Psalms of Ascent

by Wye Huxford

Psalms 120 - 134 all have a title in the Hebrew text which is often translated something like "A Song of Ascents."  While it is probably impossible to say with any absoluteness, many scholars believe these psalms were sung by ancient Jewish travelers as they came to Jerusalem for the major feasts, "ascending up Mount Zion" to worship God.

Eugene Peterson, in the 1990s, wrote a wonderful study of these psalms titled A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.  That book has been updated and remains in print and focuses on the challenge of being a follower of God in a culture where everything must happen instantly.

For the past several weeks I have been reading and re-reading these psalms.  Not in the sense of wanting to interpret them, discover what intriguing Hebrew word might be behind some English word, and all the "stuff" that might go along with good Bible-study habits.  Rather, I've been just reading them.  Often I've taken advantage of the nice weather and read them as I walked around outside - thinking that the ancient Jews who first read them probably weren't sitting in a temperature-controlled office or home, replete with a comfortable chair, good lighting, and all sorts of reference works should they want to dig into something in these psalms.  These are traveling psalms - perhaps best meant just to be read and absorbed.

They cover a wide array of life issues - and speak powerfully to God's care and provision for His people in the midst of struggle.  "I called, He answered" is right at the beginning of Psalm 120.  Each of these wonderfully written poems describes something about my life with God that is refreshing.  And I must say, reading them outside in the world God made has proved to be a great reminder that "my help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth"  (121:2, 124:8).  It is Psalm 133 that reminds us of the blessed experience of brothers and sisters dwelling together in unity.  Psalm 134 ends the Psalms of Ascent with a prayer that "the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth, bless you from Zion."

Less than a month from today is Thanksgiving.  We are living in a time when, looking in one direction, it seems that blessings are ours in ways too great for us to count - even if we follow that old hymn's advice and "name them one by one."  Yet, in a different direction, we are troubled in ways that frighten us when we try to imagine the destination of a culture so determined to walk away from "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy" (Philippians 4:8).

It is almost as if we are somehow being ripped apart by opposing forces:  The goodness of the blessings of God and the world He created surround us while the ever-creeping presence of godless outlooks gets closer and closer.

The Psalms of Ascent can give perspective.  In so many ways as I spoke of our own world, I also described the very world the ancient Jews lived in.

So, if you are looking for an exercise in spiritual formation for the next 30 or so days as we head up to the mountain of holidays called Thanksgiving, I invite you to join me in daily reading the Psalms of Ascent (120 - 134) outside if at all possible.  Let God, the Maker of heaven and earth, speak to your heart through these words in the context of the very world He made.

I'm guessing that it could make Thanksgiving this year even more meaningful than usual.

(Should you decide to join me in this activity, I would love to hear from you - wye.huxford@point.edu - about your experience.)

God's Character, and Mine

by Wye Huxford

Matthew 5:48 is a part of the Sermon on the Mount and that in itself should be a bit of a warning that it is one of the biblical texts that can make you uncomfortable.  This is especially true if our relationship to Jesus is more casual than intentional.

But here is what it says:  "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (NRSV).  This is one of those places where we might be tempted to stop reading and say, "Really, Jesus?"  The word typically translated "perfect" ultimately seems to reflect the idea of having fully attained what something was designed to be.  As creatures made in God's image, such perfection would be that moment when we fully live out God's intentional purposes for humans when He made us in the first place.

This futuristic command is the summary statement for a series of comments from Jesus on such topics as murder, adultery, divorce, false swearing, revenge, and loving your neighbor and hating your enemy.  Jesus seems to believe that Israel has, over the years of having been entrusted with the Law, missed the point of much of what the Law had to say.

When we start reading Scripture as God intended it to be read (or specifically in the case of this particular text, the Law) then the idea that our character and God's character will cross paths seems a reasonable thing for Jesus to command.  The whole Sermon on the Mount may best be understood as a description of what Israel would have looked like had Israel read the Law as God intended.  Thus, instead of thinking as long as we didn't murder someone, we were okay with God, or as long as we didn't actually commit adultery we were okay with God, we would know that focusing on behavior rather than character is always a fatal mistake.  Hence Jesus' command:  "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." 

This idea has led me to think that when I read Scripture, study Scripture, argue with Scripture, nothing could be more important than asking two fundamental questions in response to the mandate, "Be perfect as my heavenly Father is perfect":(a) What does this text teach me about God's character? and, (b) How can I learn to emulate that aspect of God's character in my life?

When I start reading Scripture this way, it suddenly speaks to my life in ways I didn't realize it could - or perhaps in some cases, didn't believe it did.  I no longer have to ask, "Where's that verse that tells me how Christians should react to immigration issues?"  I can simply reflect upon, "How does God react to the immigration issue?"  It isn't a matter of finding a verse about health care for everyone, but treating others as God does.  In other words, it simply is a matter of "being as complete in fulfilling the purpose for which we were made as God is complete."

I know that's a tall order.  But I didn't give it - Jesus did.  Paul evidently saw it as important.  In Romans 15:7 he says, "Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God."  Wrestling with the idea of God's character as the model for our own may occasionally leave us with a limp - it seems to have done that for Jacob (Genesis 32:22ff), why not us?  But how greater the blessing of a limp because we have struggled to be like God, than the perfect gait of one who never thought that life really is about character before it is about behavior.

Smug Has To Go!

by Wye Huxford

WSB Radio in Atlanta has the best traffic reports every morning and afternoon during what often seems to be endless rush hours.  If you know anything at all about Atlanta traffic, you know that Captain Herb and his crew on WSB can be a huge help.

The preacher from one of Atlanta's larger churches often buys thirty-second spots on WSB Radio, and sometimes on television stations.  (His last name, by the way, isn't Stanley.)  He actually says some pretty good things - often focusing on marriage, parenting, and living a meaningful life.  But every time I hear one of those spots I instantly think, "He sounds a little smug," and then I wonder how non-believers respond.

I'm not saying this particular preacher is smug.  I met him once and he was very personable and cordial. What I am wondering, though, is whether or not you can really talk about the moral and social implications of the Christian gospel to an audience that isn't exclusively Christian without sounding a bit smug.  While the gospel and its implications for life make so much sense to us, can we discover a way to talk about it without sounding a bit smug to people for whom they don't make much sense?

Tim Keller, in his book Center Church, says "A missional church, if it is to reach people in a post-Christian culture, must recognize that most of our more recently formulated and popular gospel presentations will fall on deaf ears because hearers will be viscerally offended or simply unable to understand the basic concepts of God, sin, and redemption" (page 272).  In other words, we come off sounding rather smug!

Keller goes on to say, "This fact does not, however, require a change in the classic Christian doctrines, but rather skillfulness in contextualizing them so our gospel presentations are compelling even to people who are not (yet) fully persuaded by them" (page 272).  Clearly the issue isn't that we have to make the challenge of the gospel go away - but to discover a way to talk about the challenge so that others will listen to us.

There has to be some tension between the content of the gospel itself and our discovery of the most appropriate way to talk about the gospel.  And perhaps we could use a reminder that the gospel is, first and foremost, about Jesus.  Most of us would probably agree that Corinth was among the most troubled spots Paul ever planted a church.  Their theological and sociological problems are legendary.  Yet Paul can say, "We preach Christ and Him crucified" (1 Corinthians 1:18-25).

It seems odd to me to listen to the helpful tone of Captain Herb tell me an alternate route followed by the smug Christian voice telling me what is right for my life.  Getting your marriage right or your role as a parent right seems a little more complicated than a traffic jam and it will take a little more than the nearest alternate route.  But the gospel so often comes across in such smug, you-know-I-am-right tones that unless I really am committed to following Him, the mere smugness of it all closes my ears.

The smugness factor often makes us appear more anti-cultural than cross-cultural.  The more cross-cultural we are, the more likely we are to transform the world we live in.  The more anti-cultural we are, the less likely others will even hear what we're saying, much less allow it to transform them.  Of course our greatest testimony to the world about the uniqueness of the Christian gospel is not a radio ad we pay for, but our willingness to serve others - "labors of love" as Paul describes it in 1 Thessalonians 1 - as we bring God's grace to bear on the daily reality of living in this world.

All Things

by Wye Huxford

Perhaps there was a time when the non-church-going culture and the church-going culture were similar enough in outlook and basic values that it was easier for a believer to address the inevitable tension between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world.  I know the tension has always been there, but it seems as though there are periods where the tension is more intense.

I once heard William Willimon suggest that the bridge over the gap that exists between the gospel and our culture needs to be a one-way bridge.  That is, we must carefully bring the gospel to our culture, while carefully avoiding the temptation to allow our culture to alter our gospel.  That's quite an assignment!

When I read 1 Corinthians 9:19-23, I wonder if that isn't the struggle Paul is addressing at Corinth.  It is one of those texts from Paul that cracks open the door to his heart and passion for the gospel in ways that can be helpful to us as we seek to live our lives for the sake of the gospel. 

I am instantly drawn to the idea that Paul adamantly declares himself to be in a "state of being free" in reference to "all things."  Yet in the spirit of being Jesus to the world around him, he makes the volitional choice "to become a slave" to all.  With a fair measure of emphasis he says, "I have made myself a slave to all."  But this isn't just for the sake of being a slave - he desires "to win more of them."

The structure of this paragraph is interesting.  Six times Paul uses a Greek conjunction that often denotes purpose - frequently translated "in order that."  The first five of those six phrases are followed by the verb "to win."  He desires to win Jews, people under the law, people not under the law, those who are weak, and in the final all-inclusive way, he becomes all things to all people.  But the final "in order that" gives depth and understanding to his idea of "to win" when it is followed by "to save."

Near the end of the paragraph Paul reminds himself and his readers of what would motivate him to become so many other things.  "For the sake of the gospel" is how he describes motivation.  Ultimately he connects his sense of blessing and joy ("he uses the same conjunction "in order that") with the potential of winning others to Christ.

If we look at this paragraph as a whole, at the beginning Paul is willing to give up "being free" and that "makes himself a slave."  If you look at the end, it is the very willingness to become a slave for the sake of the gospel that gives him joy in life.  It isn't very often in our culture that we think about giving up freedom in order to experience joy!

Between "the beginning" and "the end" of the paragraph - there is this litany of "I became" statements that speak to the nature of what it means to "become a slave" and to the purpose of that slavery, which is "to win some."

At some point, a part of growing in Christ requires that we ask and answer the same question that Paul asked.  "What am I willing to become this week in my daily life to influence others for Christ?"

We know from reading Paul's story in Acts and paying attention to the hints he gives in his epistles, that answering that question for him often created tension.  It will, no doubt, do the same for us.  In fact we live in such a divisive culture, it may create tension that we are not prepared to handle.

But the question can't be dismissed.  With the sole motivation of bringing lost people to Christ, where am I willing to be seen?  What am I willing to become?  How far out of my normal comfort zone will I step?

The Crowds

by Wye Huxford

Matthew's story of Jesus is prone to involve "the crowds."  The Greek word typically translated "crowd" appears 174 times in the New Testament; nearly one-third of them are found in the 28 chapters of Matthew.

The Jesus we meet in Matthew has His heart ripped out by "the crowds" that He viewed with compassion, because they were, in Matthew's perfect analogy for his culture, "like sheep without a shepherd."  There is something palpable about the presence of Jesus in Matthew that attracts "great crowds" to hear Him teach.  Yet it is the "crowd" that will demand the release of a murderer and Pilate will wash his hands in front of that very crowd.

At the heart of Jesus' teaching in Matthew is what we call the Sermon on the Mount.  Matthew 5-7 describes what God intended Israel to be in terms that set the stage for what Jesus modeled as the paradigm for kingdom people to do kingdom things.  The sermon describes for us what fulfillment of the Law, not abolishing the Law, must look like.

Interestingly, Matthew introduces his account of the sermon by saying, "Now when He saw the crowds."  There is no detail as to what kind of people made up "the crowd" that day.  It surely was primarily Jewish in terms of faith, but little else can be said about them.  Perhaps some were people very impressed with what they had already seen Jesus do.  In Matthew's chronology, Jesus has recently been baptized, led by the Spirit to be tempted in the wilderness, and begun His ministry by declaring, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near"  (Matthew 4:17).  Peter and Andrew, along with James and John, have been called to be "fishers of men."  In common Matthew language, Jesus has been going about Galilee "teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people" (4:23).  Jesus certainly has a following, and just prior to the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew tells us "Large crowds from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and the region across the Jordan followed Him."

Some of those people must have been sitting on the mountainside.  But along with them might have been some people who saw Jesus as a threat.  Even a casual reading of Matthew (or any of the other gospel accounts of Jesus' life) shows us that not everyone was impressed with Jesus.  For all we know the crowd could have contained some folks who were there out of curiosity and nothing more.

But at the end of the sermon "the crowds" come back into view.  Matthew tells us "The crowds were amazed at His teaching."  The word Matthew uses that is often translated "amazed" could mean something like stunned, awed, or astounded.   However one prefers to say it in English, the bottom line has to be that Jesus and His teaching had a huge impact on "the crowds."

It isn't as if Jesus is offering some "watered down" version of the gospel here.  The Sermon on the Mount continues to be an incredibly challenging word from God about what the kingdom of God should look like.  Jesus challenges us at every juncture of life that following Him requires a reversal of "how things are" so that they can be "as things ought to be" (or in its immediate historical setting, Israel finally living up to God's intentions for them).

Why is it that Jesus "stunned the crowds," but so often in our culture "the crowds" aren't all that impressed with what Christians have to say about life?  Research nearly everywhere suggests that our culture in general and Millenials in particular aren't "awed" by the message of the church.

Could it have something to do with how Jesus viewed "the crowds"?  As noted above, "the crowds" caused Him to be moved with compassion becaue He saw them as "sheep without a shepherd."  but if Kinnamon, Lyons, and others are correct, "the crowds" today tend to view us as judgmental, homophobic, far-right politically, and other terms less than "awe-producing."  If "the crowds" are reading some of the websites and Facebook pages that profess to be reflecting the gospel message, there is little wonder why "the crowds" feel that way!

Jesus must have viewed "the crowds" as opportunity, not threat.  And even though "the crowds" will turn on Him at the end, He still says "forgive them" and on the Day of Pentecost, a pretty impressive "crowd" responds to the gospel.

The realization that our world ("the crowd") is indeed "harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd" should evoke compassion, not judgment.  Until that happens, "the crowds" aren't likely to be stunned by what we have to say!