Where have all the doulos gone?

Ever heard the word “doulos” before?  In my experience not many people have.  And not only is the word unknown, but even when it is acknowledged it is quickly dismissed in the Western church. 
This happens too frequently in my own life, so what follows is for my own reminding as well.

Let me say that again, lest anyone think what follows is finger-pointing.

What I’m about to blog I need to hear as much if not more than anyone who may read this.

Since my thoughts became lengthy, I decided to split this over 3 posts.

PART I:  Doulos?

Doulos (δοῦλος): The term appears in the New Testament about 130 times, almost always in observance of the relationship Christians have to our God. 

In fact, the authors Paul, Peter, Jude, James and John each call himself the Lord’s ‘doulos’ at the outset of his letters.  (These are all the New Testament writers after the Gospels and Acts)

Jesus uses the term of His followers in the book of Revelation 10 times, and in both Psalm 40 and Hebrews 10 the prophecies given through the Spirit and spoken by David and Christ about the Christ indicate that He viewed Himself as a ‘doulos’ of God.

So what is a ‘doulos’?

The term hearkens back to Exodus 21:1-6

If you’re not familiar with the term, here’s a blurb I found in an online forum that was succinct:

“doulos and its cognates contains[sic] various nuances which range from what in English might be classified anything from a slave to a servant. When it is considered, for example, that a doulos was sometimes put in a position of responsibility over the affairs of the master's household, it is difficult to conceive of the person as a slave in the proper sense of the term.  OTOH [On the other hand], a doulos works without profit or thanks, so he is more akin to a slave in that sense.”

Even more helpful to me is this:

“doulos is a Greek word that means bondservant. In the New Testament times, it was not uncommon for a freed slave to voluntarily re-enter servitude to a master whom he loved. This servitude was called bondservice. Only a freed slave could be a bondservant and once he had chosen to become one, he could never be freed again. Neither could he be bought or sold, and he served his chosen master until death. When a man chose bondservice, he was taken to the front entrance of the house, and his right ear was laid against the doorpost. A nail was driven through his ear and a golden earring was placed in it. This golden earring was a symbol to all, of the servants choice and of his immunity to being made merchandise. Paul and Peter spoke of themselves as being bondservants to Christ. There is a service whose true name is freedom. (read I Peter 2:15-17; Luke 12:37)."

taken from Kemper Crabb's liner notes in the album The Vigil

The doulos recognizes the freedom he is given and the price for that freedom. In love, he willingly surrenders the rest of his life to his master’s service, and this service is not oppressive.  As Crabb so wonderfully says above – “there is a service whose true name is freedom.”

But what does it mean to be a “doulos” today? 
I’ll explore that over the next 2 posts:  The call to be counted as a doulos both externally and internally.


preview of part II: "...in America we want the easy ‘ticket to heaven.’  We want to live without the ‘bonds’ of ‘servitude.’  And we certainly don’t want anyone to suggest that the doulos mindset is a normal and expected part of our faith.  We want to hear a Gospel heavy on ‘grace alone’ – whose end effect is that we should do nothing in service to Christ, lest that be ‘legalism’ or ‘works salvation.’ "

The awfulness of today

If you want to truly emote with this blog entry, please play this song as you read on
The lyrics don’t match the blog, but the sobriety of the music fits perfectly.  

Whoever says that “death is a natural part of life” has neither read the beginning, nor the end of the Book.

This truth came crashing home today somewhat unexpectedly.

Death was never part of the Plan, which is why it is so gut-wrenching. – even when it is just the death of the family dog.  Human life is exponentially of more value than animals, but grief is powerful in both cases.

 We never expected our dog to live forever, but her passing was sooner than any of us wished.

We got Tilly 3 years ago from a shelter in Madison, being told she was 3 years old.

She was quiet and shy.  I think I can count on my hands the number of times we heard her bark.  It was so rare that it was like a surprising treat.  We even tried to bribe her to ‘speak’ for treats.

She was never aggressive.  She was always tender toward our kids and put up with their playfulness.

Tilly was the only dog I have ever known or seen to actually “smile” when she was enjoying being pet.  You had to see it to know it was not our imagination.  Our smiling dog.  Our crazy Matilda Brown who would go racing from one end of the house to the other, jumping up on and pivoting on our son’s bed all in one move, and then racing back

She sure had her eccentricities (she was afraid of most men, storms and cameras), but she was the sweetest mutt.  She could hear the smoked string cheese bag being opened from a mile away, and would trot over, not to be denied.

Death is awful.  This was never meant to be.

We learned yesterday that due to her age (much older than we thought) and health problems that she should probably be put down.  We told our kids and then called a former vet friend, asking him to euthanize her for us, and tried to explain to the kids that this was best for Tilly.

‘Euthanize’ – such an eloquent word for such a miserable deed.

I went out back and tried to pick a spot I thought she would like; an area where she liked to chase the rabbits and deer from our property.

Digging a grave sucks, especially when its occupant meets you at the door with a wagging tail.

Today our friend stopped by with his vet kit while the kids were gone.

“I should warn you,” I told him, “I’m probably going to cry.”

“That’s OK,” he said, “I probably will too.”

Her passing was peaceful and at home – not in the cold, sterile, unfamiliar environs of our regular vet.

After our friend left, I wrapped Tilly in a sheet and my wife and I laid her to rest in the woods beyond our backyard.

Filling in a grave sucks – especially when your just-passed friend’s body still carries warmth.   The shovel is heavier than mere wood and metal.

I sobbed more than I thought I would today, and the grief continues to well up out of the blue.

To be certain, this is nowhere near as painful as our miscarriage of a few years back, but it still is wrecking my soul, because death is like that.  It is not the way it should be.

After work, our family wrote memorial stones for Tilly and laid them on her fresh grave along with flowers, her collar and tags nailed to the tree above the site.  We thanked God for such a good dog and we cried.  Rachel read a beautiful poem she wrote for Tilly. 

Much of the rest of the day seems like just ‘getting through the day.’  My daughter asked later on, “she’s not coming back?”

Death is a heartless thief.

If evolution is reality, then grief has no part of death, because we, and all things, are mere atoms and crude matter and energy haphazardly colliding.

But death is agonizing (even the death of animals)

It is... because an amazingly wonderful Creator made all things good and made them lasting.  His creation – mankind - rebelled and brought this agony – this death – through sin.  The fracture in our hearts we experience at a death echoes the fracture of all creation because of sin. 

But this perfect God made a way for humans to not fear death, or the grave.  The Bible is silent on the fate of animals.  They are not image bearers and do not have souls.  BUT, I would not be surprised that in His grace and mercy and His delight in delighting us with unexpected joys, that Jesus will allow us to reunite with passed on pets.

And in the end, God tells us He will make all things new and that there is a place beyond sorrow and pain, where life will never end, because death is defeated and the grave has no sting.

I really miss my furry friend Tilly, and my heart is still breaking today.  I’m still mourning and weeping over the missing dog in our house and the missing dog in my heart.

There is a Certain Beauty

A poem I wrote back in 2002...

There is a certain beauty
     in the passing away of things

A peaceful dignity

As Summer begets Autumn
     and Autumn begets Winter.


For though it seems that death has come
    the reality of Spring lies waiting.

So the friendship
    and the fear of God
        give eternal birth
            to Hope

There is a certain beauty in the death to self and sin.

And though the days grow dark and long
     and silent lies the Cold

Yet the translation of mortal to immortal is sure

Sin's defeat complete in that moment
      as holiness shall reign.

Corruptible discarded
      eradicated stains

And so the Spring will usher in
      new life
            new birth
                   release
                         for those who trust

Just demands satisfied
         unmerited favor granted
                 mercy covering contrite, humble souls

So victory and celebration without end
begin
at Earth's finish line

For there the Savior calls His own
      The Father holds His children

There is a certain beauty in the passing away of things.

(2002)