Even Still Yet More Maxims of Methuselah Moot

/ W. Keith Brenton / Leave a comment

Methuselah MootRobert Heinlein chronicled a far-flung future’s The Notebooks of Lazarus Long; a few years later, David Gerrold responded with the often-hilarious and equally-irreverent Sayings of Solomon Short. That was all years ago, so I have decided at last to reveal Even Still Yet More Maxims of Methuselah Moot (although some of them go back as far as the Greek philosopher-dishwasher Bolognades).

It is possibly coincidental that most if not all are 140 characters or less.

  • Sickened by the inaction of both epistemologists and animal rights activists, I am today starting the “FREE SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT” movement.
  • Rene Descartes: “I think; therefore, I am.” Me: “God is; therefore, I thank.”
  • There are some people who think for themselves. There are other people who think they’re thinking for everybody.
  • My word is my bond. I told that to the judge, but she said it was insufficient.
  • Maybe it IS best to live 1 day at a time. I tried living 2 and 3 days at a time during finals week in college, but then I’d crash 2 days.
  • I wish I had a job like Polly and Wally, where I could doodle all the day.
  • Believers in Christ who don’t shoot for perfection ain’t aimin’ high enough. (Matthew 5:48)
  • “Matthew 5:11-12 … Matthew 5:11-12 … Matthew 5:11-12 … ” It’s my mantra today.
  • This year, for Lent, I am going to try to give up judging people. I will not be indulging to celebrate on Sundays, but asking forgiveness.
  • Just had to walk away from “Parenthood.” Love the show. But as an adoptive parent, I couldn’t handle birthmother Zoe’s anguish.
  • Well, they should have called it a “drive-past” window instead of a “drive-thru” window if they didn’t want me to …
  • My favorite president? William Henry Harrison, who died in office after one month, before he could do anything history would have us regret.
  • Fair warning to churches who’ve sent teens to Winterfest: They’ve heard the gospel that frees their souls, not laws which kill their hope.
  • Do sumpin ta bless sumbody t’day.
  • I appreciate Twitter. It teaches me to communicate concisely. Look! 53 characters left!
  • What folks say/write says something about them. Their words – even when they don’t realize it -can be a clue that you need to pray for them.
  • Okay, seriously, Microsoft – at the end of the day, I don’t want to shut down my laptop and wait for 20 minutes while 11 UPDATES INSTALL!
  • If I feel the need to close something I’ve said with “Just sayin’,” then I probably should have swallowed it instead of said it.
  • One thing about growing older that I don’t like is my increasing inability to maintain a coherent where was I going with this?
  • I unlocked the Expert Nonconformist Clueless Apathetic Badge at @ExtremelyBoredPeople !
  • If I liked you better, I might argue with you more.
  • When I express it toward them, it’s “tough love.” When they express it toward me, it’s “persecution.”
  • If there was a way I could get my work done by sitting like a dormant zombie, I’d be ready for today.
  • You haven’t truly received grace until you have been able to show it to others.
  • Masters of transcendental meditation can actually psychically move from a state of Nirvana to a state of Arkansas.
  • Okay, I’m visualizing whirled peas. Now trying it without the blender. Nope, can’t do it without CGI.
  • My dog Roadie would win hands-down at #Westminster if there was a breeding category called “Sweet-Natured Doofus.”
  • There’s a pre-warmed bed waiting for me. But before I get in it I have to shoo the cats off of it. #felinebedwarmers #electricwouldbecheaper
  • When I was little, I wanted to grow up to be Captain Kangaroo. Of course, he passed away years ago, so I’m glad I didn’t get what I wanted.
  • Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m reminding you that geeks need love, too. But a slide rule probably won’t cut it. Unless it was Nimoy’s.
  • It can be difficult to love someone with issues. Especially if it’s years’ worth of issues. Of, like, “Seventeen” or “Boy’s Life.”
  • How to determine if your husband or wife really loves you: First, determine whether you have a husband or wife. Then we’ll go from there.
  • You can tell a lot about a person by the way they insult their spouse and kids.
  • We think news anchors are smart, but they’re not. They say, “See you at 10:00” but TV doesn’t work that way. We see them; they can’t see us.
  • I’m not as afraid of dying since finding out that all sorts of dead people still have access to Twitter.
  • Would like to be able to get a few more things done today before my head finally decides to explode after all.
  • Well, yeah, they’re okay musically. But they never actually fought any foo. #programmersareheroes
  • I’m in a whiny mood and the only thing I have to whine about is that I don’t have anything else to whine about.
  • Keep repenting until it sticks. Then start repenting of something else.
  • Forgive and forget. But don’t forget that you’ve forgiven. (Your turn, @MaxLucado.)
  • Anyone who says, “Scripture says this, but it means that” is selling you something. Be careful what you buy.
  • “Love never fails. Failure to study never passes. Neither does Tony Romo.”
  • Beware of folks who add (only), as in “Faith comes (only) by hearing.” Seeing is believing, too (John 10:38; 20:28).
  • Perfect love drives out fear. Imperfect love drives a Ferrari and wears sunglasses. (Your turn, @TravelingMead.)
  • My village called. They want their idiot back. Homesick and honored. But bummed that I have never even been nominated here.
  • Some days I can only be the tiny moth that feeds on the ill-fitting sweaters knitted from fibers of man-made orthodoxy. Hey, it’s a living.
  • Don’t strain at a Gnat and swallow a Camel. Especially the filter tips. Bleah.
  • It just occurred to me that the most important thing I do today might just be … to pray for someone.
  • My score spread was off, but at least I guessed the right team. You’ve got a 50-50 chance even when you know nothing about the NFL. Like me.
  • At least the Material Girl had sufficient material for her costume … if not her performance.
  • Now we know for certain what we’ve all been wondering about: the Chevy Sonic faithfully obeys the laws of gravity.
  • Patriots 28, Giants 31, Indianapolis $364,000,000, NBC $3.5 million/30-seconds in advertising. That’s my pick of the winners.
  • I wanted to tweet something positive, encouraging, witty, intelligent and inspiring today. Uh … lemme get back to you on that, okay?
  • I saw my shadow today and realized there would be six more weeks of New-Year’s-resolution-diet.
  • I could care less about your apathy. As if it matters to you. Or me.
  • There’s a small number of people who don’t think I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread — but understand, sliced bread is way overrated.
  • I know this will come as a shock for my fans on signing day, but I’ve decided to let my eligibility expire in order to pursue table tennis.
  • @bmitchell42 says she’s interested in a marathon. I love marathons. I could watch ’em all day. Star Trek, Friends, Phineas & Ferb – whatever
  • If his Grace has brought you safe thus far, then you don’t need nobody else takin’ you home.
  • Just had to give a friend bad news: that K-Cups are for Keurigs, not a new bra size. He was heartbroken.
  • I was banished from Farmville with the prestigious Brown Thumb Award and several animal neglect charges.

I promise this is absolutely the next-to-the-last time I will publish more “Maxims of Methuslah Moot.” However, if you would like to experience them as they spring unbidden to the three pounds of goat cheese known as my brain and thence to my keyboard, all you have to do is follow keith_brenton at Twitter.com.

A Word About Labels

/ W. Keith Brenton / 2 Comments

Agin’.

I’m agin’ ’em. Against them, that is, if you’re not from the South. My word about labels is “against.”

Especially labels used within the church of our Lord. “Conservative,” “progressive,” “liberal” — they’re all just designed to facilitate the process of choosing up sides and smelling armpits, as my colorful late uncle Gene Ellmore used to say.

They’re not accurate. There are some who would have you believe that Restoration Movement churches — or at least Churches of Christ — are divided into two warring camps, conservatives and progressives. The more accurate picture of our fellowship is that of a sneeze. You can’t bisect it because it’s all over the place and moving farther apart with every microsecond.

I haven’t said anything about ongoing findings that attendance and membership is shrinking, but I will acknowledge it as researched fact. It is not, of course, just our fellowship but the entire body of believers at large. Labeling each other, calling names, accusing and villifying and pillorying each other is not going to help to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

So I will not use the labels. I will discourage their use. They’re inaccurate and divisive.

(And don’t go quoting “Nicolaitans” at me until you have definite proof who they were and what their beliefs/works were and that they did not call themselves by this name in order to provoke division. Its use in the Revelation is not a license to divide and hate. And by the way, it is the “practices” or “deeds” of the Nicolaitans and what they teach that is hated there.)

There is one body; one church.

We would do well to remember that.

With Many Other Words

/ W. Keith Brenton / 2 Comments

We believers have a tendency to skip right over those words.

The Story here is so wonderful, and we have so much of Peter’s sermon on that first Pentecost, that we like to jump right from “Repent and be baptized!” to “about three thousand were added!”

But there are those words, right there in the middle, verse 40:

Peter replied, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call.”

40With many other words he warned them; and he pleaded with them, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” 41 Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand were added to their number that day. ~ Acts 2:38-41

The sermon wasn’t over with “for all whom the Lord our God will call.”

He warned them and pleaded with them with many other words. It could have been an all-day revival that just started at nine in the morning.

I’ve only got one point to make, and I’m gonna make it as quickly as I can.

There were a lot more than 3,000 people in Jerusalem. Probably most of them had been there since Passover, to enjoy the feast with friends and families. They knew what had happened on that hill outside of the city wall. They knew who Jesus was and what He’d taught and what He’d done; how He died and quite likely the rumors that He was alive again. It was bound to be the talk of the town. Some of them may have welcomed Him into town and threw down their coats in His path. Some of them may have turned on Him and shrieked “Crucify Him!” when He hadn’t turned out to be the kind of deliverer they craved.

But they were there, and they heard the Spirit-wind and the many languages. They saw the tongues like flame. And they knew what Peter was talking about when he went back through their history and literature and prophecy and pointed out all kinds of things that could not have meant anything — in retrsospect — but that Jesus was the Christ, the Messiah they had longed for and their forefathers for generations ahead of them.

Is there a preacher who can’t and wouldn’t like to imagine taking Peter’s place; having an extraordinary revival with 3,000 converts after one powerful, soul-bursting six-minute sermon like his in Acts 2?

But, let’s face it; it ain’t-a-gonna-happen very often these days. Most people don’t know Jesus except as an epithet when something goes wrong. They don’t have a clue about Hebrew history. They barely have a concept of sin beyond something bad that they don’t like. They didn’t pillory the Son of God to a cross with their vocal vote, or see Him there as He died hour by hour, or make the connection between prophecy and reality right before their eyes. And not all of the likely tens of thousands of visitors to/residents of Jerusalem — even the ones who were present to hear the Spirit’s message on Pentecost — said yes to the water and the blood.

Plus it takes time to make disciples. You can stir people and persuade them, perhaps even baptize them in a matter of minutes. But have you made them disciples? Do they know Whom they have believed? Jesus chose twelve men, and with very few short breaks, spent most of three years with them as nearly as we can tell. One of them still turned on Him and the other eleven deserted Him at the moment of truth. Still, they came back from it on Pentecost with a hundred or more friends (Peter didn’t preach alone, you know) to do what God had in mind for them to do — together. That’s discipleship. They communed, shared, prayed and stayed together. When some were arrested, they didn’t scatter like threatened rats; they gathered to pray. That’s discipleship.

I don’t preach. Well, not often. Sometimes I get the urge, but it usually passes after I lie down a while.

But on those rare occasions when I do, I can usually get past the unrealistic ambitions and expectations with a few fairly rational thoughts like these:

The miracle doesn’t always happen.

The audience isn’t always primed.

Preaching is only part of the process.

Discipling takes time.

Not everybody accepts the message.

Three Ways We Shortchange Law and Grace

/ W. Keith Brenton / 8 Comments

First of all, I think we do injustice to God’s instructions in scripture — both testaments — by seeing them as merely law; arbitrary things we must do to gain His favor or to avoid obliteration. Psalm 119 saw the law as an insight into God’s deep love for us, and so did Jesus (Matthew 22:34ff). God gives us instructions for us to become more like Him, not only for our own good, but for the good of all.

Secondly, I think we understand poorly the concept that law has been supplanted by grace in the example and Person and sacrifice of Jesus Christ (John 1:17). Law is not bad, but it is insufficient to save (Galatians 3:21; Hebrews 7:11). Its time and function to lead us has past (Romans 6:14). It is now written on our hearts, which should be much softer than tablets of stone.

Third, God still has instructions for us through Christ. He repealed specific instructions through what He taught, did and suffered – rendering them obsolete: animal sacrifice, priestly tribes, sabbath observance, as examples. They were replaced by much broader, wider, more demanding, more perfect expectations: self-sacrifice, priesthood of all believers, constant spiritual act of worship, etc. But not all were specifically repealed.

Some were specifically reaffirmed. We still are not to commit murder … but neither are we to hate. We are still not to commit adultery … nor are we to look after someone not our spouse with lust, and thereby commit adultery in our hearts.

Some were left as matters of conscience and tradition, not binding on Gentiles.

And some of the 613 precepts of the law just don’t get mentioned at all.

This calls for discernment, which is the gift of the Holy Spirit, and we can ask for it.

Does God still detest divorce (Malachi 2:16) and find remarriage to the original partner detestable (Deuteronomy 24:4)? When did it stop being an abomination to Him, so that some teach it as a requirement to please Him? Does Numbers 23:19 lie about Him changing His mind?

He commands (2 Chronicles 29:25) and is pleased with worship that includes singing accompanied by instruments of music, right through the the Old Testament– see Psalm 150 for a sample. When did He change His mind about this? Why would He not express this change explicitly as Jesus does about the Sabbath? Has He ever failed to tell — no, to SHOW — us what is expected of us?

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” – Micah 6:8

 

This article is expanded from a comment I made at Tim Archer’s blog.

Just Tell The Story

/ W. Keith Brenton / 4 Comments

Some time ago — and I can’t recall where; on what blog or forum — my contention was that we don’t need to judge the eternal predisposition of another person in order to share with them the Story of Jesus.

And it was met with objection. By someone who insisted that we do.

Really?

When you sit down and talk to someone that you barely know and the subject of the Dallas Cowboys comes up, don’t you get an impression fairly quickly about whether that person’s for or agin’ ’em — or they don’t give the first care?

Is it any less true if you talk about Jesus?

If the someone you’re talking to responds enthusiastically and positively, has an interest in the subject and enjoys sharing their own faith, don’t you pretty much know that you’ve found a brother or sister in Christ?

And if the someone you’re talking to displays no real knowledge of Jesus or a negative impression of His followers, or no genuine opinion on the subject either way, don’t you kinda deduce that you’ve met someone who doesn’t really know Christ and needs to?

I’m thinking that I don’t have to go into every conversation with a checklist of doctrinal possibilities and interrogate each person I meet before I can love them and share a table with them and have fellowship with them.

Oh, we may not have fellowship in the Lord; that’s up to Him to determine. But we can have fellowship of the Lord in the same way he dined with all kinds of people at all stages of belief.

And it can start so simply.

Just tell the Story.

Ease right into it just as if you knew what you were getting into.

“Would you mind sharing this table with someone who will have to say a prayer of gratitude even over a tray full of McDonald’s?”

“Is it okay if I ride next to you and read my Bible if I promise not to keep it to myself if I find something cool?”

“I am perplexed by this. Do you see here in John 5 where Jesus says we should eat His flesh and drink His blood. What do you make of that?”

“Do they have to put these tables so close together that a person doesn’t even have room to kneel down and say grace?”

“You look like a normal person. If I told you that I believed some guy two thousand years ago is still alive and was the Son of God, would I start looking abnormal to you?”

“This may sound selfish, but when I see a news report like that, I just want to start praying, ‘Come, Lord Jesus.’ You know?”

“You are a really patient person with all us crazy folks at this table, and I’ve just got to tell you that your servant nature reminds me a whole lot of Jesus Christ. Thanks for serving us today.”

Yes, we believers are a little crazy. A little crazy about the One who gave Himself up for us, so we’d be a little crazier not to give ourselves up for Him. Give up a big tip. Give up a little dignity. Give up a bit of our time and love and self-importance.

If we can’t do those things for a chance at telling His Story, what does that say about us?

logica absurdum

/ W. Keith Brenton / 13 Comments

“Preacher? Oh, hi! I’m glad I caught you at a good time. I just had to tell you about my friend at work!”

“The one you’ve been studying the Bible with at lunchtime?”

“Yes! I’m so excited! We finished talking about the gospels today, and he said he believes that Jesus is the Son of God! He’s accepted Christ as his Savior!”

“Did he now? Well, that’s too bad.”

“Too bad? Excuse me?”

“Yes, too bad. You’ll have to stop teaching him now. In fact, you can’t have any contact with him at all. If you see him, turn your head. Walk away.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“Are you so dull? Your friend believes that Jesus is the Son of God! You said so yourself! But he hasn’t been baptized. Doesn’t recognize it’s necessary for salvation. He’s just like all of the other denominational church-goers out there who think they’re saved without baptism!”

“Well, then I’ll teach him. We were going right into Acts next …”

“You can’t teach people like that! The best thing you can do for them is shun them! Show them your back! Have no fellowship with them until they learn! Maybe they’ll come to their senses and actually read the Bible and come crawling in penitence to the true church, but if not — and in the meantime — what’s happened to your friend is all your fault!”

“My fault?”

“Yes! You should have started with the plan, just like Peter did in Acts 2! There’s always plenty of time afterward to explain to people about Jesus and who they believe in … the important thing is to baptize them now, before something terrible happens and they’re forever damned in a fiery hell! What in the world gave you the idea to preach Jesus first? — And while we’re on the subject of your ineptitude, have you explained to that hapless sister of yours yet what will happen to her if she doesn’t divorce that second husband and remarry her first one?”

The Thrill of the Kill

/ W. Keith Brenton / 50 Comments

Lily Sloane had no difficulty speaking truth to power when she upbraided Jean-Luc Picard in the 1996 film, Star Trek: First Contact:

“Oh, come on, Captain. You’re not the first man to get a thrill out of murdering someone! I see it all the time.”

I have to take it on the word of others that there is such a thrill when murdering. That, and the fascination that young men seem to have with movies and video games which, I suppose, let them vicariously kill.

But I’m afraid I do understand the “thrill” part of the equation.

I’ve never been sure whether my martial-arts-trained friend and college roommate John Caplinger was joking, telling the truth, or both when he said that the best translation for one of the ninja attack shrieks is “I will only kill you a little.”

If you’ll forgive me for conflating the two concepts, I’m acquainted with the thrill of only killing a little. It’s what people do when they correct, criticize, belittle and berate others. Like Lily of the movie’s savage twenty-second century, I see it all the time.

I see it in the internet bulletin boards. In the chat rooms. In the comments of the blogs, and the blogs themselves. In the Facebook groups, open and closed. In the concise 140-character-or-less tweets of Twitter. Words meant to kill.

Just a little.

Oh, yes, I understand the thrill. Beating someone up verbally feels awesome. It makes you feel powerful because they’ve lost and you’ve won. It makes you feel right because they’re wrong. It makes you feel good because they’re evil. It makes you feel better than someone else, because after all, you are.

“Becauses” that are all bull-puckey, of course.

At their root is your judgment, and your judgment is just as flawed as theirs and it is just as flawed as mine. It is human. It is not perfect.

And no one should understand that better than a follower of Christ.

Which is why it should perplex me that I see it so unforgivably often in the bulletin boards, chat rooms, groups, comments and tweets of fellow believers. “Should,” I say. It “would,” if I had not experienced it myself so damnably many times.

I keep repenting of it. I don’t know how many times I have tried to blog my deepest intention to stop judging others, only to get sucked back into the festering muck of it again by some thrill-seeker in the comments of the very same post.

This week it has been with a few folks on a Facebook group who — to my way of perceiving it — want to justify doing what Jesus forbids in Matthew 7:1 and Luke 6:37 by trying to make the case that it is absolutely required to judge others in order to correct others, which is the loving thing to do. What they are called to do. I can’t even begin to comprehend the screwed-up priorities of that kind of thinking. It has called forth more patience in me than I have within to try to respond in kindness rather than in kind, until I finally ran out of it and had to quit before keying in something that Facebook’s Timeline might never let me forget.

(If there is one thing I have learned about folks who really like to argue, it’s that they feel they have won if they get the last word. If there is no response, then their arguments must be irrefutable, and therefore irrefutably right.)

My LIFE Group and I have spent several months studying Greg Boyd’s Repenting of Religion. He makes a strong case for the original sin of Eden being judgment: judgment of two people that God was not trustworthy; judgment that they should take matters into their own, more capable hands and eat the fruit and know for sure instead of having any more truck with this faith stuff.

Boyd builds on this premise of Dietrich Bonhoeffer to propose that the greater part of religion has long been and currently is little more than judgmentalism disguised as righteousness (which is really self-righteousness), rather than religion mirroring the love of God by (in his words) “ascribing unsurpassable worth to others.”

So I’ll just close this one with a question. I’ve already described above the number one reason I believe Christians immerse themselves into the unholy culture of judgment, criticism, abuse and condemnation of others: Self.

What do you believe contributes to it?

Coming Out of the Closet

/ W. Keith Brenton / 52 Comments

I think it’s time to come out of the closet:

I love gay people.

I’m straight, and happily so; married and father of two. But I love gay people.

My brother-in-law David was unabashedly gay, a great and loving uncle to our then two-year-old Matthew before lung cancer, an infection and AIDs conspired to take his life. And for those four short years that I was privileged to know him, I loved David. You almost couldn’t help but love David.

I love gay people. I love straight people. I love rich people. I love poor people. I love skinny people. I love not-so-skinny people. I love people who fearlessly tell the truth. I love people who lie. I love people who cheat and steal and murder; and I love people who don’t. I love people who accuse and judge and condemn others; and I love people who don’t. I love people who hate and I love people who love.

I love them because I’m called to. I love them because Jesus loved them first, and died for them, and lived again so they could too.

I’m not called to judge them. It’s not my job. I’m not good at it. I’m not qualified to do it. I’m not authorized to do it. And even though Jesus knew the hearts of people while He walked this world in sandaled feet, He didn’t come to judge them but to save them and to wash their feet — and their whole bodies — with a baptism of forgiveness.

He will judge later, of course. That’s His job as Son of Man with unsandaled feet that glow like bronze in a smelting furnace and a heart that knows every heart and two eyes that see every action and two ears that hear every word. He’s qualified. He’s authorized. He’s God.

I am called to love, and that’s what I intend to do. I am not much better at loving people than I am at judging them. But I am dedicated to getting better at loving them and to stop judging them altogether.

Some people are harder to love than others. Some people aren’t hard to love at all. We’re all different. God loves us all. Jesus died for us all.

Then instead of coming out of a closet, He came out of a tomb. And then He sent us out to love as He loved; to forgive as He forgave; and to tell and live His Story before everyone who would listen and see.

Everyone. All the world.

Love them.

Tell the Story.

Let it — and Him — work His miracle in their lives. That’s how it works.

I want to be part of that.

So I will start by loving.

Grace, Good Things, and Lazarus

/ W. Keith Brenton / 4 Comments

We know the story and it teases, taunts and mystifies us:

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20 At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.

22 “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24 So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’

25 “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26 And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’

27 “He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, 28 for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’

29 “Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’

30 “‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’

31 “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’” ~ Luke 16:19-31

I’ve been criticized in the last few months for proposing that perhaps not all mankind is totally depraved, and that those who hear and believe are recipients of a promise of salvation, but that salvation is not necessarily denied to those who haven’t heard.

So I just wanted to bring up this little story that Jesus told and point out that (whatever His point in relating it was at the moment), the poor man Lazarus in this story dies and receives eternal comfort. He is not commended for exceptional behavior nor for his faith in God nor for any attribute of his life over which he seemed to have control.

The difference between Lazarus and the rich man in torment was that in life Lazarus received bad things and the rich man received good things.

And if this story has any value at all in describing the afterlife (and I believe it does; a second value in addition to describing the unwillingness of some in Jesus’ lifetime who would not believe in resurrection), then its secondary value may well be in pointing out that God saves whom He wishes to save. He is sovereign. He is free to do that.

That does not mean that He will necessarily save everyone; it’s not even implied. The Lord gives life to whomever He wills:

For just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, even so the Son gives life to whom he is pleased to give it. ~ John 5:21

Is Lazarus an example of this unqualified grace and mercy? A way Jesus meant to communicate it? What are your reasons for thinking so — or not?

Feel free to discuss among yourselves.

Possible Reasons Why God Conceals

/ W. Keith Brenton / 9 Comments

Yes, I know that the Bible is God’s revelation of Himself to man these days. Yes, I know that some maintain that the Bible can be read and understood by anyone. (I suppose, excepting those who speak a language to which the Bible has not been translated. Or people who have not been trained to read. Or people who are mentally challenged and can’t read. Or small children.)

But surely no reasonable person can maintain that God reveals everything about Himself in scripture, or that everything in scripture is crystal clear, or that every conclusion a person can draw from scripture can be relied upon with absolute certainty.

(Oh, wait. Maybe I’d better go back and review the comments from my last post.)

So let me put it this way: I don’t know anyone who can answer all of God’s questions to Job. I don’t know anyone who knows the exact time and date of Jesus’ return. I don’t know anyone who knows for absolute certainty what heaven is like or the biological characteristics of the resurrected body or the complete and literal story of angels, Satan, hell or judgment.

I have to conclude that there are a lot of things that scripture hints at, but does not fully describe; a lot of things it mentions, but does not go into detail about.

And if we believe that God’s Holy Spirit inspired scripture and perhaps even had a hand in the selection of materials in its canon … then we probably believe that God reveals in it, yet also conceals.

If so … why would He do this?

Let me offer a few possible reasons:

  1. The nature of faith. Faith is not fact (Hebrews 11:1). In His wisdom, God has decided that people who have not seen yet have believed are blessed (John 20:29). Those who believe are recipients of a promise (Acts 16:31; Romans 10:9).
  2. Our need to recognize God’s superiority. It makes us humble and brings penitence (Job 42:1-6; Isaiah 55:7-8) to realize that we cannot understand everything that God understands.
  3. Our need recognize our own inferiority compared to God. The fact is, there are things God does and knows that we simply can’t understand (Ecclesiastes 11:5; 1 Kings 8:39; Matthew 9:4; John 5:42).
  4. Our tendency to become conceited when much is revealed to us (2 Corinthians 12:17). Especially when we need to be humble (Romans 12:3) as Christ humbled Himself (Philippians 2).
  5. It is good for us to wonder about what is not revealed and meditate on it (Psalm 119:27 – see the entire chapter; Psalm 145:5; 2 Corinthians 3:18). There is blessing in doing so (Psalm 1).
  6. God wants us to ask for His help in understanding. There was no bound, collected Bible in the first century – nor for several centuries to come. There was never an indication in scripture that scripture alone was or ever would be the only way in which He reveals Himself. He promises to give us His Holy Spirit when we ask (Luke 11:13) and obey (Acts 5:32), and among the Spirit’s gifts are to aid in understanding (John 14:26), expression (1 Corinthians 12:13), and integrity of memory (2 Timothy 1:13-14). Jesus deliberately concealed some of His teaching in parables and intentionally waited for His disciples to ask their meaning (Luke 8). Was He withholding information? Only from those who didn’t ask.
  7. God wants us to ask for the community of others in understanding. An Ethiopian reading prophetic scripture was asked by Philip if he understood. His answer: “How can I, unless someone explains to me?” (Acts 8:30-31ff). Sharing understanding of scripture was to be part of gathered worship (1 Corinthians 14:29-31). We should instruct one another (Romans 15:14).
  8. God wants us to be discerning. That doesn’t mean that all knowledge and wisdom is handed to us, literally, word-for-word; but that — in addition to asking for help from His Spirit and from community of others who want to learn — we work for it and the labor adds value to what we discern. As a result of yearning and discerning (as opposed to shrugging and mocking), knowledge comes more easily (Proverbs 14:6). It speaks of our respect for Him (Proverbs 1:7).
  9. God wants us to understand that knowledge isn’t everything. In 1 Corinthians 8:1, Paul said it this way: ” … We know that ‘We all possess knowledge.’ But knowledge puffs up while love builds up.” In chapter 13, he will explain how absolutely vital love is: “… where there is knowledge, it will pass away. … these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

This last possible reason — to me — is perhaps the most deeply resonant one.

I’ve blogged before (Sunday Morning in a Garden) about the principle John communicates in saying on that blessed resurrection day:

Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed.  (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.)

~ John 20:8-9

They saw and believed … even though they didn’t understand the scripture.

That is still possible for us: to believe even though we don’t fully understand every detail about God from scripture, or even about scripture itself. It is not by our level of understanding that we are judged; or by the accuracy of our interpretation that we are saved.

It is by grace through faith (Romans 5:2; Ephesians 2:8).