I am basically a ‘Theologian of Glory’

I know there is a lot (not enough) of talk about the “theology of the cross” vs. the “theology of glory”, and those of us who think we understand this ‘Christian faith’ thing have come down on the side of the cross…but that is not really who I am, and what I believe.

I basically am a theologian of glory. I am constantly thinking about myself and my ‘situation’.  I enjoy and am pleased with all the “progression” and “victories” in my life, while I bemoan the losses and the pain. I blast the Almighty for His unwillingness to fix all the problems in my life and the lives of my family members. Instead of thanking God for all of my pain and adversity, I am angry with Him.

Do I even want to try and understand the reasons, or believe that “all things work together for good for those who love God and are called for His purposes” ?   Not really. I am too busy with my own purposes to give any time to His purposes.

I am basically a “theologian of glory”. The only way I could ever be a “theologian of the cross”, is if He were to make me one. And thanks be to God, that He does make me one. He puts that “theologian of glory” to death everytime He gives Himself to me in the law, and the gospel. He makes me a “theologian of the cross” everytime He gives Himself to me in His supper. He makes me a “theologian of the cross” everytime I return to my baptism, which carries me through life the way a mother safely carries her baby in her loving arms.

I am a “theologian of glory”, who is basically content to stay that way. But that is not the way that my Lord would have it. He is not content that I stay that way. He has commanded me not to stay that way, and invited me to receive unto myself the “theology of the cross”… the pain, the suffering, the sorrow and lonliness of death…and then the joy of the resurrection and new life.

He knows full well that I basically do not want any part of His cross. Once again (as it has always  been and ever will be) our Lord has taken care of everything. “This is my body…this is my blood…do this,  and I will work my love and forgiveness in you. I will create in you a clean heart, against all your struggling and complaining.”(my paraphrasing)  That is how our Lord makes us into “theologians of the cross”…he takes us there, and then He dies for us, and then He enjoins us in that death for our own good.

No More Dying?

Once we become Christians (however you think that happens) the dying is supossed to stop…right? From that point on in our life with Christ, it is upward and onwarDeath Becomes Med…right? We will have an immunity from the trials and tribulations that plague other people (non-Christians), and we will not have to deal with the little deaths along the rest of our journey in this world…right?

Any Christian worth his or her salt…I take that back, any Christian that has a pulse, knows that those statements are patently false.

St. Paul says in 1st Corinthians 15:29-31, “Otherwise, what do people mean by being baptised on behalf of the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why are people baptised on their behalf? Why am I in peril every hour?  I protest, brethren, by my pride in you which I have in Christ Jesus our Lord, I die everyday!”

“I die everyday.”   St. Paul knew the power of sin, the flesh and the devil. But he also knew that the power of Christ and His victory over death was the real truth about himself.

As Christians, we are not immune from troubles of life and the little deaths that occur as the result of the whirlwind of sin that we all contribute to and reap the benefits from. Death and dying, for the Christian is not a one time event when you are born again, or when you “accept” Jesus.

As Christians we all accept and reject Jesus each and every day…. many times within a single day, especially for someone like me who’s faith is at times weak at best.

Dying and rising (‘being raised’- to be more accurate) is the shape of the Christian’s life. Repentance and forgiveness…dying and rising, these are synonymous. This dying and rising is the process that we go through. It is the race that we run. But we don’t run it alone. We don’t go through it alone. Our Lord is right there to carry us along the way. We are carried in the forgiveness of sins, in our baptisms, like a boat carries you along through the water. And along the journey we are fed by His Word and His Holy Supper. And along the journey we return to our baptism, daily (as Luther said), and that is not hard for us to do because it is the boat in which we travel.

 Baptism is not a one time event that we do, or that is done to us by a pastor, priest, or minister, it is something tangible, done to us by God Himself. Baptism moves with us through life and carrries us though life. It promises us and gives us new life…over, and over, and over again, as we need it, each day, everytime the circumstances of life, or the results of our own sin, or the sin of others, or the work of the devil, bring us to the point of death. And again we are washed clean and riased  with Him to new life.

I think the advocates of ‘after you are born again, there is no more dying’  defend their point of view because they somehow believe it is preserving God’s power.  I think, that they think, that if you believe in a cycle of dying and rising that somehow God’s power hasn’t really been enough to squash the powers of darkness and evil in the world. Also, if you believe that salvation is a process, you somehow are tying this in to man’s efforts to save himself. I think they believe these things because they fail to recognize the paradox that is the life of faith. What apprears to be so, really isn’t, and vice verse.  Failure to recognize the paradoxes in Christianity will naturally bring about a desire to nail everything to the floor and make it understandable.

The one thing that all of us ought to remember is that God’s ways are certainlly not our ways.

Do I know everything about God and the Christian faith? Hah! That’s a good one! Of course I don’t. I’m going by what I have been taught, what is in scripture, and of course what the Spirit of God reveals to me as truth.

I always appreciate it when someone is able to straighten me out when I might be in error. So here’s your chance to do something good for a brother in Christ! Thanks!

   – Steve Martin

When times are rough…

When things go wrong…terribly wrong, and they will, don’t be afraid to let God have it. Pour out your guts to Him with all you’ve got.   But in  the midst of our suffering God is there. Listen to a short (4 min.) audio clip that drives the point home.Numb

The Theology of Glory vs. the Theology of the Cross

 Getting better? Gradually progressing up the ladder of righteousness and spirituality? Working on my sanctification?  Well, the late Dr. Forde has a thing or two to say about that type of thinking.  You really ought to read ‘On Being a Theologian of the Cross’

 

 

 

 

by  Dr. Gerhard Forde

We find ourselves in a situation in which there is increasing talk about the theology of the cross but little specific knowledge of what exactly it is. In the absence of clear understanding, the theology of the cross tends to become sentimentalized, especially in an age that is so concerned about victimization. Jesus is spoken of as the one who “identifies with us in our suffering,” or the one who “enters into solidarity with us” in our misery. “The suffering of God,” or the “vulnerability of God,” and such platitudes become the stock-in-trade of preachers and theologians who want to stroke the psyche of today’s religionists. But this results in rather blatant and suffocating sentimentality. God is supposed to be more attractive to us because he identifies with us in our pain and suffering. “Misery loves company” becomes the unspoken motif of such theology. A theology of the cross, however, is not sentimentalism. To be sure, it speaks much about suffering. A theologian of the cross, Luther says, looks at all things through suffering and the cross. It is also certainly true that in Christ God enters into our suffering and death. But in a theology of the cross it is soon apparent that we cannot ignore the fact that suffering comes about because we are at odds with God and are trying to rush headlong into some sort of cozy identification with him. God and his Christ, Luther is concerned to point out, are the operators in the matter, not the ones operated upon (thesis 27, Heidelberg Disputation). In the Gospel of John, Jesus is concerned to point out that no one takes his life from him but that he lays it down of his own accord (John 10:18). In the end, Jesus suffers and dies because nobody identified with him. The people cried, “Crucify him!” One of his disciples betrayed him, another denied him, the rest forsook him and fled. He died alone, forsaken even by God.Now we in turn suffer the absolute and unconditional working of God upon us. It is a suffering because as old beings we cannot abide such working. We are rendered passive by the divine activity. “Passive,” it should be remembered here, comes from the same root as “passion,” which is, of course, “to suffer.” And so we look on the world anew in the light of Christ’s Passion, “through suffering and the cross” (thesis 20), as ones who suffer the sovereign working of God. A sentimentalized theology gives the impression that God in Christ comes to join us in our battle against some unknown enemy, is victimized, and suffers just like us. Like the daughters of Jerusalem we sympathize with him. A true theology of the cross places radical question marks over against sentimentality of that sort. “Weep not for me,” Jesus said, “but for yourselves and for your children.”It is evident that there is a serious erosion or slippage in the language of theology today. Sentimentality leads to a shift in focus, and the language slips out of place. To take a common example, we apparently are no longer sinners, but rather victims, oppressed by sinister victimizers whom we relentlessly seek to track down and accuse. Of course, there are indeed victims and victimizers in our culture—all too many of them. But the kind of collective paranoia that allows us to become preoccupied with such a picture of our plight cannot help but nudge the language just enough to cause it to slip and fall out of place. The slippage is often very slight and subtle and hardly noticeable; that is what makes it so deceptive.We no longer live in a guilt culture but have been thrown into meaninglessness—so we are told. Then the language slips out of place. Guilt puts the blame on us as sinners, but who is responsible for meaninglessness? Surely not we! Sin, if it enters our consciousness at all, is generally something that “they” did to us. As Alan Jones, dean of the Episcopal Cathedral of San Francisco, put it once, “We live in an age in which everything is permitted and nothing is forgiven.”Since we are victims and not really sinners, what we need is affirmation and support, and so on. The language slips and falls out of place. It becomes therapeutic rather than evangelical. It must he trimmed more and more so as not to give offense. In thesis 21 of the Heidelberg Disputation Luther says that a theologian of the cross “says what a thing is,” whereas a theologian of glory calls the bad good and the good bad. This stakes out the claim that language and its proper use in matters theological is a fundamental concern of the theologian of the cross. Luther’s words suggest that the misuse or slippage of language in this regard has a theological root. When we operate on the assumption that our language must constantly be trimmed so as not to give offense, to stroke the psyche rather than to place it under attack, it will of course gradually decline to the level of greeting-card sentimentality. The language of sin, law, accusation, repentance, judgment, wrath, punishment, perishing, death, devil, damnation and even the cross itself—virtually one-half of the vocabulary—simply disappears. It has lost its theological legitimacy and therefore its viability as communication. A theologian of the cross says what a thing is. In modern parlance: a theologian of the cross calls a spade a spade. One who “looks on all things through suffering and the cross” is constrained to speak the truth. The theology of the cross, that is to say, provides the theological courage and the conceptual framework to hold the language in place. It will, no doubt, also involve critical appraisal of the language and its use. It will recognize indeed that the half of the vocabulary that has disappeared can be frightening and offensive. But it will see precisely that the cross and the resurrection itself is the only answer to that problem, not erasure or neglect.It is curious that in spite of attempts to avoid offense, matters don’t actually seem to improve. We seek affirmation, but we seem to experience less and less of it. We look for support, but others are too busy looking for it themselves to pay us much mind. Preachers try to prop up our self-esteem with optimistic blandishments, but more and more people seem to suffer from a deteriorating sense of self-worth. Perhaps a return to calling a spade a spade has its place.This is not to say, however, that the language of affirmation, comfort, support, building self-esteem, and so forth does not have its place. On the level of human relations it can be quite necessary and beneficial. It has its place, however, among that which is penultimate, in caring for the well-being of persons in this age. The danger and misuse comes when such language displaces or obscures the ultimate. It would be as though an alcoholic were to confuse breaking the habit with salvation. Penultimate cures are mistaken for ultimate redemption. When that happens the church becomes predominantly a support group rather than the gathering of the body of Christ where the word of the cross and resurrection is proclaimed and heard.What is, after all, the subject matter of a theology of the cross? Is it simply a repetition of the Passion story? Hardly. Is it then perhaps just another treatment of the doctrine of atonement? Not really. Is it just an account of an unusual sort of religious experience, a kind of spirituality, as we might say today? That may he closer to the truth, but still not exactly. It is rather a particular perception of the world and our destiny, what Luther came to call looking at all things through suffering and the cross. It has to do with what he referred to often as the question of usus, the way the cross is put to use in our lives.It might well be asked whether there is need or place for theologians of the cross today. They cannot but appear very critical and negative over against the optimism of a theology of glory. Is it not cruel to attack what little optimism we are able to muster these days? Would not the attack already be too late? Luther’s attack in the Heidelberg Disputation begins by ruthlessly shredding all ideas of the place of good works in the scheme of salvation. Yet, as is often remarked, who is trying to do good works any more? Is the theology of the cross a magnificent attack on a nonexistent enemy, a marvelous cure for a disease that no one has? Could it be perhaps, as with smallpox vaccine, that finally the vaccination causes more illness than the disease? Is a theologian of the cross a curious historical relic spreading pessimism where desperate people are hanging on by their fingertips?Anyone who gets some glimpse of what it means to be a theologian of the cross immediately realizes that the bane of a theology of glory never vanishes. It is the perennial theology of the fallen race. We have to persist in a theology of the cross in order precisely to expose that fact. I have come to wonder if the very theology of glory is not in a state of severe crisis. If it is true that no one is trying anymore, what does that portend? Does it mean, as a postmodernist might say, that the “Holy Words” no longer signify a meaningful destiny? Have we lost the thread of the story? Is the “official optimism of North America,” as theologian Douglas John Hall spoke of it, finally running off into sand? Could that be one of the reasons for the despair and chaos in our homes and in our streets? Has the thirst for glory finally issued in the despair that Luther foresaw?My suspicion is that the malaise of the theology of glory is the ultimate source of contemporary despair. My assumption is that a theology of the cross brings hope—indeed, the only ultimate hope.

The Law…

“It’s not your worst that you do that should bother you…but rather your best.

For it is not good enough, either.”Beautiful old lady from Darap(Sikkim) village

                      – Pastor Mark Anderson

 

The theology of Glory takes God’s Law and works it. 

It heats it and bends it, and softens it, then fashions a ring out of it ,  then places it in your nose so it can lead you here, and lead you there.

The theology of the Cross takes God’s Law as it is, a perfectly straight, sharp, iron rod…and drives it through your heart… in order to kill you off.

Which would you prefer? (neither sounds good)

‘Which Jesus?’

In case you haven’t noticed lately, there seems to be quite the assortment of Jesuses offered up to us in the culture, in churches, and in our own minds.

There is Jesus the great teacher.  Jesus teacheMy Sweet Lords us all about life, ourselves, and God. He fills in all the blanks so that there will be absolutely nothing keeping us from knowing all that we have to know in order to fulfill our humanity.

There is Jesus the great example. Jesus shows us (by example) exactly how we should act (WWJD),  so we will always be in the will of God, pleasing Him, and serving others.

There is Jesus our master. Holding all power over us, commanding us to do tasks, to live a certain way, to give up our possesions, to withhold nothing, to serve and obey Him at all times and in all things.

There is Jesus the great comforter. Jesus soothes our aching souls, and calms us in times of trial. Jesus encourages us to hang in there and not to give up. He lets us know that He will always be with us, through thick and thin.

There is Jesus the judge. Jesus will sort everything out. He will make sure that there is real justice and punish the evil doers. The liars, the cheats, the fornicators, the drunkards, the murderers…they will all get their just deserts. On that last Day Jesus will kick some you know what.

All of these Jesuses are real. He was and is all of these things. We may want, or not want Jesus in some or all of these aspects of His being. 

But there is one aspect of Jesus that for us should rise far above all the others and that should eclipse all the others in import, not only in our churches and in our hearts and minds, but also in the culture, insomuch as we have any say in the matter, and that is that Jesus came to save us from eternal death. 

He didn’t come to be a teacher. He didn’t come to be an example. He didn’t come to bring the law to bear on us. He didn’t come to be our therapist. He came to be our Savior. He came to die…for us. That we might live someday with Him, in eternal glory. That’s why He came. To save us from sin, death and the devil. This version of Jesus, the Savior Jesus, is, in the end, the only one we must have. 

We preach Christ crucified” – St. Paul

              – Steve M.

’68 People “Got Saved” yesterday…and today…and tomorrow…

Yesterday was an awesome day at the Lutheran Church of the Master congregation in Corona del Mar, CA.  Somewhere in the neighborhood of 68-70 people accepted the Lord Jesus as their Lord and Savior. That was about the number of people in worship. Pretty good, huh?

Well, it really is exciting. This ‘born again’ experience happens all the time at LCM (as it does in congregations large and small all over the world)

In our congregation it’s usually the same people, more or less, that are being saved (as St. Paul puts it in 1st Corinthians 1:18).  But that does change now and then when we get a visitor or two, or when someone is brought to the font for baptism.  And, as always, we must remember that only God knows for sure who the believers are.

During the week we reject Jesus, but out of the goodness of His heart, the Holy Spirit leads us to repentance, and we are born again and again and again. On Sunday, the same thing happens. We are slain by God’s law and brought to repentance, where once again, we are raised by the promise of the forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ.

On Sunday we were also invited with other baptised Christians to share in recieving the actual person of Christ in the Lord’s supper.  He accepts us and gives us life, the forgiveness of sins and salvation. In addition to His supper, we return to our baptisms, another place in our personal history where God has acted for us and made a decision for us, and where we can return with confidence and trust that His promise is true and is still in effect in our lives. So we don’t just remember our baptism and then move away from it, but rather we live in it.  “We are being saved.”

In goodness and mercy the Lord has called and chosen us to be His children. That we might not rely upon our own actions or feelings, He has given us His sacraments that we might have the blessed assurance of knowing that He will never leave us, nor forsake us, no matter what havoc is wrought by the world, the flesh, or the devil.

‘You Can’t Handle the Truth!’

You are forgiven. Completely forgiven. There’s nothing left for you to do.

The war is over.

Because of Christ’s work for you, in His faithfulness to the Father, and in His suffering and death upon that cross, ALL your wicked sins are forgiven.

No “if’s”, no “and’s”, and no…”yeah but’s”. You don’t have to add anything.

You couldn’t add anything even if you wanted to.

You are forgiven.  Because Jesus’ wants it that way.

That’s the Truth…with a capital ‘T’ and that rhymes with ‘He’ , because He has done it.  For you and to you.

Can you handle it?  This Truth of the forgiveness of sins for Jesus’ sake?  ( Not one  single “yeah but” ?)

I told you, all you old Adams and Eves out there…you can’t handle the Truth!

      A Blessed Easter to you all!

               – Steve

‘I’m Very Thankful for All the Bad Things in my Life’

 Right.

Isn’t that what scripture says…we are to be thankful to God for all things…good and bad?

 Last night, probably for the first time in my life, I actually was thankful to God for the bad things in my life. It was such a strange feeling. I really felt thankful about the bad stuff knowing that God was somehow using all this pain and suffering for a good purpose.

I’ve gotta be truthful (well, I don’t have to be ), usually when I thank God for the bad stuff I really don’t mean it. I do it because we are suppossed to do it. Now, I know that He knows that I don’t mean it, but I figure…what’s the harm in saying it anyway?

But last night it was different.I really meant it. But it came and went so fast it would make your head spin.  A flicker, and then it was gone. It was a real comfort to me for that brief moment. A glimpse (maybe) of what trusting God is all about.

Will that real trust in God return to me? I can’t really say. Part of me doesn’t want it to. That would mean that the pain would still be there from my broken life and the broken lives of my family.

Is it wrong to actually want to trade trust in God for a pain free life?

Do you ever have similar contradictions in your walk of faith?

Thanks.

                  – Steve