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

Chair, Division of Biblical Studies & Theology,

Bob Jones University

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On Silence During Chaos, Part 3: Panic

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Part 1: Personal | Part 2: Political 

You didn’t really think we were going to get through the sociopolitical situation in one post, did you? 

At the end of the previous post, I noted the almost constant pressure to see the current sociopolitical situation as apocalyptic: if we don’t do something now, everything will be ruined! 

A few thoughts about that. 

First, one of the basic rules of detecting and preventing fraud is to resist salespeople who are pressuring you to Act Now!, to get this special deal that won’t be available later. This technique happens in sales flyers for grocery stores; it happens at Wal-Mart; it happens at car lots; it happens when people are trying to lure you into a timeshare, or an investment in gold, or some hot stock, or some dark horse at the track. 

And it’s bogus. People who listen to those salespeople are going to lose their money, or at least they’re going to get less than they paid for. Fear makes for lousy decisions. 

Now, politicians and pundits are salespeople too. And they know, from long experience, that pressure tactics work. As one former advisor to President Obama famously said, “Never let a serious crisis go to waste.” (That was Rahm Emanuel, in 2008.) Sometimes it’s a war; sometimes it’s an economic issue such as inflation or recession. Sometimes it’s an environmental catastrophe, or even just an apparent one, that serves as an opportunity to goose the level of governmental control. But it’s always something. 

So Trump is “a danger to democracy.” Biden’s immigration policy—or lack of one—will eventuate in “the last election of our lifetime.” Gotta do something. And the something you gotta do is vote for our guy, or support our policy. 

And thus has it ever been. Goldwater was going to bring nuclear death to that little girl picking daisies. Johnson was a warmonger, and Humphrey would bring us back to peace. Then Nixon was the warmonger, and McGovern would bring peace. Then Carter was going to destroy the economy. Then Reagan—oh, boy, did they unload on Reagan. “We begin bombing in five minutes!” Clinton. Bush 43 and the “weapons of mass destruction” in Iraq. Obamacare. Trump the First. Biden and the immigration invasion. And now Trump the Second. 

One of the benefits of living for a while is that you realize that the news never changes. 

And in a day when everybody has a publishing platform, the simplest thing for individual citizens to do is to cooperate by spreading the story or the meme that confirms your bias, that makes the side you want to be on look right and righteous and rigorous. 

And here’s the thing. Most of the people who are doing this have no idea what they’re talking about. They think they’re fighting the good fight, but they can’t possibly be sure, at least not in an informed way. And some of them even post—after having done their “research,” which consists of reading an outlet that they have chosen to trust specifically because it tells them what they have already decided to believe—that their friends should “educate themselves.” 

So given the likelihood that any given political crisis is being overhyped—perhaps by both sides—I would conclude that waiting for a bit and seeing how things go is the better part of wisdom. Most of the predicted catastrophes never happen. 

I have an acquaintance, a Facebook friend, who’s professionally in a position to interact with influential people, including some people whose names you would likely recognize if you follow the news. He’s no fan of Trump. And the other day he posted that the likelihood is that things are going to turn out all right. 

But what if it’s a real crisis? What if we really do need to act immediately? In the previous post I noted the importance of being informed, and cool-headed, in a crisis. That means that even if the current situation is in fact a crisis, and not just a manufactured one, those who are acting out of fear or ignorance—that’s most of them—are unlikely to be of any real help, and in fact are likely to do harm. 

I don’t want to be one of those people. 

If I’m not an expert on tariffs or immigration or law enforcement or military readiness—as, apparently, everyone else on Facebook is—then I’m going to get out of the way and let the people who know what they’re doing take care of the situation. I’m not going to add to the chaos on-scene by shouting uninformed opinions at the people who are actually trying to accomplish something. 

Now, if they need help with Koine Greek, or biblical exegesis, or Christian theology, or online teaching, or experiential learning, or poaching an egg, or roasting a Thanksgiving turkey, I’ll be glad to help. But in the meantime I’ll stay in my corner. 

Next time: about that Christian theology … 

Photo by Jonathan Harrison on Unsplash

On Silence During Chaos, Part 2: Political 

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Part 1: Personal 

Another factor in my political reticence is the current sociopolitical situation. 

I’ll start with the fact that we have the biggest and most powerful government in the history of the world. That’s a lot of power. And when there’s that much power, a lot of people are going to want a piece of that action. And typically, those people are not potential statesmen; they’re in it for themselves, and they’ll do whatever is necessary to get it. 

Some of them go the route of political office. They run for something achievable—say, city council—and they manage their image carefully, working up through the ranks until they get the Big Prize: US Senate. (I’d suggest that that’s usually more desirable than the Presidency, because it’s more likely to be achievable, and because it has lower visibility; once you’re the President, everybody’s after your job—even the people who say they’re on your side. The Senate consists of 100 people who think they ought to be President instead of the current guy.) 

Some go the route of journalism. They go to journalism school (which, by the way, no longer teaches accuracy in reporting; it teaches advocacy, taking a side and “reporting” in such a way that you influence the public to your position—which is a virtue, because of course you’re right), then work their way up from the local newspaper (if it even exists anymore) or TV newsroom to one in a larger city and then, if possible, to the network. Again, you’re not likely to get the anchor chair—though a home-town girl from Wade Hampton High in Greenville did a few years ago—but you can be the White House correspondent, or national security correspondent, or some other reporter who’s likely to make the national newscast multiple times per week. 

Some go the route of influencers—maybe because they’re rich (we’ve seen a lot of that lately) or because they have expertise in foreign affairs or monetary policy or political campaigns, and they can thereby get the President’s ear. 

The situation is complicated by the fact that in a complex political or policy environment, truth is damaged not only by what the outlet says; it’s damaged too, sometimes even more, by what it doesn’t say. If a network refuses to carry a story because they think it would help the “other side,” they’re leaving the public with a skewed view of reality. I’ve seen the New York Times do that, and I’ve seen Fox News do it; and for those for whom Fox News is too far left, I’ve seen the fervently pro-MAGA outlets do it as well. 

But all of this is about the power. Big government attracts the power-hungry. Those who have the power will do anything to keep it, and those who don’t will do anything to get it. 

In that environment, what will the news, and the news releases, be like? They’ll be telling one side of every story, the side most likely to get the government office, or the corporation, or the journalist, more power. And even those who speak most ostentatiously about putting out “no spin” are spinning. That’s a power grab too. 

Now. In that environment, what’s a consumer to do? 

Well, the standard advice is to hear both sides. But if both sides are skewing, who’s to say that Side 1 + Side 2 = The Truth? I’m reminded of the engineer who, upon hearing a friend say that she used a cheap tire pressure gauge but took the average of three readings, say, “Why do you think the average of three unreliable readings will be more reliable?” 

In practice, then, our short-term sense of the situation is simply not going to be reliable; it’s going to take some time for the truth to come out. 

To use a current example, President Trump says he’s going to use tariffs to negotiate deals with other countries, likely eventuating in what is effectively free trade. His opponents say it won’t work, and that in any case he’s inflating the number of countries who want to negotiate. Now, the only way to know who’s right is to wait and see whether his claim is verified. 

But that raises another problem. 

There’s no time for that! 

This will be the end of the world! 

We need to act now! 

We’ll talk about that next time. 

Photo by Jonathan Harrison on Unsplash

On Silence During Chaos, Part 1: Personal

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We live in a noisy time. The combination of national polarization, political controversy, and social media—the fact that literally everyone has a public platform now—encourages everyone to have a stake, an opinion, and to express it vociferously, even apocalyptically. 

I don’t say much about politics, at least not publicly. I’ve been asked, by people on both sides of the proverbial aisle, why I don’t say more—why I don’t “take a stand” for MAGA, or against it, or on some other hot-button issue. 

What am I afraid of? Rejection? Losing my job? (That’s funny, since I’m retiring in 2 weeks. But just for the record, I’ve never been afraid of losing my job. I have confronted people up the chain of command—all the way to the top—when I thought that was called for, and I still have my job. :-) ) 

So why don’t I speak up more? That’s a good question, and the answer is multi-faceted, touching on personal history, political philosophy, and theology. I think it would be worthwhile, as an exercise in integrating these and other disciplines, to work through an answer. 

That means that I’m going to be talking about myself for a few posts. I don’t normally do that, either; I’d much rather lay the Word out there and trust the Holy Spirit’s work in believers, and unbelievers, to make it profitable, even in ways I’m not necessarily intending. 

But for better or worse, here goes. 

First, personal history. 

  1. All my life I’ve had a problem with my mouth. My late parents and my older sisters could bear abundant testimony to that, as could any number of teachers, fellow students, former students, and colleagues. I haven’t typically been driven by malice; usually it’s just an attempt to be funny. But I have had enough of shooting off my mouth and then seeing the hurt on the face of someone I cared about. And I see my friends, on the left and on the right, posting hurtful things, often with actual malice aforethought, and I just don’t want any part of it. 

Grace. Mercy. Peace. That’s what I’d like my words to sow. 

  1. Shortly after our two daughters were born, I decided to get certified as an EMT, so I’d know what to do in an emergency. A key part of that training was the importance of surveying the scene: you don’t just rush into a situation (hurry! lives are at stake!!!!) without taking some time to see whether there’s ongoing danger, and if so, where it is. If you don’t do that, you’ll likely become just another person who needs medical attention, another person some other responder is going to have to expend the effort to rescue. Just jumping into an emergency situation isn’t helping anybody. 
  1. A few years later I got certified as a security guard by the South Carolina State Law Enforcement Division (SLED) so that I would be more reliable as a concealed carrier of a firearm. With that certification I was then approved to carry on school and church property. (South Carolina doesn’t allow carrying there without board approval.) Again, a key part of that training is the importance of staying calm in a chaotic situation; if there’s a shooter in a church sanctuary, and everybody’s running in all directions, and there’s loud noise and the smell of gunpowder in the air, you don’t want to be firing wildly in random directions; you want to observe, determine the threat, determine whether you’re in a position to neutralize the threat (from your angle, is there an innocent person in the line of fire? even beyond the target?), and only then take action. You’re responsible for the final location of every bullet that leaves your weapon, and everything it touches along the way.

We’re responsible, too, for every word we speak. Words can do great damage, often even greater damage than bullets can. We will give account to the one who knows all things (Mt 12.36): Jesus himself said that. 

In the current culture, everyone’s encouraged to shoot his mouth off in public forums. Here’s the outrage of the day; what side do you have to be on, based on your vote in the last election? Well, then, assume that position; shoot first, ask questions later. Could the situation be more complicated than it appears at first glance? Who cares? Fire away! 

I see that kind of behavior every day—and yes, on both sides.* 

I’m not gonna have it. 

Next time, we’ll begin looking at the socio-political environment. 

* And no, I’m not engaging in “both-sidesism.” That’s saying, “The other side does this bad thing, so my side can do it too.” That’s not what I’m saying; I’m rejecting them both and refusing to do the bad thing. 

Photo by Jonathan Harrison on Unsplash

On Political Panic, Part 1 

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I don’t very often post political things on social media or on this blog. There’s plenty of noise out there already, and I’m no more qualified to speak on political issues than the next guy. I also find that in the current polarized environment, taking a public political position results in half the country refusing to listen to anything you say for the next forever, and my effectiveness at carrying out the Great Commission, and at ministering to hurting people in other ways, is infinitely more important to me than my preferred candidate’s winning in this or that election. 

Some years ago I began a political-sounding post on Facebook with this statement: 

This is not a political post. It’s a discipleship post. 

The rest of today’s post is offered in that spirit. 

We all know that the US appears to be polarized, angry, and intolerant, across the political spectrum, and that this polarization is particularly evident on social media. Pretty much every post that takes a political position is soon followed with a string of comments filled with anger, name-calling, and invective, rehashing the same ideas that are in all the strings of comments on other posts. Some people seem to thrive on that, even to live for it. Eventually many others try to avoid it, either by unfriending or blocking certain people or just staying off Facebook or Twitter/X entirely. 

I’d like to offer a few observations on the situation, for what they’re worth. 

First, I try not to see comment threads as statistically significant. (That’s what my first post on this blog was about.) I have a lot of FB friends, plenty enough, and across the political spectrum, to be a statistically reliable database. And I note that my friends—and I do count them friends—who are making the most noise are relatively few; for a certain subset of my friends—and I do count them friends—I know what position they’re going to take, and how emotionally laden they’re going to be, before I read what they say. And I note, importantly, that not everyone making the most noise out there is an empty barrel. (Here’s looking at you, Paul. And Bob. :-) ) But most people stay out of the fray, I assume because they’re spending their time on efforts they view as more valuable for them. I conclude that the polarization and rage are not as pervasive as they appear. 

I’d also suggest some biblical insights that could help all of us find a higher degree of peace. 

Everybody’s a combination of two deeply powerful and effectual characteristics. First, everybody is in the image of God. Everybody. Including all the people you and I disagree with on social media. That means that everybody should be heard and respected. Taunting is a violation of this principle. So is posting something just to irk somebody else, to “stick it to the” whoevers. 

Respect. 

Secondly, everybody is an imperfect incarnation of God’s original design for humans. More commonly we say that everyone is fallen, is broken, is a sinner. We call that “original sin.” That includes me, and it includes you—and if the truth be told, we are the ones mostly likely to know how deeply that brokenness goes in us. We need to tell the truth to and about ourselves. 

Now, that means that every political candidate is a mixture of great good and great evil. Sometimes he (or she) is right, and sometimes he (or she) is wrong. Everybody’s like that. 

The tendency of political fans is to denounce everything “the other guy” says or does, and to affirm (or excuse, if you have to) everything “our guy” says or does. That’s unbiblical, and because it’s unbiblical, it’s foolish and doomed to make one look foolish in the long run, if not immediately. 

Next time, one further thought on the apocalypticism of it all. 

Photo by Usman Yousaf on Unsplash

On a New Year

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Another new year. My 70th. After a while they all sort of blend together, don’t they? 

Since I started this blog back in July 2017, this is my seventh New Year’s post. (I know the math doesn’t work; I didn’t post about New Year’s Day in 2018, because apparently I took a break between 12/18/17 and 1/8/18. I was young and relatively inexperienced in those days.) 

Seven being the number of completeness, maybe I should quit after this one. But I don’t expect to. 

It’s usually fun to reach a turning point like this—a new year, a new baby, a new job, a new house—and to anticipate the ways that it will change what lies ahead. I’m one of those optimists you hear about, and I tend to over-expect what good things might happen. That puts a spring in your step, but it also sets you up for disappointment. 

Others, perhaps less optimistic, or just under realistic threat of coming or continuing hardship, have expectations that are less sanguine. If the optimist’s weak spot is disappointment, the pessimist’s is fear. 

The Scripture speaks to both of those. 

To the disappointed it speaks of God’s sovereign goodness, the rightness and propriety of the expected thing’s not happening. The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord (Ps 37.23). Further, it speaks of the importance of not finding our ultimate satisfaction in what happens to us here (Ec 1.2-3). 

To the fearful it speaks abundantly; the expression “fear not” or something similar appears 75 times in the Scripture, and while many of those are referring to specific situations, the general application is clear. We fear God (Ec 12.13) but don’t fear anything else. 

But it has more to say to both groups than that. Three interrelated thoughts. 

First, this year, this life, this entire history of life on earth, are all temporary. Old coots are more sensitive to that than young ones (and yes, there can be young coots; look it up). The difficult things won’t last, and neither will the good things. While it’s impossible to be completely passive—stoic or Buddhist—about the trials and joys of life, we do find comfort in the knowledge that the trials will end, and we find warning in the knowledge that the earthly things we find joy in will not be permanent either. 

Second, as I’ve noted, life is providential; there is a wise and loving God directing our path through, and including, the trials and joys. They make sense—though not always to us at the time—and they serve a good and profitable purpose. Paul tells us that 

we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; 4 And patience, experience; and experience, hope: 5 And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us (Ro 5.3-5). 

The hard things—as well as the enjoyable things, I would add—give us the opportunity to endure, which makes us stronger, which enables us to overcome, which gives us confidence the next time. In our joys and in our sorrows, we’re getting useful things done, and we’re becoming the improved version of ourselves that will live forever. Life is temporary, but it’s an important investment. 

And that leads to the third thought: there’s more and better coming, and it will not be broken, and it will not be temporary. And no, this is not pie in the sky (though, given that the tree of life bears fruit every month [Re 22.2]), maybe there will be pie; who knows?). This is the promise of God: 

3 And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: 4 And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. 5 And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever (Re 22.3-5). 

In this New Year, live with the end in mind. 

Happy New Year. 

Photo by Jeremy Perkins on Unsplash

After Christmas 

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They say that it’s not the fall that kills you; it’s the sudden stop at the end. 

Christmas is a loooooong season, and then a sudden stop. 

It’s a long season, of course, because that’s when the retailers make pretty much all their money for the year, so the hype is insistent, intrusive, and extended. 

Everybody knows that. 

And then comes the 25th, when there’s an explosion of gift-opening, a feast, and then maybe a football game or two while the children play with the boxes that their toys came in. 

And then. 

It’s over. 

The Sudden Stop. 

If you buy into the commercialism and consumerism and Clausism, then that can be a pretty depressing time. 

But it shouldn’t be. 

It shouldn’t be, you see, because you shouldn’t buy into the 3 C’s—because as we know, Christmas is not about the 3 C’s. And it isn’t even about the stuff that TV movies have in mind when they talk about “the true meaning of Christmas”—by which they mean family, and giving, and snow. 

Which kinda leaves out the Southern Hemisphere, doesn’t it? 

Seems like “the true meaning of Christmas” should include everybody. 

I’d suggest that the most important element of “the true meaning of Christmas” is that it’s not an end, but a beginning. 

It was an end to Mary’s pregnancy, of course, and that was undoubtedly a great relief to her. But all mothers, and most dads, know that a birth is a beginning to a far greater commitment to the raising of the child and preparation for his life mission. 

And in the case of this child, the Son of God, the life mission is the most important one in all of history. 

I’ve meditated before on the many mysteries surrounding the development of this unique child, the God-man. The questions are beyond our understanding, and speculation doesn’t really get us anywhere except to increase our wonder and awe at this person. We are mystified by our Elder Brother (Ro 8.29). 

We assume Mary and Joseph pursued his education in pretty much the normal way, but at least by age 12 he was aware that he had a mission far beyond that of his brothers or his parent(s). As an adult, even in the middle of the greatest crisis of his earthly life, he commented, 

Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour (Jn 12.27). 

That “cause,” or mission, as we know, was to die, and to die no ordinary death, but one that embraces the wrath of God upon all sinners for all the sins of all time. 

And more than that—if “more” is the right word—to live in perfect obedience to the Law, thereby accomplishing the righteousness that will be available as a gift to all who come to him in faith and repentance. 

And even more than that. 

He came to save us, yes (Mt 20.28). But even that salvation comes in stages. Justification, conversion, is just the beginning of a lifelong path of sanctification and eventual glorification. 

And even more. 

As we noted in a recent series, the final goal—the real goal, if I can put it that way—is union and fellowship. This baby, this Immanuel, is God becoming one of us, to be united with the human race forever, to be our spouse in an eternal, intimate marriage. 

And so yesterday we celebrated the birth of this unique infant, but today is the first day of All the Rest of It. 

Lots to treasure now, and lots to look forward to. 

Note: I wrote this post before I read this.

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

On Christmas

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This is my last blog post before Christmas. Feels like I should write about that. I suppose I could consider my just-concluded series on “Immanuel” an extended Christmas post, especially considering the photo I chose for it, but I feel like writing more directly about the holiday. So here goes. 

Aging changes your perspective on things, and Christmas is no exception. 

When I was a kid, Christmas was all about the anticipation: What am I gonna get for Christmas? In those days my family was relatively poor. That’s not quite the right word; we had a place to live, and food to eat, and clothes to wear. But we didn’t have what you might call high liquidity, so not much discretionary income. At Christmas each of us kids would get one present. (I remember one Christmas—I guess I was about 8—when I got a football and a helmet, and I could scarcely contain myself.) 

Eventually I realized that I should give gifts as well as receive them. I picked a book off our bookshelf and wrapped it up for my Mom. She was highly amused, especially since it was a book she had owned since the 1940s. 

And yes, eventually I decided to buy gifts rather than just scrounge them from around the house. 

But now I think differently, in ways that most people my age do. 

When loved ones ask me what I want for Christmas, I usually can’t think of anything. I have all I need, and a lot of things I don’t need. These days I’m trying to get rid of stuff. I’ve even tried offering my books to my students, and I find that hardly anybody uses books anymore; they use electronic, and so do I. (I love the fact that when I teach overseas, I can take my entire electronic library—thousands of titles—on my laptop, which fits comfortably under the seat in front of me. And I also love the fact that I can make the type bigger. And that I can search my ebooks electronically. And I like lots of other stuff about them.) 

Anybody want some books? I’m serious. 

Um, back to Christmas gifts. 

If something I have breaks—most recently, my espresso maker—I can just get a new one; no need to wait for Christmas. And just for the record, I don’t wear ties anymore, so don’t even. 

I find it’s not about the presents anymore, and it hasn’t been for a long time. 

What is it for me? 

It’s family. All of us together, enjoying the experience. Feasting together. Telling stories. Reminiscing. Opening presents, sure, but the joy I get is more from watching them open theirs.  

Recently I’ve noticed that I’m also enjoying the season more. Christmas music—the sacred kind—is meaning more to me than it used to. I find the secular stuff mostly just irritating; I have no desire to rock around the Christmas tree, and I wouldn’t recognize Mariah Carey’s voice if I heard it. Though, come to think of it, I can still dream about a white Christmas, though of course it’ll never happen here in the upstate of South Carolina. And the occasional silver bell is okay too. 

Another nice feature of the season is the lights and decorations. The neighborhoods look good, and I especially like the decorations along the main street in the small southern towns—you know, with the single row of brick storefronts and the railroad tracks just across the street. Banners from the light posts and strings of lights crisscrossing the street, just high enough for the trucks to get under. 

Calm. Contentment. Joy. Peace. 

Merry Christmas. 

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

On Veterans’ Day

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This year Veterans’ Day falls on a Monday, which is a regular posting day for me. 

Here in the US we’re often reminded that Armed Forces Day (May 18 this year) is when we honor those who are currently serving in the military, while Memorial Day (May 27 this year) is when we honor those who have died while serving—those who have given “the last full measure of devotion,” in President Lincoln’s memorable words at Gettysburg. Veterans’ Day, though, is when we honor any who have served. It always falls on November 11, the date of the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I in 1918. Originally called Armistice Day, it received its new name in 1954, due, I assume, to the fact that we now had veterans of two World Wars to honor. 

I tried to serve in the military but was turned down for an Air Force ROTC scholarship because I failed the flight physical due to a bum ear. That was a great disappointment, but I’ve noted that in God’s plan it was for the best. 

My Dad served in the Army, and my brother in the Navy; his two boys both graduated from Service Academies and served in the Army and Navy respectively. 

I have always appreciated those who were able to serve, in any capacity. I’m posting here today a slight revision of something I posted on Facebook several years ago. 

_______________ 

Atop a bookcase in my office sits a plain triangular wooden case with a glass front. Behind the glass is a triangle of blue covered with white stars. I’ve had visitors to my office remark somberly that they know what it is.  

And you probably know too. It’s an American flag, folded to the required triangular shape, field out, and given to the family of a veteran, usually at his graveside.  

This one was given by the USA—officially by President Obama at the time—to my family in appreciation for my father’s service in the US  Army near the end of World War II. My older sisters kindly decided that I should have it.  

I’m first a citizen of a higher country, an eternal one (Php 3.20), but I am grateful for the providence of God that has allowed me to be a citizen of this one. With all its flaws, and they are many because its people are many, the nation has been overwhelmingly good to me and to millions of others.  

I’ve been privileged to travel to many other countries, all of which I love and appreciate, and I have rejoiced for people I know and love while standing respectfully during their national anthems and Independence Day celebrations. God has been good to them, too, because that’s who He is.  

But I like mine the best. And I’m moved that some of my fellow citizens have freely given themselves— “the last full measure of devotion”—so I could experience all the reasons that enable me to say that. I will never fail to remember and treasure their priceless gift.  

And perhaps someday I’ll be able to tell many of them in person. Forever.  

Photo by chris robert on Unsplash

On Faith and Culture, Part 6: The Big Idea 

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Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Flexible Evangelism | Part 3: Drawing the Line 1 | Part 4: Drawing the Line 2 | Part 5: Choosing Wisely 

When we’re making these difficult decisions about our relationship to a new culture—or even to the one we know best—it’s wise to keep the Big Idea in mind. That Big Idea, of course, is the biblical metanarrative—the story of God’s working out his plan for the world and all who are in it. 

To begin with, God creates mankind in his image and gives him dominion over a creation that is “very good” (Ge 1.31). But due to Adam’s sin, creation is marred, and the image is distorted. 

As he had always planned, the Creator sets out to restore his image and the beauty of his creation. He chooses a line of humans to eventuate in a Deliverer, whom he anoints as prophet, priest, and king. And that Deliverer restores the image by living a life that provides positive righteousness to all who believe, and then by dying a death that pays sin’s penalty for all who will come. 

And then he begins to gather a people who will praise his name. He invites “the Jew first,” but he inaugurates a new body, the church, to erase national and ethnic boundaries. These diverse peoples will gather weekly to look one another in the face and exercise their gifts for the betterment of them all. 

In his epistle most closely associated with this concept, Ephesians, Paul begins by announcing the elements of God’s work of salvation (Ep 1) and then the radical effects of salvation: loving unity between former enemies—first, God and man (Ep 2.1-13) and then Jews and Gentiles (Ep 2.14-22). And then, the aim and purpose of it all: the glory of God (Ep 3.10). 

And here we slow down dramatically in our storytelling. Paul says he has a “dispensation”—a commission, a stewardship, a trust—from God, who has entrusted him with the message of the gospel to the Gentiles. He has been faithful to that trust; after multiple missionary journeys across the Roman Empire, he returns to Jerusalem, where he is arrested as a troublemaker at the very mention of the Gentiles (Ac 22.21). And he was in Jerusalem specifically to bring a monetary gift from the Gentile church to the predominantly Jewish church in Jerusalem—to act out the very unity that he has been preaching. 

This “dispensation” is to “gather together in one all things in Christ” (Ep 1.10). It was no surprise that Gentiles would eventually worship the God of Israel; God’s covenant with Abraham had noted that in him “all nations of the earth would be blessed” (Ge 12.3), and the prophets had detailed the coming of all nations to the Temple in Jerusalem (Is 2.1-4; 27.12-13). 

But that Gentiles would enter the kingdom not by converting to Judaism, but with equal standing—that was new revelation (Ep 3.6). 

In all of this, God would be glorified 

  • Through his unsearchable riches (Ep 3.7-8) 
  • Through his eternal plan (Ep 3.9) 
  • Through his manifold wisdom 
    • Exhibited to the angels (Ep 3.10) 
    • And experienced by the church (Ep 3.11-12) 

This new body, the church, is united across all cultural boundaries because it is rooted and grounded in love (Ep 3.14-17) and unified in their apprehension (Ep 3.18)—because they are all united perfectly with the Father (Ep 3.19). 

This will most surely come to pass, despite all the things that fragment our fellowship today. God’s plan is that this be revealed in, through, and by the church. May we all be part of that fulfillment. 

Photo by Joseph Grazone on Unsplash