The Greatest Mystery Of Christmas

Today is Advent Sunday, and while the world may kick off their Christmas celebrations with Black Friday (how fitting in a consumer driven society), the Church has the grand opportunity to use this season to reflect upon the doctrine of the Incarnation. This is our time to ponder and stand in awe of the ultimate mystery that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory" (Jn 1:14). We often do a good job of understanding that Christ was born of a virgin and was born into poverty. We contemplate the events surrounding His birth as so much history. Then we skip to the Atonement. He came to die. The end.

It is true that one of the reasons Christ came was to die to redeem us, but maybe we shouldn't rush to the end of the story during this time of year. We have Lent, Good Friday and Easter to contemplate those aspects from a Church calendar standpoint. But this time of year is the season to wrap our minds around the fact of Emmanuel--"God with us." God one of us. The Incarnation is mind blowing. Trying to understand the intricacies of the Theandric Union can either fry our brains or fill us with wonder at the greatness of Almighty God.

Luther wrote: "It is not for the angels to be proud of Christ's incarnation, for Christ did not assume and angelic but a human nature. Therefore it would not be a surprise if the angels looked at us with envy in their eyes because we human beings, creatures far inferior to them and sinners besides, are placed above them into an honor so high and great. They worship Christ, who has become our Brother, our flesh and blood" (Serm. on Col. 1:18-20 quoted in Thomas Oden, The Word of Life).

We have a God who can identify with us! He knows, in an experiential way, our struggles and weaknesses. This is one of the messages of the Advent season. What might it mean that God became flesh? Not just in a systematic theological sort of way but in a personal way. Do we need to sit back and think about that one for a while? That's what this season is all about. That's the greatest mystery of Christmas.

(Originally published 2009 under the title "God With Us" @ www.4sixteen.blogspot.com)

Is It A Paradox To Be A Christian Engaged In Politics?

Can Christians be simultaneously committed to Jesus Christ and to the fallen and broken structures of our culture? The Christ and culture in paradox paradigm would say, “yes!” After all, we are all fallen human beings and cannot escape our broken world. In Martin Luther's thinking this was due to the fact that Christians are simul justus et peccator--simultaneously just and sinner. So what then does this mean for Christian involvement in politics?

In two of my previous posts, I addressed H. Richard Niebuhr's Christ and Culture paradigms and began to ask how Christians are to relate to their culture, especially in regards to politics. First we looked at "Christ transforming culture" then at "Christ against culture." Finding neither one of these 100% satisfactory, I then asked the question of whether the "Christ and culture in paradox" model might be the balance I find in the Scriptures. So let's have a look and see just what this model proposes and what its strengths and weaknesses are.

Perhaps the best way to define this paradigm is that it proposes that Christians can and should be simultaneously committed to Christ and the governmental structure--paradoxically holding to the separation of Church and State as two realms that are mutually exclusive, while believing that both realms are divinely instituted by God to govern in harmony with each other. Niebuhr often referred to people in this camp as "Dualists," who keep Christ and Culture separate while being a part of both. He gives Martin Luther as an example of this way of thinking, and, indeed, among Lutherans it is known as Two Kingdoms Theology.

This lengthy quotation by C. H. Little explains this view quite nicely:

“We Lutherans should honor the State as an institution of God for the regulation of the outward affairs of men, that we may lead quiet and peaceable lives here upon earth. God has given us this institution “for the punishment of evil doers and for the praise of them that do well” [1 Peter 2:14]. And for the execution of this purpose God has bestowed upon it the sword. The State has authority from God to employ force where this is necessary for the accomplishment of its ends.

The Church also is a Divine institution, but its realm is quite different from that of the State. It is limited to spiritual affairs. It touches matters which the State cannot reach -- religion, conscience, the thoughts and intents of the heart. God has entrusted it with the means of grace and has laid upon it the obligation to preach the Gospel and administer the Sacraments. The Church’s work is in a word evangelization. The Church has no sword but the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. She employs no force, but uses only the persuasive power of the Word. Church and State observing their appropriate spheres should dwell together in harmony. But the Reformed conception of the Church as a theocracy is strong; and the idea that people may be made righteous by governmental agencies has found a lodging even among Lutherans. And especially when some issue, like prohibition, comes to the front, representing itself as a moral issue, we find Lutheran bodies joining them in bombarding the government in the name of the Church to enact such legislation. They seem to think that the chief duty of the Church is to reform the world and set it right. They fail to realize that the Church in thus seeking to invade the province of the State is removing the only guarantee that the State may not someday reverse the process and invade the sphere of the Church by endeavoring to regulate its internal affairs.” (From Disputed Doctrines [Burlington, Iowa: Lutheran Literary Board,1933], pp. 88-90.)

The "Christ and culture paradox" or Two Kingdoms Doctrine seems like a good solution at this point, since it realizes that there will always be sin in government (because government is made up of sinful human beings), and that the Church is a presence of God's grace in the world that will effect change. Though it realizes the tension between our faith and sinful politics, it "looks only for resolution between the tensions" at Christ's return. Until then we are dual citizens who need to respect the sovereignty of both realms.

However, I, among others, believe that this model tends to separate Christian faith and the world in which we live. Operating within this model, Christians could tend towards viewing their convictions as personal and not work towards change in the world, allowing the political world to run by its own rules. Mr. Little describes the Church’s role as Word and Sacrament, but wouldn’t that include bringing the reality of those truths to bear upon our world, including the structures that control our everyday lives. It was because of the Gospel that men like William Wilberforce worked tirelessly to change the laws of England against slavery. John Wesley preached numerous sermons that called for the Gospel to call into question unjust laws and work for their transformation. We are whole people—not dual people. How can we serve two masters?

While I agree that Christians cannot and should not use force to evangelize, nor look to political structures and answers for transforming our world into the coming Kingdom of God, I do believe that the Church has a responsibility to be a light to the nations in such a way that “they may see [our] good deeds and glorify [our] Father in heaven” (see Matthew 5:14-16).

In Luther’s day, both politics and the Church looked very different than they do in our present context. Kings and Popes still ruled. The common people had little to no voice in the workings of either institution. So, I ask my Lutheran friends how living in a republic with voter responsibilities and rights plays out in the current workings of the Two Kingdoms Doctrine. I personally don’t see it as the best solution, but I would enjoy hearing from you on just how a Christian is to engage the culture—particularly politics.

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. 

Is a "Literal" Translation the Best?: Martin Luther Weighs In

“What is the best Bible translation? Should I go with a ‘literal’ translation (word for word) or a dynamic equivalent one (thought for thought)?” How many times have we had someone ask us those questions? How many books and blog posts have we read on the subject? If you’ve been a Christian-intellectual-in-training for a while, then you have probably seen or heard your fair share. Some people swear up and down that there is only one correct translation (usually the KJV) or method (usually the literal with its current champion the ESV) while all the other ones are an abomination.

One of my colleagues at seminary, the Rev. Chad Brooks, said that while he was working at a Christian bookstore he actually had a man come in and ask for “one of those Bibles like Paul carried.” Chad replied, “I’m sorry, sir, we are fresh out of scrolls.” That little story illustrates the fact that too few people understand—unless we read Greek and Hebrew we are not reading the Bible as it was originally written. I have written about this more fully in my post Kissing Through a Veil. But if we get locked in on one method or translation we may miss the actual message of the Scripture itself.

Interestingly enough, debates of this nature go back to the Reformation. While some Reformed churches today get their britches in a wad over “dynamic equivalent” translations versus “literal translations” (one thinks of the nearly fallacious claims made about the ESV over and above translations like the NLT or NIV for instance), Dr. Martin Luther was battling this way of thinking as early as 1530 A.D. He did it in high style, lambasting Papists and calling many people “asses” along the way.

A couple of weeks ago I read a short treatise called “An Open Letter On Translating.” [Click here to read it.] In it Luther justifies his translating methods, particularly surrounding his decision to include sola fide even though it was not in the original language. He writes, “It has been charged by the despisers of truth that the text has been modified and even falsified in many places, which has shocked and startled many simple Christians, even among the educated who do not know any Hebrew or Greek.” This could easily have been written last week, but he moves on to explain why this claim has been made in the first place. “The letters s-o-l-a are not there. And these knotheads stare at them like cows at a new gate, while at the same time they do not recognize that it conveys the sense of the text-if the translation is to be clear and accurate, it belongs there…We do not have to ask about the literal Latin or how we are to speak German—as these asses do. Rather we must ask the mother in the home, the children on the street, the common person in the market about this. We must be guided by their tongue, the manner of their speech, and do our translating accordingly. Then they will understand it and recognize that we are speaking German to them.”

Of course, he spends more space on his arguments than I have quoted here, but I hope you can catch the drift. For Luther, the most important thing was for common people to be able to understand the Bible in their own vernacular. He had no qualms in smoothing out idioms or shifting syntax to aid comprehension. I wonder how he would have weighed in on the subject if he were alive today.

 I would love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Please let us know what you’re favorite translation is and why.