Nature of Redemption

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Kay and I have been to Las Vegas exactly once. It was a short trip, a few days in early May of 2003, the payoff for grinding through a time-share presentation. We had some uneasiness about the city – they say anyone who visits there should have return flights purchased before leaving home. Still, we couldn’t let the rumors go without investigation, so we put together a plan that included forays into the bright lights and clanging bells that give rise to the rumors.

     Access to gambling was everywhere, of course – even the fast-food joints and gas stations had slot machines. And we weren’t surprised by the drive-through wedding chapels, although the one with two lanes did stretch our understanding a bit. The replicas of worldwide landmarks are well publicized in the brochures, so we weren’t startled by walking from New York to Paris to Egypt in a matter of minutes. No, what rattled us was a collection of storefronts around the corner and less than a block off the famous Las Vegas Strip. Six businesses occupied separate but conjoined spaces, each the size of, say, Dunkin’ Donuts here in Oxford – and every one of them was a pawn shop.

     How could that business plan work? Surely there couldn’t be enough clients to keep six pawn shops going, so tightly clustered as they were. To the uninitiated, here’s a thumbnail version of how a pawn shop works. Somebody who needs cash fast takes an item of value to the broker, who assesses the item and advances a loan for that amount to the pawner… plus interest, of course. If the item is redeemed by the pawner within a certain amount of time, the transaction is over, and only the interest has changed hands. As you might imagine, the interest isn’t where the big money is for the broker – unredeemed items are sold to somebody else.

     In Las Vegas, the idea is for the pawner – let’s call him Jack – to parlay his newly acquired magic beans into a beanstalk by which he raids the giant’s castle. Alas, in Vegas, the fairy tales favor the giants. Hence, with a high concentration of Jacks and giants on hand, six pawn shops peacefully and prosperously coexist, each sharing a wall or two with shops that are doing the same thing at the same time.

     I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, Church, about the nature of redemption. We have some large topics coming up in the Three R’s series, and now is a good time to remember how, from among the three choices – Receive, Reject, Redeem – the third one keeps proving to be the best option. Receive and Reject are too easy and tend to cause more division, especially in this zone we’ve been studying where culture and Christian faith intersect. Redemption takes work, which is why it’s so appealing, since we know that no good thing comes without thoughtfulness and cost. Today’s touchup is to ensure we see redemption the same way our Redeemer does.  

     Not many realize it, but the second most merciful thing God has done in human history is block the way to the tree of life in the Garden of Eden (see Genesis 3:22-24). Rather than let the human race live forever in sin and shame and separation, he chose to initiate a long arc of redemption. The arc reaches its zenith where God does the single most merciful thing in human history, namely, sending his Son into the world to atone for all our sins. Jesus’ work on the cross – and busting out of the tomb! – has established the landing point of the arc, at which all the factors that brought about a need for redemption will be done away with. But what do you suppose caused God to work those earliest acts of redemption, and causes him still to guide the arc and draw more of humanity into its path? It could only be love for the redeemed.

     In our work as little-r redeemers, is there any reason to put redemptive effort into someone or something we don’t have a great deal of love for? Well, maybe. Not saying they’re good reasons, but I’ve caught myself trying to succeed at redemption where someone else failed, so I’d look like the better redeemer. I’ve also been known to throw redemptive effort into situations I didn’t yet have God-given wisdom for – you can easily imagine how those have turned out. At times, rather than waiting on the Lord, I’ve tried to start redemption for no better reason than nobody else had yet. Nope, not good reasons at all. Thankfully, those are in the minority – I bring them up for two reasons. First, to point out that deciding to Redeem will bring about enough work all on its own, without us looking for more than what’s assigned to each of us. And mostly, I bring them up to say that without having precisely the same motivation God has, even our best efforts at redemption will be at least slightly off the arc he has established. It can only be love for the redeemed.

     In Psalm 111, which is in our Bible reading plan this week, verse 9 says…

    He has sent redemption to his people;

   he has commanded his covenant forever.

   Holy and awesome is his name!

     Does anything strike you as unusual about the verse? Given that the psalm couldn’t have been written any less than 400 years before the birth of Christ in Bethlehem, doesn’t the past-tense “sent” sound odd? Isn’t the best of redemption still in the psalmist’s future?

     This verse is one of many fine Bible examples of future-perfect speech in the story of God and redemption – what he did before determines what happens now and guarantees what will happen later. It calls attention to three inseparable elements of reality: God has brought, God is bringing, and God will continue to bring redemption to his people until the full measure of redemption is accomplished.

     We live in the is… cooperating as much we’re able.

     In the power of the Holy Spirit, Christian, ask the Lord to lock you onto the objects of redemption assigned to you. Ask him to help you sort through the many and varied and worthwhile possibilities by giving you a can’t-turn-it-off love for those he’s chosen for you. Look for other Christians whose targets of love are something like yours. Redemption runs on love. Always has.

     Within the symbiotic relationship of gambling and pawn brokering, redemption is neither here nor there. Indeed, casinos can only stay in business as long as word doesn’t get out that gambling isn’t for the benefit of the gambler. And the broker makes out far better if redemption doesn’t happen at all. It’s a recipe for anything but.             

     Nothing personal toward the City of Las Vegas in general or pawn brokers in particular, but if you had mapped our travels for those three days in May of ’03, you would’ve found Kay and me more often in the desert, or up Mount Charleston, or over at Hoover Dam. In the city was a scouting mission, mainly, and when it was done we were glad for the experience – even more glad to get back among those who are the objects of our love and redemptive effort, and among whom we are the recipients of theirs.

  

Grace and Peace (holding fast to the arc of redemption),

 

John