like an evening gone?

The poem I began this blog with is kind of about how our experience of this life will connect with that of the age to come. I recently came across a passage in the novel Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson, which floats around the same questions. The narratorial “I” is the dying Reverend John Ames writing to his son.

“I have always wondered what relationship this present reality bears to an ultimate reality.
A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone…
No doubt that is true.Our dream of life will end as dreams do end, abruptly and completely, when the sun rises, when the light comes. And we will think, All that fear and all that grief were about nothing. But that cannot be true. I can’t believe we will forget our sorrows altogether. That would mean forgetting that we had lived, humanly speaking. Sorrow seems to me to be a great part of the substance of human life. For example, at this very moment I feel a kind of loving grief for you as you read this, because I do not know you, and because you have grown up fatherless, you poor child, lying on your belly now in the sun with Soapy [the cat] asleep on the small of your back. You are drawing those terrible little pictures that you will bring me to admires, and which I will admire because I have not the heart to say one word that you might remember against me.” (118–19)

Contra Miroslav Volf!

Articulating the heart of the gospel

When I am giving a talk in which I am seeking to explain what Jesus has done and how he has saved us, I often find the hardest bit is talking about his work on the cross. This does not surprise me, of course—the cross is a deep mystery before which all my words are pathetically inadequate. However, I work hard on these sections of talks.

I thought I’d post the key paragraph from my latest attempt. See what you think.

The Christian belief is that through his life, death and resurrection, Jesus has won eternal life for human beings. Jesus lived the life human beings were made to live. He loved God, and he loved other people, deeply, completely, and without failure. Jesus won the battle that every other human being fails, the battle against sin. And this victory, his perfection, enabled him then to do something no other human being could do: to give his life as what the Bible calls a “sacrifice of atonement”, that is, an offering to God that dealt with the problem of sin. In Jesus’ death, he, the perfect man, took upon himself all the consequences of humanity’s rebellion against God that have distorted creation. On the cross he, the only one who did not deserve it, suffered God’s righteous judgment upon sin. And the teaching of the Bible, the astonishing teaching of the Bible, is that he did it for us. He did it on our behalf. He died the death you and I deserved. But precisely because of this, because of his righteousness, because he gave himself freely up to death in love for us and for his Father, the power of sin and death was broken in this amazing act. And so he did not remain dead but was raised to life again by his Father and is now alive forever and ever. In Jesus’ cross and resurrection, therefore, the terrible stranglehold that sin and death had on the world were broken. In him there is life.

Series finished!

This is just a quick note to say the series I planned on the Synoptic Gospels and the Nature of Scripture has been completed. Many thanks to those who provided interesting discussion along the way. I’ve put links to all the posts on the series introduction, which would be a good place to start if anyone wanted to link to it:)

I hope you’ve found it interesting. I certainly have.

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Karen and religion in England

This video is very funny. Thanks Jason.

For whom did Christ die?

Michael Bird has a three-way dialogue on “for whom did Christ die?” Worth a look. For the record, I’m with Michael.

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Preaching: the things of God in their proper colours

In discussing the importance of the affections in Christian faith, Jonathan Edwards makes a number of comments about preaching which are, to my mind, very helpful, even (and perhaps especially) in our own age.

“The impressing divine things on the hearts and affections of men is evidently one great and main end for which God has ordained that His Word delivered in the holy Scriptures should be opened, applied, and set home upon men, in preaching. And therefore it does not answer the aim which God had in this institution, merely for men to have good commentaries and expositions on the Scripture, and other good books of divinity; because, although these may tend as well as preaching to give men a good doctrinal and speculative understanding of the things of the Word of God, yet they have not an equal tendency to impress them on men’s hearts and affections. God hath appointed a particular and lively application of His Word to men in the preaching of it, as a fit means to affect sinners with the importance of the things of religion, and their own misery and necessity of a remedy, and the glory and sufficiency of a remedy provided; and to stir up the pure minds of the saints, and quicken their affections, by often bringing the great things of religion to their remembrance, and setting them before them in their proper colours, though they know them, and have been fully instructed in them already.” (The Religious Affections, 44–45).

I find that phrase “in their proper colours” very helpful. Preaching does not just state truth, it paints it so as to show its significance and bring it home to people. I can hardly think of a better definition of preaching than setting before people the truths of God’s Word in their proper colours.