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grace of place in redemptive history

The Grace of Place in Redemptive History

By Todd Miles

I love living in America in the 21st century. The list of reasons runs from the profound to the banal and includes such things as automobiles, internet, supermarkets (and convenience stores), golf courses, little-league baseball, communication technology, ice cream, and not dying from infection if I accidentally cut myself or catch a cold.

But when I am thinking rightly, I am overcome with a profound sense of gratitude to the Lord when I consider that though I had no influence or control whatsoever on the attendant circumstances of my birth (when, where, or to whom I was born), I find myself having been born to Christian parents who first taught me the gospel, living at a time in redemptive history where I can look back on the cross of Christ and anticipate his return, where the message of the gospel is easily accessible, and where I can gather with the Lord’s people in safety to worship according to the dictates of God’s Holy Word. We ought not to underestimate the grace of place in redemptive history.

Why might place in redemptive history be a gift? Because redemptive history is not even. Though God sovereignly directs history toward his appointed ends according to his appointed means for his good pleasure, it is readily apparent, through simple reflection upon the times or even a cursory reading of the story of Scripture, that the experience of God’s people is not uniform. Without denying the Lord’s faithfulness to his children, it is obvious that God’s people enjoy differing levels of blessing, privilege, need, provision, persecution, and protection, at different times and in different places,

Jesus affirmed as much. When questioned by John’s disciples in Matthew 11 as to whether he was the Christ, Jesus pointed to the prophecies that were being fulfilled in him as affirmation. Jesus’ disciples were privileged to witness that which the faithful prophets yearned to see. Then in Matthew 11:11 Jesus claimed that the least in the Kingdom were greater than John who was as great as anyone born of woman up to that time. Clearly, to live after the inauguration of the Kingdom is to enjoy greater privilege than those who lived prior to its inauguration. Similarly, Jesus argued that his disciples would be better off after the outpouring of the Spirit than they were at that particular time (John 16:7; cf. Num 11:29; Ezek 36:26-27; John 7:39). The same can be said for living under the New Covenant as opposed to the Old Covenant (see Paul’s arguments in 2 Cor 3).

Clearly, there is no greater gift, no greater grace given, than salvation in and through Jesus Christ. To the Christian, this is a cherished and obvious truth, but it still must be stated, believed, meditated upon, and proclaimed. Were God to do nothing else whatsoever on behalf of rebellious sinners than reconcile them to himself; if the Lord were to merely justify the wayward one (as if “merely” and “justify” could ever be used consecutively without blushing) and stop there, He would still have demonstrated a love and compassion that transcends any act of love ever performed or even wished by humanity. It is the gospel that gives definition and expression to the very concept of grace.

But even after the first advent of Christ and the birth of the Church, things have not been and are not even for those who have been saved by Christ. Having recently read David Daniell’s William Tyndale: A Biography,[1] I have been reminded again of the grace of place in redemptive history. Daniell’s delightful biography of the great English Reformer and Translator, reaffirms to its readers that access to the Word of God is a gift of inestimable worth. And it is a gift that not all have enjoyed.

Daniell weaves explanation of Tyndale’s theology, writings, and peerless philosophy of translation, with the tumultuous history of the Reformation in England. At times, as I read the narrative of Tyndale’s life, I was dumbstruck when I considered the ease with which I often take for granted the simple reading of God’s Word and compared that to a time in the English-speaking West when being caught with the Scriptures in the English tongue would result in forfeiture of life and possessions. I found myself blushing as I remembered how frustrated I grew as I struggled to master the verb and noun forms in my study of Greek and Hebrew and then read of a time when the learning of the biblical languages was done at the risk of being labeled a heretic and an enemy of the church in England. I found myself ashamed when I considered the often-times “good enough” effort that I put into my lectures, writings, and sermons, compared to the cost that was paid by those who endeavored to put God’s Word into my hands.

As an English speaker living in the 21st century West, I have embarrassing access to God’s Word. I have not counted recently but I bet I could find at least thirty Bibles in various places in my home (I have a family of eight). A quick glance at the shelves in my seminary office reveals at least twenty Bibles, to say nothing of the electronic versions that are a mouse-click away. Daniell’s work on Tyndale reminded me of the cost paid by faithful men in centuries past that have yielded for me and my children opportunities to read, discuss, and meditate upon God’s word in our own vernacular. It produced in me a profound respect for Tyndale and the other Reformers, while engendering in me a reverence for the Lord who would raise up and sustain such faithful men so that Christ would be glorified and the Church would be blessed.

But Tyndale’s biography also reminded me of the words of Jesus: Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more” (Luke 12:48). The grace of place in redemptive history ought not to be underestimated. Nor should its implications be ignored. Do I cherish the Bible as I ought? Do I delight in meditating on the promises and commands of the Lord? Do I chaff under the conviction of the Spirit borne out of reading the words of Christ? Do I pray for our Bible translators, both in English and in languages where Scripture translation has yet to be completed? Am I committed to the dissemination, teaching, and proclamation of the Word of God as I ought? Even the occasion of having such questions come to mind is a gift from the Lord. For that, as for so much else, I am profoundly grateful.

[1] Daniell, David. William Tyndale: A Biography. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994.


Todd Miles (B.S., M.S. in Nuclear Engineering at Oregon State University; M.Div., Western Seminary; PhD in Systematic Theology, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is Associate Professor of Theology at Western Seminary in Portland, Oregon. Before his doctoral studies Miles was a Research Engineer at Pacific Northwest National Laboratory for ten years. Now Miles teaches Systematic Theology, Hermeneutics, and Ethics at Western Seminary. Miles is married to Camille and they have six children, Natalie, Ethan, Levi, Julius, Vicente, and Marcos. Miles serves as an elder at Hinson Memorial Baptist Church in Portland. Miles is the author of A God of Many Understandings? The Gospel and Theology of Religions (Nashville: B&H, 2010).

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