he who has eyes...

“For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin.” [Romans 6:6]

A few comments were made on a previous post has completely revealed (read: exposed) the nature of the posts: in the words of Drew, postings on this blog are to be considered ”musings and random thoughts about God” because “anything I could say could be developed into a lengthy thesis” (ed. note: this is not to say I was upset about any comments or discussion thus spawned – far from it! ~Drew) 

Well, brothers and sisters*, I hope ya’ll’re in the mood for a lengthy thesis.

C.S. Lewis in his book Mere Christianity notes that a gradual semantic shift happens over time — his example traces the shift in the meaning of “gentleman” from meaning “a male born into nobility” to it’s present day of “being male”. I have experienced a similar shift with the phrases “shell-shocked” “post traumatic stress syndrome” “Combat stress reaction” and “English as a Second Language” “English Language Learner”. While there are subtle shifts in meaning with each iteration, the problem is two-fold: a widening of the semantic range — the acceptable range of meanings for a single word — results in a loss of objective definition. (Consider how “flammable” and “inflammable” mean the same thing, or how “cool” went from a measure of temperature to a measure of awesome.)

Gentleman, according to Lewis, originally meant a man of noble birth, and would entail the person having a coat of arms and enabled that person to own land. Certain “virtues” were associated with being a gentleman, so (very naturally) those characteristics were folded into the definition. After that, it came only to mean those characteristics; often it is used only in the sense of “ladies and gentlemen” — a grown-up way of saying “boys and girls”.

When I was an English tutor at UIC’s writing center, I ran afoul with the use of “English as a second language” (ESL). The problem is that the phrase is inadequate in labeling the phenomenon: a person born in India who went through the British education system, while being ESL, does not have the same problems that my Chinese father does. The proper term, I was told, is English Language Learner. (Never mind the fact that my father is objectively ESL and that ELL subjectively encompasses the globe.)

At this point, it seems that a gradual change in meaning mirrors real-world conditions — as people use words and find their definitions inadequate (or unnecessary), the definitions change.

I was given this same reason to explain why politicians waffle on issues — they must mirror the real-word opinions and beliefs of their constituents.

Wait, what?

While “representatives” should be “representing”, political platforms should have a moral, not popular, basis. Ethics is not an exercise in democracy; unfortunately, it seems that contemporary laws are being founded less by morality and more by expediency. The problem comes when politics mixes objective political platforms — sound economic or foreign policy — with subjective opinions fueled by the populace. Just as I would not want popular opinion to raise my child or give me brain surgery or fly a fighter jet, I want the political discourse to be grounded in objective fact.

In an analogous way, it seems acceptable for people to define words as they please — de jure words are defined by lexicographers and dictionaries but de facto they are defined by the people who use them. Seeing as we cannot prescribe definitions (much to our chagrin) we should take time out to describe them.

In a narrower sense, we must define our words in the way that the Bible would use them; our definition of fasting should be defined by the contour traced throughout Biblical history. In the case of fasting, our original definition would come from Leviticus 16:29 (a command about the Day of Atonement), a major redefinition done in Isaiah 58, Jesus’ reactions to fasting (or even his fast in Matthew 4:2), and the guidelines given to the early church (Acts 13:1-3).

In a similar way, I will attempt to define “sinner” by the way the Bible uses it. If it seems that I am playing a “semantics game,” I am — what else can we base our identity off of but a definition of what (or Whom) we should be identical to? I am assuming that everyone reading this is somewhat biblically literate, and therefore will head towards the end of the New Testament with an examination of Paul’s thoughts (hence his mugshot at the top of this post.)

Romans 1-3 is clear in pointing out the sorry state that all humankind is in — all have sinned (Romans 3:23) and God’s judgment is both terrible and righteous (Romans 2:5-11).

Romans 5:19 tells us that we are constituted sinners, that is, we are made sinners. As Watchman Nee points out in The Normal Christian Life, we are not sinners because we sin, but rather we sin because we are sinners.

Romans 5:8 shows us of God’s gracious provision: the propitiating sacrifice of Jesus Christ. It is most important to note in verse eight the presence of the word “still”. Still, in this sense, implies a situation that has definite length that could change — “while we were still sinners” implies that the length of time “we were sinners” was definite and it is possible for that situation to change. Indeed, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:17 that “anyone who is in Christ is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!”. (The whole argument of 2 Corinthians 5:11-21 hinges on the ministry of reconciliation (v.20) which is predicated by the work of Jesus Christ (v.21).)

Paul’s idea of the “new creation” is fleshed out (pun intended) on the individual level in Romans 6:5-14, that we should reckon ourselves dead unto sin but alive unto Christ. Reckoning here does not represent some “will” or “thought” or “wishful thinking” but rather represents “accounting”; no amount of meditation and repetition will transform the nickel in my pocket into a quarter, and no amount of wishful thinking will transform us from our old nature. And yet we reckon — why? (Hint: because God does the reckoning first.)

Paul speaks analogically with an example of marriage in Romans 7:1-6, saying that the requirements of the law only affect the living, not the dead. Since I was constituted a sinner (by what means — genetics, society, language — it matters not, the results are the same!) when I die I am no longer a sinner. Paul is explicit of our co-crucifixion — saying that our baptism into Jesus Christ was the baptism into his death (Romans 6:3).

Don’t gloss over that sentence. Did you miss it? I missed it for years. Here is a hint:

• We were therefore buried with him… (v. 4 )
• … our old self was crucified with him … (v. 6 )
• Now if we died with Christ … (v. 8 )

Notice the past tense in all the sentences. What Paul is saying is that we have died with Christ. “With” implies that the events happened at the same time; if I say I went to dinner with a friend, I imply that we were united not only in goal, action, and purpose but in time. There is nothing that predicates our death save the Lord’s almost two-thousand years ago! Christ’s death is sufficient for all and effective for those who believe.

So we have determined that we are constituted sinners by Adam but constituted righteous by faith in Christ ( “baptism into his death” ) … yet I struggle with sin — and not confessing so would be sin (1 John 1:8)!

Wait, what?

Let’s look at something equally confusing for a moment: the Kingdom.  A primary tension that we must deal with throughout Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels is the Kingdom — is it here? is it now? will it come?

Yes.

Kingdom theology is a time-frame shift and perspective change. Without going into further detail, consider that God has been working redemption since the fall of Adam (his son could already offer a sacrifice to please God) all the way until Jesus; redemption has been secured with the birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus. In some sense, redemption was inevitable - it would definitely come in some form and in God’s time.

Why didn’t God just zap us instead of working through thousands of years of history? Who knows.

(My inability to answer that question has something to do with my conspicuous absence when the earth’s foundation were laid and my lack of access to the storehouses of snow (Job 38).)

With that, our righteousness (”sainthood”) is not predicated by our feelings nor lack of evidence nor even evidence to the contrary. Habitual sin (as if there were another kind) does not revoke our identity as saints. Our identity was set by the accepting through faith the grace of God – the finished work of Jesus Christ. Our present is set, our future is inevitable – all because the one who promises is good. Just as the kingdom is verily present in this world, so our sainthood is verily present in our individual lives.

This is not to gloss over the flip-side — just as we may even talk of the unredeemed world, the powers and systems and thrones and dominions, we may count ourselves “chief among sinners” (1 Tim 1:15) or refer to the unregenerate state of fellow believers (James 4:6-8).  Remember that hope in the things unseen does not manifest the invisible, that love doesn’t automatically heal the wounds or undo the loss.  That God so loved the world that he sent his only Son is not amazing just because it’s the whole world but because sin is so odious.  We are still capable of any sin;  Romans 4-8 does not undo Romans 1-3.

“But God…” is probably the most powerful phrase in the Bible for me — God is greater than our sins!  Our identity is secure, even from self-sabotage.  And until that day when the perfect comes (1 Cor 13:10), we were merely be inevitable saints and unfortunate sinners.  Please remember that in John 11 Lazarus was raised for this very purpose — that Jesus might attest to resurrection.  Yes, Sadducees, there is an eternal resurrection.  Yes, brothers and sisters*, that life is now — for what else could be life to the fullest (John 10:10)?

The original posts sought to restore a balance and tension between the theology of glory — a rejoicing in the finished work of Christ — and the theology of the cross — a deep anguish over our depraved state. Just as the Kingdom is here and not yet and, in the end, inevitable and the greater spiritual truth, our identity as sinner and saint must take on an eschatological perspective. Let us view ourselves with resurrection eyes.

* Greek: brothers