By Zane Witcher, university minister at the Highland Church of Christ in Abilene Texas.

A couple of months ago, I exited out of a season many of you are familiar with.  It was the closing of one chapter and the opening of the next.  To walk out of the doors of higher education and to the world of working full time for the local church.  It’s always interesting when you walk across that stage though, because at the same time, you watch all your other friends walk off in different directions to tackle the world as they see it.  As I sat in a room full of uncomfortable hats and professors who look like they belong at Hogwarts, I thought to myself, “it’s crazy how in just a couple of years my friends’ faith have changed.”

They truly did walk in many directions.  Many of my friends who at one time followed Jesus, won’t even step foot in a place where God’s people meet anymore.  A plethora of my friends spend more time on Facebook and Twitter conversations about God, rather than partnering with God on the regular.  Others though, seem to have wandered into the Kingdom of God in surprising and glorious ways.  Then there are those who I have no idea where they are going to go.  It just seems like they are going to go wander off into the depths of the world.  Then there I am standing over in the corner, continuing in a ministry of serving the local church, which is an adventure in itself.  It seems like we are all wandering.  Maybe we are.

I mostly serve younger adults and university students at the local church.  From time to time I will have parents, mentors, and professors come to me alerting me of the latest believer who seems to be “wandering.”  Most of the time I hear this phrase, it is in the context of “wandering away from the faith.” The more time I spend with God’s people though, it seems like we are all wandering.  Every time I preach, I feel like a stare out into a crowd full of faces who are wandering in all sorts of ways.  Some just wandered in for the coffee.  Some wandered merely out of habit.  And some wandered in simply because they have no other place to go.  It feels like we are all wandering….

A couple of weeks ago I picked up A.J. Swoboda’s new book The Dusty Ones, and couldn’t put it down.  The title seems like a long commentary on Exodus, but it’s much more.  Swoboda’s has a great ability to connect Scripture to today’s world.  He is also quick to remind us of something we tend to forget: Scripture is written for wanderers by wanderers.  The gospel is a story of wandering, because the God of the universe knows a thing or two about wandering….

The God of The Fitbit

Have you ever noticed some of life’s best thoughts and ideas are discovered on long walks?  No wonder the people of God ventured across creation to know their Creator.  Swoboda’s consistent reminder is the God of the exodus is known for wandering with his people.  This doesn’t stop when you get to Jesus.  You only have to read a couple of chapters in the gospels to know Jesus is a walker.

If Jesus could have had a Fitbit, he would have always blown past the amount of “work week hustle” steps he needed.

Jesus walked with crowds.  Jesus walked with tax collectors.  Jesus’ ministry even begins wandering into the desert.  This was crucial, because when you enter the desert you no longer just know about God, you must learn to depend on Him.

“Salvation,” says Swoboda, “takes place in the wilderness.”  It is in dry places.  Places of the unknown and scarce resources is where the believer finds out what their heart truly loves.  It is also the place where people tend to find what they truly need.  Without walking through a desert or two, we don’t realize how to appreciate dwelling in the garden.  This may be why the Scripture starts with a story of the garden, and ends with a picture of a garden.  It takes time for God’s people to discover it’s beauty.

We Are Free To Move About The Desert

Swoboda takes time to talk about the word many of my university students tend to use in describing what direction of life they want to take.  Freedom.  They are hungry for it.  Which is interesting because as Swoboda points out, God is all about freedom for his people.  But a lot of times the freedom we seek leads to our destruction.  When God delivers his people from Egypt, and they have freedom, it doesn’t take long for them to make a mess of things.  The cost of freedom is the potential for disobedience.  This is an understanding every believer develops eventually. Freedom, true freedom, is a process of walking with God.  As Swoboda puts it,

“Freedom is not merely something you receive. It is something that must be lived into.  Freedom is established in a heartbeat, but lived out and entered into over the course of a lifetime.”

This is beautiful news.  But it takes a lot of walking with God and others to figure it out.  The Dusty Ones reminds us there’s a difference between wandering with God and wandering away from God.

“I can’t stand to go to church anymore” is a regular conversation I have with college-aged students. Mostly this comes from students raised in church, but are struggling to make the faith their own. Often it’s from sincere doubts and wrestling with hard questions. But often it’s not. In my experience, sometimes the reason we can wander toward bitterness toward God and God’s people is because of sin that we have kept secret, sometimes even from ourselves.

In the name of freedom we trap ourselves with vice and lies.

Sometimes prodigal children walk out the door without realizing the greatest inheritance is being able to dwell with their Father.  This is one of the biggest indicators of wandering away from God in Swoboda’s book.  When we sin, our first tendency isn’t to sin in bigger ways.  Our first response is we pull away from the local faith community and the people who love us the most and speak words of truth in our lives.

Although this is disheartening, I think Dallas Willard’s response is the best in finding peace when this happens in our faith communities.  He says,

“We need to tell our younger people ‘Follow Jesus, and if you can find a better way than him, he would be the first to tell you to take it.’”

The first time I heard this, it was shocking, but the more I reflect on it, this is what wandering is all about.  God at his core is good, which means we can trust that through the process of wandering. Wanders will realize living the ways of Jesus truly is the best way to live.  Without wandering and discovering this through dry seasons, believers won’t really believe what they say they believe!

Walking To The Garden

Wandering involves wanderers to explore the tension of being a creation of God.  As Swoboda explains, creation has a tension between creativity and boundary.  On the one hand, God creates space for us to be creative.  I mean Adam got to name an animal the platypus! One the other hand, we must remember we are invited to be creative within God’s boundaries.  We’re talking about the same God who told the sea where to stop and the land where to start.  He is also the God who says, “you can eat from every tree except…” This was a discovery process for Adam and Eve, and it is for us today.  It is only when we learn, understand, and walk in this tension, that we experience a flourishing life with God.

Swoboda’s title may lead you to believe it’s all about dry and humid conditions of faith, but he takes time to mention one important detail of hope found in the book of Jeremiah.  While God’s people, who he wanders with, are in exile, he gives them a bizarre command.  He tells them to plant gardens in the place they live, even though they are nowhere near home (Jeremiah 29:5).  This is not because God is a huge fan of Better Homes and Gardens, but because he is a God who plans on staying.  He dwells where his people are wandering at the time.  Patience is the attitude of God towards the wanderer. God knows it takes time to accomplish in our lives what he wanted in the beginning when humanity was in the garden of Eden.  God isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and work on our hearts until we can plant deep roots of trust and intimacy with him.

A.J. Swoboda knows what it means to walk with people who are wandering because he is wandering himself.  This book won’t collect dust if you’re in this season of life, or learning how to walk with others during their wandering of dry seasons in their faith.

It is by the grace of God that God does his best work in our wandering.  It forms us.  It shapes us. And it helps us realize where we truly belong.

And there is no greater joy than knowing no matter how far we wander, God could care less how many steps it takes to be reunited with him!

By Allan Bevere, professor of New Testament at Ashland Theological Seminary and a UMC pastor.

By Dave Moore

Medieval Wisdom for Modern Christians!

Chris Armstrong is a historian who serves as the founding director of Opus: The Art of Work, an institute on faith and vocation at Wheaton College.

The following interview centers around Armstrong’s terrific new book, Medieval Wisdom for Modern Christians: Finding Authentic Faith in a Forgotten Age with C.S. Lewis.

David George Moore conducted the interview. Dave’s videos can be found at www.mooreengaging.com.

Moore: Many will be surprised to see medieval and modern juxtaposed in such a favorable way. Shouldn’t we Protestants move past the superstitions of the Middle Ages?

Armstrong: Well, I just disagree with the premise. So let me answer this way: The superstitions we need to move past are our own modern ones. I take “superstition” to refer to any kind of magical thinking that makes connections between causes and effects where there is in fact no demonstrable connection. Just one example will have to do here: many still believe, against overwhelming evidence, that rational ideologies will work better than traditional arrangements in the realm of statecraft.

What else can we call this but superstition or magical thinking, when this principle of rational ideology has resulted in 20 million killed in WWI, 65-80 million killed in WWII—including upwards of a quarter of a million annihilated by the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki—plus possibly as many as 85M – 100M killed under the Communists’ attempt to rationalize national life? This is just an extreme example of the case made by James Davison Hunter, that the belief that all our public problems will be solved when the right ideas are accepted and acted upon through political process is not Christian and it is not even truly rational—however much we (modern American Christians) want it to be. This, too, is an instance of magical thinking or “superstition.” It is a belief that does not comport with reality.

Now, were there abominable crusades, inquisitions, and thumbscrews in the Middle Ages—an era which believed that our ultimate answers are to be found not in rationalist political ideologies but in the revelations of an invisible God who came to earth as a human and lived and then died and then lived again? Certainly. Did those sinful errors of a society attempting to “live unto God” cause devastation on anything like the scale of modern superstitions such as those named above? No – not even close. And at the same time, the Middle Ages birthed the hospital and all its associated modes of medical charity; the university and its institutionalized pursuit not only of knowledge but of wisdom for living; the framework of what would become the scientific revolution (by individual believers studying to “think God’s thoughts after him”), and so much more that has blessed us even up to this minute.

Nobody’s hands are clean here, but when “superstition” caused more devastation in the hundred years between 1900 and 2000 AD than in the thousand years between 500 and 1500 AD, then perhaps it’s time to go back and study the light of wisdom enjoyed in that supposed “Dark Age.” I would even put it this way: the only reason we haven’t complete destroyed ourselves as a species is that we’re still living on the fumes of medieval wisdom.

Moore: Your book is permeated with the works and insights of C.S. Lewis. When did Lewis become such a formative figure for you? Would you mention a few of the ways his writings have been most influential?

Armstrong: I’ve known Lewis’s fictional works since I was small – my theologian father read them out loud at the table to me and my younger brothers, along with Tolkien, George MacDonald, and many others. His Perelandra deeply impacted my imagination as a young man, and when I became a Christian in my twenties, his Screwtape Letters balanced some of the wilder theories about demons in my charismatic church with the deeper and more insidious workings of our Enemy (his insight that the devil works as much by keeping things out of our minds as by putting things in by whispering in our ears is an important one).

But it was pulling the thread of his medieval understandings that led me into the depths of Lewis’s more explicitly theological and spiritual writings. I’ve found spiritual works such as Letters to Malcolm, Reflections on the Psalms, and A Grief Observed – along with his letters of spiritual advice – to be nourishing for my own spiritual life.

And I’ve come to the conclusion that the primary reason we find Lewis so illuminating for our faith and life today is not that he is a theological genius or a literary master (I actually don’t think either of these thing is true). It is that he made himself a channel of traditional Christian wisdom – a kind of living repository and transmitter of the tradition.

Moore: We Evangelicals seem to think spirituality mostly means non-material. What kinds of things can we learn from the medieval age about the tactile nature of Christian growth?

Armstrong: There are two ways modern Christians tend to approach living in our bodily, material reality. One might call these the super-spiritual and the materialist ways. They are in some senses opposite, but we fall for both of them. The super-spiritual way is to see spiritual things as higher and better and more important than material things, and therefore to find all our life’s value in what we see as the spiritual realm. In this mode, we understand Sunday worship to be a holy time, where we connect with God in all his truth, beauty, and goodness. But the ordinary, Monday-through-Saturday world in which we live as parents and workers and neighbors—we can find very little meaning or value there.

The materialist way is the way in which we live largely for material pleasures and material accumulation. We may not seriously believe that “he who dies with the most toys wins.” But we are quite capable of working long hours to ensure that our families have all the comforts of middle-class life, while falling into subtle idolatry of our suburban lifestyles, and our regular vacations, and good schools and future good salaries for our kids. Oddly enough, this materialism devalues the material world just as much as the gnostic approach. Because, as Augustine taught (and he was the premier theologian for the entire medieval period), when we treat material goods as ends in themselves, we disconnect them from their true value and meaning in God.

The medieval way stands against both of these: Its sacramental approach to the material world understands both that material stuff is not evil and meaningless, and that it is not our ultimate end and fulfilment. Instead, the material has the glorious function of pointing us to the spiritual – to God. God meets us in nature, community, work, art, science. So to live authentically as Christians, we must live in our bodies and our worlds gratefully and with wonder and openness to God working in the midst of it all. This is sacramentalism. And on this point, as on so many others, we may find real help in medieval faith.

Moore: Notre Dame historian Brad Gregory lays much blame at the feet of the Protestant Reformers for things today like our rabid individualism. To what extent, if any, would you agree with him?

Armstrong: I don’t go all the way with this argument, but I will say this: I don’t see how we can avoid the conclusion that the Protestant suspicion of tradition inserted a theological and ecclesiastical crowbar between revelation and community. And that led straight to the radical Enlightenment’s insistence that if we want to know who we are, who God is, and how we can live well in God, our only reliable guides are our own individual reason and experience. If that is really true, then we must believe only what our individual reason and experience teach us, and never the wisdom of our own community, or the wisdom handed down through past communities (which is what the word “tradition” means).

What modern, Enlightenment-influenced Christians don’t fully grasp is that if they really believe that, they must now dismiss not only such “medieval” doctrines as the Trinity, transubstantiation, and the atonement of the God-man for our sins, but also the entire canon of Scripture. For that canon was both formed and passed down in and through human community—as led (the church has always believed) by the Holy Spirit who Jesus promised would come after he left, to “guide us into all the truth.” The ball of individualism did indeed start rolling in the Reformation, and now it’s crushing all in its wake. We’ve even reached the point where evangelical seminaries figure they can do without a full-time faculty member in church history to help future ministers connect their people to the Christian past! (No, no personal bitterness or bias here!) And conservative evangelical radio personalities seriously argue that if you read church history or study the tradition, you are endangering your salvation (seriously, I’ve heard it).

Moore: You helpfully correct several misunderstandings Christians have today. One in particular for us Protestant Evangelicals is the important role of the Church’s tradition. Unpack that a bit for us.

Armstrong: I think I’ve just started to answer that, but I’ll add this:

In the book I treat this whole question of evangelical anti-traditionalism with more nuance than I can do here – but I sum up my argument in the term “immediatism.” By “immediatism,” I mean that evangelicals have long believed that the only thing that really matters to us as Christians, in the end, is that each of us can go directly, individually, to the throne of God. Because the ultimate arbiter and authority in our religion is the reasoning of our own individual minds and the experiencing of our own individual hearts, we believe we don’t need time-honored liturgies, doctrinal statements, or church polities or disciplines. We believe we don’t need to read past theologians to interpret and understand the truths God communicates to us in Scripture.

If we had time, we could talk about how unlike the church of the first 1800 or so years – really, including the earliest Protestant churches too – this modern “immediatism” is. But let me cut to the chase: if we are to live well as humans in relationship with God and each other, then we simply do need communal wisdom, both modern and traditional. For we are irreducibly social creatures whom God meets in an irreducibly social way.

From infancy, we are helpless without the love and nurture of others. A human child cannot survive as recognizably human without community (viz: feral children and the Tarzan story). And when God (who is himself a Trinity – a community) wanted to show himself to us, he did not do so through a mere communication of rules and principles to be understood and practiced through individual reason applied by individual will, nor through a mere mysticism to be experienced in the cloister of our hearts and savored in private. He did so through a relationship with generation upon generation of people-in-community – first, as the invisible God in special covenant relationship with the community of the ancient Israelites, and then as the visible God who became Immanuel, the Incarnate, embodied One—living and healing and teaching among the community of first-century Judea, sharing every inch of their humanity.

Thus the kind of individualistic religion we practice in the evangelical movement is inconsistent with the very nature of revelation – the kind of communal God-experience and God-understanding that the Old and New Testaments describe, and the ways that that communal God-experience has been handed down and studied and lived ever since. We are communal beings, and therefore God does business with us through community – and when the community transmits that God-experience and God-understanding from generation to generation, we call that “tradition.”

Moore: What are three things you hope your readers take from your book?

Armstrong: Alright, I’ve been going on too long in answering your other questions, so I’ll be brief here:

1. There is such a thing as medieval wisdom.
2. We need to reconnect ourselves to it.
3. S. Lewis is a very good model and guide for how to do that.

There, how’s that?

One of my favorite writers of recent years, J. Richard Middleton, has joined BioLogos as a one of three 2016 Theology Fellows. As a fellow he will contribute six posts over the year on issues relating to the theology of creation. The first of these, Why Christians Don’t Need to be Threatened by Evolution, was posted today. Regular readers here will recall our long series of posts on Middleton’s books The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1  and A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology.  Richard Middleton is Professor of Biblical Worldview and Exegesis at Northeastern Seminary (Rochester, NY) and has focused on the Old Testament. He isn’t a scientist and won’t argue evidence for or against evolution. Rather he will wrestle with theological questions that are raised by an old earth, evolution, and the antiquity of humankind.  In his initial post he lays out some of the assumptions that will guide his future posts.

Middleton starts were all Christian thinking about creation and humankind should start, with Scripture. (You can read the full post at BioLogos.)

To start with, I take Scripture as providing the normative framework for the worldview of the church, with guidance for how to live in God’s world. The overarching biblical story of creation and redemption constitutes the non-negotiable framework for Christian discipleship; and serious immersion in Scripture—through gathered worship, communal study, and private meditation—is indispensable to the life of faith.

One part of Christian discipleship, or the life of faith, is how we think about the discoveries of modern science. How might the Bible guide us in that project?

The Bible is our central source as we develop an understanding of creation and humanity. It has to be taken seriously from beginning to end. But this isn’t a once and done project. The important questions of Christian faith have engaged the human imagination from the beginning of the church. Each new generation, and to an extent each individual Christian, must wrestle with these ideas again. This is how we learn and grow.  Communal study is an important component of this. I look forward to Richard’s future posts.

One of the strengths of Middleton’s approach is the focus on scripture in its ancient context. His book The Liberating Image is a fascinating study of the image of God. Many of the toughest issues raised in the church about evolution deal with human uniqueness. Are humans nothing more than animals? Simply self-aware arrogant apes? Do humans really have any ground to claim uniqueness and position? (Image Credit)

I will conclude the post today with a summary of Middleton’s conclusions concerning the imago Dei drawn from my earlier posts on the book. In The Liberating Image Middleton argues for a new interpretive framework for Genesis 1. God is portrayed as both artisan and ruler. He brought “into being a wisely crafted world through the exercise of royal power.” The world he created is not characterized by the imposition of a transcendent will or by a cosmic battle. It is also important to realize that the world was not created solely to serve mankind. Genesis 1 serves as a prologue that describes God’s good plan for his creation. The argument is fleshed out roughly as follows.

The Rhetorical Structure of Genesis 1. Although there are patterns in the creation story, these patterns are not rigid rhetorical structures from which we can draw deep truths concerning the nature of God’s rule and thus human rule as the imago Dei. It isn’t a set of propositions and should not be interpreted as such. This is a literary work with a degree of looseness and creativity. Genesis 1 depicts a creation where God intentionally shares power with his creation. The greater and lesser lights are not divine beings, but they are charged to rule the day and the night. The earth and the waters bring forth life.

On days 3, 5, and 6 (in 1:11-12, 20, 24), God invites the earth (twice) and the waters (once) to participate in creation by bringing forth living creatures. Whereas the earth is invited to produce first vegetation (1:11) and later land animals (1:24), the waters are invited to teem with water creatures (1:20). They are invited, in other words, to exercise their God-given fertility and thus to imitate God’s own creative actions in filling the world with living things. (p. 288)

Plants and animals are blessed with fertility to reproduce and fill the earth.

While these dimensions of the Genesis 1 creation story are not often noticed, attention to these rhetorical features points us to a God who does no hoard divine creative power, with some desperate need for control, but rather to a God who is generous with power, sharing it with creatures, that they might make their own contribution to the harmony and beauty of the world. (p. 289)

Beyond this humans are created in the image and likeness of God. They are commissioned to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the earth and subdue it, to rule over the creatures of the sea, sky, and land. Middleton points out, however, that humans do nothing in Genesis 1 except receive a blessing and commission. For the rest of the story we turn to Genesis 2-3.

The Seventh Day. Middleton does not see Genesis 2 as an alternative creation story – one that contradicts or balances Genesis 1. Nor does he see Genesis 2 as an elaboration of Day 6. Rather he sees it, much like John Walton, as a continuation of the story. Genesis 1 is “a prelude to the rest of the Genesis narrative setting up the normative conditions for what follows.” (p. 291) There are two literary clues that point to this structure.

First, on the seventh day, following six days of creating, God rests. But in the structure of the narrative the seventh day has no end – the events of Genesis 2-3, and the rest of Genesis, and the Bible take place on the seventh day. God remains involved in his creation, and in relationship with his creatures, but God “rests” in 2:2 and continues to rest because the post creation rule has been delegated to the creation, and especially to humans.

Second, There is a tôlĕdôt structure outlining the generations in Genesis beginning with 2:4 “These are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created” (RSV, KJV, ESV …). This formula is found throughout Genesis dividing the book into 11 sections. In Genesis 2:4a the formula introduces the generations that follow from creation: human history beginning with Adam. But Genesis 1-2:3 precedes this tôlĕdôt structure. Middleton suggests that this means that Genesis 1 is a prologue to what follows.

The Trouble Begins. And in what follows the trouble begins … well not until Genesis 3. In Genesis 2 the man names the animals, is given a companion, marriage is instituted as a bond between a man and a woman, and the couple is placed in the sacred space of the Garden. The relationship between the man and the woman is not hierarchical but complementary. But it is downhill from there.

In Genesis 3, the primeval human pair rebel against God, and then the man begins to rule the woman (a rule that is not reciprocated) and names here Eve (thus treating her as he did the animals). In Genesis 4, Cain impulsively murders his brother Abel out of resentment, while he-man Lamech boasts to his two wives (the first reference to polygamy in the Bible) that he has in vengeance killed a youth for daring to injure him. And this violent propensity spirals out of control until in Genesis 6 humans fill the earth with their violence or bloodshed (hāmās), and the earth, which God created good, becomes corrupt and God is “grieved” (ˁāş ab) that he ever raised such an ungrateful brood of children (6:5-6). (p. 295-296)

The Liberating Image. Middleton’s view of the imago Dei in Genesis 1, emphasizes the function for which humans are set apart. The imago Dei is not a collection of special features of humanity – but a democratized commission. The term behind image (selem) refers most often to “a localized, visible, corporeal representation of the divine.”

When the clues within the Genesis text are taken together with comparative studies of the ancient Near East, they lead to what we could call a functional – or even missional – interpretation of the image of God in Genesis 1:26-27 … On this reading, the imago Dei designates the royal office or calling of human beings as God’s representatives and agents in the world, granted authorizing power to share in God’s rule or administration of the earth’s resources and creatures. (p. 27)

The function of humankind is to image the invisible God is his creation.

Genesis 1 as the opening chapter in the Bible separates human violence and domination from the nature of creation itself. When humans, created in the image and likeness of God, are told to rule over creation it isn’t a rule of power and domination but a rule characterized by creative love. Genesis 1:26-28 was a revolutionary text in the ancient Near East, democratizing the image of God from a singular king to all of human kind. Genesis 1 as a whole was also revolutionary because it shatters expectations of power, domination and conquest and instead “depicts God as a generous creator, sharing power with a variety of creatures (especially humanity) inviting them (and trusting them – at some risk) to participate in the creative (and historical) process.” (p. 296-297) God is a God of Love, for God is Love.

In the end, the liberating character of the imago Dei is grounded in the nature of God, who calls the world into being as an act of generosity. This means that we cannot artificially separate our vision of God’s redemptive love from an understanding of God’s creative power. In both creation and redemption, “God so loved the world that he gave …” (p. 297)

Evolution is no threat to the imago Dei because this isn’t defined by natural features. It may be important that we possess creativity and empathy, the ability to speak and reason and learn, a capacity for altruism as this enables us to fulfill our calling as the imago Dei. It is not important that other animals possess or lack elements of these same traits. Nor is it important how these traits developed in humanity – through evolution or special creation.

All in all a very interesting and thought provoking book. I highly recommend it. I anticipate an equally challenging and thought-provoking experience from Middleton’s upcoming posts at BioLogos.

What is our purpose and mission as the image of God in the world?

Is evolution a threat to the Christian understanding of what it means to be human?

If you wish to contact me directly you may do so at rjs4mail [at] att.net.

If interested you can subscribe to a full text feed of my posts at Musings on Science and Theology.

By Danielle Lair, Associate Director of Children’s Ministries at Alamo Heights United Methodist Church. You can check out her blog at: https://childspraise.com.

“We journey as co-pilgrims with children, side-by-side teaching, enriching, inviting, and inspiring all who have been called to participate. The kingdom pilgrimage is an amazing journey that is simply incomplete without the beauty and wonder of children.”

~Steven Bonner, Along the Way

For a time I found myself teaching 4^th & 5^th grade boys on Wednesday nights. I loved them and our time together, but God bless them they were crazy! There were days I went home and thought, “I have no idea what I just taught or if they heard anything about God.” During the middle of one such chaotic night, one of my sweet, inner-city boys, who never-ever stopped talking, asked me in the middle of our lesson if we could do that “quiet prayer where we scatter and listen for God’s voice in silence.” Yes, sweet boy. Yes, we can.

If you’ve spent much time around children you expect the unexpected. We’ve taught those children we didn’t think were listening. And then the day comes when they blow our minds with the way their hearts are attuned to God & their deep desire to spend time with Him.

Children’s spiritual formation is a beautiful crazy mess.

Here’s what I’ve learned to be true during my time in Children’s Ministry:

The logistics of running a Children’s Ministry of any size makes it very easy for Sunday’s to become a glorified version of babysitting. It’s not because we’re lazy. It’s because it’s really hard. But there has to be a better way because these short years matter deeply, even among the craziness. And despite the crazy mess. Researchers are just beginning to understand the depths of spiritual formation that happens in childhood and the long-term implications. Let’s explore why it’s so important.

Children matter to God.
Children are complete human beings made in the image of God. Scripture overflows with evidence of how important children are to God: Deut. 4:9-10; 6:1-3, 7, 20-21; 7:13; 31:12-13; Exod. 12:26; Psalm 8:2; 78:4-7; 34:11; Prov. 22:6; 3:11-12; Matt. 21:15-16; 18:1-6; 19:13-14; Mark 10:13-16.

Children are disciples.
By age 9, most children have their spiritual anchors in place. Generally, there is little difference between the beliefs a child holds at this time & the beliefs they will carry with them as an adult. In other words, the spiritual health of adults is largely dependant on the relationship they create with God as a child.

Children’s praise & prayers are powerful.

Psalm 8:2 says, “Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.” (NIV, emphasis added) The words of praise our children and infants speak are powerful in ways we can’t even begin to comprehend. Through their candid observations, wonderings & questions they are fighting battles against Satan – against pride and secrecy, political-correctness and lies. They fight battles for thanksgiving and joy, honesty and transparency, justice and mercy.

And Satan cannot stand against them.

Children are examples of how to enter the Kingdom of God. If the praise of children & infants is really fighting battles again Satan, it’s no wonder Jesus told us we wouldn’t enter the Kingdom of God unless we become like little children. (Matthew 18:2-4)

Children matter to the local church.

If all of the above is true we shouldn’t isolate our children on a regular basis to their own classrooms to never be seen or heard from until “adult” church is over. Our children should be a visible part of our churches. They need spiritual mothers & fathers & big brothers & sisters who will pour into them, mentor them & help raise them to be adults who live radical faith. They need opportunities to serve in worship & in their community.

Let’s teach children spiritual disciplines.

I’m not sure when or why the phrase “spiritual disciplines” became so scary to some. Or maybe it’s just when I use the phrase in the same sentence as “Let’s do this with children!” that people look at me like I just said my husband is pregnant with twins. But here’s what I tell my volunteers who panic at the thought of asking children to be quiet and still: I know I’m crazy, but just trust God. I promise you’ll be blown away by what He is going to do with your kids.

Brenda was one of those volunteers that had been serving in Children’s Ministry for longer than I’d been alive. Her dedication, commitment & love for our children are inspiring. Then along came this young Children’s Minister who encouraged her to begin practicing spiritual disciplines with her kids. We had many conversations in my office, in the hallway and over the phone about the “impossible” things I was asking of her. She thought I was crazy, and I would just smile at her and say, “I know, but let’s just try it and see what God does.” It wasn’t long before Brenda became one of my biggest advocates to other volunteers who also thought I had lost my mind. She witnessed what God will do in children’s hearts, and she became a spokesperson for practicing spiritual disciplines with children of all ages.

Consider the theory of multiple intelligences for a minute, which suggests that everyone learns in unique ways. The 8 intelligences are linguistic, logic-mathematical, spatial, bodily-kinesthetic, musical, interpersonal, intrapersonal & naturalist. God created us all with one or two dominant intelligences.

Now, consider the spiritual disciplines. Every different spiritual discipline is designed to connect each different intelligence-styled person to God. When we teach kids how to practice spiritual disciplines we are helping them find a way to connect with God through a style God created them to learn through.

Let’s teach the spatial intelligence child about Praying in Color.

Let’s teach the naturalist intelligence child how to walk a labyrinth.

Let’s show the bodily-kinesthetic intelligence child how to pray with their whole body.

Let’s give the musical intelligence child space to write a song of praise.

When we give kids the space to encounter God in ways He created them we are honoring Him and His creation. We are helping them discover & develop a deep & rich relationship with God. A relationship that will often last through the challenges and the ambiguities of life. We are honoring the way God created children and giving them lifelong practical tools.

The Holy Spirit is alive & active in the lives of our children.

Children do not have a Jr. Holy Spirit. The full authority, power & maturity of the Holy Spirit is working in our kids’ hearts. They are capable of interacting with and learning & hearing what the Holy Spirit has to say to them. The best thing we can do is to create the space for them to do that and then shut up and get out of the way. It’s as mysterious a process in kids’ lives as it is in the lives of adults, but it happens nonetheless. The question is will we trust God enough to get out of His way so He can do His thing?

Will we trust the work of the Holy Spirit in our kids’ lives even when it means we don’t control every minute of our time together?

Will we let these precious children teach us a thing or two about God & faith?

Because children’s spiritual formation is a beautiful crazy mess.

Danielle Lair is the Children’s Minister at the Sycamore View Church of Christ

There are a number of realities that bump into God’s providence, or God’s superintending guidance of the world. What does it mean for God to love us? Is this a one-way gushing flow of God’s love to us without impact on God? Is one-way love genuine love (as we know it)? Or does love — for it to be love — require interactive responsiveness to be love?

Why pray? Is prayer interactive with God or is prayer simply the conforming of our will to what God will do anyway? If so, does God “answer” prayers or is that only our way of speaking?

Thomas Jay Oord, in his new book The Uncontrolling Love of God: An Open and Relational Account of Providence, sketches six, yea seven, models of providence and I want to sketch them today and in our next post on Tom’s book we will look at his “open and relational” view of providence. (From pp. 83-105.)

1. God is the Omnicause.

The basic idea of this model is that God causes all things. What appear to be random events or the activities of free will are m accordance with God’s will, such that God ultimately makes them happen, as they happen. God is in complete control.

B. B. Warfield, puts it succinctly, “There is nothing that is, and nothing that comes to pass, that [God] has not first decreed and then brought to pass by His creation or providence.”

Advocates of the omnicause model have a particular view of divine power in mind. They often use the word sovereignty when describing it, and they typically mean that God exerts control. Advocates find comfort in this model because it reassures them that whatever occurs—no matter how bad—is part of God s meticulous plan.

To critics, this model appears to imply that God promotes sin and evil.

2. God empowers and overpowers.

Although I have no survey data to support this claim, I would guess this providence model is most common among “average” believers. It says God creates and sustains all creation. God empowers humans by giving them free will, at least sometimes. But God also sometimes overpowers human free will or interrupts the causal regularities of existence. Gods will is sometimes permissive and sometimes controlling.

Although this model may allow its advocates to say God is not the source of evil, its view of divine power makes God responsible for failing to prevent genuine evil It is hard to believe God loves perfectly if God is capable of total control but fails to prevent genuine evil. God remains culpable.

3. God is voluntarily self-limited.

This model starts with the premise that God essentially has the kind of power to create something from nothing (creatio ex nihilo) and control others entirely. Despite having the capacity to be all-controlling, however, God made a voluntary decision to give at least some creatures freedom. When doing so, God voluntarily gave up total control. God made this decision when initially creating, and God (usually) stands by it. Most advocates of this model say love is God’s motive for not creating humans as robots, allowing randomness and not controlling the created order entirely.

Philip Clayton’s version of this model is especially noteworthy because he rejects any divine control in the ongoing history of the universe. Clayton’s proposal might be named the not-even-once version of voluntary self-limitation. After God created the universe from nothing, Clayton says, God voluntarily decided not to control creatures or situations—ever!

My main problem derives from the voluntary aspect of God’s self-limitation. This model naintains a view of God’s power that says God could withdraw, override or fail to offer freedom/agency to creatures. God could momentarily violate the regularities/natural laws of the universe. God could intervene in these ways if God chose to do so because God can control others.

ifGodhasthe ability not to give freedom/agency or not to uphold the regularities/ laws of the universe, God should sometimes use those abilities, in the name of love, to prevent genuine evil. A loving God would become un-self-limited, if God were able, in order to stop evil. Claiming that a God capable of control nevertheless permits evil leaves crucial questions unanswered.

4. God is essentially kenotic. [Oord’s view]

The model of God as essentially kenotic says God’s eternal nature is uncontrolling love. Because of love, God necessarily provides freedom/agency to creatures, and God works by empowering and inspiring creation toward well-being. God also necessarily upholds the regularities of the universe because those regularities derive from God’s eternal nature of love. Randomness in the world and creaturely free will are genuine, and God is not a dictator mysteriously pulling the strings. God never controls others. But God sometimes acts miraculously, in noncoercive ways. God providentially guides and calls all creation toward love and beauty.

The model of God as voluntarily self-limited thinks self-limitation is a free divine choice… The model of providence as essentially kenotic, by contrast, portrays God’s self-limitation as involuntary: God’s nature of love logically precedes God’s sovereign will. This means that God’s self-limiting Kenosis derives primarily from God’s eternal and unchanging nature of love and not from voluntary divine decisions. Because God’s nature is love, God always gives freedom, agency and self-organization to creatures, and God sustains the regularities of nature.

5. God sustains as impersonal force.

This model’s basic idea is that God exists as an impersonal force creating and sustaining all creation. Randomness, creaturely freedom and the regularities laws of the natural world are real. God’s steady-state influence never violates the integrity of the universe and its creatures that God now sustains. … God never engages in give-and-receive relationships.

Overall, this view helps in terms of what it says about God’s constancy. God sustains the natural laws, creates conditions for creaturely freedom and makes chance possible. But this model fails to support the idea that God is personal, interactive and involved in give-and-receive relations with creation.

6. God is initial creator and current observer.

After creating the universe, says this model, God did not stick around. God created all things, set natural laws in motion and has since withdrawn. God is now, to quote Bette Midler, “watching us from a distance.”

It typically goes under the name deism, although deism comes in many forms. Advocates share the view that God is not currently involved with the world.

By putting God’s action only at initial creation, however, this model has difficulty explaining how an omnipotent God would have created a world with so much evil. One wonders, is this the best an omnipotent God can create? To use Corev’s car illustration, couldn’t a really clever carmaker design self-building cars that function reliably?

This model will not appeal to people who, like me, believe they have felt God’s presence in their lives. It will not appeal to those who, like me, believe God acts miraculously. This model will not appeal to those who, like me, pray expecting that at least sometimes our prayers influence how God acts. And it will not appeal to people who, like me, think some forms of revelation are special, e.g., Scripture, because these forms give a clearer understanding of God than does nature or reason alone.

7. God’s ways are not our ways.

Versions of this final model vary widely. Each shares the fundamental belief that while God acts providentially, we ultimately have no idea what God’s actions are finally like. No language, no analogy and no concepts can tell us the nature of divine providence. All is mystery.

I believe we cannot comprehend God fully. And mystery must play some role in discussions of how God acts in the world. But this model offers no constructive proposal. Although its advocates may sound humble when saying finite creatures only know in part, they end up implicitly or explicitly declaring we cannot understand divine providence. We may appreciate their humility, but we should not feel obliged to adopt their mystery model.

Instead, it subtly denies that theology can help us make progress in addressing the fundamental project of this book: making sense of life. I have included it in my discussion because many who affirm divine providence explicitly or implicitly appeal to it.

Mary Stromer Hanson is a recent graduate of Denver Seminary with an MA in NT biblical studies. She is a longtime member of CBE and active in the Denver chapter. She is the author of The New Perspective on Mary and Martha: Do Not Preach Mary and Martha Again Until You Read This! and Bold Girls Speak: Girls of the Bible Come Alive both published by Wipf and Stock. Mary blogs regularly at Mary’s Sword.

Used with permission.

Mary and Martha continue to stir up heated dispute in the church, but their contribution to egalitarian arguments appears to have been wrung dry. I propose a new look at the sisters—a look that goes far beyond the tale of a “Mary” trying to fit into a “Martha” world.

The Old Interpretation

The primary takeaway from the traditional interpretation of Mary and Martha is the importance of putting “first things first.” In other words, crumbs under the sofa cushions are a sign of correct priorities. Jesus is said to be admonishing us to cut housekeeping corners for the sake of Bible study.

Let’s examine the usual discussion points. Do we really believe these sisters were too wimpy to settle their disagreements themselves? How would our interpretation of the story change if Martha had been doing work considered more crucial than what has historically been viewed as “women’s work”? Do our stereotypical attitudes towards women and their work skew our interpretation of this text? Does the traditional understanding of this passage fit with Jesus’ theology of service and the use of gifts? Is the traditional interpretation constructive for women?

Women’s Right and Obligation to Learn

Luke 10:38-42 is often referenced in defense of women’s right and obligation to learn. The old interpretation of Mary and Martha has indeed been a source of encouragement for generations of women who long to learn and study the Bible. Women are assured by this passage that their minds are important. We are more than our bodies.

That interpretation was comforting, until someone I knew “helpfully” pointed out that, “Yes, women can and should learn, but note that Mary never teaches!”  Women were not allowed to teach. Never from the pulpit. Never with any authority. Any calling a woman felt to preach and teach was not valid.

Does Luke 10:38-42 really teach that women are only allowed to learn with men, but not teach? Does learning at the feet of Jesus stop there? According to the traditional narrative, Mary is passively learning—nothing more. Those who would curtail women’s leadership are quick to note that Mary does not teach men.

But Luke 8:21 clarifies this for us: “My mother and brother are those who hear God’s word, and do it.” This passage is much stronger than: Jesus affirmed Mary’s right to sit at his feet, same as the men. Jesus clearly states that those who hear his word have the obligation to act on what they learn. Clearly, Jesus intends that both men and women will study and then act on his words (teaching, preaching, etc.).

Historical “Women’s Work” and “Service”

One source of dissonance in the traditional story is that Jesus appears to short-change the work women have traditionally (historically) done—work that must be tended to if humans are to thrive—by chastising Martha.

Jesus himself performed the practical tasks of life liberally, and with overwhelming abundance as evidenced by his miracles. He provided fish and bread with leftovers; he himself enjoyed the bodily pleasures of good wine and food.

But in the passage, he seems to be admonishing Martha for going overboard in her practical service. But in Luke 10:5-6, Jesus prescribes hospitality for traveling disciples. It seems incongruous that Jesus would not welcome Martha’s diakonia (service). Diakonia is not assessed negatively in any other Lukan text. Can this story really be about Martha over-serving?

Martha is exonerated in John 12:2 where she is again serving. In John 12:26, “The one who serves me, serves the Father.” Jesus’ entire life was about service. He often placed himself in the role of a servant (e.g., Lk 22:27). One would expect to see Jesus continue those themes in this story: servanthood, putting others before self, and the value of hospitality.

In part 2 of this series, we will take a closer look at what Jesus is really saying about Martha’s service.

Mary and Martha at Jesus’ Feet

Much of our interpretation of this passage hangs on the assumption that Mary studies at the feet of Jesus. But what about Martha?

The KJV has the best English translation of Luke 10:39: “And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word.” “At the feet” was a way of saying someone was a student of a master (Acts 22:3). A word often translated as “also” is omitted in most English versions.

With this variant considered, the sentence would read: “And this woman has a sister called Mary, who also(frequently) sat herself at the feet.” So we know that both of the sisters had already, before this day, been students of the Lord. From Luke 8:2, we know that women followed him in the country-side and he taught them the same as men—at his feet.

A New Interpretation

We have established that:

1. Jesus affirmed Mary and Martha’s learning.
2. Jesus intended for all “sitters at his feet” to act on his teachings.
3. Jesus’ life and teaching demonstrated that he valued practical service.
4. Martha studied at Jesus’ feet, just like Mary.

Now that we’ve covered these four points, we can reframe the story of Mary and Martha around a difference in gifts and calling between the sisters.

I propose an interpretation that not only affirms Mary’s right to learn, but more broadly illustrates Mary and Martha’s active callings in the church and world. Jesus places no limitations on women’s activities, but rather encourages them to pursue their callings. It is my hope that women will be empowered by Mary and Martha’s example—that women will learn, and then act upon that learning.

In Part 2 of this series, you will not be asked: “Are you a ‘Martha,’ or are you a ‘Mary’?” That question is superfluous and invalid. Both sisters are engaged in demanding activities far beyond the popular portrayals.

Rather, you will see that Martha is not reprimanded because of overzealous kitchen work, nor is Mary restricted to learning only. Both sisters are pursuing their God-given callings, and no choice between being a “Mary” or “Martha” is necessary!

In Part 1 of this series, we established four points:

1. Jesus affirmed Mary and Martha’s learning.
2. Jesus intended for all “sitters at his feet” to act on his teachings.
3. Jesus’ life demonstrated that he valued practical service.
4. Martha studied at Jesus’ feet, just like Mary.

With these points in mind, I’d like to reframe the story around Mary and Martha’s individual callings, and how Jesus directed and nurtured those callings.

Mary and Martha have been my Bible story companions since childhood. My mother used to read their story from The Child’s Garden of Bible Stories. In the book, Mary was pictured sitting sweetly at Jesus’ feet, while Martha, broom in hand, angrily looked on from the kitchen. It was clear to me that Mary got it right and Martha got it wrong. My name is Mary, so as a five year-old, I was proud to share my name with the sister who “got it right.”

When I was older, I recognized two fundamental flaws in my childish thinking: that I had to choose between the two women’s callings and that one calling was less important than the other.

Conflict between Learning and Practical Service

The years flew by and I soon had a young family. My days overflowed with “Martha” activities, so I served in practical ways while my Bible gathered dust. I also resigned from pursuing my interest in formal Bible study.

I was pulled in two directions: Jesus seemed to prefer Mary’s activities over Martha’s, but I had very necessary adult obligations.

These thoughts simmered on the back burner for a few decades, until I could finally attend seminary. When a pastor friend and mentor preached a series of sermons on Luke 10:38-42, my long-dormant thoughts about this topic were revived. I naturally chose my old friends, Mary and Martha, for my thesis topic. I knew that the traditional interpretation of the passage was harmful to women, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Setting the Stage

In verse 10:38, Jesus is traveling with an unidentified plural group that could have included women. By the last half of vs. 38, the plural verb has morphed into a singular verb with Jesus as the subject. The text continues, “A certain woman received him.” In many translations “into her/a house” is added. The earliest parchments do not include any mention of a house, and that phrase is most likely a later addition. She “received him” could also mean she received the gospel message, whether or not she took him into her house. So the story likely took place in a very different setting than we typically imagine. (No crowd of disciples descending on Martha expecting a home-cooked meal.)

Sisterly conflict

Despite traditional depictions of the sisters’ relationship, Mary and Martha are not cranky sisters in a spat. Both of them face a dilemma far beyond the choice between ministry and kitchen work.

Martha’s Service

Verse 10:40 describes Martha as distracted because of diakonia or “service.” Diakonia is a word traditionally translated as “work of a deacon or minister”—if it refers to a man’s activity. Though this is the same word used in Rom. 16:1, it is often translated as “helper” as it refers to Phoebe’s work.

There has been a lot of study on the use of diakonia in the Bible. It can include many different kinds of service. It certainly does not only refer to what was historically “women’s work.” In fact, there is no mention of meal preparation or household tasks anywhere in the text! Martha’s activity is not specific; she is exhausted over some unnamed diakonia, which could be anything that a devoted believer would do in first-century Jewish context.

Mary’s Mission

Have you ever wondered why Mary does not speak in this passage? Mary does not speak, because Mary is not there! In the passage, Martha and Jesus discuss Mary, but the subject of their conversation never chimes in.

In verse 40, an indeterminate amount of time has passed. Martha approaches Jesus with a question, “Do you not care that my sister regularly leaves me to minister alone? Tell her therefore that she may give me a hand.” We can surmise that Martha wants Jesus to relay to Mary that she needs help with her many unnamed diakonia obligations.

An imperfect verb indicates this is more than a one-time event. It would also seem that Martha is asking Jesus to “tell” Mary because Martha does not know where Mary is, but Jesus knows her location. It is possible that Mary is following Jesus throughout Galilee as a disciple.

Jesus answers Martha, “Mary has chosen agatha.” This word does not have to be translated as “better or best.” It can simply mean “good.” Jesus is saying that Mary has chosen “good” and he is not going to call Mary away from her activity to go back to the village to help Martha. In this moment, Jesus confirms the validity of Mary’s choice.

Two Sisters, Two Callings

If we look a little deeper, the familiar verses of Mary and Martha begin to teach new lessons. Luke 10:38-42 is an endorsement of women in mission or ministry away from home. But, at the same time, Jesus does not denigrate the in-village discipleship of Martha. Jesus defends Mary’s calling, but does not dismiss Martha’s call to practical service.

Many women have struggled to balance a calling to formal ministry with a desire to serve practically in their communities. But God doesn’t make us choose and neither does the story of Mary and Martha. We may enjoy teaching and preaching or we may enjoy hands-on ministry. Or we can do both. Jesus gives women room to creatively use their gifts and pursue their callings.

Mary and Martha are two sisters living out two different callings according to their abilities and circumstances. Martha is still the sister that needs to rearrange her thinking, but for the much larger purpose of allowing her sister to pursue her discipleship away from home. Whether evangelizing to new converts, or serving practically in our communities, both calls are demanding and require the requisite study “at the feet” of Jesus.

By Charles Colton Allen, Biblical Studies Student and Student Fellow of the Center for Apologetics and Cultural Engagement at Liberty University, Member of Reformed Episcopal Church. @CCAllen27

The gospel should never be reduced to simply a message of personal salvation. Doing so leaves us with a malnourished understanding of the gospel. It is much more than a message of personal salvation, but this is not to say that personal salvation is not an important part of the gospel. Instead, personal salvation needs to be understood in its appropriate context: a story within the gospel narrative.

The gospel is the good news about the kingdom of God coming and with it life, truth, beauty, goodness, and love uncorrupted. The good news is Jesus the chosen one of God, the messiah, ushering in the kingdom of God and defeating sin and death. However, this was not done in a way we would expect. This messiah, this Jesus, initiated the coming of the kingdom of God and the end of sin and death by dying a death fit for criminals and slaves: crucifixion.

This is quite the quandary. How does a crucified messiah bring in God’s Kingdom? How does death overcome sin and death? Jesus the messiah was crucified to say “Yes!” to these questions: “is there a loving God?” and “will every bad thing become untrue?”

From God’s very being come forth life, truth, beauty, goodness, and love. If these things come from His very nature, then He must make untrue all things contrary to His nature. There is no room in the kingdom of God for sin or death. “Yes!” God will make every bad thing come untrue, but humans are in a grave predicament.

We all have shown to be contrary to God’s nature in our thoughts, words, and deeds. Will we be made untrue? God says “No!” because He has said “Yes!” to humanity in being the citizens of His Kingdom. However, God has to do something about our corruption, our sin, so that we can be a part His kingdom. In being crucified and dying, Jesus the perfect lamb of God canceled the debt of sin for humanity (Col. 2:14), and has cleared the path for humans to become citizens of the kingdom of God.

Jesus’ life does not end in death though. Three days after His death, Jesus was raised from the dead. In His resurrection, Jesus rendered sin powerless because death, the result of sin, was overcome and defeated. The citizens of the kingdom of God no longer have to worry about sin and death reigning ever again. Instead, the one who truly reigns is Jesus in the kingdom of God.

This is the revolutionary fact of the good news. The reason why Jesus will be reigning in the kingdom of God is the same reason why Jesus could be the perfect lamb of God and why He was raised from the dead: Jesus is God Himself incarnate. In King Jesus, God has shown solidarity with humanity and dwelt among us.

Now why all this for humanity? Why did God humiliate Himself to live and suffer as a human (Phil. 2:6-9)? The Gospel of John tells us that God’s motivation for sending Himself in His Son was His love (John 3:16). Here it has been shown the answer to the question that weighs on our hearts and minds. Here is the loving God, and this loving God says “Yes!” to humanity being the citizens of His kingdom so that we can be His people and He be our God (Jer. 24:7, 31:33, 32:38; Ezek. 11:20, 14:11, 37:23-27; Zech. 8:8; 2 Cor. 6:16; Heb. 8:10).

Since the foundations of the world, there has been a gospel narrative that has been going on the whole time. This narrative is of God overcoming sin and death to establish His eternal kingdom through Jesus. This kingdom has been established by Jesus and for Jesus who is and will be the king of this kingdom. Humanity has been given to Jesus to be the citizens of His kingdom. Therefore, there must be personal salvation in order for humanity to participate in the good news of the kingdom of God. This is the place of personal salvation within the gospel.