The Second Most Important Day in the History of Mankind

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Every star, every tree, every animal, was created in a state of perfection and total order. All of it was good, and God dwelt among us.

Then it happened.

Mankind made a conscious decision not to live within this goodness. Because of this, we departed from Gods presence. Many words are used to describe this: sin, “the fall”, death. I’m going to go with Chaos. Or how about Entropy.

These general principles of physics entered the world at that point. From then on, creation was defined by an endless cycle of dying, rebuilding, and dying again. Death and decay are all around us, within nature, within our nature, and it’s pretty apparent. The universe is constantly reducing to disorder.

But God had other plans for His creation.

Redemption.

Redemption wasn’t just for us humans:

“I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” (Romans 8:18-22)

God isn’t trying to pull His children out of the world so we can all just sit on our nice fluffy cloud, with our harp, way up in the sky, and watch the world burn. No, He redeemed it all. The full realization of Christ will mean the return of the earth and the whole physical universe to a non-entropic state. The garden will be restored, and we will dwell in it forever with God. (Apocalypse 22:5)

And it all started on that one night, about two thousand years ago, the second most important day in the history of mankind.

If you can, for a second, imagine yourself in that pre-Christmas world. Death, decay, and destruction all spin out of control, with no end in sight. The earth struggles against itself, fighting, killing, falling apart. God, the creator, the only one that can overcome this, hasn’t been heard from in a few hundred years. If you’ve seen any rendition of “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” then you can visualize this concept: a perpetual winter, an evil, despotic overseer, and no end in sight.

“And unto us a Child is born.” “And they shall call him Immanuel (which means ‘God with us’)”

What would you have thought? How would you have felt?

This is how one guy felt: “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)

Another person, a woman who’d been widowed for about 60 years, lived her life in anticipation for that moment:

“And there was a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was advanced in years, having lived with her husband seven years from when she was a virgin, and then as a widow until she was eighty-four. She did not depart from the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer night and day. And coming up at that very hour [that is, the hour when she saw baby Jesus] she began to give thanks to God and to speak of him to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem.” (Luke 2:36-38)

This event wasn’t just some famous dude being born for which a bunch of people were really delighted. This was the incarnation of God, and it shook the very foundations of the universe.

"Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him." (Matthew 2:2)

The Magi, or “wise men”, were Persian astrologer-priests. They weren’t Jews or Christians, they were pagans. They weren’t spending their lives in anticipation for this moment, for the moment when God Himself would come down and redeem us.

They were just looking at the stars, and the stars “groaned”.

Close your eyes for a second (after you read this sentence, of course) and try to picture the clearest night you spent away from the city. Imagine the stars. Billions of them. The Milky Way.

When the Persian astrologer-priests looked up at the sky and started using their charts or horoscopes or whatever, it was very apparent to them that something huge was happening, something big enough to warrant their jumping on camels and traveling 500 miles to give presents that would cost the equivalent to a years’ salary to an infant in a cow’s trough.

The Advent of the Christ was just such an event; it was cataclysmic. It shook the very foundations of the infinite universe, from the Arabian desert to Alpha Centauri and beyond.

And the universe would never be the same.


This Christmas, amongst all the chaos of family, of food, and of presents, take a second to step outside and admire creation. Look at the trees. Look at the mountains. Look at the stars.

Remember what Christmas means not only to us, but to the whole universe.

Remember what that cataclysmic day must have been like, the second most important date in the history of mankind, second only to the day, about thirty years later, when the Christmas Mission was finally accomplished.

Kingdom Theology 101

The inquisitive mind is a gift from God, and I’m pretty sure he intended us to use it. I think sometimes we look down on the questioning of the Bible, or the questioning of “the Story” or of God or whatever, but we shouldn’t. God is all-powerful, right? No question can dupe him. Or prove Him wrong. Or put an end to His work here on earth.

So here’s a question that’s produced all sorts of cool growth in my bible study and in my spiritual life: What was God’s original intention for us here on the earth?

I think it’s highly unlikely that God intended for Adam and Eve to walk around the garden naked forever and not reproduce. So eventually, had everything gone as originally planned, there would have been a bunch of people in the garden. Eventually, there would have been a ton of people—millions, billions perhaps. So, what would God have done with us? He probably would have built a city for us to live in.

City building is something God is into. He likes it. Heaven itself—our final destination and the dwelling place of God—is a city. In the book of Revelations, after God has effectively removed wickedness from the world, what does He do? Does he take us into the clouds right before he blows up the planet? No. He actually renews the earth, His original creation, and He builds a city on it. In this city, all His people will live with Him forever, and He Himself will dwell within the city. It’s an amazing concept; heaven is not in some other dimension where there’s poofy clouds and lots of harps. It’s right here, on earth, after God makes all things new.

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’ And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’" (Revelations 21:1-5)

This is the fully realized “Kingdom of Heaven” that’s mentioned throughout the Greek Scriptures. Revelations actually gives a pretty detailed description. Go read it for yourself.

So here’s the story: God created us in a garden, in which we were to grow and multiply and dwell with God personally. But things went wrong. You know the rest. Instead of building and expanding the relationship that we had with God in the garden, we rejected His plan and were cast out. But God, in His great desire to be with us, came down to earth and made things right. His death and resurrection made it possible for us to be with Him again, and now, provided we embrace His sacrifice and accept our unworthiness, we will live with Him forever in a really, really cool city.

So what happens between the original garden and that awesome city? This, I believe, is the most important question we can ask about our lives as Christians.

More to come...

Intervarsity under attack

It seems constitutional rights haven't been very popular lately. Now even college ministries like InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, one of the oldest college ministries in the world, are being persecuted in America--the supposed bastion of Christianity.

They've been kicked off the University of Wisconsin-Superior campus because they require their leaders to sign a statement demanding they be christians. Go figure.

See the full story here:

http://www.christianpost.com/article/20061004/24973.htm

This seems pretty rediculous. Please pray for Justice.

Book Review: Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell

In 1999 Rob Bell launched his Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The very first Sunday they had 1000 people show up. By the end of six months they had 4,000; within 2 years they had 10,000. Bell is also known for his rapidly-gaining-popularity series of “spiritual short films” called Nooma. His ministry is, needless to say, “successful”.

So when Bell opens his mouth, people—especially Christian leaders—should at least listen.

His first book, Velvet Elvis, is a general glimpse into the Christian philosophy that he is known for. Bell argues that the shift from modern to postmodern requires not just a revamping of the way church is done, but that a “repainting” of Christian theology is needed too. Of course, this is bound to piss people off. But unlike other “emergents”, Bell doesn’t seem to want to make a point by either pushing extremes or embracing ambiguity. I’d recommend this book to both the most extreme Emergent as well as the hardcore Reformed thinker. It’s a challenge to both sides because Bell’s theology is unorthodox, but not liberal “wishy-washy”.

His justification for repainting the faith is based on a few ideas. First, he asserts the subjective nature of biblical interpretation. Bell argues that no matter how hard we try, we can’t be absolutely objective in interpreting the bible. We can adopt others’ interpretations, of course, but it’s an interpretation nonetheless. Bell humorously recounts the times people have made the comment “well, as long as you teach the bible you’re alright in my book.” They mean, as long as you teach their interpretation of the bible. Thus, Bell has problems with the idea of the absolute “infallibility” of the Scriptures. Say what you will, Bell’s assertion is not meant as an attack on the faith. His love for the Scriptures is blatantly stated throughout the book.

Second, he asserts that reinterpretation of the faith is something that God is not only OK with, but something He encourages. Citing the church in Acts, he argues that the Christian faith has been evolving since the very beginning, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t continue to do so.
The most interesting aspect of Bell’s thinking—and the most convincing—is his insistence on reading the Greek Scriptures in the light of their Hebrew origins. In looking at both Jesus’ teaching and the epistles, he pulls out all sorts of nuances that I’d never heard before. For instance, he claims that Jesus’ first three miracles were purposely done in opposition to three Roman cults popular in Asia Minor, the area to which John wrote the Gospel. Dionysus was the god of wine and could turn water into wine—Jesus’ first miracle (John 2). Asclepius was the god of healing (his staff with the snakes wrapped around it is still a symbol of medicine), hence Jesus’ healing of the invalid (John 5). Demeter was the god of agriculture—bread—hence Jesus’ third miracle (John 6). If this isn’t true, then it’s a crazy coincidence (Jesus…coincidence…I don’t think so).

He also talks about Jesus’ trip to Caesarea Philippi. Caesarea Philippi was built on top of a huge cliff—a large rock if you will. On the side of the cliff on which the city was built there was a huge crevice, and near it was a temple to the Roman god Pan (the guy with goat legs and the flute), the god of fright. The crevice was thought to be the place where Pan’s terrors came into the world, and was known as the “Gates of Hell”. So when the Jesus and his disciples were in Caesarea Philippi and Jesus says “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it,” (Matthew 16:18 ESV) it takes on an entirely different meaning: “I’m going to build a community of believers up in that there town, and this Roman cult will not be able to stop me.” Interesting, to say the least.

Like it or not, Bell’s theology is rapidly gaining popularity. I’d advise anyone who wants to keep up on things to read this book. I would challenge anyone who wishes to converse with postmodern Christianity to read this book and try to keep an open mind. I found it both challenging and affirming. At the very least it will cause you to think and question, something that Bell himself encourages: “Test it. Probe it. Do that to this book. Don’t swallow it uncritically. Think about it. Wrestle with it. Just because I’m a Christian and I’m trying to articulate a Christian worldview doesn’t mean I’ve got it nailed. I’m contributing to the discussion. God has spoken, and the rest is commentary, right?”