Train Yourself for Godliness (Part One)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part One).  Baseball is calm, swimming is smooth, tennis is polite, soccer is theater, but in the South, football is king. Every year from September to December (and if you’re fortunate, then January, too), all Friday nights are high school football game nights. Saturdays are college football tailgate events. Sundays are professional-level grid-iron contests. Although football is arguably a silly game—since pads are required because the human body was not designed to collide at full speed into another human body, since oxygen is available after every play, and since there are far more timeouts than touchdowns—it requires intense physical training.

Football did not exist in Bible times, but other sports did. If ancient citizens were blessed with enough time between fighting actual wars and were rich enough to buy from other people’s farm labor, they frequently competed in running, wrestling, boxing, and other athletics that we would probably classify as Track and Field. Sports were very popular in the first century, so physical training was very common. The ancients even built dedicated arenas for training called gymnasiums, which we obviously carried forward into our modern setting.

The Bible, especially Paul’s letters, uses athletic imagery with largely positive overtones. One such passage where athletic imagery is heavy is 1 Timothy 4:6-8, but Paul mixes his wide appreciation for sport with a sharp parody for the gospel opponents who have strangely mixed rigorous training (though not exclusively athletic training) with religion. They were called the Ascetics. Ascetical beliefs (wrongly) reasoned that severe physical treatment of the body, which was assumed to be evil, could impart real benefit for the soul, which was assumed to be good. Elements of asceticism—strict fasting, certain abstinences, dietary restrictions, extreme frugality, and even self-harm—could be found inside major philosophical camps such as the Stoics, Epicureans, Pythagoreans, Neo-Platonists, as well as Jewish mystics and early Christian monastics. Yet, Paul fought to keep the gospel distinct from all asceticism.

“Being trained in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine that you have followed, have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:6-8). Preaching the gospel and teaching sound doctrine contrasts with promoting irreverent “speculations” (1 Tim. 1:10) and promulgating silly myths (any tradition or narrative that is outside and contrary to the Bible). Paul uses sarcasm to cut down ascetic practices, which massively overemphasize “bodily training,” by calling their main doctrine little, slight, with only marginal benefit. Instead of overestimating the body, “Train yourself for godliness [which] is of value in every way” (1 Tim. 4:8).

Salt and Light (Part Three)

Salt and Light (Part Three).  In the contiguous United States, Big Bend National Park in southwest Texas is the least polluted area in terms of ambient light. It is classified as a Dark Sky Reserve. On the 1 to 9 numeric Bortle Scale of Dark-Sky, only a handful of places in the “Lower 48” earn a rating of 1, the darkest measurement, so dark that the Milky Way itself casts shadows on Earth. Goldsboro, NC, scores 5.5; Raleigh is 8.3. As expected, New York City, Chicago, and Los Angeles each peg at 9 where the dark-sky rating maxes out.

Except for Rome in 133 bc which was the first city in history to reach a million inhabitants, a feat not repeated until London reached the million-mark in 1801, the entire ancient world would have been rated as Bortle 1, a completely dark night sky. Antiquity’s best lamps would have been dim at best. The darker the environment, the more impactful the light is.

It is conceivable that, in the historical past, any light source in a direct sightline during nighttime, whether campfire or candle, would have been visible for miles. An elevated light source would have been a looming, welcoming beacon for travelers. Most early cities in the Mediterranean Rim were elevated, and most walls and houses would have been constructed with white limestone. The white surfaces, which help reflect the heat during the day, would also reflect the moon and stars during the night, making the city to stand-out against the darkness like a nearly luminous landmark. Likewise, the white limestone construction could help fill the inside of those houses by diffusing the small light cast by fist-sized, clay lamps.

Alluding strongly back to Isaiah 42:6 and 49:6, Jesus grabs this light imagery as he teaches the people about the large impact that individual godliness has on its community. “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house” (Matt. 5:14-15).

Visibility is the point; a little light goes a long way in the dark as a city set on a hill and as a lamp set upon a lampstand. But such visibility is for others to see better, not for the limelight to be seen better by others. The purpose of godliness in the form of good works is that others will see and celebrate God, the true source of all the light reflected by his people scattered about in society. “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). Thus, being light in the world is worship of God and service to neighbor.

Salt and Light (Part Two)

Salt and Light (Part Two).  In the ancient world, salt was very valuable. Where it could be mined from the earth, it was often compounded with other minerals and less usable. Thus, calling someone “the salt of the earth” was a compliment because salt was rare to find. Therefore, salt was often extracted from the sea before the innovation of modern industrial techniques.

Ocean water has a salt content (salinity) of roughly 3.5%. So, the math says that every quart of saltwater holds about half a teaspoon of salt. Evaporating saltwater to leave behind only salt crystals requires a lot of expense! The ancient historian Pliny recorded that the Roman government would sometimes pay its soldiers in salt instead of physical coins, giving a source to our word salary. As such, when a soldier did not perform his duties, others might say of him, “He is not worth his salt.” In remote, inland areas salt was more valuable than gold.

In the Scriptures, salt had three purposes which figuratively illustrate the impact of godliness in the community. Salt is a preservative, a flavor enhancer, and a sacrifice. Christians generally have a positive influence on society.

Because of the lack of refrigeration, salt was useful to preserve food. Redeemed citizens have a similar effect on their culture; like salt rubbed into meat and fish, they prolong the good elements while warding off the evil elements for the community. Redeemed inhabitants also play a role of “flavor enhancer” in their cultures. “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt” (Col. 4:6) is an idiom that Paul borrowed from the world, meaning pleasant, flavorful, and refined.

Finally, redeemed people in the nation of Israel also had a tie to the salt used in the sacrificial system. “You shall season all your grain offerings with salt” (Lev. 2:13). To add salt was to add personal investment and value to the act of worship. Yet even that imagery could become corrupted when the required salt in a sacrifice became merely a performance and a hypocrisy. If “the salt has lost its saltiness” (Mark 9:49), then it has detoured from its original purpose to such an extent that it was no longer acceptable. Rabbinical literature said that unsuitable salt was good for nothing but to be thrown out on wet pavement for a little traction (i.e., “trampled underfoot” [Matt. 7:6; Luke 8:5; 21:24]). “Salt is good, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is of no use either for the soil or for the manure pile. It is thrown away. He who has ears to hear, let him hear” (Luke 14:34-35).

Salt and Light (Part One)

Salt and Light (Part One).  Teachers going back into their classrooms for another year, tradesmen going back to their worksites after another weekend, managers going back into their offices after another week, parents/grandparents going back to their tasks of drop-offs and pick-ups after another summer break—these and all other work-a-day applications deserve some encouragement in the mid-August ramp-up to fall. Is it worth it? Do I make a difference? Will I last another year? Yes, it is worth it! Yes, you make a difference? Yes, you can last another year!

In the genius Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), before completely shattering the status quo of cultural and ritualistic religion, Jesus gave a lot of love to the ordinary people of faith. If read straight through, the Sermon was probably less than 30 minutes long. Yet in those 30 minutes, the pompous legalists with tassels on their robes and hats on their heads who crowed about all things moral in Israel (e.g., the religious rulers, especially the Pharisees) were forever exposed as the public antagonists to Jesus’ gospel of the kingdom. To the simple folk who minded their own business, who loved God and obeyed the commandments as best as they knew how, Jesus gave unprecedented attention.

“You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet. You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:13-16).

Ordinary people of faith have an extraordinary impact upon every environment they touch. Employing two strong metaphors, salt and light, Jesus elevates the positive impact that every individual worshiper has on his or her sphere, at the expense of the professional religious elites whose impact was only negative, null, and void.

Taken together, salt and light both provide something that the natural environment needs but does not have. The earth has salt in its hills and oceans, but it takes intellect and industry to extract it and process it into useable forms. The earth has reflective and combustible properties in its minerals and ores, but it takes innovation and precision to convert it safely into lamps and slow burning oils. “Being salt and light is less about what Christians do and more about what Christians are. If we have been truly transformed by the salvation of the Lord, this transformation will bear fruit in out lives. We will season the world with the demonstrations of the fruit of the Spirit in our lives, and we will shine the light of the Truth in a dark world, reflecting the glory of God (Steve Curtis, ”Serving God as Salt and Light,” Growing in Grace, Workshop Four, p. 111).

Fully Trained

Fully Trained.  Like a sailor’s soundings that bounce (or don’t bounce) off the seafloor, our spiritual questions (even if unanswered) help us orient to our largely invisible spiritual topography. How deep is the water? At what rate is its depth decreasing or increasing? For which harbor are we aiming? Which landmarks exist along the way, and where? How will we know when we have made measurable progress? What factors or qualities must be present by the time we arrive? Spiritual growth is highly navigational in practice. 

Therefore, it is no surprise that Paul uses nautical terminology and imagery to describe and instruct us toward spiritual maturity. “No longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes” (Eph. 4:14). The weather doesn’t drive the boat just as surely as the wooden bowsprit fastened to the foremast doesn’t lead the crew; the captain leads the crew with his hand on the rudder and the map nearly memorized in his mind.

Yet, steering is only a slice of the captain’s job; his primary responsibility is “to equip the saints for the work of ministry” (Eph. 4:12), which is another nautical term. To equip, fundamentally means to make something or someone adequate, whether mechanically like a fisherman mending fishing nets or a physician setting a broken bone, occupationally like training an apprentice, developmentally like guiding a child into adulthood, or morally like restoring to spiritual health a brother who was caught in sin. In the fifteen times that word (Greek, katartizo) is used in the New Testament, it is translated as restore, prepare, mend, train, unite, supply, create, and equip. To be fully trained as a sailor, or a saint, involves risk and reward.

Paul’s instruction to pastors/teachers in the local church was to make the saints (i.e., church members) adequate for participation in their own and the group’s journey toward spiritual maturity. To be equipped is not to be finished, of course, but to be functionally ready collectively to “attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Eph. 4:13). Everyone onboard knows and does his/her job in the church, looks out for one another, recognizes the pitfalls, and understands generally the purpose and destination of the journey. This is something akin to the root idea behind our antiquated nautical idioms, “to know the ropes” (on a boat), no longer “wet behind the ears,” because he has “found his sea legs.” In modern parlance, we might similarly say, “next man up.” If the captain/pastor washes overboard, then the crew can continue the journey since he equipped them to do the work of ministry.

So, then, where are we going as a church? We are going toward the spiritual maturity of the individuals in the church and the whole church. How will we know that we are making progress? We can measure progress as the equipped saints start doing the work of ministry!

Whoever Humbles Himself

Whoever Humbles Himself. The general instruction is generally not well received: “Know your place,” “Stay in your lane,” “Mind your own business.” The pride that is in each person often produces even more desire to buck conventional roles when told to maintain them. “Do not eat,” for instance, usually makes us want to eat nothing else but that which was prohibited. Instead of attacking human pride, humans usually attack the rule or the ruler. While this primal urge to revolt is celebrated as good, even enshrined as courageous, in the Lord’s created order pride is never good or courageous because it is the hostile intruder against peace. The Beatles might have lightheartedly sang, “I don’t know why you say, ‘Goodbye,’ I say, ‘Hello,’” but the Bible knows why: pride! “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Prov. 16:18). Pride doesn’t endure being told what to do by authority.

Yet, the result of pride doesn’t mollify pride. Like the churning of the sea, pride isn’t ultimately happy when it gets its way; it always wants more. Pride is insatiable because there is ever another hunt to begin, another conventionality to shatter, another authority figure to topple.

The opposite of pride, therefore, is not external debasement but internal humility. Humility finds and enjoys what pride cannot locate or possess, namely peace with God and contentment under God’s sovereign rule. Humility, as seen through the lens of pride, is weakness. But humility, as seen through the lens of faith, is greatness. “Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 18:4).

I had a pastor friend in another place who was gifted a late model Lincoln Towncar by one of his parishioners because he genuinely needed a new ride. But the gift caused this pastor grief. “It is too nice,” he said one morning at a coffee fellowship with other pastors. “What will the people in the church think seeing me drive this car into the church parking lot? A pastor should be poor.” Right there in his conclusion, it was clear that he was not talking about salary constraints but about his perception in the eyes of others. Trying to appear humble by driving a relatively frumpy car is just another variation of pride. Ah, but before I could cast the first stone, I was reminded of my own false piety in wearing only clothes from the Thrift Store.

Humbling oneself is not constructing an external façade but resting in an internal understanding that one doesn’t need a façade whatsoever. Pride reaches, even clamors for achievement; humility relaxes by faith in the peace of God and the provision from God.

Repent and Believe in the Gospel

Repent and Believe in the Gospel.  While we cannot easily recognize the name of the ancient Greek courier, Pheidipiddes (sometimes spelled Philippides), without a little help from Google®, we can immediately recognize the foot race that Pheidipiddes inspired: the marathon. Versions differ, but Greek lore tells that Pheidipiddes sprinted the 42.2 kilometers (26.2 miles) back to Athens with urgent news from the Battle of Marathon, where Darius I first invaded Greece in 490 bc. “Joy, we win,” Pheidipiddes declared, his last words before his sudden death. The Battle of Marathon was the watershed victory in the Greco-Persia Wars where Greece first learned, if the City-States banded together, that they could defeat Persia despite Persia’s overwhelming number of soldiers.

We may not easily recognize the places Athens or Sparta or the name Darius either, but we can all recognize the role that Pheidipiddes filled. He was an evangelist, euangelion, a proclaimer of the gospel, the good news. From Classical Greek literature, which predates the New Testament, the word euangelion already existed, though rarely. A secular evangelist proclaimed victorious news from afar. The angels, announcing Jesus’ birth, masterfully commandeered this uncommon word, euangelion, recasting it in an exclusively Christian sense. “And the angel said to them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news [euangelion] of great joy that will be for all the people’” (Luke 2:10). The rest of the New Testament follows the angelic pattern of speech; every New Testament occurrence of euangelion refers to Christ’s victory.

Therefore, the term gospel in the New Testament is either the good news of Christ’s redemption (76 times) or the action of proclaiming of Christ’s good news (77 times). Or we might repurpose Pheidipiddes’ words, “Joy, we win,” to summarize the gospel, yet in a sense that Pheidipiddes could have never imagined. “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel [euangelion]” (Mark 1:15). Our great joy comes from Christ’s victory over death.