The Thorn of Time

Ps 90:4 For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.

I will reveal the proposition of this essay up front so that you will know that I am working toward a conclusion and not merely rambling in vain speculation, for I do tend to be a ramblin’ man. I propose: Those who have died in Christ are beyond time; therefore they are, as we who are enduring time speak, enjoying fellowship with those of us who will be with them in Heaven in our future. This thought gives me a great deal of joy here and now. I am happy that they are not languishing in a state of waiting for us to join them.

The elapsing of time is either eternal, or it only happens during the existence of the material universe. I think the latter because time is pointless unless there is something that can be measured by it, and I have not known God to do pointless things. We sing a song: “When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound and time shall be no more…”. I agree.

The elapsing of time began when God said, “Let there be….”. When the earth was spun and the greater and lesser lights were flung throughout the heavens, space and matter began to relate to time, but only to the slightest degree. Even after the creation of man, the passing of time was a non issue. I doubt that Adam and Eve were continually checking their day timers; BUT, when the fall of man took place in the garden, the whole creation came under a curse. Death, of course was one aspect of the curse. Thorns and thistles another; but death came into the picture and man’s days were numbered. When that happened, time vaulted into position as a tyrannical king over all things material. The second law of thermodynamics and its irrevocable entropy began, not just for man but the whole creation groans under it. All matter began it’s forced march toward absolute zero. I believe the enduring of time’s relentless despotism is a “thorn” of man’s curse. The hope of escaping our bondage to dwell in an existence where the meaning of “past” and “future” are annihilated is a blessed hope indeed, and the more time I endure, the more I know it. We speak in terms of “the present”, but loosely. We are riding the “train” of time, so the precise “present” is always passing by the window of our conveyance, just beyond our grasp. Before we have said “I am”….we were. The hope of the Christian is that he will finally disembark at the most joyous of destinations and at last “be” as the great “I Am” is.

Mercifully, time is relative. Let me be a little silly. A house fly has a life span of about a month. Should we then pity them? How do we know how fast time is passing for them? They seem to us to be buzzing and burning themselves out at an incredible rate, when perhaps they see themselves as eagles, lazily wafting on the currents. I can imagine two of them sitting on my knee enjoying carelessly discarded remnants of a sandwich. I gear up to make my hand move as fast as possible to swat them. Perhaps one says to the other: “I see the hand beginning to move.” “Yes” says the other. “I guess we’ll eventually have to fly, but let’s have lunch first. Mmmmm, peanut butter and jelly! Let me check the radar and see where the hand is. Yes, the hand is still coming in our direction, but it won’t be here for a while. When it gets over us, let’s fly and meet on the other knee. Perhaps he wiped some of his sandwich on that one too. We’d better get some sleep before the long trip. It’ll take a thousand flaps to get over there non stop.” Now back to my awareness of time. My hand comes down so hard I hurt my knee, but to no avail. They are already gone. Do flies go through puberty on the 6th day? Do they get fat and bald and have mid life crises on days 12 and 13? Who knows?

About 4 months ago, I began my 34th avocation; working for a Farmers’ Coop in the fertilizer dept. On rainy days when we can’t spread or spray we only work 9 hrs. These are terribly long days we spend in the shop fixing what broke, maintaining machinery, topping off Roundup shuttles and fuel tanks, filling anhydrous wagons, laughing and crying with customers and playing Euchre. When it dries out, all that isn’t set in concrete breaks loose. First light ‘til dark; but it seems that the Sun fairly flies across the sky! I think we all prefer these days when time finds another gear.

At my age, time has found another gear. Far from lamenting it, I see it as one of the benefits of aging. We are made to know full well that we will not be stuck here forever, thank God! Perhaps the acceleration of time as we age is preparing us to be free of it all together.

When I say that those departed brethren are dwelling beyond time, I am not saying that they are, like Oxenham’s thoughts, “Bees in Amber”; in stasis, awaiting activation. That is not a very alluring prospect. It certainly was not the state of Abraham and Lazarus in Luke 16. No. They have “Zoe” life. In other words: life as God has it. A living, active, blissful and purposeful type of existence. Those of us who have been saved have “Zoe” life also in our spirits, but because our bodies are still slaves to time we can only see it through a glass, darkly. We should also remember the rich man of Luke 16. He was in eternity, but not with Zoe.

Let the more precise Greek language elucidate. The Greeks had at least two words for life. One is “Bios” which simply means “life” by its most rudimentary definition. Using oxygen, consuming and excreting, reproducing. Amoebae have “bios” but certainly not the other term for life: “zoe”. (I don’t think. Perhaps Amoebae have some pretty wild parties.) When Jesus said John 10:10 The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly . He used the term “zoeen”. An abundant life that is far beyond mere bios. We Christians who are still here enduring the curse of time have a foretaste of “zoeen”, but we will not know it’s full glories until we pass over into a dimension where time is not a factor.

It is we who are still in time who endure the suffering caused by the loss of loved ones; but my suffering is considerably ameliorated by the thought that my mother, my grandparents, and other Christian friends who have escaped, as I write, may be in my company in a land where we have realization of our full potential and are employing and enjoying it without limits. “Without limits” is the wonderful abundance of this sort of life.

One may object to my theme because of Rev. 6:10 where the souls of the martyrs cry out “How long?” How long before you avenge our deaths, Lord? If this is taken literally, then trash this essay; and I will have to trash a lot of what I believe about the afterlife. My opinion is that the souls of those martyrs are not suffering pangs of impatience. My opinion is that they no more literally cried this out than Abel’s blood literally cried out for vengeance on Cain. It is symbolic imagery depicting the nature of God’s justice; which sometimes seems slow, but is nevertheless inexorable. Surely any martyr for the faith will be too overwhelmed by the glories of this wonderful estate to worry about past indignities. If anyone would have been within rights to call God to hurry His vengeance it would have been Paul. Instead he says 2 Cor 4:17 For our light affliction , which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; Surely any martyr who is made fully like his master has forgotten his suffering and would rather cry for forgiveness. I can’t fathom a place called “Paradise” being similar to a street in Tehran full of people burning their enemies in effigy and screaming for the powers that be to even the score. If that’s paradise, I don’t wanna go.

One may also object to my inferences on the basis of Paul’s statement about the Christian martyrs in Heb 12:1 Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses…. Many assume from this that they are in Paradise as if in a great grandstand watching (witnessing) us as we run the race here and cheering us on, hence, waiting for us to finish the race and join them (which necessitates the endurance of elapsing time). I believe Paul is not saying that they are witnesses of us, rather he says that they are witnesses to us by the lasting memory of their lives.

Any reference to the afterlife that seems to require the element of passing time must be a concession needed to convey it to us in understandable terms.

I do not believe that those who have passed on are aware of anything we are doing “down here”; because for them we are already there. To be absent from the body and present with the Lord is an existence free of tears. Surely, if they were witnessing our journey through time, our foibles and struggles would cause them tears. Oh! How I would hate to think of my mother observing my temper tantrums! (Which, I must hastily add, are mild and fleeting compared to what they used to be) I remember how they bothered her so when she was rearing me. I was the oldest of 5 children and sometimes took advantage of my size in order to subjugate my siblings. In short, I was a bully. Back before every child had to have a room of their own, we three brothers all slept in a small bedroom. A full bed and a half bed were squeezed in wall to wall. If I wanted to sleep and my brothers were horsing around I would threaten; “One more ‘peep’ and it’s 5 minutes in the ‘crack’”! Sure enough, one of those little imps would go “peep”. My wrath instantly fell upon him and he was shoved down into the dreaded “crack” between the mattresses where he remained immobilized (and perhaps suffocating, which concerned me not in the least.) Mom called my treatment of them “strong arm tactics” and she cared not at all for them. Regardless, the last words I remember her saying to me were “You’re doing a wonderful work, son.” I was 750 miles away doing that work when she died. I tried to talk with her on the phone when my sister called and informed me that she was on the “home stretch”. By that time she was unable to communicate with me. Sometimes time and space are a terrible curse. I was always gone. She called me “the wandering Jew.” I was gone a wandering when she died. Gone a wandering when Grandpa and Grandma died. Gone a wandering when my nephew died. Gone. Gone a wandering. Now, praise God, I believe that as far as they are concerned I am not gone. They are not anxiously watching and waiting; straining to see over some distant aqueous horizon for the first glimpse of the flag on my mast. I am already there with them in a land where time and space are of no consequence. It is I who must endure what few years I may have left without them. It is I who must endure time.

It is they who are temporarily gone from me. If I remain faithful to the profession of my faith, I am no longer gone from them.

Golf, Healing, Ugly Cars

Golf used to fascinate me. I lived within a few blocks of a beautiful 9 hole course in a sparsely populated area. For $90 a year you could play as much as you wanted and you never had to call for a "tee time". If I needed to clear my head and get a little fresh air and exercise, I could jump out of my office chair and be teeing off in 5 minutes and back in an hour and a half. I probably averaged 3 rounds a week for several years. Sometimes I played using only a 3 wood. Sometimes I had the course all to myself and I played without clubs and threw the ball, rolling it like a bocce ball when I was on the greens. I even played in the dead of Winter, though the clubs lose their flex and shots are shorter. Yes, you can see the ball. As white as it may be it is not nearly as white as snow. I was never good enough to play in a tournament but good enough to stay out of the rough and enjoy the game.

The fascination was that I couldn’t master it. I would think, "now my slice is cured" but it would come back. I would think, "I can sink every put within five feet" then I would start missing the easy ones. Breaking 80 was a quixotic dream, but 84 was the best round I ever had, no "mulligans". There are so many variables that one simply cannot foresee and compensate for them all. Even after I had reached the peak of my game, I could go out with someone who had never held a club before and he could give me serious competition. I had a friend who was a carpenter. His hand eye coordination was sharply honed. He said he had never played before, and I was amazed at how quickly he caught on. The fourth round I played with him, he beat me; and I never beat him again. Among us duffers, it seems that golf is the great equalizer.



This is also how it seems when it comes to interpreting scripture. I have been taught the Bible all my life, informally and formally; and people paid me a salary for over 40 years to study and teach it. Despite this, new territory keeps appearing. I try never to discount what new converts say in my classes, simply because of their naiveté. They have the guidance of the indwelling Holy Spirit also and they are viewing the scripture from a fresh perspective. I pay attention to their questions and comments and sometimes they open new pastures of thought for me to graze in.

I think some Bible teachers will not suffer to be challenged, perhaps because of insecurity. They feel that showing a hesitancy or admitting an outright mistake will damage their credibility. Even experts in the "hard" sciences may have a lapse of competence, but with the Bible, who would dare to think he has cornered the market on knowing the mind of God? Is that not what we believe the Bible is? If we tell someone that the Bible is the Word of God, and then purport to be an infallible judge of all it says; I should think we are at more risk of losing credibility.

I think I have taught in err on a certain subject, and the balance of this paper will be a "mea culpa" and hopefully a correction of that mistake. The scripture in question is I Corintians 13:8-10 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

I do not believe that the supernatural gifts ("charismata") from the Holy Spirit are in existence today. I have often used the above text as proof of that. I learned that this was a "proof text" in Bible College; not from a professor, but from a fellow student in an informal home Bible study. Since college, I have heard various teachers and preachers use it as a proof text against the current existence of the charismata. It made sense to me at the time, and so I have perpetuated it also. Most of you who read this have never had an experience that you thought might be the charismata. I say again, I do not believe the charismata to be in existence today; but I no longer believe the above text to be proof of that. There are other passages that prove that to me, some Patristic writings (2nd century historical testimonies) and many personal experiences. The book of Acts, particularly the 8th chapter makes it clear to me that the charismata could only be conferred by the laying on of the hands of one who held the apostolic office. They were also conferred by the arbitrary volition of the resurrected and ascended Jesus, and that was only on 2 specific occasions and for obvious reasons: Pentecost (Acts 2) and the first Gentile conversions (Acts 10).

No one can qualify for the apostolic office today. No one today was witness to the ministry of Jesus from His baptism by John. No one today has seen Him resurrected. (Acts 1:21,22) No one can be bitten by deadly snakes or drink poison unharmed. (Mark 16:17,18) Handling snakes that have been kept in a pop cooler is one thing. Being bitten by one is another. Sometimes those pop coolers get a little warm and someone gets bitten. He swells up and dies without medical help just like anyone else would. There are those who claim to hold the office, but how can they verify it? I could claim it too, but what reason would you have to believe me? The Pope claims it, but why does he have to apologize for and rescind the supposedly inspired statements of his "apostolic" predecessors? Can an apostle resign? If the apostolic office still exists, then we do not have "the faith once delivered unto the saints." (Jude 3) Who knows what new information will issue forth in the next Papal encyclical or from the next "prophet"? Who can be sure of anything?

No. There the office of "apostle" does not exist today. Of course I believe Jesus still has the ability to confer the charismata, but He has made no prediction or promise to dispense it to modern folk. He fulfilled His promises and the prophecies on the Day of Pentecost. I have witnessed nothing that convinces me that the charismata exist today. In fact, what I have witnessed and experienced has only confirmed my belief that they do not now exist. What is being called the "charismata" today bears little resemblance to what transpired in the 1st century. Today’s exercises are for personal benefit, with no transfer of valuable information to edify the whole congregation. They may excite but they do not instruct. A football team may have sensational pep rallies but if it’s players do not know the playbook, they will lose. Today’s "tongues" are not known languages and dialects. Today’s exercises violate instructions for their usage given in I Cor. 14.

I said that personal experience was a part of my motive to believe that the charismata do not exist today. May I bare my soul about something that happened long ago?

I am fearful to tell this because I know this paper may fall into the hands of some of my former professors who taught me better. You must understand that I had not seen any evidence that God was at work in me for many months. I had been in ministry for a while. Long enough for a steady diet of death, suffering, and running to put out one brush fire after another to wear me down to the point of despair. When the song leader picked out the hymn "There is Joy in Serving Jesus" I did not sing. For me, it would have been a lie. I wasn’t serving Jesus at all. I was serving my perception of my congregation’s expectations of what the minister ought to be and do.

I had just returned from a long trip to the hospital where a dear lady lay ill. In my opinion, it was not her time. She was a sterling example of Christian womanhood; a "Dorcas" to our congregation. She had many more years to give, I thought. I prayed fervently, in full faith that the Lord would restore her. She died in surgery.

You must understand that it had been a hard year for our church. We had lost 3 faithful members to illness. I was like Jacob, wrestling with the Lord and swearing not to let Him go until I received a blessing. "Lord" I said, "Where is Your power? I must have Your power executed when I pray! If I cannot see some results soon, I will judge myself an unfit servant and give up the ministry!" I was stunned by this lady’s death. I felt like I had been slapped in the face by God. I was ashamed that my grief was mostly for me; not the lady’s family. I felt as if God was saying "You don’t count little preacher! I have better things to do than answer the prayers of a nobody like you. Bug off and don’t bother Me any more!" I remember nothing about the 3 hr. return trip from the hospital.

I had a good friend in my community who was a minister who believed in the charismata. I didn’t go to my house. I drove straight to his office. He knew something was wrong when I walked through his door. "I MUST get the gift of healing!" I blurted out. Immediately he took my shoulders and we both sank to our knees. Prayers of desperation began to flow cathartically from both of us. He laid hands on me. "Ken! You must speak in tongues!" I said, "I don’t want to speak in tongues. I want God to heal when I ask Him to." "I know", he said, "but before God will give you any other gift, you must speak in tongues. That is the first sign that God has baptized you in the Holy Spirit." I knew what I had been taught about Spirit baptism but I was ready to chuck it because what I knew wasn’t working. We prayed for probably two hours. Long enough that our knees got painful. We both laid face down on the carpet. We soaked that poor carpet with tears and sweat. 3 more hours went by. It was dark, long past suppertime. The late afternoon sun that had been streaming through his window had turned to stars. All of a sudden he jumped to his feet and pulled me up. "Look at me!" he demanded. "Don’t blink! There is an evil spirit keeping God from blessing you! Don’t blink! Let me see if I can tell what it is! Don’t blink! I am seeing letters! "T" "H" "E"….he kept going until he had spelled the word "theology". "That’s it! Ken! You must throw everything you have learned about theology out of your mind and start over again!"

At this point I lost all hope of receiving the charismata, but I tried not to show my disappointment. He had worked so hard with me for so long and I still appreciate his concern for me and willingness to help. I forget what I said next but our meeting ended. He said "God bless you and keep praying brother! You’ll get it!" I walked out his door and groped my way slowly home. For the next few days I was in a fog. People noticed my preoccupation and asked if I was feeling well. Was there a Holy Spirit? Was there a God at all? No one could have been more pure in heart and fervent about a genuine need than I was. Then I sank into the well of self loathing. Perhaps I was not pure in heart at all. Perhaps I was just too wicked to receive gifts. Perhaps God knew I would become proud. And what about God? Perhaps He was an elitist Who only gifted people who smelled of success. Did He deem me a non player? Had I been cast onto the scrap pile? Perhaps even a person of no consequence; someone to be ignored? I felt like Isaiah saying "Here am I! Send me!" But the Lord just looked over my head as if I were invisible.

I studied the scriptures hard. I remember poring over and over Reese’s special studies on the Holy Spirit. Notes I had filed. Other commentaries. Greek lexicons. There was no sudden epiphany, but gradually little shafts of light began to penetrate. I decided to quit begging God. If He wanted to heal He would do it; if not, then forget it. "His will be done". I became Stoic and fatalistic (and am to this day). The passion went out of my intercessory prayer life, and I don’t necessarily consider that a bad thing. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh. Blessed be the name of the Lord." I came to depend upon my "covenantal" relationship with God. Sometimes I felt it, sometimes not; but how I felt didn’t matter anymore. The covenant still said the same thing. At least I finally had peace.

I know this is a subjective experience that cannot be corroborated; but perhaps it will help you understand why I believe as I do. Prayer is always a matter of faith and obedience. Only by faith can we say He has heard and answered. I know God still hears and answers prayer, but He no longer uses specially gifted persons as mediums through which to channel His power. He can use me, or He can use a maggot if He wishes. He always does what is right, and I don’t always know what is right.

Now let us get back to the words of I Cor. 13. Paul says that when the "perfect" comes, that which is "partial" will end. We know that the "partial" is referring to the charismata; but what is "that which is perfect"? Many who claim to practice the charismata today say that the "perfect" is Christ. Since Christ has not come yet (so the reasoning is) the charismata still exist. The flaw in this rationale is that the original word for "perfect" was rendered in the neuter gender, meaning that it was a perfect thing and not a perfect person; to wit, I am fairly sure it was not referring to Christ.

What, then, is the perfect thing? Here is where I believe my reasoning was wrong. I thought the perfect, whole, completed thing was the completed and circulated New Testament. It made sense because the particular charismata referred to: (prophecy, tongues, and knowledge) were primarily means of revealing God’s will to men before they had the whole New Testament.

I have since realized that it is highly unlikely that the 27 books of the New Testament were suddenly available to everyone at the end of the first century. All 27 books that we have were not recognized as inspired until 170 ad at the earliest, and the common man would not have access to all of them for centuries after that. The completion and circulation of the New Testament was not the thing that caused the charismata to cease. It was the death of the apostles and the subsequent deaths of those upon whom they laid hands. That doesn’t seem to be an event qualified to be called "that which is perfect".



What I failed to do is a cardinal error in Bible interpretation: I failed to think within the context. What is the main emphasis of I Cor. 13? Do we not call it "the love chapter"? The whole gist of Paul’s message is to seek after the traits of Christian maturity; and there is none more exhibited by the mature than love (charity). He has just finished a beautiful description of what love is. It is clear that through the whole chapter that Paul intends to elevate love in comparison to prophecy, tongues, etc. Look at the introduction to his thoughts on love: 1 Cor 13:1-3 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. It is obvious here that there are traits of varying importance. The charismata are at the bottom of the list.

Examine the conclusion to his thoughts on love: 1 Cor 13:11-13 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.



Clearly Paul is saying; (my paraphrase and commentary) "The charismata are scintillating, but they are for the immature. As one becomes mature, he will devalue these by comparison and realize that charity is where the rubber meets the road. Charity is the purest imitation of God. Charity is what will propagate, proliferate and become the hallmark of the Kingdom. The charismata are the ‘childish things’. The charismata are granted to the new Christian. The mature may still be able to perform them, but they prefer things often less glamorous, but more useful. Things like sacrificial love."

Illustration: I used to like cars that pleased the senses. It had to have "curb appeal". But cars have to do more than look good sitting by the curb. I couldn’t stand the sound of anything but a gas guzzling big block. When I sat in the seat, I liked my rear to ride about 6 inches off the pavement. I liked wide tires, fancy wheels, and four barrel carbs. Funny how things change. Now gas mileage is job #1. Small, ugly vehicles with horns that go "beep beep" instead of playing "Dixie". Spartan accommodations; getting me from point A to B as cheaply as possible with room for luggage. Cars that handle ice and snow well. Function is all I care about.

I guess you could compare these different styles of cars to the charismata, and things that are not so charismatic. The young believer is at first fascinated by the aesthetic. As he matures, his interests turn to things that get the job done in the trenches. Things like faith, hope, and love.

In summary: Do I believe the charismata exist today? No. Do I believe I Cor. 13:8-10 proves that? No. I believe "that which is perfect" refers to Christian maturity.

We will never be fully grown in this life. Not until we reach Paradise will we see face to face and know as we are known. Until then, love is the highest goal we can achieve.

Henceforth I will see vs. 8-10 in their proper context, adding even more wealth to one of the richest chapters in all of scripture.