Becoming Priestly

Pontifex is a Latin word that means bridge-builder and the origin of our English word priest. A priest connects men to God, mediating the divine. As Christians, part of our identity is priestly, which means six things:

First, it means shadowing God. We are made in God’s image and likeness (Genesis 1.26). In him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17.28) because he is the author and finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12.2). God is the source of everything, and we are tethered to him as his “bridge-builders.”

Second, we are living temples. We are spiritual people, but the Bible tells us we are also being built together into a spiritual house. We are both priest and parish, cleric and cathedral, God dwelling in the midst of his people. 

The creation poem in Genesis 1 describes the construction of the world in ancient Hebrew architectural terms. To the oriental mind, it would have been quite clear that God was crafting a specific type of building—a temple. In the ancient near-eastern world, temples were filled with idols, indicating the resident deity. Dragon idols stood for Rahab, mermen for Dagon, etc. In God’s Earth Temple, the only idols are people. 

“Idol” is actually the best translation of the Hebrew word tselem, from which we get the idea that we are made in God’s “image.” God made idols that move. Wherever we go, the presence of God goes with us. We are always at church, in worship with our creator. 

Third, it means we reflect God back to the world. We show the world what God is like through the way we live and the things we say. We are living epistles (2 Corinthians 3.2) and the aroma of Christ (2 Corinthians 2.15), carrying with us the light of Jesus Christ. 

Fourth, we reflect the world as it should be back to God. Every time we cooperate with the Holy Spirit, creating conditions representative of what God originally intended, we can bring our successes back to God and show him, giving evidence that we are working in concert with our Creator to heal the world.

Fifth, we are united with God through Christ. In John 10.30 Jesus said, “The Father and I are one.” And in 1 Corinthians 1.30, Paul said, “God has united you with Christ Jesus.”

 Our lives are not our own anymore; we are conjoined with Jesus. It is this Siamese spirituality that leads Paul to caution Christian people about their moral behavior. For example, in 1 Corinthians 6.12-20, Paul explains why it is wrong for Christians to do things like visit prostitutes, not only because it is morally reprehensible, but also because Jesus goes with us everywhere, and visiting a brothel is the spiritual equivalent of kidnapping Christ for a bachelor party bender in Vegas. 

We ought to be careful that it is Jesus who leads us along paths of righteousness (Psalm 23.3) and not us who drag Jesus into the Velvet Touch show lounge. 

Sixth, we are summoned to live differently from the world as a result of our calling. This necessitates that we always act in love.

Everything we do should be flavored and governed by agape. 

Love is costly. Love can be tough. 

But love is always unconditional, self-sacrificing, and restorative. Sometimes Christian people get confused and think our priestly vocation is more about “holiness” than love. This is a mistaken notion about the true nature of holiness. To be holy means to be set apart for God like a bride is set apart for her husband. Holiness concerns our behavior, but centers on our relationships, and that which governs our relationship with God is love. 

To become more holy, we must become more wholly loving, not just better behaved. 

The only way we can live saturated in love is by staying in step with the Holy Spirit, inviting him to infuse us with love itself. It’s the Holy Spirit who gives us direction in the absence of clear biblical guidelines. The Holy Spirit helps us discern what to do in complex, morally gray scenarios. It is the Holy Spirit who fosters creativity within us, allowing us to sidestep false dichotomies, no-win scenarios, and learned hopelessness. 

The more we stay in step with the Spirit, the more we love. 

The more we love, the more our lives become centered on God and his desire for creation. 

As our lives increasingly take on the character and nature and flavor God intends, we gather up the praises of creation and give them back to God as an offering. We give God our gratitude when things work out the way he designed and praise because they’re so enjoyable. 

Imagine, for example, an Olympic runner who has won the gold medal and shows up at the home of her high school track coach. She shares her enthusiasm and reward and gratitude. In much the same way, we share what God has given us with him. 

As priests, then, we mediate God’s presence in our lives and to the world around us, thereby coming that much closer to the way humanity was meant to be.

A Long Time Ago...

Revelation 10.1-11

Does anyone remember what this part of Revelation is about?

Chapters 1-3 concern the seven churches directly. Chapters 4-5 give us a vision of the heavenly throne room where we watch the slain lamb receive the scroll containing God’s plan to heal the world. Chapters 6-8 detail the opening of the seven seals that kept the scroll from being read and God’s purposes form being known. The seventh seal initiated the blowing of the seven trumpets (chapters 8-9). Now John receives a little scroll, just before the seventh trumpet is blown.

But what is this little scroll?

Two things are worth mentioning here: first, the scroll is only “little” in verse 2; second, the angel holding the scroll is enormous. By verse 8, the scroll is no longer referred to as “little”, likely because at that point it’s being passed over to John.

Try and see this in your mind. A giant angel—so big he can place one foot on the land and the other on the sea, his head is covered in a rainbow and he wears clouds like billowy bathrobes from heaven—is holding a scroll. If the scroll were “normal” size, how do you think it would look in the hand of the giant?

Itsy.

Bitsy.

In chapter five, this same scroll was given to the lamb but because the lamb wasn’t a gigantic cloud-surfing titan, John didn’t feel the need to mention anything about its size. Once John receives the scroll in chapter ten, the size is again of no importance. On the contrary, the important bit is now that the scroll is open! What was once sealed is now accessible, and we’re finally going to find out what the contents of the scroll are in chapter eleven.

So, on the off-chance that you completely forgot there even was a scroll—or, by extension, a plan to eradicate evil and heal the world—then cheer up!

There’s actually a point

Virtuous Circle

There are five primary means through which we reclaim our royal identity in simple, practical terms, all of which concern ‘renewing our minds.’

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” –Romans 12.2

“As a man thinks in his heart, so he is.” –Proverbs 23.7

Renewing your mind means changing the way you think. It means having your mind washed out, trading the mind you have now for something better, something cleansed and renewed by God’s spirit.

The mind is the control room for your life. Our perceptions shape reality. Our desires manifest into ambitions—either consciously or sub-consciously—that determine our behaviors. All of the energy around us, from advertising and television to coffee shop philosophy and pop song lyrics, has created a world vastly different from the one God intends. Whether we know it or not, we have been enculturated into this counter-creation. We think like that because we’ve been mal-nourished in it since birth.

In order for us to begin thinking God thoughts about sexuality, relationships, politics, wealth, etc., we have to fight against the energies of the world, replacing our old thoughts with something new.

N.T. Wright, in his book After You Believe, describes a virtuous circle, comprised of five components to living Christianly. I have here adapted that virtuous circle to focus specifically on renewing the mind, as well as changing some of the terminology to connect more seamlessly with my materials on spiritual gifts (Archetypes: Uncovering Your Spiritual Identity and The Elements of Spiritual Formation).

As Christians, we believe the Bible is our ultimate authority in all matters of thought and action. Reading the Bible changes us.

It convicts us.

It edits us.

Even though some things in the Bible may be difficult to understand and others may even be uncomfortable, we invite the spirit of God to fertilize us with the biblical material, trusting that the most difficult parts will ultimately prove the most rewarding through the long process of God’s redemptive work in us.

In some ways, reading the Bible is habit-forming. Not only do we develop the habit of learning to read it and applying what we’ve read in real life, but it’s also habit-forming in that the scripturally fertilized life requires a completely different set of habits. The Bible shapes those habits. The Bible reinforces those habits, changing the way we think and the way we live.

Reading the Bible also cultivates humility. Every time we read the scriptures, we learn something we didn’t know. We are exposed to something with which we were previously unfamiliar, even if it’s just the turn of a phrase or a nuance in an author’s style. When we read the biblical narratives, we see the foibles and follies of the biblical characters and realize we make the same mistakes they did.

We are no better than they were. And we, like they, need to find a place of repentance before God in order to continue our spiritual development.

The second way we renew our minds is through stories. The Bible is best understood as one big Story, and living our lives in concert with that Story also allows us to learn from other kinds of stories: movies, fairytales, folk tales, novels, etc.

Stories demonstrate wisdom. We watch characters triumph, and we watch them flounder, all the while inwardly urging them to do what’s right. In this way we safely learn from them about sound decision-making, allegiance, principles, and love.

Thirdly, our minds are renewed through archetypes. I have written previously about my opinion that Christian people tend to cluster according to their spiritual personality, as derived from their spiritual gifts, their learning style, their kind of intelligence[1], and the means through which they most meaningfully connect to God. We renew our minds by finding people who are archetypes of us, like us.

By this, I mean people who are examples to us of how to live like we know we should, or how not to live in the ways we shouldn’t. They are our models, our examples, and our cautions. We’ll never likely find just one person who is the perfect example of our unique gifts and abilities, passions, capabilities and dreams, but by looking at several people who are similar to us—an admired coach, a patron, a father or older brother—then we take the aggregate of those archetypes and learn increasingly how to become the people God has designed us to be.

The fourth way our minds are renewed is via relationship: our church, our family, our friends.

God speaks to us through other people.

He speaks to us through the community of faith, he speaks to us through the people who love us, and he speaks to us through the people who are near us. We have to learn to discern God’s voice in the midst of our relationships. We have to learn to hear him in them, knowing that, while he speaks through them, he’s not necessarily always speaking through them.

For example, Christian people will often point out the sin of other Christian people. Typically we don’t like that. We resist it and refer to that behavior as being judgmental. Certainly this is true some of the time. And yet, the scripture makes it clear we are supposed to identify sin, sharpen each other, call each other to a higher standard (1 Thessalonians 5.11).

We need to foster the kind of honest relationships in which sin-critique is welcomed, respected, and taken seriously as a signpost to holy living. When the people who are part of your circle speak to you about your life, they are speaking with the voice of God, and you should listen. God has placed them in your life to guide you, and he renews your mind through their voice in your ear.

Lastly, God renews our minds through the elements of spiritual formation. These “elements” are the things we do in order to more faithfully follow God: namely, mission, disciplines, and sacraments.

By mission, I refer to the twin vocations of witness and blessing found first in Genesis 12 and Acts 2. God promised Abraham that through him all the nations of the world will be blessed.

What he began in Abraham, he intends to continue through his church.

We are called to bless the world. Jesus instructed his disciples that they were to be his witnesses to the outermost ends of the earth.

What Jesus began with those first followers, he intends to continue through his church.

We are called to bear witness. Blessing and witness together comprise mission, meaning we ought to be outside of the church walls, helping others experience life the way God intends and reminding them that he has promised them something better through his son.

Spiritual disciplines include things like reading the Bible, praying, spending time in silence, journaling, going on a pilgrimage, fasting, meditating, etc. Your mind gets rewired as you participate in spiritual activity intentionally. It’s not enough to just perform these tasks, however. You must invest yourself in them with all of your attention and feeling.

The final element is the sacraments—baptism, communion, and confession. Baptism is a millennia-old ritual, through which we signify that our old lives have ended, and we are now living new lives with Jesus Christ. Baptism is a symbolic reminder of Jesus’ death and resurrection and our own spiritual death and resurrection to new life in him. Communion recalls the Last Supper Jesus shared with his disciples on the night he was betrayed to the Roman and Jewish authorities. That Last Supper itself hearkens back to the ancient Jewish celebration of Passover, commemorating God’s deliverance of his people out of Egyptian slavery (Exodus 12).

Communion is about sacrifice and deliverance.

When we consume the bread and wine—emblems of Christ’s broken body and spilled blood—we are ingesting the mystical, esoteric sacrifice of Jesus, resulting in our deliverance from sin.

Confession means coming clean with someone else about our own struggles and successes. It requires us to speak our sin out loud, so we can no longer hide from the ramifications of our disobedience. Sin must be named before it can be dealt with. 1 John 1.9 says, “But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.” The more sin we confess, the more sin we can expunge, removing one of the chief obstacles from holy living.

The virtuous circle trains our consciences, teaching us how to think Christianly. It helps us to arrest our thoughts, “demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10.5)

And the virtuous circle helps us to refocus our attention. We have to focus on what God wants, not what we want, selfishly. Once we start to put the virtuous circle into practice, our thoughts begin to change, and our lives change as a result. We reclaim our “royalty” and as a result God gets glory.

We become more fully human as he becomes more wholly glorified.

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[1] See Archetypes: Uncovering Your Spiritual Identity; anything on the three learning styles; Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences; Sacred Pathways by Gary Thomas.

Not Enough

Revelation 9.13-21


Is it juvenile for me to want the Revelation made into a movie? I know that any film in which these images were depicted as they appear on the page would spectacularly miss the point, but when I read passages about demon-horses cloaked in flame and slathering brimstone while their serpent-tails lash and their enemies stagger…I crave popcorn.

Sadly, even if we had such a film I probably still wouldn’t find it sufficient. I’d want a film that showed the images, but gave the meaning also. That’s a tall order. John’s Revelation ignites my imagination, but it also fixes my thoughts. Films can’t do both—they’re boring and true, or excitedly false.

Yet John’s exciting images are designed to teach us a fundamental truth: life’s tragedies ought to lead us to repentance, but they don’t. Having suffered greatly at the hands of the demonic horsemen, the inhabitants of the earth still choose to worship demons. Demons are loosed from the abyss in 9.1-12, and demons kill 1/3 of the population in 9.15, and the people refuse to abandon their demons in 9.20-21. The instrument of suffering becomes the vehicle for idolatry.

Why?

For some people, the only way to cope with evil is to accommodate it. Some lives are ruined by bitterness, and yet bitterness has become dear. Some lives are ruined by wanton sexuality, and yet sexual conquest conquers every rational consideration for a better life with better relationships. I have a friend who complains about everything. I’ve got a love/hate relationship with him. I love him, but I can’t stand to be around him because he never stops complaining. As a result, he’s alone most of the time, can’t keep a job, and can’t hold onto a girlfriend. He complains about all of this, which perpetuates the cycle. His malcontent has ruined everything, but he refuses to acknowledge his own complicity in his isolation. He complains that I ask him to stop complaining! My friend falls into the same category as the demon-worshippers: neither he or they seem capable of understanding that they are killing themselves, to one degree or another, by the very thing they love.

When will we learn that judgment is purposed for repentance? That misery ought to lead us to our knees?

That we ought to change?

How bad do things have to get before we realize we made them this way?

Methetes

In the first century, followers of Jesus were called disciples, from the Greek word methetes. A methetes was a learner, not only of their teacher’s thoughts, but also of their teacher’s way of living and interacting with the world. Christian people typically bifurcate their discipleship, focusing only on behavior or belief, forgetting the fact that it is both our orthodoxy (right-thinking) and orthopraxy (right-practice) that demonstrate our devotion to Jesus Christ.

Followers of Jesus learn.

In my experience, it seems most Christian people don’t grow very much after the first year. As spiritual newborns, they grasp the basic truths of who Jesus was and what he did and what he continues to do in them. They go to church. They get involved. And then that’s it. The majority of the time, once people are “saved” and involved in a local church, they stop learning (either how to live or how to think consistent with the way of Jesus) and instead, they start to defend what they think they know very aggressively.

It takes a tremendous amount of will and focus to avoid the obstinance of saved—churched—cultured Christianity. We must constantly invite the Holy Spirit to change us, whether we’ve been a Christian for one year or one hundred years. There will never come a point at which we have spiritually arrived and can assume, in good conscience, a posture of defense. 

We have to reclaim our royal identity. 

Pointer!

Revelation 9.1-12


My dog, Flash, is fun but dumb. Whenever I try and get him to fetch, I point at the ball. But Flash won’t look at the ball--he only looks at my finger. And then licks it. He gets infatuated with the pointer, and misses the point.

Revelation 9′s description of these demonic locusts may well lead us to play the dog. Many commentators have been caught up in trying to ascertain who the locusts are—Saracens? Parthians? Modern enemies of America?—but all of these suggestions miss the point, as do fanciful postulations like “maybe John saw Apache helicopters?!”

Sit boy.

Good dog.

The ancient Hebrews had several words for locust: shearer, swarmer, galloper, creaker, swallower, and finisher. Simply put, when a swarm of locusts came through—in columns a hundred feet deep and four miles long—it was the single-most devastating visitation in the world. For example, after a locust infestation in Algiers in 1886, 200,000 people starved to death due to the famine that followed. Normally, locusts eat all the region’s vegetation and are harmless to people; but here, John tells us that the locusts are re-directed toward people and instructed to leave the vegetation alone. They are like scorpions, proverbially the most hostile pest to humankind.

So what’s the point?

Simple: repentance. The trumpets blow to call the people of the world to repent. The trumpets sound to shake them to penitence.

But they miss the point. No one repents.

Let’s not make the same mistake.