Ontogeny and Phylogeny

"Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day."

Any of you who had to take biology may have had to memorize the phrase, "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny," a pedantic mouthful which asserted that any individual organism repeated in its early development all the evolutionary stages of its species. In other words, a human fetus went from zygote to ichthyoid through reptilian to mammalian characteristics. As far as I know, the theory has been discredited among biologists. But I am fascinated with it because it is a good way to grasp the nature of God, sin, light, darkness, redemption, eschatology, and the nature of our world. It means that in order to comprehend those things, we must, in a fit of ontogenetic egocentrism, begin with ourselves.

So, here I go, wandering out on very thin ice, trying to describe Christian experience as generically as possible. It seems to me that every Christian finds within himself the light of Christ, in small or large measure. How that light gets there--through baptism, through adult conversion, through a hidden work of the Holy Spirit (already we are on the cusp of division)--the light is there, and it is instantly met by the darkness in us, and inner contention and warfare ensue. In fact, it increases as the Christian grows in wisdom and awareness, and joins himself more and more in battle for the side of light. We can call it gradual justification, sanctification, or divinization (I can hear the ice cracking), but we all know the battle.

It is also true, as we age, that we are not going to reach 100% victory in the struggle against flesh and sin before we die. Only a cataclysm can end the war. We call it death. Whether or not the victory that results from that cataclysm is instantaneous or progressive (a tip of the hat to purgatory) is beyond my purpose here. I am trying to describe what all Christians experience in common: new birth, conflict of light and darkness, a final cataclysm, and a fulfillment of God's promised salvation somewhere on the other side.

While "flesh" and "spirit" and not exact parallels to "body" and "soul" in the Scriptures, it is obvious in the Bible that the body must die before a future resurrection is possible. How are we to treat it in the meantime? Should it be cleaned and fed and kept in as much health as possible? Of course. Carrying the broken image of God, it is still to be nurtured and treated with respect until it is raised a "spiritual" body. My point here is not to probe the next world, but to suggest that we have a responsibility even to that which is passing away.

Back to our analogy from biology: The world began almost at once in darkness. Genesis describes cultures outside the gates of Eden founded on pride and power. God curtailed both by the curse of inarticulate speech. And in a hidden way He began to raise up a line of light (Melchizedek, Abraham, Jethro, Moses, etc) that culminated in the Light of Bethlehem. Since then the light has continued to grow, but the "darkness did not comprehend it." The phylogenic struggle is between the light, flickering at times and at other times flaring up, and the darkness that surrounds and attempts to cover it. The struggle can only end in the cataclysm of the final judgment.

Does this mean that those who bear the light have a right to curse those in darkness? No more than the Christian can mistreat or ignore his own mortal body. Those in the light carry a responsibility to relieve pain and oppression. In fact, "responsibility" is too negative a word. Joy or Delight would do better. They were on the face of Jesus in the midst of the ten lepers.

So much for the parallel of the individual Christian's life and the time span of the world. There remains one more question. How does this apply to the church? I really see no apparent difference. The church is full of light; in fact, carries the whole light of the world within herself. And the church, at least in her members, also walks in the body of flesh. This is most manifested in her divisions. The same arguments persist, and the same arguments are repeated. I have read several books lately that are updates of older and more profound works, repeating old arguments as if they were newborn, written for an audience which prefers shorter chapters with simpler words. Sometimes I think there has been no progress for 500 years, or 1000, if we are counting from the Great Schism.

To be fair, it is impossible to hear the Story and not interpret it. Even the four Gospel writers had different agendas for different audiences. But just as they are willing to read all four Gospels, the people of God need to literally hear another side of the Story. I also need to point out that the light of the church exists most intimately in local congregations, in personal witness and care, rather than in institutional methods. There is light shining in small places, and it seems to be spreading.

But I wonder, if we follow the ontogenetic pattern, if a cataclysm might break the power of division. I remember hearing a story once--perhaps apocryphal but full of truth--of a group of clergy of different traditions arrested and detained for torture and execution in a hostile (communist?) state. The common cell brought them closer together. One (assumed Protestant) suggested that they take Communion together. The high churchmen were horrified. "We can only say the mass over the relics of a saint or martyr!" The response: "Brothers, we are all martyrs here." They petitioned the guards for bread and wine. May we do so with less harsh motivation.

(PS: Some good reads. GK Chesterton's Life of Thomas Aquinas, Peter Leithart's Athananius, John Flavel's The Fountain of Life--a Puritan study of the atonement, and Keith Mathison's Given for You--a study of Calvin's doctrine of the Eucharist)

The Scapegoat

(From a series of devotionals I'm doing where I work)

"...Aaron shall lay both is hands on the head of the live goat, and confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel.... The goat shall bear all their iniquities on itself into a remote area, and he shall let the goat go free in the wilderness." -Leviticus 16:21, 22

"Most merciful God, who art of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, and hast promised forgiveness to all those who confess and forsake their sins; we come before thee in a humble sense of our unworthiness, acknowledging our manifold transgressions of thy righteous laws." -Book of Common Prayer

After the First World War, Germany was a defeated country, humiliated by the allies, and suffering economically from inflation and the loss of men for the labor force. The nation began to look for someone other than itself to blame. Hitler played into this need by pointing to the Jews as the source of all the ills Germany had experienced. This blaming of an innocent party for perceived wrongs is called "scapegoating." A scapegoat is someone who is made to bear the blame for the actions of others.

The term actually goes back to an Old Testament ritual practiced on the Day of Atonement. The High Priest took two goats, one which was sacrificed, and its blood taken into the Temple to cover the sins of the people; the other symbolically took the sins of Israel upon itself and was taken into the wilderness and released. The first goat was a "propitiation." It took upon itself the penalty for sin (death), and as its blood was placed over the ark, the wrath of God was appeased. The second goat was an "expiation," a term that meant to take sin away out of the presence of God.

The Bible describes Jesus as our scapegoat. Jesus takes away our sins "as far as the east is from the west" (Psalm 103:12), an infinite distance. That means that through Him nothing can hinder us from the presence of God, and we "can come boldly before the throne of grace" (Hebrews 10:19). God, according to Isaiah, puts all our sins "behind His back" (38:17), and promises to not even remember them anymore (Isaiah 43:25).

But in spite of these promises, Christians lapse into regarding their relationship to God by their own performance, and often live under the shadow of a haunting guilt or fear that God is not fully reconciled to them. I ask myself a question when I am in those moods: Just how valuable is the blood of Christ to God the Father? The only answer is: "of infinite worth." That means that God does not reluctantly forgive us, but does so joyously, with a determination to bring us into deeper and deeper communication with Himself.

One last thought. How did the Jews know that God accepted the blood of the propitiation and the life of the expiation? Because the High Priest came out the Temple alive at the end of the ceremony! How do we know God accepted the sacrifice of Christ for us? Because He came out of the tomb alive! The resurrection was God's way of validating the completed sacrifice.

The Story

I grew up in a neighborhood in a southern city, back when houses faced the street, and streets had sidewalks, and people sat on their front porches and talked to each other. In that neighborhood, there were neighborhood churches, and Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, Catholics, and Episcopalians could all walk to church from their homes, sometimes passing each other on the way. The only folks who had to drive were the Orthodox, whose church had to serve several neighborhoods.

My parents' preference was the Presbyterian church three blocks down the street. And there, along with the folks in the other churches, I heard the story. It sunk deeply into my child's heart, and as far back as I can remember I believed it. Still do. This time of year I can once again smell the evergreens and candles of the Christmas Season and the story read and acted and sung and professed in the Word. I think after all these years that the high point of faith for me was walking the aisle at the annual pageant, stumbling over my father's bathrobe and scratching at a false beard, bearing gifts (or was it a staff?), and knowing without doubt that Mary Jane Whats-her-name's baby doll in the manger was God's gift to me. Simple story: God became man, died for my sins, and opened his arms to me his child. And when on Christmas Sunday the pastor in his black robe held up a piece of cracker and said "This is my body," I had no idea of the historic minefield I would later discover there. At the time I reached out and took Jesus as he offered himself as a gift to me.

Later I discovered that there were doctrines about the story, and I learned that doctrine arises because man is a thoughtful creature, and in order to interpret what the story means, must ponder and muse and separate the essential from the lesser. Doctrine is a necessary, but in some ways, neutral, thing. At its worst it can divide us, and at its best keep us from believing the wrong story. But it is always a finite thing because the minds that contemplate the story will always only see a part; the story itself and the God of the story are infinite in content and in time. We have not yet adequately explored it.

One thing is for certain: while doctrine can offer protection and direction, it can never offer life. Life comes through the Wisdom of God, and Wisdom comes to us through the story. The best doctrine can say is, "Christianity is relational," a definition that loses its punch simply because it is a definition. Doctrine gives us fine definitions; story makes martyrs. But the story does an even greater wonder: it transforms the common drudgery of life into communion with heaven. Doctrine is like a candle lighting the way for a man; the story is a bright burning sun in the heart of a child.

Christ's Active Obedience

(From a series of devotionals I'm doing at work--a synopsis of Jerry Bridges' The Gospel for Real Life)

"Can any of you prove me guilty of sin?" -John 8:46

"Jesus not only desired to do God's will, He also delighted in doing it." -Jerry Bridges

Before discussing Christ's active obedience for us, we need to first look at a couple of theological concepts that explain why it is important.

First is the concept of "federalism." This means simply that the leader of a group stands for the whole group, and the group's destiny is wrapped up in the decisions of the leader. For instance, while it was true that the Colonial Army defeated the British Army at Yorktown, we usually say, "Cornwallis surrendered to Washington." We might say that all the men on both sides were "in" their leaders.

Biblically, our relationship to Adam is federal. In his fall, we fell, and in his sin, sin indwelt each of us. Likewise, Christ is the federal head of all who have faith in Him. When He lived a perfect life, and when He paid the penalty for sin, all Christians were in Him, and are counted as righteous before God as He is.

The other concept is the "principle of exchange," also known as union with Christ. This is stated clearly in 2 Corinthians 5:21: "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." God reckons our sin onto Christ, who bears it, and reckons us as righteous as our federal head is. This exchange is both legal and vital. "Legal" means that God accepts the exchange outside us--we might say it's a "done deal." "Vital" means that God by His Holy Spirit actually begins a gradual change in us because of the finished work of Christ.

Jesus was always obedient to His Father, and that obedience is "credited" to His followers as if they were as obedient. Theologians describe two types of obedience: active, and passive. Christ's active obedience consisted in how He lived His life; His passive obedience consisted in submitting to what was done to Him, particularly in his crucifixion and death. This can also be seen from the standpoint of the Jewish Law, which gave both precepts and penalties for breaking them. Jesus lived perfectly by the precepts of God's Law, and also bore the penalty exacted for disobedience.

We focus almost entirely on Christ's passive obedience, and often forget that His daily life was lived on our behalf. Christ grew up in a family. There is no indication that he related to them in anger, or jealousy, or selfishness. In His adult life He challenged His contemporaries to find any blemish in Him.

Jesus faced temptations that would destroy any one of us. In the wilderness Satan tempted Him to side-step the will of God. He used the same tactics he used on Adam and Eve in the beginning. He appealed to the "lust of the flesh," (hunger), the "lust of the eye," (coveting), and the "pride of life" (exalting Himself above the Father). Jesus never reacted in anger to the injustice and suffering in His trial and death. He forgave those who crucified Him.

If Jesus was our federal Head and Substitute, then God credits us with His life of perfect obedience. He also places His life within us, and His life is our life, and all our attempts to live for Him, without Him, are useless.