The Fivefold Path of Reconciliation: Apo-Dia-Kata-Apokata-allássō. Part 1: The external “change” engineered by fallen man failing in its ultimate ends while working to effect glorious transformation

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Introduction:

Reconciliation: The Questions

If we were only to examine reconciliation from the etymology of its Latin roots, re + conciliare, we would understand it to mean ‘to bring back together again.’ We would thus conclude that its primary meaning is something to the effect of two people who were once at variance now coming together. Good. Excellent. Done.

Yet does it mean more?

At least in the ways it is expressed in the NT?

While the above definition could gives us a basic idea of its meaning, we will hopefully find in this series of word studies, that such a definition in no way conveys the mysterious depths of is actual meaning—what is, we might say, its living meaning.

For the static concept simply cannot come close to answering the myriad of questions that may come to us in the our actual experience of seeking reconciliation. Such questions will inevitably begin to arise such as,

What does it actually mean to ‘bring back together’?

Does it just happen?

Do we have to change in some way?

And if so, what do we have to change?

Or, who has to change? Us or the other? Both?

What, basically, do we have to actually do to bring about such change?

Is there some sort of method or technique we can follow that will ensure that it happens? Or is it a process, a pathway that one must follow, knowing that we are, in a certain real sense, powerless to effect the genuine change, the real coming back together with another that we so desire? And if we are powerless, the question still remains, How, then does it happen?

These word studies will, by no means, presume to answer any or all of these questions. They will simply attempt a brief introductory synthesis of the Greek words involved and the ways that are put together to express the varying dimensions of this pathway to reconciliation. As such, the goal will be to challenge, at least a bit, some of our more static concepts in the hopes that they may be opened up beyond the one dimensional view to a more comprehensive, integrated understanding of what the Scripture are seeking to set out for us as we walk, as we stumble, down this path.

Reconciliation: The root verb, allássō

The starting point for a basic apprehension of its meaning is centered in the Greek verbal root, allássō, which means “to change.” And so we are aware, this verb is itself based on the noun, allos, which means “the other.” That is to say, the Scripture bases the reality of reconciliation on the fact that change is actually possible, not only in regards to ourselves but also in relation to the other. As a personal aside, I remember a lecture at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, where the chief global research on behavioral change in regards to HIV prevention started his talk by saying,

“We will go through lots of studies and examine lots of data, but so that you know from the very beginning, there is absolutely nothing we have found that actually works to prevent the transmission of HIV.”

Well, if we were to project this nothing-works-and-people-can’t-really-change mentality onto medicine in regards to chronic illness in general, we would probably have to stop practicing altogether. For even if we have access to all the “best” and “newest” treatments, we still have to apply them in the real and particular dimensions of each patient’s complex life in order for them to take effect and “work.” If we can’t effectively work together with the “other” (allos) to accomplish this, what’s the point of practicing?

And then to move way beyond medicine, if we believe that people can’t really change, what are we to do when we inevitably encounter in ourselves and our our families, churches, communities very real spiritual maladies that cause breaks and divisions? If we can’t change and the other can’t do so either, what will actually work to bring restoration and reconciliation?

This (and the next) word study will examine this answer from the side of This Fallen Age, where the answer to how one effects change resides in the realm of man-centered, manipulated control.

The prepositions

In the later studies, we will examine the three key prepositions that are added to allássō to express the varying dimensions of this pathway: dia (‘through’); apo (‘away from’); and kata (‘thoroughly and completely’). And what we will hopefully find when these particular combinations are taken together as a whole, is a very real path opened up before us towards genuine moment-by-moment reconciliation. That is, if the Spirit Himself, spoken of in our creeds as the “Lord and Giver of Life,” truly acts in us to renew our lives before God and one another to make change possible, in Bonhoeffer’s language, “through and in Christ”. And, as is most typically the case in the NT (what has been called “the bad news of the good news”), this pathway will not be for us a “broad and easy way” (πλατεῖα ἡ πύλη καὶ εὐρύχωρος ἡ ὁδὸς), but rather a “hard and narrow (literally ‘having suffered’) path” (στενὴ ἡ πύλη καὶ τεθλιμμένη [from thlibō, thlipsis] ἡ ὁδὸς, Mt 7:13-14). Yet this harder path—even more, this path of suffering—will, according to Jesus’ own words, ultimately “lead unto life” (ἡ ἀπάγουσα εἰς τὴν ζωήν,). As such, it can be the only genuine path for us to follow.

The first of five words

I. Allássō (ἀλλάσσω)

Summary Synthesis

As noted above, this is a simple Greek verb that express the reality of change and, as such, underlies the concept of reconciliation in the NT. It occurs six times and, like many verbs in the Scriptures, expresses both the positive and negative dimensions that are operating at the very same time in our lives. As a reflection of the state of the heart, the actions that follow, therefore, lead either to glorious transformation unto the image of the crucified and risen Christ, or the disintegration of the human personality which is progressively given over to the manipulation, deceit and violent cunning of the fallen mind (see the second post).

Detailed Analysis

Stephen, the blasphemer

The root verb is not found in the Gospels, but first comes to us in the Acts of the Apostles in the testimony, the witness—the martyría—of Stephen. He is presented to us immediately as “a man full of grace (plērēs charitos) and the Holy Spirit” whose testimony in Jerusalem was confirmed by the “wonders and great signs” he performed. And as can often be the case, there arose against him resistance not from outside, but from within the church. As this faction, however, was unable to resist the “wisdom and the Spirit by which he spoke,” they, then, resorted to methods of deception. They first method was to secretly induce (ὑπέβαλον [hyperballon]) men to accuse him of “blasphemy against Moses and God” (6:11). Yet they found that their accusations were not, in and of themselves, enough to discredit his life and witness. As such, they next step was to “stir up the people, the elders, and the scribes to seize him and bring him to the council” (6:12), where they “set up false witnesses” that accused him of blasphemy. They claim,

This man does not cease to speak blasphemous words against this holy place and the law;

Note the escalation:

First, they make the accusation that Stephen is a blasphemer…but it’s not enough…so they add that his words amount are blasphemy both against Moses and God. Then (as if that were not sufficient in and of itself for a swift conviction), they add that he is speaks blasphemy against the Temple and the Law, claiming that he carried forward Jesus’ own threats to “destroy” the Temple and, in the first use of allássō, is threatening to “change (allasei) the customs which Moses delivered to us” (6:13-14).

The predetermined verdict—a miscarriage of justice or eternal triumph?

And yet what is the result of their dissimulation?

The answer, we find, operates simultaneously on two levels. On the first level, the fallen mind succeeds in controlling the external events. They arrange a kangaroo court with the judge and jury manipulated against Stephen so as to ensure a guilty verdict of the highest treason. Yet, in the very midst of their engineered control of events, even in the moment of their seeming triumph, another level of operation begins to becomes apparent. And we begin to see that these operations, which operate on a completely different, higher level, will function completely beyond their sphere of power and control:

And all who sat in the council, looking steadfastly at him, saw his face as the face of an angel (6:15).

The deceptive and calculatingly, cruel methods used to destroy the character of Stephen become for him the very means of his greater sanctification. As he willingly and faithfully enters into this providential testing, releasing all pathways of manipulated control and instead bearing witness to this deeper level totally beyond their agency (7:2-53), the power of eternal glory breaks into the present moment, transforming it after the pattern of Jesus Christ. On one level, therefore, there is a horror of injustice; on another, the reality of glorious transformation. On one level, false accusation and murder; on another, the eternal working of divine grace. The effect of one will be death; the other life.

And thus, Stephen’s courageous and fearless testimony literally “opens the heavens” themselves, tearing open the veil between this world and the eternal realm in such a way that the life-giving power of the Kingdom of God comes down. And even though Stephen will endure bitter suffering and a violent death, his witness will, nonetheless, change the depths of his own person in conformation to his crucified Savior:

And they stoned Stephen as he was calling on God and saying, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit” (7:59-> Lk 23:46).

Which testimony will change the face of the ancient world…

The condemnation and the conformation

And how, then, does Stephen die?

In vindictive, righteous anger?

No. There is none of that.

He stands in the stillness of prayer, interceding not merely for himself, but much more, for those in the very act of murdering him.

Then he knelt down and cried out with a loud voice, “Lord, do not charge them with this sin” (7:60-> Lk 23:34). And when he had said this, he fell asleep.

And though we will not track the seismic effects of the seed of his fatal testimony in relation to the growth of the NT Church, we will only draw our attention to the preceding verses without any comment…given who was there and what later happened to him…

Then they cried out with a loud voice, stopped their ears, and ran at him with one accord; and they cast him out of the city and stoned him.

And the witnesses laid down their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul (7:58-59).

Stephen’s self-giving in the inner stillness of intercession opens Heaven itself such that the realities of the eternal Kingdom break down into this fallen realm of manipulated control, bringing a change far more powerful.

It is a paradox of paradoxes: That which destroys the life of a saint becomes, at the very same time, the engine for his eternal, glorious transformation into the image of His Suffering Savior.

And this pathway is the pathway offered to us, if we will but receive it.

 And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony,

And they loved not their lives even unto death (Rev 12:11).

This dual transformation will be explicated further in the next post, this time examining a different, we might say, diabolical transformation—this one will also be eternal yet not glorious, bringing not life but the progressive dissolution of our personalities until in the end, we become “foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless.”