Fear is a poison that paralyzes us. It locks us in a prison of our own making. It holds us back from walking forward in love. Fear stifles our courage and whispers the lie that we don’t have what it takes to walk in obedience to the Lord.
We’ve all had times where we are plagued by self-doubt. We can sense God calling us into something that terrifies us, and our gut-level response is to shrink back in horror. We think, “What? Little old me? I can’t possibly do that.” Or maybe it’s more like, “Big fat sinner me? I’m not worthy of doing that.” Nevertheless, God wants us to realize His plan for our lives is bigger than we ever dared to dream.
Too often — I can see this in myself — we know God wants us to follow through on something, and the reason we haven’t yet is actually very simple: fear. Fear of failure. Fear of exposure. Fear of losing a friendship. Fear of looking foolish. Fear of falling on our face and never wanting to take a risk again.
Here’s what I think can happen sometimes. We tell ourselves we have good reasons not to walk forward in obedience. We rationalize. We experience the sudden onset of analysis paralysis, thinking, There must be some mistake. With all my faults, flaws, and foibles, I don’t see this working out. I’m notthe right person for the job. As if, somehow, the almighty, all-wise, and all-sufficient God of creation might be mistaken when He calls us to do something. All the stars and galaxies in the night sky follow their orbital path with precision, seamlessly bending to their Maker’s will. But, strangely, His own children won’t budge. We might even label it humility. But in reality, it’s doubting — or, perhaps, ignoring — God’s promises.
Get this picture in your mind. An 80-year-old Middle Eastern shepherd wanders through the craggy rocks of the Sinai Wilderness. After spending decades out in this wasteland, the blazing hot sun has left His face creased with deep wrinkles. He raises a rough brown hand to shade his eyes as he peers up at the towering mountain before him. He notices a strange orange glow emitting near the top. His brow furrows, and he scratches his wiry gray beard. What is that, a fire?
The desert wind howls as he nears the mysterious orange glow. Then he sees it: a desert brush fire is just taking off… or so he thinks. On further examination, he sees the flames are engulfing only one shrub, and, strangely, that shrub is not burning up. His body tremors as his eyes lock on the eerie spectacle.
What happened next? “When the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush” (Exodus 3:3). At this point, the old shepherd is just showing curiosity, but that’s all God needed. Sometimes we just need to do some investigating. We need to show an openness to what God might have for us. As we do that, there’s no telling how our lives might be transformed.
To the shepherd’s astonishment, a voice bellowed from the shrubbery: “Moses, Moses!” You know God is trying to get your attention when He calls your name twice. I imagine Moses’s voice cracking: “Here I am.” His next thought was probably: Wait… I’m talking to a bush! How long have I been out in this heat?
After telling Moses to remove his sandals in His presence, the deep, thunderous yet mellifluous voice continued, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” (v. 6). On hearing this, Moses shielded his eyes, as if the radiating spectacle might burn through his retinas. He was actually speaking to the everlasting God. The terror-stricken Moses didn’t know if he would survive this encounter.
Then God spoke in a surprisingly soothing way of assurance: “I have surely seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters. I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians” (vv. 7-8a). Did you catch what God said? “I know their sufferings.”
We desperately need to be reminded that the living God, our personal Creator, Yahweh, is intimately concerned with us. He knows your deepest fears. He knows everything about you. He put you together in your mother’s womb. He knows the struggles you face. But He doesn’t just know about these struggles; He acts as our Rearguard, our Fortress, and our Deliverer. He responds to our cries for help.
As if Moses wasn’t shocked enough, God then tells this quaking old man: “Oh, and by the way, Moses, I’m going to send you to be my right hand man. Yes, you heard me rightly. You, Moses, are going to be the man I use to deliver my people” (v. 10, my paraphrase).
Moses’s jaw hit the ground. “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?” (v. 11). Do you ever hear yourself ask that question: “Who am I? Who am I, Lord, that You would want to use little old me?” Moses had lived eight long decades by this point. At one time, he was a prince of Egypt, but his glory days were over. Now, Moses was little more than a washed up sheepherder who spent long hours under the desert sun.
Moses rattles off several excuses: “What if they don’t listen?” (4:1). “God, don’t You know I’m not all that eloquent?” (v. 10). He’s saying, “God, you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m past my prime. I’ve got so little to offer. Aren’t there thousands of stronger, fitter, and younger fellas that would better serve your purposes?”
Can you hear yourself asking the same kind of questions? God, I’m really not the natural-leader type. God, I’m not so good with my… um… words. God, I’ve got this great person in mind for you — anybody but me!
Remember Moses’s first response? “Here I am.” That’s the right response when God calls our name. God has a way of rerouting paths we thought were certain and remaking plans we thought were set in stone. We often feel off-kilter when God does this, but it’s the way He’s always worked with people like you and me.
God isn’t like the guy who grabs a megaphone and shouts at a crowd, “Okay, I need a couple volunteers! Any takers?”
No, God’s way is much more direct and forthright than that. He prefers to call us by name. We may try to plug our ears, put Him on mute, and drown Him out with white noise, but He keeps calling. God does not settle for the busy signal. Sometimes, He even has to grab us by the scruff of our neck, square us up, and, like a gentle father, say, “Hey, I’m talking to you.”
Our response should not be “Who am I?” but “Here I am.”[1] God is looking for a willing and submissive heart. He has something specific in mind for you and you alone. Do you know what it is yet? Are you still making excuses or turning up the white noise?
When you sense fear rising up, remember the promise that God gave Moses: “I will be with you” (3:12). That’s the only promise we really need. If you’re afraid of what is coming next, get your eyes up. Look at His sufficiency, not your list of excuses. So the next time God calls you to do something outside your comfort zone, turn your “Who am I?” into a “Here I am.” You won’t regret it.
[1] There are, of course, times when “Who am I?” can just be a humble response to God’s grace, as in 2 Samuel 7:18, when David is overwhelmed with God’s favor. My point is that we shouldn’t look to ourselves for our confidence, but to God.
There are numerous cases in the New Testament of two or more individuals sharing the same name. That can be confusing, because we have to decipher who is being talked about. On the other hand, this is also a mark of authenticity. Fiction authors don’t typically give two different characters the same name, because they don’t want their readers to get lost. However, an authentic historical account is most concerned with sharing the truth, so we should expect to find popular names showing up multiple times.
So…how do we know John the Apostle (aka John the Evangelist) wrote the fourth Gospel bearing his name?
I’m glad you asked. There are several reasons we know that John the Apostle authored this Gospel. And since many have tried to argue otherwise, I think it’s worth taking a little time to explain why we know John and not somebody else is the author. Whatever your worldview or beliefs may be, it’s important for you to see that the Christian faith rests on good, reliable evidence. And John’s Gospel is central to Christianity.
The Internal Evidence
First of all, there is the internal evidence. The author describes certain events as an eyewitness and even tells us that he was there.
For example, in chapter 19, the author describes how the soldiers did not break the legs of Jesus at the crucifixion, as they often would, to hasten the victim’s death. Well, Jesus was already dead. So instead, they pierced His side to ensure He really was dead.
John 19:34-35 says:
"Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. The man who saw it has given testimony, and his testimony is true. He knows that he tells the truth, and he testifies so that you also may believe."
John’s saying, “Look, I was there. I’m giving a true testimony about what I personally saw.” There are other times when John refers to himself as the “disciple whom Jesus loved” (13:23). When John uses that term, he’s not saying Jesus only loved him. As in, “I’m the guy Jesus really cared about.” Instead, he’s talking about his own personal experience. At the core of his being, he knew Jesus loved him. And notice, when John uses that term, he focuses on who Jesus is rather than himself.
Since the author describes himself as being there at intimate times when only the Apostles were present, and since the other Gospels mention that John was there, it only makes sense that John is the author (see John 13:21-26; 20:1-8; 21:4-7, 18-24).
The Manuscript Evidence
Outside of the internal evidence that John wrote this Gospel, there’s also the fact that every manuscript for the fourth Gospel we have found always – without exception – is attributed to John. In other words, there is always a title given, like “The Gospel According to John,” or something very close to that. In fact, no extant manuscripts for any of the Gospels are anonymous. This is a truly remarkable thing that often goes overlooked.
Skeptics like the well-known author, Bart Ehrman, have tried to discredit the Gospels. And skeptics have especially attacked John’s Gospel, because John makes the most explicit claims about Christ’s deity. But one of the frequent charges that guys like Ehrman have made is that we have no clue who really wrote the four Gospels. In fact, according to Ehrman, not only were the Gospels “written anonymously,” but also the authors were most definitely not eyewitnesses of the events they record.[1]
I’m going to be blunt here. Those claims are just absurd. I know that sounds a bit harsh, but there’s really no nice way to say it. The idea that the Gospels are all anonymous is simply absurd. Here’s why: Every single manuscript we have is respectively attributed to the traditional authors of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.
Look at what historian Brant Pitre had to say about this: “The first and perhaps biggest problem for the theory of the anonymous Gospels is this: no anonymous copies of Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John have ever been found. They do not exist. As far as we know, they never have.”[2] This just proves your mom was right when she told you that you can’t trust everything you read!
So, how can Ehrman make such bold claims about the Gospels being written anonymously? How can he be so sure they weren’t written by the apostolic eyewitnesses? He responds that “the followers of Jesus, as we learn from the New Testament itself, were uneducated lower-class Aramaic-speaking Jews from Palestine. These books are not written by people like that.”[3]
But again, we have to ask how Ehrman can be so sure. True, John was a commercial fisherman by trade, but that doesn’t rule out his ability to read and write well. In fact, his father, Zebedee, was likely the business owner (Matthew 4:21-22) and would want his sons to have the necessary literary skills for commerce — including reading and writing Greek, the lingua franca of the Roman Empire.[4] Given that the fourth Gospel is always attributed to John the Apostle, Ehrman’s bald assumption that John was too ignorant to write it is unjustified, highly speculative, and, I must add, a bit unfair to dear old John .
According to tradition, John wrote this Gospel as an elderly man and would have had plenty of time to hone his skills as a literary genius. Besides, after seeing the risen Jesus in the flesh, he had all the motivation he needed to learn how to communicate the gospel well.
Consider that the author of the fourth Gospel also wrote these words:
"That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ." (1 John 1:1-3)
Ehrman has to claim that the author who wrote that is lying through his teeth. But if the manuscript records we do have confirm that John wrote this as the eyewitness he passionately claims to be, why assume he’s not telling the truth?
Reza Aslan’s book Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth has become very popular. In it, Aslan tries to paint Jesus as a failed Jewish revolutionary who ended up getting crucified for trying to lead a violent rebellion against Rome. Much like Ehrman, Aslan asserts that “with the possible exception of the gospel of Luke, none of the gospels we have were written by the person after whom they were named.”[5] But on what basis does Aslan make this claim?
According to Aslan, the Jesus of the Gospels is too exalted to be historical. But his reasoning is circular. It’s as though his argument is: “Since we know Christians in the second century worshiped Jesus of Nazareth as God, the Gospels must be a reflection of their beliefs.” But why make that assumption, especially when the early Christians point to these very Gospels as the basis for their belief that Jesus is God?[6]
If every manuscript of John that we have is attributed to John, why would we ignore this? Aslan doesn’t bother to tell the reader that there are no anonymous Gospel manuscripts. None! Zippo. Zero. Zilch. Instead, he just makes a baseless claim that John didn’t write the fourth Gospel without bothering to prove it.
It is hard to avoid the unflattering conclusion that Aslan’s only reason for making this assumption is that he wants to reconstruct a Jesus after his own imagination. The careful reader ought to be immediately suspicious of any conclusions by an author who makes such a blatantly false statement in the introduction of a book allegedly about the real Jesus of Nazareth.
Again, New Testament scholar Michael Bird affirms: “There is an absolute uniformity in the authors attributed to the four Gospels. Matthew is always called ‘Matthew,’ and Luke is always called ‘Luke,’ and so forth.”[7]
The Testimony of the Early Church
“That’s nice for modern day scholars,” you might say, “But what about the early church? What did they believe about the authorship of the fourth Gospel?” Here’s the incredible thing: Despite being in various regions around the Mediterranean Sea, the early church fathers unanimously agreed that John the Apostle set down his eyewitness account alongside the other three Gospels.
Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 130-202 AD) wrote, “Then [after the publication of the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke] John, the disciple of the Lord, who had even rested on his breast, himself also gave forth the Gospel, while he was living at Ephesus in Asia.”[8]
Clement of Alexandria (c. 150-215 AD) likewise confirms that John authored the fourth Gospel: “Of all those who had been with the Lord only Matthew and John left us their recollections, and tradition says that they took to writing perforce…. John, it is said, used all the time a message which was not written down, and at last took to writing for the following cause. The three gospels which had been written down before were distributed to all including himself; it is said he welcomed them and testified to their truth but said that there was only lacking to the narrative the account of what was done by Christ at first and at the beginning of the preaching…. They say accordingly that John was asked to relate in his own gospel the period passed over in silence by the former evangelists.”[9]
In the Muratorian Canon (originally written in the second century), we read: “The fourth of the Gospels is that of John, [one] of the disciples.”[10]
In response to non-Christians who were claiming otherwise, Tertullian of Carthage (155-220 AD) took his stand with the rest of the early church: “We lay it down as our first position, that the evangelical Testament has apostles for its authors…. Of the apostles, therefore, John and Matthew first instill faith into us; whilst of apostolic men, Luke and Mark renew it afterwards.”[11]
I wanted you to see this evidence, because the reality is that many skeptics misrepresent what we know about the authorship of the Gospels. My assertion is that these skeptics have an agenda to discredit the Gospels, and if they can cast doubt on the original authorship, then they have already reached their goal. They reject the authenticity of the Gospels because they reject the authority of the Jesus found therein. Nevertheless, followers of Jesus and curious seekers have no reason to doubt the authenticity of the four Gospels, and the authorship traditionally ascribed to each. The uniform testimony of the early church is that John the son of Zebedee, the Apostle and close associate of Jesus, wrote the fourth Gospel. So, my friend, I encourage you to take up and read.
[1] Bart D. Ehrman, How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2014), 90.
[2] Brant Pitre, The Case for Jesus (New York: Random House, 2016), 26.
[4] Matthew, as a tax collector, would have certainly known how to write and read Greek, something Ehrman seems to totally ignore.
[5] Reza Aslan, Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth (New York: Random House, 2014), xxvi.
[6] For example, the second-century church father Irenaeus wrote, “Therefore neither would the Lord, nor the Holy Spirit, nor the apostles, have ever named as God, definitely and absolutely, him who was not God, unless he were truly God.” Irenaeus, Against Heresies, Book 3, Chapter 6, Section 1. For additional examples, see Polycarp, Letter to the Philippians, 12:3 and Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, chapters 56, 63 and 128.
[7] Michael F. Bird, The Gospel of the Lord: How the Early Church Wrote the Story of Jesus (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2014), 259.
[8] Cited in Eusebius, Church History, 5.8; compare Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 3.1.1.
I remember like it was yesterday the drive back from the coast with two of my long-time buddies, Andy and Daniel. We were seniors in high school, and we had just completed our annual trip to Lincoln City, Oregon. As we rounded the bend of the highway, the Toyota Camry I was driving suddenly lurched and sputtered. Very quickly, I realized the gas pedal was no longer responding and we rolled to an undignified stop on the highway’s shoulder.
Gulp! I told the guys I didn’t know what went wrong, but very quickly the truth began to dawn on me. The fact is, I had been putting off an oil change for several weeks now. And, as it turns out, car engines really do need oil to run well. In fact, as any mechanic will tell you, it’s a simple matter of physics: without lubrication, the metal parts of your engine are bound to overheat. And when they overheat, they begin to warp and wear down.
Because of my automotive negligence, not only did I have a hearty portion of embarrassment to swallow, but I also needed to come up with the cash for a new car.
Simply put, some things are bound to self-destruct if you don’t operate them according to their intended use. If you doubt this, just try using your smartphone as a wheel chock. This is not just true of the physical realm but the spiritual realm, too. God designed your soul for a relationship with Him. Just as cars cannot run without gasoline, human beings are dependent on the life that comes from God.
When we try to do life apart from God, we are bound to self-destruct. And yet, according to the Bible, many people don’t live as if this were true.
In Galatians 6:7-8, the Apostle Paul warns, “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.”
Paul says, “Don’t be fooled about this,” because, honestly, a lot of us are. In fact, on our own, we all tend to fall for this lie. What lie? That God can be mocked without repercussions. Every single one of us has, at one time or another, believed that we can actually outsmart God. Don’t believe me?
Every time we knowingly disobey God, we are essentially saying to God, “I would make a better god than you.” The essence of sin is making a bid for the throne of the universe. To disregard God’s law is to choose self-sovereignty rather than live under His perfect rule.
Here’s the problem: Going down this road of self-rule never ends well. There is an unalterable law of reality that you will reap what you sow. And God created us to live under His rule, not our own. Paul says, “Don’t be deceived about this one, guys.” You can be wrong about the weather, who will win American Idol, or most of the questions on Jeopardy! But don’t be wrong about this.
One of the most popular falsehoods of our time is this idea that I can do whatever I want without ever being held accountable for my actions. But Scripture everywhere denies this.
“God will repay each person according to what they have done. To those who by persistence in doing good seek glory, honor, and immortality, He will give eternal life. But for those who are self-seeking and who reject the truth and follow evil, there will be wrath and anger.” (Romans 2:6-8, NIV).
God is immeasurably merciful and patient, but this remains God’s universe. Not ours.
“In the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now He commands all people everywhere to repent. For He has set a day when He will judge the world with justice by the man He has appointed. He has given proof of this to everyone by raising Him from the dead.” (Acts 17:30-31, NIV).
Notice: God will judge the world, but He will do so with perfect “justice.” No one will be able to say on that day, “But I didn’t know” or “This isn’t fair.” We will all know God to be the perfectly just Judge that He is.
Let this truth be emblazoned across your heart: God cannot be mocked. If you think you can fool God, you’re only fooling yourself.
The mighty Goliath tried to test this truth when he taunted the armies of the living God (1 Samuel 17). How did that work out for him? He’s forever remembered for being slain by a young shepherd boy without any real military training. Herod encouraged people to worship him as a god. How did he fare? “Immediately, because Herod did not give praise to God, an angel of the Lord struck him down, and he was eaten by worms and died” (Acts 12:23). Yikes! I don’t care who you are, that’s got to be one of the worst ways to go! Throughout Scripture, this same truth is repeated: You and I will reap what we sow.
What does it mean to “sow to please your flesh” (v. 8)?
John Stott writes: “Every time we allow our mind to harbor a grudge, nurse a grievance, entertain an impure fantasy, or wallow in self-pity, we are sowing to the flesh. Every time we linger in bad company whose insidious influence we know we cannot resist, every time we lie in bed when we ought to be up and praying, every time we read pornographic literature, every time we take a risk which strains our self-control, we are sowing, sowing, sowing to the flesh. Some Christians sow to the flesh every day and wonder why they do not reap holiness. Holiness is a harvest; whether we reap it or not depends almost entirely on what and where we sow.”[1]
We may think all our sowing to the flesh won’t have consequences. We may rationalize and downplay the seriousness of the secret sins we harbor. Eventually, however, what we have sown will come to full bloom. If you take the elephant across the old wooden footbridge too many times, eventually it will collapse.
Thankfully, the Bible doesn’t just leave us with this hard truth. If it did, karma, not the gospel, would be the final rule of the universe. We would forever see God in heaven, frowning down on us with arms crossed, saying, “Well, you had it coming.”
But the gospel of Jesus Christ points us the way to find a new life and a new beginning. We don’t need to stay locked up by the shame of our past. The point of this warning about mocking God is to lead us to the foot of the cross at Calvary, where God’s love poured out for rebels like you and me. When Christ shed His blood on the cross, He was in fact reaping what we have sown. This was only possible because of grace. He died in our place and suffered the consequences we justly deserved.
Hear this promise: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:8). To confess means to get honest before God, humbly prepared to live in a new direction.
Because of Christ’s cross, God does not rule as some kind of karmic dictator. Instead, He reigns in grace, inviting everyone who has arrogantly tried to take His throne to kneel humbly before His throne (Hebrews 4:16).
[1] John R. W. Stott, The Message of Galatians: Only One Way, The Bible Speaks Today (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1968), 170.
“That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24)
Perhaps you’ve heard the oft-quoted line that “men are from Mars, and women are from Venus.” This statement highlights the noteworthy differences between men and women.
For many couples, these differences truly surface after the wedding bells ring. The story is told of a boy who asked his father, “Dad, what’s the difference between love and marriage?” The father replied, “Love is blind, but marriage is a real eye-opener!”
Many a young couple could relate to this sentiment. In the days anticipating their wedding, the bride and groom both imagined the blissful life they are about to begin together. Of course, no one told them that their idealistic pictures are likely very different from one another. Perhaps, no one told them how much of marriage involves sacrifice. Perhaps, no one told them how many surprises there would be.
She didn’t know how much he liked working long hours on his car. He didn’t know how much she liked discussing paint colors. One woman was overheard at a garden-club meeting saying, “I never knew what compost was until I met my husband.”
I wonder how her husband interpreted that remark.
Whitney and I are in our seventh year of marriage, and although we know each other so well, I expect we will continue learning new things about one another for the rest of our lives. I think most married couples would agree. Just when you think you’ve solved the puzzle that is your spouse, you discover there’s a lot more pieces you didn’t even know about.
And yet, despite the incredible differences between men and women, marriage really is a beautiful thing.
How do I know? Because it was God’s idea. If You’re the infinite, all-wise, sovereign Creator of the universe, one thing a puny-brained human can’t legitimately accuse You of is a bad idea. Now, one thing we could legitimately say to Him is “God, this is a mystery.” In fact, the apostle Paul used that precise word. Speaking of marriage, he said, “This mystery is profound” (Ephesians 5:32).
So, as we navigate the wonderfully mysterious world of marriage, what wisdom can we glean from Scripture? Here, it is worth looking at the very first marriage. After all, God used Adam and Eve’s nuptials as something of a blueprint for how marriage is supposed to work.
Right after creating the man out of the dust of the earth and breathing life into His nostrils, God made a vast and paradisiacal garden in which he could dwell. Then we read this:
“The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. And the Lord God commanded the man, ‘You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die’” (Genesis 2:15-17).
God tells him to take his fill of all he wants from the garden. He can sink his teeth into any of the delicious, tantalizing fruits he finds — except, of course, for that one that’ll kill him. Best to leave that one alone.
But aside from this curious prohibition, notice what the text says about man’s job. He has a calling to “work” and “take care of” the lush garden. In other words, God placed Adam there to cultivate the garden. A lot could be said about how this relates to humanity’s purpose in ruling over creation as God’s image-bearing vice-regents — spoken about in the chapter before this (see Genesis 1:26-28). But for now, it’s important to see that God planned for the man to work before sin ever entered the world.
Now, notice what God says next: “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper fit for him” (Genesis 2:18). In a perfectly good world created by a perfectly good God, this “not good” is a bit jarring. The man has God. He has all the furry animals. He has a beautiful and sumptuous garden full of delicious fruits. Nevertheless, something is “not good.” Adam is one solitary dude. He needs a companion. He needs another human with whom he can relate and do life.
So what did God do? He created woman to be “a helper fit for him.” Don’t be put off by the language of “helper.” It’s actually a term of great honor. In fact, the Bible even calls God “helper” many times (see Psalm 54:4; 118:7). The big takeaway is this: Adam needs help. He cannot do the garden work God called him to all on his own.
Far too many men today are passive about the responsibilities God has given them. They don’t see themselves as having a purpose. They just kind of drift along without any real and clear direction. That’s a tragic thing. God calls us to take initiative in working hard for the good of others. He calls us to be diligent and passionate about improving the world around us.
At the same time, God did not intend for man to go it alone. Although the concept of rugged individualism appeals to many men, it really doesn’t fit with how God wired us. Genesis 2:18 forever stands as a witness to the fact that human beings were made for relationship with one another. And chief among those human relationships is marriage. In marriage, intimacy between two souls reaches its zenith.
But note something else. God said, “I will make a helper fit for him.” That is, God fashioned the woman with the man in mind. In the words of Goldilocks, the man and woman are “just right” for each other. God specially designed the man and the woman foreach other. What makes marriage so powerful is that it taps into God’s genius for how two of his image bearers bond together for life.
In the words of Jesus, “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate” (Matthew 19:6). To a world that has embraced no-fault divorce, the Son of God says, “Don’t try to split what God has spliced.” Marriage is not like an old watch that you can discard when it stops working for us. It is more like a precious jewel that you would never even dangle over the edge of a dock. Granted, everyone comes to this text with their unique set of challenges and circumstances. Nevertheless, it remains true that marriage is by nature a binding covenant before God. He never said marriage wouldn’t take some work. He never said it would always be a cakewalk. He did say it was designed for permanence.
Tim Keller wisely said, “Wedding vows are not a declaration of present love but a mutually binding promise of future love.”[1]
When it was clear that none of Adam’s furry friends quite fit the bill, God performed the first surgery to craft the first female.
“So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.” (Genesis 2:21-22)
Why did God form the woman from one of the man’s ribs? Consider this for a moment. God could have fashioned the woman any way He saw fit. He didn’t take a portion of the man’s brain (think of the endless jokes there would have been!). He didn’t take a portion of his feet (think of the trouble this could have led to). She came from his rib — from his side. Doesn’t God’s choice to use the man’s rib indicate that the woman was intended to be neither his superior nor his inferior, but instead, his equal? Men and women are distinct, but equal in their intrinsic dignity. Both are made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27).
But they are also made of the same “stuff,” the same flesh. God took from Adam’s body so that Eve’s DNA was inevitably connected to his. They are biologically related. As it turns out, men and women are not from Mars and Venus respectively. But more than merely creating a genetic link between the two, God did it this way so that they could see from the very beginning that He created them for a one-flesh union that they alone can share.
Upon first laying eyes on the feminine beauty before him, Adam impulsively broke into song.
“This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman,’ for she was taken out of man.” (Genesis 2:23)
Okay, so maybe the lyrics aren’t your idea of romantic. Nevertheless, it set a pattern, and love songs like Pat Benatar’s “We Belong” and Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” have been a hit ever since.
Then God Himself summarizes, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame” (vv. 24-25). The “therefore” seems to be saying, “The man and woman can unite as one flesh, because woman is made from man’s flesh.” In other words, the man and woman really were made for each other. Nothing and no one should ever come between the husband and his wife, and the union they share.
This one-flesh union of marriage goes beyond sexual intimacy. It is a whole-life covenant that unites the man and woman as a permanent and unique couple who live together, eat together, sleep together, and go through all of life together. To men and women alike, marriage is a mystery. However, in Ephesians 5, Paul goes on to say it is a mystery pointing to the union of Christ and His church. If we needed one more reason to treat marriage as a weighty thing, here it is. It is a powerful, flesh-and-blood picture of the gospel. Thus, we ought to treasure marriage for the incredible gift that it is.
“Be careful not to forget the covenant of the Lord your God that he made with you; do not make for yourselves an idol in the form of anything the Lord your God has forbidden. For the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.” (Deuteronomy 4:23-24)
Oprah Winfrey tells the story of a time when she first began to question the teaching of Scripture. She was sitting in a church, hearing the preacher talk about God’s attributes, such as His omnipotence and omnipresence. She continues,
“Then he said, ‘The Lord thy God is a jealous God.’ I was caught up in the rapture of that moment until he said ‘jealous,’ and something struck me. I was like 27 or 28 and I’m thinking, ‘God is all. God is omnipresent. And God is also jealous?’ God is jealous of me? And something about that didn’t feel right in my spirit because I believe that God is love, and that God is in all things… And that is where the search for something more than doctrine started to stir within me.”
The passage the preacher quoted is indeed in the Bible (Deuteronomy 5:9). In fact, there are many references to God’s jealousy in Scripture. “You shall worship no other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God” (Exodus 34:14). God even grows angry when we spurn Him and go after worthless pursuits. “For the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God” (Deuteronomy 4:24).
On the one hand, I want to sympathize with Oprah. Our God? Jealous? Never! That’s because in our current cultural climate, “jealousy” usually carries a negative connotation. In many cases, it describes someone who has an unwarranted suspicion of anything and anyone that could threaten a cherished relationship. At the same time, we need to consider that this is the supreme God we are talking about. However we construe this word “jealousy” as it relates to God, we need to remember that He is the all-sufficient God who doesn’t need anything from us. After all, He is the Maker of everything. “If I were hungry I would not tell you, for the world is mine, and all that is in it” (Psalm 50:12).
Our tendency is to say, “My God is not like that… He’s like this…” The problem is that whenever we do that before carefully consulting Scripture, we are actually creating a god in our own image. Rather than listening to what God says of Himself, we place our own opinions above the authority of the Bible. Instead, we need to humbly come to God’s Word, expecting there to be many cases where our own thoughts and opinions will be challenged. Rather than assert that something can’t be true simply because it doesn’t sit right with us, we need to consider why God is described as “jealous.”
In order to understand what is meant by passages like these that speak of God’s jealousy, we have to first see that there are in fact both good and bad kinds of jealousy. For example, there is a petty jealousy a self-centered young man may feel when a slightly older man offers to carry a heavy suitcase for his girlfriend. The older man’s offer may be a simple, courteous response to seeing the young woman struggling with the heavy load. In this case, the young man is not thinking of his girlfriend’s needs. He is threatened by the courteous gentleman because he cares more about his status as the girl’s boyfriend than the girl herself.
This young man is persistently suspicious and insecure. He doesn’t want any other man to even show common courtesy to his girlfriend. His jealousy is like the unhealthy possessiveness of a terrier that growls and snaps at anyone coming near his bone, despite the fact that no one actually wants to steal the bone. Rather than protecting her, his unhealthy jealousy actually smothers the young girl. From the outsider’s perspective, it’s plain to see that the young man is consumed with self-love, rather than genuine love for the girl.
Now, what is an example of a good kind of jealousy? Think of a husband and wife at an office party. The husband notices that a good-looking young man, who is constantly bragging about his sexual exploits, has approached his wife. The young man is clearly hitting on his wife and even tenderly takes hold of her hand. Now, ask yourself, in this situation, is it wrong for the husband to feel a kind of jealousy? After all, he is passionately devoted to his wife, wanting nothing to come between them. His wife might even be quite pleased to see her husband tell off such a womanizer for trying to threaten their marriage.
If you’re still struggling with whether jealousy can ever be a good thing, imagine now that this same husband sees the young man make advances on his wife, then shrugs and passively walks away. What would you conclude? Clearly, such a husband doesn’t really love his wife!
When you think of God being jealous, think of a devoted husband who is passionately in love with his wife. God wants nothing to come between you and Him. As our Creator, He alone has the right to be the Lord of our lives. God is jealous for our affection, not because He is needy or insecure, but because He is passionate about our flourishing, which comes from being in a right relationship with Him.
False gods — such as fame, power, lust, or money — are persistently trying to steal our hearts away. Not only do these counterfeit gods threaten our relationship with the one true God, they only hurt us in the long run. In such cases, God indeed grows angry, but the heat of His anger displays the vibrancy of His love for us. Whenever we give something else our ultimate devotion, we are falling prey to idolatry. God made us for Himself, so nothing else will truly satisfy our longings like He will. “Know that the LORD is God. It is He who made us, and we are His; we are His people, the sheep of His pasture” (Psalm 100:3). As the all-glorious, all-satisfying God, He and He alone has every right to command our allegiance to Him.
I would want Oprah to understand that, yes, God is a “jealous God” (Exodus 20:5), but He’s jealous for us in all the right ways. We ought to thank God that He is the kind of God who is incredibly passionate about His relationship with us.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
Have you ever found yourself venting to God? I know I have. For some, it’s like a knee-jerk reaction: “Why God?” For others, it can take the form of a long, tear-filled prayer. Although I typically think of myself as a positive person, I can feel discouraged for a number of reasons. I can vent to God when those I have been praying for haven’t been healed or when something I’ve eagerly anticipated doesn’t happen as expected.
Perhaps you know that sinking feeling I’m talking about. We’ve all had those days where everything seems to go sideways. I remember one day last year where a series of unfortunate events piled up on one day. It started with me opening up an unexpected bill in the morning. On the way to work, I spilled coffee on my shirt. Later, a client got angry with me for a mistake I made. While at work, my wife Whitney called to say that our son Weston’s fever was spiking. After grabbing medicine, I had to move my car, but then discovered a parking ticket on my windshield. On top of all that, when I got home I stubbed my toe so badly it turned a nasty shade of purple. Needless to say, I earned a few gray hairs that day.
To borrow the title of a famous children’s book, it was just a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.” But, of course, in retrospect, it wasn’t really that terrible. I’m sure there were a lot of good things that happened to me that day, too, but I let the not-so-good things overshadow them. It’s crazy how quickly a day of sunshine can flip into a day of downpours, isn’t it?
Just flipping on the news for five minutes can dishearten us. Pointless violence, disease, and hatred run rampant across our world every day. Evil often appears to be winning the day. However … that’s not the whole story. When the tide of discouragement rolls in, what we most need is a fresh word from the “God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
How Long, O Lord?
A man named Habakkuk knew what discouragement felt like. Habakkuk was a prophet of God roughly 2,600 years ago. He looked around at the horrendous evil and injustice in his culture with great dismay. “Why aren’t you doing anything, God?” Habakkuk wailed. “Why don’t you care about what’s happening down here?” Maybe you can relate to Habakkuk. He begins his book in the Bible by trotting out a list of complaints.
“How long, O Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted.” (Habakkuk 1:2-4)
The same objections ring down through the centuries to today. “How long, O Lord?” Do those words ever find a place on your lips or in your mind? For many of us, those words can surface instinctively. It can happen when your friend with cancer doesn’t heal. It can happen when you get the rejection letter. It can happen when a man you looked up to has a moral failure.
Why does God seem so absent during these dark times? Many have called this dilemma “the problem of evil” or “the problem of pain.” The more we squarely face the reality of evil, the more we need a solid hope to hang on to before the wave of despair sweeps us away.
Here’s the incredible thing: God responded to Habakkuk’s complaint with a word of hope. God didn’t chastise Habakkuk for voicing his discouragement. Instead, God agreed with Habakkuk that the injustice was intolerable. In fact, God hates injustice! Here’s how God responded:
“Look at the nations and watch — and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told” (Habakkuk 1:5). The Lord goes on to say that He is about to use the Babylonians to bring swift judgment on the treacherous people of Judah.
This is essentially the same response He gives to us today. If you are disheartened by the violence taking place in the world today — take heart! Aslan is on the move. God hasn’t abandoned us. He is still among His people. “If you passionately long to see justice restored,” God says, “know that I care about it even more.”
Interestingly, Habakkuk is still upset. After all, God plans to use an even more wicked nation — Babylon — to accomplish His good judgment of Judah. “Aren’t You the eternally holy God?” Habakkuk asks. “So how can You have anything do with wicked Babylon” (see 1:12-2:1).
Justice Will Surely Come
Remarkably, this turns out to be even more reason for Habakkuk to take heart. Why? Because God’s use of evil Babylon to accomplish His judgment demonstrates God’s sovereign power over evil. This is good news, God says, because evil is not in fact the ultimate power in the universe, even though it may seem that way at times. Babylon is like a tool in His hand. Not only that, but Babylon will have to answer for her crimes, too.
We, like Habakkuk, may feel like God is moving too slowly. But God replies, “If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay” (2:3).
Then God reminds Habakkuk of something else. He doesn’t just deal with evil by using the sledgehammer of justice. He also uses the healing balm of grace. That’s good news for us who are discouraged not only by the evil “out there” in the world, but also by the evil residing in our own hearts.
In the wise words of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, “If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”[1]
The good news is that through the cross and resurrection of Jesus, God found a way to deal with that evil without destroying us. The judgment for our sin landed, not on us, but on our King. “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24). Through trusting in that sacrifice, we are “healed.” Our moral crimes and misdemeanors are expunged from our record and totally removed from us. God tells Habakkuk justice is surely coming, “but the righteous shall live by his faith” (Habakkuk 2:4). Through faith in Jesus, God renders us righteous and clean — all by sheer grace.
Whether by justice or by grace, God will deal with every trace of evil that exists in the world today. Keeping this truth close to our hearts will give us hope-filled confidence to face another day.
[1] Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago (New York: Collins, 1974), 17.
C. S. Lewis was born 121 years ago this Friday, November 29, 2019. I am one of many who can say that his writings have profoundly affected my life — even from childhood. I can still vividly recall my mom reading his classic series, The Chronicles of Narnia, to my brother and me as a child.Later in life, books like Mere Christianity and essays like The Weight of Glory left an indelible mark on my life. I have read and heard countless testimonies of men and women who note that his writings were instrumental in leading them to consider seriously the claims of Christ. In light of all that this Irish man has contributed to the cause of Christ and the world of literature in general, I thought it would be fitting to write a tribute in his honor.
The Making of an Imagination
First,
let me offer a brief biography of the man. Clive Staples Lewis was born in Belfast,
Northern Ireland, in 1898. Lewis’s mother died when he was only ten years old,
and the experience left a deep impression on him. As a result, the young Lewis
felt a deep sense of longing for what could have been. Lewis would later
describe this deep sense of longing for a better world simply as joy.
In
1917, Lewis enlisted in the British Army and was commissioned as an officer
during World War I. Although his war experiences dramatically shaped him as a
man, he deliberately strove to forget them. In fact, he devotes very little
space to his time in the Great War in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy. But with all the horrors and life-changing trauma
that war inevitably brings, why recount so little of the experience? Lewis
biographer Alister McGrath answers, “The simplest explanation is also the most
plausible: Lewis could not bear to remember the trauma of his wartime
experiences, whose irrationality called into question whether there was any
meaning in the universe at large or in Lewis’s personal existence in
particular.”[1]
This is all the more fascinating when one considers that Lewis was no pacifist.
Later in life, Lewis defended his own brand of just war theory, concluding that
in certain unfortunate circumstances, war is inevitable but always grievous.[2]
After the war, Lewis finished his schooling at Oxford, and eventually became an Oxford don. It is worth noting that while Lewis had a very tense relationship with his father, it was also likely his father’s death that spurred him out of his youthful atheism to reflect on spiritual realities.[3] While at Oxford, Lewis began his well-known friendship with J. R. R. Tolkien, the author of The Lord of the Rings.[4] In fact, the two mutually benefited from one another in incredible ways. When Tolkien grew discouraged about ever finishing his great fantasy epic, Lewis encouraged him to see it through, something for which I am immeasurably grateful. Furthermore, it was Tolkien who proved instrumental in Lewis’s conversion to Christ.[5]
Lewis
saw hints of the Christian story in nearly all the old pagan myths from various
cultures throughout history. This initially bothered him — was Christianity just
borrowing the grand themes of sacrifice and redemption from the pagans?
However, Tolkien helped him to see that these other myths merely accentuated
the innate longings we all have that Christ alone fulfills. Therefore,
Christianity is what Lewis called the “true myth” because it alone truly
happened in our space-time world and can satisfy the heart’s deepest longings.[6]
McGrath
calls Lewis an “eccentric genius”[7]
because he was an unusual blend of a clear-thinking, rational philosopher and
an imaginative lover of fables and ancient myths. Although he was a first-rank
Oxford scholar and professor, he took some flak from many of his peers for his
willingness to write popular works of fiction and Christian apologetics.[8]
Lewis
is perhaps best known for his classic The
Chronicles of Narnia, a fantasy series aimed at children and filled with
Christian themes. He wrote many other fictional works, such as The Screwtape Letters and The Great Divorce. However, the bulk of
Lewis’s published writings can be classified as works of theology, ethics, and
Christian apologetics. His best known apologetic work, Mere Christianity, is written with a skeptical British audience in
mind. In the first part of the short book, Lewis makes a case for Christianity,
and in the second part he explains what he believes are the chief issues
related to living a faithful Christian life.
Late
in life, Lewis met Joy Davidman, a woman who so enchanted him that he ended up
marrying her with the purpose of conferring her British citizenship in order
for her to avoid deportation.[9] To
Lewis’s great dismay, after only being married for about four years, their
blossoming romance came to an end. Joy died as a victim of cancer, the same
disease that had claimed Lewis’s mother so many years before. In November 1963,
Lewis himself was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure and ended up dying in
his own home, a week before his 65th birthday.[10]
A Man for All Ages
Part
of what makes Lewis still popular in evangelical circles today is his ability
to convincingly demonstrate how Christianity makes sense of our world. “I
believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen, not only because I
see it, but because by it I see everything else.”[11] His
arguments powerfully show how Christianity rings true when we are willing to
carefully examine the claims. Thus, his writings have proven instrumental in
bringing many skeptics to faith over the last half century.
Throughout
his writings, Lewis expresses his deep suspicion of the new and flashy brands
of theology. Ideas that try to be trendy often overshadow that which is tried
and true. “Novelty, simply as such, can have only an entertainment value.”[12] Just
because something entertains, suggests Lewis, does not mean it is either
helpful or true. That is a good word for us to heed in our entertainment-driven
culture.
For
Lewis, Christianity is not merely a matter of private devotion but a public
issue, because it encompasses our entire outlook on life. Lewis came to see
that atheism simply could not account for our world. Universal moral principles
that we all share make little sense if we are merely the product of our genes.
In Mere Christianity, Lewis argues
that we are all aware of a natural law of human behavior, a sense of justice
that we cannot ignore.[13] Since
we all recognize this inner law, there must be an authority higher than
humankind to whom we all are accountable. Only God could be the great Author of
the moral law we all find within ourselves.
The
“true myth” of Christianity is about the great Author entering into His world
in order to work out our redemption and restoration. Lewis likens the
incarnation of the Son of God to Shakespeare writing himself into one of his
plays. “Shakespeare could, in principle, make himself appear as Author within
the play, and write a dialogue between Hamlet and himself. The ‘Shakespeare’
within the play would of course be at once Shakespeare and one of Shakespeare’s
creatures. It would bear some analogy to Incarnation.”[14] In
fact, Lewis seemed to do just this when you consider to whom the professor (Digory
Kirke) bears a striking resemblance in The
Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
In his essay Is Theology Poetry?, Lewis explains his view that theology must by nature include metaphor since we are speaking about a God that we can’t see, taste, or smell.[15] What theologians are trying to do, he explains, is draw a map charting a vast land that has not been exhaustively explored. And theology — this is important — is always meant to lead us to God, never to replace God. “Doctrines are not God: they are only a kind of map.”[16] This is a powerful reminder for every student of theology. Ultimately, our studies should lead us to worship and love our Lord and Savior — and they certainly can help in that endeavor. However, we must also be content in what God has revealed to us and not go beyond what Scripture has told us about Him. Even if we were granted 1,000 years to study theology, we’d only be scratching the surface of God’s infinite depths. “Oh, the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” (Romans 11:33).
At
one point in his Letters to Malcolm,
Lewis scolds his fictional friend Malcolm for criticizing a woman named Rose
Macaulay for reciting prayers written by others rather than composing her own. Apparently,
such a practice lacked personal devotion to God in the eyes of Malcolm. Lewis
defends Miss Macaulay and playfully calls Malcolm “a bigot”. He then movingly
points out that we should not expect every Christian to worship in the same
way. “If grace perfects nature it must expand all our natures into the full
richness of the diversity which God intended when He made them, and heaven will
display more variety than hell.”[17]
Prayer, Lewis recognizes, is often very difficult for the believer. This is an
indication that we are not yet perfect. “If we were perfected, prayer would not
be a duty, it would be delight. Some day, please God, it will be. The same is
true of many other behaviours which now appear as duties. If I loved my
neighbor as myself, most of the actions which are now my moral duty would flow
out of me as spontaneously as song from a lark or fragrance from a flower.”[18]
According to Lewis, theology helps us recognize just how great and generous God
is, and prayer leads us to respond accordingly.
Lewis
recognizes that Christianity offers an understanding of life beyond the grave
that is shot through with infinitely more hope than all its competitors.
Believers are promised rewards — an “eternal weight of glory” (2 Corinthians
4:17) — far beyond compare with whatever small joys we may find in this life.[19]
In looking forward to our ultimate reconciliation with God, Lewis seems nearly incapable
of containing his joy. “To please God … to be a real ingredient in the divine
happiness … to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an
artist delights in his work or a son — it seems impossible, a weight or burden
of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.”[20]
Scripture
speaks of a God of immeasurable grace who has chosen rebel sinners, sacrificed
His only Son for their redemption, secured them with the seal of His Holy
Spirit, and bestowed on them His fatherly love. As redeemed and adopted sons
and daughters, our Father sings over us in delight — despite the fact that we
have not earned this blessing (see Psalm 149:4; Zephaniah 3:17). It’s all by
grace! One day we will see this clearly when we see God as He truly is. “No
longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb
will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and
his name will be on their foreheads” (Revelation 22:3-4). Lewis reminds us how
much the church needs this biblically induced, captivating vision of heaven
today. Are we still longing for heaven as Lewis did, or have we become ensnared
by the worthless pursuits attached to this lost world (see 2 Timothy 4:10;
James 4:4; 1 John 2:15)?
Lewis
despised liberal theologies that strive to downplay the miraculous core of
Christianity. He saw them as not only caving in to secular ideologies but also
offering no hope to a world filled with death and suffering. While giving
advice to prospective defenders of the faith, Lewis wrote, “Do not attempt to
water Christianity down. There must be no pretence that you can have it with
the Supernatural left out. So far as I can see Christianity is precisely the
one religion from which the miraculous cannot be separated. You must frankly
argue for supernaturalism from the very outset.”[21]
The Gospel that saves is the very power of God, and we should never be ashamed
of it (Romans 1:16).
Some Respectful Disagreements
I
have been profoundly blessed by Lewis. His ability to integrate reason,
Christian principles, and imaginative thinking is astonishing. For all his
incredible gifts, however, there are areas in his writings where I found myself
strongly disagreeing with Lewis. I should clarify that while I disagree with
Lewis in these areas, I nevertheless respect and admire him as a theologian and
apologist. We all have our blind spots, and Lewis has significantly helped
several generations of Christian thinkers who have attempted to communicate the
gospel to the secular world in a winsome and engaging way.
The three areas, in particular, where I disagree with Lewis include his views on the atonement, Purgatory, and total depravity. I do not believe in Purgatory. The reason is simple: I can’t find support for it in Scripture. I don’t believe the Bible teaches it explicitly or even allows for it implicitly. For example, in Jesus’s parable of the rich man and Lazarus, Abraham tells the rich man in Hades, “Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us” (Luke 16:25-26).[22] According to Jesus, each person is headed for one of only two fixed and eternal destinies, not a third, temporary one (see Hebrews 9:27). When it comes to the doctrines of the atonement and total depravity, however, I suspect that my disagreement with Lewis has more to do with his description of these beliefs than his actual position.
Lewis says that prior to coming to faith, he viewed the idea that Christ needed to suffer on the cross in our place as “immoral and silly.”[23] While he doesn’t say that he still holds this view, he doesn’t seem to give penal substitution much weight. He simply suggests that we focus on the fact that Christ’s blood has somehow washed away our sins and not bicker about how He has done so. While I appreciate Lewis’s ecumenical spirit, I’m also troubled by his glib approach to the atonement when he says we can feel free to “drop” whatever doesn’t work for us.[24] Frankly, I would rather go with the scriptural understanding than a pragmatic understanding of the atonement. And, I believe it does matter that we understand Jesus’ death in a penal, sin-bearing sense, as Scripture clearly explains (see Romans 3:21-26; Hebrews 2:17; 9:11-14, 25-28; 1 John 2:2; 4:10). This understanding of what Jesus accomplished on the cross ties directly to Purgatory. If Jesus truly suffered once for all for all our sins — as I believe He did — what purpose would Purgatory serve? “And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him [Jesus], having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross” (Colossians 2:13-14).
However, I have to add that I do see Lewis conveying some kind of substitutionary view of the atonement in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Edmund is a traitor, and the “Deep Magic” of Narnia demands that a traitor be given the ultimate punishment. Aslan the lion, the Christ figure, wants to save Edmund, but he cannot deny the moral demands of the law his own father, the Emperor, wrote. So what does the great lion do? He dies in the place of Edmund, bearing the punishment that the young traitor deserves. This is an unmistakable allegory of what happened at the cross of Christ. Therefore, in the end, I think Lewis did hold to a substitutionary view, even if there were certain caricatures of the atonement that he clearly rejected.
Similarly,
I think that Lewis downplays the Bible’s teaching on man’s total depravity. At
times, however, he seems to misunderstand the doctrine by implying that man’s
ability to carry out good and generous acts rules it out. The doctrine,
however, is not that we are incapable
of anything good, like dying in someone else’s place for example (Romans 5:7).
Rather, it is that we are so thoroughly fallen that every aspect of our being has
been touched by sin (see Romans 3:23; Ephesians 2:1-3).
While some have questioned whether or not Lewis truly believed in Purgatory, despite the clear allusions we have of it in The Great Divorce, at least by the time he wrote Letters to Malcom his mind seems made up on this matter. When addressing the question of whether or not a Christian should pray for the dead, he states, “I believe in Purgatory.”[25] While dismissing various caricatures of the doctrine as a place of “retributive punishment” rather than “purification,” he seems to hold to a type of Purgatory that even believers like himself will experience. Some may argue that Lewis is only speaking of the believer’s translation to glory where he or she will be utterly free of sin. I doubt that, however, because Lewis addresses this subject in the context of what the dead now experience and why we ought to pray for them.
Lewis as a Spiritual Mentor
Despite
my few disagreements with Lewis, I cannot help but reiterate the way he has
molded much of the way I approach theology, ethics, and apologetics. His
winsome demeanor and beautiful prose make his writings a joy to read and
contemplate. There have been numerous occasions while reading him that I find
him articulating something I’d felt, but struggled to put into words.
For
instance, when explaining why he believes that the material world simply cannot
be all there is, Lewis points to the spiritual hunger common to all of us. Many
have called this Lewis’s argument from desire. “If I find in myself a desire
which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is
that I was made for another world.”[26]
As
we have seen, Lewis unabashedly believed in the supernatural realm. It is
encouraging to know that Lewis, an academic, refused to cave in to the
materialistic culture he indwelled. In fact, despite a growing vehemence to the
doctrine of hell in the Britain of his day, Lewis staunchly held his ground
declaring that Christ Himself clearly taught the reality of hell. In The Problem of Pain, he writes of hell,
“There is no doctrine which I would more willingly remove from Christianity
than this, if it lay in my power. But it has the full support of Scripture and,
specially, of our Lord’s own words; it has always been held by Christendom; and
it has the support of reason.”[27]
The underlying redemptive theme of Lewis’s theology could be expressed in this way: We are broken sinners who need to be remade by God. The way, however, in which this restoration of our true selves is accomplished is only through union with Christ by faith. As we come more into the presence of Christ, the more we are refashioned into what we were always intended to be.[28] Because Lewis views himself as just another pilgrim on the way to the glory we are destined for, he is very approachable as a spiritual mentor.[29] Time and time again, Lewis identifies himself as one who struggles in the very area he is proposing a solution.
In
Lewis’s understanding, humankind’s fundamental problem is not merely rejection
of God, but replacement of God with self. The only cure for our inherited
self-centeredness is self-surrender to God. “The principle runs through all
life from top to bottom. Give up yourself, and you will find your real self.
Lose your life and you will save it.”[30]
In this way, we open ourselves up to God, who alone can transform us by His
grace.
Lewis
draws our attention to why prayer is the only right response to a theistic
reality: God is never far from the believer. “We may ignore, but we can nowhere
evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito.”[31]
Therefore, regular prayer is a must for the Christ-follower, because it is in
prayer that we are acknowledging His ever-present nearness.
As our mentor, Lewis reminds us again and again that our enemy, Satan, seeks to obscure all thought of eternity and the supernatural. Throughout his writings, Lewis is continually trying to tear open the veil of modern secularism to reveal the supernatural world that has always been there. In works like The Screwtape Letters, Lewis reminds us that there are unseen forces continually at play in our lives.
The
modern mind attempts to do away with all things supernatural and reduce all
sense experience to what we can quantify in the laboratory. Yet Lewis repeatedly
reminds us that the spiritual world is no less real than the scientific. We
must never forget that we have an enemy seeking to muddle our view of the
world. Satan is both a deceiver and a strategist, desperately striving to bring
us down. “Be
sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a
roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). In
fact, Satan would have us deny his reality if it meant we would also deny God’s
existence. He is perfectly content to be unknown rather than worshiped if that
means God receives no glory. Like the apostle Paul, Lewis argues that when we
know we have an enemy we want to take up the armor of God every day (see
Ephesians 6:10-18). For example, the modern believer might be tempted to assume
that his anxiety is the result of a chemical imbalance rather than consider
that Satan is assaulting him with troubling thoughts.
Forgiveness
is an essential component to Lewis’s view of the Christian life. However, he
does not adopt a “Pollyanna” kind of perspective here. He recognizes that for
those who have been deeply wounded by the sin of another, forgiveness is both
difficult and painful. In his Letters to
Malcolm, he gives his friend the “good news” that, after thirty years of
attempting to do so, he has finally managed to forgive someone who wronged him.
Lewis delights in the fact that — “even in dry old age” — he has managed to let
go of resentment. He gives us hope that we are all works in progress and that
even a deeply ingrained “evil habit” can be “whisked away” by our Lord, whom he
calls “the great Resolver.” [32]
It’s a beautiful picture to see that even the wise Lewis still had the humility
in his later years to discover anew the joy of forgiveness.
In
one essay, Lewis identifies a common misunderstanding that Christians have
concerning forgiveness — particularly, the forgiveness we receive from God. He
writes, “I find that when I am asking God to forgive me I am often in reality
(unless I watch myself very carefully) asking Him to do something quite
different. I am asking Him not to forgive me but to excuse me. But there is all
the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing.” Lewis goes on to
explain that when we try to excuse our sin, we are actually hindering ourselves
from receiving true forgiveness — the very thing we, as sinners, most need.
Like a patient who comes to the doctor presenting his true ailment in order
that he may be truly healed, Lewis says, we must come to God ready to confess
our sin openly rather than attempt to paper over it with excuses. I find his
perspective to be immensely helpful for myself personally and for the way I disciple
others. This is such a central issue for how one relates to God, and it delves
into the vital question of whether or not we truly believe that God forgives
even the worst of sins.
Conclusion
I
hope that this tribute to Lewis has merely whetted your appetite. I encourage
you to read his writings. Don’t believe those who tell you that he is too hard
to understand. In fact, he writes in a very understandable and friendly manner.
If nothing else, you ought to read TheChronicles of Narnia. I assure you —
they aren’t just for children!
[1] Alister
McGrath, C. S. Lewis — A Life: Eccentric
Genius, Reluctant Prophet (Colorado Springs, CO: Tyndale House Publishers,
2013), 50.
[2] C. S.
Lewis, The Weight of Glory And Other
Addresses (New York: HarperCollins, 1949, 1980), 64-90. I should note that
in his essay “Why I Am not a Pacifist”, he seems to be more concerned with
rebutting faulty arguments pitched by pacifists than with promoting a just war
theory, but the former easily leads him to the latter. Elsewhere, Lewis makes
it clear that war is an outrageous evil, directly resulting from our
estrangement from God. See C. S. Lewis, Mere
Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 1952), 49.
[27] C. S.
Lewis, The Problem of Pain (New York:
Macmillan, 1962), 118.
[28] Joe
Rigney was helpful in coming to this understanding of Lewis’s theology in Joe
Rigney, Lewis on the Christian Life.
[29] For
example, Lewis writes, “The truth is, I haven’t any language weak enough to
depict the weakness of my spiritual life.” Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, 151.
“Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside His outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around His waist. Then He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around Him.” (John 13:3-5)
Jesus said some outrageous things. Like the time He looked at His closest
friends with a piercing gaze and said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must
deny themselves and take up their cross and follow Me. For whoever wants to
save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for Me will find it”
(Matthew 16:24-25).
Wait a minute. Deny myself? Such
an invitation sounds bizarre, not just to our twenty-first century ears, but to
first century ears, as well. We live in a culture of self-promotion. Ours is
the era of entitlement. We look into the mirror and repeat the motto that we’ve
inherited: “You deserve the best.” Advertisements urge us to have it your way and indulge thyself. Feeling thirsty? Well then, “this Bud’s for you.” Want to look young again? No
problem, this beauty product will remind you that you are a goddess. Want to do something for yourself for a change?
It’s about time. Express yourself!
“I Love Me Some Me”
Did you know that between October 2011 and November 2017, there were 259
selfie-related deaths reported? I’m not kidding. These people died while
attempting to capture an impressive or hilarious snapshot of themselves. Many
were hit by a train. Some fell off a bridge. Even more slipped off a sheer
cliff. According to the 2018 report, men outnumbered women three to one in
selfie-related deaths.[1] To
counter this growing problem, many sightseeing locations around the world have
put up signs prohibiting selfies due to the mortal danger associated with this
risky behavior. Think of it: men and women (mostly young men) are literally
risking their lives in order to capture a one-second pose so they can post it
on social media or share it with friends!
Now, obviously, there is nothing inherently wrong with taking a picture of
oneself. However, we should reflect on how often we have acted foolishly in order to be in the spotlight. We can
laugh at former wide receiver Terrell Owens’ statement, “I love me some me,”
but I say he was just being more honest than most. Although we don’t care to
admit it, we’re all prone to narcissism.
Into this self-intoxicated world, our Lord speaks, turning our entire
outlook on life upside down. “If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose
it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it” (Matthew 16:25,
NLT). To those of us who thought the movie of life is all about us, Jesus flips
the script. It’s not about self-promotion, it’s about self-denial. It’s not
about self-fulfillment, it’s about self-emptying. It’s not about making much of
yourself, it’s about giving yourself to God. That, in fact, is precisely what
Jesus did when He encoded Himself with human DNA to live, love, die, and rise
in this beautiful yet broken world. He surrendered His rights and “emptied
Himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men”
(Philippians 2:7).
What would it look like if we were to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, who
chose self-denial over self-promotion or even self-preservation?
The Apostle Paul foresaw the coming days when “people will be lovers of
self” (2 Timothy 3:2). Self-love is corrosive; it turns us in upon ourselves —
something love was never intended to do. We need to let Jesus teach us that
there is a beauty to self-denial. As we empty our hearts of self-love, we make
room for receiving God’s love and, in turn, can extend that love to others.
The Servant King
Jesus is the King, but He’s a king who humbly washes the smelly feet of His
followers (John 13:3-5).
When we humans rise to positions of power and influence, it tends to go to our heads. Satisfied with our new power status, we get a bloated sense of self-importance. Like Simba from The Lion King, we “can’t wait to be king” of our own little kingdoms so that, as the cub sings, we are “free to do it all my way.” But not Jesus. Note how counterintuitively this works out in His life. “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper… laid aside His outer garments… poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet” (John 13:3-5).
Whereas we often look around for servants from our position of power, Jesus took on the role of a servant from His position of power. It’s as if the elderly John is shaking his head in amazement as he recalls what took place in that upper room so many years before. He carefully observes that Jesus did the unpopular job of scrubbing calloused and dusty feet while fully aware that He was the King of the universe — “the Father had given all things into His hands” (v. 3).
Jesus the King chose the way of the humble servant. Not only did He do this to demonstrate His immeasurable love for His followers (John 13:1), but He also did this so we would have a tangible example of what true leadership looks like. “You call Me Teacher and Lord,” He told them, “and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (John 13:13-14). Rather than exploiting His power to make His life more comfortable, as we are all too prone to do, Jesus used His power to serve others.
Let me guarantee something for you. You will never find a passage in the New Testament where Jesus snaps His fingers and demands that Peter bring Him the hors d’oeuvres. You will look in vain for that passage where He orders John to wash His feet or commands Andrew to pour Him a glass of the wine He’s just made. Scripture says He did not use His divine status and privileges for His own advantage. Instead, He chose the role of a servant, humbly obeying His Father “to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8).
We need to remember there is great joy in serving others. Jesus endured the
agony of the cross “for the joy that was set before Him” (Hebrews 12:2). Moreover,
Jesus wanted His joy to be fulfilled in us (John 17:13). Despite all the
countless options available to Him, Jesus chose self-denial. We can still see
the effect of that choice in the countless hospitals, orphanages, homeless
shelters, schools, and clinics all over the world that His followers have built
in His name.
So, what about you? What are you clutching tightly to that might serve a
greater purpose if you gave it away? Who is the hurting person in your life?
What if God has blessed you so that you can put a smile on their face? Where is
a place you could go to embody the self-giving love of Jesus for others? You
know that task that nobody in the house or at work wants to do — what if you
chose to do it? Christ chose self-denial so that we could see the beauty of
true love and follow His example. What do you choose?
“A person’s days are determined; you have
decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.” (Job 14:5, NIV)
What are you waiting for? I frequently find myself wishing things were
happening faster. Maybe it’s because I’m naturally an impatient person, or
maybe it’s because I love the thrill of seeing things get done. Either way, I
often feel that one of the greatest struggles in life is living in the tension
of waiting.
So what are you waiting for? A new job? A new house? A new relationship? A
call from your doctor? Take inventory of your heart for a moment. Have you ever
noticed how the other highway lane or the other grocery line always seems to be
moving faster than the one you’re in? What tends to happen to you when you feel
like something you’re waiting for is taking too long? Do you grow agitated by
your circumstances? Do people start to rub you the wrong way?
It’s very easy to be short with others when life seems to be stuck at a red light. It gets worse when others seem to be finding or achieving the very things for which you are most longing. It’s as if you’ve been stuck in the back of the line for a ride at Disneyland, and you keep watching one person after another jump ahead of you with their fast pass. You begin to wonder, Where’s my fast pass in life?
It can be discouraging to the point of debilitating when you live in a
fast-paced world, yet seem to be stuck in slow motion. We think, Boy, wouldn’t it be nice to have a
fast-forward button for life? We all know what it’s like to experience the
unwelcome tension of waiting. Millennials like myself probably struggle with
this even more than former generations. After all, we are enmeshed in the world
of fast food, next-day delivery, and real-time news alerts. Every bit of
information we need is merely a click away. Our culture has programmed us to view
waiting as an unpleasant part of life. When we do have to wait for something,
we see it as nothing but an inconvenient obstacle to our life plans.
But what if waiting is part of
the plan? What if God intends to do something in us while we wait that could
not otherwise happen? This is where a healthy view of God’s sovereignty can be
indescribably freeing. “My times are in Your hand” (Psalm 31:15).
Scripture offers this promise to our restless hearts: “And we know that for
those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called
according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). Read that promise again, only slower. The
first thing we need to see is that God is working out “all things” for the good
of His beloved children. “All things” has to include even the tiniest details
in life. How we choose to respond to waiting reflects our confidence in God’s
sovereign goodness and wisdom in that moment. I intentionally say we choose how we respond, because while we
cannot always change our circumstances, we can
always change our attitude (Philippians 2:14).
Over a dozen passages in the Bible talk about waiting on or for the Lord. To wait for the Lord is “to put your hope
in the Lord with great anticipation.”
“Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for
the LORD!” (Psalm 27:14)
“For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the LORD shall
inherit the land.” (Psalm 37:9)
“Do not say, ‘I will repay evil’; wait for the LORD, and He will deliver
you.” (Proverbs 20:22)
“…but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall
mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk
and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)
The oft-repeated cliché “Good things come to those who wait” could be
amended to “Great things come to those who wait on the Lord.” But let’s be
careful not to reduce waiting on the Lord
to some version of hyper spiritualized laziness. It is an act of faith, whereby
we live in the present in full reliance on the One who holds the future. It’s
not an excuse for passivity. Followers of Christ are to be passionately
involved in loving service in the midst of the waiting (Romans 12:6-13). “Never
be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically” (Romans 12:11,
NLT).
While the late Tom Petty was talking about his romantic relationship, the
chorus from his song “The Waiting is the Hardest Part” can well apply to our
situation: “You take it on faith, you take it to the heart/ The waiting is the
hardest part.”
We see many examples in Scripture of those who had to wait a long time for
their prayers to be answered. The woman with a bleeding problem had to wait
twelve long years for healing (Luke 8:43-48). Despite their faithfulness and
courage, Joshua and Caleb had to wait 40 years to enter the Promised Land (Deuteronomy
2:7; Joshua 5:6). Abraham and Sarah had to wait until they were 100 and 90 to
have children (Genesis 21:5-7). The lame man at the Pool of Bethesda waited 38
years before God healed him (John 5:5-9).
In each of these cases, God was doing something in those who were waiting
while they waited. Think of it. The man of John 9 who had been blind from birth
had the unspeakable privilege of not only being healed by Christ but coming to
know Jesus as Messiah and Savior (John 9:35-39). In the words of Jesus, all
those years of blindness “happened so the power of God could be seen in him”
(John 9:3).
Treasure this truth: God is never idle. He is doing something in and through you today to reveal His power in you tomorrow. He is always at work in the waiting.
“Now, brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand. By this gospel you are saved…” (1 Corinthians 15:1-2a, NIV)
Recently, my wife Whitney and I welcomed our son Ryan into the world. A newborn baby is truly a wonder to behold. Their soft hands are already grasping for another hand. Their mouth already seeking nourishment. Their eyes slowly opening and struggling to focus for the first time on the big bright world around them.
With Ryan’s arrival, we have noticed our older two boys (Logan and Weston) acting up a bit more than usual. I don’t think there’s any surprise here. Children often need time adjusting to the arrival of a new sibling. It’s a new era for them. The truth has gradually dawned on them, on a completely new level, that they are not in fact the center of the universe. I find myself wanting to teach them over and over, “It’s not all about you.” Many a parent can relate to this.
Parents rightly see the need to discipline and correct their misbehaving
children. But here’s the question I want us to consider: In the midst of discipline,
are we teaching our children the gospel of Jesus Christ? Is our method of
correction, discipline, and instruction working to support or deny the truth of
the gospel? Does the message we are conveying sound more like self-salvation or
divine rescue?
No one has to teach their child to be selfish. Parents know firsthand that we all come into this world with a self-centered bent. We want what we want, and we want it now. It’s a shocking truth to learn that the world and everyone we know is not in orbit around us. Even as adults, however, we tend to live as if the story of the universe is all about us. But the gospel of Jesus Christ tells us a better story. It tells us that we were made for a much higher purpose than to live for ourselves. According to Scripture, we exist for God. To worship Him, love Him, and honor Him. It is only in living according to our God-given purpose rather than our self-made plans that we find true and lasting joy. This is precisely the goal of the gospel, the Bible’s central message.
Over and over, Scripture reminds us that we are on this planet to worship and enjoy God. “So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31, NLT). Anything less will leave us empty, beaten up, and dissatisfied. When we live for God rather than self, our actions correspond to our design.
You may remember watching the animated Disney classic Pinocchio as a child. It’s a fascinating story of a puppet that comes to life when his maker wishes upon a star that his little marionette whom he named Pinocchio might become a real boy. That night, a glowing blue fairy partially grants his wish by bringing Pinocchio to life. However, he remains a wooden puppet. Pinocchio awakes and — humorously — is shocked to be alive. The blue fairy tells Pinocchio that if he proves himself “brave, truthful, and unselfish,” Geppetto’s wish will come true. She also assigns the loyal little locust, Jiminy Cricket, to be Pinocchio’s constant companion and voice of conscience.
The tale follows Pinocchio and Jiminy on their many adventures as the puppet sets out to discover what life in the world is really like. While Pinocchio is loved by his “father,” Geppetto, he soon discovers there are many in this world who want to lead him astray. He also learns how easy it is to make wrong choices. I doubt there is another Disney movie that is so chock full of moral lessons and aphorisms, like when the blue fairy says, “You see, Pinocchio, a lie keeps growing and growing until it’s as plain as the nose on your face.”
In the film’s darkest moments, Pinocchio and a friend are lured to Pleasure Island, a place where selfish boys can live it up — smoking, drinking, gambling, and doing whatever else they want — all without the moral restraints of parental authority. Unfortunately for Pinocchio and his friend, the island is cursed so that all the naughty boys who travel there transform into donkeys and are eventually sold into slave labor. One boy-turned-donkey desperately cries out for his mother. In a menacing tone, the island’s owner says, “You boys have had your fun. Now pay for it!” Pinocchio barely escapes, but his friend does not.
In a final act of courage, Pinocchio tries to rescue Geppetto from the belly of a sperm whale that swallowed the puppet maker while he was searching for Pinocchio. While Geppetto and Jiminy Cricket survive the whole ordeal, Pinocchio is killed. At the end of the film, there is a touching moment when Geppetto weeps over his broken puppet lying on the bed. Suddenly, the fairy not only resurrects him but transforms him into a real boy. “Father, I’m a real boy!” Pinocchio shouts in amazement. Apparently, Pinocchio’s final act of bravery proved him worthy of life.
In many ways, Pinocchio is something of a parable for how the modern world understands Christianity. Many today, even in the church, see Christianity as a moral prescription for life. God’s law is a list of dos and don’ts that we are to follow. We can think that, like Pinocchio, we must prove ourselves worthy of life. This way of thinking makes sense to us, but it stems from a wrong view of God.
We can think of God as if He were like a giant fairy, watching over our
every move, evaluating our lives to see whether or not we really deserve to be
accepted as His child. If we know we’ve blown it — spending too much time at Pleasure
Island — we can hear God demanding that we pay up for all that we’ve done. Many
people today live with this view of God, persistently uncertain of whether they
have done enough or are good enough to go to heaven. Even if we see God as
kindhearted and encouraging like the fairy, urging us to listen to our
conscience, we can think it’s ultimately about us being good enough to meet God’s
expectations.
American sociologist Christian Smith called this version of Christianity “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.”[1] It essentially boils down to this: God is there for us when we are in a bind, but generally lets us go through life relying on our conscience (rather than His Word). The main thing God cares about is that we try to live a good life and be decent individuals, because heaven is the reward for good people when they die. Makes sense, right? The only problem is that this is nothing like the Christianity of the Bible.
What’s wrong with the above description? Well, for starters, there’s no mention of how Christ fits into that version of Christianity! In Moralistic Therapeutic Deism, Jesus is merely an add-on to Christianity, rather than the hub and center around which everything turns. At best, such a view sees Jesus as a good example or a wise teacher. Certainly, He was the supreme example and wisest teacher ever to live, but to reduce Him to these descriptions is to try to have Christ without the cross. It turns a blind eye to the bleeding and dying man staked to the cross. It ignores the miraculous triumph of the empty tomb. It downplays Jesus’ own radical claims: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me” (John 14:6).
Here’s the challenge for Christian parents. It is far easier to skip the gospel and address the moral behavior of our children with rewards or threats. “If you obey, I’ll give you…” “You’d better not disobey me, or else…” Honestly, I catch myself relying on this tactic all the time. I’m certainly not saying that all our rules should be thrown out or that we should stop disciplining our kids. Both of these are essential and sadly not practiced by many parents today.
But when we discipline our kids, are we pointing them to the truth of the gospel? Are we merely addressing their outward behavior, or are we striving to address their heart? The heart is the epicenter for all our children’s thoughts and motives. “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (Proverbs 4:23). Jesus said that all our evil thoughts and actions spring from our sin-riddled hearts (Matthew 15:19). If all we ever use is rewards or threats in our discipline, we are actually encouraging our kids to ask the self-centered question: “What’s in it for me?”
Whether we like it or not, we are teaching our kids a gospel not just with what we say but with how we act. The only question is whether the gospel we are giving is the true gospel of Jesus Christ or something else. When I discipline my son for stealing cookies or talking back to Whitney or myself (speaking hypothetically, of course), I want him to know that what he’s doing is a serious problem. And this problem has to do with the sin in his heart. He needs to know not only that his sin saddens me, but that it saddens God, too (Genesis 6:6). I also want him to understand that Jesus loved him so much that He did something about the sin in his heart. In fact, He suffered and died for it, so that God can forgive him and scrub his heart clean of all that sin (1 John 1:8-2:2). My son needs to know that no matter how good he strives to be, he can never work off his guilt. Only Jesus can do that. Beyond this, I want him to know that he’s not alone. “Daddy has sin in his heart, too, and needs Jesus just as much.”
I want my sons — even at a very young age — to recognize their great need to be reconciled to God. The Bible says, “It’s your sins that have cut you off from God” (Isaiah 59:2, NLT). “So we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making His appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, ‘Come back to God!’ For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:21, NLT). We need to explain to our kids that what makes sin so serious is that we were made for a relationship with a holy God. At the same time, our kids can be confident of their standing with God through faith in Jesus (Romans 8:1; Philippians 1:6).
In every generation, there is a danger of losing or distorting the gospel. Most often this drift from the gospel is well intended. After all, it’s not wrong to want to see our kids live good and moral lives. Pinocchio is a story that resonates with some of our most basic moral intuitions. But what our kids need to see is that there is a much greater story, a powerful story ofredemption, that is taught in Scripture and centered around Jesus Christ. Teaching our kids to be good boys and girls is too small a goal. We need to teach them to be Christ-centered, Christ-exalting, and Christ-loving kids. We want their obedience to be rooted in love, not self-centeredness.
Above all else, Jesus-following parents need to embrace the truth that they are in the disciple-making business.
Photos Courtesy of Pixabayand Disney.com
[1]
Christian Smith and Melinda Lundquist Denton, Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers
(New York: Oxford University Press, 2005).
Lamp and Light 