Death, where is thy sting?

I don't want to break anyone's heart, but I hope you all know you're probably going to die someday.

I recently heard a Christian friend of mine say, "I just don't understand how God can allow so-and-so to get cancer." I wanted to say, do you really think certain people should be immune from the normal frailties of the flesh? Or that being a believer should mean not getting cancer, heart disease, MS, etc.? The real question is, why shouldn't he or she get cancer? Or you? Or me? Or anyone else?

Where did we get this idea that it should be disturbing when a wonderful Christian believer gets sick or dies like everyone else in the history of the human race (with a couple of Biblical exceptions)?

I think I know where we get it. Three kinds of teaching in the church: Poor teaching. Lousy teaching. And downright creepy teaching.

Here's an example. In certain Christian circles it's very common to hear talk about the Christian life as if it were a battlefield between God and the devil. Good things happen, and that's obviously attributable to God, the author of all good. Bad things happen, like serious illness, and clearly the devil is trying to get to us. The universe, in this view, is pretty clearly a dualistic place. Good vs. evil in a fight to the finish. Mankind in the middle, choosing sides.

But much trouble comes of this dualistic cosmology. For one thing, the devil is given way too much credit for the world's evil. It's as if the greatest problem we face is "the enemy." It's the devil makes us sick, causes us to lose our jobs, messes up our relationships, causes automobile accidents . . . I've heard it all. But this view makes us out to be more or less innocent victims. We wind up crying out to God (who apparently should have been protecting us better), "How could you let this happen!"

Let me go at the problem from a different angle. If the sickness and death is from an enemy who means us harm, then the greatest problem we face is that enemy. We need God to stop him in his tracks. We have a powerful assailant, so we need an even more powerful protector (God). And we call it faith when we firmly believe that it is surely that protector's will to protect us from every harm.

Therefore, whenever someone gets sick and dies, it seems a kind of failure of God's. "How could you let this happen?"

But what if our greatest problem is not "the enemy"? Or, what if, like Pogo, we have met the enemy, and he is us? What if death is really directly related to sin (Rom 6:16)? Billions of people, throughout history, sinning. You. Me. Everybody. Ever since Adam.

If the devil is our main problem, repentance is not really necessary. We're victims, that's all. The solution is to get on God's side, because He's the more powerful one, and He will protect us. To put it another way, our most pressing need, in that case, is not grace, but power. Superior Spiritual power for vigorous devil-rebuking. If only we had more power! And here good old fashioned legalism has a chance to rear its hoary head, as we study how to coax this needed thing, power over sickness and death, from an apparently somewhat uncooperative deity.

But of course our most pressing problem is not the devil, but sin. And therefore that which we most need is not superior power for fighting the devil, but grace. Again and again grace. Again and again the knowledge of Jesus and his cross, and its victory over every enemy, including death.

I want to insert here Ray Ortlund's brilliant metaphor for the process of sanctification. Read this carefully:

I think of my inner self as a globe, a world, with many dark continents still unexplored, uncivilized, vast jungles of primitive impulses. But Jesus the Liberator steps ashore on the coast of one of those continents, plants the flag of his kingdom in my consciousness and declares peace. That is justification.

Then sanctification begins. For example, it doesn't take long for a half-naked savage to run out onto the beach with spear in hand to attack Jesus. This is some selfish desire in me rising up against the King. But he declares peace all over again and subdues that aspect of me by the force of his grace. "Clothed and in his right mind" (Mark 4:15) is the picture.

The King starts moving steadily inland, planting his flag in ever new regions of my being. He brings one dark thing after another into my awareness, declares peace again and again and again, and thereby establishes civilization.

Here's my point in inserting this passage. One of the darkest regions of our interior continent is that place where we harbor our thoughts about death. Our selfish feeling that death is just not fair, and our childish fear of it, which only reveals the shallowness of our faith. We just don't want to give up this cherished complaint. We don't want to let Jesus plant his flag of grace here, for then we'd have to admit that death for us was justice after all. But Jesus will plant his flag, nevertheless. See, the wages of sin is death, but when Christ took care of sin on the cross, he took care of death. The crosswork of Christ took care of both sin and death.

I know a fellow whose ministry it is to "walk with the dying." He befriends and advocates for dying people, and he's often at their side when they pass from this world. He told me once, "Bob, there's no way to predict how someone is going to die. I've seen atheists die peacefully in their beds and lifelong Christians die in abject terror. You can never tell."

I am not foolish enough to claim to know in what way I will face my end, whether in terror or in peace. But I know how God would have me go. Giving him the glory right to the end! I hope I go out whooping and hollering like a rodeo cowboy riding Elijah's whirlwind heavenward. I pray that before my last day comes, whenever that shall be, I will have so feasted on the grace of God, day in and day out, that in the end it will be clear to all who knew me that for me, as for Paul, to die was truly gain (Phil 1:21).

Another Word about Teaching and Learning

There were many times that Jesus had compassion for people because they were sick and needed healing. But other times his compassion for people was because they were lost and had no teacher.

For example: the disciples had just returned from their first short-term mission trip. Reporting back with Jesus, they told him "all that they had done and taught." In response, Jesus takes them across the lake to "a desolate place" where they could rest up, but a large crowd follows them there. What do you suppose happens next? Well, after a while, when the day is almost done, Jesus is going to feed them all, even though there is very little food among them. That's a famous miracle of Jesus, of course. The feeding of the five thousand! But before that happens, when Jesus first sees this large crowd of people, people who had no doubt pursued him to this "desolate place" because they had heard of his miraculous healing ministry, well, Mark's account tells us this:

When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things (6:30-34).

Sheep without a shepherd are vulnerable. They need the shepherd's guidance, or they wander into dangerous places and fall prey to predators. When Jesus sees that this is the state of the people who have gathered to meet him on the shore, what does he do?

He teaches them.

I am reminded also of the two men, on the morning the Jesus' resurrection, leaving Jerusalem on the way to Emmaus. They have heard the rumors of the empty tomb, and of people having seen the risen Jesus, whom they themselves seen brutally executed only days before. They are confused, do not know what to believe, or how to interpret these events. Jesus comes to walk beside them, but they do not recognize him. If they had, they would have probably fallen on their faces before him in fear and trembling. Instead, they explain their sorrow and confusion to this man as best they can, and he proceeds to explain to them from the Scriptures the meaning of the momentous events that had just occurred. In other words:

He taught them.

Just think about that. He could have shown himself to them in such a way as to provoke their praise and worship. But for a time he veiled himself from them, the best to teach them from Scriptures that the things that happened were actually the fulfillment of Scripture. He chose to influence them through teaching about himself from the Word of God.

There are numerous examples of this kind. I only mention this to reinforce the message of the last post in this series. Teaching and learning is a profoundly important aspect of the continuing ministry of Jesus through the Holy Spirit, and by this means the lost are found, the vulnerable made safe, and the Kingdom of God flourishes in the hearts of men and women.

The Demands of Jesus #3

A word about teaching and learning. The teaching and learning relationship is one of the primary ways by which change happens in the world, and it is one of the primary ways by which the kingdom of God "comes." Piper reminds us of this in his introduction to What Jesus Demands of the World. He notes that Jesus' final instructions to the disciples was that they should go teach people. Every Christian is in this same way sent to teach, but I fear it is a mission for which we are often ill-equipped.

And yet, the kingdom comes, invisibly, inexorably, through teaching. Teaching what? Well, the disciples spent time with Jesus, absorbed his message, and in time went about repeating it. The message was, essentially, Repent, for the kingdom of God is here.

But I feel compelled to note that that message seems profoundly in need of explanation. What does it mean? Why should anyone care? Why not just be a good person and leave it at that? Such questions are an essential part of teaching and learning about the kingdom. Clearly, then, teaching and learning follows from the proclamation of the kingdom as naturally as these questions do.

In the previous post in this series I quoted Piper's saying the great challenge he faced as a teacher (in writing What Jesus Demands), was in discerning "God's way of making impossible obedience possible."

Now check this out:

Jesus said this impossible goal happens through teaching. "Make disciples . . . teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you."There is of course more to it than that--like the atoning death of Jesus (Mark 10:45) and the work of the Holy Spirit (John 14:26) and prayer (Matt. 6:13). But in the end Jesus focused on teaching. I take this to mean that God has chosen to do the impossible through the teaching of all that Jesus commanded.

When Jesus sent out the twelve disciples on their own for the first time, they simply repeated the message that Jesus had been preaching. Repent. The kingdom of God is here. In that way they initiated the process by which, person by person, the Kingdom of God salvages lives, heals souls, and fills hearts with joyous gratitude. In the coming posts in this series we will take a closer look at that simple message and its implications, but next up, we will look at the first of the commands of Jesus in Piper's list. "You must be born again."

Proclaiming and Explaining

We who have believed the good news concerning Jesus Christ--who he was and what he accomplished on our behalf--are the disciples of our day.

There were just a handful at first. Now there are many.

The term "disciple" implies learner and imitator. We learn from Jesus, and we put what we learn into practice. We follow him. This, by the way, is all by the grace of God and in the power of the Spirit, or not at all.

To make more disciples, which is the task that Jesus gave to his small group of followers, is to draw people into this kind of teacher-learner/leader-follower relationship with Jesus, and also to build up and encourage and continue to teach those who have already come into such a relationship. The church, the body of Christ, with its preachers and teachers, exists in large part to fulfill this function.

Jesus, whom the disciples often called "Teacher," proclaimed the good news to all who would listen, but in more private sessions with his disciples--that is, those who had heard and followed--he taught about the consequences and ramifications of believing the good news. These two functions correspond to the terms "preaching" and "teaching."

Note: both these functions, preaching and teaching, are closely related to the gospel message (again, who Jesus was and what he accomplished on our behalf). Preaching proclaims it, and teaching explains it.

Jesus "proclaimed" the gospel to all and sundry. Jesus tended to "explain" the gospel to those who were truly his followers. Especially, Andrew and Simon Peter, James and John, Phillip and Bartholomew, Thomas and Matthew, James (the son of Alphaeus) and Thaddeus, Simon the Cananaean, yes and even Judas Iscariot.

If you are a believer, add your name to the end of that list.

Any teaching within the church that is not consciously aimed at explaining the consequences and ramifications of the gospel as it is walked out from day to day, however Biblical that teaching may be in other ways, is of secondary importance.

To put it another way, any preaching and teaching within the church that does not consciously aim at helping people to "work out" what God has "worked in," namely the truth of his grace toward us in Jesus Christ, is a missed opportunity.

Much has to do with how we understand ourselves now that we are believers. Do we understand that we are now disciples? Not merely members of a spiritual club, not merely receivers of blessings, but followers of Jesus.