Showing posts with label holiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holiness. Show all posts

Friday, March 16, 2018

On handling sacred things

One thing that worries me about being in full-time Christian ministry is the danger of becoming over-familiar with sacred things.  I 'use' the Bible every day.  I pray with and for people as part of my 'job'.  I spend a lot of time reading and thinking about God.  It can all become a bit - comfortable?

Sometimes the tone of conversation is just a bit too jokey, a bit light, betraying a casual disregard which is creeping into my heart.  Sometimes I know the effect I want to have on the congregation, and I am getting better at tweaking what I do to get the result I want - and where, then, is God?  Sometimes - and honestly, I notice this most hanging out with other Christian leaders - we show by the way we talk that at some level we have stopped feeling the awesome weight of glory that there is in the gospel - and it's made worse by the fact that I know that I will still speak, on Sunday from the front of church, as if that weight of glory were real to me.

I don't mean that it's always like that.  I don't mean to imply that we're all hypocrites.  I just want to warn myself: to remind myself, perhaps, of Nadab and Abihu, or of Uzzah.  Holy, holy, holy is the Lord.  Don't forget it.  These are sacred things.  Handle with care.

Monday, April 03, 2017

Be holy

At CCC we reached the end of a little series in Leviticus yesterday with a preach through chapter 19 - one of those chapters which is usefully titled in the NIV "various laws".  To be fair to the editors of the NIV, various laws is what it is: no particular unifying theme, no obvious structure, except that the whole of the chapter stands under the heading in verse 2: "You shall be holy, for I the LORD your God am holy."

This is, if you like, the second movement in Leviticus.  The first movement is all to do with priests and sacrifices.  God is holy - implacably opposed to sin and corruption, irreversibly committed to himself and his goodness.  The people of Israel are unholy.  So that the holy God and the unholy people can live together, particular individuals are claimed by God and made holy, and the tabernacle with its sacrificial apparatus is made holy, so that holy offerings can be made and sin atoned for.  Day after day, and especially year after year on the annual Day of Atonement, the unholiness of the people is dealt with, so that they can keep company with the holy God.

The second movement picks up the holiness language and runs in a seemingly completely different direction with it.  The question is no longer 'how can the unholy people live with a holy God?' - and it's hugely important to notice that shift.  We're now talking about a different question, something along the lines of 'what will this people be like if they are living with a holy God?'  The direction of travel changes.  Before, we were standing with the unholy people, looking in to the centre of the camp where the tabernacle stands, and asking how we could get there; how can the unholy approach the holy?  Now we stand in the tabernacle, and look out at the unholy people, and ask how they (we!) will have to change, since we are keeping company with this holy God.  Before the issue was the corruption of the people, which constantly threatened their relationship with God, and which was dealt with by sacrifice.  Now, the issue is the holiness of God, which not only threatens but overcomes the sinfulness of the people, claiming them in their whole lives for God.  The 'various laws' of Leviticus 19 represent the holiness of the LORD flowing out of the tabernacle and into the worship, relationships, society, work, and world of Israel.

Like Israel, we Christians are constant sinners; unholy to the core.  Whenever we remember that, we are driven back to the heart of our faith: God the Son, Jesus Christ, offering himself as the one sacrifice, made once and for all, to take away our sin.  But also like Israel, we are claimed by God, claimed for holiness - claimed with greater effect, if you like, than Israel ever was, through the out-poured Holy Spirit.  In all of life, we belong to him, stand on his side.  These two things are always true of us: totally sinful (but forgiven!), totally holy (but failing!).

When we gather around word and sacrament, like Israel camped around the tabernacle, we look to the God who, in the gospel, has answered the problem of our sin by atonement, and has given his Holy Spirit so that we might ourselves be holy.  We enjoy holy time, reminded of forgiveness and sanctification, living those things in our worship.  And then the gathering disperses, and we go out to live out the 'various laws', the concrete requirements of God (no doubt somewhat different for us than they were for Levitical Israel) which shape our daily lives in accordance with the gospel we heard on Sunday.  This is a requirement: be holy!  It is also a gift.  This is what it looks like to be privileged to keep company with the holy God.  He works holiness in us.

Monday, March 20, 2017

Holy love and holy fire

Whilst preparing to preach Leviticus 10 at CCC this past Sunday, I found Karl Barth's comments on the holiness of God particularly helpful.  Barth deals with God's attributes - or as he calls them, God's "perfections" - in the latter part of CD II/1.  He divides them into two sections - the perfections of the divine loving and the perfections of the divine freedom, in line with his basic thesis of the first part of II/1 - that God is the one who loves in freedom.  Within each section, pairs of perfections are offered - holiness is paired with grace.  But Barth is clear that these are not the sorts of things that could be played off each other.  He really believes in the doctrine of divine simplicity; in the end, all the myriad perfections of God are really one.  They are who God is.

So anyway, holiness.

God's love is holy, meaning that "it is characterised by the fact that God, as He seeks and creates fellowship, is always the Lord."  God does not give himself away in his love, he does not make himself subject to the people with whom he seeks and creates fellowship.  He is always God in this relationship.  And what that means is that "He condemns, excludes and annihilates all contradiction and resistance to" his love.  In his genuine love, he is genuinely Lord.  The logic of pairing grace and holiness, then, is that they both "point to the transcendence of God over all that is not Himself."  In both grace and holiness, God is the Lord.

And grace and holiness must be mentioned side by side.  It seems like they are contradictory: "To say grace is to say the forgiveness of sins; to say holiness, judgment upon sins."  But in fact they go together.  "That God is gracious does not mean that He surrenders Himself to the one to whom He is gracious.  He neither compromises with his resistance, nor ignores it, still less calls it good."  In fact, it is only as he draws near in grace that God's holiness is shown and made known.  Holiness in the abstract, which is not the holiness of God's opposition to sin in the very act of his gracious drawing near, is not the holiness the Bible describes.  "Therefore, the one to whom He is gracious comes to experience God's opposition to him."  When God creates fellowship with sinful human beings, they necessarily come to experience his opposition to them as sinners, even as (and only as) they come to see his grace in forgiving sin and creating that fellowship.

A brief aside on what this means for our understanding of Law and Gospel - "In Scripture we do not find the Law alongside the Gospel, but in the Gospel, and therefore the holiness of God is not side by side with but in His grace, and His wrath is not separate from but in His love."

"The holiness of God consists in the unity of His judgment with His grace.  God is holy because His grace judges and His judgment is gracious."  Barth adds, not without reason, "In this sense Jesus Christ Himself is the Holy One of God."  Where do we really see God's holiness?  Isn't it at the cross of Christ, where God judges sin and sinful humanity, and in judging overcomes sinful humanity and makes it fit for fellowship with him?

In Leviticus 10, God's desire to have fellowship with his people is threatened by the carelessness of his priests, who imagine that they can approach God casually, perhaps thinking that the newly en-tabernacled God is tamed and at their beck-and-call.  If this line of thought were followed through, fellowship between God and Israel would be impossible.  God will and must be himself; he will and must be Lord in the fellowship which he creates with Israel.  Therefore, Nadab and Abihu must die.  But this is not opposite to grace.  It is grace.  It is God in his grace creating, maintaining, and defending his fellowship with sinful Israel.

And of course it points forward.  If sinful humanity is to have fellowship with God, the fire of God's holiness must burn away our sinfulness; the fire of his love must oppose and overcome everything in us which is unlovely.  And where did the fire of God's love and holiness burn the brightest, consuming the one acceptable sacrifice?

Friday, October 21, 2016

Galatians: a hard question

Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith?

Paul doesn't seem to think that this is a hard question.  He obviously expects the Galatians to be aware at once that the Spirit came upon them as they heard and believed the good news about Jesus.  It's foundational to his argument, not only that this was the case in the past, but that it continues to be the case in the present - does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law or by hearing with faith?  He clearly expects that the Galatians will be able to give a straightforward and unequivocal answer: the Spirit is communicated to us, and works powerfully amongst us, as we hear and believe the message.

What do we do when the answer to that question no longer seems obvious?

If Paul hasn't massively misjudged the Galatian Christians - if they are in fact able to provide the answers which he expects to these questions - then it becomes baffling that they would be looking to work out their day to day godliness by way of the law.  And indeed, Paul seems pretty baffled and perplexed throughout the letter.  Obviously they don't see the law keeping which they are considering adopting as contrary to faith, and don't see clearly as Paul does that working out your holiness by the route of law is incompatible with reliance on the Spirit.  But at least they know, or should know, that it is the Spirit, received as they've heard and believed the gospel, who has provided the energy of their holiness thus far.

What if we're not even sure of that?

It seems pretty clear that spiritual experience is not an optional extra in the Christian life for Paul.  If you can't testify that you received the Spirit when you believed, and that the same Spirit continues to be poured out in your church community as you gather around the gospel with faith, then of course you will start to look around for another way to power the holiness engine.  But the engine of genuine godliness only runs on the Holy Spirit.  If you pour your own efforts into that fuel tank, whether shaped by the law of Moses or any other scheme, it will break down your Christian life, as surely as filling my diesel car with unleaded will lead to going nowhere fast.  It is the Spirit or nothing.

At this point, it's easy to get caught in sort of meta-law.  I can't get holy by my own efforts, I need the Spirit - now, what technique or discipline can I follow that will ensure that I experience the Spirit's power?  How do I do it?  How do I do it?  Bang, you're keeping the law, you're holiness engine blows up.

I can only think that the answer is, at least in part, waiting.  We have a hope of righteousness - certain, because grounded in Christ, but only very uncertainly worked out in our experience.  Wait for it - that active waiting which involves prayer and faith and watching for God's work.

Friday, October 14, 2016

Day to day godliness

The tragic irony in the book of Galatians is that those who are encouraging the new Christians to shore up their righteousness and their status as God's children by getting circumcised are actually directing them away from the only source of holiness.

In Galatians 6, the apostle Paul launches a last sally against these people, whom he regards as agitators.  They are not genuine, he says; their concern is not real godliness, but just fleshly appearances and the avoidance of persecution.  They do not keep the law themselves.  (They perhaps did not consider themselves obligated to keep the whole law, but Paul sees the logic of their position: if you are making your righteousness dependent on things you've done, you'd better make sure you've done all the right things!)  Paul has no interest in such a position.  The cross of Christ means the death of that fleshly way of doing things.  Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision count for anything, but only a new creation.

The point, I think, is that trying to seek righteousness by fleshly methods - by which Paul means anything that is driven by human effort or works, although obviously circumcision is a very literally 'fleshly' example! - is futile because the fundamental tendencies of the flesh are towards sin. Trying to get righteous using tools which are inherently biased against righteousness is pretty foolish.  The cross of Jesus puts an end to it; he has done everything necessary, and we must trust in him.

But it seems that the question in Galatians is mainly about lived experience.  How does the righteousness we're given by faith in Christ live its way out in daily experience?  Surely at this point human effort has to come in?

Fundamentally the answer is no.  Not that there isn't hard work involved, but it flows from the same Spirit who began the new creation in us.  Since the Spirit gave us life, let's live in a way shaped and directed by the Spirit.  And how is that Spirit given and received?  Through the preaching and believing of the message of Christ.

So anything that takes us away from hearing and believing the message that Jesus alone is our righteousness also takes us away from the engine that drives practical, day to day godliness.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Sanctus

The concept of holiness is all about the existence of boundaries, and the enforcement of those boundaries.  Leviticus is perhaps the book of the Bible which most clearly illustrates this.  The Tabernacle set up, with its Most Holy and Holy Places, symbolises the fact that God is separate.  The Priestly system reinforces this.  At the same time, the Levitical legislation separates Israel as a people from those around them, and creates and enforces a number of boundaries within the people, between clean and unclean.

There appear to be three main boundaries: firstly the boundary between God and not-God, or the Divine and the created - this boundary is implicit in Leviticus, and brought to the fore in the Deuteronomic and prophetic denunciation of idolatry; secondly, the boundary between Righteous and unrighteous - this is really the same thing, but viewed from the perspective of fallen humanity, and therefore if you like ethically rather than ontologically; and thirdly, the boundary between the dedicated and the ordinary - this can be positive (a thing is positively set apart for God and therefore not for ordinary use) or very negative (as in the judgement on the peoples of Canaan, in which some peoples are found to be so corrupt that they are to be devoted wholly to the Lord by destruction rather than treated as 'ordinary' enemies of Israel and Israel's God).  This third notion of holiness - instrumental holiness, if you like - runs through Old and New Testaments, but isn't what I'm talking about here.  I have in mind the distinction between God and creature, and between Righteous and unrighteous.

When we say that God is Holy, we mean both that he is inherently the reality denoted by these boundaries - he is God and not creature, he is righteous and not unrighteous - and at the same time that he is the active enforcer of these boundaries - he will be God and not creature, he will be righteous and not unrighteous.  Tied up with this latter is the idea that God will be seen to be God, and the Righteous One.  He will vindicate himself by enforcing these boundaries.

That is why an encounter with God in his holiness is a terrifying thing.  Think Isaiah before the altar.  As the Seraphim sing out 'Holy, Holy, Holy', he can only respond with 'Woe is me!  For I am lost!'  The fear is not unjustified - to come before the Holy One in an unworthy manner is death.  This fear is also the reaction to Jesus amongst those who understand who he is. The God who will be God over against his creature, and who will maintain and display his righteousness over against sinners - this Holy God, the God we encounter in Christ - he is to be feared.  God's holiness seems to demand separation.

And yet...

Throughout Isaiah's prophecy, God is 'the Holy One of Israel'.  As the Holy One he is, God binds himself to unrighteous Israel.  In just the same way, as the Holy One he is, God binds himself to his fallen creation.  He will be Holy in our midst, not Holy without us.

Where is the logic?

In John 17, Jesus declares that he sanctifies himself - sets himself apart as Holy - so that his people might be sanctified.  He enforces the boundary between God and creature, and between Righteous and unrighteous, by bringing them into the closest connection and yet being consistently God and consistently Righteous.  I think it would be fair to say that at the cross he is the boundary.  His existence is the Holiness of God, God in his active Holiness maintaining his right over against his rebellious creation.

It is just like Leviticus said it would be.  Why build this tent to keep God apart from the sinful people?  It was so that he could go with them!  The boundary is enforced because without it God cannot be with his people.  God maintains himself over against us so that he can confront us and relate to us.

God's Holiness in Christ should make us first fearful, and then thankful.