Thinking-Christianly

If you can write a best-selling diet book or design a simple device guaranteed to reduce belly fat, you may become wealthy. Supplements, exercise devices, and advice attract a lot of dollars from people who need help to deal with temptation and the consequences of failure. When you or I are sick of failing, we will open our wallets to find some advice, philosophy, gimmick, or shortcut to help us overcome in our battle against calories, anger, crabgrass, arcane software commands, defiant children, or signs of aging. This battle with various forms of temptation means good business for entrepreneurs who find a way to sell us something that will help us battle more effectively.

In the history of the church, some have turned to severe fasting, self-denial, and the rejection of many good gifts God has given. Others have sought conquest in solitude. Benjamin Franklin compiled a list of behaviors he did not like about himself and labored to eradicate them one-by-one through self-effort alone. None of these prescriptions have proven magically effective in the battle with sin. It’s a persistent challenge for all of us.

Unfortunately, many of us simply surrender in the battle against the challenges that the Bible calls sins. We come to the conclusion that righteousness is either unattainable or for people who are wired dramatically different than we are. Sometimes simply redefine evil to exclude anything we commonly do. We attain righteousness through redefinition.

When Moses gave the core of the Decalogue to the Jews who had been freed from bondage in Egypt, God accompanied the message with frightening supernatural acts. Through Moses, He told the people, “Do not be afraid, God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning.” (Exodus 20:20) This echoes the common refrain in the Old Testament that “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” (See Psalm 111:10.)

Today the idea of fearing God is viewed as antithetical to the Christian gospel. The idea is that we should be so enmeshed in His love that fearing him is unthinkable. Some argue that because Christ died for us, fearing God is misplaced. But Paul said that he knew what it was to fear God. (See 2 Corinthians 5:11.) Peter commanded it in 1 Peter 2:17. An angel commands it in Revelation 14:7.

God understood in the days of Moses, as he understands today, that our ability to resist sin is linked to the presence of this kind of fear or inspired awe that we have in our hearts toward him. The sad truth is that it is easy to justify sin when I fight it on a human level. I can excuse my behavior when I don’t see much damage as a result of my choices. It doesn’t always look evil and ugly and profane. It can actually look harmless, and even good. But when I place it against a perfectly holy God who defines sin thoroughly and repeatedly in the Bible, it takes on a new kind of wretchedness. Set against the immeasurable gift of life through the horrid death of Christ on my behalf, it becomes a ghastly response to his purity and his kindness.

By elevating our respect and fear of God (in the context of our relationship with Christ) we might unlock one of the doors to the obedience Jesus calls us to. In an age when the culture is quick to mock Jesus every time our failures become public, it is certainly worth some consideration.

Words are powerful things. It can be painful to see powerful words used to slash and tear into a heart. An extreme example might be a drunken father who sneers at his young daughter and predicts, “You’re worthless. You’ll always be worthless. I wish you were never born. The world would have been better if we’d aborted you.” The love and grace of God and caring people can correct the false message of that kind of verbal abuse. But the task is not a small one because the damage can be great.

All of us have words we remember that told us false things about ourselves—either good or bad. The enemy of our soul uses those lies to obscure the truth of God’s appraisal of us. We can develop a false sense of security and an inflated ego if the words stroke our egos and never confront us with our true moral guilt. A spoiled child who becomes a self-centered bully as an adult may continue to believe that the world revolves around him. On the other hand, we can sink into the bog of worthlessness if the words we hear highlight our failures and never speak of the potential we have in life. We can be exceedingly successful yet feel immense inadequacy as we replay the criticisms, barbs, and jealous remarks of others.

The wonder of the Bible is that it speaks of the human condition with incredible accuracy. It can be exceedingly blunt in its assessment of the human condition. Psalm 143:2 states, “for no one living is righteous before you.” Solomon insisted, “There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins.” (See Ecclesiastes 7:20.) The Bible accurately records the rape of Tamar, David’s scheme to kill Uriah, and Peter’s denial of Jesus. The pages of scripture reflect God’s clear understanding of human pride, rebellion, and stubbornness.

Yet the other part of the Bible’s message is that we are fallen, but wonderful. We are made in the image of God himself and exceedingly precious to him. The proof of our value is reflected in the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf. Romans 5:8 states, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” We have a value that our alienation from God and his moral goodness does not eradicate. Jesus’ death on the cross proves that we are not trash.

The balance of honesty with hope that we see in the Bible is found in no other philosophical system or religion. It speaks to our true condition and yet reminds us of the future that can be ours through the gifts we can have by faith in His Son. The paradox is that the one who is most offended by our sin is the one who offers us the greatest gift through the sacrifice of Jesus.

Of this message Christians should not be ashamed. It may not be popular, but thankfully it remains true.

When evil touches our lives, we search for answers. If God is powerful, why does he not obliterate evil? This question and others like it come to the mind of nearly everyone during the course of life. Both devout Christians and agnostics wrestle with the reality that God, if he exists, does not exterminate evil.

Few stop to ask how God might prevent evil in our modern world. He could strike a potential murderer dead a second before he pulls a trigger. He could paralyze a child abductor seconds before snatching a young girl. Those tactics might work. But what would he do about the more garden variety of evil that all of us dabble in? For example, if all unholy thoughts, attitudes, and actions are evil in God’s sight, he would have to police our minds and our emotional choices as well as our actions. For God to prevent all evil would put monumental restraints on our ability to make authentic choices. He certainly could do that, but it would change the essence of who we are.

Though the patriarch Joseph may not have possessed thorough answers to such questions, he was aware that God could use evil behavior for his purposes. When Joseph’s brothers asked for his forgiveness for their crime of selling him into slavery, he said, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good, to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” Joseph had the courage to look beyond his own pain and betrayal and see a purpose that was bigger than himself.

In Exodus 9:15 God speaks through Moses about the land of Egypt and the plagues that had fallen on the land. Judgment in the form of blood, flies, frogs, gnats, animal disease, and boils had not changed the mind of Egypt’s Pharaoh. As God predicts yet another disaster in the form of a massive hailstorm, he tells Pharaoh why he doesn’t ‘cut to the chase’ and simply destroy the nation of Egypt in a moment. “For by now I could have stretched out my hand and struck you and your people with a plague that would have wiped you off the earth.” In the next verse God adds, “But I have raised you up for this very purpose, that I might show you my power and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.”

Tolerance culminating in judgment does get our attention. About forty years after the plagues Rahab spoke of the impact of these events. She said, “I know that the Lord has given this land to you and that a great fear of you has fallen on us, so that all who live in this country are melting in fear because of you.” (See Joshua 2:9.) Even today the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah has become symbolic for the wrath of God against men.

Fortunately, the God of the Bible does not seem to thrill in the frequent obliteration of those who defy him. Were he more inclined to do so, I suspect the human population of the planet would be much smaller. Instead, he responds to our evil ways with astounding grace and patience—even as he leverages our misdeeds for his ultimate purposes. The greatest example of that is the way God allowed jealousy, lust for power, and warped theology to contribute to the working out of salvation made possible through the sacrifice of his Son. (See Acts 2:23.)

Because we do not see the outworking of some grand plan in the trials and injustices of ordinary life, we tend to assume that such a plan does not exist. And life in the trenches can be discouraging. Waiting to unravel the details that impact our lives is a constant challenge. We want to know now. We want to see the relevance today. We want to fit the pain and injustice into the grand mosaic. Though we may not have answers for specific personal challenges, God’s word does give us glimpses into the deeper reality that his purposes underlie the working out of history. Until the day comes when those answers are made plain, we are called to trust the Father, even as Christ did. Such confidence will be worth it.

Christians who believe in the truth of Jesus’ statement that he is the only way to eternal life take comfort in his bold and exclusive assertions. He said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12) He argued, “If you do not believe that I am the one I claim to be, you will indeed die in your sins.” (John 8:24) He repeatedly pointed to his death and substitutionary atonement as the only means to reconciliation with his Father. Jesus claimed, “No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” (Matthew 11:27) When these claims are examined, they form a consistent affirmation that eternal life, according to Jesus, is not found through any other means or along any other path. It is rooted in a relationship with him.

Those who take such claims seriously can find clarity in their own spiritual journey as they examine the teaching of Christ and his disciples. They can measure their response against his statements and the testimony of his disciples as recorded in the New Testament.

The quandary, and sometimes the heartache, comes in trying to understand the spiritual condition of loved ones. It can be difficult to know where someone stands relative to Jesus offer of salvation. This is especially true if they never talk about such things. This is the, “Is he or isn’t he?” question. The bottom line is that we don’t know in such cases where there was no spiritual profession. God alone sees into the soul of those who are silent before others.

The Bible does give us the right to draw some inferences, however. Moral and philanthropic behavior is not unique to Christians. But it is one of the pointers that may suggest authentic faith. The first epistle of John is packed with polarities that offer some detail about those who have eternal life and those who do not.

John properly links his understanding of salvation to our relationship with Jesus. (See 1 John 5:11-13.) Yet he goes beyond that assertion to offer all kinds of tests for authentic faith. There are certain clear things people do that exclude them from the kingdom of heaven, such as denying Jesus’ claims about himself and his identity. Other kinds of behavior evidence a lack of trust in Christ. For example, John writes, “This is how we know who the children of God are and who the children of the devil are: Anyone who does not do right it not a child or God; nor is anyone who does not love his brother.” (1 John 3:10) This is a negative test. It describes some of those who are out of the running. It looks back at John’s earlier statement that “if we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie.” (1 John 1:6) He contends, “No one who denies the Son has the Father; whoever acknowledges the Son has the Father also.” (1 John 2:23)

The person who has an authentic transforming relationship with Jesus Christ stands out in some of the ways John describes. The more of these qualities that are evident, the more we can suspect that a spiritual transformation may be at the center of things. Conversely, when they are absent, we have the right to ask serious questions about any claims that the person in question is a maturing Christ-follower. The force of John’s argument is not to make us arbiters of the destiny of others or to proclaim doom on some. It’s to strive to conform to these benchmarks ourselves, by God’s grace. And it’s to lift up these markers as the pattern in the church.

The eternal destiny of another is not ours to determine. That is God’s prerogative, built on his knowledge of their response to his expectations and commands as recorded in the Bible. What we do know is the kind of life God calls us to. And we know if we’re pursuing that reality by faith and dependency on Christ or just playing games. It is that knowledge that can give us assurance or speak appropriate warnings into our lives. As we apply what we learn, we become better witnesses to those who live in what we view as a spiritual “no-man’s land” where their response to God is difficult for us to quantify.

With the advent of CGI, filmmakers now can add a new sense of realism to scenes of catastrophic destruction. Because of this capability, there seems to be a thrill in destroying as much of the earth as possible in upcoming films. The previews of 2012 depict the destruction of many of the physical landmarks of world capitols as part of the demise of the planet.

It’s interesting that filmmakers in the most affluent nation on earth seem preoccupied with the end of all things. Part of the motive is certainly box office profits. But it may also reflect the fact that despite our technological advances, we are still aware that life on earth is fragile and temporary.

Some in the culture almost celebrate in the prospect of global destruction. It is the earth’s payback for mankind’s crimes against terra firma or whatever gods or forces influence life in the cosmos. We get what’s coming to us for tossing McDonald’s wrappers in the national forest or building an interstate between Omaha and Chicago. Our culture avoids the concept of sin, but one wonders if there is not a significant sense of guilt that remains. It’s often not personal guilt for individual moral failure, but an indictment on the culture that is less threatening to the individual ego. It leads to the conclusion that collectively we have not been good stewards and that an end will come.

For some, the fascination with apocalyptic themes is built on pure pessimism. It’s the feeling of personal despair, disappointment, and anger toward injustice raised to the power of humanity in general. The ‘sky is falling’ mantra of the news media fuels this kind of hopelessness that states, “Let the end come now and relieve me from the anxiety of worrying about it.” And in the background, hedonism tends to rule as the clock ticks toward the inevitable end.

The Bible often speaks of the end of this age, but in terms much different from the spirit we see in modern films. Through Peter, God reveals that there will come a divinely appointed end to the world as we know it. “That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat.” (See 2 Peter 3:12.)

But the spirit of God’s revelation differs from modern pessimism in two key ways. First, it comes as a personal holy God closes a chapter on his dealings with man in order to lead to the next chapter. For those who trust God there is “a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.” The events of the future are linked to the God who created, loves, and judges mankind fashioned in His image. They are not the byproduct of an impersonal menacing universe.

The second aspect of the revelation that is different from some of the modern apocalyptic pessimism is that God calls his people to exemplary living. The knowledge of such things is not to lead to indifference, brutish glee, or hedonism. Peter asks the question, “Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be?” (See 2 Peter 3:11 .) His answer: “You ought to live holy and godly lives.” Apocalyptic teaching was given to promote a pursuit of God himself. It reminds us that the choice to live in the glory of the knowledge of God is the wisest thing we can do during our tenure on earth. No other pursuit offers the payback we can have from living our lives for our creator and redeemer. In fact, Peter ends his second letter with the command, “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

Peter understood that the key to a life that is rich and rewarding in a world that will not endure forever is bound up in the pursuit of the one who lived among us. His death and resurrection opened the door to an eternal relationship that puts the fleeting moments of our mortal life in perspective. God created us for something infinitely richer than anything we can know in this life. And as we respond by faith and repentance to the gift of life in Christ, we tap into a rich way of living that no apocalyptic scenario can threaten.

I was watching a commercial the other day and the actress in the commercial was celebrating how the product was able to give her something like “digestive fulfillment.” In all the dreams and goals I’ve set in my life, somehow I missed out on being digestively fulfilled, but now that too can be mine—for a fee. The commercial got me to thinking about the way we package goods, concepts and services. And the gospel.

We live in a culture where packaging of ideas and consumer goods becomes more important than the contents. It’s a reflection of the modern tendency to prefer style over substance. Billy Mays became a pop figure because of the style in which he promoted Oxyclean and other products to the population. Cereal boxes magnify the image of the product and include the disclaimer “image enlarged to show the texture.” I don’t think we’re that preoccupied with the texture of something we’re going to drown in milk. It’s all about the sale.

This cultural tendency shapes the church more than it should. Yesterday many pastors spent hours thinking through the biblical text and its meaning, studying to give the most accurate reflection of what God said to the Jews of the exodus the residents of Capernaum, or the faith community in Rome. Today it’s more likely that they will spend hours looking for YouTube clips that will entertain or illustrate a sermon point, or tweaking a 50-slide PowerPoint presentation so that it has a huge wow factor.

I’m not suggesting that either of these innovative tools is bad in itself. I’ve used both. My concern is that there has been an unhealthy shift in the mind of the American evangelical community and its leaders. It is easy for us to spend much of our time worrying, planning, and resolving issues of style. In this race to maximize the presentation of our message, we reveal where we think the real power lies. It’s in our herculean efforts to present our message in ways that cannot be ignored. The only way we can impact others the way we want is to package the message in irresistible wrappings.

As I reflect on this tendency that is common to us who call ourselves Christ followers, I find the argument less than convincing.

It doesn’t prove true on historical grounds. None of the creativity we can put into the message of the Bible can compare with the spectacular things God did during the exodus. The Jews of Egypt witnessed amazing plagues and their aftermath. They participated in the Red Sea rescue. They ate food that was provided supernaturally every day for years. They saw a pillar of cloud and one of fire lead them in the desert for a generation. All that makes a clip from YouTube or a slick presentation using EasyWorship seem a bit lame in comparison. But what was the result? They displayed the same doubt, disinterest, and self-centeredness that some who come in contact with the message of the evangelical church manifest in their own lives today. There is no guarantee that the package can overcome those barriers in any of our hearts that keep us from trust, sacrifice, or obedience.

The emphasis of style is also not reflected in the ministry of Christ and others in the gospels. When we think of John the baptizer, we often visualize what he did. Wearing strange clothes, he railed against the indifference of the day and baptized those who would listen to him in the Jordan. His method was so different and unique that he earned a following. He found a niche market.

Luke’s record suggests otherwise. Before water was applied to anyone, Luke reminds us, “The word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the desert.” (See Luke 3:3.) The foundation of John’s ministry was not his flamboyant or unique style. His ministry was grounded on the reality that God spoke to him. It was the message that made the difference. It had power because of its source and not because of the way it was packaged. The external elements of John’s ministry were significant in that they had relevance to his role as the forerunner of the Messiah. But they were not the pillars upon which his success rested. He echoed the true voice of God as he spoke to his generation. Any lasting impact came from that reality and not from the other things that accompanied his work.

If modern evangelicalism is going to bear fruit for God, it needs to ground itself again in the word God gave. It is not our enhancements to it that make it powerful. We should not be boring or arcane in our methodology. But godliness and spiritual transformation are not dependant on style. It comes from the truth God has preserved for us in the Bible. Whenever we act as though that is inadequate for our time, we abandon the key tool for personal and cultural transformation for alternatives that will leave us weak, impoverished, and ineffective.

The last decade saw the creation of a new class of criminal behavior commonly referred to as “hate crimes.” It brings a new level of accountability for criminal behavior—mostly on a national level—based on the identification of hatred as a motivation in specific instances.

Such legislation correctly understands that behavior already prohibited by existing laws (against murder, abuse, assault, etc.) is often triggered by hatred. Objective evidence can be brought to bear for actions. Assault, identity theft, hit and run, embezzlement, extortion, and even speeding can be measured by objectively assessing actions. But this creation of a new class of crime, based on the perception that hatred is present, presumes much that cannot be proven.

Hatred is a feeling. That creates a critical issue. We can infer its presence or absence when we look at actions. But we can also wrongly presume the presence of a feeling based on our subjective thoughts. In Joshua 22 the tribes that returned to settle on the eastern side of the Jordan built an altar on the border of Canaan. The other tribes marshaled for war against them, assuming that this was a competing altar. It wasn’t until they talked that they found out that the motive was not to set up a counterfeit religious system. Their misunderstanding of motive almost led to a needless war.

Sitcoms often play on the mistaken belief one character has about the thoughts and feelings of another. Anyone who is married understands the ease with which we can falsely assume that a look or a word reflects a feeling of displeasure, dislike, disagreement, or condemnation. Counselors urge couples in stress to communicate because marriage conflicts often arise from faulty assumptions.

Scripture insists that we are not capable of understanding all of our own motivations, much less those of others. Jeremiah 17:9 states that the heart is deceitful, and asks the question, “Who can understand it?” On the day of global judgment, according to 1 Corinthians 4:5, God will disclose the motives of men’s hearts. He alone assesses such things accurately.

The ability to wisely enforce hate crime legislation presumes the ability to detect hatred. And then it presumes the right to punish that feeling. (We already have statutes that deal with the actions.) I would challenge both of those assumptions.

If we criminalize feelings, all of us would be incarcerated—for all of us experience some feelings that are selfish, malevolent, mean-spirited, judgmental, and unholy. More importantly, the criminalizing of the emotion of hatred assumes that those who enforce the law can detect it.

Does the charge of hatred apply to a football player who trash talks and intimidates the lineman across from him, and who uses every muscle in his 250 pound body to totally crush his opponent? Does it apply to the mother who loathes the man who raped and murdered her five year old, who publically wishes him to “rot in hell”? Does it apply to the victims of Bernie Madoff, who have expressed a desire for intense endless punishment for his financial crimes? Does it apply to the crusader who devotes her life to the capture of those who exploit and abuse missing children? It is characteristic of the attourney who is a zealous fighter against those who produce child pornography?

Much of the concern about this kind of legislation focuses on thequestion, “When is verbalized passion that never crosses the boundary of illegal action subject to hate crime legislation?”  Crimininalizing emotion is a dangerous step because it creates the possibility that the expression of strongly held convictions could fall under the umbrella of its censure. We already have evidence of this in other western countries who have adopted similar statutes.

The code of conduct in ancient Israel offers a better approach. Like most American law, it segregates actions from feelings. The Decalogue condemns coveting, but the legislation of Deuteronomy condemns stealing, not coveting itself. Actions can be objectively measured, assessed, and punished if necessary. Feelings are only fully known to God and not under the jurisdiction of rulers. Any code that puts such things in the hand of man usurps the place of God to its own peril.

It’s rewarding when God graciously gives you a new perspective on a text of scripture that you may have read many times. Recently I read a common phrase in the Old Testament that triggered some new thoughts.

In 2 Kings, chapter 25, the Bible summarizes the three month reign of Jehoiachin as king of Judah. Verse 9 states, “He did evil in the eyes of the Lord, just as his father had done.” On the surface, it is a sad reminder that he was no more loyal to the covenant between the nation and God than his father. He repeated the same mistakes.

But consider something else. The Bible says of him, “He did evil in the eyes of the Lord.” My guess is that he may not have done evil in the eyes of his peers or the eyes of his culture. It could be that his ethics, values, and priorities were in complete agreement with the prevailing standards of the day. Measured by the values of the age in which he live, Jehoiachin could have easily met the expectations of the people on the street and in the places of power.

But it was not their eyes that mattered!

Most of the leaders in our nation–whether tied to education, politics, finance, business, sports, or entertainment—measure the quality of their leadership against the variable standards around them. And each of us tends to look for passing marks by assessing our values, behavior, and success against what we perceive to be the prevailing standards of the culture. This approach makes most of us look good in our own eyes, but it is misleading and self-deceptive. What matters is not the degree to which we pass the test of many in our culture. What matters is how our behavior, attitudes, and values stack up in the eyes of God.

It’s not too strenuous to pass moral tests in a relativistic culture. I don’t have to change my behavior today, because the standards will accommodate it tomorrow. I can justify lying because my motives were noble. And that’s what counts. I can excuse selfishness because times are hard and it’s just the way to care for my stuff like other people do. I can respond to unpleasant things with bitterness and anger because those themes are common in the entertainment I watch and the news reports I see. I can feed my mind on sensual delicacies because I live in a sexualized culture that does not know how to blush. (See Jeremiah 6:15.) I can strive to be morally good, but live indifferently to God because our world has divorced righteousness from living for the glory of God. The former is valued. The latter is optional.

Everything changes when you think about “doing evil in the eyes of God.” Living up to the values of the culture is not enough. The culture embraces a host of ‘virtues’ that violate the clear moral code of God’s revelation in scripture. And even when the culture agrees with scripture, it pretends that we can attain moral rectitude on our own because of some kind of presumed innate ability that resides within. It clings to a self-sufficiency that has no need for God. Being a nice person is not enough, either. We were created for his glory, to bring him honor and praise as long as we have breath. We can excel in ways that amaze others, and fall miserably short on God’s scale because we live for our own glory and praise and not his.

You and I live can before the eyes of the world in such a way that we congratulate ourselves on our character, our attainment, and our ability to outperform others. But when we live before the eyes of God, we come face to face with our depravity, our hidden agendas, our moral cowardice, our duplicity, and our self-centeredness. His glance is humbling. It exposes our shortcomings. It points to our desperate need for Christ. The question, “How am I doing under the eyes of the Lord?” is a hard one to ask. But if we don’t reflect on it often, we condemn ourselves to an estranged and mechanical relationship to the living God. And we abandon ourselves to cultural values that will slowly corrupt our hearts to the place where we can lose sight of the living God altogether. But if we let it lead us to his grace, we can experience the fresh reality of the forgiveness we constantly need.

When you read a modern biography, there are certain components you expect to find. Modern biographers give a cradle to grave account of their subject. They may even go back a generation or two to describe the family roots of the person they write about. A biography would seem deficient if it left out certain segments of the life of an individual. Modern biographies are often psychological. They attempt to probe the mind of their subject. The writer attempts to tell us what motivated their subject, what formative events happened in his or her life, and what circumstances helped shape them to become a notable person. There is a lot in the modern biography about the personal journey of the person in question that offers insight into what makes them tick. Modern biographies contain visual descriptions of their subject. We often get a three dimensional description, plus pictures if possible, of the person described in the pages of the book.

If we use these standards to read the gospel accounts of Jesus, we will be gravely disappointed. Outside of a bit about Jesus’ birth and an incident in the temple as a young teen, we know nothing about him until the beginning of his public ministry. We know nothing about his appearance. His father disappears from the narrative completely. We have only hints about his relationship with his siblings. There is little said about his preferences, tastes, political leanings, or casual social interaction with others. Anecdotal stories are absent. What is left are snapshots of Jesus’ interaction with his disciples, crowds, and his opponents, along with records of some of his verbal teaching.

But applying modern standards to first century Greco-Roman biography is anachronistic. It imposes modern expectations that were not in force in the first century. Greco-Roman biography had some of the following characteristics:

• It commonly skipped over major parts of the character’s life.
• It limited the discussion to key events and speeches.
• It used deeds and words chosen to make a moral statement for the reader.
• It focused on certain virtues which the subject of the biography exemplified.
• It could arrange the material either thematically or chronologically, or using a blend of both.
• It measured the quality of someone’s life by how it ended and how they died.

For more details, I recommend Mark D. Robert’s book Can We Trust the Gospels? (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2007). These characteristics mark the product of the gospel writers as they blended Jesus teaching and his interaction with others into accounts that focus on the theme of the kingdom of God. They remind us that we must be careful not to impose a 21^st Century grid when looking at the texts of scripture.

Educated Americans tend to look to some of the religious practices of the ancient past with distain. When we see the polytheism (many gods) of the ancient world we are dismayed that thinking people would turn realities like rivers, hills trees, and the sun into divine forces.

2 Kings 17 demonstrates how many of the people groups designed and named their own deities. When the Assyrians deported many of the Jews from Israel, they bought in other groups to live on the land. Each national group brought with them a customized deity to serve their needs. The Babylonians called their deity Succoth Benoth. Those from Cuthah brought along Nergal. The inhabitants of Hamath had Ashima. The Avvites brought two deities—Nibhaz and Tartak. The Sepharvites sacrificed their children to Adrammelech and Adamelech. (See 2 Kings 17:29-31.)

The biblical text states that when these nationalities settled in the land, they also worshipped the Lord, Yahweh of the Jews. But their worship was distorted. They appointed their own people as priests and continued to serve their own gods alongside their lip service to this new local deity that they felt obligated to honor. The God of the Jews was simply another deity to appease, just in case his favor would come in handy. (See verses 32 and 33.)

Because human nature remains essentially unchanged, we tend to do similar things in our day. We tend to put the God of the Bible on the same shelf with other forces in life that we respect, admire, or fear. Few of us carve little images to represent this assortment of deities, but our loyalties are still fragmented. God has his slice of our time and reverence, but so do other things.

What elevates something to the level of a bookshelf deity? Without being dogmatic, let me suggest that something might reach this level if we ascribe to it the ability to rescue us—to deliver us or save us from a situation or condition we don’t like. One common deity is affluence. If we obtain enough stuff, we hope to be protected from adversity, need, and tough decisions. Another component on our bookshelf might be entertainment. It offers the hope of escaping from the frustration and stress of life into another dimension in which we can set aside the tension of modern life. For some the bookshelf deity is sexual. It is a quest for physical pleasure that seeks a kind of fulfillment that brings meaning or value to life that can be mundane. For some the deity is admiration. We can serve this god through gaining power and status in the eyes of others through success and force of will. Others worship the same deity by sacrificing their dreams, wills, and rights for the crumbs of acceptance some in authority can toss to them along the way. As you consider how people act, I’m sure you can come up with other bookshelf entities that offer the promise of some kind of rescue or some kind of salvation from unwanted aspects of modern life. Which ones adorn your shelf?

One of the challenges for followers of Christ is to ignore the bookshelf gods that all of us have in our past. We find ourselves turning to them in moments of anger, frustration, or weariness. Though we may intend to serve Jesus Christ alone, we tend to seek deliverance from other sources because old habits can still be appealing. As our understanding of the riches we have in Christ increase, the rescuers of the past will seem small and powerless in comparison. I’d like to pretend that my bookshelf is empty. It may never be. But as the wonder of Christ grows, God offers the promise of relegating the bookshelf deities of our lives to the dark corners of the bookcase where they can sit in their own dust. The goal is not to put fresh fingerprints on their shiny forms. And by God’s grace, we can view them as increasingly irrelevant in light of the growing worth of Christ himself.