At the Mockingbird Conference a couple of weeks ago, Dr. Mark Mattes made the statement that ministry involves speaking “the comforting word to the afflicted and the afflicting word to the comforted.” Initially, I was a bit worried by this, especially the part about delivering an “afflicting word” to people. Chalk it up to my people-pleasing tendencies, but I do not like giving bad news. In light of Dr Mattes’ comment, I found myself trying to determine exactly what the two words were and who needed to hear which and when. I was confused.
After thinking about my own experience with hearing the Gospel, Dr. Mattes’ statement began to make more sense to me. I was threatened when I first heard the Gospel. The message that I could not do anything to help myself was an attack. I thought God wanted and expected me to do my part, and I thought I was doing pretty well. It was a two-way street in my mind. The Gospel, however, smashed through these preconceived ideas. It exposed the fact that I thought pretty highly of myself and that as a result, I had a lower view of what Jesus did for me. In other words, it afflicted me.
Then something changed. The message of God’s one-way love began to sound like good news. My resistance had been slowly broken down and, more accurately, put to death. Instead of feeling attacked by the idea that it was all up to God and I was a passive recipient, I was relieved. It was really comforting.
Dr. Mattes wasn’t making a statement about the word itself, as much as he was making a statement about the people hearing the word. The word itself never changes (Heb 13:8); we just hear it differently, depending on where we are in life. When we are weighed down by problems and affliction(s), it comforts. But when we are comfortable or self-satisfied, it afflicts. And it does this so that we might be truly comforted – by the promise that God has already accomplished everything through Jesus, and all that remains for us is true hope and real freedom.
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6 responses to “The Same Word”
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Wait a minute Sean. This sounds a bit Barthian in the sense that even the Law can be Gospel. Law and Gospel are two distinct words: one that kills and one that brings life.
I agree that the Law is distinct from the Gospel, and I do not think the Law can be Gospel at all.
I have, however, watched people respond the the Gospel in a very negative way because it removes their position of power. It tells them that God has done everything for them in their helpless estate…that he has died for them. Frankly, I have witnessed people get very mad at that idea. It served to afflict them. Does that make it law? I don’t think so.
Help me out here. Does that make sense?
Sean. .
You said that “People respond to the Gospel in a very negative way because it removes them from their position of power”
That is spot on.
For many people in the Church, this message effectively becomes a judgment on years, and perhaps decades, of loving ourselves by trying to love God and others. The Gospel exposes, as Karl Holl writes, “[that] Even in Christianity. . . the temptation that besets all religion, the desire somehow to coerce the sublime power that it venerates.”
The further question is, can the Gospel ever be the Law? No. However, I think that a negative reaction to the proclamation of the Gospel is a result of the message of Judgment that is, necessarily, implicitly stated in the proclamation.
When you focus on the Atonement, and particularly imputation, the discomfort people have is not, in my opinion, the message that God has done everything for them, because deep down people believe that if there is a God, then he/she/it would certainly do whatever it/she/he could to help them; rather, its that the Cross exposes the fact that there was only one true victim who has ever lived–everyone else has to be completely justified outside of anything they “bring to the table.” The question hanging over the Cross is why? And the answer is: because of you, and me. Not because of some faulty political system, or accident of nature, or a few misguided choices. The Gospel is the answer to the question of the Cross, and that’s a question that nobody wants to face.
What do you think?
This is great! Discussion!
I’m going to try to make a distinction between the words offense and affliction in my experience.
The reason I’ve often been so offended (as opposed to afflicted) by the gospel is because I think I’m using the law as a guide and I’m earning some kind of merit by my accomplishment of the law (sanctification, some call it). If the message of the gospel is true, then it is not true that I am earning merit by my accomplishment of the law. That is offensive and feels like a wasted life sometimes. But that offense doesn’t change me.
My affliction occurs after the offense of the gospel and usually hits me when I’m not looking, not living up to the standard I’ve so proudly worn on my sleeve (which was in fact the true cause of the offense in the first place). In those moments I’m afflicted by the letter of the law. It is then that the offense of the gospel becomes my only comfort. It is after this affliction that the proclamation of the gospel turns me in to the thing I thought I was, on my own merit, accomplishing.
I had this whole long response written out, but I deleted it because the short answer is that I agree with Jady and find his explanation to be completely sufficient.
Dusty your description of your personal experience with this is powerful!
I do think I should let Dr. Mattes speak for himself on this subject. He was gracious enough to email with me before I posted because I did not want to misrepresent him.
He wrote:
“I agree with you. Think about the prologue to the 10 Commandments, “I am the Lord your God”. If you don’t want God to be your God but yourself to be your god, then this is afflicting, bad news. If you need an all-powerful, all-good God to be your God and take care of you, then the prologue is good news.
When Jesus says, ‘Come unto me all ye who labor’ the reaction might be ‘heck no!, I can do it myself’. Here one is defending their own old Adam or Eve (ambitio divinitatis as Luther put it. Or one might respond, I can’t come, Jesus would never really accept me. But to one who is desperate enough, ‘Come unto me…gives the power that brings Jesus to you.”
One more word because I can’t seem to get enough…
Dr. Mattes also talked about how we actively “defend” ourselves against grace.
It is a crazy thought, defending yourself against grace, but it reveals how desperate the situation is. The idea that God’s grace is a gift is offensive for the reasons that Jady and Dusty gave; it implies that I cannot earn it or deserve it. Therefore, in my arrogance I am bent against it, I need to be brought low to receive it.
The funny thing is that the Gospel always reveals that the arrogance or defense we put up is simply covering over an already very wounded and afflicted person desperate for Someone to love them. It’s like the angry child screaming and pushing against his/her parent and the parent holding them close until they finally cannot fight any more. The parent never lets them go, and they end up falling asleep in their parent’s arms.
If the Law is real, then we are all afflicted whether we are in touch with that or not. Everyone knows what it is to be judged. Everyone knows what it is to not match up. “Every soul needs a Savior.” – Martin Smith (Delirious)