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Scripture on Sundays – James 1:3

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Saint_James_the_JustJames 1:3
Knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance (NASB)

In this verse, James provides the first rationale for his command in verse two. Believers are to “consider it all joy” when they fall into various trials because they know (ginōskontes hoti) something: that the trial of their faith produces endurance. James assumes this knowledge on the part of his listeners, as though it constitutes a common stock of knowledge generally available. The word James uses to refer to the testing (to dokimion) of their faith is rare in the Greek, appearing elsewhere only in Psalm 12:6, Proverbs 27:21 (Septuagint), and in 1 Peter 1:7. The Old Testament references provide useful imagery for understanding the nature of trials. As a furnace is used to refine and purify silver, so the tests faced by James’ hearers serve also to  “refine” and “purify” them. The imagery of the furnace captures the unpleasant and potentially destructive force and nature of the testing, while the result of the process is seen as valuable and desirable and so as the grounds for rejoicing.

What is being tested is their faith. According to Vlachos, the trial is intended to refine and strengthen a faith that already exists rather than to test whether faith is present or not (18). This idea seems to align with Peter’s use of the same language in 1 Peter 1:6-7 where he speaks of the suffering believers’ faith being proved or shown to be genuine (dokimion). Indeed, many commentators suggest that the purpose of the test is the purification and maturity of the believer (e.g. McKnight, 69, and Moo, 61). In this view, God is the refiner who places his people into the furnace in order to remove the impurities from their lives and so present them as mature.

Nevertheless it is important here to distinguish between purpose and effect when interpreting these verses. It is at least possible that in James’ mind the purpose of the tests is to destroy the faith of God’s people. This is a quite common mindset in the New Testament, and sees the origin of the tests in the more sinister agency of Satan, the “accuser of the brethren” (Revelation 12:10), rather than in the more benevolent attentions of God. Perhaps more directly relevant to this passage is Paul’s concern in 1 Thessalonians 3:5 that “the tempter” (ho peirazōv) might have rendered his missionary labour amongst the Thessalonians vain by the persecutions they endured, or Jesus’ words to Peter in Luke 22:31-32: “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.” In both cases the blowtorch is applied to the believers’ faith with the intent of destroying it, and in both cases there is the theoretical possibility at least, that their faith might actually be lost. Other texts might also be adduced. Jesus warns that “Satan comes immediately” to take away the Word whenever it is sown (Mark 4:15; cf. 2 Corinthians 11:3). The pattern is seen in his own temptations following his experience of the Spirit at his baptism (Luke 4:1-13). The apostle Peter speaks of “your adversary the devil” who prowls around like a roaring lion seeking those whom he may devour. Nor are Peter’s readers unique in this respect: all believers are subject to this common suffering and must likewise stand firm in faith, resisting the devil (1 Peter 5:8-9; cf. James 4:7-8). The classic texts of Ephesians 6:10-18 and Revelation 12:7-17 situate these tests within the broader drama of cosmic spiritual warfare and an apocalyptic worldview.

To read James according to this view is to think of the tests as a threat to faith. As such, they do not have a divinely intended purpose, nor are they “sent by God to teach us or perfect us” as is commonly said in Christian circles. Rather, as specific tactics in an ongoing war against the people of God, they intend not to build or develop faith but to destroy it. Their purpose is not to teach us but to tempt us, not to lead the believer towards maturation but capitulation, so that they lose faith in God and let go of the hope that faith inspires.

It may be that many modern readers react against the apocalyptic character of this worldview and prefer to understand sin and evil in more human or institutional terms, rather than in terms of an evil spiritual personality. In fact, it is possible that James’ central point is retained, even if the apocalyptic background is stripped from the passage. It is possible that the trials arise as an aspect of the church’s location “between the times,” in this period in which the kingdom of God has found entry into the world and is growing in the world but is not yet fully realised in the world. The way of the kingdom is antithetical to the way of the world and results in pressure being brought to bear upon the lives of those who choose this new way. It may be that the tests arise simply as part of the conditions of life, the normal pressures and stresses of existence which challenge the idea of God’s existence or God’s care. The very real afflictions, pressure and suffering experienced by Christians may cause them to despair of God’s goodness or power or both.

James notes that the testing of their faith produces endurance (katergazetai hypomonē). Katergazetai simply means “to produce,” although the erg-root in the verb is related to “work” and so anticipates ergon (“work”) in verse four. The verb is in the present tense, indicating a process or progression culminating in endurance. Hypomonē literally has the sense of “remaining under,” and so bearing up in the midst of difficult or challenging circumstances. It refers not to passive acceptance or resignation in the face of these circumstances, but is an active, strong and positive resistance of them. Hypomonē, therefore, characterises those who hold themselves steady in the midst of pressure. In the early Christian community it was a trait highly valued, for only those who had it would truly endure to the end (cf. Matthew 10:22; 24:13). It is used in the epistles, and especially in the book of Revelation, to encourage the embattled church to stand firm, even to the point of death. It is often paired with faith, the two virtues working together to ensure the believer inherits the eschatological promise (e.g. Hebrews 10:35-36 (cf. 6:12); Revelation 13:10).

James is obviously confident that his listeners’ trials are in fact producing endurance, but is it necessarily so? Assuming the interpretation of the verse given above, this outcome is not fait accompli, but in fact dependent upon the believer’s response to their trials. This helps explain James’ appeal in these verses: it is as they live in accordance with what they know, as they count it all joy in the midst of their trials, that the testing of their faith produces endurance. In verses 2-3, then, James calls on the church to rejoice in the midst of their suffering, knowing that their trials will produce this highly valued virtue. The trial which is intended to destroy their faith will in fact strengthen and confirm it if they will stand fast. Indeed, by standing fast in the midst of the trial, more endurance will develop, and they will grow stronger and have more capacity for steadfastness in future trials.

Scripture on Sunday – James 1:2

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Saint_James_the_JustJames 1:2
My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy (NRSV)

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials (NASB)

James’ opening salvo is as firm as it is strange. Unlike most New Testament letters which begin with a blessing and/or a prayer, James is straight down to business, exhorting his listeners to consider it “all joy” whenever they face trials of any kind. The focus on joy (chara) builds on the final word of the first verse Greetings (charein, or literally, Rejoice!), and so forms a link between the opening verse and the new section.

Translating Pasan charan hēgēsasthe as “consider it all joy”(NASB) is to be preferred, for “consider it nothing but joy” (NRSV) suggests that the only legitimate emotional response one may experience during testing is joy, whereas people experiencing trial will typically feel a range of responses, and James exhorts them to joy. Of course, to be joyful in the midst of trials, and indeed to consider it a joyful thing to fall into trial, is counter-intuitive. To fall into trial is to experience stress and pressure, if not distress and suffering. James’ intent in this section, then, is not simply to issue a bare exhortation but to also show why and how one can consider such an event as an occasion for joy, indeed, “pure joy” or “all joy.”

The exhortation is addressed to “my brothers and sisters” (adelphoi mou), that is, fellow believers and as such those who are in the family. James is calling for a fundamental and radical shift of attitude. Whereas we typically view trials as a source or occasion of displeasure, anxiety, frustration or even despair, James calls us to view them as an occasion for joy. To consider something is an exercise of mind, will and vision, especially in a circumstance in which trials are anything but joyful. Vlachos (16) notes that the verb (hēgēsasthe) in the New Testament is almost always used in terms of a value judgement. Thus, in spite of their discomfort or distress, the believer is encouraged to view their trials in a new light, and so to respond to them in an unexpected way. Not only are they called to rejoice in the midst of trials, but to see the trial itself as an opportunity for rejoicing.

James calls his audience to adopt this posture whenever they fall into all kinds of trials (hotan peirasmois peripesēte poikilois). The word for trial (peirasmos) can refer, depending on context, either to temptations towards sin which arise from within (cf. v. 14), or to the kinds of afflictions which press upon us from without. Here the second meaning suits the context best, for these are trials that we fall into. McKnight (75-76) argues that James has in mind a very particular context of economic hardship and oppression, and the subsequent temptation faced by his audience to react to this hardship with anger and violence. However the general terms used by James in this text (whenever, any kind (poikilois basically means various)) suggest that he is thinking of trials in general, of trials whenever they come, and of trials in any and all guises. Thus, in all the various kinds of trial and affliction that a person may encounter, James offers this counsel: rejoice! J. B. Phillips’ rendering of this verse captures the sense James intended (478): “When all kinds of trials and temptations crowd into your lives, my brothers, don’t resent them as intruders but welcome them as friends!” Just why and how a believer might do this is the theme of verses 3-4.

Scripture on Sunday – James 1:1

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Saint_James_the_JustJames 1:1
James, a bond-servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes who are dispersed abroad: Greetings.

The first word of the letter is simply the author’s name, following the custom of ancient letter writing practices. This James is apparently so well known that he can be recognised simply by mention of his name. There are really only two “Jameses” in the New Testament who are sufficiently prominent to qualify as this James: James the brother of John, one of the twelve, who was martyred by Herod (see Acts 12:2), and James the brother of Jesus, who became leader of the church in Jerusalem. Last week we suggested that the latter is best thought of as the writer.

But James does not set forth his privileged relationship to Jesus as the basis of his right to gain the attention and hearing of his audience, but refers to himself rather as a “bond-servant (doulos) of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ.” To claim to be a servant of God is not uncommon within Judaism, but to claim also to be a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ is to immediately distinguish oneself from mainstream Judaism, indicated by assigning these particular titles—Lord and Christ—to this particular man. Christos (Christ), is simply the Greek rendering of the Hebrew term for Messiah, while kyrios (Lord) is the Greek term used in the Septuagint to translate the Tetragrammaton (YHWH)—the holy name of the Lord God. To refer to the man Jesus as Lord and Christ is to associate him with the Old Testament God, and as God’s eschatological saviour, the Messiah. This, of course, constitutes a decisive claim within Judaism: the Messiah has come! God has acted to redeem his people. His eschatological salvation has appeared amongst the human community, precisely in this particular man, Jesus, whom we must also acknowledge as Lord.

James addresses his letter “to the twelve tribes who are dispersed abroad.” This is unusual language because technically, the twelve tribes no longer exist, the northern kingdom of Israel having been taken into captivity by Assyria many centuries earlier (see 2 Kings 17). It is likely that James is using the phrase simply to identify ethnic Jews, and perhaps more particularly, Jewish believers in Jesus “who are dispersed abroad” (tais en tē diaspora). The noun diaspora referred to those Jews who lived outside of Palestine; the term was both ethnic and geographical (Trebilco, 287, 297-299). If we accept that the epistle was written by James the brother of Jesus sometime in the 40s, it could be that he is writing especially to those Jewish believers who had been part of the Jerusalem congregation, but then had been “scattered throughout” the regions of Judea and Samaria in the persecution that arose after the stoning of Stephen (Acts 8:2, 4). Indeed, Acts 11:19 tells of some of those “scattered” who went to the gentile regions of Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch. In each of these texts the verb used is diaspeirō, the cognate of the noun used in James 1:1 (and the only times the verbal form occurs in the New Testament). By means of his letter, James is extending pastoral care and oversight to these followers of Jesus in their scattered locations, who, as former members of the Jerusalem community, would have been aware of James’ identity, leadership and authority.

Might James have had an evangelistic as well as a pastoral motive for writing this letter? Might he be writing to Jews more generally who are now being brought into contact with Christian Jews, and encouraging them to believe in Christ? This is unlikely, given the very few references to Jesus in the letter. James is writing to exhort Christian Jews to faithful endurance in the midst of their suffering and hardship, and to perhaps to counter reports he has heard concerning disunity in their midst.

“Greetings!” James’ salutation is to the point. This form of salutation is found elsewhere in the New Testament only in Acts 15:23—in the letter from the council of Jerusalem. But it is a common form of greeting in Greek letters, which also indicates James’ familiarity with the Greek style (Moo, 58). The word itself—charein—literally means “to rejoice” and thus also forms a fitting segue to the next verse.

Application

Though a simple salutation, this verse lends itself to at least a couple of applications for Christian life and ministry. First, James could have introduced himself as the brother of Jesus, claiming elevated rank, privilege and authority. But James does not “pull rank” on his readers choosing rather to describe himself simply as a servant. This is consonant with Jesus’ teaching that those who would be great in the kingdom of God must take the lower place, becoming servants and following his own example: “for even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (see Mark 10:42-45; cf. John 13:1-17). Further, it is fitting: if Jesus is the Lord-Christ, the Messiah-King (McKnight), then to be his servant is in itself a high and distinguished calling.

Second, James is concerned not simply for the believers surrounding him, those he can see, but for those who have been scattered, those under pressure, those who have left, and those far away. Out of sight is not out of mind for James the Just. Undoubtedly the prayerful man prays for them; here he writes to make contact, to encourage and exhort. Pastoral authority is grounded in pastoral care, pastoral leadership in humble service.

Scripture on Sunday – James the Just

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I have been asked toSaint_James_the_Just write a commentary on James 1 for a new project entitled the Global Bible Commentary. So this new series on James chapter 1 will help me prepare for that. I hope you find my reflections on James helpful, and I especially invite your critical comments and homiletical reflections, in order to improve mine.

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I want to begin with a question – who wrote the epistle attributed to James? What can we know about James?

The letter of James begins with the identification of the author simply as “James,” further described in general terms as a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ. Evidently this particular James was sufficiently well known to his readers as not to require further identification. Who then, was this James? The New Testament refers to a number of people bearing this name: James the son of Zebedee and brother of John who was martyred by Herod (see Acts 12:2), James the son of Alphaeus who was one of the twelve (Matthew 10:3), James the brother of Jesus (Mark 6:3), James the Less whose mother Mary was present at the crucifixion of Jesus (Mark 15:40), James the father of Judas who was also one of the twelve, and to be distinguished from Judas Iscariot (Luke 6:16; Acts 1:13), James the brother of Jude (Jude 1), and finally, James, the author of our letter. Robert Wall contends that most scholars believe that the best candidate for James-the-letter-writer is James the brother of Jesus (545). Duling and Perrin contend precisely the opposite, arguing that most scholars believe the work to be pseudonymous, although undoubtedly referring to this particular James (482; cf. the table in Davids, 4). A number of recent evangelical commentators have analysed the various arguments against the traditional idea that the author is in fact James the brother of Jesus, and have concluded that the arguments are less than convincing, and that consequently there is no good reason to reject the traditional view.

The main arguments against the traditional view are:

a)     The Greek of the letter is too sophisticated for a working-class Jew from Galilee. This argument ignores the degree of interaction between Jews and Greeks in Galilee in the period when James was a child, as well as the testimony of Acts which portrays the church in Jerusalem as composed of both Hebrew and Greek-speaking believers, and James as one who cites the Septuagint in Acts 15:17-18.

b)     The James we see in Acts is so Jewish and so conservatively so, he could not possibly be the author of this letter. It is true that Acts 21:15-26 portrays James as one “zealous for the Law,” and who makes a distinction between Jewish and gentile Christians. Yet the Letter of James is also thoroughly Jewish in its style, orientation and world of thought. The James of the letter is concerned for the purity of the people (1:27; 3:17), their faithful observance of the Law (1:25; 2:8, 10-12; 4:11-12), the plight of the poor (1:27 – 2:17)—all consonant with the picture of James found in Acts and Galatians 2.

c)     The section on faith and works in chapter two must be understood as a reaction to central themes in Paul’s writings which only entered into wider circulation in the late first century—well after the time of James’ death in 62. While it may be true that Paul’s writings were only distributed in this later period, his ideas were certainly in circulation much earlier, and were, in fact, a major issue at the council held in Jerusalem in Acts 15. Some scholars, therefore, argue that rather than indicating a late composition, this theme in James indicates early composition. James is reacting, not so much to Paul’s more formal statements contained in his letters, but to erroneous applications of his ideas amongst the congregations he is writing to, in the early period of Paul’s ministry, and before the Jerusalem council which is not mentioned in letter. Thus, these scholars argue for a date in the mid to late forties, making James one of the earliest books of the New Testament. (See, for example, Carson, Moo & Morris, 410-413; McKnight, 13-38; Moo, 19-30; Vlachos, 3-5.)

This is not to suggest that the arguments for the traditional position are necessarily persuasive. Scot McKnight, for example, accepts the traditional view as the best option, but notes that it hardly compelling, and thus not something to be overly dogmatic about (37). Davids agrees. Although there is evidence for an early date, it is not conclusive. Thus he suggests that the core material of the letter originates with James-the-brother-of-Jesus, but was edited later, perhaps after James’ death, as the church became more gentile in its composition and location (21-22). This view, of course, sees James as a later composition.

If we accept the traditional view, what can we know of James, the Lord’s brother? Mark’s account suggests that Jesus was the eldest of five brothers (James, Joses, Judas and Simon), and that he had at least two sisters. If Mark’s order of the brothers is chronological, James would have been the next after Jesus. We know also that in the earlier days of Jesus’ ministry James and his other brothers did not believe in Jesus (John 7:1-5), and in fact, thought that he was not in full command of his faculties (Mark 3:20-21; cf. 31-35). Yet Luke notes that Jesus’ brothers—including James, we suppose—were part of the company that met “with one mind … continually devoting themselves to prayer” in the upper room after the ascension of Jesus (Acts 1:14). What had happened to turn their unbelief? We find a clue to the answer in the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 15: “then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles” (v. 7).  I grew up in a family of six boys, often at strife with one another, and I can only imagine some of the things James may have said to his elder brother! Yet in an act of grace as much human as divine, the resurrected Jesus appeared to James, and, although we have no record of what transpired at that meeting, its impact on James evidently was immediate and lasting. Some years later when Paul wrote to the Galatians he mentions James of one of those who “were of reputation” in Jerusalem, and names James ahead of Cephas (Peter) and John as those reputed to be “pillars” in the church (Galatians 2:2, 9). That James appears to be the leader of the church in Jerusalem is affirmed again a few verses later when Paul speaks of “the coming of certain men from James” (v. 12).

Further testimony to James’ growing stature in the Christian community at Jerusalem is seen in Acts. After Peter’s miraculous release from prison he went to a house where believers had gathered in prayer. After assuring them of his safety he instructs the gathered believers to “report these things to James and the brethren” (12:17). In chapter fifteen James appears as the head of the church in Jerusalem, likely Peter’s successor after the latter’s escape from prison and subsequent “disappearance.” James sums up the proceedings of the meeting and his recommendation, framed theologically according to Scripture, is accepted by all those present. We hear of James once more in Luke’s account when Paul, during his final trip to Jerusalem, went in with the brethren “to James, and all the elders were present” (Acts 21:17-18).

One final question here concerns what became of James. The ancient church historian, Eusebius, records two early traditions concerning the death of James (see especially Church History book II, chapter 23). The traditions, deriving from Hegesippus and Josephus, indicate that James was known as James-the-Just, a righteous and prayerful man held in esteem by both Christian and non-Christian Jews. According to Eusebius, James was accused to Ananus the high priest and consequently executed as a martyr in 61 or 62BCE.

In the book of James, then, we have Christian testimony from the earliest days of the church, by one who we think was the very brother of Jesus, a man of holy and widespread reputation, one who gave his life as a martyr, another “of whom the world was not worthy,” and thus now acknowledged as a hero of the faith, who, “though dead, yet speaks” (see Hebrews 11:4, 38). We do well, therefore, to give our very best attention to his message.

An Ethics of Presence & Virtue (Psalms 9-11) Pt 2

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Hands of hopeIn Sunday’s post I suggested that Psalms 9-11 generate a moral vision for the people of God. What, then, might this positive vision of life look like?

1)     It will be a life in community, the life of the people of God, rather than isolated individuals. Although David seems to stand alone against the wish of his interlocutors, David was not alone, and one can be sure that his leadership in this matter would stimulate a corresponding response in others. Further, the very psalms themselves testify to a community that kept this vision alive and embodied their hope.

2)     It will be a life deeply grounded in the knowledge of God and vision of hope that emerges from the Old and New Testaments. It is clear that the faith, hope and worldview that come to expression in these psalms is grounded in the revelation of God given in the scriptures of the Hebrew people.

3)     It will be life that finds expression in worship and praise, prayer and trust, faith and obedience, that is, in the acknowledgement of this God who is sovereign over all, who will judge the wicked and reward the righteous. The form of life called forth by these psalms will be grounded, nurtured and supported in this community of faithful worship and devotion. In particular, the community and those in it will pray as the psalmist prays, crying out for God to arise, praying Thy Kingdom come!

4)     It will be a life in which particular virtues are evident: we have already mentioned faith and hope. These in turn generate patience and courage. Patience refers to that steadfastness that waits for God’s action, which refuses to capitulate to despair, faithlessness or godlessness. It is the concrete expression of hope and is oriented toward that hope. The courage in these psalms springs from the faith-conviction that God reigns and will indeed establish his justice. Therefore the psalmist has courage to stay, despite personal threats and dangerous conditions.

Other virtues are evident in these psalms. If God loves justice his people will aspire to live justly. If God cares for the vulnerable and shelters the oppressed, so his people will learn to emulate God’s compassion for those suffering and afflicted by the conditions of the world. Over against the pride, greed and violence of the wicked, God’s people will value humility, contentment, gentleness and peace.

5)     It will be a life of presence in the midst of the society. Through faith, David stays. The community of God’s people will be present to the vulnerable and afflicted, ministering to them and in solidarity with them. They will also be present to the wicked as a testimony against their ways. In both cases they serve as a witness to the present and coming kingdom. They not only pray Thy Kingdom come! but live the ways of the kingdom in the midst of world.

In the early years of his career Karl Barth adopted the language of 2 Peter 3:12 as a watchword for his understanding of the nature of Christian life: “waiting for and hastening the coming day of God…” These psalms bear a similar testimony. The church fervently prays Arise O God, Thy Kingdom come! and therefore waits in anticipation of a new heavens and earth in which righteousness dwells. In the meantime, however, they hasten towards and bear witness to that coming kingdom by practicing righteousness here and now. They practice an ethic of resistance and non-participation with respect to the ways of “the nations” and instead live gently, humbly and generously in a world of violence, pride and greed. Theirs is a spirituality of faith, hope and love, and an ethics of presence and virtue, and all this in the community of God’s people.

An Ethics of Presence & Virtue (Psalms 9-11)

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Hands of hopeAs I worked my way through the early chapters of the Psalms, it seemed to me that Psalms 9-11 had a different character to those which had preceded them. Certainly they retained common features of devotion, and a common theological stance, affirming the sovereignty of God and the necessity of human faithfulness and trust. Nevertheless, it seemed that they encouraged ethical reflection, providing a moral vision for how the people of God are to conduct their lives in the midst of a hostile environment.

Perhaps the editors of the Psalter intentionally placed these psalms after Psalm 8 in which humanity is portrayed in exalted terms, crowned with glory and honour. I noted, in my exposition of Psalm 9, that the theme of the psalm concerns humanity in its fallen state, humanity without God and against God, and so humanity that perpetrates injustice, violence and oppression. Thus the psalmist cries out that God would arise and establish his sovereignty, that he would judge the oppressor and remember the afflicted. In New Testament terms, it is as though the psalmist is praying, Thy Kingdom Come!

Psalm 10 continues this theme. It suggests that without God and without ‘spirit’ there will be no enduring justice or peace. The pride, greed and violence of the wicked emerges from a practical atheism which lives according to the dictum, “there is no God.” The psalm suggests that a godless secularity will always issue in a brutal world of violence, abuse and uncaring consumption. The man who is of the earth is one who brings terror into the lives of others. And so the dialogue partners in Psalm 11 plaintively ask, “If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?”

In the modern west we excel at doing. When threatening circumstances arise we want to do something. We like to react or respond, take charge and take control. We want to be busy, to enact building programmes and preventative strategies against the failing foundations and those who are destroying them. And to be fair, I would rather have a bias toward action than a craven passivity that fears to do anything.

Or perhaps the righteous should take the counsel of the psalmist’s dialogue partners: “Flee as a bird to your mountain!” Instead of taking charge, and instead of doing nothing, perhaps we should flee, seeking refuge in safe places, protecting and delivering ourselves from evil. Maybe we can relocate to safer suburbs and more pleasant environments. It may be possible to put a safe distance between ourselves and the spreading evil. Surely firmer and more enduring foundations are to be found elsewhere?

But David rejects the prescription of his advisors: “In the Lord I take refuge; how can you say to my soul, ‘Flee as bird to your mountain?’” Even in the face of threatening conditions and dangerous circumstances David is convinced that the Lord reigns, that God will ‘arise’ to judge the wicked and put an end to their evil. And so David trusts and David stays.

Together, these psalms commend an ethics of presence and virtue. That is, they provide the people of God with a vision of life and instruction for uncertain times. How should we live? What should we do? What is God’s will for us now, in these circumstances? The role of ethics is to help us find answers to these kinds of questions.

What, then, is the positive vision of life in these psalms for the people of God? First, the psalms present a vision of hope in the present and eschatological triumph of God. This in turn generates faith and trust, and so prayer, patience and courage. Second, the psalms present a picture of God’s character as one who is merciful and just, who favours the vulnerable and lowly, the oppressed and afflicted, and who stands against the violence and pride of the wicked. Third, the psalms hold forth the promise that God will indeed be a refuge and stronghold for his own people, and that they shall experience his protection and reward; the Lord loves righteousness and the righteous will behold his face. Finally, the psalms presuppose a faithful community, the community which preserves and sings these psalms and prays these prayers and remembers these promises and lives this hope.

What, then, might this positive vision of life look like? I will unpack this a little more in Tuesday’s post.

A Psalm for Sunday – Psalm 11

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bird-in-handRead Psalm 11

Although only seven short verses, this psalm speaks powerfully to those facing crises or danger, for it was written in response to some kind of threat and danger. “In the Lord I take refuge; How can you say to my soul, ‘Flee as a bird to your mountain’” (v. 1).

We cannot know who this person or these people are who counsel flight, although we get some reason as to why they do so in verses two and three: the very foundations of society are being destroyed, and the wicked seem to be in the ascendancy. Although they slink about in darkness, they are armed and ready to shoot at the upright and bring them down. It seems there is nothing the upright can do in these circumstances except flee. Perhaps the counsel to flee comes from those concerned for the welfare of the psalmist. Perhaps it comes as a cynical admonition from those who sneer at his faith and think his defeat is imminent and irreversible. Either way, it is the counsel of despair: “Give up! Flee! Take cover! Save yourself; run for your life; seek safety elsewhere and let the city go to the dogs: there is nothing you can do.”

This is precisely what the psalmist refuses to do: “In the Lord I take refuge.” This bold statement recalls the promise of 2:12 that those who seek refuge in the Lord shall be blessed, even if the nations rage, and the “man of the earth” continues to enact terror (10:18).

What can the psalmist see that his counsellors cannot? “The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord’s throne is in heaven” (v. 4). The psalmist is convinced that God is still on the throne, that God reigns, and so the events of earth are not beyond divine sovereignty and providence. God is neither absent nor uninvolved, but tests humanity, weighing the deeds both of the righteous and the wicked. Further, the psalmist believes that God exercises judgement, punishing the wicked and rewarding the righteous (vv. 6-7). This judgement is  still future for the psalmist, but it is not necessarily eschatological (a judgement beyond the grave), but may in fact be historical. The wicked will in this life get their “just deserts,” while the righteous will receive God’s favour and be vindicated (cf. Craigie). It is possible, however, that the final phrase of the psalm, “the upright will behold his face,” may be understood in terms of the beatific vision promised to God’s people in the New Testament (see, for example, Revelation 22: 4).Archer

Ultimately, then, the psalmist’s confidence is based upon faith. He trusts God because he trusts that the reality of God is more sure and more certain than the disintegrating chaos that surrounds him. This faith has several crucial aspects, which reflect the theological worldview of the ancient Hebrew people:

  1. First, God is utterly supreme, the transcendent ruler, lord and judge of all humanity;
  2. This God is moral, dwelling in his holy temple; he loves righteousness and so hates the one who loves violence (v. 5). The moral nature of God undergirds his activity as judge;
  3. In contrast to God, humanity is morally corrupt, and remains accountable to God who tests all people (vv. 4-5). Yet the possibility of being found among the righteous remains, and those who trust in God and practise righteousness will find that they are sheltered by God, and will “see” God’s face (v. 7);
  4. Judgement is certain, and there is a firm hope that ultimately, justice will be done, with the righteous being vindicated and blessed;
  5. How did the ancient Israelites know all this? By a conviction that this God had revealed himself to Israel throughout her history, and had called Israel into a covenant relationship with God. This knowledge and hope, assurance, courage, and moral vision are grounded in God’s revelation of himself and his will to his elect people.

The central question of the psalm is that put to the psalmist in verse three: if the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do? The psalmist seems to ignore the question, and instead directs his attention to the Lord who is in his holy temple (v. 4). Craigie (133) notes that this hints at the immanence of God: God is not simply transcendent and sovereignly powerful, but also present to comfort, help and support. There is no dualism here, no division of heaven and earth into separate compartments and spheres of rule. God’s throne is in heaven; God dwells in his temple. The same God is lord over all things, sovereignly powerful and yet close enough to shelter those who trust in him.

But is the psalmist evading the question? Perhaps not. For the psalmist, the Lord himself is the true foundation, the only foundation, an indestructible foundation upon which he can build his life and in whom he can trust. Social and cultural foundations may falter, people fail, institutions fade, and civilisations fall, but God remains steadfast. God himself and God alone is our only foundation—an unseen and intangible foundation, but no less real for all that.

What can the righteous do? They can do what the psalmist did: trust more deeply in God, and refuse to abandon their post. If we assume Davidic authorship of the psalm, we find here a leadership that refuses to capitulate in the face of desperate crisis. We find here a righteousness that refuses to hand over the city  to the wicked. We find here a profound vision of faith in the sovereign goodness, presence and power of God—the true foundation upon which a life, a leader, and a city may be built. David stays because David trusts.

A Psalm for Sunday – Psalm 10

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Read Psalm 10

Last week we noted that this psalm is very possibly a continuation of Psalm 9 and perhaps the two were originally one psalm. Certainly there are a number of common themes between the two psalms. The psalm begins with a complaint that echoes the age-old mystery of God’s absence or hiddenness in the face of ever-present evil. “Why do you stand afar off, O Lord? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (v. 1). Perhaps everyone who has ever trusted in God has had occasion to ask this question. Where is God when things go wrong? Furthermore, the psalm gives no answer to this devastating question, although it does have a response.

The psalmist’s question highlights the dilemma of the person who trusts in God’s universal sovereignty yet sees that sovereignty denied in the reality of earthly affairs. Instead of divine sovereignty, justice and peace, the wicked prosper in their pursuits, and it seems there is no one to hinder their oppression of the vulnerable.

In verses 2-11 the pride, greed and violence of the wicked are portrayed. At the base of their wickedness lies godlessness (vv. 3-4), a practical atheism which lives according to the dictum, “there is no God.” The apparent silence and hiddenness of God has caused the wicked to cast off the remembrance of God and to live as though there is no God. God’s judgements are ‘out of sight, out of mind’ as far as the wicked are concerned (v. 5), and so their mouth is full of cursing and oppression, and their activity is violent and oppressive. The psalmist portrays them as a lion lying in wait to catch its prey, who are described as innocent, unfortunate and afflicted (vv. 8-9).

Verse 12 echoes 9:19: “Arise, O Lord!” This verse, together with verse 15, constitute the primary petition of the psalm. The psalmist calls upon God to “lift up your hand…break the arm of the wicked and the evildoer.” He prays that the wicked would have no more power to afflict, and indeed, that God would so act, that the wicked would be uprooted from the world until there are ‘no more.’ The psalmist implores God to act so that the wicked would no longer think that they will not be brought to account. He implores God to act also on account of the afflicted who depend upon God to be their deliverer and helper.

The psalm finds its climax in verses 16-18 where the psalmist proclaims that the Lord is king forever. The Lord has not abdicated his authority, nor is his sovereignty annulled. He has seen the oppression of the wicked and heard the cry of the afflicted. The Lord will act to judge on behalf of the oppressed.

As in Psalm 9, the psalmist’s hope is that God will arise to defend the cause of the needy and judge the oppressor. In both psalms God’s kingdom is eternal, and his eternal reign is set in contrast to the ephemeral existence of humanity. In both psalms, the longing for justice takes the form of eschatological hope.

Of particular interest in this psalm is the final line (cf. 9:19-20): ‘So that man who is of the earth will no longer cause terror.’ This evocative image suggests an orientation which is often celebrated today; that is, the one who is grounded, earthy, ecologically sensitive, natural and strong. In the psalm, however, it designates something rather different, the kind of secularity for which there is no spirit, no God, no life hereafter, but simply the here and now, bodies and desires, and the will to power.

The psalm is a critique of this kind of life-vision. It suggests that without God and without spirit there will be no enduring justice or peace. It suggests that a godless secularity will issue in a brutal world of violence, abuse and uncaring consumption. The man who is of the earth is one who brings terror into the lives of others.

How valid is this claim? For many today, the origin of terror is precisely those who ‘imagine’ a god: religion is seen as a—if not the—major source of terror, violence and injustice in the world. This assertion is not without some substance, though it is often overstated. Religious zeal has not uncommonly become an oppressive and even terrifying power in the world. To the extent that this is so, it is a ‘religion that is of the earth,’ no matter how exalted its claims, or exuberant its worship.

What is needed is ‘man’ who is not of the earth. This, of course, is the message of the gospel: Jesus Christ is the new ‘man,’ the beginning of a new humanity. The virgin birth of Christ signifies a new beginning, a creative act of God which will ultimately issue in a new creation, a new heavens and a new earth. Those who are in Christ are called to be this new humanity, a people who pray and cry out to God in the face of human injustice and oppression, and who dare to live according to a new vision of justice and peace in communities of hope and care. Such a community insists that might is not right, and so stands against the evil that is in the world, and stands with the afflicted, because it stands in hope of God’s eschatological kingdom: Thy Kingdom come!

A Psalm for Sunday – Psalm 9

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Processed with VSCOcam with m5 presetRead Psalm 9

The first thing to be said about this psalm is that it is quite possible, even likely, that it should be read with Psalm 10 as a single psalm. The two psalms seem to be an acrostic poem where each line or section begins with the next letter of the alphabet. Psalm 9 starts with the first Hebrew letter, aleph, and concludes with the eleventh letter Kaph – half way through the twenty-two letter alphabet. Psalm 10 then commences with the twelfth letter Lamedh and continues to the end of the alphabet. The pattern is not entire, however; Psalm 9 for instance, omits the fourth letter Daleth, and there are a few difficulties with the pattern in Psalm 10. Nevertheless, Hebrew scholars feel there are good grounds for considering that two psalms should be read together, if not as a single work.

The vision and theme of the psalm is of the Lord as the sovereign ruler and judge of all nations. That is, the Lord is the universal sovereign who exercises judgement both for David in his immediate situation, and eschatologically for the whole world. The psalm contrasts the kingdoms of this world – the nations – with the kingdom of God. In New Testament language we might say that the whole psalm breathes the second petition of the Lord’s Prayer: Thy Kingdom come!

Verses 1-2 commence as a vow of praise to God Most High (cf. 7:17). Then follows a celebration of God’s judgement of David’s enemies, resulting in their complete and utter ruin (vv. 3-6). They are blotted out and destroyed forever, so that even the very memory of them has perished. In terms of modern sensibilities, this is very troubling indeed, for it seems that the psalmist has co-opted God for his own nationalist purposes, and provides religious validation for violence and hatred of enemies. He is, as usually we all are, convinced of the justness of his own cause, and sees his victory as divine justice.

In contrast to the transience of the enemies who have perished, the Lord abides forever. In verses 7-10 David enlarges his vision: not only has God judged in his favour, but he will judge the world in righteousness and with equity. This is an unusual equity, however, for it favours the oppressed and troubled. Verses nine and ten particularly, recall Psalm 2:12, that those who seek refuge in God will not be forgotten or forsaken by God, but rather will be the recipients of his protection and blessing. For many centuries God’s people have found comfort and strength in these verses.

Psalm 9On the basis of this hope, then, the psalmist exhorts his listeners to praise (v. 11) and again reiterates that God does not forget the afflicted, but indeed will require or avenge their blood (v. 12). Here again modern sensibilities are affronted; yet the image serves to emphasise the reality and strictness of the divine judgement. God himself will take the cause of the afflicted and oppressed and will visit upon those who oppress them, the same kind of treatment that they have dealt out to others. Verses 13-14 now petition the Lord for his grace (cf. 4:4; 6:2), and anticipate that he shall indeed be gracious.

Verse 15 returns to the theme of judgement, and begins with an observation that the nations get caught in their own traps and devices. Like Psalm 7:15-16, this verse suggests that there is a natural moral order functioning in the world, a ‘law’ as it were, of sowing and reaping in which evil intended for others returns upon one’s own head. However, verse 16 suggests that even the apparently impersonal consequences of one’s actions are the direct result of Yahweh’s personal exercise of judgement. Verses 17-18 play on the idea of memory and forgetfulness. The wicked who forget God will ‘return’ to Sheol – where there is no memory of God (cf. 6:5). But the poor and afflicted will not be forgotten, for God remembers them and does not forget their cry (v. 12).

The final two verses of the psalm form its climax, and are the key to its meaning as a whole:

Arise, O Lord, do not let man prevail;
Let the nations be judged before you.
Put them in fear, O Lord;
Let the nations know that they are but men.

After the celebration of humanity’s exalted status in Psalm 8, this plaintive cry brings us back to earth, reminding us of our fallen state and its moral consequences. There is a stark contrast between God and humanity, between human activity and divine justice. There is also a very  sharp reminder that we need divine judgement if ultimately, there is to be justice and equity.

It seems that human power will always exert itself against God, bringing injustice and oppression to others. The nations forget God (v. 17) and oppress the needy (v. 18). They rage and imagine vain things (2:1). The nations and their leaders strut about upon the stage of history as though they were God. For the psalmist, then, the only hope for peace and equity lies in the hope that God will ultimately judge the nations and thereby bring true justice to pass.

In all this, of course, a genuine problem arises: it is difficult to perceive God’s sovereign reign over the nations in our present world. Injustice, human pretension and violence abound. Where are you Lord, in the midst of the ever-present tensions within and among the nations? How long, O Lord, will you allow the powerful to oppress the poor and vulnerable? Why do you delay in coming? Arise O Lord!

We, like the psalmist, are called to see what cannot be seen: the universal sovereignty of God. And to believe what is almost impossible to believe: that God will one day put things to rights. In so doing, our hope is wholly placed on God, his faithfulness, his righteousness and his kingdom. And so we pray, Thy Kingdom come!

Practise Resurrection – An Easter Sermon

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Everyday ResurrectionMt Hawthorn Community Church are on Easter camp, and they have asked me to preach for them this morning. Here is an outline of what I intend to say…

The text is Colossians 3:1-17.

So if 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 is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.

1. The central feature of this text, and indeed the whole central section of Colossians (i.e. 2:6 – 4:6) concerns our union with Christ and most specifically, our union with Christ in his death and resurrection. We have died with Christ, been buried with Christ, made alive with Christ, raised with Christ so that now our lives are hidden with Christ in God. Why this emphasis? What is going on at Colosse that Paul would write like this?

2. The Colossian church is a young church of young believers, under threat from false teachers who want to lead them into forms of spirituality beyond Christ and in addition to Christ. The false teaching is a curious mix of Jewish legalism, pagan philosophy and mysticism, and religious asceticism (see especially 2:8-23). Paul’s argument is simple: we are already united with Christ in his resurrection: there is nothing else to gain! Our lives are already hidden with Christ in God. We are the heirs of his glory – why, O why would we seek something else somewhere else? In him is all the fulness of the Godhead bodily – and you have been made complete in him (Colossians 2:9-10).

Does this mean, therefore, that Christians can be careless about the way they live, that there is nothing to the Christian life? God forbid! Although he does not say here, this is the kind of response Paul would make to this question. For Paul, the Christian life consists in learning to live more deeply from and into our union with Christ – in his death, and in his resurrection. What does it mean to practise resurrection?

3. Learning to Say NO!
Colossians 3:5-11 instruct us to “put off” the identity and ways of the old world.

What kinds of things are we to ‘put off’? Selfish, unrestrained sexuality, unfettered greed, anger and hatred, prejudice and violence. This is a spirituality of resistance to the ways of the world which are inherently idolatrous and destructive—to ourselves, to others, and to God’s good creation. These things afflict pain on people and destruction on community.

According to Ron Sider (The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience, 97, 103),

God’s grand strategy of redemption does not focus on redeeming isolated individuals; it centers on the creation of a new people, a new community, a new social order that begins to live now the way the Creator intended….The church is a new, visible social order. It is a radical new community visibly living a challenge to the sexual insanity, the racial and social prejudice, and the economic injustice that pervade the rest of society.

4. Learning to say YES!
What of the positive content of Christian life, spirituality and ethics? Not only is the community a community of resistance to the ways of the world, but it is also called to positively exhibit the life and character of the coming kingdom. We are called to live the lifestyle of heaven here on earth, the life of the future now in the present. This involves learning what it means to be a community of character, a community of peace, and a community of worship.

Christian life is life-in-community bearing witness to the God’s kingdom of love, righteousness and peace. Thus, to practise resurrection involves:

  1. A spirituality of faith and rest, resting from our own works because we trust fully in the work of Christ on our behalf;
  2. A spirituality of resistance and nonconformity to the destructive and idolatrous ways and practices of this world;
  3. A spirituality of bearing witness to a radically new kind of life in community, where love of God and love of others is the foundation and goal of all we do.

*****

Well, the morning (not necessarily the sermon!) went well. Mt Hawthorn Community is not a conservative congregation, but they are intelligent and thoughtful and bring a good level of discussion, reflection and question to their faith. The sermon moved to discussion during point four above and the discussion continued for 20 minutes during the service, and then for a further 30 or 40 minutes afterwards. One of the things I appreciate at Mt Hawthorn is that every sermon is followed by a time of Q&A during which the congregation engage with the material. It helps keep preaching honest and grounded.