The Meaning of Christ’s Ascension
As many states' governments are talking about a “phased” reopening from the COVID-19 lockdown, our quarantined trio –bound in three different states—is asking some important questions concerning going back to church. When might Christians be able to congregate in person? How will we “do church” as social distancing concerns remain? And, what might we discover when we finally gather?
As they continue “social distancing,” the team gets together virtually with Matthew Barrett. He’s associate professor of Christian Theology at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Kansas City, executive editor of Credo Magazine, and author and editor of several great theological books. His latest—Canon, Covenant, and Christology—is the topic of today’s conversation.
It’s time to bring back the phrase memento mori ("remember you must die"). Socrates taught that the proper practice of philosophy is nothing other than preparing to be dead. Stoics emphasized the value of living with death on the brain — meaning it was best to avoid emotional entanglements when death was going to have the last word anyway. Every significant world religion expends the majority of its energy orienting its followers on how to live in the light of death and the afterlife.
In the thirty minutes after Sunday school and before morning worship, our congregation talks, drinks coffee, and nibbles muffins at long white tables in the fellowship hall. Before the pandemic forced us into social distancing, this was a predictable part of our weekly gathering. I hope it will be again.
At first glance, our “fellowship time” appears to be simply an intermission—a chance for people to relax and exchange pleasantries between the main events. But a closer look shows that this half-hour is not a pause in the action at all.
Herman Bavinck, The Wonderful Works of God: Instruction in the Christian Religion according to the Reformed Confession (Westminster Seminary Press 2019). 549pp. Hardcover. $30.00.
Patrick and His Mission
Every year, we read articles about the “real” Saint Patrick – the one who didn’t drive out snakes and didn’t use a shamrock to explain the Trinity. His own account of his life, expressed in his Confessions, has become better known, but is still not commonly read. Yet, it holds much interesting information about this fervent missionary.
One summer, a family man (and personal friend) traveled to Paris, where he spent a morning enjoying Luxembourg Gardens. In time, he noticed a group of mothers who, he realized, were so engrossed in their conversation that they tilted toward neglect of their children. He watched as one child wandered ever farther from her mother in the crowded park. Not yet two, she began to follow a family, apparently thinking its mother was her mother. When the group crossed a street and hurried onward, the child was finally quite alone.
In recent years, it seems increasingly rare to hear believers say, “I grew up in a happy home and we had everything we needed.” I almost never hear anyone say “I am making progress as a disciple,” although healthy believers should keep growing (below). The unfettered gratitude we hear in Psalm 16:6 has gone missing: “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.” It has become difficult, even fraught, to say “My life is good,” in public at least.
Arguably one of the greatest errors we can fall into when it comes to understanding grace is that ‘It’s all about me and all about now’. This attitude has reached epidemic proportions in Western churches and may well explain our relative lack of resilience and usefulness compared to other parts of the world. Such a view of grace is, however, not only far-removed from what has been true in the church through most of its history, but from the Bible itself.
The more we have explored the theme of grace as it unfolds in different ways throughout Scripture, the more we have discovered its variegated beauty and its far-reaching implications for our lives as Christians. It is more pervasive than we often imagine and, as we have noted in an earlier post, this is because grace is not a commodity, but is embodied in the incarnate Christ and is ours through our union and communion with him. There is therefore nothing static about grace, it is as living and vibrant and dynamic as is Christ himself.
(Rev. 1:17, 18)
Walking with God