"That also is a mystery..."

"So there was a division among the people because of Him." John 7:43

John 7:2 through 10:21 chronicles the events surrounding Jesus' visit to the temple at Jerusalem during the Feast of Tabernacles. Many notable events occur, containing several reoccurring themes. John 7:43, however, captures one of the most interesting themes, a theme whose implications are highly important.
It is an error to claim that Jesus was an enigma to only one group of people. The truth of the Gospels (esp. John) is that Jesus was an enigma to everyone. Of course, the Pharisees did not get Him, but neither did His family, or His disciples, or the Jews, or the Gentiles, or the woman caught in adultery, or the man born blind. From the highest rungs of political and religious power, to the lowest dregs of societal outcasts, the theme was the same: Jesus astounded and confounded; and all the while (esp. John 7:2-10:21), Jesus continued to hammer another theme essential to the former: (1) I am of God; (2) anyone who is of God gets me; (3) if you don't get me, then you are not of God. Even that bit of logic escaped them (John 8).
Perhaps these two intrinsically linked themes (Jesus' enigma caused by being from God) is what Paul was trying to express by the whole "conform/transform" dichotomy (Rom. 12:2). Jesus seemed to express the same thing in John 15:19: "If ye were of the world, the world would love its own; but because ye are not of the world (because I have chosen you out of the world), therefore the world hateth you." The author of Hebrews shares the same sentiment with their image of "strangers and pilgrims on the earth" (Heb. 11:13-14), and John adds his own voice when he said, "We are of God: he that knoweth God heareth us; he that is not of God heareth us not" (I John 4:6a). There seems to be an assumption in Scripture that those who are "of God" through Christ are necessarily a strange bird to everyone else. Some Rubicon has been crossed. Our relation to the world and its people has changed, and it will not and cannot be the same ever again; for we are no longer of this world (John 17:16).
Hence comes the frustrating tension of the "in the world but not of it" scenario, and the battles lines over this issue are drawn deep. Factions vary, but most can be safely grouped into two camps. One camp (we shall call them "Relevantists") claims (quite truthfully) that people are weary of an impersonal and sloganeering Christianity, detached from their lives and concerns; the truths of God must matter to them (who they are and where they are) before they will accept them. This particular camp condemns their opponents of being too aloof and "hands-off". Their favorite words of commendation are "real," "relevant," and "authentic"; their favorite words of condemnation are "Pharisaical," "fake," and "disingenuous". Meanwhile, the other camp (we shall call them "Sanctificationists") claims (again, quite truthfully) that we are clearly called to "be holy" as God "is holy," and to be bound up in the trappings and garb of the world will corrupt us and subsequently ruin our evangelism; the world needs and seeks holiness, and if we do not emit holiness then we have nothing to offer them. This particular camp condemns their opponents of being too down-and-dirty and "hands-on". Their favorite words of commendation are "godliness," "holiness," and "holy"; their favorite words of condemnation are "worldly," "fleshly," and "carnal".
Both sides equally claim that their way is the "Christ-like" way and that the other's way will (and is) sabotage and destroy the Christian mission. The rest of us are caught in the middle of these two trends, pulled by each side's truths and repelled by their errors. We do feel the necessity of relevance and honesty, yet feel that our Relevantist brothers and sisters are a bit too comfortable with the world. Likewise, we do feel the necessity of holiness and separation, yet feel that our Sanctificationist brothers and sisters are a bit too disconnected with the world. Thus, the frustrating tension continues without a resolution.
Oh, and guess what? Jesus does not help us on this point. He is still confounding, especially since both Relevantists and Sanctificationists quote Him to prove (and quite clearly prove) their respective cases! Jesus ate with sinners; He also met with Nicodemus. He argued against the unbelief of the Pharisees and the common folk, and thus committed Himself to no one. He told the woman at the well, a Samaritan and enemy, strange thoughts and astounding knowledge; and she believed, and He welcomed her. Yet this same Jesus told a rich young ruler, a man eager and ready to follow Him, strange thoughts and astounding knowledge; but the man went away, and Jesus did not go after Him. His enemies were divided over Him, but so where His own disciples. The self-righteous could not understand Him, but neither did the broken and downcast. Neither Relevantists and Sanctificationists nor any other group can claim Jesus as solely theirs. It is as if He belongs to no one but Himself. He is untouchable, as if the understood arrangement is "He does not belong to you; you belong to Him."
It seems to me (an admittedly unlearned man of faith and the Faith) that all of the movements and groups that try to make Jesus their "example" (a better word would be "mascot") are merely committing the unintentionally yet rather serious error of trying to completely rationalize and categorize what is inherently mysterious. The life of a Christian is the life of Christ, and the life of Christ is the life of God; and the life of God--that triune dance, that sovereign power so great that it can allow for free agents and yet cause no injury to its omnipotence, that love and wrath burning and boiling to their uttermost side by side, that immutable yet jealous zeal, the life of God--is inherently mysterious. It is with that life that we are made one in Christ (John 17:20-23). Why, then, do we act like we should make sense?
Madeleine L'Engle quoted some Cardinal (I forget his name) as saying that we are to live in such a way that our lives would make no sense if there was no God. I think that about perfectly sums it up. Jesus frustrated the logic and sensibilities of everyone, and the end result was either (1) they collapsed with their logic, or (2) their logic collapsed and they could finally see the truth (Matt. 21:42-44). Are we not called to be made into the same image? We are the living mysteries: we touch and yet are untouchable; so very real and yet so unreal. We frustrate and confound, yet none can turn away. Something within us burns with a fervent heat and living light, something that equally appalls and attracts. That something is not our charm and honesty, our righteousness and godliness; it is the life of the living God, surging through us like electricity through a conduit. At least, that is how it should be. For now, most of us (if not all of us) are tangled up in our own misconceptions and subsequent inconsistencies and inadequacies, faithfully missing the point and the mark. Yet God's grace fills up the crack of our imperfects, and makes (and is making) us what we ought to be. That also is a mystery, a great and beautiful one; let us leave it at that.

-Jon Vowell

Love and Righteousness

"Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of Thy name; and deliver us and purge away our sins, for Thy name's sake...and render unto our neighbors sevenfold into their bosom their reproach, wherewith they have reproached Thee, O Lord." Ps. 79:9, 12

Redemption and damnation, salvation and judgment, love and righteousness; whichever way that you put it, these are the two arms of God's government, two of the most essential qualities of His character. It is these two qualities that are the most sorely attacked today by the religious and secular alike.
We hate the love of God as Scripture presents it, i.e., a holy love that desires to make lovable and lovely the hateful and ugly beloved. It is less like Romeo and Juliet and more like The Taming of the Shrew. It is a love that will not tolerate any stain or blemish, not matter how much we tolerate or even cherish it. We despise such a heavy-handed and true love, so we boil God's love down into either a fluffy sentimentalism that means absolutely nothing or a cruel toleration that winks at the damnation of a soul out of fear of being labelled "mean," "insensitive," or other useless buzz words of contemporary society. The love of God is a consuming fire: all that is imperfect will burn away.
Likewise, we hate the righteousness of God because it directly conflicts with our damnable version of the love of God. If our supreme deity is to be sentimental and tolerant, then He must necessarily not be moral. The sentimental and tolerant man suffuses all things into an incomprehensible whole; the moral man sets everything in rigid distinctions, distinctions like right and wrong, good and evil. Such distinctions are inherent in true righteousness, and thus righteousness is an insufferable eye-sore to the modern world (esp. Modern Christendom). Consequently, they choose not to talk about it; it is too much of a landmine. The righteousness of God is a consuming fire: all that is imperfect will burn away.
If we are to remain loyal to God and His revelations of Himself, then we must maintain the reality of His holy character, i.e., the fullness and harmony of His qualities, viz., love and righteousness. The world does not need sentimental toleration, a fluffy cruelty that "loves" it by amassing it into a pile of indistinguishable nothingness that it can safely ignore; what the world needs is a holy and true love and righteousness that burns away our impurities and makes us fit for itself.

-Jon Vowell

Commentary on "The Gospel in the Context of the Trinity"

From a discussion between fellow believers on Facebook:

Bro S asked: "Do you think God can commune with people who are 'positionally' righteous (i.e., righteous in Christ) but not personally righteous (i.e., righteous in their own actions)?"

JLV responds: Being positionally righteous is what gives you the power and motive force (i.e., the indwelling Holy Spirit) to be personally righteous. If you have a complete lack of personal righteousness, I would question your positional righteousness.
Still, I understand and agree with you that are actions can affect our communion with God, but only as a hindrance or a help; they can neither abolish nor establish it. Christ's Atonement makes you positionally righteous, and thus reestablishes the communion man lost at the Fall. Your personal righteousness only serves to strengthen or weaken (or keep stagnant) that communion.

Bro JS asked: "Can one be 'personally' righteous in this life?"

JLV responds: We can be "personally" righteous, but only because we have been made "positionally" righteous. Remember, any righteous action we do is not us, but God working in and through us.

Bro JE asked: "Just curious about your phrase 'but are destined to stay separate from Him forever, which is the true meaning of Hell.' I understand that separation from God is part of hell, but there is a definite punitive aspect of hell, and that punishment must be meted out. That punishment only intensifies the abandonment...or the abandonment intensifies the punishment. They go hand in hand."

JLV responds: I do believe that there is a punitive aspect to Hell, and that the punishment and abandonment go hand in hand. However, I've believe that the punishment and abandonment are so hand in hand that they are one and the same.
For me, 'separation from God' is not merely a separation in regards to proximity (i.e., God's here and you're there). It is a complete severance from all that is good in the universe (i.e., God). God is the source of (and His very nature is made up of) all good things (e.g. the fruits of the Spirit). To separate from Him is to be separate from those things and bound to their opposites.
God is light; to be separate from Him is to know only darkness. God is love; to be separate from Him is to know only hatred. God is peace; to be separate from Him is to know only confusion and chaos. God is joy; to be separate from Him is to know only sorrow. Etc., etc. My definition of Heaven is absolute communion (i.e., complete unification) with God; thus, my definition of Hell is absolute communion (i.e., complete unification) with not-God. To be bound in an intimate and total way to God is heaven; to be bound in an intimate and total way to everything God is not is hell.
Therefore, the abandonment is the punishment because it is a complete severance from God and thus a complete unification with all He is not (e.g., darkness, hatred, chaos, sorrow, etc.). When we desire God, our desire becomes our reward; when we desire not-God, our desire becomes our punishment.