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

home / about / archive 

Subscribe via Email

On Mission Like Jesus, Part 5: Resources

April 13, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Submission | Part 3: Objective | Part 4: Priorities

Throughout this series we’ve found ourselves wrestling with the concept of Jesus’ subordination to the Father—an outgrowth of what theologians call the “hypostatic union” of two natures—the divine and the human—in the one person of the Christ. It’s a mind-boggling concept, and it shows up again here, as we consider Jesus’ evaluation and use of resources.

On the one hand, Jesus is fully God, in complete possession of all the divine attributes, including the so-called non-communicable ones: omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, and immutability. He has life in himself, and he is in need of nothing outside himself to accomplish his will and to defeat his enemies.

On the other hand, he says repeatedly that he relies on the Father to know things (Mk 13.32) and to do things (Jn 5.30). How does that work?

As I often tell my students, “The answer to your question is that I don’t know; but thank you for your tuition money.”

All that to say that in the Gospels we see Jesus making use of resources to accomplish the mission. He knows where to get the help he needs (!), and he avails himself of that help.

What are those resources? And how does he use them?

We’ve noted before that Jesus takes prayer seriously. On occasion he prays all night, between busy days (Lk 6.12); some Bible students have suggested that those occasions preceded especially significant mission events, such as the selection of the apostles. Of course we can’t forget his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, which not only lasted far longer than his disciples’ ability to stay awake (Mt 26.36-46), but was also at a level of intensity that none of us has ever experienced (Lk 22.44). It appears that Jesus’ prayer took a lot out of him but also, paradoxically, provided him with ongoing strength for his mission.

Jesus also makes much use of Scripture. It’s obvious that he had committed much of the Hebrew Scripture to memory, and this in a day when literally no one had copies of the Bible lying around the house. We assume he received an education in the Scripture that Jewish boys typically received in those days, and that he would hear the Torah scroll read from at synagogue every Sabbath, but it appears that he took notes and meditated much over what he heard. I’ve often wondered how his mind worked as he came to understand (Lk 2.52) that various Messianic passages were in fact talking about him; how over a lifetime he assembled these key texts into the discourse he delivered that day to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus (Lk 24.27).

At any rate, he was prepared to use the Scripture, and he did. With the deftness of a fencer, he stymied the Jewish religious leadership with his questions, from the age of twelve (Lk 2.46) to full adulthood, when, perhaps with a twinkle in his eye, he asked the experts, “How does David call [his Son] ‘Lord’?” (Mt 22.41-46). When arguing against the Sadducees, who denied life after death—and also denied the entire Hebrew Scripture except for the writings of Moses—he cites not the clear words of Job—“Yet in my flesh shall I see God”—but, knowing the Sadducees would scorn that passage, selects the words of the Angel from the bush: “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!” thereby not only silencing them, but reinforcing the plenary-verbal reliability and authority of the Scripture in the process. And during his temptation by Satan, when, as we’ve noted before, he was at his absolute weakest, he responded to every wile of the devil with a lucid, apt, and devastating correction carefully chosen directly from the Scripture (Mt 4.3ff; Lk 4.3ff).

And while we’re talking about the temptation, it’s worth repeating something from an earlier post—that Jesus apparently saw the temptation, and the other world-shaking struggles he endured, as resources too, experiences that would make him stronger toward the completion of the mission (Heb 5.8).

There’s much for us to learn here. If Jesus relied heavily on Scripture and prayer, and learned to use them both skillfully, how much more should we? If he embraced suffering as not only the Father’s will but the means to accomplish the Father’s will, how much more should we?

We, who are not omnipotent, most surely need the resources he treasured and whose use he mastered.

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: goals, strategy, tactics

On Easter

April 9, 2020 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Since this is my last post before Good Friday and Easter, I’d like to interrupt the current series for a meditation.

I’ve appreciated the writing of American writer John Updike for many years. I think my interest was first stirred when I learned that he had written a series of short stories set in the fictional town of Olinger, PA, in a book appropriately called Olinger Stories. I later came across his short story “Pigeon Feathers,” the story of a boy’s crisis of faith through the influence of H. G. Wells and a defective local Lutheran minister, which was resolved through the death of a simple barn pigeon. The last sentence of that story really got me.

Eventually I came across his poem “Seven Stanzas at Easter,” which I offer here as a meditation. I don’t believe anything I can say could improve on what he has already said.

He is risen. Indeed.

Seven Stanzas at Easter
by John Updike

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that-pierced-died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

Photo by Lindsey Garcia on Unsplash

Filed Under: Culture, Theology Tagged With: Easter, holidays

On Mission Like Jesus, Part 4: Priorities

April 6, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Submission | Part 3: Objective

As Jesus labored to accomplish the Father’s will, he didn’t do so randomly. He was strategic; as we’ve noted before, he understood the objective clearly, and he kept himself focused on it.

But he wasn’t just slashing his way wildly through the jungle of God’s will. He thought not only about what the objective was, but about how best to get there. He laid out tactics, among which was calculating the best ways to achieve the goal and prioritizing his time and resources to best effect.

We see evidence of that throughout his life.

  • To begin with, even as a boy he calculated that “being about my Father’s business” was more important than getting back home to Nazareth right after the feast. It’s puzzling to us that he didn’t let his parents know what he was up to, but the Scripture doesn’t tell us everything, and we know that whatever he did was right. But regardless, his priorities were clear.
  • He submitted himself to John’s “baptism of repentance”—a baptism he didn’t need—because it was “necessary to fulfill all righteousness.”
  • He accepted the Spirit’s driving him into the wilderness for great difficulty—have you ever fasted for forty days and nights?—only to face the far greater difficulty of temptation by Satan when he was at his very weakest. Why was this important? Oddly, we’re not told, in so many words. He’s going to defeat Satan at the cross (Heb 2.14); why this bizarre confrontation? We can only speculate. Perhaps he benefits from the exercise of being tempted (Heb 5.8); perhaps he wants to provide an example for us; perhaps there are scores of other reasons. It’s a priority, that’s for sure.
  • He prioritizes people. When he’s on the way to heal a dying son, and when the mob is pressing on him from every side, he feels—he notices—the believing touch of a frail woman on the hem of his robe (Mt 9.20). He’s paying attention in the midst of the chaos. He’s on mission.
  • And speaking of chaos, after days of constant ministry, listening, touching, healing all who come, he prioritizes rest for himself and his weary disciples. ”Come on, men,” he says, “let’s get out of here and get some rest. Let’s get something to eat” (Mk 6.31).  He has three years to save the world, without mass media or telecommunication technologies, and he takes time off, because rest matters. It speeds you toward accomplishing the objective.
  • Sometimes he gets away not for rest, but for a different kind of labor. Sometimes he goes off by himself to pray—and some of those times, he prays all night (Lk 6.12). This is certainly not rest. But it’s just as important.
  • And as the climax of the mission approaches, he identifies and prioritizes the most important things even more aggressively.
    • He sets his face like flint to go to Jerusalem (Lk 9.51).
    • He takes a moment during the Passover meal to send his pseudo-disciple off on his deadly mission: “What you do, do quickly” (Jn 13.27). “Let’s roll,” indeed.
    • He pauses to wash the disciples’ feet (Jn 13), leaving them a lesson and life pattern that they will never forget.
    • He summons them from a safe room to the Garden, where he knows danger waits (Mt 26.46).
    • On the way he pours out his heart to them regarding the things they’ll need when he leaves them—though he knows that they’ll understand none of this anytime soon (Jn 14-16).
    • When Peter does Peter, Jesus rebukes and redirects his godless efforts, and even pauses, during his arrest, to reattach the servant’s ear (Lk 22.51).
    • Throughout a star-chamber trial, conducted in direct violation of multiple Jewish and Roman laws, Jesus never objects, never defends himself, and in fact speaks only rarely and only in ways that incite the prosecution (Mt 26.64).
    • On the way to the cross, he speaks wisdom to random weeping women (Lk 23.28).
    • On the cross, he exercises the duties of the firstborn toward his mother (Jn 19.26).

This is a man not only focused on a difficult and costly mission, but constantly prioritizing every decision, every action, in light of that mission.

Sometimes I think like that. But much more often, I don’t.

That needs to change.

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: goals, strategy, tactics

On Mission Like Jesus, Part 3: Objective

April 2, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Submission

We’ve noted that Jesus understood his need to submit to the Father’s will and to depend on the Father’s power to accomplish his mission—and that if he did, then we most certainly do.

Something else we see in Jesus’ thinking during his earthly mission is that he clearly understood and remained focused on the mission. He knew what he was here for, and he committed himself wholeheartedly to that goal.

What was the goal?

He stated it more than once, in various ways that reflected different aspects of his mission.

  • To begin with, he understood that the Father had sent him (Jn 3.16).
  • The chief mission was to die as a payment for human sins—
    • The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mt 20.28 // Mk 10.45).
  • But that mission involved other specific activities as well—
    • Seeking the lost: The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost (Lk 19.10).
    • Calling sinners to repent: I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance (Lk 5.32).
    • Bearing witness to the truth: For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth (Jn 18.37).

And remarkably, he devoted himself to the mission with a steely determination unwavered by the cost.

  • When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem (Lk 9.51).
  • What shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But for this purpose I have come to this hour (Jn 12.27).
  • Your will be done (Mt 26.42 // Lk 22.42).

So what do we see in Jesus’ accomplishing of the Father’s will?

  • Understand the mission.
  • Stay focused on getting it done.

As in the previous post, we find these elements challenging our understanding of the relationship between Jesus’ earthly submission to the Father and his equality with the Father as a member of the Trinity. And again, our puzzlement about those things only makes us more certain that we, who call Jesus Lord, must all the more understand the mission God has given us and stay focused on getting it done.

So what is the mission?

There’s a lot of discussion about that. :-)

I’d suggest that the overarching mission—the meaning of life, if you will—is to manifest God’s glory, by our living and our dying:

  • Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God (1Co 10.31).

Everything else we do, on any day, in any arena of life, we should calculate to point others, as well as ourselves, to the great glory of our Creator and Master.

That gives everything meaning. It makes everything great, eternally significant.

There are no trivial activities, no trivial decisions, no trivial thoughts. Everything we think or do is heavy with consequence.

The Scripture gives us some specifics as to the ways we ought to glorify God—

  • We ought to cooperate with the Father’s plan to conform us to the image of his Son.
    • Those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers (Ro 8.29).
    • And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another (2Co 3.18).
  • We ought to do what Christ tells us to—as the Son did for the Father.
    • If you love me, you will keep my commandments (Jn 14.15).
  • And in doing that, we certainly ought to obey the last command he gave us.
    • Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you (Mt 28.19b-20).

That’s the mission. Now we focus on getting it done. We evaluate every thought, every decision, every action against the mission. Are we getting there?

Or not?

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: goals, strategy, tactics

On Mission Like Jesus, Part 2: Submission

March 30, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

We’ve said that Jesus is our example for all things, including our current question: how should we live out our mission of glorifying God? How did he do that?

One of the first things we notice is that Jesus submitted himself to the will and provision of the Father; to put it bluntly, he knew who was boss.

It seems odd to say that, doesn’t it?

Jesus is God, co-equal with the Father and the Spirit in all respects. That’s just basic trinitarian doctrine (e.g. Mt 28.19-20). His submission to the Father during his earthly ministry—and perhaps beyond (1Co 15.24)—is a thorny question, as are all questions regarding the Trinity.

Sidebar:

Some people think this is a problem for trinitarian doctrine, but I don’t. I’ll observe that if we had invented God, we would have made him easier to understand, and we certainly wouldn’t have stymied ourselves with a doctrine we confessedly can’t explain. But if God is indeed infinite, and our brains aren’t, then we would expect him to step over our intellectual horizon every so often. Difficult doctrines like the Trinity should strengthen our confidence rather than embarrassing it.

End sidebar.

The Scripture is quite matter of fact about Jesus’ submission to—indeed, his dependence on—the Father, even as it speaks of his equality with him, and it doesn’t seem to feel any need to explain the apparent tension. On the one hand, Jesus says that he can do nothing without the Father (Jn 5.30), and that he does exactly what the Father tells him to do (Jn 14.31; 17.4), even when he doesn’t want to (!) (Mt 26.39, 42), while he also remarks, without hesitation, that he operates on the very same plane with his Father (Jn 5.17) and that he shares the Father’s eternality (Jn 8.58).

And the apostles confirm our understanding of Jesus’ words. Paul writes that Christ was “obedient” to the Father, for which the Father has exalted him (Php 2.8-9). And the author of Hebrews applies to Christ the line from Psalm 40.8 that speaks of the Psalmist’s complete obedience to God: “I have come to do your will, O God.”

Now, there’s a lot of difficulty in understanding how Christ’s subordination to the Father worked. But for our purposes, there shouldn’t be any confusion at all on how we apply it. If even Jesus was submissive to the Father, then we certainly should be as well.

We all know that mission success requires obedience. We learn that during our school days by observing successful classrooms—and successful athletic teams. Success in sports comes when you submit to the coaches during practices, and when you submit to the rules during games. After we finish school, many of us learn it in the military, where knowing your place in the chain of command is an all-consuming lifestyle. Even those of us without military experience admire the effectiveness of highly trained military personnel, effectiveness that is possible only because they submitted themselves to difficult, confrontational, taxing, grueling discipline over an extended period of time.

That means that, like Jesus, we need to know the mission’s objective and then subordinate ourselves completely, trustingly, sacrificially to the sovereign Lord.

One exciting thing about this concept is that our Commander, unlike all human commanders, is all knowing and all powerful. He’s never the victim of a surprise attack, and his great enemy is completely outmatched on this battlefield. His forces are never overwhelmed, or even effectively deflected, and the outcome of the battle is certain from the very beginning of the war.

All coaches eventually lose a game. All generals eventually lose an engagement.

But not ours.

Not the God of heaven, the Creator of heaven and earth, the covenant-keeping God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

We can follow him, safely, to hell and back.

And we can delight in watching the gates of that hell crumble before him, and us, because he is faithful even when we are not, and he is victorious in all his will.

What a delight to submit to the good, wise, and great orders of the God of all.

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: goals, strategy, tactics

On Mission Like Jesus, Part 1: Introduction

March 26, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Over the years I’ve had different kinds of jobs: grill cook, retail management, writing, editing, white-collar management, teaching, educational administration. Something I’ve learned in that time is the importance of having a mission, understanding it, and staying focused on it. You can’t just go to work every day and react to whatever happens; to be successful, you need to have a plan for the day and devote your attention and effort to accomplishing it.

We all know that. We buy lots of books, such as Stephen Covey’s Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, to tell us what we should have figured out from common sense: have a goal, have a plan, and work it. As Zig Ziglar famously said, “If you aim at nothing, you’ll hit it every time.”

That applies off the job as well. We all benefit from goal-setting and planning in our personal lives; some families even have a family mission statement, one that all of the kids can recite and explain. Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg wears grey T-shirts every day because he’s so focused on the mission that he doesn’t want to “waste” time figuring out what he’s going to wear every day.

Some people take all that more seriously than others. At one extreme we have the people on Hoarders, who seem to do no planning or organization and so can get little accomplished. At the other extreme we have people who are so obsessed with routine and process that they drive everyone around them to distraction by how seriously they take every little thing. In other words, Monk.

We can make a case for thinking through our personal mission and goals and strategizing to raise the likelihood that we’ll achieve them—but doing so in ways that don’t jeopardize other important things, such as family and mental health.

Christians have a mission, whether they realize it or not. It was given them by their Creator, the Owner of all things, the Giver of life, the only Being for whom the mission is appropriate, indeed obvious: we exist, he says, to glorify him.

Everything that exists was created for that purpose:

The heavens declare the glory of God (Ps 19.1)

O Lord, our Lord,
How majestic is Your name in all the earth,
Who have displayed Your splendor above the heavens! (Ps 8.1)

In particular, human beings were created for that purpose:

The conclusion, when all has been heard, is:
fear [reverence] God and keep His commandments,
because this applies to every person (Ec 12.13).

And especially, every one of God’s people, those who call him Father, is created for this purpose—

Israel:

Ascribe to the Lord the glory due His name;
Bring an offering, and come before Him;
Worship the Lord in holy array (1Ch 16.29)

And the church:

Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do,
do all to the glory of God (1Co 10.31).

The Scripture reminds us often that our example, the one we should strive to imitate, is Christ himself. Since the Father’s plan is to make us like the Son in significant ways (Ro 8.29), we ought to pattern our thinking and behavior after his (Php 2.5-11).

It makes sense, then, that we ought to look to Jesus’ thinking, while he was ministering to and among us, for insights into how we might pursue our great mission in life, to glorify God and to make his name great.

How did Jesus serve his Father? How did Jesus glorify him?

We can read about what he said and did in the Gospels, and we can go to the Epistles to learn what it all means. I’d like to spend a few blog posts investigating the topic. We’ll find a lot of data there to inform our thinking and our service.

Next time.

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: goals, strategy, tactics

On Fellowship, Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

March 19, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: It’s Who We Are | Part 2: What It’s For | Part 3: Getting There | Part 4: Measuring Success

Biblical fellowship is a two-sided coin, or a two-edged sword, or a two-way street, or something. (The title of this post strongly implies that I don’t know anything at all about baseball.)

I’d like to close this series, and the larger metaseries about the means of grace, by noting that fellowship, our reciprocal care for one another in the body of Christ, is a comprehensive task that involves complex people. It’s not enough to just try to be positive and encouraging.

Biblical Encouragement

Of course it includes encouragement, what the good old King James calls “exhortation.” The Greek word is paraklesis, a term applied to the work of both the Holy Spirit, our “Comforter” (Jn 14.16, 26; 15.26; 16.7), and Jesus himself, our “Advocate” (1Jn 2.1). We’re often “called alongside” to comfort others, perhaps just to be there with a ministry of presence, sitting silently with them in their grief or frustration or rage, or to pray with them and for them, or to encourage them to get back up and keep going, or to step in and do for them what they’re unable to do for themselves at the moment (Jam 5.14-15).

So yes, we ask a lot of questions when we gather, and we listen to the answers, seeking for ways that we can encourage our brothers and sisters through our spiritual gifts, teaching, helping, showing mercy, praying. It’s an obsession with us, or it ought to be.

Biblical Confrontation

But there’s more to fellowship than just that.

This word paraklesis, “exhortation,” is sometimes—indeed, most of the time—used in a stronger, more “negative” sense, one that includes confrontation, rebuke, the image of the coach getting in the player’s face and telling him that he can do better.

Paul exhorted the Corinthians to finish the work that they hadn’t yet completed (2Co 9.5). He exhorted the Thessalonians, without “flattering words,” to hear and respond to the gospel (1Th 2.3-6)—both the offer of salvation and the threat of perdition. Once they believed, he exhorted them to start making progress in obedience to God’s Word (1Th 4.1), and to exhort others in ways that included “warn[ing] the unruly” (1Th 5.14). Later he exhorted the indolent in the same church to get a job and earn their keep (2Th 3.12). He advised his protégé Timothy to “reprove, rebuke, exhort” (2Ti 4.2) his hearers. He told Titus to “exhort … those who contradict” (Ti 1.9). Jude exhorts his readers to “earnestly contend for the faith” (Jude 1.3).

As a former pastor of mine used to say, these are “stout words.” There is grace here, and patience, but there’s no coddling. Given who we are—in the image of God, but broken and susceptible to the gravitational force of our own sinful nature—we need brothers and sisters who will speak truth to us, lovingly but firmly, and who know us well enough to know when it’s time to jerk the chain. And we need to be that kind of spiritual sibling to those around us in the body as well.

We can’t do that for people we don’t know. We have to talk deeply and trustingly with one another, wisely using gentle support when it’s called for, and turning into the football coach when that’s necessary for the good of the player on the field.

You don’t get to know somebody that well just by saying “Hello” in the hallway or the aisle on Sunday morning. You don’t get that far into someone’s head and heart if you’re refusing to be honest about your own struggles, or worse yet, if you’re gossiping about the things they tell you. You get there over time, with attention and sacrifice, and with lots of prayer, individually and together.

Biblical fellowship is time-consuming hard work. It doesn’t happen without commitment and purpose and focus.

But the payoff is beyond words.

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: church, means of grace, sanctification

On Fellowship, Part 4: Measuring Success

March 16, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: It’s Who We Are | Part 2: What It’s For | Part 3: Getting There

Last time we considered a passage from Ephesians 5 that provided some basic principles to underlie our exercise of fellowship. This time I’d like to consider a different Pauline passage, one that helps us recognize when we’re succeeding.

In the opening paragraph of Philippians 2, Paul exhorts the church to live out their unity in Christ in several specific ways—

  • By being united to the core of their being (Php 2.2)—of one mind (what they focus their thinking on), of one love (how they choose to focus their energies and attention), of one spirit (Greek psuche, or self—what their life is all about). (The fourth phrase, “of one purpose,” is essentially a repetition of the first one.)
  • By setting aside their own interests or priorities (Php 2.3a)—not acting selfishly or out of a desire for self-promotion (“empty conceit,” literally “empty glory”; the KJV “vainglory” may be archaic, but it very specifically captures the word’s meaning).
  • By putting the needs and priorities of others ahead of their own (Php 2.3b-4)—which is exactly what love is all about; you demonstrate your love for someone by putting that person’s needs or conveniences ahead of your own inconvenience, without considering future remuneration. As Tertullian argued, the early Romans marveled at how the Christians loved one another.

What Paul is essentially asking is that they think as a team, being united in their purpose.

That’s what our churches should look like, whether assembled or out as ambassadors in the world; we should care for one another, each laboring to make the others better ambassadors for the kingdom. We should be working tactically, maximizing the strengths of every member of the team, using those strengths to support teammates whose skills are somewhere else.

Paul spends much of the rest of the chapter setting forth three examples of this kind of thinking.

  • The first example, to no one’s surprise, is Christ himself. In this famous Christological passage (Php 2.5-11) Paul presents Christ as the paramount example of someone who puts himself at the greatest possible disadvantage—from “equality with God” to “even the death of the cross”—for the greatest possible advantage of those he loves. No sacrifice that any of us could possibly make for the spiritual benefit of a Christian teammate could come close to the example of sacrifice he has already laid down for us.
  • Paul’s second example is his protégé, Timothy (Php 2.19-24). Paul notes that Timothy has a long record of selfless service—likely more than a decade as he writes this epistle—“like a child serving his father” (Php 2.22). From that record Paul concludes that there is “no one else of kindred spirit who will genuinely be concerned for your welfare” (Php 2.20). And Timothy’s service to Paul is not without risk; besides the long list of difficulties Paul underwent (2Co 11.23-27), we know that Timothy himself was imprisoned as well (Heb 13.23).
  • The final example is someone most Christians would have trouble identifying. His name is Epaphroditus (Php 2.25-30), and he spent time with Paul when the latter was under house arrest in Rome awaiting his hearing before Caesar (Ac 28.30-31). He was well known to the believers at Philippi; some commentators speculate that he was actually their pastor, but we do know for certain that he was one of the men sent from that church to bring Paul gifts during his house arrest (Php 4.18), and that on that trip he became sick, nearly dying (Php 2.30), but had recovered (Php 2.27-28). This was someone who “risked his life” for the work of the kingdom (Php 2.30).

So how are we doing? How seriously do we take our fellowship? When’s the last time you risked something in order to benefit another member of the body? When’s the last time you even put up with a little inconvenience to do so?

As I write this, the US is in the process of shutting down over COVID-19. The school where I teach, like many others, is sending its students home, where they’ll finish the academic year through online classes. At church we’re not shaking hands, and we’re thinking about the old folks, who are at higher risk.

There are people in our churches that are going to need some help, the sort that will inconvenience us. Next to the examples above, that’s small potatoes, isn’t it?

Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: church, means of grace, sanctification

On Fellowship, Part 3: Getting There

March 12, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: It’s Who We Are | Part 2: What It’s For

It’s time to look a little more closely at what we’re actually doing as we minister our gifts to one another in the church.

A passage I find helpful in this regard is the opening paragraph of Ephesians 5, which is just one sentence with two main verbs that point us to how we conduct our relationships in the church.

1 Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; 2 and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.

Loving As God Loves

The first verb tells us to imitate God, who loves us. So, clearly, we’re to love one another—and to do so as God loves.

How does God love?

The Bible gives us a lot of information about that. We can all make that topic a focus of study for the rest of our lives—and we all should.

Here are a few thoughts that come quickly to mind:

  • He loves us despite the fact that we don’t deserve it. He loved Israel not because she was great and mighty (Dt 7.7-8), and even in spite of her constant unfaithfulness (Ezk 33.11). Jesus told us to love those who persecute us (Mt 5.43-44), and he set the example for us in the moment of his most intense crisis (Lk 23.34). We ought to love fellow believers who aren’t attractive (to us) and who can’t do anything for us in return.
  • He loves us in ways that made him vulnerable, as the examples cited above also demonstrate. By the very act of creating humans in his image, God was committing himself to dying, in the nature of his Son, at the hands of his own creatures—and to becoming one of us forever. Cur Deus Homo?, indeed.
  • And so he loves sacrificially as well (Ro 5.8).

We should love another like this. If we did, the lost would indeed notice. And so would our fellow believers.

Living Out That Love

One of the dangers of talking about loving people is that many in our culture take that as no more than an emotion. You feel the little thing in your heart, and you click “Like,” or maybe even “Love!” and then you move on.

Biblical love isn’t like that. Biblical love moves you to act; as the most famous verse in the Bible says, “God so loved … that he gave” (Jn 3.16). And so our passage tells us not just to imitate God by loving, but to “walk in love,” just as Christ gave himself for us because he loved us (Ep 5.2).

In other words, we should love as the Bible directs us to.

Again, we could generate a long list of specific biblical commands and examples on how to love. But let’s start with just a few of the obvious ones:

  • Biblical love finds its source in God himself (1Th 3.12). It’s not something we can work up and then maintain. As we enrich and mature our relationship with God, the Lover of our souls, we find a “deep, sweet well of love” that flows out of us and into the needs of our fellow believers.
  • Biblical love finds its pattern in God himself (1Jn 3.16)—as our jumping-off verse, Ephesians 5.2, has already told us.
  • Biblical love invariably results in action (1Jn 3.18)—and genuine, sincere action at that. We give without reserve and without regret—a response enabled and empowered by God.

Next time, we’ll consider what the outcome of this process of fellowship through active love looks like.

Part 4: Measuring Success | Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: church, means of grace, sanctification

On Fellowship, Part 2: What It’s For

March 9, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: It’s Who We Are

Last time we noted that from the beginning we’ve been designed for fellowship, for interpersonal relationships—and that for our time in history, the church is a significant part of God’s plan for that. He even commands us to keep at it.

OK, if God says I’m supposed to fellowship, then I will.

But what’s the point? What am I supposed to be trying to accomplish? I don’t suppose there’s any bigger waste of time than a bunch of people standing around without any understanding of what they’re there for.

Most Christians, I suppose, go through the traditional church activities because, well, that’s what we do.

For as long as this family has been believers, we’ve gone to Sunday school and church on Sunday mornings, where we sit through, first, a Sunday school lesson, and then, a sermon—preceded by a welcome, 2 songs, an offering, another song, special music, and followed by an invitation and a closing hymn—and then we come back Sunday night for a similar but veeeery slightly less formal service, and then a prayer meeting on Wednesday night, where there’s another sermon, and some prayer requests, and then—well, actually, not usually much time left for actual prayer, but we did have a good time of, um, fellowship.

That’s what we do.

But why? What are we trying to accomplish? How will we know if we’ve succeeded?

Church, and the fellowship that comes with it, is God’s provision for accomplishing a greater work—gathering unto himself a people from all nations (Rev 7.9-12), and conforming them, over time, to the image of his Son, Jesus Christ (Rom 8.29). That’s really what all this is about—not just church, but all of history and everything it touches.

So we could say that the ultimate purpose of fellowship is the glory of God—a worship that is appropriate to the magnitude of his person and works.

And how do we accomplish that?

By helping one another become more and more like Christ, a little bit at a time, week by week, over a long period of time (Mt 28.19-20).

To help us with that, God has given every one of his people one or more spiritual gifts, which we can exercise for the benefit of those alongside us in the body. I’ve written a little iconoclastically on spiritual gifts before, and I’ve also written on the importance of our exercising our gifts intentionally whenever we gather. Go take a look at those posts. I’ll wait.

_____

OK.

We gather, then, to help one another become more like Christ by exercising our gifts toward those who need them. As we do that, faithfully, patiently, week after week, we find that those to whom we’re ministering are making progress, being sanctified, becoming a little more like Jesus, even though we’re not all that good an example. And in those interchanges, they’re ministering to us in return, and we find that we’re making progress in sanctification as well.

This doesn’t have to happen “at church.” (Since the church is just the people of God, entwined by mutual agreement, the very expression “at church” is essentially meaningless.) Many churches have set up “small groups” (mine calls them “Grace Groups,” because “Grace” is part of our name) that meet together regularly to discuss the Word, to share prayer requests, to pray together, and frankly just to socialize. You know what happens? As time passes, these little groups get to know one another better, and to develop trust, and before you know it they’re caring for one another in ways that go far beyond the “how you doing?” shallow greetings that so often characterize our exchanges in the hallways of the church building.

Sometimes Christians don’t wait for the church to set up small groups. Sometimes they agree to meet regularly with another believer or two that they trust, and they pursue that same sanctifying work in one another.

Now that’s fellowship.

And you know what happens then?

People start to notice. People in the church who want that kind of relationship in their own lives. And people outside the church, unbelievers, who say—or at least think—“how they love one another!” (Jn 13.35).

And in the end of it all, God is glorified.

That’s why we fellowship.

Part 3: Getting There | Part 4: Measuring Success | Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: church, means of grace, sanctification

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • …
  • 34
  • 35
  • 36
  • 37
  • 38
  • …
  • 51
  • Next Page »