Stephen Westerholm on Christians fulfilling the law

...there is no question (could there ever be) that Christians are obligated to serve God. Nor is there (for Paul) any question that believers, as dwellers in God's world, are subject to precisely the same universal obligations of truth, goodness, and love that are spelled out in the moral demands of the Mosaic law. Indeed, when they live as they ought and as they are enabled by the divine spirit that indwells them, their conduct will prove unexceptionable by the standards of the law. They will, in effect, have "fulfilled" the law. Paul's point is rather that believers do not encounter these obligations as law.

"Law," in this Pauline usage, stands not simply for the concrete commands and prohibitions found in Torah, but also for the mode in which these obligations encounter rebellious humanity "in the flesh": as commands that are externally imposed (their inscription on tablets of stone is in marked contrast with demands recognised and endorsed within human hearts) upon a will bent on its self-assertion. The Mosaic law in all of its parts - moral as well as ritual commandments, sanctions as well as demands - was intended for a a favoured people who are nonetheless representative of humanity "in the flesh". Among them it could only exacerbate - while it defined and condemned - humanity's rebellion. For a humanity being prepared for restoration to its intended place in God's creation, for a humanity (as Paul puts it) that has yet to "come of age," God provided a fitting and graphic reminder in his covenant with Israel that he is good, that human beings have been made to enjoy fellowship with him, and that that fellowship requires their own submission to the good. Inevitably, the latter requirement could only encounter Adamic humanity as law.

But law (in this sense) is a matter of the past for a humanity that has "come of age." Its ceremonial aspects were never intended for any but Jews. But even its moral demands now have a different character. To be sure, murder, adultery, and theft are as wrong for Christians as they ever were for Israel "under the law." Moreover, so long as Christians are subject to the weakness and temptations of life in a sin-scarred world, they will need guidance (or, at the least, reminders) about which kinds of behaviour are appropriate and which kinds are inappropriate and wrong for them to show as the redeemed people of God. We may go further. There is, in Paul's understanding, a continuing place for figures of authority in the church to provide such guidance and, if necessary, to insist upon its obligatory nature. Paul himself does not hesitate to advise, to remind, to command. But even when he commands, he insists that he is merely spelling out what is implicit in his Christian readers' own faith and experience of God. Appropriate behaviour for believers is, for Paul, the natural expression of their trust in God and their experience of his indwelling spirit. They have "crucified the flesh;" no longer, then, can God's will confront them as an arbitrary, vexing and provocative law.

Stephen Westerholm, Preface to the study of Paul, Eerdmans 1997, p.92f

Illustrations

Illustrations - all good sermons need them (apparently). All good preachers acquire them, store them, retrieve and deploy them. Stories, analogies, examples. Things to illustrate - illuminate - a point. But what makes for the best illustrations?

The answer, it seems to me, are not ones that are sought-out to buttress a point but those that have led to the point being realised in the first place - observations from life that highlight something that is bigger than just the specific instance.

Seth Godin is brilliant at this - his article on smooth water and the lesson he draws/applies from cavitation is a prime example (illustration, if you like) of just that. He has seen something, learnt something, about a topic (cavitation) that enables him to then see something else more clearly, on an enitrely different topic.

Those kinds of illustrations don't only help to illuminate something that is already known, they've likely been part of that learning in the first place. Knowing what (and why) engineers do regarding cavitation leads to keener perception of comparable issues in the realm of organisations and their dynamics.

When our eyes are open and our minds alert to the world around us and within us, those insights occur. And when that happens, everyone is a learner.

And I will give you rest

35 years ago today, a guy called Steve asked if he could sit down and talk to me about Jesus. And Jesus? He said, Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest.

I was 19, nearly 20, and had been struggling for nearly 2 years with what I would later discover was a mental illness called OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (I'm self-diagnosing here but I think it's a pretty secure diagnosis). I had only told one person the smallest amount (Garry Fenley, God bless you, God bless you for your unflinching friendship and love - you can never know how much it meant to me) and it felt like it was killing me.

The closing months of 1982 and then into 1983 were the darkest of times. A longing to escape, somehow, whatever that might mean or take. Hiding as much as I could of the devastating impact of a broken and lost soul. No hope; only chasms of despair and loss.

The OCD wasn't the real issue, though, strange as that sounds. It was how my deepest fears and insecurities found expression and exercised control - fears about death and the power of evil and layer upon layer of guilt and shame. And the longing to be known and to belong and to be embraced at the deepest level of being.

I thought I'd reached a place of peace for a couple of months (the power of a first girlfriend is quite something) but nothing had changed, not really and not at all. And I was just beginning to sense that. If the edge of the cliff had come close before, this time would be closer still.

And Jesus said, Come to me and I will give you rest. Rest from all my fears and rescue from the choking despair.

What did Steve say? In all honesty I don't remember but everything changed that day. Jesus who died to overcome death. Jesus who experienced all the horrors of evil powers and faced them down. Jesus who shouldered my shame. Jesus who reached out in love and mercy and embrace. Jesus who sets prisoners free.

I've loved the stories in the gospels of Jesus meeting people and making them new. The man possessed by a legion of demons in Mark 5 who cannot even ask for help - Jesus sees him, delivers him and he re-enters society as a man who can tell how much the Lord has done for him. The leper in Mark 1 - he knows Jesus can help but he doesn't know if Jesus would want to. And why would he want to help a man buried so deep in shame and exclusion? But he said, I am willing; be clean.

I so wish I could tell this better, because the love of Jesus is deeper and more glorious than these few words could tell. But here's an old hymn that describes a little of what I discovered those years ago; maybe it will be part of your story too?

Out of my bondage, sorrow, and night,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into Thy freedom, gladness, and light,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of my sickness into Thy health,
Out of my want and into Thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into Thyself,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of my shameful failure and loss,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into the glorious gain of Thy cross,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of earth’s sorrows into Thy balm,
Out of life’s storm and into Thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of unrest and arrogant pride,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into Thy blessed will to abide,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of myself to dwell in Thy love,
Out of despair into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into the joy and light of Thy home,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of the depths of ruin untold,
Into the peace of Thy sheltering fold,
Ever Thy glorious face to behold,
Jesus, I come to Thee.