AC/DC

AC/DC is an Australian hard rock band popular for songs like "Highway to Hell" and "Hell's Bells." 

Such song names led to speculation that the band might be Satanic and that AC/DC stood for "Anti-Christ/Devil's Child." 

One of my professors in school grew up with Malcolm and Angus, the brother's who founded the band. He then toured with them for a number of years as their sound tech. 

He told us the name AC/DC actually came from a sticker on an Australian vacuum cleaner that read AC NOT DC. He also explained that the song title "Hell's Bells" came from a bell hop at a London hotel who always said, "Oh Hell's Bells!" every time something went wrong.

The idea is you can't believe everything you hear. We all walk in varying shades of ignorance depending on the subject matter, so it's probably best to go straight to the source when confronted with things that concern us. And if you can't get to the source? Suspend judgment.

Moral Improvement

Fundamental to the Christian faith is the idea that Jesus died for sins (1 Cor 15.3). But what does that mean?

We have looked at the Ransom and Substitution models and in this post we'll check out the Moral Influence Theory (MIT). 

The MIT suggests that the purpose of Jesus life, death, and resurrection was to bring about positive moral change. To change the world by spreading love from one person to the next (cf. Mt 28.19; Jn 15.13).

This view was held by almost all early church writers including Clement, Ignatius, Origen, Irenaeus, and Augustine. It was reformulated in the 12th century by Peter Abelard in reaction to Anselm's Substitution theory.

It is a "subjective" model where Christ changes humanity vs. an "objective" model, like Substitutionary Atonement, where God is changed by Christ. In the MIT, God does not require Christ's death to satisfy divine justice and so no change in God is effected by the cross.

Instead in the MIT, God is primarily concerned with whether a person's inner character is good or evil. We are to follow Christ's example of selfless love (cf. 1 Pt 2.21), even if as with him, it costs us our lives.

The MIT has many strong points, including its recognition of the numerous passages in the NT that speak of God's final judgment according to moral conduct, as well as those that speak of the life change Jesus came to motivate (cf 1 Cor 3, Mt 25). 

It has been critiqued for not taking sin or God's wrath seriously enough, as well as promoting salvation by works.

The majority of the critiques, though, come from a lens that has been clouded by the Substitution model, where the focus is primarily on Jesus' death. Instead, the MIT focuses on the whole story, including the movement that was birthed out of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and its trans-formative impact on the world. 

As with all the models, the MIT should not be seen as the only way to view the Christ event, but rather another piece in the beautiful mosaic God created two-thousand years ago. 

Next Post in the Series: the Christus Victor Model

Producing Life

Jesus is approached by a dad with a serious problem: his twelve-year-old daughter is dying. So he asks Jesus to come and touch her, hoping this will make her well (Mk 5).

Jesus agrees and sets off towards the man's house, but he's not alone. A large crowd is following him and in that crowd is a woman who also has a serious problem: she has been bleeding for twelve years. 

This condition leaves her ceremonially unclean (Lev 15) and cuts her off from full participation in her community. In the ancient world things like sex, birth, and death were mysterious and powerful, and thus taboo, so any association with them made a person unclean. 

Because of this she wasn't supposed to touch anyone, but she touches Jesus. This act miraculously heals her.

Unfortunately her healing took time and during this delay the twelve-year-old dies. Jesus continues toward her home anyway, and when he arrives he finds her family mourning.

He asks the family why they are making so much commotion and tells them "the girl is only sleeping." They laugh at him, but then he touches her, telling her to wake up, and she is restored to life.

The woman bleeding for twelve years and the twelve-year-old who is brought back to life, symbolize Jesus' restoration of Israel. Israel was made of twelve tribes and in healing these women, he is restoring life to the "life producers" of Israel. 

The Rapture

The idea of The Rapture, where Jesus snatches people up into heaven while they are driving their cars, asleep in bed, or walking with a friend, comes mainly from a misunderstanding of 1 Thess 4.16-17:

For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel's call and with the sound of God's trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever.

Here the author Paul is describing the return of Jesus to the new earth (cf. Rom 8:18-27; Rev 21:1; Is 65:17, 66:22). So the idea is not escaping to somewhere else, but actually staying here and inhabiting the remade world. 

This makes sense when one understands that in 1 Thess 4, Paul is conjuring up images of a king returning to his homeland after victory in battle. The king is met by his citizens in the open country and then escorted back into the city. 

There is an image of people "meeting the Lord in the air," but it is followed by the assumption that they will immediately return to the newly remade world.

The word rapture comes from the Latin translation of the Greek word for caught up in 1 Thess 4.17. The idea of such an event was popularized by John Nelson Darby in the mid 1800s and further propagated by books (and movies) like the Left Behind series. 

Belief in The Rapture is amazingly popular in the US, but is not widely accepted in Christianity as a whole. So this Saturday, rest easy. Nothing is going to happen, certainly nothing that looks like The Rapture.

For a Biblical perspective on the Second Coming of Jesus, see N.T. Wright's book, Surprised By Hope

I Don't Believe In God

When I worked as a Medic I worked 12 hr shifts. Some days the time flew, other days the clock seemed to move slower than it did when I was in detention in Jr. High.

Slow days meant lots of time to get to know coworkers. I remember chatting with a new partner one time when the conversation moved to religion. I told him about my education and work in the church and he said, "I don't believe in God."

I asked him which God he didn't believe in and he described his strict religious upbringing, where he felt God was nothing more than an old man in the sky who judged his every deed. 

He also talked about how his parents put on "Sunday Faces" appearing one way to their church friends and living much differently the rest of the week.

I told him I didn't believe in that God either. I told him I believed in a God who revealed himself in Jesus, who looked out for those who couldn't look out for themselves; who spent his time chillin' with "sinners," and saved most of his words of condemnation for religious people. 

I shared my belief in a God who through his every action embodied love and wanted nothing more than for people to experience life to the fullest, embracing what it meant to be fully human. It was a great conversation. 

Maybe the idea is to ask lots of questions. Ask people to clarify when they present ideas that are different than your own. 

Get them to share their story. You may find it very similar to yours. You may even find there are some versions of God you don't believe in, and that is a good thing.

Penal Problems

For the last few days we have been discussing the models used to explain what Jesus did when he "died for sins" (1 Cor 15.3).

First and foremost, we must keep in mind that they are only "models." They seek to direct our attention to the mystery of what happened when God became flesh, died, and then rose again (Rom 11.33ff). 

When speaking about God, we (and the Bible as well) are limited by language. So we use parables, analogies, and metaphors, all in an attempt to paint a picture of what it looks like when the Infinite interacts with the finite.

The last post in the series introduced the Penal Substitution model (PS) and today we will look at it a little closer. As a review, this model essentially says: We deserve punishment for our sin and God punished Jesus instead of us. 

PS is a model we use to point us to the "fact" that our sins are forgiven, but does not explain the intricacies of "how" exactly they are forgiven. When we focus on the "how," all of the models run into problems, but especially PS. 

Take for example the problems that arise when we take passages that speak of Christ's work on our behalf, such as Rom 3.25, 1 Jn 2.2, 4.10, and misinterpret them. Those passages clearly state that Christ is an "atoning sacrifice" (Gk. hilasterion/hilasmos - mercy-seat/sin offering) for us.

But the question is: how did the sacrificial system work? Sacrifices in the Hebrew Scriptures did not "take the place" of the wrong-doer, rather they fulfilled cultic rituals as a part of the Covenant and paved the way for forgiveness. It has always been God's forgiveness, often without sacrifice, that restored people to him (cf. Jonah, Mic 6.6-8). 

But Jesus was a sacrifice and one picture we get of him is as the Passover Lamb (John 19). We might think that this picture suggests that Jesus died "in our place," but that's not the role of the lamb in the Passover story. 

There the lamb's blood was used as a sign to mark those who belonged to God and save them from God's wrath. So in the end we see that saying Jesus was a sacrifice for us does not necessarily mean God punished him "in our place."

With that said, there are places in the NT that do speak about Jesus dying "in our place" (Gk anti cf. Mt 20.28, Mk 10.45). But there are many others where language about Jesus dying "for us" does not mean "in our place." Those verses would be much better translated "for our benefit." We should let each passage speak for itself and not force them to say things they are not saying.

Finally, PS argues that Christ died so we don't have to. But what about the very prominent NT theme of participation in Christ's death (cf. Heb 13.11-16, Rom 6.1-4, Gal 2.20), where we put to death the "old way," the way of sin death, and disorder and are "raised" to new life (2 Cor 5.14ff)? In this way Jesus doesn't prevent our death, he actually brings it about.

There are many other critiques of this model, some valid, others not. In the end, PS captures the power behind a number of "pictures" in the NT about the Cross, but it is limited, and we need the other models in order to most fully grasp the beauty of the Christ event. 

Next post: The Moral Influence Theory

For more on this issue check out Packer's well argued view of PS. It covers pros an cons fairly but is limited by its inaccurate understanding of the Mosaic Law.

Active Theology

Theology: it sounds like a fancy word but it really just means "words about God." I wonder where most Americans learn theology? Where are we presented with the most "words about God?"

I find most people don't actually read the Bible, and even those that do read a verse here, or a chapter there. Which is fine for individual application - it couldn't be bad to meditate on a verse about "giving thanks" or "loving people we don't like" - but such reading does not tell the whole story.

What about church? Surely we encounter theology in Church? Most church services today contain two major blocks of theology: the Music (most often mislabeled as worship), and the Message. 

I know pastors who spend 30+ hours a week preparing a sermon, laboring over every detail of their message. Then they present those ideas, some in incredibly dynamic ways, but none-the-less to a passive audience. 

What is the effect of such a presentation? The latest studies in how we learn best suggest we are active learners - we need to participate to really "get it". 

Where we do participate is during the music. It's rarely the sermon points that get stuck in my head a week later, but the music does. Why is that? For one reason, it's the 7/11 model - same 7 words repeated 11x. 

This may annoy some church-goers, but if the idea is communicating words about God and wanting those words to stay with people, this model works: we participate, we are physically active, not passive, we repeat (sometimes ad nauseum), and weeks after the ideas communicated in the songs stay with us. 

Two questions then. One, if the goal of a sermon is getting people to retain theology, should we adopt a more participatory model of communication? 

Two, if the majority of effective theology is being presented through music, are we spending enough time making sure the theology we communicate is what we endorse?