In light of Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), I thought I would share this poem I wrote based on the life of Wladyslaw Szpilman as presented in his memoir The Pianist and accompanying film. It’s called “The Music in Me Lives” and speaks both to the miraculous survival of one man in the Holocaust, as well as to the themes of life, death, and detachment, and the place of art in guiding the soul through suffering—all of which are personal to me in my own journey.

Since this was a class project that I was not planning to share, my introduction addresses my classmates in the context of previous class discussions.

The poem itself begins right at the three minute mark; feel free to skip ahead (being in front of a camera is not my happy place).

If you are not familiar with this movie or book, there are major spoilers in my presentation.

 

It has been a couple weeks since I have shared from my seminary studies, because it has been so busy! But I want to share a brief insight that I think is so profound:

It came up as my classmates and I were discussing the hemorrhaging woman in Luke 8:43-48—whether there would have been an issue of defilement due to her uncleanliness. My professor shared there is halakhah that the Torah is so holy that it is beyond defilement. Thus, if something unclean touches it, the Word of God cannot become unclean, but retains its purity.

Jesus is the Word of God made flesh, so this also applies to Him. When He touches the unclean, they become clean: healed, delivered, forgiven, whole. When the unclean touch Him, they likewise cannot defile Him. The atmosphere changes for Him, not the other way around.

There is so much more to say about this story; but I’ll end here: No matter how “far gone” we are, how embarrassing our issues, how hurt, how sinful, how broken, we can come to Jesus with the faith that—because He is the unchanging, undefilable, Word of God—we can approach Him to receive healing.

Happy Birthday to me. As of a few days ago I’ve officially graduated from my 20s! New things are in the air, and I’ve been cognizant of the transition for a few weeks now. We have been celebrating my 30th birthday all week, and today culminates the festivities with a cake and singing.

In seminary this past week, we examined the inter-testamental period: 400 years of “silence” between the active ministries of the Hebrew prophets and Jesus’ coming to the earth in bodily human form. This was also the time that the Septuagint (LXX) was written (a Greek translation of Scripture). Interestingly, the LXX uses over twenty verbs to describe the activity of the Holy Spirit, even though the Spirit was “silent” during that period. Fascinating, right?!

The inter-testament Jewish atmosphere (from what we’re reading in class) was largely cessationalist (not believing in the supernatural nature of the Spirit for their day); and many believed the Spirit had left them entirely, with exception of many rabbis who held onto the hope that the Spirit would come again in the Messianic eschatological age. Liturgy, the Scriptures, and the rabbis pulled together the Jewish people as the major focuses. And interestingly, the Jews begun to evangelize throughout all the world (due to the Diaspora) with great fervor, collecting many converts. Recall in Acts 2 when the Jews and Jewish proselytes come from “every nation” (Acts 2:5). That occurred because of this period.

The Holy Spirit, while “silent” was not stagnant: He was working behind the scenes to prepare the hearts for the exciting reconciliation of heaven and earth in a big way. When Jesus entered the scene, the Kingdom of heaven was now at hand. The focus on Scripture was necessary to build the foundation for this experience; the Spirit and the Word now and always work together for God’s purposes.

Considering this, I have been very encouraged to recognize the Spirit’s nature in application to my own life. I have prayed for healing over my chronic conditions for five years now, and have largely felt silence despite the Spirit working through me in other outlets of my life. “Silent” seasons are not always comfortable. The Holy Spirit, however, is always moving. I just learned that the words for Spirit (ruach in Hebrew, and pneuma in Greek) do not just mean wind, breath, or spirit, rather: wind, breath, or spirit in motion. The Spirit is on a mission. He is acting even in the seasons when we cannot hear or sense Him in the most tangible way.

In the last month of transition, I had a moment where friends prayed over me and I felt as if I were in the middle of a hurricane. It was nothing I have felt before. The winds were going around me so fast and tangibly, yet no one else could feel them.

In the following weeks I have begun to thank the Lord with new passion, despite not sensing any external change. Then, a couple weeks ago, I experienced another surreal experience: As my husband and I were praying, one area of my stomach began to feel very hot while the rest of my body was cold from the wind coming through the open windows. We knew the heat was coming from a work of the Spirit inside of me (I’ve had problems with a few different organs), and the sensation and supernatural peace stayed for a couple hours until we finally fell asleep.

Physically, I face the same health challenges as before. But something is moving and changing as the Spirit brings a new season.

With so much to be thankful for and celebrate, it is now time for cake!

I just finished my first week of this new seminary school year, and I am tired and ready to start the weekend rest, so I am going to be brief in sharing a new revelation from my studies:

St. Luke writes his gospel to Theophilus, a Gentile believer who needs reassurance “of the things been taught” (Luke 1:1-4). This brings a remarkably unique account. I was amazed to recognize that while the text has a very Jewish essence—being deeply rooted in the Hebraic tradition and culture—it is also intentionally written with universal appeal. God has, from the beginning, desired the hearts of all nations, and Luke brings out that diversity without losing focus of the Jewish root of the Kingdom. It’s a fascinating paradigm.

This universal appeal is multifaceted, spanning gender, age, class, culture, and nationality. No one is left out. For example, John the Baptist was born in a miraculous birth coinciding with Jesus’ birth, but as a forerunner for Him. The parallels are immense, but among them is the obvious difference in class: John came from an important religious family who had the attention of the community, while Jesus was born humbly. Class and prominence are clearly not the indicators of spiritual worth. Also in the opening chapters of Luke, Simeon and Anna—an elderly man and an elderly woman—each recognized Jesus as Messiah when He visited the Temple as an infant, demonstrating that the Kingdom is also inclusive of both men and women. And the overall focus of Luke’s gospel is not on Jesus as a sacrificial offering (a natural continuation of Jewish thought), but on the movement of the Spirit, God’s ultimate plan of reconciliation for the world, and the Kingdom of God, which is a uniquely diverse, yet unified, collaboration of God’s children—both Jew and Gentile.

As one of my classmates pointed out, “same-ness is not the same as one-ness.” It’s important to encourage diversity, so that within our distinctions, the church can come together as the well-equipped, perfect, Body of Messiah.

It makes me excited to press forward with the goal to be my authentic self in all things.

There are several new elements in my life right now: a new look to my blog, new desires in my heart, a new fire in my spirit, and today is the first day of my third year of seminary!

I was a bit anxious for this school year because our university is moving from quarters to semesters—a conversion that is much needed, but which brings added confusion and temporary chaos for students and professors alike. Also, the new online structure is not quite a “semester”—it’s a rigorous seven weeks per class; one week more than what we’re used to, with the potential for a higher workload and more expectations than before. After a meeting with my advisor I am up for the challenge, but it will maximize my time management skills.

The class I’m taking right now focuses on Lukan theology (the books Luke wrote: Luke and Acts) within a Messianic perspective. I have the goal to share what I’m learning weekly, without trying to “perfect” everything.  So, there it is: a written commitment to share as I am in the learning process. Cheer me on as I stick to it; and feel free to ask lots of questions. :-)

Happy Passover/Pesach/Pascha/Easter Season! May you all have blessed holiday celebrations within your traditions!

In my theology class right now, we are talking about the resurrection of believers upon Jesus’ return. He is the “fruit fruits” of the harvest, and we likewise will be resurrected through Him—first those who are “sleeping” (a reminder that we do not experience death even in death itself), then those who are alive when He returns (1 Thess. 4:16-17, 1 Cor. 15:20, 23, Isaiah 26:16-21).

Why are believers going to be given new bodies? “Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thess. 5:23).

It is not just our spirit and soul that is made perfect and reconciled to God, but also our body. There is a partial sanctification of our bodies even now, as the Lord graces us as our healer. But the physical body, like the physical world, cycles into decay and destruction—things get old, and they begin not to work as well. In the Kingdom, the cycle is opposite: everything moves from glory to glory. The resurrection of our physical bodies is a fullness/consummation of that new cycle into our glorification with Christ.

Those who are made imperishable can no longer exist alongside the perishable (within a perishable body); thus, we need new bodies. It is like the parable of the wine and the wineskins or of mixing the old and new garment. The spiritual and the physical will be mended together upon Jesus’ coming; but in order for that to happen, everything that does not reflect the Kingdom must be done away with (like our old bodies), and made new.

“So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown a perishable body, it is raised an imperishable body; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body” (1 Cor. 15:42-44).

How will they differ from our current bodies?

I have already mentioned that while our current bodies are prone to aging, illness, and decay, our new bodies will instead follow the Kingdom principle of glory to glory: “But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Cor. 3:18). This begins in part now, but in fullness only upon the day of the Lord. Notice Philippians 3:21 says Jesus will “transform our lowly body that it may be conformed to His glorious body.” He is not going to “replace” our body so much as completely transform it. We will still be ourselves, but in the vision God had of us at the Creation of the world. We will be imperishable, glorified, powerful, healthy, and perfect in Him!

We can also glean insights about our resurrected bodies from observing Jesus’ resurrected form. Jesus’ resurrected body was a combination of the physical and the spiritual in perfect unity. He was not a spirit, but came in corporeal form. People could see Him, and touch Him (Mat. 28:9, Luke 24:39, John 20:27-28). He was able to eat food (John 21:12-15). But He was also able to transport from one place to another and/or walk through walls—in other words, He had no physical hindrances (Luke 24:31, John 20:19). We can likewise expect to experience the completeness of the physical and spiritual realms at-one-with-each-other (atoned) in our resurrected state.

I most look forward to the deepness of intimacy with God and each other that is so beyond what we know and crave in this world that the marriage relationship will not be necessary (Mat. 22:23-30). I also imagine exciting new possibilities like flying/levitation, and other adventures beyond our wildest thoughts and dreams.

It will be glorious. Praise the Lord for dying for us, so that we can follow Him into death and resurrected life!

I am currently taking three seminary courses: Biblical Archaeology, Christian Theology II (Christology (the study of Christ), Soteriology (Salvation), and Pnuematology (Holy Spirit)), and Pastoral Counseling. It has been a lot of work, and while quite rewarding, I have also been pretty tired. We cover so much territory so quickly that I have wondered what to share that wouldn’t involve creating a context first, and I’ve decided to share about the incarnation.

The incarnation refers to Jesus becoming human. John 1 says that the Word who existed from the beginning, who both was God, and was with God, became flesh. So Jesus who is fully God, the living Word, became en-fleshed (incarnated) into a human body, thus becoming fully human. It is a great paradox that Jesus is wholly God and wholly man, but this is what happened. Jesus is the Son of God, and Jesus is the Son of Man. Only as wholly God and wholly man could He bring reconciliation and mediation between these worlds that should never have had such a chasm between them. There is so much to say regarding these two natures of Jesus that exist in His one person, but I will highlight just a few:

Most striking to me is that as the Son of Man Jesus represents THE man—He represents what all humanity should look like when filled with the life of God (the Spirit of God). We think of ourselves as humanity, and come up with sometimes negative conclusions about our human state. But as Jesus demonstrates, it is not being human that is the problem, but the illness (sinfulness) that has crept into every aspect of humanity and transformed our “normal”. Jesus comes with freedom, and lives as God intended for all humanity. Comparatively, we cannot possibly match Him, yet God created us (and is recreating us) to live like Christ. This is truly incredible.

Also, as the Son of Man, Jesus is able to fully relate to us, and this is another aspect that is so amazing yet so hard to fully grasp. He knows us as God, but He also KNOWS us as a fellow man. I have frequently heard it mentioned that Jesus understands our sin and pain, having born these on the cross, but there is so much more than that. He also simply understands what it feels like to be human and to have limits—the joys of humanity, the temptations, the sorrows—He knows and has experienced all of it. It is incomprehensible.

Jesus is no less amazing as the Son of God. Jesus is uniquely the Son of God—we are adopted sons and daughters of Christ (able to receive the inheritance and lifestyle that comes along with that sonship), but He alone is THE Son of God. He alone was born of God. We (Christians) were re-born of God (and those who have not experienced this are invited to receive His salvation as He died for the sins of the whole world)—but we are only adopted siblings of Jesus, since we are birthed by humanity. This differentiation brings a new level of exaltation to Christ, and it also has ramifications for us in understanding God’s love. How awesome is it that we would be considered a fellow inheritor of the Kingdom, as if we were born of God ourselves!?!

The last I will mention is how awesome it is that Jesus, the Son of God, has become our salvation. His name is Yeshua (salvation); and indeed, He is the living embodiment of salvation in every way. If He were only the Son of Man, as Jews expect of HaMashiach (the Messiah), then He could have conquered and brought healing to the physical realm only. Instead He is the thread that can mend the gap between the heavens and the earth. He brings full restoration both spiritually and physically—it is a “now” and “not yet” promise, and I am so excited for the completion of this reconciliation.

In Part 1 I discuss Matitiahu Tsevat’s argument that, in the Book of Job, God and retribution cannot be simultaneous focal points; and in Part 2 that the retribution principle does not always work on our timeline, especially if we hinder God’s purposes. Is Job, then, a book teaching that our experiences are not a consequence of our deeds, or that we cannot expect God to act on our behalf? Absolutely not! It is a book about God’s amazing grace to remain with us amidst our struggles even when we cannot see Him. It is a book reminding us that the retribution principle is in effect—that justice is coming—but that God’s timing is not our timing, and justice belongs to Him alone.

We do not give up the theology of Torah, rather Torah is fulfilled—a new dimension is revealed. Without this bridge between Torah and the New Testament, the end time labor pains do not make sense. We must remember that “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward , not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). We cannot expect immediate results; we have to trust God: “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Mat 6:33). And we have to recognize that we have only a partial perspective: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known” (1 Cor 13:12).

When we recognize these things, we can comfort those who mourn, using our love for them to re-open their broken hearts to receive the love and shalom of the Spirit. We can remind them that God is near, and that He is faithful in working everything out for our good.

Job is transformed within his story because God entered his place of suffering. He manifested Himself to Job in a personal way, which broke Job’s mechanical mindset of retribution. He reminded Job of His participation in creation and the earth from the very foundations of time. And He reminded Job that His perspective is so far beyond human comprehension, yet He still chooses to manifest Himself among us. In other words, Job remembers that he has every reason to trust God because of the strong relationship they have had in the past. Job can stop worrying about what will happen next. He no longer has to struggle to survive each day, or to defend himself in the cycle of repetitive introspection and defense. He can rest in God knowing in full confidence that God has this under control—regardless of the outcome or length of the trial.

This realization creates a change in Job, which is reflected in his response: “I know You can do everything; nothing You do can be foiled or frustrated” (Job 42:2 The Voice). He trusts God because he has experienced God personally: “Before I knew only what I had heard of You, but now I have seen You. Therefore I realize the truth” (Job 42:5-6 The Voice).

Job loved God fully when He was a transcendent sovereign God. Now he has encountered God. His theology had been solid, but one dimensional. Now he has experienced God as a personal and living being, and so his theology has likewise matured to a multidimensional understanding. Through Job’s suffering, he was able to meet God in this way, presumably for the first time at this level of intimacy. Perhaps this is why God chose Job: because He wanted to personally interact with Him so thoroughly? This is not to say that suffering is ever God’s purpose, but that in everything we can rejoice in God’s greater purposes, and the hope of that ultimate reconciliation with Him, which results in the restoration of all things. Even in Job we see that the Spirit of God is with him within his suffering (e.g. Job 27:3), and that God is compassionate and anxious for Job’s complete healing.

God is with us too, regardless of what we are going through or why we are going through it. Our job is to focus first on God, and it is in Him that we find peace (not in the reconciliation of our circumstances alone). Remember the formula I suggested in Part 2: Job <---> God ---> Retribution? We cannot focus on both God and Retribution simultaneously; but if we truly give our burdens to God, we know that because of His great love for us He will carry out retribution at the first opportune moment. God’s purpose is the restoration and reconciliation of all things—He created the heavens and earth to be good, and wants that goodness restored. We have that to look forward to—both now, and in the coming days.

In Part 1 I discuss the retribution principle, along with Matitiahu Tsevat’s theory that in any given situation only two of the following elements: Job, God, and Retribution, can exist together at any single moment.

If the retribution principle is eliminated there is new freedom for a personal relationship between God and man.

But does this mean the retribution principle must be eliminated to understand the Book of Job? Only for Job—that is, for the suffering person. Job needed it removed from his primary focus so that God could move into that place. He needed to trust God’s methods without understanding them, and until he lets go near the end of the book he had been unintentionally fighting against the process in defending himself and God against his enemies (i.e. his “friends,” the spiritual battle, and even against a part of himself).

God, however, is not limited to this same time frame or struggle. From a heavenly perspective it is certainly possible for Job and Retribution to exist simultaneously. This, after all, is the nature of God: He both predestines, and changes His mind; He is transcendent above us, and immanent among us. God can interact with the sufferer, and be moved by compassion within the given moment, but He can also foresee the future, and develop plans accordingly.

God knew, from the beginning, that He would bless Job abundantly. Job considered this thought as well. But whereas Job’s focus was distracted by what should be and what is, God remained unflustered. He could see Job’s pain, recognize the necessary process for Job to fully surrender within his trial, and foresee the blessed outcome. The reader, too, should note God’s eternal mindset and patience. Neither the reader nor God needs to eliminate the retribution principle—Tsevat essentially advocates this, but I don’t think it is the best way to understand what God was doing. Rather, God put Himself in front of the retribution principle, so that Job could relax in the midst of his pain, trust God, and refresh himself in the refuge of the Lord.

The story begins with an equilateral triangular diagram as Tsevat claims, but by the end of the story it looks like this:

Job <--------> God --------> Retribution

God is no longer transcendent from the situation, but places Himself at Job’s level, so that Retribution is no longer within Job’s view. God begins above the situation (the top of the triangle), then comes down into it. God can look both toward Job (us) and Retribution, which may take place now, or perhaps not until the “Day of the Lord” when our warrior King will punish the wicked, and reward the overcomers. Thus, the retribution principle is not removed, but realized in Kingdom perspective as Job comes into contact with the living God of eternity.

More to come in Part 3.

I recently finished a seminary elective about God and Healing, and thought I would progressively share some of the richest moments of my studies. I’m going to start with some thoughts on the Book of Job, because this truly transformed my perspective.

Jewish scholar, Matitiahu Tsevat (now deceased) wrote a brilliance article, “The Meaning of Job,” in which he used a triangular paradigm to describe the relationship between people, God, and the retribution principle. (The retribution principle is the idea that good things happen to good people, and bad things to bad; God blesses the righteous, and punishes the wicked.)

Tsevat’s diagram is an equilateral triangle in which Job, God, and Retribution each take one point. The concept behind this is that we cannot look in two directions at once—we can look up at God, or across at our situation (or even backward, or in some other direction)—but we cannot face both directions simultaneously. Job’s friends understood God and Retribution to be true, therefore they believe Job must not be righteous as he says. Job perceives himself as righteous, so struggles between his relationship with God and expectation of retribution (nearly, but not quite, losing God in the process).

From Job’s perspective, Tsevat’s statement is true. Job’s attachment and forethought regarding the retribution principle (assumption of justice based on his relationship with God, including his own right-standing and knowledge of God’s mercy and graciousness) prevented him from resting in God within his sickness and dis-ease. From the perspective of the suffering person it is difficult to hold onto both God and Retribution, because they become contrary. Jesus himself speaks of this when he says:

You know that Hebrew Scripture sets this standard of justice and punishment: take an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say this, don’t fight against the one who is working evil against you. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, you are to turn and offer him your left cheek. If someone connives to get your shirt, give him your jacket as well. If someone forces you to walk with him for a mile, walk with him for two instead. If someone asks you for something, give it to him. If someone wants to borrow something from you, do not turn away. (Mat. 5:38-42 The Voice)

If we have retribution in mind, we naturally begin to put our hope in that--in justice, health, restoration--and it becomes difficult to "serve two masters" so to speak (Mat. 6:24). Our relationship with God lessons until our faith in Him is omitted, even if He was the intended source of the retribution. In this way the human yearning and expectation for retribution produces a mechanical faith, whereas resting in God is an organic, personal one.

God’s eternal perspective goes beyond this while also bringing cohesiveness to the retribution principle. This will be discussed further in Part 2.