Author Posts
Original posts by Zondervan authors.




Original posts by Zondervan authors.
by Gary T. Meadors, Th.D.
From Sunday School to Harvard Law, from children coloring pictures of the empty tomb to a professor applying the "rules of evidence" to the gospels, the biblical claim for the bodily resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth has captured our attention. A significant body of academic literature exists evaluating the texts and issues of the biblical claim.
But at the end of the day, no more than we can prove to someone that God exists can we prove that Jesus arose. As Christians we believe the biblical witness and affirm these two biblical claims as basic personal beliefs that are required for Christian faith. At the tomb of Lazarus, Jesus said to Martha, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” (John 11:40) Believing is a core requirement to see the meaning of Jesus’ resurrection for a lost and dying world.
Empty Future or Empty Tomb?
During the forty-day period from Jesus’ death and resurrection to his ascension, there were only eleven post-resurrection appearances of Jesus. Download Chart of Post-Resurrection Appearances (.pdf)
The narrative of John 20:1-21:25 brings together several of these post-resurrection appearances and demonstrates to us that Jesus’ empty tomb via resurrection was the answer to a group of confused and discouraged believers who thought they faced an empty future.
The resurrection was an answer to the empty tomb that Mary Magdalene discovered that early Sunday morning (20:1-10). God chose a woman whose empty life became full of joy and meaning during Jesus’ earthly ministry to be the first witness on that resurrection day. She remained lost in the event until a private moment with Jesus gave her hope for the future (20:11-18). The resurrection was an answer to a locked room full of fear-filled apostles on the evening of that first day (20:19-23). Jesus’ appearance illustrates the changed nature of the resurrection body when he suddenly appeared in their midst. How wonderful it is that his first word was “Shalom," “Peace be with you.” In spite of their fear and seeming unbelief, Jesus briefly commissions them to a new future they could never have imagined. Instead of living empty lives, they are now the proxies for Jesus’ message in the new era.
Believing Isn't Seeing
So what about “doubting Thomas?” To his credit, he was a good Jew. Nothing short of empirical evidence would convince him of something as bizarre as a dead body coming back to life. But alas, on that eighth day, when Jesus returned to that locked room, the resurrection proved to be the answer for Thomas’s empty faith. Thomas did not hesitate to affirm his belief in the resurrected Christ (20:24-29). At that moment, Jesus affirms that “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Again, believing is at the core of God’s requirement.
Is Your Net Full?
After the flurry of that initial week, we only have sparse and sporadic appearances of Jesus. What better thing to do when you are in stress and wondering about life than to go fishing! (21:1-14) For professional fisherman to experience the failure of empty nets must have added insult to injury. You guessed it: the resurrection of Christ is an answer to all of our self-motivated empty efforts. Just a word from the risen Christ and the nets are full!
A Rock Reappointed
Those must have been some awkward moments as they sat at the seaside eating what Jesus has already prepared, but not nearly as awkward as Jesus' conversation with Peter (21:15-23). The point of the repetitive conversation is not about two words for love, but it is about Jesus publicly re-appointing Peter for leadership. Peter was surely confused. Peter thought that all his failures were forgiven after his private post-resurrection audience with Jesus; why would Jesus now press these issues? I think after Pentecost Peter reflected back on this event and saw the wisdom of Jesus’ confirmation of him as the appointed leader. That public affirmation by Jesus settled the question as to whether Peter was still the man and paved the way for a changed man as leader in the new era.
The Greatest Proof of Jesus' Resurrection is Changed Lives
So during this Easter season, how is the resurrected Christ the answer to our emptiness? How are our lives changed as a result of our encounter with Christ? Each of us will have to answer that question in some quiet moments of honest reflection.
Gary T. Meadors recently edited Four Views on Moving Beyond the Bible to Theology which includes contributions from Walter C. Kaiser, Kevin J. Vanhoozer, and others. He is author of Decision Making God's Way (also available in a Spanish edition) and a forthcoming volume in Zondervan's Biblical Theology for Life series. Learn more about his ministry experience at www.gmeadors.com.
Thoughts on Embracing the Cross

by Michael E. Wittmer, Ph.D.
If desperate situations call for extreme measures, then extreme measures are a sign that we are in a desperate situation. When a police car flashes its lights behind me, my wife turns to me and says in her disapproving voice, “What did you do?” If my car is surrounded by police cars and a television helicopter is hovering overhead, my wife’s tone will become more accusatory, “What did you do?” If a fighter jet joins the chase, dropping bombs in the direction of our car, my wife might scream like the leading lady in a Schwarzenegger movie, “What did you do?!”
Consider what God did to save us. He didn’t hand us a brochure or ask us to attend a seminar, as if our problem was merely ignorance. He didn’t hold an intervention or send us to boot camp, as if our problem was merely stubbornness. He answered our need with the cross, which can only mean that we have really messed up. If the cross is necessary to save us, then What did we do?
The cross is a dagger through the happy talk of “you’re okay, I’m okay” and through the belief that if we just try harder we can get past our issues and change the world. The center of history is a weapon of torture—imagine holding hands around a guillotine or electric chair and you’ll get the idea. The cross informs us that things have gone horribly wrong, and they won’t be right unless somebody dies.
That somebody is Jesus. It’s fashionable to deny that Jesus died to pay the debt which we owed to God (the penal substitution view of the atonement). I agree that penal substitution doesn’t explain everything that happened on the cross (Jesus also defeated Satan and left us an example), but it does express the most important thing. Take away penal substitution, and you can’t explain what happened there.
Consider William Channing, a Unitarian who said that his liberal friends “have no desire to conceal the fact that a difference of opinion exists among us in regard to an interesting part of Christ’s mediation,—I mean, in regard to the precise influence of his death on our forgiveness” (The Works of William E. Channing, 378).
Or Greg Boyd, whose Christus Victor view contributes a necessary aspect of the atonement. Nevertheless, without penal substitution, Boyd is forced to concede that “Obviously, this account [Christus Victor] leaves unanswered a number of questions we might like answered. E.g., precisely how did Calvary and the resurrection defeat the powers? …at the end of the day we must humbly acknowledge that our understanding is severely limited” (The Nature of the Atonement, 37).
Perhaps the reluctance to embrace penal substitution—despite its explanatory power—lies in part in an overly optimistic view of ourselves. We don’t think we’re really that bad, surely not bad enough to deserve God’s wrath, and so we are unable to say precisely why Jesus died.
Jesus died instead of us but not without us. We don’t get away scot free, but are called to take up our cross and be crucified with Christ (Matt. 16:24; Gal. 2:20; Rom. 6:1-14). Karl Barth explains: “That Jesus Christ died for us does not mean, therefore, that we do not have to die, but that we have died in and with him, that as the people we were we have been done away and destroyed, that we are no longer there and have no more future” (Church Dogmatics IV/2, 295).
Salvation is free but it’s not cheap. It cost Jesus his life, and if you accept his gift, it will cost yours.
About the Author:
Mike Wittmer's latest book Don't Stop Believing: Why Living Like Jesus Is Not Enough is an urgent call for both right practice and right belief. Wittmer's first book, Heaven Is a Place on Earth: Why Everything You Do Matters to God, gently but firmly strips away common misconceptions about the value of this world and the meaning of the Christian life. As of this writing, at mikewittmer.wordpress.com he is blogging through the questions in Brian McLaren's latest book.
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What's the Greatest Proof of the Resurrection?
by Gary T. Meadors
Where do you find God? My friend Arloa, who ministers to and lives among the poor on Chicago’s west side, says she meets God in the presence of the poor. She notes that Psalm 34 says that God is close to the broke hearted, so if you want to find God, you go to where the broken hearted are. And she finds that many of the homeless, addicted, abused people who receive her care are brokenhearted—and she’s experienced the presence of God in their midst.
Arloa—founder and executive director of Breakthrough Urban Ministries—is an extraordinary person, in my estimation. She makes me examine my calling with fear and trembling. (You can read an article I wrote about her a few years ago here).
God has called her to live in the city, to minister to the poor. At this point, he’s not calling me to do the same. But he is calling me to love my neighbor, to make a difference, to not turn an indifferent ear to the cries of the poor and broken hearted.
We all want to grow spiritually, to get close to God. After all, what is the point of spiritual growth? Where does our “walk with God” take us? What does God want? Did he just want us to love him, like children? You could make a case for that, I suppose; but I have always thought that there has got to be more to faith than just obeying the rules.
Long ago, other people asked that same question. What matters? What should our lives be about if we are following God? God answered through the prophet Micah: “He has shown all you people what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8).
When I first heard this verse, I was in my early 20s, coming back into the church after a few years of staying away, wrapped up in myself and my doubts. Even with all the memorizing and studying of my childhood, I didn’t remember hearing Micah’s words. Its simplicity stirred me. God, through the words of a minor prophet, invited me away from legalism and guilt into a simple compassion.
We don’t act justly to earn God’s favor. We can’t buy his love with backpacks or other donations. But we act justly when we are walk humbly with God. We realize we’ve been given much, and it makes us want to share that love with others.
The brokenhearted are not just living in the city—they are all around you. Maybe you know someone who is dealing with serious illness, unemployment, financial stress. They need you to draw near, to act justly, to love mercy, to walk with them. That is the heart of simple compassion.
*****
Keri Wyatt Kent is the author of several books including Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity and her most recent release Simple Compassion. She is a sought-after retreat leader and speaker. She and her husband, Scot, live with their son and daughter in Illinois. Learn more about Keri's ministry at www.keriwyattkent.com.
Like many people who were brought up in the evangelical tradition, I learned lots of Bible stories growing up. I heard the stories of Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, illustrated via flannel graph, repeatedly. And then I heard the stories of Jesus—the miracles, the parables.
But the Old and New Testaments seemed disconnected. I learned very little about the connection between the two—except to learn that hundreds of Old Testament prophesies “proved” that Jesus was the Messiah. I didn’t know what those specific prophesies were.
But in recent years I’ve come to appreciate the Jewish roots of the Christian faith. I learned a lot about this while doing research for my book Rest. Understanding the Jewish culture of Jesus’ day provides a context for the gospels that enriches their meaning.
Ann Spangler and Lois Tverberg state that their purpose in writing Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus is to help the reader “tune into what Jesus was saying by developing the ears of a first-century Jew.”
So many Christians seem to forget about Jesus’ Jewish heritage (maybe because he looked Norwegian in some of those flannel graphs). They forget he was a rabbi, or they may make the mistake of thinking that he was the only rabbi around in his day.
This book points out that many Jewish rabbi’s lived as Jesus did, traveling and teaching. Some even told similar stories to those Jesus told. They would allude to ancient texts, just as Jesus did. They had talmidim, or disciples, who lived with them and followed them closely, just as Jesus did.
Spangler and Tverberg argue that we are Jesus’ tamidim, and we should understand the cultural and historic context of his teachings. They note,“Why should we spend time talking about ancient discipling methods? Because we, too, are followers of a rabbi. Like Jesus’ first talmidim, we are to become his faithful disciples. And like them we are called by our Master to ‘go and make disciples of all nations’ (Matthew 28:19).”
They point out that making disciples goes far beyond getting people to agree with intellectual ideas, but rather, living out Jesus’ teachings. Their insights on the Jewish feasts and traditions are also very helpful.
Each chapter ends with discussion questions that would make this an ideal resource for group study.
*****
Keri Wyatt Kent is the author of several books including Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity and her most recent release Simple Compassion. She is a sought-after retreat leader and speaker. She and her husband, Scot, live with their son and daughter in Illinois. Learn more about Keri's ministry at www.keriwyattkent.com.
An essay by Leslie Parrott, author of The First Drop of Rain and other books.
Here in Seattle we think a lot about rain. Actually I don’t need to think much about rain—I never carry an umbrella and rarely pull on a coat—but rain is an ever-present part of the landscape, my reality. It’s a steady companion, a gentle mist that follows me, day by damp day.
Rain, with its dark skies, gray days, and dreariness, is liquid disappointment. Rain is a symbol of ruin, a catalyst for corrosion, a creator of rust. We steel ourselves, stockpiling resources for a rainy day. Discouragement dampens our spirit, and no one likes to hang around a wet blanket. Rain is a pain, a bother. Our children sing, “Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.”
Yet this is not the whole story. In the forty-fifth year of my rain-drenched life, I have come to see rain as compelling proof of God’s gracious, giving nature.
An absence of rain turns a place into a desert, a wasteland. If you’ve ever been parched and felt faint and studied the horizon for the smallest sign of hope, then you know the feeling. You know the feeling of hope at a softly darkening sky, the sharp-sweet scent of wet air, and the transparent but tangible first drop of rain.
That first drop of rain begins a transformation from hunger to fruitfulness. Rain streams down from clouds like banners across the landscape of your life.
The rain in Seattle is soft today, something between a drizzle and a mist. It’s not showoff rain like the magnificent storms from my childhood in Kansas. It’s a continuous slick soundtrack to my life. Most days it’s so familiar that it fades into the background. It’s not until I find a still, introspective center that I am captivated by the rain. My eyes follow drops outside the leaded window, drops that sparkle and shine as they form, fall, slide, and gather in shifting, mirrored pools. Each drop holds eternity—from cloud to ground and back, world without end.
A professor once told me that nothing can belong to us, even our own experience, unless we understand it. I watch my life with my eyes. I touch it with my fingers. My mind considers and my heart longs. Across the landscape of my interior, truth coalesces and I begin to understand. As I write my stories, I begin to understand.
Each drop of rain is ancient and new. “If there is magic on this planet,” says Loren Eisley, “it is contained in water” (The Immense Journey, 1957). Rain is the mystery of God’s presence and God’s absence across the landscape of my life.
“I’m almost as big as Josh!” reports Nicholas, an observation that elicits gales of laughter from the gathered grown-ups. That’s because my son Nicholas is three, and while he’s a getting taller by the day, he’s not quite as large as our good friend Josh, a strapping plumber who stands well over six feet and looks like Mr. Clean.
Since our second son, Sam, was born, Nicholas has been obsessed with measuring his own growth. The fact that he dwarfs his baby brother has given him a new appreciation for how huge his own three-foot frame really is.
Such knowledge gives him unbridled confidence. Dragging a chair across the living room means that he’s “really strong” and reaching the phone on the kitchen counter means that he’s “really tall.”
But no matter how outlandish Nicholas’s self-assessments are, he has a knack for living up to them. When he hollers that he can carry a gallon of milk from the car to the fridge, I catch myself heading over help—only to discover that he’s already made it to the kitchen.
Nicholas often assumes he can do something—and his subsequent efforts prove he can.
What’s true for Nicholas is true for me. When I feel weighed down by doubts and fears, perhaps what I need is a dose of three-year-old confidence. If I see my neighbor volunteering at the local school, I tend to focus on how small I am—I can barely summon the energy to play with my kids, let alone help out a bunch of other kids.
But suppose I channel my inner three-year-old and exclaim, “I’m as big as my neighbor!” That may not be true—not yet—but the beauty is that it could be. If I assume I can be as loving and as full of grace, I start to act like that’s true. I start to prove it.
Our children constantly stretch for things that were out of reach the day before. So often we give up on wanting to grow. Instead, let’s dream big. Let’s make some audacious claims—I’m almost as big as Josh!—and start to act like they’re true.
***
David Jacobsen is the author of Rookie Dad: Thoughts on First-Time Fatherhood. He lives with his wife, Christine, and two young sons in Bend, Oregon. You can contact him at rookiedad@gmail.com.
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Editor's Note: Today's essay by Margaret Feinberg explores the challenges of producing error-free books and articles. Margaret is the author of The Sacred Echo and The Organic God. Learn more about Margaret on her blog and her website. Enjoy.
Every so often I will hear from a reader (of one of my books or someone else's) who is completely aghast that they discovered a typo. They can't believe a writer, an editor, a copyeditor, or a publishing house would ever make such a horrific, unbelievable mistake.
Yet after writing and managing more than 40 projects including books, Bible studies, and DVD projects, and 1000 articles, I am no longer surprised when I discover a typo—whether it's in a church bulletin, blog, book, or even Bible (Yes, there are typos in my Bible).
The best way I can describe writing is taking 50,000 pennies (a book is on average about 50,000 words) to a huge field and trying to lay them all on the ground face up. Now you hope wind or rain doesn't flip any over on accident. But alas, sometimes things happen. Now hopefully the people walking behind you inspecting your work catch any errors. But never forget these people are usually overworked, underpaid, and are very, very tired. They walk a lot of fields. They look at millions of pennies each year.
Sometimes the accidental penny flip is your fault—you put the penny tails up and no one caught it. Sometimes the accidental penny flip is because of poor communication. The person coming behind you thought they were all supposed to be tails up and only after flipping through a few thousand discovered you meant for them be heads up. And sometimes pennies get flipped from mysterious forces of nature—bugs in computer programs or at the printing press.
Now that said, the goal is always to have perfect pennies in the field. We aim for it. We work for it. Some of us, ahem, are neurotic about it (those are my favorite people).
But 50,000 pennies is a lot of pennies.
So the next time you find a typo or a penny out of place, just graciously let the author or publisher know. And on the next printing it will be fixed. If there is another printing, but that's a whole other post.
Editor's Note: Look for devotions from Ann Spangler's books every week for the next few weeks. Todays devotion is from Praying the Names of Jesus.
No man can redeem the life of another or give to God a ransom for him—the ransom for a life is costly, no payment is ever enough—that he should live on forever and not see decay (Psalm 49:7-9).
Without a Redeemer willing and able to pay the high price necessary to liberate us from the power of sin, the story of our lives in this world would be nothing but a story of hopelessness. But because of Christ’s redemptive love, we look forward with hope to a day when the world itself will be completely liberated from the power of sin and death. Until then we can express our faith in Christ by echoing the words of Scripture: "I know that my Redeemer lives and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And … in my flesh I will see God" (Job 19:25-26).
Editor's Note: Look for devotions from Ann Spangler's books every week for the next few weeks. Todays devotion is from Praying the Names of God.
Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place The LORD Will Provide. And to this day it is said, “On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided” (Genesis 22:13-14).
It is hard to read the story without imagining how Abraham must have felt. Was his hand shaking as he held the knife? Was his mind reeling under the burden of the terrible command he was about to obey? It is not hard to imagine his agony.
But have you ever considered it from God’s point of view? Watching the man and his son, did God feel something tearing at his heart, knowing that what he asked but did not require of Abraham—the sacrifice of his only son—he would one day require of himself?
Editor's Note: Look for devotions from Ann Spangler's books every week for the next few weeks. Todays devotion is from Praying the Names of Jesus.
“Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed” (1 Peter 4:12–13).
What kind of suffering have you faced and how have you faced it? If you are like me you may have sometimes responded to difficulty with complaining, evasions, or near despair. But Christ calls each of us to face it with courage, trust, and hope, confident that as we share in his sufferings, we will one day share in his glory.