God's Community with God's Commission, part 2We are continuing our exploration of what it means collectively to be God’s image-bearers in the world, in other words, to be God’s community empowered by God’s Spirit in order to undertake God’s commission. What is this commission? We are God’s family, involved in the family business. But just what does this family business entail? The Foundation of our CommissionThe basis of our commission is grounded in the task God entrusted (1) to all humanity through Adam, (2) to his blessed people through Abraham, and (3) to his rescued people through Moses. These foundational assignments in Genesis and Exodus provide the soil out of which grow the two “missional” prongs Scot discusses in chapter 7: social justice and creation care. We are privileged to be God’s specially equipped collaborators, working alongside him as (1) image-bearers, (2) blessing-sharers, and (3) holy intermediaries. Let’s take a look at these one at a time. Genesis 1: Image BearersWe have seen from our discussion of the first creation account how we are God’s adult children brought in as partners of the family business. We are to reflect the Father’s character, craftsmanship, and commitments. (Remember the illustrative watchmaker analogy from the ten Boon family? To refresh your synapses, link here.) So what’s the commission we inherited through Adam? Be an Eikonic community, so that people who are unaware of the God that sustains them can look at us and exclaim, “Oh, now I get it. That’s what God is like. Now I know what love is all about.” Genesis 12: Blessing SharersBetween the creation in Genesis 1 and 2 and the entrance of Abraham in Genesis 12, everything in the once-harmonious world was disrupted. Tragic. Shalom became corrupted by tohu va-bohu. On the heels of our primeval parents’ distrust of God’s goodness and their brash, foolish break of independence came a downward spiral of progressive estrangement and disharmony. Then, finally, in Abraham God finds a willing partner with whom he can team up to restore a measure of blessing in the midst of this cursed chaos. If Abraham hadn’t set out at God’s side into the unknown, the whole plan would have dissolved right there. God would have needed to find himself a more cooperative collaborator. But Abraham is included in the story because he did in fact pack up and set off at God’s urging.
The goal in this work of recovery, with his people’s help, is to reconnect the several relationships that had been disrupted from sin. (Those four-directional relations are reviewed here; and for a NT equation of this Genesis 12 blessing with “reconnection” and “restoration” see Peter’s sermon in Acts 3:19-26). God’s plan is to work at a grass roots level. First draw the family of Abraham back into the circle of blessing, and then, through them, disseminate blessing to “all nations” of the earth. This is an expansive and inclusive calling. This work has universal intentions from the get-go. By the way, God’s calling of Abraham for this world-wide mission is often encapsulated in the word “election.” From this passage alone, it’s evident that election is no exclusive affair, as though God chose Abraham to escape the world’s mess for some private spiritual retreat. Just the opposite. Election is an others-directed assignment. It’s a privileged responsibility. Abraham was chosen to expand the influence of healing and renewal beyond the borders of his own kin and clan. So what’s the commission we inherited through Abraham? Receive the blessed, restored reconnections God provides and then extend those to all the people-groups of the world. We are chosen to be God’s blessed blessing-sharers, his embraced embracers. Exodus 19: Holy IntermediariesThis passage follows the liberation (aka exodus) of the oppressed slaves from Egypt. At this point in the narrative, ancient Israel has amazingly escaped the pursuing Egyptian army, traveled through the rough Sinai desert, and landed at the foot of what appears to be a volcanically active mountain. Here they camp for a period of prolonged instruction from God (through Moses) of how to behave as God’s people in the world. The next chapter, in fact, Exodus 20, kicks off with the Decalogue, the ten commandments, followed by what is called the Torah, or the Law, also known as the Mosaic or Sinaitic covenant. (A covenant refers to a mutually binding collaboration.) Exodus 19 then functions like a hinge in the book of Exodus, in between the exodus narrative (chapters 1-18) and the giving of the law and covenant (chapters 20-24). This passage is key, for it defines the identity and vocation of this newly-liberated, newly-constituted people. If Israel were to ask, “Who are we? And what are we to do?” here is their answer—succinct and direct.
God starts by reminding the people of his mighty mercy and special affection for them. “I rescued you from Egypt’s cruel clutch and brought you to myself.” Notice, God said he brought them, not to Mt. Sinai, but to himself. This is a highly personal affair. God seeks a people for himself—a special treasure. Here is the heart of Project Restoration. Re-connect wayward people with God and with one another. Ethics: Necessary for Mission
Note also the “if” clause. The necessary link between redemption (meaning, deliverance from slavery) and mission is ethics—behavior that reflects God’s behavior. We, the rescued, can only serve effectively as God’s holy intermediaries if we gladly follow God and reciprocate his faithfulness (that is, “keep his covenant”). These elements of “salvation” are inextricably intertwined: grace, election, redemption, covenant, ethics, and mission. If you drop ethics, the mission evaporates, and the goal of grace, election, and redemption is brought to nothing. The redeemed must live in a God-reflecting fashion if they are serve as his agents in the world. The liberated must walk closely with God if they are to mirror his character, and they must share his character and commitments if they are to have their intended impact in the world. We gotta walk closely if we’re gonna work effectively to bring life and well-being to all of God’s creation.
God is Always Gracious
Have you ever heard that grace is only a NT concept? That the God of the OT is harsh and severe? Have you ever heard that God’s people in the OT had to measure up before they could “earn” God’s favor? That only with the coming of Jesus is the grace of God displayed? Well, that’s all nonsense. Passages like this one quickly disabuse us of those misconceptions. God’s dealings with humanity have always been infused with grace, with unmerited favor, from the days of the Garden, to the toils of Egypt, to the thunder at Mt. Sinai, and onwards to the work of the Christ and beyond. It’s always God who takes the initiative, who pursues the rebel, who makes a way for reconciliation. Grace is always the first word. Grace is always the last word. Grace is the foundation. Grace is everything.
A Global Mission
God reminds us here in front on Mt. Sinai that though he is channeling his restorative efforts through one nation his concern is not limited to this nation. He is interested in “all the peoples on earth.” “The earth belongs to me,” he says. God is Creator of everything that is. And his redemptive efforts seek to restore creation to its goodness, beauty, and harmony. Redemption is in service of creation. It is creation-affirming, not creation-denying. The earth belong to him. And he will see to its full recovery. God’s vision is comprehensive; it is set on global needs, both social (“all peoples”) and environmental (“earth”). This concern for all people everywhere echoes that blessing given to Abraham. In this way, the Mosaic covenant builds on and develops the essence of the Abrahamic covenant.
Mediating Priests
What is the role of this treasured people? We are to serve as God’s “kingdom of priests” to the world. Remember that priests stood in the middle between God and the rest of the people. Within the nation of Israel the priests were to teach God’s law to the rest of the people and they were to bring the people’s sacrifices to God. The priests then had a two-directional representational or mediatorial role between God and others. Just as the priests within Israel mediated between God and the rest of the nation, so too the whole nation was to have a similar role within the wider world. Ancient Israel was rescued in order to mediate like a priest between God and the other nations. “As the people of YHWH they would have the historical task of bringing the knowledge of God to the nations, and bringing the nations to the means of atonement with God.” Christopher Wright, The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2006), 331. [Atonement speaks of reconciling estranged parties so that they are “at-one” again, that is, “at-one-ment.”]
A Different Kind of Holiness
Another way of describing the role of ancient Israel, God’s priestly kingdom, is as God’s “holy nation” in service to other nations. Holiness, when used of God, speaks of his being separate from, yet strangely committed to, those he loves. In the archives of Isaiah, the characteristic self-description of God is “the Holy One of Israel.” Catch that? If “holy” only means “separate from,” then God would be “the Holy One from Israel,” not “the Holy One of Israel.” Listen to the words of OT scholar John Goldingay (who along with Chris Wright is one of my favorite guides through the OT world and text). In his helpful commentary on this wonderful book called Isaiah, Goldingay insightfully explains:
God’s people are called to resume Adam and Eve’s role as image-bearers of the divine. If God is holy, in this kind of way, in an engaged, compassionate way, then we should be holy like this as well. In the Bible, when people are described as holy is means they are separated from other people for God’s special use. But to what use does God put his “treasured possession”? Why, he wants to use us to be his mediating priests! This call to a God-reflecting, tender-hearted, risk-taking, reputation-threatening, people-serving holiness is a recurrent refrain in both portions of the Bible. God summons his beloved nation. “I am God who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Be holy because I am holy” (Leviticus 11:44). Peter repeats the injunction: “Don't lazily slip back into those old grooves of evil, doing just what you feel like doing. You didn’t know any better then; you do now. As obedient children, let yourselves be pulled into a way of life shaped by God’s life, a life energetic and blazing with holiness. God said, ‘I am holy; you be holy’” (1 Peter 1:14-15). Catch the expectation of family resemblance? The Father is holy, which here means “distinct from us and committed to our welfare.” His children are expected to manifest the same kind of holiness: “distinct from the world and committed to its welfare,” separate yet attached. Like Father, like daughter. We are to “pulled into a way of life shaped by God’s life.” Well put, Peter! (And thanks to Eugene Peterson for this rich translation we call The Message.) Just as our election is in the service of mission for others, so too is our God-like holiness. Unfortunately, our false selves, our former selves, our fallen selves, beholden to “those old grooves of evil,” as Peter describes, would prefer that election was all self-serving privilege and no others-minded responsibility, and that holiness was all “separation” and no “attachment.” It’s this corruption of the biblical (re)definition of holiness that derailed the mission of ancient Israel. Instead of looking out for others, they turned inward. Instead of disseminating blessing, they hoarded it. Jonah as Personification of Ancient Israel's Wrong Sort of Holiness
The sad and almost satirical example of Jonah provides a telling example of this. God calls Jonah to carry a message of warning to the despised and violent people of Assyria in hopes that they would repent of their ways, avert the coming judgment, and find grace and mercy from God. So averse to seeing God’s blessing leak out beyond the boundaries of Israel to Assyria, Jonah runs the other way. He flees God and abandons the commission. YHWH’s world-wide objective is frustrated. But only temporarily. Though God is not a coercive, arm-twisting micromanager, he is resourceful enough to finally work things out for good in the long run. As one writer states it: God is not in meticulous control, but he is still ultimately in charge. Because he is not in meticulous control, evil does its dirty work in the world. And we dare not lay the blame for that at God’s feet. (For more on this, see Boyd’s Is God to Blame? on our books page). But because God is still ultimately in charge, we can count on him to finally defeat evil and restore justice and peace to his planet. (For more on this approach to God’s will, see Howell’s forthcoming book, excerpt here)
With a little creative maneuvering, God finally “encourages” Jonah to get back on task. Even then, Jonah is reluctant. How strong is this gravity-like force of self-serving, clan-promoting holiness. Finally Jonah announces God’s warning to the Assyrians, and, voila, they repent. Exciting! Jonah, however, is crushed. “This change of plans [about Assyria] greatly upset Jonah, and he became very angry. So he complained to the Lord about it: ‘Didn’t I say before I left home that you would do this, Lord? That is why I ran away to Tarshish! I knew that you are a merciful and compassionate God, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. You are eager to turn back from destroying people’” (Jonah 4:1-2). What a beautiful portrait of the good God who seeks our welfare. He is a “a merciful and compassionate God, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. He is eager to turn back from destroying people.” That kind of God is worthy of our devotion. That kind of God is worthy of our emulation. Doesn’t Jonah’s resistance to YHWH’s love for the world provide us an accurate picture of ancient Israel? And, to be honest, here too is a picture of aspects of the church. Called to embody a compassionate holiness, we instead adopt a self-serving “holier-than-thou” approach, turning holiness on its head. Without the humility and grace that the Spirit brings, we can exchange our role as holy intermediaries for an exclusive, self-righteous holiness that shuns, excludes, denounces, exploits and subjugates. Understanding Jesus and His Opponents
With these two models of holiness in hand, one can understand much of the conflict between the way of Jesus and the way of those first-century Judean leaders who opposed him. Both Jesus and the Pharisees were passionately committed to holiness. But each constructed holiness out of radically different material. Jesus was all about being distinctive from the non-holy ones around him in order to bring them life, healing, joy, community, blessing. This is why you find him keeping company with all sorts of people that the self-righteous in Israel had written off. Jesus was distinctive like a physician is distinctive from her patients. She has been “set apart” by special training in order to help others, not to shut them out. In fact, when criticized by those with who thought of holiness in exclusive, judgmental terms, Jesus explained that as Israel’s physician he was called to serve “the sick.” But this explanation was lost on his opponents. For them, holiness required separation from those they deemed non-holy. To interact with these outcasts meant getting contaminated; close engagement would defile their presumed cleanliness. Given their conception of holiness-as-exclusive-separation, they couldn’t help but see Jesus as unholy, unclean, contaminated. But Jesus was moved by a different understanding of holiness. For him it meant getting involved, getting dirty, rubbing shoulders with those in need. So what did it mean to be holy as God is holy in first-century Israel? It would depend on who you asked. To see how these different models of holiness informed Jesus’ teaching, check out the parable of the prodigal father in Luke 15. The father's behavior depicts the Jesus way of being holy. The older brother illustrates the wrong way of being holy.
But how we express holiness, either with compassion or with judgmentalism, reflects to the world what we think of God. If our God is broken-hearted over sin and is eager to reconcile, willing to identify with and suffer for others, then we’ll reflect his kindness and his mercy. We’ll seek to include the excluded. However, if our God is thought to wear a perpetual scowl as he wags his angry finger at hell-deserving sinners, then we will follow his lead. We’ll stand apart from those we deem “unholy” and sit in judgment over them. Like many of the Pharisees we will be quicker to condemn than to serve. Or like the community at Qumran, we will just leave the “damned” to suffer their own deserved fate while we cloister ourselves away, secure, safe, and secluded. One way of discovering what kind of portrait of God we hold in our heart is to evaluate how we treat difficult, or disadvantaged, people. Wasn’t it Jesus who observed that you can tell a tree by its fruit? The Threat of Tribalism
We’ve already seen how modernity’s individualism runs counter to this spirit of the gospel, which gracious welcomes all into God’s community, a community that is about the business of God’s commission. Another obstacle that the gospel seeks to overturn is what we called “tribalism.” The Pharisees mentioned above provide a good illustration. Tribalism has a strong sense of community. But the community encases itself in impenetrable walls in order to keep others out. Why? Because we, the tribe, our kin, our clan, our class, our kingdom, is better than yours. And we’re not gonna forfeit any of our privilege for your sake. We're not gonna share. In fact, we might even try to take what you have from you if that might benefit us. When infected with tribalism, we become, at best, indifferent of other groups, at worst, antagonist of other groups. Isn’t this a major contributor to feuding factions and warring tribes? Look at the tragic stories of violent conflict in Bosnia, Rwanda, Sudan, and Kenya, for some recent examples. Denominational battles may not be much different.
Tribalism infected the people of God not only in the OT, but also in NT times. The gospel of reconciliation set out to unite the warring tribes of Jew and Gentile into one family. See Paul’s explanation in Ephesians 2:11-22. This is why Jesus is called “our Peace” because he makes peace amongst the tribes. The Prince of Peace seeks to overcome all differences that divide people into opposing groups, be they differences of gender, of education, of ethnicity, or social status. “In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:26-29). That God can overcome these tribal instincts demonstrates that his might is as awesome as his mercy. Paul knew tribalism was a threat to the unity of the church, a unity that was supposed to cross and conquer social divides.
Paul learned this from his Master. Listen to Jesus’ prayer the night before his betrayal:
One Community with One Commission Just in case we are tempted to think of this call to God’s people in Exodus 19 as something restricted only to ancient Israel, let’s close with a passage in 1 Peter. This will make it clear that God has one community, starting with Abraham, growing into ancient Israel, and reaching forward in time to include the people of God in the NT and beyond. That one community, united across the generations, has the same commission.
The basis of our commission is grounded in the task God entrusted (1) to all humanity through Adam, (2) to his blessed people through Abraham, and (3) to his rescued people through Moses. The first two books of the Bible teach us that we are privileged to be God’s specially equipped collaborators, working alongside him as (1) image-bearers, (2) blessing-sharers, and (3) holy intermediaries. Next session, we’ll look at two particular prongs of this mission: social justice and creation care.
For more on "missional" in Scot's Embracing Grace, see Joining God's Dance of Embrace
For more on the biblical trajectory of mission emerging from the OT, see excerpts from Richard Bauckham, Bible and Mission: Christian Witness in a Postmodern World (Carlisle: Paternoster Press; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2003). |