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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On God as Our Father, Part 2: Likeness

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Part 1: Introduction

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

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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

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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

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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

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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

On Thinking Like Christ, Part 10: Final Thoughts

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Part 1: The Most Important Thing | Part 2: Moving to the Dump | Part 3: It Gets Worse | Part 4: And Worse | Part 5: Reversal | Part 6: Risen | Part 7: Ascended | Part 8: Enthroned | Part 9: Coming Again

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

On Thinking Like Christ, Part 9: Coming Again

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Part 1: The Most Important Thing | Part 2: Moving to the Dump | Part 3: It Gets Worse | Part 4: And Worse | Part 5: Reversal | Part 6: Risen | Part 7: Ascended | Part 8: Enthroned

How can Christ’s exaltation get any more glorious than his being seated, enthroned, at the right hand of the Father in heaven, with seraphim crying “Holy!”?

I’d suggest that God is glorified in many ways, but he seems to receive particular glory in his keeping of his promises, his accomplishing of his plan.

Do you recall when he appeared in the burning bush in the wilderness? His words to Moses were, “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” (Ex 3.6). Why does he say that? Because, as Moses knew, God had made promises to those patriarchs, one of which was that Abraham’s offspring would inhabitant the land where he was then living in tents (Ge 15.18). As the bush burned, that promise had not been kept; Abraham’s descendants were in Egypt, and slaves at that.

God would not let that status continue. So he called Moses, and he empowered him to deliver the Israelites from Not Canaan and bring them to The Land.

He keeps his promises.

So back to our question. If Jesus is seated at the right hand of the Father, how can his glory be increased?

I’m sure there are many ways, most of which are beyond our ability to imagination. But one that I’m pretty certain of is that he can be further glorified by the completion of his plan, his purpose for creating the cosmos in the first place. He is glorified when he leaves no intention incomplete, no promise unfulfilled.

What has he promised that remains undone?

I’ll mention two significant things.

First, the evil one remains active and effective; the cosmos is wracked by sin and pain and death. Christ has defeated the Evil One at the cross, of course, but the battlefield still needs a lot of mopping up, clearing out of pockets of resistance, and final, crushing humiliation and defeat of The Enemy. Christ has already seen Satan fall from heaven (Lk 10.18), and as Luther said (auf Deutsch), “Lo, his doom is sure,” but we await the coup de grace.

That will come, and delay indicates not weakness but grace.

Second, the Son has yet to reign on the throne of his father David for a thousand years (Re 20.4-5), during which the nations will bring their treasures to Jerusalem (Hag 2.7) in order to worship the God of Israel.

Now, my theologian friends will realize from that last statement that I’m one of those “premillennialists” who reads prophecy as literally as possible. Some of them will undoubtedly disagree with me on that point. That’s OK. But I’m confident that they’ll agree with me on the first point.

So, I think, Christ’s glorious exaltation will be magnified and culminated when he comes, finally, to restore creation to its flawless original state, and maybe even better.

I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war. 12 His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns; and he had a name written, that no man knew, but he himself. 13 And he was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood: and his name is called The Word of God. 14 And the armies which were in heaven followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. 15 And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God. 16 And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS (Re 19.11-16).

The exaltation of Christ is not yet complete. He will yet come in glory, and every eye shall see Him. He will lay waste to His enemy, that old serpent, the devil, and he will reign for ever and ever. Even so come, Lord Jesus.

Some final thoughts in the next post.

Part 10: Final Thoughts

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On Thinking Like Christ, Part 8: Enthroned

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Part 1: The Most Important Thing | Part 2: Moving to the Dump | Part 3: It Gets Worse | Part 4: And Worse | Part 5: Reversal | Part 6: Risen | Part 7: Ascended

Seated at the right hand of the Father, in a position of infinite glory and authority, Christ—surprisingly—serves his people. He intercedes for us, we are told (He 7.25); he acts as our attorney before God’s throne (1J 2.1).

I wonder—why does he do that? The Father is propitiated, is he not (Ro 3.25; 1J 2.2, 4.10)? He’s not angry; the Son doesn’t have to hold him back from pouring out his wrath on us, because the Son himself has absorbed that wrath in our place. The Father looks on us with love, with grace, with shalom. When you, as his child, sin, he doesn’t regress to rage, as though you’re a stranger. He’s your Father, the most perfectly loving father you’ve ever had.

Further, the Father is omniscient; he doesn’t need the Son to remind him of his death on the cross and the consequent forgiveness of our sins and statement of our justification. He hasn’t forgotten, because he cannot forget.

So why the intercession? Why the presence of the attorney?

I think we should be tentative about our logical extrapolations from Scripture; we should recognize when the Scripture directly states things, and when it doesn’t. So my most precise answer to my own question is that I don’t know why.

But I suspect—and this is just a guess—that it’s a reflection of the fact that God is One. The persons of the Godhead are indeed distinct, and they do carry out different roles—theologians refer to that as “separability of operations”—but those separate operations are quite limited (typically confined to eternal generation for the Son and eternal procession for the Spirit—although those restrictions are speculative as well). The triunity of the Godhead does not contradict God’s essential unity. And I suspect that the visible presence of the Son at the Father’s throne, metaphorically pleading our case, is an expression of that unity. The Father and the Son are not at cross purposes; they act together to accomplish, recognize, and delight in our justification, our presence at the table.

In the end, we are one with the One God.

And so even in his exaltation, he ministers on our behalf.

Astonishing.

But he is, in fact, infinitely exalted. As the millions of angels sing around his throne, he is worthy—because he was slain (Re 5.11-12).

  • He is before all things, and by Him all things consist; He is worthy.
  • All things were created by Him, and for Him; He is worthy.
  • The government shall be upon his shoulder; He is worthy.
  • His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace; He is worthy.
  • He is the beloved Son, in whom the Father is well pleased; He is worthy.
  • He who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him; He is worthy.
  • He has blotted out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, nailing it to his cross; and having looted principalities and powers, he made a shew of them openly, triumphing over them in it; He is worthy.
  • He is our peace, who has made both Jews and Gentiles one, and has broken down the middle wall of partition between us; He is worthy.
  • He is declared to be the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead; He is worthy.
  • He is by the right hand of God exalted, and has shed forth his Spirit at Pentecost and in all the days since; He is worthy.
  • He is man; He is God; He is worthy.

Worthy is the Lamb to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.

Amen. Let it ever be so.

And still, there’s more.

Part 9: Coming Again | Part 10: Final Thoughts

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On Thinking Like Christ, Part 7: Ascended

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Part 1: The Most Important Thing | Part 2: Moving to the Dump | Part 3: It Gets Worse | Part 4: And Worse | Part 5: Reversal | Part 6: Risen

The exaltation continues.

For forty days and nights the risen Christ walks among His disciples, collecting witnesses to His resurrected glory (1Co 15.5-7). Then, Luke writes, “while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud received him out of their sight” (Acts 1:9).

He was taken up. This is a fitting end to His earthly ministry. Surrounded by those He loved to the uttermost (Jn 13.1), He is lifted up from among them to take His place as the glorified Son of God.

His great humiliation comes to an end. He is not left in the garbage dump of earth, to rub shoulders with sinful mankind and suffer the revulsion of sin forever.

The New Testament writers see this moment as a significant event, a major development beyond what the resurrection has already declared. Paul tells Timothy that Jesus—whom, according to a significant manuscript tradition, he calls “God” (1Ti 3.16)—was “received up into glory.” It’s interesting to me that before the ascension, the resurrected Jesus doesn’t appear to exhibit any visible “glory”: at the empty tomb, Mary thinks he’s the gardener (Jn 20.15), and the two disciples on the Emmaus road think he’s just some guy walking in the same direction—and not a very attentive one at that (Lk 24.18), and the disciples on the boat take a minute to recognize the man tending the fire on the beach (Jn 21.7). But with the Ascension, the Son is glorified; his status visibly changes, not only by virtue of his physical ascension—that’s obviously not an ordinary phenomenon—but apparently in his appearance as well.

Peter likewise recalls for his readers the fact that Jesus “is gone into heaven” (1P 3.22) and notes the close association of that event with his reception of cosmic authority.

Which brings us to the immediate subsequent of the Ascension.

Repeatedly the New Testament writers connect the Ascension with the Session, or the fact that on his arrival in the heavenly dimension, the Son took a seat at the right hand of the Father (Ro 8.34; Ep 1.20; Co 3.1). I think the most elegant statement of this concept comes from someone whose name we don’t even know, the anonymous author of Hebrews:

1 God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, 2 Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; 3 Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high; 4 Being made so much better than the angels, as he hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they (He 1.1-4).

That act—sitting down in the presence, and indeed on the right hand, of the Father—is the most impressive and astonishing event in this whole series.

No subject sits in the presence of majesty. Refusing to rise for the king will get an earthly subject’s head removed. How much more an offense it is to sit in the presence of the Majesty on high.

Yet Christ does sit, and it is no offense. He is not subject to His Majesty; He is His Majesty.

He has completed His great work—“It is finished,” he cried on the cross—and now, in an ultimate act of exaltation, He sits down in the presence of the Majesty on high.

There is much more yet to say. We have departed somewhat from our initial text in Philippians 2, and Paul there tells us more about this phase of Christ’s ministry. And the next one.

We continue in the next post.

Part 8: Enthroned | Part 9: Coming Again | Part 10: Final Thoughts

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On Thinking Like Christ, Part 6: Risen

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Part 1: The Most Important Thing | Part 2: Moving to the Dump | Part 3: It Gets Worse | Part 4: And Worse | Part 5: Reversal

And now begins the Father’s work in making visible—making obvious—all that had been implied in those earlier prophecies and private events.

The body of the executed “blasphemer” and “seditionist” has been removed from the cross and placed in a borrowed tomb—a really nice one, apparently, but one that gives no hint of what is about to happen. The corpse has not been sufficiently prepared for burial after the Jewish custom, because the preparations have been hurried and then interrupted by the arrival of the Sabbath rest.

His followers return dejectedly to their homes, wondering what has happened, and how, and what could possibly be next.

The cosmos waits.

And very few know, when it happens early Sunday morning, about the earthquake and the rolling away of the stone, opening the view to the interior of the tomb, and thus revealing that there’s nothing there.

The body is gone and unaccounted for—but there is an unearthly presence (Mt 28.2-4).

The sentries collapse, and probably later hightail it to headquarters and begin to make arrangements to protect themselves from the execution that should certainly come for their dereliction of duty.

And as daylight slowly rises, a small group of women comes to the tomb to finish the burial procedure, to wrap the body in fabric strips that hold in place the spices that will delay decomposition and disguise the inevitable odor.

They are surprised that the stone has been moved, and the sentries are apparently nowhere to be seen. But the unearthly one says to them, “Don’t be afraid. I know you’re looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here, for he is risen, as he predicted. Come in, and see where the body was.”

Apparently a few seconds later, he continues, “Now go, and tell his disciples that he is resurrected. He’s going into Galilee and will meet you there, I promise.”

Some of those who insist on disbelieving the obvious have an interesting theory here. They have devised the “wrong tomb” theory. The poor ladies, they say, were too upset by the emotions of the preceding days to understand what was being said to them. “He is not here,” they were told; “You have come to the wrong tomb. Come over here, and see the place where he is really buried.”

I do not understand why this theory isn’t roundly condemned for the sexist, misogynistic assertion that it is. A theological conservative would be laughed off the stage for suggesting such a thing.

You know how women are. Emotional, hysterical. Can’t follow directions, and all that.

Silly women? No. Silly scholars. The angel’s words are clear and unmistakable. He was crucified; He is risen. You shall see Him.

Death could not keep its prey, Jesus my Savior;
He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord.
Up from the grave He arose
With a mighty triumph o’er His foes;
He arose a victor from the vast domain,
And He lives forever with His saints to reign.
He arose; He arose; Hallelujah, Christ arose!

Paul tells us that “had the princes of this world known” what was happening at Calvary, “they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (I Co 2:8). They thought to destroy their Great Enemy; instead they destroyed themselves. They were no match for the Lord of Glory, even at His lowest point.

He is risen.

But the exaltation has just begun.

Next time.

Part 7: Ascended | Part 8: Enthroned | Part 9: Coming Again | Part 10: Final Thoughts

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash