Author: Jon Partlow

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Twisted Scripture

When Peter closed out his second epistle, he gave a warning to his readers, specifically about Paul’s writings (2 Pet. 3:15-16). First, he accuses Paul of penning things that are hard to understand (coming from an apostle who wrote one of the most difficult/controversial paragraphs in Scripture [see 1 Pet. 3:18-22]). Secondly, and more importantly, he acknowledged that “ignorant and unstable” people are given to twisting Paul’s words.

What Peter was right about Paul is true about Scripture in general. Scripture can and is often abused. Paul told Timothy to “rightly divide” God’s word (i.e. “be responsible with” in 2 Tim. 2:15). John, at the conclusion of his apocalyptic revelation, warns his readers not to “add or take away” (Rev. 22:19) from the words of his writing. Ultimately, his warning is the same as Paul’s to “handle with care” God’s word (ironically, more twisting of John’s Revelation has occurred than almost any other part of Scripture).

Jesus addressed twisting Scripture in the early portion of the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5:21-48). Fueling hate in your heart breaks Scripture’s command not to murder. Lusting after a woman breaks Scripture’s command to not commit adultery. Breaking any oath is tantamount to breaking an oath directly to God. Seeking personal revenge (i.e. “eye for an eye”) abuses a directive given to judicial settings not for the common people (see Ex. 21:23-25; Lev. 24:19-20). And Scripture never taught people to hate their enemies, but just the opposite (Lev. 19:18). In every example Jesus undermines our bent to twist and manipulate Scripture in order to justify our pride or our sin; we’re just not as good as we make ourselves out to be.

Jesus confronted a blatant twisting of Scripture during his temptation by the devil (Mt. 4L1-11; Lk. 4:1-13). Satan quoted Psalm 91:11-12 to assure Jesus that God’s protective promise was on him. Jesus never argued context or meaning, but went to Deuteronomy 6:16, a warning about putting God to the test. It’s one thing to live with a faithful trust in God, but it’s another to arrogantly test God with your so-called “faith.”

While volumes have been written about the tools and guardrails needed for understanding Scripture, time and space limits this particular discussion. Clearly we’re living in a time when people’s understanding of Scripture has been moved to the front burners of life. And some of those approaches to God’s Word has had devastating results. As we try to avoid twisting Scripture to our own agenda Jesus offers at least three principles to keep Scripture straight.

First, loving God and loving each other is the ultimate command to follow (Mt. 22:34-40; Mk. 12:28-34; Lk. 10:25-27). These two commands are tied together so that how we love God is expressed in our love for each other (Jas. 2:8; 1 Jn. 4:20). And as Paul says, every other law can be summed up by loving our neighbor (Gal. 5:14). In other words, god is less concerned with our need to impress him with (said ritual), than he is about how we treat each other.

Secondly, religious rituals were made to serve us, not master us. When Jesus was confronted about Sabbath laws, not only did he claim Lordship and rule-maker over the Sabbath, but he reminded us that the Sabbath was never to be a burden to the people (Mk. 2:27-28). People are more important than the ritual. So if you’re hungry and walking through a grain field, it’s ok to pluck the grain to eat it. The spiritual disciplines and rituals have a place and role, but they are not end game. The disciplines and rituals only lead us to the End Game.

Finally, God is actually more concerned about us showing mercy than he is about our religious rituals, even if those rituals are commanded (Mt. 12:7; Lk. 6:36). When we stand before God on judgment, (I believe) we’ll beg for mercy. The level of mercy God grants us will be in direct portion to the level of mercy we’ve granted here in our lives. Being accused of showing too much mercy in the “here and now,” may be better than being accused of not showing mercy in the “then and there.”

Twisting Scripture is a complicated discussion and study. Our own bias and prejudice tend to blind our spiritual eyes to see clearly. Maybe the key to ironing out our penchant of twisting Scripture is to spray our approach with a little more humility.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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The Church in Exile

Israel was sent into exile. Their rebellious behavior – not only toward God, but also against the Babylonian Empire – forced Nebuchadnezzar’s hand. While the Babylonian king had tried to avoid playing the “exile” card, his other moves failed to squelch their resistance. When “enough was enough,” he marched his troops into Jerusalem. He razed the city, burned the temple and exiled the Judean residents to Babylon.

If the world can be turned upside down in one moment’s time, being exiled to Babylon was it. Questions were raised and the struggle for faith ensued. Was God impotent and finally lost the battle to the other gods? Were all the promises of God merely “hevel,” like a futile attempt to grasp mist? How will religious faith be expressed without the temple and sacrifice? The void of all they knew and understood could probably be summed up in their own Psalm of lament, “How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?” (Ps. 137:4).

When Peter wrote to the Christian community he chose classic Jewish language at the outset of his letter to describe his church. They were elected and chosen by God just like Moses told Israel (Deut. 14:2). But more importantly, Peter picked up on the captivity language that had been woven into the Jewish mindset to apply to the church. His two key words are strangers (NIV), to which the RSV translates as “exiled.” Also, he drops “diaspora” which the NIV translates “scattered” and the RSV says “dispersed.” While the use of “exile” is clear enough, “diaspora” was the word used to describe Israel having been dispersed/scattered throughout the world because of the exile.

The church in exile. That’s Peter description. We live in a place we don’t really belong. We’re aliens. People look at us with suspect because we don’t quite fit in. And while we’re being model citizens and good neighbors, his call for us to live holy lives (1 Pet. 1:15) runs counter to the rest of the world, who look at us in wonder. And when the world is anti-Jesus and anti-church, our refusal to lean against the world but lean into the attacks compounds their confusion (1 Pet. 2:19-23).

We feel the exile today, though for very different reasons. Because of the COVID-19 Pandemic, everyone is being forced to limit our activity and stay home. Many businesses have closed or have laid off employees. Foot traffic is limited. Money flow has slowed and in some places stopped. Social distancing has driven a society even further apart in loneliness and isolation.

Churches are far from immune. The “exile” feeling has kept us away from each other, except for those few churches standing against common sense in the midst of a pandemic. Experiencing worship and teaching has moved on line while we engage each other with words without faces. Assembly time not the same, and we know it. It’s creating a deep longing to be together and in the void we wonder what Israel wondered long ago, “Where are you, God?”

When Ezekiel witnessed the vision of God as the “wheel in the middle of the wheel (Ex. 1:1-3:15),” God was answering Israel’s deepest question. Ezekiel was part of the Exiled. At age 30 he should have begun his ministry as a priest in Jerusalem’s temple. Instead, God called him to a prophetic ministry. Imperative to his calling was God’s presence. God never stayed behind in Jerusalem while Israel was exiled. No. He moved to Babylon with them. He’d sit with them. He’d mourn with them. He’d continue to call them back to him. He’d listen to songs they sang in the foreign land. So if God’s presence was real during Israel’s exile, where do you think he is during our “feelings of exile”?

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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FAITH IN CRISIS: A Psalm of Lament for the Church

How long, O Lord? Must we cry out to your Name?
How long, O Lord? Will our pleas echo in the chamber of your throne-room?
How long, O Lord? Will you turn your face away from
We feel the social distance from you.
Every day the isolation suffers like a prison sentence.
How long will we be forced into solitude?

Every day the news is dar
As we seek to find the light.
The number sickened by COVID-19 climbs,
While the number of available PPE’s diminishes.
Unemployment rates are rising,
As businesses struggle to stay afloat.
With high school seniors, born about the time of 9-11,
Graduating in the midst of a Pandemic.
And churches no longer able to assemble;
The online experience only fills a temporary void,
Like empty calories inside empty church buildings.
How long, O Lord? Till the tide turns?

We look to you for an answer,
But what we hear is white noise.
They say, “God is punishing the Land for its sins:
By closing athletic venues for worshiping athletes;
By shutting down theaters for propping up entertainers;
By collapsing the stock market for embracing greed;
By locking down the parks for focusing on the creation instead of the Creator.”
And when they speak we fall into despair.

Hear our petitions and respond to our cries,
Like a parent who wakes in the night at their child’s cry;
Like a parent who wakes in the night at their child’s cry.
Send us your comfort for we are shaken and fearful,
For we feel abandoned;
For we feel forsaken.
We wait for you in the night,
Knowing the night is always darkest before the dawn.

What shall we do until you speak?
How shall we proceed until you act?
We shall remember your great deeds of the past,
We shall hope and live in your promises.
We shall pray diligently and passionately,
For our own confession and repentance,
And to intercede on behalf of the wounded and afflicted.
We shall sing your praises 
And we shall sing them to the top of our lungs.
We shall be your Comfort to those needing comforting,
And bring the Light to those in the darkness.

For our hope and trust is rooted in you,
And in your salvation through your Son.
As we long for a day when your people will assemble again,
We long for that Day when we assemble in your very presence.
For it is your love that sustains us,
And your grace which holds us together.
And your promise that give us hope.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)
Inspired by Psalm 13 ● Lament is a passionate expression of grief or sorrow

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The Faith Continuum: Striking the Balance Between Fear & Arrogance

“I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)

Not long ago I watched a video of someone trying to speak into the anxiety we’re experiencing as a society. He discussed the tension between fear and faith. The perspective he offered provided a single choice between two clearly defined actions: fear or faith. With lines drawn we’re given a specific choice, and the biblical narrative accentuates the two decisions: we can either act in faith or fear.  

When the disciples are crossing the Sea of Galilee in the storm and, whether Jesus is sleeping in the boat (Mk. 4:35-41) or walking on the water (Mk. 6:47-52), their reaction is the same, fear instead of faith. When Jesus is arrested, the twelve scattered into the night, choosing fear instead of faith (Mk. 14:40). The fear of the young man present was so strong he’d rather be caught naked than with Jesus (Mk. 14:51). Following the resurrection, and right before Jesus appeared to them, ten of the disciples were hiding behind locked doors in fear of the Jews (Jn. 20:19). If they came after Jesus, they’re coming after the twelve.

We know fear. It paralyzes our faith and keeps us from stepping out of the boat and onto the water. Once walking in faith, it draws our eyes off of Jesus and onto the waves so that we sink. Fear keeps us from making decisions. Doubt and guilt jump on board for fear tells us, “what if the alternative we make is the wrong choice?” So we resort to a “no-decision” believing it’s the safest decision. And in the process, faith is pushed to the corner of our lives where it simply collects dust.

For the longest time I saw fear and faith as the only options. I now feel it’s more complicated. First, while fear stands on one side of faith, arrogance stands on the other. Arrogant pride is often harder to dissect for it comes off as confidence. And the assurance is not in God, but self. It does not point to God but to self. Samson thumbing his nose at God and his parents by violating his Nazarite vow (see Judges 14:3 which should be translated, “she’s the right one in my eyes”). Jesus told the parable of the two men going to the temple to pray, and the prideful one bragged about his piety and measured his spirituality against the guy next to him (Lk. 18:9-14). When the devil tempted Jesus, he quoted from Psalm 91 (ironically, a Psalm that many have posted on FaceBook), tempting Jesus to jump to his “death.” Jesus refused the bait and warned the devil of putting God to the test (Lk. 4:9-11).  Jesus’ challenges us to seek humility, for if not on your own, God will ensure humility (Lk. 18:14).

But the second realization is that faith is all about a continuum, as degrees are present on either side of faith. The father in Mark 9 had a level of faith, but his faith was somewhere between faith and fear. Peter had faith, but when he promised to die with Jesus (Mk. 14:29), his faith was somewhere between faith and arrogance. While we aim for faith, we generally find ourselves fluctuating between fear and faith or faith and arrogance.

So here we stand in faith, which is now feeling like a moving target. And it is. And it’s always felt like a moving target, not because God moves it but we move it. Faith’s “move” occurs because we fluctuate between fear and arrogance. Faith “moves” because of our sinful nature will not allow us to remain steady. So in truth, faith is constant, we are not.

So how do you know where you stand? If you’re even asking this question, you’re probably closer to acting in faith than you think. If you’re pointing the spotlight on others and off of yourself, you’re probably standing closer to faith than you think. If your biblical assurance is mixed with the humble reality of “I could be wrong,” then you’re probably drawn to faith more than you think. If you have a heart to serve your neighbor, then you’re inching your way to faith more than you think. If you speak in confessional tones, then you’re probably nearer to faith than you think. If you make decisions based on the good of others more than what’s good for you, then your edging closer to faith more than you think.

“I do believe,” was the cry of the father. It’s our cry too as we continue to walk in faith without fear or arrogance.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)