O Liberté, que de crimes on commet en ton nom!

Freedom and liberty, the clarion calls of those who typically abuse the very things they claim to defend. The news is awash with yet another American mass shooting. President Obama makes his 15th statement about shootings since he took office. He once again makes a plea for tighter gun controls. The usual suspects reply with their standard cry. In the name of freedom, people continue to be killed all the day long.

It is a gross act of sin to use the cause of freedom to persist with a situation that continuously and repeatedly leads to death. Just as the those on the right would (rightly) have no truck with arguments that rely on freedom to continue the systematic destruction of children in utero, the call for tighter gun controls are no less unimpressed with arguments from freedom while people are being repeatedly killed. While human beings are dying, using freedom and liberty as the basis for letting it continue is nothing short of iniquitous.

This side of the pond, where we have never quite had the same national obsession with personal armaments, may seem easy. The Dunblane massacre in 1996 was the impetus to introduce two firearms Acts which effectively banned the private ownership of handguns. However, even prior to the mid-90s, it was not exactly the norm to own a gun. Nevertheless, this same approach to freedom exists as much here as it does in the US. Our approach to abortion rights is often based on this same spurious reasoning and our recent national debate on the 'right to die' also leaned heavily on such arguments. Though it may not be gun control, we are not immune from the questionable application of freedom despite the obvious, dangerous and highly troubling effects on the people.

As Christians, we don't always stand apart from this specious reasoning either. Yes, we may oppose abortion and euthanasia, we may be pro-gun controls, yet this same tendency can exist in Christian circles too. It is called antinomianism. There can be an insistence upon freedom despite the fact that, in the name of the freedom we proclaim, people are lost. In the name of freedom in Christ, gross acts of sin are justified because "we're free". Freedom once again becomes a call from those who, frankly, want to abuse the freedom that is theirs in Christ. By abusing freedom this way, many who think they are safe remain lost in their sin. Christ did not win our freedom so that we may carry on as before. Our freedom in Christ is not a freedom to ignore his commands and continue in our sin. We have been freed from sin in Christ. To carry on sinning, and to use this hard won freedom as the basis to do so, is the most offensive way to treat Jesus. 

Freedom is a most important civil liberty that must be defended. It is a most important Christian concept that must be defended theologically. However, using freedom as a basis to defend/reject law that was intended to protect the individual, is nothing short of perverse. It doesn't matter whether we are talking civil liberty or Christian liberty, freedom is not there to the detriment of the life of the people. Anyone arguing otherwise has neither stared down the barrel of a gun nor come to terms with the doctrine of Hell.

Communion, individualism and your relationship with God

"that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ." (1 John 1:3)

One of the problems in the church - dare I say, especially within Evangelical circles - is that of rampant individualism which has, in turn, given rise to church consumerism. This individualism starts at our view of salvation (it's a personal thing between me and God) and soon works its way out into our church life and everyday Christian walk. On this view, church becomes very "me-centric". It is about what the church can do for me, how it makes me feel, whether it serves my particular desires and whether it helps to improve or impede my personal relationship with God.

I am always struck by the order of John's words in 1 John 1:3. He does not say - as many of us would expect - get yourself into a right relationship with God and then we may begin to have fellowship. Rather, he says we have come to you "so that you too may have fellowship with us". Only then does John tell us that such fellowship entails being right with the Father and his Son. In other words, John's view is first corporate and then individual, not the other way round. 

John also says in v4 "we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete". If John is writing in order to have fellowship, it follows that his joy would be complete in having such proper Christian fellowship with those to whom he writes. So whilst he is calling the readers into a relationship with God, he is actually calling them into corporate fellowship with the church which they cannot have without a relationship with God.

On this reading, our approach to church takes on a different edge. It is less about what the church can do for me and more about how I can build up the church. If this actually becomes the modus operandi of every individual member, each of us would be working to build up the others and each of us would find our own needs met by a series of people who are looking to build up people other than themselves. Our fellowship is primarily corporate, not individual, but we cannot have such corporate fellowship without an individual relationship with God.

All of that is by way of a long introduction to the issue at hand. Communion can be one of the places where church individualism is expressed at its worst. There is a mysticism that says communion is primarily about me and my relationship with God. It is the place where I reflect upon all that the Lord has done for me. Whilst that is certainly involved, I think this approach is to fundamentally misunderstand what we are doing at the communion table.

Communion is the family meal. It is the place where we come together to express our unity with one another in Christ and our ongoing association with this particular church. Communion is not primarily about your personal relationship with God. It is primarily about your corporate relationship with God's people which you cannot have apart from an individual relationship with Christ. By taking communion, we are saying we are unified with this church and we are united to them through our personal union with Christ. Communion is primarily corporate not an act of personal individualism.

That means if we seek to take communion outside of the corporate gathering of the church, we are really missing the point of the communion service. It is not a mystic act between us and God but a corporate act between us and the church with whom we are only unified in Christ. Anything that detracts from the corporate element of communion - regardless of how well-intentioned - will miss the point. The bread and wine are memorials of Jesus' body and blood but those symbols bear witness to the ongoing association of God's people in Christ. We do not take the emblems so they will impart grace but we take them to symbolise our corporate unity in Jesus, which we cannot have unless he is our personal Lord and saviour.

It is true that we are expressing our standing as believers in communion. It is true that we claim an ongoing association with Jesus when we take the emblems. But that is not all we are doing. In fact, it is not even primarily what we are doing. We are primarily associating with Jesus' church, claiming to be fully unified with them in Christ. 

If that is what we are primarily doing, then individual communions - or communion apart from the corporate body - misses the point altogether. Of course, we cannot be unified to the body without a personal, individual relationship with Christ and we affirm this in communion. But, we primarily affirm our unity to one another which only exists in Christ. It is Christ who bought our unity, it is the work of Christ on the cross and the ongoing work of the Spirit that actually unifies us, but it is our unity with one another in Him that takes centre stage. We can't affirm our unity without affirming our standing in Christ but we absolutely shouldn't make communion yet another means of pressing individualism in the church.

Gay Marriage (again)

It was reported in Tuesday's Telegraph that UKIP would "strip Christian weddings of their legal status". Similarly, ten days earlier, Simon Hughes - Liberal Democrat justice minister - said Christian wedding ceremonies "should have no legal status". In both cases, an argument was advanced for the separation of Church and State. Under such rules, all religious groups (not just Christians) would be expected to undertake two ceremonies: a state-recognised marriage followed by a religious ceremony if the couple wish. Hughes argued "you would have a ceremony by which the state recognises the marriage, the wedding, and then the faith community has the ceremony which gives that the authority”. The Archbishop Cranmer blog has commented on the UKIP story here whilst The Christian Institute report on Simon Hughes' comments here.

This blog has made no secret of its position on either Church/State separation (see here, here & here) or gay marriage (see here & here). Rather unusually, one finds oneself in agreement with both UKIP and the Liberal Democrats simultaneously.

For Cranmer, the issue revolves around the disestablishment of the Church of England coupled to his rampant Euro-scepticism. The position espoused by Farage and Hughes would necessitate the disestablishment of the state church which, to His Grace, would be anathema. For the Christian Institute, much of the issue revolves around parity for homosexual marriage. Having previously denounced civil partnerships as "gay marriage in all but name" (see here & here), it is difficult for them to maintain "although the media and some homosexuals like to call civil partnerships ‘gay marriages’, they are not marriages in law or in reality" as they have since tried (see here). Their argument revolves around the existence of civil partnerships which, they claim, make gay marriage null and void. In truth, the objection is less about legal parity as cultural equality, an issue on which the boat sailed some while ago.

For the Christian, it is always difficult to work one's faith out in the public square. What are the issues on which we ought to legislate? Should we seek to implement scriptural commands in civil law? If so, which? How far do we allow for cultural mores that seem antithetical to scripture? Before we can answer the questions surrounding gay marriage, we must first address these basic first principles (my attempt to answer some of these can be read here). 

The non-conformist, dissenting tradition to which I belong has a long history of seeking freedom as a disenfranchised group. How sad it is that many now view evangelicals, most of whom belong to this camp, as limiting to themselves the freedoms for which they fought bitter battles. It is equally unfortunate that those who holds such views often fail to recognise it is precisely those battles won long ago that allow minority groups the freedom to campaign for their own interests over and against the opinion of many evangelicals.

On the issue of gay marriage, the proposals outlined by Farage and Hughes provide an opportunity for Christians to support another minority group's right to freedom (as we ourselves would expect from others) whilst maintaining a clear, scriptural view of the issue at hand. The State may grant legal, contractual living agreements to whomever it will whilst, with the separation of Church and State, the Church may provide ceremonies for whomever it will too. This solution removes discrimination at state level, the absurdity of certain churches forbidden to carry out ceremonies against their wishes whilst affording no protection to those who cannot countenance carrying them out, and grants legal parity to all whilst making provision for each to carry out their marriage (both institution and individual) in the manner befitting their belief and culture.

Mark Steel is half right... nobody will abandon religion simply because an atheist bangs on about science

I generally like Mark Steel. He is usually funny and happens to take a political stance in his comedy that appeals to such as me. I was interested to read his piece in today's Independent in which he (rightly) argued nobody is going to abandon religion simply because "some atheist is banging on at them about science".

Steel is apt to recognise religious belief - as with almost any other firmly held position - is more than a mere matter of assent to facts/ideas (delete according to your predisposition). He comments, "dealing with the intricacies of people’s ideas requires more than yelling science at them" and offers the example of the anorexic who believes they are fat to underline the point. What passes as obvious for one may seem totally irrational to another specifically because of the intricacy of belief and the presumed facts each one of us deems "properly basic".

He correctly points out the issue with the modern atheist appeal to heinous acts committed by those who profess religious belief. He states: 

isn’t it the actions of these people that are vile, not the religion itself? Unless your attitude is: “Those priests are a disgrace. They sexually abused children, covered it up for decades, then to top it all they give out stupid wafers in their service. How sick can you get”?

This point rather hits at the heart of the issue. Richard Dawkins has argued the heinous acts of several atheist dictators had nothing to do with their atheism whilst simultaneously wishing to maintain the heinous acts committed by Roman Catholic priests were somehow prompted by their religion. For many of the New Atheists (cf. Christopher Hitchens' God is not great: how religion poisons everything), the attitude is precisely the one stated above.

Nevertheless, it is nice to see Steel observe "I spent a morning at a Sikh temple recently, where 4,000 free meals are provided for anyone who wants one" whilst pointedly remarking "if you turned up at Richard Dawkins’s house with 4,000 mates, I’d be surprised if you all got a meal out of him".

For all that, Steel's piece is to be commended. It is funny, endearing and recognises the truth that religious belief - in fact, belief of any sort - is more complex than simply assenting to a series of ideas. Somebody once remarked (and I forget who it was now, so I can't honestly credit it), the means by which we reach conclusions is a convoluted and intricate exercise influenced by many things. Reason is merely the device we use to convince others we are right. Often, we expect others to conclude  by reason alone when, for most of us, it is but one of many tools we use to reach conclusions.

Here, however, is where I think Steel is a little unfair. The very title of his piece presumes that the religious are scientifically deficient. Equally fallaciously, he tacitly gives rise to the view that science is the primary form of knowledge (as opposed to other areas that handle issues science cannot and upon which science is often based e.g. philosophy). For all his denunciation of Richard Dawkins, his concern is more that Dawkins patronises believers, has a problem in principle with all religion and clearly ignores the good that many religious believers do. This rather conveys the belief that atheists are the guardians of science and reason whilst believers - who should nevertheless be entertained in their fanciful views so long as they do no harm to others - are not. Steel's concern is not the specific beliefs of Richard Dawkins but the patronising and/or aggressive rhetoric he employs. It is not his views with which Steel finds a problem but the tactics Dawkins uses to convey them. Ironically, this is rather patronising.

Steel says he finds the "contradictions of religion" confusing - as well he should! The example he cites of a guru continuing to fight a battle having had his head chopped off plays directly to our Western, post-enlightenment sense of that which is "properly basic". Of course that could never happen, says Steel, but look at the good these Sikhs are doing in a community setting, offering meals to people. It's the as-long-as-they're-doing-no-harm form of patronage; "yes, their views are ridiculous but look at the lovely things they do as a result"! At least Dawkins doesn't patronise like that.

It is true that belief is a complex thing and represents more than mere assent to a set of ideas. It is also true that reason is but one of many tools we use to reach conclusions. However, that does not mean religion itself is baseless and one must park one's reason to be a believer. I equally don't believe a guru fought a battle after his head was chopped off. That's not because I simply dismiss it as something that could never happen (a position Philosophical Naturalism and Atheism are forced to hold). Rather, if there are good grounds to believe in a God (and, without rehearsing them all here, I believe there are) all sorts of possibilities are open to us. Nevertheless, I don't believe this did happen because of the positive reasons to reject it (again, all of which I will not rehearse here).

By contrast, Christianity is not a religion beget by presumption and story-telling. Scripture itself records God inviting us to "reason together" and the very basis of Christianity - the spark that ignited it as a movement - was based on the evidence for the resurrected Jesus Christ. Throughout the New Testament, the Apostles argued that their hope - and the whole basis of Christianity - stood or fell on the proof of that one fact. Establish the resurrection as a fraud (as many have tried) and Christianity dies overnight. Establish it as fact (in my view, the historical facts are extraordinarily compelling) and Christianity is based on far more than presumption. It compels us reasonably, philosophically and historically.

Where Steel is undoubtedly correct, it will take much more than atheists banging on about science to convince religious believers to abandon their beliefs. Interestingly, Christians recognised this fact long ago. Whatever the compelling reasons for Christianity (and I believe there are many), Blaise Pascal noted nearly 400 years ago, in his Pensées, that reason was but one step (and not even the first one) on the road to belief. No doubt this is where New Atheism is going wrong, merely "banging on about science", but is probably where a lot of modern evangelical Christianity gets it wrong too.

Some thoughts on the Strange Fire conference

First off, let me share four blog posts, from across the spectrum, outlining differing views of the Strange Fire conference (some written before, during and after events):

1. Adrian Warnock: 'Why cessationists are wrong about prophecy'
2. Thabiti Anyabwile: 'Why you should care about the "Strange Fire" discussion'
3. Tim Challies: 'Strange Fire Conference: MacArthur's appeal to his continuationist friends'
4. Gary Benfold: 'Strange Fire...'

Much has already been said beyond the views expressed in the above articles so I will limit myself to the following points:

1. John MacArthur is absolutely entitled to hold a conference offering a reasoned defence of the cessationist position. Charismatic believers have run conferences promoting charismatic theology so promotion of the cessationist view in this way represents no problem
2. The issue for many is that Strange Fire appears to go beyond a legitimate defence of cessationism. Instead, it leans heavily toward attacking all views that are not out and out cessationist and denounces as outside the faith those who are evidently brothers based on a secondary issue that is not a marker of orthodoxy
3. Interestingly, John MacArthur - in writing his recent book and taking this approach - now aligns himself with the ultra-separatism of Peter Masters and the Metropolitan Tabernacle. Not only is the "Charismatic Movement" one of Peter Masters' favourite hobby-horses but he also seems to delight in denouncing as unbelievers those who adhere to gospel truth based on a matter of secondary import (significant though that issue may be in practice). MacArthur now similarly dismisses gospel-believing brethren in this same shabby way
4. MacArthur has defended himself against the charges of being unloving, lacking care about offending people and of attacking brothers by reiterating his denunciation of many brethren, claiming that he cares more about offending God than offending people and stating the most loving thing to do for someone is tell the them the truth. Frankly, this is the sort of rhetoric people usually employ when they are being both unnecessarily aggressive and unkind. Many is the person that claims they are "persecuted" for Christ's sake when, in reality, they are facing difficulty because they themselves have been unnecessarily offensive!
5. The conference clearly lacks nuance. The idea that cessationism can be pitted against continuationism in such stark terms is a false dichotomy. The range of views outside absolute, unerring cessationism are plethora (even more than the typically cited 4 broad positions outlined in Grudem's book 'Are Miraculous Gifts for Today?').
6. Beyond merely lacking nuance, the conference lumps all continuationists together and argues the "more reasonable" end of the spectrum lends credence to the "extreme lunatic fringe". It is wholly unreasonable to suggest, as MacArthur has done, that individuals such as John Piper and Don Carson lend an air of credibility to those who peddle a health and wealth gospel. These men have actively denounced such false teaching unequivocally and regularly (see here, for example). It is nothing short of slanderous to lump them in the same category as Roman Catholics and those who deny the Trinity.
7. The conference singularly fails to accept that many out and out Charismatics, as well as those who would consider themselves continuationist without labeling themselves Charismatic, are as opposed to the excess and abuse of Charismata as MacArthur claims to be. MacArthur suggests it is only the cessationist who truly decries such abuse of scripture when, indeed, all those who are genuinely spiritual find such things equally repellent.

Giles Fraser hates Jesus

Not content with attacking "Evangelical Cheesus", and despising John for being "antisemitic", Giles Fraser has now decided he just hates Jesus. Full stop. To quote the man directly: "I hate Jesus". He comments:

How could Christians not hate Jesus, on some level? Much of his teaching is about the renunciation of desire. And on Good Friday he suffers the most excruciating torture and execution – something he had previously told his followers that they too must be prepared to emulate: "Take up your cross and follow me."

He tries to argue that "Jesus can absorb our hatred and is not destroyed by it. That, in part, is what is going on as he is mocked and spat upon. Mocked by the very same people that once welcomed him with open arms".

Fraser is simply speaking against the fact. Jesus was mocked by those that rejected him. The Roman Soldiers, bar one, ridicule Jesus and the religious leaders - who never followed him and were so envious of his following they sought to destroy him - mocked him alongside. No doubt Fraser is really thinking of the crowd, those that previously followed Jesus from town to town, who now turn on him. However, they rejected Jesus too - he wasn't the messiah they had hoped would save them from the Roman occupation. Indeed, the thief on the cross was saved when he stopped mocking Jesus, treating him with contempt, and accepted who he really was.

Fraser really seems to be saying that he hates Jesus because Jesus demands that he change. Jesus demands he give up sinful desires and turn in repentance to him. In Fraser's own words, he doesn't want to "be crucified". 

As I commented here, Fraser has a real problem when faced with the words of 1 John. 1 John 5:3 says "For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome". Even Jesus says, in John 14:15, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments". Whilst still representing a problem for Fraser, his words at least accord with 1 John and those of Jesus himself. Fraser's refusal to change, and hatred of Jesus for even asking him to, at least harmonise with the words of scripture. 

The problem Fraser is faced with is the same issue he raises at the beginning of his article:

I hate Jesus. Yes, you read that right. I do. I hate Jesus. Three little words that you may think it absolutely impossible for any Christian to say, especially just before Easter Sunday. Well, I disagree..

I do think such words are impossible for a Christian. Jesus and John both seem to find them impossible for the Christian too. I will let you draw your own conclusion as to what this means for Fraser.

Giles Fraser's 'Evangelical Cheesus' is not the Jesus of Evangelicals

Whilst I rarely agree with Giles Fraser, I have some sympathy with his view that bemoans, what he perceives to be, a certain form of Evangelicalism. He comments:

Jesus morphs into Cheesus – the es getting steadily elongated. Those who talk about Cheesus do so with a creepy sort of chummyiness. This is what evangelicals call "a personal relationship", by which they mean that Cheesus has become their boyfriend or best mate.

And when such people speak of Cheesus they have to wear that sickly smile too. It's that I-know-something-you-don't smile. Patronising, superior and faux caring all at the same time. And if you disagree with them they will pray for you. It makes you want to bang your head against a brick wall.

Certainly, there can be a tendency to over-emphasise Jesus, friend of sinners - with the emphasis on 'friend' - to the detriment of Jesus, the Son, God himself. Such a position can lead to an over familiar mateyness and cause us to forget entirely that Jesus Christ is Almighty God and should be approached and revered as such. 

However, let's not overlook two other possibilities explaining the existence, amongst Evangelicals, of those characterised by Fraser's description. It is entirely possible that such people were sickly, patronising, superior and faux-caring before they had any conversion experience. That they exhibit these character traits, only now expressing them through the words and phrases associated with theology and religious experience, does nothing suggest Evangelicalism 'creates' such people. Alternatively, these people may have simply misunderstood the New Testament writing or, whilst understanding, apply them in a rather blunt manner. Any sense in which a believers acts 'superior' is clearly antithetical to the New Testament writings and suggests the individual has not really understood the gospel itself, which makes clear none of us have any right to superiority.

However, Fraser is entirely wrong to equate, what he interprets as, "a creepy sort of chumminess" with the Evangelical claim to "a personal relationship". Evangelicalism at no point proclaims that Jesus will become your "boyfriend or best mate". Indeed, the relationship into which one is brought - or, more accurately, bought - isn't entirely comparable to friends (who calls their best mate "Lord"?!). Yes, we are reconciled to God through the cross - simply stated we are 'friends again' with Him - but the relationship between man and God is one of Father-Son than co-equal mates. We are adopted into the Son's sonship, thus inheriting that which is the Son's because we are in the Son. That is a far cry from gaining fringe benefits because, when the Son comes into his inheritance, we're his mates so we benefit by association. In fact, the relationship between Christ and the believer is rarely, if ever, cast as the relationship between mates in the New Testament.

Fraser again touches on a grain of truth whilst simultaneously missing the point when he states:

Cheesus cannot deal with tragedy. Which is why, for the worst sort of Cheesus-loving evangelicals, the cross of Good Friday is actually celebrated as a moment of triumph. This is theologically illiterate. Next week, in the run up to Easter,Christianity goes into existential crisis. It fails.

The fact that this is not the end of the story does not take away from the fact that tragedy will always be folded into the experience of faith. Even the resurrected Jesus bears the scars of his suffering. A man who has been through something like that will never smile that cheesy smile or think of faith as some sunny suburban upspeak. 

Certainly a fact often overlooked in Evangelical circles is that the cross was a complete disaster for Jesus' disciples. As William Lane Craig comments: 

Even the most skeptical scholars admit that the earliest disciples at least believed that Jesus had been raised from the dead. Indeed, they pinned nearly everything on it. Without belief in Jesus' resurrection, Christianity could never have come into being. The crucifixion would have remained the final tragedy in the hapless life of Jesus.

There was nothing in Jewish writing or culture that would have expected the resurrection of the Messiah. Although the concept of resurrection did exist, the Jewish view differs in two fundamental ways compared to Jesus' resurrection: "In Jewish thought the resurrection always (1) occurred after the end of the world, not within history, and (2) concerned all the people, not just an isolated individual. In contradistinction to this, Jesus' resurrection was both within history and of one individual person".

...confronted with Jesus' crucifixion and death, [the disciples] would only have looked forward to the resurrection at the final day and would probably have carefully kept their master's tomb as a shrine, where his bones could reside until the resurrection. They would not have come up with the idea that he was already raised.

As for the second point, the Jewish idea of resurrection was always of a general resurrection of the dead, not an isolated individual. It was the people, or mankind as a whole, that God raised up in the resurrection. But in Jesus' resurrection, God raised just a single man. Moreover, there was no concept of the people's resurrection in some way hinging on the Messiah's resurrection. That was just totally unknown. Yet that is precisely what is said to have occurred in Jesus' case. Ulrich Wilckens, another prominent German New Testament critic, explains: "For nowhere do the Jewish texts speak of the resurrection of an individual which already occurs before the resurrection of the righteous in the end time and is differentiated and separate from it; nowhere does the participation of the righteous in the salvation at the end time depend on their belonging to the Messiah, who was raised in advance as the 'First of those raised by God.' (1 Corinthians 15:20)"

It is therefore evident that the disciples would not as a result of Jewish influences or background have come up with the idea that Jesus alone had been raised from the dead. They would wait with longing for that day when He and all the righteous of Israel would be raised by God to glory.

Fraser would be correct if he were merely talking about the disciples' view of the cross prior to the resurrection event. To them, at that time, this was disasterous. However, Fraser is entirely wrong to suggest that the cross, "celebrated as a moment of triumph", is "theologically illiterate". He claims the end of the story does nothing to change this fact. However, the cross is a moment of triumph specifically because it is not the end of the story. Indeed, this is why Paul and the other apostles pinned their entire claim of Christian faith on the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

This is why Fraser is so wrong about the Evangelical view of loss and disaster. Evangelicals are not convinced that a sickly smile or patronising platitude does anything to resolve a tragedy.  It is specifically because of the cross that the Evangelical view of tragedy is wider than that proposed by Fraser. Evangelicals see life beyond the here and now, in the presence of God, because of the work of Jesus on the cross. This doesn't mean "sunny suburban upspeak" solves all the world's ills; Evangelicals are perfectly aware of Rom 12:14-15. What it mean is life and hope beyond the problems of here and now. Such problems are not solved by that knowledge but we are given hope beyond them rather than an existence ending with them.

Fraser's 'Evangelical Cheesus' is not the Jesus of Evangelicals. His scornful view of a relationship with God cannot contend with 1 John 1 (esp. 1 Jn 1:3). His defeatist, pessimistic view of the cross is equally problematic when faced with these same verses (especially 1 Jn 1:7). John seems convinced that the cross was no disaster and through it we can have a relationship with Christ. Evangelicals tend to agree with John.