There’s been much written and discussed in the past few months about antisemitism. On the day I sat down to write this, in the news, there was yet another horrific example played out in a criminal act against a young person in a local school in our area. When we consider how long this has been happening, we want to cry out with Psalm 69, “More in number than the hairs of my head are those who hate me without cause (4)…You who seek God, let your hearts revive. For the Lord hears the needy and does not despise his own people who are prisoners (32b-33).”

Much of what I’ve read in articles recently has been positive in bringing awareness to an age-old evil that still plagues our world. That said, I’ve noticed that lines can get blurred between the State of Israel and Jewish people in some of the more heated debates. I support the State of Israel, and I pray continuously for this current conflict to end and for all the hostages to be returned. Lately, I’ve seen much done or said to Jewish people that are in no way connected to the State. With that in mind, I’d like to talk about antisemitism and use a definition from the Jerusalem Declaration of Antisemitism, which denounces “discrimination, prejudice, hostility, or violence against Jews as Jews (or Jewish institutions as Jewish).”^[1] To illustrate, I’d like to share a story from January 5, 1895, when two Jewish men, whose lives changed history, crossed paths but didn’t meet.^[2]

Austrian journalist Theodor Herzl was a correspondent for Neue Freie Presse in Paris. On that January day, he covered a breaking story of a certain army captain, Alfred Dreyfus, who was convicted of espionage, selling his country’s secrets to France’s enemies. Although Dreyfus maintained his innocence, he was publicly disgraced, defrocked, and exiled. Later, another investigation proved his innocence, and he was brought into the public eye in 1898 by Emile Zola, who wrote an open letter to the government in the newspaper Aurore called “J’accuse” (I accuse).^[3] Eventually, Alfred Dreyfus was reinstated to his position, and all charges brought against him were dropped.

What troubled Theodor Herzl so profoundly wasn’t just the lack of solid proof or the hasty conclusions of the judicial system. It was the onlookers at Dreyfus’s defamation chanting “Death to Jews.” It became clear to him that this wasn’t really about national security. To understand how deeply this moved Herzl, we must remember that for Europeans then, France was the defender of the Rights of Man, guaranteeing freedom from such abuses. And yet, Herzl saw that, once again, the dark forces of antisemitism were pushing the Jewish people out. This event inspired him to begin his life’s work, earning him the name of the father of Zionism.^[4] As in the case of the Dreyfus affair, antisemitism was alive and well before there was a State of Israel. To quote the Jerusalem Declaration of Antisemitism and its 210 scholars, “Criticizing or opposing Zionism as a form of nationalism…Evidence-based criticism of Israel as a state”^[5] is not considered antisemitic. What drove Herzl to find a solution for Jewish people in the ancient land was.

Sadly, as early as Gregory 1st in 600AD,^[6] Christendom was responsible for the persecution of Jewish people. Crusades, forced conversions, inquisitions, pogroms, and ghettos…not to mention marginalization and stereotypes, have circulated throughout our history. Thankfully, there’s been repentance by the Christian community. Vatican II saw the evils of its past conduct and sought reform.^[7] Protestants, in many different ways, also sought to repair the damage done and build a new path forward. One of the ways has been the support for Israel. Still, I fear that there’s been a transference in the collective evangelical non-Jewish mind of the State of Israel and its legal right to existence to our Jewish next-door neighbor who has lived with Jewish jokes and stereotypes his whole life. To take it the next step, I wonder sometimes if our insistence to the right of Israel’s existence as an end times cure in the present for antisemitism, might not in some cases be an indirect or perceived pushing away of the suffering person next to us. What I mean is, if our message to a suffering person is to encourage them to move to a foreign country or to proclaim our support for that same foreign country, have we comforted them as individuals made in the image of God?

I’m reminded of a few critical conversations I’ve had with our friends at Jews for Jesus. The first one is Joshua Turnil, the director of the Paris branch, and the other is Jacques Guggenheim, a Jewish believer, pastor, writer, and artist who, as a child, escaped the Holocaust. Joshua has often said that withholding the gospel from a Jewish person is the worst form of antisemitism. It cuts them off from knowing Jesus. Over the years, I’ve seen his point lived out through well-meaning Christians encouraging Jewish people to make “Aliyah” (immigrate to Israel) and never get around to sharing Jesus. My second example is Jacques Guggenheim, who was taken as a child to Switzerland to live with a Christian family during the war. Although traumatized, what melted his heart was how that family shared their lives, meals, Bible reading, and prayers through their love for Jesus.

In the examples of Joshua^[8] and Jacques, I see a way forward anchored in the gospel. Rather than looking for a solution that includes sending people away, we might consider opening up and sharing our lives with them here and now. If the underlying problem is antisemitism, we, who the gospel has transformed, are well-positioned to show love. We remember how Jesus was discriminated against, shamed, and abused to take away our guilt. He, therefore, can enter into the lives of hurting people through the transformed lives of those of us who are so privileged to be His agents of comfort. If we live like this, we’ll have a place to share our hope. I wonder if this might not be a more powerful arm against antisemitism and other forms of racism. This is especially true in these last days, as we look forward to the day when we’ll all come to the New Jerusalem, where the Lamb is its Temple, and live in the harmony we know we were truly meant to experience.^[9]

Footnotes

^[1] https://jerusalemdeclaration.org/
^[2] https://www.crif.org/fr/actualites/crifalfred-dreyfus-lantisemitisme-de-laffaire-dreyfus-un-point-decisif-pour-le-projet-sioniste-de-theodor-herzl
^[3] https://www.retronews.fr/justice/echo-de-presse/2018/01/10/lisez-le-jaccuse-de-zola
^[4] https://www.cjh.org/lapidus/Herzl.html
^[5] https://jerusalemdeclaration.org/
^[6] https://www.ushmm.org/research/about-the-mandel-center/initiatives/ethics-religion-holocaust/articles-and-resources/christian-persecution-of-jews-over-the-centuries/christian-persecution-of-jews-over-the-centuries
^[7] http://www.christianunity.va/content/unitacristiani/en/commissione-per-i-rapporti-religiosi-con-l-ebraismo/commissione-per-i-rapporti-religiosi-con-l-ebraismo-crre/documenti-della-commissione/en.html
^[8] Joshua just shared an excellent article from Jews for Jesus if anyone is interested in reading more: https://www.jewsforjesus.org.au/articles/christians-your-jewish-friends-are-not-okay
^[9] Revelation 21-22

This Article Was Originally Published On Jan 18, 2021

The year was 1989, and I was a freshman in high school. I was sitting at a lone desk in an empty hallway because, once again, my behavior had gotten me kicked out of class—but on purpose, actually. Because though I was attending one of the best prep schools in New Jersey and in all honors classes, occasionally, when the learning material couldn’t quite hold my attention, I’d goof around until I was asked to take my desk into the hallway. And what would I do once in the hallway? I’d eagerly pull out Strength To Love, by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Since middle school, Dr. King was always my favorite, reading away and even re-reading the heavier content until I got it. Dr. King was a pure scholar.

“My friends, we cannot win the respect of the White people of the South or elsewhere if we are willing to trade the future of our children for our personal safety or comfort. Moreover, we must learn that passively to accept an unjust system is to cooperate with that system, and thereby become a participant in its evil… Put up thy sword.” — Strength To Love, 1963

This book I always carried with me was actually an original paperback that had belonged to my father during his executive administrative position at Seton Hall University. He had emulated the steps of Dr. King and became a leader in the civil rights struggle in New Jersey, implementing scholarship programs and graduate programs for people of color, which are still active until this very day. But not before he first endured growing up in poverty in the Deep South of the 1950s. He attended segregated schooling throughout high school, where his hungry mind always had to wait until the white schools finished sucking the abridged life out of every textbook before his school could finally get them. Even after earning valedictorian at his school, his physics teacher gave him a failing grade on a perfect paper. When my dad asked why, the teacher told him, “I didn’t give you an ‘A’ on that paper because you said you wanted to be a nuclear physicist, and a colored person has no business being a nuclear physicist.”

On this day when Dr. King’s birthday is nationally honored (his actual birthday being January 15), what does he mean to me?

As far back as I can remember, and even before his birthday became a national holiday in 1986, an integral part of our northern urban culture was to ecstatically celebrate Dr. King’s birthday—even if it just meant turning up Stevie Wonder’s “Happy Birthday to Ya,” extra loud on Mom’s clock radio as we’d get ready for school that morning.

Also, as far back as I can remember, whenever Dr. King’s name was mentioned, the emphasis on the title “doctor” was always sacred, as to just say his name would seemingly usher in a hush of honor and dignity as everyone would seem to hold their heads a bit higher for a second. While others called him by his full name without the title, we remembered him as a man who overcame all obstacles to earn his Ph.D., a rarity for countless black folks in those times. He was beloved in our community: He was like everyone’s unofficial favorite grandfather, father, godfather, uncle or son. A man, who for the sake of fighting for the freedoms of the oppressed, didn’t fear violent fists, fire hoses, bone-bruising batons, handcuffs, prison cells, police dogs trained to go berserk whenever they saw brown skin, or even death itself.

I grew up in a home with a humanistic worldview, attending Catholic church only on the important holidays, so I had a vague familiarity with Jesus. But I remember reading Dr. King’s references to Jesus Christ, Christ’s Sermon on the Mount and Christ’s commandment to forgive and turn the other cheek, and then getting to observe how Dr. King actually lived it out. He was the first person to make Jesus’ life and teachings relevant and powerful to me. Long before I was anywhere close to believing the Gospel and giving my heart to Christ, Dr. King showed this once-young, curious “searching” teenager—growing up on the drug-dealing streets of inner-city New Jersey, while at the same time, going to a wealthy prep school where I had my own countless bouts with both blatant and covert forms of racism—that Jesus was real and that Jesus’ teachings were still relevant in modern times and for modern issues.

Fast forward now: I matriculated at the “Ivy League” halls of the University of Pennsylvania, and though I was a pre-med student, I began learning much more about the world around me.

As an African-American Studies minor, I studied other prominent black leaders who had ideologies quite different from those of Dr. King’s.

I attended various lectures and even sat at the feet of people like Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Movement (along with Huey P. Newton). I read Malcolm X and others who critiqued Dr. King’s methods. But to me, Dr. King remained bulletproof from the blaze of any critic; his message of reconciliation was simple and powerful and grounded in the love taught by Christ.

Fast forward, yet again, to when I hadn’t read Dr. King in years, by this point, when I was my senior year at Penn and busy navigating and (seemingly barely) surviving my own personal Ecclesiastes, like the spiritually-wearied King Solomon—suddenly finding everything around me to feel like “vanity” and “chasing wind” when it came to finding “true fulfillment”—and thereby, leading me to discover the regenerating Gospel of Jesus Christ as the true summum bonum (i.e., “greatest good”) for all of mankind. Oh, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, t’was blind but now, I see.”

As I graduated from Penn and began devouring the Word of God and growing in a (heavy) Bible-teaching church community, I was learning to “rightly divide the word of God” and even hold up the teachings of others against the Word of God—just as Jesus instructs His followers to do (I Thessalonians 5:21; Psalm 138:2). And it was at this point that I learned the difference between good or “sound” theology, bad theology and even “slightly off” theology.

I began learning more about Gospel-centered ministry, and how when Jesus spoke of giving a (refreshing) cup of water to even a child in His name, that even that wouldn’t go unrewarded by Him—and how some are indeed giving the (refreshing) cup of cold water “in His name” (i.e., while sharing the soul-saving “Good News” message of Jesus Christ, while countless others—all in the name of “Christian ministry”—all too often end up compromising with a “Social Gospel,” which still gives the (refreshing) cup of cold water and meets the pressing need(s) at hand, only they neglect doing it “in His name,” as the final element of Jesus’ command.

Thus, as a Bible-lensed believer, I had to now look at Dr. King, my first “superhero,” my first scholar whom I read in empty “naughty” hallways, after getting kicked out of class, the man who greatly inspired my own (hero) father, the man who still made my mom get teary-eyed when she found a rare book by him to gift to me, the man who first made Jesus real to me… I had to look at him through the lenses of “rightly divided” Scripture. And having a close friend who worked directly with Dr. King’s children at the King Foundation in Atlanta, Georgia, I even got access to hundreds of pages of King’s never-released essays, including essays from his younger days attending a liberal seminary, where he even questioned the Word of God’s supreme, inerrant theology, while trying to amalgamate the biblical worldview with ancient Egyptian belief systems. Add to that the pressing questions you hear voiced here and there:

Was Dr. King a socialist or communist? Was he an adulterer? Did he fall victim to Jesus’ warnings concerning “the leaven of Herod,” falling into the trap of mingling humanistic political might with unadulterated Gospel hope? There was so much to think about, but I had to be reminded of one thing: Whenever we are confronted with uncertainties or unanswered questions surrounding a person, we tend to “throw the baby out with the bathwater.” At the heart of observing others, will always remain the ongoing struggle of reconciling the imperfections of the person, with the redeemable parts and lessons of the message and the overall work.

So what do we do with all of this, and as (rhetorically) stated in the title of Dr. King’s last book he wrote, Where Do We Go From Here? I have come to the conclusion that we owe Dr. King the same grace we’ve extended to King David, King Uzziah, Peter & the other disciples, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his reported involvement in two assassination attempts on Hitler, C.S. Lewis and his non-biblical belief in Purgatory, and countless others. In fact, it is the very same grace we pray to God for concerning our own personal lives every day. The Bible clearly instructs us to “mark the steps of a righteous man (Psalm 37:37),” to call sin for what it is, and to learn from those around us (and those in history), which also included learning from their mistakes, lest we easily slip and fall in (any and all similar) places ourselves (I Corinthians 10:12). Yes, the Word of God is supreme and is to be our guide in all things, but in doing so, love will always remain the “most excellent way” in doing so.

Most of all, here is my biggest question concerning Dr. King: Will I see my hero in heaven?

You know, I’ve read so much written by Dr. King and about Dr. King, that it gets confusing as to where I have read what at times. However, what stands out the most of all that I’ve ever read was an obscure essay he once wrote about the night back when he was leading his first bus boycott for the desegregation of buses in Montgomery, Alabama, and in retaliation, someone shot up his house, leaving bullet holes in the very sanctuary where his wife and kids found refuge.

He proceeded to write of how he sat alone that night in his kitchen—already a husband, father, up-and-coming national civil rights leader, and even a Baptist minister—and shaken to his core by what had happened to his home, he asked himself if he had truly experienced a (spiritually) born again experience in making Jesus Christ his personal Lord and Savior. And not sure of his own answer to that question, but wanting to make sure he was truly “in Christ” and not just deceivingly a mere part of “Churchianity” and “religious culture,” this pioneering visionary, scholar, courageous commander and religious man who emulated Jesus Christ, actually lowered his head and invited the risen Christ into His heart as his personal Lord and Savior for the remission of sins.

I’ve heard many wonder if King Solomon will be in heaven simply because of his severe backsliding (which led him to worship in very demonic ways). But based on his conclusion in Ecclesiastes, I believe King Solomon is in glory.

And I cannot prove it (for who knows the heart but God (I Corinthians 4:5), I believe my hero Dr. King is in glory as well.

In closing, what should be our practical take away and application concerning the legacy of Dr. King?

In this racially-polarized day, when so many (even in the Church) refuse to have the necessary, ongoing, tough conversations concerning race, and when we must be ready to (lovingly) challenge others (and even challenge ourselves at times), let us remember how Dr. King seemed to never grow weary in “leaning into discomfort” for the love of others. In a day when the Church has grossly confused merely knowing with actually doing something with what you know, let us remember how Dr. King’s entire life was a living sermon on how talk is cheap. More so, in a day, when Christians sometimes can’t even garner enough Christian humility to apologize to their next-door neighbors for the slightest offenses, Dr. King made Jesus’ teachings on forgiveness and “turning the other cheek” look supernatural, to say the least.

In a day when Christians can’t even embrace a brother or sister who adheres to a different style of worship or denominational viewpoint, let us remember how Dr. King was able to embrace Malcolm X with love and honor—even after Malcolm X publicly criticized Dr. King and regularly alluded to Dr. King not being “strong enough.” Most of all, in a day when we struggle with sacrificing for anything we deem “too costly,” in Dr. King we see a man who sacrificed even unto death—even (seemingly) prophesying about his imminent death in a message delivered some 24 hours before he was assassinated. In it, he declared that he still wasn’t going to stop and wasn’t concerned with such because he had received a fresh vision of His Lord Jesus Christ, and that He would one day be returning to Earth to reign as King of kings and Lord of lords.

You know, for so many reasons, I still can’t watch this video clip without tears running down my face. And when I grow up, I still want to be so much like Dr. King, just like I desire to be so much like King David, Abraham, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and so many others who have deeply impacted me for Jesus, in one way or another, even as they all prove that even “the best of men, are but men at best” (A.W. Pink).

So dear reader, let’s keep thinking; let’s keep the necessary conversations going while being more eager to listen than to speak; let’s love one another sacrificially; let’s love our enemies as Jesus commanded us; let’s continue facing this current evil day with relevant Gospel outreaches and spontaneous acts of love, all in our deepest desire to showcase Jesus Christ as man’s only solution for every dilemma—and especially the dilemma of race and America’s ongoing reaping from the ongoing sowing of things that clearly contradict the heart and mind of God concerning how people treat and value one another. Happy Birthday, Dr. King! Salute!

“Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.” — Strength To Love, 1963

Editor’s Note: Editor’s Note: This article was previously published on September 16, 2021. This year (2023), the 10th day of the Jewish month of Tishrei runs from the evening of September 24 until sunset on September 25.

Background to Yom Kippur:

The Temple Mount and the tension surrounding this particular location are common themes of contemporary discussions concerning the Modern State of Israel. However, when the people of Israel came out of Egypt (Exodus 12:33-14:31), they did not have a fixed location in which they would worship God. In fact, the building of the first Israelite Temple, which was ultimately established on what we now know as the Temple Mount, did not start until 480 years after the Israelite’s Exodus from Egypt. This project was undertaken by King Solomon (1 Kings 6:1)—the third king of the nation of Israel.

Nevertheless, prior to the existence of a permanent Temple building, the people still worshiped. In Exodus 25-40, God gives instructions to the people of Israel regarding the construction of a portable tabernacle—and all of its component parts—as a place of worship and sacrificial activity. The people transported the Tabernacle with them during the wilderness wanderings, prior to entering the Promised Land.

Subsequent to the instructions relating to the building of the Tabernacle came very specific commands pertaining to the regulation of sacrifices in the Tabernacle (Leviticus 1-7). These sacrifices were performed by priests who interceded between humankind and God by implementing divine instruction on behalf of the people. Aaron (Moses’ brother) and his sons were divinely appointed and inaugurated as the leaders of the community of priests (Leviticus 8-9).

Yet, immediately following their call to the priesthood, the book of Leviticus relates the account of the death of Aaron’s two sons—Nadab and Abihu—by the hand of God (10:1). The text does not explicitly state why God put these two men to death. They were apparently guilty of entering the tabernacle and making an offering in a manner that was not ordained by God (cf. 10:2).

This episode is presented as the historical foundation for the instruction presented in Leviticus 16:1-2 relating to the Day of the Atonement. In short, as a preface to the instructions for Yom Kippur, God declares to Aaron through Moses, “You are going to atone for your sin and the sin of your community exactly the way I am about to command you so that you do not die like your sons died.” The following provides a summary of the rest of the events that were to take place on Yom Kippur that are crucial to our understanding of the significance of this day.

Summary of Biblical Yom Kippur:

Initially, the high priest would enter the Holy Place of the Tabernacle with offerings of a bull and a ram. He was then commanded to remove his ordinary, yet majestic, priestly garb and dress in holy, simple linen vestments after properly bathing his body. After taking two more goats from the congregation to serve as sin offerings, the high priest would offer the bull as a sin offering for himself and his family, prior to making atonement for the people. He then entered the Holy of Holies and sprinkled the blood of the bull that was sacrificed on his behalf, on and in front of the mercy seat—the place where God’s presence was manifested (16:3-6, 11, 14).

This initial stage of the Day of Atonement is extremely important in that the high priest—the person who was chosen by God to intermediate between God and the community of Israel—demonstrated his own shortcomings. The need for the priest to bathe his body is the typical example of his constant need to renew the physical body in order for it to thrive. The sin offering that the high priest offered for himself was representative of (even) the high priest’s need to be cleansed of his sin. It indicated the necessity of the priest to attend to his own spiritual need prior to interceding on behalf of his community.

Next, the high priest was commanded to take two goats and cast lots over them at the entrance of the tent of meeting. God determined, through the casting of lots, which of these two goats was to be offered as a sin offering to the Lord (16:7-9). After this goat was killed, its blood was taken into the Holy of Holies and was sprinkled on and in front of the mercy seat. In this way, atonement was made by the high priest for the Tabernacle as well as on behalf of the people (16:15-16). The high priest then spread the blood of the bull he sacrificed for himself and the goat he sacrificed on behalf of the people on the horns of another altar, outside of the Holy of Holies in the Tabernacle complex (16:18).

The sprinkling of the blood in different areas of the Tabernacle indicated that God permitted the high priest to enter into His presence to make atonement for himself, the people and the Tabernacle (which was defiled by the sin of the people) ONLY through the death of a substitute. That is to say, the life of the animal was sacrificed in order for there to be communion with God. These were God’s terms of worship. The people, through the priest, could only receive the forgiveness of their sin through the blood of a sacrifice (17:11).

In the midst of all of the blood sprinkling, there is a somewhat unexpected turn of events. Just when one might expect more bloodshed, the high priest is instructed to lay his hands on the head of the goat, that was not fated to death by the casting of lots, and confess the transgressions of the people. This act seemingly represents the transmitting of the sin of the people onto the goat. That goat—traditionally known as the “scapegoat,” though not without dispute—was taken by a helper and set free into the wilderness, evidently carrying away the sin of the people (16:20-22).

The last stage of the day was one of cleansing. The high priest was instructed to enter the tent of meeting, take off all of his garments and leave them there. The high priest was to bathe, get dressed in (presumably) his normal garments, and then make another sacrifice for himself and for the people. The person who was responsible for letting the goat go alive was also to purify himself. Lastly, all of the remains of the sacrifices were taken outside of the camp of the people of Israel and burned. The person who was responsible for burning the remains of the sacrifices was also commanded to purify himself (16:23-28).

Problems with Yom Kippur:

Since June 19, 2007—the day in which the first iPhone was released—I have consistently yearned to possess every generation of the iPhone. Ten years later, 18 different iPhone models have been produced with the latest and best being the iPhone X. At this point in history, it is possible to look back at the first generation of the iPhone, and while recognizing its splendor at the time of its debut, also acknowledge that it is not a desirable phone at this juncture. The reason is that there were several, if not many, shortcomings inherent to the original model.

For example, the first generation of the iPhone could not multitask in the manner in which it is possible on almost every phone nowadays. It was not possible to copy and paste text; third party applications could not be downloaded; there was no GPS system; the camera did not have a flash; it could not video record; the screen was minute compared to the screens on current phones; and the absolute best model had a memory of only 16GB. In light of all of these deficiencies, the best way to evaluate the value of the current iPhone X is by looking at the shortcomings of the initial model and reflecting upon how those shortcomings foreshadowed a greater end result.

Likewise, there were indeed shortcomings in the original High Holy day of Yom Kippur that foreshadowed a greater end result. God gave the people of Israel specific instructions for the Day of Atonement that contained certain inadequacies, implying the necessity for the atonement of sin in a more excellent manner. There are at least four main issues that arise with regard to the atonement for sin as depicted in Leviticus 16:

1) The Temporary Nature of the Atonement:
Why did the people have to continually sacrifice in order to atone for their sin? Why couldn’t their sin be atoned for once and for all?

2) The Blood of Animals:
How could the blood of animals take away the sin of humans? These first two issues bring to mind the inextricable connection between sacrificial activity and a physical Tabernacle or Temple. According to the Law set out in Leviticus 16, the people needed an actual location to carry out the sacrifices necessary in order to comply with God’s commands for legitimate atonement. Does the absence of a Tabernacle or a Temple—as is the present state of affairs—eliminate the possibility for the remission of sin?

3) The Imperfection of the Priesthood:
The priests had to perpetually sacrifice for themselves, symbolizing the guilt of the intermediator that was to represent the people to God, and God to the people. The priest had his own issue with sin, requiring him to sacrifice for his own sin before he could sacrifice for the sin of others. Aaron was indeed imperfect (cf. the Golden Calf narrative in Exodus 32), as were his sons (see above, e.g. Nadab and Abihu). This begs the question: Could there ever be forgiveness of sin by means of an innocent mediator as opposed to the guilty interceding on behalf of the guilty?

4) The Affliction of the People:
Is the self-affliction of the people related to the forgiveness of sin?

Christ in Yom Kippur.

This past summer, my family spent about seven weeks in Israel. Upon returning home, we were greeted by an enormous underground beehive in our front yard.This beehive grew to be extremely problematic because it was located about 10 feet from the front porch, meaning that we would have to pass many bees upon exiting the front door. I am as incompetent as anyone when it comes to problems with bees, so in my mind, I was sure I could eliminate the problem by killing the bees.

Our family and friends subsequently conducted a series of experiments with the intent of eliminating the bee problem. The experiments consisted of: spraying entire cans of bee spray on the bees, covering the bees with dirt, pouring water on the bees and even running over the bees with the lawnmower. To our dismay, the bees insisted upon endlessly occupying our front yard.

In reality, we were not addressing the source of the problem.

The reason the bees persisted in holding our family hostage was that their hive remained relatively unscathed. Despite our repeated attempts to resolve the matter by facilitating the demise of our unwanted neighbors, our solution to the problem was only representative of what needed to be accomplished. The problem continued to return after an hour, a day or a week. In order to obtain true liberation from the threat of the bees, something greater needed to happen. We needed to deal with the root of the issue—the underground beehive.

Correspondingly, atonement through the blood of animals could not truly eliminate humankind’s plight stemming from their sin. The high priests—impaired by the depravity of their own transgressions—were incapable of interceding in a manner worthy of absolute divine sanction. Thus, it was commanded that sacrifices be repeatedly carried out so that atonement could be made for sin, regardless of how much the people of Israel afflicted themselves.

These systemic inadequacies relating to Yom Kippur foreshadowed a day in which the shortcomings would be perfected—namely, through the person and the work of Jesus the Messiah. Jesus perfected the imperfections of Yom Kippur. This is an implicit message read through the pages of the New Testament.

However, Jesus is explicitly stated to be the culmination of the sacrificial system in Hebrews 7:26-27: “For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since he did this once for all when he offered up himself.”

Jesus is the Perfect High Priest.

As we see in this passage from Hebrews, Jesus is “holy.” By His divine character, He is set apart for the service of God the Father. Jesus is “innocent.” He is without any deficiencies and completely blameless. Jesus is “unstained.” He is perfectly free from the character flaws and blemishes with which all of the previous high priests struggled as a result of their sin. Jesus is “separated from sinners.” He is completely disconnected from the sinful nature. Because of who He is and what He has done, Jesus is rightfully “exalted above the heavens.”

By virtue of these attributes and His exalted position, Jesus is the only Perfect High Priest who does not need “to offer sacrifices daily, first for His own sins and then for those of the people.” Jesus was not guilty of any sin as He offered a blood sacrifice for the remission (cancellation) of sin, thereby being the only one who ever lived who could serve as a perfect intermediator between God and humankind.

Jesus is the Perfect Sacrifice.

Notice that in Hebrews 7:27, Jesus functions in two roles:

1) Jesus is the Priest:
Jesus is the subject of the final phrase. He is the one that is carrying out the act of sacrificing. This is what Jesus did on the cross.

2) Jesus is the Sacrifice:
Jesus is the direct object of the final phrase of Hebrews 7:27. He is the one being sacrificed. This is what Jesus did on the cross. When Jesus was on the cross, He exclaimed, “It is finished” (John 19:30). These words indicated that the ultimate sacrifice had been offered. There was no longer a need for any other priest or sacrifice because Jesus, the Perfect Priest, perfectly offered Himself as the Perfect Sacrifice (Hebrews 10:1-4).

The Levitical high priest could only offer the blood of animals, which never truly removed sin, but rather, temporarily covered human sin. Our High Priest, Jesus, offered Himself as a blameless sacrifice on behalf of humanity, alone in the heavenly Holy of Holies, suffering an agonizing death, so that He could serve as an impeccable mediator between humankind and God. As a result of His actions, the veil of the Temple was torn (Matthew 27:51; Mark 15:38; Luke 23:45), giving all who are covered by His blood access to the Holy of Holies and, thereby, the presence of the Most High God.

Louis Goldberg summarizes: “…The Mediator of the New Covenant, in His ministry, did not have to confess His sin because there was no sin in Him. Jesus the Messiah, acting in the capacity of High Priest, was holy, innocent, undefiled; He did not have to offer sacrifices before He could minister for us, taking our place perfectly before the exalted and holy God. Jesus alone faultlessly bridges the infinite gap between God and man, and because of His death, He can give us His life.”¹

The events that were commanded by God on Yom Kippur were signs of even greater things. They were representative of what the perfect High Priest Jesus would do in the heavenly Holy of Holies, satisfying the wrath of God toward sin by taking it upon Himself, spilling His own blood, and suffering the death penalty on the cross. Our sin was transferred to Jesus, paid for by His blood, and completely taken away (Hebrews 9:11-14; cf. Leviticus 16:20-22).

Conclusion: Affliction vs. Familiarity

The old adage “familiarity breeds contempt” seems to be why God commanded the people to afflict themselves in Leviticus 16 in addition to the other sacrificial obligations of Yom Kippur. Consider this fact: The people of Israel actually had the presence of the living God dwelling among them in the Tabernacle, and subsequently, in the Temple (cf. 2 Chronicles 5:14). This is the type of experience that might have become humdrum, and consequently, the people could have become complacent in their worship. Nevertheless, when the Day of Atonement came around, and with it multiple sacrifices to atone for the sin of the community, the people were reminded of who they were before a perfect God. Seeing what God required to make atonement as a result of the gravity of their sin, the people’s self-affliction was to serve as an additional reminder for them not to sin against God.

Nevertheless, believers in Jesus have no contemporary mandate to afflict ourselves on any particular day. Now, it is by looking at Jesus and how He intentionally permitted Himself to be afflicted, that we are reminded of the gravity of our sin.

God is not vindictive toward humankind but rather has established a way in which people can come to Him, completely liberated of their sin. God is not resentful and angry at human beings but rather has always loved those whom He created in His image. Through the sacrifice of Jesus, God has created a way for us to recognize Him and love Him back. In this, God has demonstrated that He indeed has never wanted anyone to perish in their sin but for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9; cf. 1 Timothy 2:3-4).

It is because of God’s love exhibited through Jesus that humankind is not currently called to afflict our soul. Rather, we experience the affliction of our souls by fixing our eyes on the cross of Jesus. We meditate on the affliction He underwent, suffering mental and physical anguish, and eventually being put to death so that we might live. Our soul cannot be any more afflicted than that of Jesus who willingly died for humanity, suffering the wrath of God for sin that He did not commit.

An inadequate understanding of the ancient Israelite sacrificial system necessarily leads to an incomplete understanding of Jesus’ work for humanity. Because of this, we treasure every single page of written correspondence we have received from God. All of Scripture is relevant, and there is no section of Scripture that deserves to be read with my fantasy fiction attitude.

Yom Kippur is not simply another important Jewish holiday that Christians witness from a distance. Yom Kippur is a day in which we are reminded what the blood of Jesus actually did—and thereby, what it means to humankind. Jesus’ blood provided absolute forgiveness of sin, so that by looking to Him as our great High Priest, and believing in Him as our perfect sacrifice, we have the privilege of entering into the Holy of Holies and communing with the Most High God.

¹ Louis Goldberg, Leviticus, p. 85

Editor’s Note: This article was previously published on September 15, 2021. This year (2023), the 10th day of the Jewish month of Tishrei runs from the evening of September 24 until sunset on September 25.

Biblical Law and My Contempt for Fantasy Literature

Watching, reading or listening to fantasy literature are insufferable experiences for me. I do not like The Lord of the Rings; I have a difficult time following The Chronicles of Narnia; Harry Potter is frustrating to me. It is safe to say that I simply do not appreciate, nor do I really see any value in, the fantasy genre.

I have tried to engage with this material—whether through obtaining the books, or mostly, by viewing the movie versions of these stories. I have repeatedly tried to watch The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. I fall asleep. I have all of The Chronicles of Narnia on my bookshelf. They have been there for years.

I cannot—for the life of me—get into these stories.

I’ve started to realize why I have a difficult time appreciating fantasy; I do not care for anything that I perceive as not immediately applicable to life. Once a child goes into a closet and enters another world, or an 11-year-old boy starts to ride on a broomstick, I completely lose focus. Since these types of things simply do not happen in reality, I find myself questioning why I would fiddle with watching/reading these stories.

I know, beloved reader, that you might be angling your mouse toward the corner of this page, ready to dismiss the rest of this article because of my criticism of a genre that so many Christians hold close to their hearts—But, I beg you not to leave!

My contempt for fantasy literature is an apt illustration of what I (a professor of Old Testament) perceives to be a prominent Evangelical view toward many sections of the Old Testament. This perspective is especially typical as it pertains to sections of the Hebrew Bible that relate to Biblical Law. Christians tend to approach reading sections of the Old Testament like I approach reading fantasy literature, determining that this text does not immediately apply to our lives and, therefore, questioning why we would waste our time reading it.

However, it is not cogent for Evangelicals to, on the one hand, claim to hold the verbal plenary inspiration view of Scripture while, on the other hand, undermine the significance of portions of Scripture we may perceive to be irrelevant to our lives.

Perhaps we need to change the way we look at Biblical Law. I would suggest that there is no Biblical book in which a change of paradigm is more necessary concerning application for the church than Leviticus.

Why Read Leviticus?

Why would we ever want to read the book of Leviticus? Well, the following is a non-comprehensive summary of one of the more important reasons.

Those who have read through the book of Leviticus cannot help but notice how much blood is mentioned or alluded to through sacrifice. This coincides with the book’s extensive emphasis on the sacrificial system that God gave through Moses to his brother Aaron (the first high priest), and thereby, to Ancient Israel. One of the main focuses of the book of Leviticus is how the priests were to intercede on behalf of the people of Israel by performing blood sacrifices for the remission of sin (Leviticus 4-7; cf. 17:11, 14). This sacrificial activity comes to a pinnacle on the High Holy day of Yom Kippur—The Day of Atonement (Hebrew: Yom “Day”, HaKippurim “The Atonement(s)” [literally “sin coverings”]).

But what can we as Christians learn from the Day of Atonement? Isn’t Yom Kippur exclusively a Jewish holiday?

Yes, Yom Kippur is a Jewish holiday. But rather than this fact reducing the significance of the Day of Atonement for Christians, it drastically increases the importance. One of the main reasons for this heightened significance is that all of the writers of the New Testament—except for Luke—were Jews. Because of this fact, the motifs of sacrifice, blood, priesthood, intercession and remission of sins (evident in the book of Leviticus, and especially on the Day of Atonement) are all conspicuously present in the New Testament.

When one studies the Biblical passages concerning Yom Kippur, it becomes evident that it is absolutely necessary to understand aspects of the book of Leviticus in order to grasp the completed work of Jesus on the cross. Jesus’ work on the cross was the climax of that which was depicted during the Yom Kippur High Holy Day. Comparing and contrasting Leviticus 16 with select passages from the New Testament demonstrates the ultimate and perfect culmination of Yom Kippur by Jesus the Messiah.

Yom Kippur among Jews Today

The 10th day of the Jewish month of Tishrei runs this year from the evening of September 29 until sunset on September 30 on our Gregorian calendar. Many Jewish people consider this the holiest day on the Jewish calendar, despite the fact that the consequences for dishonoring the Sabbath are more severe than the consequences for violating Yom Kippur (death [cf. Numbers 15:32-36] as compared to excommunication [cf. Leviticus 23:29]). Many Jewish people who are not normally religious, or even traditional, observe Yom Kippur. Jewish men don a yarmulke/kippa on their heads, wear white clothes to symbolize purity and spend much of their day praying in a local synagogue where there are five prayer services, confessing the sin of the Jewish community. During one of these Yom Kippur prayer services (the Minchah [“Offering”]), the book of Jonah is read to communicate the idea that humankind can turn back to God after having been disobedient.

Observant Jewish people refrain from enjoyable activities in honor of God’s command to afflict oneself on this day (cf. Leviticus 16:29, 31; 23:27, 32; Numbers 29:7). They fast for at least 25 hours (all boys age 13 and over, and girls age 12 and over), many even refraining from drinking water during this fast (cf. Isaiah 58:3, 5; Psalm 35:13). Jewish people refrain from sexual relations; they refrain from bathing or anointing their bodies (i.e. with lotions, creams, perfumes, etc.); they refrain from wearing leather shoes (something that was once considered a luxury), and they undergo a period of intense soul searching.

There are two main greetings that are common among Jewish people that observe Yom Kippur. Since Yom Kippur is a day in which people fast, Jewish people will say tzom qal (צום קל “light fast” [i.e. “may you have an easy fast”]) to each other in order to express their desire for their companions’ day of fasting to be as easy as possible for them.

The other greeting has a bit more of a spiritual ring. Because Yom Kippur is an occasion on which Jewish people pray for forgiveness, others in their community wish them well by stating “g’mar chatimah tovah” (גמר חתימה טובה) which, loosely translated, expresses the wish that one “be sealed in the book of life for good.”

After hearing all of this, you might be thinking, “Wow! Why do our Jewish friends intentionally put themselves through so much discomfort on this day?”

Surely, there is some Jewish interpretation as to how one is to afflict oneself on Yom Kippur. Nevertheless, what is interesting is that God is the one who instilled the requirement for hardship on this day in Leviticus 16. The Israelite people were under a divine imperative to intentionally create physical and mental distress for themselves on Yom Kippur. This is the only day on the Jewish calendar in which people were/are commanded to afflict themselves.

Why would God ever command people to afflict themselves on the Day of Atonement? Where can Christ be seen in all of this? What can Christians gain from a better understanding of Yom Kippur?

In order to tackle these difficult questions brought about by God’s command for the Israelites to afflict themselves on Yom Kippur, we shall review the history regarding the emergence of the Day of Atonement, the reason it was observed, and why it was intended to be memorialized for subsequent generations. Enjoy the second part of this in-depth look at Yom Kippur in my next post!

Have you ever had a conversation where you knew you were missing something? It could be a point of reference that everyone else knew, leaving you two steps behind. I’ve had many discussions I wished I’d been more prepared for. Often they became part of my life training where thanks to a name dropped here or there, I could go back and catch up. Otherwise, it’s like speaking a common language, but the meaning behind words and thoughts are worlds apart.

I’ve noticed this trend on some of my social media feeds: friends expressing sincere concern in a way they both feel is loving and biblical but communicate the opposite.

There’re many reasons for this. Sometimes it’s awkwardness, sometimes a lack of listening; sometimes, it’s a missing reference. It’s that last possibility that I’d like to address. I want to share some of those essential names. Though most are non-Christians, they’ve shaped our world, and their work has become a reference point.

In Christian ministry, we can learn from them, even if our worldview contradicts theirs. At the very least, knowing them can help us understand others. Paul did this by quoting a pagan while sharing the gospel in Athens. He didn’t adhere to everything the poet said but used truth in Acts 17.

With this in mind, I’d like to talk about Hannah Arendt (1906-1975), a Jewish thinker from Germany. Her works on philosophy and political theory are still incredibly influential today. She’s often quoted by thinkers and writers worldwide as her thoughts on the political realm, violence, power, totalitarianism, thought, pleasure, and the human condition remain at the forefront of current conversations. In the Christian world, one can find her quotes from podcasts like “The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill” hosted by Mike Cosper to more academic works like The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self by Carl R. Trueman.

Her ideas have become such a part of our way of thinking that it’s possible today to adhere to them without knowing her name. She’s one of the rare thinkers influencing both the political right and the left while providing sharp questions that make both sides uncomfortable.

Although summarising her entire work would be difficult, I’d like to concentrate on only three books, The Origins of Totalitarianism, The Human Condition, and Eichmann in Jerusalem, to show what we can glean from them.

The Origins of Totalitarianism (1951)

This book gives me chills. It was like reading a non-fiction horror story. Arendt traces the lines of the rise of Totalitarian regimes beginning with antisemitism and racism; then, she moves to Hitler’s Nazi party and Stalin’s Soviet Union. She describes the strategies that became normalized through their application, which means people came to accept what these men were doing as expected.

She observes how the masses supported Hitler and Stalin, bringing them into power and applauding their initial policies. These masses, she explains, are isolated, independent thinkers disenchanted with the status quo of the political system, with a taste for the unveiling of secret intentions (complot theories) and the demasking of the elite’s hypocrisy. Sound familiar? Ultimately, she says they had less interest in science and reason than in happiness and pleasure …^[1]

What this book gives us today is a system of looking into power, politics, and society that transcends the traditional divide between conservatism and liberalism. She asks what is good and evil. These concepts are helpful to Christian workers today because the world has already been working with them and judging itself (and us) by them.

Honestly, differentiating between good and evil above politics has been the Christian perspective since the beginning.^[2]The Bible also warns us against following the crowd^[3] and tells us to speak the truth in love,^[4] not to show partiality,^[5]and to pray for those in power.^[6] Moreover, the Bible gives us a blueprint of how to live as individuals and the necessity to live harmoniously in a community.^[7]

The Human Condition (1958)

This chef-d’oeuvre was taken from a series of lectures at The University of Chicago and later developed at Princeton University. It’s a whirlwind, but stick with it: it’s a true treasure! The Human Condition traces humanity’s philosophical and political development from Antiquity to the mid-twentieth Century. Although there’d be too much to underline in this article, she does discuss the loss of faith and slip into a relativism that brings the West back to the Greek philosophers.

Though she doesn’t use these words, she describes a post-Christian era. She speaks about doubt and the esprit critique,which lead humanity to the point of finding meaning in themselves, their fulfillment, and their hedonistic pleasure.

In her final exhortation, she laments the difficulty of modernity to adequately process under pressure, “No other human capacity is so vulnerable, and it is in fact far easier to act under conditions of tyranny than it is to think.”^[8] This is where Christian leaders can gain from this book. We’ve been called to think about our lives in many Bible passages,^[9] especially in those calling God’s people to return to Him.

Another reference point for all those in ministry is understanding what she describes concerning humanity’s center of truth. She illustrates how Western society is no longer centered on a physical earth-bound reality but on a point somewhere in the heart of our desire. This brings us biblically back to the Book of Judges, where everyone does what’s right in their own eyes. We need to recognize that this worldview (contrary to our view) is not seen as a state of abandoning God, but as the world sees it, no longer needing Him and thus the best way to live. This is our chance to show His reality in our lives and have a patient conversation with them.^[10]

Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (1963)

This book is easier to read in some ways, but only if you have all the cultural references. It falls somewhere between journalism and philosophy. The story is that she went to Jerusalem for The New Yorker to cover the trial of Adolph Eichmann, a Nazi bureaucrat responsible for the deaths of many in the Holocaust. She chronicled and analyzed the trial from a different perspective than expected and received harsh criticism for her work. Arendt questions if Israel had the right to kidnap Eichmann in a foreign country and bring him to trial and if Jewish leaders had collaborated with the Nazis during the War.

But what she is most remembered for today is the idea of the banality of evil. She describes how unimpressive Eichmann was: middle-aged, balding, a dedicated worker who always followed the rules and took pride in being a good employee. In his own eyes, he wasn’t antisemitic; he did nothing more than obey his hierarchy. Ultimately, he committed horrendous crimes against humanity while sitting at a desk, following orders without thinking about the human cost. It was banality because it was so shockingly normal and yet tremendously evil.^[11]

Christian leaders should know this book because sometimes they work in abusive conditions, either in their day job or even in some ministry situations. Eichmann in Jerusalem provokes us to think about the price of silence,^[12] not in a spirit of constant denunciation but in a sober way. It would call us to seek help or advice and to consider the consequences. The Bible tells us not to accept everything we hear^[13] but also that facts are to be established through the word of two or three witnesses.^[14] This requires Christian leaders to be prayerfully aware and to keep hold of our consciousness.

Embracing Disagreement and Divine Dialogue

Hannah Arendt was a genuinely great writer of our time. We may not agree with everything she wrote, but some of her closest friends didn’t either. In that way, she’s an excellent example of debating, reasoning, and disagreeing while remaining friends.

This reminds me of how God calls His people into dialogue to win them back. Isaiah 1:18 says, ”Come now, and let us reason together,” says the LORD. The Lord invites those who disagree with Him to talk. But if we come to Him, He can show us where we are lacking and how much we need Him. Then we can know the promise: “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”

References

^[1] Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism, 2nd ed. (Meridian Books, 1951), 305-342.
^[2] 1Kings 3:9, John 7:24, Romans 12:2
^[3] Exodus 23:2
^[4] Ephesians 4:15
^[5] James 2:1-13
^[6] 1 Timothy 2:1-2
^[7] 1 Corinthians 12-14, Philippians 2:1-11
^[8] Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition, 2nd ed. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1998), Kindle 324.
^[9] 2 Chronicles 7:14, Haggai 1:7, Zechariah 1:3, Matthew 4:17
^[10] Matthew 5:14-16
^[11] This book can be consulted in its original format from The New Yorker’s website or the Internet Archive,
^[12] Proverbs 31:9, 1 Peter 3:15-16
^[13] Proverbs 3:5-6, Ephesians 5:6-10, 1 John 4:1
^[14] Matthew 18:16

At the center of the book of Micah, there’s a promise of a baby who would one day be king.

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.

It’s a familiar passage, one we return to every Christmas as we remember the birth of Jesus. But that familiarity can sometimes keep us from heeding the original context, which can be seen in the prior verse:

Marshal your troops now, city of troops, for a siege is laid against us. They will strike Israel’s ruler on the cheek with a rod.

Assyria began by devastating the Northern tribes and has now pushed their campaign up to the gates of Jerusalem, and they have the city surrounded. It’s a siege.

During this siege, with all its fear, Micah gives a prophecy, not of present deliverance but of a baby in the distant future. His audience must have been asking themselves, what does a birth announcement have to do with our current crisis?

What’s true in the circumstances of the initial prophecy is also true of the literary shape of the book of Micah; this prophecy is the very center of the book and the climax of the center section. The rest of the book lies gathered around and focused on it like the little figurines around Jesus in our nativity sets. The book of Micah’s primary theme is injustice (cf. 2:1-2, 3:1-3, 6:8, 10-12, 7:2-3), specifically the injustice of Judah and God’s plan to set things right.^[1] A careful reading that notes the birth prophecy’s prominence prompts a similar question to the one that Jerusalem asked: What does a baby to come have to do with the rampant injustice now?

Like Micah’s original audience, we today have been asking almost the same question without realizing it. What does Christmas have to do with the Civil Rights Movement? What does Jesus have to do with social justice?

Many answers have been given, and in our divisive times, those answers are steeped in history, cultural baggage, and accusations. But Micah demands we keep asking the question. I want to survey some of the prominent answers that I see as deficient and suggest one of my own. Each answer can be summed up in a simple phrase tying the term “gospel” to the term “social justice” with a different conjunction. We’ll look at them in turn.

Gospel OR Social Justice

This group sees two opposing camps, and you can only belong to one. In evangelical circles, the most common version of this sees an emphasis on issues of social justice as being an abandoning of the gospel. There’s a historical precedent for this concern. The liberalization of the mainline denominations at the beginning of the last century coupled a forsaking of core doctrine (virgin birth, inerrancy of scripture, bodily resurrection of Jesus) and a fresh social concern. For these voices, the purpose of the church was to seek social good.

The fundamentalist movement was a response to this mistake, rightly demanding that this wasn’t a new phase of Christianity but a forsaking of it entirely. As the battle became more entrenched, fundamentalists became suspicious of even the trappings of the so-called social gospel, such as activism and concern for the poor. Emphasizing these things was seen as the beginning of a slippery slope to liberalism and thus the OR became defining.

This view, which at its heart pits orthodoxy (right doctrine) against orthopraxy (right living), cannot be reconciled with the Old or New Testament. God cared about injustice in the days of Micah and he cares today.

Gospel AND Social Justice

This group sees the church as having two primary missions: to preach the gospel and to do good in our world. Bible studies AND soup kitchens. Evangelism AND activism. For many, it’s easy to see this approach as rectifying the over-correction of the fundamentalists, and it does have an easier time reading a whole Bible. However, there’re some dangers to this approach. First, there’s the danger of perpetual multiplication. It’s like the old Monty Python sketch with the Spanish Inquisition, where every recitation of our purpose demands another thing that’s also important.

The danger of multiplication is rooted in one that’s even more problematic. To give both these terms equal emphasis inherently de-prioritizes the Gospel. We cannot be gospel-centered AND social justice-centered. This camp tends to lose this priority.

Gospel FOR Social Justice

For this camp, like the AND camp, these terms belong together. There’s a very important relationship between the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus and the social issues in our world. God’s entire plan is to bring justice (the kingdom), and he’s accomplishing this by first sending a king and then using the kingdom’s subjects in our world. In this case, the gospel is the means, and justice is the end. Again, I would suggest this is closer to the biblical message than the previous views, but this camp tends to downplay the eschatological hope of the Gospel. Instead of Jesus one day returning to establish his kingdom on earth, the church is establishing it now, and the return of Jesus is the climax of the church’s successful campaign.

This is really to misunderstand part of the good news of the Gospel. The church is not called to build the kingdom but to be a witness of its impending arrival. That witness includes living in the ways of the coming kingdom and the good works we do for our neighbors. But the only way the Kingdom comes is with the king’s return.

Social Justice FOR Gospel

This group values social justice because it creates gospel opportunities and receptiveness. They rightly prioritize the gospel, particularly in prioritizing evangelism, and see social justice pragmatically as a tool in that task. They know, and often recite, the old quip “they don’t care what you know until they know that you care.” This camp’s easy to spot because any good work is only truly good if it includes a gospel presentation. Every free lunch sack needs to include a gospel tract. For this camp, evangelism is like fishing; good works are how you bait the hook.

This approach appears to fall short of the holistic love demanded by Jesus. To rightly love, we must care about our neighbor’s whole selves, not just their souls. Those on the receiving end often feel like they’re only valued as a potential convert, a notch on the belt, instead of an image-bearer worthy of love … and unfortunately, sometimes they’re right. It’s also hard to see how this view can lead to any prophetic confrontation that may be negatively received, but that’s an important aspect of a faithful witness.

This brings us to the view that I’d suggest:

Gospel THEREFORE Social Justice

It’s not that changing the world is the gospel or that the gospel has nothing to do with change in our world. It’s that the gospel has changed us, and that changes the way we relate to our world. The gospel creates communities of mutual concern and sharing (Acts 2:44-47). God has been so generous with us that we’re generous (2 Cor. 8:9). We’re concerned for our neighbor’s soul and their supper because that’s what love does, and we’re loved by Jesus (1 John 3:16-18).

Unlike the Social Justice FOR Gospel view, social justice isn’t the bait of the gospel; it’s the byproduct. Unlike the Gospel for Social Justice view, we don’t bring the kingdom but make it manifest. We aren’t seeking to entirely change our world as much as testify to a different world, but that testimony must be not just in word but in deed and truth.

Final Thoughts

This debate is too long-standing and this presentation too brief for me to assume I’ve convinced every reader, but I hope that these terms will serve both to provide a lay of the land and give helpful language to further discussion.

God sent a baby to address an unjust world. A better answer than mine may exist, but we must keep asking the question: How does Jesus relate to social justice?

Reference

^[1] Interestingly, Isaiah does the exact same thing cf. Isa. 7.

Calling and desire, though close in emotional intensity, aren’t the same thing. I’ve known people come to serve with all the proper credentials, with holy fire, yet something was missing. Others have come to help us with a weight of family or church expectations that ultimately burnt them out. Maybe their place, in the end, was similar to the one they sought, but I fear we can do a disservice to them if we force them into a role they weren’t made for. I give them much credit for braving the call and even recognizing when it was time to move on. God honors those who walk by faith, but sadly there’ve been many casualties. Such was the case of Vincent van Gogh serving as an evangelist in the Borinage, Belgium.

In November 1878, Vincent arrived in the Borinage excited to begin his newest attempt at serving the Lord. By now, he’d known several setbacks in his professional life and was feeling the pressure from his family to find a suitable job. The ministry felt natural to him; his father and grandfather were pastors. He also served as a pastoral assistant in Isleworth, England. His few months in the London area began with great enjoyment.^[1] In November 1876, he gave his first sermon based on Psalm 119. Vincent was so happy with it that he sent a copy to his family. His thoughts, although unorganized, are doctrinally correct. His points are brilliantly illustrated in a way that would become famous in his paintings. But something troubled Vincent. A few months later, he resigned. Was it the charge of collecting money from low-income families or the rejection of his first and unrequited love? We may not know for sure, but the specter of depression clouded his mind when he left Isleworth.

Seeking Relief and Looking for His Place

Mental illness (as we would call it today) plagued the van Gogh family. Although his father and uncles had learned to live with depression by soldiering on, Vincent was more sensitive to its paralyzing effects. A good deal should be written about this struggle, especially about people in the ministry; in Vincent’s time, getting help could bring shame.^[2]Though he spent time in a few hospitals, he struggled under the weight of his thoughts and guilt at not measuring up to the expectations both he and others had placed on his life. He sought relief through hard work, letters, long walks in nature, and art. But the Bible was his most present comforter throughout his years.

Vincent also fought to find his place in life. Several of his family were art collectors. His thriving art broker uncle gave his nephew his first job. This took him from Paris to London, where he found purpose in art and isolation in professional setbacks. Vincent was stubborn. He put his entire being into whatever he loved doing. Yet, when a conflict would come, Vincent was capable of change so radical that he finished by loathing what he first adored. This could also be seen in the year he prepared to enter seminary. Though he could translate his Flemish Bible into French, English, and German, he couldn’t be bothered to learn Latin or Greek. His observation astounded his teachers, but his refusal to follow lesson plans and fierce anger kept him from advancing. But still, he desperately wanted to serve the Lord.^[3]

Ahead of His Time, Thus Silenced

Arriving as an evangelist in Belgium was a new beginning for the young van Gogh. Inspired by reading Spurgeon’s Gems, he worked tirelessly on his messages and visiting families. He slowly assimilated into the miner’s culture. That day, the evangelist was expected to bring the people up to the bourgeois standards of the middle class, to elevate their station as the Gospel elevated their souls. Vincent’s ideas were ahead of his time. He thought it best to assimilate into the culture and to become a bridge of contextualization. Like Maurice Denis, a French apologist and artist, wrote a few years after Vincent died, “What are we looking for in religion? Neither morality, nor moving music, nor that mystery that flatters our intimate aspirations. No, we’re looking for the truth.”^[4] Vincent wanted to share the truth with a suffering community by embodying it and showing them the truth in love.

One day, Vincent’s descent into their world became life-changing; he accompanied a miner 700 meters below the earth. He broke. He’d never experienced human suffering at that level before. At the time, the horror of the Northern European mines denounced by Dickens and Zola was unknown and often glamourized to the general public, who lived far from their reality. Vincent became one of the first observers, and in his utter shock at the dehumanizing conditions, he learned he could express himself to his brother and superiors better in his drawing than through words. They were moved, despite the crude sketches made before his artistic training. His heart spoke through his pencil. Christian philosopher Calvin Seerveld put it this way: “No cruel mistral wind ever tortured the clouds and grains field of the southern Provence in France as Van Gogh’s madly sentient eye and hand put them on canvas, but no one can quibble why this brush stroke is here and not there, for the works have an impressive metaphorical consistency.”^[5] At this moment, his nascent calling was revealed through a trembling hand trying to express the injustice he’d discovered.

As time passed, a springtime mining accident took the lives of 121 miners. Crushed by the tragedy, he poured himself into his work, eating next to nothing and giving away his clothes to the point where he was forced to make a shirt out of paper. His hosts began to worry that children would mock him in the street, and word got out to his mission that he looked homeless. Eventually, he would be let go and quarrel with his brother resulting in a year of silence between them. He left the Borinage feeling rejected by his church and alienated from his family but finally walked toward his true calling. He devoted his life to expressing, witnessing, and preaching through art. Though his departure was mixed with sorrow and hope, his life would be prematurely snuffed out ten years later.^[6]

Ultimately, Speaking through His Paintbrush

In the years that followed, he transformed into the artist we know. His Scripture references are fewer, he begins writing to his brother in French, and he becomes to the artistic world what he sought to do with his mission to the miners. The weight of his family’s disapproval was inescapable; he never shook the guilt of relying on his brother Theo for living expenses while waiting to sell his paintings. And yet his brush spoke. Artist Makoto Fujimura wrote, “Time spent in consideration of Vincent’s famous Starry Night can become a journey into (his) heart … The painting is set in Arles, France. Notice that at the very center of the painting is a white Dutch Reformed church … The church is the only building in the painting that is completely dark. Herein lies Vincent’s message, particular to the reality of being a border-stalker: the Spirit has left the church—at least the building—but is active in nature.”^[7] If only Vincent had a brother in the faith to walk with him through the valleys of artistic wandering. What paintings might we have today that move us like Starry Night?

Vincent’s story is one of loss for the Church. But it’s also one of hope if taken with an eye open to those around us. There are many Vincents in the Church looking for their place. Although we may not have recognized them initially, been frustrated because they just don’t fit the mold, or given them the patience or help they needed, it’s not too late.

I’m reminded of a description of Jesus that I think Vincent would’ve painted one day if given a chance. Isaiah 42:3 “A bruised reed He will not break, and smoking flax He will not quench; He will bring forth justice for truth.” This comes from the Servant passages. In it, we prophetically see the heart of Jesus, even in laying down His life to heal our brokenness. The Lord teaches us to live like Him through the Gospel, helping people while encouraging them to follow Him.

References

^[1] Van Gogh’s letters are translated into English and are available at https://vangoghletters.org/vg/
^[2] Unfortunately, I can’t develop this theme as I’d like, but I’d encourage anyone, whether in ministry or not, who knows the struggle of mental illness, not to go it alone. Getting help is wise and courageous. I’d also suggest reading Matt Kottman’s three-part article.
^[3] For most of this biographical part, I heavily leaned into this work:
David Haziot, Van Gogh, Éditions Gallimard, 2007, p. 13-131
^[4] Maurice Denis, Nouvelles Théories sur l’art moderne, sur l’art sacré, 1914-1921, L. Rouart et J. Watelin, Éditeurs, p. 182
^[5] Calvin Seerveld, A Christian Critique of Art and Literature, WIPF & STOCK, 1995, p.46
^[6] Bruno Voutera, Van Gogh au fond de la mine, Éditions La Voix, 2013 p. 3-64
^[7] Makoto Fujimura, Culture Care: Reconnecting with Beauty for Our Common Life, InterVarsity Press. Kindle Edition, p. 74

Welcome to “Voices from Ukraine”, a mini-series inside look at the resilience, faith, and service of Calvary Chapel believers in Ukraine during the difficult months since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in February 2022.

In this special edition, we sit down with Tanya Kotelenets from a church in eastern Ukraine. Kotelenets shares her harrowing experiences from the first days of the war – the fear, uncertainty and eventual decision to flee the city with her church community. Despite difficult conditions, God’s provision and grace sustained them.

Though she returned home months later, the impact of war remains. Kotelenets’s husband ministers at funerals almost daily, including that of a coworker who recently died in combat. Our listeners are reminded that all parts of the body of Christ feel the suffering of others.

Kotelenets asks for prayers for the children enduring so much change and loss, and for strength to continue living through this conflict with hope. If you’d like to support relief efforts in Ukraine, donations can be made through calvaryglobalnetwork.com/relief

Join us next time for another firsthand account of courage, sacrifice and faith continuing to burn bright within the Calvary Chapel family amidst the darkness of war.

If you spend any amount of time online or on social media, you are likely aware of the global microscope that is currently examining the Church on every possible platform and medium. Wolves in sheep’s clothing are being exposed. Christian women are sharing their experiences in church cultures that were deeply rooted in misogyny. Purity Culture has met its reckoning. Toxic positivity is being unpacked. Victims of spiritual and sexual abuse are finding their voice.

And while this movement taking place where all that has been hidden in the dark is now being brought into the light is both necessary and long-awaited, one might find themself spiraling into feelings of disillusionment and disappointment—due to the Church’s failure to line up with the good, loving, and righteous God that it claims to represent.

Please allow me to begin this series forthrightly, and with as much candor as possible:

Are there abusers and predators who utilize the Church as a hunting ground for their own volatile appetites? Yes, there are.

Do churches exist where Scripture is twisted and weaponized to enforce abusive ideologies and exert control over congregations? Indeed.

Have narcissists been drawn to the pulpit, not for love of the Word, but for love of the sound of their own voice? Yes.

Has there been accounts of women being subjugated, and written off as weak, inferior, and unqualified to be taken seriously within ministry, in an attempt to undermine and diminish the God-given dignity and autonomy of the female sex? … Uh yeah. Like, all the time.

And for these very reasons, and many others, there are those who would like nothing more than to tear the Church down, brick by brick.

The Reality and Risk of Engaging in the Church

There is an extensive history of corrupt men and women infiltrating the Body of Christ, and it dates back to the days of Paul. In fact, Jesus Himself warned us through His own parables that this would be the case. (See Matthew 13:24-32, 47-52.)

The inescapable truth is countless ugly, painful, and downright horrific acts have been committed within church walls. And friends, as corruption and abuse within the Church continue to be brought to the light, and the topic of church-hurt increases in discussion and acknowledgment, it can be easy to grow weary in the faith.

As a believer, missionary, and pastor’s wife, I can attest that many of the deepest wounds in my own heart were exacted at the hands of my fellow Christians and co-laborers. So, I speak with compassion and understanding when I say that sometimes it can seem safer to stay at arms length from the church; after witnessing or experiencing the ugly side of humanity within churches, one might easily find themself ready to withdraw from Christian spaces.

Indeed, there is emotional security in exchanging communal gathering, for tuning in online. There is less risk when minimizing our involvement and trading fellowship between members of the Body for the position of user and product. Spiritual abuse and hypocrisy have done immeasurable damage to the lives of believers. Additionally, legalism and the misuse of Scripture have choked and snuffed out the passion from even the most ardent followers of Jesus, leaving so many feeling raw, jaded, and embittered.

Yet it is for all of the reasons listed above that we must lean in, rather than pull away.

Yes, playing the role of the consumer provides comfort and security, but how will we make crucial changes in the culture if we remain safely far removed from the central inner workings of the Body?

The Price That Was Paid—So That We Might Gather

The Church is a precious thing.

Not the buildings.

Not ornate pulpits or floor-to-ceiling projectors.

Nor the stages and stained-glass windows.

But the Church, being the gathering and the fellowship of those who follow Jesus, is precious beyond measure.

I recognize that, for many, it might not feel that way right now.

In order to regain perspective on why this entity that we call the Body, is indeed invaluable, we must first look at that Holy day on the hill of Golgotha, where Jesus poured Himself out for the sake of our redemption.

The One who spoke light into existence, was spit upon, degraded, and denied even the modesty of a loincloth, was stripped naked and humiliated. The same One who commands the morning sun and causes the dawn to know its place (Job 38:12) allowed Himself to be blindfolded and beaten, receiving blow after blow, all while in the most vulnerable state possible.

He, who formed man out of the dust and designed every function, every nerve, every atom that would constitute the human anatomy, subjected Himself to be tortured and laid bare, with every limb and every inch of His Holy body lacerated and ripped open. Holding nothing back, the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, the One who has existed outside of time and space, and holds entire galaxies in the palm of His hand, gave every last drop of blood that His earthly body possessed.

There was nothing that Jesus withheld in humanity’s rescue. He gave all: His safety, His dignity, His blood. His last breath.

What Jesus did at the cross made salvation available to any and all who put their trust in Him. Jesus triumphed over the chaos, destruction, and havoc that sin wrecks in the lives of mankind, and through His own death, made a way to offer us new and eternal life – “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

In addition to giving us unprecedented access to the Creator and His throne room of Grace, Jesus set forth into motion a revolution that would turn the world upside down. He became the foundation, and the cornerstone, of an innovation the likes of which had never been seen before: the Church.

Moving Forward

When I was sixteen, I learned of the German Count Zinzindorf and the Moravian Church that helped change the world almost three hundred years ago, and I have often reflected on the words of two, particularly extraordinary, Moravian missionaries. In 1732, a couple of young men—free European men—sold themselves into slavery so that, for the sake of the gospel, they might access and reach three thousand enslaved men, women, and children kept on an island in the West Indies. This island was owned by a British atheist who had refused to allow any pastors or clergymen to breach the shores of his odious isle-wide plantation. On October 8th, as the two Moravians boarded the ship that would deliver them to a life of captivity and the total loss of all liberty and personal security, their families gathered, waving and shouting their goodbyes to the departing vessel. And it was then that these young missionaries raised their voices from the deck and proclaimed the last words that their loved ones would ever hear them say:

“May the Lamb that was slain, receive the reward for which He suffered.”

Friends, the Church is the direct result of Christ’s work at the cross. The Church is not a building with fog machines and a charismatic speaker. It is not giant crowds and big events. It is not even the location where you may have been hurt or let down.

The Church is the people, the followers of Jesus, whose lives were bought at the highest cost.

In Acts 20:28, Paul charges the leaders, pastors, and overseers to take heed as Shepards of God’s church—which He purchased with His blood. This is how seriously God takes His Church. And this is why, if we call ourselves followers of Jesus, we cannot abandon the assembly of the saints.

Jesus bled, not just for our salvation, but for our ability to meet in worship, fellowship, and encouragement. He desires for us to do life with each other, praying for one another and bearing each other’s burdens.

We know that before the cross, the Church did not exist. The people of Israel worshiped Yahweh in their temples, separate and removed from Gentiles. Spiritual segregation was a maze of layers upon layers of rabbinic law and uncrossable boundaries. In contrast, when the veil was torn, and Christ died and rose again, He ushered in a radical shift that would allow for every nation and every tribe, from every corner of the earth, to gather together, unified in love and devotion for the Messiah who delivered them from sin and darkness.

As we navigate our faith and our affiliations during this movement of exposure, let us not turn our backs on the very Church that Christ purchased with His blood. Likewise, for those of us who are in ministry, let us remember that placing our heads in the sand does no one any good, and denial will not make the issues go away.

The way that we will make the vital and significant changes that our church cultures desperately need first requires honesty from some, and perhaps a willingness to forgive from others. From there, we can start working to bring about the healthier functions that we want to see, which can only happen through our readiness to get more involved.

IF we want to see more accountability and safeguards to protect the most vulnerable members of our congregations, we have to get engaged and advocate for those things. IF we want healthier practices and more gospel-centered culture in our churches, then we have to invest our own time and energy to be part of the work. Not everyone is called to be a pastor, but every Jesus follower is called to be in community.

The solution to the issues that our churches face is not easy or simple; it will require something from us. Maybe, that is forgiveness and a willingness to trust again. Perhaps it is the giving of time and service to a ministry. For many of those who still faithfully attend church every Sunday, maybe what is required of them, for the betterment of our church cultures, is vulnerability and the practice of letting go of the carefully crafted veneer of the “perfect Christian” or the “perfect family.”

Dissecting, disconnecting, and ultimately, tearing apart the Church due to failures and dysfunction, will not make our world any safer or any more just.

Jesus said that His people are to be the light of the world and a city on a hill that cannot be hidden. “In the same way, let your light shine before others so that they might see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:16 CSB). We cannot be that city on the hill if we abandon the Church. Instead, let us commit ourselves to the healing and the betterment of our church bodies. In the places where we see a need for change, let us invest ourselves into those very same areas.

This article is the first, an introduction actually, to a series of articles where I would like to break open some of the points of concern that I, myself, have, or have discussed with others, as well as how we might put the necessary work into practice.

‘Cause it’s worth it.

And I hope you will consider with me how we might be the change we wish to see.

Svieta and her husband Ruslan had two daughters and lived in Mykolaiv, Ukraine. Svieta had a flourishing business as a specialty baker, and her husband installed swimming pools. For two years before the war, Svieta and her daughters had been attending an evangelical church in Mykolaiv. Under Svieta’s gentle urging, her husband went to church with them from time to time. It made a positive impression on him, but he considered himself a traditional Orthodox Christian and was not interested in his wife’s version of Christianity.

Mykolaiv is located in southern Ukraine, not far from Kherson, a major Ukrainian city that was captured by the Russians during the first week of the war. When the war started, Ruslan quickly realized that he needed to get his family to safety. He drove them to the Moldovan border where they said goodbye (shown above), and Svieta and her daughters continued on alone. What he did not tell his family was that he also felt a responsibility to defend his country from the Russian invaders. Once his girls were safe, Ruslan returned home and enlisted in the Ukrainian army. But before that happened, he made another life-changing decision. Influenced by his wife’s faith and the teaching he had heard at her church, he prayed to Jesus, asking Him to become his Savior and the Lord of his life.

From Moldova, Svieta and her daughters made their way to Budapest, Hungary because of better educational opportunities for the girls there. We met Svieta when she became part of a weekly Bible discussion group for refugees in Budapest.

As we studied the Bible and prayed together, our small group really started to function as a church.

After he enlisted, Ruslan was quickly promoted to a position that put him in charge of a group of young soldiers. Ruslan felt a fatherly affection and responsibility for these men, calling them “my boys” in his conversations with Svieta. They were sent to fight near Kherson, where the determination and sacrifice of the Ukrainian army eventually liberated the city from the Russian occupiers. But tragically, every one of the young men under Ruslan’s command was killed. Ruslan was devastated by the loss and tormented by survivor’s guilt. Then nine months after he had escorted his family to safety, he was given military leave to go see them. Just days before that trip, he was in a car accident, a head-on collision. He was killed instantly.

Stunned and grieving, Svieta and the girls tried to make preparations to return to Ukraine for the funeral. Our little Bible discussion group came around them in their hour of need, giving them money for travel expenses and helping them find train tickets. “I don’t know how I would have made it through without them,” Svieta said. “They are like family.”

Once in Ukraine, Svieta left her daughters with relatives in the southern port city of Odesa and continued on alone to the family’s home in Mykolaiv, where she was to collect her husband’s remains and transport them back to Odesa for burial. Though every moment in Mykolaiv was risky, she also wanted to go to their apartment to pack up some things she wanted to take back to Hungary, since she did not know if she would ever get another chance. She knew she could not waste any time. Rockets were constantly flying overhead. One even smashed into a neighboring apartment building while she was gathering the things she wanted from her apartment. When she entered their apartment, the first thing she saw was a carefully packed bag, filled with all her baking supplies. Her husband had prepared it to give to her at their planned reunion, a final love note, sent from beyond the grave.

The funeral took place in Odesa on the very day that the family was supposed to have been reunited. After they took care of all their affairs in Ukraine, we were able to pick up Svieta and her daughters and drive them back to Hungary. When they arrived back in Budapest, one of the ladies in the Bible discussion group had a big pot of borsch waiting for them, and other church friends spent time with them in their apartment, playing guitar and singing worship songs together. The following week, our little refugee church community held a memorial service for Ruslan, with Svieta and her daughters sharing their memories of the man who had been such a devoted and loving husband and father. There were tears, but there was also laughter, and the family expressed gratitude for the chance to process their grief with a loving and supportive community.

The lives of these dear ladies will never be the same, but they are not giving into despair. They have added new life (in the form of an adorable puppy) to their family, and Svieta is preparing to start a baking business again. She also has another new venture. Inspired by how her Bible discussion group supported her and her family through their loss, she is on a mission to help us start similar groups for refugees in other cities around Hungary, so that no one will have to face their troubles alone and everyone can have an opportunity to meet the God who cares for the hurting.

Jesus Revolution has taken Hollywood by storm. The Lionsgate production has broken box office records, becoming the company’s highest-grossing movie since 2019, at well above $30 million. The film is based on a true story, documenting how tens of thousands of counterculture young people (hippies) came to know and follow Jesus in the late 1960s and early 70s.

The narrative revolves around the lives of four main characters: Greg Laurie (Joel Courtney, Super 8, The Kissing Booth), Cathe Martin (Anna Grace Barlow, The Big Leap, Grey’s Anatomy), Lonnie Frisbee (Jonathan Roumie, The Chosen), and Chuck Smith (Kelsey Grammer, Cheers, Frasier). Greg has seven stepdads and is a disillusioned 17-year-old living in a trailer with his alcoholic mother. Cathe is a young, pretty socialite type caught up in the hippie scene through the influence of her older sister. Lonnie is a charismatic hippie preacher, and Chuck is a middle-aged conservative pastor of a small church.

The Late 1960s and Early 2020s

The movie does a fantastic job of recreating Southern California culture as it was in the late 60s, with a beach concert featuring Janis Joplin and a pro-LSD sermon preached by none other than Timothy Leary. Naturally, the film has drawn in many Christians, as was expected. What was not expected? The number of non-religious people flocking to the theaters to see the movie. The reasons seem to be wide-ranging. The depiction of the times is authentic. The portrayals are non-judgmental, in that the characters are not condemned even though their lives are obviously a mess. And Jesus is seen as being outside of the “religious” context, gracious and welcoming, a friend of sinners, you might say. To be clear, no one plays Jesus in the film. But he is front and center, seen in the humility and love shown by Chuck Smith when he opens the doors of his church to welcome in the hippies and in the simplicity and sincerity of Lonnie Frisbee, the radical hippie preacher who “looks” like Jesus, at least how some people imagine him to look.

The movie might also resonate with so many because of the similarities to our current times. The late 1960s shares many parallels with the early 2020s. The social unrest, racism, riots, war, and drug epidemic destroying the lives of many young people seem very much like the messages we are seeing and hearing in our news feeds today.

In contrast, the film’s message is this—no matter how messed up, broken, empty, or hopeless your life may be, Jesus is the answer. Greg has given up hope of finding any real happiness or purpose. As a result, he decides to tune in, turn on, and drop out, like so many others. Just when things are spinning completely out of control, Lonnie Frisbee visits Greg’s high school campus and preaches a gospel message. Listening from a distance, not wanting to get too close to the Jesus freaks, Greg is intrigued. After wrestling with Jesus’ words, You’re either for me or against me, he gives in, surrendering himself to Christ. From this point forward, everything changes. Things are far from perfect (the movie keeps it real), but the big questions of life—Where did I come from? Why am I here? Where am I going?—have all been answered.

The Message of the Jesus Revolution Is for You

Maybe you have the same types of questions today. You feel that life is without purpose and without hope. This is understandable; after all, the world is in the same mess now as it was then. Why? What’s it all about? Is there any peace in the midst of this madness? Yes, believe it or not, there is! Jesus said, Come to me, and I will give you peace (see Matt. 11:28).

Like those in the film, in the mid-1970s, I, too, was a young, aimless, restless soul. I had tried everything the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll culture had to offer but still came up empty. I had even encountered a few Jesus freaks, and they were just a bit too freaky for me. Then one day, I randomly opened a Bible and read the following words of Jesus:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

These Scriptures struck a chord deep in my soul, and I accepted the invitation from Jesus to come. For me, just like many others, everything changed. My problems did not automatically go away, but the big questions, those that kept me up at night, were answered. The Jesus who saved untold thousands in the Jesus Revolution of the 1960s is still saving people today. He alone can give hope and bring real purpose to our lives. And he has a plan and purpose for your life. Receive him today, and watch and see what he will do.

By Jeff E. Gipe, with contributions from Mary Pero.

Like millions of others, I spent the month of February binge watching the latest season of The Chosen, written and produced by Dallas Jenkins. I enjoy how the show continues to creatively reimagine the everyday life of Jesus and His followers, particularly the women who traveled with and supported Jesus. In a recent episode (Season 3, Episode 6), Mary Magdalene and another character named Tamar are shown working together to raise funds for the ministry. Although this scene is not found in the scriptures, it did pique my curiosity: what does the Bible say about the women who traveled with Jesus?

The “Certain Women” of Luke 8

I began my search in the Gospel of Luke. Luke tends to notice and include more detail than his fellow gospel writers, and it turns out, spotlights women more than the other gospels as well. In Luke 8, we find Jesus and the twelve disciples traveling and teaching in the region of Galilee on His second tour through the area.^[1] And this time, He is not alone. In addition to the disciples, Jesus is traveling with a group of women.

“Now it came to pass, afterward, that He went through every city and village, preaching and bringing the glad tidings of the kingdom of God. And the twelve were with Him, and certain women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities—Mary called Magdalene, out of whom had come seven demons, and Joanna the wife of Chuza, Herod’s steward, and Susanna, and many others who provided for Him from their substance” (Lk 8:1–3 NKJV, emphasis mine).

Women traveling with Jesus and His disciples would have been uncharacteristic of rabbis in that day and quite radical. In fact, many rabbis refused to teach women because they were considered inferior. In their interpretation of the healing of the woman with the issue of blood, The Chosen does an excellent job of showing just how radical Jesus was (Season 3, Episode 5). According to the purity laws, she should not have even touched the hem of Jesus’ garment (Lv 15:19-23). The crowd was upset that they too could have been made unclean. But Jesus does not admonish her. Instead, He affirms and heals her, saying, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction” (Mk 5:34 NKJV).

The women with Jesus had also been healed of evil spirits and infirmities. Much like the disciples, they had been made whole and transformed by the life and ministry of Jesus. They entered into a new life of following Him. It seems however, we often overlook their presence and contributions simply because the gospels do not say as much about them as they do about the disciples. While Luke does give us some information about them, he does not tell us much. Interestingly, the gospels also never tell us any of these women doubted or denied Him, as some of the disciples did. Indeed, they would later be the ones found at the cross, burial of Jesus, empty tomb, and the first ones to share the news of Jesus’ resurrection.

According to Luke’s gospel, these women “provided for [Jesus] from their own substance,” or from their own “resources” (cf. Lk 8:3 NKJV; NLT). It is interesting to me that Luke uses the Greek word, diēkonoun, translated here as “provided,” and meaning to minister, or to serve.^[2] This same Greek word is elsewhere translated as “deacon” (cf. Mk 15:41; Acts 6:1–6). It would seem that Luke saw these women not just as those who had been healed, but as deaconesses—faithful ministers working for the Lord. And rightly so! These women were funding the needs of Jesus, the disciples, and the ministry from their own pockets. The significance of their contributions cannot be overstated.

Spotlight on Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna

Of those “certain women” providing for Jesus and serving alongside the disciples, Mary Magdalene is one of the three women named. She is mentioned twelve times in the various gospels. While she is mostly known for having been set free from seven demons, she also faithfully followed Jesus to the foot of the cross (Mk 15:40; Mt 27:56; Jn 19:25), was at His burial (Mt 27:60), visited His empty tomb (Mt 28:1), was first to see Him after His resurrection (Jn 20:14), and was the one to share the news with the disciples (Jn 20:1-18). No doubt her life was an example not only to the other women, but to the disciples as well.

Joanna is the second woman to be named in Luke 8. Her name means God is generous. As the wife of Chuza, the steward of Herod Antipas, she would have been in the upper class of society and quite wealthy. She may have had everything, but she still needed Jesus. We do not know whether Joanna was healed of infirmities or evil spirits, but in either case, she was set free and gave her life and her wealth to serve Him. Luke does not hesitate to name Joanna again as one of the women who found the empty tomb and “told all these things to the apostles” (Lk 24:10 NKJV).

The third woman named by Luke is Susanna. This is the only place where she is named. It is possible she was also with the women at the tomb, but we do not know for sure. What we do know is that she had been healed and made whole by Jesus and was a supporter of His city-to-city ministry.

Working and Serving in Response to Healing

In Hebrew, the word for “whole” is shalom. Susan Perlman, author and one of the founders of Jews for Jesus, defines it this way, “The ancient Hebrew concept of peace, rooted in the word “shalom,” meant wholeness, completeness, soundness, health, safety and prosperity, carrying with it the implication of permanence.”^[3] Today, Jews around the world still greet one another by saying, “Shalom.” It is a wish of wholeness, completeness, or peace to the one being greeted. Shalom is the type of healing these women found when they met Jesus. You might say, complete wholeness. In response, they became a part of Jesus’ ministry by traveling with Him, serving Him, and supporting the work.

While The Chosen shows the women working together to raise funds for the ministry, the Bible gives us a few more clues as to the type of work they were doing. As I have already mentioned, some of these women were wealthy and providing for Jesus and His disciples out of their own personal resources. They were giving to the ministry. No doubt these women were also telling and teaching others about Jesus, much like Anna, the prophetess who remained at the temple serving the Lord and telling everyone who was looking for redemption about Jesus (Lk 2:38).

How easy it is to overlook Luke’s later commentary of Mary who was “listening to what [Jesus] taught” (Lk 10:38 NLT). Mary’s sister Martha wanted her relegated to the kitchen, the traditional place for women of that day. But Jesus rebuked her, saying, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her” (Lk 10:41-42 NLT). Mary was being taught by Jesus—and He was not rebuking her. I do not think it is a stretch to say that He was teaching her in hopes that she would share His teachings with others.

These women were working and serving the Lord right alongside of the disciples. The Hebrew word for “work” is abad, meaning to service, service to God and to others.^[4] Of the 289 times the word abad is found in the Bible, 124 of them are translated as “worship.” In other words, Jesus transforms our work into worship. Dr. Gerry Breshears defines work this way: “Work is the gracious expression of YHWH’s creative energy in service of others to create Shalom.” These “certain women” had been transformed—healed and made whole by Jesus—and in turn, were allowing Him to turn their wealth and work into a form of worship.

Gratitude for The Chosen

I am thankful for The Chosen’s creators for their recreating and reimagining the everyday lives of Jesus and His followers, and especially for highlighting the often overlooked lives of the women. The significance of the women’s work and worship cannot be overstated—in biblical times and still today.

References

^[1] This is likely the second tour of Jesus as the disciples are mentioned; whereas in Luke 4, what is thought to be His first tour, the twelve disciples have not yet been formally chosen.
^[2] See G1247 (diakoneō) in Strong’s Greek Lexicon (NLT). Retrieved from https://www.blueletterbible.org/lexicon/g1247/nlt/mgnt/0-1/.
^[3] Susan Perlman, “What is Shalom: The True Meaning,” Jews for Jesus. Inherit magazine, August 27, 2018. https://jewsforjesus.org/publications/inherit/what-is-shalom-the-true-meaning.
^[4] Warren Baker and Eugene Carpenter, eds., The complete word study dictionary: Old Testament (Chattanooga: AMG Publishers, 2003), 794–795.