6th Sunday of Easter, 2022 - Pruning

 The central theme in Jesus’s metaphor of the vine and the branches is fruit – fruit, more fruit, much fruit, fruit that will last.

The secret to producing fruit is abiding — staying connected to the vine (Jesus) so that the life of the vine flows in us and through us. “Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:4-5).

The Father wants us to bear fruit. Fruitlessness is not tolerated. “He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit” (John 15:2a). The Father works in our lives so that we will bear fruit. “Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit” (John 15:2b). The Father, through the Spirit, deals with those things in our lives that keep us from bearing fruit. He prunes us. He prunes us so that we can bear more fruit.

Pruning is an essential part of bearing fruit. It involves cutting away that which saps the life of the vine. It involves cutting away that which blocks the flow of the life of the vine. The Spirit addresses those things in our lives that hinder our connection with Christ. The Spirit confronts those things in our lives that limit the flow of Christ’s life in us and through us. The Spirit challenges those things in our lives that keep us from loving as Jesus loved.

Those things that limit our fruitfulness are old patterns and habits, old ways of thinking, old attitudes, unaddressed issues, unresolved hurts and harbored anger, bitterness and resentment, the unwillingness to forgive. They are places where we are stuck, where we have not grown emotionally-relationally-spiritually. They are issues we have ignored and pushed out of our awareness in our shadow.  They are the issues not addressed in most institutional church life.

The Father prunes these things from our lives out of love. The pruning is not malicious or punitive. The Spirit’s pruning work is so we can grow emotionally-relationally-spiritually. It is so the life of Christ can flow freely and fully in us and through us. It is so the Father can give us whatever we ask in Jesus’s name (John 15:7, 16). It is so our joy might be full (John 15:11). It is so we can bear fruit, more fruit, much fruit, fruit that will last. It is so we can experience the Father’s life and love flowing in us and through us in the Indwelling Christ. It is so we can love one another (John 15:12). It is so we can love as Jesus loved.

This thinking makes me wonder: what does the Spirit want to prune out of my life today?

5th Sunday of Easter, 2022 - I Have Chosen You Out of the World

It is something most church members do not understand. Most probably don’t even think about it because they assume a reality that is the opposite of what Jesus taught.

In his teachings about abiding in him, Jesus spoke of the world’s attitude toward his disciples, an attitude rooted in his followers relationship to the world (John 15:18-19).

Jesus used the word hate to describe the attitude of the world toward those who follow him. The world hated him. Consequently, the world — society, culture, the social world, even family — would hate them/us. “If the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you” (John 15:18). The word hate carries the idea of opposing, resisting, challenging, rejecting. In Jesus’s experience, the hate translated into crucifying him on a cross.

The reason for the world’s attitude toward Jesus’s disciples is their relationship to the world. We who follow Jesus no longer belong to the world. Jesus chose us and called us out of the world. Jesus called us to be a part of the kingdom. “If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world — therefore the world hates you” (John 15:19).

Following Jesus means we learn and live the grace-based ways of God that Jesus called the kingdom of God. These ways are a threat to the ways of the world. The ways of the kingdom – the way we are to live as the followers of Jesus – undermines the ways of the world. Living out of grace and love (John 15:12, 17), we view and value, accept and embrace every person as a beloved child of God. The world functions out of us-them thinking. It views anyone who is different through the lens of anxiety, viewing them as “other.” Us-them thinking and functioning creates a hierarchy in relationships. Those like us who live up to our expectations and standards are better than those who fail to measure up. The other’s failure to measure up makes us better than them — superior, a step up. God’s ways of grace undermine this merit-based way of thinking and relating. It is a threat to the manufactured identity we created using what the world says is important. This constructed self is based upon what the world said we needed to believe and do if we wanted to be accepted and included. Grace and forgiveness undermine merit-based thinking and relating. Viewing and valuing, accepting and embracing every person as a beloved child of God undermines us-them thinking and relating. It destroys the foundation upon which merit-based hierarchy is built. 

Most church members in the US do not see this teaching of Jesus — “the world hates you.” Their religious faith has been deeply tied to their culture. Their culture has taught their religious faith. Unfortunately, the culture has taught its way of thinking and relating, not the ways of God that Jesus taught. Thus, most church members do not recognize that they are enmeshed in the world even though Jesus called them out of the world. They assume what they believe and what their culture taught them are God’s ways. They cannot distinguish culture from God, a culture-shaped religion from the kingdom.

“If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world — therefore the world hates you” (John 15:19).

It seems to me this truth calls for some self-reflection and self-examination. It makes me ask, “What if the world doesn't hate us?”

4th Sunday of Easter, 2022 - Fruit That Will Last

 When we abide in Christ, the life of Christ flowing in us and through us produces fruit — fruit (John 15:2), more fruit (John 15:2), much fruit (John 15:5), fruit that will last (John 15:16).

Abiding in Christ is the secret to bearing fruit. “Just as a branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing (John 15:4-5).

Jesus was clear. Fruit in our lives comes from abiding, allowing the life of the vine (Christ) flow in us and through us. He was also clear about the flip side of that thought. “Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5b). We cannot, in our own strength or through self-effort or through willful resolve, produce fruit, more fruit, much fruit, fruit that will last. Fruit in the spiritual realm — spiritual fruit — requires a spiritual life enriched by intimate relationship with the Risen Christ and the Father.

What does that mean — spiritual fruit? A spiritual life enriched by an intimate relationship with the Risen Christ and the Father?

Jesus’s teaching in John 15 identifies what he meant by fruit.

One place that abiding produces fruit is in our relationship with God the Father, particularly in our experience of prayer. Abiding enriches our experience of prayer. Abiding produces an intimacy with God captured by the word Father. We know and trust God as Abba — the Aramaic name a small child used with their father. It corresponds to our English word daddy. Abiding creates a freedom in our relationship with God. A deep confidence in and unquestioning trust in God’s love frees us from fear and hesitancy (1 John 4:18). We turn to God with boldness (Hebrews 4:16) to receive the grace we need for whatever we are facing.

In addition to this deep intimacy and freedom, Jesus spoke of asking and receiving in prayer. “If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you” (John 15:7). “I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name (John 15:16). Jesus did not say God would give us whatever we wanted and asked for — although his words can be read that way and are frequently interpreted that way (name it and claim it, prosperity gospel teaching). I hear him saying our asking arises out of our abiding and thus is shaped by our abiding. Our asking is shaped by his words — his teachings — which abide in us and guide us. Our asking grows out of our desire to bear fruit that will last and fruit that will point to the beauty of God’s love. The Father will give us whatever we need to bear fruit, to love as Jesus loved, to love who Jesus loved. We need only to ask. Our abiding in Christ guides how we pray and for what we pray. It releases the life-giving, transformative power of God, accessed through prayer, in our lives.

As we abide in Christ, our lives are transformed — another expression of the spiritual fruit that is produced as his life flows in us and through us. “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love” (John 15:10). Keeping Jesus’s commandments comes out of abiding in his love. Abiding is what makes it possible to keep his commandments, particularly the commandment to love one another (John 15:12, 17). To keep his commandments is to live the ways of God he taught. As we abide in Christ, we ask the Father to empower us to do what we cannot do in our own strength, i.e., keep his commandments, love. As the Father gives us what we ask, our lives are transformed. Our lives become patterned after and reflect the life of Christ.

Abiding produces the joy of Christ in our lives (John 15:11) — yet another expression of the fruit. “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:11). The joy Jesus experienced grew out of his intimate relationship with God as Abba. It was tied to loving as God loves. As we abide in Christ, we experience that same joy — the joy of intimate relationship with God as Abba, the joy of loving others as Jesus loved. We experience a joy this world cannot duplicate or give.

Ultimately, the fruit that comes from abiding in Christ is the ability to love. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:12-13). “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another” (John 15:17). As we abide in Christ, his teachings shape how we think and live. Our lives are transformed so that we love as Jesus loved. Abiding leads us to love as Jesus loved … to love one another with the self-giving, self-sacrificing love of God.

Abiding is the secret to bearing fruit, more fruit, much fruit, fruit that will last — an intimate relationship with God as Abba, asking in prayer shaped by our abiding, living the ways of God that Jesus taught so our lives are transformed, the joy of Christ, loving as Jesus loved.

Sadly, we too often make excuses for the lack of this kind of fruit in our lives. We substitute beliefs about God for intimate relationship with God as Abba. We substitute prayer lists for prayer that grows out of our intimate relationship with God and our desire to learn and live God’s ways. We substitute involvement in the activities of an institutional church for a life shaped by and transformed by the ways of God Jesus taught. We settle for social relationships in the institutional church in place of the joy Jesus promised. We substitute moral living, church involvement, and charity work for loving as Jesus loved. We settle for the mediocrity of doing the best I can in place of abiding in Christ.

Abiding in Christ is the key to bearing fruit, more fruit, much fruit, fruit that will last.

3rd Sunday of Easter, 2022 - The "How To" of Abiding

Abiding in Christ — staying connected to the Risen Christ — being attentive to the Spirit’s movement and work in our lives — living intimately in relationship with God as a beloved child: such is the heart of the spiritual life of a follower of Jesus.

How do we do abide in Christ? What does it mean to be led by the Spirit (Romans 8:14) and to live by the Spirit (Romans 8:1-17; Galatians 5:16-26)? What does it look like to live in intimate relationship with God as a beloved child?

Our inclination is to answer these questions out of our default merit-based thinking. We talk about the things we do — attending worship, being involved in church activities and Bible study, doing things to help others. These kinds of things are just another expression of our being productive and staying busy mentality. They are about doing, not necessarily about abiding. They are things we substitute for abiding because we don’t understand how to abide.

Abiding is more than doing. It is more than practicing certain behaviors. Certainly, abiding produces doing. It changes our behavior. The change of behavior is the fruit that abiding produces. Abiding, however, takes place in a different dimension of our lives, on a deeper level than behavior. Abiding takes place in the realm of the heart. It has to do with the thinking that shapes our lives, the attitudes that grow out of that thinking, and the resulting spirit with which we live.

Abiding is rooted in grace. Jesus said our abiding in him is a mutual abiding. “Abide in me as I abide in you” (John 15:4). Through the indwelling Spirit, Jesus and the Father live in us. “We will come to them and make our home with them” (John 14:33). This mutual indwelling is a gift of grace. It is what God, living out of divine love, does. Living out of self-giving love, God embraces us as beloved children and lives in us. We are able to abide in Christ because Christ first abides in us. Grace, expressed in mutual abiding, is what makes abiding possible.

We cannot abide in Christ as long as we live out of merit-based thinking. Functioning out of merit-based thinking, we live with an acute awareness of how we fail to measure up. We are hesitant to approach God because of this sense of inadequacy, accompanied by the guilt and shame it spawns. We look for something to do to compensate for our failure, making our relationship with God based upon what we do, i.e., merit. A relationship based on merit is always conditional. It is always tentative and uncertain. It is a barrier to abiding.

Abiding is resting in God’s grace. It is trusting God’s unconditional acceptance of us and delight in us as beloved children. It is living by faith, trusting God’s steadfast, faithful love for us. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love” (John 15:9). Abiding is holding onto God’s love and grace in the face of our failure. It means we trust God to not abandon us even when we fail. It is claiming God’s forgiveness for how we failed yet again. It is resisting the guilt and shame of merit-based thinking that spirals down into self-condemnation and self-hate. Abiding is letting God love us when we feel we don’t deserve it. (Deserving language reflects merit-based thinking). Abiding is knowing we are held in a web of divine love and allowing that Love to hold us. 

Abiding allows the ways of God Jesus taught to shape how we think and live. “If you abide in me and my words abide in you” (John 15:7). As we abide in Christ, God’s grace and forgiveness — “my words” — begin to shape our thinking. We move beyond our default merit-based thinking to grace-based thinking. This shift in our thinking confronts the attitudes we harbor in our hearts toward others — attitudes that are the product of merit-based thinking. The Spirit cleanses our hearts by healing these critical, judgmental attitudes. As a result, the spirit out of which we live is transformed. A servant, grace-filled spirit replaces the competitive, what’s-in-it-for-me, self-serving spirit that merit-based thinking naturally produces.

Abiding takes place in the realm of the heart. It leads to the transformation of the heart — the thinking, the attitudes, the spirit out of which we live. Our behavior, in turn, changes as our thinking is transformed and our hearts are cleansed. (Our behavior always expresses what is in our hearts.) As we abide in Christ, his life flows through us, producing fruit. We love as Jesus loved. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12).

Abiding is learning to live by faith in the steadfast, faithful love of God. It is learning to live by grace. It is resting in grace.

2nd Sunday of Easter, 2022 - Abiding

 Abiding – it’s such a beautiful concept, such a powerful metaphor.

“Abide in me,” John 15:4.

Drawing from the metaphor of the vine and the branches, abiding is staying connected. As long as the branch is connected to the vine, the life of the vine flows through the branch, producing fruit.

In the gospel of John, abiding is the way of life for the follower of Jesus. It is the secret to the life of those who follower Jesus. “”Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me” (John 15:4). 

Abiding produces fruit, much fruit (John 15:5). Abiding enriches our experience of prayer and releases its power in our lives (John 15:7). Abiding empowers us to live the ways of God Jesus taught so that our lives are patterned after and reflect the life of Jesus (John 15:10). Abiding produces the joy of Christ in our lives (John 15:11). Abiding leads us to love as Jesus loved … to love one another with the self-giving, self-sacrificing love of God (John 15:12-13). 

Abiding – it’s such a beautiful concept, such a powerful metaphor … and a constant challenge.

Abiding is staying connected to Christ. It is staying attuned to the Spirit and the Spirit’s guidance in the depths of our being. Yet it is so easy to get distracted … to get consumed with responsibilities, tasks, schedule, busyness … to constantly be on-the-go. 

An underlying assumption of our Western culture undercuts this abiding in Christ. This assumption unconsciously drives us and shapes the spirit with which we live. The assumption is that productivity is the measure of our worth and value. 

Productivity is one of the top values in our Western culture. It is foundational to our culture. Productivity calls for of self-effort and self-reliance coupled with determination, commitment, discipline, focus, and perseverance. Our success in being productive demonstrates our worth and value. Our society rewards our productivity with wealth and status. As a result, the amount of our wealth becomes another indicator of our worth and value. A natural byproduct of our focus on productivity is how we look down on people who do not work, viewing them as lazy grafters who are out to take what is rightfully ours. (Think those “on welfare.”) Yet another byproduct surfaces as we get older. Retirement and aging create identity crises as our work — the means by which we produced — is taken from us. In a productivity-oriented culture, busyness becomes a mark of importance. “Staying busy” becomes a badge we wear to prop up our sense of importance. 

Busyness is a barrier to abiding. Abiding, not busyness, bears fruit in the life of the Christ-follower. 

Fruit is different from productivity. Whereas productivity is the result of self-effort and self-reliance coupled with determination, commitment, discipline, focus, and perseverance, fruit is the natural product of the life of Christ flowing through us. This Spirit-produced life of Christ is expressed through our gifts and passions. While the fruit-bearing process involves commitment, discipline, focus, and perseverance, it is not the result of self-effort or self-reliance. It is the result of the Spirit’s work in us and through us. In other words, bearing fruit cannot be forced. The commitment, discipline, focus, and perseverance in the life of the Christ-follower is upon abiding. The focus is on the relationship that produces the fruit, not the fruit itself. As we stay connected, the life of Christ naturally flows through us, producing fruit. 

Our busyness with its subtle self-importance blocks our ability to stay connected with Christ. While our busyness may make us productive — or at least, have the appearance of being productive — it does not make us fruitful. In fact, it keeps us from being fruitful. Bearing fruit comes through staying connected with Christ — abiding. 

Abiding – it’s such a beautiful concept, such a powerful metaphor … and such a constant challenge to our “staying busy” thinking and living. 

Easter, 2022 - John's Unique Account of the Resurrection

Christ is risen! Alleluia!

Today we celebrate Jesus’s resurrection from the dead. John’s account of the resurrection guides our thoughts in this reflection.

The account of the resurrection in the gospel of John (John 20) differs from the accounts found in the synoptic gospels. John focuses on Mary Magdalene, one of the women who were a part of Jesus’s circle of disciples (Luke 8:1-3). In John’s account, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb alone, but in the synoptic gospels, she was accompanied by other women. When she arrived, she saw that the stone had been rolled away from the door of the tomb. Assuming that someone had stolen Jesus’s body, she ran to Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved — commonly understood to be John — to tell them. This detail is unique to John’s gospel. In Matthew and Luke, the women ran to report to the disciples only after they had encountered an angel. They went to report that Jesus had been raised from the dead. Here, Mary Magdalene ran to report she had found the tomb had been opened. Naturally, Peter and John ran to the tomb to check out what had happened. John’s gospel is the only one to indicate that they went to the tomb. The synoptic gospels have no mention of any of the Twelve going to the tomb. Only the women went to the tomb in those accounts. John, arriving first, stood outside looking in. When Peter arrived, he seemingly did not hesitate. He entered the tomb. They found the tomb was empty, but they found nothing to indicate what had happened. They found the linen burial cloths, lying where they had been cast aside. They also found the cloth that had been used to wrap Jesus’s head, rolled up and lying apart from the other burial clothes. Having taken stock of the situation, they left the tomb, returning home. John’s gospel indicates that John believed (John 20:8), i.e., John believed Jesus had been raised from the dead, not that his body had been moved or stolen. The gospel writer specifically noted “as yet they did not understand the scripture that he must rise from the dead” (John 20:9).

After Peter and John left the tomb, the story again focused on Mary Magdalene. First, she looked into the tomb without entering it. There she saw two angels who spoke to her. “Woman, why are you weeping?” (John 20:13). She did not recognize them as angels. As she turned away from the tomb, she saw Jesus, but thought he was the gardener. Jesus repeated the question posed by the angels, “Woman, why are you weeping?” He probed further, “Whom are you looking for?”  (John 20:15). That question was all the opening she needed. Still thinking someone had taken Jesus’s body, she asked about where his body had been taken. Only after Jesus called her by name did she recognize him. “Mary!” (John 20:16).

The personal touch of being called by name enabled Mary to recognize him. “Teacher!” (John 20:16). Apparently, she grabbed him, hugging him in joy for Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me” (John 20:17). He then instructed her to go tell the other disciples. Having been raised from the dead, he was returning to the Father from whom he had come (John 20:17). Mary returned to the other disciples, announcing to them that she had seen Jesus, very much alive. She told them all that Jesus had said to her (John 20:18). Mary Magdalene was the first witness to the resurrection and the first to proclaim it to others. She was the first apostle, i.e., one sent to announce the good news!

It seems to me a central theme runs through all the twists and turns of John’s unique resurrection story. Jesus is the rabbi (teacher) who teaches us the spiritual truths we otherwise do not see, even though the scripture bears witness to these truths (John 20:9). Jesus reveals to us the Father so that we may know him (John 17:3). (This is a major, repeated theme in John’s gospel — John 1:14, 18; 14:9 — reemphasized in the story of the resurrection.) Through Jesus, we are beloved children of God (John 1:12-13; 1 John 3:1-3). We know God with the same kind of intimacy as Jesus did, as Abba (Father) — “to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” (John 20:17). We live in intimate relationship with God as Father. In and through Jesus, we have a personal relationship with God in which God knows us by name. We participate in God’s life, the life shared in the Godhead — what the gospel of John calls eternal life.

In the story of Mary Magdalene, Jesus told Mary, “Do not hold on to me” (John 20:17). This detail has multiple layers of meaning (in my mind). On the surface, it refers to Mary Magdalene joyfully clinging to Jesus, perhaps afraid of losing him again. On another level, this part of the story points to a spiritual truth. We cannot experience the full life of the resurrection until we stop holding on to old ways of thinking about God and our old ways of relating to God. Like Mary Magdalene, we have to turn loose of the old in order to experience the new.

Following the Apostle Paul’s teaching about the resurrection (1 Corinthians 15), we traditionally use Easter Sunday to celebrate that, in rising from the dead, Jesus destroyed the power of sin and death. His resurrection sets us free from the destructive, controlling power of sin and its consequence, death. We no longer need fear death.

Death has been swallowed up in victory.

Where, O death, is your victory?

Where, O death, is your sting?

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ, 1 Corinthians 15:54-55.

John’s account of the resurrection proclaims a different reality. John’s account proclaims the truth of all that Jesus taught about God. God is a loving Father — Abba — who relates to us out of grace. We are beloved children, claimed in Christ Jesus through the waters of baptism (John 1:12-13). Through the indwelling Spirit, both Jesus and the Father dwell in us (John 14:23). We are participants in God’s nature and, thereby, in God’s life — eternal life. The very life of God flows in us and through us, empowering us to love as Jesus loved (John 15:1-17).

This Easter, as we talk about victory over death, may we also talk about life — God’s life in us, i.e., eternal life. May we hear John’s account of the resurrection call us to turn loose of old ways of thinking about and relating to God! May we embrace God as Abba even as God, with delight, embraces us as beloved children!

“To all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. … From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:12-13, 16).

Good Friday, 2022 - Looking at the Cross through a Different Len

Today is Good Friday, the day we remember Jesus’s death on the cross. As we remember, we reflect. We attempt to give meaning to his horrific, tortured death. How are we to understand his death on the cross?  “Jesus died for our sins” is how we commonly explain it.

What do we mean when we say “Jesus died for our sins”?

The widely accepted understanding is that Jesus died because of our sins and on behalf of our sins. This way of explaining Jesus’s death on the cross follows this line of thinking. We humans sin, falling short of the life for which we were created. As Paul said, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Following our own will, we disobey God and violate God’s laws. Because of our sins, we stand under God’s condemnation and judgment. We deserve to be punished for our sins. In his death on the cross, Jesus took our place. He took on the punishment we deserved. He stood in for us, dying on our behalf and on behalf of our sins. He died so God would forgive our sins.

This theology is called substitutionary atonement. Jesus was our substitute, experiencing what we deserved. His death atoned for our sins, satisfying God’s righteous judgment and freeing God to forgive us.

This understanding — theology — is reflected in many of our hymns and praise music. Most of the hymns about the cross and about Jesus’s blood reflect this line of thinking. It is captured in the words of the popular praise chorus “He Paid a Debt He Did Not Owe”:

He paid a debt he did not owe,
I owed a debt I could not pay,
I needed someone to wash my sins away;
And now I sing a brand new song,
Amazing grace all day long,
Christ Jesus paid a debt
That I could never pay.

We have heard this interpretation of Jesus’s death on the cross so much that we assume it is true. Few of us have stopped to actually examine it.

What would it look like to view the cross through a different set of lens? Why would we?

Allow me to address the last question first: why would we look at Jesus’s death on the cross any other way? There are actually a number of reasons.

(I recognize most of us have difficulty accepting anything that challenges what we believe. We cling to what we believe is true. After all, we have built our lives upon this understanding. It has shaped how we think and live. So naturally, we will have difficulty understanding Jesus’s death on the cross any other way.)

This understanding of Jesus’s death on the cross did not surface until the eleventh century. It was formulated by Anselm, arch-bishop of Canterbury. It reflected the feudal structure upon which English life was built at that time. The land was owned and managed by lords, the ruling class, on behalf of the king. The common man worked the land for their particular lord. Whenever a common man did something that wronged his lord, he was punished for his wrongdoing. The punishment was an attempt to make right the wrong that was done. The wrongdoing, however, was also an offense to the lord’s honor. That honor had to be appeased, a balm applied to the lord’s wounded ego. In addition to being punished for his wrongdoing, the wrongdoer was subjected to some kind of greater humiliation and punishment to atone his lord’s honor. Once the wrongdoing had been punished and the offended honor atoned, the lord could once again be gracious in his dealings with the underling. Anselm used this cultural practice as a way of explaining Jesus’s death on the cross. The wrongdoing had to be punished; God’s honor had to be atoned; only then could God forgive. Anselm viewed Jesus’s death on the cross through the lens of his hierarchal, feudal culture.

Not only is this understanding built upon a cultural practice of eleventh century England, it is also built upon merit-based thinking. Merit-based thinking demands that we get what we deserve. Wrongdoing and failure have to be punished. Jesus, following the teaching of the Hebrew Scriptures, taught that God “does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities” (Psalm 103:10). Instead, God relates to us out of who God is, particularly out of God’s steadfast, faithful love.

For as the heavens are high above the earth,

So great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;

As far as the east is from the west,

So far he removes our transgressions from us (Psalm 103:11-12).

Merit-based thinking and relating is our human default, but it is not God’s.

Consider what this common understanding of the cross says about God. It portrays God as an angry, offended God who must be appeased before he will forgive. That is not who Jesus said God is nor is it in line with what God revealed to Moses. At Sinai, the LORD described himself as merciful and gracious, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. That steadfast, faithful love is expressed in being slow to anger and in forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin (Exodus 34:6-7). As seen in the life and ministry of Jesus, God relates to us out of grace and forgiveness. This popular way of understanding Jesus’s death on the cross does not align with the revealed character of God.

Additionally, this way of understanding the cross keeps the focus on me: my sin, my wrongdoing, my debt, my need, God’s love for me, my salvation. It produces a me-centered, man-centered salvation. Lurking beneath this way of thinking about the cross is the ego-centric self.

Finally, this way of understanding Jesus’s death on the cross was not the way the New Testament writers understood it. Nevertheless, because it is the way we have been taught to understand Jesus’s death on the cross, we read the New Testament writings through the lens of God punishing Jesus for what we deserved.

Which brings me (finally) to my first question and the thrust of this musing: what would it look like to view the cross through a different set of lens? Specifically, what would it look like to view Jesus’s death on the cross through the lens of God’s character?

I have already identified God’s character as being merciful and gracious. The central, defining characteristic of God’s character is steadfast, faithful love that refuses to give up on or abandon us. God’s love is expressed in two primary ways: God is slow to anger and God forgives our sins. The writer of 1 John understood God’s revealed character when he wrote “God is love” (1 John 4:8). Paul used the word grace to express what such love looks like. Jesus was the in-the-flesh embodiment of such love, extending grace and forgiveness to all.

So, viewing Jesus’s death on the cross through the lens of God’s character, how are we to understand it? 

Paul helps us. Paul saw Jesus’s death on the cross as an expression of God’s faithful love that refused to give up on us or abandon us. For Paul, the cross was God being faithful to the divine character and to his covenant with us, that is, God being righteous. “For in it (the gospel of Jesus’s death and resurrection) the righteousness of God is revealed” (Romans 1:17). The cross was God loving us, refusing to give up on us or abandon us … even when we crucified his Son on the cross.

I like the way Richard Rohr speaks of the cross. For me, it captures the idea of the cross being an expression of God’s faithful love. Rohr says, “Jesus did not die on the cross to convince God to forgive us. Jesus died on the cross to convince us that God has already forgiven us.” Rohr’s understanding puts the focus back on God. It leads to a God-centered Christianity.

Viewing the cross through the lens of God’s character, one might ask, “From what, then, does Jesus's death on the cross save us?”

Jesus’s death on the cross does not save us from God’s judgment. God’s love displaces judgment. (See Hosea 11:8-9.) The cross is an expression of love, not judgment.

If not judgment, what then? Jesus’s death on the cross — or, rather, God’s faithful love that refuses to give up on us or abandon us — saves us from ourselves, from our merit-oriented thinking, from our stubborn self-reliance, from the natural outcome of our self-destructive choices (what Paul calls the wrath of God, Romans 1:18-32). In other words, Jesus’s death on the cross saves us from our sins.

In addition to Jesus’s death on the cross, God’s steadfast, faithful love is seen at Pentecost in the outpouring of the Spirit to live with us and in us and among us. The Spirit works in us, transforming our hearts and minds, conforming us to the image of Christ. Before the Spirit’s work is done, we will have been recreated in the likeness of Jesus. Living out of steadfast, faithful love, God will continue to be faithful to us, bringing us to Christ-like maturity.

What new ways of thinking, what new ways of living might we discover if we viewed not just the cross, but the entirety of our relationship with God through the eyes of God’s character?