Without a doubt, John 3:16 is the most quoted and well-known verse in the Bible. It’s been repeated by Christians, posted on billboards, printed on banners over highways, displayed at sporting events, and recited at evangelistic crusades. Yet, despite its fame, this verse deserves a second look.
Believing in a judgmental God can be dangerous. Assuming that God demands an ethic of retribution not only gives a penal flavor to our theology but also encourages zealous violent retribution by cultivating its justification.
Tucked away in an obscure collection of texts in 2 Samuel 21 is a story occasionally cited to suggest that God’s avenging anger needs appeasement. Nestled within this depiction of atonement is the ancient notion of bloodguilt, while a lesser known story is easily overlooked, lacking the attention it deserves. It tells of a woman burdened with grief and searing pain because her two sons have been torn from her. Rizpah is her name. The story has not gone unnoticed, however, by many a brave mother gripped by despair and grief at the death of a child. Such women, left powerless and bereft, receive little mercy.
I have gained a few Jewish friends over the years, and most do not normally encourage proselytizing Christians. However, one older gentlemen I’ve had the privilege of meeting invited me to visit his newly renovated synagogue. He gave me some shofar-blowing lessons, and we spoke about the Bible and the Sabbath. Before I left that day, he asked me to consider converting to Judaism and joining his synagogue.
For centuries, Protestants have championed Martin Luther’s legacy of justification by grace through faith, not works. Habakkuk is the prophetic context from which Paul speaks in Romans of the right-making initiative that comes from God, yet it is often proclaimed from weekly pulpits in unbalanced ways that fail to connect to God’s work of justifying and righting all creation.
Powerful truths are sometimes found in small things, yet we often fail to notice and appreciate them because they are so small. God gave His people a small symbol to help them understand profound truths about Him. From the divinely revealed details of the altar of incense within the Old Testament tabernacle we learn that powerful factors for good can seem small.
Too often, people interpret the Apocalypse of John through a sensational or speculative lens. One problem with obsessing over speculative predictions is that it eliminates the need for commitment in the present. We in the West tend to be oblivious to the suffering occurring around us, often placing prophetic fulfillment in the future, so we can relate. A future application of Revelation 13 can be argued, but I choose to read the issues presented by John on the island of Patmos as timeless values rather than just predictive events.
During these troublous times, we should take a long hard look at what it means to engage in justice. Christians like to emphasize that Jesus stated startling truths that shook His day. They champion their corner of truth without making clear what Jesus really stands for.
The last few weeks have been worrisome. Following the senseless death of George Floyd and the unrest and havoc it has prompted, I think it has become imperative that we talk about justice.
Even when young, I was an avid student of the Bible. The fiery descriptions of God’s judgment activated my imagination. Early on, I embarked on a pilgrimage to reread every verse of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation while contemplating just one question: What is the meaning of the fiery language in Scripture?
Theological InTents 