Does God do all things solely for love? Is it wrong to confront a non-Christian with the Law?

Should Christians angrily say others aren’t saying enough about God’s love? Did Christ die for love-as-ultimate-virtue?

And are some who say such things guilty — as all Christians are, to some extent! — of salvaging Scripture in favor of a spiritual System?

That seems the main question , underlying all the others, and the subject of ongoing discussion after last week’s column on Speculative Faith, Refuting universalism slanders of C.S. Lewis, part one.

Hello again, Derek — I will try to give some rebuttals and thoughts below.

Yet first, I must also note [...] that for a guy who talks a lot about God’s love, I don’t see a whole lot of that directed toward Christians who also read and seek understanding from the verses that do, indeed, say that the Lord is holy and just and indeed does all things to glorify Himself. Shouldn’t those who are pushing more of God’s “love” show that as much as talk about it?

Secondly, I shan’t try much to defend Todd Friel. He can be annoying. But so can a lot of Christians in this wild thing we call the Church. In the past several months I’ve had in-depth discussions with professing Christians who

a) lied about C.S. Lewis and Narnia,
b) insisted that “turn the other cheek” means letting a battered wife suffer and only pray for God to make the abuser repent,
c) lied about them Calvinists, saying they believed doctrines of demons, blah blah blah (whether you like TULIP or not, that’s just more slander — and yes this was the same guy who promoted letter a).

And yet all of them just might be saved anyway, if they adhere to the essentials of the Gospel. No one should “joke” otherwise just because we happen to disagree with them personally, or even if they still have active addictions or sins (such as to reactionary, System-based conspiracy theories) that are ultimately the Spirit’s job to rout out.

So let’s move past My Guys versus Your Guys, or what-have-you, and might we also move past the argument-from-outrage? You used that a lot in your response, but it’s ineffective against anyone who hasn’t already been persuaded by better means to believe as you do. I could use argument-from-outrage to “prove” anything: man didn’t land on the Moon, God isn’t real at all, it’s “unloving” for God to send anyone to Hell for any duration with or without some “second chance,” etc.

Instead, therefore, I’ll just keep asking you: have you been reading the Bible in a way that respects its authors and Author? Or have you — most Christians do, and I know I have, so there’s no greater shame in it! — read it to salvage for parts for other stories, or else spiritual Systems?

[...]

[W]hat you believe and or I believe and whether it Sounds Sensible is irrelevant here. The fact is that you haven’t attempted to prove your beliefs with Scripture and have wrongly accused me of elevating one Biblical truth over another or trying to find some Secret Knowledge. And yet your continual rejection of the idea that God to this day maintains righteous wrath against the unrighteous — offering a System supposedly supra Romans — is itself elevating one truth, in a System, above others.

A few other issues: yes, I’ve often heard the whole “you’re like the Pharisees” angle. Please do some checking into Scriptures such as Mark 7 and find the real reason Jesus couldn’t get through to the Pharisees. The bad ones didn’t give one crap about the real God’s honor, but hijacked God’s real Law and even made up their own in place of it. The Pharisees were all Law and no love, and that was their problem is the common view only because of repetition and propaganda, but doesn’t match Scripture.

I shan’t belabor that point here, though, only point you to God’s Law and Jesus’ Love at my nonfiction site if you sincerely wish to be challenged by an opposing view that actually shows that God’s real love is far greater than you’d say.

(Excerpt from a lengthy rebuttal comment on Feb. 8 on Speculative Faith. Read the rest of it.)

Continued from part 1: a review, with careful questions, of Sarah Young’s bestselling Jesus Calling.

Real promises: weakened, ignored or denied

“My writings must be consistent with [the Bible’s] unchanging standard.” I’m not sure if Young understands what a vital goal that is. Back in Old Testament days they used to stone men who “prophesied” something God didn’t say. Now some believe the gift of prophecy Paul discussed with the Corinthians is identical — and that is a related issue, but Young does not even try to prove her “listening” to God is Biblical. She simply assumes it is, then starts, and doesn’t even explain how it is that God’s words to her will also apply to readers; I’m confused!

Of course, if God had promised He would communicate more with His people using impressions during quiet times, I wouldn’t be criticizing this. However, He never promised He would.

Yes, of course He could do this. But the fact that God could do many things is not proof that He has or will. Even a VeggieTales episode portrayed this well: God could turn Larry the Cucumber into a chicken, but as Bob the Tomato reminded Larry, God only does what He wants to do. Scripture tells us how He has revealed what He wants us to know about Him: Scripture alone.

Even if God had chosen to reveal new things to “listeners” today, it must be consistent with His previous revelation. Otherwise He is a liar, and not the loving, truthful God He promised He is.

But despite giving credit to Scripture alone as being inspired, Jesus Calling’s author treats the precious, revealed Scripture in a very casual and cavalier fashion, frequently throughout the devotions. Her partial quoting of verses, often mixed with her own opinions of what Jesus was telling her that particular day, bypasses the context of each passage, and the whole Bible itself.

The first woeful result: this weakens the power of Scripture’s promises. For example, Jeremiah 29:11 is a wonderful proof of how God promised to remember the Jews even during their exile (which He Himself had promised and carried out because of their disobedience). But Young quotes only that verse, apart from context, apart from the glorious encouragement that God not only made this promise to them, but fulfilled it. She makes the “promise” not only narrowly personal but pathetic. The only reason we know God will do the same for us — which is promised more directly in other Scriptures — is because He has a track record, a history.

It’s typical of evangelicals to repeat God’s promises without their contexts, which actually would render them more powerful and encouraging. Why quote only partially? We treat no other book or writer like this. Is it more loving to Jesus to listen only to parts of His more-sure promises? How would He feel about any of us salvaging His words from the page, or our own memories — anyone steeped in evangelical culture for years could do this — for our own goals, and not His?

Second, Young’s partial quotes of Scripture phrases frequently end up ignoring what God has already and explicitly said. At random (that’s another wrong way of reading any book, including the Bible!) I flipped to Young’s personal-turned-meant-for-others entry for June 18:

You are my beloved child. I chose you before the foundation of the world, to walk with Me along paths designed uniquely for you. Concentrate on keeping in step with Me, instead of trying to anticipate My plans for you. If you trust that My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, you can relax and enjoy the present moment.

Is this all just a pack of lies? No. But has Jesus really said this, in that order? Also no. Young italicizes the “I chose you …” to indicate its Biblical origin and cites the reference, along with others. But she ignores the fact that Paul was writing (Ephesians 1: 3-10) about a Christian’s salvation from spiritual death thanks to Christ’s death, redemption of us and resurrection: the Gospel! Instead she misappropriates this phrase as if it’s only about a Gospel result: following “paths designed uniquely for you.” This both weakens the actual promise and ignores the core truth: that only through the Gospel of Christ’s grace and forgiveness of our sins do we have any hope of staying on His paths for us. Because of this ignoring what God has truly said, whether intentional or simply careless, Young’s pep talk is neither loving nor encouraging. Despite her intentions, it becomes a lie by omission and a “unique path” that isn’t so unique as legalistic.

That leads to a third and last tragic result of Young’s attempts to speak on Jesus’ behalf: Jesus Calling implicitly denies the Gospel. This is perhaps the worst lie of omission in the book: in 365 devotions, Young never finds time to emphasize how Jesus came to Earth to fulfill the Law and die to save from sins. He came not just to show a better way to live or give us His special Peace and Presence that help in our troubles — any self-help speaker could do that. Instead Jesus showed the more amazing love: He died for His people’s sins to reconcile them and His creation to God the Father.

Any book that bypasses that — as if expecting someone else to take care of that tangential, trivial part of the Bible — does not help point people to the true-life Jesus. This “Jesus” ends up being only a solution for personal problems and a balm for one’s soul during quiet times. He’s not the actual Savior Who saves us not just from our little failings and imperfections, but from our initial hatred of God, and does all things for God’s glory.

Any professing Christian book ignoring that is not offering improved love, or bonus-feature love, but no real love.

Relationship through truth

My goal is not to be a mean “watch-blogger” type, or to act as though any imaginative portrayal of Jesus or creative work is an assault on the truth of Scripture’s sufficiency. As a fiction author myself, I’ve written “dialogue” for Jesus, and even imagined what He would say to a man who somehow visited the New Earth before he died! But all artistic endeavors, all imaginings of what Jesus would say or do in a particular situation, must be grounded in God’s actual Word. And is it really loving, both to the real Jesus and to our Christian brothers and sisters, to act as though we have managed to reach some spiritual plateau and received new words from Him?

Let us say I come home today after work and reunited with my loving wife. Then she begins telling me about her day, what thoughts she’s had, what goals she’s accomplished, anything she has done or hopes to do. What if I nodded politely, telling her (and others later) how much I appreciate what she says — but then go off by myself, in a quiet room, and wrote down what I thought she would say to me, even while using half-remembered phrases she did say?

This approaches too close to some of the rhetoric I have heard from those who say they want “relationship” but don’t need to worry about all that truth-and-doctrine stuff. I just want to know the real Jesus, they say, and all this theology and learning facts gets in the way.

Fortunately, Young does not say that. But she also never reminds us that true love for a person does not come apart from careful, grace-based, intentional listening to what he actually said. One can memorize facts about a figure without loving him or being in a close relationship, but one cannot love a person apart from caring and loving what he has said about what he is like.

Objection: But I’ve been in so many churches where everyone is all about dry facts and figures about Jesus. What I really need is rest in Him and have His peace, not just more things to do and truths to know about Him, “doctrine” without love. Why are you picking on this book?

Yet any professed “doctrines” about Jesus also become lies by omission, if separated from love for others in Christ — the same love the Father showed us by sending Him to redeem us.

Therefore, I would simply ask: how does correcting for lies-by-omission with more of the same help fix the problem? Jesus does promise rest, absolutely (as in Matt. 11:28). But the best rest we can receive in Him is because He has forgiven us — not just for stressing out or failing to believe His promises to help guide us, but from our rebellion against God Himself.

That is a greater story, and a far greater love, for the actual Jesus Christ.

Christians shouldn’t oppose creative re-presenting of His truth, either in fiction or nonfiction, including devotional books. But we must love the real Jesus. And He calls us to truth, and better honor His precious Word — the same Word that Peter said is “more sure” (2 Peter 1:16-20) even than Peter’s incredible experience on a mountaintop.

This week won’t bring longer, original columns to YeHaveHeard. I’m preparing for the American Christian Fiction Writers’ conference this weekend, which involves balancing several tasks:

• Trying to get actual sleep, and not lie awake thinking about Projects.
• Keeping up with two blogs, one for fiction and mostly taken care of by other writers, the other nonfiction-based.
• Keeping up with my day job as community journalist (these are not necessarily listed in order of priority!).
• Packing up actual, physical supplies for my pending trip: clothes, books, electronic chargers, papers, more books, etc.
• Revising a blurb and longer synopsis for my fiction work in progress.
• Anticipating meeting well-known authors, and fellow writers in “speculative” genres, and wondering how we’ll all get together.
• Praying to maintain a Biblical balance between humility and Godward ambition.

Meanwhile, fellow fiction-writer and blogger on Speculative Faith, Rebecca Miller, has been switching between fiction and nonfiction topics on her site, A Christian Worldview of Fiction. Recently she overviewed the very real, and frankly irrefutable, differences between Christian and Mormon understandings of vital doctrines, especially who Jesus Christ is.

It seems that while many people are hastening to say they love Jesus and don’t want to be labeled “Christians,” Mormons are chasing after the “Christian” label. We’re not that different from you evangelicals! I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.

Rebecca summarizes Mormons’ teachings about God and Jesus and things, presenting their quotes for comparison. Then she notes:

Need I go on? There is more—much, much more. But here’s the point. When a Christian listens to what Glenn Beck says about his faith, it’s easy to be confused. Here’s what one pastor said about Beck:

I have listened and watched very carefully regarding clues to Glenn’s spiritual condition. I have interviewed several people who have been with him and have talked very specifically with him regarding his own personal salvation. Glenn has said unequivocally that that he relies on the atonement of Jesus on the cross for forgiveness for his sins, and those are almost the exact words. Few people use the term atonement. Glenn did.

I’m sure he did. The problem is, when he uses the word atonement, he doesn’t mean the same thing a Christian does any more than when he says Jesus Christ.

Perhaps the ensuing comments are most interesting, from Christians to be sure (including a professing former Mormon), but also from a man who, judging from his defense of Mormonism, seems to adhere to their beliefs. This commentator, named Seth, said that such claims about Mormonism’s differences are grounded in the (supposedly false) notion that one can be a Christian and not believe in salvation by grace alone.

Which seems to me to be rather sketchy on your part. It is quite obvious from the New Testament that Jesus required baptism at least, no matter how you are reading what Paul later said.

And given the work being done by Protestant scholars on the “New Perspective on Paul” – I think your biblical basis for declaring grace-alone is somewhat suspect as well.

I wonder what N.T. Wright would think if he knew his “new perspective” work was being used by Mormons to defend their views. Many maintain Wright’s ideas undermine the truth that our righteousness is Jesus alone, not our own works we offer Him.

Anyway, my replies are reproduced below, though it’s well worth heading over to A Christian Worldview of Fiction for the rest.

Seth, it doesn’t seem like you’re providing much direct Biblical support to back up your points. So far it’s not adding much to the discussion — nor does it seem to respect the words of Jesus, Who never made baptism a condition for salvation (?); or even the words of Joseph Smith, who couldn’t have been clearer when he started Mormonism that it was in opposition to Biblical Christianity.

[Referring to Rebecca's earlier summary of Christian essential beliefs:] Numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4 are all tenants of Mormon doctrine and things we would have no disagreement with.

Number 1 posits that God, Christ and the Holy Spirit are all One and always existed. This is contrary to Mormonism, whose tenet is that Jesus is the brother of Lucifer, and as a human He is the result of physical union between God the Father and Mary (one of who-knows-how-many unions that have taken place in parallel universes). God is not eternal; He was once a man in a world like ours, and has a “Mrs. God,” and they birth spirit children.

Number 2 directly contradicts the Mormon notion that Jesus saves all the way, then people add works. This steals glory from God and taking it for ourselves, and detracting from His revealed glory and the horror of any sin in His sight.

That’s enough for now. I hope you will consider these, and not just wait for an emotional signal that this is true, but search the Scriptures.

#5 sets the uniquely Protestant notion of “grace-alone” as a requirement for being considered “Christian.”

Which seems to me to be rather sketchy on your part. It is quite obvious from the New Testament that Jesus required baptism at least, no matter how you are reading what Paul later said.

Please show from a Biblical text when Jesus said baptism was required for salvation, and not merely a sacrament that (like works) confirms one’s new life.

And given the work being done by Protestant scholars on the “New Perspective on Paul” – I think your biblical basis for declaring grace-alone is somewhat suspect as well.

Please also show from Scripture that the “old perspective” on Paul wasn’t Biblical.

Another point worth exploring is why Paul took the time to admonish the Galatians so severely if they actually were pretty close to the truth that once they were saved, they could take off with their own works and not worry so much about grace alone.

[...]

[I]f we want to move forward with this discussion, I wonder if perhaps we might focus on what Scripture says, and not necessarily whether a belief system has Internal Consistency.Hyper-Calvinism has Internal Consistency, but it’s not Biblical; and Mormonism may have Internal Consistency, but also be inconsistent with Scripture.

Therefore, I suggest that we test these things with Scripture and see if they are so. Game for that? It might be a more interesting discussion for certain, rather than some of the more-heated rhetoric on whatever that other blog is.

(For the record: some evangelicals seem confused about whether to work with Mormons, such as Glenn Beck, politically. Based on Scriptures such as Romans 13, I believe Christians can ally with those of other religions on political and even moral issues, but Christians should avoid giving the connotation that they and Mormons worship the same God or believe in the same Jesus and Gospel. So it seems Becky and myself share a similar view.)

My questions above, about if Jesus said baptism was a requirement for salvation or why Paul admonished the Galatians, seems a good place to start. …

He still hasn’t gotten back to me about when “Jesus required baptism” for salvation. Perhaps someone can explain the source of this claim?

A book that claims to be about restoring “the supremacy of Jesus Christ” in Christians’ lives — that sounds pretty good, right?

But I suppose that depends on whether one’s version of Jesus is based on truth — not just one’s favorite truths about Him, but the entire Biblical picture. And according to Mike Duran, who recently read and today reviewed Jesus Manifesto by Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola, this book just doesn’t present all the words about the Word. Is this lying by omission, simple naïveté (assuming Christians have only one set of problems), or is there “a fresh alternative — a third way” reason?

Subtitled “It’s time to restore the supremacy of Jesus Christ,” the authors begin with a series of sweeping, but predictable, generalizations about the grim state of affairs: “The world likes Jesus; they just don’t like the church. But increasingly, the church likes the church, yet it doesn’t like Jesus” (pg. xvi), and “If the church does not reorient and become Christological at its core, any steps taken will be backwards” (pg. xiv). This kind of “bash the church” rhetoric is at the heart of the postmodern, post-evangelical movement, and propels much of what Sweet and Viola unpack. Apparently, for many “emergent” Christians, problems with the church are a license to reconfigure the gospel. And, ultimately, Jesus Manifesto seems determined to do just that.

[. . .]

The “hard sayings” of Christ about hell, damnation, and judgment are nowhere to be found in this book (unless intimated toward religious elites). As such, the Jesus of Jesus Manifesto is the friend of sinners NOT the “judge of the living and the dead” (Acts 10:42). The Jesus of Jesus Manifesto comes to bring unity NOT “division” (Lk. 12:49-57). The Jesus of Jesus Manifesto carries an olive branch NOT a “sword” (Matt. 10:34). The Jesus of Jesus Manifesto ushers souls to heaven NOT “eternal punishment” (Matthew 25:32,46; see also Matthew 13:41-43, 49). It is this ecumenical evasiveness that spoils Jesus Manifesto. The Bible teaches that the Good Shepherd will one day return with “the armies of heaven… to strike the nations” (Rev. 19: 11-16), that the cross of Christ “offends” people (Gal. 5:11) and its message is “foolishness to those who are perishing” (I Cor. 1:18). Sadly, it is this “offense” that Sweet and Viola jettison in favor of uncritical inclusion.

Read Duran’s complete Jesus Manifesto review here.

And read Bob Kauflin’s quote of Kevin DeYoung here: “I wouldn’t want people to diss my wife, so why should I tolerate people dissing the bride of Christ?” ¹

I am still wondering why it is that Sweet, Viola and similar authors are unaware of their own insular environment. It’s enough to make homeschoolers cringe² — an apparent new Christian “bubble,” from which those on the inside are quite happy and comfortable with themselves, their friends and movements and jargon, but seemingly ignorant that those “outside” the Inner Ring are finding even better and more Biblical solutions to problems.

Do Sweet and Viola truly not know that thousands of Christians are already striving to recognize Jesus’ supremacy, but in the way that Jesus Himself said He wants, and not by going off to come up with a spiritual System that corrects for only one’s preferred set of perceived problems?

Maybe they know and are just kind of blind to it (this can happen to the best of us). Or maybe they’re seriously stuck in this parallel world. Or maybe there is a “third way” to explain this too, but I’m trying to be optimistic.

Though many people this week are writing about how Jesus died, what His wounds were like and more, I’d like to try something different.

Even in my last column I thought about doing something similar. “What might His death have been like?” was how it ended. Then I planned to move onto this idea, in a third column.

But most people already know how He died. Asphyxiation from the crucifixion added to the already tortuous loss of blood from the thorns piercing His head, and the scourging of His back. “Five bleeding wounds He bears,” says the hymn: two in His hands, two in His feet, and the one in His side where the soldier stabbed His dead body with a spear, to see if He was dead.

Christians recall these truths easily when they want to remember the physical nature of what He suffered. The brighter among us keep the documentation mentally stored for when the myth comes up that Jesus didn’t really die. And perhaps it’s the brightest among us who recall that despite the physical suffering Jesus endured, it was nothing compared to what He suffered when the Father turned His face away from His Son out of disgust for the sin Christ took on Himself.¹

Details of His death are well-known.

What we don’t consider as often is how He might have risen.

Last night my wife and I finished viewing The Gospel of John. This superbly done film did not show the actual resurrection of Christ. And over my decades of exposure to the Christian subculture, I don’t remember any adaptation of the account, life-action, animated or whatever, that dared to show Jesus walking out of the tomb. (Tomorrow we’re helping with a children’s Sunday school class; it’s even hard to find coloring-book pages showing His resurrection.)

Scripture itself doesn’t tell us exactly what happened. Evidently the Holy Spirit didn’t think it necessary to reveal such details to the Gospel writers. Does that mean we shouldn’t speculate?

I hope not, because — based on what we learn later about Jesus’ new body — I’m about to try.

Inside the tomb

A damp blackness is stifling; nothing can be seen. It’s much worse than a cave, partly because one could almost sense the walls so close, and the rough-hewn ceiling hanging low. A stench fills the chamber, the odor of death. For about two days² the mutilated body has lain here, as still as the rock.

Barely anything can be heard from outside the heavy stone rolled before the cavity’s tiny entrance. But if one could go outside, one might see the gardenlike area beyond. At least two Roman soldiers are stationed at the entrance, with an official government seal upon the stone.

Was dawn already approaching? I’d like to think it wasn’t. All is dark outside, still and normal —

Then comes the tremor. It starts low in the earth, making the guards snap to attention.

Inside, the stone walls shake. Maybe a pebble or two falls from the ceiling. Quaking fiercely, the ground rumbles even louder. Will the cave fall in? No — but then maybe — I like to think there was a glow. What sort of supernatural light might have accompanied this transformation?

Under the layers of thick, perhaps dirty and bloodstained fabric, it begins.

Resurrection.

Energy from God — Christ Himself — courses through His dead body. Instantly cellular activity begins. Life returns. The revitalized heart starts to pump, slowly at first, then faster, faster!

Sparkling power flows through every artery and vein, repairing breaks, drawing together the torn flesh in His back. Wounds there disappear almost instantly, as if they had never existed. The same is true for the horribly deep scratches in His head. They vanish as if time itself is reversed. What about the metal bits from the whip that may have lodged in His back, or any shrapnel from the cruel thorns that may have broken off into his scalp? Did they simply fall out into the grave cloths? Or did they crumble into nothingness, vanishing as if vaporized?

And as for the five other, formerly bleeding wounds of His …

They will remain. He will keep them as evidence of His sacrifice and also to prove that His body, though new and with supernatural powers, is the exact same body they had seen before.

Tissue mends itself, just beneath His wrists and on His feet. Blood vessels and muscles, already woven back into better-than-perfect health — they could be moved away from the wounds so they will never bleed again. On His hands, the flesh around the holes hardens into new, tougher, impenetrable skin, yet they still show the scars.

On His feet, the nerves, same as all through His new body, are impervious to pain. Yet they still show the scars, on either side where the nails had been.

In His side — perhaps between His underarm and ribcage — the wound from the spear piercing remains. But it will never again bleed or cause pain. Did He know, even as He felt the skin around the wound adjusting itself, that in days He would be showing it to His disciples?

Was His awareness — the spirit He gave up after He breathed His last³ — already reunited with His human body? Or did His awareness return⁴ seconds later? No one can know yet, but perhaps all along He was aware that He had returned, that His body was being rejuvenated, that He had won!

How long did the physical Resurrection take? Several power-charged seconds? Or in an instant?

Did His eyes open, still wrapped in the grave cloths? Or did He keep them closed while He lifted Himself off the stone slab? Did He pass through the cloths as if He were pure spirit — which He definitely was not — or did He, with a mighty shudder like the earthquake, burst out of them?

Death could not hold Him.

Either way, His body is not simply His restored human body. He has triumphed over death and sin, and His new body — a prototype of our future resurrected bodies⁵ (though surely far more powerful) — has amazing, superhuman powers we can only guess about from later descriptions in the Gospels.

So He is out of His grave clothes, and surely wearing some other clothing supernaturally given to Him. Dried blood has disappeared from His glorified skin. His wounds are healed perfectly, His scars visible. Blazing with glory, He stands to His feet and walks through the tomb.

Supernaturally the stone has rolled away. Perhaps by now the earthquake has ceased. The guards have fainted at the sight of the angels.

Into the new dawn of the first Resurrection Sunday, the Son of Man walks, victorious over death and the grave.

(Next: what could He do?)

I wonder if, before they died, they ever felt the flames that blasted through the car.

They died at nearly midnight this past Saturday. Three people, in a vehicle heading east on a two-lane country road, could have been speeding. They crested a hill and plunged down the side, and the driver lost control — veered left — slammed into a tree that tore shuddering through metal — and bodies — and then came the flames.

Two died, the driver and her front passenger. Police told me they didn’t know how the woman in the back survived. Last I heard, she was doing better at the hospital.

Later a police officer showed me photos they took when the pile of shrapnel, once the car, had still been wrapped around the tree. Protruding from the vehicle’s near-center was the charred trunk. You might not think it could be that strong to survive, while two human beings had perished almost instantly. The officer pointed to parts of the blackened debris: one victim was here, and another here, he said. Even police haven’t seen many wrecks like this.

I had been bracing myself for a shocking sight. Perhaps the greatest shock was that it did not seem so shocking at all. All I saw was a steaming mass of metal wreckage.

Here is the crash scene, two days later. Flames had blazed across this tree, the crumpled car and the people inside. Now the crash wreckage is removed. Still remaining are the items strewn over the grassy side. Ash particles mingled with pieces of the car. I saw a bit of burned paper, tiny glass shards, a tangle of wires, a bulb from a headlight.

Someone had already placed artificial flowers and a small religious statuette against the tree. They join the three crosses near another tree some yards away, and another series of crosses I had already seen on this same road, a few miles back.

People have died here. And this is only a common road, not some rare disaster scene.

What killed these people?

The world killed them, a sad, groaning, suffering world of death.

Who were they? I found and wrote about the victims’ names, ages and the cities where they lived. But I don’t know about their lives. They weren’t from around here, so (this may sound very callous) those aspects of the story don’t matter as much to my local newspaper’s readers.

Yet they mattered to God. I hope to Him they were among His own. But even if they weren’t, they mattered to God. Their lives mattered. Their bodies mattered.

Lives and bodies were destroyed that day. They were strangers to me. Still, the truth is horrific.

But for those among His own, their lives and their bodies will return — just as He brought Himself back from death on that strange and glorious Sunday morning.

First He had to die. Sin required it.¹ It was God’s will to crush Him.² This was not God “murdering” Him as if from spite, like some people, even professing Christians, might think. The Son, God Himself, sacrificed His life for the greater joy set before Him ³, part of the eternal plan that had been put in place before the world’s foundation.⁴ It was even directly forecast moments after the first humans’ rebellious sin against God⁵ that brought death, groaning and suffering.

The world killed Him. Yet He even desired to die. And I am sure He felt all of the experience.

(Next: what might His death have been like?)

Contrary to popular myth, among Christians and others, Jesus did not come to trump God’s Law with a new-and-improved presentation of His love. Clearly, Scripture tells us otherwise, and I hope this series has outlined the truth persuasively and with Christ-honoring grace.

Jesus revealed not just God’s love, or just God’s Law, but both. Anything less is not real love.

Part 1 introduced the myth, the forms it can take, and some of the reasons why people may believe it. We also must remember not to overcorrect for an imbalanced “lovey” Jesus.

Part 2 delved into the depths of Jesus’ famous (but apparently not taught enough) truth in Matthew 5, that He did not come to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it. The rest of His Sermon on the Mount shows that He wasn’t simply making the Law easier for people. He reminded them instead of how hard God’s real Law is to obey, and (by proxy) how we need Him to fulfill it.

Part 3 brought one of Jesus’ debates about the Law, with the Pharisees, into focus.

That is where I’ll pick up today, with the series’ final column. This will exegete the rest of Mark 7: 1-13, and see the reasons Jesus gave for His opposition to the Pharisees. Jesus did not defend His disciples for breaking the Law, but said that the Pharisees’ rule wasn’t real Law. And He didn’t debate the Pharisees because they pushed the real Law, but because they didn’t.

And I’ll conclude with the most important thing to learn from these Biblical truths.

2. Did the Pharisees accuse the disciples of violating God’s Law?

Answer: No. They asked why the disciples didn’t obey man-made traditions.

If the Pharisees were honestly confusing the two — God’s Law and their own made-up laws — they didn’t say so here. Jesus didn’t seem to think it was an honest mistake on their part.

3. Did Jesus say the leaders needed to lighten up, love a little more?

Jesus could not make His reasons clearer. If the Pharisees had really asked why Jesus’ disciples weren’t obeying the Old-Testament Law — and the Pharisees’ problem was that they were all about God’s rules and not Jesus’ love — Jesus’ response here makes no sense.

He does not say “you must learn to accept and love others instead of talking about God’s rules.”

Instead, He says, quoting Isaiah 29:13: You are teaching your own rules rather than God’s real rules, and your worship of God is in vain and without heart.

Answer: No, Jesus did not argue from only “you must love people more.” Instead He said they were hypocritically ignoring God’s real Law in favor of their made-up laws.

Many professing Christians¹ claim that Christians who defend God’s Law or holiness, or a plain reading of His Word, are automatically leaning toward hypocrisy and unloving attitudes in the same way the Pharisees did. But if the Pharisees were actually defending God’s real Law, why would Jesus call them hypocrites? He would have to mean they were claiming to adhere to God’s real Law, while actually ignoring it.

4. Was the Pharisees’ main problem only adding their own laws onto the real Law?

Answer: Not at all. And Jesus clearly says the Pharisees were not just naïvely confusing their own religious rules for the real Law. Even worse, they were actively rejecting the real Law and not just ignoring it — they were defying it, and teaching others to do the same.

I love His wording here: “You have a fine way … !” The sarcasm and outrage just blazes forth in His phrasing, with divine authority only He could have.

Again, Jesus doesn’t base His argument on “you must love more,” or even, “you are adding your own rules on top of God’s real Law.” He says “you are rejecting God’s real Law.” Here He cites a specific example: Moses, speaking for God, had commanded that people ought to honor their parents. But instead of following and teaching that part of the Law, the Pharisees had effectively thrown it out in favor of their own rule: you can avoid caring for your parents so long as you claim a Very Spiritual Exemption for your property, i.e., oh, well, this is “God’s money.”

Can you see it here? Jesus was disgusted. With the Pharisees’ very high-sounding, religious and “spiritual” idea about this, they were violating God’s real Law. They were making His word “void … by your tradition that you have handed down.” And that was just a small example, He added.

Conclusion

Many people have different reasons for wanting to make Jesus a dispenser of “love” apart from God’s Law. But such an approach simply isn’t found in Scripture.

The passages here and in part 2 are not isolated cases. For example, in Jesus’ righteous rant against the Pharisees in Matthew 23, He never talks about how they’re all about the real Law and He’s all about “the better way of love” or any of that. He laments and lambastes them because they have “neglected the weightier matters of the law.” What are these? “Justice and mercy and faithfulness.” All are important — and all are what God’s real Law was all about.

Anyone who believes Jesus even came close to opposing or overruling His own Father’s Law with love needs to consider the whole picture that Scripture shows us. Not one time does He play the “good cop” to God’s or His real Law’s “bad cop,” and contradict Himself in that way.

If this really sinks in, it should come as a shock! After all, we have always been taught that Jesus came not to just “make” the Law harder, but to provide a way of salvation.

And that’s true. Any of this emphasis on Jesus’ upholding God’s Law should not simply reinforce someone’s “well I guess we’d best try and obey the Law even harder” reaction! The only reaction this should bring us is gratitude, to Christ, for what He also did to fulfill His own Law.

This is the most important thing to know from busting this myth.

Christ fulfilled God’s real Law by sacrificing Himself as the ultimate atoning sacrifice (or propitiation, 1 John 4:10) for the sins of those who would repent of sins and believe in Him.

Knowing this, and that God’s real Law still applies today, helps us see our need for Christ even more. Instead of only reinforcing the Law and either calling people to obey it by themselves, or just to love each other better, His goal was to die, rise to life, redeem His people with His blood and start His Church. He fulfilled God’s Law so we would trust in Him, not in moral rules.

Thank God for His Law that shows us our need for Him. Thank God for His sacrifice that shows us His love. Thank God for the Bible that shows us both truths in perfect balance.

Does Jesus “trump” God? If God’s Law in the Old Testament was only about following rules, did Jesus come to show “a better way of love”?

Many people seem to think so (see part 1 of this series). For very different reasons — perhaps trying to correct for real-life, sinful legalism in other Christians — they say things like, “Jesus wasn’t about rules; He is about a loving relationship with Him.” And many such things they say.

But it doesn’t take that complicated a reading of Scripture to show otherwise (seen in part 2).

Yet the question remains: if Jesus actually defending the Law and insisted it was still in effect — and maybe worse than some people thought — why then did the Pharisees pick on Him so much? And why did He argue against them? Some people might ask: “Weren’t they the religious leaders who had no love and only the Law?” What was their argument truly about?

In these last two columns of the series, we’ll begin more Biblical exploration of those questions.

Further in

It seems Mark 7: 1-13 is one of the best passages about this.

Here, in one of the clearest arguments with the Pharisees, Jesus did not base His arguments on anything close to “I am not about the Law; I am about ‘love.’” Some professing Christians (or real Christians who aren’t taught well on this topic) may assume that was His goal.

But instead He made three main points:

1. In all their “laws,” the Pharisees had no heart for the real God and worshiping Him.
2. The Pharisees were actually substituting their own made-up laws for the Law.
3. With their made-up religious rules, the Pharisees ended up denying God’s real Law.

Don’t miss the Mark

I think the scene sets itself here. Mark in his gospel has already described the religious leaders’ reactions to Jesus’ teachings and miracles. But when the Pharisees see the disciples violating a religious tradition, this encounter is so far the most clear about the exact nature of their conflict.¹

Did Jesus oppose the Pharisees because they were only about the Law, with no love for people? My suggestion: ask this very question as we read …

This is a fascinating passage. Similar to last week, let’s draw out the points one by one, and ask even more specific questions before reading sections of the story up close:

1. Were the disciples really “defiled,” as in breaking God’s real Law?

The word defiled is crucial here. Some readings of this would hold that the disciples were being very cavalier about the Law of Moses. This assumption would say that somewhere in the Law is something about needing to wash hands exactly this way. And with all the laws in Leviticus and more (which often sound strange to us), that’s an easy assumption to make.

But how does Mark define this use of defiled? He says “that is, unwashed,” and goes on to say:

This understanding of defiled is not according to the Law, but means only “unwashed,” and according to nothing more than the “tradition of the elders.” If they are coming back from the secular marketplace, for example, they have decided it’s their rule to do ritual washing.

Mark goes on to say that according to their religious rituals, they wash all kinds of things, not just to keep them clean physically, but to keep them clean (in their view) spiritually.

But though the Law is detailed, with many odd-sounding commands, it does not say to do that.

Answer: No. This is Pharisee-style “defiled.” God’s real Law doesn’t require this washing.

In next week’s final column, we’ll see how Jesus opposes them, not based on some you-must-lighten-up-and-love rationale, but based on the real Law. Again, here it is important to see: the disciples were not truly defiled according to God’s Law. This “defiled” only means “unwashed,” and only as defined by this Pharisee belief — which itself is never mentioned in the Law.

Next week: did Jesus condemn the Pharisees for being up-tight about God’s real Law? Did He argue that they needed to love people more and stop being so legalistic about the real Law? And did He fault them only for adding laws to the real Law, or actively rejecting it?

Did Jesus come only to teach love and not God’s Law? Is it true to say “Christianity is not about rules, but relationships”? What did Jesus Himself say about it? (Continued from last week …)

What’s the Word?

One very relevant passage to explore ¹ is from Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount.” ² Many wrongly think Jesus only offers better ways to live, or moral encouragements for all who listen. But although His words may sound soft-spoken, the realities are much harsher.

Wow. Let’s be sure we don’t miss the profound truths buried in that paragraph. Nothing than less than an attempt at exegesis (my best, anyway) seems due here …

1. Jesus fulfills, not abolishes, the Law.

Lest anyone think Jesus came to offer anything different from the Law, He directly denied it. “I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them,” He said. I wonder: if I had been Jesus (scary thought), and I had wanted to tell people for sure that the true Law was not dead and gone or unnecessary for anyone in the present day, how would I have communicated this more clearly?

If Jesus actually did abolish the effects of the Law, here He was lying or obscuring the truth.

2. The Law won’t end until the world ends.

In case we missed the point, He makes it even more clear: the Law is still in effect “until all is accomplished.” Not a nano-piece of it will expire until that time.

Might someone think that has already happened — that at some point before now, the Law’s effects have passed as He predicted? No, Jesus’ context makes clear what “all is accomplished” means: the time when “heaven and earth pass away.”

I just looked out my window. Earth is still here, so I presume Heaven is too. He hasn’t yet redeemed, remodeled and combined them (Revelation 21).

Therefore I presume the Law’s iotas and dots are still un-passed.

3. We should not downplay the Law.

These seem like very strong words: those who try to downplay the Law and its truths aren’t just misguided, naïve or doctrinally wrong, but they “will be called least in the kingdom of heaven.”

That just makes me want to wipe my brow and pray I won’t be too cavalier about the Law!

God’s standards are just as holy today as they were back then. Jesus hasn’t lowered the standard; here, He has just made it higher and more strict than ever. If He hadn’t made it clear here and elsewhere that He Himself was the fulfillment of that standard, and died and rose again to prove it, people might still be calling Him a “legalist” today.

4. If we follow the Law’s commandments, we will be called great.

I’d much rather be placed in this group. And why is that? So we can be called “great in the kingdom of heaven.” Christians ought not do as I once thought deep down, that the best and most “spiritual” Christianity is disinterested devotion to religious duties. Rather, I should want to want the best reward He can give — Himself — in the Kingdom when it comes here directly.

5. Want Christ’s Kingdom? Then out-obey the Pharisees.

We might not see Jesus’ impact here without comparing it with a direct-opposite view: a “cheap grace” that assumes we don’t need to consider God’s holiness, only His love.

But here, Jesus doesn’t mention a word about God’s love. He talks about His great love at other times, and it’s absolutely essential to remember that as we seek to know Jesus and all of His character. But here, His focus is His Father’s holiness and the Law. Its standard was in effect then, and remains in effect today for those who don’t believe Him.

6. Christians are not under the Law, because of Christ’s coming and personal faith.

Years later, Christians in the Galatian church were being told opposite ideas of the Law, by very “spiritual” teachers who claimed the Christians were still under its requirements. But Paul wrote:

So Paul makes things even clearer to Christians: they are no longer captive to the Law. But the essential ingredients for the status change are Christ’s coming, what He did, and personal faith that brings forgiveness of sins and adoption as God’s sons.

Next week: if it’s true that Jesus did not oppose the Law, but came squarely on its side, why then was He so often fighting with the Pharisees? Weren’t they all about the Law when He wanted them to understand His grace and love? What do you think?

Is it possible this myth heard ‘round the world is actually increasing in popularity? I wonder if even now it’s dead even with or even past the “Christians aren’t supposed to judge ever” myth?

Perhaps it’s best to leave this little lie alone. After all, it brings so many people together in agreement, doesn’t it? Many Christians want to be loving to their unsaved friends, or “worldly” Christians. Or they may want to correct for their legalistic backgrounds, and make sure they emphasize that God is all about love, not rules. The popular evangelical phrase remains, on a billion church signs: that “Christianity isn’t about rules, it’s about a relationship.”

So they present one side of a truth, to the point of half-truth: Jesus isn’t about the Law.

But that is not what Scripture says. This is clear not only from the epistles written by Paul and other apostles about Jesus, but from the words of Jesus Himself.

“Take a look, it’s in a Book …”

Ye have heard that it was said …

Jesus fought the Pharisees because they were all about the Law, and He was all about love.

AKA: Jesus wasn’t about rules, He was about love and personal relationship with Him.

AKA: “Christianity isn’t about rules, it’s about relationship.”

Figure A:

“The God of the Old Testament is a vengeful God,” says a popular professing Christian during a lecture circuit, named the same as his new book with a catchy, “outrageous” title. “He is all about the Law and following a system of rules. Then along comes Jesus, and His only law is the law of love! He accepts people just the way they are. He breaks down the barriers.” ¹

Figure B:

[After agreeing that boundaries are in the Bible] Jesus is frequently breaking through those boundaries, challenging what the OT purity laws say about dirt and cleanliness, Sabbath and love…which is why Christianity has always had a bit of an iconoclastic streak. Add to this Jesus’ acceptance of the Other, be they of an enemy empire (the Centuriion)², or heterodox (like the many Samaritans who held a different canon and worshiped at a different temple), or outright occult (the blessed Magi who visited the child Christ [. . .]), you see a relaxing of the boundaries and a universalizing of the Old Covenant’s YHWH into a God who brings “peace and glad tidings of great joy to all peoples[.]”

From an acquaintance’s Facebook post

Figure C:

All my religious training was in Sunday school, maybe 25 years ago, and the main thing I remember was that God was always smiting the Pharisees. At least I think it was the Pharisees[. . . .]

My wife, who has had bales of religious training, tells me that this was the Old Testament God, who was very strict, whereas the New Testament God is a genuinely mellow deity, the kind of deity who would never smite anybody or order you to smear goat’s blood on your firstborn son, which is the kind of thing the Old Testament God was always doing.

The otherwise hilarious author and humor columnist Dave Barry, from a 1985 column

What’s the truth in this?

While it is easy to make lovey-dovey Christians (or those who want or claim to be so) into easy villains, I hope to Heaven that Biblical Christians will not overcorrect the opposite way. We’re already needing to deal with overcorrection — from not-loving-enough views of God to a “love”-as-the-only-defining-attribute view of God. Let’s not swing the pendulum back again!

It is so true that Jesus came to Earth to exercise love. No informed Christian would deny this. He healed the sick, taught of His Father’s care for people, lived as a Man, comforted the hurting, and did not fight back when He was persecuted.

He did not specifically deploy punishments, like God the Father. At that point, it wasn’t His goal.

What’s the lie in this?

What Biblical Christians would disagree with is that “love” is so easily understood as simple healing from sickness, or acceptance of all other views, or especially making things easier for people who had suffered under the Old Testament Law for centuries. Rather:

1. Jesus doesn’t just release people from the Law’s burden. He increases it, by reminding us that true violations are in our hearts, not in our deeds! Only He Himself can remove its burden.
2. Jesus does not oppose the Law. He opposes false views of it. He decries the often-willing ignorance of some people, in particular religious hypocrites. Such people refuse to see that the Law pointed to Him as the One Who relieves its burden for those who repent and believe Him.
3. And Jesus did not come to overthrow the unfair, too-hard Law. He came to fulfill it.

(This topic is so incredible, deep and rich that it will take at least three parts of a new series to get through it. Watch for the next part coming Saturday. Meanwhile, a great way to study up on this topic is to re-read the Sermon on the Mount, especially Matthew 5: 17-20, and Jesus’ encounter with the Pharisees in Mark 7: 1-13, and onward. What do you think?)