“Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by?                        

Look and see

if there is any sorrow like my sorrow,

which was brought upon me,

which the Lord inflicted

on the day of his fierce anger.

From on high he sent fire;

into my bones he made it descend;

he spread a net for my feet;

he turned me back;

he has left me stunned,

faint all the day long.” (Lamentations 1.12-13)

Do you remember 9/11?  If you’re old enough, then of course you do.  Even without a year specified, and even though “9/11” could mean a few different things, you didn’t have to stop to select one.  Some of that may have to do with the timing of this article, but that’s neither the only, nor the largest reason you immediately thought of particular incidents that occurred on September 11, 2001.  It was a once-in-a-lifetime inflection point—a date when everything changed, and everyone knew why.  There’s now a generation of young adults who don’t remember that day, and to them it could perhaps seem like the old coots are making a fuss over nothing. 

“Look among the nations, and see;

wonder and be astounded.

For I am doing a work in your days

that you would not believe if told.” (Habakkuk 1.5)

The death toll from the terrorist attacks was 2,977.  Each of those deaths is terrible, but more than 9,000 people die every day in this country.  September 11 was a blip on the graph of 2001, but it amounted to only about one-tenth of one percent of the country’s 2.4 million deaths that year.  But that’s not all it meant.  It wasn’t just the number of deaths, or the thousands of injured who survived.  Everything changed that day, because it was an attack on our way of life.  The West’s corruption, hedonism, and materialism were major elements of the terrorists’ motives, which is why they primarily targeted the World Trade Center—a symbol of economic prosperity, but also of greed.

“For from the least to the greatest of them,

everyone is greedy for unjust gain;

and from prophet to priest,

everyone deals falsely.” (Jeremiah 6.13)

But those unsavory aspects of America were enabled by more positive elements—hard work, planning ahead, rewarding good behavior, and allowing economic and religious freedom.  To the average American, that all went without saying on September 10.  The next morning, everything changed.  The attacks shattered our illusion of safety; but it wasn’t that we were no longer safe.  It impacted us so severely, because it showed us we’d never been as safe as we’d thought!

This is the exultant city

that lived securely,

that said in her heart,

“I am, and there is no one else.”

What a desolation she has become,

a lair for wild beasts!

Everyone who passes by her

hisses and shakes his fist. (Zephaniah 2.14)

But in an even deeper sense, watching the attacks unfold on live TV told us at a gut level that the underpinnings of our society were much more fragile and susceptible to harm than we thought.  It told us that people we’d never met, whom we didn’t consider to be our enemies, could feel so aggrieved by our existence, and our economic, religious, and strategic decisions, as to lash out against us in a bid to sow chaos, pain, and death.

That’s a very brief (and not at all thorough) summary of what 9/11 meant.  But the passages quoted along the way weren’t about 9/11, or about America.  They were about the fall and destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple to Nebuchadnezzar’s Babylonian army in 586 BC.  There’s some debate about the exact year and date, but on or just after the 7^th of Av, corresponding roughly to July 16, 586 BC, everything changed for God’s chosen people.  It was an existential crisis.  He had said of the Temple,

“I have chosen and consecrated this house that my name may be there forever. My eyes and my heart will be there for all time.” (2 Chronicles 7.16)

Yet now that Temple was gone, and so were the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the capital; and the Davidic line of kings who were promised that city’s throne forever; and the nation’s populace, who were taken into exile; and to a great extent the nation’s identity, as they were eaten up and left to rot away in their enemies’ lands (Le 26.38-39).  Of the land God had promised to the descendants of Abraham forever, they said,

O God, the nations have come into your inheritance;

they have defiled your holy temple;

they have laid Jerusalem in ruins.

They have given the bodies of your servants

to the birds of the heavens for food,

the flesh of your faithful to the beasts of the earth.

They have poured out their blood like water

all around Jerusalem,

and there was no one to bury them.

We have become a taunt to our  neighbors,

mocked and derided by those around us.

How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever?

Will your jealousy burn like fire? (Psalm 79.1-5)

Our 9/11 is only the merest taste of what that day, now remembered as Tisha B’Av, meant to the Jews.  Next week, we’ll see why God, despite his many promises, allowed this to happen, and what it all means for us.  But for now, use the memory of that awful day 21 years ago, to better understand how the Jews felt during their captivity.

Why do you forget us forever,

why do you forsake us for so many days?

Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may be restored!

Renew our days as of old—

unless you have utterly rejected us,

and you remain exceedingly angry with us. (Lamentations 5.20-22)

Jeremy Nettles

Now on the tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. It shall be for you a time of holy convocation, and you shall afflict yourselves and present a food offering to the Lord. And you shall not do any work on that very day, for it is a Day of Atonement, to make atonement for you before the Lord your God. (Leviticus 23.27-28)

What sets the Day of Atonement apart from all the other holidays God gave to Israel is that it was the one time in the year when the high priest was to enter the Most Holy Place to perform his priestly duties.  He was to burn incense before the ark and sprinkle blood from animals offered to atone for his own sins, and those of the people.  That was the central and defining moment of the holiday, but it involved many other important details.

Having already selected a bull for his own sin offering and a ram for his burnt offering, the high priest was to begin the ritual by bathing and putting on his designated clothing (Le 16.3-4).  Then the populace was to present him with two goats—one as a sin offering—and a ram—as the people’s burnt offering (v5).  The high priest would then present the bull before God at the entrance of the tent of meeting, kill it, and take some of its blood, along with incense and coals from the altar, into the Most Holy Place, where the core of the ritual was to be performed (vv11-12). 

Having filled the room with smoke from the incense and sprinkled the blood of his sin offering (the bull) before the ark of the covenant (vv13-14), he would then exit and retrieve the first goat, which was the people’s sin offering, and repeat the sprinkling process before the ark (v15).  The purpose of all this was “to make atonement … for himself and for his house and for all the assembly of Israel” (v17), but there’s still more to come!  This includes making atonement for the altar, putting blood from the goat on its horns in order to “cleanse it and consecrate it from the uncleannesses of the people of Israel” (v19).  They were left with two rams still alive, as well as one goat.  The high priest was to lay his hands on the goat’s head and confess Israel’s sins over it, then commit the goat to a man previously selected for the task of leading the goat away into a remote part of the wilderness, where he was to “let the goat go free” (v22). 

Sending away the scapegoat, symbolically carrying far away the guilt from their sins, was the culmination of the atonement ritual; but we should, perhaps, not be surprised that there are more duties to follow, for all involved.  There are still a dead bull, a dead goat, and two live rams—sin offerings and burnt offerings left unfinished, with further processing and immolation on the schedule.  But while this was the high priest’s job, he had something else to do, first. 

Then Aaron shall come into the tent of meeting and shall take off the linen garments that he put on when he went into the Holy Place and shall leave them there. And he shall bathe his body in water in a holy place and put on his garments and come out and offer his burnt offering and the burnt offering of the people and make atonement for himself and for the people. And the fat of the sin offering he shall burn on the altar. (Leviticus 16.23-25)

Then, there’s the man who had taken the scapegoat out and set him loose in the wilderness.  He was still required to “wash his clothes and bathe his body in water, and afterward he may come into the camp” (v26). 

Finally, although the offerings were now completed, the portion of the sin offerings (the bull and goat) burned on the altar was surprisingly small, amounting to the animals bulk fat, kidneys, and part of the liver (cf. Le 4.8-9).  What was to be done with the great majority of each carcass?  It was to be taken out of the camp and

burned up with fire. And he who burns them shall wash his clothes and bathe his body in water, and afterward he may come into the camp. (Leviticus 16.27-28)

In short, the idea is that the sins of the priesthood and the populace have been symbolically transferred to the scapegoat, and the penalty for those sins transferred to the bull and other goat.  The act of sending the former away, and offering the latter up to God brings about reconciliation between God and his people—but everyone who came into contact with that sin, even in the process of casting it away, is now tainted by it, and must clean off that taint before re-entering society.  It’s like the reaction any mom would have, after dad and the boys finish fixing the septic tank or sewer line and try to come inside: “Stay out there and strip. I’ll get the hose—you are not bringing that into my house!”

God went to great lengths to show Israel how they should look at sin, teaching them in a visceral way to be disgusted by it and keep away from its taint.  He wants us to learn that same lesson, but today there is no longer a need to offer these annual sacrifices, because Jesus is the reality—the one who cast these shadows.  He approached God’s heavenly throne with his own perfect blood, the only truly atoning sacrifice for sin.  He “suffered outside the gate” (He 13.12) and carried away the sins of the world, not just symbolically but spiritually.  We all participated spiritually in offering him up as our atoning sacrifice.  What must we do, before we’re fit to enter the city of God?  Like everyone involved in the sacrifices on the Day of Atonement, we must have “our bodies washed with pure water” (He 10.22).  Then, we must put on clean clothes.  Only those who “have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Re 7.14) are joined to God’s people and fit to enter his Presence.

Jeremy Nettles

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people… (1 Peter 2.9-10)

You’ve probably seen or heard the term, Christian nationalism, and with increasing frequency.  What is it?  Is it an acceptable ideology before God?  Most of the time, when Christian nationalism is brought up in the public square, it’s for the purpose of demonizing the ideology and its adherents, and there are legitimate concerns.  But they’re concerning  because of God’s instructions, not some public figure’s opinion. 

Broadly speaking, nationalism is the notion that the leaders of each nation-state should put that nation’s own interests first in its governance.  This is distinguished from globalism, the idea that rulers’ responsibility is to the whole world, even at the expense of their own citizens.  How, then, does “Christian” modify “nationalism”?  The idea espoused by Christian nationalists in the United States is that this was founded as an explicitly Christian nation, should remain so, and that Christianity should be politically privileged over other religions.  Inasmuch as Christianity is the true religion and every person on earth ought to hear and obey the gospel, that doesn’t sound so bad; but as noted above, there are problems to consider.

Some blur the line between Christ and the state, effectively making an idol out of the latter.  This appears in a variety of ways, but is most easily observed in the tendency to make a political leader into an imitation of the Messiah, with the reasoning that, just as soon as so-and-so gets all the power, all of our problems will be solved.  But Jesus said, “the poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me” (Jn 12.8).  God’s kingdom is heavenly, and so is his salvation.  This is both foolishness and idolatry.

Another problem occurs when Christians treat their faith as nothing but a justification for their political beliefs.  Our faith should determine our position on political issues, of course, but if you’ve never altered your stance on a political question based on what the Bible says, and instead have only used it to find justifications for your prior convictions, you’re doing it backward!

Then there’s the problem of reading God’s promises to Israel, and determining that modern America has replaced Israel as God’s chosen people, as if the passage in 1 Peter 2, quoted above, were aimed directly at America.  This is absurd.  It’s the same nonsense preached by the Black Hebrew Israelites (who claim they’re the true descendants of Abraham), and by the somehow even more ridiculous White British Israelites (who don’t call themselves that, but they’re definitely out there—in more ways than one!).  God’s people are those who are faithful—“Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham” (Ga 3.7).

But despite these legitimate concerns, that’s not what those in politics and the media have in mind, when deriding Christian nationalism.  They’re primarily concerned with things like getting rid of Christian words and symbols from the public sphere, and doing away with Christian morality in laws.  In the case of religious art or teaching in public, what’s the alternative?  Man is inherently religious.  Remove religious symbols from public, and they will soon be replaced by others, perhaps of a false religion, or even more likely, by the symbols and teaching of the secular establishment, which is its own religion.  What about the influence of Christian morality in the law?  The alternative here is simply injustice.  You can’t be a Christian, and believe that anyone other than God should be the final word on justice and morality.

Note that the term, Christian nationalist, deliberately evokes the similar-sounding but wildly different white nationalist.  It’s possible to find avowed white supremacists who speak in support of Christian nationalism, but true Christianity demands we recognize the God-given worth of every person, regardless of race.  Christ’s kingdom has, from the very beginning, cared not a whit about skin color or national origin—the first Christians came from a group of

Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians… (Acts 2.9-11)

Christian nationalism is mostly invoked to suggest that you’re a bigot, if you profess to be a Christian and believe that Christians have a duty to “make disciples of all nations” (Mt 28.19).  This is done in order to pressure Christians to stop acting on their faith in public—in effect, to stop being Christians.  Don’t take the bait.

For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ…(Philippians 3.18-20)

You’ll find the people of whom Paul warns, at both of the extreme ends of this argument—on one side, using Christ’s kingdom as a club to enforce their earthly will, and on the other side, the same thing, dressed up differently.  But while we’re bound to be born into some kind of political structure and citizenship, our real citizenship, the one that matters, is in heaven.  Live accordingly.

Jeremy Nettles

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. (Matthew 5.17)

Statements like this from Jesus have led some Christians to conclude that the Law of Moses is still in effect for God’s people today.  Never mind that Paul tells us Jesus brought Jew and Gentile together “by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances” (Ep 2.15), or that “the law was our guardian until Christ came” (Ga 3.24).  Never mind that the Jews’ covenant with God ended when one party to the contract—Jesus—died.  Never mind even that God predicted, while the first covenant still stood,

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah…” (Jeremiah 31.31)

Despite these assurances, one of the quibbles that still comes up is the assertion that the Jews’ dietary code applies to Christians.

Jesus would seem to have settled this argument, when he spoke to his confused disciples about onerous requirements enforced by the Pharisees and scribes.

“Do you not see that whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile him, since it enters not his heart but his stomach, and is expelled?” (Thus he declared all foods clean.) (Mark 7.18-19)

However, as straightforward as this sounds, objections still arise.  Where the ESV says, “Thus he declared all foods clean,” the Greek text is more concise; saying, “καθαρίζων πάντα τὰ βρώματα” (katharizōn panta ta brōmata, “purifying all foods”).  But there’s a minuscule difference among the manuscripts.  It hinges on whether the final vowel of the word behind our English “purifying” is a long ō, or a short ŏ.  This tiny difference in sound and appearance is more important than it seems.  If it’s ō, then Mark is adding his own parenthesis, telling us that, by the way, this teaching in effect means all foods are clean.  If it’s ŏ, then Jesus is saying the process of digestion and excretion means all foods end up as the same thing, and in the same place.  This is the path followed by the King James Version and its derivatives, translating the phrase, “purging all meats” (KJV).  If that’s the case, there’s some little room for debate.

Proponents of the dietary code for Christians haste to point out God’s instruction to Noah,

“Take with you seven pairs of all clean animals, the male and his mate, and a pair of the animals that are not clean, the male and his mate…” (Genesis 7.2)

This was eons before the Law of Moses, and yet a distinction between clean and unclean animals is already assumed.  But, while this is related to the dietary code in Leviticus 11, it’s not the whole story—before the flood, God hadn’t given man license to eat meat yet, at all (cf. Ge 1.29-30, 9.3)!

Some Christians make the huge mistake of ignoring the Old Testament.  Others make the equally huge mistake of relying too heavily on it, and misunderstanding God’s purpose for preserving it as a gift to us.  In these latter cases, there’s a continual push to mirror some of God’s commandments to the ancient Israelites.  However, that’s not what Christ planned or instructed.  In one vision, he set Peter straight on two points.

…he fell into a trance and saw the heavens opened and something like a great sheet descending, being let down by its four corners upon the earth. In it were all kinds of animals and reptiles and birds of the air. And there came a voice to him: “Rise, Peter; kill and eat.” But Peter said, “By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” And the voice came to him again a second time, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” (Acts 10.10-15)

The more important point is that the gospel is for Gentiles, too.  But the vision makes no sense, unless the animals are made clean! Given the opportunity to bind the dietary code on new Gentile converts a few years later, the apostles and elders at Jerusalem instead told them,

“For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay on you no greater burden than these requirements: that you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols, and from blood, and from what has been strangled, and from sexual immorality. If you keep yourselves from these, you will do well.” (Acts 15.28-29)

This is about as conclusive as it can be.  The dietary code was one of the defining, visible distinctions between Jews and Gentiles, and if God intended for it to be carried over into the new covenant through Christ, this was the time to make that clear.  But he said nothing of the kind.  Later, when Paul addresses this very point, he says things like,

“One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables” (Ro 14.2).  Or, again, “Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink” (Co 2.16).  He even warns that some Christians will distort the teaching of Christ, including those who

require abstinence from foods that God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth. For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God and prayer. (1 Timothy 4.3-5)

Of course, anyone who wishes to abide by dietary restrictions is free to do so.  But don’t bind them on others; don’t start thinking it makes you better; don’t put your trust in your own works.  If you’re a Christian, Christ has sanctified you.  You didn’t do it by abstaining from food or drink.  Cleansing comes from God, through the purifying and atoning sacrifice of his Son.  Put your trust in him.

Jeremy Nettles

The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later. So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden. (1 Timothy 5.24-25)

A persistent gripe among atheists and others hostile toward Christ and the Bible, is that the ostensibly perfect and unchangeable Word of God is so full of contradictions.  Many have published lists of these supposed contradictions, and while a few are genuinely difficult to explain, the great majority of examples cited on most lists serve only to demonstrate that the skeptic has no more than a passing familiarity with the text he so despises.  The context—textual, narrative, historical, and theological—in almost all cases clears up the confusion and leaves us in awe of the author’s wisdom and obvious authority.  Nevertheless, as we do our best to wrap our feeble minds around the nature of the immortal, invisible, eternal, all-knowing sovereign of creation, it’s not surprising that our ability to comprehend comes up short from time to time.  Often, he tells us through his Scriptures things that are not exactly in conflict with each other, but that stand in tension with each other, setting an outer limit on the silly extremes to which we would otherwise try to take God’s commandments and observations.

An example of this can be seen in Jesus’ well-known Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus spends considerable effort illustrating that the outer appearance does not always match the inner man, beginning with the instruction,

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 6.1)

Yet, he says before the sermon is over,

“You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit.” (Matthew 7.16-18)

There is certainly no contradiction here.  The most straightforward conclusion to be drawn from Jesus’ combination of warning against putting on a show of righteousness, and his prediction that the unrighteous will reveal themselves, is simply that putting on a show doesn’t work—people see through it.  This is, of course, true; but it’s not the whole story.

Jesus gives examples—giving to the needy, praying, and fasting.  These are all good things to do.  They are the fruit.  But doesn’t that mean those who do them are healthy trees?  Similarly, Jesus’ instruction is to keep your giving a secret, pray in private, and do your best to conceal your fasting.  But to an outside observer, the person who keeps Jesus’ instructions about this may appear to be bearing no fruit at all, and what is he left to conclude?  Sure, he’s not the judge who matters, and Jesus says three times over, “your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Mt 6.4, 6, 18).  But how are we to know a tree is healthy, when the tree keeps concealing its fruit from us?

This isn’t all that challenging to figure out.  It’s not that Jesus is mistaken, nor has he changed his mind; it’s just that there’s some tension between the instruction and the prediction.  When we observe a single good work from an individual, we know it would be foolish to pass a sweeping judgment based upon one action, that this is a righteous person.  Even if we didn’t know better, Jesus tells us to beware of judging and pay careful attention to the standard we use, in the very same sermon (Mt 7.1-5).  Just as we wouldn’t pick a single apple and judge the tree based on a glance at that one specimen, we know to look at the whole picture before declaring a tree good or bad.  Even when we notice someone giving to the needy, or praying in public, or fasting out of devotion to God, if we pay attention we’ll easily see whether he’s trying to make a spectacle  of himself, or just doing a good deed without drawing attention or accolades.  If he’s putting on a show, he won’t fool most people.  They’ll generally notice the defect in the fruit, and rightly conclude that this is not a good tree.

On the other hand, if you’re “always abounding in the work of the Lord” (1Co 15.58), you’ll be noticed no matter how hard you try to hide your good works.  Some of that attention will be unwelcome and uncomfortable.  Jesus tells us—again, in the very same sermon—“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5.10).  Even the severest persecution and most damning lies will not change God’s mind about you, and his chosen people will generally not be fooled, either.

Paul covered both sides of sin and righteousness in the short quote at the top of this article.  “The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later” (1Ti 5.24).  They may hide them for a while, but try as they might, their sins most certainly will become apparent.  “So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden” (v25).  Try to hide them.  It’s an incredibly effective way to make sure you’re doing them out of devotion to God, and not a desire to exalt yourself.  But don’t be surprised when you’re found out.  An abundance of good works will not escape notice.

…if you pour yourself out for the hungry

        and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,

then shall your light rise in the darkness

        and your gloom be as the noonday. (Isaiah 58.9)

Jeremy Nettles