Showing posts with label Year B First Sunday after Epiphany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Year B First Sunday after Epiphany. Show all posts

Friday, January 5, 2018

Mark 1:4-11


Mark 1:4-11 (NRSV)
4 John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” 9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

In Mark 1:4-8, Mark specifies the significance of John the Baptist. In verses 2-3, he has already understood scripturally the appearance of 4John the baptizer in the wilderness. The harsh Judean wilderness was like a desert. It might seem like an unlikely spot for the flowering of new faithfulness. The wilderness way is treacherous and only the essentials will find a place. The wilderness way is about survival, life and death, sin and grace. Preparing for wilderness travel is challenging work. It involves anticipating what might happen out there in the wilds and then preparing for it. Anticipation and preparation are the keys to wilderness survival. The desert had been the place where the Lord called Israel after Egyptian slavery in the exodus. The wilderness was where Israel lost its way in the 40-year wandering. John invites Israel back into the wilderness to repent. 

So much of what I know about John makes me think I would have gone out of my way not to see him. “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you odd,"[1] would apply to John.  He sounds too much like those street evangelists who wave their Bibles and tell you that you are going to straight to Hell unless you follow his directions. He would know whether you have successfully repented. Of course, such persons tend to plant themselves in your way. You have to cross the street to avoid them. They get in your face and dare you to ignore them. John planted himself in the middle of nowhere. He planted himself in the wilderness. If you wanted to hear him, you had to go out of your way and go through some trouble to hear him. Yet, many people in his day went through all of that to hear what John had to say to them. People felt drawn to him, not only because of who he was and what he said, but also because of what he offered them - a chance to come clean, to stop pretending they were someone else and start over. 

Therefore, we read that John came proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Mark views John as already connecting baptism and the forgiveness of sin, an important connection in the rest of the New Testament.[2] Such a theme is consistent with the prophetic tradition. It also is a difference between John and Jesus, for the latter did not baptize.[3] Repentance involves a turning around, a radical change of direction, involving the heart and will. Repentance involved the whole being of the repentant one. Repentance is the hopeful word of John, pointing out our self-deceiving beliefs that we are good, worthy, deserving of our salvation and reminding us that our lives need turning around. We need to experience the washing in the cleansing waters of baptism as we anticipate the coming of the one mightier than John is. One does not experience enlightenment by simply imagining the light. One must also become conscious of the darkness.[4] Every day is judgment day. Through our deeds and words, our silence and speech, we are writing in the Book of Life.[5] And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem turned from their settled and comfortable lives and were going out to him, turning toward the wilderness and the message of John, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan. The symbolic use of water has a connection with Jewish sects of the time. It was a form of ritual purification. The Essene community practiced it daily. Some groups practiced it to mark significant transitions in life. Jewish proselytes self-immersed in water. Josephus connected the baptism of John with ritual purification.[6] However, John invited the Jewish people to submit to his baptism.[7] Water symbolizes purifying of life. In this way, people came to John confessing their sins. Such persons joyfully participated in preparations for the coming of the Lord. Such preparation can only mean the rule of God is near. Submitting to baptism was a concrete expression of the act of repentance. Such confession took place before or during baptism. The good news as found in the preaching of John is that forgiveness of sin is already available. Thus, the first step is simple honesty. We sin, we wander, we lie, and we do not know how to save ourselves through our efforts. Repentance is the admission that in our sin we need to receive forgiveness. Yet, the first step has a close relation to the second step, in which we acknowledge that God forgives. The good news begins in Mark as John invites people to receive forgiveness. We can receive the gift of washing, cleansing, and new birth. We can start over, fresh, like a newborn infant. God forgives. Such is the beginning and end of the good news. For all sin, God forgives. Outside the ascetic life of John is despair, the proud attitude that denies the need for or the possibility of forgiveness.[8] Sinners have all the advantages in this good news. God is willing to stay with us in our meanness, weakness, and stubborn self-righteousness. We are better off spiritually if we confess our sins rather than keep a list of the sins of others against us.[9]

Further, when John preached and issued a call for baptism, it would neither have shocked first-century Jews nor disturbed the ruling class. Ritual washings in mikva'ot (immersion baths or pools) were commonplace, and people believed that this practice cleansed the body of its chronic profanity and sanctified it for worship of God. This proclamation is undoubtedly what leads Luke to specifically identify John the Baptist's message as the beginning of the "good news" (see Luke 3:18) God intends for the people of Israel. Such baptism was a ritual lustration with roots already established within Jewish practice. Ritual purification with water was an important feature of Israelite religion, particularly regarding the impurity associated with various aspects of sexuality (e.g., intercourse and childbirth; see, e.g., Leviticus 15:18; Numbers 19:13). Ritual practices were widespread in Greco-Roman religion also, especially in cults associated with healing deities. While it is clear, therefore, that the practice of ritual purification with water did not originate with John the Baptist (and common sense would suggest that there was no one “inventor” of the practice), the New Testament first identifies baptism with John’s ministry and preaching, and only later and more significantly associated with Jesus (e.g., Matthew 29:19). In any case, for all its associations with the Greek and Jewish world, the baptism of John was unique. 

Repentance is John’s hopeful word, pointing out our self-deceiving beliefs that we are good, worthy, deserving of our salvation and reminding us that our lives need turning around, to experiencing the washing in the cleansing waters of baptism as we anticipate the coming of the one mightier than John is. One does not experience enlightenment by simply imagining the light. One must also become conscious of the darkness.[10]Every day is judgment day. Through our deeds and words, our silence and speech, we are writing in the Book of Life.[11]

C.S. Lewis describes the unrepentant condition as being in a "hole" where we need the help of a friend (i.e., a savior) to get us out. Into what sort of hole is it that we have gotten ourselves? It is behaving as if we belonged to ourselves. We are not simply imperfect creatures who need improvement; we are rebels who must lay down our arms. "Laying down your arms, surrendering, saying you are sorry, realizing that you have been on the wrong track and getting ready to start life over again from the ground floor -- that is the only way out of a 'hole,'" says Lewis. This process of surrender is what we call repentance (the underlying Greek word means "changing the mind" or "turning around"), and it is what John was calling for in his prophetic preaching. Lewis adds this important note: "... this repentance ... is not something God demands of you before he will take you back and which he could let you off if he chose: it is simply a description of what going back to him is like." We cannot be right with God without repentance; it is like asking God to take us back without actually going back.[12]

The writer Kathleen Norris gives us another way to understand repentance. She tells of working as an artist-in-residence at a parochial school and telling children something about the psalms. The kids are often astonished to discover that the psalmists expressed the more unacceptable emotions like sadness and anger, even anger at God. She says that because the children know what it is like to be small in a world designed for big people. They identify quite readily with the psalmists, and often do quite well when she invites them to write their own psalms.

She tells of one boy who wrote a poem/psalm called "The Monster Who Was Sorry." He began by admitting that he hated it when his father yelled at him, and in the poem, he pictures himself responding by throwing his sister down the stairs, wrecking his room and then wrecking the whole town. The poem ends with, "Then I sit in my messy house and say to myself, 'I shouldn't have done that.'" Norris concludes her account of this boy's poem by referring to the fourth-century monks who guided beginners in the faith and suggesting that those monks would have told this boy "that he was well on the way toward repentance, not such a monster after all, but only human. If the house is messy, they might have said, why not clean it up, why not make it into a place where God might wish to dwell?"[13]

Stephen Vincent Benét once wrote a Christmas play in which the wife of the innkeeper -- truly a bit part, if ever there was one -- has a memorable line. Looking on in wonder at the strange events of that holy night, the innkeeper's wife realizes that something of tremendous import has happened there in her husband's barn. And so she declares:

Rise up! The loves we had were not enough.
Something is loosed to change the shaken world,
And with it we must change!

 

That is the message of John the Baptist. Something has happened, and we must change.

The baptism of John continues to have significance for Christians. The fact that Jesus will submit himself to his baptism should be enough reason. God forgives sin, brings deliverance, and gives the gift of salvation. It means acceptance of daily repentance so that a new self will arise to live with God.[14] Some Christian traditions have learned to have some embarrassment over the stereotype of old-fashioned preachers hammering their people on sin and making people feel guilty. To them, talk of repentance makes them nervous. This feeling has some truth contained in it. A French proverb says that years of repentance are necessary in order to blot out a sin in the eyes of human beings, but one tear of repentance suffices with God. Approached from another perspective, however, repentance is the doorway to the spiritual life and is, in fact, the only way to begin. Repentance is the journey of discipleship and the only way to continue in the path. Anything else is foolishness and self-delusion. Repentance suggests a form of both brute honesty and joyfulness that we will need for the spiritual journey. Of what in my past do we need to repent to allow God to do a new thing in us? Of what do we need forgiveness? Whom do we need to forgive to begin moving toward a different future? We might ask the question differently. From what do we need healing? The cleansing of the Baptist talked was not just a matter of what happened in the past. Such fresh and new people will receive the Holy Spirit that prepares them for ministry and mission. 

Mark makes it clear that John is an historic figure of his time. Mark does this again with his description of his clothing. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist. Zechariah 13:4 suggests prophets had “a hairy mantle,” while II Kings 1:8 describes Elijah the Tishbite as a hairy man with a leather belt around his waist. Malachi 4:5-6 looks forward to the expectation that Elijah would return at the end of the age. Mark also describes his diet: and he ate locusts and wild honey. Bedouins eat such food. John represents a wilderness ascetic movement of this time prior to 30 AD. The apocalyptic fervor of the day fueled his preaching. He may have had some connection with the Jewish set that authored and housed the Dead Sea Scrolls, texts that combined apocalyptic thought and an ascetic way of way of life. He may have some affinity with Essenes. 

The content of the message of John is direct. John looks forward, in the form of a prophecy, He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me. Such a prophecy will require fulfillment if the prophecy is true. Mark is going to say that Jesus is the fulfillment of this prophecy. Of this person, John assures us: I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. John is clear in this disclaimer as to his role in the coming of the rule of God. John is almost demure in these matters. John also notes that the ministry of the one to come is quite different from his ministry. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. The risen Lord uses the phrase in Acts 1:5 and 11:16. The material Matthew and Luke share in common uses a similar phrase but adds that the baptism to come will be with the Holy Spirit and fire. The distinction between John and Christian baptism, of course, is the coming of Jesus. We can see here an understanding of the announcement by John in terms of Christian baptism with the Spirit.[15] The distinction holds in Acts 19:1-7 with Apollos and his baptism. Baptism with the Spirit and water baptism held no distinction in the early church. It knew of one baptism, administered with water and normally linked to the gift of the Spirit. Christian baptism outdates this distinguishing feature between it and John.[16]

The Holy Spirit gains a great deal of attention in some circles. We might say that it seems as if Jerusalem, with its pretend piety, temple taxes, and priestly focus, had covered up the Holy Spirit. They had snuffed out the Holy Spirit. God moved a prophet, John, to escape it all and move to the wilderness. John was socially unacceptable. Yet, he fanned the flame of the Holy Spirit for the people of Israel.

Yet, I have some misgivings. Some people use the Holy Spirit as a code word for a very intense sort of religion. I have nothing against such an experience. Yet, I do not think such an experience is a requirement for faithfulness. William James, in The Varieties of Religious Experience, in referring to a conversion experience, used the analogy of snow on a barn roof. It builds up and builds up, and at some point, one more snowflake makes the difference, and the roof collapses. Thus, we may go through life for many years having a wide variety of experiences that still leave us unconvinced of the Christian faith. Then some event, some encounter, not major by itself, may precipitate a conversion experience. When the right situation occurs, God will do the work. My point is only that too much of the talk about the Holy Spirit can become manipulative of emotion rather than open the door for God to work.[17]

Mark has set the stage with a tantalizing presentation of a new Elijah and a transforming new experience of the baptism of the Holy Spirit to come. The good news, already present in John, will come forth in a dramatic way with the coming of Jesus.

Applied to today, we might consider that the evangelical address of the church is in the situation and function of John the Baptist, which is also a voice crying in the wilderness, preparing the way of the Lord, and baptizing with water. The church is not worthy to unloose the shoes of its Lord. The church has the duty of summoning people to knowledge of Christ and readiness for baptism with the Spirit.[18]

            The theme of Mark 1:9-11 is the story of baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist. This baptism has the primary implication for us today in that when we receive baptism, we are publicly uniting ourselves with and standing with Jesus. In that sense, it becomes the basis for the early church to invite new believers to submit to baptism as well. Baptism is a sign that the favor or grace of God rests upon us. Baptism is a form of anointing us for ministry. Baptism is a sign that we have committed ourselves to the reign of God. As the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist stands at the beginning of his public ministry and had implications throughout that ministry, so our baptism stands at the beginning of our vocation to become increasingly a Christian. God calls Christians into fellowship with Jesus. In that way, the beginning of the ministry of Jesus is not of merely historical interest. It became exemplary, normative, and binding in respect of the form of the beginning of their new life. The beginning of a life of fellowship with Him is at issue. It followed His act of submission to God, of solidarity with humanity, and of service to God.

            We learn that 9In the days of the preaching of John the Baptist Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee (28 AD). We know from other sources that nationalist uprisings occurred when Jesus was two and twelve. However, a non-violent protest by peasants occurred in Caesarea occurred against Pilate. A few months later, Jesus will come to the Baptist for baptism. It will be the first crucial decision he makes publicly. We can understand the ministry of the Baptist as inviting people to leave “Egypt,” that is, Jerusalem and the corrupt ways of institutional life in Israel and come to the wilderness. The Baptist patterned his ministry after Moses, Elijah, and other prophets. Significantly, however, Jesus does not stay with John in the wilderness. He will return to Galilee. John the Baptist baptized Jesus in the Jordan. The question naturally arises as to why Jesus was among those who freely submitted to the baptism of John. This act of Jesus is one of the few incidents in the life of Jesus in which scholars agree that it happened. The question arises as to whether Mark thought Jesus needed the kind of repentance and forgiveness the baptism of John signifies. Some would suggest a plain reading of the text demands an affirmative answer. I think a plain reading suggests a negative answer, given the private revelation to Jesus that occurs after his baptism. Thus, Mark then offers us a theological interpretation of this event in the life of Jesus. For Mark, the relationship between John and Jesus is not important. Rather, the revelation from God, which he now shares, is what is important to him. What occurs after the actual baptism is the primary point of the baptism. Thus, 10 as Jesus came up out of the water, he saw first, the heavens torn apart, a violent verb signaling the beginning of the ministry of Jesus. Mark will use the save verb in 15:38 to describe the tearing of the curtain in the temple. Both events go completely unnoticed by others. Second, Jesus saw the long absent Spirit, which swept over the face of the waters in Genesis 1:2,descending through the torn open heavens like a dove. Such an image is not common in Judaism. An interesting recognition among scholars is that in the Roman imagination, the descent of a bird was a crucial omen for the life of a great leader. Usually, this bird was an eagle, the symbol of Roman legions and military might. Mark uses this trope but subverts it, placing the peaceful dove instead of the aggressive eagle. The reign of God, for which Jesus is the sole leader, comes as a peaceful and sacrificial dove instead of the Roman eagle. The dove descended on him (εἰς αὐτόν, upon or even into him)However, the resting upon persons, as in Isaiah 11:1-3, is a feature of prophetic literature. The point is that the living presence of the Holy Spirit will empower the ministry of Jesus. John had promised that the one to come after him would be different, and we see here the first expression of that difference.  The baptism is the beginning of the eschatological age, which the theological significance of the Father tearing open the heavens and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. Further, 11a voice came from heaven, which we will not hear from again until the transfiguration of Jesus, saying, “You are my Son, (Psalm 2:7 as a royal psalm) the Beloved; with you I am well pleased (Isaiah 42:7 as a suffering servant).” Mark can begin his gospel seriously, having revealed to us the unique nature of Jesus of Nazareth. These verses reflect a private revelation to Jesus, or better, a private confirmation. They reveal the future of Jesus as king and servant, enthronement and suffering. We should view this combination of Messiah and suffering servant as a uniqueness that comes from Jesus of Nazareth. They convey an intimate, unfathomable moment of closeness between the beloved and the ultimate power of the universe. As readers, we will know things about Jesus that the disciples and the contemporaries of Jesus will not know. Mark keeps the secret hidden from the view of others, even if he does not keep secret from us. God chooses an unknown person from a small village in a marginal region. Jesus did not have the right pedigree. Yet, the choice of God occurs apart from recognized human authorities. We have here the impartation of the Spirit and the thought of adoption.[19] Some scholars will remind us that the Roman emperor designated his successor as his son. Often, this son was not the biological son but one of his adopted sons. Jesus is the elect Son of God.[20] As such, Jesus becomes a model of election as serving humanity for the mission God gave him.[21] The baptism proclaims divine sonship and relates it to the future of his public ministry.[22] Such statements have validity only from the standpoint of the Easter event.[23] Yet, what will of this mean? Mark will show the reader throughout the gospel. Mark has set the stage for the one who is more powerful than the Baptist, who will baptize with the Holy Spirit. The one whose identity we as readers of this gospel know will contest with human beings who stand opposed to the good news and the rule of God.



[1] Flannery O'Connor

[2] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 3, 240.

[3] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 3, 240.

[4] Carl Jung

[5] Martin Luther King Jr.

[6] Josephus (Antiquities 18.117 [cf.18.5.2])

[7] (see further, Anchor Bible Dictionary, 1:584).

[8] Kathleen Morris, The Cloister Walk, New York: Riverhead Books, 1996, p. 128, quoting Bededicta Ward.

[9] Barbara Brown Taylor, Gospel Medicine, Boston: Crowley Publications,1995

[10] Carl Jung

[11] Martin Luther King Jr.

[12] Lewis, C.S. "The perfect penitent." Mere Christianity. New York: Macmillian Paperbacks, 1960, 56-61. 

[13] Norris, Kathleen. "Repentance." Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith. New York: Riverhead Books, 1998, 69-70.

[14] Martin Luther, Small Catechism.

[15] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 3, 623.

[16] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 3, 259-60

[17] Dr. Carver McGriff inspired these comments.

[18] Barth Church Dogmatics IV.3 [72.4] 854.

[19] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 266.

[20] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 306.

[21] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 457.

[22] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 309.

[23] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 247, 365.

Acts 19:1-7


Acts 19:1-7 (NRSV) While Apollos was in Corinth, Paul passed through the interior regions and came to Ephesus, where he found some disciples. 2 He said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” They replied, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” 3 Then he said, “Into what then were you baptized?” They answered, “Into John’s baptism.” 4 Paul said, “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus.” 5 On hearing this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. 6 When Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied— 7 altogether there were about twelve of them.



The theme of Acts 19:1-7 is Paul meeting the disciples of John at Ephesus. It will raise the question of baptism, connecting it with the personal and communal experience of the Holy Spirit. Baptism has become a ritual in the church of today. Although the ritual may say it has a connection with the Spirit, many congregations are unaware of the connection.  If they were aware, they are unsure of what it means in their personal or corporate life. My hope is that we can gain some insight into both baptism and the work of the Holy Spirit within the experience of the church today.

In one sense, baptism acknowledges the work of the Holy Spirit that is already there.  At its best, as Martin Luther often noted, baptism is a lifelong process of conversion and nurture that begins at the font and does not end until death. One of the issues raised in this passage is a disconnection between baptism and experience. John Wesley had a sermon on the new birth based on this passage. He thinks of baptism as a sign of an experience of new birth and regeneration. This means they are not the same thing. He even makes the point that the new birth and baptism do not constantly go together. One can receive baptism with water and yet not experience the new birth through the Spirit. This simply means that one may receive the outward sign or ritual but not experience the inward grace.[1] Baptism is not magic in the sense that if you do it, it requires God or the human recipient to act in certain ways. 

1While Apollos (mentioned in 18:24-28) was in Corinth, Paul passed through the interior regions (Turkey today) and came to Ephesus. Luke carefully avoids an encounter between Apollos and Paul. Paul found some disciples in Ephesus. It seems their theological training was not sufficient.  He said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” What led Paul to ask this question? I suspect there was something missing from this little community of faith. How would we answer Paul if he could ask us that question? They replied, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” Then he said, “Into what then were you baptized?” They answered, “Into John’s baptism.” They did not receive baptism in the name of John, of course. We learned in 18:25b that Apollos knew only the baptism of John. He needed Priscilla and Aquila to explain the way of God to him more accurately. Several disciples of Jesus experienced only the baptism of John, but they were also with Jesus, in the Spirit was present. My point is that had they approached all of this ritualistically, even the disciples would have needed re-baptism. They did not need it because through their contact with Jesus they also experienced the work of the Spirit in their lives. The appearance of the risen Lord and Pentecost sealed the work of the Spirit in them. Thus, the early church is still sorting out the meaning of baptism. Paul said, “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus.” Paul identifies the meaning of the baptism they have received. The parallel connection between 18:24-28 and 19:1-7 is that both cases involve those who knew only the baptism of John. In both cases, the baptism of John needed to move to the next level, either with further instruction or with the reception of the Holy Spirit. It also suggests that forms of Christianity needed the sanction of Jerusalem and Paul. On hearing this, Paul baptized them in the name of the Lord Jesus. We have the only account of re-baptism in the Bible. Baptism in the name of Jesus was the early formula for baptism out of which the Trinitarian form would later arise. Next, Luke informs us that 6Paul laid his hands on them. Whether one person lays hands on many or many people lay hands on the few, the laying on of hands embodies the kind of unity that baptism intends to foster among the communion of saints. This is more than symbolic. It is a profound reminder that baptism brings us into contact with the risen Christ, contact with the power of the Holy Spirit, contact with humankind in and beyond the community of faith. Then, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied. In 2:4, tongues and prophecy are part of the manifestation of the Spirit as well. Paul has clarified the reason the baptism of John is insufficient. It did not include reception of the Holy Spirit. The gift of the Spirit distinguished Christian baptism from other forms, especially that of John.[2]  Several of the disciples would have experienced the baptism of John as well, as far as we know, that is all they received. The uniqueness among these disciples of John is the absence of the presence of the Holy Spirit, the test of genuine discipleship. The proof that baptism of the Spirit has happened is the speaking in tongues and prophecy. Luke portrays the conversion of Paul as one of Ananias laying his hands on Paul, baptism, reception of the Holy Spirit, and Paul immediately preaching Jesus as the Son of God (Acts 9:17-20). If one can make arguments that the development of doctrine is already underway by the time Luke writes Acts, then this passage indicates that doctrinal formulations about baptism are intersecting with, if not emerging from, accounts of first-century Christians who are actually experiencing baptism. Baptism inaugurates a new reality in the Holy Spirit for all who believe and act in the name of Jesus. The New Testament connects baptism and the new reality in the Holy Spirit. The baptism of Jesus includes the view that the Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus. Baptism is genuine, not based upon the name used, but on the power it evokes. We then learn that 7altogether there were about twelve of them. For Luke, the dynamics of authentic discipleship surface on numerous occasions where he links the bolstering presence of the Holy Spirit with professing faith or taking action in the name of Jesus.

I am not sure what was missing in these disciples. In this case, the evidence was tongues and prophecy, similar to Acts 2. Paul did not have the evidence of tongues in Acts 9. If we broaden our perspective, we can think of many evidence of the work of the Spirit in individual and corporate life. We might go to the discussion of Paul concerning the gifts of the Spirit and the fruit of the Spirit. Rather than focus upon the spectacular, I want to focus on the quiet ways the Spirit may be at work in the life of persons and communities. The reason is that in our time, people within the Christian community can often focus on the miraculous as evidence of the presence of the Spirit. Such a view assumes a far too narrow understanding of the miraculous. It focuses on the moment. I want to focus on what happens after the moment, which is the rest of our lives. Some of us, if we took the time to reflect, would be surprised at the work the Spirit has accomplished in us over the years. 

I am going to suggest that the work of the Spirit in individual and corporate ways may show itself in the way people experience the inevitable brokenness of life. A friend hurts us deeply, and we retreat inside ourselves. We lose a job or suffer a pay cut, and pretend as if everything is okay. A spouse abuses us, but we never speak up. We sense that we have a drinking problem, but feel too embarrassed to ask for help. A marriage begins with intimacy and anticipation, and ends with alienation and anger. Life breaks us, in a variety of painful ways. Unfortunately, we often deny it. We would rather disguise the places life has broken us. In fact, everyone has gaps and breaks in their lives. Some destructive experience eventually shatters everyone. As the English writer G.K. Chesterton said, "We are all in the same boat, in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty." Many authors have noted the wonderful quote from the end of Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms: “The world breaks everyone, then some become strong at the broken places.” "Forget your perfect offering," says the poet and songwriter Leonard Cohen. "There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."

Several decades ago, just 10 days after his son was killed in a car accident, the Reverend William Sloane Coffin delivered a sermon to his congregation at Riverside Church in New York City. He said, "As almost all of you know, a week ago last Monday night, driving in a terrible storm ... my 24-year-old son Alexander, who enjoyed beating his old man at every game and in every race, beat his father to the grave." "My own broken heart is mending," said Coffin, "and largely thanks to so many of you, my dear parishioners; for if in the last week I have relearned one lesson, it is that love not only begets love, it transmits strength." William Sloane Coffin discovered for himself that when a terrible tragedy broke him, then the Christian community stepped in to fill him with love and strength. And he no doubt became a better pastor after experiencing that golden repair.

Most of us realize that the strongest and most beautiful people around us are those who have breaks filled that have become strong. The parents of an autistic child give valuable guidance to others in the same situation. The AA sponsor who patiently helps a fellow alcoholic to remain sober. The survivor of abuse provides a lifeline to those who suffer abuse. The wife of an Alzheimer's patient offers support to families dealing with various types of dementia.

             The Spirit is busy in us every day. Some days the work of the Spirit in me is especially vivid and meaningful, some days it is not. Some days I respond in faith to the leadings of the Spirit, some days I do not respond. My response or lack of it does not deny its presence in my life. I need God to claim me repeatedly. It is all the work of the Spirit. The Spirit blows where it will, and daily it blows through our lives, refreshing us, disrupting us, soothing us, prodding us, and pouring out God's love upon us until the Spirit makes us over into the likeness of the Son.


[1] John Wesley, "The New Birth."

[2] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 301, Volume 3, 259-60, 279, 340-1, 367.

Thursday, January 4, 2018

Genesis 1:1-5


Genesis 1:1-5 (NRSV)

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, 2 the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. 3 Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. 4 And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

Genesis 1:1-5 opens the canonical text of the Bible with an emphasis upon God as creator. 

Genesis 1:1-2:4a is the first of two accounts of creation, even though it reflects an historically later account, deriving as it does from the priestly account, likely written during the exile. The biblical account opens by introducing the reader to a God who creates for good. God builds a beautiful home in which humanity, as representatives of God on earth, may care for that which God has provided. It does not present a theory. It presents a creed, a belief. In the canon, it takes its place as situating the story of the Patriarchs within the larger theme of the love and concern of God for humanity. One should read the Babylonian creation epic for some background as to what this author is arguing against. Whereas each of the orders of creation in the Babylonian story — the watery deep, the heavens, the sea, the dry land, the heavenly bodies — are gods and not mere inanimate objects, in Genesis 1 they are inert creations of the one God. The priestly account demythologizes Babylonian cosmology. Gone are the many gods and their wars that created the earth. In their places are the logical and ordered processes of a transcendent God creating a universe into which God will introduce a species who are nothing less than God’s own children. The God who established a covenant with the family of Abraham and with Moses is the creator of the world. The myths of Ras Shamra may form background, but scholars are beginning to interpret that relationship differently. 

The structure of Genesis 1 is not random. Unlike the Enuma Elish, the Babylonian account of creation, in which multiple gods war for control of a chaotic universe, Genesis 1 has only one God, namely 'Elohim, the God of Israel. There is no cosmic sea goddess, Tiamat, who must be vanquished to create the world. There is only God's spirit, hovering like a restless wind made by beating wings over the tehom, a word from the same root as Tiamat's name; only in Genesis, the tehom is merely a deep abyss of swirling water.

Babylonians thought of all the natural formations that God creates in Genesis 1 as actual gods! If, as many scholars believe, the writing of the priestly account of creation was during the Babylonian captivity of the Jews, this account is a remarkable response to the prevailing view. For the Babylonians, the god Anu was also the sky. The goddess Ki was the earth. Shamash was the sun. Sin was the moon. All of nature was composed of various gods humans were to worship, according to the Babylonians. By presenting them with an alternative view of the creation of the universe, close enough to their own to be recognizable to them, the Israelites produced a brilliant piece of theological subversion. It is as if the whole chapter preaches one message: "Yes, the universe was created, but by the One God, our God, the only true and living God. All these other things you worship are just inanimate objects in nature, which our God created."

In addition, the one true God creates in a quite different way than does Marduk in the Enuma Elish. Marduk creates the earth by splitting the rebel Tiamat's body into two halves like the halves of a clamshell. The upper half forms the bubble above the sky and the lower half the bubble under the earth, beyond which God filled the universe with water. This is a very bloody, "hands-on" process. According to the author of our text, however, the One God creates with a word. God speaks and there is light. God need not manipulate coarse matter physically. God only says, "Let there be …" and there is!

God used a set of words to bring order out of chaos and light out of darkness. Such words are not simply describing something. They are “performative utterances,” in the words of J. L. Austin, creating the reality they are describing. Words have always been critical to the creative work of God. In Genesis, this work continued when “God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night” (Genesis 1:5). God created day and night when God called these periods day and night. Then God went on to use words to create Earth and seas, vegetation, birds, cattle, and finally humankind. At the end of this creative work, “God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good” (v. 31). God used divine words to create a good world for us to enjoy.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth with words alone, and our speech continues to create the world that we live in. As Christians, our challenge is to take words seriously as we follow Jesus, the One who is the Word of God in human form (John 1:14). Finally, we need words that reflect the truth of Jesus, the Word of God, who became flesh and dwelled among us. “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you,” said Jesus; “for this is the law and the prophets” (Matthew 7:12). “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31). “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36). “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another” (John 13:34).

Once an idea takes root in our minds, we cannot undo them. There is no unlearning. There is only relearning. Abraham Joshua Heschel once said that “words create worlds.” They are not mere metaphors and images on a page. They are the archive of ideas, the power to transform the world by transforming the people who call this world home. Words are an event inviting others to an encounter, the mediation of experiential ideology. What kind of world are your words creating?[1] The language we use in talking about ourselves has a powerful influence on how we behave. The quality of the inner dialogue we have with ourselves is a key to motivation.

Genesis 1 calls its readers to ponder the origins of the universe and our role within it. We receive a glimpse into the world as God would have had it — filled with seeming opposites that are really companions, whose coexistence makes the universe possible: light and darkness, sea and dry land, plants and animals, male and female, God and humanity. Unlike the unrelenting chaos and struggle described in writings about the Babylonian or Canaanite pantheons, God's universe works in harmony with each element serving its appointed function. Unlike the Babylonians or the Canaanites, who lived in constant unease concerning the capriciousness of their gods (whose care for human beings was less than one might desire), the Israelites placed their faith in a God of justice who practiced mercy, and who created humanity as a parent creates a beloved child, regardless of the chaos that child could be expected to reintroduce into the ordered universe.

The text is not myth or saga, but Priestly doctrine, sacred knowledge preserved and handed down by many generations of priests.  The emphasis is that one can declare faith objectively.  The atmosphere is one of sober theological reflection rather than awe or reverence.  Israel made a break with the view of creation as a conflict between god and chaos.  There is no hint of that here.  

Many of us are accustomed to viewing this text through the lens of the wars between creationists and evolutionists.  Some would want to harmonize the account with science.  In the 20th century, science and religion have spent much of the time throwing rocks at one another.  Now, there can be common cause.  Science and religion both have an interest in preserving the planet.[2]  The development of the text deals with first things, salvation, last things, and all things. [3]

God's primary work is to form and fill.  There was a "formless void," which six days of God creating transformed. God gives the form in the first three days, as God distinguishes light and darkness, up and down, land and sea.  Then, in the last two days, there is a frenzy of activity to fill the world.  The story shows how God created, not with a magical "poof," but in a series of interdependent steps.  As created in the image of God, we stand in a special relationship with rest of creation, yet it is still a relationship.  Every detail is so precise that even a child can understand it.

Genesis 1 depicts the creation of the world as a sequence of forms. As the days of creation follow each other, we first have light and darkness, then water and the firmament, then the earth, vegetation, and stars, then fishes and birds, finally land animals, and last of all humans. Modern science might change the order. However, it remains astonishing that much agreement exists between science and this account.[4] More surprising than differences, of which we will note below, is the measure of material agreement in light at the beginning, humans at the end, light prior to the stars, plants springing forth from the earth, the function of vegetation as a presupposition of animal life, and the close relation between human and land animals on the sixth day, as distinct from fishes and birds on the fifth day. We can find agreement in the basic sequence in the development of creaturely forms. The sequence may be different at some points form that of modern science, but science today has also arrived at this own idea of a sequence in its understanding of the world. E. Schlink says that the chief difference between the sequence in the modern view and that of Genesis 1 is that in Genesis 1 the individual working of the creatures is according to concrete orders that are already set, whereas modern research has increasingly come to think that the orders proceed from the working. Genesis 1 is already acquainted with the idea of creaturely agencies’ sharing in the work of creation. Thus, the earth brings forth both vegetation and land animals. In this account, however, the thought of an ongoing development in the course of which different forms of creaturely reality arise out of those that precede is an alien one. The remoteness of the text from the idea of an evolution of the forms of creaturely reality stems from Genesis 1 establishing an order for all time so that each of the works of creation would have lasting duration. Each creature receives from its outset the lasting forms of its existence. As he sees it, to do justice to the full biblical witness, the teaching on creation has the task of uniting the interest of this account in the constancy of the order that God has established with the concept of ongoing creative activity. The idea of unbreakable natural laws does enough justice to the concern of Genesis 1. The theory of evolution has given theology an opportunity to see the ongoing creative activity of God not merely in the preservation of a fixed order, but in the constant bringing forth of things that are new.[5] Such a possibility arises from reflection on the notion in II Isaiah of the creative acts of God in history bringing forth new things, opening the door for the ongoing creative activity of God in nature as well. The notion of emergent evolution becomes an interesting possibility for Christian theology.[6]

            Genesis 1:1-2 tells us that 1in the beginning (bereshith) when God (Elohim) created (bara) the heavens and the earth, which we need to understand as introducing the activity that is the subject of the clause. The emphasis is on the activity rather than its temporality. Something like “In the beginning of God creating the heavens and the earth” is the intent. Given the nature of this activity, it does occur at the beginning of time. The theological principle is that the only creative principle resides in God. It affirms only one creative, caring God throughout the cosmos. The divinely ordered world reflects the covenant of grace between God and humanity. The statement affirms that which transcends humanity in unknown heights while affirming the reality of the human realm and the interconnection between them.  Yet, 2the earth was a formless void (tohu wabohu) and darkness covered the face of the deep, describing the pre-creation condition. One might translate it as "waste and schmaste" or "formlessness and normlessness."[7] Earth is a watery mess, even while a wind(spirit, breath) from God swept (soared, swooped) over the face of the waters. The Spirit is life-giving, involved directly in creation. God preserves creation from being ungodly or anti-godly. God creates harmony and peace, as creation becomes the theater and instrument of the acts of God, as well as an object of divine joy in which God invites creation to participate. 

            The Bible begins with God. It does not even try to prove, give evidence, or demonstrate its belief in God. God is eternal, while everything we know is temporal, having a beginning and end. The Bible begins with the creative activity of God. God is the source and origin of the material world. God graciously conferred existence on individuals.  The beauty of the doctrine of creation is that of a reality distinct from God, one that is not an echo of God, and a reality that God affirms and with whom God desires fellowship. God preserves creation, continues to care for it out of love and goodness toward what God has created. God will bring creation to what Paul declares in I Corinthians 15:28, in which God will be all in all. This creative activity of God occurs within time, as in the symbolic reference to seven days. God takes time seriously. Creation is a testimony to the patience of God, who nourishes growth through time. The result of this creativity activity is unambiguously “good.” God takes delight in what God has created.           It often puzzled me that after the verse, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,” the next phrase is, and "the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep" (1:2). For some Bible scholars, this means something evil or negative in opposition to God. However, we now know it as “chaos,” formless matter. The image I have in mind is the lump of clay I have before I start fashioning it into something I want to make. In the same way, the first part of creation is to have chaos, a formless mass, a kind of raw material that God uses for creative activity, a state of affairs that is not yet in harmony with the divine purposes in creation. Suddenly a "wind from God" sweeps over the face of the waters, a divine wind or spirit that begins to work in a creative way with the raw material of "the deep." God does not reject or say no to this chaotic material -- God simply uses it as part of the ordering of Creation. God works with it, to mold and shape it into what God intends.[8]

Well, chaos has been quite the rage for several years. One bestseller was by James Gleick, Chaos: Making a New Science. Another was by an IU professor, Douglas Hofstadter, Godel, Escher, and Bach. Paul Davies is a scientist who has written on this matter in The Mind of God. Several books from John Polkinghorn and the Templeton institute have sought to combine some of this new way of looking at science and combining it with the biblical story of creation. Chaos theory is all the rage as people try to apply it toys, washing machines, Agent of Chaos, Applied Chaos, Angel of Chaos, Beyond Chaos, Bordering on Chaos, and even a bestselling business book, Thriving on Chaos. If you want insight into chaos, you can find it many places. Biologists apply it to construct a model of biological systems. People have used advanced math to model everything from population growth, to arrhythmic heart palpitations, from the spread of epidemics to the sounds of dripping faucets. String theory seeks to resolve in creative tension the apparent conflicts between quantum physics and Einstein's theories.[9] All of this is an effort to develop a Theory of Everything. Well, I find it dangerous to simplify a complex theory. However, chaos theory suggests that very small occurrences can produce unpredictable and sometimes drastic results by triggering a series of increasingly significant events. Complex and unpredictable results can and will occur to the entire system with relatively small actions. 

Pam Walatka points out that the word “chaos” comes from the Greek word for formless matter. It does not have a shape that lasts through time. It is not predictable. Chaos is all the random stuff without pattern that exists in the universe. She points out that heat is a form of chaos. Any physics book will define heat as the random movement of atoms. The higher the temperature, the greater is the randomness of the movement of the atoms. Yet, heat is also essential to living things. All living things have heat. Life cannot exist without the random movement of atoms. If heat is chaos, and life cannot exist without heat, then life cannot exist without some degree of chaos. A dead person is a cold stiff. A live person is warm and flexible. She points out that you know randomness occurs in your life. It also occurs in your body at the atomic level. Her conclusion is simple.  Therefore, learn to appreciate the chaos in your life, because chaos is keeping you alive.[10] Chaos theory reminds us that even when it appears we are living in chaos, there are patterns of order that are appearing if only we are patient even to discern them.

            Genesis 1:3-5 describe the first day of creation, first of the sequence of forms we find in this depiction of creation. The creation of day and night - through the activity of creating and separating light from primordial darkness - allows for the basic reckoning of time. 3God spoke light into existence. This simple statement suggests creation by a free, divine decision declaration. When creation separates itself from its origin, it does so to its own hurt, for it falls into falsehood and error. 4God saw that the light was good. The apparently senseless suffering of creatures and the entrance of evil in creation make it difficult to postulate a Creator who is both omnipotent and good. A belief in creation must assume that the work of creation is good and according to the will of God. The creation of light is in accord with the divine purpose. Suffering and evil will always cast doubt on the goodness of creation.[11] The primary doubt regards the goodness of the work of creation. Thus, each individual act of creation is in accord with the divine purpose and receives divine approval as “good,” with humans receiving special importance with the pronouncement of “very good” and as the conclusion of the whole work of creation in 2:2. The goodness of creation depends on humans and their being in accord with the divine purpose in creation. Of course, the opening chapters of Genesis show that the historical form and experience of humanity do not show the goodness that the creator ascribes to them.[12] 5God also separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. There was evening and there was morning, the first day. Time can commence. The works of God take place during the day and in the light. Light depends upon God for its existence and continuing presence. Light has no power generating from within itself. It derives its dignity and power from God. God grants time for that which God has made. Existing in time, it belongs at the side of God, expressing the affirmation of God and the possibility of God choosing it. God turned toward creation in gracious good pleasure. To have time is to allow finite things to exist in the presence of God. Created things live under the divine Yes, and thus receive divine preservation and shelter. 

          Certain hymns capture some of the spirit of these few verses. “Morning has broken like the first morning,” wrote Eleanor Farjeon in 1931.  Maltbie D. Babcock (1901) wrote, “This is my Father’s world.” For him, “all nature sings, and round me rights, the music of the spheres.” The birds “declare their maker’s praise. Even if “the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.” Therefore, since “this is my Father’s world,” “I rest in the thought,” the Lord “speaks to me everywhere,” and “the Lord is king, let the earth be glad.”



[1] —Jim Keat, “Words Create Worlds,” Thirty Seconds or Less, February 28, 2014, http://thirtysecondsorless.net/words.

[2][Note: Some use the term "fragile planet Earth."  I cannot use this!  The planet has been here for about four billion years.  My guess is that it will be here another four billion years.  What is fragile is the human race.]  

[3] H. Paul Santmire in Interpretation, 45:366-379, 1991

[4] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 2, 116.

[5] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 2, 118-9.

[6] Pannenberg Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 122-3.

[7] (J.W. Rosenberg, HarperCollins Study Bible)

[8] (Terence E. Fretheim, "The Book of Genesis," The New Interpreter's Bible [Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994], 356).

[9] (www.students.uiuc.edu/~ag-ho/chaos/chaos.html, June 22, 1999). 

[10]Pam Walatka, "Chaos in Everyday Life," 1996, www.wildhorses.com, June 22, 1999.

[11] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 162-3.

[12] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 2, 162-3.