Greek word is the idea of fairness, even-handedness, and thus reasonableness, kindness, gentleness, tolerance.

How about that. Tolerance isn’t just the byword of our admittedly troubled culture; it’s a biblical command.

Of course we’re not supposed to let sin go unchallenged, and we’re not supposed to call evil good (Isa 5.20). But we can treat those who disagree with us as if they’re actual human beings, in the image of God and thus of infinite value. We can acknowledge our disagreements with dignity and gentleness.

But we don’t, do we? Not often. That doesn’t get likes or shares.

Wouldn’t it be great if people who claim to be Christians routinely acted like it? Wouldn’t it be great if these 2 short verses by Paul didn’t condemn most of what we say in our most public forums?

Yeah, it sure would.

Part 7 | Part 8

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture Tagged With: New Testament, peace, politics, relationship, Titus

For My Angry Friends, Part 5: Demonstration I

July 15, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

In chapter 2 of his letter to Titus, Paul gave some instructions to specific groups within the churches—older men, older women, younger women, younger men, slaves—as to how they should live out the gospel, how they should distinguish themselves from the world around them, and he gave a theological basis for that lifestyle.

In chapter 3 he does the same thing again, but this time giving general instructions for everybody. In general, how do Christians live so as to stand out from the world around them? He focuses on two specific areas of outworking: how we treat the government (v 1), and how we treat non-Christians (v 2).

Seems to me that we might find a little help in these two brief verses about how we should conduct ourselves in the current polarized political climate.

So how do we position ourselves with reference to the government?

Remind them to be subject to rulers, to authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good deed (Ti 3.1).

Subjection. Obedience. Eager obedience. Seems to me that the passage strongly implies respect. It’s a posture, a mindset, as well as simple grudging adherence to the law.

This shouldn’t be a surprise to us. We’re all familiar with Romans 13, where Paul says the same thing at greater length. And most of us know about 1Peter 2.13-17, where Peter writes in agreement with Paul.

Of course there are limits to this subjection. The same Peter faced down the Jewish supreme court, the Sanhedrin, when to obey them would have been to disobey a direct order from Jesus himself (Ac 4.18-20; Mt 28.19-20). Sometimes we must disobey the political power in order to obey God.

But it seems to me that many Christians are much quicker to pull that trigger than they ought to be. If the government told me not to evangelize, I’d have to disobey them. But if they told me not to hold a Bible study in my home because the neighbors were complaining about all the cars parking on the street, I’d be able to figure out some other way to obey the Scripture.

Sure, we live in a democratic republic, not under the kind of authoritarian state that was common in biblical times, and we have options open to us that the New Testament believers—and pretty much any believers before 1776—simply didn’t have. We can vote the rascals out. And we can publish our arguments for voting the rascals out. And we can take the rascals to court. And so on.

But we can’t violate the law—or encourage others to violate the law—unless a clear biblical command is at stake. We can’t ignore laws just because we think they’re unwise or inefficient.

I see a lot of people who hate anything the Trump administration does or advocates, just because they think Trump is a scoundrel. (I suppose this year’s Independence Day event in Washington is the clearest recent example of this.) OK, you’re free to disagree with the man and to oppose his policies in any legal ways, but you need “to be ready for every good deed,” and in a context of submission to authoritative government mandates. “Not my president” is simply not biblical (or legal, really).

And the pro-Trump folks don’t get off the hook just because their guy’s in office. I see them advocate that citizens who don’t like this country should be kicked out.

Um, you can’t do that. They’re citizens. The law says they have a right to stay, even if they’re disagreeable. In fact, even if they’re felons. You don’t kick lawbreakers out of the country; this country doesn’t have a legal mechanism for withdrawing citizenship if the citizen wants to stay.

Someday, Mr. Trump won’t be president anymore. Someday the president will be at the other end of the political spectrum (whatever that means). And then the situation will be reversed, and again Christians on both sides are going to need to suppress their fleshly impulses and obey the law.

Work to change it, sure. But obey it in the meantime, if at all possible.

What does “if at all possible” mean?

It means that when a bad law comes along, you obey as long as it’s in force and as long as you can obey the Scripture at the same time. And if the two are in conflict, you get reeeaaaalllly creative and try to figure out a way to obey both the law and the Scripture simultaneously, and you try to get the law changed through any available legal means.

And if there’s just simply no way to obey both, only then do you break the law.

Only then.

My friends, the contemporary American church has some work to do.

And some repenting.

For disobedience, sure.

But also for words. And for attitudes.

Think on these things.

Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture Tagged With: New Testament, peace, politics, relationship, Titus

For My Angry Friends, Part 4: Proclamation

July 11, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

There’s a reason we’re supposed to stand out from the way the rest of the world thinks and behaves.

There’s something going on that’s much bigger than just your rights and wishes, your desires, or even your whole life—or mine. It’s bigger than politics, even bigger than who’s the president of the United States—“the most powerful man in the world.”

God is telling a story, a big one, that involves everyone who has ever lived, and that includes you and me, on the streets where we live, and on the social media pages where we hang out.

After Paul has laid out some guidelines about how specific groups of people are supposed to act (Titus 2.2-10), he takes a deep breath and starts a new paragraph.

And he starts it with a tiny little word, but a powerful one: it’s the little word “for”:

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people (Ti 2.11).

God is telling a story, you see; he has a plan. He is bringing salvation to all people.

To all people? To everybody? Nobody goes to hell?

Well, if that’s what Paul means, then he’s contradicting what he himself has already said in 2Thessalonians 2.12 and Romans 13.2. We can tell by reading Paul that he’s not that stupid.

No, he doesn’t mean that everyone will be saved.

So what does he mean?

Check the context. He’s been talking about different groups or kinds of people—old men, old women, young women, young men, slaves. Paul writes more than once about the fact that God is bringing together all different kinds of people into one body, the church:

In one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free (1Co 12.13).

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus (Gal 3.28).

For a much lengthier exposition of that idea, see Ephesians 2.11-3.21.

So back to our passage. God is bringing salvation to all different kinds of people—people who should by all natural tendencies be enemies—and bringing them together in Christ.

In Christ, not in a political party or a tribe or a nation or a league of nations.

In Christ.

There’s no other person or idea or movement that could do that. If world history teaches us anything at all, it teaches us that bloody divisions come to all people, for all sorts of reasons, including the most trivial imaginable.

But in Christ, people who ought to be enemies—who have significant and reasonable reasons for hating one another—become one in Christ.

Only God could do that.

So how do we live that salvation out? How do we live in a way that convinces onlookers that something unusual, other-worldly, is going on?

Paul tells us:

12 training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, 13 waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, 14 who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works (Ti 2.12-14).

This is what “Christian soldiers” look like.

How much of this do you see on social media? How much of this do you put out there?

Note that he’s not talking to specific groups anymore. This isn’t just for the old men, or the old women, or whomever. This is for everybody.

  • Renounce any kind of thinking, speaking, or acting that God himself wouldn’t engage in.
  • Don’t have the kind of emotional lack of control that typifies the unbeliever.
  • Live in a way that’s self-controlled, upright, and godly.
  • Be oriented toward the long future, the eternal future, rather than the immediate.
    • Look for Christ, not anybody else, to deliver you.
    • Follow him away from lawlessness and toward purity.
    • Be eager for good works.

I don’t see much of that from Christians these days. I see people who have heroes, champions, of one kind or another, and who ignore their champion’s faults while delighting over the flaws of The Enemy.

Interestingly, as I write it looks like the Jeffrey Epstein investigation is going to provide quite a list of pedophiles for public examination. Some will be Republicans, and some will be Democrats.

What do you think will happen then?

And how seamlessly is your online behavior going to blend in with that nonsense?

Or will it stand out?

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture Tagged With: New Testament, peace, politics, relationship, Titus

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