The following is the second lecture in a series entitled "Living Hope: The Story of the Future Life." To download a copy of the lecture, click here.

This morning we continue under the theme of Living Wisdom: Forming Our Faith with the Mighty Dead. The premise of this theme is that the tradition of the church — as lived and taught by the “mighty dead,” the saints of ages past — has much to teach us today. In our first lecture I cited C.S. Lewis, who encouraged us to read “old books” as a way “to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds.” Paying attention to history has many benefits, not the least of which is the fact that history can illumine the major blind spots of our own age and re-awaken us to significant truths about faith and life that we have discarded, sometimes unintentionally. Our goal is not to become antiquarians — interested in history merely for its own sake. Instead, we enter the drama of history seeking “Living Wisdom,” insight that is very much alive and that we ourselves would do well to live. Though as Protestants we believe that our faith and life must ultimately be founded on the teaching of Scripture, we also know that the Spirit has worked throughout history in helping the church to come to a better understanding of the Word of God.

As Theologian-in-Residence at Highland Park Presbyterian Church in Dallas, TX, my theme for special lectures this year is Living Wisdom: Forming Our Faith with the Mighty Dead. There will be four series of lectures under this theme. Our first series is "Living Hope: The Story of the Future Life." And this is the first lecture in that series. To download a copy of this lecture, click here.

Introducing the Series

I would like to begin today’s lecture with some words from G.K. Chesterton: “Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about." With those words, Chesterton touches upon a profound truth not often recognized by modern Christians: sometimes the greatest resources for facing our future are found in our past.

The Gospel lectionary text for today is Mark 5:1-20. It's the story of Jesus healing the demoniac who is possed by "Legion" -- many evil spirits. Jesus sends the evil spirits into the nearby herd of swine, who then charge into the lake and drown themselves. At this surprising display of power, the residents don’t give thanks for the healed man but are rather terrified by Jesus and ask him to leave.

There are a variety of ways to explain why the residents ask Jesus to leave. Were they just distraught over the loss of their possessions, their swine? Was this unleashing of spiritual power too much to handle, perhaps fearing what Jesus might do to or require of them? Calvin remarks that their fearful request for Jesus to leave reflects the basic quality of their present relationship with God:

The Gospel lectionary text for today is Mark 4:35-41, the story about Jesus calming the storm out on the sea, after the disciples wake him up and implore him to do something, for fear that they will drown. After calming the storm, Jesus says to them: “Why are you so afraid? Have you no faith?”

Jesus obviously takes their fear to be evidence of their lack of faith. It is easy to be struck with dread in the face of the dangers of this world, especially in our terror-hyped times. But is fear ever appropriate for someone with confident faith in God? Can a proper fear ever serve our faith rather than evidence our lack of faith? John Calvin reflects on these questions in his commentary on this passage:

“Is every kind of fear sinful and contrary to faith? First, he does not blame them simply because they fear, but because they are timid. Mark adds the word “so,” — “Why are you so timid?, and by this term indicates that their alarm goes beyond proper bounds. Besides, he contrasts faith with their fear, and thus shows that he is speaking about immoderate dread, the tendency of which is not to exercise their faith, but to banish it from their minds. It is not every kind of fear that is opposed to faith. This is evident from the consideration that, if we fear nothing, an indolent and carnal security steals upon us; and thus faith languishes, the desire to pray becomes sluggish, and the remembrance of God is at length extinguished. Besides, those who are not affected by a sense of calamities, so as to fear, are rather insensible than firm.

Thus we see that fear, which awakens faith, is not in itself faulty until it go beyond bounds….It is not every kind of fear which indicates a lack of faith, but only that dread which disturbs the peace of the conscience in such a manner that it does not rest on the promise of God.”

The future life envisioned by Holy Scripture involves a restored physical universe, a “renewal of all things” — a New Heavens and New Earth (e.g. Rev. 21). It’s true, however, that if we were to take a poll of western Christians about their views on what the future life will be like, we’d likely get a very different prevailing view: something like a disembodied existence, a “heaven” that is an immaterial existence. Critics of that prevailing western view have often laid the blame on the influence of a Platonic dualism (where immaterial “spirit” and material “flesh” are juxtaposed as higher and lower modes of existence). This criticism is mostly right.