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| Cleansing of the Temple, detail by Pieter Aertsen 17th Century |
For some people I know, my being a Christian is an odd quirk. It doesn’t make me anathema to them but it also doesn’t seem to make them think I am a particularly good person. It, among other things, is what makes me a bit odd but still more-or-less likeable. I remember walking into a conversation one day that one of these people – I’ll call him Jimmy – was having with a mutual friend, who is also a Christian. As soon as I walked into the room Jimmy looked at me and said, “Can you honestly tell me that you believe in angels and a devil?” He had a smirk and a curious laugh as he spoke but it was not to mock me. It communicated more that he thought these were beyond credulity. I like talking to Jimmy because I can be frank about what I believe with him and we can have a serious conversation about it but when the conversation gets too intense we can easily slide into a chat about Doctor Who and he’ll let me proselytize again in a few weeks. “I do,” I replied to Jimmy. “But you need to realize that isn’t nearly so weird as the fact that I believe a guy who died came back to life after a few days. Angels are way easier than that.”
“Well, I suppose,” said Jimmy. “So... David Tennant or Matt Smith?”
“Foolish question. Tennant. Of course!”
This conversation happened a few years ago, but it kept coming back in my mind when I was thinking about this week’s scripture passages, particularly the reading from 1 Corinthians 1:18-25 where Paul talks about how foolish it seems to believe that the cross is able to do anything to resolve sin in the world. Paul gives us three options to address the problems around us. First, we have the Jews and signs. If we can see such signs, everything will be ok. Second, we have the Greeks and the wisdom that comes with philosophy. If we gain understanding from one of the philosophical schools of thought, everything will be ok. Third, we have the cross. If we place our faith Jesus and his death, everything will be ok.
A couple of points around Paul’s language are necessary, particularly related to his use of the words Jew and Greek. A straightforward reading of other bits of the Bible tells us that not all Jews saw signs as salvific. Shortly before Paul’s writing, Jews were placing faith in Jesus and the cross by the thousands according to the book of Acts. Similarly, Greeks were coming to faith as well. Paul’s own writings indicated this – letters to Romans, Ephesians, Galatians, and even Corinthians – were addressed specifically to churches outside of Jewish upbringing. Rather than describing entire people groups with a single word, “Jew” and “Greek” seem to be name cards that describe worldviews.
It is also important to understand that signs and wisdom are not entirely devoid of value. While Jesus was clear during his ministry that miracles would not compel people to believe, he still used miracles throughout his life. Some of these miracles seemed to indicate that he was one with the Father, while others seemed to help people out of difficult scenarios. Such signs did not generate faith but they must have done some good, otherwise I don’t expect Jesus would have performed them so regularly.* Similarly, Paul used Greek philosophy to help point people to Jesus. This is most clear in his sermon about the Unknown God. Again, while not salvific, Greek wisdom did have a place in pointing people to Jesus.
What, then, should be made of Paul telling us that looking to signs or wisdom for salvation are problems? I think there are three things to consider. First, I should understand that I am not good enough to fix anything. Second, I should understand that God understands things in a way that I cannot comprehend, which means that my faith should be in him rather than his methods. Third, I should understand that smarter people than me have put their faith in the wrong direction.
The Ten Commandments is a fascinating document. Here are ten seemingly obvious rules for life. If I follow them, it would make sense that I am in the right with God. I expect I am doing pretty well. I worship only YHWH. I’ve never stolen, murdered, or committed adultery. I honour my parents. I have never carved or cast an idol. I’ve never lied in court. I must be able to bring about my own salvation based on this record alone. I perfectly met 70% of the commandments. Yes, I have coveted, used the Lord’s name improperly, and broken the Sabbath; it isn’t like I break these rules all the time, however. I am not perfect, but I am pretty good. I have a nagging feeling in my stomach that 70% is not good enough. What if I went for the full 100%? We actually have two examples of men who were blameless before the law. First, the Rich Young Ruler goes to Jesus and says he followed the law perfectly. Jesus does not argue. Second, Paul himself says that he followed the law. In both cases, however, something else is necessary. Paul realizes this himself. The Rich Young Ruler needs to be told by Jesus. My own moral failures make it obvious that I cannot achieve my own salvation using the Law. Paul and the ruler should make it obvious that no one can.
I would call myself a contemplative-activist. By this I mean that I am active to bring about positive social change, but that I do not act before carefully considering whether my actions will actually bring about the type of positive social change I want or whether my actions will glorify God. This approach means I spend a lot of time thinking, reading and listening to podcasts, writing, and doing other things that some people would call “sitting in a chair.” Then I see things happen that I cannot explain. I feel like God is in those moments and there is nothing that indicates that he is not, but I do not understand how or even why he is active in such moments. I also find myself in situations where I know the only way that something I am in the middle of doing will turn out positively is if God bails me out. Without another option, I keep working away at it, hating the direction I am traveling, and hit the end of the road in a seeming disaster with no idea of why God did not step in before I messed everything up. In both types of situations, the time reading, listening, and writing seem somewhat useless. Many times (at the very least), then, both my contemplative nature and my activist nature are outside the bounds of where God is working. It would seem that the only thing I could glean from this is that I do not always plant my faith firmly in God but instead place it in “how hard” I read, think, or even pray. It seems that my god is not always my God. I need to be very aware of the company that this puts me in. Jesus ran into the temple with a whip and chased the money changers out for dishonouring his Father’s house. When he is confronted about this, he tells his accusers that he is about to knock the temple over and then rebuild it in three days. They scoff, knowing the temple is not yet fully built after decades of work. It did not occur to Jesus’ conversation partners that the messiah would die and that death would bring about salvation. I genuinely wonder what side of this conversation I would have been on, but I typically do not like where this wondering takes me.
It should be obvious at this point that my faith has been given, at times, to the wrong saviour. This week’s readings should encourage me, at least somewhat, because they let me know that I am not alone in doing this. The men Jesus speaks with are religious leaders who have spent years studying scripture. The Greeks that Paul refers to are some of the greatest philosophers that our culture has produced and their works are still studied today. The Psalmist today is David, a man said to be after God’s own heart, who wrote beautiful poetry to praise God, and who is still regarded as one of Israel’s most significant leaders; his reputation, though, is forever tarnished after he caught a glimpse of a woman in the bath, dwelled on her, took her, and killed her husband. The religious leaders put their faith in the law and the Temple, the Greeks put their faith in their own thinking, and David put his faith in his power and ability to conceal. The fact that the religious leaders, the Greeks, and King David could not make it on their own should be enough evidence that no one – least of all me – can.
Where does this leave us then? Of the options Paul gives us – wisdom, signs, the cross – the cross seems to be the only one left. Paul acknowledges how silly this seems. The cross is an instrument of torture and torment. It is not simply execution. It is execution to warn everyone else. It is execution that only the lowest of the low would suffer. It is a brutal medium that broadcasts the message about who has power and who does not. Jesus being on that cross is a message from Rome, a message from the religious leaders, and very possibly a message from the Accuser that Jesus is not able to change anything.
Yet, the cross is the very place Christians place their hope in God’s offering of salvation. This seems foolish. If wisdom does not bring people to God, nor signs, nor Law, how can the cross? It has to do with faith and where we place it. On the face of it, placing our faith in the cross seems futile. If we start with Jesus, however, it seems less futile because of who he is. We must ask ourselves, does Jesus’ teaching about the world seem worthwhile? Do we believe that he can indeed make things better? Is this a messiah worth following? If our answer is yes, the value of the cross begins to make more sense to us. How God used the cross and death to save is not yet always clear in my mind or heart. The fact that God is the one who chose this method, however, makes it clear to me that it is the only option.
The darkest day is coming. The brightest will follow.
*I hope 21st Century “Greeks” like me will remember Paul’s warning about searching for signs when working on our apologetics.
Attribution for art work: Aertsen, Pieter. Cleansing of the Temple, detail, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56496 [retrieved March 4, 2018]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pieter_Aertsen_Christ_cleansing_the_Temple.png.
Scripture readings are from the Revised Common Lectionary, Year B: https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=B&season=Lent
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