The Church as Lone Prophet (A Meditation for Ordinary Time)

The Church as Lone Prophet

A Meditation for Ordinary Time (Proper 7, Year C, II)

I Kings 19:1-15

Galatians 3:23-29

Luke 8:26-39

In 1st Kings chapter 18, we learn that the wicked king of Israel, Abab, has hunted down all the prophets of YHWH in an attempt to remove their influence throughout the land. And just before our reading today, he summoned all of Israel and all of their prophets to defeat the Lord's last prophet, along with his "God" on Mount Carmel. At this point in the story, it's all the prophets of Baal versus one prophet, Elijah, the lone prophet of YHWH. Elijah, again, is outnumbered. The odds seem to be completely against him. But as we soon learn, just one lone prophet with the Lord on his side, is greater than the world that opposes him. 

You all know the story. In the end, the prophets of Baal cannot summon their gods to rain down fire from heaven. The Baal worshipers make fools out of themselves all day long, and at the end of the day Elijah prays to the Lord one time, and the Lord answers him. The Lord answers by raining fire down from heaven, and Elijah's God—the living and true God—wins. And when all the people saw the Lord answer Elijah's prayer, they fell on their faces confessing that YHWH is God (1 Kings 18:38-39).

Because of Elijah's loyal and loving faithfulness to the Lord, by the end of chapter 18, it looks as though the dawn of Israel's redemption seems very near. We finally see a glimmer of hope in the story, where the Lord seems to be turning the idolatrous house of Ahab, and the corrupt hearts of Israel, back to Himself. But as soon as we turn the page and enter chapter 19—which is our reading for today—we hit a major road block. Apparently Elijah's loyalty to YHWH didn't stop all of the leaders of Israel. Jezebel, the queen, was particularly upset with his victory. And instead of turning to the Lord, the leaders of Israel follow Jezebel's reaction against Elijah's faithfulness by threatening and conspiring to kill this last, lone prophet of YHWH. For those familiar with the history of the powerful nations surrounding Israel, reactions of these sorts are expected from enemies. (Similar reactions occurred with later prophets as well, like John the Baptist and even Jesus himself.) In Elijah's day, Israel had become another powerful empire of its own, just as corrupt as the surround ungodly empires.

Even Paul, when writing to the Galatians, was prepared for the hostile reactions of Judaizers who were breathing threats against him and against his gospel. The Judaizers painted Paul's gospel as a threat to the Faith, yet Paul faithfully and lovingly urged the Galatian Christians to follow his example, obeying the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ and not another gospel.

Like Elijah and Paul, the Church is called to be a prophetic witness sent out ("apostled") to the nations. As such, the calling of the Church is to love and serve the Lord through all threats against Him and against His anointed ones. In doing so, the Lord's victory over the idols of every generation becomes obvious to all. But that isn't to say that such faithful witnessing is always easy or even comfortable. It can be incredibly intimidating and demanding at times as well.

Like Elijah fleeing into the wilderness and lying down in despair under a tree to die (1 Kings 19:5), at times we—the Church—will exhaust ourselves through various trials, and will even want to lie down and accept defeat at times, too. But the witness of Holy Scripture reminds us that the Lord is faithful to those who remain jealous for Him. He is faithful to those who trust and obey Him through the high mountain-top victories and low valleys of wilderness wandering—quite literally through life and death. As we see vividly in the Elijah narrative, just when the feelings of defeat and death set in, the Lord resurrects hope within, visiting them with food and drink to endure their long journey (1Kings 19:5-8).

The gospel of our Scripture readings today could not be more clear: In the midst of despair, when most people follow the "Baals" of the land or simply reject the lordship of Jesus outright (as many of Israel did in Paul's day), the Lord does not forget His people. Instead, the Lord nourishes and raises up a remnant in the midst of a dry and thirsty land, to remind us that even when despair or depression or exhaustion has distorted our vision of God's love for this world, God has the situation under control. He has not stopped loving this world of His, even through its trials and judgments; nor has He forgotten His people through such judgments. Just as the lone prophets and apostles were God's means for preserving the Faith of Israel through judgment, so the ministry of the Church in Christ Jesus—the prophet and apostle of our confession (Heb 1:1-4; 3:1)—is God's means of saving the world.

As we learned in our gospel reading today, it is in Christ that each earthly house—whether it's the house of the Gerasenes, or Israel, or Baal—can flee from judgment, and can have its Legion of demons cast out. As the Church of Jesus Christ, we are sent out into the world to bear witness to that One who delivers his enemies from bondage to sin and calls them to proclaim how much God has done for them (Luke 8:39). Our calling might be difficult. It might be exhausting too. But when we get weary and weak because of our faithfulness, at least we know where rest and refreshment are found for our journey. It is here, in Christ's Church, that the weary are given rest, and the weak receive food and drink for every journey ahead.

It is in Christ Jesus that we, the Church, are all sons of God. For Paul says, as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. In Christ we are now a new creation, so we ought to live like the new creation we are, living with gratitude, living with praise and adoration of Jesus Christ, living unashamedly as a prophetic witness of His lordship over all. It is in this Church united to Jesus Christ—this new Jerusalem which has already come down from heaven—that death is swallowed up in victory, and all things are being made new.

Believe that, and don't be ashamed to proclaim how much God has done and will continue doing for the world. And if you're ever feeling ready to throw in the towel, don't lean upon your own understanding. Rather, in all your ways acknowledge Jesus and He will direct your paths. He won't forsake you or anyone else who puts their trust in Him. So put your trust in Him. Lean on him. He wants you to, especially when you feel like a lone prophet in this world. He walks alongside you, directing the way you should go, so that you can put your trust in Him. Even if it's through death's darkest valley, don't fear any evil, for the Lord is with you. Let his rod and staff comfort you, for he walks with you, ready and willing to show the world that He is your Shepherd, and in Him you lack nothing. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

* * * * * * * *

O Lord, make us have perpetual love and reverence for your holy Name, for you never fail to help and govern those whom you have set upon the sure foundation of your loving-kindness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Chief End of Christian Self-Improvement

 "...[I]n both the liberal and conservative camps, the old hermeneutics are giving way to a loyalty to the Bible determined by its perceived ability to help people fulfill their own personal and social potential. The Bible is fodder for positive thinking, or rules for peace and prosperity, or a daily horoscope of customized divine promises. Or, it is not, in which case the Bible is ignored. Many liberals and conservatives alike, unpersuaded by the claims of pastors, professors, booksellers, and televangelists, turn into biblical non-readers, as they fail to find it helpful in advancing their personal agendas. 

 The weaknesses of both historical criticism and fundamentalistic legalism pale in comparison to the problems of the bibliology of self improvement. A Trinitarian and Christocentric doctrine of Scripture is an even more urgent remedy for Christians who have learned to make themselves the thing to be enjoyed, and God the sacramental thing to be used in the service of their own adoration."

1.  Telford Work, Living and Active: Scripture in the Economy of Salvation (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2002), p. 317. Work's closing comments are especially noteworthy, subtly parodying the first question of the famous Westminster Shorter Catechism, which asks, "What is the Chief end of man? Answer: Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever."

Players in an Emotivist Drama

The following excerpt is taken from Telford Work's Ain't Too Proud to Beg: Living through the Lord's Prayer1:

    In After Virtue Alasdair MacIntyre describes three indispensable characters of modern society: the aesthete, the manager, and the therapist.2 We all know them well (especially those of us who have or are leaders in the American Church): lampooned in the black humor of The Simpsons, South Park, and Dilbert, these types are ubiquitous and socially indispensable. As characters, they fuse a psychological profile and a social role into one powerful unity that embodies their culture. McIntyre locates these three modern characters within an underlying philosophical culture of emotivism, which reduces moral judgments to the expressions of personal preferences.3 (In the words of Mormon philosopher Napoleon Dynamite, "Just follow your heart. That's what I do.") Emotivism flourishes among the social classes, institutions, and professions whose purposes it serves most naturally and organically.4 These groups benefit from emotivists reduction of ethics to self-expression. Emotivism is a twentieth-century British invention,5 and MacIntyre's characters are also of course the principal authorities in Dalrymple's6 world. They spread its moral ideology among all who entrust themselves to them, catechizing both their cultures' natives and its new arrivals in the dogma that moral truth boils down to authentic self-expression.

    Emotivism is immensely advantageous for powerful classes, institutions, and professions. It goes beyond even the divine right of kings in absolutizing their authority. Cultivated taste, proven effectiveness, and earned credentials are their own justification. However, emotivism pressures the powerless into the role of a very different character: the victim. The moral choices of a victim are radically constrained by the choices of the powerful. It is tempting to consider the victim a fourth character in emotivist culture. After all, what would aesthetes be without vulgar masses, managers without worker-drones, and therapists without patients?

    The greatest comfort to emotivism's elites, the absolute sovereignty of the emotivist self, is the sorest spot for emotivism's victims. You see, if victims are moral agents too, then at least some of their failures should reflect the choices they have made. This is the condition Dalrymple's patients and inmates cannot bring themselves to face. They plead with Dalrymple that they fail because they are too easily led, or feel in with the wrong crowd, or took drugs because they were widely available. They refuse to take the blame for their mistakes. 

They go to some length to provide an answer other than that they like it and found pleasure in doing what they knew they ought not to do. "My grandfather died," or "My girlfriend left me," or "I was in prison": never do they avow a choice or a conscious decision. And yet they know that what they are saying is untrue: for they grasp the point immediately wen I tell them that my grandfather, too, died, yet I do not take heroin, as indeed the great majority of people whose grandfathers have died do not.7

    They grasp Dalrymple's point because they too are players in an emotivist drama. 

    Like yin and yang, a common moral axiom creates emotivism's winners and losers in one stroke and pits them against each other. Each group's existence drives the other to hypocrisy. Elites must pay lip services to the determinism that comforts victims, but they dare not direct it at themselves. Victims can acknowledge the moral agency they share with their successful neighbors and superiors, but they prefer to shift blame to structures both personal and impersonal. 

This is the lie that is at the heart of our society, the lie that encourages every form of destructive self-indulgence to flourish: for while we ascribe our conduct to pressures from without, we obey the whims that well up from within, thereby awarding ourselves carte blanche to behave as we choose. Thus we feel good about behaving badly.8

    Put simply, both sides live a lie.




1. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2007, pp. 175-7
2. 2d ed., Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984, p. 30
3. Ibid. pp. 11-12
4. Ibid. p. 29
5. Ibid. p. 14
6. Theodore Dalrymple (the pen name of Anthony Daniels) is a prison doctor in the U.K. and an essayist for the conservative quarterly City Journal. 
7. Dalrymple, Theodore. Life at the Bottom: The Worldview that Makes the Underclass. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2001, p. 121
8. Ibid. p. 122

Rules in a real world

Below is an intriguing excerpt about ethics from Peter Leithart's latest book, Traces of the Trinity: Signs of God in Creation and Human Experience:

   We apply rules differently from situation to situation, and we don’t really know how a rule works or which rule to use unless we know the variations. You don’t even know which rule to use unless you have examined the facts. “Love your enemies,” Jesus said. To apply that, we need to identify our enemies. “Love your neighbor as yourself,” Jesus said, quoting Leviticus. And the lawyer’s response was a reasonable one: “Who is my neighbor?” “Don’t covet your neighbor’s wife or his house or his cattle,” Yahweh thundered from Sinai, but you need to see a marriage certificate and a bill of sale to know what woman, house, and cattle are off-limits. You can’t even use a rule unless you know something about the situation, since rules always have to be applied to a real world that is always in the form of a particular situation. 

   Rules cannot be followed without attention to situations, and the effort to sidestep situations is ultimately unethical. It’s another version of the attempt to escape time and change that we’ve seen before. 

   On the other hand, you can’t abandon rules and reduce ethics to situations either. Situational ethics is incoherent.

Master: Always conform to the situation

Disciple: Is that an absolute command?

Master: How 'bout those Seahawks? 

   Worse, a purely situational ethics is ultimately unethical. Are we faithful only when situations demand faithfulness, or is faithfulness a trans-situational virtue? Asked whether rape might be legitimate under certain circumstances, no one will seriously answer, “Yes, of course. There are times when rape is the ethical course.” If anyone does say that, you can be morally certain he is a philosophy professor, that he lives a highly protected life in the academy, and that he would have a very different reaction if the rape victim were his daughter or his wife. 

   Right dispositions are just as necessary. Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons is wrong because goals and motives determine what kind of action an action is. Taking care of an old lady out of greed for her inheritance is not an act of kindness, or even an act of kindness with a patina of disquieting immorality. It’s a different sort of act entirely, an act of avarice. Conforming to the prescriptions of a religious ritual without real devotion to God is not worship but hypocrisy, a vice condemned by ancient Jews like Isaiah and Jesus, by Christians like Aquinas and Calvin, by the Buddha, Muhammad, and Hindu sages through the ages. Evil dispositions make an act evil, but good dispositions don’t by themselves make an act ethical. We might pity the whore with the heart of gold, but the category of “well-meaning rapist” doesn’t make any ethical sense. 

   So, the only way to be ethical or think ethically about ethics is to juggle all of these factors, to keep all the balls in the air all the time. And here we glimpse again the pattern we’ve encountered throughout this essay, the pattern of mutual indwelling, operating at the level of theory: ethical concepts and ethical authorities have to indwell each other to be truly ethical. If we extract rules from the intricacies of situations and the motivating power of dispositions, the rules are useless. If we siphon off situations from rules and dispositions, we will find ourselves justifying horrors. If we reduce ethics to dispositions, we can defend any action, so long as one’s heart is in the right place. 

   Each has to be defined by the other. Rules apply to situations, and we conform to rules only when our motives and goals are right. Situations need to be seen in the light of ethical rules, since rules are part of the situation we’re in. We can make sense of our ethical dispositions only when they attend to rules and remain attentive to situations. These three are one, because each is a home for the others; each makes its home in each. Unless each dwells in each, we don’t have ethics at all. Ethics is constituted by the mutual indwelling of rules, real-life situations, and virtuous dispositions. When we inquire into the “ontology” of ethics, in other words, we find at a conceptual level the same pattern we found when exploring the world outside our heads. We discover the contours of mutual habitation. Since we’re talking ethics, though, the “is” becomes a “must”: ethics is a study of dispositions, rules, and situations. Ethics also must be such, or it ceases to be ethical.

Where he would start

    To those who are "tired of" all the culture war rhetoric, I have one last point to make. If North America were one vast pagan empire, and the apostle Paul just arrived here, what would he do first? I quite grant that he would not start by circulating petitions against the gladiatorial games. He would start with the foundations, which would be planting churches, establishing worship around the empire, and teaching Christians to live like Christians in their families and congregations. We are going to judge angels, so let's start by learning self-government. If the meek will inherit the earth, you don't start with the inheriting part--you start by learning meekness, which can only be learned through the gospel. So that's where he would start. 

    But if one day we got to the point where there were tens of thousands of churches, and millions of Christians, and the gladiatorial games were still going on merrily, and new stadiums were being built every year, then the only possible conclusion would be that the churches in question were diseased. 

    "Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savor, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under the foot of men" (Matt. 5:13). 

- Douglas Wilson (from his blog, dougwils.com)

Trinitarian Hospitality

 

    Some philosophers, like Jacques Derrida, say that hospitality must be absolute. We are to welcome all, and welcome them as they are. That is not the sort of ethic I propose here. Rather, it is an ethic of hospitality that welcomes in order to change. We don’t welcome the naked so they can be naked in our presence; we don’t show hospitality to the hungry so they can watch us eat. We welcome the naked and hungry to change their circumstances. We make room for them so we can clothe and feed them.

    So too with moral hunger and personal shame. We don’t welcome addicts so they can continue in their addiction. We make room for them, and take up residence in their lives, in order to be agents of ethical transformation. We don’t receive the prostitute to help her get more tricks. We open our lives to the prostitute so we can deliver her from her slavery— to the pimp, perhaps to drugs, to poverty, to a destructive life. Hospitality is not universal approval. It is universal welcome for the sake of renewal. We make room not to tolerate but to transform. We’ve made some advances in our turn from ontology to ethics, more than we might have noticed. From this point in our climb, we can begin to see the peak and begin to have something more than suspicions about what’s up there.

    The nature of the universe as I’ve described it encourages an ethic of self-giving love; if we are going to live in accord with the shape of things, we need to adopt a stance of availability, of openness to others and willingness to enter when others open to us. And that suggests a way to reason back from ethics to ontology. If the ethics of mutual penetration is an ethics of love, then the ontology of mutual indwelling is an ontology of love. The world is open to me and I to the world. Persons are capable of being open to other persons, and times to other times. Words make room for other words, and chords have room for all the clustered notes that contribute to their sound. At every terrace, it seems, even when we were only looking through a glass darkly or hoping for some insight into the way things are, we were glimpsing traces of love, love wired into the world, love as the operating system of creation. And as we look up to the peak, we might begin to see the outlines of a love that moves the sun and all the other stars.1

1.  Peter J. Leithart, Traces of the Trinity: Signs of God in Creation and Human Experience [Brazos Press, 2015]

Our New Gnosticism

Almost every aspect of modern Christianity assumes that the faith is first and foremost a set of ideas to be believed. That's it. Sure, we encourage some marginal action on the side, but that's not truly important, not central. Our worship is primarily about explaining and singing ideas, our schools focus on transferring ideas, our evangelism spreads ideas, our apologetic tries to persuade others of ideas, community means chatting with people who share our ideas, our entry into heaven requires holding the right ideas in our heads. In centuries past, this strange obsession with ideas simply went by the name of Gnosticism--the ancient heresy that ideas and intellect are more important than bodies and people and actually doing something. We even have a safe, approved word to hide our new Gnosticism--"worldview."1

1.  Douglas M. Jones, Dismissing Jesus: How We Evade The Way Of The Cross (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books; 2013), pp. 45-6 

Evolution, Abiogenesis, and Beer

When someone argues that evolutionary science has nothing to do with the science of origins, instead of being a jerk about their beliefs, try these few simple steps instead:

1)  Grab a beer (because scientific discussions are always more enjoyable with a nice micro-brew in hand). 

2)  Ask whether evolutionary science has anything to do with philosophy (i.e. the science of knowledge, reality, etc.).

3)  Discuss. 

(If they say "yes" then refer to the "A" steps below. If they say "no" then refer to the "B" steps below.)

A1) Offer them a beer 

    A2) Discuss their philosophy of origins (i.e. what they believe about how or why the world, as they know it, originated).

        A3)  Pay attention to your beer and theirs. Replenish often.

Hopefully somewhere between the micro-brews and the philosophical discussion about "origins" two minds will meet at two identical conclusions: (1) that beer really did make the discussion more enjoyable, and (2) evolutionary science has something to do with the science of origins: it has a philosophical connection, because both subjects cannot be discussed in relation to each other without some philosophical pre-commitments

(If they said "no" to the question above)

B1)  Offer them a beer anyway (because, hey, who doesn't like beer?) 

    B2)  Discuss their philosophy about evolutionary science supposedly having nothing to do with origins (i.e. why they think that is necessarily the case).

If it turns out that some participants in this discussion suddenly feel intimidated, or don't want to "debate" their philosophy versus ours anymore, at least everyone had an opportunity to enjoy beer!

The bottom line is this: A nice micro-brew makes every philosophical discussion better. So while you're sipping down your micro-brew, pray that each party within the discussion realizes that evolution has something to do with origins. Pray that they realize it makes no real, knowledgeable (i.e. philosophical) sense to discuss why the science of evolution has nothing (or something) to do with the science of origins unless both sciences are mutually dependent upon some philosophical commitments.

If theological work becomes sterile

    ...[T]he service of God and the service of man are the meaning, horizon, and goal of theological work. This goal is no gnosis floating in mid-air and actually serving only the intellectual and aesthetic impulse of the theologian. It is neither a gnosis of a speculative and mythological kind like that of the major and minor heretics of the first centuries, nor a gnosis of a historical-critical kind like that which began to flourish in the eighteenth century as the sole true theological science and which today is preparing to celebrate, if appearances do not deceive, new triumphs. If the proclamation or adoration of strange gods lurks behind the first kind of gnosis, skepticism or atheism lurks behind the second. After his fashion, Franz Overbook no doubt was right when he pursued the way of this modern gnosis to its end and became wholly disinterested in theology as service. Although a member of the faculty of theology, he wanted to be and to be called, no longer a theologian at all, but--as may be read on his tombstone--only a "professor of Church history."

    If theological work is not to become sterile in all its disciplines, regardless of how splendidly it may develop at one point or another, it must always keep sight of the fact that its object, the Word of God, demands more than simply being perceived, contemplated, and meditated in this or that particular aspect. What is demanded of theological work is the service of this word and attendance upon it. This may not always be its primary goal, and often it is the most remote one, but it remains its ultimate and real goal. 

    As a further delimitation of our theme, a second remark must be made here. Since theology is called to serve, it must not rule. It must serve both God in his Word as the Lord of the world and of the community, and the man loved by God and addressed by God's Word. It may rule neither in relation to God nor in relation to men. ...If theology is not ashamed of the Gospel, it does not need to excuse itself to anyone for its own existence. It does not need to justify its actions before the community or the world, either by constructing philosophical foundations or by other apologetic or didactic devices. Precisely because of its character as service, theological work should be done with uplifted head or not at all! 

-- Karl Barth, Evangelical Theology: An Introduction [Chicago, IL: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston; 1963] pp. 187-88

More thoughts from morning prayer: Psalm 34:8-16

As the title suggests, this is part two of a series on Psalm 34. My thoughts continue from a previous post, starting at verse 8.

8. O taste and see that Yahweh is good; happy are those who take refuge in Him.
9. O fear Yahweh, you His holy ones, for those who fear him have no want.
10. The young lions suffer want and hunger, but those who seek Yahweh lack no good thing.
11. Come, O children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of Yahweh.
12. Which of you desires life, and covets many days to enjoy good?
13. Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.
14. Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.
15. The eyes of Yahweh are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry.
16. The face of Yahweh is against evildoers, to cut off the remembrance of them from the land.

This section also seems to stand out on its own within the Psalm, being entirely proverbial and didactic in its presentation, unlike the first seven verses. Interestingly, verses 17 through 22 mirror much of the first section's themes, so I suspect that because verses 8-16 are central to the structure of the Psalm, they might also be of central importance for understanding David's theology of praise.

The opening words of this section are interesting. "Taste and see" Yahweh's goodness, David says. Much can be said about experiencing God's goodness in such practical ways as tasting and seeing, but this phrase especially reminds me of Israelites literally tasting and seeing Yahweh's goodness (although, admittedly, there are other ways of viewing such metaphors). This reminds me of Israelites tasting the peace offerings and seeing the ministry of God's servants within the courtyard of His House. There, in the midst of Israel, the people of Israel could flee for refuge and literally taste and see Yahweh's goodness. If such a regular and personal encounter with God in His Tabernacle is in the background of David's metaphor, this adds another dimension to the Psalm.

David wrote this Psalm with the events of Achish in mind, yet David was not in Moses' tabernacle at that time (David is describing past events which took place in a Philistine territory named Gath), nor was Moses' tabernacle a central place of worship after David returned to Israel with the Ark. As David reminisces upon that past, his theology of drawing near to God is apparently not limited to a physical building or sanctuary. There in the city of Gath David "took refuge" in Yahweh himself as though the physical, earthly tabernacle was symbolic of a much more real place. Refuge could be found in that tabernacle--the true tabernacle where Yahweh dwells--regardless of the physical, earthly structure's condition (which was in disrepair since the Philistines took the Ark).

David also makes some remarkable promises in this Psalm. David says that "those who fear him have no want," and "those who seek Yahweh lack no good thing." He also says that "The eyes of Yahweh are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry... [but] The face of Yahweh is against evildoers...." To be sure, I think it's important to receive great comfort and assurance from passages such as these; however, I suspect that many people who read these passages overlook David's point. Many people might skip over what David meant by "fearing" Yahweh and merely find comfort by applying such promises to those who are "righteous" and who "seek" Him. In other words, it might be a mistaken presumption to pair together those who "seek" God with those who are constituted "righteous" (likewise, those who are constituted "righteous" might be mistaken for those who "seek" God). But it seems to me that, in this context, fearing Yahweh and seeking Yahweh go hand in hand just as much, especially if one is to receive personal comfort and assurance that is not in vain. Notice the qualification David himself provides about those whose cries are actually heard and accepted by Yahweh (and not just prayed at Yahweh, and rejected by Him): those people are seen by God as "righteous," and such "righteousness" is not at all described as "imputation" of a legal verdict (as those in Reformed theological circles might suggest). Those who are "righteous" are those who fear (not just those who seek) Yahweh.

What then does it mean to fear Yahweh?

David goes on to explain this in the following verses. David says he will teach what the fear of Yahweh looks like. He begins by asking the question, "Which of you desires life, and covets many days to enjoy good?" This is obviously a rhetorical question designed to teach what the fear of Yahweh is supposed to look like. Everyone wants to enjoy life, and the whole notion of enjoying peace, freedom, security, and the other good blessings of life are coveted by all people. Such were the particular promises given to Israel too. If they loved and obeyed Yahweh, His covenant blessings, such as "many good days" to enjoy, would attend their life. But David follows through with this additional note of clarification: 

"[Then] keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it."

Here the "fear" of Yahweh looks like something particular, something Godly. Fearing Yahweh means desiring the life He wants us to live, the life which keeps its speech away from evil and deceit, and pursues good, seeking peace (presumably in both word and action). Fearing Yahweh means respecting God's desire for our lives, and respecting His authority over our lives. If He loves us, He will chasten us for our sins of speaking evil and deceit, the kind of hateful and foolish behavior which harms our neighbor's reputation and livelihood. The eyes and ears of Yahweh are on the righteous because the righteous are fearing Yahweh in these ways. Those who seek Yahweh lack no good thing because because they are seen by Yahweh as those who fear Him, those who seek peace and pursue it because they know that pleases Him, and they also know that life under his love is a life of many good days. But the face of Yahweh is against those who devise evil in their heart, those who speak deceit and promote evil; those who sow seeds of strife and cultivate enmity.

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus, the Greater David, teaches against this sort of thing too. "You have heard that it was said to those of old, 'You shall not murder', and yet whoever murders will be in danger of the judgment. But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother without cause will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the Sanhedrin; and whoever says, 'You fool!' will be liable to the fiery Gehenna."

Jesus even endorses the kind of ethos which David seems to be describing in this Psalm. Again, Jesus said "first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift (to God). Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge...". In other words, fear God. Seek peace and pursue it. Depart from evil and do good. If you are angry with your brother without a just cause, yet you are pleading to God for deliverance from trials and afflictions, don't be surprised if your cries to Yahweh for deliverance are not heard. Learn that God sets his face against evildoers; so don't pursue evil; flee from it. Don't sow presumptuous seeds of strife, and don't use your knowledge of God's commandments (i.e. "Thou shalt not murder") as an excuse to sow discord among brethren, even if your brother appears to be guilty of a lawless deed (like rumors of murder). You should seek peace and pursue it. As saint Paul says in Romans 12:18, "so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all people."

Separating Sheep From Goats (a homily for Christ the King Sunday)

Last night I noticed that one lectionary reading for this upcoming Sunday (Christ the King Sunday) was Ezekiel 34:11-16 and 34:20-24. This immediately struck me as odd because it skips three verses in the middle of Ezekiel's message. Whatever point Ezekiel was trying to make in the middle of his message, the lectionary discards. So I looked at those three verses and decided it would be helpful to write down some notes about it. After a little studying I just decided to write a homily instead.

Ezekiel 34 is a message of salvation through judgment; it's a message from YHWH to his people, Israel, announcing salvation for those of his flock who have suffered under the foolish and sinful leadership of Israel. YHWH speaks against Israel's "shepherds" because they are supposed to be shepherding like David, YHWH's servant, but are not. As shepherds they're supposed to protect YHWH's sheep from the violence of outside predators, gathering those who stray away, and also to protect them from harm within the fold, caring especially for the weak, but also leading them all to good pastures and clean drinking water. But according to Ezekiel, this is not what YHWH's shepherds are doing.

According to Ezekiel, instead of feeding the sheep, the shepherds feed themselves (v. 2); and the ones they do feed, they feed simply to fatten and slaughter for themselves. The Lord reprimands them for eating the "fat" portions of His sheep, which, interestingly, is the portion allotted to YHWH with all the required peace offerings. They fatten the flock to keep the best portions for themselves. They also clothe themselves with the skins of the fattened flock, but they don't care as long as they are warm, as long as they are clothed and covered. Some of them don't realize that in YHWH's sight, they're really not covered at all; they're actually naked and exposed before His eyes; He sees their schemes and He is coming to judge them for their "harsh" rule over the sheep.

This mention of "harsh" rule (in verse 4) is only found in two other passages of Scripture. In Exodus 1:13-14 it describes the way Israel's enemies (the Egyptian rulers) treated them as slaves. In Leviticus 25:43 YHWH even told Israel that it is unlawful to treat another brother in such a "harsh" manner. Both, of course, stand as indictments against these shepherds of Israel in Ezekiel's day. They have become harsh taskmasters like Pharaoh, instead of shepherd kings, like David. 

But they, the harsh taskmasters of Israel, are not the only ones whom YHWH addresses in Ezekiel's message. This brings us to 34:17-19, which are omitted from this year's lectionary reading. That portion (ESV) reads: 

As for you, my flock, thus says the Lord God: 'Behold, I judge between sheep and sheep, between rams and male goats. Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture, that you must tread down with your feet the rest of your pasture; and to drink of clear water, that you must muddy the rest of the water of your feet? And must my sheep eat what you have trodden with your feet, and drink what you have muddied with your feet?

Notice that this addresses people within the flock, and YHWH is going to judge between them as well, because their sins against others within the flock are just as worthy of judgment as the harsh rulers over the land. In context, these sheep and goats constitute the broader class of leaders within Israelite community, the "under-shepherds" so to speak. YHWH provides a good pasture for them to  feed on, but that's not good enough; they tread down the rest of the pasture without consideration of others who could glean there too. What they did not need for themselves, they left as damaged goods for others. Even though they enjoy drinking from clean and clear water, they leave the rest of the water from which others drink to be murky and muddy. The natural resources are limited, and they use their power to their own advantage; they forsake the responsibilities of caring and considering the well-being of their "weaker" brothers, and YHWH sees this and is abhorred by it. To prevent this from happening again, YHWH says he will intervene, setting one Shepherd--a Davidic Shepherd (vv. 23-24)--in their midst to judge between "sheep and sheep." Simply being a "sheep" of his pasture on that day of YHWH's visitation won't be good enough. Some sheep--the "fat" ones (vv. 16, 20)--will be destroyed. 

All of this message, of course, takes place within a certain historical context. In this case, Ezekiel's message of the Lord coming to judge his people, saving some and separating others for judgment, refers to time of Israel at the end of the books of Kings and Chronicles, the time when we learn about an eclipse of Israel's empire, the destruction of Solomon's Temple, and the exile of God's people to Babylon. All of that, we learn from Ezekiel and prophets, occurred because Israel loved evil deeds; they would not come to the light because their deeds were evil, and they enjoyed that evil as though it were good. At that time YHWH was determined to judge his people for their wickedness because they had become like all the surrounding pagan nations. He would lead a new exodus  of his people and build His house in Babylon for a time (which is what the book of Daniel describes), but his curses would fall upon Jerusalem and its rulers like the nation of Egypt from which He delivered them, the Egypt that Israel had now become. 

However, this is not simply a description of Israel long ago, before they went into exile. In the other lectionary reading for this day, the message of Jesus in Matthew 25:31-46 speaks the same way, using the same language of separating sheep from goats. In that passage, Jesus was talking about his coming in judgment upon Israel in that generation, and their exile culminating in 70A.D. with the destruction of Herod's Temple. In that message of Jesus, a Shepherd-King like David comes in His glory, with all His angels, to visit Israel. All nations are gathered before the Lord because all nations have been given to Him as an inheritance, and on the day of the His visitation Jesus said there would be separation. Interestingly, the judgment Jesus spoke of is not based on what the sheep and the goats believed per se, but rather on what they did, how they behaved toward one another, whether they trampled down good pastures and muddied waters with their feet (or not). And the same is true regarding the salvation he brings to them. When this Davidic-King of Matthew 25 welcomes those among His flock to inherit the kingdom, He doesn't welcome them based on the imputation of Christ's active obedience, or even their belief in such technical scholarly conjectures (however thoughtful or helpful they may be); instead He welcomes them because they fed His brothers with the good portion of their own pastures. They gave others within the fold clean water to drink. When they saw a stranger destitute, they welcomed him into their homes, and if they were naked, they clothed them with their own wool; if they were sick, they tended to their needs. When their brothers were imprisoned for following Jesus and his apostles, instead of following the Scribes and Pharisees, they visited their brothers in prison. They sacrificed what was their own to provide for their brothers. They didn't use their power to oppress others within the fold; instead they used all their power to do what Jesus did for them. 

Brothers and sisters in Christ, we are the sheep of His pasture too. The Church today suffers from the same temptations as Israel in Ezekiel's day and in Jesus' day. And the Lord sees all of it just as he always has. We are all naked and exposed before him. We can't hide our abuse of power. We can't hide our envy of our neighbors. We can't sit idly by and watch our neighbor being oppressed and think that Jesus, the King of kings, is somehow indifferent to it all. Brothers and sisters, He sees it all. He knows it all. And we shouldn't be surprised that many of the judgments we see around us, and around the world, arise as a result of his many visitations upon his people. Jesus comes to His house and inspects his flock every week as we gather together to worship him. Through our assembling together, all of us enter His holy presence in the liturgy, and all of us enter with some sin; all of us enter with some mud or grass on our feet from the good pastures we tread down wrongly. And YHWH sees it. Christ sees it all; which is why, each and every week, we bow down before him on our knees, imploring him for his mercy and forgiveness, so that we can be washed clean, clothed in his righteousness, and welcomed in to His house to feast at his table.

Each and every week the Lord comes to visit us, and He will continue to do this in every place of worship throughout the course of redemptive history; a similar day of visitation awaits this fallen, sinful world too on the last day. Only that day will be a total separation of goats from sheep, evil from good, darkness from light, of muddy waters and trampled fields from a well-watered garden with springs that well up to eternal life. 

Each and every week in the liturgy we gather because the Lord has already separated us from the darkness and welcomed us into His marvelous light. We are gathered together by the Spirit of God to be exposed and judged and shaped by His light, not to hide from it. He gathers us together so that in Christ we become the light of the world. In Jesus' sermon on the mount, Jesus looked at all his disciples and said "You are the light of the world." When you hear God's Word, remember that Jesus is speaking the same message to you, His disciples. As Christ speaks to you, remember that Christ gives light to this world of darkness so that it spreads everywhere. People don't light a lamp and then hide it under a basket. In this same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. Good works are what the Body of Christ, the New Israel of God, is called to do. And we do them not simply because the God tells us to--which, if you think about it, should be sufficient for us to respond favorably--but also because God provides everything we need to want to do so.

Earlier in this chapter, chapter 34 of Ezekiel, we learn that because the shepherds of Israel failed to feed the Lord's sheep, the Lord Himself promised to come down and feed them, leading them to rich pastures. He would come down and visit His people, seeking the lost, bringing back those who strayed away, binding up their broken hearts, and strengthening the sick. All of this He promised to do as the greater David, the great Shepherd-King of the sheep. People of God, this Great Shepherd, our Lord Jesus, invites us today to rich pastures here at His Table. It is in this place of worship that He comes to visit us each week, and it is here in this meal where the lost are found, where those who have strayed are brought together, where the broken are restored, the sick are healed, and the weak are strengthened.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

One Thought

God's entire counsel may be reduced to one thought, that in the end of the ages He may have a Church which shall understand His love and return it.

- Abraham Kuyper

Ignatius of Antioch on spiritual warfare

Labor with one another; contend together, run together, suffer together, sleep together, and rise together; as the stewards and assessors and ministers of God. Please him under whom ye war, and from whom ye receive your wages. Let none of you be found a deserter; but let your baptism remain as your arms--your faith as your helmet--your charity as your spear--your patience as your whole armor. Let your works be your charge, so that you may receive a suitable reward. Be long-suffering, therefore, towards each other, in meekness, as God is towards you. Let me have joy of you in all things. 

-- St. Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, fall 107 A.D. [Letter to Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna]

"Inerrancy" often works like that

Commenting on God's communication to mankind as mediated through the Holy Scriptures, and the way "biblicism" often fails to understand and appreciate the differences of meaning communicated throughout Scripture, Christian Smith makes these fascinating observations:

   Locutionary acts utter or inscribe words, illocutionary acts use uttered or inscribed words to perform communications concerning the purpose or disposition of the speaker or writer, and perlocutionary acts rely on uttered or inscribed words to accomplish a particular effect in the hearer or speaker. All of it concerns getting things done with speech. But the things gotten done are different in quality and "locution," even when they are all gotten done by means of a single speech act, such as uttering the phrase, "Let him have it."

   The point of distinguishing these three speech acts is to help us to recognize that the use of speech to communicate is not a simple matter of speakers intending to make clear propositional statements that, when properly interpreted, reproduce the original propositional meaning in the minds of those receiving the statements. It is more complicated than that.  

...The meanings of terms such as "error," "mistaken," "inaccurate," and "fallible" become not entirely straightforward when speech acts are understood in this way. Of course, certain kinds of cases can be straightforward about descriptive truth or falsehood. If the illocutionary action of the locution, "Jesus went throughout Galilee," for example, is to inform hearers or readers about actual events in specific locations, then if Jesus had never been to Galilee, the locution would be in error and the related illocutionary act would be performed fallibly. In such cases of reporting mistakes, the readers or hearers would then have good reason to increase their distrust of the speaker or writer.  

   But many cases of speech communication are not that simple. Consider some of the illocutionary acts named above [previously]: commanding, promising, warning, asking, assuring, appealing, criticizing, offering, honoring, bequeathing, and challenging. What would it mean for them to be in error or mistaken? Is it even strictly possible? Can a command itself be inaccurate? No. Commands can be unauthorized or misguided but not inaccurate. Can an appeal be mistaken? Not really. Appeals can be hopeless or unnecessary but not mistaken. Can a promise itself be in error? No exactly. A promise, by virtue of its own future orientation, may later prove to have been empty or untrustworthy. And present knowledge about the one making the promise may provide grounds to judge his or her promises as unlikely to be fulfilled. But promises as promises per se are not the sort of things that either entail errors or do not. 

   Given the richness of the variety of kinds of speech acts that appear to be at work in the Bible, therefore, it seems quite inadequate to try to describe or defend scripture's truthfulness, reliability, authority, and whatever else we might say on its behalf with single, technical terms like "inerrancy." That particular term---a favorite of many evangelicals---tends to zero in on matters of accuracy in reporting on facts and events as a matter of correspondence between propositions and the real states to which those propositions refer. But that term tends not to capture the multitude of other ways in which the locutions of texts and their illocutionary and perlocutionary acts may or may not be reliable, authoritative, compelling, powerful, inviting, and so on.  

   Imagine, for instance. that you comfort someone in distress over her deep personal loss and then the next day have her thank you profusely for your being so precise or aesthetically stimulating. It would not compute. Those terms would simply not capture the quality of the merits of your comforting actions that deserve appreciation and gratitude. "Inerrancy" often works like that. 

   Evangelical defenders of biblical inerrancy are used to the typical charge by more liberal critics that "inerrancy" is too strong, extreme, or demanding of a concept to accurately describe what the Bible is. What I am suggesting here is quite the opposite. "Inerrancy" is far too limited, narrow, restricted, flat, and weak a term to represent the many virtues of the Bible that are necessary to recognize, affirm, and commend the variety of speech acts performed in scripture. I suspect that most evangelicals, including biblicists, more or less intuitively know this. Nevertheless, lacking a richer and more appropriate vocabulary with which to work in thinking about and describing the Bible, far too many evangelicals---who understandably feel the need not to compromise on their "high view" of the Bible---stretch the technical term "inerrancy" to applications and meanings beyond its reasonable use value. But in the end it is not a helpful situation for enabling people to read, understand, and live from the Bible. 

   In sum, recognizing the distinctions between locutionary, illocutionary, and perlocutionary speech acts forces upon Bible interpreters a difficult set of questions. God may be doing quite different things by "saying" quite different things. So, we need to ask not only what the text appears to say in our English translations and what is as a locution apparently said in the linguistic context in which it was originally spoken or inscribed. We also need to consider what illocutionary and perlocutionary acts the writers and divine inspirer were performing in expressing their various locutions. They could often be any number of things. Insofar as the Bible is at once both a fully human and divinely inspired collection of texts, as evangelicals believe, we also need to ask whether the illocutionary acts of the human writer are the same as the illocutionary acts of God in inspiring them.  

   ...The point of all of this is not to complicate scripture reading so much that we all collapse into exegetical despair, but rather to complicate the scripture reading of evangelical biblicists enough to provoke a shift away from their overconfident, simplistic readings of the Bible in problematic ways. It is never enough to argue, "Well, that's just what it says right there in black and white." If we believe that God wants to communicate to us through the mediation of the Bible, we have to ponder the various things God may be doing in, to, and among us through the locutions of scripture.1

1.  Christian Smith, The Bible Made Impossible: Why Biblicism Is Not a Truly Evangelical Reading of Scripture [Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press; 2011], pp. 157, 159-162 

 

Taking God Down With Us

Commenting on Genesis 3, Farrar Capon writes:

Eve is not just "the woman" to Adam now; he tells the LORD that she's the woman "YOU gave me." Once the blame game has started, you see, it will stoop to anything to avoid a time out --- even if it might give us a respite from battling God's offensive line-up. On and on we've gone, complaining but never letting up. "Why does God allow terrorists to fly planes into buildings?" "What sort of God would let my innocent baby die of leukemia?" "If God is just, why do the wicked prosper?" "Why did he give me a wife who can't tell north from south?" We will take even God himself down with us, if that will assuage our indignation at a deity we ourselves invented.1

1.  Robert Farrar Capon, Genesis The Movie [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company; 2003], p. 305

Misusing and Abusing the Keys of Christ's Kingdom (Matt. 18, sections A & A')

As noted in previous posts, chapter 18 of Matthew's gospel is one of five discourses that divide the entire book, and it also happens to be structured in a neat 5-point chiasm:

A)  18:1-4  Becoming like children in the kingdom of heaven: Humility before brethren who turn-back
    B)  18:5-9  If a brother causes another brother to stumble
        C)  18:10-14  Do not despise the Father's lost sheep
    B')  18:15-22  If a brother sins against another brother
A')  18:23-35  What the kingdom of heaven is like: Forgiveness of brethren who ask for it

Verse one of chapter 18 begins with a seemingly odd statement: 

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, "Who then is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" 

I mention that this is seemingly odd because of what narrative it immediately follows. In the last narrative section, Jesus had a private discussion with his apostle, Peter, about the importance of not "offending" (Greek: scandalizomen) a Jewish tax collector (the collector of the two-drachma temple tax in 17:22-27). Jesus did not want to cause his Jewish brother--his brother in covenant with Yahweh--to stumble (scandalizomen) and lose respect for Jesus as a Rabbi (teacher) of Israel. Because Jesus wanted to teach Peter how important that lesson was to learn, as one who was just given keys to the kingdom of heaven, to bind and to loosen people on earth (Matt. 16:19), he told Peter to go fish in the nearby lake and grab a coin out of its mouth, miraculously provided to cover the temple tax for both of them: 

"...not to give offense (scandalizomen) to them, go to the sea and cast a hook and take the first fish that comes up, and when you open its mouth you will find a stater.1 Take that and give it to them in the place of you and me." (17:27)

It is after this lesson that Jesus' apostles ask him, "Who then is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" 

The apostles were not concerned about abstract theological or eschatological concepts. They were not concerned about who the most powerful, most important, or most influential human being in heaven was going to be. They were concerned about who, on earth among them, would be the greatest ruler of the Church. Jesus had just finished telling them twice that he was about to go to Jerusalem and be delivered into the hands of the chief priests, elders, and scribes to be killed (16:21; 17:22-23), and Matthew tells us that "they were greatly distressed" (17:23). The very next conversation between Jesus and his apostles involves this same concern, and they want to know who the greatest apostle is among Jesus' disciples. They want to know who the greatest apostle is because it would be Jesus' apostles who would rule over the people of God, the new Israel united with him in his death, resurrection, and ascension (Matt. 10:1-7; c.f. Mark 9:33-41; Luke 9:46-50; 22:24-30). 

At this point it's important to notice that what Jesus does next is just as valuable as what he says next. 

Matthew tells us that Jesus called a child to himself and set him before him.  In other words, an Israelite child within earshot was called by Jesus; after that call, the child turned toward Jesus and was willing to sit before him. Then Jesus spoke, saying: "Truly I say to you" --and the you is plural in the following instruction, referring to his apostles who are in the room with him-- "unless you (plural) are turned back and come to be like children, you (plural) will not come into the kingdom of heaven; whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

This was a warning from Jesus to his apostles that even they could fall from grace. This was a warning that even they might stumble (scandalizo) and fall short of entering the kingdom (and as we find out later, Judas would be one of them in the room to actually do so). If they were to rule the new Israel, they were supposed to rule the way Jesus wanted them to; and Jesus wanted them to heed his call and humble themselves like the child did. If they found themselves straying away from him, they need to turn back around and follow him. They were to do this precisely because they represented Jesus, their king, as they went about exercising authority over the Church in his name. They were  not to expect the people of Israel, like the Jewish Temple-tax collector in the previous narrative, to heed Jesus' call if they were not willing to humble themselves and follow Jesus to the end, just as Jesus humbled himself and followed his Father's will to the end. If they were to be shepherds of Israel, they were to emulate their Chief Shepherd, Jesus. 

Although this comes from the next section of the discourse, Jesus' following comments should not be overlooked either. Immediately after section "A" Jesus says: 

"and whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to stumble (scandalizo), it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea." (18:5-6)

This echoes something Jesus told his disciples in one of his previous discourses. In chapter ten, when speaking of his coming in judgment upon that generation of rebellious Israelites (10:16-23), Jesus said that "Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me" (10:4). The word for "sent" in 10:4 is, literally, apostled. The Father commissioned Jesus to be His apostle, sending him into the midst of Israel, and so Jesus commissioned twelve disciples to be his apostles in the midst of Israel too. Jesus sent them into the midst of wolves dressed in sheep's clothing to rescue his perishing sheep. Jesus sent them to preach and teach that the last days of the old covenant were upon them, and that they needed to follow him if they were to be saved; they needed to put their trust in Jesus and the word of the ones he sent in order to enter into the kingdom of heaven. In Matthew 18, Jesus is reminding his disciples again about how serious this responsibility is. It is so serious that if they don't humble themselves and come to be like children before Jesus, even they won't enter the kingdom of heaven. (And as I mentioned a moment ago, Judas was one of the apostles who would fall away prior to entering.) 

As noted above, this entire discourse between Jesus and his apostles is unified. Units "A" and "A'" mirror each other in their emphasis upon the kingdom of heaven (18:1, 23). Between these units we find a discussion about causing fellow Israelite brothers to stumble (scandalizo) in their walk back toward (and with) Jesus. In between these sections we learn why it was important for the apostles to not be a stumbling-block before other brethren, and also what kinds of ways they could behave if they were to confront another Jewish brethren that remained stumbling blocks (scandalizomen) before others. (Throughout the book of Acts, the enemies of the Christians are not Gentiles; they're Jews who don't accept the claims of Jesus and his apostles about his lordship. Imagine how difficult it would have been to minister to Jewish brethren caught in the tension between the faith they were raised their whole lives to believe, i.e. temple-centered Judaism, and the message of the apostles about Jesus-centered Christianity.) In the center of all five sections (seen above) we find the Father's love for His people; we find the very heart of the Father's will in sending His Son into the midst of Israel. We also find the heart of Jesus, who wants his apostles to become like "sons" of their Heavenly Father too. 

In the corresponding section to "A" (18:23-35, section "A'") Jesus provides a parable about a king who wanted to settle accounts with his slaves. This, of course, is a parable about the will of the Father in sending his Son into the midst of Israel to represent him, and the slaves are likened unto Jesus' apostles and their treatment of the people within the King's realm. The "King" visits his people, and the "Lord" goes to collect debt appropriately. After pronouncing judgment against him, the slave begs his Lord for mercy and promises to pay what he owes. Because the slave pleads with him and promises to pay off his debt, the Lord then has compassion upon him, releases him from the pronounced judgment, and forgives him. Mentioning these things is not accidental. It is intentionally illustrative of how Jesus approached his apostles. He came to them. He pronounced judgment upon them, saying "Repent! For the kingdom of heaven is at hand!" They believed, repented, and followed him; and he showed compassion upon them, absolved them, and forgave them. This was to be the way they ruled the new Israel. This was to be their reminder in their time of trial, when they found fellow Israelites causing others to stumble and fall on their way into the kingdom, on their walk with Jesus, after hearing his call. They were to forgive their "offensive" Israelite brothers in the same way. They could pronounce judgment justly even as their Lord did, but if their brethren were to plead with them, they were to forgive. Even if their brother was to sin against them seventy times, they were to forgive that many times. The reason for this overflowing, abundant amount of forgiveness was, of course, because the people of Israel were living in a terminal generation. God's judgment upon them was at hand (Matt 3:7-12). They were the ones who received "little ones" into the fold of God to receive Christ, and in the receiving of them they were supposed to forgive from the heart too, not just superficially, because that too is what would show the heart of their Father in heaven: that every one of His sheep is worth saving.

These instructions were originally to Jesus' apostles, but they apply to all other apostles of Christ's Church as well. When God calls people to Himself, and then commissions some of them to represent Him and rule over His sheep, that exercise of authority is supposed to be accompanied with humility; and not just any definition of humility will do. Humility, in this case, must be defined by the illustration laid out by Jesus. They must come to be like children before Jesus. They must not be be a stumbling-block among other brothers and they must confront their brothers when they are causing others to stumble too. Even when sinned against, they must show great mercy, absolve those who repent, and forgive as many times as their brothers seek forgiveness. They are the ones who are called by Christ to bind and loosen on earth, and so they are the ones who must hold the keys to Christ's kingdom faithfully.  

Matthew 18 is not a set of "laws" on how to deal with all kinds of conflict among all kinds of Christians. It was never supposed to be viewed that way. It was never supposed to illustrate what absolutely must be done procedurally in order for all perceived "offenses" among all Christian brethren to be resolved. Such over-arching generalizations are preposterous. In its original historical context, chapter 18 was a set of instructions for apostles regarding the way they handled Jewish opposition to Christ's message and Jewish converts who were stumbling (or causing others to stumble) in their faith. By extension, the "procedures" of Matthew 18 only apply to directly to Jesus' apostles and their apostles, but certainly not everybody in the Church. As a private discussion between Jesus and his apostles, those instructions pertained to their responsibility as judges of Christ's Church (which is why there is a repeated reference to "two or three witnesses" and another mention of "binding and loosening" exactly like Jesus' commission to Peter in 16:19; c.f. 18:18). 

Matthew 18 was a set of examples and warnings to the appointed rulers of Christ's Church, examples and warnings about misusing and abusing the keys He gave them. And the first keys He gave them were compassion, absolution, and forgiveness. The officers of Christ's Church would do well in using them first still, instead of shirking responsibility or throwing down the gauntlet on laymen and laywomen. 

1.  A stater is a silver coin worth four drachmas.