The Penitent Thief: Why His faith Was Great

One of the most remarkable passages in the Holy Week Gospel narratives regards the responses to Jesus on the part of the two criminals crucified on either side of him. Luke gives us this account:

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”

Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Lk 23:39-43)

It is clear from Jesus’ response to the second criminal that this man has been forgiven and will not be condemned in the afterlife. Some people might find this disturbing, since this man has demonstrated relatively little faith and repentance, which are crucial to a biblical concept of salvation. But there are several things to note about the faith of this penitent thief on the cross.

For one thing, he declares his faith in Christ publicly, and as Jesus said in one of his earlier discourses, “Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven” (Mt. 10:32). Secondly, the thief demonstrates genuine repentance, acknowledging his life of sin when he says “we are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.” As is clear from Scripture, there is no salvation without repentance (cf. Acts 2:38), so it is crucial that this man demonstrate true penitence. Although his remaining time on earth was very short at this point, he repented to the extent that he was still capable of doing so.

Thirdly, the penitent thief declares his faith in opposition to his fellow thief, who
“hurled insults” at Jesus. Apparently, the penitent thief himself had also verbally abused Jesus, given Matthew’s crucifixion account, where we read that just as the chief priests and teaches of the law mocked Jesus, “in the same way the robbers who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him” (Mt. 27:44). So after initially joining his fellow thief in mocking Jesus, the penitent thief had a change of heart, culminating in his plea to Jesus to remember him in the next world.

Fourthly, the penitent thief declares his faith that Jesus is indeed a king, citing Jesus’ coming “kingdom.” This he does despite Jesus’ extreme humiliation, having been beaten to a bloody pulp, and now writhing on a cross with a sign above his head mocking the very idea regarding which this thief is testifying sincere belief. Perhaps at this time even Jesus’ own disciples, who, with the exception of John, had by this time scrambled into hiding, would have been rather skeptical of Jesus’ messianic kingship. But not this penitent thief. He believed despite all appearances to the contrary. Now that is faith.

Should Christians be Winsome?

During these days of division and discord one often hears admonitions that Christians be “winsome” in their speaking, writing, and interaction with others. For example, look here, here, and here. In some cases I have heard fellow Christians advocate for winsomeness as if it were a fruit of the Spirit or even a cardinal virtue.

It is important to achieve clarity about what it means to be winsome and when it is appropriate, because calls to winsomeness are increasingly common and often function as conversation killers. Such admonitions can be disingenuous, content-dodging tactics as opposed to sincere pleas for virtue. In a post-truth culture—as some have described contemporary American society—the substance of an assertion may be deemed less important than how it is said. A focus on process may stand in the way of actual communication about content and real insights about issues and solutions to problems.

So what does it mean to be winsome? The American Heritage Dictionary defines winsome as “charming, often in a childlike or naïve way.” According to the Cambridge Dictionary, to be winsome is to be “charming and attractive in a simple way.” And the Oxford Dictionary says a winsome person is “attractive and pleasing with simple qualities.” Other lexicographical accounts associate winsomeness with such qualities as sweetness, gentility, or an engaging presence. Let’s keep these traits in mind as we consider whether we should consider winsomeness to be a Christian virtue.

 

Was Jesus Winsome?

When considering the appropriateness of any character trait for Christians, perhaps the first question to ask is whether Jesus Christ himself displayed the trait. After all, Christians are called to emulate Christ (1 Cor. 11:1). He is our moral exemplar. But when we search the Gospel narratives, what do we find? Surely, Jesus was often winsome in his interactions with some people, especially the humble, needy, and disabled. You might say that with those who were humble, meek, and repentant, he showed himself to be humble and meek, from his interactions with children (Mark 10) to his healings of the sick (Luke 4-5; Mt. 8-9) to the mercy he showed the adulterous woman (John 8) and the humble thief on the cross (Luke 23). But the traits he displayed in his interactions with the proud, haughty, and deceitful were quite a different matter. On these and other occasions Jesus often proved to be harsh, confusing, cryptic, and judgmental—in short, rather unwinsome. To illustrate with some examples, Jesus was not particularly winsome when:

  • he cleared the temple court with a whip and overturned tables (John 2)
  • he pronounced woes on the rich, well fed, and jubilant (Luke 6);
  • he invited people to eat his flesh and drink his blood (John 6);
  • he called the Pharisees harsh names such as “fools,” “liars,” “snakes,” “vipers,” “blind guides,” “whitewashed tombs,” and “hypocrites” and declared that they were greedy, self-indulgent, and wicked sons of the devil who “do not belong to God” (John 8; Mt. 23);
  • he said, “whoever has will be given more; whoever does not have, even what they think they have will be taken from them” (Luke 8);
  • he pronounced woes on the cities of Chorazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum (Mt. 11);
  • he called the people an “unbelieving and perverse generation” (Luke 9);
  • he said to one of his followers, whose father had recently died, “let the dead bury their own dead” (Luke 9);
  • he said he came to bring fire on earth and to bring not peace but division, even within families (Luke 12);
  • he referred to Canaanite people as “dogs” (Mt. 15);
  • he said to Peter, “get behind me, Satan” (Mt. 16);
  • he repeatedly preached on and warned of hell for the unrepentant, unforgiving and even the wealthy (Mt. 18, etc.)
  • he cursed a fig tree (Mt. 21); and
  • he pronounced woes on the Pharisees and the teachers of the law (Luke 11; Mt. 23), and when one of the Pharisees said he felt insulted by what Jesus was saying (Luke 11:45), Jesus doubled down with more woes, culminating in the assertion that that generation would be held responsible for all of the murders of prophets in all previous generations (Luke 11:50).

This is not exactly the stuff of winsomeness.

 

The Apostles

Next, we may ask whether the apostles and biblical writers were winsome. Starting with the Apostle Paul, clearly he was winsome in many of his writings, particularly in the salutations and closing remarks of his epistles, as well as, for example, in his beautiful discourse on love in 1 Corinthians 13 and throughout much of the book of Ephesians. In many other places, however, his tone is stunningly harsh, particularly when correcting doctrinal errors and rebuking people for various sins. For instance, in the book of Titus, Paul condemns the legalism of “the circumcision group,” and about them he writes, “One of Crete’s own prophets has said it: ‘Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.’ This saying is true. Therefore rebuke them sharply, so that they will be sound in the faith” (Titus 1:12-13). And in his letter to the Galatians he says about these same people, “I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves!” (Gal. 5:12).

In several of his epistles, Paul strikes a very severe tone regarding believers who were either acting immorally or condoning sin. To believers in Corinth, he said, “you must not associate with anyone who claims to be a brother or sister but is sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or slanderer, a drunkard or swindler. Do not even eat with such people.” (1 Cor. 5:11). And in one of his letters to the church at Thessalonica, he gave a strong warning against idleness, recommending that if anyone is unwilling to work, then he should not eat (2 Thess. 3:10). In that same letter, Paul recommended a severe response to those who did not heed his instructions, saying “Do not associate with them, in order that they may feel ashamed” (2 Thess. 3:14).

As for Peter, his letters are also marked by stern instructions, strong rebukes, and harsh warnings. In one of his letters he castigates false teachers in the harshest terms, warning that they will be condemned (2 Pet. 2:3). He goes on to call them “slaves of depravity” who are “an accursed brood” that “are like unreasoning animals, creatures of instinct, born only to be caught and destroyed” (2 Pet. 2:12). James, too, sometimes strikes a severe tone. In his epistle he refers to his readers as “foolish” and “adulterous,” and he issues an especially harsh remonstration to wealthy people when he says, “The cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord Almighty. You have lived on earth in luxury and self-indulgence. You have fattened yourselves in the day of slaughter. You have condemned and murdered the innocent one, who was not opposing you” (James 5:4-6).

 

When to be Winsome?

This is just a sampling of instances in which Jesus and the Apostles are not winsome but, in fact, quite the opposite—stern, severe, harsh, judgmental, and even offensive to their hearers and readers. And we could enumerate myriad similar instances of unwinsome words and behaviors of the Old Testament patriarchs and prophets. Add to this the fact that nowhere in Scripture are we instructed to be attractive, charming, sweet, or genteel. Perhaps the closest we can come to finding a biblical endorsement of winsomeness is in Galatians 5:23, where Paul includes “gentleness” in his list of the “fruit of the Spirit” or moral virtues. But the fact that Paul himself is often quite the opposite of gentle—including in that very same epistle—shows that this trait is not, as Kant would say, a “perfect duty” for Christians—it is not the sort of moral virtue for which there are no appropriate exceptions. There is a time for gentleness, and there is a time for toughness and even severity.

Another biblical defense of winsomeness might be made based on the fact that Jesus strongly encourages childlikeness, a trait that is associated with winsomeness. In fact, Jesus says, “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 18:3). So isn’t this essentially an endorsement of winsomeness? First, it is important to note the context of this passage. Here Jesus is responding to the disciples’ question about who will be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. In the parallel passage in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus says, “it is the one who is least among you all who is the greatest” (Luke 9:48), which suggests that his main point concerns the virtue of humility, as opposed to simplicity, much less the sort of charming naïvete that is often associated with winsomeness. Secondly, some commentators interpret Jesus’ idealization of children here as having mainly to do with the attitude of trust that we are to place in him, a readiness to believe and submit to the authority of God just as a child trusts her parents and naturally recognizes their authority. Other commentators, such as Johannes Weiss, have suggested that what Jesus had in mind when he set up children as a model in Matthew 18 is their directness, lack of self-consciousness, and their especially keen perception regarding certain matters which are often lost on adults. In any case, even if Jesus did mean to endorse winsomeness with this teaching, he cannot have intended this to be a perfect duty, admitting of no exceptions, since he himself was often quite unwinsome, as we have already seen.

So what are we to conclude from all of this? I would say that while winsomeness does seem to be an admirable trait in many contexts, it is not a trait that Scripture recognizes as a moral virtue. This is evidenced by several facts. First, there are no biblical commands to be winsome. Secondly, Jesus acts and speaks on many occasions in very unwinsome ways. Thirdly, many biblical writers, in both the Old and New Testaments, often write in very unwinsome ways. This suggests that, like so many human personality traits and modes of conduct, the appropriateness of a winsome manner or style crucially depends upon the social context or situation. Sometimes, perhaps most of the time, it is indeed good to be winsome. But on certain occasions it is also appropriate not to be winsome. Sometimes it is good to be stern or severe rather than gentle and sweet. Sometimes it is appropriate to speak or write in cryptic or complicated terms rather than to be simple and childlike. And sometimes it is even okay to be harsh, offensive, or off-putting rather than charming or attractive.

Of course, this raises the critical question, when is it appropriate to be winsome and when is it appropriate not to be? Like any serious, substantive question regarding the moral life, this calls for wisdom and cannot be answered with a simple formula or algorithm. But we might be able to glean one general guideline from the psalmist who says of the Lord, “to the pure you show yourself pure, but to the devious you show yourself shrewd” (Ps. 18:26). This passage is itself somewhat cryptic (and thus unwinsome!), but one thing we can gather from it is that God’s responses to people vary according to the purity of their own hearts. This might also explain Jesus’ own varying treatment of people, as he is typically direct and straightforward with those who approach him with pure, sincere, humble hearts. But those who are devious, presumptuous, and arrogant he treats very differently. Indeed, if we look back through the above list of instances in which Jesus behaves unwinsomely, it is usually in response to such people, especially the Pharisees and teachers of the law. So the lesson we might draw from this is that in our own dealings with people it is often appropriate and desirable to be winsome—perhaps usually so. But when dealing with the deceitful, insincere, presumptuous, or arrogant it might likewise be appropriate or even most advisable to be stern, severe, cryptic, off-putting, or even harsh—in a word, to be unwinsome. Indeed, such a response might constitute truly gracious speech, depending on the context.

A Christmas Day Reflection

On this Christmas day I have been reflecting on our unity in Christ, which seems increasingly threatened by divisions within the American Church, especially due to disagreements over political issues. This prompted me to think about the following possibility. Suppose, upon our arrival in the Next World, we ask Jesus, “Who was right regarding those early 21st century American political issues which divided us so much, even those of us who followed you, Lord? Was it the conservatives or the progressives?” What if Jesus replies, “Both sides were right and wrong about many things” and then he proceeds to itemize the insights and errors on both sides, to which we respond by saying, “Wow, it’s all so clear now. Why didn’t we see this during those days when we were so caught up in all of those political squabbles?” Then what if He says, “because it was not my will that you would see these things clearly but rather to test you and mature you through such disagreements. Those issues, vital and important as they were, served primarily as means of interpersonal engagement, to catalyze the forging of your souls, to build virtues of patience, generosity, perseverance, humility, and grace. In short, your political debates functioned as props on the stage of human life, the main focus of which was always about making you all more like me, though even you, my precious children, at times lost sight of this. But don’t worry about it, guys. For all is well now. And all manner of things is well.”

What if that is how it will go down in the Next World? And suppose we somehow could know now that this was God’s main purpose regarding all of the political strife which currently grips our nation. How might this change the way we approached all of these divisive issues?

Jesus Christ, Our Celibate Lord

Our culture treats sex like its oxygen or food—as if it were something one needs to survive.  In fact, sex isn’t necessary for survival, nor is it even necessary for the good life.  Even the philosophical father of hedonism, Epicurus, understood this.  But, alas, American culture is far more hedonistic than even the ancient Greek hedonists.

What sex is necessary for is procreation and marital unity.  But one need not participate in either of those things to live and to live well.  This is most evident in the life of Christ.  Jesus lived as a virgin.  He died a virgin.  He rose again a virgin.  And he lives forever as a fully exemplary human being . . . as a virgin.  Jesus Christ is our eternal, celibate Lord.

Let that sink in.

From this it is clear that the celibate life is not unhealthy or even less than ideal.  Rather, the Ideal Man lived a thoroughly celibate life.  We live in a culture which constantly contradicts this by insisting that sex is necessary for a happy and fulfilled life.  In fact, it tells us that the choice for celibacy is somehow unhealthy or unreasonable.  (Ironically, that view itself is unhealthy and unreasonable.)  And because that claim implies Jesus was unfulfilled, unhealthy, and unreasonable, it is deeply anti-Christian.

Yet many Western Christians give sexual pluralists a pass on their assumption that we all need sex.  That we all must have sex to be happy.  Why?  Probably because we have lived so long in a hyper-sexualized and pornified culture that we’ve interiorized some of its assumptions, including this one.  Consequently, in public discussions of sexual orientations and same-sex marriage, you seldom hear Christians confidently declare that celibacy is a reasonable and positive option.  It’s as if we are ashamed to admit this biblical and anthropological fact.

But refusal to stand by this truth is to deny that Christ himself was the Ideal Man.  It is to deny that the Apostle Paul spoke the truth when he declared celibacy to be a gift (1 Cor. 7:7-8).  And it is an insult to millions of Christians around the world who practice celibacy either by choice or by necessity (due to physical disability or lack of a marriage partner, in spite of their desire for such).  So let us be careful to respect Jesus, respect Scripture, and respect our celibate fellow Christians by honoring the high calling of celibacy.

Please keep this in mind the next time you hear someone talking about sex as if it were a basic human need or a necessary ingredient in a fulfilled life.  Even if you lack the courage to correct them on this important point, at least remind yourself that they are rejecting an important biblical teaching.

In many ways, ours is a post-Christian culture, and nowhere is this more evident than in the area of human sexuality.  As Christians, let us remain true to Scripture and the plain facts of human nature regarding this issue and thus honor Jesus Christ, our celibate Lord.

The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived

Today we celebrate the birthday of Jesus of Nazareth, widely considered the greatest man who ever lived. His teachings are arguably the most profound, insightful and challenging the world has ever seen. He has inspired countless universities, hospitals, and ministries to the sick, poor, and oppressed. He has inspired the world’s greatest literature, art, and music, not to mention the greatest theological treatises and much of the greatest philosophy in history. He has also inspired countless followers to make extreme sacrifices, many even literally giving up their lives, in his service. So great is his influence on human history, in fact, that this itinerant teacher became the reference point for the world’s dating system. That’s remarkable stuff for a man who never held a political office, never led an army, never authored any books or even a single essay, nor did he even travel more than a few hundred miles from his hometown.

So how did he manage to so profoundly impact human history? For Christians, of course, the answer is that Jesus wasn’t just the greatest man who ever lived. He was something far more than this.

“Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy. To the only wise God our Savior, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.” (Jude 1:24-25)

The Fates of Jesus Killers

It is interesting to note the fates of those who would destroy Jesus Christ. These included Herod the Great, Judas Iscariot, and Pontius Pilate.

Herod the Great was the Roman king of Judea who reigned from 37 B.C. to 4 or 1 B.C.  He was so brutally ambitious that he even killed his own wife and children.  But his most notorious act was the so-called “Massacre of the Innocents” in Bethlehem and its vicinity, ordered by Herod in an attempt to destroy Jesus in his infancy.  By the time the order was carried out, however, Joseph had been warned

from Wikipedia
from Wikipedia

in a dream to leave the area, which, along with Mary and Jesus, he did, foiling Herod’s plan.

It was not long after this that Herod experienced what the ancient historian Eusebius calls a “terrible end”:

He had an overpowering desire for food, which it was impossible to satisfy, ulceration of the intestines with agonizing pains in the lower bowel, and a clammy transparent humour covering the feet.  The abdomen was in the same miserable state, and in the genitals mortification set in, breeding worms.  Breathing was constricted and only possible when sitting upright, and it was most offensive because of the heavy stench and feverish respiration.  He suffered in every part convulsions that were unbearably severe.  (Ecclesiastical History, 1.8)

A maggot infestation of the scrotum?  Ugh.  No wonder Herod went on to attempt suicide.  But as the Jewish historian Josephus tells us, Herod was prevented from doing so by his cousin.  In any case, Herod’s demise soon followed his torturous illness.

Fast-forward about 33 years, and we find Judas Iscariot attempting to waylay Jesus.  Unlike Herod, Judas succeeds.  For thirty silver coins, Judas betrays Jesus into the hands of the Romans, who would subsequently crucify him.  The Gospel of Matthew tells us that Judas felt extreme remorse for this, saying “I have sinned for I have betrayed innocent blood.”  Matthew then notes that “Judas threw the money into the temple and left.  Then he went away and hanged himself” (Mt. 27:4-5).  According to the book of Acts, Judas first

from Wikipedia
from Wikipedia

purchased a field with some of that money.  Presumably, that’s where he hung himself, and where eventually “he fell headlong and all his intestines spilled out” (Acts 1:18).

It was Pontius Pilate, prefect of Judea, who presided over the trial of Jesus.  Seemingly reluctant to condemn Jesus, Pilate declared, “I find no basis for a charge against this man” (Lk. 23:4).  Nevertheless, he eventually succumbed to the pressure of the crowd and Jewish leaders, sentencing Jesus to be crucified.  Still, he insisted, I am innocent of this man’s blood” (Mt. 27:24) while washing his hands in front of the crowd.

So what became of the duplicitous Pilate?  Apparently he met the same fate as Judas—suicide.  Eusebius explains that, Pilate “was involved in such calamities that he was forced to become his own executioner and to punish himself with his own hand.” (Ecclesiastical History, 2.7)

Herod the Great, Judas Iscariot, and Pontius Pilate—three (would-be or actual) Jesus killers.  It is a macabre coincidence—whether or not mere coincidence—that each died the way he did.  Herod attempted to kill Jesus but failed, though his attempt brought much misery.  Likewise, he attempted to kill himself but failed, and his failure extended his own extreme misery.  Iscariot and Pilate, on the other hand, both succeeded in putting Jesus to death.  Likewise, they both also succeeded in putting themselves to death.

Talk about poetic justice.  To condemn the Source of Life is to condemn one’s own life.  To attack God is to attack oneself at the most foundational level.

On Lying to Children about Santa Claus

Have you seen this story about a ten-year-old girl, Belle Adams, whose belief in Santa Claus was dashed by her mother?  My wife texted me little Belle’s letter with the comment that the story “confirms one of our parenting decisions.”  That decision, which we made early on (when our oldest son, Bailey, was a toddler), was that we would not lie to our kids about Santa Claus but rather tell them the story while also informing them that it is a popular Western myth.  And to reinforce the fictional nature of it all, I would sometimes throw in extra narrative flourishes, such as that: 1) Santa is a chain-smoker and 2) Santa cheats at golf.  (These additions were not themselves lies, of course, since we were admittedly dealing in the realm of fiction.  When trafficking in cockamamie myths, why not augment along the way?)

Seriously, though, our reservations about participating in the Santa deception (despite the fact that some good friends of ours have done this) boiled down to a few fundamental concerns.  First, it constitutes a lie to one’s kids.  From the start, Amy and I have been committed to being truthful and as trustworthy as possible with our kids, whether regarding ole St. Nicholas or the weightier issues of life.  Being a systematic lie, the Santa deception certainly defies commitment to truthfulness and, when that lie is exposed, parents’ trustworthiness is necessarily undermined.  Little Belle Adams’ furious letter to her parents demonstrates just how serious the impact of this can be.  We might be tempted to think, “Oh, that’s just an immediate reaction; she’ll get over it.”  But, as the testimony of several adults I know confirms, in some cases the recovery is not so swift, and anyway a child’s “getting over it” emotionally is no guarantee that her trust in her parents is not damaged to some degree.  And that is a serious thing, no matter how much fun and silliness might be involved in perpetuating the deception.

Secondly, the Santa deception could set a child up for religious skepticism.  Consider the mythical attributes of the portly fictional elf.  He is omnipotent (as implied by the notion that he can travel at the speed of light and flawlessly deliver billions of presents to children worldwide in just a few hours); he is omniscient (“he knows when you are sleeping; he knows when you’re awake”); and he is omnibenevolent (he’s a moral judge, distinguishing the “naughty” and “nice” —“he knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!”).  Notice that these are all essentially divine attributes.  So when a child is eventually shown that her “faith” in Santa was misplaced, an unfortunate precedent is set: when it comes to testimonies about a wondrously wise, powerful, and loving being, don’t believe it, even if the reports come from the authorities in your life that you trust most—your own parents.  Such stories are just too good to be true, a set-up for disappointment.  As they say, fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.

I’m not saying that participating in the Santa deception will necessarily turn your kids into agnostics or even incline them at all in the direction of religious skepticism.  But, again, I’ve had adults tell me that their enlightenment about the Santa story did prompt them to consciously entertain doubts about God for just this reason.  And this, too, is a serious thing, however much fun parents and their children might have along the way.

But perhaps, after all, I am the one who is taking Santa Claus too seriously!  I mean, come on—it’s just a fun story that adds to the magic of the Christmas holiday, right?  To that I say:  Is the real Christmas story not magical enough?  Who needs a goofy cultural myth to add to the joy and wonder of the Lord of the universe taking on human flesh?  What good is a remote bearded elf in a funny suit visiting us once yearly when we have an omnipresent Lord who attends to our every prayer?  Who needs an imperfect judge to dole out toys or lumps of coal, depending on one’s degree of goodness, when the real Judge of the world is also the way of atonement, the one who suffered, died, and rose again on our behalf?  In short, why pollute the greatest story ever told with the most kitschy tale ever told?  So, in the final analysis, perhaps the best reason to scuttle the whole Santa story (at least as anything more than a cultural myth) is an aesthetic one:  to emphasize St. Nick over the baby Jesus is to exchange a profoundly beautiful narrative for an insipid one.  Santa Claus might not be a chain-smoker or cheater at golf, but he’s an incomparably less interesting character than the Christ child.

New and Old Treasures

A passage in the book of Matthew really struck me recently.  Specifically, Matthew 13:52.  The context of the verse is Jesus’ speaking about the kingdom of heaven and how at the end of the age the righteous and wicked will be separated and the wicked thrown into hell.  Then Jesus says, “every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.”

As a Christian philosopher who is especially interested in ethics, I suppose I am—or at least aspire to be—something like a “teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven.”  So when Jesus offers a simile related to this role, it catches my attention.  What could he mean here by “new treasures as well as old”?  One thing that comes to mind is scholarly insights, old and new.  In teaching the history of philosophy, I constantly emphasize the treasures in Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Aquinas, Anselm, Locke, Edwards, Berkeley, Kant, etc.  These are some of the towering intellects of Western thought, and their insights about the good life and, in many cases, the nature and purposes of God are considerable.  As for new treasures, I think of contemporary Christian philosophers such as Robert and Marilyn Adams, Alvin Plantinga, Eleonore Stump, Peter van Inwagen, Richard Swinburne, William Lane Craig, Linda Zagzebski, Robert Roberts, and Alexander Pruss.  In recent decades, these scholars and so many others have provided us with “new treasures” related to the intellectual life and virtuous living.

We should remember that Jesus himself was a teacher in the kingdom of heaven, and of course he modeled perfectly the bringing out of new and old treasures.  Whenever he taught, he drew from and applied the Old Testament scriptures but also made new innovations as a teacher, using unique parables (unlike anyone else in history), stunning hyperbole, creative metaphors, and other figurative devices for teaching theology and ethics.  Indeed, his method was a balanced blend of new and old treasures, something that all Christian educators and scholars should strive to emulate.

This Saturday Life

Yesterday, our family observed Good Friday. I say, “observed” because it seems a bit inappropriate to say “celebrated.” Though I certainly rejoice in the forgiveness and new life purchased for me at Calvary, one doesn’t want to be cheery about it. “Gee, Jesus, sure glad You died on the cross and all.” Somehow, throwing a birthday party for Jesus on Christmas, though having often struck me as a bit patronizing to the Son of God, seems far more appropriate than celebrating the day of His death.

Anyway, I am afraid that we didn’t do much observing either. Mostly I cleaned the house after a delicious sleep-in (as no one had school) and yelled at the kids to clean up the mess in the basement (“I’m sure Jesus cleaned up His toys when He was done playing with them!”). But after dinner, we did read the story of the crucifixion and talk about how amazing it was that Jesus not only died for us rebel ingrates, but that He also lived a perfect life without sinning once. This part pricked my conscience a bit when looking back on the yelling and all. Hopefully, the kids were thinking about the eye-rolling they had been doing throughout the day.

I also “observed” that it was two days ’til Easter and went hog wild at the grocery, buying everyone those things that they gave up for Lent. I love Easter morning even more than Christmas because, yes, it’s great to partake of whatever we have voluntarily abstained from over the past forty days, but I also feel so happy to remember that, for Jesus, the trial of His earthly existence is over. He carried such a heavy burden for us and now “It is finished.”

But for us that isn’t the case. Though we have hope, we haven’t reached the finish line yet. If we are believers, then we’ve gotten past Friday, with all its earthquakes and dark skies. We have come to the cross, received forgiveness, been freed from the bonds of sin, and been given the promise of things to come. But that promise isn’t reality yet. We are still at Saturday, longing for Sunday morning. And Saturday can be hell.

In our Saturday existence, we do things that leave us full of regret, like, I don’t know, let’s say, yelling at our kids. Or forgetting to pray for that person who so desperately needs our prayers. On Saturday, Friday seems like a lifetime ago and Sunday seems as though it will never dawn. I’m not quite sure what to do with Saturday. I was full of sadness and gratitude on Friday; I know I will be full of joy and praise on Sunday. But Saturday? It feels like an oversight, something to be skipped and gotten over with.

It makes you wonder, what was Jesus doing on Saturday? No longer on earth but not yet in heaven. No longer bound by death but not yet seated in glory. I suppose that latter part describes me pretty well too, though I am quite sure my estate will be far less glorious than His. For now I am called to live a life not bound by sin and death, not afraid of what is to come. With tears still wet on my cheeks but with the knowledge that chocolate bunnies and Diet Coke are just around the bend. I suppose, if nothing else, this Saturday life makes our mouths water for Sunday morning, when we, like Mary, will see our Savior in the garden, only this time it will be forever.

The Greatest Undercover Boss

Have you ever seen the television show Undercover Boss?  Since we don’t get TV broadcasts and have to access shows via Netflix, I was late to the party on this one.  But I’ve taken the time to watch a few episodes, and each one hit me hard.  For anyone unfamiliar, the premise of the show is that the chief executive or owner of a large company goes “undercover,” posing as a regular employee or as someone applying for a menial job in the lower echelons of the business.  In this way s/he is able to observe the employees with their guard down, whether its those doing grunt work for an hourly wage or supervisors and those in middle management.  After a week or so of doing this, the executive reveals his or her true identity to everyone and has one-on-one conversations with those s/he got to know best during the experience.  At this point the show climaxes, as we see how the executive’s attitude has changed toward the employees and perhaps the company as a whole.  We also see how the bad employees receive their come-uppance for poor work, whether because of negligence or mean-spiritedness toward fellow employees.  But most satisfying of all is the way the faithful employees are rewarded for their dedication and commitment, as they receive raises, promotions, special bonuses or all of the above.  The show is very compelling viewing, much more so than other reality TV shows.  I think the main reason for this is the fact that it always culminates with a just outcome and enlightenment for all involved.  The vicious workers get disciplined, the virtuous workers are rewarded, and the executive gains sympathy and understanding.

Recently, it struck me how the show’s basic narrative structure illustrates some biblical ideas.  For one thing, it displays a central moral theme in Scripture, and that is the notion that the proud will be humbled and the humble will be exalted (cf. 1 Sam. 2:7, Ps. 18:27, Ps. 147:6, Pr. 3:34, Luke 14:11, James 4:10, 1 Pet. 5:6, etc.).  Undercover Boss consistently provides powerful images of this idea.  Of course, as compelling as its stories are, they are but mere hints of the final doling out of rewards and punishments that awaits us on Judgment Day (cf. Eccl. 12:13, 2 Cor. 5:10).  Second, and more profoundly, it occurred to me that Jesus Christ is the ultimate Undercover Boss.  In taking on human flesh and dwelling among us, his divine identity was effectively masked.  In doing so, you might say, he demonstrated an existential acquaintance with the human condition, in all its absurd and painful reality.  But, of course, our Cosmic Executive was not, nor could He ever be, restricted in his understanding and sympathy for our plight.  Rather, he is completely aware of each of our lives.  And he fully empathizes with us and perfectly understands our struggles (Heb. 4:15).

With these images in mind, I’m more inspired than ever to be a “good and faithful servant” for the Company.  Because the Boss really loves me, and he’s always watching.