The Death of Christ and How it Relates to Eschatology.
Oct 13, 2017 10:03:30 GMT -6
kjs, barb84, and 8 more like this
Post by homewardbound on Oct 13, 2017 10:03:30 GMT -6
Greetings all...I've been lurking around this forum for a couple weeks but have been leery to join and post anything. Soon to turn 70, I tend to be a bit internet shy. However, this topic and originating post somewhat compelled me to chime in.
I have had two paths in my life and they vary greatly. On one path, I'll call it knowledge, or Truth, I learned a lot of facts taught to me by many "great" teachers. I graduated seminary, spent years under various pastors, and three decades in the mission fields of Malawi and Mozambique under the mentorship of various church leaders, deacons, elders, etc..
The other path, I'll call it wisdom, or Spirit, I learned almost the opposite. This life was lived listening to the weary, ministering to the orphans, hearing the word of God in my walk, crying with those that suffer, suffering with those that cry, and watching my wife bleed to death in my arms as a result of a government "peacekeeping" mission in Zimbabwe.
These paths taught me almost opposite things. Most of the truth that I was taught by other men such as the "correct" way to interpret scripture or the "proper" way to apply jewish tradition is worth very little to me today. Men, who were esteemed greatly among their peers, would conclude the very opposite of each other in the most basic of bible passages and insist that each one of them was applying the "correct" hermeneutics. Not only this, they would apply subtle language to their statements that implied the other person was not only wrong, but perhaps a false prophet or false teacher or had impure motives of some kind. So much impetus on being right! Oh, they would say that they liked discussion and wanted to learn from others, but then they would barely listen while continuing to expound their own thoughts over and over while all the time, hinting at the fact that those opposed to their thoughts, simply didn't pay attention to the important elements of history, original language, jewish idioms and traditions, calendars, scripture interpretations, etc. Even when approached, these men could not see themselves in what I just described.
It was wearisome and worse of all - I was one of those men. And much of this was from people in seminary and on the mission fields of Africa. So much roaring of voices.
One day, I woke up from all that and heard the still small voice of God saying, "Who am I, to you?" That was it, nothing more in that moment. It happened near Salima, Malawi while I sat in the mud with my hands deep in nsima (a main staple in Malawi that is kind of like cream of wheat (but from maize)), trying to scoop out my wedding ring which had fallen into the pot. The nsima was to be fed to 150 orphans and the wood was wet and did not want to light and so we were behind schedule as the kids began to arrive for their one meal that day. I was upset because someone had disagreed with my morning devotion that day and, in my anger, lost my ring in the pot.
So there I was, on my knees leaning over the pot and digging around in the food that I was about to serve trying to find the ring - getting more and more frustrated by the situation. The rain was persistent that year, even more than normal. It was hot, there were bugs everywhere, it was muddy, and I'm stewing over my earlier disagreement - then the ring. That little piece of gold.
Jesus said quietly, "Who am I, to you?" and everything stopped. I mean, for me. The world continued around me, but I stopped digging, my hands still in the pot. I looked up and watched the kids. They were laughing, singing, teasing each other in fun. Most of them had lost their parents to Malaria or AIDS. There little bodies infected with skin rashes, many had AIDS themselves and would not make it to the year's end. Most were malnourished. But they had something I did not have. Joy. They didn't have all my knowledge. They didn't understand how to apply the one and only correct hermeneutic. They couldn't tell you how to prove that the trinity was real. No, they knew something much more important - they knew Him!
I began to weep, right there on my knees in the mud, in front of a half lit fire, with my hands down to my elbows in nsima, as the rain continued to fall. In that moment, the Lord opened my eyes to the path of my life that he had led me down, but that I paid no attention to. He showed me the complete uselessness of man's knowledge. How quickly it falls. A million lessons flooded into my mind as images of my past. I had been bringing the truth to these people, but it had been my truth, my pastor's truth, my instructor's truth, the church's truth. And that truth was SO important to me.
I pulled my hands out of the nsima. The ring still in the pot, never to be found. Some child that day would find a treasure that could feed his family for several months. What seems so precious to us is easily cast aside by the Real Truth - Jesus.
There is no correct hermeneutic. One man's theory or opinion is just that. And typically we gained our own opinions by listening to another man's opinion. God is so much bigger than we give him credit for. He can do whatever he wants in his word and directly contradict what someone believes is the correct way to interpret it. We, by our very nature, want to box him in while at the same time, claim that we cannot box him in.
There is truth - and often people are incorrect. Not all that is claimed to be from God is from God, or even if it is, the speaker may be confused about the actual message. But logic, science, and biblical interpretation techniques are also often wrong and can be just as corrupted by the ones using them.
I have heard great arguments for all the various days that Jesus was supposedly crucified. All of the people were certain they applied all the correct analysis and that the opposers did not. That, in itself, should tell us something: without revelation from God - we will not know.
If Jesus wants us to know the date of his death(as if it makes a difference), he will need to reveal it through revelation. And maybe someday he will tell someone, but it is unlikely that that person would be listened to anyway. It is more likely that we will simply dismiss it because of our own “better” understanding.
I have had two paths in my life and they vary greatly. On one path, I'll call it knowledge, or Truth, I learned a lot of facts taught to me by many "great" teachers. I graduated seminary, spent years under various pastors, and three decades in the mission fields of Malawi and Mozambique under the mentorship of various church leaders, deacons, elders, etc..
The other path, I'll call it wisdom, or Spirit, I learned almost the opposite. This life was lived listening to the weary, ministering to the orphans, hearing the word of God in my walk, crying with those that suffer, suffering with those that cry, and watching my wife bleed to death in my arms as a result of a government "peacekeeping" mission in Zimbabwe.
These paths taught me almost opposite things. Most of the truth that I was taught by other men such as the "correct" way to interpret scripture or the "proper" way to apply jewish tradition is worth very little to me today. Men, who were esteemed greatly among their peers, would conclude the very opposite of each other in the most basic of bible passages and insist that each one of them was applying the "correct" hermeneutics. Not only this, they would apply subtle language to their statements that implied the other person was not only wrong, but perhaps a false prophet or false teacher or had impure motives of some kind. So much impetus on being right! Oh, they would say that they liked discussion and wanted to learn from others, but then they would barely listen while continuing to expound their own thoughts over and over while all the time, hinting at the fact that those opposed to their thoughts, simply didn't pay attention to the important elements of history, original language, jewish idioms and traditions, calendars, scripture interpretations, etc. Even when approached, these men could not see themselves in what I just described.
It was wearisome and worse of all - I was one of those men. And much of this was from people in seminary and on the mission fields of Africa. So much roaring of voices.
One day, I woke up from all that and heard the still small voice of God saying, "Who am I, to you?" That was it, nothing more in that moment. It happened near Salima, Malawi while I sat in the mud with my hands deep in nsima (a main staple in Malawi that is kind of like cream of wheat (but from maize)), trying to scoop out my wedding ring which had fallen into the pot. The nsima was to be fed to 150 orphans and the wood was wet and did not want to light and so we were behind schedule as the kids began to arrive for their one meal that day. I was upset because someone had disagreed with my morning devotion that day and, in my anger, lost my ring in the pot.
So there I was, on my knees leaning over the pot and digging around in the food that I was about to serve trying to find the ring - getting more and more frustrated by the situation. The rain was persistent that year, even more than normal. It was hot, there were bugs everywhere, it was muddy, and I'm stewing over my earlier disagreement - then the ring. That little piece of gold.
Jesus said quietly, "Who am I, to you?" and everything stopped. I mean, for me. The world continued around me, but I stopped digging, my hands still in the pot. I looked up and watched the kids. They were laughing, singing, teasing each other in fun. Most of them had lost their parents to Malaria or AIDS. There little bodies infected with skin rashes, many had AIDS themselves and would not make it to the year's end. Most were malnourished. But they had something I did not have. Joy. They didn't have all my knowledge. They didn't understand how to apply the one and only correct hermeneutic. They couldn't tell you how to prove that the trinity was real. No, they knew something much more important - they knew Him!
I began to weep, right there on my knees in the mud, in front of a half lit fire, with my hands down to my elbows in nsima, as the rain continued to fall. In that moment, the Lord opened my eyes to the path of my life that he had led me down, but that I paid no attention to. He showed me the complete uselessness of man's knowledge. How quickly it falls. A million lessons flooded into my mind as images of my past. I had been bringing the truth to these people, but it had been my truth, my pastor's truth, my instructor's truth, the church's truth. And that truth was SO important to me.
I pulled my hands out of the nsima. The ring still in the pot, never to be found. Some child that day would find a treasure that could feed his family for several months. What seems so precious to us is easily cast aside by the Real Truth - Jesus.
There is no correct hermeneutic. One man's theory or opinion is just that. And typically we gained our own opinions by listening to another man's opinion. God is so much bigger than we give him credit for. He can do whatever he wants in his word and directly contradict what someone believes is the correct way to interpret it. We, by our very nature, want to box him in while at the same time, claim that we cannot box him in.
There is truth - and often people are incorrect. Not all that is claimed to be from God is from God, or even if it is, the speaker may be confused about the actual message. But logic, science, and biblical interpretation techniques are also often wrong and can be just as corrupted by the ones using them.
I have heard great arguments for all the various days that Jesus was supposedly crucified. All of the people were certain they applied all the correct analysis and that the opposers did not. That, in itself, should tell us something: without revelation from God - we will not know.
If Jesus wants us to know the date of his death(as if it makes a difference), he will need to reveal it through revelation. And maybe someday he will tell someone, but it is unlikely that that person would be listened to anyway. It is more likely that we will simply dismiss it because of our own “better” understanding.
