I gained a new insight from my study of Galatians 5:13-26 this past week while studying for my third sermon on this passage. The source of the insight was an older commentary I found online. I cannot remember the name of the commentary or its author, otherwise I would cite it here, as what follows is not original with me.
I had always thought this passage compared two different ways of living; one, living under the law, which I had put together with the lusts of the flesh; and two, living in the Spirit, or living according to the Spirit of God, by whom one is able to produce the fruit of the Spirit in one's life.
Through the help of this commentary, however, I have come to see that there are three different kinds of lifestyle being referred to in this passage. The first is living under law, or having an external set of rules and standard by which one orders one's life. The second is living in freedom, but a freedom which is consumed by the flesh. This is truly a freedom; for it lives in disregard for all law. It may be in conformity to some of it -- whatever makes the self feel like a good person -- but otherwise it disregards law and does whatever it pleases. But this is not the freedom for which Christ has set us free. Christ has set us free for a third kind of lifestyle, the lifestyle of love, the lifestyle of service, service to one another in love.
This is a lifestyle which is not lived for the self but for others. This is a lifestyle that fulfills the entirety of the law. Paul states that the entirety of the law is fulfilled in the one command to love one another even as we love ourselves. This is a lifestyle that is not marked by the characteristics of the second kind of freedom, by the striving, by the discontent, by the feuding and fighting that is characteristic of a person who is only serving themselves and trying to get ahead at the expense of everyone else. It is also absent the manipulation and the conniving and the backbiting and the lying of those who are only pursuing their own agenda, or who will stop at nothing, or run over anything and anyone in order to get their own way.
It is the second kind of freedom that is insisted upon by the rebel. It is a freedom, but it is not the freedom of Christ. Even if you add the name of Christ to it, this freedom is still a malicious freedom; it is not kind, it is not gentle, it is not loving, it does not bear under any adversity well. This sets this rebellious freedom apart from the truly Christian freedom that comes from the life of the Spirit. This kind of freedom is kind, it is peaceable, it is loving, it is patient, it does endure under pressure and distress.
This latter freedom comes only at a price, according to Paul. It is the price of crucifixion of the self and its selfish desires. Those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh with is passions and its desires. The second kind of freedom, the rebellious kind, must be left behind, totally and utterly forsaken, if the freedom of the Spirit is ever to manifest itself. Failure to do so leaves the soul in its turmoil, and it brings turmoil and struggle and striving to every situation that encounters. Only in the freedom of the Spirit is there peace.
Those of us who name the name of Christ often live in the rebellious kind of freedom thinking that since we are not under the law we are free to live as we please. But this is far from the truth. We have been released from the law, but we live in fulfillment of it, living in love, having crucified ourselves and our passions and desires in order to live for the glory of Christ. So much of the rebellious lifestyle is contrary to law; it is outlawed behavior, behavior which is illegal, or certainly that which is immoral. The freedom of the Spirit, however, is commendable behavior; we would not even dream of passing a law against it. Who would think of outlawing love as dangerous, or passing a law against gentleness, or making kindness and peace illegal? Thus it is in compliance with law; nay, it supersedes law, for it fulfills the requirements of the law by going above and beyond.
This is the true freedom of the Christian; and it is the link between freedom and the fruit of the Spirit. This is the freedom for which Christ has set us free. This is a freedom which keeps the desires in check; it is a restrained freedom, a freedom from destructive behavior. May God give us grace to live in this kind of freedom until the end of our days here on this earth.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Hearing, Listening and Idolatry
I have just begun reading another book entitled You Become What You Worship, by G. K. Beale. Beale's thesis is that you become what you worship, or in other words that you become like the idols to which you devote your worship -- assuming, of course, that you are not worshiping the true God. Beale argues that if you are worshiping an idol, you will become like them: you will be hardhearted; you will have eyes, but not be able to see; you will have ears, but will not be able to hear; you will be hardheaded and foolish as well.
In his opening remarks, Beale speaks of the call of God to Isaiah as recorded in Isaiah 6. Isaiah is told to make the ears of the people dull, and their eyes dim, and their hearts hard; lest they hear with their ears and see with their eyes, and understand with their hearts, and return to the Lord and be healed. Beale assesses that the reason for the pronouncement of judgment of God upon the people was their many years of idolatry, their refusal to worship the Lord God alone, their perpetual turning to the gods of the other nations, and their worship of wealth, influence and power.
I may be adding a bit to Beale in this assessment, as I have only complete a chapter or so of his work. But I can see the direction in which he is going. Beale argues, I think, that the idol comes first, then the progressing conformation into its image. I have to wonder if it might be the other way around. Could it be that the idol is the projection of our own hearts? Could it be that the reason why our hearts are hard, our ears dull, our eyes closed, our head empty is because our idol is actually ourselves? After all, what meaning and what conception do we pour into our idol? Is it not the conception of the Ultimate that exists already in our own minds?
The average person does not hear very well. We do not listen. We hear, but we do not understand. We do not even try to understand; rather we judge. We have our rebuttal on our tongue long before the other person is finished. And we wait, anxiously, for our turn to come, so that we can spout off with the "wise-crack" of sardonic depreciation. We generally cannot see any farther than the end of our nose. We are great at looking down the nose, but we don't open our eyes and look up very often. Our brain is so often closed -- especially those who are would argue that they are open-minded; these are some of the most close-minded of all. Generally this means that they have closed their eyes to the truth, and they have their eyelids screwed shut.
Christians are no better than others. It is the result of our limited view, our short-sighted vision, our relative deafness to that which we cannot understand. Beale assesses it quite well as idolatry, the worship of ourselves, the worship of what we have formed and shaped with our own hands.
The Scripture scoffs at our humanity. We cut down the tree, we chop it up into pieces. With one piece we make a fire to stay warm. With another we build our houses. With the third piece we form out a god, overlay it with gold, place in its hand precious jewels; and then we bow down to it in worship, and say, "I thank you, O my father, that you made me as outstanding and wise as I am!"
This perhaps characterizes the rebellious better than anything else in the book. Hardhearted, just like the tree trunk itself. Or worse yet, rotten to the core, totally empty and entire devoid of life inside. Foolish, and yet ever so wise; seeing the "truth," and yet not perceiving reality. Listening to all the wrong voices, and filling their empty-headed minds with the vain philosophies of other warped humans.
The saddest thing is that so often this is a description of even myself. Wise in my own vain conceits. At least by the grace of God I can see it. At least by the grace of God I sense the deafness deep in my soul. Speak to me, Voice of God. Open my ears let me hear. Show me, Lord God, the beautiful things in Your word. Soften my heart, Lord God; break up the hard, fallow ground. And help me to feel, and teach me to love. And, please, make my heart just a bit less rebellious.
In his opening remarks, Beale speaks of the call of God to Isaiah as recorded in Isaiah 6. Isaiah is told to make the ears of the people dull, and their eyes dim, and their hearts hard; lest they hear with their ears and see with their eyes, and understand with their hearts, and return to the Lord and be healed. Beale assesses that the reason for the pronouncement of judgment of God upon the people was their many years of idolatry, their refusal to worship the Lord God alone, their perpetual turning to the gods of the other nations, and their worship of wealth, influence and power.
I may be adding a bit to Beale in this assessment, as I have only complete a chapter or so of his work. But I can see the direction in which he is going. Beale argues, I think, that the idol comes first, then the progressing conformation into its image. I have to wonder if it might be the other way around. Could it be that the idol is the projection of our own hearts? Could it be that the reason why our hearts are hard, our ears dull, our eyes closed, our head empty is because our idol is actually ourselves? After all, what meaning and what conception do we pour into our idol? Is it not the conception of the Ultimate that exists already in our own minds?
The average person does not hear very well. We do not listen. We hear, but we do not understand. We do not even try to understand; rather we judge. We have our rebuttal on our tongue long before the other person is finished. And we wait, anxiously, for our turn to come, so that we can spout off with the "wise-crack" of sardonic depreciation. We generally cannot see any farther than the end of our nose. We are great at looking down the nose, but we don't open our eyes and look up very often. Our brain is so often closed -- especially those who are would argue that they are open-minded; these are some of the most close-minded of all. Generally this means that they have closed their eyes to the truth, and they have their eyelids screwed shut.
Christians are no better than others. It is the result of our limited view, our short-sighted vision, our relative deafness to that which we cannot understand. Beale assesses it quite well as idolatry, the worship of ourselves, the worship of what we have formed and shaped with our own hands.
The Scripture scoffs at our humanity. We cut down the tree, we chop it up into pieces. With one piece we make a fire to stay warm. With another we build our houses. With the third piece we form out a god, overlay it with gold, place in its hand precious jewels; and then we bow down to it in worship, and say, "I thank you, O my father, that you made me as outstanding and wise as I am!"
This perhaps characterizes the rebellious better than anything else in the book. Hardhearted, just like the tree trunk itself. Or worse yet, rotten to the core, totally empty and entire devoid of life inside. Foolish, and yet ever so wise; seeing the "truth," and yet not perceiving reality. Listening to all the wrong voices, and filling their empty-headed minds with the vain philosophies of other warped humans.
The saddest thing is that so often this is a description of even myself. Wise in my own vain conceits. At least by the grace of God I can see it. At least by the grace of God I sense the deafness deep in my soul. Speak to me, Voice of God. Open my ears let me hear. Show me, Lord God, the beautiful things in Your word. Soften my heart, Lord God; break up the hard, fallow ground. And help me to feel, and teach me to love. And, please, make my heart just a bit less rebellious.
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