Some of us may be familiar with the adage “if you were the only human, Christ still would have died for your sins”. This is a red herring. The life death and resurrection of Christ is not an “admit one” ticket to heaven – it is a transformative move on God's part – which changes the landscape and therefore how we live together as creation – even into forever with God.
What's more, this transformative move of God's is not an abrupt brainwave out of the blue, it belongs to the story of salvation history – that is, God's intention to draw all to God – first, through a relationship with Abraham and his descendants, and then, focusing on one descendant: Jesus.
This classic diagram expresses something very important, there's no question. But being a handy diagram, it’s so clear, it’s easy to imagine it to be more comprehensive than it is. It is only one piece of bible and theology. We have the opportunity to consider what it doesn’t express, and what else we need to take into account when we come to the subject of sin and salvation.
I've done a bit of google digging, and as far as I can tell this diagram was popularised (invented?) by the Navigators (“…spread the Good News of Jesus Christ by establishing life-on-life mentoring—or discipling—relationships with people, equipping them to make an impact on those around them for God's glory”.) They have a copyright for the diagram from the 60s.
We’ve considered the importance of reformed theology, people like Martin Luther in informing this understanding of sin and salvation. The huge gulf between our natural state and the being of God. A gulf we could never cross ourselves – not by throwing ourselves into the majesty of creation, not by sticking to the ten commandments and every idea about good behaviour the church has ever floated, not by being keeping ourselves in isolation from society. Some of us might call this original sin, or Sin (with a capital S), or being human – whatever we call it, our natural instincts or attempts at goodness won't align us with God – only God's gracious free gift of coming to us in the life and death of Christ can draw us into the being of God.
Accepting this understanding of the situation is often followed by the sinners prayer, along the lines of "God, I know that I have sinned against you and deserve punishment. But Jesus Christ took the punishment that I deserve so that through faith in Him I could be forgiven. I place my trust in You for salvation. Thank You for Your wonderful grace and forgiveness – the gift of eternal life! Amen!"
The diagram and prayer land squarely on eternal life, and miss one of the most important truths: that God is in the business of renewing. Renewing creation, renewing lives.
“So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation…” (2 Corinthians 5, verses 17 and 18)
The letter to the church at Corinth addresses a real and painful situation, of frustration, hurt, and broken relationship – between Paul and people in the church at Corinth. Newness and reconciliation are not lofty theological ideals. Paul is confronting (and confronted with) the need for theology to make a difference to living.
“…I suspect Paul recognizes that what goes on in human communities, how we relate to one another, has implications for how we relate to God. It is not just about us; nor is it just about God. It is about how we understand ourselves to be in relationship with God and with one another, all in the same moment.” (Holly Hearon, Working Preacher Commentary)
There is always a tension between holding on and letting go. There is no doubt that there are things, even relationships, that need to be let go at times. However, Paul is passionate here about holding on – even if seems easier to let go.
This is the way Paul believes the Reign of God affects us. Existing amongst us, it helps us gauge what is important, what our part is, and thereby God’s Reign grows. All the things that Jesus taught and valued and lived and died and resurrected are with us, calling us to be made new.
Jesus changes the landscape. We have seen God. The reign of God is among us – with assurance and possibility. And this changes us – what is to come is being made, among us, and we are part of what is being made – we are new too.
The changed landscape will not change us once, it will shape us day by day.
It's ironic that in the process of making our Seymour St entry more substantial, I have discovered how much I love entering the church from Jervois Rd (as I have to at the moment). It is surprisingly influential to approach the cross many times a day, every time I go for a drink or to the loo or out for lunch, I return by the cross. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a giant cross in their place of work. But it reminds me our relationship with God, through Christ, is not a set and forget arrangement. (And we wouldn't want it to be.) Any real relationship shapes us – not once, not on a few critical occasions, but every day.
James Choung had a crack at creating a diagram that expressed a bigger picture, and addressed salvation as ongoing transformation rather than a one-off bridge crossing to eternal life.
Here's his diagram.
What I really like about this is that it shifts the mindset from a-ticket-to-heaven, to transformation.
The cross is not last feature / crowning glory of the diagram (a bridge to walk over). The cross is our entry point to the unfolding future.
The doctrine of original sin formulated by Augustine goes into detail about how sin came to be part of the human experience. He was arguing against a theologian who claimed people were capable of choosing only good – following the example of Jesus and reaching perfection. Augustine said nope, no way.
I don’t know that anyone follows the original doctrine of original sin now, certainly I don’t find the language helpful.
But there is always “disconcerting experience of evil as a grim constant”.
This is the bottom line for me when it comes to being human.
There are painful implications to existing.
Sometimes we are caught up in sin, sometimes we collude with sin, sometimes we initiate sin.
“Sin” and “evil” describe something more than the sum of the parts of bad human decision making.
Along with the human experience being what it is,
God’s love and grace and decision for us in Christ also “are what they are”.
Sometimes our theology gets too caught up in awe that God wants a relationship with lowly humans.
If we are over-occupied with God’s wonderful willingness to be involved with sinning sinners, we squeeze out the vital call on our lives.
So I like the way the circle diagram makes it clear that the Jesus event is part of a movement to transformation, but not an end point.
Brokenness, is.
Christ, God-with-us, is.
What now?
Someone wondered a month or so ago in free-for-all about the value of word “worship”. I think the point of “worship” is that it’s not just stop-in-your-tracks-to-admire, then back-to-business-as-usual. Worship is awe and lived response.
“Amazing grace! How sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!” A wonderful hymn but it doesn’t extend beyond the “it is” of sin and grace. (We know though that John Newton experienced transformation, and worked for transformation.) Songs and diagrams are so catchy (unlike sermons), which is why diagrams like today’s and hymns like Sing we a song of high revolt are so important: “God calls us to revolt and fight with him for what is just and right, to sing and live Magnificat in crowded street and council flat.”
…your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
We are a resurrection people, and we are always being called into new life.
What's more, this transformative move of God's is not an abrupt brainwave out of the blue, it belongs to the story of salvation history – that is, God's intention to draw all to God – first, through a relationship with Abraham and his descendants, and then, focusing on one descendant: Jesus.
This classic diagram expresses something very important, there's no question. But being a handy diagram, it’s so clear, it’s easy to imagine it to be more comprehensive than it is. It is only one piece of bible and theology. We have the opportunity to consider what it doesn’t express, and what else we need to take into account when we come to the subject of sin and salvation.
I've done a bit of google digging, and as far as I can tell this diagram was popularised (invented?) by the Navigators (“…spread the Good News of Jesus Christ by establishing life-on-life mentoring—or discipling—relationships with people, equipping them to make an impact on those around them for God's glory”.) They have a copyright for the diagram from the 60s.
We’ve considered the importance of reformed theology, people like Martin Luther in informing this understanding of sin and salvation. The huge gulf between our natural state and the being of God. A gulf we could never cross ourselves – not by throwing ourselves into the majesty of creation, not by sticking to the ten commandments and every idea about good behaviour the church has ever floated, not by being keeping ourselves in isolation from society. Some of us might call this original sin, or Sin (with a capital S), or being human – whatever we call it, our natural instincts or attempts at goodness won't align us with God – only God's gracious free gift of coming to us in the life and death of Christ can draw us into the being of God.
Accepting this understanding of the situation is often followed by the sinners prayer, along the lines of "God, I know that I have sinned against you and deserve punishment. But Jesus Christ took the punishment that I deserve so that through faith in Him I could be forgiven. I place my trust in You for salvation. Thank You for Your wonderful grace and forgiveness – the gift of eternal life! Amen!"
The diagram and prayer land squarely on eternal life, and miss one of the most important truths: that God is in the business of renewing. Renewing creation, renewing lives.
“So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation…” (2 Corinthians 5, verses 17 and 18)
The letter to the church at Corinth addresses a real and painful situation, of frustration, hurt, and broken relationship – between Paul and people in the church at Corinth. Newness and reconciliation are not lofty theological ideals. Paul is confronting (and confronted with) the need for theology to make a difference to living.
“…I suspect Paul recognizes that what goes on in human communities, how we relate to one another, has implications for how we relate to God. It is not just about us; nor is it just about God. It is about how we understand ourselves to be in relationship with God and with one another, all in the same moment.” (Holly Hearon, Working Preacher Commentary)
There is always a tension between holding on and letting go. There is no doubt that there are things, even relationships, that need to be let go at times. However, Paul is passionate here about holding on – even if seems easier to let go.
This is the way Paul believes the Reign of God affects us. Existing amongst us, it helps us gauge what is important, what our part is, and thereby God’s Reign grows. All the things that Jesus taught and valued and lived and died and resurrected are with us, calling us to be made new.
Jesus changes the landscape. We have seen God. The reign of God is among us – with assurance and possibility. And this changes us – what is to come is being made, among us, and we are part of what is being made – we are new too.
The changed landscape will not change us once, it will shape us day by day.
It's ironic that in the process of making our Seymour St entry more substantial, I have discovered how much I love entering the church from Jervois Rd (as I have to at the moment). It is surprisingly influential to approach the cross many times a day, every time I go for a drink or to the loo or out for lunch, I return by the cross. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a giant cross in their place of work. But it reminds me our relationship with God, through Christ, is not a set and forget arrangement. (And we wouldn't want it to be.) Any real relationship shapes us – not once, not on a few critical occasions, but every day.
James Choung had a crack at creating a diagram that expressed a bigger picture, and addressed salvation as ongoing transformation rather than a one-off bridge crossing to eternal life.
Here's his diagram.
What I really like about this is that it shifts the mindset from a-ticket-to-heaven, to transformation.
The cross is not last feature / crowning glory of the diagram (a bridge to walk over). The cross is our entry point to the unfolding future.
The doctrine of original sin formulated by Augustine goes into detail about how sin came to be part of the human experience. He was arguing against a theologian who claimed people were capable of choosing only good – following the example of Jesus and reaching perfection. Augustine said nope, no way.
I don’t know that anyone follows the original doctrine of original sin now, certainly I don’t find the language helpful.
But there is always “disconcerting experience of evil as a grim constant”.
This is the bottom line for me when it comes to being human.
There are painful implications to existing.
Sometimes we are caught up in sin, sometimes we collude with sin, sometimes we initiate sin.
“Sin” and “evil” describe something more than the sum of the parts of bad human decision making.
Along with the human experience being what it is,
God’s love and grace and decision for us in Christ also “are what they are”.
Sometimes our theology gets too caught up in awe that God wants a relationship with lowly humans.
If we are over-occupied with God’s wonderful willingness to be involved with sinning sinners, we squeeze out the vital call on our lives.
So I like the way the circle diagram makes it clear that the Jesus event is part of a movement to transformation, but not an end point.
Brokenness, is.
Christ, God-with-us, is.
What now?
Someone wondered a month or so ago in free-for-all about the value of word “worship”. I think the point of “worship” is that it’s not just stop-in-your-tracks-to-admire, then back-to-business-as-usual. Worship is awe and lived response.
“Amazing grace! How sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!” A wonderful hymn but it doesn’t extend beyond the “it is” of sin and grace. (We know though that John Newton experienced transformation, and worked for transformation.) Songs and diagrams are so catchy (unlike sermons), which is why diagrams like today’s and hymns like Sing we a song of high revolt are so important: “God calls us to revolt and fight with him for what is just and right, to sing and live Magnificat in crowded street and council flat.”
…your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
We are a resurrection people, and we are always being called into new life.
