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Kingdom Tension and Application

May 17, 2024 By Peter Krol

A firm grasp on the tension of living in the kingdom of God will take your application skills to the next level.

overlapped image of pink mountains and moon at dusk — Photo by Gustavo Ramirez on Pexels.com

Kingdom Tension

As Jesus began his ministry, the essence of his message was “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15). The messianic prophecies of Isaiah were fulfilled “today…in your hearing” at Nazareth (Luke 4:16-21). When the Jews asked Jesus when the kingdom of God would come, he clearly replied: “You see, the kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17:20-21, CSB). Without a doubt, God’s kingdom had come in the person of Jesus Christ.

And yet, Jesus would also declare that “concerning that day and hour, no one knows” (Matt 24:36). “The kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom” (Matt 25:1) and like a man going on a journey and entrusting his property to his servants (Matt 25:14-30). At the last supper, Jesus assured his disciples that he would not drink any more wine “until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God” (Mark 14:25).

And of course, the day will come, at the end of all things, when Jesus “delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power” (1 Cor 15:24).

So which is it, Jesus? Did you bring the kingdom here and now, or will you bring it on that final day when you return? And of course, his answer is “Yes, both.”

So those who have trusted in the Messiah Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords have received the full forgiveness of their sins. The age to come has already broken into the present. But we still live in the presence of sin, and we see the effects of its power all around and within us. The present, evil age has not come to an end.

We live in the tension of overlapping ages. The power of the old has been broken, but it’s remnants remain with us. And the glories of the new have broken in, but not yet in their fulness. This is the nature of life under the Lordship of Christ prior to the resurrection and final victory.

The book of Revelation resorts to bizarre word pictures, drawn from the rest of the Bible, to paint this picture for us. We are already sealed and seated in heaven, praising the God to whom belongs all salvation (Rev 7:9-14, Eph 2:4-10)—yet we wait for the day when every hunger and thirst is satisfied and when every tear is wiped dry (Rev 7:15-17). We have seen the ancient serpent defeated and thrown down. We have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of our testimony (Rev 12:7-12). Yet that dragon still makes war on those who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus (Rev 12:17).

In short, though we’ve been saved, we must still be saved. Though we have been rescued, we still require rescue. We are no longer subject to sin’s penalty, but we still wrestle with sin’s power and must consign ourselves to sin’s presence. Until the final day, when sin’s penalty, power, and presence (and death itself) are all thrown together into the lake of fire to die forever.

Help with Application

So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?

In nearly any text, you can ask “kingdom tension” questions with respect to the author’s main point:

How has Jesus taken care of this issue in his death and resurrection?
What hope do we have to overcome the power of sin and misery in our lives?
But what is it like to cohabit with the lingering presence of such sin and misery?
What hope can you draw from the promises of God and the victory of Christ?
And how will those promises and that victory be completed in the age to come?
How does this tension drive your heart toward lament and godly complaint?
In what situations is the cry of your heart simply “How long, O Lord?”
How does the tension between forgiveness and ongoing sanctification increase your dependence on the Lord Jesus?
What hope does it give you to know that Jesus sees you, knows your situation, and cares about it even more than you do?
How can we appropriate the assurance of the age to come into our lives today, to see Jesus’ promises worked out even further?
In what ways will we have to wait until the final day to see these promises fully resolved?
What will help you to live within and endure that tension when it gets painful and complex?

I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, law, grace, salvation, and hope for the future when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the tension of living in a kingdom that is both already here and not yet here.

Sometimes, robust reflection on this overlap of the ages will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: lament, oppression, injustice, sanctification, maturity, politics, social progress, anxiety, bodily malfunction, illness, personal suffering—to name just a few. Over the years, one of my sons has regularly asked me, “If Jesus died to take my sin away, why do I keep sinning?” Reminding him of the tension of living in an already and not yet kingdom doesn’t always solve his pain, but it fuels our lament and deepens our conviction. May it do the same for you and for those you lead.

Deepen your grasp of the tension of living in overlapping ages, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.

Cosmic Treason and Application

April 12, 2024 By Peter Krol

A firm grasp on the essence of sin will take your application skills to the next level.

photo of an elegant woman pointing the gun — Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Essence of Sin

The essence of sin lies in the fact that humans tried (and therefore still try) to replace God. We see this when the serpent first tempts the woman in Genesis 3:5.

God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

The temptation was to be like God. And how would they become like God? They would “know good and evil.”

That phrase, “know good and evil,” cannot mean a simple grasp of the concepts of good and evil. Adam and his wife already understood both concepts, when God told them what to do and not do (Gen 1:28-29, 2:16-17). Clearly, it was good to obey God and evil to disobey him. The first humans were not cognitively deficient.

In the Hebrew Bible, to “know good and evil” is a mark not of intellectual capacity but of maturity. With respect to the promise of Immanuel, God says the following to Isaiah:

He shall eat curds and honey when he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the boy knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land whose two kings you dread will be deserted.
Isaiah 7:15-16

The point for Isaiah (and King Ahaz) was that a child would soon be born. And by the time that child was mature enough to make wise moral decisions, the attacks on Jerusalem will have come to an end.

So what does this have to do with the temptation to sin in Genesis 3? The temptation was attractive because it came with a promise of maturity, but in the wrong way. That made it a promise of escape from submission to God’s authority. An offer to the woman and the man to become their own authorities and make their own decisions about what is (or should be) good and evil.

This is where sin got its beginning in human history, and it is where sin drops anchor in the human heart.

Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
James 1:14-15

God confirms that the “knowledge of good and evil” has to do with maturity (wrongly acquired in this case), when he says that “the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:22). The humans have seized a god-like position of deciding between good and evil instead of trusting God and waiting for him to mature them and raise them up in his way. And God—in his mercy—refuses to allow them to live forever in this state (Gen 3:22-23). He sends them away from the tree of life so that they can die, as he promised they would. But that gives him the opportunity to raise them from the dead and make their condition far more glorious than it even was to begin with.

The essence of sin, therefore, is the desire to get what you want. To make your own decisions. To throw off the yoke of righteousness God requires and fashion your own. I believe this is why Jonathan Edwards allegedly (I haven’t been able to trace the source) said that “The smallest sin is an act of cosmic treason against a holy God.” And this is why God’s wrathful judgment against human sin looks like God giving people the very death they want (“God gave them up” – Rom 2:24, 26, 28). Does someone most want a world without God in it? In the end, they will get their wish (2 Thess 1:9).

Help with Application

So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?

In nearly any text, you can ask “cosmic treason” questions with respect to the author’s main point:

What has God commanded in this text, and how to do you respond to his commands?
What is your posture toward the Lord Jesus as the supreme authority over heaven and earth?
With respect to this text’s main point, in what ways are you tempted to overthrow God’s authority and take control of your own life?
How does the world or the culture tempt you toward such cosmic treason? (In America, the terribly misguided counsel to “follow your heart” or “be true to yourself” or “you do you” ought to come to mind.)
Who gets to define what is right or wrong in this area?
By what standard will we distinguish between truth and falsehood, right and wrong, helpful and unhelpful?
In what ways have you tried to take God’s place in this area, and how can you grow in submitting to his righteous will?

I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, grace, and redemption when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the implications of sin’s treasonous nature.

Sometimes, robust reflection on our outright rebellion against God’s authority will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: postmodernism, relativism, materialism, greed, situational ethics, individualism, stewardship—to name just a few.

Deepen your grasp of the essence of sin, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.

Context Matters: With His Wounds We are Healed

February 1, 2019 By Peter Krol

Perhaps you’ve heard that Jesus will heal all your sickness and disease, if you would only have faith that he will do so. Since Jesus healed every sick person who came to him while he was on earth, surely he will do the same for sick people who come to him while he is in heaven. Jesus still bears the wounds that now heal us.

In this post, I’m not able to tackle the full ideology of faith healing, nor do I intend to discuss whether we ought to expect miraculous healings to continue taking place today. These are complex issues that warrant complex treatment. But in this post I will deal one small part: the common appeal to Isaiah 53:5 to support expectations of physical health and healing.

Context matters. When we learn to read the Bible properly—and not as a collection of unqualified personal promises to which we turn in our moments of need—we’ll find that some of our most famous mantras take us in a different direction.

Seattle Municipal Archives (1999), Creative Commons

Isaiah’s Train of Thought

I’d like to address Isaiah 53:5 from three angles. The first is the larger train of thought of Isaiah 40-55.

Isaiah 40 presents such a sharp change of subject matter and implied audience that many scholars believe the second half of the book could not have been written by Isaiah son of Amoz in the 8th century B.C. While condemnation of Judah’s sin is not absent (e.g. chapter 48), the focus lands far more heavily on proclamation of comfort (Is 40:1-2). And the audience appears to be no longer in the land of Judah (Is 7:1), but in captivity in Babylon (Is 48:20-21). The chief enemy is no longer Assyria but Babylon (Is 46:1-47:15). And the chief hero is not Hezekiah (Is 36-39), but Cyrus, King of Persia (Is 44:24-45:7), along with the representative “servant” of Israel.

Isaiah 56-66 presents yet another perspective, that of those who have returned from exile, now rebuilding the nation and city. So let’s limit our attention for now to chapters 40-55.

Isaiah 40:2 sets up two main announcements for the languishing exiles. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her:

That her warfare is ended
That her iniquity is pardoned”

These two points are then expanded as: “that she has received from Yahweh’s hand double for all her sins.” The following chapters expand on these two announcements.

First, in chapters 40-44, Isaiah shows that Yahweh, and Yahweh alone, is both willing and able to do these things. No idols can end the warfare with Babylon to return the exiles. And no idol can do a thing to pardon the people’s great iniquity toward God.

Second, Is 44:24-48:22 describes how Yahweh will go about bringing the first announcement to pass. He will anoint Cyrus for the job, he will bring the people home, and he will wipe out Babylon once and for all.

Third, Is 49:1-55:13 describes how Yahweh will go about bringing the second announcement to pass. He will raise up his unnamed servant to bear iniquity, he will put his words into the people’s mouths, and he will reconstitute them to bear his name.

As we follow Isaiah’s train of thought, we see that the suffering servant in chapter 53 is not raised up (or crushed or wounded) for the people’s physical well-being. Cyrus was the appointed savior for that sphere. The suffering servant is dealing instead with the sin problem. Though Isaiah makes use of the terminology of sickness (affliction, grief, affliction, etc.), these terms serve primarily as metaphors for the main issue: “Yahweh has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Is 53:6).

Matthew’s Summation

There’s no avoiding the fact that Jesus physically heals people during his earthly ministry. And we are right to draw implications for ministry today: that the proclamation of the kingdom ought to be accompanied by improvements to societies and their quality of life.

It’s striking, however, that Jesus didn’t heal everyone who came to him. His message about the kingdom was more important than any physical healing he could offer (Mark 1:36-39).

Perhaps this is why Matthew explicitly states the purpose of Jesus’ healing miracles (Matt 8:16-17):

That evening they brought to him many who were oppressed by demons, and he cast out the spirits with a word and healed all who were sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took our illnesses and bore our diseases.’

Jesus healed in order to fulfill what Isaiah had spoken about. In other words, Jesus healed people both to illustrate and to authenticate his mission to pardon iniquity (Matt 1:21). It is no accident that Jesus conducts one such healing simply to prove he has the authority to forgive sins (Matt 9:1-8).

Peter’s Assertion

Peter makes the connection even more explicit. He alludes to Isaiah 53:5 (“by his wounds you have been healed”) to support his point that Jesus died so “we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Pet 2:24-25). In context, this assertion should motivate servants to submit to their masters, even when their masters treat them unjustly (1 Pet 2:18-25).

Conclusion

In context, Isaiah’s poetic statement—”with his wounds we are healed”—is not an absolute promise of physical well-being, if we would only believe. It is a declaration of the forgiveness of Israel’s sin, which had led to her exile in Babylon. The New Testament then uses Isaiah’s shadow to explain the reality of Jesus’ dying for our sin to make us righteous before God, if we would only believe.

Context matters.

For more examples of why context matters, click here.

Thanks to Bob and Daniel for the idea for this post.

Context Matters: Where Two or Three are Gathered in Jesus’ Name

January 25, 2019 By Peter Krol

Perhaps you’ve heard that Jesus is specially present when two or three people gather in his name (Matt 18:20). And perhaps you’ve wondered how that jives with the fact that he is present with all of his disciples when they make disciples by going, baptizing, and teaching (Matt 28:19-20). Or how it’s any different from the fact that the Father sees and hears when you pray to him alone and in secret (Matt 6:6). Couldn’t Matthew get it straight? What is our quorum for ensuring the blessing of Jesus’ presence?

Context matters. When we learn to read the Bible properly—and not merely as a collection of one-liners and sound bites—we’ll find that some of the most famous passages take on different and deeper meanings than we’ve thought.

Life in the Kingdom

Jesus’ speech in Matt 18 addresses what the new covenant community of Christ-followers should look like. It speaks to such things as humility, compassion, initiative, conflict, restoration, and forgiveness. This speech particularly highlights how to handle the sin that will inevitably infect the community.

Offense from Sin

After telling his disciples that we must not despise any straying sinner, for God seeks to win every one of them back (Matt 18:10-14), Jesus moves into practical instruction regarding what to do when someone sins against you (Matt 18:15-20). In other words, it’s one thing to feel compassion for people whose sin hurts only themselves; it’s far more challenging to lovingly pursue those whose sin has hurt you personally.

Yet that is the very situation Jesus speaks to: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault” (Matt 18:15). When you’re directly affected by another person’s sin, to the point where you’re tempted to despise that person (Matt 18:10), your first recourse is to speak to that brother or sister privately.

If that doesn’t work, bring one or two others along for another set of conversations, to provide witnesses for the interaction (Matt 18:16).

If that still doesn’t work, then tell it to the church (presumably, begin with the church leadership). If that still doesn’t work, then treat him as a Gentile or tax collector (Matt 18:17)—that is, as someone you love and pursue, with whom you share the gospel (Matt 9:11-13).

Authority to Bind and Loose

This leads Jesus to explain the nature of church authority. What you bind on earth is bound in heaven; what you loose on earth is loose in heaven (Matt 18:18). This cryptic statement should not be too confusing, as it simply alludes back to what Jesus said to Peter two chapters earlier (Matt 16:18-20). Peter’s confession in chapter 16 highlighted a great privilege he would have to wield the keys of the kingdom of heaven. We see Peter later wielding this authority to bind and loose as leader of the fledgling Jerusalem church (e.g. Acts 5:1-11). This in no way meant he was infallible or above criticism (see Gal 2:11-14); it just meant that Jesus delegated real authority to him as a leader.

And that authority was not unique to Peter. In Matt 18:18, it describes the assessment of “the church” toward an unrepentant sinner. And the next verse restates the situation more practically as one where “two of you agree on earth about anything they ask” (Matt 18:19). Here he’s not talking about any old two people agreeing about any old topic. He’s talking about the church wielding the keys of the kingdom, binding and loosing, deciding to treat an otherwise professing believer as an unbeliever. He’s talking about the leadership of the church exercising its responsibility to discipline members of the community who continue unrepentantly in sin.

Jesus Present with Two or Three

And now we arrive at the verse in question: “For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them” (Matt 18:20). Notice the “for,” which is a connector word identifying this sentence as a reason or explanation for the previous verse.

So the “two or three” he’s talking about are not the faithful few who showed up at this week’s prayer meeting. They are the authorized leadership of the church, who have witnessed a sinner cause offense to another member of the community and fail to turn from it. Just as their decision to bind or loose (to either retain or remove membership in the community) will be recognized in heaven, so Jesus’ authoritative presence is with them to enact said decision.

Peter’s Concern

This leads Peter to be deeply concerned about how many times he’ll have to let someone “off the hook” (Matt 18:21). If all they have to do is turn away from their sin, and he can no longer give them what he thinks they deserve—how long does he have to put up with such behavior? Of course, they’re lost sheep and all, but surely there’s got to be a limit to such disrespectful behavior, right? Wrong (Matt 18:22-35).

Addendum: When to Apply Matthew 18

We should note that Matt 18:15-20 is not intended to be a catch-all process for dealing with any and all sin. It is about what to do when someone sins against you, and you are not able to overlook it or live with it. It’s not about public sin, or sin that doesn’t personally impact you, or secondhand rumors about sin in a community. And it’s not about what to do whenever someone offends you; you must be able to prove that they have sinned. We must look to other passages of Scripture for guidance in each of these other areas.

Context matters.

For more examples of why context matters, click here.

Thanks to Tommy, George, Nat, and Daniel for the idea for this post.

Context Matters: Chief of Sinners

June 1, 2018 By Peter Krol

Perhaps you’ve heard Christian leaders refer to themselves as the “chief of sinners.” Perhaps you’ve even said this about yourself. You might know the phrase comes from 1 Tim 1:15 KJV. Modern translations typically use “foremost” (1 Tim 1:15 ESV, 1 Tim 1:15 NASB) or “worst” (1 Tim 1:15 NIV, 1 Tim 1:15 CSB) instead of “chief.” I have no concern with the exact translation, but I often wonder if those using the phrase have taken heed of its context.

Context matters. If we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not as a collection of independently assembled proverbial sayings—we’ll discover that some of our most familiar passages say something slightly different from what we’ve always assumed.

The Right Track

When people self-apply the label “chief of sinners,” they are not doing gross violence to this verse. Paul introduces the statement with, “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance” (1 Tim 1:15). This suggests that the phrase was a common saying that people had spoken or heard, and it suggests that Paul was endorsing the truth of it.

Now it’s possible that the “trustworthy saying” was just the first part (“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”), and that Paul appended his own comment (“of whom I am the foremost”) to it. Or the entire statement could be the “trustworthy saying.” We’re not sure, because ancient Greek manuscripts didn’t have quotation marks to signal which part Paul was quoting, and which part was his own reflection.

But we can still confidently say that when Christians use the “chief of sinners/foremost sinner” language, they are honoring Paul’s wishes that this statement is “deserving of full acceptance.” This could be an appropriate view for children of God to take of themselves, as they become increasingly aware of the depth of their indwelling sin, and as long as it’s not merely false humility.

The Argument

But let’s also notice that Paul is making a rhetorical point.

There is a problem in Ephesus with false teachers, teaching “different doctrine” (1 Tim 1:3), speculating on mysteries in the Torah (1 Tim 1:4), and failing to understand the assertions they make so confidently about the law (1 Tim 1:7). They have missed the point of the law: love issuing from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith (1 Tim 1:5).

The law, you see, is a very good thing when you use it lawfully. It’s not for the good guys but the bad guys. It addresses whatever is contrary to sound doctrine, and it does so in perfect harmony with the gospel of the glory of the blessed God (1 Tim 1:8-11).

Case in point: Paul’s own testimony. He can think of no example more severe. He thought he was a good guy in God’s world, but in truth he was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent (1 Tim 1:12-13a). The law judged him as such, but the grace of our Lord overflowed for him in Christ Jesus (1 Tim 1:13b-14).

Therefore, the saying is trustworthy…Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I [Paul] am the foremost.

But Paul received mercy for one primary reason: so Jesus Christ could display his perfect patience in the chief of sinners. Why would he do this? To make Paul an example to those who were to believe in Jesus for eternal life (1 Tim 1:16). This King of the ages, the only God, deserves all honor and glory forever and ever (1 Tim 1:17).

The Point

Paul never says his readers should think of themselves as the foremost sinners. He clearly says that he himself is the foremost of sinners (“in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example” – 1 Tim 1:16).

The point is that, in context, Paul is saying he occupies a unique place in redemptive history. He’s not using “chief of sinners” language to model self-effacing humility. He’s using it because he is truly hard-pressed to find any worse sinner than he was. Of course it’s a terrible thing to be a tyrannical oppressor and attacker of innocent people. But it’s even more terrible to do so in God’s name, believing yourself to be doing out of obedience to him.

And if King Jesus can rescue a guy like that, applying the law to his sin, and demonstrating perfect patience through the faith and love—he can rescue anybody. Even you. Even me.

By this charge, Timothy, and Christian leaders today, may wage the good warfare (1 Tim 1:18).

Context matters.

Let Down Your Guard to Keep Up the Fight

July 27, 2015 By Ryan Higginbottom

In the classic image of a gray, moat-encircled castle, the drawbridge is a crucial defense tool. When the bridge is up, enemies are exposed and archers have the advantage.

In this position the castle is isolated and cannot receive any food, supplies, or correspondence. Though dropping the bridge makes the castle vulnerable, a fearful king who won’t let others inside is in trouble of a different kind. The king falls if the bridge doesn’t.

Your Heart is a Castle

Georges Jansoone (2006), Creative Commons License

We shield our hearts from others without thinking. On one level, this is natural—we don’t need to reveal deep secrets in every conversation.

But some people don’t let anyone across the drawbridge. We need community to apply the Bible, and at its core a community is a network of close, honest friendships. Letting down our guard is difficult, but it isn’t just a nice idea to consider—it’s essential to growing as a Christian. Without friendships, our hearts starve like the paranoid king.

Small Group Prayer

A small group is an important place to build Biblical community. Your fellow group members may not start out as your dearest friends. But as you meet regularly and discuss the most important topics in the world, you create an environment where transformational vulnerability is possible.

Even a brief period of prayer can promote honest sharing in your group. These opportunities can embolden people to disclose themselves in ways that mark true friendship.

The group leader should encourage prayer requests that cannot be delivered in another setting. You can learn about Bob’s aunt’s cat’s bunion surgery by email without missing an opportunity to care for Bob. But when Bob confesses his anger or loneliness or gluttony, you are better equipped to bear his burden and love him if you can look him in the eyes and draw him into a conversation.

Assignment #1: Find one personal item to share during your next small group prayer time. What are the areas of your life in which you see great need for repentance and growth? How can you strengthen your group with stories of God’s provision or his deliverance from an entangling sin (Heb 12:1, NASB)?

Applying the Bible

Effective Bible study involves careful observation, intense interpretation, and penetrating application. Though it is the most uncomfortable part of the process, if we skip application we’ve missed the point.

Applying the Bible is more than just saying “pray more,” “read my Bible regularly,” “trust in Jesus,” or “focus on the Lord in everything.” Amen to these exhortations, but when application is not concrete it’s like trying to visit Greenland by “going north.”

Friends within your small group can help you get specific, but you need to open the door before they can walk through. Here are two keys: practicing application on your own, and being willing to discuss application (past and future) in detail.

The vocabulary isn’t all that important, but the more familiar you are with the categories of application, the more broadly and thoroughly others will be able to address your concerns during your small group meeting. As part of this process you must anticipate the particular resistance your flesh offers to change. If you can pinpoint your tendencies, you can enlist help to combat them.

You also need to be able to talk about application with your friends. When the Holy Spirit helps us connect the main point of a passage to an area of disobedience in our lives, we need to push through the fear and feelings of exposure that often ride shotgun. If you are willing to be specific about your sin and answer questions from your group members, you will be that much closer to the obedience you seek.

Assignment #2: For your next small group meeting, read the relevant Bible passage ahead of time and prepare some personal applications to discuss with your group. Remember that vulnerability inspires vulnerability, and if one person in a group is willing to talk honestly, others will as well.

What Downton Abbey Taught Me about Bible Study

January 24, 2014 By Peter Krol

This show is dark. Last week’s episode had me crying harder than I can remember since Scar dropped Mufasa into the wildebeest stampede.

I have a friend whose wife wants him to watch it with her. He got a few episodes in and couldn’t handle any more. He enjoys watching TV for fun (even British period drama), but, as he explained to me, Downton Abbey wasn’t fun. It was hard work. The darkness was so depressing that it kept him on edge, and he couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it.

Yet the show has over a million Likes on Facebook. In the United States, Season 2 set the record for the most-watched mini-series ever to air on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic. Season 3 demolished the record, as almost 8 million Americans saw the season première. Our English friends seem a bit amused by the show’s unprecedented popularity here across the ocean, but you can’t deny it strikes a chord.

Downton shows how broken we are. Class doesn’t matter. Wealth doesn’t matter. Gender, sexual orientation, marital status, ethnicity – none of it makes a difference. We are all broken people.

Ocean liners sink. People get sick. Some die horrifically. Siblings are incredibly nasty toward each other. Innocents are condemned, and the guilty escape. Investments fall apart. Fulfilment is elusive. War ravages a generation. Destitution breeds prostitution, which breeds desperation. Reputations fall. Obnoxious pride demeans people and destroys relationships. The unlovely stay perpetually unloved. Dishonesty ruins good things. Condescension, irritation, disrespect, and grudges abound. People are broken. Situations are broken. Conventions and institutions and expectations are broken. Everything is broken.

Yet, the occasional ray of light ignites hope.

The lump in a woman’s breast turns out not to be cancerous. True love is possible. More money shows up. Technology advances. Life improves. Friends and lovers reconcile. The Dowager Countess delights us with her unique perspectives on life.

I’ll be honest: Downton doesn’t offer much hope, but the hope is still there. And that, I think, is why people keep watching.

What Downton Abbey has to say is really not much different from the Bible.

There’s a reason there’s so much that is dark in this world. There’s a reason we suffer as we do. There’s a reason people and institutions are so broken. Adam made his fateful choice so long ago in that quiet garden (Rom 5:12-14). He wanted to decide for himself what was right or wrong, true or false, valuable or worthless. You and I would have made the same choice if it had been us.

And yet there’s hope. Not the hope of women’s liberation, or true love, or producing an heir, or affording a certain lifestyle. But the hope of true life. The hope of finding the delight and fulfilment and acceptance we’ve always longed for. The hope of being united to our Creator and becoming more and more like him and living up to our full potential in him.

When you read the Bible, don’t shy away from the darkness. Realize it. Understand it. Let it resonate with your experience. Don’t paint a smile on your face and pretend everything’s just alright. If you don’t trust Christ for your life, however, you’re stuck here.

By all means, please make sure you find the hope. The real hope of Jesus Christ, in his death and resurrection. If you trust in Jesus and your Bible reading leaves you feeling guilty or discouraged or anxious for the future, you’ve undoubtedly missed something important.