13 March 2014

Slavery, Grace, and Usefulness

Onesimus was a slave who, after robbing his master Philemon at Colosse, fled to Rome, where he met the apostle Paul.  Under his teaching, Onesimus converted to Christianity.  After some time - and probably after some very difficult one-on-one discussions of what Onesimus needed to do - Paul sent him back to his master.  That's right.  He didn't petition Philemon to release his former slave and pardon him.  Instead, he beseeched Philemon to receive his slave back, but to consider him as a “faithful and beloved brother” - as a fellow brother and worshipper of Jesus Christ.  "Onesimus" literally means "useful" or "beneficial," and Paul's advocation on the runaway slave's behalf was that - although he had previously been useless - he would now live up to his namesake by fully offering his services to Philemon's house.  Additionally, Paul also offered to pay Philemon the amount of what had been stolen and to personally bear any other wrong Onesimus had done.

This passage of Scripture doesn't get a lot of attention unless it's from high-minded humanists who point to Paul's apparent support of the slave trade as proof that the Bible is an immoral and socially inapplicable document.  However, to the contrary, this issue of slavery is beautifully tied up in the statement the book of Philemon makes on God's grace.

There is a very real danger that lurks in interpreting Scripture through a cultural lens.  Because of our nation's history, we have a cultural understanding of slavery as an evil and cruel establishment by which the rich prosper and the enslaved suffer unspeakable wrongs, and we would be correct to remember it such.  However, we need to understand biblical slavery through their culture - not ours.  By that, I mean we can't take a cursory read of this passage and immediately judge Paul's actions as unjust because he apparently supported the institution of slavery and we understand it as evil.

There are a number of reasons why.

First of all, the biblical type of bondservant-hood to which Onesimus was committed was a gracious institution.  Slavery was designed to provide employment and protection for the poor - so that an individual owing an insurmountable debt could pay it off by working for his debtor (without pay) for an allotted period of time.  The grim alternatives included going to jail (possibly for life), having to sell members of his own family to fulfill the debt, and begging on the streets, where the individual could contract disease, be physically and emotionally abused, or even robbed of what meager possessions he still called his own.  Obviously, the options weren't good either way, but although the slaving lifestyle wasn't necessarily desirable it did provide a way for debt-forgiveness.

Before you say, "But doesn't the Bible teach an overall message of forgiveness?" remember that it also teaches personal responsibility: owning of our mistakes, confessing our wrongs, righting broken relationships, and repaying our debts.  There is as much responsibility on the part of a debtor to repay what he owed as there is on the slave master to be kind to his servants.  That is was why a better word for "slave" in the Bible is "bondservant," literally a committed slave.  Of course it would be convenient for everyone who was owed a debt to forgive it without being paid.  But realistically, not everyone is in the financial position to simply say, "You don't owe me anymore" - then or now.  There were no government bailouts in the biblical era, and therefore slavery was a means by which unpayable debts were handled.

Additionally, Mosaic law contained all sorts of provisions for protecting Jewish slaves from unfair treatment.  For example, a slave permanently maimed by his or her master was to be freed (Ex 21.26–27).  A fugitive slave was not to be extradited (Deut 23.15–16).  Foreigners could be enslaved permanently (e.g. through war, debt, etc), but they had the right to circumcision (Ex 12.44–48), Sabbath rest (Ex 20.10), and holidays (Deut 16.11, 14).  A slave owner who beat his slave to death was to be punished (Ex 21.20–21).  Furthermore, the law included the Year of Jubilee, in which "every Israelite who had sold himself because of poverty and remained unredeemed was to be freed along with his children (Lev 25.39–46).  The Year of Jubilee prevented the Israelites from oppression of one another (Lev 25.17) and gave everyone a chance for a new start.

Was the system harsh?  The answer is undoubtedly yes.  However, it exists for the same reason God allowed the Israelites the right to divorce, even though He hates it: they were going to do it anyway, and so there had to be rules to protect the individuals involved.  Of course, each system was still abused, and that was why many of the New Testament epistles include admonitions to slave owners to treat their slaves with kindness, but the fact of the matter is that man has always lived by the adage "rules are made to be broken."  Good things become bad things very quickly when we have no regard for the laws governing them.

Furthermore, slavery is very much a precursor of the modern-day employee/employer relationship.  We are all slaves to one thing or another.  You are a slave to your mortgage or your job in the same way one Israelite was slave to another for owing a debt.  Perhaps we have the choice in the modern era to quit these types of responsibilities, but even if that seems liberating it is only to our own personal detriment.  Bankruptcy, going upside-down on a home, failing to pay our taxes - these are harmful to our credit and our finances, and can result in mountains of fines and even jail time.  There's really not that much of a difference between our modern institutions and those of Mosaic slavery, save in the terminology.  Not unlike slave masters were often cruel to those in their ownership, we too are demeaned by unfair bosses, often have no say over deadlines and projects, are tasked with jobs we dislike, and can't choose to quit without risking financial instability or irreparably damaging our career.  In the most basic terms, we have a financial need that we cannot meet, so we sell ourselves to unfavorable conditions in order to obtain means that will satisfy that need.  In sum, slavery.

All that being said, here's the picture of grace which Onesimus' story - and slavery in general for that matter - provides.

We were dead in our trespasses before Christ gave us new life and purpose.  We owed him everything - a debt we could never repay.  Yet instead of laboring faithfully, we ran away, choosing to live as enemies with no interest in correcting the animosity between us and God.  We thought we were running to freedom, but really we were enslaving ourselves to a cruel taskmaster: our own sinful desires.  But then Christ came, offering himself as the full payment which we owed, bringing us Jubilee and setting us free of our bondage if we will only return to Him and give Him ourselves in wholehearted service - not because a debt still needs paying, but because we owe Him our lives anew.  In the same manner, Paul returned Onesimus to Philemon as a brother, redeemed, paying the slave's debt on his own account.  Just as the runaway slave was restored to his master, so are we restored to being part of God's kingdom.  Onesimus returned to his master's house, this time voluntarily, choosing to serve Philemon as before - except now for entirely different reasons.

"I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became in my imprisonment," Paul wrote to Philemon, who - by the way - was the a leader in a church body that met in his own house - the very congregation to which Onesimus was returning.  "Formerly, he was useless to you," Paul continued, "but now he is indeed useful to you and to me.  I am sending him back to you, sending my very heart."

We can get lost in arguments about social morality and why Paul would allow slavery to remain in Christian homes.  But that's not the point.  The point is that, despite our injustice, God remains faithful to us.  He meets us in our weakness and forgives us for robbing Him of our very hearts.  Now that we who believe have been redeemed - literally, "bought back" - we give our lives to Him in service.  Like Onesimus, we have become useful to Him through the stripes on the back of our Savior.

25 February 2014

Stepping Stones

On this day, two years ago, I stood before the woman who was about to become my wife.

There was a unique type of nervousness in my stomach as I removed from my breast pocket the crumpled paper with my vows, smoothing out the creases in them and in my thoughts.

It wasn't because there were over 300 of our friends and family assembled, watching us with eager expectation.  I've never really been a "crowd person," which is ironic since I play in a band, but in that moment, the people in the sanctuary didn't even exist.  The wedding party didn't exist.  It was just the two of us - me and Tara, standing in a spotlight suspended in the inky blackness of a vacuum.  She: lovely, young, and inimitably graceful in her wedding gown; me: lanky and somewhat groomed for a change, dressed in the wrinkled slacks that we (she) still lament(s) not ironing; she, smiling ear-to-ear; me, pensive but overjoyed.

It wasn't because what we were about to do would take wholehearted commitment.  The road to our wedding day had been an uphill affair, but the good kind - more a race against time than a trek through difficult terrain.  We had worked out all the details in two months, which was an insanely short engagement, but exactly what both of us wanted.  Why belabor what we were both ready to embrace?  The steps to approach the altar had been natural, transitional, and necessary.

I cleared my throat in that absolute silence, and this is what I said to my wife:

Tara, I think it’s safe to say that we’ve reached the point in our lives which we both doubted would come.  In the course of our story, we’ve spent time together, time apart, and time together once again.  God led each of us down unexpected paths, teaching us while we were apart to rely upon His sovereignty and to sacrifice what we want for what He requires - all in preparation for coming together once again.
Tara, I love you because you make me want to love Jesus more.  You have shown me over and over your strengths, your work ethic, your patience, and your indelible grace.  You have given yourself unerringly to serving me.  And so I stand before you today, right now, because I am ready and willing to dedicate my entire life to you.
 There are some things I’d like to covenant to do, today and forever, before all of our friends and family, and before God Himself.  Here goes.
Tara, I will seek to love you unconditionally, striving for patience and grace on the challenging days, and relishing the good days with joy. 
According to God's holy ordinance, I will cherish our love and friendship - for better or worse, for richer or poorer, and in sickness and in health - not because I have to, but because I choose to. 
I will live first for the glory of our Savior, so that you can do the same. 
I will partner with you on every task we undertake, not expecting more of you than I am willing to give myself. 
I will tell you when you’re wrong, because I need you to do the same for me. 
I will at least... try... to like country music.  Even though they all sound like Brad Paisley. 
I will seek to be an exemplary, Christ-minded leader to you and our future children.  All thirty-three of them. 
I will listen when you speak, weep when you weep, and rejoice when you rejoice, in the same way that God himself “bears our concerns on His heart.” 
Knowing that I will fail you, I promise to learn from my mistakes and do my best not to repeat them. 
Tara, I will provide for your needs, spiritually, physically, and emotionally.  I will protect, nurture, and sacrifice.  I will seek our best, and not my best.  I will always hold you when you need to cry. 

See, I wasn't nervous because I feared I couldn't fulfill these promises.  I knew even in that moment that I would fail and need forgiveness, but that's part of what marriage is.  Mistakes are just more stepping stones in the path across the river: only harmful if you don't move forward, because then your footholds begin to sink.

The truth is, I was nervous because this was truly the moment of becoming an adult.  18 and 21, first cars and first apartments, promotions and responsibilities - all of these mean nothing.  The moment a man takes his wife by the hand and steps up to the altar is the moment all childish things are truly left behind.  It is surrendering the "freedom" of singleness for the responsibility of togetherness.  It is surrendering "mine" for "ours."  It is humbling one's self to the point of being a full-time servant, the way Jesus did for us.

This is why I was nervous.  Because life was about to cease being about me, and I held a doctorate in selfishness.  I'd proven time and again that, although I claimed to love Christ above all else, I often yielded to my own desires before His.

But I wanted us.  In fact, I'd wanted us since I'd first met Tara - four years ago, across a breakup, tons of soul-searching, and ultimately getting back together once again.  We'd been through a lot - together and apart - and it had all lead to this joyful moment.

Stepping stones.

It's a journey we'll continue for the rest of our lives.  Except now we are blessed to travel the path together.

To close my vows, I sang this song.  It's nothing remarkable, but to us it is every bit the encapsulation of the promises we made each other on our wedding day.  I'd been working on the composition even before I asked her to marry me, and labored over the lyrics until the night before the wedding day itself.

This was how I sealed my vows, and continues to be a reminder of how I will strive to uphold them every day, every year, from now until death do us part.


Happy Anniversary, Tara.




~*~

If the thought had ever crossed your mind
It was just a guess, just a glimpse of time
We all know the servant rules the proud
The stoic breathes, the poet laughs out loud

But we
Are none of these
Are none of these

Patience is a virtue set in gold
The lesson learned; the joy to have, to hold
The more you have, the less that you will know
This periphery, or the warmth that fills your soul

We, oh we
Should know by now
Should know by now

We are waiting for our time
Time will always be ahead of us

This plan was never mine, I lost control
Our broken worlds, like sheep beyond the fold
But blessed are the ones who learn to mourn
You’re always beautiful in Sunday clothes

With God as our witness, and all of these
We stand as fractured jars, so incomplete
It's a mystery: these shards become as one
Let me carry you, and you can carry me

We, oh we
Have stood so long
Have stood for so long

We have waited for our time
The time has come to be
We have waited for You, Lord
You have always been
And You will always be
Beside us

~*~


20 February 2014

Forward-Thinking Spirituality

The blood drained from Saul's face so quickly he felt lightheaded.  Behind him, he could still hear the confused murmur of the crowds and his soldiers, although it suddenly seemed to be at a distance.

The victory parade had come to an unscheduled halt in the streets of Gilgal when Samuel had appeared out of the crowd, dressed like a beggar in his threadbare traveling cloak, but immediately recognizable as the Man of God.  Upon seeing the old prophet, an immediate sense of worry had begun clawing at Saul's guts.  Even though he knew he'd done nothing wrong, something told him that Samuel had come to rebuke him once again.  Harbinger of doom, that one.  Their relationship had been rocky at best since the sacrifice Saul had made on this very location at the darkest point of the war with the Philistines.  Admittedly, he'd acted hastily on that occasion, and he fully acknowledged that, but he still felt that the decision had been necessary and that Samuel had been too harsh.  The old man often took the Lord's word too seriously - too literally.

The conversation did not begin well.  Samuel seemed to think that Saul had not fulfilled the commandment that the Lord had given - to completely destroy the Amalekites and all their possessions.  Saul knew that he was working a loophole as far as the cattle were concerned, but he couldn't believe that God and Samuel both couldn't overlook such a little detail when the overall objective had been accomplished.  Enough slaughter had been done for one day.  Even he, Saul - a man of battle and carnage - thought so.  The Amalekites were beaten and their king was now Israel's prisoner of war.

And then, Samuel delivered the message he'd brought from the Lord, and the bottom fell out of Saul's stomach.

"W-what?" he stammered, searching Samuel's eyes for some sign of compassion, but the old prophet's face remained bowstring taught - full of anger, full of remorse.

"Because you have rejected the word of the Lord," Samuel said slowly, "he has also rejected you from being king."

The pronouncement felt like judgment.

Saul knew that his mouth was hanging open.  He felt the fury growing in the pit of his stomach - the fury of disbelief, the fury of acute unfairness.  Hadn't he done what was asked of him?  He'd sacrificed the lives of his own soldiers to defeat the enemies of Israel, but that wasn't enough?  The Lord's commands were impossible, then!

At the same time as he burned with rage, Saul began to feel the chill of dread sinking into his belly.  He has also rejected you from being king, Samuel had said.  What exactly did that mean?

"I - I have sinned," Saul said haltingly.  Was that what Samuel wanted?  A confession?  God forgave sins, right?  Maybe there was a way to rectify the situation.  "I have transgressed the Lord's command.  I gave the people what they wanted - hard-earned spoils for themselves and... and cattle for sacrifices!"

If Saul had hoped that last detail would ease the tension, he was sadly mistaken.  Something in Samuel's dark eyes seemed to break, like the snap of a twig that gives the hunter away.  It was like confirmation.  He said nothing.

Saul continued, more desperately this time.  "Please, Samuel - please pardon my sin and come with me to offer a sacrifice so that I can worship the Lord."

"I will not."  The old man's face crinkled with what could only be grief.  "You have rejected the Lord, Saul.  So the Lord has rejected you."

Without another word, the prophet turned to go.

The boiling rage made Saul act without thought.  Before he realized it, he had lunged at the old man and seized him by the cloak.

"Don't turn your back on me!" he roared.  "I am still the anointed king!"

Samuel responded, whirling back to face him.  As he turned, the fabric in Saul's grasp tore violently, travel-worn as the robe was from Samuel's repeated journeys from Mizpah to Gilgal.  The sight of the torn material halted Saul in his tracks.  In that moment, despite the untold horrors of war he'd witnessed, the frayed edges of the Samuel's robe were suddenly the most grotesque and terrifying sight he'd ever seen - the lips of a gaping wound, the worst he'd ever inflicted.

"The Lord has torn the kingdom of Israel from you!" Samuel shouted, brandishing the torn edges of his robe at the disgraced king.  His voice was harsh and unsteady with emotion - fury or grief or both, Saul couldn't tell.  "He has given it instead to someone more worthy, Saul.  The Lord of Israel does not lie or have regrets, for He is not a man."

He left the statement ragged, as though implying the very words that Saul formed in his own mind: You, on the other hand....

~*~

Samuel's robe tears in Saul's grasp, foreshadowing the inevitable result of his disobedience

Saul's unfortunate story is representative of generations of people who have tried to follow God's command without fully giving their hearts to Him.  These individuals go through the religious motions, filling their agendas with ministry and obedience to God's commands at their own convenience, missing all along the fact that the Lord delights in the condition of their hearts over the quantity of their sacrifices (1 Sam 15.22).  However, God has always raised up leaders who have understood Him and His grace in a way the rest of their contemporaries have not.

The fact that the Lord desires worshipers who rend their hearts in sincerity, not their clothes in bathetic display (Joel 2.13), was undeniably harder to understand through the restrictions of the Mosaic law than through the gospels.  The law, after all, was designed to illustrate the impossibility of holiness, because sin makes it impossible to please God.  However, the point behind the whole process was to show the Israelites their need for God and to teach them dependence upon Him.  Yet while the rest of the nation was caught up in the methodology of sacrifice and ritual, of keeping every command down to the letter, there remained forward-thinking men and women who were able to understand so clearly this message of grace which God had offered from the very beginning.

These were the ones who earned their places in the Hall of Faith for the purity of their worship and their desire to please God above all else.  These were the men and women who were content to live in tents during their sojourn in this world, and to "die in faith," as Hebrews 11.13 puts it, "not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth."  These were individuals who saw what God truly promised - beyond the promised land of Israel, beyond the promise of Zion's protection, beyond the promised generations to come.  Moses chose to be "mistreated with the people of God [rather] than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.  He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward" (Heb 11.25).  Abraham was promised a nation as his descendants, and a matchless land as their inheritance, and he lived to see neither promise realized.  Even Rahab, a prostitute in a Canaanite nation, saw what wondrous works the God of Israel was doing, and her heart was drawn to him, awakening within her a faith that would save not only her life but also those of her family.  All of these individuals lived by faith regardless of their circumstances, and regardless of the consequences, because faith recognizes the possibility of unmet desires while relying on the unfailing promise of God's faithfulness.

And then there were men and women like Saul.

These are the men and women who have lived by their own religious standards, with the mentality that they are owed something for their faithful service and who are offended when they receive none.  These are the individuals who redefine faith depending on convenience, their generation, and their own terms.  They forget that it is impossible to please God without biblical faith and instead rely upon something more certain to them - their own morality, logic, and opinions.  The real issue is that their hearts, like Saul's, are far from God, even though their actions may correspond to the commands of Scripture - even though they may daily study the Word of God with a magnifying glass.  These are the individuals who can justify any action, who fail to be grieved by their own sin, who instead see themselves in the light of personal validation.  They don't exercise faith.  In fact, they don't even think much about the future at all, because they are absorbed in the now - in their current struggles, their current situations, their current possessions.

Saul was a people-pleaser.  He was wrapped up in his own self-worth.  He was jealous, impetuous, and angry.  He had no faith in God - in His timing, in His deliverance, in His commands.  Of course, he claimed to acknowledge all of these things, yet chose to interpret them according to his own standards.

Whom are we more like?

We who live in the modern era have the wonderful privilege of the completed Scriptures to enlighten our thinking.  We have the luxury of understanding grace through the manifested Christ.  It should be, I daresay, easier for us as believers today, because - as the apostle Peter asserted - we have something "more fully confirmed" in which to place our faith: the Word of God revealed.  But are we forward-thinking in our day, the way Moses and Abraham and David were in theirs?  Are we content with what we have, or are we insatiably greedy for more of God, ever looking forward to the time in which we will cross Jordan's stormy banks and rest in our Father's bosom?  Do we live to die in faith, recognizing that we still only live in tents - that our home is still on the other side, and that we might not see our hopes and dreams fulfilled in this life?

We should maintain the patriarchs' forward-thinking spirituality and live in joyful anticipation of our Savior's return.  We should be "ahead of our time" the way they were, giving our hearts fully to God in order to give Him the type of sacrifice He truly desires.
Micah 6.8: "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?"