Wednesday, December 30, 2009

A Covenant & Christmas

Since the first day of Christmas I have wanted to write a Christmas reflection, and here it is day four and nothing. I finally decided that my heart and mind are pulling in a different direction, and that I should write out of that which I am currently preoccupied. Fortunately, the pull of my heart and mind is related to the story of Christmas.

I have been reading through N.T. Wright’s book, Justification, which was written in part as a response to John Piper’s book, The Future of Justification: a Response to N.T. Wright. And so, Wright’s book is a response to a response, which expresses the controversial nature of Wright’s concept of justification. Perhaps the depth of this controversy can be seen in the metaphor that Wright uses to begin his book, a metaphor that equates his understanding of justification with a kind of intellectual Copernican revolution.

Essentially, Wright is saying that the doctrine of justification does not arise out of the question “How can a sinner stand before a righteous and holy God?” but rather out of the question “How will God be faithful to his covenant with Abraham, by which all the nations of the world will be blessed.” The point for Wright is that justification is not about the existential crises of the individual, but rather about God’s actions to restore the entire cosmos and all of humanity to their original integrity and beauty.

In constructing his understanding of justification one of the key issues Wright addresses is what he identifies as a mischaracterization of Judaism as a religion based upon works righteousness. Against this, Wright asserts that much of the historical documents of Paul’s era make it clear that the Jews understood themselves to be God’s people on the basis of grace, a grace most particularly seen in the covenant established with their forefather Abraham. Within this covenant, the Law was commonly understood to be a means of maintaining faithful membership, as well as a means by which Israel was distinguished and separated from the rest of the gentile nations. Thus the Law was not held to be the means by which a faithful Jew sought to make his or herself righteous before God.

Another critical issue Wright addresses in constructing his doctrine of justification is the idea of exile as it was understood during Paul’s time. According to Wright many Jews believed they were in a state of partial exile, insofar as they had returned to their homeland, but they continued to be under foreign domination. Along with this, it was commonly believed that a complete end to their exile would not happen until the Messiah came to usher in God’s Kingdom by which God’s people would be delivered from and vindicated before all the nations. It is from this idea of vindication, particularly with its eschatological connotations, that Wright develops his understanding of justification.

Paul, according to Wright, had come to see that what Israel had expected for herself at the end of the age: vindication, had happened in the person of Jesus the Messiah, and that this vindication was particularly seen in Jesus’ resurrection. For Paul, the resurrection of Jesus signified the coming of the end, the coming of the Kingdom in which the restoration of creation and the justification of God’s people is now available in the person and ministry of Jesus Christ. The implication of Jesus’ resurrection also necessitated for Paul the need to redraw the lines of covenant membership. Instead of this line being drawn along the ethnic markers of Judaism, it was now to be drawn along the lines of all those who confess that Jesus is the Messiah of Israel. And so, justification, according to Paul, according to Wright, is about inclusion in God’s covenant with Abraham, a covenant that was established prior to the giving of the Law, and a covenant that Abraham entered into by faith, and who thereby became the father of all who believe.

Please take note that my presentation of the essentials of Wright’s book does not due justice to the cogency with which he develops and supports his understanding of the doctrine of justification. Moreover, I have not touched upon the ways his book has been a blessing to me, and the ways I find myself resisting him on some points. In short, this book merits much more than I have given it in this post, and for this reason I plan on returning to it in future posts. For now, however, in light of the Christmas season, I will just say the following.

One result of reading this book is that I have never, in my life, ever felt so connected to the history of Israel. I now see myself as one how has, to use Paul’s term, been grafted into the story of God’s passionate love for his people Israel. I feel much more connected to the lives of the patriarchs and prophets, and the significance of proclaiming that Israel’s God is God indeed. Most importantly it has become very meaningful for me to proclaim that Jesus is the Messiah, the living embodiment of God’s righteousness, the living embodiment of God’s faithfulness to his covenant with our father Abraham, through whom all the nations of the world will be blessed.

In thinking about God’s covenant with Abraham as the context for understanding the significance of the birth of Mary’s baby, I am reminded of the words of an old man named Simeon. When Mary and Joseph took Jesus to the temple, in accordance with the custom of the Law, Simeon, prompted by the Holy Spirit, took the baby into his arms and praised God by saying:

Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all people,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A Long Way Off

During this past Lenten season I read Henry Nouwen’s Show Me The Way, and I came across the following verse from the Gospel of Luke about the prodigal son:

I will leave this place and go to my father and say: “Father I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired men.” So he left the place and went back to his father.

While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him.

Nouwen’s reflection was an exposition on returning. His main idea was twofold, that returning to the Father was a lifelong struggle, and that God’s profound love provides the foundation of our returning. Of the two aspects of this reflection I certainly understand the former, and I struggle with the latter. It is this struggle that prompts me to write this post.

Within the above passage I was caught by the verse that says, “While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity.” On a literal level the verse is talking about physical distance. Perhaps, in this story, the father’s house was on top of a hill, and thus he could see a good distance a way. So, one day he steps out to survey his land and far off, as little more than a speck on the horizon, he identifies his wayward son and runs out to embrace him. The son’s distance, however, is not just a physical reality. The boy is still a long way off because, though he is physically returning, in his heart he is not with his father. He is not returning because of a desire to be reunited with his dad, he is not longing to restore the lost relationship. Instead, he is coming home merely because his funds ran out, and life was hard. And yet, the father, who knows this very well, runs out to embrace the boy, to hold his beloved son regardless of why he has returned.

I am astounded by this verse, and particularly the words, “still along way off” because I am so thoroughly like this prodigal. I am a user in the distance, and my returning is more about me than God, is more about the gifts of God than God himself. I have known, struggled with, and in some measure been shamed by this mean truth for my whole adult life. I have long searched for genuine repentance, and ironically been very self involved in trying to find or produce it. Often, I have imagined God, for whom nothing is hid, looking down upon my soul and seeing my impure motives and at best coldly letting me enter by some back door. But this passage, this blessed passage says that while the boy was still a long way off, his father astoundingly and unexpectedly runs out to embrace him. This is unspeakable grace.

*******

God, I am not worthy to be called your son.