Paul’s approach to suffering in the book of Romans

Paul’s theological approach to suffering would encourage his Roman audi­ence. They had faced the trauma of many of their  number being expelled (49 CE), a situation that had ended perhaps less than five years earlier (54 CE), and would soon face deadly persecution (c. 64 CE). These believers also shared broader human experiences like grief for loved ones.

Suffering recalls our attention to God’s faithfulness  and promises. Believers in many parts of the world experience suffering on a dramatic level. Many have faced deadly persecution, such as (among many other possible examples) in northern Nigeria, Iran, and the Indian state of Orissa. Others have suffered  from genocide and horrific  ethnic  conflicts,  such as in  the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. Even in the face of such intense suf­fering, though, believers have often learned to cling deeply to God for hope (cf. 5:3-5).  My wife was for eighteen months a refugee during war in Congo­ Brazzaville, and her journal records her experiences of hope in God that gave her strength to face the anguish.

Moreover, the possibility of chaos is not far from any society. For example, an infrastructure collapse would threaten massive death in heavily urbanized, economically interdependent societies. Yet even without such large-scale catastrophes, all believers face suffering-the death of a family member, struggles with a severely autistic child, miscarriages, and so on.

Counselors warn against giving a glib assertion that “all things work for good” to a person who is suffering. Instead, we should begin to learn to trust Paul’s message of God’s sovereign care and destiny for us before we suffer. At times we may be content learning such ideas without incorporating them in our lives; when we face suffering, however, with only God to cling to, the genuineness of our faith is tested. Then, with God’s help, we have opportunity to show our faith, to further develop an intellectual  affirmation  into a life of deeper trust.

(Adapted from Romans: A New Covenant Commentary, published by Cascade Books. Buy the book here.)

 

Paul’s crafting of the book of Romans – the $2275 letter!

In the past, some scholars made much of the difference between “letters” and “epistles:” placing Paul’s in the former category to show their proximity to most surviving ancient letters (from Egyptian papyri) rather than literary letters.

While Paul did not belong to the elite circles of leisured letter writers like Cicero or Pliny, he did not simply compose his major letters, like Romans, off the top of his head. Given the time necessary to take normal dictation in antiquity (shorthand being unavailable), Paul may have taken over eleven hours to dictate this letter to Tertius, its scribe (Rom 16:22).

Since such a major undertaking probably involved more than one draft (and Paul could draw on his preaching experience), the final draft may have taken less than this estimate, but the total time invested in the letter was probably greater. Given the cost of papyrus and of the labor required (though Tertius, a believer, might have donated his services), one scholar estimates the cost of Romans at 20.68 denarii, which he calculates as roughly $2275 in recent US currency. In other words, Paul did not simply offer this project as an afterthought; Romans is a carefully premeditated work.

As we shall note below, Romans is no ordinary letter; it is a sophisticated argument. The average ancient papyrus letter was 87 words; the orator Cicero was more long-winded, averaging 295 words (with as many as 2530 words); and the philosopher Seneca averaged 995 words (with as many as 4134). The extant letters attributed to Paul average 2495 words, while Romans, his longest, has 7114 words.

One characteristic of letters that is surely relevant here is that authors expected the specified audience of their letters to understand them. Whether authors always communicated adequately or readers always understood adequately is another question, but most authors at least tried to communicate so as to be clearly understood. Paul thus writes to his audience in Greek. (Greek was the first language of many non-Italians in Rome, including the majority of Jews and of Christian ministers who had come from the east; only in the second century is it clear that many lower-class, Latin-speaking Romans joined the church.)

Paul also apparently writes with what he assumes will be shared cultural assumptions regarding language and concepts that he uses without detailed explanation. Informing ourselves about these shared cultural assumptions helps us understand his language.

(Adapted from Romans: A New Covenant Commentary, published by Cascade Books. Buy the book here.)

 

The purpose of spiritual gifts – 1 Corinthians 12-14

The Corinthian church was like much of the American church today: socially stratified, individualistic, and divisive. Although Paul commends them for their pursuit of spiritual gifts (1 Cor. 1:5, 7), he reproves them for a deficiency far more serious: they lack love, the principle that should guide which gifts they seek (1 Cor. 12-14; 1:10).

Spiritual gifts are for building up the body (1 Cor. 12), and love must coordinate our expression of spiritual gifts (1 Cor. 13). Thus prophecy, a gift that builds up others, is more useful publicly than uninterpreted tongues (1 Cor. 14). Gifts, including prophecy, are no guarantee of spiritual  commitment, and one may prophesy  falsely or even submit to the Spirit’s  inspiration without being committed to Christ (Matt. 7:21-2 3; 1 Sam. 19:20- 24).

Paul reminds his friends in Corinth that they experienced  ecstatic  inspiration in Greek  religion before their conversion, and points out that the message of Christ,  rather  than inspiration in general,  is what matters  (1 Cor. 12:1-3). Communicating the content of God’s message, rather than how ecstatically one speaks it, is the important thing. This  principle applies not only to tongues-speakers and prophets, but to well­ meaning preachers who mistake enthusiasm for anointing while delivering empty speeches  devoid of sound scriptural teaching.

Paul then reminds his hearers that all the gifts come from the same Spirit (1 Cor. 12:4-11) and that the gifts are interdepen­dent (12:12-26). Paul ranks the leading gifts (apostles, prophets, and teachers) and then lists other gifts without ranking their importance or authority (12:27- 30). Paul urges this church to be zealous for the “best” gifts (that is, those that will best build up the church; 12:31), especially prophecy (14:1). Thus it is appropriate to seek spiritual gifts, but we choose which gifts to seek by determining which gifts will help the body of Christ most. That is, we let love guide our choice (1 Cor.  13).

Paul covers this point in some detail. Even if we had all spiritual gifts in their ultimate intensity, we would be nothing without love (13:1-3). The gifts will ultimately pass away, but love is eternal (13:8-13). While noting the priority of love over spiritual gifts, Paul describes the characteristics of love (13:4- 8a). Many of the characteristics he lists (for instance, not being boastful) are precisely the opposite of characteristics he earlier attributed to his readers (see 5:2; 8:1).  Thus while the Corinthian Christians were strong in Spirit-led gifts, they were weak in Spirit-led character. For this reason, Paul needed to emphasize the importance of the gift of prophecy, which edifies the whole church, over uninterpreted  tongues, which  edifies  only  the speaker ( 1 Cor. 14). Although Paul focused on what would serve the church as a whole, he was careful not to portray tongues negatively (14:4, 14-19, 39). He exercised this caution even though he could not have known that some later Christians, contrary to 1 Corinthians 14:39, would despise the gift.

The relevance of Paul’s words to the Corinthian churches raises the question of whether Paul would have applied the same argument to all churches in his day. As many Pentecostals and charismatics note, some of his specific restrictions on gifts may have applied to the excessive situation in Corinth rather than to all churches. If, as is likely, most Corinthian house-churches seated only forty members, I suspect that the dynamics of spiritual gifts would apply differently there than in a congregation of two thousand members, where more limits would be necessary, or in a prayer meeting of five members, where fewer would be necessary.

Likewise, in churches today where spiritual gifts are suspect, prophecy would edify the church no more than tongues would, because even the purest prophecy, approved by other trustworthy prophets, would only introduce division.

Some  charismatics insist  that  the  public  function of all the gifts, including tongues  and  prophecy,  is so important that we should pursue them ( 1 Cor. 12:31; 14:1) even if it splits a church. Other charismatics, however, recognize that this view misses Paul’s whole point. The purpose of the gifts is to make the body of Christ stronger, and if public use of gifts would divide a non­ charismatic congregation, charismatic members should honor the unity of the body first and foremost. This is not to say that they should not work through appropriate channels to bring the congregation to greater biblical maturity in the matter of spiritual gifts.

But while gifts are very important and biblical, they are not the most important issue in the body of Christ. The greatest sign of maturity is love.

 

(Adapted from Three Crucial Questions About the Holy Spirit, published by Baker Books.)

 

“Worse than an unbeliever” – the necessity of providing for widows in 1 Timothy 5

Here Paul may refer to widows in general, but he probably refers to an order of  widows  who  served  the church, as in second-century Christianity. (Commentators disagree on this point.)

We should keep in mind that Paul addresses the values of ancient society for  the  sake  of  the  church’s  witness (5:7, 14; 6:1), not implying that  all societies  should  share  those  values (which would, for example, look down on older women who had never married-5:10).

5:3.   Honoring elders was important; “honor” here includes financial support (5:4, 16-18). By “widows indeed” (KJV, NASB) or  “real  widows” Paul  means not simply those bereaved of husband but  those  both  committed  to the church’s  ministry  of  prayer  (5:5) and experiencing the stereotypical Old Testament plight of  widows: destitution (5:4).

5:4.   Adult children or other close relatives were expected to care for destitute widows, who had no opportunity to earn wages in ancient society. It was believed that one owed this care to one’s parents for their support during youth; Paul agrees. Judaism even understood this support as part of the commandment to honor one’s parents.

Under Roman law, a father could discard a newborn child; the child was not regarded as a person and member of the household until the father agreed to raise and support  the child. This way of thinking no doubt contributed to children’s recognition of responsibility to parents.  Early Jews and Christians, however, unanimously opposed abortion, infanticide and throwing out babies, seeing personhood as a gift of God, not of parents.

Caring for aged parents was a matter not only of custom but of law, and was common even in Western society until recent times.

5:5.   The  Jewish ideal for  older  widows, who received support from family or distributors of  charity  but  whose only contribution  to society was prayer (no small contribution),  was that  they be women of prayer (cf. Lk 2:37). (This is probably unrelated to the Roman image of Vestal Virgins’ prayers supporting Rome, although that image shows the ease  with  which the  idea  could have been grasped even in pagan culture.)

5:6.   Here   Paul   probably   refers   to some sort of sexual  immorality,  perhaps becoming a mistress or indulging in lust (once remarried-5:11-a woman would not be considered a widow).

5:7.   The   Greco-Roman   world as a whole was happy to find cause for scandals in minority and foreign religions, and libeled especially any sexual irregularities. Being “above reproach” (NASB, NRSV; also in 5:14) is crucial for the spread of the gospel (6:1). Although conflicting ideals about widows’ remarriage existed in antiquity  (see comment  on  5:9,14), all would view negatively a Christian’s committing immorality or violating a vow of celibacy.

5:8.   Even pagans believed in supporting destitute widows who were relatives; it was believed that one owed support to one’s aged parents.

(Adapted from The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament. Buy the book here.)

 

Should Christian wives submit to their husbands? — 1 Peter 3:1-7

Although Peter upholds societal norms for the purpose of the church’s wit­ness in society, his sympathy here in 1 Peter 3:1-7  is clearly with the woman,  as it was with the slaves in 2:18-25. He continues to advocate sub­mission to authority for the sake of witness and silencing charges that Christianity is subversive; husbands were always in the position of author­ity in that culture.

3:1.   “In the same way” refers back to the  passage on slaves  (2:18-25). Like Judaism and other  non-Roman reli­gions, Christianity spread  faster among wives than husbands; husbands had more to lose socially from conver­sion to an unpopular minority religion. But wives were expected to obey their husbands in Greco-Roman antiquity, and this obedience included allegiance to their husbands’ religions. Cults that forbade  their participation in Roman religious rites,  including prohibiting worship of a family’s household gods, were viewed with disdain, and Jewish or Christian women who refused to worship these gods could be charged with atheism. Thus by his advice Peter seeks to reduce marital  tensions and causes of hostility toward Christianity and Christians. Silence was considered a great virtue for women in antiquity.  “Chaste  and  respectful” (NASB) is the behavior that was most approved for women throughout antiquity.

3:3.   Hair was braided in elaborate man­ners, and well-to-do women strove  to keep up with the latest expensive fashions. The gaudy adornments of women of wealth, meant to draw attention to them­selves, were repeatedly condemned in ancient literature  and  speeches, and Peter’s readers would  assume that  his point  was  meant  in the same way.

3:4.   Ancients  considered  a meek and quiet spirit a prime virtue  for women, and many moralists advised this attitude instead of dressing in the latest fashions to attract men’s attention, a vice com­monly attributed to aristocratic women but imitated  by those who could afford to do so.

3:5.   Moralists  normally  added  exam­ples of such quietness to their exhorta­tions; they especially liked to appeal to matrons of the distant past, who were universally respected for their chaste behavior in contrast to many of the cur­rent models in Roman high society. Jew­ish readers would think especially of the great matriarchs, extolled for their piety in Jewish tradition: Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and Leah, Sarah being most prominent.  The readers may think interms of head coverings that were prom­inent in much of the East, meant to ren­der the married woman inconspicuous.

3:6. Although Peter explicitly advocates only “submission” (v.1), he cites Sarah as an example even of “obedience,” which was what Roman male society demanded of their wives. That Abraham also “obeyed” Sarah is clear in Genesis (the term usually translated “listen to” in 16:2 and 21:12 also means “obey,” and in both passages Abraham submits to Sarah), but this point is not relevant to Peter’s exam­ple for wives with husbands disobedient to the word.

One should not read too much into Sarah’s calling her husband “lord”  here. The  direct  address  “lord” may  have  been used in  Hebrew  to address husbands  respectfully as  “sir,” e.g., Gen 18:12; Hos  2:16, though  it  is especially in later Jewish traditions such as the Testament of Abraham that Sarah addresses Abraham in this manner. Even in the Testament of Abraham, Isaac also addresses his mother with a similarly respectful title and Abraham so addresses a visitor, unaware that he is an angel. In another Jewish tale, Asenath calls her father “lord” yet answers him boastfully and angrily, although Peter certainly does not  suggest  such  behavior  here. In the patriarchal period, it was a polite way to address  someone of higher authority  or one to whose status one wished to defer, e.g., Jacob to Esau in Gen 33:13-14.) Jew­ish people were considered “children” of Abraham and Sarah; on Christians’  ful­ filling such a role, d. 2:9-10.

Peter’s advice is practical, not harsh as it might sound  in our culture. Although philosophers’ household codes often stressed  that the wife should “fear” her husband  as well as submit to him, Peter disagrees  (v. 6; d. 3:13-14). Husbands could legally “throw out” babies, resort to  prostitutes and  make  life miserable for their wives, although sleeping with other women of the aristocratic class or beating their wives was prohibited. (In a mid-second-century account, a Christian divorced her husband for his repeated infidelity, so he betrayed  her to the authorities  as a Christian.) Christian wives were limited in their options, but Peter wants them to pursue  peace with­ out being intimidated.

3:7.   Although  his  point  is  to address the many converted  wives with uncon­verted  husbands (3:1-6), he includes a brief word for converted husbands as well. Many philosophers, moralists and Jewish’ teachers complained about  the moral and intellectual weakness of women;  some referred  to  the  weak­ness of their bodies. Women’s delicacy was considered an object of desire, but also of distrust; even the traditional Roman legal system simply assumed their weakness and inability to make sound decisions on their own. Much of this was due to the influence of
Aris­totle, who argued that women were by nature inferior to men in every way except sexually.

Yet this weakness (Peter  may apply it only to social position) was often cit­ed as a reason to show them more con­sideration,  and Peter attaches no sig­nificance to this common term except that requirement; the rest of the verse declares women to be equal  before God, which ruined  any arguments of their  inferiority  “by  nature.” A hus­band who failed to recognize his wife’s spiritual equality jeopardized his own prayers, for the reason Peter gives in 3:12.

(Adapted from The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament. Buy the book here.)

 

Blessed is the one who reads — Revelation 1:3

Before printing presses were available, well-to-do  people often “published” works especially in public readings, perhaps most often at banquets. But that the book of Revelation was read in churches alongside Old Testament Scripture suggests that the early Christians began treating  it as Scripture then or soon afterward (d. also 22: 18-19).

That one person would read the work (“blessed is the one who reads”) and the whole congregation would hear it (“blessed are those who hear it”) fits what we know of the time; even in urban areas, many people could not read much.

“Blessed are” is the familiar ancient literary form “beatitude,” which is espe­cially prominent  in the  Hebrew  Bible and Jewish texts (e.g.,  Ps. 1:1; Prov. 8:34).13  The  “blessing” form itself is general,  but the context  specifies  the blessings of the end (Rev. 21-22) for which only the listener will be prepared (“the time is near,” 1 :3).

In biblical idiom, “hearing” also often meant “heeding,” i.e., obedience (e.g., the Hebrew of Gen. 26:5; 27:8), but John allows no ambiguity,  adding “take to heart” (lit., “keep”); one  used this language  for observing commandments. Though Revelation is not a collection of laws, its message provides us demands no less serious (Rev. 12:17; 14:12; 22:7).

(Adapted from The NIV Application Commentary: Revelation, published by Zondervan. Buy the book here.)

 

Mission strategy and church reality — Revelation 1:4-8

The fact that Revelation was sent first to the most strategic cities of Asia Minor, trusting that its message would spread from there, invites us to think strategically in our plans to spread God’s message to our communities and the world. We should think as strategically as possible as we mobilize believers for world mis­sions, develop strategies for serving our communities, organize target­ group evangelism, and so forth.

Yet our vantage point in history may also allow us to draw an additional application that would have been less clear in John’s day. When Revelation was written, Christianity flourished in western Turkey, but over the centuries each of these churches gradually succumbed to pressures until the last was virtually  stamped out  by  Islam. The regions where the early church was strongest (Turkey, Syria, and North  Africa) are now Islamic strongholds.

Yet by and large it was the church rather than Islam that destroyed the church; Muslim invaders simply mopped up after them. In North Africa, Christianity weakened itself through internal doctrinal and ethnic divisions, heresies, and the insensitivity of Byzantine and Latin Christians to local cul­ture. Nubia remained a richly Christian African culture until its growing weakness in both missions and Christian education led to its collapse to Islam in the fourteenth through the sixteenth centuries. The disunity of the church led to the demise of a glorious Eastern Orthodox culture before Islam. Regions relatively barren of the gospel two centuries ago are now flourishing with the gospel, while parts of the Western world struggle to maintain a Christian voice.

Lampstands can be moved from their place (Revelation 2:5), and this should serve as a warning to believers in various parts of the world today: We dare not take our role in God’s plan for granted. When part of the church abandons its mission, God will raise up others to fulfill it.

(Adapted from The NIV Application Commentary: Revelation, published by Zondervan. Buy the book here.)

 

 

 

How can we hear the Holy Spirit accurately?

The Holy Spirit passes on Jesus’ words as clearly as Jesus passed on the Father’s. We should be able to hear Jesus’ voice as clearly today as his disciples did two thousand years ago and­— since we see things in light of the resurrection— understand his message better. Of course, Christians have often abused the promise of hearing God’s voice, hearing instead only what they wanted or expected to hear. What objective guidelines can help us learn sensitivity to the Spirit and enable us to hear God’s direction accurately?

First of all, the Spirit does not come to testify about himself; He comes to testify about Jesus (John 15:26; 16:14).  He brings to our remembrance and explains what Jesus has already said (14:2 6). What the Spirit teaches us is therefore consistent with the character of the biblical Jesus, the Jesus who came in the flesh (1 John 4:2). The more we know about Jesus from the Bible, the more prepared we are to recognize the voice of his Spirit when he speaks to us. Knowing God well enough to recognize what he would say on a given topic can often inform us what God is saying, because God is always true to his character. But be warned: those who take Scripture out of context thereby render themselves susceptible to hearing God’s voice quite wrongly.

Second,  the Spirit  does not  come  merely  to show us details such as where to find someone’s lost property, although the Spirit is surely capable of doing such things and sometimes does them (1 Sam. 9:6-20). Nor does the Spirit come just to teach us which sweater to put on (especially when it is obvious which one matches) or which dessert to take in the cafeteria line. The Spirit does, however, guide us in evangelism or in encouraging one another (for example, Acts 8:29; 10:19; 11:12.)  The  Spirit  also comes  to reveal God’s  heart  to us,  and  God’s heart  is defined in  this  context as love  (John 13:34-35; 15:9-14, 17). To walk in Christian love is to know God’s heart (1 John 4:7-8; see also Jer. 22:16).

Third, it helps if we have fellowship with others who also are seeking to obey God’s Spirit. In the Old Testament, older prophets mentored younger prophets (1 Sam. 19:20; 2 Kings 2:3-8). And among first-generation prophets in the early church, Paul instructed the prophets to evaluate each others’ prophecies, to keep themselves and the church on target (1 Cor. 14:29). Spiritual mentors or peers who are mature in their relationship with God and whose  present walk with  God  we can trust can seek God with  us and provide us a “safety  net” of sorts.

If we feel that the Spirit is leading us to do something, but recognize that much is at stake if we are wrong, we may do well to talk the matter over with other mature Christians. Proverbs advised rulers that wisdom rests in a multitude of counselors, and that advice remains valid for us as well. In the end, we may not always settle on  the counsel  others  have given us— like us, they too  are fallible— but if they are diligent  students of the Scriptures and persons of prayer, we should humbly consider their counsel. God sometimes shows us things for the church that others may not yet see; at the same time, God may well have shown some of our brothers and sisters things we have not yet seen.  I have a few spiritual mentors and peers whose counsel I especially treasure and whose wisdom time has consistently (though not always) vindicated.

Many of us as young Christians were intrigued by the frequent experience of supernatural guidance from the Holy Spirit. While most of us who have learned to hear the Spirit in that way still experience such guidance regularly today, after a number of years, sensitivity to the Spirit’s guidance in that form becomes almost second nature and thus becomes less of a focus than it once was. Nor is this guidance, exciting as it may be to one discovering it for the first time, always the most important form of guidance God’s Spirit gives us.

By this method of hearing the Spirit, we might help someone in need, because the Spirit specifically directed us to do so. But many of us have also learned to hear God’s Spirit exegetically, as the Spirit has spoken in the Scriptures.  By hearing the Spirit’s voice in Scripture, we might help that same person in need simply because Scripture commands us to do so.  But perhaps the  deepest sensitivity  to the  Spirit comes  when  we learn  to bear the Spirit’s fruit  in our  lives­ when our hearts become  so full of God’s heart that we help that person  in need because God’s love within us leaves us no alter­ native. All three forms of guidance derive from the Spirit and from Scripture. Yet where  needs  clearly exist, God’s  character that we have discovered  by means of Scripture and the Spirit is sufficient to guide us even when we have no other  specific leading of the  Spirit  or  scriptural mandate, provided neither the Spirit  nor  the  Bible argues against it. It is when the Spirit has written the Bible’s teaching in our heart that we become most truly people of the Spirit.

(Adapted from Three Crucial Questions About the Holy Spirit, published by Baker Books.)

 

 

The Holy Spirit reveals Jesus to us: John 16

Jesus had been telling his disciples that the Spirit would further explain the teachings he had given them – not make up new things that had little to do with the Jesus they had known (1 John  4:2-6), but to teach  them and explain what Jesus had already  begun  to reveal (John  14:26; compare Neh. 9:20; Ps.143:10;  perhaps Prov. 1:23).  In John 16, Jesus explains further how  the  Spirit would  carry on  Jesus’ mission. (John intends this promise for his readers, not just for Jesus’ first hearers [see 1 John 2:20, 27].)

John 16:1-11 encourages persecuted Christians by telling them that those  who drag them  into  court  are themselves  the ones on trial, because God is the ultimate judge. In God’s courtroom,  the Spirit is their “Paraclete” (translated variously “comforter,” “counselor,” “advocate”), a term  which often  meant  a “defense attorney” (1 John 2:1). In the same way, the Spirit testifies along with us as a witness for Christ (John 15:26-27) and prosecutes the world concerning sin, righteousness, and judgment  (16:8-11). Everything that Jesus says the Spirit will do in the world, Jesus himself had done  (3:18-19; 8:46; 15:22).

In other words, the Spirit carries on Jesus’ mission of revealing the Father, in a sense mediating Jesus’ continuing presence, so that by the Spirit Jesus continues to confront the world as he did personally two thousand years ago. Of course,  the Spirit does not reveal Jesus in a vacuum; when Jesus sends the Spirit to convict the world,  he sends  the Spirit,  not  directly to the world  itself, but to us (16:7, the Spirit is sent “to you,” that is, to Jesus’ disciples). The Spirit continues to confront the world with the person of Jesus through our proclamation of him.

Just  as the  Old  Testament prophets knew  God  well before they proclaimed him, our proclamation should flow from a deep and intimate knowledge of God. The Spirit not only empowers us to proclaim Jesus to the world but testifies to us about Jesus for our own  relationship with him (16:12-15; see also Eph. 2:18; 3:16). The Spirit will take the things of Jesus and  reveal them  to us, glorifying Jesus as Jesus himself glorified the Father (John 16: 14-15; see also 7:18, 39; 17:4). As soon as he returned to them after the resurrection, Jesus gave his followers the Spirit so that they could continue to know him (16:16; 20:20-22).

Jesus promised that whatever the Spirit would hear, the Spirit would make known to the disciples (16:13). To someone reading the Fourth Gospel from start to finish, this promise would sound strangely familiar. Jesus had just told his disciples, “I have not called you slaves, but friends, because a slave does not know what  the master  is doing,  but whatever  I have heard from the Father, I have made known  to you” (15:15). Friendship meant many different things to people in the ancient  Mediterranean world, but one aspect of friendship about which moralists often wrote was the intimacy that it involved: true friends could share confidential secrets with one another. As God said to his friend

Abraham, “Shall I hide from Abraham the thing which I am about to do?” (Gen. 18:17).  Moses, too, as God’s friend, could hear his voice in a special way (Exod. 33:11; Deut.  34:10). Jesus was open with his disciples about  God’s  heart,  and promised that the Spirit would  be as open with  the disciples after the resur­rection as Jesus  himself  had been  before the resurrection. Ancient philosophers emphasized that friends shared all things in common; Jesus explained that all that belonged to the Father was his, and all that was his would be the disciples’  (16:14-15). In the context, Jesus especially intended God’s truth (16:13). They would know the heart of God.

 

(Adapted from Three Crucial Questions About the Holy Spirit, published by Baker Books.)

 

The Gospel and modern pluralism: Revelation 2:18-19

In a broader sense, the principles of temptation to compromise here go beyond economic temptations, and many applications we note here continue the basic themes evident in the letter to the Pergamum Christians.  Rome was tolerant of religions as long as they did not make universal claims that might ultimately compete with loyalty to the state; but a universal religion was a threat to Rome, and “such a religion must conquer or die” (Martin Person Nilsson, Greek Piety).

A praiseworthy aspect of modern pluralism is that it provides more of a voice for minorities -whether for ethnic minorities, religious minorities like committed  Christians,  or others.

A danger of modern pluralism, however, like that in the Roman empire, is that it can inadvertently  appear to lend credibility to the claims of philosophic, moral, or religious relativism. Seventy-two percent of Americans in the 18-25 age bracket believe there is no such thing as absolute truth; this view appears to be shared by over half of those who claim to be born-again Christians.  Much of our society has absolutized relativism (how is that for oxymoronic  thinking?) as the only nonnegotiable  truth, in essence arguing that everyone  is right unless one claims to be.

One  commentator cautions, “For some people today tolerance is the only real virtue and intolerance  the only vice” (J.R. Michaels, Revelation); another  that “while the message to Ephesus warns the church about  the  dangers  of loveless orthodoxy, the message to Thyatira  warns against the dangers of a ‘soft’ love that tolerates all things and judges none” (González, Revelation).

Many non-Christians no longer deny the possibility of miracles or of Jesus being a way to God. But to them the Christian way is only one way among many; they bristle at the claim that Jesus is the only true way.

Yet the world is not alone in its excessive tolerance.  Like the Thyatiran Christians, we may tolerate some who falsely claim “deep” teachings  that directly undermine the gospel or Christian ethics. As noted above, few evangelicals today are tempted  to question  some cardinal  Christian teachings like Jesus’ deity or resurrection.  But because relativism has become increasingly popular in our culture, the absolute necessity of faith in Christ for salvation has become a more uncomfortable  position for many to hold. “Over nineteen  centuries  of Christian  missionary  activity hinged  on  this belief alone,” but studies reveal that this remains “the single most socially offensive aspect of Christian  theology,” and that  this has been  the most prominent impact of theological liberalism.

This trend toward accepting  relativism is likely to take its toll in evangelical circles and will probably  become  a primary battleground of early twenty-first  century  evangelicalism. Among students  at “elite” evangelical liberal arts colleges and seminaries, one third believe that other ways of salvation  may be possible for those who have never heard of Jesus Christ. Most will not go so far as a Hindu acquaintance of mine who acknowledged Jesus as a legitimate but not the only path of salvation; they simply claim that God may have a special plan for those who have never heard the gospel.

Yet even this more modest claim guts the very heart of the saving gospel. The standard Jesus-is-the-only-way texts aside (e.g., John  14:6; Acts 4:12), what kind of heavenly Father would send his own Son to the cross if the plan of salvation was actually multiple choice (Gal. 2:21)? The  New Testament presents the apostolic preaching of salvation from a variety of complementary angles: rebirth by the Spirit, justification by faith, passing from death to life or from darkness to light, and so forth.  Yet all these models share the common element that the criterion for transition from one state to another is dependence on Christ;  all humanity  remains alienated  from God  until saved through  this gospel John 3:17-18; Rom. 10:13-17). In practice, the apostolic gospel demands from us a nonnegotiable commitment to missions.

To suggest that God  has other  means of salvation in addition  to faith in the message about Christ,  then,  runs counter  to the center  of the Christian faith.  While Christians may divide from one another on many  issues (see comments on 2:4), some of us have proved too tolerant – or too lacking in backbone  (Prov. 25:26) – on matters that directly affect people’s salvation. Jews suffered in the Roman world for insisting that God  is one; Christians merely compounded the offense by insisting that even their fellow monotheists were unsaved if they did not come through Christ. The ancient  challenge of idolatry was a denial that God is one and demands correct worship; that  challenge  has appeared  in a new guise today, and Christians  must be ready to fight it even at the cost of our lives.

(Adapted from The NIV Application Commentary: Revelation, published by Zondervan. Buy the book here.)