Trust, Move,Trust, Move....

Romans 4 is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. Whenever I am bothered by the future, I turn to a few chapters in the Bible. Romans 4 is one of them. “And Abraham’s faith did not weaken, even though he knew that he was too old to be a father at the age of one hundred and that Sarah, his wife, had never been able to have children. Abraham never wavered in believing God’s promise. In fact, his father grew stronger, and in this he brought glory to God” (4:19-20, NLT). Even though Abraham was facing “double deadness” (his dead age and his wife’s dead womb), he continued to believe and hope. God’s promise became the sole element of Abraham’s faith. “He was absolutely convinced that God was able to do anything he promised” (4:21, NLT).

Abraham’s faith was not blind faith. Rather, his faith came from his knowledge of God. His believing came from his knowing; his knowing came from numerous encounters with God. This is Abraham’s theological-experiential knowledge. It is this kind of knowledge of God that helped him believe. In Genesis, we see that Abraham trusted in moving. “Then the Lord told Abram, ‘Leave….and go….’” (12:1ff) True believing moves along with the promise of God; the God of promise moves along with those who believe.

Newness

In Theology of Hope (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), Jurgen Moltmann writes:

God is not something in the Beyond, but he is coming and as the coming One he is present. He promises a new world of all-embracing life, of righteousness and truth, and with this promise he constantly calls this world in question—not because to the eye of hope it is as nothing, but because to the eye of the hope it is not yet what it has the prospect of being (p. 164).  

God is not below us, above us, but before us. Instead of us moving towards him, he is coming to us. In the light of his promise, we are not satisfied with what we see in the present, for the present conditions are far from the future conditions as promised by God. The eye of hope does not overlook the problem of the world, escape from it, and create our own utopia. Rather, the eye of hope fully engages with the worldly problems because the cross of Christ grounds the Christian hope in history. The eye of hope is not succumbed to the present-historic contexts because of the not-yet prospect of the promise of the coming kingdom of God. The resurrection of Jesus dealt with death and its evilness, transcended it, and has guaranteed the promise of not-yet in the present. Thus, what is not yet gives us an access to the future horizon of what is to come and allows us to engage prophetically with what is already, which is being transformed within the horizon of the history of the working of God’s promises.

God is before us and coming to us. Newness is possible before us. An anticipation of such newness in life points us to look at the God of promise ahead of us. The future newness keeps us in perspective that what we see and have now will pass away and become obsolete soon in the light of the newness to come.

 

Discipleship Letters 71-72

Discipleship Letter 71                               Jan. 24^th, 2010

“Stewardship appears in our life as our discipleship leads us toward new responsibilities and greater personal authority. But we do not experience these invitations of religious maturity in a social vacuum. The structures of our families and our churches can foster this religious development or frustrate it.” [Evelyn E. Whitehead and James D. Whitehead, Christian Adulthood: A Journey of Self-Discovery (Liguori: Liguori, 2005), p. 56.]

In Christian adulthood, we have to deal with the context that we are in. it either fosters or frustrates religious maturity. For me, I start to realize that in order to foster religious maturity, any form of frustration that we experience in life or ministry is part of God’s nurturing process.

Learning to deal with frustration itself is a formational process. Stewardship means managing the property of others. Christian stewardship means that Christians manage God’s properties that have been entrusted to us. Thus, as God’s stewards, we must learn to manage frustration as God’s “property” that we receive from Him through the context and the people within it.

When Jesus sent messengers ahead to a Samaritan village to prepare for his arrival, the people of the village did not welcome Jesus. “When James and John saw this, they said to Jesus, ‘Lord, should we call down fire from heaven to burn them up?’ But Jesus turned and rebuked them.” (Luke 9:51-55) At the end of 9:55, some manuscripts add—“And he said, ‘You don’t realize what your hearts are like’” or “And he said, ‘you do not know what manner of spirit you are of.’” In a context that either fosters or frustrates, God wants us to realize what our hearts are like.

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Discipleship Letter 72                               Jan. 31^st, 2010

“…Flaws and faithfulness do not supplant each other but coexist. We all bear wounds. His [Henri Nouwen] came from anxiety over sexual identity and a hypersensitivity to rejection. Mine come most form family and church. Others come from chronic illness or deep pain. We can live as victims, blaming God or someone else for our misfortune; or, following Nouwen, we can allow those wounds to drive us to God.” [Philip Yancey, Soul Survivor: How My Faith Survived the Church (New York: Doubleday, 2001), p. 307.]

Everybody bears wounds. We live with them; we grow with them; we deal with them. Philip Yancey’s wound comes from the church. “Every writer has one main them, a spoor that he or she keeps sniffing around, tracking, following to its source. If I had to define my own theme, it would be that of a person who absorbed some of the worst the church has to offer, yet still landed in the loving arms of God. Yes, I went through a period of rejection of the church and God, a conversion experience in reverse that felt life liberation for a time. I ended up, however, not as an atheist, a refugee from the church, but as one of its advocates.” (pp. 7-8)

To a certain extent, I consider Philip Yancey is a very cynical person. But his cynicism does not destroy his faith. Rather, it has led him to a higher ground. Because of his theme, he discovers more of God—a unique aspect of God. His voice makes me think that I should not downplay your theme and make it irrelevant regarding with your soul searching.

Jesus and the Four Men

“And they came, bringing to him [Jesus] a paralytic carried by four men. And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay. And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘My son, your sins are forgiven.’” (Mk. 2:3-5, ESV)

Jesus sees their faith. The text doesn’t say the faith of the paralytic. The faith of the four men becomes the means for the paralytic to get healed. We don’t know whether the paralytic has faith or not. The text is silent about his spiritual condition. One of the key aspects of this story is their faith. In this context, Jesus responds to the communal faith. The small group of four presents this paralytic perfect in Christ (see Col. 1:28). The four unnamed men place the paralytic in front of Jesus so that he can get healed. Interestingly, rather than being healed physically, he first gets healed spiritually: “Your sins are forgiven.” Then Jesus says to him, “I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.” (2:11)

The first mention of faith (2:5) in Mark significantly links it with acting rather than with knowing or feeling. We know nothing of the beliefs of the four friends of the paralytic except that they take action, including circumventing crowds and removing roofs to ensure that their charge is brought to Jesus. Faith is first and foremost not knowledge about Jesus but active trust that Jesus is sufficient for one’s deepest and most heartfelt needs.[1]

The four friends take action together. This is biblical fellowship. First of all, they don’t just believe and talk about their faith. They put it into action. Their faith is action-oriented. Second, they don’t merely act out their faith individually. They execute their faith together. Third, when they can’t get near Jesus because of the crowd, they don’t complain or give up. I believe that they discuss about the situation and come up with a solution so that they can accomplish the mission. Fourth, it is not easy to move the paralytic up to the roof and let down the paralytic on his bed. It is hard work. They work hard.

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[1] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark. The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; Leicester: Apollos, 2002), p. 76. This is one of the best commentaries on Mark’s gospel.

A Theological Crisis

In quietness, the psalmist allowed himself to make a diligent search (Ps. 77:6). When he started to search within himself honestly, the Spirit of God encountered his spirit. He asked a few questions in his spiritual search:

Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?

Has his steadfast love forever ceased?

Are his promises at and end for all time?

Has God forgotten to be gracious?

Has he in anger shut up his compassion? (77: 7-9, ESV)

In the day of trouble, the psalmist questioned his belief. More specifically, he doubted his God. This is a theological crisis for the psalmist. His faith did not jump from quietness (77:6) to conviction—“Then I said, ‘I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.’” (77:10) Rather, from doubt to solid faith, he welcomed such a crisis by questioning what he truly believed and scrutinizing his own theological conviction. God is still God after being “investigated.” As Augustine said, “God longs to be longed after.” In this sense, I believe that God is ok with our rebellious search because God knows that we are in the journey: The Promised Land is ahead of the wilderness. With his promise “search and we will find,” we will move from disorder (doubt) to order (faith).

The psalmist confronted himself with these questions about God. He always articulated his faith in this language (e.g. his promises, his grace, compassion, etc…). How much did he truly believe and embrace? It’s necessary to revisit our religious jargons. We use it so often that we don’t usually mean it most of the time. We use it as if it were part of our system. We may be surprised how much we don’t believe and embrace when we search. But the good news is that when we start to search, we get to know God from where we actually are. We don’t start with where we think we are. God only meets us in reality. The doctrine of the incarnation confirms it.

Follow My Thread

I bought a book on Sunday. It’s Timothy Keller’s King’s Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus (Dutton, 2011). The book is about the life of Jesus according to the Gospel of Mark. The first half of the book is about Jesus as the King; the second half, Jesus’ Cross. The way Tim Keller interprets the text is ok, but the way he communicates the story of Jesus to modern readers is very good. As I read, I realize that not only do I learn the life of Jesus according to Mark, but also Keller’s communication skill. The way he uses illustrations is amazing. However, most of the illustrations that he draws from are sophisticated. You have to pay attention to get it. Once you get it, you are hooked and start to think about it.

To illustrate what it means to us when Jesus said to the disciples: “Come, follow me.” Tim Keller said:

About 150 years ago George MacDonald wrote a children’s book called The Princess and the Goblin. Irene, the protagonist, is eight years old. She has found an attic room in her house, and every so often her fairy grandmother appears there. When Irene goes to look for her she’s often not there, so one day her grandmother gives her a ring with a thread tied to it, leading to a little ball of thread. She explains that she’ll keep the ball.

“But I can’t see it,” says Irene.

“No. The thread is too fine for you to see it. You can only feel it.” With this assurance, Irene tests the thread.

“Now, listen,” says the grandmother, “If ever you find yourself in any danger…you must take off your ring and put it under the pillow of your bed. Then you must lay your forefinger…upon the thread, and follow the thread wherever it leads you.”

“Oh, how delightful! It will lead me to you, Grandmother, I know!”

“Yes,” said the grandmother, “but, remember, it may seem to you a very roundabout way indeed, and you must not doubt the thread. Of one thing you may be sure, that while you hold it, I hold it too.” A few days later Irene is in bed, and goblins get into the house. She hears them snarling out in the hallway, but she has the presence of mind to take off her ring and put it under the pillow. And she begins to feel the thread, knowing that it’s going to take her to her grandmother and to safety. But to her dismay, it takes her outside, and she realizes that it’s taking her right toward the cave of the goblins.

Inside the cave, the thread leads her up to a great heap of stones, a dead end. “The thought struck her, that at least she could follow the thread backwards, and thus get out…But the instant she tried to feel it backwards, it vanished from her tough.” The grandmother’s thread only worked forward, but forward it led into a heap of stones. Irene “burst into a wailing cry,” but after crying she realizes that the only way to follow the thread is to tear down the wall of stones. She begins tearing it down, stone by stone. Though her fingers are soon bleeding, she pulls and pulls.

Suddenly she hears a voice. It’s her friend Curdie, how has been trapped in the goblin’s cave! Curdie is astounded and asks, “Why, however, did you come here?” 

Irene replies that her grandmother sent her, “and I think I’ve found out way.”

After Irene has followed the thread and removed enough rocks to create an opening, Curdie starts to climb up out of the cave—but Irene keeps going deeper into the cave. Curdie objects: “Where are you going there? That’s not the way out. That’s where I couldn’t get out.”

“I know that,” says Irene. “But this is the way my thread goes, and I must follow it.” And indeed the thread proves trustworthy, because her grandmother is trustworthy. (pp. 22-25)

This story is a bit long. But it makes you think about the phrase: “But this is my thread goes, and I must follow it.” Jesus is trustworthy. An hour ago, I was reading Psalms. I paused, mediated, and prayed to God when I was reading Ps. 84:11b-12:

“No good thing will the Lord withhold from those who do what is right.

O Lord Almighty, happy are those who trust in you.”

Subtract, then Add

Reading Jim Cymbala’s Fresh Faith challenges me from time to time. In chapter 12 Addition by Subtraction, he talks about the fact that we can only move on by losing some things in life. There are certain things we must give up in order to move ahead and follow the Lord. In other words, we must empty ourselves in order to be filled with. Jesus said, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” (Mk. 1:15) Repentance points to the reality of being emptied; trust, to the reality of being filled with God’s blessing in Christ. This is a kingdom principle in the life of faith.

Jim Cymbala wrote:

We have to face the fact that in order to be what God wants us to be, he will have to take away things in our life that don’t belong. In any life or ministry devoted to him, we must stop and ask, “Are there attitudes here that grieve the Lord? Are there habits that need to be broken? What are the impurities that must go? How about that desire to be seen, that competitiveness, that seeking for glory and acclaim? What about the prejudice or judgmentalism toward others?” We must be absolutely open in inviting God to thoroughly search us and take away anything he sees fit. (Kindle location 2346, 2356).

In the process of growth, God gives us more by first taking things away from us that don’t belong to us as God’s children. “His process is to subtract in order to add. He will never make a treaty with our secret pockets of sin.” (Kindle location 2337)

Fresh Faith

After attending the Brooklyn Tabernacle today, I came home and read Jim Cymbala’s Fresh Faith: What Happens When Real Faith Ignites God’s people (Zondervan, Kindle Version). This is the fourth book that I read from him. The Brooklyn Tabernacle is a good church, for she makes me trust in God in whom nothing is impossible. Throughout my Christian journey, I have focused more on the ordinary side of the Christian faith. In other words, I’ve focused my attention on down-to-earth spirituality. Most of my books are about encountering God in our ordinary life. How extraordinary could it be in our everyday life? If Christians can’t recognize the life of ordinariness and address it with realism, what good does the Christian faith make in our lives? I believe that there is nothing wrong with this side of spirituality. Otherwise, many Christian thinkers and writers will be out of business. Embracing our ordinariness is part of our faith. However, many times the Bible looks at God from an extraordinary standpoint.

In Fresh Faith, I am reminded of Romans 4 in which Abraham’s faith is described vividly.

Romans 4:19-22:

“He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. That is why his faith was ‘counted to him as righteousness.’”

Abraham was 99. Sarah was barren. It was a hopeless situation. But the text says, “No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God. The God of miracle triumphed the old age of Abraham and the barrenness of Sarah. In Him, all things are possible. If God can do something like that in the family of Abraham, what else can’t he do in my life or in my family?

Jim Cymbala said:

Isn’t that a powerful Scripture? Realism about the problem was not anti-faith in the slightest. In fact, it made Abraham say, ‘O God, you are the only one who can change this situation. Come and help us, we pray!” (Fresh Faith, Kindle location 531, 540.)

I pray that I will continue to have true faith in Him, and my faith is not the faith that helps me grasp more and more things from God, but promotes godliness and devotion in me towards Him so that I can serve Him in the way that I can please Him. For the Bible says, “Without faith, it is impossible to please Him.” (Heb. 11:6)