Centre for Public Christianity (September and October 2021)

In September, the Centre for Public Christianity posted a ‘Life and Faith’ podcast (here) with CPX’s own Justine Toh talking about her new book on achievement addiction – ‘what it’s like for all of us to live in a world that’s obsessed with success’ – and another one (here) with journalist Greg Sheridan, discussing his new book, Christians: The Urgent Case for Jesus in our World.

This month sees an interview (here) with Jenny Brown on ‘the spectrum of mental health, maturity, and how we change in the context of the “family systems” we’re part of’.

Centre for Public Christianity (April 2021)

The Centre for Public Christianity has posted two ‘Life and Faith’ podcasts: one (here) with atheist philosopher Julian Baggini and New Testament scholar Jonathan Pennington, asking, ‘if Jesus offers wisdom for how to live, how necessary is the “Son of God” stuff?’, and one (here) with John G. Stackhouse Jr. and Nathan Campbell ‘about the chaos surrounding the recent U.S. presidential election, and the place of Christian faith in politics and public life’.

On the Ascension (and Being Creatures of the Calendar)

The below is an excerpt from an email written for the congregation where I am one of the pastors.

It’s become something of a joke that many of us have lost our sense of time through this period. As someone posted on Facebook a few weeks back, ‘for those who have lost track, today is Blursday the fortyteenth of Maprilay’!

It’s been a reminder of how much we live according to the rhythm of particular calendars. Whether it’s school terms, the football season, summer holidays, or planting the vegetable patch, we are calendar-driven creatures.

As it happens, God made us this way. It’s not long after Noah and his family emerge from the ark that God reaffirms the creational pattern of ‘seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night’ (Genesis 8:22). The Israelite year was punctuated by moments to remember what God had done in saving his people and his ongoing provision for them – Passover, harvest, tabernacles, and so on.

Beyond Christmas and Easter, those of us in free churches don’t tend to pay much attention to Christian festivals. But fellow Christians in other church traditions are far more alert to the changing seasons of the Christian calendar, and they often find their walk with the Lord enriched as a result of reflecting on where we are now in the year.

In any case, all of this is introductory burble to say that tomorrow (Thursday 21 May) is Ascension Day. I wonder if you’ve ever marked it before? We tend to bundle Jesus’ ascension with his resurrection as a single event, but they were separated by nearly six weeks, and Ascension Day is traditionally celebrated on the 40th day after Easter Sunday. (Yes, it’s really 40 days since Easter!)

The early disciples knew this, because they lived through those days. So, Peter is clear on the Day of Pentecost that the climax of what God has done in Jesus is not the resurrection, but Jesus being ‘exalted to the right hand of God’ (Acts 2:33), fulfilling the hopes expressed in Psalm 110 of the Messiah taking his seat at the right hand of the Lord.

If the resurrection affirms that Jesus lives forever, the ascension confirms that he reigns forever. And Jesus’ ascension opens up a new era in God’s dealings with his people and with the world – the era of the giving of the Spirit, the era of Jesus’ ministry as our heavenly High Priest, the era of God’s mission to all nations, the era of hope for what will be when Jesus returns just as he left.

All that is worth marking – and pondering – not least during these times in which we live.

Coming back to where we started, it’s perhaps also a reminder that the church calendar at its best changes the way we experience time and understand reality. It’s all too easy for me to to map my year onto the calendar of the dominant cultural reality, whether that be sports, holidays, or education – important though they are. But part of ‘numbering our days’ in order to ‘gain a heart of wisdom’ (Psalm 90:12) is to live according to a more ultimate reality – one that marks time with the coming of Christ as the fulfilment of Israel’s hopes and his coming again at the renewal of all things.

All of which is to say, Happy Ascension Day!

The Christmas Jesus #4: Given a New Purpose

This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham...

Judah the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar...

Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab,

Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth...

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife...

This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: his mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit...

Having been warned in a dream, he [Joseph] withdrew to the district of Galilee, and he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.

Matthew 1:1, 3, 5, 6, 18 and 2:22-23

If we had been put in charge of organising the coming of God’s Son into the world, we probably would have done things differently.

For a start, we wouldn’t have included those women in the messianic line. Not only are they women (which is significant), and not only are they Gentiles or associated with Gentiles (which is also significant), but they’re also, as one writer puts it, ‘Mothers on the Margin’. In some respects, they anticipate the whiff of sexual scandal surrounding Mary’s childbearing, reminding us that God doesn’t always work out his purpose within the boundaries of public respectability.

Their inclusion sends out a signal that God can be found on the margins, using people with dubious records, people without the normal trappings of status and power, but who might – like some of Jesus’ grandmothers – be right at the centre of his amazing plan for the world.

Issues of power and status continue into Matthew 2, where the contrast is not only between two ‘kings’ – Jesus and Herod – but between those who have power, like Herod and the religious elite, and those who are apparently powerless and insignificant, like pagan astrologers, like children under two years old who can be wiped out at someone else’s whim, like Joseph and Mary who are forced to become refugees and then residents of backwater Nazareth.

Jesus’ coming rewrites the messianic script, challenging ideas of social status and power in the process – born under a cloud of sexual impropriety, taken as a refugee to Egypt, living as a ridiculed Nazarene, dying as a criminal on a Roman cross.

Although we might not immediately think of it this way, it’s a reminder that belonging to Jesus gives us a new purpose. God is working out his plan of salvation for all nations, and – incredibly – he makes us a part of how he brings that about. And that salvation, as we see in the Christmas story, is for people who lack power and status, for people on the margins, for people with sexual scandal in their histories, for people with dodgy backgrounds, for people for whom things haven’t quite worked out the way they hoped they would, for people like you and me.

Because of who he is and how he comes to us, the Christmas Jesus transforms the way we think about ourselves and others, and about church and mission. As 2019 ends and as 2020 starts and unfolds, let’s worship this Jesus – to his own glory.

The Christmas Jesus #3: Subjects of a New King

This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham... Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Messiah...

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, ‘Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.’

When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. ‘In Bethlehem in Judea,’ they replied, ‘for this is what the prophet has written:

‘“But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for out of you will come a ruler

who will shepherd my people Israel.”’

Matthew 1:1, 17 and 2:1-5

It seems somehow appropriate to be writing this the day after the General Election – regardless of what we think about the outcome this time. My Christian friends who work in politics tell me it’s all too easy to say that ‘Christ is King’ as a kind of slogan – even as an excuse for lack of engagement with issues in society, a way of retreating into our Christian caves. Perhaps so. Of course, that doesn’t stop it being true: Christ is King.

In fact, the very first verse of the New Testament makes it clear he is ‘the Messiah the son of David’. And Jesus’ kingship is written large across the opening chapters of Matthew’s gospel.

For instance, Matthew traces Jesus’ genealogy through the rise of the monarchy in king David, its loss in the exile, and its restoration in Jesus the Messiah. Matthew’s division of Jesus’ family tree into three groups of 14 may have prompted Jewish readers to think of the numerical value of the name ‘David’ in Hebrew, which is 14. Even the very arrangement of the genealogy emphasises Jesus’ kingship!

Matthew also reminds us of the contrast between Jesus, who has been ‘born king of the Jews’ (2:1), and Herod, who is currently installed as a puppet king of the Romans. Herod somehow senses that Jesus represents a rule that ultimately threatens his own. Indeed, as the Scriptures make clear, it’s the one born in Bethlehem who is the legitimate king, the one who would shepherd Israel.

And it becomes clear as the story progresses that this ‘son of David’ will not defeat his enemies with military might or political power. Nor will he rule over a particular geographical territory or ethnic group. This king will take away the sins of his people. His throne will be a cross. His kingdom will include people from all nations. His rule will embrace all things.

If anything, that all-embracing rule provides the biggest motivation of all not to withdraw now that the General Election is over. Precisely because Christ is King, whatever realm the Lord has placed us in – whatever family, street, job, career, course, or hobby – we can bear fruit in it, as we build relationships, seek justice, make a gracious stand for truth, and witness to the gospel. And we do so as subjects of the king, called to represent and reflect the beauty of his rule in all the earth.

Beneath the Cross of Jesus

For this year’s Good Friday. We used to sing this in the first home church to which I belonged, but I haven’t sung it in a congregation for over 30 years. As a precocious teenager, I decided I would like this to be sung at my funeral. I think I still would. I like that it seems to tell a story. I like it as a statement of what really matters – ‘My glory all the cross’. I think I was aware even as a young lad of its somewhat sentimental tone; but, for me at least, it stays on the right side of mawkishness!

Beneath the cross of Jesus

I fain would take my stand,

The shadow of a mighty rock

Within a weary land;

A home within the wilderness,

A rest upon the way,

From the burning of the noontide heat,

And the burden of the day.

O safe and happy shelter!

O refuge tried and sweet!

O trysting-place where heaven’s love

And heaven’s justice meet!

As to the holy patriarch

That wondrous dream was given,

So seems my Saviour’s cross to me

A ladder up to heaven.

There lies, beneath its shadow,

But on the farther side,

The darkness of an awful grave

That gapes both deep and wide:

And there between us stands the cross,

Two arms outstretched to save;

Like a watchman set to guard the way

From that eternal grave.

Upon that cross of Jesus

Mine eye at times can see

The very dying form of One

Who suffered there for me;

And from my smitten heart, with tears,

Two wonders I confess:

The wonders of His glorious love,

And my own worthlessness.

I take, O cross, thy shadow

For my abiding place;

I ask no other sunshine than

The sunshine of His face;

Content to let the world go by,

To know no gain nor loss:

My sinful self my only shame,

My glory all the cross.

Elizabeth Cecilia Clephane (1830-1869)

Journal of the Jesus Movement in its Jewish Setting

The Journal of the Jesus Movement in its Jewish Setting: From the First to the Seventh Century (JJMJS) is a peer-reviewed academic open access journal, published electronically in cooperation with Eisenbrauns, with the support of McMaster University and the Caspari Center.

According to its website, the journal aims ‘to advance scholarship on this crucial period in the early history of the Jewish and Christian traditions when they developed into what is today known as two world religions, mutually shaping one another as they did so’. The journal ‘publishes high-quality research on any topic that directly addresses or has implications for the understanding of the inter-relationship and interaction between the Jesus movement and other forms of Judaism, as well as for the processes that led to the formation of Judaism and Christianity as two related but independent religions’.

The journal can be read via issuu, from where it can also be downloaded if you have an issuu account.

Vern Poythress on the Lordship of Christ

I’ve just ordered a copy of the latest book from Vern Poythress:

Vern S. Poythress, The Lordship of Christ: Serving Our Savior All of the Time, in All of Life, with All of Our Heart (Wheaton: Crossway, 2016).

Meanwhile, a pdf excerpt of the book is available here, and Poythress has posted an article here on ‘10 Things You Should Know about the Lordship of Christ’, which are as follows:

1. Christ is Lord over all because he is God.

2. Christ is Lord over all because in his human nature he has accomplished perfect obedience, has won salvation for us, and has been given universal dominion as a reward.

3. Christ claims authority over both believers and unbelievers.

4. We are to obey Christ in all things.

5. We are to serve Christ all the time, in all of life, with all of our heart.

6. The means of grace guide us and equip us to grow in serving Christ.

7. Serving Christ makes a pronounced difference in every area of life.

8. Because of Christ’s lordship over the world, we can sometimes learn from and cooperate with unbelievers in short-term projects.

9. Christ gives distinctive authority and responsibilities to people in various spheres of life.

10. Through Christ, God establishes a pronounced distinction between the church and other institutions on earth.

Vern S. Poythress on the Miracles of Jesus

Vern S. Poythress, The Miracles of Jesus: How the Savior’s Mighty Acts Serve as Signs of Redemption (Wheaton: Crossway, 2016), 271pp., 978-1-4335-4607-5.

The ever-prolific Vern Poythress has a new book out, this one on the miracles of Jesus, particularly as recorded in Matthew’s gospel. Here is the publisher’s blurb, which – along with the subtitle of the book – gives a nice summary overview of what Jesus’ miracles are about:

‘Jesus walked on water. He healed a blind man. He turned water into wine. More than just displays of his divine power, Jesus’s miracles signify something deeper – they’re windows into God’s grand story of redemption, foreshadowing the great miracle of Christ’s death and resurrection... Poythress unpacks how understanding the meaning of Christ’s miracles will help us better grasp the salvation God has brought into the world.’

There is an interview with Poythress about the book here, and – remarkably – the entire book is available as a pdf here.

But We Do See Jesus

I contributed this week’s ‘Word for the Week’, a weekly email service provided by the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity.

There is a place where someone has testified:

‘What is mankind that you are mindful of them,

a son of man that you care for him?

You made them a little lower than the angels;

you crowned them with glory and honour

and put everything under their feet.’

In putting everything under them, God left nothing that is not subject to them. Yet at present we do not see everything subject to them. But we do see Jesus, who was made lower than the angels for a little while, now crowned with glory and honour because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.

Hebrews 2:6-9

It sounds great, but it doesn’t ring true. The apparent upshot of Psalm 8 – that men and women are crowned with glory and honour, that we are given dominion over creation – simply doesn’t match our experience. At the same time as the psalm calls us to have a high-enough view of ourselves, it also provokes us to have a realistic view of ourselves.

Though formed in the image of God, our representation of his rule and authority in the world is distorted. To be sure, threads of beauty, compassion, and productiveness are woven into the fabric of our existence; but so are threads of darkness, disease, and disorder. In our more honest moments, we don’t need to go further than ourselves to be confronted with the twists and turns of the human heart. We walk tall, but fall short.

Plus, on top of everything else, death so clearly thwarts human dominion in the world, and no-one has found a way through that barrier.

Except, as the writer to the Hebrews tells us, there is one human being who has fulfilled the destiny for which we were made. Jesus, himself made lower than the angels, who because of his suffering and death on behalf of others, has now been crowned with glory and honour, and reigns over all things, breaking even the power of the devil and death itself (Hebrews 2:14-15). We don’t yet see God’s final plan for humanity and creation completed, ‘but we do see Jesus’. The rule of Psalm 8, which so easily eludes us, has become a reality in him.

It is sometimes suggested that Jesus has completed the command to rule first given to our first parents, and so it no longer applies to us today. But, if anything, his dominion over all things makes the creation mandate even more significant. As Christians, we are being remade in the image of Christ, restored under Christ’s lordship to what was lost in Adam and Eve so as to bring glory to God in all we do!

Precisely because we see Jesus crowned with glory and honour, whatever realm the Lord has placed us in – whatever family, job, school, course, church, and hobby – we can bear fruit in it, as men and women made and then remade in God’s image to represent and reflect the glory of his grace in all the earth.

Thoughts on Luke 10:38-42

A friend recently asked for my thoughts on the Mary and Martha incident in Luke 10:38-42, particularly when it is seen as Jesus validating a life focused on ‘church’ stuff rather than the messy business of the ‘world’, particularly work. I haven’t been able to offer a full and rounded answer, but basically summarise very roughly below what I think are the helpful bits of what I’ve read, interspersed with some of my own reflections.

The reception history of the passage is long and diverse; in certain contexts its portrayal of Mary has been seen as privileging the ‘contemplative’ life over against the more ‘active’ life, but sometimes the contrast is between ‘words’ and ‘actions’, or between ‘justification by works’ over against ‘justification by faith’. So, it’s questionable even that the choice has to be between the ‘sacred’ (church) and the ‘secular’ (work). It could just as easily be a choice between two ways of serving Jesus in churchly matters, in distinctly ‘religious’ activity. All of these contrasts, of course, are being read into the briefest of accounts. In all cases, it seems, the disjunction ends up being too sharp and doesn’t bear the weight put on it. So, even the contemplatives need to grow and nurture and prepare food and eat at some point!

What really is the upshot of the passage: that no one should ever prepare meals, and that we should all just sit around all day and pray and read Scripture all day? That would go against the grain of so many other passages of Scripture that it simply doesn’t make sense.

As a basic principle, it’s worth noting, one should be careful about drawing too many inferences from any one passage, particularly if other passages provide complementary perspectives from other angles. Jesus’ exhortations about hating one’s family, for instance, are a sharp way of saying that, when push comes to shove, allegiance to him takes precedence over even the closest of human bonds – but Jesus doesn’t thereby destroy the institution of family, and is quick to cite the fifth commandment against those who are trying to find ways of wriggling out of their responsibility to care for their parents. Most of us operate with a similar interpretive procedure when it comes to his demands about selling all we have and giving to the poor to become his followers. We’re not really going to get rid of the house, the car, and the laptop, but we’re going to do our level best to make sure that our possessions stack up behind him.

In this particular case, then, it’s highly unlikely that Jesus is discounting the value and significance of showing hospitality (and the attendant work necessary for doing so). Luke contains many stories about meals, and hospitality is noted as a gift and is deeply valued across the board as a Christian practice.

More significantly, the passage may be saying less about work and more about gender. Mary is portrayed as taking the traditional place of a disciple, seating herself at Jesus’ feet to listen and learn. This may not be so revolutionary a notion as is sometimes made out, but – by all accounts – was still unusual. The idea that a woman would learn from a rabbi – indeed, would have been allowed to learn – might well have struck many in the original audience (and in Luke’s audience) as at least surprising, and perhaps even scandalous. So, if there is a subversive note struck in the passage at all, it is here.

This might also tie in with the immediately preceding passage with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Both episodes reinforce, as do other passages in Luke, that Jesus disrupts the social, ethnic and gender boundaries assumed by the culture in which he lived.

In addition, it may not be Martha’s hospitality or preparation (by extension, her work) that is the problem, but her fussing. Commentators I looked at draw attention to the ‘worry’ words used by both Martha to Jesus and by Jesus back to Martha, suggesting that Jesus’ concern is not primarily with the tasks Martha is absorbed in but with her anxiety over them. This fits with the portrayal of the life of discipleship elsewhere in Luke (e.g., 8:14; 12:22-23) and the gospels more generally. Again, the exhortations not to worry about what we will eat and what we will wear don’t remove from us the need to go about making sure those things happen – that we and our families are fed and clothed – just as praying for our daily bread doesn’t take away the responsibility of sowing the seed, gathering the harvest, making the flour, baking the loaf, etc.

So, there may well be a lesson about priorities here, and one which we might need to take on board. It’s not that a contemplative life is better than an active life or that learning is preferable to domesticity. It’s paying attention to Jesus’ words that is of primary significance. In that sense, the passage may function as a warning to disciples who tend to be over-active, perhaps in Christian service or perhaps in other activities. In such cases, even good things can distract us from essential things.

The world usually values Marthas, and Christians often value Marthas, so there may be a challenge that busyness does not necessarily equate to faithfulness. So, there might be something here about getting our busyness into proper perspective. Jesus is arguably addressing Martha’s fear and anxiety in her busyness, not the value of the work per se. Even so, we need to make sure that distractions and busyness doesn’t keep us from the feet of Jesus.

Out of This World?

I contributed this week’s ‘Word for the Week’, a weekly email service provided by the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity. An earlier version of it first appeared in a book, Whole Life, Whole Bible: 50 Readings on Living in the Light of Scripture, written with LICC colleagues Margaret Killingray and Helen Parry (published by BRF).

When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshipped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.

Luke 24:50-53

Christ’s ascension sometimes gets bundled with his resurrection rather than treated as an event in its own right. In fact, as the rhythm of the church’s calendar reminds us, they were separated by forty days. And it stands as significant, with Jesus’ ascension opening up a new era in God’s dealings with the world and with his people in the world.

At the very least, it means Jesus is exalted to the right hand of God, as Peter explains (Acts 2:33-36; 5:31), showing he is less interested in the ‘up-down’ mechanics of the event than he is with the status of his Lord – the ascension confirming him as the king, the fulfilment of God’s centuries-old promises to David.

Beyond this, lose the ascension and we lose the heavenly ministry of Jesus as our High Priest, his very presence with God providing intercession on our behalf, his finished work requiring no repetition or extension of any kind. Lose the ascension and we risk losing the comfort of hope – that one day our weak bodies will be like his glorious body, that the same Jesus who ascended will return as judge and king. And as a human being too – for he did not slip off his humanity to get on with the task of being the exalted Son of God, but has taken it into the very presence of God, wedding us to him for ever, reminding us once again of God’s commitment to restore us and his creation.

Meanwhile, the ascension does not mark the end of his work on earth, but the continuation of it through the church – a mission which can be carried out with confidence because of the position our master now occupies, with all places subject to his rule and all people subject to his oversight – including the places we inhabit and the people we encounter, even today.

As the ascended Lord, he lays claim not just to the church but to all realms of life. And his heavenly location redraws how we think about our ‘location’ – how we live in our earthly ‘spaces’ given the one from whom we take our bearing. Our lives are oriented around the reality of the risen and ascended Christ, his heavenly lordship investing today’s even apparently menial tasks with eternal significance.

Jesus Shall Reign

For this year’s Easter Sunday...

One of my favourite hymns (with more than the standard 5 or 6 stanzas we’re used to) from one of my favourite hymn writers (Isaac Watts), based on one of my favourite Psalms (72).

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun

Does his successive journeys run;

His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,

Till moons shall wax and wane no more.

Behold the islands with their kings,

And Europe her best tribute brings;

From north to south the princes meet,

To pay their homage at His feet.

There Persia, glorious to behold,

There India shines in eastern gold;

And barb’rous nations at His word

Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.

To Him shall endless prayer be made,

And praises throng to crown His head;

His Name like sweet perfume shall rise

With every morning sacrifice.

People and realms of every tongue

Dwell on His love with sweetest song;

And infant voices shall proclaim

Their early blessings on His Name.

Blessings abound wherever He reigns;

The prisoner leaps to lose his chains;

The weary find eternal rest,

And all the sons of want are blessed.

Where He displays His healing power,

Death and the curse are known no more:

In Him the tribes of Adam boast

More blessings than their father lost.

Let every creature rise and bring

Peculiar honors to our King;

Angels descend with songs again,

And earth repeat the loud amen!

Great God, whose universal sway

The known and unknown worlds obey,

Now give the kingdom to Thy Son,

Extend His power, exalt His throne.

The sceptre well becomes His hands;

All Heav’n submits to His commands;

His justice shall avenge the poor,

And pride and rage prevail no more.

With power He vindicates the just,

And treads th’oppressor in the dust:

His worship and His fear shall last

Till hours, and years, and time be past.

As rain on meadows newly mown,

So shall He send his influence down:

His grace on fainting souls distills,

Like heav’nly dew on thirsty hills.

The heathen lands, that lie beneath

The shades of overspreading death,

Revive at His first dawning light;

And deserts blossom at the sight.

The saints shall flourish in His days,

Dressed in the robes of joy and praise;

Peace, like a river, from His throne

Shall flow to nations yet unknown.

Isaac Watts, 1674-1748

Another Lost Gospel...

I’m just properly catching up with this, but last week saw the launch (at the British Library in London, no less) of The Lost Gospel: Decoding the Sacred Text That Reveals Jesus’ Marriage to Mary Magdalene, by Simcha Jacobovici and Barrie Wilson.

From what I’ve been able to tell, it’s another variation of the story – ‘discovered’ and then ‘decoded’ by the special few – of Jesus’ marriage to Mary Magdalene, the mother of his two children. In this account, Mary, it seems, is a ‘co-Messiah’. As Jacobovici says: ‘She’s not just Mrs. Jesus, she is a co-deity, a co-redeemer, she’s called “Daughter of God” as he’s called “Son of God”.’

I’ve seen a number of summaries and helpful reflections and responses:

Arun Arora – ‘It’s not Lost, It’s not a Gospel, It’s a very naughty Marketing Campaign.’

Greg Carey – ‘We’re basically looking at a sensationalist money-making scheme here, and there’s nothing else to say about it.’

John Dickson – ‘Honestly, folks, this business about the discovery of a document revealing Jesus’ marriage to Mary Magdalene (and their two kids) is so entirely bunkum I feel embarrassed even commenting on it. But since quite a few have asked, I will swallow my pride and say...’

Dickson goes on to highlight 8 short points, worth reading if this is an area of interest or concern.

Journal of the Jesus Movement in its Jewish Setting

‘JJMJS is a peer- reviewed, open-access journal published in collaboration with Eisenbrauns, offering high quality research free of charge to a global audience. The journal aims to advance scholarship on this crucial period in the early history of the Jewish and Christian traditions when they developed into what are today known as two world religions, mutually shaping one another as they did so.’

See here for the Introduction to the journal from which the above paragraph is taken, and here for access to the first issue.

Simon Gathercole on the Gospel of Thomas

The latest briefing from Tyndale House features an interview with Simon Gathercole on the Gospel of Thomas, following the publication of a second monograph on the document.

‘The main reason I got into the study of the “other” Gospels is that I am always interested in the views people have about Jesus. After all, the question “Who is Jesus?” is and always has been at the heart of the Christian faith and of vital concern to Christians.’

Klaus D. Issler on Work in Jesus’ Parables

Klaus D. Issler has an essay in Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 57, 2 (2014) on ‘Exploring the Pervasive References to Work in Jesus' Parables’.

The Institute for Faith, Work & Economics has published a shorter, less-technical piece by him on the same topic: ‘Examining Jesus’ Inclusion of Work Roles in His Parables’. The article unfolds in three parts: (1) Jesus at Work as a Tradesman; (2) The Majority of Jesus’ Parables Include Work in the Main Storyline; (3) Considering the Three Main Workforce Sectors Today.

He explores similar subject matter in shorter articles, ‘Jesus at Work’ and ‘Jesus Values Business’, excerpted or adapted from his book, Living into the Life of Jesus: The Formation of Christian Character (Downers Grove: IVP, 2012).

From my perspective, a biblical theology of work needs more than appeals to Jesus’ own trade and the references to work in his parables, but such certainly provides helpful background colour which is totally in line with what Scripture says elsewhere about the value of work in God’s design for men and women.

Contract or Covenant?

[I contributed today’s ‘Word for the Week’, a weekly email service provided by the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity. It’s the ninth in a series on Jesus’ parables.]

For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day and sent them into his vineyard... The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner.

Matthew 20:1-2, 9-11

A landowner hires five sets of workers at different times of the day. Those recruited at dawn are promised a day’s wage, and those hired subsequently are assured they will be paid ‘whatever is right’; but when settlement time arrives, all receive the same. Small wonder that the action of the landowner has often been likened to God’s goodness in welcoming all, regardless of merit, into the kingdom.

Another reading has gained traction in recent years which argues that parables like this one show how oppression serves the interests of a ruling class. In this case, the parable depicts two extremes of agrarian society: a ruthless landowner and desperate peasants who are in no position to bargain. Far from being generous, the owner exploits an unemployed workforce to meet his harvesting needs.

For sure, the situation and characters reflect the economic realities of Jesus’ day, realities he was not averse to criticising. Here, though, the introduction suggests the landowner represents something of how God rules. And it’s possible to see him positively, not as ruthless, nor even incompetent in calculating how many workers he’d need to recruit, but in being compassionate to those in need of employment. What’s more, the parable begins and ends with a reference to the last being first and the first being last (19:30; 20:16). Who is ‘last’ and ‘first’ is highlighted with the order in which the workers are employed and then paid, the structure of the parable reinforcing the message of reversal in its frame.

Our response to the parable probably has a lot to do with where we see our place in the line – near the front or at the back. That we instinctively sympathise with the aggrieved workers suggests the difficulty of detaching ourselves from the conviction that rewards should match service rendered. Then as now, the parable challenges our sense of entitlement.

It also spotlights the nature of our relationship to the master. Those hired first are given the wages they have earned; what is given to those hired last is based less on their rights than on the owner’s right to be generous – the difference between a contract and a covenant. The parable helps us examine how far our discipleship is governed by contractual obligations rather than covenantal service. In doing so, it reorientates us towards the gracious presence of the kingdom. This is the way God rules.

Not Always Front-Page News

[I contributed today’s ‘Word for the Week’, a weekly email service provided by the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity. It’s the seventh in a series on Jesus’ parables.]

He told them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.’ He told them still another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.’

Matthew 13:31-33

Languishing in prison, John the Baptist began to wonder whether Jesus really was ‘the one to come’. Things hadn’t worked out as he’d expected. It was not easy to see how an itinerant preacher from an inconsequential village, with a small band of followers, could be the hopes of Israel.

We too might sometimes puzzle over where and how God is at work in the world today. Or perhaps we don’t feel big enough or strong enough or important enough to make a difference where we are. Or we’re painfully aware that the church doesn’t look too impressive in the grand scheme of things.

And yet, ‘whoever has ears, let them hear...’

Jesus compares God’s reign to a mustard seed, proverbial for its tininess, planted in a field, which becomes a bush big enough to provide shelter for birds. Then Jesus likens the kingdom to yeast mixed into a large lump of dough, working its way through the whole lot, yielding enough bread to feed over a hundred people.

Old Testament passages have suggested to some that the tree refers to God’s sovereignty which provides shelter for the nations, the ‘birds’. Others have not been slow to point out the permeating influence of the yeast. But beyond these finer points of possible significance, what unites both parables is a striking contrast – between a tiny seed and a full-grown plant, between a small amount of yeast and a large lump of dough. The essential element is not the greatness of God’s reign or the transformation it will bring – neither of which would be doubted by Jesus’ hearers – so much as that what it will one day bring will be out of all proportion to its seemingly unimpressive, easily overlooked presence now.

For us, as for the first disciples, it’s an encouragement that God is at work – even if we don’t always see it as clearly as we’d like to. Indeed, something about the images Jesus uses reinforces the apparently ‘ordinary’ mode by which God’s reign is present – not always in an overwhelming display of cosmic strength, but no less significant for that. Jesus anticipates the powerful intervention of God in the fulness of time, but he also teaches that God’s liberating sovereignty and love is already present, with disciples called to live now in the light of that coming reign.

Mystery and Blessing

[I contributed today’s ‘Word for the Week’, a weekly email service provided by the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity. It’s the sixth in a series on Jesus’ parables. Somewhat foolishly perhaps, I chose the passage about why Jesus speaks in parables, and I fear the reflections below are barely adequate for the issues involved.]

The disciples came to him and asked, ‘Why do you speak to the people in parables?’ He replied, ‘The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them... But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear.’

Matthew 13:10-11, 16

How, we might ask, does God exercise his kingly power in the world? And Jesus responds with stories of a farmer sowing seed, of yeast in a lump of dough, of treasure hidden in a field, of a net full of fish, of a man hiring workers for his vineyard, of a wedding banquet, of ten bridesmaids... Puzzled? Jesus’ parables are bound up with his announcement that God has begun to exercise his longed-for reign on earth – but it’s not always easy to see the links. Even the disciples found it difficult to draw the dots between the one and the other.

Jesus’ parables are often thought to be down-to-earth stories illustrating points which people would readily understand. But in many cases, instead of making the message clearer, they appear to make it harder to get! And there lies the challenge: implicit in every parable is a question – are your ears and eyes open to what God is doing?

Jesus’ answer to the disciples’ question gives us a clue – maybe even the key – to what’s happening when he teaches in parables. The disciples are distinguished from the crowds not by their instant and intuitive understanding of the parables, but by their seeking of explanations, and by having the ‘secrets of the kingdom’ revealed to them. So it is that they are ‘blessed’, says Jesus, not because they are cleverer than others, or more deserving than others, but because God has given to them what he has not given to others – just as God granted Daniel access to the divine ‘mystery’ that the Babylonian sages were unable to understand.

In this case, the disciples witness God fulfilling his promises of salvation, even though it’s not happening like most people thought it would or should. One day God’s rule will embrace the whole earth, but he is already at work in unexpected ways – and each of the parables in Matthew 13 illustrates something of this tension between the ‘already’ and the ‘not yet’ of God’s reign.

For us too comes the challenge and incredible privilege of discerning God at work in the everyday, perhaps in quiet and unanticipated ways. Now as then – for those blessed with eyes to see and ears to hear – it’s possible to detect the extraordinary in the ordinary. Where will you see evidence of his reign today?