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 3: Provision

March 2, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness

What else does is God for us, because he is our Father?

I suppose the most obvious thing a father does for his family is to provide what they need. Often the first thing a wife will say to commend her husband is that “he is a good provider.” That’s expected in cultures all around the world. The father will see to it that his family has a place to live, and food to eat, and clothes to wear. And that makes sense: since the mother is typically tasked with the care of the children, and since, at least in cultures where most paid work requires physical labor, the father is the physically stronger of the couple, it falls to the father to “bring home the bacon.”

Our heavenly Father isn’t bound by either of those constraints, but he still provides for us his children, and abundantly. Jesus has already noted that he gives rain to the just and to the unjust (Mt 5.45), but that’s just the beginning. I’ve written before on the fact that everything we really need—both physical and spiritual—is free, thanks to God’s provision. But Jesus takes it beyond common grace.

He delights to give to his children, to meet their needs, and even to give them extra. Jesus tells us to just ask the Father, and he will give us what we need: “pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you” (Mt 6.6). Just earlier, he has said that if we make charitable contributions in secret, the Father will reward us (Mt 6.4). There are other references to the Father’s “reward” in this chapter (Mt 6.1, 18). And he knows what his children need even before they ask (Mt 6.8).

Then Jesus gives his disciples a pattern for daily prayer—what we’ve come to call “The Lord’s Prayer.” We call on our Father (Mt 6.9), and we ask him for “our daily bread” (Mt 6.11)—because even though our earthly father goes to work to bring home the bacon, his ability to do so—and our ability, once we’re working—comes from God, both in his giving of health and strength and in his providential direction.

Now Jesus uses an earthy illustration to set his point. Look at the lilies, he says; they don’t do anything to provide for themselves, yet the Father arrays them in clothing of unsurpassed beauty. Look at the birds; they do no agriculture whatsoever, but the Father sees that they always have food when they need it—seeds, berries, a worm or two. Even when nature is broken by sin, “red in tooth and claw,” as Tennyson put it, the creatures of the earth manage to survive and even thrive on the Father’s generous provision.

Jesus is using here a rhetorical device called an a fortiori argument, working from the weak to the strong. If the Father provides for birds and flowers, how much more will he provide for his actual children?

He makes the point again in the next chapter—

If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him! (Mt 7.11).

And it goes even further. If he will provide our temporal, physical needs, how much more the eternal, spiritual ones? He justifies us, declaring us to be perfect, as he is perfect (2Co 5.21); he sanctifies us, setting us aside as his special treasure (1P 2.9), and progressively conforming us to the character of his Son (2Co 3.18); and one day, no matter how far we are from the finish line of perfection, he will take us the rest of the way (1J 3.2), by his grace, because that’s what we need.

That’s what fathers do.

Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: fatherhood, Matthew, New Testament, Sermon on the Mount, systematic theology, theology proper

On Spirit Baptism, Part 2: Clearing Up Some Longstanding Confusion

February 16, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

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

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: Holy Spirit, salvation, systematic theology

Unstable World, Stable God, Part 4: No Need to Aspire 

November 28, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: It’s True | Part 2: Jesus Included | Part 3: No Need to Grow 

Another reason that God doesn’t change, again based on his perfection, is that he doesn’t aspire to anything he doesn’t already have. 

Now that we’re past Thanksgiving here in the States, the Christmas season is in full swing. Decorations are going up, lights are adorning the houses, and the retailers, who live or die by Christmas sales, are blasting their names out of every media outlet, hoping beyond hope that customers will come streaming into their stores, whether physical or virtual.

And those customers—assuming they show up—are there, mostly, for the children, the ones with visions of sugar plums, and Barbie Little Dream Houses, and Jurassic World Inflatable T-Rexes dancing in their heads.

There’s a part of me that heaves a sigh of relief that our children are grown now. And yet there’s another part that remembers those times fondly—the looks on their little faces when they saw the Hot Wheels tricycle or the big doll house or the lights on the Christmas tree or (later) the French onion clam dip with all the chips they wanted.

There’s something special about a little child’s scrawled Christmas list, and there’s something in every parent—I really think there is—that wants to get them everything they’re asking for. As a parent of young children I was honestly surprised at how aggressively tempted I was to spoil them.

I’m not talking about the bratty child in the grocery store checkout line who screams when he doesn’t get the candy he sees there. I’m talking about the stars in the eyes of the little beloved one who really wants something, over time, in an extraordinary way.

When our kids were small, I was planning a summer vacation and asked if there was any place in particular they’d like to go. The younger one, who was maybe 9 or 10, said, without hesitation, “Chicago.”

I thought it odd that a child of that age would have such a strong preference for a specific large city, so I asked, “Why?”

She said, “That’s where the American Girl Doll Place is.”

Aha.

So that summer our travel loop included the Windy City, and we spent a full day at the AGDP.

We also ate at our first Cheesecake Factory there. I think they liked that even better.

We love our children, and we love their aspirations—not just for Christmas gifts, but for life. Later I bought that same younger daughter a Middle English grammar, because she really wanted one. And her love for the Medieval has had far-reaching consequences in her life.

I remember taking the older daughter to her first opera at age 6—how at the overture she scooted forward in her seat and didn’t move for the rest of the performance, drinking it all in. That, too, changed her life.

Just as we want our progeny to mature and grow, we also want them to aspire, to reach, to advance, because we know that without aspiration of some kind, people fall far short of their potential.

But here’s the thing. God is fundamentally different. He doesn’t have aspirations for himself. He doesn’t need to improve his providential leadership skills. He doesn’t need to learn something new, just to broaden his mind. He doesn’t need to travel. He doesn’t need to learn a new language. He doesn’t need to read more kinds of books.

God doesn’t need anything. He is utterly complete in himself.

And that makes it all the more puzzling, amazing, that a long time ago he created. He created the cosmos, filled with all kinds of beauty and power. And in that cosmos, on (as far as we know) just one of its planets, he created life, along with all the elements and compounds necessary to sustain it. And into one species of that life, he placed his very own image.

And for that species, he aspires. He wants them—us—to achieve great things, big things, eternally significant things. He provides us with all the physical and spiritual power to do so.

Do you know the one thing that the Bible says that God “seeks”?

He seeks human beings, to worship him. He seeks them so committedly that in the person of his Son he became one of them, forever. And it is that God-Man who has told us this (Jn 4.23).

God doesn’t change, because he doesn’t aspire for himself.

But he does aspire for us.

Part 5: No Greater Force | Part 6: No Decay | Part 7: Trustworthiness | Part 8: Mercy | Part 9: Confidence | Part 10: Victory

Photo by Taylor Deas-Melesh on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: systematic theology, theology proper

Church Has a Purpose, Part 1: And It’s No Secret

August 29, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Experts tell us that we can’t be productive or successful without goals. We should write down our daily, weekly, monthly, and annual goals, and check them off when they’re completed. We should constantly re-evaluate our goals to be sure that they match our priorities.

Makes sense. I make lists and check things off every day, and it works pretty well for me.

The principle works for organizations as well as individuals. My employer, an educational institution, has goals that they communicate constantly to the faculty, the staff, and the students. Right now, at the beginning of the school year, we’re in the season where a few chapel sessions are devoted to informing the new folks, and reminding everybody, of our institutional purpose, past, and plans.

We shouldn’t be surprised, then, that God has goals for his people. He’s communicated them repeatedly throughout history, even though it sometimes appeared that hardly anybody was listening. In the current slice of history, when the people of God bear the moniker of “church,” he has plans for us too—especially corporately.

In Ephesians 4, among other places, God gives His goals for the church. Church isn’t just something we go to as spectators, a place where we meet people and perform rituals. It’s a living organization with a specific mission. In this passage God lays out the goals for the organization of which He is chief executive officer.

He begins by noting that we can’t succeed without help—particularly his gifting (Ep 4.7). And that gifting, perhaps surprisingly, isn’t supernatural abilities or tricks. It’s people.

Here Paul lists 4 or 5 kinds of people—there are other lists in other places, specifically Romans 12, 1Corinthians 12, and 1Peter 4, as I’ve noted earlier. This list includes apostles, prophets, evangelists, and pastors and teachers (Ep 4.11). They have a job to do: to mature the believers to do the work of service and consequently build up the body of Christ (Ep 4.12)—the church (Ep 1.22-23).

So the church is a body-building enterprise; it’s there to bring people together so that they can build one another up into maturity.

And what, specifically, does it mean to be mature?

For the church, it’s not the color of its hair (assuming it has some), or its height, or its musculature. Paul lays out the specifics in verses 13 through 16. These verses lay out God’s goals for the church.

Why do you go to church? (And what does “go to church” even mean if the church is a fellowship of believers and not a building?)

If you go to church with no purpose, no plan, no goal, but just because that’s what you always do on Sunday mornings, then how likely is it that you’ll play a part in helping the institution accomplish its purpose?

How do you feel about someone who’s working on a group project with you and who isn’t pulling his share of the load?

We hear any number of people complaining about this church or that one.

I wonder what they’re doing to help.

I wonder if they’re focused on a specific goal, and if so, if their goal is the right one.

In this passage Paul is going to describe both the long-term and the short-term goals for the church—my church, your church and all the others—as well as some specific ways we can pursue those goals.

It might be good for us to spend some mental effort thinking through what he has to say.

Next time.

Part 2: The Long Range | Part 3: The Short Range: Consistency | Part 4: The Short Range: Discernment | Part 5: The Short Range: Truth

Photo by Nagesh Badu on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: church, Ephesians, New Testament, systematic theology

On What You Put into Your Head, Part 3: Toto, We’re Not in Eden Anymore

March 7, 2022 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Strategic Exposure | Part 2: All the Trees of the Garden

While there’s great joy in romping through fields of wildflowers, we know that the pastoral scenes in novels and movies aren’t really accurate. There are ants at the picnic and snakes in the woods. The world is a broken place; it’s really not a good idea to follow my recommendation in the previous post—“learn all you can about everything you can”—without putting some sensible limitations in place.

We’re not in Eden anymore.

How do we decide which trees in the garden to sample?

Many Christians like to use the guidance in Philippians 4.8—

“Finally, brothers,

  • whatever is true,
  • whatever is honorable,
  • whatever is just,
  • whatever is pure,
  • whatever is lovely,
  • whatever is commendable,
  • if there is any excellence,
  • if there is anything worthy of praise,

think about these things.”

I don’t doubt that anyone who focuses his mental faculties on these things will be better for it.

But I note a few things about this list. First, it’s not presented as exhaustive; there’s no command to think only about things on this list. Second, there are times when the Bible itself tells us to think about manifestly negative, even sinful things—to consider the way of the fool, for example. Sometimes it tells us stories that are anything but lovely. And third, I would suggest that because everyone’s different, there are probably even some good things that I shouldn’t dwell on—and you’ll have a similar list, though it’ll probably be different from mine in the particulars.

Why do I say that?

Because the Scripture tells us that we need to make individual adjustments to our mental explorations based on our strengths and weaknesses and our personal characteristics, such as our consciences. Let me give some examples.

Paul says, “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are expedient” (1Co 6.12). In fact, he says it twice (1Co 10.23). What does that mean? It means that some things that others can do freely will not get me toward my goal, will not help me fulfill my purposes. I need to stay focused, give primary attention and time to the things that God has called me to do. For example, I’m called to be a teacher. But I’m fluent only in English. When I teach overseas, I often teach through an interpreter, which means I get in only half the content in the same amount of time. Every time I meet a new language, I’m really tempted to learn it so I don’t have to use an interpreter and can cover more material. But the time it would take for me to learn Kiswahili, or Bemba, or Afrikaans, or Xhosa (and those clicks!), or Mandarin, or Chamorro, or even Spanish, would severely limit the time I can spend on my primary calling, which is studying the material and thinking about the most effective ways to present it. It’s not a profitable use of my time, given the time required to gain fluency. It’s not expedient. It’s better to let someone else do that.

In the first verse in the previous paragraph, Paul also says, “All things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any.” We’re all prone to give in to the allure of some activity or other—playing video games, watching TV, eating butterscotch sundaes. Most people can handle those activities in a balanced way, but for some it just becomes addictive. I’ve written about my decision to go cold turkey on caffeine. We need to make the firm decision to stay away from otherwise good things that pull us off balance.

In the second verse above, Paul says, “All things are lawful for me, but not all things edify.” Sometimes we have to decide whether something we’re free to do might get in the way of our spiritual growth—or someone else’s. We need to keep our eyes on the prize and set aside weights that keep us from running our best race (He 12.1).

So as we enjoy God’s good gifts, we do so thoughtfully and purposefully, and that means carefully and cautiously.

Be curious! But be careful.

There’s great freedom in that.

Photo by jesse orrico on Unsplash

Filed Under: Culture, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

Dealing with Intimidation, Part 5: A Sound Mind

October 4, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Facing a Giant | Part 2: No Panic | Part 3: Power | Part 4: Love

When we’re facing something intimidating, God hasn’t given us a spirit that panics and runs away; rather, he gives us a set of gifts that empower us to do the opposite: to move confidently ahead to take on the challenge. The first of those gifts is strength, or power; why panic if you can take the guy? The second is love, which frees you from fearing the personal consequences of the outcome: what happens to others is of more consequence to you than what happens to you.

The third and final gift is “a sound mind” (KJV), or “sound judgment” (CSB), “discipline” (NASB), “self discipline” (NIV), “self-control” (ESV). Admittedly, those alleged “synonyms” cover a lot of territory; we’re looking at a lot of possible nuances.

We should probably start with the underlying Greek word and work our way out. The word is sophronismos, a noun apparently derived from sophos, “wise,” and phren, “understanding.” It occurs only here in the New Testament, but the related verb, sophroneo, occurs 6 times, of which 3 speak of mental health or sanity (twice of the maniac of Gadara [Mk 5.15; Lk 8.35] and once of Paul as a self-reference [2Co 5.13]), and 3 (Ro 12.3; Ti 2.6; 1P 4.7) speak of wisdom, or “self-control over one’s passions and desires,” as one lexicon puts it. Not long after Paul wrote 2 Timothy, Clement, the bishop of Rome, wrote in an epistle to the Corinthian church that the Corinthian women were managing “the affairs of their household in seemliness, with all discretion” (1Clement 1.3), and Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, wrote to the Philippian church that “our widows must be sober-minded concerning the faith of the Lord” (PPhil 4.3).

So this has to do with clear thinking—not so much raw intelligence, but the ability to analyze a problem and to come up with a practical solution.

I had an uncle like that. His name was Clarence, but everybody called him Red, and family called him Hooligan. As a boy I actually thought that was his name, until a teacher looked at me oddly when I referred to “my Uncle Hooligan.” Red dropped out of school after the third grade, I think it was, and went to work doing whatever he could that was reasonably age appropriate. He spent most of his adult life in construction and excelled at it. My Dad spoke almost reverently of his ability to look at a construction problem and just know, apparently intuitively, what the solution was. When he worked with trusses, it appeared to Dad that Red, the third-grade dropout, was doing trigonometry in his head.

I suspect that his skill was a combination of natural ability and lots of experience.

But we have something far more powerful—a divine gift, designed to enable us to see an intimidating problem through to a successful solution. Even beyond that, this is self-discipline; it’s good judgment; it’s moderation. It’s what a drug addict or an alcoholic doesn’t have. In short, it’s the ability to direct your own behavior, the ability to not be out of control.

You are not at the mercy of your own temperament, or your own personality, or your own weaknesses.

Maybe you’re “not a people person”; maybe you’ve always been shy.

Maybe you’re not intellectually gifted and can’t engage in witty repartee. Maybe, like me, you don’t have a natural sense of compassion that spurs you to take a genuine interest in the lives and difficulties of others.

These characteristics do not control you; God has given you the ability to do what He asks, even if you can’t—even if you have no natural ability.

God has given you the ability to choose to do His will.

And when you put all these gifts together, intimidation loses its greatest power. It can make you afraid, but it cannot make you flee the field; it cannot make you collapse in spiritual exhaustion; it cannot make you escape by turning within yourself; it cannot leave you without workable answers.

Exercising these gifts well may take practice and thus time. But the gifts are there.

We ought to use them.

Photo by Astrid Schaffner on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: 2Timothy, New Testament, wisdom

Simple Faith. Simple Grace. Part 4: Working It Out

March 11, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: The Basics | Part 2: The Way | Part 3: Keeping It Simple

The good news, the gospel, is that salvation is simple. Anyone can understand it, and anyone can do it, by simply turning—turning their heart away from their sin and toward Christ in faith.

Simple faith.

And as we’ve seen, Paul does not tolerate adding anything—even a good and important thing like baptism—to the list.

Jesus said that you come to him like a child, in simple trust (Mk 10.14-15). Children don’t know much, but they do know whom they can trust, who will receive and protect them. Salvation is like that.

But we humans are prone to polarism—to reacting against a bad thing by going to the opposite pole and thinking or doing the opposite bad thing. We often do that in our thinking about salvation.

Salvation is indeed simple and free, but it’s not just a single event at one point in time.

It begins a lifelong process of walking with God and growing in him—learning from the indwelling Spirit, through the Word, and getting better at obeying God by reflecting more accurately the character of his Son. We call this process sanctification, and I’ve written about it before.

As we proceed down that path, the Spirit changes every part of us—

  • Our minds—we learn things from the Bible, and from experience. We come to understand theology—what there is to know about God and his ways—better.
  • Our emotions—we learn about Christ’s compassion, and we begin to feel that compassion toward others; we begin to love the brethren, and our neighbors, more as he does.
  • Our wills—we get better at making the right choices, even under contrary pressure, because we’re thinking more clearly, and because we want to.

The Bible makes it clear that it’s not healthy just to “get saved” and then just remain as we are; there needs to be growth and change—

  • Paul tells us to “work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling” (Php 2.12), and he describes that process in his own life (Php 3.8ff).
  • The author of Hebrews tells his readers that they need to move on beyond the basics and, frankly, just grow up spiritually (Heb 5.11-6.3).
  • Jesus told his disciples that those who genuinely follow him will unavoidably bear fruit (Jn 15.1.8).

The list could go on and on.

I’ve been a believer for 60 years now, and I’m still amazed every day at how much spiritual growth still lies ahead of me—at often I tell myself, “Dan, after all this time, you really ought to be better at this.”

So let’s press toward the mark (Php 3.14).

But as we do, let’s keep the gospel true—clean, simple, clear.

Let’s not add anything to it.

Let me close with an illustration that might make you uncomfortable.

Question: Do you have to believe in the virgin birth of Christ to be saved?
Answer: No.

Now, hear me out.

Most of my students were saved as children, perhaps age 5 or 6.

When they were saved, they didn’t even know what a virgin birth was. They were children.

But they were genuinely saved.

Now, later, as sanctification progressed, they were introduced to the doctrine of the virgin birth, and when they heard it, they believed it—because “the Bible tells me so,” and because they were Jesus’ sheep, and his sheep hear his voice, and he knows them, and they follow him (Jn 10.27).

Christ’s people will not deny his virgin birth.

It’s a good and important and true thing.

But they didn’t have to have any intellectual understanding of it whatsoever in order to turn to him.

They just had to turn.

Simple faith. Simple grace. Trusting in an unimaginably exalted God, who in time will take them places they could never imagine. But starting simply, by grace.

Part 5: Keeping It Going

Photo by Todd Trapani on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: salvation, sanctification

On Benedictions, Part 3: He Will Do It

December 28, 2020 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: He Who Is Able | Part 2: Every Good Thing

I think it makes sense to end the year—as many have noted, a broadly difficult one—with one more installment in the Benedictions series. This one, unlike the previous ones, is from Paul. (That statement indicates, for those of you keeping score at home, that I don’t think Paul wrote Hebrews.)

In one of his earliest letters, Paul writes to a church he planted on his second missionary journey, the second European church, in Thessalonica. The letter, which we call 1 Thessalonians, is a survey of their history with Paul (ch 1-3), and a directive for where they should go from here (ch 4-5). In the second part of the letter, he indicates his main points, or commands, by repeating their name—or more precisely, a noun of direct address: “brethren”—as if to be sure he has their attention.

  • Live a moral lifestyle (4.1-8).
  • Practice brotherly love (4.9-12).
  • Keep a forward perspective—live with the end in view (4.13-5.11).
  • Maintain a healthy life in the body (5.12-22).

There’s a sermon series in that list, certainly.

As he draws the letter to a close, he leaves them with a benediction:

Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ (1Th 5.23).

Like many benedictions, this is phrased as a wish: may this thing happen.

But is it one wish, or two? Does the second half of the verse simply restate the first half in different words, or is it a distinct thought? That depends, I suppose, on the theological system you prefer.

Most Arminians—today most commonly identified as Methodists—hold to something called “entire sanctification,” the idea that you can reach a point in your spiritual growth—before you die—that you no longer sin. John Wesley, the founder of the Methodists, said near the end of his life that he didn’t think he had reached that state, although he suspected that a friend of his, John Fletcher, had. It’s worth noting that Wesley narrowed his definition of sin to get to his belief in “perfection”:

“I believe, a person filled with the love of God is still liable to … involuntary transgressions. … Such transgressions you may call sins, if you please: I do not” (“A Plain Account of Christian Perfection”).

If you’re Wesleyan, then, this benediction may contain two wishes—one for perfection in this life, and a second for continuance of that perfection until death.

Other Christians, however, would see this as a single wish: that God would preserve us complete until the end, at which time we will be entirely sanctified, or glorified (cf Ro 8.30; 1Jn 3.2).

Since to “sanctify” something is to set it apart for special use—I often compare it to being in the fine china cabinet rather than in the cupboard over the sink—then it’s at least possible, even likely, that what Paul is wishing for here is that God would set us apart completely for himself, the act that theologians call “positional sanctification,” which happens to every believer (1Co 6.11). And thus the meat of his wish is the second part of the statement—that God would keep us in the fine china cabinet all the way to the end, the return of Christ.

Many Bible students have noted that the return of Christ is a key theme in this brief letter, appearing at the end of every chapter (1Th 1.10; 2.19; 3.13; 4.15-17; 5.23).

Now for the big question.

Is Paul just wishing into the wind, throwing coins into a well? Is God going to give him what he’s wishing for? And how do we know?

Paul’s next statement answers all these questions decisively.

He will do it (1Th 5.24b).

How do we know that?

Because the one who calls you is faithful (1Th 5.24a).

The answer to Paul’s wish—and to our fears—is rooted in the very character of God. God can no more fail to keep us than he can lie, or die, or live without loving. Such a thought is both illogical and blasphemous.

Of course he’ll preserve us and present us blameless when Christ returns. It’s the only possible outcome in a universe where God exists.

2020 or not.

Photo by Michael Maasen on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: 1Thessalonians, benedictions

“What Do You want from Me, God?” Part 3: Mercy

September 10, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Justice

He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justice, to love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God? (Mic 6.8)

Love mercy.

This is a big word.

You can tell that because the English versions translate it with different English words:

  • Mercy (KJV, NKJV, GW, NLT)
  • Kindness (ASV, NASB95, ESV, NIV, LEB, RSV)
  • Compassion (AMP)
  • Faithfulness (CSB, NET)
  • Love (GNT)
  • “Be compassionate and loyal in your love” (MSG)

In the OT, it’s a significant character trait of God, which the KJV translates multiple ways in its 231 occurrences:

  • Favor
  • Goodliness
  • Goodness
  • Kindness
  • Lovingkindness
  • Marvellous
  • Mercy
  • Pity

In fact, it’s the most common biblical statement about God: “His mercy endures forever.” 

One scholar defined the Hebrew word this way:

“A beneficent action performed, in the context of a deep and enduring commitment between two persons or parties, by one who is able to render assistance to the needy party who in the circumstances is unable to help him—or herself.”

One of my theology professors put it more concisely:

“Steadfast, loving loyalty.”

Several concepts going on here:

  • There’s a relationship between the two parties.
  • This relationship is grounded in love.
  • The person showing “mercy” is fiercely devoted to being loyal to the relationship, no matter what.
  • This loyalty issues in action that benefits the person in need.

Looks like the way The Message renders it, as noted above, is the best of the bunch: “Be compassionate and loyal in your love.”

I suppose that you could say, then, that “mercy” is the opposite of apathy.

  • It’s the opposite of saying, “Sorry, but I have other things to do right now.”
  • It’s the opposite of saying, “It’s your own fault.”
  • It’s the opposite of saying, “I told you so.”

It’s living out James 2:15-17—

15  If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that? 17 Even so faith, if it has no works, is dead, being by itself.

We’re to love mercy.

We’re to look for problems that others are facing, and to commit ourselves to helping them solve those problems, no matter how much time and energy and money it takes, because we love them.

I’m not naturally like that, and I suspect you aren’t either.

I find it helpful to meditate on the ways God has shown this kind of loving commitment to me.

  • He’s given me life, in a world designed to support life profusely and lavishly.
  • He’s brought me under the sound of the gospel, through extraordinary circumstances.
  • He’s poured out spiritual blessings in abundance on his unfaithful son.

Someone has said that the fact that God has forgiven us obligates us to forgive others—for how could anyone have sinned against us more grievously than we have sinned against God?

Indeed.

How could we possibly show “mercy” to someone else more purely and deeply and intensely and completely than God has shown mercy to us?

May we all pay attention—on the prowl, searching, seeking for people who need help—and render help in ways that are sacrificial and truly effective.

And may we love it.

Part 4: A Humble Walk

Photo by Luis Quintero on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: mercy, Micah, Old Testament

On Being Like Jesus, Part 8: Closing Thoughts

July 16, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Why It’s Important | Part 2: Why It’s OK to Moralize, This Time | Part 3: Aligning Your Values | Part 4: Aligning Your Focus | Part 5: Letting Go | Part 6: Getting Low | Part 7: Sacrificing Yourself

You’re not going to be called on, like Christ, to die for the sins of the world. But wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, God has called you to be like Christ, to represent him well (2Co 5.20) by serving others rather than being fixated on yourself. 

How can you live that out in your ordinary life?

  • You can notice when someone around you could use a hand. Hold a door; pick up what someone’s dropped; tell a friend there’s ink on his face. 
  • You can decide to spend less time thinking about your own happiness, or success, or popularity, or grooviness,* and think instead about how you can help other people get those things. Pass the ball. Redirect the spotlight. Make somebody else look good. 
  • You can think about the effect of your actions on people you don’t see right now. Clean up after yourself; pick up trash off the sidewalk. Don’t say every clever thing that pops into your head. Leave a loose end on the roll of toilet paper. 
  • You can choose to obey regulations and laws you think—or know—you don’t need, because that helps everybody, in more ways than you can imagine. 
  • You can take responsibility for your own actions instead of blaming your misfortunes on someone else. You got the grade you got because you didn’t study, not because the test was stupid. You got a speeding ticket because you violated a policy that you already knew about, not because the cop hates you. 
  • You can think about the things you’re good at—everyone’s good at something—and figure out who you know that could use your help with that. Did you do well in school? How about tutoring someone who’s struggling? Are you tall? How about getting stuff off the high shelves for the rest of us? 
  • You can walk circumspectly—looking around—watching for situations that could use your help, and do what you can, even if it’s not something you’re particularly good at. You can go out of your way, inconvenience yourself, be late to something, miss a bus, because somebody just needed a little help.
  • You can look for ways to be kind to someone you don’t like. He’s voting for that other guy. He advocates positions that are stupid. He’s a jerk. He’s nasty to you. Rather than unfriending him :-), how about watching his posts to see if there’s something he needs or wants that you can provide? How about encouraging him privately when he’s angry or afraid or sad? How about praying for him—grace, mercy, peace?
  • You can notice when other people are kind to you, or help you, or do things that benefit you, and you can thank them for it, specifically. 

You may never be at the homecoming dance at Richmond High. You may never need to be a hero. But you can live every day in a way that benefits the people around you. 

By God’s grace and with His help, you can be like Christ. 

* I use a word that’s hopelessly outdated to make a point. Whatever the term for “popular” or “admired” is in the current culture, it will be outdated in a few years—so outdated that people will laugh when you use it, taking it as an indication that you are hopelessly behind the times and thus the very opposite of what the word used to mean. Public admiration is a transient and ethereal thing. We seek it as if it were a thing of value, and it isn’t.

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians, sanctification

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