Alive to God

        Alexander Solzhenitsyn (photo right), in recounting his experiences as a prisoner in the Russian Gulag, tells how at a certain moment he almost gave up hope.  Performing slave labor twelve hours a day while receiving a starvation ration, he had become very ill and felt that death was near.  That day, while shoveling sand under the scorching sun, he became so despondent he stopped working, even though he knew the guards would beat him to death.  He simply could not go on.  Suddenly he was aware that someone was standing near him.  Turning, he saw an old man who used his shovel to make the sign of the cross in the sand.  That simple gesture by a fellow prisoner reminded Solzhenitsyn that he need not fear death.  The crucified and risen Lord had defeated death and brought into the world an imperishable hope.  Solzhenitsyn took courage to persist in his resistance to tyranny.

        Paul writes, “If we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.  We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.  The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.  So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 6:8-11).

        Paul says that the sting of death is sin (1 Cor. 15:56).  As we observed previously, Death stings us by stirring up all kinds of sin within us--violence, despair, false religion, greed, sensuality, and much more.  Death, or the fear of death, gives evil its greatest power of intimidation.  It's as though the Devil has thrown a net over us, and the more we struggle to escape, the more entangled we become.

        The Son of God became human to share our mortality, so that “through his death he might destroy the Devil, who has the power over death, and in this way free those who were slaves all their lives because of their fear of death” (Heb. 2:14,15).  On the cross Jesus tasted death for every person.  His stark cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46) shows that he identified himself with us fully as he experienced our God-forsaken lostness.  He was abandoned to suffer the full force of human sin even though he had committed no sin.  But in doing this he destroyed death and gave eternal life to those who trust in him.

        Christ's resurrection is the breakthrough from the old age of darkness to the new age of light.  Now we are citizens of God’s domain, alive to God and dead to the powers that once held us.  Jesus lives on the other side of the cross, the man who abolished death.  He frees us from every false belonging so that we may belong to God alone.  That is why the Bible says that God’s love for us casts out all fear (1 John 4:18).

        During an early stage of the Protestant Reformation, Martin Luther was summoned to appear before the papal legate and answer for his faith.  The legate urged him to retract his teachings and warned him, “Don’t you realize that if the pope excommunicates you and puts you under the ban, you have no hope?  If the pope wiggles his little finger, you will be a dead man. And where you will be then?”  It is said that Luther calmly replied, “I will then be exactly where I am now, in the hands of Almighty God.”  Luther was aware that he lived under a new dominion where death was already defeated.  He had no reason to be afraid.

        When disciples of Jesus realize that they belong to the Lord of Life, they are imbued with a daring freedom.  Why not risk their lives for Christ if Christ is already their everlasting life? Why not give freely of their possessions if their future existence is guaranteed by the risen Jesus?  Why should they resort to violence to protect their lives when Jesus held the keys of death?  Why give up hope, even in the most distressing circumstances, when the ascended Christ has received all power in heaven and earth?  As G. K. Chesterton once noted, “A hopeless Christian is an oxymoron.”

        Some years ago a long-haired man with a pistol invaded the office of a friend of mine in Arizona. The intruder pointed the loaded gun at my friend’s head and said, “Tell me there is no God or I will pull the trigger.” My friend thought about the situation for a moment and then replied, “Now is the most important time for to assure you that there is a God.” The man dropped his gun and wept. He said, “I just wanted to find out if there is anyone who really believes there is a God.”

        Since Christ abolished death, the sins that death produced in us have been neutralized.  No longer must we be the puppets of death, manipulated by despair, materialism, or violence.  Even though we live for a while in a world where the old age and the new age collide, and though the tension is always difficult, we can already see in our risen Lord the final outcome of the conflict.  The Spirit has set us free to belong only to him who was dead but is alive forevermore (Revelation 1:17,18).  The Living One embraces us, and nothing can snatch us from his arms.  We stand under the protection of the Risen Lord!

Escape to Samara

Legend says it happened on the streets of Damascus.  One day a merchant sent his servant to the market.  When the servant returned he was shaking with fear.  He said to his master, “While I was at market, I was jostled by someone in the crowd.  When I turned I saw Death looking intently at me, and she made a threatening gesture.  Master, lend me your horse.  I will escape to the city of Samara where Death cannot find me.”

Later that day the merchant himself was at the market and spied Death in the crowd.  The merchant went over to interrogate him.  “Why did you make a threatening gesture toward my servant?” he demanded.  “That was no threatening gesture,” Death replied.  “It was simply a start of surprise.  I was startled to see your servant in Damascus, for, you see, we have an appointment tonight in Samara.”

Only a legend.  But like many folk tales, it contains a profound psychological insight.  The fear of death is the motivating force behind much human behavior.  Psychologist Ernest Becker, in his book The Denial of Death, points out that humans continually create strategies to keep death at bay.  It turns out that the tyranny of death is not limited to life’s end, but permeates deeply into life itself.

What are some of the ways we try to run away from death?  They include philosophies that deny the finality of death--such as spiritism, with its comforting claim that all who die automatically graduate to a higher plane of life where there is no such thing as divine judgment and from which they can communicate happy messages through channeling to those they left behind.  The main message is: “Death is nothing to worry about!”

Another strategy to repress the fear of death is materialism.  Like the rich farmer in Jesus’ parable, we build bigger barns to secure the future.  We think our growing investments and insurance policies will be a hedge against the undertaker by protecting us from recessions, unemployment, medical emergencies, and natural disasters.  We hope our fat pension plans will even buy us time when we retire.  But human history has proven time and again that such material security is fleeting.

To avoid the skull that keeps peeking in through the window, some turn to drugs, or become engrossed in a sensual lifestyle.  We live for the moment because we have no assurance of the future.  We pickle our brains with loud music and one-night stands and video games.  In popular movies and novels, death-defying heroes offer us another strategy to mask the fear of death.  The modern preoccupation with entertainment is a vain attempt to anesthetize us from the pain of mortality.

The obscene problem death poses for human aspirations is illustrated by a lengthy mathematical calculation that is finally multiplied by zero.  Why go to the trouble if the calculation ends in zero?  Anything that ends in nothing is itself nothing.  If we don’t repress our fear of death it leads to absolute despair.  The French painter, Gauguin, once painted the cycle of life.  He began with a beautiful young girl in the bloom of youth and continued until he pictured an old, emaciated and decrepit woman about to die, with a vulture circling overhead.  Struck with the seeming futility of existence, the artist attempted to commit suicide after completing the picture.

Without God’s intervention, death influences everything we do, hiding in depression, in hopelessness, and in the feeling that the universe is without purpose.  The power of death affects not only individuals, but whole societies and nations.  It leads nations to try to preserve themselves by pursuing insane and perpetual warfare.  All such attempts to flee the tyranny of death only prove that we are hopelessly dominated by it.  Regardless of the route we take from Damascus, it is ironic that death is controlling us like puppets.


But Jesus has brought immortality to light through the gospel.  He has good news for all who are fleeing on the road to Samara, and that is the theme of my next post.

Christ Our Righteousness

“Sin will have no dominion over you, since you are no longer under law but under grace.” --Romans 6:14

“There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus . . . . For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do.” --Romans 8:1-4

God's law is the standard of righteousness, but cannot produce righteousness.  Ironically, it has the opposite effect.  The law as a condemning power stirs up sin by pushing people either into despair (“I’m so messed up now there’s no use hoping for anything better, so I’ll just go deeper into sin”) or legalism (“I'm sure I can get a grip if I only try a little harder”).  When people realize their lives are not what they ought to be, they also feel a throbbing need for atonement.  Sometimes they try to satisfy this need by punishing themselves, and sometimes by blame-shifting and punishing others.  Either way, the law only makes sin worse.

The story of Martin Luther illustrates the bondage of guilt and the liberating power of God’s grace.  Luther was a religious neurotic, so curved in on himself in a vain attempt to establish his own righteousness that he had no time or energy to enjoy God and love his neighbor.  As a monk fasting in his cell, he literally almost killed himself trying to atone for his guilt.  Only the truth of justification by faith alone could liberate him to fulfill his God-given destiny, to become truly human.

His Commentary on Galatians reveals the new consciousness that released him from self-absorbed and law-focused religiosity: “When we truly see Christ, we have full and perfect joy in the Lord with peace of mind, and we think: Although I am a sinner by the Law and under condemnation of the Law, still I don’t despair, still I don’t die, because Christ lives, who is both my righteousness and my everlasting life.  I am indeed a sinner in this life of mine and in my own righteousness, as a child of Adam, where the Law accuses me, death controls me and eventually would destroy me.  But I have another life, another righteousness above this life which is in Christ, the Son of God, who knows no sin or death but is eternal righteousness and life.”

Luther is saying that internally we are sinners condemned by God's law, but that externally we have a complete righteousness before God in the person of Jesus who intercedes for us.  This paradoxical truth produced a famous slogan, “simul justus et peccator” (at the same time righteous and sinful), which has been a balm for many a struggling conscience.  Since Christ our righteousness is in heaven and we have peace with God through Christ's perfect atonement, we escape the bony clutches of legalism and despair and religious sado-masochism.

Christ’s death and resurrection has set us free from the Law as a condemning power.  The new consciousness that comes by faith sets us free from crippling guilt.  The power of the old age would cause me to say: “I’ve sinned. Again. For the umpteenth time. I’m trapped in my problem. I hate myself” or “This is all someone else's fault, and I'll make sure they pay the price.”  But the power of the new age that I appropriate by faith enables me to say: “There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus.  I am righteous because of his sacrifice.  I am not defined by my sin but by my relationship with Christ.  God accepts me by grace alone and gives me strength to overcome all obstacles.  Even in the midst of my struggles and failures, I am set free to love God and others.”  Paradoxically, it is only when we abandon our efforts to satisfy God's law that God fulfills his law within us.