Joint Heirs

The New Testament presents us as joint heirs with Jesus (Romans 8.17), having a share in the dominion of God (1 Corinthians 6.2-3), and promises we will one day rule with Christ in new creation.

Then I saw thrones, and the people sitting on them had been given the authority to judge. And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded for their testimony about Jesus and for proclaiming the word of God. They had not worshiped the beast or his statue, nor accepted his mark on their foreheads or their hands. They all came to life again, and they reigned with Christ for a thousand years.

This is the first resurrection. (The rest of the dead did not come back to life until the thousand years had ended.) Blessed and holy are those who share in the first resurrection. For them the second death holds no power, but they will be priests of God and of Christ and will reign with him a thousand years.

–Revelation 20.4-6

The time for ruling will come, but right now we’re meant primarily to thwart the purposes of the enemy, fighting a spiritual battle against darkness, oppression, and control. We are called to oppose the sour and cultivate the sweet in anticipation of the rightful king resuming his throne. 

Concordantly, much of the language in the New Testament could be considered seditious. Jesus’ followers referred to him as the King of kings and Lord of lords, yet that title was historically preserved for Caesar alone. Caesar was called King of kings and Lord of lords because, as he expanded the Roman Empire, he required other kings and other lords to swear him fealty. Caesar was the kings’ “king.” 

The act of calling Jesus The King of the King of kings was tantamount to declaring Caesar’s power presumptuous, pretentious, and flaccid. 

For the earliest Christians, their justification in calling Jesus King of kings and Lord of lords concerned Christ’s ability to gather people from multiple ethnicities, socioeconomic classes and geographical regions. Whereas Caesar “gathered” the Gauls and the Greeks through military force and called it Pax Romana, Jesus gathered Jews, Greeks, Scythians, Phoenicians, Philippians, Colossians, Meads, Mesopotamians, Libyans, Romans, Cretans, and Arabs by welcoming them into the Pax Christi—the peace of Christ that comes through knowing God (Acts 2.9-11). 

What Rome forced, the church grew. The threat of Roman violence ensured the Pax Romana. The promise of Christ himself incarnated the Pax Christi. 

 And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.

—Colossians 3.15

Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

—Philippians 4.7

Corpse to Conqueror

Revelation 7.9-17

The most miserable experience of my life was running the Chicago marathon. I’m not a runner, but my friend Randy asked me to do run and he was a tough man to refuse. Near the end, I was bedraggled, exhausted, crying, and broken. I just wanted it to be over. But as I approached the final mile, waves of spectators began cheering me on. They were only there to do that. What beautiful people! Their encouragement got me quickly over the finish line and I was immediately given a silver jacket, a participant’s medal, a bottle of water, and something to eat. I went from corpse to conqueror in one swift second.

That’s the picture of martyrdom in Revelation.

You die bedraggled, hungry, poor, bleeding. But as you approach the end, you hear the crowd-noise from heaven. The elders and the creatures and the angels and the multitudes energize you to finish well. And when you bleed across the border between life and life-after-death, they give you a white robe, a victor’s branch, and a song.

You come into glory brilliantly, and he wipes the sweat off your brow and the tears from your eyes and tells you you’ll never have to do that again.

Recommended Reading for Revelation: Comfort and Protest

Written during the height of the apartheid struggles in South Africa, Comfort and Protest by Allan Boesak gives us a study of Revelation in light of oppression and suffering. Looking at the church’s relationship to the world, this book provides a vision of love and justice and a message of hope in the midst of persecution and despair. 

A unique perspective on Revelation, Boesak’s commentary is filled with passion and a call for justice and the defeat of evil. 

“The Apocalypse speaks not only of the suffering of the faithful,” says Boesak, “It speaks also of the destruction of evil and the victory of the Lamb.”    

Find a used copy here or here.                

A King in Disguise

Imagine a far-off kingdom, ruled by a tyrannical dictator. He stole the throne while the rightful king was away, and he’s terrified the people are going to rise up against him. This dictator executes everyone who speaks against him, seizing their property and assets. 

Imagine the real king shows up in disguise, like Robin Hood sneaking into Prince John’s castle. The king looks like a beggar. But his people know him. And he works quietly in the shadows, garnering support, preparing them for a revolution. The seeds of the revolution are sown quickly, but quietly. 

In their secret meetings, the rebels refer to their proper ruler as The King, even though he has not yet regained his throne. In public, the rebels go about living their everyday lives under the thumb of the dictator, but secretly everything they do is working to subvert the fraud and replace him with the true king. 

The King promises to rid his people of the tyrant and invites them to be his co-regents, ruling the kingdom at his side. The rebels come to understand they won’t simply be ruled; they will rule alongside their master. Their anticipation quickly turns to excitement as they gather together, communicate with one another, and imagine what life will be like in the future kingdom. But, for the moment, the reality consists more in subversion than in authority. Right now, they focus their efforts on thwarting the dictator’s purposes, so more and more people come to understand he’s not worth following. 

All the language in the New Testament concerning Jesus’ kingship presents him as a king in disguise. In the gospels, it’s clear Satan has some measure of authority over the world, but he’s a fraud. Satan has absconded the throne God intended for men. The story of Jesus’ sacrificial death and subsequent resurrection is the story of God stealing it back. Ultimately Satan will be routed from the earth completely, and things will once again be the way God intended. 

But for the moment, we find ourselves living in contested territory.

Suffer Well

Revelation 7.1-8

Three things stick out to me in this section of the Bible (commonly called “the interlude” between the sixth and seventh seals). First—there’s a warning to the church. The substance of that warning? Things are only going to get worse. The more closely you cling to Christ, the more greatly you will suffer. The world hates him, and hates those who love him. In this clash of kingdoms, those who stay faithful will suffer.

Second—there’s an assurance given to the church. The basis for that assurance? You’ll get through it. You won’t get through it unscathed. You may die. But you’ll come through this incredibly miserable season of life and out into something better on the other side. The “other side” may involve resurrection, however; so don’t think for a minute that this is going to be easy. But neither should you lose heart.

And why not?

This is the third thing that sticks out. You have been sealed with the mark of Christ, and he will give you the strength to suffer well. John holds out a promise to all those who endure that everything will be worth it in the End.

If that seems trite to you, or glib somehow, then I suggest you hold off on your judgments. We’re early in the book. We’ve still got one more seal, seven more trumpets, two sets of unnumbered visions, a dragon, two beasts, a harlot riding a third hideous creature, the ultimate dissolution of evil, the recreation of the world, and the pressing presence of God Almighty dwelling with, in, and among his people in a heavenly city transported to earth.

The promise of reward only seems glib when we don’t know what will be required for us to receive our inheritance.

Habits of the Heart Part 2

There are two main habits of the heart; renewing the mind and putting the sinful nature to death.

Our mind is the control room for our behaviors. Whether consciously or subconsciously, deliberately or as a reaction to some stimuli or another, everything we do begins in our mind. Consequently, once we give him our heart, God is next primarily concerned with our mind. Having secured our allegiance, he now wants to give us a software update, to redefine our standard operating procedure.

Romans 12.1-2 says:

And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all he has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice—the kind he will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship him. Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.

Every day, and in every moment, you must be constantly renewing your mind, letting God transform you into the person he wants you to be. This transformation is not instantaneous; it’s perpetual. It requires constant vigilance. Over time, you will notice a gap forming between the person you used to be and the person you are becoming. Your behavior will conform to your beliefs when you invite the spirit of God to change you from the inside out.

As your beliefs and behaviors continue to align, you will increasingly put to death your sinful nature.

Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God. And when Christ, who is your life, is revealed to the whole world, you will share in all his glory.

So put to death the sinful, earthly things lurking within you. Have nothing to do with sexual immorality, impurity, lust, and evil desires. Don’t be greedy, for a greedy person is an idolater, worshiping the things of this world. Because of these sins, the anger of God is coming. You used to do these things when your life was still part of this world. But now is the time to get rid of anger, rage, malicious behavior, slander, and dirty language. Don’t lie to each other, for you have stripped off your old sinful nature and all its wicked deeds. Put on your new nature, and be renewed as you learn to know your Creator and become like him. In this new life, it doesn’t matter if you are a Jew or a Gentile, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbaric, uncivilized, slave, or free. Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us.

Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you.

Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.

Let the message about Christ, in all its richness, fill your lives. Teach and counsel each other with all the wisdom he gives. Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs to God with thankful hearts. And whatever you do or say, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through him to God the Father.

-Colossians 3.1-17

Notice that the sinful nature cannot be rationalized or reasoned with or negotiated. It must be put to death. Sin must be killed.

Additionally, Christian virtue must be put on like clothing. Our culture is suspicious of people “putting on airs” or trying to look holier than they really are. I understand that suspicion; however, at some point we must acknowledge that we are not the way we are meant to be. As a result, we must put to death the sinful nature and put on the second nature—the nature of Christ.

Like Captain Sully, we have to go through hours of intentionality and practice, putting on that new nature until it becomes second nature. It becomes natural, but it starts out as a discipline.

Some have made the mistake of reducing everything Paul says here to a list of dos and don’ts. However, if all we did was adhere to these few guidelines, we’d actually miss the point of what Paul is saying.

His point is that these behaviors are clues to the second nature. The more we follow the clues; i.e., the more we discipline ourselves to put on the character of Christ, the more natural it will become.

Little children, for example, have a difficult time learning to put on pants. It requires my six-year-old daughter, Anna, about fifteen minutes every morning to put on her pants. Usually, it involves her falling over and having the dog lick her face as she giggles on the carpet. My hope is that we can shave down the pants-putting-on process to under three minutes.

It will take time, but eventually, if you keep putting your Jesus pants on every day, you will find you no longer struggle with the habits of the sinful life.

The more you practice patience, the more patient you become.

The more you practice thinking the best of people, the less you gossip about them or slander them.

The more you practice biting your tongue when angry, the easier you find it to avoid shouting matches in the office.

Arresting sinful behavior, even in little ways, demonstrates that Christ is working in you and you are being transformed. Practicing these habits of the heart helps us become God’s holy people, giving him glory through our behaviors, which is the entire point of the Christian life.

Footnotes

Revelation 6.9-17

I wish my Bible had footnotes that matter. For example, I wish my Bible had a footnote that compared the events of the sixth seal to Jesus’ “apocalyptic discourse” in Luke 21 (and also Mark 13, Matthew 24). I wish my Bible had footnotes that referred back to Malachi’s “Great and Terrible Day of the Lord,” when God’s judgment would descend upon Israel and purify his people. Incidentally, those footnotes should probably be connected with Jesus’ predictions of the Temple’s destruction. And a really good Bible would have footnotes that reminded me that the Temple was destroyed in AD 70 by the Romans, roughly 25 years before John wrote the Revelation.

I don’t want to be greedy, but it would be cool to find a Bible with footnotes suggesting (at least) that the earth-shattering events of the Jewish War in 67-70AD would fit the colorful descriptions of cataclysm in chapter 6 verses 12-14. If that seems far-fetched, please try and remember that the Jewish Temple was more than a religious piece of architecture. It represented their people, their heritage, and its restoration was a down-deposit on God’s New Creation promise. When the Temple was destroyed, the Jewish people must have felt like the White House, the Vatican, the moon, and the Internet all came crashing down around them.

Earth-shaking, indeed.

The sun turned black, figuratively, because there was no light of salvation any longer.

The moon became blood, figuratively, because judgment had been painted in the air.

The stars came falling down, representative of the sense of dissolution, that even the cosmos seemed to be coming unglued.

Flavius Josephus, a 1st century Jewish historian, wrote about this crazy Roman war on the Jewish rebels, saying that “horsemen leveled the road…and raised a bank over ten feet tall for defense.” Josephus continues, saying “the Romans slew all that appeared…searching the caves and hiding places underground.” Jesus predicted that that would happen, in Luke 23, in case you’re curious. I was, and—sorry to beat a dead horse—wish the footnotes in my Bible had mentioned that. Anyway, Josephus goes on to tell us that “famine widened its progress, devouring whole people and families…the city streets were clogged with the dead bodies of the aged. The children also and the young men wandered about the market places like shadows.” I wish my Bible had footnotes that hinted at the possibility that the four horsemen were reminders of what the Romans did (conquered, slaughtered, starved, killed) and that the events in chapter six had some historical reference that gave us a framework for understanding how God’s judgment works.

But my Bible doesn’t have those footnotes. Which, admittedly, is a shame. And it’s not that the editors of my Bibles are trying to keep my ignorant, it’s that there’s a surplus of meaning to these verses. Yes—they do correspond closely to historical events. But—also—those historical events are a type of judgment. They show us the manner of judgment. Evil men do evil things causing both the righteous and the unrighteous to suffer.

But that’s not the whole story. Revelation tells us that those who remained faithful to Christ have been preserved under the alter in heaven (see verses 9-11) Revelation tells us that tragedy can be transformed in the lives of the faithful.

And here’s the good news: my Bible doesn’t need footnotes to remind me of that.

Habits of the Heart Part 1

Christian character is the result of thousands of hours spent practicing the presence of God. It’s the cumulative effect of a million small decisions—

not responding out of anger,

            not speaking harshly,

                        forgiving your enemies,

                                    blessing those who curse you.

Over time, those little moral victories add up and serve as the building blocks for our second nature. We cultivate virtue. We develop character. Through the process of our cultivation and development, God receives glory as we become the people he has designed and destined us to be.

N.T. Wright refers to these virtues as habits of the heart. They are largely invisible.

They are mysteriously unquantifiable. You do not become more virtuous simply because you spend more time performing virtuous tasks. What happens in your mind and in your spirit is equally, if not more significant as the amount of time allotted to virtue.

Contrary to popular belief, spending more time in prayer does not automatically make you more godly. It’s not that prayer is ineffective or inadequate; simply that the condition of your heart during prayer—your attentiveness to God, your focus on God, your ardor for God, your openness to God’s spirit—works like fuel for the fire of prayer.

Consequently, two hours of absentminded prayer a day will likely produce little transformation. But twenty minutes of focused, honest, vulnerable prayer before God will always draw you closer to him regardless of how often you “perform” it[1].

This altruism doesn’t hold simply for prayer, but for all manner of spiritual disciplines. The quality of our availability to God always works in tandem with the quantity of that availability. Even reading the Bible can be one of the most useless, frustrating, and stupid exercises if you don’t invite the spirit of God in to change you or pay attention to what the words mean as you read them.

Again, this is why Wright refers to these as habits of the heart. They don’t just concern our activity; they concern our interiority in the midst of activity.

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[1] This is not to suggest that we should wait until we “really mean it” before we spend time in prayer. If that were the case, none of us would ever pray. The point is that we must discipline ourselves to regularly go to God in prayer and equally discipline ourselves during prayer to be open, available, conscientious, and engaged with God’s spirit. The point is not to only pray when we’re focused. The point is to always focus when we pray.

Expectations?

Revelation 6.1-8

Can I ask you something?

What do you honestly expect to get out of reading these visions of heavenly seals and apocalyptic horsemen? Are you one of those people who think these verses will help you interpret CNN? Do you believe there are clues here about the blueprint of the future?

If not—great!—but if so…why?

Clearly no one imagines that there will be a literal collection of demonic horsemen riding through town like Clint Eastwood’s scary friends. We all know these horsemen represent something. Almost unilaterally biblical scholars agree that these riders represent conquest, violence, economic hardship, and death. But I confess that I’m puzzled as to why people are always looking to uncover who these horsemen ‘really are.’ After all, when has there ever been a season in human history in which conquest, violence, economic hardship and death were not glaring fixtures? These “horsemen” are always present. Since Cain murdered Abel, and David conquered Jerusalem; since the widow gave up her two mites and the thieves expired beside Christ on the cross—these things have always been prevalent in the human condition, and always will be.

And maybe that’s the point. Rather than trying to figure out whether the red horse is a nuclear threat from the Orient, maybe we’re better off simply acknowledging that any time we choose to live according to the principles of power (war, violence, economy, death), we are simultaneously choosing to live contrary to the Lamb. And—whereas the sacrifice of the Lamb gives life—these manifestations of earthly power rob us of life. The horsemen, then, represent the inevitable consequences of people who try and rule the world in opposition to God.

If ambition leads to conquest, and hate leads to violence, and greed leads to oppression, and recklessness leads to death…shouldn’t we be cautious about our own ambitions, hate, greed, and careless disregard on a small scale?

Shouldn’t we learn how to live like we’re not trying to self-destruct?

What Else Can We Do?

Revelation 5.8-14

What else can we do?

In the midst of Revelation chapters’ 4&5 dizzying heavenly diptych, we find ourselves caught up in an intergalactic Woodstock—a worship festival for the Lamb.

These three songs tell the whole story of the gospel. In the first song, the creatures and the elders sing about all that Christ has achieved through his sacrificial death on the cross. The means? His blood. The effect? A people, purchased for God. The scope? Every tribe, tongue, nation. The purpose? To make us a kingdom of priests.

In the second song, the myriad of angels sing about everything Christ deserves—wealth, power, wisdom, understanding, honor, glory, blessing. Everything comes from him and proceeds back to him, the author and finisher of our faith.

The final song is sung by every created being, both earthly and otherwise. It is a song about identity, clearly demarcating the fact that the One who sits on the throne & the Lamb are both due the same praise and honor. The Father and the Son are One.

What are we to make of all this worship? Of the elders falling down with their harps and their bowls of incense? Of the four living creatures shouting ‘Amen’ in the middle of the cosmic cacophony?

How about making sure we worship the right person?

We ought to worship the Lamb that was Slain.

How about making sure we worship him for the right reasons?

Because we sacrificed himself for us, he purchased us, and he made us into a holy people.

Because he is co-equal with the One who sits on the throne, because he is the firstborn over creation, and he deserves every good thing in spades.

How about making sure we worship him in the right ways?

On our faces, laying down our crowns, setting aside our harps and bowls, calling in concert with every created thing.

He made us kings, but he is the King of Kings. He made us priests, but he is our High Priest. He gave us victory, but he is Christus Victor.

What else can we do but worship?

Canada Geese

Flight 1549, a regular U.S. Airways trip from LaGuardia, took off from New York at 3:26 p.m., bound for Charlotte, North Carolina. The captain, Chelsey Sullenberger III, known also as Sully, did all the usual checks. Everything was fine in the air busts—fine until two minutes after takeoff.

The aircraft ran straight into a flock of Canada geese. Almost at once, both engines were severely damaged and lost all their power. The plane was, at that time, heading north toward the Bronx, over one of the most densely populated parts of New York City.

Captain Sullenberger and his copilot had to make several decisions instantly if they were going to save lives. They could see one or two small local airports in the distance, but quickly realized they couldn’t be sure they would make it that far before they crashed. If they attempted it, they might hit a building on the way. Their next best option was to land on the New Jersey turnpike, but they thought their chances of survival were very slim, and of course they would hurt all kinds of people in the process. Their last option was to try to land the plane on the Hudson River. But it’s difficult to crash-land on water. One small mistake—catch the nose or one of the wings in the river, for example—and the plane will turn over and over like a gymnast before breaking up and sinking, killing everyone.

In the two minutes they had before landing, Sully and his copilot had to do several things we, as amateurs, don’t really get, along with the following vitals:

• They had to shut down the engines.
• They had to set the right speed, so the plane could glide as long as possible without power.
• They had to get the nose of the plane down to maintain speed.
• They had to disconnect the autopilot and override the flight management system.
• They had to activate the ditch system, which seals vents and valves to make the plane as waterproof as possible.
• Most importantly, they had to fly and then glide the plane in a fast left-hand turn, so it could come down facing south, going with the flow of the river. Having already turned off the engines, they had to do this using only the battery-operated systems and the emergency generator.
• Then they had to straighten the plane up from the tilt of the sharp turn, so that when they landed, the plane would be exactly level from side to side.
• And finally, they had to get the nose back up again, but not too far up, and land straight and flat on the water.

They did it. Everybody survived. Nobody even went to the hospital. The pilot, Captain Sullenberger, was the last person off the plane as it floated on the Hudson River, and he gave his jacket to a little old lady because she was feeling cold. They sat in life-rescue rafts for about an hour and a half before the harbor patrol could get to them and escort them back to safety.[1]

Some might adjudicate the story of Captain Sullenberger as merely good fortune. But it’s not. There is a reason Sully and his copilot navigated this terrible situation without panic, despite tremendous amounts of pressure. They had been trained. The pilots had spent thousands and thousands of hours training in simulators, in lesser aircraft, in the classroom, and practicing on the same aircraft, where they rehearsed, in their minds and with their bodies, what they would do in such a particular emergency. Because they had prepared, they were able to perform confidently under pressure.

Greek philosophers had a word for this kind of preparation. They called it character, or virtue. You develop character through the long application of practices that once seemed impossible, but have now become like second nature. Virtue is the transformation from the arduous into the habitual.

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[1] This story adapted from N.T. Wright, After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters

John Looks for a Lion, But Sees a Lamb Instead

Revelation 5.1-7

This may be the single-biggest mind-job in the Revelation. The One Who Conquers is called the Lion of Judah—an old title for a messianic warrior—but appears instead as an undead lamb—the very opposite kind of image. Christ sounds like a warrior, but appears like a victim.

How often have we looked for warrior Jesus, only to be disappointed by the crucified lord?

Conversely, how often have we hoped to hear gentle, lambing words from Christ, and been shocked back to reality by the lion’s roar?

These twin images—fierce lion, slain lamb—get convoluted in our modern context of James Cameron movies and Naughty Dog games. We’re predisposed toward a violent savior (on the one hand) and a subtle sage (on the other). We want Jesus to sound meek and nice and pet-worthy, but ultimately show up and destroy our enemies. But we’ve got it backwards. He conquers through his death and through his word, and he means for us to do likewise.

Later, in 12.11, we’re told that the saints conquer evil through the blood of the lamb and the word of their testimony, even though it cost them their own lives. His blood. Our words. Our blood. That’s the progression. He died. We confess. We die too—or, at least, we must be ready to die. The cross, then, is both the source and the shape of our salvation. We are meant to experience the victory of God through the same means and method as our savior.

Do not resist evil.

Whoever slaps you on one cheek, turn the other also.

Whoever forces you to go one mile, go with him two.

Do good to those who hate you.

Bless those who curse you.

Pray for those who mistreat you.

Roar like a lion, but live like a lamb.

This changes everything.