In The Nick of Time

The apostle Paul instructed the young preacher Timothy to give himself to reading. In the ancient world, reading was normally done aloud, and it was often a public activity. Books were scarce, and if you were going to read aloud anyway, why shouldn’t others benefit from hearing?

Paul thought that a young preacher needed to develop the habit of reading. This sensibility has been echoed through much of the history of the church. For example, the Anabaptists who drafted the Schleitheim Confession made reading the first duty of a pastor. Periods when pastors did not read have invariably been times of spiritual darkness for those who name the name of Christ.

Reading continues to be one of the most important duties of a pastor. Pastors are responsible to do the work of the mind, and their minds must have something with which to work. Reading is the door, and texts are the workmen through which the furniture of ideas enters the mind and organizes a pastor’s ministry.

How much should a pastor read? The answer to this question is determined by the nature of the ministry. A pastor needs to read enough, and enough of the right stuff, to be growing intellectually and to meet the demands of ministry in the world in which he lives.

Most of us minister to people who are familiar with sophisticated ideas in the fields of politics, jurisprudence, ethics, philosophy, and religion. For the most part, these ideas are mediated to our people through channels that are hostile to Christian orthodoxy and morality. Reading widely and thinking well is the only way for a pastor to help his people out of their bad thinking. I do not see how a pastor can expect to meet the challenges of contemporary ministry if his goal is to read less than approximately one book every week.

What should a pastor read? The short answer is, “All sorts of things.” Besides reading his Bible and reading for sermon preparation, a pastor should have a reading plan that he tries to implement consistently. Of course, his planned reading will be interrupted by necessary reading, but the plan gives some shape to his reading agenda.

Since graduating from seminary, I have found it useful to try to read by topic. I have a list of half-a-dozen general categories of reading. I try to rotate books from these categories.

by Dr. Jeff Straub

I was about to board a plane for Budapest, Hungary, to teach for a week in Arad, Romania, when my eyes were drawn to the TV monitors across the JFK airport. Every monitor that was not giving passenger information was carrying the story—Michael Jackson was dead. From my accommodations here in Romania, the TV news (Romanian) carries the story as a lead feature, showing video clips from London, Paris, India, the Philippines, Japan, and finally, the National Stadium in Bucharest, Romania, where Jackson once performed. The flowers and candles are piling up, and the tears are flowing. There have even been reports of fans committing suicide. The world weeps at the loss of the “King of Pop.”

Jackson’s death will likely be a major story around the world for at least the next few weeks, and maybe longer. Perhaps some think that the death of one so detached from Christianity is of little consequence. After all, people die. I wondered how many others died in the world the day Michael Jackson died—Farrah Fawcett, at least, and hundreds more, no doubt. And why should the Christian even care?

It behooves believers to pause and reflect on this cultural phenomenon, especially in these days. I don’t know where Jackson is today. To my knowledge, he never professed faith in Christ, without which, no man can stand justified before a living God. But his death does remind us of several things that we would all do well to ponder. I pen these few words for believers to stop and consider, amidst the world’s fixation with the death of such an iconic figure.

Read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

This Man

Jesus told a crowd of unbelievers, “The bread that I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The crowd responded with incredulity. They asked, “How is this man able to give us his flesh to eat?”

In context, the crowd would have understood the reference to Jesus’ flesh as a metaphor. From the beginning of His argument with the multitude, Jesus had used the eating of bread to symbolize belief in Him. He repeatedly challenged the crowd with significant claims. He claimed to be the bread that came down from heaven. He claimed to have authority to raise up the dead. He claimed to be sent from God, and He applied a Messianic title to Himself. Jesus insisted that anyone who believed on Him would be given eternal life.

The only element that Jesus now added to these claims was that His flesh or body would be the bread that He would give for the life of the world. In other words, Jesus averred that He was not merely a spiritual, divine savior, but also a very human, incarnate one. His body or flesh—His humanity—would be absolutely essential to our salvation.

If the crowd was following Jesus’ metaphor of eating as believing, then they should have understood this claim. They were supposed to believe on Jesus as one who would give His body as a sacrifice for their sins. Nevertheless, understanding the metaphor was no guarantee that they would necessarily accept Jesus’ claims.

In fact, they did not believe. Instead, they asked, “How is this man able to give us his flesh to eat?” The thrust of this question was consistent with other questions that the crowd had asked. They simply could not accept the notion that “this man,” Jesus, could actually deliver what He claimed to offer.

Read Part 1 and Part 2.

Body as Bread

After the feeding of the 5,000 men, a crowd followed Jesus across the Sea of Galilee to Capernaum. There, they attempted to manipulate Him into providing more free meals. Jesus, however, was looking beyond their physical needs. He began to challenge their spiritual needs, presenting Himself as the Messiah who could satisfy the hunger in their souls.

The conversation revolved around three questions from the crowd. The first question was, “What sign do you give?” This demand was tantamount to a rejection of Jesus’ messianic claims. It turned into a crass attempt to manipulate Him into serving the felt needs of the crowd. Jesus refused to offer another sign, however. Instead, He rebuked the crowd for their unbelief. He insisted that He had come down from heaven, and that He Himself held authority to raise the dead in the last day.

This claim led to the crowd’s second question: “How can He say that He came down from heaven?” The question underscores the unbelief of the crowd. Evidently the people understood what Jesus was claiming, but they could not accept His heavenly origin.

Jesus did not answer the question directly. Rather, He pointed out that no one had the ability to come to Him unless they were drawn by the Father. Those who did come, Jesus promised to raise up in the last day. Clarifying what it meant to be drawn by the Father, Jesus stated that absolutely everyone who heard and learned from the Father would come to Him. To be drawn by the Father is to hear and learn from the Father. No one comes until drawn in this way, but everyone who is drawn in this way does come.

Read Part 1.

The Bread of Life

In the confrontation of John 6, the crowd attempted to manipulate Jesus into becoming the provider for their material needs. In return, Jesus encouraged them to attend to their spiritual needs, implying that He was the Messiah who could meet those needs. Faced with this claim, the crowd demanded a sign. Alluding to the nature of the sign that they wanted, they said, “Our fathers ate manna in the wilderness—he gave them bread out of heaven.” Jesus knew that they were looking for another free meal, so He replied that Moses didn’t give them the real bread. He could offer better bread, bread that comes down out of heaven, bread that gives life to the world. The crowd took the bait, exclaiming, “Evermore give us this bread!”

That was exactly the reaction that Jesus had anticipated, and His reply went straight to the heart of the matter. “I am the bread of life,” He declared. “The one who comes to me will never hunger, and the one who believes on me will never thirst.” That was certainly not the kind of bread for which the crowd was angling.

Jesus had already used the metaphor of eating. He acknowledged that there is a temporal food for the nourishment of the body, but He pointed out that food for the soul is more important. The spiritual food is received by believing on the one whom God sent. In Jesus’ metaphor, eating stands for believing. Bread stands for Him, and He is to be received or “eaten” by believing His claims and trusting Him.

When Jesus presented Himself as the “bread of life,” He was strengthening this analogy. His emphasis was clearly on inner reception of His person and claims: anyone who comes to Him will never hunger, and anyone who believes on Him will never thirst. In the metaphor, to eat is to believe.

The Initial Confrontation

Among sacerdotalists and some sacramentalists, John 6 is considered to be the dernier mot. They see it as the definitive proof text that irrefutably demonstrates the bodily presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharistic elements. They insist that in the Eucharist, people actually eat Jesus’ flesh and drink Jesus’ blood (Jn 6:53-56).

What does the passage teach? The early part of the chapter narrates the story about Jesus feeding five thousand men (the text does not say whether women or children were present). This story includes the so-called “miracle of the loaves” in which Jesus multiplies a few loaves of bread to be able to feed the crowd.

In view of the miracle, the crowd tried to take Jesus and force Him to become their king, probably because they saw an opportunity for a government welfare program. Jesus, however, slipped away quietly. The disciples took boats and began to row to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. When they were hindered by weather, Jesus performed His miracle of walking out to the boat across the water. The story ends with their boat arriving suddenly, and apparently miraculously, near Capernaum.

In the meanwhile, the crowd was trying to figure out what had happened to Jesus. They saw the disciples leave, and they knew that Jesus was not with them. They waited for a while, but when they discerned that Jesus was gone, they decided to follow the disciples. They took boats and came to Capernaum, where they found Jesus and the disciples. Perplexed, they asked Jesus, “Rabbi, when did you get here?”

Jesus ignored their question. Knowing that the crowd consisted mainly of day-laborers (people who would do a day’s work for a day’s food), He told them to stop working for “food that perishes,” but to work for food that “remains to eternal life.” The point of this saying is that feeding the body does not satisfy the hunger of the soul, and the feeding of the soul is the more important of the two. These people were so impressed with a free meal that they had followed Jesus across the Sea of Galilee. Jesus wanted them to exhibit as much concern for their eternal wellbeing as for their temporal satisfaction.

The past two weeks have brought an exponentially greater response than any previous Nick of Time essays. Whatever else it is, this response is certainly an indication that these essays have touched a nerve within fundamentalism. I’ve decided to share some of the emails that I have received.

Why?

First, in the interest of full disclosure. Those who read the essays have an interest in knowing how they were received. To be sure, some sense of this can be gathered from the weblogs. Bloggers, however, do not always represent the ranks and file. Their perspective can partly be balanced by paying attention to what people say in private. The responses below should provide a supplementary source of information that will illustrate how fundamentalists are viewing this controversy, and, indeed, the condition of the fundamentalist movement itself.

Second, because I believe in giving one’s opponents a hearing. Leadership that tries to control followers by restricting who gets a hearing is not ethical leadership. We cannot lead by trying to silence dissenters. Years ago I used to edit an occasional review known as Ruminations. My standing offer in that review was that I would give my opponents the final word in any discussion. For this series, I am doing the same thing. I have made a point of including words of opposition from both sides—and I will offer no rejoinder.

Third, because I affirm that all believers are indwelt and being sanctified by the Spirit of God. That being the case, I really do believe that all of us together possess more wisdom than any one of us alone. Granted, there is a time to stand alone against the world—but that time does not come until after other judgments have been heard and weighed. Under normal circumstances, the very best thing that we can do is to talk to one another. So I encourage you to listen to these voices and to hear what they have to say.

All of the following responses are from Christian leaders who are identified as fundamentalists. I have removed, not only their names, but any references that could be used (in my judgment) to identify them. I list them only by the positions of responsibility that they hold. No editing has been done that would change the meaning of the response. I have also tried to remove the responses that were simply “attaboys,” except in cases in which the respondent held some significant position of leadership within fundamentalism.

Joel Carpenter is the Provost of Calvin Seminary. He is also the author of Revive Us Again, an excellent volume detailing the history of the “middle years” of fundamentalism, the period from the 1930s to the 1960s. Carpenter grew up as a fundamentalist, and he understands something about the way that fundamentalists do business. At one point in his history, Carpenter offers a long quotation from a sermon by John R. Rice.

Christian writers from Augustine to Dante picture the eternal destiny of the righteous as beatific vision. The idea is that in eternity, purified from our sins and glorified in our resurrection bodies, we shall behold God in the fullness of His glory. Transfixed with His beauty, our eyes shall gaze upon Him in a kind of everlasting stare. We shall neither want nor need anything other than to behold His presence and to enjoy His glory.