In the early 1980s a movie arrived in theatres that was instantly successful and led to the production of a number of sequels. That movie was Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. The plot is rather simple: archaeologists have discovered the location of the Ark of the Covenant (which disappeared from biblical accounts sometime around the fall of Jerusalem in 586BC), and the search for the Ark begins. Indiana Jones arrives at the place where the Ark is thought to be, and he encounters rivals, defeated Nazis, who want to restore the Third Reich in Germany. The race is on, and they both arrive at the Ark at about the same time. The reason that the Nazis want the Ark is that they believe that if they possess it, they will also possess its power. When they do try to steal it, they are vapourized, leaving the Ark in the sole possession of Indiana Jones. He moves it to the United States where it is boxed up and put into storage, presumably so that it can be studied at a later time.

The movie was extremely popular, and it has led to several spinoffs over the years. It is also a very disturbing movie if we think about it carefully. The idea behind the movie is that the Ark is a kind of magical box that can give one great powers in that the one who possesses the Ark could conquer the world. If it were a true movie, we are supposed to be comforted that the Ark is in the possession of the USA, and they would never use it to rule the world. Realistically, however it’s hard to imagine that anyone possessing such power as the Ark represents in the movie would not use it for their own purposes and glory. If someone is in possession of an object that would enable them to conquer the world, wouldn’t they eventually use it?

While the movies thrills, it is, in my view, an extremely dangerous movie because of what it implies. It implies that the power of God can be possessed by someone and used for their own advantage. The problem with the movie, again, is that it implies that the power of God (and therefore the will of God and even the person of God) can be owned and used by humans for their own ends. Whoever wrote the movie hadn’t read Scripture very closely.

Taking possession of the Ark for one’s own benefit is not something new. In 1 Samuel 4 the Philistines capture the Ark and place it in the temple of their god. The temple was not just a place to store sacred objects; rather, when the sacred objects of another god were placed in the Philistine temple, it was thought that the god those objects represented would serve the Philistine god and make him more powerful. Thus, placing the Ark in the temple the Philistine god signified that the Philistines believed that they could manipulate the God of Israel to their advantage and draw upon his power.

They were wrong. As we recall, the Philistines suffered terribly while the Ark was in their possession, from the appearance of disease-infected rats and tumours, and eventually they decided to return the Ark to the Israelites so that they would no longer have to deal with the God of the Israelites. Their experience proves beyond a shadow of doubt that God cannot be possessed or owned for one’s own advantage.

Still, The Raiders of the Lost Ark gives us that impression. It leaves us thinking that the box housed in an American warehouse could be remembered, and someone (hopefully someone good) could use it to better the world. That is what we are led to believe. The opposite could also be true. We are left with the impression that God, who is represented by the Ark, can be owned, and that God’s owner will have a huge advantage over everyone else, and that person could be evil.

While it may seem somewhat ludicrous that anyone might think that they can own God, there is some reason to believe that this might be still going on. Think about the simple sentence, “God is on my side.” As soon as we say something like that, we are defining the side, and then we are making God fit into whatever it is that our side is. God no longer gets to determine what he is or even who he is. God belongs to us when we begin to think in those terms. We see this happening in times of war, in politics, in denominations, in almost every area of life where sides are taken. We all want to claim God as our own.

Consider the Heidelberg Catechism in its first answer to the question: What is your only comfort (what gives you strength) in life and in death? The answer is not, “God is on my side.” It is not “I claim God as my own.” And it certainly is not, “God is my possession.” Instead, the catechism says that we belong to Jesus. We are his possession. We belong to him. He claims us as his own. This is our comfort, that we belong to him, not that he belongs to us.

The Raiders of the Lost Ark might seem like mere entertainment, but it presents a worldview that is clearly contrary to what we learn in Scripture. Our hope, our strength, our comfort, our assurance is not that God is on our side, that we claim him as our own. We don’t store him in a warehouse for study after which we can take him out and use him for our benefit or even for the benefit of the world. It would not be reassuring to think that anyone can use God for their purposes, even if we trust that they might not be tempted by evil. Our assurance is that God claims us as his own, and he won’t let us go. God is not someone to be manipulated or used for our own benefit. He is someone who loves us, provides for us, and guides us so that we glorify him and in so doing, enjoy him forever. Our comfort is not that God belongs to us but that we belong to him. Those are two very different things.

A number of years ago, two missionaries met each other by accident in a market in the country where they had been assigned. They struck up a conversation and it took about 30 seconds for them to realize that they both were serving the Christian Reformed Church. One was working with World Missions (now Resonate) and the other was working for World Relief (now World Renew). While they were both working for the same denomination, neither knew the other was in the same part of the world. They were shocked that they had both been in the region for several years but had never found out about each other.

As I heard this story (and it is true), I was in the head office of the denomination in Grand Rapid, Michigan, and the one who was telling me the story pointed to two different parts of the building. That section, he said, is World Renew, and that section, he said pointing across the hall, is Resonate. He said that for a number of years those working in either section rarely crossed the hallway to talk to each other. Each agency of the denomination worked in a silo, doing its own work, and doing it well, but often not collaborating with those on the other side of the hall. This story about the two missionaries meeting in the field was one of the motivating factors for the heads o the two agencies to begin talking together, and they made some significant changes. Instead of working independently, they decided to collaborate as much as possible, sharing information and resources as it became available. Never again would two missionaries from two agencies not be aware of each other.

Even as I talk about this story, I am also thankful that our denomination does have these two different agencies, each tasked with a particular aspect of the church’s work in the world. The church has two tasks: to bring the gospel to the world, a work that is primarily done through evangelism, discipleship, and planting churches. The second task is to alleviate some of the physical effects of sin by distributing food and clothing in times of crisis and by helping people develop farms, start businesses so that they can become self-sustaining. We might call these two aspects of the church to be word and deed ministries. Our denomination was doing both, but it was doing them separately.

A few years ago, I took a course taught by Rene Padilla, an Ecuadorian missiologist well known around the world for his careful thinking about missions and the task of the church. The course was called, “Integral Missions.” I took the course in a Baptist seminary, and many of my classmates were from Baptist backgrounds, a Christian tradition that takes very seriously the evangelistic task of the church. They tend to de-emphasize helping those with physical needs as being part of the church’s calling. Dr. Padilla called for the church to integrate its faith and deed ministries, saying that unless we engage in integral missions, we do not present the whole gospel. He referred to word and deed ministries as being two wings of a plane, an apt metaphor.

He pointed to the ministry of Jesus. Jesus came to teach, and teaching was an essential part of his ministry. Matthew’s gospel, for examples, records several of Jesus’ discourses, the most well-known being the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7). At the same time, Jesus also heals a large number of people, freeing them from the physical effects of sin. Often we see these miracles of Jesus as being a way to prove to the world that he is sent from God, and that is an appropriate understanding. But the miracles do more than just prove Jesus’ divinity and right to speak authoritatively. The miracles, like Jesus’ teaching, reveal the Kingdom of God. Jesus’ teachings give us a vision of the Kingdom of God, and his miracles give us a concrete experience of what that Kingdom is like. In other words, the miracles foreshadow what eternal life will be like, giving us a taste of what is to come.

Padilla encouraged us to think about the ministry of the church. The church is not only a place where the gospel is heard; it is also a place where the gospel is experienced. Padilla’s hypothesis was this: if the gospel cannot be experienced, it will not be heard, and if the gospel is not heard, it cannot be experienced. We cannot have a deed ministry without a word ministry, for without the word, there is no meaning to the help that we can give. On the other hand, a word ministry without a deed ministry makes the word seem false and lacking in compassion. We need both if the gospel is going to be authentic.

It would seem, then, that as followers of Jesus Christ carry out the task of telling the world about God’s grace in Jesus Christ that they also offer an experience of how that grace changes everything. This would mean that the church, the body of believers, becomes a place where people can experience a foretaste of heaven, where they are welcomed and love, where their needs are met, and where they can come to know who Jesus is and what he has done.

We think of the early church as it is found in the first chapters of the book of Acts. Even as the apostles proclaimed the gospel, the new believers pooled all they had so that all would have enough. What is described in Acts is not necessarily a prescription for the church, but it is an example of how the early church sought to experience a foretaste life in the Kingdom of God by ensuring that no one of its community should live in need. While we are not expected to pool all that we have, at the same time, it should be true that within the community of believers everyone experiences God’s blessings.

Today, World Renew and Resonate work closely together, bringing the gospel to the world both in word through evangelism and discipleship and in deed by assisting those with physical needs so that they can enjoy the fullness of God’s blessings. Integral missions, as Rene Padilla named it, is the fullness of the mission of the church.

The book of Acts seems to be missing its ending. In Acts 28, the last chapter, we read about Paul being imprisoned in Rome. It seems that as he arrived there, some of the Jews of that city went to visit him in prison, and he told them the story of how he had come to be in prison and awaiting trial. He had been falsely accused in Jerusalem, had been imprisoned, had been held in Caesarea for quite some time without a trial date, had appealed to Rome, travelled to Rome, and was now awaiting a trial before Caesar. The Jews of the city wanted to know more about Paul, and they visited him in prison. Paul told them his story, but he also took the opportunity to tell them about Jesus. Some of the Jews believed, but, we are told, the majority did not. Paul, in frustration, recalled the teaching of the OT book of Isaiah where we read that the Israelites of 600 years earlier had refused to hear God’s Word. He then went on to say that his ministry would now focus on the Gentiles. And, in the very last words of the book of Acts, we are told that Paul remained in Rome for 2 years, preaching the gospel without hindrance.

And that is where the story ends. Luke, the author of Acts, seems to have left out the rest of the story, neglecting to tell us about how the church in Rome grew stronger, how things went at the trial (Paul was set free), and what Paul did after he left Rome. We do know from Paul’s other writings that he travelled as far as Spain, preaching the gospel to the people there. But we do now know this from the book of Acts.

Some have commented that this is entirely appropriate, for although we would like to know the rest of the story, the rest of the story has not been written. That is true. If Luke has told us about Paul’s eventual death (tradition has it that it was in Rome where he was beheaded), we might have come to think of that being the end of the story. If we had read that one of the greatest Christian missionaries who ever lived had now died, we might be inclined to believe that it was all over. But, since the story of the missionary work of the church isn’t finished in the Bible, we are moved to believe that it is not yet over.

We do know that the gospel spread throughout Europe through the early centuries, mostly because Rome conquered most of Europe. We know that there were churches in many parts of western Asia and northern Africa. It also seems that there were churches as far away as India. But, we can be quite certain, there were no Christians in sub-Saharan Africa, in vast parts of Asia, including the far east, and in North and South America or Oceania. It wasn’t until centuries later that the gospel was made known to the rest of the world. Today there are very few places where there are no Christians at all. In nearly every nation there is, at very least, a few Christians and often a few churches.

The relatively recent spread of the gospel began in earnest in the early 19^th century with William Carey from England heading up a very significant missionary movement. He was joined by many others who endured long voyages to distant places to tell the world about Jesus. Today, the largest churches in the world are not located in the Mideast, where the church began or in Europe where the church has been for hundreds of years. The largest churches in the world are located in Nigeria where one congregation sees an attendance of over 500,000 and in South Korea where a congregation welcome just under 500,000 people weekly. In fact, of the top 18 largest congregations in the world, only four are found in North America and none are found in Europe.

We might think that because the gospel has gone to all parts of the world that the work of missions is nearly completed, but that is not so. Some places which used to be predominantly Christian, at least in name, are now almost entirely without knowledge of Jesus Christ. We think of places like Yemen (now Islamic but at one time a very Christian nation), Quebec (at one time Roman Catholic and now almost entirely secular), and the Netherlands (at one time nearly entirely Christian and now vastly secular). The very places that once used to send missionaries are now in dire need of someone to tell the people there about Jesus.

In other words, the story remains incomplete. And that, perhaps, is why Luke ended the book of Acts so abruptly. He wanted to illustrate that there is more to the story, parts of which are largely unwritten. That makes us part of the story too. The ministry of the church may not be to just feed Christians with spiritual food but, rather, to feed Christians so that the can, in turn feed others. The purpose of the church is to continue the unfinished work of Acts. One day the story will be finished, and it will be at the same moment that we see Jesus returning to this earth. Until then, we are on a mission to make Jesus known.

A few weeks ago, I made a comment that we should read one book every year which we know we would disagree with. I was quoting one my professors from the evangelical seminary I was attending. He was a prominent New Testament scholar, a devout believer and a good teacher. He was also an Arminian, meaning that he did not agree with the Calvinist teachings embodied in Reformed theology. At one point in the class, he spent a few moments telling us why he held to the teachings of Arminius, explaining Calvin’s theology at the same time. It was at that moment that I became an avowed Calvinist. I am sure that he would be a little appalled if he knew that it was he who pushed me solidly into the Reformed tradition.

It was because of this experience that I came to believe firmly that we should read one book every year with which we know we will differ. To put it more broadly, we should be willing to listen to someone who differs from us and listen to them with respect and care. One of three things will happen: first, we might find ourselves disagreeing with them and become more crystalized in the view we already hold. Second, we might find ourselves agreeing with them and we might even be willing to change our position. Or third, we might find ourselves asking more questions that will require further reading and study. This third possibility is really what we are hoping for, for when we ask questions and seek answers, we will grow in our knowledge.

Unfortunately, in today’s environment, it is inconceivable to many that we take a moment to listen to someone with whom we differ. Instead, it is a common practice to vilify those with whom we disagree, counting them among our enemies. This is very evident in the contemporary political sphere where we tend to view those who are not of our political leanings as being inept at best and evil at worst. Perhaps it has always been this way, and it may be that I am more aware of it now than before, but I find it disturbing. It might be far better to view those with whom we differ politically, for example, as having the same goals (the wellbeing of our nation), but different ways of getting there. I may disagree with the methods of someone who is not aligned with me politically, but I should very slow to question their motivation, unless, of course, they have stated quite clearly that they are doing what they are doing for their own benefit of the benefit of their friends. If I trust that we have similar goals, there is room for listening and discussing.

This was certainly true of my Arminian professor. He wrote a seminal book on hermeneutics (how to interpret and apply the Bible), and his one desire as a scholar and professor that the church be better equipped to follow Jesus as given to us in Scripture. He loved the Lord, and he loved the Lord’s church. As a result, I felt privileged to have him as professor. I could well have said, “He’s an Arminian and I don’t hold to his view, so I’m not going to take a class from him,” but then I would not have been blessed by what he could teach me about the Greek language. (I took a course in Greek from him.) I have to say, as well, that while my appreciation of Reformed theology was strengthened because I disagreed with him, I also found myself to be willing to think more deeply about how we are saved and what my role is in that salvation process.

It is true that over the centuries various parts of the Christian church have not been very gracious toward others who differ from them. In fact, even today, I hear, quite regularly, parts of the Christian church being treated as if they are the enemy. But we must be careful, for we might well be making those who God has also called into his enemies as well. That is not appropriate.

Let me illustrate with an example of how we must look beyond where we differ to the underlying motivation that we have in common. I was reading an article about the icons of Jesus (pictures and statues). I completely disagree with having them placed in the church for veneration, and I do not think they have any place in our worship. Nevertheless, this article helped me understand the motivation that is behind the creation and display of such images. These images, the author wrote, teach us to be respectful. We do not approach an image causally but, rather, we approach them with a sense of awe, not because the image is worthy of our veneration but because the one that the image represents is.” The article went on to say that these images (icons) provide us with an opportunity to practice our respect and awe for God. Again, I disagree that the church should display such images, but, at the same time, I understand some of the motivation for their display. We should be completely respectful of Jesus, approaching him with a deep sense of awe and wonder. I agree with that sentiment, and, as the author lamented, this sentiment is being lost to the Christian church, for we often do not show the awe that we should when we come before the Lord. We are quite casual, in fact, in our attitudes, and that shows disrespect to Jesus. I don’t think images of Jesus will solve the problem, and I don’t think that the Bible even allows for them as part of our worship. That being said, we also much be careful to act like Jesus is just one of us and even treat him as we would a casual friend. He remains our Lord and our God, and we must respond appropriately.

The point is this: while we may disagree with the methods of others who differ from us, we should be careful to understand their motivation. Why do people do what they do? We must never, ever assign an evil motivation to someone who is seeking the very same thing we want. In fact, we should listen carefully to them so that we can understand what motivates them to do what they are doing. Once we understand their motivation, we have a foundation for future discussions in the area of method. For example, if I understand that someone uses a statue of Jesus because they want to teach themselves to be in awe of him, I would say that the far better option would be to study the gospels and see Jesus in them. The gospels give us a much more awe-inspiring view of Jesus than does a statue.

We should listen to those with whom we disagree. Yes, we might find that they are right, and although change is hard, it can make us better people. Or we might find that we become more certain of what we already believe. Or, most likely, we will find ourselves engaging in deeper study and reflection. But whatever the case, we must not assign evil motives to those with whom we disagree, or we will lose our opportunity to become better and more informed people.

Between the Old Testament and New Testament, there were a number of books written which did not make the Bible, for a variety of reasons. Some of those books are listed in the Belgic Confession as being useful for us to help us better understand our Bible, but they are not to be considered as having the same value or authority as the Bible. One of the books not listed is the book of 3 Maccabees, one of 4 books written during the time of the Maccabees family, a family which sought to overthrow the Greek armies which were oppressing the Jewish people. Some of the stories told in these books could well have historical origins, but it is unlikely that the story told in 3 Maccabees does.

The story goes like this: in Alexandria, Egypt, there was a large population of Jews who were well respected by the community. Unfortunately, after feeling offended by them, the king had taken a strong dislike toward the Jews, and he sought to round them up, imprison them in a stadium and have them killed. He was unsuccessful in rounding up all the Jews because, according to his scribes, there were many of them that there was not enough paper and ink to write down all their names. Nonetheless, the king decided to proceed with the execution of the Jews he had managed to capture, and he proposed to do so in a very strange manner. In his possession he had 500 elephants, and he told the keeper of the elephants to drug them so that they would become maddened and uncontrollable. The king proposed that in the morning, after feeding the elephants drugs all night that these elephants be released into the stadium where he had imprisoned the Jews. The people of the city would be able to watch the slaughter from the stands.

The Jews, well aware that their lives were soon to end, cried out to God, praying that he hears their prayer and deliver them. They appealed to God’s promises to protect his people as he had done with Daniel in the lion’s den and Jonah in the belly of the fish. They knew that God could deliver them, and they asked him to act again in a powerful way.

As morning dawned, and the people gathered to watch the elephants let loose in the stadium, the king did not appear. Apparently, he had been drinking the night before, and his attendants did not dare to awaken him. Finally, when it was too late, he woke up, and he decided that he would proceed with his terrible plan on the next morning. That night he had a big party again, and when he woke, he was confused. He had forgotten his plan, and it took him a while to be brought back to his senses. Again, the slaughter was delayed. Finally, on the third morning, he woke in time, and he went to the stadium to watch the elephants rampage over the defenseless Jews. When he arrived, however, as the story tells it, he saw the Jews pleading to their God with many tears, and he had a change in heart. He decided to back down on his plan and instead threw a huge week-long party for the Jews he had intended to kill. At the end of the party, the Jews were allowed to return home to their lives. It is stated that they continued to hold a celebration every year, remembering their deliverance, a celebration that would have been local in Alexandria and which took place sometime in May.

This is a rather fantastical story, and there is no evidence that anything like this happened. Nevertheless, it is true that the Jews in the Greek empire were persecuted severely from time to time, and they sought God’s help. They believed firmly that God could deliver them, and they cried out to him for reprieve. Usually, in the books of the Maccabees, it was through military action led by the Maccabean family, and stories of heroic conquests and victories are common. However, in this story, the salvation of God’s people came in a rather odd way. Helpless in the stadium, there was no one to rescue them, no military leader to rouse them to action and no weapons that they could use. All they could do was cry out to God for help.

And help came, and it came in a very strange way. The king was a drunk, and he loved to party, so God used that. In his drunkenness, the king first passed out on the first night and his mind became clouded on the second. God used the sinfulness of this powerful king to accomplish his purposes. Then, when all seemed lost and the king appeared in the morning to watch the stampeding elephants, God changed the king’s heart. He felt remorse for his decision, and instead of killing God’s people, he blessed them.

While we recognize this story to be fantastical, and while it does not deserve a place in the Bible, we do get a glimpse of the mindset of the Jews in the years between the testaments, a time when they suffered deeply. While God did use the Maccabees to deliver his people (the story of Hannukah is rooted in the Maccabees), he does not need human intervention to rescue his people. God has the ability to use people and circumstances to answer prayers. God decided to use the drunkenness of a king to answer prayer. Ironically, a story that could have ended in terrible tragedy is darkly comical.

In some ways, this story from Alexandria, Egypt is similar to the story told in the book of Esther. While Esther’s story has historical basis, it contains the same theme: God doesn’t need powerful people to save his people. He uses whatever means is at hand. Thus, as we recall, the king in the book of Esther grew to dislike his wife, and he sent her away, moving him to seek a new wife. He chose Esther. When the king was ill-advised to destroy the Jewish people, all seemed lost until Esther stepped in and without raising a finger in violence, she convinced the king to spare her and her people. And, as in the story in 3 Maccabees, not only were the Jewish people saved, but they were honoured in an edict by the king.

Perhaps Paul had these stories in minds when, in 1 Corinthians 1, Paul says that God brought salvation through the one who Greeks saw as being foolish and Jews understood to be rejected. Yet, Jesus, who lifted not a finger to defeat God’s enemies, is the power and wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:24). In fact, it was through the cross and the apparent defeat of Jesus that God won complete victory over the devil and his evil followers.

The book of 3 Maccabees is easily found on the Internet and takes no more than half an hour to read. If you do read it, pay special attention to the prayers, for in them we see a deep trust in the Lord on the part of the Jews, a trust that is not betrayed.

The word, sophomore, usually refers to someone who is in their second year of high school or university. It is an apt word to describe students who are at that level of learning.

When first entering university, the student is called a freshman. Freshmen are fresh and new and they are not expected to know anything. Freshmen are generally overwhelmed by their new surroundings, and it takes them a while to get their feet under them. When they return for the second year of their studies, however, they come back as experienced people. They have a full year of learning and experience to their names, and they have a tendency to think that they know everything. They are sophomores. We will get back to this in a moment. As they enter their third year, students are called juniors. This word comes from the word that gives us the word, “young.” Juniors are considered to be those who are inexperienced. And, finally, in their final year, we have seniors, and that word refers to someone who is older, and more experienced, someone who has earned the right to be respected.

But what does the word, sophomore, mean? We might be surprised to learn this term is somewhat derogatory, for it literally means, “wise fool.” The first part of the word, “sopho,” is a Greek word meaning wisdom (philosophy = love of wisdom), and the second part of the word, “more,” meaning fool, also comes from the Greek (moron = fool). A sophomore is called a wise fool, and for good reason: they have some learning and experience especially when they compare themselves to a freshman. They enter into their second year thinking that they are well advanced in their knowledge and perceive themselves to be quite qualified in their field of study. But something strange happens in that second year of study. Whereas in their freshman year most of their courses were introductory, in the second year, their courses begin to dig deeper, and as the year progresses these somewhat arrogant sophomores realize that they didn’t know as much as they thought. In fact, by the end of the year, they come to understand that there is much more learning ahead of them than behind, if they want to become truly qualified. Thus, they are ready to become juniors, perceiving themselves as young and inexperienced. They continue learning and by the time they have reached their fourth year, they have gained some expertise in their field of study and they are ready to become seniors, those who have earned respect because of their knowledge and experience.

In his poem, A Little Learning, 18^th century poet, Alexander Pope, wrote the following:

A little learning is a dangerous thing;
drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
and drinking largely sobers us again.

(Note: the Pierian spring was a source of knowledge in Greek mythology.)

Alexander Pope is describing what educators have come to see in their students: a little bit of knowledge makes one a sophomore, someone who thinks they are learned but are, in fact, quite dangerous for they put themselves forward as experts while they are not. However, as Pope points out, if a sophomore persists and continues to study, they can become juniors and, eventually, seniors, but only if they are willing to continue to learn.

This is also true of studying the Bible. With rapidly changing methods of learning, we are being led to drink little sips (shallow draughts), so that our thirst is somewhat quenched and our desire to drink deeply nearly disappears. Most of our Bible study includes little snippets of text followed by a few encouraging words from a devotional. Or, we might widen our intake by listening to podcasts, most of which last no more than a few minutes. (The length of podcasts is shortening as listeners tend to ignore anything that will take up too much of their time.) These methods of learning are beneficial, but we must recognize that they are just little sips from the biblical spring. We can think that because we have sipped a few mouthfuls that our knowledge is sufficient while, in reality, we are merely sophomores.

So, what is the solution? The problem with a sophomore is that they lack perspective and, thus, they become arrogant. As Pope continues his poem, he likens learning to crossing the Alps on foot. When we begin our journey, we might cross the first mountains that we see, believing we have done an incredible thing. It is only when we reach the summit that we can see that what lies ahead are more mountains, many more majestic than the one we just summitted, and we realize that our journey has only just begun.

When we approach Scripture, then, it should always be with a humble attitude, for as we learn, we need to keep our eyes open to what lies ahead. We can learn a lot, and while we can be thankful for what we have already discovered, let’s realize that there is so much more for us to know. We have to get past the sophomore stage, thinking that because have taken a few sips, we don’t need much more.

I find myself moving between sophomore and junior. Sometimes I am astounded by how little I know and how much there is yet for me to learn, and other times, when I forget myself, I think I’ve arrived. I am often humbled when I spend a little more time reading and studying, moving beyond the devotional and podcast to spend time reading and learning from someone who has spent time plumbing the depths of a particular passage of Scripture, for it is then that I discover the richness of God’s Word. We all must be careful not to think like sophomores, believing we are wise but remaining fools. Our goal is to become a senior, and while we may never attain that perfectly, we can have the mindset of a junior, someone who knows enough to know that there is so much more to learn.

Hagiology is the study of the lives of the saints. We do not do a great deal of hagiology in the Reformed tradition, but it would not surprise us to learn that in the Roman Catholic Church one can engage in in-depth hagiology, a comprehensive study of the lives of the saints. In that tradition, the saints play a key role in every part of life as patron saints are assigned to farmers and fishermen, hospitals and hunters. Joseph, the adoptive father of Jesus, for example, is the patron saint of workers, particularly carpenters (understandably), but he is also considered the patron saint of fathers because he was chosen to be the father of Jesus.

While we in the Reformed tradition do not venerate the saints, it is helpful to understand why the practice arose in the Christian church. The reasons were much more social and political than they were biblical.

In times long past, people did not think of themselves as equal with all others. A very pervasive class system had developed in which lower classes of people did not have access to the upper classes. If you belonged to a lower class (e.g. farm labourer), you did not have the right to approach the local civil authority (perhaps the mayor) on your own. No mere labourer would have access to someone of such elevated status. Instead, the farm labourer would go to the farmer (who was also a landowner and of higher status), and he would beseech the farmer to go to the mayor on his behalf. The land-owning farmer served as an intermediary between the labourer and the mayor, bringing the needs of the labourer to the attention of the upper-class mayor. The mayor, likewise, could not approach the king with any requests he might have but, rather, he would seek someone who was more elevated that him, and he would ask that person to bring his request before the king.

The concept of a lower class person needing an intermediary to speak to someone of a much higher class was accepted by all. A world where everyone is equal was unheard of in those days of long ago.

The belief that a lowly person could not communicate directly with an elevated person crept into the church as well. God, of course, is far elevated above us, and it was believed that to approach God in prayer might be a bit too presumptuous. Those with needs had to find a way to communicate with God without offending his majesty, and going directly to Jesus was also out of the question because Jesus is God’s eternal Son, of the same majesty as his Father.

An alternative solution developed: why not approach those who are more like us but who we know to have a good standing with God? Take Joseph as an example. True, he was chosen to be Jesus’ father, but he was also a carpenter, someone who might make repairs to our house if we lived in his village at that time. He was approachable, but he also had access to God, for, after all, he was Jesus’ earthly father. With this logic, people began to “pray” to Joseph (and many others who were like us but had access to God), with the hope that Joseph would pass on their need to God the Father. Joseph became the intermediary, bringing the prayers of the humble human to the majestic God.

In a sense, this need for a intermediary is seen in the Old Testament as well. The people could approach the temple, God’s dwelling place, but they could not approach God directly. God was too majestic, too holy, and they were not worthy to enter into his presence. God, in his wisdom, instituted the priesthood where in the priests, human beings but set apart by God, would take the prayers of the people and bring them before God. The priests served as intermediaries between humble and lowly people to a holy and majestic God. Like the priests of the Old Testament, the saints of the era of the church served to stand between us and God.

We should note that in the Roman Catholic tradition, people are not supposed to worship the saints. Some do, but they are misinformed in their theology. Rather, the saints are to be venerated, or, in other words, to be recognized as having special status with God because of their faithfulness and commitment, something that is confirmed in them because God blessed them with the ability to serve him. To venerate a saint is to recognize that he or she, though fully human and like us, has special status with God.

The whole study of the saints (hagiology) is undertaken as a means to help people understand who is best qualified to bring their needs before a majestic and powerful God. We might see how someone who believes that access to God is denied to the humble person might find hagiology to be a comforting and equipping endeavour.

There is something to be learned from this practice of using the saints as an intermediary between God and us and that is this: God is majestic and holy and completely inaccessible to mere human beings who are also sinners. For someone to believe that they have immediate and unrestricted access to God is to ignore the difference between us and God. We are not on the same level as he is, and the ability to come before him is not intrinsically our right or privilege. We need an intermediary.

And that is what we have in Jesus Christ. Jesus serves as our intermediary, but he operates in a completely different way from the saints (or the priests of the Old Testament). The saints are human beings who have been elevated so that they have special status with God. Jesus is God who has humbled himself to become one of us. They travelled in different directions from each other, but the effect is the same.

It is because Jesus came to us, became one of us, and then returned to heaven that he becomes an acceptable intermediary. And he also became our mediator by offering himself as a sacrifice so that our sin would no longer stand between us and God. In other words, while we do not, as a native right, have access to God, we have access to him through Jesus. Therefore, because that access has been given to us, even though we are sinful, lowly human beings, we do not need another intermediary. And, so, while hagiology might be an interesting study of history, and it may even be spiritually rewarding, we do not learn about the saints to discover who might be the best intermediary, for we already have one who is also our mediator. And that is enough.

Saint Nicholas was born in what is modern-day Turkey around 270 BC. There are a lot of stories about him, but most of them are probably fictitious, created many years after he died. It is probably true, however, that his parents died when he was fairly young, that he grew up to become a faithful follower of Jesus Christ and that he was known for his generosity to the poor and his work of freeing slaves.

When Nicholas was born, Christianity was a forbidden religion, but during his lifetime, under the decree of Emperor Constantine, Christianity, along with several other religions, was made legal and quickly became the preferred religion of the Empire. The council of Nicea occurred during Nicholas’ lifetime, and it was at that council that the Nicean Creed was written in response to the heretic, Arius, who said that Jesus was not fully God. Rumour has it that Nicholas attended the Council and when a supporter of Arius became a little too obnoxious, Nicholas slapped him. This last story may not be true, but no one knows for certain.

Over the years, Nicholas was adopted as the patron saint in a number of places around Europe and Asia and eventually was given a special place in the Christian lore of the Dutch of northern Europe. On December 6 (or the evening of December 5), the Dutch have the tradition of celebrating Sinterklaas (named after Saint Nicholas), and they do so by giving gifts to each other, but especially to children. It is believed that Saint Nicholas gave gifts to the poor by throwing small bags of coins through their windows, and those bags would often land near the shoes and socks that had been put out to dry, leading to the tradition of the Dutch putting out their shoes to receives gifts as part of the celebration of Sinterklaas.

When the first Dutch immigrants came to North America in the early 1600s, they brought with them some of the traditions of home. They continued to celebrate Sinterklaas, and gradually their celebrations were enfolded into the growing American culture. Because non-Dutch speaking people didn’t fully understand the Dutch word, Sinterklaas, they heard it as Santa Claus, and thus the North American figure was born. His image was popularized by Coca Cola in 1931 when they commissioned an artist to depict him in a heartwarming holiday ad. The picture we have in our minds of Santa Claus looks nothing like the real Saint Nicholas, and he acts nothing like him either.

In fact, Santa Claus bears very little resemblance to the original Saint Nicholas in other ways, particularly in his attitude toward children. Saint Nicholas had a soft spot in his heart for poor children, and he sought to alleviate some of the impact of their poverty by secretly giving them gifts. This was an act of pure grace, for while Nicholas had no obligation to help the children, he did so anyway. Santa Claus also gives gifts to children, but his gifts are not based on need but, rather, on merit. Good boys and girls receive gifts, but bad boys and girls get nothing except, perhaps, a lump of coal, although I suspect none of us have heard of this actually happening. There is no grace in Santa Claus, for one must earn his gifts by being good.

Teaching their children about Santa Claus gives parents good opportunity to coerce their children into good behaviour by telling them that Santa won’t come unless they behave themselves. For almost an entire month, parents can resort to coercive tactics to teach their progeny to behave. Lest their children not take them seriously, some parents have resorted to hiding in plain site an elf, called an “elf on the shelf” who watches the children on behalf of Santa. That elf is placed in a new place each morning and acts as a sort of a nanny cam with a direct line to Santa’s workshop so Santa can make sure his list contains the names of only the good little boys and girls. This elf on the shelf is an effective method that parents can use to ensure that their children behave.

The story of Santa Claus is not about grace; it’s about merit. Only those who merit a gift will receive it. This is also a tactic which has been used by the Christian church over the years. In times when there was only one church in Europe, church leaders created an opportunity to use thuggery to get the people to do what they wanted them to do. By threatening excommunication from the church, church leaders could banish people to the eternal fires of hell. Threat of punishment is an effective way to evoke desired behaviour. Further, by telling people that they could escape an extended torturous existence in purgatory, a place where all people are “purged” of their sins, if they gave money to support cathedral building projects, the church was able to coerce people to give generously. By removing grace and replacing it with merit, the church was able to get people to act as the church desired them to act.

But that is not the gospel. While some evangelistic methods resort to coercive tactics (believe or you’ll go to hell), proper evangelism focuses on the message of grace wherein sinful people who have done nothing to deserve eternal life receive it because of the grace of Jesus Christ who gave his life on our behalf. Proper evangelism doesn’t scare people out of hell; it invites them to experience God’s grace. Proper evangelism does not reflect Santa Claus. Rather, a faithful presentation of the gospel reaches out to people who are sinners with the news that God has a gift to give them, a gift they did not deserve or earn.

That is why it is so important to keep Christ in Christmas. Santa Claus might seem like a jolly old fellow, but remember that his image was created by a corporate conglomerate to make money. Saint Nicholas, on the other hand, is remembered as one who reflects God’s grace and who better exemplifies the gift of Jesus Christ to this world. Saint Nicholas points us to Jesus, and, we can be sure, he would rather have Jesus remembered than himself. So, as we celebrate Christmas, let’s be sure that we remember it is about grace, God’s grace, and not something we earn or deserve.

Meritocracy. This is a word that caught my attention this past week. It is a compound word that has French, Latin, and Greek roots. “Merit” is that which has been earned and therefore deserved, and “cracy” speaks of power or authority and usually refers to those who rule. We are familiar with a democracy which is, literally, “rule by the people.” A meritocracy is “rule by those who have earned or deserve the right to have authority.” In a meritocracy those who rule would be those who have the education, experience or wisdom that enables them to rule well. We would hope that a democracy is also a meritocracy, but, as most people would agree, that is not always the case. Sadly, we often have people in positions of authority who should not be there. It does seem often our governments are more of a plutocracy, a rule by the rich, for it is the ones who have access to money who seem to win the elections.

We might wonder how our world might be different if the leaders of our nations were chosen on the basis of their merits. If, during an election, the people discussed the qualifications of an individual to lead, thinking about their experience, their education, their proven ability to make discerning decisions, would we choose different leaders? Generally, in our democracies, we choose candidates based on their promises to us, meaning that we choose those who will best benefit us rather than those who might be the best leaders. We should not wonder why so many are dissatisfied with their political leaders.

We can discuss meritocracy in the political sphere, but what about in the church? Is our church meritocratic, meaning that it is governed by those who have proven ability to lead? The Bible is clear when it guides us in the selection of leaders within the church. 1 Timothy 3 contains a list of qualifications for those who serve as elders (overseers) and deacons. Unfortunately, use of this chapter has sometimes been limited to arguing against (and for) women in office, but that is not Paul’s first intent for what he was saying to Timothy. Rather, as we read this chapter closely, we notice that what Paul is really concerned about is that the church be governed by people who have proven themselves to be spiritually mature and that that maturity is seen in the way they interact with their families and communities. Those who serve as leaders of the church should have a proven track record in the Christian leadership in their families, in the church and in the community at large.

For the main part, this is practiced in all the churches where I have served. When the congregation nominates individuals to serve as elders and deacons, the council reviews those names and evaluates the nominees on basis of their merits. Do they display the spiritual maturity and proven leadership skills necessary to lead a church to be faithful to the Lord? If not, the nominee is not presented to the congregation for consideration. Today we draw lots, but back a few decades ago churches would vote on the nominees, and it was expected that the congregation discern which of the nominees merited their vote. Sadly, those votes often became little more than popularity contests, with the result that some very qualified people never were asked to serve in a leadership position in the church. Churches moved to the lot system more out of necessity than for biblical reasons. (There are many who argue that drawing lots is not mandated in Scripture and therefore is an unacceptable method of choosing leaders, but that is another subject.) The procedures we follow do include an element of meritocracy, and for that we can be thankful.

But is the church a true meritocracy? It is not. At our elders meeting last week, we were led in a discussion about the calling of elders and deacons, particularly recognizing that it is Jesus Christ who appoints leaders in the church. True, he uses the church to identify and name those who will serve in leadership roles, but it is ultimately Jesus Christ who is the one who calls us to serve. The discussion we had centred around those who serve in the office of elder (it was an elders’ meeting, after all), but we could say that all those who serve in any capacity of leadership in the church (deacon, pastor, teacher, counsellor, Bible study leader, etc.) are also called by Jesus Christ to their task. While the church is called to identify those who merit a position of leadership, it is ultimately Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit, who calls and appoints people to their leadership role.

Thus, instead of seeing the church as a meritocracy (although meritocracy is present), it might be better to understand the church as a Christocracy, for it is Jesus Christ who ultimately reigns. This has at least two implications: first, those who are called to lead do so in the name of Christ and therefore can be confident to lead with authority. And the congregation is obligated to follow those who lead. The second implication, obviously, is that the leaders of the church do not lead with autonomy. Everything that the leaders do must be subject to the will and rule of Christ Jesus. Leaders of all kinds within the church must never forget that, for as soon as they do, they become illegitimate, for they no longer recognize Christ’s authority. We might say that the most important merit of the leaders of the church is that they recognize the authority of Jesus Christ in all areas of life, that the church is a Christocracy.

Our democracies are in a bit of a mess nowadays, and maybe they always have been. Democracies are based on the idea that the people govern themselves, and when people govern themselves, we must also wonder if they are making decisions for their own benefit. It is the human inclination to look after ourselves first. The church is not a democracy; it is a Christocracy, where Jesus Christ is the final authority in all things. It is also a meritocracy, but the one qualification that is absolutely necessary is that each leader submits him/herself to the will of Christ. When following Jesus Christ faithfully, it is hard to be selfish, as we often are in a democracy. When leaders submit to the will of Jesus Christ, those who seek to follow Jesus Christ as well will joyfully follow their leaders, and the church will grow in faithfulness and faith.

We can talk about it until the cows come home. I have used that expression without giving it much thought. Usually, we use this expression when we are having a discussion that seems to have no resolution. An example might be, “We can talk about what the most reliable tractor is until the cows come home, but…” What we mean to say is that though we may talk about something all afternoon, we won’t ever come to a resolution, so we might as well stop now and get back to work.

But where does this expression come from? When I was growing up on a dairy farm, my father would pasture the cows in the summer, often at the back of the farm where there was a woodlot. In the first month or so of summer, we would have to go back to the woodlot and chase the cows to the barn for feeding and milking. By the end of the summer, however, the cows sensed when the day was about over, and more often than not they would voluntarily return to the holding area outside of the barn right around milking time. At that point we dropped whatever we were doing, and we milked the cows. If we happened to be sitting on the veranda at the back of the house discussing one of those unresolvable issues, the conversation would stop when the cows came home. It was time to get back to work.

Yesterday, someone told me about a conversation she had had a few days earlier in which the individual wanted to argue the truth of the Bible. This individual said he didn’t believe because he didn’t trust the church because, he believed, the church had dismissed a number of books that should have been part of the Bible because the church wanted to control how people think. He didn’t trust the church, and he didn’t trust the Bible, and, consequently, he was not going to put his trust in Jesus. Clearly the member of our church and this individual could have had a conversation “until the cows came home” but they would never have come to a firm conclusion. He was dead set against the Christian faith and there was nothing that would change his mind.

I have talked with people like that, and they have all sorts of reasons not to be a Christian. They point to the failings of Christians, or they say that Scripture cannot be trusted, or they don’t like the organized church, or they name some other reason that they don’t want to believe. I have a fairly good education, and I often see the fallacies of their arguments, but even if I try to reason with them, we can talk until the cows come home, and we still won’t come to a resolution.

That expression, “until the cows come home,” seems to say that cows have more common sense than humans. Cows focus our attention on what we can and should be doing rather than on things that produce no fruit. I have an acquaintance who used to attend church who is always trying to discredit the Christian faith and church. (I think he was attending church because he was more interested in a girl from the congregation than he was in worshipping God.) I have had a number of rather fruitless conversations with him where neither of us budged. As much as I try to defend the truth of the gospel, the reliability of the Bible, and the blessings of the Christian community, he refuses to listen. We can (and have) talked until the cows come home, but there has been no fruit from our conversations for either of us.

It would have been better, in my mind, if I had simply stopped engaging him in conversation. There is another saying, “Make hay while the sun is shining.” In other words, do the work that is before us instead of talking on the back porch until the cows come home. It seems then, that like the cows who focus our attention on getting back to work, my time with my acquaintance would have been more productive had I been a better friend. I knew that he was somewhat lonely and that he had given up a lot to move to a new community to care for an aging relative. Looking back, it might have been better for me to find ways to encourage him rather than argue with him. (Truth be told, he was the one who baited me and almost forced me into discussions that would not be resolved. Especially in online discussions, he showed a mean and condescending attitude which was quite unpleasant. I don’t think he wanted encouragement, although, I have to confess, I didn’t try too hard.)

Sometimes there are times when conversations are pointless, for they will accomplish nothing. This is especially true of those who have no other intention than to discredit what we believe. We shouldn’t wait until the cows come home to end the discussion, for it will be wasted time.

However, that does not mean there is nothing we cannot do. As I mentioned before, we can find ways to love those who are so harsh in their view of the faith and the church. I suspect that they often arrive at their position because they have been hurt in some way and have become bitter against Christ and his church. Being kind and loving and focusing on being a friend might be far more productive than engaging them in an unresolvable argument.

Sometimes it is better to do rather than talk. There is a place for talking, of course, but when talking is fruitless, doing can be productive. Loving a bitter person might go a lot further than arguing with them. Loving someone with the same grace and compassion that God shows us might open doors to more fruitful discussions.

If we find ourselves in one of those situations where there will be no resolution, there is not much point in wasting the afternoon. If the cows have come home and we haven’t come to a resolution, perhaps we should have been out in the field making hay. Talking is good and important and necessary, but doing is often more productive. We should be out making hay when the sun shines instead of talking until the cows come home.