Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The Offense






The Offense

    We've probably all been offended at one time or another, perhaps by a poorly chosen word or a perceived slight, a lapse of manners or lack of courtesy by others.  Often these are accidental, though sometimes we find them difficult to excuse.  Other offenses, such as that which we should feel (and respond to) when the Lord's Name is misused [Q&A 99] are far more serious, but most, if we look closely, are not so much active offenses against us as overactive defenses of our own pride.  An offense is best defined as an active effort -- where no offense is meant, none should be taken, and scripture warns us generally to avoid causing offense.  But there is an exception, an offense which is required of us, which is in fact at the heart of what defines Christianity itself.  In 1st Corinthians 1:23 the Greek word used is skandalon, "scandal."  Galatians 5:11 states it clearly: the Gospel itself depends on an offense, "the offense of the cross."

    In this season it is common to hear much about one offensive aspect of the cross, as various writers and speakers inform us of the horrific torture and death which surrounded the barbaric practice of crucifixion.  The medical and psychological effects were terribly offensive, to be sure, and purposely so.  But this aspect of Calvary is not the Gospel; those who shake their listeners' emotions to wrest from them a sobbing profession of pity have failed to fully grasp, and in many instances completely missed, the purpose of preaching.  "Passion Plays," and even a major motion picture of a few years ago, make this mistake, promoting an attitude which falls barely short of asking us to save Christ rather than the opposite.  This is not the offense of which, through Paul, the Holy Spirit speaks.

    Another view of "the offense of the cross" is found in images of that instrument of death.  The early New Testament Church, most of us have been taught, used the symbol of the fish, Ichthus, to represent Christianity.  A few centuries later the lamb came into fairly common use as a symbol of Christ.  Sometime around the sixth century, the image of the cross began to be adopted within the Church.  Over time, as Rome exerted more power over the Church, this symbol became more elaborate and eventually developed into the crucifix.  Though defended by Rome as a means of teaching, the use of the crucifix was (and remains) idolatry.  Superstition elevated this image to the level of magic, believing "the offense of the cross" to be some mystical power the image held over evil.  It was this belief which appears to underlie the original use of the cross as a grave marker, a supposed means to ward off evil spirits.  Today the cross is frequently seen worn as jewelry by many who are far from the Christian faith; clearly the image of the cross does not instruct, nor is that image truly an offense to those outside Christianity.  As an idol, however, the image is an offense to God, certainly not the offense meant in Galatians 5.

    John Calvin deals decisively with the entire question of the physical image of the cross.  In the Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book 1, Chapter 11, he argues as follows: "Paul declares, that by the true preaching of the gospel Christ is portrayed and in a manner crucified before our eyes, (Gal. 3:1.) Of what use, then, were the erection in churches of so many crosses of wood and stone, silver and gold, if this doctrine were faithfully and honestly preached, viz., Christ died that he might bear our curse upon the tree, that he might expiate our sins by the sacrifice of his body, wash them in his blood, and, in short, reconcile us to God the Father? From this one doctrine the people would learn more than from a thousand crosses of wood and stone."

    First Corinthians shows us the true meaning of "the offense of the cross."  It is not the mere physically offensive description of the crucifixion, and it is most certainly not the offense of idolatry.  Rather, the cross of Christ is an offense to works righteousness, for we cannot save ourselves.  It is an offense to reason, for it depends entirely on faith.  The cross is an offense to the social structure, for the truth of it is revealed to babes and children and makes wise the simple; it offends the powerful for it displays, demands and is revealed to humility.  And most offensive of all, it offends human pride, for it requires surrender.  The offense of the cross, the foolishness of preaching, is the one thing which can make us wise unto salvation and remove our own offenses.

    "I live and will declare Thy fame
    Where brethren gather in Thy Name;
    Where all Thy faithful people meet,
    I will Thy worthy praise repeat."
                        [Psalter Hymnal #34]

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Gary Fisher

Embellishment






Embellishment
 
    In his 1931 Presidential Address to the American Historical Association, historian Carl Becker suggested a definition of history as "a foreshortened and incomplete representation of the reality that once was."  To an extent his point was that no historical record is likely to include every detail, nor would such a record be necessarily useful -- we need not have the name of Churchill's tobacconist to know he smoked cigars.  However, Professor Becker went beyond this, adding in the same sentence that history may legitimately include "an unstable pattern of remembered things redesigned and newly colored to suit the convenience of those who make use of it."
 
    Recently my wife and I enjoyed a pleasant evening with friends screening a film which purported to recount the history of an English political leader who was compelled by his Christian convictions to campaign against a monstrous injustice.  Because of its Christian theme, the film had achieved significant success not only in its theatrical release but among the Christian community as well, and has in fact been shown in over 5,000 churches.  Beautifully photographed, well casted, the film might have been very satisfying had it been presented as fiction; unfortunately, though offered as history, the story had, to use Becker's words, been "redesigned and newly colored to suit the convenience of" the producers.  Numerous details, some small, some of great significance, had been altered, added or removed, presumably to enhance the dramatic appeal of the story; in the process, history and fiction became so mingled as to become indistinguishable.
 
    Embellishment is "To make more beautiful and attractive; to decorate; To make something sound or look better or more acceptable than it is in reality, to distort," according to one dictionary, and it is that last phrase, "to distort," which reveals the true nature of the practice.  Embellishment is nothing new; even before partaking of the forbidden fruit, Eve embellished God's command [Genesis 3:3], adding to it in a way which might have seemed quite innocent but which in fact opened the door to further distortions.  In the case of the film we watched, as in every "docudrama," the introduction of seemingly innocent falsehoods, embellishments, may have made the story more interesting but diluted and thus tarnished the truth.  The danger, of course, is that just as pure water mixed with mud is no longer pure, truth mixed with falsehood is no longer true.
 
    The Church has long struggled with our human tendency toward embellishment.  Virtually every heresy has arisen from "additions" to the truth of God's Word.  Roman Catholocism is deeply mired in "traditions" which may once have been such embellishments but have grown in many aspects to supersede the Holy Scriptures.  But the Reformed community is not immune to the temptations which have ensnared the Church in the past.  Many of these come before us as "improvements" to worship, careless and perhaps even well-meant disobedience of the Second Commandment's prohibition against worshipping God "in any other manner than He has commanded in His Word." [Catechism Answer 96]  These  temptations often arise in our music, where, amidst what may well be good theology, an extrabiblical or even decidedly unbiblical phrase is woven into a popular hymn.  Perhaps the most insidious and dangerous of these embellishments, however, are those which appear in materials used to teach our children.  Pastors and Elders spend countless hours evaluating Catechism and, in some churches, Sunday School curricula, much of which is tainted by error, the Gospel "redesigned and newly colored to suit the convenience of those who make use of it."  I well recall a conversation some years ago with a widow in her seventies whose faith was shaken by an error she had believed since childhood, learned at the knee of a well-meaning but misinformed Sunday School teacher.
 
    In many churches, committees are now preparing for summer missions activities, often including Vacation Bible School programs.  Sadly, most of the published VBS materials available today, including some promoted by publishers associated with the Reformed churches, are filled with such embellishments.  The intention, as in the film we saw, is presumably to make the story more engaging and appealing, but adding to the truth actually detracts from it.  We must be diligent, in our own reading and entertainment but especially in that of our children, to reject and flee from that which conflicts with God's Word.
 
"For I testify to everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: If anyone adds to these things, God will add to him the plagues that are written in this book." [Revelation 22:18]
 
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Gary Fisher

Our Task






Our Task

    A constant refrain which has played in the background throughout much of our generation is the now-familiar chorus "You can't legislate morality."  Like a pervasive advertising jingle, this statement, in one form or another, has bounced through our minds so often that we are unlikely even to question it, yet like Goebbels' "big lie" it is accepted only because it has been so often, and so loudly, repeated.  It is impossible to legislate the will, of course -- neither court, nor congress, nor constitution can alter the convictions, right or wrong, of the individual citizen -- but in fact, a standard of morality is precisely and only what IS legislated.

    "Morality" is defined as "(1) The quality of being in accord with standards of right or good conduct; (2) A system of ideas of right and wrong conduct: religious morality; Christian morality; (3) Virtuous conduct."  Each of these refers to or implies a model or standard of behavior which is accepted as universally true, whether that behavior is the speed at which one drives through a residential neighborhood or the way in which two people may settle property issues.  We consider these standards "universal" at least in the sense that, for example, the speed limit does not vary to accommodate those from other areas where speed limits might be different.  Nor do we -- or at least did we -- adopt these models of behavior arbitrarily; rather, it has been our practice, especially in democracies, to choose and define our standards very carefully, very seriously -- to debate, then legislate.  The result is laws which impose such standards of behavior only on those who are not already predisposed to behave in the manner those laws define.  The person who recognizes as a matter of common sense that driving fast on a shadowed residential street is irresponsible does not need a posted speed limit to restrain him; the law exists as a model, a standard, for those who might, if left to themselves, act otherwise.

    It is the source of those standards which must especially concern us as Christians in the world, but we must likewise train ourselves and our children how to deal with the standards of behavior the world would impose upon us, for they could very well, as in the past they often did, force us to wrestle with the decision faced by the apostles in Acts 5:29 -- "But Peter and the other apostles answered and said: "We ought to obey God rather than men.""  All of the apostles were persecuted and imprisoned for living according to that decision, that standard of behavior -- and almost all were killed for doing so.  This has been the pattern for believers since before the time of Enoch, who "... prophesied about these men also, saying, "Behold, the Lord comes with ten thousands of His saints, to execute judgment on all, to convict all who are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds which they have committed in an ungodly way, and of all the harsh things which ungodly sinners have spoken against Him."" [Jude 14b, 15]

    This is the purpose of the efforts we must make toward renewal as Christians -- not ultimately to change the way we behave in church, but how we behave AS Church, as members of Christ's Body.  As Christians it is not our duty merely to sit on the sidelines and comment among ourselves about society -- as we have too often done in the past -- but first of all to act and live according to God's model of behavior regardless of the whims of secular society; and second to do all we are able, as individual citizens, to influence that society according to God's perfect model, His law.  Where Christians in Europe and North America have neglected this duty, having failed to hold back the wind, it is now more vital than ever to equip the next generation to face the whirlwind.  And yet we have this comfort -- "that all things must be subservient to my salvation, and therefore, by his Holy Spirit, [God] also assures me of eternal life, and makes me sincerely willing and ready, henceforth, to live unto him." [Catechism Ans. 1]

"And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." [Romans 12:2]

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Gary Fisher

The Conversation






The Conversation
 
    Some of the most memorable passages from literature are the soliloquies, those speeches in which a character reveals his or her inmost thoughts, as though the reader or audience could listen to the mind of the character.  There are few, for example, who would not recognize the soliloquy which begins "To be, or not to be: that is the question ..." from Shakespeare's "Hamlet"  That such lines stand so clearly in our memories is not surprising; this dramatic form is intended specifically to draw a mental picture of the character who utters it.  The soliloquy has no purpose but to create an impression in the minds of those who, quite intentionally, "overhear" it, and thus is crafted specifically for that audience.
 
    Christian prayer can never be a soliloquy; in fact, when He taught us to pray, our Lord identified the soliloquy as the very opposite of proper prayer.  In Matthew 6:5, we can almost picture the hypocrites -- the Greek word is one which means "actors" -- posing before a crowd, "For they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men."  No matter how beautifully composed, no matter how spiritual they may sound, such prayers are directed not to God but to a human audience, and from Jesus' dismissal -- "they have their reward" -- it appears they go no farther.
 
    The word "monologue" is often used as a synonym for "soliloquy," but in fact has an entirely different meaning.  While the dramatic soliloquy is openly directed to the audience, the monologue is ostensibly directed to another character or characters.  Returning to Shakespeare, one well known monologue begins "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears."  With this opening, the character of Antony defines his audience; what follow are his petitions to those "friends, Romans and countrymen."  The Christian's prayer is sometimes offered as though it were a monologue.  Beginning with an address (in a manner sometimes reminiscent of a written letter) the prayer continues with a list of items falling into various categories -- petition, praise, intercession and so on -- proceeding finally to a closing statement and an "Amen."  Such a prayer may be perfect in style, but oh! -- what treasures are missed when prayer becomes such a one-way exchange!
 
    That the Christian's prayer is heard we can have no doubt.  Our Catechism reminds us that we are to "be fully persuaded that He, notwithstanding that we are unworthy of it, will, for the sake of Christ our Lord, certainly hear our prayer, as He has promised us in His Word." [Q&A 117]  That the Christian's prayer is necessary is equally sure; it is, after all, "the chief part of the thankfulness which God requires of us." [Q&A 116a]  But the second part of Answer 116 shows us a glimpse of the richness of true prayer.  The Catechism, pointing us as always to Holy Scripture, shows that "God gives His grace and Holy Spirit only to those who pray continually and groan inwardly, asking God for these gifts and thanking Him for them."
 
    This is the "secret" of a blessed prayer-life, and yet no secret at all; prayer cannot be a soliloquy, ought not be a monologue, but, if we will simply listen, becomes a dialogue, a two-way conversation.  Like all listening, this requires that we pay close attention to the One with whom we would converse, and for that He has given us His Word, the Bible.
 
    "At early dawn I prayed, Thy promises my trust;
     At night I thought upon Thy Word, Most holy and most just."
                            [Psalter Hymnal 254:1]
 
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Gary Fisher