The Platinum Rule?

The “Golden Rule” has been handed down by religious and philosophical thinkers in one form or another for thousands of years.  It’s often pointed out that while most versions of the rule contain a negative instruction–”Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want done to you”– Jesus gave a positive version, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” (not actually found in the Bible, but a similar statement is issued in Matthew 7:12).

However, while that’s a very important idea, repeated several times in the Bible, Jesus gave what I think is an even greater commandment, or maybe a more emphatic rephrasing of the first one.

After Jesus ate the Passover meal with his apostles the night before he was crucified, he washed each one’s feet as a sign of his love and sacrifice for them.  He told them that it was also an example of how they were to love others:

For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.

John 13:15

So we are not just to treat others how we want to be treated. 

We should do unto others as Christ has done unto us.

But what does that mean?

But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 5:8

God’s love for us was selfless and total.  Selfless because he showed us love at the very moment we despised him; there was no reason for him to favor us.  Total because he gave everything for his beloved people.

How on earth are we supposed to love people like that?!

The short answer is, we can’t.

The fuller answer is that through the continuing work of the Spirit in us, God makes us more Christlike over time, enabling us to love more like he first loved us.  But even then, when we love someone totally and selflessly, we owe our motivation and ability to do so to the same Spirit.

For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate [to be] conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren.

Romans 8:29

Least in the Kingdom

Luke 7:28 For I say unto you, Among those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist: but he that is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.

John the Baptist was the greatest prophet ever.  Greater than Elijah or Moses.  More passionate than David.  More eccentric than Ezekiel.  Why was his prophecy so important? Because, like other prophets, he prophesied about Jesus’ life and death, but unlike his predecessors, he directly prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry in Jesus’ own time. Other prophets even prophesied about John’s ministry.

But Jesus says that even John has little compared to one who enters the kingdom of God.  Who enters the kingdom of God?  Those born again of water and the Spirit, that is, Christians.  So the least Christian is greater than John the Baptist, who was in turn the greatest “Old Testament” prophet.

What makes a Christian so much better than the prophets and godly men of old?  Certainly not the quality of our deeds!  It’s obviously not our character!

I think part of the reason Jesus says Christians, partakers in the New Covenant, are greater– more blessed– than the prophets of Israel is that, despite their memorable encounters with God, the godly men and women of the Old Testament didn’t live to see their hopes of a savior realized.  The Holy Spirit didn’t live in their hearts to teach them and guide them in the way he does in those of Christians.

Every Christian, great or small, has a gift that any one of our biblical heroes would kill to have!  David longed to know more about his redeemer.  Isaiah knew details of Jesus’ death, but he never knew about his life and teachings.  Every Christian gets to talk to Jesus every day as intimately, if not quite so dramatically, as Moses, unique among all Israel, did from time to time.

How precious a gift we carry in our hearts, to know our Savior by name.

(The song that got me thinking about this.  As Christians we can ask God to show us his glory in a way few Israelites would have dared– because we are made right with him through Christ.)

An ‘Istoric Evening

I just spent the better part of two hours arguing with people on an online forum about whether the phrase should be pronounced “a historic” or “an historic.” (The answer, of course, is that you say “a” if you pronounce the H, as a typical American would, and “an” if you don’t, e.g., if you’re from the East End of London.) I poured my linguistic heart out in an attempt to show people the error of their ways and convince the undecideds to come to my side.

I wish I always had this much mental stamina for working on things that really matter. The Kingdom of Heaven, for example. The Word of God, to name another. I wish the same passion that filled my soul discussing phonetic shifts (geek alert) would overcome me when I apply myself to study the Bible.

Not that I don’t think God has a place for academic pursuits, and I’m committed to developing the gifts and passions he’s placed in me.  And not that I don’t love reading his words.  I just hope (and know) that he continues to teach me to fall in love with the scriptures, and that I can be as familiar with the Bible as I am with my Indo-European Dictionary.*

Consider how I love thy precepts: quicken me, O LORD, according to thy lovingkindness. Psalm 119:159

*If you’re also interested in linguistics, please check out the Etymonline and Omniglot links in the sidebar.

The Infamous Sports Analogy

Last night at the restaurant we had a famous person come by and hang out at the bar.  No entourage, no giant sunglasses– just a regular guy in a baseball cap having a beer and watching major league baseball on the big TV.

His name is Kevin Millwood, a former pitcher in the Braves’ late 90s all-star lineup and now a starting pitcher for the Texas Rangers.

As he watched the game (I don’t remember who was playing– obviously not the Rangers) I thought how incredibly different every move on that television must look to him than it did to me or anyone else in the restaurant.  Every glance, twitch and expression means something to him– “He’s thinking about a slider.  Two-seam fastball.  He might steal.”  He sees and knows these things more intimately than even the most avid fan, because he’s been right there, and he probably knows many of the players in the game.  Watching baseball as Kevin Millwood must be a much more connected experience than it is for me.

We see a similar process in the Christian’s relationship to the Bible.  An outsider may see a bunch of boring old guys with an altar, or at best some interesting stories about a faraway culture.  But it’s different for us Christians.

We know the God of the Bible personally.  We can commiserate with David when he’s rebuked by Nathan for his misdeeds, because we’ve had our fellow believers call us out when we were on the wrong path.  We know exactly why Jonah got on a boat going the other way, because we’ve been just as terrified to do what God demands of us.  We can empathize with the prodigal son when he sees his father run to him, because we too have experienced God’s immeasurable grace pouring into our lives in spite of our sins.

And just like Kevin can palpably feel the roar of the crowd and the intensity of the spotlights when he watches ESPN, the Bible becomes a living, tangible reality in the hands of a Christian moved by the same Spirit who moved through those pages.

*Small update* Kevin came back in last night and I had a chance to talk to him for a minute.  I asked him if it was indeed true that he could understand all the minute aspects of the game because of his experience, and he confirmed what I thought.  He was really down to earth and cool, and when I shook his hand it was like being clamped by a vise!

Keeping it real

My wife related a conversation she’d had with someone about religion.  This person was complaining that Christians don’t even think about what they’re saying- that everything doctrinal and sacred to us is really just rote, and we don’t consider the real meaning of what we believe.  His case in point was about Jesus’ occupation as a carpenter.  Sure, we all say that he was a carpenter for most of his life.  So why do so many depictions of him show a frail, meek little guy with spindly fingers?

Skinny Jesus

The real Jesus– anybody who’d swung a hammer and hauled logs for twenty years–must have been BUILT.

Ripped Jesus

I have to be careful what kind of preconceptions I’m forcing on the Bible- and on God himself- and learn instead to let myself be formed and reformed by the Gospel.

And maybe there’s something to that guy’s argument- what else is perfectly obvious to someone who sees the Bible with fresh eyes that I ignore because of my familiarity with it?

Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.  I am a stranger in the earth: hide not thy commandments from me. Psalm 119:18-19