Why Are The Jews Chosen?

By David Novak 4/2010

     One way anti-Jewish sentiment has been interpreted is simply as a quid pro quo. Gentile animosity, in this view, does to the Jews what the Jews have done, or at least would like to do, to Gentiles—because we Jews present ourselves as the chosen people. In the seventeenth century, Baruch Spinoza suggested that the Jews made the Gentiles hate them by claiming to be God’s people and setting themselves apart by their practice of circumcision—the bodily sign of God’s covenantal election. In 1938, immediately after the Nazi pogroms of Kristallnacht, George Bernard Shaw wondered why the Jews were complaining so loudly; after all, wasn’t this what the chosen people did to the Canaanites in the process of conquering the promised land?

     In this view of Jewish chosenness—given its clearest expression, after the Holocaust, in George Steiner’s 1999 novel The Portage to San Cristóbal of A.H.—envy of the Jews’ claim made the Nazis do two things. The first was to accuse the Jews not only of having invented their chosenness but also of having invented the God who chose them. As Steiner’s Hitler asks, “Was there ever a crueler invention, a contrivance more calculated to harrow human existence, than that of an omnipotent, all-seeing, yet invisible, impalatable, inconceivable God?” And the second was to argue that, because there can be only one chosen people, it must be either the Jews or (in this case) the Germans. One must extinguish the other from the face of the earth. There is no possible middle ground, no possible compromise.

     There are Jews today who seem to hold this view, even if they do not like to ascribe it, as Steiner does, to Hitler. They have concluded that if the affirmation of chosenness by God is the cause of near extinction, Jews must root that affirmation out entirely. And for some Jews, this denial of election means denial of God—a denial that fits, unfortunately, with the atheistic agenda of some of the more radical Jewish secularists, who think they can build a thoroughly secular Judaism. The denial lives at a primal, emotional level: “Since God’s choice of us Jews has led to death and destruction, we now unchoose Him!” This is the dead-god atheism of Nietzsche rather than the there-never-was-a-god atheism of Feuerbach.

     I remember this myth being thrown in my face little more than ten years after the Holocaust, when, as a Jewish teenager, I was confronted in our Chicago high school by another Jewish student—Sam, who screamed at me for wanting “to be chosen by that god,” after most of his family in Europe was murdered in Auschwitz. Compared to Sam’s anger, the occasional taunts from Gentile classmates were mild. And ever since that afternoon in 1956, I have tried to think of what I should, or could, have said in response.

     Along the way, I also have found that Sam is legion.

David Novak, a member of the First Things editorial and advisory board, is the J. Richard and Dorothy Shiff Professor of Jewish Studies at the University of Toronto.

Terror and trust: Responding to fear with faith

By Trillia Newbell 1/11/17

     On January 6, travelers gathered around the baggage claim of the Fort Lauderdale airport awaiting their luggage and not knowing that their lives were to be taken or changed forever. Esteban Santiago had a sinister plan, one that callously ignored the value of the lives of those people. A security guard and Iraq veteran, he opened gunfire, killing five individuals and injuring many others.

     It’s yet another event of unimaginable carnage at the hands of one of our own. Families have been destroyed, and the rest of us are left to pray and fight against fear. Flying leaves many in fear, but I imagine it never once crossed their minds that entering the baggage claim area might mean they would never exit.

     I don’t know the type of terror they experienced. I’ve never experienced someone ambushing me or been in close proximity to the sudden loss of life by the hands of another. I imagine those who survived this tragedy must struggle with something like post traumatic shock. It would be difficult not to fear public places. They are also grieving the loss of loved ones, friends, and—in one case—grandparents. Many were affected by one man’s evil act. Tragic events like this one make us aware of our need for faith in these troubling days.

     The Bible says there’s nothing new under the sun. Although this particular case has yet to be officially named “an act of terror,” I will use the term “terror,” not as a political or distinction of the law, but rather because Santiago’s actions indeed caused terror. Terror has been a part of our world since Genesis 3. But what’s new is our nearly instantaneous awareness of such events due to breaking news and information from the Internet.

     Awareness can be a gift and a curse. If we dwell on the evil of this world, we run into the danger of mourning as a people without hope. But because we have the hope of the gospel and the hope of a new heaven and earth, we can instead learn about these hard stories in order to comfort the mourning or fearful around us, prepare our own hearts for the possibility of terror and also to pray. Each year brings with it stories of terror and destruction. There’s never been a year that has been perfect since that dreadful day sin came into the world. So, how are we to respond to these facts?

• 1     God's Very Good Idea: A True Story of God's Delightfully Different Family
• 2     Fear and Faith: Finding the Peace Your Heart Craves
• 3     Enjoy: Finding the Freedom to Delight Daily in God's Good Gifts
• 4     United: Captured by God's Vision for Diversity

Pro-Nicene Theology: Theology and Economy in Scripture

By Fred Sanders 12/15/2016

     In Lewis Ayres’s latest post in this series, he showed the use that Greek patristic theologians made of the terms theologia and oikonomia. The fathers reached for this pair of terms to make the crucial distinction between God’s own eternal nature, on the one hand, and God’s actions toward creation, on the other hand. The distinction is a biblical one, but we cannot discern it in Scripture simply by looking for the words themselves; we must look at broader phenomena of the biblical witness.

     The ability to make such a distinction is crucial for Christian doctrine, and not just for the purpose of keeping God and the world hermetically sealed off from each other to achieve conceptual tidiness. On the contrary, the more we want to affirm that God is intimately involved with creation and covenantally committed to human salvation, the more we will find this distinction necessary. No doubt this is why the pair of terms came into its own in the fourth century. In sending his Son, God took such direct divine action in the world that it became absolutely necessary to reach clarity about whether the Son was God or a creature, and so the pro-Nicenes learned to speak of Christ kata theologia and kata oikonomia. Unless we can distinguish God’s eternal being from his free action, we will always be in danger of the Arianizing error of taking the Son’s condescension to be definitive of his nature.

     To trace the exegetical warrant for this distinction, it is not enough to take up the New Testament and look through it for occurrences of the Greek words theologia and oikonomia. For one thing, the first term in the pair simply does not occur in the New Testament, and even if we were willing to compound it from its parts (ta logia tou theou, Rom 3:2; Heb 5:12, etc.), it would not refer to deity as such (as it does in the patristic usage) but to the word of, or about, deity. And if we then cast about for another word or phrase in the New Testament that did refer to deity (perhaps theotetos, or pleroma tes theotetos from Col 2:9), we would be getting further off the scent of our quarry. What we want is not the particular words, or functional substitutes for the words taken in and of themselves, but the distinction marked by their pairing. If we go looking for the exegetical warrant for the patristic distinction between theologia and oikonomia, what we are asking is whether the Bible itself makes the judgment that God is one thing and his works are another, even in Christ. We want to know if Scripture teaches us to think of a relationship between the reality of God’s own being and the entire scope of God’s gracious actions toward creation.

     If Scripture does so, what we are glimpsing in the pairing of theologia and oikonomia is an astonishing doctrinal vista. Our attention is drawn to the fact that the transcendent God, in all his mystery and ineffability, stands behind the central actions of salvation history, and that these actions of salvation history, if grasped as a single differentiated whole with an inner integrity binding its integrated parts, is a free and gracious manifestation of God. The relationship limned by the theologia-oikonomia distinction is too comprehensive to be just one of the many things made known in the Bible. It points to the central theme of all of Scripture: that God is with us to be our salvation in the work of Christ and the Spirit, and that we know the true God by knowing the Son and the Spirit sent by the Father.

     Is it helpful to ask what particular words the Bible itself uses when it wants to indicate this relation? Should we ransack the Scriptures in search of a term that means “God in himself” and see if it is brought into significant relationship to a term meaning “the entire history of salvation?” Alert readers could certainly be urged to keep an eye out for such formulations; a major claim like the one we are describing must show up in numerous particular forms in Scripture, in addition to being a kind of mega-claim that suffuses the whole. But the vastness of the topic tends to produce an unmanageably wide variety of forms of speech. Among the terms we would have to include are terms like “all that the prophets have spoken,” “the full counsel of God,” and a host of less conspicuous terms like “your law.” When Moses asks to see God’s glory, God permits him instead to see his passing by: this would make an awkward set of terms to try to use in theological communication, but the theologia-oikonomia judgment itself is concealed here in narrative idiom. But who could ever be sure they had put their finger on all of the ways that the Bible alludes to the presence and perfection of God? Is it going too far to say that every instance of divine self-naming in Scripture underlines the identity of God in himself, or that the frequent distinctions between “heaven and earth” draws attention to the difference we are describing, or that the way Paul belabors the word “all” (consider Colossians 1:16-20) is a way of summarizing the entire scope of reality that stands over against Christ as God?

Fred Sanders is Professor of Theology at Biola University's Torrey Honors Institute. He has an MDiv from Asbury Theological Seminary and PhD from Graduate Theological Union. He is the co-editor of Christology, Ancient and Modern: Explorations in Constructive Dogmatics (Los Angeles Theology Conference Series).

Fred Sanders Books:

• 1     Advancing Trinitarian Theology: Explorations in Constructive Dogmatics (Los Angeles Theology Conference Series)
• 2     The Triune God (New Studies in Dogmatics)
• 3     The Deep Things of God: How the Trinity Changes Everything
• 4     Jesus in Trinitarian Perspective: An Intermediate Christology
• 5     The Voice of God in the Text of Scripture: Explorations in Constructive Dogmatics (Los Angeles Theology Conference Series)
• 6     Advancing Trinitarian Theology: Explorations in Constructive Dogmatics (LA Theology Conference Series)
• 7     Wesley on the Christian Life: The Heart Renewed in Love
• 8     Theology and California: Theological Refractions on California's Culture
• 9     Embracing the Trinity: Life with God in the Gospel

Historicity Of Pontius Pilate, Governor Of Judaea.

By James Bishop 8/11/15

     Pontius Pilate plays a significant role in the New Testament gospel accounts. He was the governor of the Roman province of Judaea (26 – 36 AD), and was the person who took charge over the trial of Jesus and who subsequently ordered his crucifixion. But what of his historicity and what can we know about him?

     Right off the bat our historical evidence is very convincing. We have textual evidence of his activities and existence from our four biographical gospels (Mark, Matthew, Luke, John), and Roman historian Cornelius Tacitus (The Annals: The Reigns of Tiberius, Claudius, and Nero (Oxford World's Classics)). Tacitus tells us that: “Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus.” Jewish-Roman historian Josephus Flavius also chronicles an episode involving Pilate. According to Flavius he spent money from the Temple on an aqueduct he wanted to build. He also ordered his troops attack and silence the Jewish opposition (Antiquities of the Jews). Another crucial text comes from Jewish philosopher The Works of Philo: Complete and Unabridged, New Updated Edition. He tells us that Pilate had a “furious temper,” and was “relentless[ness].” (On The Embassy of Gauis Book XXXVIII 299–305).

     What is important is that these sources are very early. For instance, Pilate was governor from 26 – 36 AD, and our sources date very close to this time. For example, Mark (70 AD), Luke (80 – 85 AD), Matthew (80 – 85 AD), John (90 AD), Antiquities (96 AD), and Annals (116 AD). These textual sources all fall within a 100 year time gap after Pilate’s life. For an analogy, compare these sources with our earliest source for the Buddha, the epic poem Aśvaghoṣa, that comes in around 500 years after his existence! Furthermore, I could not find the date of Philo’s biography ‘On The Embassy of Gauis’ (On the Embassy to Gaius) despite looking through several sources. Nevertheless, theologian and historian Peter Harris sketches out what we can know about Jesus and Pilate from the gospels: “It is therefore possible to provide an outline of the information the Gospels commonly furnish as follows: Christ is sent by the Jewish High Council to Pilate for trial on the mendacious charge of lèse majesté. Pilate interrogates Christ, finds him not guilty and tries to persuade the crowd that he should be released. The crowd adamantly refuses, so Pilate, to pacify them, has Christ flogged and then crucified (Matthew 27:11-26; Mark 15:2-15; Luke 23:2-3, 18-25; John 18:29-19:16).”

     Beyond our gospel texts, and other primary materials, there are later sources mentioning Pilate, such as by the bishop Eusebius (living 260 – 340 AD), 10th century Arabic Christian writer Agapius of Hierapolis, as well as the Acts of Pontius Pilate. The Acts of Pilate, referred to by Justin Martyr in AD 150 and by Tertullian around 200 AD, is claimed to record miracles of Jesus, however this document was never found. There is a slightly earlier text than these, although it is highly legendary: the Gnostic Gospel of Peter (150–200 AD). Peter (who never actually wrote this text as it is a forgery and falsely attributed to him as its author, also known as pseudepigrapha) also adds a highly colourful, legendary composition of Jesus, and his empty tomb episode. Harris summarizes these sources as “unsubstantiated legends and [hold] no objective accounts.”

     However, despite being legendary, and mostly without value, it is important to note that these textual sources were all written with the assumption that Pilate existed, thus his existence was never disputed by any ancient writer throughout history. When we add our other primary textual sources (as noted above) to the pile it is beyond doubt that Pilate existed, and that we can actually know details about him.

Read The Psalms In "1" Year

Psalm 8

5 Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
6 You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
you have put all things under his feet,
7 all sheep and oxen,
and also the beasts of the field,
8 the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,
whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

9 O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Pontius Pilate - Have the Gospels Got it Right?

By Peter Harris

     Are the Gospels Accurate in Their Presentation of Pontius Pilate?

     Of course, no one knows what Pilate looked like and Giotto’s painting is the consequence of an artist’s imagination filling that gap. What is of greater importance than Pilate’s physical appearance to the Christian apologist defending the historical status of the Gospels is that the Gospels’ accounts of how Pilate and the Jerusalem mob behaved at Christ’s trial are consistent with each other and conform to what is known extra-biblically regarding Roman justice and the turbulent relationship that existed between Pilate and his resentful imperial subjects. Moreover, it is possible to demonstrate that the Gospels’ congruous testimony regarding Pilate’s existence is supported by the testimony of the available archaeological evidence as well as of extra-biblical written sources whose writers, if anything, were hostile to Christianity and had no reason to aid its survival. That Pilate can be shown to have lived is part of the broader project of demonstrating that the Gospel narratives speak of historical personages and therefore cannot be treated, on that point at least, as layers of myth. With regards to the specific details of Pilate’s broader career and character, something is known, though not with complete certitude. The details of Pilate’s life after he was deposed as procurator in AD 36 are, however, putative, for at this point the historian runs into an obfuscating wall of subjective narratives.

     The Synoptic Gospels and the Johannine Gospel are consistent in their presentation of Pilate and the events in which he was caught up and failed to control. However, the Synoptics devote less textual space to Pilate than John’s Gospel where Pilate is depicted through John’s characteristically long dialogues in arguably the most sympathetic of the Gospels’ presentments. Twice Pilate is recorded as interrogating Christ: the first time his tone appears sarcastic and condescending, particularly when he attempts to catch Christ out with the question, what is truth? (John 18:38). The second interview shows Pilate afraid and genuinely curious, for he has heard from Christ’s accusers that Christ claims to be the Son of God (19:8). When he presents Christ to the crowd, he describes Christ as their king with perhaps genuine conviction (19:14). It is conceivable that John is hinting that Pilate saw in Christ something unusual that the Sanhedrin and their allies could not, or would not, but which his polytheistic and syncretistic Roman mind could not quite understand. It is Christ’s innocence coupled with the sense of Christ’s uniqueness that accounts for the procurator’s repeated, but vain, attempts to exonerate this most exceptional of prisoners and his benign assent to Joseph of Arimathea’s request to give Christ a decent burial rather than leave his body to decompose on the cross (John 19:12; Matthew 27:57-58; Mark 15:43-46; Luke 23:50-54).

     However, the differences between the Synoptic Gospels and John’s Gospel’s account of Pilate’s actions are nuances of focus and style rather than contradictions. It is therefore possible to provide an outline of the information the Gospels commonly furnish as follows: Christ is sent by the Jewish High Council to Pilate for trial on the mendacious charge of lèse majesté. Pilate interrogates Christ, finds him not guilty and tries to persuade the crowd that he should be released. The crowd adamantly refuses, so Pilate, to pacify them, has Christ flogged and then crucified (Matthew 27:11-26; Mark 15:2-15; Luke 23:2-3, 18-25; John 18:29-19:16).

     Both Matthew and John give Pilate the title of governor or hēgēmon which is used to refer to the Roman procurators (Matthew 27:11; John 18:28). Historians inform us that a governor or procurator’s role was to govern a conquered region on behalf of the Emperor. To do so, the procurator possessed the powers of full imperium which meant that he possessed criminal and jurisdictional authority, military power and the authority to raise taxes to ensure that revenue from the province flowed back to the imperial coffers. As supreme magistrate for the region, he alone held the prerogative of passing the death sentence. The Gospels’ accounts of the Sanhedrin’s sending Christ to Pilate to secure his execution and the demands made directly to Pilate by the mob for Christ’s execution are therefore consistent with historical knowledge (Matthew 27:20; Mark 15:11-15; Luke 23:13-23; John 18:31).[4] Military experience would have constituted an important part of Pilate’s curriculum vitae, for procurators were appointed to turbulent provinces. Judea was certainly such a province as the Jews were renowned for their strong sense of divine destiny and therefore were deeply resentful of foreign occupation. Nationalists and their renegade prophets capable of stirring up revolution and the banditry endemic to the countryside made wise, firm government necessary – something of which not all the governors sent by Rome were capable. Within such a context of violent nationalism, the charge made against Christ to Pilate that he had incited rebellion against Rome was, as the Sanhedrin well knew, a dangerous and effective one, and again accords with what historians know of first century Palestine (Luke 23:13,14).

‘Silence’ Movie Lead Andrew Garfield Prepared for Role by Finding Jesus

By Megan Briggs 1/13/2017

     In preparation for his role as Sebastian Rodrigues in the movie Silence, Andrew Garfield practiced the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius. While his goal was simply to prepare for an acting role, he ended up finding Jesus and “falling in love” with him.

     Garfield told America Magazine, “I felt so bad for [Jesus] and angry on his behalf when I finally did meet him, because everyone has given him such a bad name… And he has been used for so many dark things.”

     It’s a little ironic that a film ( from the book Silence: A Novel (Picador Classics) ) portraying Jesuit priests losing their faith in the face of persecution in Japan would be the catalyst for Garfield’s newfound relationship with Jesus. Yet, it was the practice of meditating on Scripture and praying that eventually led Garfield to acknowledge Jesus’ presence in his life.

     Garfield described the exercises of St. Ignatius as a “transformational process where you do the imaginative, meditative prayers with the life of Jesus, where you place yourself in each [New Testament] scene, much like being an actor.”

     In addition to the exercises of Ignatius, Garfield went on a week-long silent retreat with actor Adam Driver (who also had a role in the movie Silence). He was mentored by a Jesuit priest, Father James Martin, who trained him as if he were going to become a priest.

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Should We Pray the Imprecatory Psalms?

William Ross 03-17-2015

     In light of the recent execution of 21 Christians and capture of hundreds more in Syria, perhaps it’s time to ask, “Should we be praying the imprecatory  Psalms against ISIS?” Written in the theocratic context of Israel, when God himself had a throne on earth, these  Psalms (e.g.,  Ps. 58; 69; 109 ) invoke God’s judgment upon Israel’s enemies in terrifying terms (see  Ps. 58:8 ). While we profess that all Scripture is profitable ( 2 Tim. 3:16 ), we must carefully consider the ways in which that is true of these  Psalms.

     After all, we were once enemies of God ( Col. 1:21-22 ), but are now redeemed and called to love our neighbors ( Luke 10:27 ) and pray for our persecutors ( Matt. 5:44; Rom. 12:14 ). May we identify an enemy for divine destruction as the imprecatory  Psalms do? Can we do so in specific terms or only general ones? Are we not to expect persecution in this age and turn the other cheek ( Mark 13:13; Luke 21:17; Matt. 5:39 ) as we wait for Christ’s return ( 2 Cor. 1:5; Col. 1:24 )? These are complex questions.

     I want to explore how Scripture supports praying the imprecatory  Psalms in a personalized way, provided we exhibit a specific attitude. To pray for God to execute his righteous judgment upon evildoers is permissible and in certain ways even useful for believers. My aim here is also, in part, to provide Christians with a biblical account of the impulse we may feel to wish God’s destruction upon persecutors of our brothers and sisters in Christ.

The Psalter and Hermeneutics

     Three brief points on the use of the imprecatory  Psalms in prayer are in order. First, we should guard against overemphasizing the place of these  Psalms in the Christian life. The church is not undertaking the conquest of Canaan. Our mission rather is to care for souls as we take the gospel to all nations ( Matt. 28:19-20 ). We aim to expand and feed the flock, not to eradicate anything that isn’t a sheep. That is the difference between the gospel and Sharia. Praying the imprecatory  Psalms can be useful when done with this caution in mind.

     Secondly, we must recognize that the majority of the Psalter is non-violent. The instances where a psalmist speaks positively of violence are rare indeed. Wherever we do find imprecation in Scripture, it is not triumphalistic or gloating. Instead, it issues from a position of weakness and victimization ( Ps. 35:7; 69:1-3; 109:22-25 ). Imprecation recognizes God as the sole source of deliverance and righteous judgment ( Ps. 59:5; 40:13; 109:27 ). The only one laughing at the wicked is God himself ( Ps. 2:4; 37:13; 59:8 ). Praying the imprecatory  Psalms, then, can be useful when it acknowledges our impotence and participation in the persecuted body of Christ.

     Thirdly, when we pray the imprecatory  Psalms, we do not expect that God will send “the hornet” to exterminate ISIS as he did the Canaanites ( Josh. 24:12; Exod. 23:28 ). On the other hand, we are not necessarily asking God to execute the final judgment that will only come at Christ’s return, either. While that judgment is foreshadowed in these  Psalms —and in the conquest more generally — God can and does intervene in creation as he upholds it. In that sense, he may arrange for the downfall of specific evildoers according to his will even before Christ’s return. God hears and answers the prayers of his people in a variety of ways. On those grounds, the imprecatory  Psalms may be directed at specific evildoers as an expression of our desire for God’s Kingdom on earth today ( Luke 18:6-8 ).

God’s Sovereignty and Our Finitude

     Now, two points on applying the imprecatory  Psalms.

     First, we must recognize God’s sovereignty in acting out his own justice on evil. To be sure, until that judgment, Jesus commands us to love our enemies, to pray for them, even to bless them ( Luke 6:27-28; Rom. 12:20; 1 Pet. 3:9 ). Jesus spoke more about love than bearing the sword ( Matt. 10:34-35; Luke 12:51-53 ). In similar fashion, Paul instructed Christians to “bless and do not curse” our persecutors ( Rom. 12:14 ).

     But this instruction does not prohibit calling evil what it is, and desiring that God deal with it promptly and specifically. We see this most clearly in  Revelation 6:9-10 where the heavenly martyrs call out for justice and vengeance. Theirs is an intensely personal concern: they ask God to avenge “our blood upon those who dwell on earth.” It is important to note that while the heavenly martyrs are issuing a personalized imprecation, it is nevertheless divinely mediated. Their imprecation is qualified by the sovereignty and agency of God himself to answer their prayer.

     Second, we must distinguish between cursing our personal enemies ourselves ( Col. 3:8 ) and calling upon God to curse his enemies. This distinction is evident in  Romans 12:14. While Paul instructs us not to curse others, he does not prohibit asking God to pour out his justice. The distinction is subtle but important. In the former we condemn men on our own terms and make ourselves gods; in the latter we beseech the King and recognize his holiness and our finitude.

     In that sense, when making specific imprecation, we must always balance “Father, save the lost!” with “Father, pour out your wrath upon evil!” The contingency that holds together these two ideas properly submits to God’s sovereignty — his justice and mercy — without assuming that only one of the two options will bring him glory. Paul does not shy away from personal imprecation as he puts this principle to use in  1 Corinthians 16:22: “If anyone has no love for the Lord, then let him be accursed!” (cf.  Gal. 1:8-9 ). As Christians redeemed by Christ, we can simultaneously recognize the forgiveness of our own sin and the fact that sin itself grounds our appeal for God’s judgment.

No Light Matter

     None of this counsel implies that praying imprecatory  Psalms is a light matter. Far from it. As others have pointed out, some consider it a spiritual “nuclear option.”

     Nevertheless, “there is a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace” ( Eccl. 3:8 ). Lord willing, his justice will be meted out, and ISIS and similar perversions of the truth will be snuffed out swiftly and completely. But we may have only seen the beginning of this evil.  While it is a terrible thing to desire God’s judgment to fall upon unrepentant creatures, it is worse still for evil to go unpunished.  For that reason, I pray that Christians will exercise wisdom in their intercession for the persecuted church. As we do so, let us always recognize our own pardon from sin as creatures loved by God, and magnify the sovereignty and justice of the King of heaven and earth.

Where Is God in the 'Silence'?

By Dr. William Brown 1/13/17

     Many years ago, I read Shushaku Endo’s novel Silence: A Novel (Picador Classics).” Endo tells the story of two young Portuguese priests who travel to Japan to discover what happened to their mentor, who disappeared during widespread persecution. What they encounter strips them spiritually bare and plunges them into a world of suffering, denial, and despair.

     At the time, “Silence” was disturbing for me. I could not disassociate myself from the story. The Christ I knew and loved was not hidden. He was there, front and center, silent to the suffering of his most passionate children. But in “Silence,” the heroes who placed their lives on the line were filled with doubt and fear. They cried out to God. Where was He? Why was He silent?

     When I finished the book, I threw it across the room. I had to read this book as a seminary assignment and when I finished I did the same thing, lol. The story, as told by Endo, would be absurd, if it were not true. When missionaries arrived in Japan in the mid-16th century, Christianity quickly flourished, with estimates of 300,000 Japanese believers. Almost immediately, local edicts were passed to rid the country of the foreign religion. The Tokugawa shogunate banned Christianity in 1620 and the church went underground. The brutal persecutions continued until the populace was essentially cleansed of Christians.

     Martin Scorsese’s film version of “Silence,” almost three decades in the making, closely follows Endo’s book. Father Sebastiao Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Father Francisco Garrpe (Adam Driver) convince their superior to allow them to travel to Japan to discover the truth about their mentor, Father Cristavao Ferreira (Liam Neeson). Rumor has it that he apostatized—denied his faith in Christ—and is no longer serving as a priest. In fact, it is said he has taken a Japanese wife.

     The men are concerned the rumors about his apostasy could damage the belief of many in Portugal, where Ferreira was well-known for his courage and conviction. Naively, Rodrigues and Garrpe think they can uncover the mystery of Ferreira’s fate. If the rumors are true, the two priests could restore Ferreira to faith, or at least mitigate the damage by serving in his stead.

     Leaving the comfortable security of Europe, they arrive in Japan and are plunged into a world of horror. They are met by a small group of believers who hide them from the eyes of those who could report them. The two set about ministering to the Christians, but eventually news of their presence makes its way to the inquisitors. Soon, the Christians they serve are faced with torment and execution.

     The brutality of the persecutions is difficult to watch. Many episodes of torture in the film may rightly be considered redundant, but Scorsese’s passion for the original source is relentless and he conveys it faithfully. The religious environment is pitiless. Anyone found in possession of even the smallest religious trinket is suspect and forced to publicly admit his or her rejection of Christianity by placing a foot on an icon of Christ. If the person refuses, torture and death await.

     The two priests split up and are ultimately captured by the inquisitors. Rodrigues, thinking that he would vindicate his faith by martyrdom, discovers the chief inquisitor never intended to kill him. “We learned from our mistakes,” he tells Rodrigues. “Killing priests only makes them stronger.” When Rodrigues claims the victims around him “didn’t die for nothing,” the inquisitor replies, “No, they died for you.”

     The agony of Rodrigues’s guilt and uncertainty are difficult to bear as he realizes he alone has the power to stop the suffering of others. All he must do is put his foot on the face of Christ.

     Andrew Garfield plays the lead character with surprising depth. His boyish looks and soft voice contrast with the stark suffering and pain he endures, intensifying the sense of despair.

     The outstanding key portrayals of the chief inquisitor (played with almost humorous eccentricity by Issei Ogata) and the constantly confessing Kichijiro (Yôsuke Kubozuka) solidly anchor the film in a believable Japanese culture. The visuals are sometimes mesmerizing, with the South China Sea coast of Japan providing a stunning backdrop for many of the early scenes.

     Scorsese’s passion for Endo’s book makes the film lengthy (two hours and 41 minutes). But he is not giving us a film for popular entertainment. The film has a captivating, almost arthouse cinema atmosphere. Liam Neeson revealed the reverence that accompanied the filming by noting the sets were always quiet even with as many as a hundred crew members actively filming a scene.

     Some critics have complained there was no comforting resolution to all the suffering moviegoers must endure. But that is the point of the story. Scorsese desired to capture the central message of Endo’s work: “It is this painful, paradoxical passage—from certainty to doubt to loneliness to communion—that Endo understands so well, and renders so clearly, carefully and beautifully in Silence.”

     At the end of the book and movie, Christ speaks to Rodrigues: “I understand your pain and your suffering. It is for that reason I am here.” Rodrigues replies, “Lord, I resented your silence.” Christ responds, “I was not silent. I suffered beside you.”

     Endo’s understanding of God comes from a culture grown in the soil of Buddhism, where the first noble truth is “Life is Suffering.” The Buddhist concept of suffering is meant to convey the experience of life in the material world: “dissatisfaction, impermanence and imperfection.” To a culture steeped in this basic belief, the Western Christian refrain, “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life” rings hollow. Instead, Endo’s understanding of God and the message of Christ is “Life is suffering. God came and suffered with us and for us.”

     These points make Scorsese’s “Silence” the antithesis of most contemporary films of faith which tend to follow a “we have problems, God intervenes, problems solved” boilerplate. While this can provide comfort for some, the reality for many Christians around the world is God does not seem to intervene at all. We hear echoes of David’s cry, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide you face from me?” (Psalm 13:1) God’s silence can be unsettling and frightening.

     Interestingly, Endo’s first title was not “Silence” but “The Scent of the Sunshine (Hinata no Nioi).” “I did not write a book about the Silence of God,“ he said. “I wrote a book about the voice of God speaking through suffering and silence.”

     “Silence” forces us to think about the quality and even reality of our own faith. Most of us have lived our faith in a world of comfort. Imagine living in a culture where you are forced to watch others suffer unless you deny Christ. How would you respond? Is it really a test of faith to place your foot on a picture of Christ to stop the torture and murder of fellow believers? What if it was your family?

     Peter’s denial of Christ to a young woman seems rather tame compared to the horrific choices Rodrigues faced. We sometimes forget that our faith was forged in the fires of such defeats. “On the night He was betrayed” is how Paul describes the evening of the Last Supper.

     Betrayals and denials are difficult to observe, let alone accept. I think this is why I threw the book across the room. I wanted the book to portray courage and victory, or at least defiance and sacrifice.

     The next day I retrieved the book and dismissively replaced it on the shelf. But I was unable to dismiss the images, the sorrow and, yes, even the hope. I have since read all of Endo’s novels that have been translated into English. Not one of them disappoints. And like them, Scorsese’s masterpiece will cultivate substantive discussions about faith and faithfulness to Christ in our fallen world and renew our hope in His promises.

The Continual Burnt Offering

By H.A. Ironside - 1941

January 15

Complete in Thee! No work of mine
May take, O Lord, the place of Thine!
Thy blood has pardon bought for me,
And I am now complete in Thee.
--- A. R. Wolfe

The Problem Of The Old Testament

By James Orr 1907

The Problem of the Old Testament

The Polyglots

By Gleason Archer Jr.

A Survey of Old Testament Introduction

The Institutes of the Christian Religion

Translated by Henry Beveridge

     CHAPTER 6.

REDEMPTION FOR MAN LOST TO BE SOUGHT IN CHRIST.

The parts of this chapter are, I. The excellence of the doctrine of Christ the Redeemer--a doctrine always entertained by the Church, sec. 1. II. Christ, the Mediator in both dispensations, was offered to the faith of the pious Israelites and people of old, as is plain from the institution of sacrifice, the calling of Abraham's family, and the elevation of David and his posterity, sec. 2. III. Hence the consolation, strength, hope, and confidence of the godly under the Law, Christ being offered to them in various ways by their heavenly Father.

Sections.

1. The knowledge of God the Creator of no avail without faith in Christ the Redeemer. First reason. Second reason strengthened by the testimony of an Apostle. Conclusion. This doctrine entertained by the children of God in all ages from the beginning of the world. Error of throwing open heaven to the heathen, who know nothing of Christ. The pretexts for this refuted by passages of Scripture.

2. God never was propitious to the ancient Israelites without Christ the Mediator. First reason founded on the institution of sacrifice. Second reason founded on the calling of Abraham. Third reason founded on the elevation of David's family to regal dignity, and confirmed by striking passages of Scripture.

3. Christ the solace ever promised to the afflicted; the banner of faith and hope always erected. This confirmed by various passages of Scripture.

4. The Jews taught to have respect to Christ. This teaching sanctioned by our Saviour himself. The common saying, that God is the object of faith, requires to be explained and modified. Conclusion of this discussion concerning Christ. No saving knowledge of God in the heathen.

1. The whole human race having been undone in the person of Adam, the excellence and dignity of our origin, as already described, is so far from availing us, that it rather turns to our greater disgrace, until God, who does not acknowledge man when defiled and corrupted by sin as his own work, appear as a Redeemer in the person of his only begotten Son. Since our fall from life unto death, all that knowledge of God the Creator, of which we have discoursed, would be useless, were it not followed up by faith, holding forth God to us as a Father in Christ. The natural course undoubtedly was, that the fabric of the world should be a school in which we might learn piety, and from it pass to eternal life and perfect felicity. But after looking at the perfection beheld wherever we turn our eye, above and below, we are met by the divine malediction, which, while it involves innocent creatures in our fault, of necessity fills our own souls with despair. For although God is still pleased in many ways to manifest his paternal favour towards us, we cannot, from a mere survey of the world, infer that he is a Father. Conscience urging us within, and showing that sin is a just ground for our being forsaken, will not allow us to think that God accounts or treats us as sons. In addition to this are our sloth and ingratitude. Our minds are so blinded that they cannot perceive the truth, and all our senses are so corrupt that we wickedly rob God of his glory. Wherefore, we must conclude with Paul, "After that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe," (1 Cor. 1:21). By the "wisdom of God," he designates this magnificent theatre of heaven and earth replenished with numberless wonders, the wise contemplation of which should have enabled us to know God. But this we do with little profit; and, therefore, he invites us to faith in Christ,--faith which, by a semblance of foolishness, disgusts the unbeliever. Therefore, although the preaching of the cross is not in accordance with human wisdom, we must, however, humbly embrace it if we would return to God our Maker, from whom we are estranged, that he may again become our Father. It is certain that after the fall of our first parent, no knowledge of God without a Mediator was effectual to salvation. Christ speaks not of his own age merely, but embraces all ages, when he says "This is life eternal that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent," (John 17:3). The more shameful therefore is the presumption of those who throw heaven open to the unbelieving and profane, in the absence of that grace which Scripture uniformly describes as the only door by which we enter into life. Should any confine our Saviour's words to the period subsequent to the promulgation of the Gospel, the refutation is at hand; since on a ground common to all ages and nations, it is declared, that those who are estranged from God, and as such, are under the curse, the children of wrath, cannot be pleasing to God until they are reconciled. To this we may add the answer which our Saviour gave to the Samaritan woman "Ye worship ye know not what; we know what we worship: for salvation is of the Jews," (John 4:22). By these words, he both charges every Gentile religion with falsehood, and assigns the reason--viz. that under the Law the Redeemer was promised to the chosen people only, and that, consequently, no worship was ever pleasing to God in which respect was not had to Christ. Hence also Paul affirms, that all the Gentiles were "without God," and deprived of the hope of life. Now, since John teaches that there was life in Christ from the beginning, and that the whole world had lost it (John 1:4), it is necessary to return to that fountain; And, accordingly, Christ declares that inasmuch as he is a propitiator, he is life. And, indeed, the inheritance of heaven belongs to none but the sons of God (John 15:6). Now, it were most incongruous to give the place and rank of sons to any who have not been engrafted into the body of the only begotten Son. And John distinctly testifies that those become the sons of God who believe in his name. But as it is not my intention at present formally to discuss the subject of faith in Christ, it is enough to have thus touched on it in passing.

2. Hence it is that God never showed himself propitious to his ancient people, nor gave them any hope of grace without a Mediator. I say nothing of the sacrifices of the Law, by which believers were plainly and openly taught that salvation was not to be found anywhere but in the expiation which Christ alone completed. All I maintain is that the prosperous and happy state of the Church was always founded in the person of Christ. For although God embraced the whole posterity of Abraham in his covenant, yet Paul properly argues (Gal. 3:16), that Christ was truly the seed in which all the nations of the earth were to be blessed, since we know that all who were born of Abraham, according to the flesh, were not accounted the seed. To omit Ishmael and others, how came it that of the two sons of Isaac, the twin brothers, Esau and Jacob, while yet in the womb, the one was chosen and the other rejected? Nay, how came it that the first-born was rejected, and the younger alone admitted? Moreover, how happens it that the majority are rejected? It is plain, therefore, that the seed of Abraham is considered chiefly in one head, and that the promised salvation is not attained without coming to Christ, whose office it is to gather together those which were scattered abroad. Thus the primary adoption of the chosen people depended on the grace of the Mediator. Although it is not expressed in very distinct terms in Moses, it, however, appears to have been commonly known to all the godly. For before a king was appointed over the Israelites, Hannah, the mother of Samuel, describing the happiness of the righteous, speaks thus in her song, "He shall give strength unto his king, and exalt the horn of his anointed;" meaning by these words, that God would bless his Church. To this corresponds the prediction, which is afterwards added, "I will raise me up a faithful priest, and he shall walk before mine anointed for ever," (1 Sam. 2:10, 35). And there can be no doubt that our heavenly Father intended that a living image of Christ should be seen in David and his posterity. Accordingly, exhorting the righteous to fear Him, he bids them "Kiss the Son," (Psalm 2:12). Corresponding to this is the passage in the Gospel, "He that honoureth not the Son, honoureth not the Father," (John 5:23). Therefore, though the kingdom was broken up by the revolt of the ten tribes, yet the covenant which God had made in David and his successors behaved to stand, as is also declared by his Prophets, "Howbeit I will not take the whole kingdom out of his hand: but I will make him prince all the days of his life for David my servant's sake," (1 Kings 11:34). The same thing is repeated a second and third time. It is also expressly said, "I will for this afflict the seed of David, but not for ever," (1 Kings 11:39). Some time afterwards it was said, "Nevertheless, for David's sake did the Lord his God give him a lamp in Jerusalem, to set up his son after him, and to establish Jerusalem," (1 Kings 15:4). And when matters were bordering on destruction, it was again said, "Yet the Lord would not destroy Judah for David his servant's sake, as he had promised to give him alway a light, and to his children," (2 Kings 8:19).

The sum of the whole comes to this--David, all others being excluded, was chosen to be the person in whom the good pleasure of the Lord should dwell; as it is said elsewhere, "He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh;" "Moreover, he refused the tabernacle of Joseph, and chose not the tribe of Ephraim;" "But chose the tribe of Judah, the mount Zion which he loved;" "He chose David also his servant, and took him from the sheep folds: from following the ewes great with young he brought him to feed Jacob his people, and Israel his inheritance," (Ps. 78:60, 67, 70, 71). In fine, God, in thus preserving his Church, intended that its security and salvation should depend on Christ as its head. Accordingly, David exclaims, "The Lord is their strength, and he is the saving strength of his anointed;" and then prays "Save thy people, and bless thine inheritance;" intimating, that the safety of the Church was indissolubly connected with the government of Christ. In the same sense he elsewhere says, "Save, Lord: let the king hear us when we call," (Ps. 20:9). These words plainly teach that believers, in applying for the help of God, had their sole confidence in this--that they were under the unseen government of the King. This may be inferred from another psalm, "Save now, I beseech thee O Lord: Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord," (Ps. 118:25, 26). Here it is obvious that believers are invited to Christ, in the assurance that they will be safe when entirely in his hand. To the same effect is another prayer, in which the whole Church implores the divine mercy "Let thy hand be upon the Man of thy right hand, upon the Son of man, whom thou madest strong (or best fitted) for thyself," (Ps. 80:17). For though the author of the psalm laments the dispersion of the whole nations he prays for its revival in him who is sole Head. After the people were led away into captivity, the land laid waste, and matters to appearance desperate, Jeremiah, lamenting the calamity of the Church, especially complains, that by the destruction of the kingdom the hope of believers was cut off; "The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was taken in their pits, of whom we said, Under his shadow we shall live among the heathen," (Lam. 4:20). From all this it is abundantly plain, that as the Lord cannot be propitious to the human race without a Mediator, Christ was always held forth to the holy Fathers under the Law as the object of their faith.

     Christian Classics Ethereal Library / Public Domain

     Institutes of the Christian Religion