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 Church, Part 6: Changing Churches

March 14, 2019 by Dan Olinger 4 Comments

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There’s one more thing we ought to take a look at in this series. Sometimes you need to change churches. The census bureau tells us that on average, 1 in 10 Americans change residences in any given year, and many of those moves will necessitate changing churches. Sometimes a church closes. Sometimes an opportunity arises, one you feel compelled to take. Sometimes you just have to leave.

How to proceed?

First, when do you leave?

Most of the examples I’ve listed above are pretty straightforward—your boss transfers you to Poughkeepsie, or your church closes its doors. But sometimes people feel that they need to leave their church and go somewhere else. What are the appropriate reasons to do so? Others have written on this, I think with varying degrees of accuracy, but I’d like to suggest a few:

  • False teaching. The church embraces denials of
    the fundamentals
    of the faith and will not change their thinking. Get out. Now.
  • Unrepentant, unaddressed sin. If that’s going
    on, you confront, you call for repentance, and if they won’t listen, repent,
    and clean up the mess, you move on. And shake the dust off your feet.
  • Violations of conscience. Paul says you have to
    listen to your conscience (1Co 8.7-13); I’ve written on that before.
    If you and your church leadership disagree about a matter, and you can’t come
    to a compromise or accommodation, and your conscience won’t give you freedom to
    follow their leadership, then for the sake of your conscience you need to be
    elsewhere. You wish them well, you don’t make a scene, and you most certainly don’t shake the dust off your feet. But
    you leave, for the sake of your conscience.
  • Ministry need. Maybe there’s a church plant in
    your town that could really use the help. Your church can absorb your
    departure, and you talk it over with leadership, and they send you with their
    blessing. The Antioch church did that with Barnabas and Saul (Acts 13). The
    Spirit pulled Philip out of a highly successful evangelistic campaign and took
    him out into the boonies to find one guy who was looking for Jesus (Acts 8). My
    former
    pastor
    did that, and it involved moving cross-country. I’ll confess
    that when he first told me what he was thinking, I said I thought it was a bad
    idea; but I eventually came around. :-)

What now? How do you decide where to find your next church family?

Well, you start with the non-negotiables. The Reformers spoke of three marks of a true church: the Bible rightly preached, the sacraments rightly administered, and discipline rightly applied. Here’s my list:

  • Doctrinal fidelity. Read their doctrinal statement (they do have one, right?), determine that you can subscribe to it, and see whether the preaching and practice support it.
  • Biblical preaching. Probably it’s expositional, but topical and other forms are defensible if it’s solidly based on the Bible. Jesus used story-telling. :-)
  • Discipleship. Believers are being encouraged and helped to grow in the faith.
  • Discipline. If you’re joining so you can get kicked out, then that has to be an actual possibility.

Then there are the preferences. These are important, but I’d be willing to join a church that wasn’t there yet but seemed to be on the way, or at least willing to move in that direction.

  • Vitality. I judge this from the congregational
    singing. Is there worship? Is there joy?
  • Prayer. Do they pray? Do they mean it? Is there
    broad participation?
  • Evangelism and outreach. Are believers being
    encouraged and equipped to win the lost? Are they doing so? What does their
    neighborhood think of them? Is there an active missions program?
  • Care. Do members care about and for one another?
    Is somebody looking after the widows? Will there be a place for you to serve where
    they need some help? (They all need help; the question is whether they
    recognize that or not.)
  • Giving. Do the members support the church
    financially? Or does the church lurch from financial crisis to financial
    crisis?

Church life is really, really important. It’s one of the main reasons you’re on this earth. Find a good church, and embrace it. It’s part of the way God grows you in Christ and gives you victory.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, systematic theology

On Church, Part 5: How You Doin’?

March 11, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

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We’ve looked at the need for you be an active part of your local assembly. We’ve toyed with some ideas, based on your gifts and abilities. Now we could use some help in thinking of things we haven’t thought of yet, and in evaluating the thoroughness of what we’re doing.

I’ll start by passing along an observation I first came across in a book by Charles Ryrie.

Many gifts are commanded of all believers, even those who don’t have that gift. We’re not supposed to confine ourselves to our specialties. You should expand beyond the scope of your spiritual gifts.

We’re all supposed to show mercy (Eph 4.32)—even those of us—like me—who aren’t inclined that way. We’re all supposed to teach one another (Mt 28.19). We’re all supposed to have faith, and to be faithful. And on it goes. I can never say, “That’s not my gift” as an excuse for not doing something.

So run down that list of spiritual gifts again; it’s time to get really creative. For each one, ask yourself, “How can I take a tiny step in that direction, even though it’s outside of my comfort zone?”

Yeah, I know I’ve already said that we don’t know for sure what some of the gifts are. Maybe you’re not sure what “word of wisdom” is. That’s OK; we do know we’re supposed to exercise wisdom, right? What areas of your life in the body show a lack of wisdom? How can you improve in that area? You don’t know? Ask somebody in your church who knows you well. Maybe he can help.

So go down the list. I’ll wait. …

How about another measurement device? This one isn’t original—a lot of people have looked into it, and a former pastor of mine did a whole (really excellent) series on it.

One anothering.

The New Testament mentions a lot of ways that we’re supposed to interact with one another. It starts with Jesus’ “new commandment” in John 13.34 (and often elsewhere), that we “love one another,” as he has loved us. I suppose we could consider that one the umbrella commandment, the one that defines and assimilates all the others. It’s the second great commandment, that we love our neighbor as we love ourselves.

And how do we do that, specifically? Pull out your concordance, or fire up your Bible app, and survey the list—

  • Prefer one another in honor (Rom 12.10)
  • Receive one another (Rom 15.7)
  • Admonish one another (Rom 15.14; Col 3.16)
  • Greet one another (Rom 16.16; 1Co 16.20; 2Co 13.12; 1P 5.14)
  • Serve one another (Gal 5.13)
  • Bear one another’s burdens (Gal 6.2)
  • Forbear one another (Eph 4.2; Col 3.13)
  • Forgive one another (Eph 4.32; Col 3.13)
  • Teach one another (Col 3.16)
  • Comfort one another (1Th 4.18)
  • Edify one another (1Th 5.11)
  • Exhort one another (Heb 3.13; 10.25)
  • Consider one another—to provoke one another to love and good works (Heb 10.24)

And there are some prohibitions—

  • Don’t judge one another (Rom 14.13)
  • Don’t bite and devour one another (Gal 5.15)
  • Don’t provoke one another (Gal 5.26)
  • Don’t envy one another (Gal 5.26)
  • Don’t hate one another (Ti 3.3)

There. That should keep us busy for a day or two.

Do you see how this works? We can spend a lifetime learning how to serve one another in the church, making mistakes and learning from them, getting better at what we do, expanding our horizons, finding new skills and abilities and gifts, ever growing as a body in Christ toward the mature people we need to be—the people that the Spirit himself is patiently molding into the very image of Christ.

What a great way to spend—no, to invest—your life!

A word of caution.

This is an infinite task. You can’t do it in a day, or a week—or even your entire lifetime. Don’t exhaust yourself trying to do everything. Pick an opportunity and devote some time and effort to it. Add others as you have opportunity or as the Spirit directs you down unexpected paths. Slow and steady wins the race.

Maybe you won’t be at church every time the doors are open. Others can fill in those slots. God isn’t impressed by obsessive, detail-oriented frenzy to do everything. He loves you, and he loves your love for him. Live with joy, grow with patience, focus on the goal, do what you can.

In all things, Christ.

Part 6

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, systematic theology

On Church, Part 4: Doing What You Can

March 7, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

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I’ve suggested that you ought to be part of a local church assembly, and that you ought to be active, not passive, in your membership there. So what does that look like?

I’ll tell you what it doesn’t look like. It doesn’t look like feeling obligated to “be there every time the doors are open” and feeling guilty if you aren’t. For starters, not every church activity is your business; obviously, I don’t go to the ladies’ Bible studies or the practice sessions for the children’s choir. In my previous post I noted, almost in passing, that all of us are gifted by the Spirit with particular aptitudes that he intends for us to use for the benefit of others in the body. We can start with that, and focus on the activities of the church for which we seem suitably fitted.

But before we start, let’s be sure we’re understanding what the Bible actually teaches about the gifts, and not the mythology that seems to have accumulated around them over the last few decades. I’ve posted on that before, and I’d encourage you to read that post now, before we proceed.

OK. If you’ve read the linked post, you know that you have one or more spiritual gifts, but that you might not know for sure what they are, and that you might not even be able to know for sure what they are. You also have natural abilities, latent or obvious; and your spiritual gifts might tie in nicely with those, or they might be distinct.

So how to proceed?

I’d suggest that you ask yourself a few simple questions:

  • What do I like?
  • What am I good at?
  • What have other people said I’m good at?

Sure, scan down the list of spiritual gifts linked in the earlier post, but don’t limit your thinking to those terms. Lay everything out on the table.

  • I like people.
  • I don’t like people—or at least, they make me really uncomfortable.
  • I like to stay out of the spotlight.
  • I like to solve problems.
  • I like to hug people who are crying.
  • I like old people.
  • I like one-on-one relationships more than speaking in public.
  • My best subject in school was math.
  • I like to fix things. Physical, mechanical things.

Keep writing things down. Take inventory. Be honest with yourself.

Now, go down the list, one item at a time, and ask yourself, “How can I use this for the kingdom?” And since it’s typically easier to start small, ask, “How can I use this for the benefit of someone in my local assembly?”

You like old people? Visit the old people in your church, especially the ones whose physical health may limit them in some way. Just sit and talk. Or take them grocery shopping. Or bring them to church, if they can get out but would rather not drive and don’t want to sit alone. Ask them what they need, and pick the things you can help with.

You like to fix things? Ask the pastor, or the facilities manager, what needs fixing, and help out with something—something you can actually fix. I know a church that had several members who were good at working on cars. One Saturday they gathered at the church, and the widows brought their cars in for a free inspection and recommendations from people they could trust.

You’re good at math? Help tutor the kids in your church who are struggling with it. Ask the homeschoolers in your church if they could use some help teaching math to their middle- or high-schooler. Especially calculus.

Like babies? Work in the nursery. Please.

Not queasy? Get certified in CPR, or get EMT certification.

And beyond all these things, just interact. Talk to others. Listen to them. Share their joys, their sorrows, their struggles. Pray for them. And with them. Meet them for coffee. Be there.

You don’t have to “be there every time the doors are open” to have a really active part in the body life of your church.

And it doesn’t have to be limited to church. You can use the gifts and abilities God has given you to advance the kingdom outside the walls of your church as well.

Like radio-controlled airplanes? Join a local club, make friends, and live out grace, mercy, and peace before them. Be a friend. One of these days one of them is going to need help, and if you’ve done that, chances are he’ll come to you.

Gospel. Grace. Life.

For the Kingdom.

Next time, one more thought on how we relate in the body.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, systematic theology

On Church, Part 3: What’s the Point?

March 2, 2019 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

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I’ve suggested in the earlier posts in this series that you ought to be part of a local church, an assembly of (admittedly broken) believers—that reasons for not doing that are invalid, and that those same reasons actually call for serious commitment, for becoming an active, registered member.

OK, now that you’re a member, what’s next? What’s the point of belonging to a church?

I’ve written on that question in a stand-alone post a couple of years ago. Go read that post; it’s The Point. When you get back, I’ll tell you a story.

Credit: tenor.com

Welcome back.

Let me tell you how I applied this concept in my own thinking.

I think my spiritual gift is teaching. (Might be wrong. My students, I suppose, sometimes wonder. And more on the whole spiritual gifts thing in the next post.) For most of my church life, I’ve taught in Sunday school or something similar, usually adults, with whom I’m far more comfortable than the Little Ones.

Well, several years ago the principle in the linked post (You did go read it, didn’t you? No? Well, go read it. I’ll still be here when you get back.) hit me like a ton of bricks. Church isn’t about getting blessed; it’s about giving, ministering to others by actively exercising the gifts God has given you for that purpose. There are no bleachers, and there are no spectators. Quit sittin’ around, and carry your end of the log.

So I thought about that.

I can teach. And I’m teaching Sunday school, so I guess I’m good, right? There. Pangs of conscience go away.

Wait a minute. Maybe I’m overthinking this here, but it seems to me that just showing up and teaching every week isn’t really the same thing as interacting substantively with individual fellow believers. The assembly is about interaction, not just action.

So I decided I’d see if I could step it up a notch. Look for personal interaction based on teaching.

There are lots of ways to do that—accountability partners, one-on-one Bible studies, and so on. In those days, I decided to make just a simple, incremental change: I’d talk to a lot of people between Sunday school and church, and probe a little to see whether they had any questions about the Bible. So during those few minutes I’d walk around where the people were, trying to make myself as visible as an absurdly short person can, and just greet people and look for openings.

And it worked. Pretty much every week somebody would say, “Hey, Dan! Got a question for you!”

Awesome.

One time someone asked me, “What’s a dugong?”

“What?!”

“A dugong. It’s in the Bible.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve read the Bible, and I’ve never heard of it.”

“Sure it is. Right here.” And he showed me Exodus 25.5 (he was apparently using the Revised English Bible, or a more common version that had the word in the marginal notes; I don’t recall), and there it was. Dugong hides in the tabernacle. I was carrying a KJV at the time, and mine said “badgers’ skins.”

Well, whaddaya know. I have some studying to do.

“I don’t know,” I told him, “but I’ll chase that down this afternoon. You going to be here tonight?”

“Yup.”

“OK, I’ll tell you then.”

And that afternoon I learned that a dugong is something like a manatee, and that it lives, among other places, in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aqaba, right next to the Sinai Peninsula.

Wouldn’t it make sense for God to specify a local marine mammal to provide the outer covering of the Holy Place in the Tabernacle?

And so I learned something, and my friend learned something, and I’ve never forgotten that something since.

I was hooked.

So every Sunday, I’m on a mission. Walk around, greet everybody I see, talk for as long as they want. Maybe they’ll have a question that I can answer. Maybe they’ll have one that I can’t answer, and I can get back to them. Maybe they’ll tell me something I don’t know, and I can check it out and then use it to teach other people. So many opportunities, so little time.

Oh! Is it time for lunch already? Hate to leave church so soon. So much good stuff to do.

Try it. It’ll change your church life—and probably the rest of it too.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, systematic theology

On Church, Part 2: What’s in It for You

February 28, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

We’ve noted that some people resist committing to a local church, and I think we’ve demonstrated that their reasons for doing so are short-sighted. Even in a broken world with broken institutions full of broken people, surrounding yourself with your fellow travelers—and committing to them—is not only worth it, but it’s a mark of personal and social health.

So why get involved? Several reasons.

First, social health. It really isn’t good for man—male or female—to be alone. Sure, there are introverts, and they’re not weird or antisocial or dangerous. But introversion and isolation are not the same thing, and we all need healthy relationships with other people. It broadens our outlook, it imports a wealth of experiences and wisdom, and it keeps us normal.

But there are reasons beyond that. Any old social club can broaden your outlook. What else?

Committing to a local church connects you with other believers—fellow travelers, as I called them above—and those connections are part of God’s plan for your spiritual growth. When you were converted, you didn’t just find the fire escape from hell; you began a life-long process of spiritual growth, of increasing Christ-likeness, superintended by the Spirit of God himself (2Co 3.18). He uses various instruments to keep you climbing that mountain—the Scripture (Ac 20.32), prayer (Heb 4.18), and interaction with other believers (Eph 4.29). As your fellow believers interact with you and exercise their spiritual gifts on your behalf, you’re going to be helped, even propelled, on your trek up that mountain. I could use the help; couldn’t you?

If you won’t commit to a local assembly of believers, chances are that you’re losing battles in your mind and in your home because you’re trying to fight alone, and you’re getting outflanked every day. And chances are that you’re not that serious about studying your Bible—really getting into it up to your eyeballs, and applying every day the things that you’re learning there. And chances are further that prayer isn’t that a big a deal to you—or that it doesn’t seem to be making a genuine connection.

The means of grace matter. And the assembly is one of them.

One more benefit of committing—and here I mean committing specifically by becoming an official member.

You ought to join your church because if you don’t, you can’t get kicked out.

Well, that was blunt. Perhaps I should explain.

An important part of your soul care, endorsed and even commanded by Jesus himself, is accountability to the fellow believers who know you best—your local assembly. When you’re headed for trouble, God’s plan is that you’ll be surrounded by people who know God and who love you and who are willing to invest the time necessary to see to the care of your soul. I’m not talking here about busybodies or snoops or gossips; I’m talking about people who genuinely love you and are ready to sacrifice their time, their money, their prayers, and their energy for your good. Maybe they’ll do that by helping you move, or cooking you a meal or three, or watching your kids when you have to go to the doctor. But one of the ways they’ll do that is by lovingly encouraging you to walk with them on the road to Christ-likeness. They’ll tell you, lovingly and graciously, when you’ve said or done something you shouldn’t. They’ll forgive you when you apologize; they’ll pray with you even if you’re crying and the whole thing is really awkward. And they’ll love you through it all.

Jesus said that if the church does that, and the sinning person (you, in this instance) will not repent, they slowly ratchet up the pressure until you do the right thing and have peace restored to your soul. And if you still resist, they are to remove you from the church as a way of increasing pressure on you to repent—even as they long and pray that you will repent and be restored to fellowship.

But if you’re not a member, they can’t kick you out. By not joining, you’re depriving God of one of the instruments he uses for your eternal spiritual good.

You’ve left the front door unlocked, and you’re in serious danger.

Don’t do that. Join.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, church discipline, systematic theology

On Church, Part 1: At Arm’s Length

February 25, 2019 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

I’d like to begin a brief series on what our relationship should be with our local church. Like any culture, our culture—early 21st-century American conservative evangelicalism—has its strengths and its weaknesses, its sore spots and its blind spots. I think there are some elements in our church culture that have greatly improved on the way things used to be done—improved in the sense of becoming more in line with biblical teaching—but I think there are also some important elements that we tend to de-emphasize.

So a few posts on some of those.

To begin with, I’d like to talk about the importance of church membership.

There are those who do emphasize it—I very much like the idea behind Josh Harris’s Stop Dating the Church, published 15 years ago now*—but I’ve noticed that a lot of believers—and they are believers—seem to want to attend church but not join. And there are others who make much of being “spiritual” but distrustful of “institutional Christianity.”

Let’s start with the obvious. People are busted, badly so, by their congenital and pervasive sinfulness (Rom 3.9-18). That means that all associations of people—governments, businesses, Facebook, and, yes, churches—are busted as well. They don’t work perfectly, or even almost perfectly, and it’s a constant struggle to keep them out of the ditches on both sides of their obsessive rush toward complete collapse.

Whatever church you associate with is going to disappoint you, for actual reasons. Busted organizations do that.

But we don’t give up on our family and friends when they disappoint us, and we shouldn’t give up on our churches when they disappoint us. There’s a reason churches exist, and those reasons don’t disappear when their fallenness shows up.

Why might some people want to hang around them but still hold them at arm’s length?

  • Maybe an earlier hurtful experience—a real one, not to be minimized or dismissed.
  • A fear of commitment, a fear that if we get involved too intimately, we’ll be asked to do stuff, some of which we might not enjoy and all of which will crowd our already busy schedules.
  • A fear of accountability. We don’t want people poking around in our business. We’re up to something that we like a lot, but we’re afraid that we might be found out, and who knows what would happen then? I have a family; I have a career. I have to think about these things.
  • I ride alone, cowboy.

So let’s think about those reasons.

  • Sometimes people do get hurt by others, maybe others who are really trying to help them, but are just clumsy or ignorant, or maybe others who are not trying to help them, but seek to exploit them for some personal benefit, whether money or power or sexual satisfaction or something else. Those things are wrong—deeply, ungodly wrong. But they don’t change the fact that the victim arrived looking for help, and he still needs that help. There’s still a reason to seek a church that isn’t pathological. But they’re all pathological. My experience, and the experience of hundreds of others, proves it. Oh, my friend, now you’re another kind of victim. You’ve fallen victim to the logical fallacy called “hasty generalization,” or “insufficient data sample.” There are good churches, and there are good people, in the sense of people who are redeemed and well intentioned and competent. So as brutalizing and painful and real as the hurt is, it doesn’t constitute a reason to keep all churches at a distance.
  • It’s true that committing to a church will call for some of your time. (More on that later in the series.) But here’s the thing. You’re going to be spending your time on something—you can’t save it up—so why not spend it on something that benefits both you and others? Why not make a difference? Why not change the world, one image of God at a time? Isn’t that more important than Netflix, or basketball, or radio-controlled airplanes? And who said you’d have to give those things up anyway?
  • It’s also true that a good church will add a level of accountability to your life. (More on that, too, later.) But why fear cleaning up areas of your life that are distancing you from God, family, and friends? Why fear joy? If cleaning out a physical closet can spark joy, why not clean out the closets of your heart? And why not accept help from people who love you and are committed to your eternal good?

Living in fear isn’t anybody’s goal, and it isn’t a pattern for a delightful life. Why not walk away from all that?

Next time, the benefits of getting involved.

*Yeah, Josh Harris isn’t perfect, and he’s wisely repudiated his silly book I Kissed Dating Good-bye, but he’s had a good idea or two, and I think this is one of them.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, systematic theology

When the Impossible Becomes Likely: The Resurrection of Christ, Part 6

February 21, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

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We’ve looked at the first piece of forensic evidence; what’s the second?

It’s mentioned in only two of the four Gospel accounts (Lk 24.12; Jn 20.5-7). It’s the grave clothes, the “linen wrappings” (Gk othonia). Jesus’ grave clothes were still in the tomb, even though the body was gone.

I’d like to make two observations about this simple fact, one pretty obvious, and the other, frankly, a little more speculative.

First the obvious one.

There’s no conceivable natural explanation that would account for this.

  • “The disciples stole the body!” Why would someone engaging in a felonious act—with Roman soldiers sleeping right there—take the time to unwrap the linen strips with which Jesus’ body had been partially bound? Why take the time? And wouldn’t the body be easier to carry if it were still wrapped? Have you ever tried to carry a naked corpse? (Me neither.)
  • “Jesus wasn’t really dead; he revived from his coma and walked away.” This is called the “swoon theory.” I’m trying to speak reverently here, but how likely is it that he would leave naked? Isn’t fear of going outside naked one of the most primal human instincts? (We’ve all had that dream, right?) Why leave behind the only things available with which to cover himself? And how did he roll the stone away? And get past those pesky Roman soldiers?

Now let me speculate a little bit. The biblical account says that when Peter and John saw the grave clothes, they immediately believed. (Well, precisely, John believed, and Peter went away marveling.) It appears that they looked at the grave clothes, and they immediately knew what had happened; they immediately ruled out any natural explanation. John is writing his account about 60 years later, and he still remembers it like it was yesterday.

What would account for that?

Well, if there had been a resurrection, what would the grave clothes look like?

We know that Jesus’ resurrected body was able to pass through solid walls (Lk 24.36; Jn 20.19), even though his body was physical (Mt 28.9; Lk 24.39; Jn 20.17, 27) and could even eat (Lk 24.41-43; Jn 21.13, 15). So it seems possible that his body, at the moment of resurrection, could have passed through the linen strips as well.

And if that had happened, what would those strips have looked like?

We know what first-century Jewish burial practices were. They didn’t mummify, but they wrapped the body in cloth strips that looked like what we see on mummies. We know that this wrapping process had been begun on Jesus’ body (Mt 27.59; Mk 15.46; Lk 23.53; Jn 19.39-40) but had been interrupted by sunset, the beginning of the Sabbath (Lk 23.54-56; Jn 19.42). So we don’t know how much wrapping had been done, or on what body parts. They would start with the arms and legs.

And when he resurrected? If his body simply passed through the strips?

Those strips would have remained in their position but collapsed onto the underlying stone slab. The shape of a body, to one degree of completeness or another, defined by carefully aligned and undisturbed linen strips.

This was no natural event. Peter and John knew that immediately. And so they believed.

They believed so thoroughly that a few weeks later, Peter the denier looked the Sanhedrin in the face and said, “You do what you want; I’m going to do what I need to do and defy your restrictive order.”

_____

So what do we have?

We have evidence that rules out any natural explanation we can think of.

We have the kind of evidence that drags us, even if we’re kicking and screaming, to the conclusion that we’re going to need to keep the impossible explanation on the list.

In fact, we’re going to need to move it to the top of the list.

It’s impossible. But it’s the only thing that makes any sense.

I believe in God, the Father almighty,
      creator of heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,
      who was conceived by the Holy Spirit
      and born of the virgin Mary.
      He suffered under Pontius Pilate,
      was crucified, died, and was buried.

      The third day he rose again from the dead.

Yes, he did.

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Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: apologetics, Christology, resurrection, systematic theology

When the Impossible Becomes Likely: The Resurrection of Christ, Part 5

February 18, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

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We’ve looked at the eyewitness evidence for the resurrection of Christ, noting that the eyewitnesses pass all 3 standard tests for legal witnesses. Now we turn to the second main type of evidence, the forensic.

Forensic evidence is tangible, something you can touch. Is there any evidence like that for the resurrection? I’d suggest that the Scripture offers two, one you’ve probably already thought of, and another one that perhaps you haven’t.

The one you’ve thought of, because everybody mentions it, is the tomb itself.

[Sidebar: today there are two sites alleged to be the tomb of Jesus. We’ll never be entirely sure which of them is the correct one—or even whether either of them is. For what it’s worth, I’m inclined to think that the “Garden Tomb” is not likely to be it, mostly because nobody identified that site as the Real One for centuries, and it’s unlikely that the early church would have completely forgotten it immediately. More here if you’re interested.]

The key characteristic of the tomb is simple and obvious.

It’s empty.

And even more important, it was empty at the time; nobody can say that a century or two later, some Christians came along and removed the skeleton when nobody was looking.

How do we know that?

Well, a number of Jesus’ close followers arrived on Sunday and confirmed that the body was not there: first Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Salome, and Mary the mother of James, early Sunday morning (Mt 28.1; Mk 16.1; Lk 24.10; Jn 20.1); then Peter and John (Lk 24.12; Jn 20.2ff), as soon as the women told them what they had seen. And to raise the ante, the Roman guards reported to the Jewish leadership that the body was gone (Mt 28.11).

It was empty,

There have been a couple of attempts to account for this. One we’ve already mentioned. It was the very first cover story (Mt 28.11-15)—that the disciples stole the body. We’ve noted that the disciples’ credibility argues against the theory. But the story was incredible on its face, since the tomb would typically have been guarded by 16 soldiers in 4 squads of four (cf Ac 12.4), who worked in shifts. How likely was it that all 16 soldiers would have fallen asleep simultaneously? Four of them on watch? When the penalty for doing so was death? And even if they had, how likely was it that the disciples could have rolled the stone away and retrieved the body without waking anybody up?

I’m supposed to believe that? And I’m the fideist?

There’s another attempt to explain the problem, indirectly. The “wrong tomb” theory says that when the women first came to the tomb Sunday morning, they came to the wrong tomb, one not yet used. In their grief, they misinterpreted what the tomb attendant told them. In the following paragraph from Matthew 28, the struck-through text indicates what was not actually said:

5 The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; for I know that you are looking for Jesus who has been crucified. 6 He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said. Come, see the place where He was lying. 7 Go quickly and tell His disciples that He has risen from the dead; and behold, He is going ahead of you into Galilee, there you will see Him; behold, I have told you.”

Hmm. How shall I say this? If a conservative had posited this, he would immediately be accused of sexism. Women are so emotional, you know. And not good at directions. And they never listen when men talk to them.

Nope. I don’t buy that one, either. None of it. The women had earlier observed where the body was buried (Mt 27.61; Mk 15.47), and they had every reason to remember it well. They had no reason to fail to hear more than half of what the “attendant” told them—and the fact the he had “an appearance like lightning” (Mt 28.3; cf Lk 24.4) should have been a clue that something was up. And then the emptiness of the tomb was confirmed by men, who, as we all know, are more reliable witnesses. (Sarcasm alert.)

Another evidence against the story is that the religious leaders at Pentecost, less than two months later, produced no body when Peter announced the resurrection publicly. They certainly would have if a body had been available. But I’ve said that already.

The tomb was empty. On Sunday morning. Inexplicably.

Next time, we’ll look at the other key piece of forensic evidence. You’re gonna like this one.

Part 6

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Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: apologetics, Christology, resurrection, systematic theology

When the Impossible Becomes Likely: The Resurrection of Christ, Part 4

February 14, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

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One more requirement of those peskily unreliable witnesses:

  • Eyewitnesses must be credible.

By that we mean that they must back up their story with evidence of believability. Attorneys will go to great lengths to discredit opposing witnesses by looking for inconsistencies in their stories or by pointing out actions by the witnesses that put the lie to what they’re claiming. It can be as simple as a financial motive (the grieving widow recently took out a million-dollar life insurance policy on her late husband) or behaviors that contradict official testimony (the “disabled” witness gets out of his wheelchair and walks when he thinks no one is watching). Television shows about private eyes have given us thousands of plot lines that illustrate this concept.

So how do the eyewitnesses to the resurrection stack up against this criterion? Well, since we don’t know who the 500 disciples were that saw Jesus at once (1Co 15.6), we can’t evaluate them. But we do know quite a bit about the 11 disciples. We know that at Jesus’ arrest, “all the disciples left him and fled” (Mt 26.56). We know that at Jesus’ first post-resurrection appearance to them, they were huddled in a locked room “for fear of the Jews” (Jn 20.19). And yet less than 2 months later, Peter stood before a skeptical crowd in Jerusalem (Ac 2.12-13) and said, “Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified!” (Ac 2.36 ESV). And shortly later, he stood in the Temple complex (Ac 3.11) and cried, “You denied the Holy and Righteous One, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you,and you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses!” (Ac 3.14-15). And the next day (Ac 4.3), after a night in the slammer, Peter looked the rulers of Israel in the face and said, “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge, for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard!” (Ac 4.19-20).

Does this fellow sound like he thinks he’s making stuff up?

Early church tradition tells us that 10 of the 11 went to their deaths for the story they were telling—for any of them, a simple retraction would have saved their lives and in most cases stopped a gruesomely painful execution. The one exception is John, who died a natural death—after a stint at slave labor in the Patmos salt mines in his 90s.

How reliable is the early church tradition? Well, it’s not Scripture and thus not inerrant and authoritative, and some of the traditions are not well attested. But we do have excellent evidence for Peter, Thomas, and Andrew (and of course biblical evidence for James in Acts 12), and the other stories are credible as to the major facts, especially in light of the extensive persecution under Rome in the late 1st century. “They were not liars. They truly believed Jesus rose from the grave and they were willing to give their lives for it” (Sean McDowell).

This evidence completely undercuts the earliest “explanation” for the resurrection—that the disciples stole the body of Jesus while the Roman guard slept (Mt 28.11-15). Any investigator will tell you than when you’re interrogating a gang, you split them up, interview them separately, and then figure out who’s the weakest link. Then you come down on him like Nebuchadnezzar on Jerusalem. You tell him his friends are saying that he did it—that they’re going to be released, and you, my poor friend, are going to prison for life. And the weak link will snap, and he’ll tell you everything you want to know, so that he doesn’t have to pay the price for everybody.

Nobody did that. Nobody broke.

They all stuck with the story through the bitter end, paying the price, painfully, with their lives.

Now that’s credibility. These people did not steal the body.

So what do we have?

We have multiple eyewitnesses, whose claims are consistent with one another, who are describing events that they simply couldn’t have imagined in good faith, and who demonstrated their credibility by dying for the story.

That’s really good evidence.

Next time, we’ll turn to the forensic evidence.

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Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: apologetics, Christology, resurrection, systematic theology

When the Impossible Becomes Likely: The Resurrection of Christ, Part 3

February 11, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

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We’re looking at the eyewitness evidence for the resurrection of Christ—a claim that we recognize to be extraordinary. Last time we noted that in court, witnesses are required to be competent—that is, they have to have seen something. In this post we’ll look at the next requirement:

  • Eyewitnesses must be consistent.

Not only must an eyewitness not contradict himself, but ideally there should be multiple eyewitnesses, and they must agree with one another on the key facts.

The reasons for this are obvious. Sometimes people lie, and sometimes people are mistaken about what they think they saw. Any investigator knows that if you separate the witnesses and grill them on the details, the liars can usually be exposed. There’s a great example of this in the apocryphal book Susanna, one of the so-called “Additions to Daniel.” Susanna is a pious Jewish woman accused by two lecherous priests of being caught in flagrante
delecto
with a man in her husband’s garden. The priests say the two were engaged in sexual relations under a tree. As she is about to be executed, Daniel speaks up on her behalf, directing that the accusers be separated and asked a simple question—under what tree in the garden did they see the two? The accusers identify different trees, and Susanna is vindicated.

Fun with the Apocrypha.

The Scripture recognizes this problem and addresses it. The Mosaic Law required 2 or 3 witnesses to any capital charge (Num 35.30; Dt. 17.6). When giving instruction on church discipline, Jesus commanded that an accuser take with him 2 or 3 witnesses, “so that every word may be established” (Mt 18.16, quoting Dt 19.15). Paul issued the same requirement for charges against a church leader (1Ti 5.19).

The other problem with eyewitnesses is that eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable. People really think they saw things that they didn’t.

So for a claim like resurrection, we’re going to need a lot of eyes on the target.

What do we have?

As I’ve noted before, multiple people saw Jesus alive after his time in the tomb, and many of those people are the ones closest to him—Mary Magdalene, the 11 disciples remaining after the death of Judas Iscariot, even Jesus’ brother James. Paul makes the claim that Jesus was seen by more than 500 followers at once (1Co 15.6)—and though we have no other record of that event in Scripture or elsewhere, Paul notes that as he’s writing, about 20 years after the event, most of those eyewitnesses are still available to give testimony, though some have since died. Don’t you think that if the claim were false, the Jewish leaders would have found a way to demonstrate that? After all, they all knew the story of Susanna.

The presence of multiple eyewitnesses renders unlikely another modern attempt to explain away the resurrection: the hallucination theory—that people close to Jesus, who loved him deeply and had a desperate psychological need to deny his ignominious end, simply fell victim to their own fancies and imagined that they had seen him—and believed it, many to the extent that they would be martyrs for their misguided belief.

Why does this not make any sense? Two reasons. There are just too many simultaneous witnesses, and the nature of the appearances and the accompanying interaction with Jesus rules out any psychological explanation. Sure, sometimes people think they see the face of the Virgin Mary in a tortilla, and sometimes large groups of people think they see a brief and insubstantial phenomenon. But 11 disciples at once? In an extended conversation with the man they’d lived with for 3 years? Who is eating with them as he talks?

Sorry, but I just don’t have that kind of faith.

Next time, one more requirement of witnesses—which these witnesses unanimously meet.

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Photo by Bruno van der Kraan on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: apologetics, Christology, resurrection, systematic theology

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