The Intention of Jesus

This is a paper that I submitted for my Gospels class at Covenant Seminary.  It was one of the most helpful papers that has been assigned to me in my first two years of seminary.  The assignment was straight forward: 2 pages, 10 point font, 1.5 line spacing: "What did Jesus intend to accomplish in his first-century earthly ministry?":

When Christ came to earth in the first century He intended to inaugurate the eschatological kingdom of God in his life, death, and resurrection.  His goal was to further God’s mission of reversing the effects of the fall and restoring creation.  He accomplished this in a variety of ways.  He sought to fulfill the will of the Father.  He revealed God’s kingdom in his ministry.  He created disciples to carry on His mission after His ascension into heaven.  Ultimately, He fulfilled his intentions by accomplishing the salvation of His people.

            Jesus’ earthly mission was the mission of His Father.  He came to earth to fulfill the plan of redemption and restoration first hinted at in Genesis 3:15.  That Jesus came to earth to do the Father’s will is undeniable in the pages of John’s Gospel (cf. e.g. 7.17; 8.16; 8.29; 9.4; 14.10, etc.).  This is not evident in John’s Gospel alone.  Indeed, the boy Jesus says as much in Luke 2.49.  As God revealed Himself and His mission to His people in the Old Testament, so Jesus did in His day.  Repeatedly in the Pentateuch we read “the Lord said to Moses” (Exodus 7.1; Numbers 1:1, etc.).  In the Gospels, this declaration is replaced by Jesus authoritative declaration “I say to you” (Matthew 5.26, Mark 8.12, etc.).  Jesus takes up the mission of God in the very language that He uses.  Jesus’ will mirrors the will of the Father for they are one God united in purpose: to bring redemption via the kingdom of God.

            This unity of purpose is seen in how Jesus understood His ministry.  Jesus sought not only to fulfill the will of the Father and accomplish God’s mission on earth, He was Himself the revelation of this mission (see e.g John 1.1-18).  Indeed, he announces His ministry in Mark 1.15 by saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”  Similarly in Matthew, as Jesus begins His ministry, Matthew 4.17 tells us that “From that time Jesus began to preach, saying ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’”   He announces that in Him a new epoch has arrived and that it requires a response.  He further understands His ministry as the fulfillment of the Scriptures of the Old Testament.  Most famously, in Matthew 5.17 he declares “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.”  In Luke 24.26-27 He shows that His teaching, including His teaching about His death and subsequent resurrection, are proclaimed in the pages of the Old Testament (see also John 18.9, 32; 19.24, 28). 

            The inauguration of the kingdom marks the primary aspect of Jesus’ ministry in the Gospels.  It was His intention to establish this Kingdom in the first century, and Jesus powerfully demonstrates that the kingdom of God has truly come.  This can be seen clearly in His miracles.  In Matthew 12.28, when he casts out a demon, he says “if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.”  In Luke 7, when John the Baptist sends messengers to see if Jesus is “the one who is to come” (v.19), Jesus tells them “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them.  And blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (v. 22-23).   Here he quotes Isaiah 29 and 35 to show that He is indeed the one for whom John prepared the way.  The miracles he performs show that the kingdom has come in His person.

            Just like His miracles, Jesus’ teaching underscores the present nature of the Kingdom.  Earlier, in Luke 4, Jesus declares that the Jubilee year of Isaiah 61 has come in His person (v.21).    He explains what this means for His followers in His teaching of the “kingdom ethic” in the Sermon on the Mount/Plain.  It is a kingdom that displays the goodness, graciousness, love, kindness, holiness, and righteousness that God intended His creation to have.  Jesus could teach about this kingdom as “one who had authority” (Mark 1.22) for it is His kingdom.

            This manifestation of the kingdom of God in His person led Jesus to make disciples.  In His great teaching in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew He highlights the need for disciples in 5.13-16.  He makes disciples to preserve the earth and show forth the goodness of God’s Kingdom.  At the end of Matthew’s Gospel he commands the apostles to “make disciples” (Matthew 28.19).  Yet, His intention was not just to commission messengers to send into the world, but to sustain them as well.  Much of His prayer in John 17 is focused on these ends (see especially vv. 9-24).  He promises His disciples that he will give them another “Helper” in John 14:16, and he makes good on that promise in John 20.22 (cf. Acts 2.2-4).  From the fearful (Mark 16.8) to the doubting (John 20.24-25), Jesus makes disciples who will carry on His message of the kingdom.

Jesus further inaugurated this Kingdom by ushering in the New Covenant.  In Matthew 10.1 Jesus calls twelve disciples to usher in this New Covenant, just as the twelve sons of Jacob were preeminent in the Old Covenant.  He thus constitutes a New Israel (cf. John 15.1-17).  This is made explicit in the words of institution in the Last Supper.  As Jesus takes the cup he says in Luke 22.20 “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.”

            This act of inaugurating God’s Kingdom in His blood leads to the culmination of His first century ministry:  His death and resurrection.  As Matthew highlighted the beginning phase of Jesus ministry (“Jesus began to preach…”), so he highlights the end in Matthew 16.21 “From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”  Indeed, each Gospel climaxes in the events of His passion and resurrection.  In Mark, after Peter’s confession (8.30), Jesus “began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer…and be killed, and after three days rise again” (8.31).  Mark records two more passion predictions in the coming chapters (9.30-32; 10.32-34).  At the beginning of John’s Gospel, Jesus repeatedly says that his hour has not come (2.4; 7.30; 8.20), but later, in 12.23-26 he says that his hour has come, and that His death will result in “the Son of Man being glorified” (cf. John 13.1; 17.1).  In Luke, Jesus foretells his death in Luke 9.21-22, 43-45.   The destination of the cross is highlighted by Luke beginning the journey narrative in Luke 9.51 by saying, “When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”  His intention was to go to the cross and drink the cup of divine judgment (Mark 10.38), and to overcome that death in his resurrection.

            All of this results in the salvation of God’s people.  Jesus’ intention to inaugurate the kingdom of God by fulfilling the Father’s will, His teaching, forming disciples, and through his death and resurrection was to provide salvation to a fallen world in need of a Savior.  The Gospels each build to a climax in which Jesus atones for sin in his death and is vindicated as the righteous One of God in His resurrection.  Jesus came to provide salvation, and thus our response to His work, what we believe about His intentions, determines our destiny.  As is made clear in John’s Gospel, “the Son of Man [must] be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.  For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (3.15b-16).  What was the intention of Jesus?  Luke boils it down concisely, “to seek and to save the lost” (19.10).  

"Cor meum tibi offero, Domine, prompte et sincere."

Taking the Bait

I know that Ann Coulter is just out to get attention.  I also know that writing about her plays into her scheme to get attention.  I can relate to that.  My own public disappointment with her comments about those among us with Down Syndrome was equally narcissistic (I wouldn't want anyone to think that I thought so lowly of others, or that I could be so intensive, even though I do both of those things).  What initially upset me was that her comments hit a bit too close to home (I have a son with a neurological disorder), but I wonder if I was too quick to make sure everyone knew what she did wrong without first thinking of how I do the exact same thing.  What she said was terrible.  I know that any reasonable person will see her comments for what they are: rude, insensitive, cruel, and, let's be honest, evil.  But in looking back, I wonder if my attitude towards her wasn't the exact thing as her attitude towards those among us with special needs?

A Special Olympics athlete wrote an excellent open letter to Ann Coulter.  It is worth your time to read it.  Hopefully, through responses like John's, the struggles and the value of the special needs community will gain a deserved moment in the national spotlight.  God can and does use that which was intended for evil for good. John has said it well enough, so I'll add no more criticism.

What I really wonder, though, is how I can be so ungracious in telling others that they need to demonstrate more grace.  I'm not saying that what she said doesn't matter.  What she did and said was wrong on several levels (belittling the special needs community, speaking poorly of the President who is, as Paul says, God's servant [διακονς]).  But my reaction to her was just as rude and unloving as her attitude towards both our President and the special needs community.

In 1 Corinthians 5:10ff Paul tells the the church that when he said not to associate with sinners (specifically, with sexually immoral people) in his previous letter he did not mean the sinners "of this world...since then you would need to go out of the world...For what have I to do with judging outsiders?  Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge?  God judges those outside."  It seems that in responding to Ann Coulter that I, like the Corinthians, forgot the Gospel.

What if my first thought would have been, "there's a person who needs Jesus" instead of "what a terrible person!"  What if my first reaction would have been to pray for her, instead of posting about how terrible she is.  What if I would have realized that I need God's grace every bit as much as she does.  I've been a Christian for a long time, and I have proven once again that I still forget the Gospel.  

Ann Coulter is a sinner, but guess what, I am too.  Praise God that He is gracious to sinners.  Praise God for taking my sins of arrogance, judgmentalism,  hostility and all the rest upon Himself out of shear, unbounded, eternal love.  I pray that I remember that next time I see someone else acting just like me.

"Cor meum tibi offero, Domine, prompte et sincere."

Not the Way It's Supposed To Be by Cornelius Plantinga

This is a bit longer than the average book review on this site.  It is also a little more "academic" (with page citations and such).  This is because it was written for a class I took last Spring.  If you want the short answer: read this book.  It is written on a very accessible, popular level, but the theology contained therein is profound.  This is in no way "ivory tower" theology.  It is a boots on the ground, down and dirty discussion of a doctrine that we tend to ignore.

Sin is the constant companion that we all too often choose to ignore. Every person who lives or has lived on this earth has experienced the tragic effects of sin. It has ravaged our world and our interactions with each other. It has harmed everyone and all aspects of life, from the youngest person to the largest institutions, but, for the most part, we do not talk about it. In Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be, Cornelius Plantinga seeks to remedy that situation. He is “Trying to retrieve an old awareness that has slipped and changed in recent decades. The awareness of sin…” (ix), because today “where sin is concerned, people mumble now” (x). 

In Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be, Plantinga tells a story. This world is supposed to be peaceful, just, and good (8). God created it that way, and He created humanity for relationship with Him. However, we don’t experience life this way. A problem was introduced, the problem of sin. Sin is not just a moral problem, it is a relational problem. “Sin is the smearing of a relationship, the grieving of one’s divine parent and benefactor, a betrayal of the partner to whom one is joined by a holy bond” (12). 

Plantinga wants us to realize that sin has a history, a past. The world was not always this way. If we fail to see sin as part of a story, as something within the story and not transcendent over it, we cannot really understand sin. If we do not understand what the world was like before sin, and what it will be like after its removal, we will not properly understand the tragedy of sin. 

This is one of several things that Plantinga does well in his book. Sin is never portrayed as normal. It is always something that distorts. Sin is “anti-creation” (29). “Nothing about sin is its own; all its power, persistence, and plausibility are stolen goods” (89). Sin is does not have its own existence. It is merely a corruptor of what is good, a “Parasite,” as Plantinga calls it. It is a spoiler of the good, but because its existence is not its own, it is ultimately powerless over the original creation or God’s re-creational intention (88). Yet, in our fallen state the scope of sin is pervasive. It touches everything. “Evil perverts religion as well as everything else that is vital and momentous” (108). 

Evil disguises itself well. It often appears good (98). We see this in culture. Entire countries can be deceived into following an evil dictator’s scheme (107), but this is not a sin that is somewhere out there. This is a sin that we all participate in for we all deceive ourselves (112). We tell ourselves lies, and then start to believe them. We allow sin to corrupt our hearts. This deception that we take part in is attractive because we know that there is a better way than sin. As Plantinga says, “Remarkably, the phenomenon of self-deception testifies that we human beings…are incorrigibly sold on goodness” (112). We wish for our evil to appear good. 

It is in places like this where Plantinga’s book is at its best. He skillfully convinces the reader of what he is arguing for, and then takes that truth and places it before us as a mirror into our own hearts. Just when we begin to think; “Yes, that is true of our culture and it is truly terrible” on the next page he places the sin that he has been discussing before the reader and causes us to realize that this is true of ourselves. No one slips through the cracks in Plantinga’s thorough and descriptive evaluation of sin. 

Yet, he does this carefully and honestly. Plantinga writes well, and the reader never feels that he is being talked down to. Sin is taken seriously, and its grave effects are described with gravity and sorrow in some detail. Sin is always described as something evil and terrible, but the sinner, while not seen as a mere victim (105), is treated as a person who must deal with the evil in the world and in himself. Because of this, here is a book to be read by Christian and non-Christian alike. It is psychological, gritty, and real. It is a book that meets us where we are. It is a book that makes us feel in our conscience what we have lost in our consciousness. It recognizes that we are all in this together; we are all part of this story (161). There are many touchstones in this book. Whatever the religious persuasion of the reader, the examples from our culture, society, and selves will be easily recognizable and identified with. 

Over the course of the book, Plantinga not only discusses various kinds of sin, but also various characteristics of sin. As mentioned, sin is parasitic in nature and tries to appear good. Sin is also foolishness. While wisdom is “the knowledge of God’s world and the knack of fitting oneself into it” sin is a corruption of that (115). Sin is “wrong,” “dumb,” and “futile” (121). 

Plantinga sees sin appearing in two basic postures, attack or flight (153). Sometimes, we attack others (or God) in word or deed. At other times we flee from what we should do or from recognizing that we are doing is wrong. But again, Plantinga does not pretend that this is just something that others do. He does not place these actions only at the feet of non-Christians. In one of his more striking passages Plantinga says to those of us in the church; “Claiming allegiance to the Christ who speaks in active imperatives…, we Christians nonetheless prefer to keep the bread of life in our own cupboard and to speak of it only to those who already have it” (189). Once again, Plantinga is refreshingly and starkly frank. 

Here is yet another strength of this book. Plantinga pulls no punches. He does not shrink away from asking the hard questions. He does not ignore critiques of the Christian doctrine of sin (cf. his excellent chapter on addiction), nor does he shy away from challenging our cultures treasured beliefs (cf. 100). He can do this because he is convinced that there is an existential disconnect between what should be and what we experience. We all know that things just are not as they should be. 

Ultimately, the problem with sin is that it always fails to satisfy. “Why is it not only wrong but also foolish to offend God? God is our final good, our maker and savior, the one in whom alone our restless hearts come to rest. To rebel against God is to saw off the branch that supports us” (123). Human nature “with its vast and mysterious amalgam of capacities to think, feel, supervise, love, create, respond, and act virtuously—that is, with its capacities for imaging God—has become the main carrier and exhibit of corruption” (30-31). 

This is the story. Humans, created to image God in the world, have failed to do this due to our rebellion against God. All that we do is tainted with this rebellion, and it affects everything. Yet there is good news. Because this is “not the way it’s supposed to be,” it is not the way that it will be. There is hope for Shalom in the resurrection of Jesus (199), but without a proper understanding of the problem, we will not cling to the solution. 

This is not a book to be read quickly. It is a book that you must digest, must think about, must consider. If we take sin seriously, as Plantinga suggests we should, we should not plow through this book as if it were a dime store novel. Instead, the reader must carefully consider what he is saying and what the implications are. Here is a book that recognizes, above all else, that our main problem is our failure to relate to God as we should. Things are not right because we are not oriented properly towards God. 

While this book is about sin, about the problem instead of the solution, in the epilogue the story surfaces once again. Plantinga brings the story back to bear with these words; “To speak of sin by itself, to speak of it apart from the realities of creation and grace, is to forget the resolve of God. God wants shalom and will pay any price to get it back” (199). That is the story. Sin is here, and it is real, but it has not always been and will not always be. In the end, God’s purpose will be accomplished and sin will be wiped away, but for now, it is something that is with us and that is gravely serious. Plantinga’s book is the best contemporary evaluation of the problem of sin that I have read. It is an excellent work and will benefit all who read it.

"Cor meum tibi offero, Domine, prompte et sincere."