Remain in the Vine (John 15:1-4)

It seems to me that these theology posts have been getting rather long as of late. While looking for something to write about, I pulled up today's reading. Part of it contains a pretty sweet passage where Jesus gives his "I am the vine" speech. Thing is, it's a long passage, and I'm wanting to make these posts more easily digested. Because of that, I'm breaking up the passage into multiple posts. This week is John 15:1-4; next week will be John 15:5-11, and I'll pick up the rest after that. The passage is best understood when read all at once, so I recommend you do that now, but let's go ahead and get into this week's segment.

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.
-John 15:1-4 (ESV)

Usually, I start an exegesis with a bunch of background and related context. Kind of sweet this time is that the passage is about as self-contained as a passage gets. Jesus' words are direct, clear, and do not require lengthy details of surrounding narrative or theological groundwork. So, let's get right to seeing what He's saying.

Well, the passage is fairly straightforward. As is fairly common for Christ's teachings, He uses a metaphor to make His point. This time around, the metaphor is that of a garden. Still, not a lot about gardening has to be known to understand His meaning.

This metaphor has, as you can see, three main characters of sorts: the "true vine," Jesus; the "vinedresser," the Father; and "the branches," Jesus' followers. The purpose of a garden like this is to produce fruit. The fruit grows on the branches, but the branches are not self-sustained; they draw their life from the source, "the true vine." To maximize crop yields, the vinedresser cleans and otherwise tends to the plant. Therein lie the relationships between the characters of this metaphor. If you've done any gardening before, this should be pretty intuitive for you.

Getting back to the passage at hand, Jesus begins by setting up His metaphor. We just saw the function of the metaphor a moment ago, but let's look in more detail at what the vinedresser, God, does. The first thing is that He throws out branches that produce no fruit. Let's not overread this, though. This is a passage speaking of practicality and production of fruit; this isn't a passage on salvation and whether or not it can be lost due to lack of yielding fruit. That's another topic for another day. Instead, sticking with the metaphor, it is a warning of sorts saying that a fruitless life (becoming a practically dead branch) comes at a great cost: the loss of intimate connection with Christ. In fact, His claim that "you are already clean" helps to clarify this point.

But don't think that bearing fruits guarantees an easy life; far be it from the truth! To those that produce fruit, the vinedresser will prune those branches. In more concrete terms, those who live a productive life will be faced with plenty of challenges, too. Unlike the fruitless vines, though, these challenges are in place to increase fruitfulness in the future. This concept can be found throughout Scripture, especially in Paul's letters. Trials, tribulations, rough times, whatever you want to call them, they are designed to make us more like Him, to perfect our faith, to work out our salvation (sanctification, that is).

Now, Jesus takes a turn toward the imperative. In the simplest of terms, it is as if the first part of this passage segment is to say "here's how things work" and the second says "now make sure you do it right." So what are the disciples to do? What are we to do?

Remain (abide) in Him as He is in us. In order to yield fruit, this is essential. So, what exactly does remaining Him actually look like?

Well. I'm gonna try something new. The answer to this question comes in a later segment of the passage, but instead of me just saying "here's the deal," I want to spark conversation. What do you think it means to remain in Him? Write a comment on this post, or take it up in the forums, with your ideas of what this looks like in practical terms.

And with that little cliffhanger, I'll leave you until next week.


For His glory,
-Kenny Yeager (kenny@revolve21.com)

Foundation for Morality

Good day, folks. I'd like to apologize up front for missing last week's update. I got really busy with school and life in general, then realized too late that I forgot to write a new theology blog post. It's a little late in the evening, but I didn't completely forget this week.

As I've mentioned a few times, I really prefer writing blog posts that revolve around a given passage of the Bible and simply expound on it. But there are times when there is a given topic that I think is worth discussing here as a theological post since it is tied to Christian beliefs even if it is not wholly bibliocentric. Today's post is of that kind.

This time, I am yet again inspired to write about something brought to my attention in my community college ethics class. Last time this happened, I wrote about the compatibility of faith and reason with particular focus on matters of morality. While that post remains true, I'm wanting to look at another side of a related issue pertaining to morality. Namely, I want to look at the foundations for moral codes within Christianity and the general lack of foundation when approaching morality from a naturalistic viewpoint.

Without trying to condense an entire term of course content (in addition to other studies) into a single post, I'll keep this as simple and direct as possible. From a naturalistic/atheistic starting point, there are a number of ethical systems that determine what is right and wrong as well as why this is the case. These systems can be in conflict with each other, so the naturalist must choose one superior set of values that overrides all others. (If you're a particularly keen reader, you may have noticed at least one inherit problem in this already.)

Still, the most basic breakdown of these systems is something like this: morality stems from the gain of the self above all others, the greatest gain for the greatest number of people, what one is bound by duty to do, what leads to justice, or what upholds intrinsic human rights.

Okay. That's pretty complicated. Sitting at the end of a term where all of these words are loaded with meaning, I imagine this can seem a bit vague or possibly surprisingly simple since each concept represents an entire ethical system. For better or worse, since I want to present an idea instead of overwhelm you with a host of ideologies, I'm not going to go into great detail on any of them. Instead, I'm going to recommend you look into these ideologies on your own some time because they will challenge your worldview in such a way that your view of Christ (and your actions in turn) will most likely profit.

Returning to this list of ideologies, there is often overlap in function when holding any one of them absolutely, but the reasoning behind each is different. For example, justice and rights theories both support (to at least some extent) personal freedoms and the ability to continue living. Then again, there are definitely points of contention.

But I digress. I wanted to write about foundations for morality, and I will still do just that. As unpleasant as it may sound, from a naturalistic starting point, the self-serving ethical system ("egoism," which defines good as being that which benefits the self) is the most reasonable and has the most grounds for execution. Based on ideas such as survival of the fittest, self-serving ethics actually have a solid foundation in naturalism; most people just don't seem to like it since it cares little about the benefit of others (an interesting detail all its own-the presence of a moral and altruistic intuition in most people). Still, it works. Coincidentally, it is the view most at odds with traditional Christian values since it so highly esteems the self.

But wait, there's more.

Though Christianity calls for the giving of the self, the egoist is actually on to something here. We know that "Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13) And we often highly esteem sacrifice (which makes sense since Christ's sacrificial death lies at the heart of salvation), but we forget that we are also to love ourselves. This is implicit in what the Law says and Christ later iterated when He said to "love your neighbor as yourself." So, even this view that we, as Christians, may want to brush off at first glance actually has some merit to it.

Seeing as I'm already starting to write at some considerable length, I'll try to further condense the rest of what's coming up, but it shouldn't be too challenging. Unlike egoism, which directly comes out of naturalism, the other ethical theories have much shakier foundations. Though many of these views come out of the enlightenment, and thereby claims to stem forth from reason, they lack an ultimate authority to make their claims.

Take, for example, utilitarianism (the greatest good for the greatest number). Unless if you are going to stretch survival of the fittest and related concepts to mean the entire human race (which still has to do away with individual excellence in the naturalistic sense), it may sound good, but it isn't built on a solid foundation. The same goes for theories based in rights, justice, and even duty. Though these theories can be used to promote personal gain (especially with how often we hear people cry out about their rights being impinged), at the core of the ideologies lie an ideal of common good and require at least some altruism on the part of the general populace.

Noble aims, to be sure. In practice, these systems for morality can do a lot of good. The problem is that they break down at the most fundamental theoretical level due to a lack of foundational support within the confines of a naturalistic worldview. Actually, in practice, these systems can bear a lot of similarity to what the life of a practicing Christian should look like. But it's that lack of foundation in the naturalistic worldview that bothers me so much.

Thank God we are not confined to a naturalistic worldview; and thank God that He actually gives a foundation for our morality. Yes, there are people who would argue that the simple fact that "this is what the Bible says, so that's why we should do it," but God gives us far more than that (which I talked about at some length in the aforementioned post). We have divine command (that which is in the Bible) to go off of, but we also have moral intuition and reason to help us. True, naturalists have that same intuition and reason available to them, but God is what gives those things meaning and, to some extent, reliability.

Yes, this is where faith becomes important (since there is an element of faith in accepting that the Bible is the infallible Word of God-another topic covered previously). Still, once that step of faith is taken, there is a foundation for morality. In fact, many of the things promoted in these ethical systems are justified with a strong foundation within Christianity.

Ideas of (limited) rights, justice for wrongs done, and moral duty are clearly found in the Bible as well as in reason and moral intuition. Take Genesis 9:6 for example where God decrees "Whoever sheds man's blood, by man his blood shall be shed, for in the image of God He made man." I'm not looking to present an argument on the death penalty here, so focus in on the latter part. Clearly, people have intrinsic worth because they are created in God's image. This is something a naturalist has no claim to. Likewise, sacrifice and the eternal good are very clear themes in the Bible. This is abundantly clear in the stories of the beginning of the church as detailed in Acts.

So, as we see, morality has ample foundation within Christianity, and it is by no means limited to "God says this is right, so it is right." Having this strong foundation is something naturalists simply do not have the same claim to, and it is just one more thing to be thankful to God for. He gave us an intellect to use, so we should do just that. When our intellects point us right back to Him, it's a pretty awesome thing to realize.


For His glory,
-Kenny Yeager (kenny@revolve21.com)

Faith of Proportion (II Kings 4:1-7)

Having faith is a curious matter. Acting in faith is a significant matter. When acting in faith is demanded of you, do put all your weight behind the action, or do you play it safe so much as possible?

Today, we'll be taking a look at the faith of a woman in need. As for a timeline, this story centers around the prophet Elisha, successor of Elijah, and takes place within Israel's divided monarchy era. Let's jump into the passage, II Kings 4:1-7, as read in the English Standard Version.

Now the wife of one of the sons of the prophets cried to Elisha, "Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that your servant feared the LORD, but the creditor has come to take my two children to be his slaves." And Elisha said to her, "What shall I do for you? Tell me; what have you in the house?" And she said, "Your servant has nothing in the house except a jar of oil." Then he said, "Go outside, borrow vessels from all your neighbors, empty vessels and not too few. Then go in and shut the door behind yourself and your sons and pour into all these vessels. And when one is full, set it aside." So she went from him and shut the door behind herself and her sons. And as she poured they brought the vessels to her. When the vessels were full, she said to her son, "Bring me another vessel." And he said to her, "There is not another." Then the oil stopped flowing. She came and told the man of God, and he said, "Go, sell the oil and pay your debts, and you and your sons can live on the rest."

The first thing I'd like to note about this narrative is that Elisha is the only person given a proper name. By doing this, the story takes emphasis away from the individuals in the story in favor of highlighting their actions. Still, here is what we can understand about the situation:

This woman who comes to Elisha (and remember that Elisha is the great prophet of Israel, having received a "double portion" of Elijah's spirit) because her troubles exceed her ability to handle them. We see that her husband, now deceased, was one of Elisha's acolytes. Due to her situation, she seeks out the aid of one who would be most likely and willing to help.

When Elisha is presented with the woman's situation, he wastes no time in coming up with a means to help. Being the powerful prophet that he is, he decides to help her in a supernatural way. However, it is not in a direct way.

Here we see something that many of the prophets in the Old Testament did. We see him test her faith. His solution is not an obvious solution. He does not simply pull some money from his purse to assist her. Instead, she is given an odd task. Collect a host of jars and pour what little oil you have into them all.

Well, it doesn't take a scientist to see that she would naturally end up with a little bit of oil in each jar if she went for even disbursement. Elisha must have been crazy to have told her to fill a jar and move on to the next unless if she was starting with a very large jar and emptying into small jars. Well, that's if dealing with the natural order of volume. Fortunately for her, the supernatural was in effect.

In an act of faith, stepping outside the bounds of normal reason, she does as Elisha says. Surprisingly (or perhaps not that surprisingly to the woman if her faith was that unshaking), jar after jar is filled with oil until the last is filled.

With the final jar filled, the oil ceases to pour. She returns to Elisha for further direction. He told her to sell the oil to pay off debts and have the resources to survive afterward. And that is where the story ends.

But the message of the story is still important today. No, the passage isn't meant to be read as a get-rich-quick scheme (which the Bible actually warns against), but the message of acting in faith is still as important today as it was nearly three thousand years ago.

Had the woman chosen to disregard Elisha's solution as absurd, she would have likely lost her sons to the creditor who would enslave them. Had the woman only partially believed Elisha, choosing to only collect a few jars that she could find of her own accord, she would not have had enough to save her family.

It is because she acted in full faith that her story has the ending that it does. It is because she went to the full extent of what was required of her that she managed to pay off her debts and supply for her family.

No. Not all acts of faith and faithfulness yield happy endings for those who act (look at the countless martyrs of history), but part of acting in faith is trusting that God's ultimate good is superior to the immediate perception of good as it affects the individual.

The Bible illustrates, and history iterates, the results of acting in full faith, partial faith, and no faith at all. I think we all want the ultimate good that comes from partial faith, but how many of us are truly willing to act in full faith when push comes to shove? I know that's hard for me. Is it hard for you?

When God leads you to do something, what degree of faith will you respond in?


For His glory,
-Kenny Yeager (kenny@revolve21.com)

Unflinching Devotion (2 Timothy 4:1-5)

Have you ever asked yourself if you're living the life? That is, living the life God intends for you.

When looking for a topic for this week's theology blog, I decided to open up Second Timothy. I've always been a fan of the book. For some reason, I've felt like I could identify with Timothy, so Paul's instructions to the young leader have been pretty significant to me. That being said, this brief passage stood out to me when I went reading. So, without further ado, let's take a look at II Timothy 4:1-5 in the ESV.

I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.

I don't know if you've studied Paul's writings much, but I'll give you a quick rule of thumb for his letters if you haven't: Paul doesn't mince words. I think that's why so many churches like to teach from his writings; it makes coming up with things to say really easy. Paul says what he means without any kind of dancing around the subject. It actually makes it hard for me to really add new insight to his incredibly direct words.

This passage is no exception to that rule of thumb. There really isn't anything I can add to the passage, nor is there a need to provide historical context, but I can elaborate a little bit.

First things first, Paul, as Timothy's mentor, gives Timothy a direct command. The thing that makes his command interesting is that he presents it as more than just his own words. Then again, Paul's words reflect to words of Christ, so that seems quite fair even without taking into consideration that Paul is most commonly considered to be inspired by the Spirit in his writings.

What is his command? Well, it's pretty clear; there isn't a lot of need for me to iterate him verbatim. That being said, I do think his command can be summed up with this post title: Unflinching devotion.

Indeed, that is what Paul is calling him to. He warns that others will turn from the Truth in favor of more pleasing messages. Surely this doesn't surprise you. Still, Timothy is told to unshakably cling to what he was instructed.

But that's not the first of Paul's instructions. Timothy isn't told simply to cling to what is true instead of what is pleasing. No. He is first told to preach the word. He is called to action.

In season and out of season. He is called to always be ready. To never have his guard down. To always act. To be unflinching in his devotion.

Though this was a letter from Paul to Timothy, but it applies to us as well. No, not all of our lives are meant to look the same in the way we live out our callings, but the underlying message of Paul's letter is meant for us all. We're all called to be unflinching in our pursuit of God and our relationship with Him.

What do you think? Can we follow Him so fully?

For His glory,
-Kenny Yeager (kenny@revolve21.com)

The Heart That Lacks (Luke 18:18-23)

And a ruler asked him, "Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" And Jesus said to him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: 'Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.'" And he said, "All these I have kept from my youth." When Jesus heard this, he said to him, "One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich.
Luke 18:18-23 (ESV)

As I sat down to write a theology post for this week, I initially wanted to write a piece on what I call "Biblical Christianity," a take on what C. S. Lewis called Mere Christianity, and it's practical use in uniting Christians across denominations. Then I realized that I already wrote a piece about unity among ministries, so I opted to write something different this week. Taking a look at today's reading, I saw that today's passage in Luke included the so-called "rich young ruler." I put that in quotation marks because there isn't particularly strong indication of his youth, but it is the heading for this passage many of us have come to know and accept.

First things first, this is a narrative piece direct from the life of Christ coming on the heels of some parables and comments on the Kingdom of God. This passage is simple in that there are only two people present: Jesus and the rich ruler. A short and direct dialog leaves little that needs explanation, but there is still truth to be learned here. So, without further ado, let's get into the text.

Starting at the beginning, we see this man coming to Jesus wanting to gain eternal life. A good and reasonable pursuit. Still, with a very small bit of reading into the text, we can reason that the ruler is thinking in terms of earning eternal life. Then again, to the man's credit, he apparently sees truth in Jesus if he approaches Him with such a question.

Jesus, before even answering the man's question, responds with a question of His own. Then again, His question seems purely rhetorical since He does not wait for an answer before answering the man's question. What was Jesus' point here? It's pretty clear: God alone is truly, wholly good. By calling Jesus good, the man (intentionally or otherwise) was comparing Jesus with God. Jesus seems just fine with accepting this comparison (after making it clear to the man) by answering the man's question on a matter that no ordinary man should have been able to answer with any authority.

In effect, Jesus asks the man if he has kept the Law. On a brief digression, modern Biblical Christians seem too quick to shun the Law under the banner of Grace; however, in another passage, Jesus clearly upholds that the Law and its intent are good. Returning to the passage at hand, the man states that he has in fact kept the Law since his youth. To this, Jesus gives a new directive: Give your wealth to the needy and follow me.

This is a concept seen throughout the Bible. No longer is there an issue of moral and legal rightness. Now there is an issue of going the extra mile to love others. Now there is a matter of the heart, a matter of giving of oneself. This is a foreign concept to the self-serving human nature, and one that tests a great number of people. Clearly, it tested this man, seeing as he "became very sad."

Now, that's all the text gives us on this man. It's left to speculation to guess whether or not the rich man followed through with Jesus' imperative. His sadness could have been a sign of his understanding that pursuing Christ, though it is worth it, would come at great personal cost, or it could have been a sign that he could not part with his wealth. Ultimately, we can't know. Then again, that doesn't mean that we can't learn from his situation.

See, at the core of what's going on here is this contrast, no, this war, between the immediate and the delayed, the temporal and the eternal. Clearly, the rich man was given an ultimatum between his immediate material wealth and delayed but eternal life. Jesus makes this fairly explicit by telling the man to give up his earthly riches in favor of heavenly riches (you didn't think I would let a significant part of the passage slip by, did you?). This concept, this forgoing of the immediate in favor of the eternal, is also spoken of plenty in the Bible. In Matthew 6, for example, Jesus tells followers to store treasure in heaven.

So, what does this have to do with "the heart that lacks"? Everything. If the heart clings to the immediate, the temporary, the self-serving, then it is hindered (at best) to pursue the future, the eternal, the selfless. Though it is far from uncommon for most of us to get caught up in the here and now, it is not the perspective that Christians are called to. It is a perspective that reveals a hear that lacks.

Which is why I now challenge you to do as I also need to do: shake free of the binds of the temporary to pursue the eternal.


For His glory,
-Kenny Yeager (kenny@revolve21.com)