The Things that Belong to Salvation

At Hebrews 6:9 the author uses the phrase "things that belong to salvation."

I love that phrase, and am intrigued by that phrase, and am just a little troubled by that phrase. What are the things that belong to salvation?

As the author of Hebrews makes clear in the early stages of the letter, the little matter of who Christ is--what he has done, and what he is doing--spells salvation for troubled men and women in this troubled world. Death's dominion is from now on illusory. Christ has shattered its grip, and in so doing he has provided for all the opportunity to draw near to the throne of mercy and grace.

This is the key phrase of Hebrews: "draw near to the throne of grace." Why? Because, it is assumed, you're gonna need mercy and grace. You're gonna need it bad.

And the right things have happened, the right person has won the key battle and the right high priest now serves forever on our behalf, so that the multi-faceted  gift of mercy and grace is now available to God's needy children.

That's the gist of Hebrews so far. Draw near. To draw near is to enter into the spiritual rest and freedom from fear that is God's provision for his troubled people.

Then, in chapter 6, the author uses this phrase that has been haunting me for the last few days:

"things that belong to salvation."

I would suggest that "the things that belong to salvation" refers to the things that characterize, to one degree or another, the lives of those who have been saved. That is, those who have trusted Jesus' good news and so drawn near to the throne of grace.

I'm going to cherry-pick a couple things from this part of Hebrews (chapters 5 to 7) that might qualify for the list:

1. the power of discernment to distinguish good from evil (5:14)
2. love and service in God's name (6:10)
3. a taste of the power of the age to come (6:5)

If you think about it, that little list sums up a lot of the promises that God has made to his people. Even in the midst of our troubles--especially in the midst of trouble--God will equip us with these things. But it's worth noting that this is a corporate promise, or a promise to a body of believers, and thus is experienced most fully among believers who are sharing their lives with one another.

In other words, the things that belong to salvation belong to life together.

Cat Stevens Joins the Conversation

I'm thinking about Hebrews 4:16 this morning, and for some reason it put me in mind of this old song from Cat Stevens:



I love Cat.

My Faith Walk . . . for now

It's Sunday morning, and a part of me is thinking about church. A big part of me. Not that I'm actually longing to find a church. Not that I'm actually hoping to routinely atend a big fancy auditorium where we all sit in rows and listen to some guy I don't know talk for 45 minutes. Every Sunday. No, but it is Sunday after all, and for eighteen years or so that meant a visit to the fancy auditorium, and sitting in rows, etc.

Someone asked me last week why I wasn't "going to church." I gave my shorthand answer. I said, "I'm looking for a church that's at least as Jesusy as the New Testament."

All this is apropos of The Letter to the Hebrews. I've been reading it now for a coupla-three weeks (that's Maine-speak, people). That "letter" is generally believed to be the text of a sermon. The ESV Study Bible says this:

The genre of Hebrews is unusual. The book is without an introduction or other early indications that it is a letter. Yet the final verses do pass on greetings and blessings (13:23–25), and the author speaks of having “written to you” (13:22). However, the author also identifies his work as a “word of exhortation” (13:22). The careful rhetorical progression of the book, along with its frequent practical exhortations, has led many to consider it a single sermon. Perhaps Hebrews is best understood as a sermonic letter.

But the point is, every sip of this rich brew is intensely Jesusy. Intensely Jesusy. Sip it yourself and see. The trick then is to find that same flavor in the church today. It just shouldn't be as rare as it seems to be. Know what I'm sayin'?

But back to not being in church and all that. It's not that I'm satisfied with my current lone-wolfism. Another person I talked to not long ago asked me what church I was attending these days, and when I told him I wasn't, answered rather imperiously, "May I direct your attention to Hebrews 10:25?" That's the part that says don't neglect meeting together and encouraging one another. Yup, I sure want that one another thing. But if church on Sunday morning is the best we can do, we're in trouble. On the other hand, I want to hang with fellow-believers and be knit together with them. I want a band of brothers, a tribe, a family. Well, what I really want is what Bonhoeffer described in Life Together. And I'm pretty unconvinced that collecting up a bunch of people from across the region to come together in an auditorium once a week to listen to some music and a speech (lesson, sermon, exhortation) by a guy we don't really know and then going our separate ways for the rest of the week is ever going to be the venue for life together. I've just about given up on that.

Michael Spencer in Mere Churchianity said there were many like me. Ian Michael Cron wonders if it's a new Christian diaspora. The conversation in the comments section of that post is very interesting too.

The danger for all of us, whether in the church or in "exile," is that we find ourselves one day having put our faith in many things, but not in Jesus. This is always the danger. Idols. Idols of the heart. Idols of the mind. And "proud towers" to house them in. And Jesus once again standing outside, knocking. Laodicea all over again (Rev 3:14-22).

[BTW, Glynn Young has collected some links to similar discussions here. Note also this post from at Public Christianity.]

The Power of an Indestructible Life

My friend and fellow-blogger Abraham makes a good point in his recent post. Things are not as they seem.Quoting the great songwriter Mark Heard:

“We can laugh and we can cry
And never see the strong hand of love hidden in the shadows
We can dance and we can sigh
And never see the strong hand of love hidden in the shadows.”

~ Mark Heard, Strong Hand of Love

This is a rather strong theme in the Bible. I'm thinking of Paul's words in Colossians:

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. (Colossians 3:1-4 ESV)

See that? Your life is hidden with Christ in God! Things are not as they seem. Indestructible Jesus is our guarantee of this (Heb 7:16, 7:22). In some crazy indecipherable way, my life is hidden with Jesus in God. Not this visible, apparent so-called life, but the life that is a part of God's ultimate purpose for his creation. I do not see it yet. And yet, even now it springs up! (Isaiah 43:19)

This is of course a matter of faith. Un-faith says, "No, things are always exactly what they seem, and always will be so. Be realistic!" But faith speaks of an alternative reality.

Things are not as they seem. I am not what I seem. And you, yes you, are not what you seem. Something is going on behind the scenes, something is stirring, something is coming to pass. Remember Isaiah:

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? (Isaiah 43:19 NLT)

It takes eyes of faith to see the hidden things. My life is hidden with Christ in God, Paul says, and the author of Hebrews (yes, we are back to Hebrews now) speaks also of the hiddenness of Christ with God. Christ has gone into the inner place, the place where only the high priest can go. Christ is that high priest, forever, and the "inner place" is the presence of God. Where, according to the testimony of the Scriptures, Christ sits at God's right hand, in the place of privilege and honor and intimacy. He's an anchor to our soul there. We're permanently connected, through him. Through him, we can "draw near." Without the anchor, we're going to be blown out to sea or shattered on some rocky coast. As it is we're buffeted, we're tossed about, but praise be to God, we're anchored. Things are not as they seem.

We have to remember this. That's my advice. Remember. Don't make assumptions. Don't judge, because when you judge, you're presuming you know how things are, the whole story, how everything turns out for the other person, and therefore you can pass judgement, you can call the winner the winner, the loser the loser. It's a terrible failure to hope! It's a terrible failure of faith.

All week I've been reading through chapters 5 to 7 of Hebrews. And this is what it's got me thinking on. Things are not as they seem. But that is not to say that it is not possible now to taste of "the powers of the age to come" (Heb 6:5). It is. Nevertheless, the age to come is "to come." It is not here, it is not now. Still, there was one who walked among us, one who set aside power and privilege--making himself nothing--one who died among us, who conquered death here in the very stronghold of death, and then entered into the inner place, the Holy Sanctuary where God is. That would be Jesus. The anchor of our buffeted souls. Through him, who is possessor of an indestructible life, God is bringing to pass his unchangeable purpose.

Key words: indestructible, unchangeable, anchor, hope.

Things are not as they seem. Death seem to reign. It does not. It's power has been broken. The dawn is coming. Do you not see it? Even now it springs up!

Just checking in

So I'm still here. Still reading Hebrews every day. Loving that. Also, soaking in the Autumn. Lovely season. "Mellow fruitfulness." Was there ever a better phrase for it? Thank you, Mr. Keats. Meanwhile, son Nate was with us for a while, but is now off to Vermont to paint his Aunt and Uncle's house. Then's he going to join his friend from NC on last leg of the AT. After that we're all packing up and heading to Indiana for the other son's marriage in a coupla weeks. That's the story here. Seeya soon!

So Great a Jesus: A Summary of the First Four Chapters of Hebrews

[I always feel I have to explain these posts on the Letter to the Hebrews. My way of reading Scripture is to read and reread a passage, and then re-state it in various ways. I am a firm believer in this re-stating of Scripture. I do this for myself, primarily, as a way of imbibing these truths of God more deeply. It involves much repetition, and much going over of familiar ground, so I can understand why it may not necessarily be all that enlightening for others. Still, I put the process on display here at WF, just in case someone might be helped by it. What follows is simply a summary in my own words of the first four chapters.]

God has spoken to us through his Son. He has done this through what his Son taught, and through how his Son lived; in other words, through everything his Son said and did. The "message" of the Gospel, the good news for a fear-burdened people facing death on all sides, is just this: all that God's Son, Jesus, said and did. We must pay closer attention.

Remember the Israelites. They followed Moses, who spoke for God, in search of the promised land. But often their trust ran out. Their trust ran out by the side of the Red Sea, with Pharoah's army bearing down. their trust ran out in the desert, where they feared starvation. Their trust ran out even at the brink of the promised land, when they heard the stories about "giants in the land." In all these cases their fear of death conquered their trust in God, despite his many miraculous interventions on their behalf.

The author of Hebrews put is this way: he says their fear of death caused them to harden their hearts. Hardening their hearts equates to not trusting God and therefore not listening to God and therefore disobeying God (even despite all that He's done and all that He's promised). This fear of death causes them to harden their hearts, not hear the message of God, and "fall away" from the calling to which they have been called. Which is to say, their destiny of rest.

The people of God always face this same problem. The fear of death causing unrest, leading them away from their promised land destiny, and leading instead to all kinds of restlessness. What comes of this are things like bitterness, loneliness, anxiety, harshness, frenzy, and an ever deepening and devastating hardness of heart.

Therefore, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.

A lot depends, therefore, on paying attention to the message spoken to us by one greater than Moses, through signs greater even than those witnessed by the Israelites in the desert. Pay attention to this message. Lean on it. Live in it. The message is a promise of rest, through Jesus.

We share in a heavenly calling, but we walk through a desert. There will always be the temptation not to trust God, but to lean instead on some frail reed. Fortunately, Jesus, whose very name is salvation, and who was tempted in every way, and having won every battle and defeated death, is able to help us when we, through fear of death, are tempted. He is our hope. He is our rest.

All of God's promises are summed up in Jesus, our rest. Rest is associated with fulfillment, but even though we do not see the fulfillment of all God's promises just yet, we can have a foretaste of all that the Kingdom of God shall be, and "rest" is as good a word for that as any. Therefore,

Today, of you hear his voice [that is, the message of Jesus: all that he taught and all that he did], do not harden your hearts.

In other words, listen. Pay attention. See. Hear. Taste. Stand in awe.

Finally, a warning. "The word of God is living and active." Think of this phrase, "word of God," as a kind of stand-in for God all that God is and all that he does. The ESV Study Bible note puts it this way:

Usually this phrase in Hebrews refers to the message of salvation (13:7; cf. 4:2), but here the “word” is pictured as God's personal utterance, living, active, sharp, piercing, and discerning (v. 12), with eyes that expose (v. 13). The Word of God then acts as God himself, so that one's innermost thoughts and intentions are exposed. This happens constantly in Christians' lives.

Do not harden your hearts, as if to fend off the piercing and discerning action of God. This surgery won't kill you. Better yet, pay closer attention to all that He has been for you, all that He is for you, all that He shall be for you. His name is Yeshua, which means "salvation." Do not neglect so great a salvation.

This is our God . . .

So I'm still processing the early chapters of Hebrews. To tell you the truth, reading and rereading these chapters has been like giving my faith a shot of adrenalin. I think I'm experiencing a little personal revival here!

I've been saying in my series of posts on church visits that I'm just looking for something "Jesusy." Admittedly, I stole that term from Jared Wilson (at least I think that's who I stole it from). Anyway, it's a term of convenience. If you want to see an example of preaching that is Jesusy, read Hebrews for one. The author always explicitly ties his imperatives (what we should do) to our understanding of who Jesus is and what he has done, and later, as we shall see, to "drawing near" to him in faith. The author is wearing Jesus-colored glasses. His exhortations are anchored in the revelation of Jesus Christ.

So what I'm going to do now, for my own good as well as yours (I hope), is list out what the author says about Jesus (all in the first two chapters), and then, in a separate list, seven imperatives (some plainly stated, some strongly implied, and all coming in the third chapter of the letter). So, first, what's all this talk about Jesus?

• God, who long ago spoke to us by the prophets of old, has now spoken to us by his Son, Jesus
• He appointed Jesus to be heir of all things (all creation)
• and in fact through Jesus he created all things
• Jesus is the radiance of the glory of God
• and the exact imprint of the Father's nature
• Jesus upholds the universe by the word of his power (!)
• He made purification for sin
• and sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high
• above all things, including even the angels, who worship him
• and reigns triumphantly with a scepter of righteousness
• making his enemies his footstool

All this is from chapter one.  This is what the writer is talking about when he says, at the start of chapter two, that we should all pay much closer attention to what we have heard (this grand and high message about Jesus), lest we drift away.  Not to pay close attention is to neglect our salvation, which no one should ever do.

But what does chapter two say about Jesus (for the author is not done emphasizing Jesus)?

• he is the founder of our salvation (the salvation we shouldn't "neglect")
• he was crowned with glory and honor because of his suffering and death
• in fact, he was made perfect through suffering
• tasting death for (in the place of) everyone (!)
• By doing so he thus brings many sons (and daughters) to glory

Note: the One who is crowned with glory brings many to share in that glory.  How?  By dying for them.

• Thus, he is not ashamed of us.  Not ashamed to call us brothers and sisters (!)
• he partook of mortality, sharing our flesh and blood existence
• so that by dying for us he might destroy the devil, who holds sway over us by the power of death, keeping us in constant subjection to the fear of death
• but he has freed us from that lifelong slavery
• all this that Jesus has done may be summed up in this word-picture: Jesus is our merciful high priest, making propitiation for our sin by the sacrifice of himself
• and now, from his throne on high, having suffered temptation as a man, he is able to help those who are tempted.  

Okay, all that is in chapter two.  There you have most of what the author of Hebrews says about Jesus in the first two chapters.  Amazing, no?  His shorthand term for all this is "salvation."  Elsewhere it is called "the good news."  I would say it is the playing out of the grand design of God to restore creation, which has been marred by sin, and to retrieve his lost children from the grip of death, at unfathomable expense to himself.  

Now, in chapter three I count at least seven distinct imperatives (whether stated or implied), that hinge on all this that has been said about Jesus.  Here they are:

• Therefore, we who share in a heavenly calling, should consider (set our minds on) Jesus (3:1)
• We should hold fast to our confidence, our boasting, our hope (in Him) (3:6)
• We should not harden our hearts (3:8)
• We should take care, lest there remain in our hearts elements of unbelief, leading us to fall away (3:12)
• Since sin is so deceitful, we need to exhort (encourage) one another every day (3:13)
• We should hold on to the confidence we placed in Jesus at the start, right to the very end (3:14)
• and finally, repeating a theme, we should not harden our hearts (3:15)

There you have, in list format, the first three chapters of Hebrews.  You can see that these foundational imperatives from chapter three, which in some fashion the rest of the letter will explicate, all have to do with hearts and minds.  Set your mind on Jesus, and don't let your hearts be hardened.  It seems that faithful walking begins (flows from) within.  But it all begins and ends with Jesus!

Three by Viola, and the Sinking of the Whaleship Essex

I just received a precious payload of three Frank Viola books in the mail. They are Pagan Christianity, Reimagining Church, and From Eternity to Here.

These are all books I've been wanting to read since I first heard of them. Much ado was made over Pagan Christianity when it first came out a couple of years ago, as I recall. Viola can be controversial, but I always find he writes with insight and also grace.

While I'm on the subject of books, I've been reading Nathaniel Philbrick's In the Heart of the Sea. Man this is one corker of a story. The true and hard-to-believe tale of a the wreck of the Whaleship Essex in 1819. You ever wonder what was the worst occupation in human history? Working on a whaleship in 1819 might just fit the bill.

Mid-week Music

Mary Gauthier

Church Visit #3

I went to church again this past Sunday.

I have this notion I ought to visit all the churches in my neighborhood, which I define as within, say, a fifteen minute walk.

So this Sunday I visited the nearest church. Maybe a three minute walk from my house.

Now, the first couple of visits in this little series have been pleasant enough, but the preaching confirmed a maxim of Brian Chappell's. He says that much modern evangelical preaching falls into two categories: 1) what you should know, and 2) what you should do. It is possible to preach such sermons in a Christ-centered manner, but this seems to be a difficult matter for many.

Well, in my first church-visit I heard a what-you-should-know sermon, and in my second visit I heard a what-you-should-do sermon. Both churches were cheerful places with friendly people and in both cases I enjoyed the music, but the sermons frustrated me.

I'm just looking for a Jesusy church, that's all.

Now, this week's church was the liturgical kind. Vestments. Processions. A very ceremonial form of communion. Also, most of the folks here were solemn, reverential, so there were no hearty greetings, no hands to shake and names to try to remember. Only the occasional furtive glance at the stranger in their midst.

Oh, I'll just come right out and say it . . . this was a Roman Catholic church.

Early Sunday morning, before deciding just what to do with myself (which church to go to, if any), I read Ted Gossard's post quoting Miroslav Volf. It seems that Volf was frustrated in the same way that I have been, and his response was to repair to a "Eucharist-centered" church.

With this in mind, I walked down the street to the local Catholic establishment. They meet in a big high-ceilinged space with beautiful artwork on the walls and a hymn-singing choir that sounds like angels. We sang Shall We Gather at the River, Precious Lord, and I Know that My Redeemer Lives. I was lovin' it!

And here's the thing. It was one of the most Jesusy church experiences I've had in years.

There were readings of extended passages of Scripture, and almost no sermon at all, but for a brief talk concerning a couple of the parables of Jesus (the lost sheep, the lost coins). The priest said, "The sheep doesn't have to prove itself worthy before the Shepherd will rescue, and the lost coin doesn't even have to cry out for mercy in order to be found. In fact, the coin can't cry out at all, but the woman searches relentlessly till she finds it."

Ummm, I hate to admit it (kind of), but that's more Gospel than I've heard in my two evangelical church visits combined.

Now, look, I'm not planning to "swim the Tiber" or anything like that. But as a confirmed evangelical, with charismatic leanings, I find it kind of embarrassing that a Catholic church beats us hands-down at preaching the Gospel, and without a 45-minute lecture, too!

That, plus the incredible choir, plus the beautiful and reverent space in which they meet (not to mention the three-minute walk), means I may be attending this church again from time to time.

Consider Jesus

Reading and rereading the letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament. I want to emphasize that I'm not setting myself up as a teacher here. I'm just interacting with the text, as they say. In other words, reading it. Over and over. And reflecting here at WF what it's seeming to mean. Mixing in those thoughts and observations of my own that the text seems to inspire. You might find that interesting, or it might spur you on to read your own selected text in the same ruminative way (which can be productive), or you might consider it all a vast waste of time. But what I'm trying to say is, I'm not trying to teach here. I'm trying to show.

In the first couple of posts in this series I've been looking at Hebrews 2:1, which contains this imperative: "We must pay closer attention to what we've heard."

We have all experienced the way in which a message that we once found very moving, even "life changing," such as the message "I love you," a message that sounded like music to us once, can quite suddenly sound like dissonant clanging, or like nothing at all, like silence. Not because the message has changed, but because our hearing has changed. Our attentiveness or sensitivity. People begin to ask, "Are you listening?" And you answer, "Of course I'm listening." But you're not. It happens all the time.

This is the dire predicament we all find ourselves in, I think. Things seem to grow stale to our ears. To diminish. Some folks have put it this way: our hearts grow hard. It happened to the folks who followed Moses in the desert. It happened to the kings of ancient Israel. Throughout the four Gospels of the New Testament you can find people with hard hearts (who cannot seem to hear, like Pontius Pilate, or Judas) and people with soft hearts who seem to pay attention at the crucial moment (like the woman at the well). The author of the letter to the Hebrews seemed to pinpoint this problem and address it directly. He said, "We've got to pay closer attention to what we've heard." And then, in the passage that follows, occupying the rest of chapter 2, you get the meat of that message. you get the what in "what we have heard." Go to your dog-eared Bible and read it for yourself, and then come back here.

Are you back? Okay, as you now know, it's all about Jesus. Hebrews is a very Jesus-rich letter. Jesus, who is eternal, who is God, who created everything and to whom someday the whole world will be subjected. Him. Who made himself to share in flesh and blood mortality, so that in doing so he might bear the brunt of sin's penalty, and thereby usher us into his family, calling us brothers and sisters forever. And now from his seat in heaven, having walked our walk, he helps us. He helps us! And the author writes:

Therefore, holy brothers, you who share in a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession. (Hebrews 3:1 ESV)

Ah, another imperative. Much like the first one. The first one was, "pay attention to what you heard." Now there's this. "Consider Jesus."

Consider Jesus. Read Hebrews 2:5-18 over again, or read Philippians 2:5 and following, or read Colossians 1:15-20, or read the high priestly prayer of Jesus (John 17), or read Luke 23:44-49, or peruse John's vision of Jesus in Revelation 1. Read these or any other you can think of, and consider Jesus.

Consider who he is. Consider what he has done. Consider what he is doing now. Consider that this world, the one we walk around in, so beautiful and yet so appalling, will someday be subject entirely to his will, which will feel like the embrace of perfect love, forever. Pay attention. Consider. Set your mind on. Jesus.

Texas Roadhouse Hymnody

I'm going for a music post this time. I found a band that reminds me of The Band. Deadman. From Texas of course, where about half the good music in America comes from. Rock & Roll with a rootsy Biblical flavor, like some possibly drunken prophet in a roadhouse on a Saturday night.







And my favorite:



Really I love these guys. Listen to more here.

More Ruminating on Hebrews 2

At Hebrews 2:1 we find the first imperative of the letter.

Therefore, pay closer attention to what you've heard, lest you drift away from it.

Now, you've probably heard or read that in the Bible the imperatives (what we should do) always follow from indicatives (about God and what God has done). In this case, there are indicatives about Jesus, stated just prior to this passage, from which follow this imperative. In chapter one the author shows (indicates) the supremacy of Christ. Christ is enthroned on high. Christ is eternal. Christ is greater than angels. And then comes the "therefore":

pay closer attention to what you've heard.

Otherwise:

you might drift away.

I like to ask the simple questions when I read the Scriptures. Like: what does he mean by "what we've heard"? And: how is it we can drift away from what we've heard?

Answer to the first question (methinks): the message we heard about Jesus. It is uniquely important.

Answer to the second question: I'm not sure. But I'm put in mind of something Jesus said (through the apostle John) to the church at Sardis(in The Revelation):

“And to the angel of the church in Sardis write: ‘The words of him who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. “‘I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you. (Revelation 3:1-3 ESV)

Note again, the indicative (about Jesus) comes first (as in all the letters to the seven churches), and then the imperative. The imperative here is essentially the same as in Hebrews:

Remember, then, what you received and heard.

See? As in the Letter to the Hebrews, behavior . . . walking the walk . . . begins with remembering a message, and not drifting away from that message. The whole Bible unpacks that message for us, but at it's core there stands One who holds stars in the palm of His hand. Imagine that.

Ruminating on Scripture: Hebrews 2

So I've been reading The Letter to the Hebrews lately. Well, the first few chapters, over and over. Sometimes, when you read through something, you just know you're not getting everything you could out of the passage. You're not seeing the stitches on the ball, as it were.

Me, I'm a little rusty when it comes to Bible reading. I know I'm not supposed to admit this, but I haven't been "in the Word" lately. Since it's the richest reading material I know, that just shouldn't be. My bad.

So I've begun reading Hebrews. I figure I'll just keep reading the first few chapters until I get it. Of course the first chapter of Hebrews amounts to an over-the-top hymn of praise for Jesus. I'm not going to repeat all that, because you can read it yourself, and it's pretty straightforward. Where the question comes in for me is at the start of chapter two:

Therefore [i.e., given everything he's just said about Jesus] we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. For since the message declared by angels proved to be reliable, and every transgression or disobedience received a just retribution, how shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? It was declared at first by the Lord, and it was attested to us by those who heard, while God also bore witness by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will. (Hebrews 2:1-4 ESV)

When I read this, I get that tingly feeling like when I read a wonderful poem, or hear a beautiful song. The author seems to be opening the door on something spacious and beautiful. He calls it, "so great a salvation."

That phrase, those four words, kind of stir my blood. What is he talking about there? Now, I'm a Christian, and I can tell you what "salvation" means, but just now I want to know what it means in the context of the letter in hand, the letter to the Hebrews. What does the author of this letter mean by "salvation"?

One thing I see in the passage above is that neglecting this great salvation is set against paying close attention to what we've heard. We've heard something, but it's something we need to pay close attention to, for to neglect it, to pay no attention, or to live as if we'd never heard it, would be to neglect "so great a salvation." Do you see? Whatever salvation means, it is very closely associated with "what we have heard."

You might think that's a pretty routine insight, but it does something for me. There is something I've heard, and having heard it, it won my heart. It affected me. But there's also a possibility, perhaps a strong tendency, to forget what I've heard, or to pay less attention to it, or to neglect it. That would be to neglect my salvation.

There's something to chew on here. A message can save you. But a message can also go unheeded. In this context, the message is clearly about Jesus, or perhaps from Jesus. I wonder how it is we who have once paid great heed to that message, can soon enough come to a place where a friend might have to say, you'd better stop neglecting that message, the one you once heeded so well. Stop neglecting your salvation.

I'm still not sure I fully understand this, but I think the passage to follow will surely help. However, that's for another ruminative post.

We break for Clapton . . .

Eric Clapton. He really is the King of the Strat. I love the passion he brings to everything he does, and the sheer joy of music-making he demonstrates every time he steps on stage. And I admire his ensemble-ethic, rare in the world of rock stardom.

Work-Ethic or Rest-Ethic

Wonderful article from Paul Trip over at Desiring God, called Real Lasting Rest.

It's a good piece, and it got me thinking. I've been reading and re-reading the first few chapters of Hebrews this week, and of course rest is a theme there as well.

I take rest to be one of those things that we can taste now, even though not in the fullness that we will one day enjoy it. It's a now and not yet kind of thing. The ESV Study Bible, in its comments on Hebrews 4:1-13, puts it this way:

Although some believe [the author of Hebrews] has in view either an entirely present or an entirely future rest, the following section makes most sense if the rest is understood as already inaugurated but awaiting consummation. He looks primarily to the future, as indicated by the need to continue striving to enter this rest (Heb. 4:1, 11, 14) and by the promise of a cessation from the struggles of this life (Heb. 4:9–10). Yet there remains a sense in which that future rest touches the experience of this life (hence “today,” Heb. 4:7).

Now, I make no pretense about always having a heart at rest, enjoying the love of the Father from moment to moment. Nope. Not me. And at heart, as Hebrews teaches, it's a trust issue. We have no rest--no rest from shame, no rest from guilt, no rest from fear, no rest from anxiety about the future, no rest from hopeless striving--because our faith is weak.

I'll have more to say on this, but for now here's a snarky aside to finish with. Why is there so little rest, so much anxiety, in our churches? Why so much emotional pendulum-swinging from boisterous faith to deep despair? Is it because our teachers fear to deliver a message of rest, rather than a message of work? Oh, they're careful to affirm the faith-alone message of the Reformation in theory, but in practice they often have a work-ethic rather than a rest-ethic.

Just sayin' . . .

What is organic church?

Over the past year, as I've cast about for an articulation of church that moved beyond mere critique, I have found the thinking of Frank Viola and the concept of organic church very helpful. In this interview, he and Neil Cole answer the question, what is organic church? This is longish (for a blogpost) but interesting read.

Update: Now I see that Viola has re-posted the whole interview at his blog (in a somewhat more readable format).

On Preaching an MIA Jesus

Well, I went to church again yesterday. Another neighborhood church, walking distance. A quiet, unobtrusive structure, maybe early 60s suburban church style architecture, not much bigger than the houses that surround it. Inside, there were only about 25 in attendance, mostly 50 and older. The church has no pastor these days, but I was moved by the way they carried on, serving one another in humility and grace. They sang together without instrumentation at all, and then they shared their prayer needs. There was a quietness and a humility about all this that impressed me.

Now, I want to say that I am just a guy visiting churches now and then. I have a long history with churches, and have been an active member for many years, but right now I'm just, on occasional Sundays, visiting. In fact, I've kind of developed this notion that I ought to attend every church in my neighborhood (defined by me as within the radius of a 20 minute walk) at least once. I have no desire to be some sort of visiting critic, but I do have this one hobby-horse: I want to hear Christ preached, and the good news about what he's done, and what he is doing. And I'm always startled to find preachers missing their opportunity!

Now, the sermon yesterday was given by one of the elders (the only man in the place who wore a white shirt and tie). It was carefully planned, well-written, and well-spoken. I have absolutely no desire to heap obloquy on this guy. But let me just share with you the essence of his sermon:

He was preaching on Exodus 19, which he read in its entirety. This is where the Lord on Mt. Sinai renews his covenant with Moses, and through Moses with the people of Israel. If the people will obey all of His commands and be obedient, He will bless them as a nation, and they will mediate God to the rest of the world.

Now this portion of the sermon was filled with background information of the kind you might find in a Bible encyclopedia--the whereabouts of Mt. Sinai, the nature of ancient Middle-Eastern covenants, etc. But eventually the preacher got around to drawing the inevitable parallels between Israel in the desert and God's people today. God's people today are also a covenant people. A covenant is a contract. If God's people today will only obey God, they will mediate God to a waiting world. That's the contract. No, it is not a matter "unto salvation," but a matter of fulfilling our purpose as God's covenant people. So the question that he ended with is this: how are you doing with your end of the contract?

Is this not astonishing? How comfortable we all seem to be with a contractual arrangement, a bargain, in which God does his part, and we do ours. How difficult it is for us to grasp that Christ is the fulfillment of the law and what that means. In answer to the gentleman's question, I can tell you how I'm doing with my end of the covenant: imperfectly. This is the starting place at which Jesus always begins to preach the good news of the Kingdom! This gentleman, God bless him anyway, preached a messiah-less Christianity!

Well, that's two local-church visits, and two Jesus-MIA sermons. In one we heard about what we should know, and another about what we should do. These, Byran Chapell says, are the two most common alternatives to a gospel sermon. Anyway, I came home yesterday determined to re-read Hebrews, especially the portion about Jesus as a better Moses. Think I'll go do that now.

September Poem

Yes, I’m ready for September.
I’m ready for a sudden and not unpleasant chill in the air,
and the feel of long sleeves, the feel of wool,
the feel of leaves beneath your feet
and the sound of them,
and the lonely sound of the last cicada,
and the changed sound of the birds,
and the way that even the sound, say, of a child’s swing,
seven backyards away,
and of the child’s brilliant laughter,
seems altered somehow, seems now,
as cummings said, far and wee,
as if all the auditory world
had undergone a strange and secret shift,
or as if all these common sounds that through the summer
had been set against a backdrop of orchestral brass,
are now set against a backdrop of nearly inaudible strings,
playing something from Vivaldi, say,
so that every note takes on a new and chastened character,
the texture and feel of the word village,
or of the word forest,
or of the word
farewell.

Cather, Aiken, Tolkien, Mallonee, Morrison

Lately I've been alternating between reading older novels, from past generations, and then something contemporary. The contemporary things have been fairly unsatisfying in the end, although full of promise at the start. The older books have been thoroughly enjoyable.

In the "older book" category is the one I've just begun, Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop. Cather was a real craftsman with words, describing natural things beautifully, and loving her characters. I think her My Antonia is on of the finest novels I've ever read.

Speaking of reading older books, my sweetheart just finished Joan Aiken's The Whispering Mountain. She loved it and thought I would too, so guess what's on the top of my to-read pile! She says it reminded her somehow of The Hobbit, which she now plans to reread. Apropos of which, here's a pretty fascinating clip from a 1969 BBC video on Tolkien. His work had only recently become a publishing phenomenon at that point.

[HT: Jim Skaggs]

Apropos of nothing, I just read an interview with Bill Mallonee, who is most well-known for heading up the band Vigilantes of Love (one of my faves). Mallonee might have been the original hipster-Calvinist (or something like that), but he's Roman Catholic now, and has a very interesting perspective on the Evangelical interaction with art and culture. This is a really interesting interview because Mallonee is clearly struggling with a degree of bitterness. Well, honesty has always been one his strengths as a songwriter, I think. Anyway, here's a long excerpt from the interview, where he talks about his dissatisfaction with "bookstore Christianity," which is a label that I'm sure will be a fixture in my vocabulary from now on!

I don’t know. It seems like, by the time you’re 30 years old, you ought to know that the stuff in your skin is pretty inconsistent. I think there’s a tendency, my wife and I talk about this a lot, I think there’s a tendency for spirituality that comes out of the, well, let’s just call it “Bookstore Christianity,” the contemporary Christian bookstore mentality, there’s, to my mind anyway, there’s an element of being taught to walk in sort of a spiritual denial of what goes on under your skin. Or, you’re told that you really can have this victorious life where you sort of walk on water and you can rise above it all. My experience hasn’t been that way. I don’t know what the English play is, but “we’re not made of very stern stuff.” That theme has been underlying all of my music from the beginning.

I’m not saying it doesn’t work, I’m just saying I’m a poor specimen. Even though I believe in a historic resurrection, the power of the Cross and I’m glad when people find that bigger, higher life, but my attitude is that for some, you know what, it might just be a season. You have no idea where you’re going to be in 3 years, 5 years, and if you haven’t been tested, you really don’t know what’s under your skin. So much of CCM seems to be about insulating itself from the real struggles that people have. That’s what bothers me the most about it. It’s like when you put people in a room and you give them a buzz line to speak and some stranger walks in and they have no idea what they’re talking about. They culturally cut themselves off with this buzz language and they put it in their music and they put in their books and in their movies and the people who are starving for truth and starving for meaning and contact with God, they don’t get it. They feel like they can’t measure up, or they feel like it’s just bizarre.

Oh, man, that is so sadly true, and the thing is, after a while it's hard not to be dismissive, not to tune out the people who walk around with the buzz words on their lips. What I'd like to say to Bookstore Christianity is, "Oh, please, just stop! Just go away!"

There, now that I've got that off my chest....

It's Labor Day weekend, so I'm going up on Cripple Creek, which is a place where you don't do a lick of work and your best friend is a good woman and you have a few beers and maybe there's a caravan "painted wet and white" out there among the trees:

Assorted This and That

Dane Ortlund asked a lot of interesting people this question: What is the key to healthy Christian growth in Godliness? I really enjoyed reading the answers. Perhaps if we got all these people in a room and asked them the question, there might be some "Godly" contention, since the answers are fairly wide-ranging. Personally, at the moment anyway, I think Joe Thorn's answer is the one that resonates in my own heart:

I believe the key to healthy growth in godliness is the cultivation and exercise of Scripture-saturated prayer by which we express and experience our dependence on, joy in, and work through Jesus Christ.

But you should read the others. It's a great post.

***

Jeff Dunn lists his five favorite non-fiction books (along with some honorable mentions) over at Internet Monk (which should really be "Monks" these days, but whatever). It's an interesting list, not the usual necklace of literary icons you get when Christian bloggers tell you about their favorite books. Reading widely is a good thing!

***

Ray Ortlund. Go to his blog, start at the top, and begin reading. No other blogger will repay you with more Gospel-drenched wisdom, more consistently, than Ray.

***

Frank Viola is also one blogger that merits frequent visits. Viola seems to be a tad controversial for his support of the "organic church" (as opposed to the "institutional church"). I have not studied this issue in depth, and I definitely shy away from dissing the so-called IC altogeher, but Viola makes a lot of sense to me. This post features a book review not by Frank but by by Jon Zens. In the course of the review he asks several Viola-like questions which I too have often asked myself.

By the way, I intend to read more of Frank's published work soon. Jesus Manifesto is outstanding.

***

Finally, a few recently discovered bloggers among my "Assorted Jesus Fools" bloglist:

Matt Redmond of Scribio Facio Noto

Brent Thomas of Holiday at the Sea

Ross Rohde (I think that's his name) of thejesusvirus.

Michael Kelley of Forward Progress.