³ I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers.

It’s important to Paul to say that his faith is inline with that of his Jewish ancestors because this very point is often in question among his countrymen. But a more literal rendering would be forefathers.  In any case, notice how he refers to Timothy later on in the same paragraph:

5 I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.

So Paul serves according to his forefathers and Timothy according to his “foremothers”. I think this is cool affirmation of the place of women in the Christian faith. The parallel equates Paul’s heritage with Timothy’s and Timothy’s is no less valid for having come from the female side of the family.

I looked online and found the Union Church of Istanbul, which on the map looked beguilingly easy to reach. In real life we took the tram from Sultanahmet and wandered up and down the streets of the Beyoglu neighborhood, stumbled upon the ancient tower of Galata, greeted some of the many cats that lounge about the city, and found the broad and crowded pedestrian shopping thoroughfare called Istaklil. But the way to Union Church of Istanbul seemed to be the narrow one. It eluded us.

Our breakthrough came at about 12:15, right about the time the service was ending. Cathy saw some people on Istaklil greeting each other and it seemed to her that they might know where the church was.  I asked her later what made her think these were Christians leaving church and she noted that they were foreigners who were talking about seeing each other later in the week. Random? She really called it though.

It turned out we were just a block or two from the church, which is a small chapel in a consulate. When we got there, we wandered through the thinning after service crowd looking to make some sort of meaningful contact; something that would at least justify the effort.  In a matter of minutes we were speaking with a fellow Christian from Boston, who introduced us to another couple from England and next thing we know we were all going out to lunch together. Within five minutes two mutual acquaintances were discovered.

When I told of how Cathy had recognized some church goers on the street, one of our new friends said with insight, “we are a tribe, aren’t we?”

In recent years I have traveled a lot throughout Latin America with a few trips across the pond too. Each time I felt bad because here I was “galavanting” around, sometimes staying in very nice accommodations and exotic locales but neither Cathy nor the kids got in on it.

That all ends on Thursday.

I have a consultation in Istanbul next week with the World Evangelical Alliance and I after that I am teaching at a YWAM base in Norway, and everyone is going this time. Huge project, lots of excitement, high expectations.

On the last few trips I have felt really down about leaving everyone behind. As much as I love travel there is a loneliness to it. Unless you are going to a place with someone or you know the people your are going to spend time with  well, it can be a pretty silent time, with just the hotel room television to keep you company at the end of the day.

A friend of mine tells the story of a Hare Krishna that he met once, back in the day, in a Christian bookstore. As the conversation ensued it became a bit of a debate about the validity of the this religious expression. Perhaps some strong things were said. Later my friend noticed the Hare Krishna follower siting outside the store in his red robe crying. He approached, thinking that perhaps the man had seen the error of his ways and was ready to hear more about Jesus, the Bible, the gospel, etc. But the answer to his concerned query was unexpected:

“Why do people misunderstand us so much?” Cried the devout Hare Krishna.

I might know something of how he felt, even if it that makes for rather odd bedfellows.

Many firsts here:

• First Latin American pope.
• First pope named after St. Francis of Assisi (Francis, you finally made it to the top!)
• First pope to to follow a living pope.
• First Jesuit to become a Pope.
• First pope to wash the feed of women / Muslim in the Good Friday foot washing ceremony.
• First in a century to forgo the luxury of  the papal apartments, choosing rather the more simple papal guest house.
• First pope in recent history to mingle with crowds and ride around in non-armored vehicles.

What other firsts are in store?

I some cases worldview is used as the category under which one brings together theory and practice. Of particular interest is the “view” part of the term: this is about an embedded human perceptive on the universe. The questions involve what is true, where did we come from, where are we going and how then should we live in the here and now in light of all this?

My part of the event was to talk about Jesus’ political views in the light of his contemporaries. And it turns out Jesus’ political views agree with mine! Ok, ok. I’m only joking. But it’s an important joke actually because I suspect many Christians do actually make the very simplistic step of reading their views about politics and society back into the life, times and teachings of Jesus. Motivations and presuppositions being the tricky things they are, I’m not going to claim that I have escaped that either. But I will say that I made an attempt to describe Jesus in his own time and place based on historical and biblical data. I think it’s at least a good place to start.

There were several political options in Jesus’ day, but they were all based on the same set of issues and vision for what life should be like. The Jews at the time of Jesus, you will perhaps recall, had been living under foreign domination for about five centuries by this time, and this political reality had led to a very deep sense of frustration. The worry circulating among Jews for generations was something like this: if we are the people of the God who created the world and has all power over that world, why are we perpetually ruled over by foreign powers and empires? Shouldn’t we be the one’s in the seat of power? A certain kind of reading of the Hebrew scriptures could lead to that conclusion. The answer to the question was actually not that big of a mystery. Given the premises, there could only be one: the nation is not faithful to God, not holy enough, not dedicated enough, not sufficiently single-minded in its worship. That is why God is not blessing and empowering it. The next logical step was to talk about what it meant to get back into God’s favor, and it is this final step that informed the different political options of the day.

How do we get back in with God so that the nation can prosper?

Does that question sound familiar? It should because one hears it both literally and as a whispered implication in political Christian discourse today.  But I digress. Back to the first century. Here are some of the main political agendas of the time of Jesus based on the answer to that question.

The Zealots stood for old fashioned style military action of the type described copiously in the Hebrew scriptures. The zealots in fact got there name from an incident described in Number 25:1-12 where an individual named Phinehas shows “zeal” for the Lord by killing a couple people who had flagrantly disobeyed the law of Moses. They had the example of the Maccabees to guide them too. In second century BC these Jews had carved out a small military kingdom that survived for 100 years between the waning and waxing of empires. The zealots, btw, finally got their chance in AD 70 when the Jews rebelled against Rome and were subsequently utterly and completely defeated by the Romans. Jerusalem and the temple were razed and Judaism as it existed at the time of Jesus ceased to exist. So, how do the zealots bring back the state of blessing for Israel? Praise God and pass the arrows.

Qumran sectarians: Another group placed their hopes in an alternate pure society. The Qumran sectarians lived in isolation out in the desert overlooking the Dead Sea where they at least could be righteous and holy all on their own. They were severely critical of the religious establishment of their day, particularly the temple leadership, and they were convinced that if they remained pure, God would return TO THEM, not to the other unfaithful people. They saw their little group as central to the cosmic battle between good and evil and they were extremely critical of all outsiders, whom they were taught to hate. They might have thought their own leader was the messiah. So, how do these sectarians answer the question of regaining God’s good graces? Come out to the desert and be holy and God will return and bless us.

Pharisees: The answer here is that God will again bless the nation when holiness prevails over unholiness among all the chosen people of God.  The goal was similar to the sectarians, but the scope was much greater. To bring in this state of blessedness the Pharisees engaged in what has been called “the politics of holiness.” It involved separation from all unholy things and people, such as gentiles and unworthy individuals, even if they were Jews.  It also meant ceremonial  purity, which came down to following a set of regulations that had been handed down by tradition (see the example of hand washing in Matt. 15:2). The Pharisees were the moral police of the first century. If you “mowed your lawn on a Sunday” (so to speak), they would come knocking on Monday, they would circulate petitions against you; they might even make a citizens confiscation of you lawn mower. But let’s be clear about the goal: it wasn’t just to be mean and self righteous that the Pharisees policed the nation. It was very much a political agenda: if we are pure, God will bless the nation. We will regain power, stature and influence. Maybe the Messiah will also return and usher in the rule of God.

Priestly rulers and temple hierarchy were charged with the supervision of temple rites and sacrifices, but we should not forget that the high priest was also a very important political figure. So much so that the Romans reserved the right to appoint the high priest and kept the official priestly garments under lock and key. This is because in the preceding five centuries the Jewish nation had basically been a vassal state to empires which was ruled internally by the high priest. The he high priest was just as much a political ruler as he was a religious one. In fact, it is probably a mistake for us to think of those two realms (political and religious) as separate in the first century. The high priest was in charge of the nation, we might say, precisely because he was in charge of the temple.  As you might imagine the priestly rulers were the least likely to be critical of the current situation. For one, they were in charge and who wants to rock the boat from the captain’s chair? For another, they served at the beck and call of their imperial overlords. But another thing about the temple hierarchy: they believed that the sacrificial system, which was massive and which enjoyed the participation of people from all over the known world, was in itself winning God’s favor. This what ancient temples did! They maintained God (or the gods) propitious through sacrifices. For the priests and temple functionaries the answer about regaining God’s blessing was: “we’re doing it! What’s the problem?”

And then there was Jesus

As you might expect, Jesus’ position is fairly unique.  Take a look at this important announcement at the beginning of his ministry:

After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. “The time has come,”he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” (Mark 1:15-16)

Here’s an important difference: while Jesus’ contemporaries are working hard (in a variety of ways) to get God back, Jesus is doing nothing of the sort. He is merely announcing that God is returning. The proper response to this return is repentance, but the return does not depend on repentance. It’s just that if God is coming back, well, you might want to get right with him.  The second really important difference in Jesus’ approach is that he was himself God returning. In him God was fulfilling his ancient promises to Israel and restoring his people to their glorious position. So Jesus is ahead of the game. He is not waiting for God, he is not trying to get others to work for his return. How, then, does Jesus’ teaching interface with the other political options of his time? Let’s take a look.

To the Zealots. Although there have been some attempts to paint Jesus as a Zealot this just doesn’t work. Jesus never commended violence as a means to establishing God’s blessing for the nation. When he famously tells peter to put away his sword in the face of the arresting mob that came to crucify him (Matthew 26:52-53), Jesus is telling all his followers for all time that the kingdom of God will not be established by violence.  No doubt his repudiation of violence has something to do with the love of neighbor which features so prominently in his teaching. But another, more practical, reason is simply that neither God nor Jesus have the slightest need to use violence. As Jesus explains it to Peter, his sword does makes no sense. If Jesus wanted to go that direction he would simply use the legions of angels that are at his command and that would be that. But this is not the way God is going to go about building his kingdom.

To the Qumran sectarians. Jesus has in common with the sectarians that he also sets out to build a new “eschatological community” (a group of people who live in the light of God’s return). His choice of 12 disciples is very important here: he is reforming faithful Israel in the midst of unfaithful Israel. But Jesus’ community of disciples is not at war with outsiders, it is not separate, but living in society. Remember how the Qumran sectarians were commanded to hate outsiders? Look at the striking contrast in the teachings of Jesus :

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you (Matthew 5:43-44)

Of course, it doesn’t say anywhere in the Hebrew Scriptures to “hate your enemy”, so Jesus is quoting a contemporary distortion of the “love your neighbor” command. It was being used to mean “and hate your enemy”.  But as Jesus goes on to explain, this is inconsistent. If we are to imitate God, who blesses both good and evil people, then we ought to also love our enemies. Was this teaching targeting the Qumran sectarians specifically? Perhaps. The meaning, though, is clear: fierce sectarianism that treats outsiders like enemies is not an option for disciples of Jesus.

 To the Pharisees. Jesus’ answer to the Pharisees is surprising, radical and it would still be controversial today if we were really listening. In contrast to the “politics of holiness,” Jesus maintains that compassion is greater than holiness. Here’s a key passage for understanding his critique the Pharisee agenda:

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness.

The stinging accusation is that they have paid the most detailed attention to all the written laws and traditions in order to pursue the ideal of a holy nation, but in all of this they have forgotten “the more important matters of the law” (wait! there are more important matters of the law than the laws themselves?!): justice, mercy, faithfulness. This helps to explain so many of the conflicts Jesus had with the Pharisees. It’s more important to heal a man on the Sabbath than to keep the Sabbath rest laws (both biblical and the traditions). Why? Because compassion is more important than holiness. Twice in Matthew’s Gospel Jesus quotes Hosea 6:6 to the Pharisees: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”  Once because they complain of his association with “bad people” (9:16), and once because of their legalism regarding the Sabbath (12:7).

I think this position of Jesus is the one that hits closest to home. Are many Christians today, like the Pharisees, pursuing the “politics of holiness”? Are we trying to clean up the nation so that God will bless it? Have we maybe even confused our own comforts and benefits  with that “holiness” we purport to pursue? Are we trying to impose holiness on others as part of our big picture notion of what is good for our country while at the same time neglecting “the more important matters” of mercy, compassion and justice? Whatever the political positions of a follower of Jesus, faithful Christian politics does not place righteousness, purity or holiness above compassion and mercy.  Sometimes I wonder if being a Christian in the political context just means having a new set of “Christian” opinions to get angry about and to push out on the rest of society. I think that is sadly missing the point. We can’t just have Christian opinions. Those opinions must be held in Christian ways as well, and they must also be informed by the Christian ethic of compassion.

To the priestly rulers: Jesus critiques the corruption of the priests and their lack of compassion as well. The two characters that pass the wounded man in the ditch in the story of the Good Samaritan are a priest and a levite, or a temple functionary. It was not so much, perhaps, that they didn’t want to get involved with a messy situation of a man lying in the ditch. If he looked dead, or possibly dead, they, being the holy people they were, could not go near him an risk ritual contamination.

But Jesus’ impact on the temple goes deeper. His death completely nullified the spiritual value of the temple. The sacrifices that the Jews participated in with great pride, that they believed kept God kindly disposed to them, were all done away with when Jesus died once and for all for the sins of the world. Another thing that came  to an end with the death of Jesus was the combination of political and religious power that the temple embodied. No longer would political leaders play the intermediary between God and his people. The connection between God’s work and political entities was broken. Permanently; irretrievably.  This is why the good news about salvation in Jesus went out to the whole world without regard to political or racial distinctions (remember, it was a religious, political  and ethnic combination that the temple stood for). With the death and resurrection of Jesus God’s power exploded out from Israel into the rest of the world without any political or nationalistic affiliations.

Conclusions

First, for Christians political power is a very relative thing.  Jesus did not triumph by means of politics (if anything it was in the teeth of political power), nor did he use or commend the combination of the gospel or the church with a political institution, party or individual. Just as God’s kingdom does not depend on violence, neither does it depend on any worldly power.  But does this mean that we should not be involved with politics? I don’t see why not. In fact Jesus’ emphasis on compassion pretty much mandates political involvement. Politics is about living together justly and fairly and our political system provides a mechanism for promoting justice and compassion. Why not do it?

But a second point I see coming out of all this is that in the light of Jesus’ teaching it seems like a political agenda for Christians should always be strongly other-centered. Jesus defended the poor and the needy and he also went out of his way to include the ostracized- even people who actually bad. In the same way our politics also ought to be at least others-conscious, if not even others-centered. This is a far cry from some of the politicking we hear today in which it is transparently clear that the self-focus and self-protection have been wrapped up into a Christian sounding set of agendas and are being used as the basis for a bellicose campaign against anyone one who disagrees.

When it comes to making decisions about our society, it’s compassion first, holiness second, self-benefit third.

Some thoughts in the direction of how to apply the Bible to current situations and debates:

1) Let’s not assume that the Bible has all the answers. As scandalous as that might sound, it’s true. Many things are left up to our wisdom, and pretending the Bible answers something that it doesn’t only causes confusion. As a Bible teacher I often have people ask me what the Bible says about all sorts of things. One of my favorite answers is: “nothing.”

2) Sometimes we need to argue based on broad biblical principles. For example, I don’t think Ps. 139:13 “For you created my inmost being;  you knit me together in my mother’s womb” is the best place to go to argue against abortion. More relevant, perhaps, are the Christian values of love, self-sacrifice, and other-centeredness along with the oft (rightly) mentioned concept of the image of God. Related to #1 we suffer from “versification” – the idea that all important truths can be expressed in one verse or another. And if you don’t “have a verse” your claims fall under suspicion.

3) When reasoning from analogy, let’s be clear and honest about the analogues. Does the passage in the Bible to which we are appealing really match the current situation that is under discussion? Often there is no real coherence, but only similar wordings or polemically charged phraseology. Jesus might say, :Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment.” (and yes, that is a contextually sensitive verse quotation :O)

4) We need to have a consistent approach to application. But we often mix and match according to the need of the moment. One thing we take as cultural and not relevant for today (Paul’s apparent views on hair and coverings in 1 Cor. 11:1-13); others we take literally (no tattoos for Christians based on Lev. 19:19). Of course, I’m using “we” loosely here as in the Evangelical community as a whole. Not everyone will embody that specific contradiction, but there are many others like it. The problem is that many of our appeals to Scripture arise from a particular debate and are not holistically oriented. They are just  used to settle and argument or justify or condemn a particular behavior.  In short, they do not arise out of biblical wisdom.

5) I suggest we can learn a lot from Jesus here (surprise surprise!). I believe he models the application of Scripture in a powerful way. Generally, he reasons from principles, not from textual minutia; and his application framework is guided by the root ideas of love of God and neighbor. If you think about it, this informs many of his views. Nor does Jesus feel the need to  offer a quotation to back up every claim he makes, though clearly he honors scripture as the Word of God.

Some might suggest that Jesus is unique in the respect because, being himself God, he can speak “ex cathedra” (with unique authority). As in Matthew 5 where he seems to be rewriting Old Testament laws, saying,  ”You have heard that it was said… but I say to you…” But I don’t think this really works. Jesus presented himself as a model for his disciples and it is probably true, as some scholars have suggested (Craig Keener, Intro to his commentary on Matthew, James Dunn, Remembering Jesus, and others) that the disciples actually got their own biblical interpretation from Jesus. His reversals in the Sermon on the Mount have to do with contemporary misunderstandings and misuses of Scripture, not with new revelations. Although the Apostle Paul does at times delve into textual minutia (sp. in Galatians), much of his application of the Bible is also principle based. His advice about personal relationships is based on the root idea of self-sacrifice which he gets from Jesus’ model on the cross and applies to just about any personal conflict.

6) We should distinguish between what the bible intends to teach and what it teaches by implication (See Ben Whitherington’s Is there a Doctor in the House. Good thoughts throughout). This is huge. On a scale of 1-10, things that are directly taught in the Bible ought to score a 10; implications should be ranked much lower, maybe 5-6. Unfortunately we often get this backwards. The problem with implications is that they are a lot more malleable than exegesis.

Here’s a good example: in context the hymn of Philippians 2:5-11 teaches that believers should imitate Jesus’ humility, but more often than not teaching on this passage focuses on Christological debates, the meaning of Jesus’ self-emptying, how he could do that and still be God, etc., etc. These are not inappropriate, but Paul’s main topic gets neglected. And maybe the recommended humility would help our Christological debates!  I think this is actually a fairly well recognized hermeneutical principle: what is clear is important; what is unclear is… less important.  But it might be helpful to think also in terms of that which is directly taught in the Bible as opposed to that which might be derived from the Bible.

Though I currently enjoy psychology a great deal (as evidenced by the fact that I’m Simon Baker’s no.1 fan), it was not always so. Back in my infamous Bible school daze, which I love to tell juicy stories about, I was very unhappy with the field. I remember quite vividly throwing my Christian Psychology textbook across the room out of sheer frustration. Let me clarify, just so I don’t get on the book lending black list with a marginal notation that reads, “throws books he disagrees with,” that this was the only time I ever threw a book in a fit of exasperation.  Today I am of course much more  mature and would never allow the world of ideas to explode in such a violent manner into the the material world.

So what upset me so much as to produce this explosive singularity? It’s just that I had read yet again (was it the 20th time?) an irritatingly fallacious argument which seemed have been the foundation of the entire course I was taking. When you are young and you are surrounded by messages that you find artificial and unconvincing but which everyone else seems to find perfectly sensible it can be overwhelming.

The argument was something to the effect that while the Bible teaches us about spiritual matters, it does not teach us about psychology. Therefore, Christians must recourse to psychology in order to understand the principles that govern human behavior. In one class our professor presented an example to corroborate this notion: If you were a cabinet maker, he posited, you would not go to the Bible to find out how to make a drawer, would you? Of course not! (silly you) The Bible has nothing to say about carpentry. The Bible is about God, Jesus and being spiritual; not about carpentry. In the same way, the argument went, the Bible does not say anything about psychology and the principles of human behavior. You have to go outside the Bible for that.

In a sense this is true. The Bible is not a behavioral science text book. But the “the Bible does not talk about psychology” approach does not factor in that, unlike psychology and carpentry, psychology and religion share a great deal in common. They both have something to say about behavioral norms, about intense experiences such as guilt and love, about life change, and particularly about the meaning of personal fulfillment and its pursuit. So it’s just a poor argument to present them as distinct in such a simplistic manner.

At that time I felt like a door was being opened though which non-religious, non-biblical norms could be brought in to basic Christian teaching. That’s why I found it so frustrating.

My qualms led me to a set of recorded lectures by John McArthur in which he railed against “christian counseling” as a dangerous and non-biblical practice. He was particularly fond of 1 Peter1:3, which states that “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life”. Thus, why would we need to consult “worldly authorities” on matters of behavior change or emotional healing? Is not change in behavior the specific purview of the Bible itself?  And aren’t the categories already established as repentance, prayer, sin, righteousness, etc. (not “counseling“)? We don’t need no stinkin’ counselors, was the idea.

But McArthur and I made the same mistake. It’s a very common one. It’s the mistake of accepting the categories given by the opposition. The affirmation was made that we had to add psychology to the Bible. To this we reacted with simple negation. But what if the error was more complex? What if psychology can be a useful tool when it is allowed to operate in the context of a commitment to biblical thinking and living? The overly simplistic rejection of anything that appears to challenge “the Bible” which characterizes many of the reactions of conservative Christians is the result of precisely this mistake. We fail to make distinctions, we lump everything together in a paranoid impulse of self-protection, we replace reasonable assessment with guilt by association and sloganeering.

Another related problem which affects many areas of the Christianity and culture divide is what amounts to a negation of the Lordship of Jesus over all things. When new discoveries are made or when new branches of science are formed Christians often react, again, by shutting them out or vilifying them rather than seeing that they are insights into what God has made. The way forward is to assess them in the light of a biblical worldview. Often this results, not in a negation of the ideas or discoveries, but an orientation about their appropriate use.

These days I think of psychology as a kind of wisdom based on observation. There are common patterns to our behaviors and thinking which, when understood, can provide us with great tools for personal relationships and useful insights for helping those who are emotionally burdened. But they will only be useful to us as Christians if we approach them with biblical premises. So if we are to do psychology as Christians there will be a point at which we will tell the discipline, “Ok buddy. That’s as far as you go. You don’t get to come past that line.” Psychology is a tool. Our values, priorities and ethical orientation determine how that tool is used – and for Christians those come from the Bible. Even people who aren’t Christians know that psychology is a tool that can be used for good or for ill. Take child psychology.  What a blessing it can be when it is used to help children grow into balanced, happy adults. But what happens when child psychologists sell out to the dark side and use their wisdom to market products to children? The orientation has changed from helping to manipulating.

It seems to me that the most urgent need in this field, as in many others, is for Christians to provide examples of how the ethical orientation provided by the Bible results in a healthy use of its tools and methods.