J-Curve E-Book

Paul E. Miller

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 482

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Do we have the wrong map for the Christian life?  Life's inconveniences, disappointments, and trials can leave us confused, cynical, and eventually bitter. But the apostle Paul traces out the path of dying and rising with Jesus—what Paul Miller calls the "J-Curve"—as the normal Christian life.  The J-Curve maps the ups and downs of daily life onto the story of Jesus. It grounds our journeys not in some abstract idea but in union with Christ and his work of love. Understanding our lives in light of the J-Curve roots our hope, centers our love, and tethers our faith to Christ.

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“I can’t express how refreshing I have found this book to be. I’ve been studying these themes of union with Christ, dying and rising with him, and growing in likeness to him for many years in Scripture and in academic writings. What I’ve been missing is a book with the practical, real-world focus that Paul Miller has captured so powerfully. The examples he uses from everyday life, from the lives of ‘ordinary saints,’ and from his own life make it so easy to envision what these gospel truths look like in practice. More than once I thought to myself, ‘This one sentence will be worth the price of the book!’ I can’t wait for this book to come out because I would like my whole church to read it.”

C. D. “Jimmy” Agan III, Senior Pastor, Intown Community Church, Atlanta, Georgia

“I love this book. I feast on Miller’s emphasis on resurrection. I’m enthusiastic about his stress on union with Christ; there’s more to the gospel than justification. But the J-Curve community (part 5) seems best to me. This is a wonderful, bigger, more Jesus gospel! It’s much needed, and Miller’s style is just right, building on scholarly contributions but with personal experience and examples of others. It’s just what you need to equip you for gospel living in our crumbling Christian culture.”

D. Clair Davis, Emeritus Professor of Church History, Westminster Theological Seminary

“This wise and readable book shows how the beloved doctrines of justification and union with Christ shape the thoughts, words, emotions, and actions of believers. I highly recommend this book for everyone who pursues gospel-driven discipleship.”

Dan Doriani, Professor of Theology, Covenant Theological Seminary

“A masterly treatment of the Christian life from a biblical perspective. It takes full account of the absorption with self, the preoccupation with appearance, and the individualism that characterize our age to present a biblical model of living that is both liberating and joy generating. I hope this desperately needed, countercultural approach to life will begin to impact worldwide Christianity more and more.”

Ajith Fernando, Teaching Director, Youth for Christ, Sri Lanka; author, Discipling in a Multicultural World

“Paul Miller’s earlier book on prayer, A Praying Life, had a profound impact on how I understood prayer and reshaped how I taught it. To date I consider it the most important book written in our generation on the subject! I am delighted to see him turn his attention to another misunderstood and forgotten subject—the power of new life that comes from reckoning ourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ. Paul has a way of taking profound truths and making them accessible, and in this book you’ll see why—because he lives them. This is not a book of theological posturing, it is simply a guide written by someone who has walked the path and wants to show you how you can also.”

J. D. Greear, President, Southern Baptist Convention; author, Not God Enough; Pastor, The Summit Church, Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina

“I enjoyed this book on many levels. The apostle Paul tells us that believers have died and been raised with Jesus. Paul Miller helps us discover what this looks like in everyday life. His teaching rings true and will be helpful to many.”

John M. Frame, Emeritus Professor of Systematic Theology and Philosophy, Reformed Theological Seminary

“Nothing is more important for the gospel and for our lives as Christians than the reality of our union with Christ as Scripture teaches us about that union. Paul Miller is to be commended for seeking to apply that teaching to issues of discipleship.”

Richard B. Gaffin Jr., Emeritus Professor of Biblical and Systematic Theology, Westminster Theological Seminary

“Paul Miller has carefully observed Jesus. He has carefully observed how the work of grace unfolds in the apostle Paul’s life and in his own life. Take time with this book. You will become a deeper, wiser, truer person. You will become more humble, more joyous, more purposeful. And you will walk more steadily in the light.”

David Powlison, Executive Director, Christian Counseling & Educational Foundation

“I own my prejudice with respect to my excitement about Paul Miller’s new book, J-Curve. Written with the glory and grace of Philippians 2:5–11 at its core, Miller has given us a most accessible, timely, and theologically sound introduction to life in Christ. Miller has always been known as a great lover of the gospel and a master illustrator, and both are on display in copious measures in J-Curve. This book shows us how to live by the rhythms of the gospel at the pace of grace. A life of union and communion with Jesus has never seemed more beautiful and practical.”

Scotty Ward Smith, Pastor Emeritus, Christ Community Church, Franklin, Tennessee; Teacher in Residence, West End Community Church, Nashville, Tennessee

“‘Take up your cross and follow me.’ What was Jesus asking us to do—or be? How does it play out in everyday life? These questions are intensely practical from the moment I wake up in the morning. And that’s why I love Paul Miller’s new book, J-Curve: Dying and Rising with Jesus in Everyday Life. Never have I read a more practical work on how a Christian can flourish through deep affliction. This book will revolutionize the way you look at your sufferings and your relationship to Christ. If you’re craving a life with your Savior that utterly transforms, this book is your best hands-on guide.”

Joni Eareckson Tada, Founder, Joni and Friends

“The footnotes and shrewdness of this book point to an author who has read widely and pondered deeply. The stories and real-life focus of this book reveal an author who has paid a high price—the laceration of his ego—to begin to learn not only the power of Christ’s resurrection but the fellowship of his sufferings. And a healing, fruitful, even joyful fellowship it is! In just three dozen brief and engrossing chapters, Paul Miller helps the reader see what’s missing in many of our Christian lives—namely, they are sub-Christian! This book demonstrates how faith in Christ can more nearly attain its God-intended goal of a 24/7 immersion in Christ and expression of Christ-like love. Integrating the cross with the resurrection in an unusually graphic and encouraging fashion, this book is sure to not only challenge but also change many lives.”

Robert W. Yarbrough, Professor of New Testament, Covenant Theological Seminary

J-Curve

J-Curve

Dying and Rising with Jesus in Everyday Life

Paul E. Miller

J-Curve: Dying and Rising with Jesus in Everyday Life

Copyright © 2019 by Paul E. Miller

Published by Crossway 1300 Crescent Street Wheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law. Crossway® is a registered trademark in the United States of America.

Cover design: Kevin Lipp

First printing 2019

Printed in the United States of America

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked AT are the author’s translation.

Scripture quotations marked MESSAGE are from The Message. Copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Scripture references marked NRSV are from The New Revised Standard Version. Copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A. Published by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.

All emphases in Scripture quotations have been added by the author.

Some names and details of the stories have been altered.

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-6156-6 ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-6159-7 PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-6157-3 Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-6158-0

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Miller, Paul E., 1953- author.

Title: J-curve: dying and rising with Jesus in everyday life / Paul E. Miller.

Description: Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway, 2019. | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018029012 (print) | LCCN 2018046291 (ebook) | ISBN 9781433561573 (pdf) | ISBN 9781433561580 (mobi) | ISBN 9781433561597 (epub) | ISBN 9781433561566 (tp) | ISBN 9781433561597 (ePub) | ISBN 9781433561580 (Mobipocket)

Subjects: LCSH: Christian life. | Jesus Christ—Crucifixion. | Jesus Christ—Resurrection.

Classification: LCC BV4509.5 (ebook) | LCC BV4509.5 .M555 2019 (print) | DDC 248.4—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018029012

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

2019-05-28 10:03:18 AM

To our beloved daughter Ashley M. Frearson

(November 16, 1975, to September 9, 2018).

We can’t wait to see you again!

Thank you to

Tina Harrell and Catharine Grigsby,

whose generosity make this book possible.

Contents

Illustrations

Part 1: Discovering the J-Curve

 1  “I Will Never Do This Again”: The J-Curve and How It Helps

 2  “I Take Your Place”: The Substitutionary Nature of Love

 3  Marketing the Self: What We Do Instead of the J-Curve

 4  Liberating the Self: The Foundation of the J-Curve

 5  In Harvard: Union with Christ Comes Alive

 6  In Sports or In Christ? How Location Changes Everything

 7  It’s All About Who You Know: Knowing Jesus in the J-Curve

 8  Missing Justification by Faith: The J-Curve without Justification

 9  Missing the J-Curve: Justification by Faith without the J-Curve

Part 2: Dying with Jesus

10  Dying to Self: Understanding Different J-Curves

11  A Cascade of Love: Weaving J-Curves Together

12  Life at the Bottom of the J-Curve: Making Sense of Persistent Evil

13  Living in the Borderland: How to Thrive in a Broken World

Part 3: The Descent of Love

14  Love Loses Control: Discovering the Shape of Love

15  The Art of Disappearing for Love: How the Incarnation Defines Love

16  Recovering a Vision of the Good: The Wonder of the J-Curve

17  Celebrating Christ Bearers: Rediscovering Hidden Saints

18  The Hinge of the J-Curve: Understanding the Will

19  The Four Steps of Love: Re-enacting Jesus’s Descent

20  The J-Curve Calms a Quarrel: Creating a Path to Reconciliation

Part 4: Rising with Jesus

21  Discovering the Power of Resurrection: What Makes the J Go Up?

22  Repersonalizing the Resurrection: Discovering the Forgotten Half of the J-Curve

23  Looking through a Resurrection Lens: The J-Curve Transforms Our Vision of Life

24  The Secret of an Irritation-Free Life: The J-Curve Cures Grumbling

25  Resurrection Realism: The J-Curve Protects Us from Cynicism

26  Delaying Resurrection for Love: Saying No to Good Desire

27  Becoming Human Again: The Emotional Life of the J-Curve

28  The Art of J-Curve Living: Dying and Rising in Twenty-Four Hours

29  Seeing the Big Picture: Multiyear Dying and Rising

Part 5: Forming a J-Curve Community

30  The Power of Weakness: How the J-Curve Defeats Tribalism

31  The Spirit at the Center: Learning Wisdom Down Low

32  Love Treads Softly: Entering the Complexity of Love

33  Leadership Goes Low: Re-enacting Jesus in Community

34  Keeping Jesus Pure: The J-Curve Divides the Community

35  Jesus: The Ultimate Party Crasher

36  The Beauty of a Jesus Community: Including the Distant Outsider

Conclusion

Afterword

Acknowledgments

General Index

Scripture Index

Illustrations

1A  Jesus’s J-Curve and Our J-Curves

2A  My Dying and Jill’s Rising

3A  The Failure-Boasting Chart

3B  Our Flesh

4A  Justification by Faith

4B  Justification by Jill

5A  The Faith J-Curve

5B  In Harvard

6A  Mom’s World vs. Paul’s World

7A  Participating in Christ

8A  The J-Curve without Justification by Faith

9A  Justification by Faith without the J-Curve

9B  Luther and Mother Teresa

10A  3 Present J-Curves

10B  Jesus’s J-Curve and Our J-Curves

11A  A Cascade of Comfort

12A  Boasting in Weakness

12B  What I Want and What Jesus Wants

13A  Continuous Dying and Rising

13B  The World of Adam

13C  The World of Jesus

14A  Kayla’s Monday and Wednesday

14B  The Descent of Love

14C  Kayla’s Love J-Curve

14D  Kayla’s Choices

14E  Kayla vs. Mom

21A  Paul’s Gospel Definition

21B  The Spirit and the Gospel

21C  Dying and Rising by the Spirit

22A  Where the J-Curve Turns Upward

22B  Jesus’s Descent and Ascent

25A  Paganism

25B  A Modern Pilgrimage

26A  Paul’s Choices

27A  A Community Bound by Love

28A  Paul at Philippi

29A  Paul in Jerusalem

29B  Paul in Prison

29C  Mini-resurrections

30A  Honoring Babbius

30B  Examples of Weakness

33A  Paul’s Descent

33B  The Corinthians’ View vs. Paul’s View

33C  Slavery and Freedom

35A  Paul and Pliny

35B  A Working Model of the Church

35C  Baptism

36A  Win-Win vs. Lose-Lose

36B  One-Way Generosity

Part 1

Discovering the J-Curve

What Is the J-Curve?

What Is the Larger Theological Framework of the J-Curve?

What Is the Connection between the J-Curve and Justification by Faith?

1

“I Will Never Do This Again”

The J-Curve and How It Helps

Caring for someone affected by multiple disabilities is never boring. Life is generally pleasant, but at any given moment, you are seconds away from disaster—a part of your brain is always on. So to give my wife, Jill, a break, I decided to take our disabled daughter Kim with me on a speaking trip.

On a Friday in January 2001, Kim and I headed to the Philadelphia airport for a trip to Florida. We had two suitcases and a large box with “seeJesus” written on the side. As soon as we parked, Kim rummaged through the carry-on bag, only to discover that Jill had not packed the recorded book that Kim wanted. She began a low-level whine, one we’ve considered patenting and selling to CIA interrogators. Forget water torture; just play this tape of Kim and your prisoner will be putty in your hands.

When we got to the bus stall, I told Kim we had to wait for the bus, and her whining grew louder and more irritating. Everyone was looking at us. I glanced down at my box, wondering if there was any way I could hide the big “seeJesus” sign. I looked like a religious nut.

When the bus arrived, I had a horrible thought: “How will I get all this luggage and Kim on the bus at the same time?” I decided to help her on first, then return for the luggage. As I was getting on with the luggage, much to Kim’s delight, the back door closed on me. Her well-honed sense of humor kicked in, and she grinned broadly as she watched me shouting at the bus driver while being crushed by the door.

The ride to the terminal was uneventful—Kim is fine as long as she is moving. But when we got to the check-in area, we found a line that wrapped around the terminal. Knowing we’d never make our flight if we got in that line, I headed up the escalator, luggage and Kim in tow. As soon as we got to security, our line merged with another, forming one very long line—and Kim began whining again. Fortunately, she is adept at moving quickly in lines. She stands so close behind people that she bumps them. It’s uncomfortable for them, but they see she’s disabled and often let us go ahead.

When we got to the scanners, Kim wouldn’t put her speech computer on the conveyer belt. She started arguing with the security person, typing out, “It’s my voice.” I yanked her “voice” out of her hand and put it on the belt, and she restarted her whining. Of course, security was suspicious of my “seeJesus” box, so a particularly scrupulous guard scanned it meticulously.

Once through security, we had twenty minutes before our gate closed. I checked the screen. We were in the wrong terminal. We were in Terminal C, but our flight was in B. There was no way we’d make it. I threw myself in front of one of the carts that carry people around and begged for a ride. The driver agreed and whisked us away, but as we came down the long ramp of Terminal B, we got stuck behind a man on his cell phone. Our cart was emitting a loud, persistent beeping, but the man did not pick up his excruciatingly slow pace. As Kim saw me getting tense, she started to smile again.

We made it to the plane, and after settling into our seats, my shoulders relaxed as I hooked Kim up to her audiobook. Then the flight attendant came by and told Kim to turn off her electronic devices. Kim turned off her audiobook, but refused to turn off her speech computer. I reached over and shut off the device—and Kim resumed her whining. A few minutes later, the captain announced, “We have eleven planes ahead of us, so it will be fifteen minutes before departure.” Even though she could not see the line of planes, just knowing we had to wait led Kim to a complete meltdown. I started to say, “Kim, if you don’t stop, we aren’t going to Disney,” but that was one of my reasons for taking her on this trip, so I swallowed my threat. Helpless and embarrassed, I said to myself, “This was a mistake. I will never do this again.”

The next day, Saturday, as I reflected on my reaction, I realized I’d forgotten the J-Curve, the idea, frequently articulated by the apostle Paul, that the normal Christian life repeatedly re-enacts the dying and rising of Jesus. I call it the J-Curve because, like the letter J, Jesus’s life first went down into death, then up into resurrection.

Just like the earthly life of Jesus, the J ends higher than it starts. It’s the pattern not only of Jesus’s life, but of our lives—of our everyday moments. When Kim and I were sitting in the back of the plane, I thought everything had gone wrong. No, the apostle Paul says, the J-Curve is the shape of the normal Christian life. Our lives mirror Jesus’s. In the diagram below you see Jesus’s J-Curve and our present J-Curves.

Fig. 1A. Jesus’s J-Curve and Our J-Curves

The J-Curve is the shape of the normal Christian life. Our lives mirror Jesus’s.

Keep in mind that Jesus’s J-Curve atones for our sins; ours don’t. His is once for all—we have multiple J-Curves that echo his. (For the sake of clarity, when I use the term J-Curve by itself I’m referring to our present J-Curves.) As we shall see, our J-Curves each have their own unique cadences, but they all

1. enter some kind of suffering in which evil is weakened or killed;

2. weaken the flesh and form us into the image of Jesus;

3. lead to a real-time, present resurrection.

Dying and Rising on the Way to Florida

As I reflected on how our travel disaster was the beginning of a J-Curve, our trip went from a lifeless gray to vibrant and multicolored. Like Jesus, I experienced a death followed by a resurrection. The two are inextricably intertwined. Friday’s trip left me drained and weary (dying), which created a spirit of humility as I taught on Saturday (rising). On Saturday, I was in front of a group of people who were listening to my every word. I’m thankful they were such eager listeners, but being at the center of people’s praise is potentially toxic. I’m prone to the leadership sins of overtalking and underlistening, so Friday’s dyingwas God’s gift to inoculate me against the pride lurking behind success and popularity.

The work of love that happens in a J-Curve exposes our hearts in unexpected ways. On Friday, in front of three different crowds (at the bus shelter, in the security line, and on the plane), I was far too concerned with how I looked. In fact, my desire to hide my “seeJesus” box at the bus shelter showed I was ashamed of him. The sign was dead-on—see Jesus in his humility; don’t run from his path of weakness. In fact, that’s the message of this book.

Resurrection has multiple faces. After that Florida trip, I told Kim I’d give her $50 for letting me interview her at a Young Life banquet in Washington, DC. As I interviewed her about our Florida trip, she giggled, smacking her head at all the funny parts of the story. It was a delight to watch her. After the interview, I stepped aside so she could take her speech computer off the podium and sit down, but she didn’t budge. Instead with 250 people listening, she typed out on her speech computer, M-O-N-E-Y. In other words, “Dad, show me the money!” How’s that for a resurrection?

The Right Time to Rediscover the J-Curve

The “collapse” Kim and I went through on our Florida trip is a microcosm of the cultural collapse Western civilization is going through. The rising tide of unbelief and the lure of secular liberalism touch almost every Christian home. Fifty years ago, we called the occasional child who walked away from the faith a black sheep. Now almost every Christian home has children walking away from the faith.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. A young wife, “Sarah,” from a healthy church confided to a friend of mine, “I think I’ve outgrown my marriage.” That’s something you might say about an immature boyfriend, but Sarah said she had “outgrown” her sacred vows to her husband. She used therapeutic language to mask her betrayal.

Sarah’s feelings operated at the center of her decision making. Almost certainly, Sarah encountered some immaturity in her husband, instinctively discarded the biblical morality she grew up with (“Be faithful in marriage”), and reached for the central moral vision of our age, which I’ll call feelism.1By making “How does it/you make me feel?” our moral grid, feelism makes faithfulness—the glue of life—almost impossible. Feelism drives emotions to the center, distorting and amplifying them in the process. As we’ll discover, the J-Curve not only balances our emotions but helps them come alive.

Our world is increasingly filled with people like Sarah who have inhaled the spirit of this age. To quote William Butler Yeats’s poem “The Second Coming,” “the centre cannot hold.” So how does the church survive and even thrive when the world is going crazy from the care of the sacred self? As we shall see, there’s no better time than now to rediscover what Jesus’s dying and rising means. That’s why I’ve written this book, to help prepare the bride, the wife of the Lamb, for suffering.

The J-Curve not only balances our emotions but helps them come alive.

But this is nota book on coping with suffering. My goal is to draw you, the reader, into the dying and rising of Jesus—to reset your sense of the normal Christian life, freeing you from cynicism and despair. Inhabiting the J-Curve promises to transform your entire vision of how you engage life, freeing you from the world of resentment, touchiness, and just plain old grumpiness, and inviting you into Jesus’s world, a world rich with joy, hope, and love.

We will pay attention to two cultural lenses that prevent us from living the J-Curve: the lenses of the manager and the therapist.2 For example, the manager looks at my flight with Kim and says, “You should have left more time for traveling with Kim” (true), “It’s not wise to combine too many things like speaking and caring for Kim” (possibly), and “You should have brought someone to help you” (yes, I did that the next time). The therapist tells me, “You need to do something for yourself” (true), then asks, “Do you have a problem with anger?” (yes, Kim brings out the best and the worst in me) or “Have you thought of putting Kim in a home?” (no, she’s God’s gift to us; plus she’s one of my best friends). Both the manager and the therapist have pieces of wisdom, but they miss love. Because they play it safe, they miss life in all its richness. They miss that not only was God resurrecting my soul and saving me from pride during my trip with Kim, but also that my mini-death gave Jill a mini-resurrection. That’s how love works.

When I felt ashamed and frustrated with Kim, I mirrored the state of the church. I’d forgotten the J-Curve. Just as Martin Luther rediscovered justification by faith in the early 1500s, we need to rediscover the J-Curve in today’s rising storm of unbelief and evil.

Like a diamond, each facet of the J-Curve refracts the light in a slightly different way on the wonder of Jesus’s death and resurrection. In the upcoming pages, we will journey with the apostle Paul as he lives and teaches the J-Curve in his writings and his life.

You might think I’m overstating the importance of the J-Curve. But the apostle actually writes more about the J-Curve than he does justification by faith, which is his focus in Romans and Galatians. But the J-Curve dominates Philippians, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Romans 6 and 8, Colossians 1 and 3, and Ephesians 1, and it is modeled in Philemon, 1 Thessalonians, and Acts. Beginning with Philippians, we’ll focus on Paul’s J-Curve writings.

When I explained the J-Curve to a group of pastors, they wondered why they’d never heard it before. One said, “I guess we are more focused on the theological than the practical.” I said, “No, our theological vision is too narrow.” My goal is to add to our Romans/Galatians lens a neglected Pauline lens: the J-Curve.

At each point, our understanding of the J-Curve and how it transforms our everyday life, even our emotions, will become clearer. Here’s an overview of what we’ll cover:

Part 1, “Discovering the J-Curve,” introduces the J-Curve and explores the relationship between the J-Curve and three great truths of the Reformation: (1) the flesh, (2) justification by faith, and (3) union with Christ. The lack of integration of the J-Curve with these truths has led to theological imbalance and thus weakness in how we do life.

Part 2, “Dying with Jesus,”is where we begin to follow the path of the J-Curve down into death and then up into resurrection. Part 2 gives an overview of three different types of J-Curves, then takes a deeper look at the repentanceJ-Curve, where we put to death our sins, and the sufferingJ-Curve, where outside suffering leads us into dying with Jesus.

Part 3, “The Descent of Love,”explores the love J-Curve, where love leads to suffering, by looking at Jesus’s descent of love. We examine the DNA of love—humility and incarnation. By DNA, I mean a deep structure that permeates the whole. We also look at the danger of getting stuck in dying and making an idol out of humility.

Part 4, “Rising with Jesus,” focuses on the resurrection side of the J-Curve. We watch Paul look at life through a resurrection lens. He creates a tapestry of love as he embodies Jesus’s dying and rising in his and his coworkers’ lives. We follow Paul in his travels to discover insights into the art of living life in the dying and rising of Jesus.

Part 5, “Forming a J-Curve Community,” shifts our focus from the individual to the community. Paul uses the J-Curve to reshape an entire community into the image of Jesus. We descend into the nitty-gritty of life in the ancient world as Paul uses the J-Curve to relentlessly confront a culture that has kept the gospel from forming a true Jesus community.

Because this book is about the gospel in everyday life, I’ve intertwined my own stories with those of others—Luther, Mother Teresa, and Joni Eareckson Tada. But our main focus is on the apostle Paul’s journey for Jesus and into Jesus. Along the way, we’ll encounter leaking Dixie cups, bench-warming hockey players, a sheep named Ed, and a host of everyday problems. These stories don’t illustrate the J-Curve; they embody it, with the goal of helping you retell your stories in the light of the death and resurrection of Jesus. To “embody” simply means that you give a tangible or visible form to an idea.

Welcome to our pilgrimage into the wonder of the gospel!

1. A leading moral philosopher, Alasdair MacIntyre, writes, “The unrecognized philosophical power of emotivism is one clue to its cultural power.” After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory, 3rd ed. (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007), 20. See pp. 6–22 for MacIntyre’s description of the grip that emotivism (feelism) has on our culture. My son John and I coined the word feelism.

2. I prize the skilled work of many managers and therapists. I do both in my work. I’m critiquing, as you’ll see, a whole cultural mind-set or value system.

2

“I Take Your Place”

The Substitutionary Nature of Love

The Sunday after Friday’s plane trip to Florida, I took Kim to Disney World. We just missed the tram, which meant a brief wait. With Kim whining in the background, I called home to see how Jill was doing. Our daughter Ashley answered, “Every five minutes Mom says, ‘I can’t believe how quiet it is without Kim.’” I got death and Jill got resurrection. Substitution is the heart of love.

Every great love story has substitution in it. For instance, in Les Misérables, when Jean Valjean steals the bishop’s silverware, the police return him to the bishop to confirm the theft. The bishop, in a breathtaking triumph of love, assures the police that the silverware was a gift, and he even scolds Valjean for forgetting to take the silver candlesticks. Much to the disgust of the police, who know the bishop is covering for Jean, the bishop gives Jean the last of his silver, the candlesticks. The bishop substitutes his silver for Valjean’s freedom. That’s the structure of love.

Filling Up What Is Lacking in Christ’s Afflictions

My discovery of the J-Curve began in the late 1980s after I’d written a course on how the gospel applies to our lives. I noticed the apostle Paul didn’t just preach the gospel, he relived it. This passage from Colossians 1:24 and others like it caught my attention:

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.

Fig. 2A. My Dying and Jill’s Rising

It seemed strange, almost uncomfortable, that Paul says he rejoices in his sufferings. Most of us endure or cope with suffering, but we don’t rejoicein it. Then he says he is sufferingfor their sake. How can he suffer for the believers in Colossae? He isn’t even close to them; he is in Rome, a month’s travel from Colossae. Strangest of all, he says he is filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions. How can anything be lacking in Christ’s afflictions? Jesus’s death was “once for all.” I’d never thought about this before. It seemed new and strange.1 I’d seen this verse applied to missionaries who suffered for the gospel, but not to me, not to everyday life.

How could anything be lacking in Christ’s afflictions?

Paul’s letter to Philemon, the companion letter to Colossians,especially riveted me. It’s where I first discovered the J-Curve.Philemon, a wealthy leader in the church in Colossae, had a slave named Onesimus who ran away to Paul in Rome and was dramatically changed by his encounter with the apostle.2 Paul sent Onesimus (his name means “useful”) back to Philemon with this letter, which was read to the entire congregation. In the letter, Paul asks Philemon not only to accept Onesimus, but to welcome him as a brother. Paul hints that Philemon should give Onesimus his freedom.3 The gospel permeates Paul’s assumptions as he makes his case to Philemon. Look at Paul’s seemingly innocuous comment to Philemon about Onesimus, the runaway slave:

I would have been glad to keep him with me, in order that he might serve me on your behalf during my imprisonment for the gospel. (Philem. 13)

Paul suggests that Philemon “gift” Onesimus to Paul “that he might serve me on your behalf.” Just as Jesus died for us, Paul assumes Philemon will want Onesimus to serve on Philemon’s behalf. This is an expensive assumption—a male slave could be valued at as much as $150,000 in today’s figures.4 For Paul, the lived-out gospel trumps Philemon’s property rights (according to Roman law, he owns Onesimus) and Roman justice (Onesimus ran away). Paul invites Philemon into a fellowship of Christ’s sufferings (Phil. 3:10) in an offhand way, sure that Philemon has the same perspective. Paul presumes that Philemon considers substitutionary love normal. “The DNA of Jesus has so shaped Paul that he can’t imagine a Christian life that isn’t radically shaped in this same way.”5

Later in the letter, Paul offers to substitute himself for Onesimus:

If he has wronged you at all, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, write this with my own hand: I will repay it. (Philem. 18–19b)

Paul assumes that both he and Philemon would gladly substitute themselves for each other; it’s how they do life. For that reason, Paul’s request doesn’t seem odd to them.

Since Paul’s letter to the Colossians is read to the church at the same time as his letter to Philemon, Paul’s “off the cuff” remark about “filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions”also makes sense to them. That means that the J-Curve is their normal. The entire congregation sees life as defined by substitutionary love that participates in Christ’s dying and rising. The gospel re-enacted functions at the DNA level for how the church does life.

Here’s my paraphrase of what Paul says:

I know that all of you at Colossae don’t just believe the gospel; you act out the gospel in a life of dying love for one another. Just as Jesus substituted himself for you, so you live a life of substitutionary love. The gospel has radically reshaped your relationships. It’s natural, then, for me to presume Philemon would willingly gift Onesimus to help me; that’s how you do life. But I’m not asking for that. I simply want Philemon to receive Onesimus back not just as a slave, but as a brother.

Ed the Sheep

When I was discovering this in Philemon, our family, but especially Jill, was under enormous pressure. Our six kids, aged three to sixteen, were constantly fighting and whining. Caring for Kim, our fourth child, had depleted our savings; we were living from paycheck to paycheck. Jill did all her gift buying for the kids at thrift stores, putting the best face on it by packing their presents in boxes from brand-name stores. Our kids figured out what she was doing and started sniffing their stale-smelling presents when they opened the boxes! Then Kim was kicked out of a school because they didn’t think she could learn.

Every area of our life had become extraordinarily difficult—and Jill felt the brunt of it. I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t know how to love her. She was hemmed in on every side. With Philemon in mind, I prayed God would allow me to experience what she was experiencing. I wrote this prayer in my journal in January 1991:

Father,

How do I love her?

How do I give myself up for her?

How do I die for her?

When I prayed this prayer, I wasn’t sure what it looked like to “give myself up for her.” Over the next few years, God began to show me what that looked like in everyday moments.

Here’s one glimpse. We’d moved to the edge of Philadelphia’s northern suburbs in 1993 to get better schooling for Kim. We had a place that allowed Jill to fulfill her childhood dream of having farm animals. Growing up on the streets of Philly with a concrete backyard, she had longed for some green acres. We had four pygmy goats and one big sheep named Ed.

In the winter of 1995, our local weather forecasters began predicting the storm of the century. A couple of days before the storm, Jill began worrying about her animals in their little wooden shelters. Since Ed had a six-inch-deep coat of wool, I wasn’t concerned, but I called a local sheep farmer and asked if the animals would be OK. He said yes, as long as they had shelters. I shared this with Jill, and it seemed to calm her.

On Saturday evening, when we already had a foot of snow on the ground, Jill began to get nervous again. We knew the goats were savvy and would go into their sheds, but Ed wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box. I went to bed about 10 p.m. and was drifting off to sleep when I heard Jill’s voice from the next room: “Paul, would you check the sheep? I’m concerned about Ed.” As I lay there, I plotted my response. I’d remind her of what the farmer had said, then I’d explain the insulating value of snow, not to mention Ed’s thick coat. But I knew Jill well enough to realize that none of this would convince her. She’d just go out into the blizzard by herself, which would just get me more irritated at her.

Then I remembered how Paul re-enacted the gospel. I thought, “This isn’t complicated. I can substitute my warmth for her worry.” The problem wasn’t Ed, but Jill’s anxiety. So I crawled out of bed, put on my boots and jacket, and checked Ed. He was fine, so Jill was too.

“This isn’t complicated. I can substitute my warmth for her worry.”

In the morning, we trudged out together into a winter wonderland of snow to check on the animals, but especially Ed. As we called his name, we made a poem: “Where is Ed? Is Ed dead? Will he come out of his bed?” Finally, one of the lumps on the field began to move, and out popped Ed!

A New Vision of Normal

In this small act of dying, I loved my wife differently. I realized that in Philemon and elsewhere, Paul was re-enacting the gospel, Jesus’s death for us. The word for means the weight of our sins comes on Jesus. Paul uses for when he defines the gospel:

The Lord Jesus Christ . . . gave himself for our sins. (Gal. 1:3a–4b)

Christ died for our sins. (1 Cor. 15:3b)

So just as Jesus substitutes himself for us, we substitute the pieces of our lives for others. Now I understood how Paul could fill up what was lacking in Christ’s afflictions.6Jesus’s death was once for all. His death for Jill was finished—mine was ongoing. I could substitute myself for the pieces of her life, like checking on Ed. So I had a mini-death, and Jill could live. Paul articulates this:

For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you. (2 Cor. 4:11–12)

Seeing this pattern of substitutionary love reoriented my vision of what it was to be a Christian. For example, in those years I enjoyed reading Time magazine. Instead of interrupting my reading of Time to love, I started interrupting love to read Time. It was the difference between a life of low-level irritation (when the kids interrupted my reading of Time) and a life devoted to people (when I interrupted my loving them by reading Time).

Here’s the thing: when we understand that substitution is the heart of love, we see life through a different lens. We realize that all of life is love. Love is 24-7.

1. The influential scholar Albert Schweitzer called this pattern Paul’s “mysticism.” See The Mysticism of Paul the Apostle, trans. William Montgomery (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998).

2. James D. G. Dunn, TheEpistles to the Colossians and to Philemon (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans), 304–5. We have at least one record of a slave running away from his master in Roman times to a potential mediator who appeals on the slave’s behalf by letter.

3. See N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013) 12–15.

4. Mary Beard mentions two slave prices in Pompeii: 1,500 and 6,252 sesterces (one quarter of a denarius). Pompeii: The Life of a Roman Town (London: Profile Books, 2008), 179. A denarius would be worth about $100 (Matt. 20:2) in modern terms, showing that slaves could be very costly.

5. Jimmy Agan in personal correspondence.

6. Richard B. Gaffin Jr. writes about Col. 1:24, “This union is such that not only can the sufferings of believers be viewed as Christ’s and as being conformed to his death, but also the personal, past-historical sufferings of Christ and the present afflictions of the church are seen together as constituting one whole. Again, certainly not in the sense that the sufferings of the church have some additive atoning, reconciling value.” “The Usefulness of the Cross,” Westminster Theological Journal 41, no. 2 (Spring 1979): 242. See also John Murray, The Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1959), 299.

3

Marketing the Self

What We Do Instead of the J-Curve

What do we do instead of living the J-Curve? What’s our default way of operating? Simple: we boast. The J-Curve goes down; we want to go up.

Paul describes his pre-Jesus self in Philippians 3 by recalling his boasting. He divides seven boasts into lists of four and three. I’ve written them below as an ascending stair, to reflect Paul’s boasting spirit.

If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: [Read from the bottom up.]

as to righteousness under the law, blameless[!] (Phil. 3:4–6)1

as to zeal, a persecutor of the church;

as to the law, a Pharisee;

a Hebrew of Hebrews[!]

of the tribe of Benjamin,

of the people of Israel,

circumcised on the eighth day,

Paul’s first four boasts describe his blue-blood Jewish heritage. In a shame-honor culture (the entire ancient world), your identity came from your family, your birth order, and your tribe. Identity was given, not earned. Like all Jews, Paul was “circumcised on the eighth day.” But he wasn’t an ordinary Jew: he was “of the tribe of Benjamin,” the only northern tribe that stayed with Judah when ancient Israel divided. Paul’s parents proudly named him Saul after the first king of Israel, a Benjaminite. The tribe of Benjamin was the warrior tribe—the shock troops who led the Israelite army into battle.2 Paul concludes his first list with a flourish, describing himself as “a Hebrew of Hebrews”!

Paul’s next three boasts shift to his personal achievements. He had become an elite Pharisee, scrupulous in following the law, highly educated by a famous rabbi, Gamaliel (see Acts 22:3). But even among the Pharisees, Paul stood out because he zealously persecuted the church. Zeal was a code word for a devout Jew who fought the enemies of God, like Aaron’s son Phineas, who speared an Israelite man committing adultery with a Midianite woman (Num. 25:6–13; Ps. 106:30–31).3 Paul ends with another crescendo—“under the law, blameless!” As he writes elsewhere,

I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my own age among my people. (Gal. 1:14a)

He was the best of the best!

The Flesh—Our Ancient Allergy to God

Paul’s boasts move him up from shame to honor, from failure to boasting. I’ve charted Paul’s boasts on the Failure-Boasting Chart below.

Our English word boast is misleading because it has a narrow, negative meaning. The Greek word boast encompasses the ideas of “glory” or “rejoice,”so it’s often translated that way. For example, in February 2018, the Philadelphia Eagles won the Super Bowl for the first time. The day before the game, as my plane landed in Philadelphia, one of the Southwest Airlines flight attendants led the whole plane in the Eagles’ fight song, “Fly, Eagles Fly”! For the next six months in my travels, I boasted—that is, I gloried and rejoiced—that we’d won. That is good boasting. It’s what humans do. We are always glorying in something. The problem is the object of our glory.

Fig. 3A. The Failure-Boasting Chart

You can see the wider meaning of boast in our text above when Paul talks about his “confidence in the flesh.”The problem isn’t confidence—we are all confident in something—but the object of Paul’s confidence—his flesh. Paul glories in his flesh.

Flesh is Paul’s short-hand for our ancient allergy to God, our natural bent toward evil.4 The flesh is us on our own, independent of God, relentlessly promoting ourselves. Paul isn’t dealing with the isolated sin of boasting, of openly praising ourselves; he’s dealing with the boasting self,our secret quest for our own glory. We might never actually boast,but we might live our life dominated by the boasting self—critical, judgmental, and quietly superior. You see, in the boasting self, praise due to God turns in on ourselves.

Our flesh reverses the two great commandments: instead of loving others, we love ourselves (pride); and instead of loving God, we seek other gods (idolatry). Pride and idolatry work hand in glove. Paul’s alternative god or idol was obedience to the law.5 The law was life for Paul.6 That, in turn, provided a path for Paul to exalt himself. We can feel that as he ends each of his two lists with a flourish. Our false gods not only promise life, but make us look good. Judaism was a platform for the display of Paul.7

Paul’s boastingembodies the flesh just as Jesus’s dying and rising, the J-Curve, embodies goodness. Good and evil don’t float; they are always personified. So just before Paul’s seven boasts, he warns the Philippians about the Judaizers who demand that Gentile believers be circumcised:8

Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who mutilate the flesh. For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory [or “boast”]in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh—though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. (Phil. 3:2–4)9

Notice Paul doesn’t say, “Look out for the flesh” or “Look out for legalism.” He says, “Look out for men who embody ‘the law as life.’” By demanding circumcision, these “cutters” “mutilate the flesh.” In fact, Paul says, “We Christians are the real circumcision, the authentic Jews, because we’ve shifted our boast from ourselves to Christ.” Paul never stops boasting; he just shifts from boasting about himself to boasting about Christ.

Boasting Was Like Breathing

Paul’s pre-Jesus self wasn’t satisfied with merely going up; he was compelled to announce it. I mean, what’s the point of being awesome if no one notices?

That was my dilemma in 1991 at the end of an hourlong meeting with my boss (my dad) and our mission’s communications director. I realized it wasn’t clear that I was the one who had come up with the idea we were discussing. At least, no one had mentioned that it was my idea. I could have easily corrected this oversight with an aside, such as, “When I first came up with this idea . . .” As I began to think of a discreet way to say this, I sensed the dissonance between my desire to “provide clarity” and not wanting to appear boastful. I’m not sure why I felt that dissonance because boasting was like breathing in our family. But my desire to manipulate the conversation ever so slightly bothered me, so I remained silent.

As the door closed, I was overwhelmed with a sense of despair and loneliness.

The meeting ended and my coworkers left. As the door closed, I was overwhelmed with a sense of despair and loneliness. I felt unbelievably empty, like I was disappearing. Life no longer had any point. Why bother putting so much energy into the mission? I turned off the lights and went over to the window, opened my Bible to John 6, and read Jesus’s conversation with the crowd at Capernaum the morning after his feeding of the five thousand. In response to the crowd manipulating him to give them more food, Jesus said,

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. . . . For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. (John 6:51, 55)

As I read, I was overcome with an enormous hunger for Christ. My desire to boast seemed distant, out of place. Something new was drawing me. I felt strangely full.

Look how this story maps on the Failure-Boasting Chart below. I’d come up with a good idea that, to my mind, placed me high on the chart. My coworkers’ silence suggested they viewed me lower, an oversight I could fix with an offhand comment, which would enlarge their vision of me and move me up the chart. Like the apostle Paul, I wanted my success in ministry to be seen. I was using God-work to elevate myself.

Fig. 3B. Our Flesh

Why did I feel so empty when I didn’t boast? Think of the flesh as a monster that must be fed. Addiction simply means you have regular feeding times for your flesh. Usually a steady diet of low-level boasting fed my flesh, but now my stomach was growling. Like a drug addict, I needed a fix. My silence cut off an alternative source of life.

But what was the source of my overwhelming hunger for Christ that seemingly came out of the blue? Faith. Faith grew out of awareness of my emptiness. My faith shifted from my coworkers’ approval to God’s. Very simply, faith replaced the boast. If we constantly feed our addictions, we miss the real feast.

Notice how feeding on Christ reshaped and stabilized my feelings. When I wanted to boast, I felt neglected, overlooked, and unappreciated. If I’d made those feelings absolute (feelism), that would have fed a creeping resentment and nourished a victim narrative. Feelism doesn’t understand that feelings emerge from the heart. If my heart is off, then my feelings will also be out of tune. So when I said no to my flesh, not only did those old feelings disappear, but new feelings emerged—sadness and emptiness, which opened the door to a new love for Christ.

Faith Replaces the Boast

After Paul’s seven boasts, he turns in disgust from himself to faith in Jesus. Three times Paul goes back and forth between his old loves and his new love. Watch Paul’s growing disgust with the flesh on the one hand and his growing love for Jesus on the other. First, he simply reflects,

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. (Phil. 3:7)

He realized his confidence in his past achievements, his gain, is really a loss compared to Christ. Paul’s intensity grows as he reflects a second time,

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. (v. 8a)

With growing passion, Paul realizes that everything outside of Jesus is a loss!Why? Because nothing compares to “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” This is because Christ is “the only knowledge worth having, a knowledge so transcendent in value that it compensates for the loss of everything else!”10

As Paul reflects a third time, he becomes even more impassioned:

For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith. (vv. 8b–9)

Paul ends with a flourish, asserting that anything other than Christ is not just a loss; it’s rubbish—a polite translation for manure. He retches not only at the thought of his boasting, but also at the entire system of the flesh, his preoccupation with himself and how he’s doing. It’s all manure. His seven boasts told the story of Paul, of how amazing he was. That story now disgusts him; he’s now completely enamored by the story of Jesus. Both our flesh and our faith boast or glory. In other words, Paul has just shifted from worship of himself to worship of Jesus.

Just as the old Paul embodied the flesh, so the new Paul embodies faith. Embodiment is a lost category of our faith. If you miss embodiment, you’ll see Paul’s trust but miss his wonder and love. I’ve asked multiple mature Christians to tell me how, in Philippians 3:7–9, Paul relates to Jesus. No one ever mentions love. Eventually I hint, under the influence of Kim, “Don’t think in spiritual categories—think of Disney princess movies.” Then someone says, “Paul’s in love!”

Frankly, I don’t expect anyone to say love, partly because we seldom hear about Paul’s love for Jesus or people. Consequently, we lose a sense of Paul as a person. When we come to things like faith, we put on spiritual hats and forget the real world. This is a lingering effect on the church of Greek Stoicism, which deprecated the physical and muted categories such as “in love.”11 But here Paul overflows with love. He’s enchanted with Jesus.

Since the Reformation, the church (in general) has been better at seeing sin and idols than seeing and celebrating love. We have a clear vision of what we shouldn’t be, but a dull vision of what we should be. Our wonderful Reformation emphasis on sin and grace needs to be enlarged to encompass a vision of beauty and love. Otherwise, we’ll get stuck in the darkness. Our cynical age amplifies this tendency because cynicism is the craft of seeing evil in others’ motives. If we are not captured by a larger vision of the beauty of Jesus, we will see evil everywhere—especially in the church. You see, one of the flesh’s most toxic characteristics is its ability to rivet you on evil. We see this characteristic of the flesh in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings,when the wizard Saruman, though initially good, becomes entrapped by evil by looking into the crystal ball at the evil Sauron.

In summary, seeing how our flesh works is oddly encouraging. A clear-eyed vision of how our idolatry and pride work together helps us see how critical faith is to shifting our boast from ourselves to Christ. As we shall see, what we do instead of the J-Curve (the flesh) helps us understand how the J-Curve repeatedly unmasks and emaciates the flesh’s power by inverting the Failure-Boasting Chart. It is the ultimate flesh-killer.

We have a clear vision of what we shouldn’t be, but a dull vision of what we should be.

1. I have added exclamation marks in 3:5–6 to capture Paul’s ending his lists with a closing “flourish.”

2. Gen. 49:27; Judg. 5:14; 20–21; and Hos. 5:8 fit this picture of the Benjaminites as a warrior culture.

3. See Dane C. Ortlund, Zeal without Knowledge: The Concept of Zeal in Romans 10, Galatians 1, and Philippians 3, The Library of New Testament Studies(London: T&T Clark International, 2012), 150–65. Ortlund writes, Paul “was so deeply and passionately concerned about maintaining Jewish solidarity and adherence to Torah [law] that he would go to any length, even Phinehan-like violence, to snuff out perceived threats to such cherished loyalties” (154).

4. John Calvin writes about “confidence in the flesh”: “For under the term flesh he includes everything of an external kind in which an individual is prepared to glory . . . he gives the name of flesh to everything that is apart from Christ. He thus reproves . . . the perverse zealots of the law, because, not satisfied with Christ, they have recourse to grounds of glorifying apart from him. He has employed the terms glorying, and having confidence, to denote the same thing. For confidence lifts up a man, so that he ventures even to glory, and thus the two things are connected.” Commentaries on the Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, trans. John Pringle (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2003), 89 (emphasis added).

5. Rom. 1:16–3:18 is Paul’s “brief history of the flesh.” The flesh’s most basic move is rejection of God and the worship of alternative gods or idols.

6. See also Douglas J. Moo, Galatians