The heated debate sparked by Rob Bell's latest book is beginning to simmer down and it's allowing many of us to take pause over the controversy the last several weeks. There were a few general themes that flowed from the debates, and most of them surrounded the concept of Hell itself, and whether a loving God could possibly send anyone to a place of such torment. Not surprisingly accusations shot back and forth about who is and who isn't a heretic, about how one's views are ancient, primitive, and completely out-of touch with reality, and so on and so forth. It occurred to me that there wasn't a very thorough explanation of God's forgiveness in just about any of my recent readings. To be fair, it was mentioned now and then, but it's something so central to the resolution of the whole Hell debate.
The concept of God's forgiveness is, lets be serious, pretty easy to swallow. It feels like it fits perfectly well in our supposedly enlightened and progressive western society. Forgiveness is good. There's just very little argument to be had. Yet, ironically, it's far more radical than Hell. So why is it that we have such a hard time with Hell, and so little debate about forgiveness? Even though we intrinsically know that forgiveness is all of grace, it's not hard to imagine that we may have become used to the idea to the point where we not only expect it, we feel we deserve it. (Romans 6:1). If Rob Bell's book is an example of making a difficult doctrine more palatable to our itchy ears, could it be that we do the same thing with forgiveness without realizing it? And if so, how has that happened? May I offer just a handful of reasons...
A high sense of self
A few posts ago I briefly alluded to how pop-psychology changes our ideas about guilt. Self-esteem has become highly popularized in the last 50 years and psychologists are only now beginning to realize some of the disastrous consequences it's yielded. Respected psychologists Roy Baumeister and Albert Ellis have written extensively on how self-esteem theories are not only illogical (being based on arbitrary premises) but have become self-defeating, and ultimately destructive. A high view of the self, according to proponents, will make you more successful and less likely to engage in harmful behaviour. Therefore, anything that hinders this high view of self (such as guilt) leads to poor performance, bad relationships, and so on.
The problem, of course, is that it promotes an unrealistic view of the self. To put it in psychological terms, it means you're delusional. It's a bit ironic, then, that what psychology once so fervently recommended was, in fact, a recipe for psychological disaster. But even if self-esteem is now becoming relegated to the fringes, the wake of its influence is still seen all over society. School teachers have been discouraged from disciplining their students for wrongdoing for fear of lowering anyone's self-esteem. Tragically, even youth pastors are often pressured into helping kids feel better about themselves irrespective of anything to do with a Christian sense of identity.
I'm not suggesting for a moment that the proper alternative is its polar opposite, or that any form of psychology is bad. What I am suggesting is more realistic examination of one's self, and self-esteem doctrine simply cannot deliver this. Our dignity and worth is found via a loving Creator God, and this in turn provides the basis for ethics and value. At the same time, having been called as stewards we also have a responsibility. When we are in error, we should not only be aware of it, but sanity dictates that we should have at least a sense of guilt.
Displacing Blame
For better or for worse, the penal system in western society has become increasingly therapeutic rather than atoning. Traditionally, a prison sentence was meant as a way for a person to pay his debt to society. But it's no secret that those who've spent time in prison are often the most likely to wind up right back in again. This has led many to change their mind about what a prison sentence should be. There's a new focus on rehabilitation for prisoners to help them work and live stable lives. This is not only a benefit to themselves but to society at large.
There's no reason to not welcome this, but at the same time it has also led to something interesting about the way we treat people's wrongdoings. In the traditional prison sentence, all blame rested on the criminal, and the punishment was considered appropriate to the crime. Now the blame is often shifted to somewhere else. A lack of education, poor family life, socio-economic status, etc. Studies show correlations between these situations and bad behaviour, so it's not entirely unreasonable to say they have a lot to do with it, but at the end of the day, only one person did the crime.
We've heard this excuse before. "It's not my fault, the devil made me do it." Yet it's just far too easy for us to pass the buck. Instead, Scripture demands that we own up to our misdeeds. And really, why should it not? In both an communal and individual sense, we've reaped what we've sown.
Tolerance, and the cost of our error
Even if we've come to accept a more realistic view of ourselves, and have learned to be honest about our own actions and responsibilities, it doesn't matter unless we begin to understand the magnitude of our sin. The heart of the hell debate centres not around God's love, but his justice. Again, intrinsically, we should already know this.
As a brief personal example, part of my job involves setting up quotes to do service and repair work in the fire protection recently. There's a lot riding on a quote because you need to ensure that it accurately reflects both the time and the material required to do the job properly. If the details aren't carefully thought out, you could set yourself up for a loss. That's exactly what I did recently, with the price I set being far too low.
Being that it's my first time, I was forgiven for making such a mistake. But even in forgiveness, the cost of my error still had to be eaten up. Forgiveness isn't just saying you ignore something, or try to forget it. That's unrealistic. In this simple but concrete example, whatever the difference is between the actual cost of the job and my poorly done estimate is counted as a loss against the company. Forgiveness costs something. It may be freely given, but it's not free.
The problem with my example, however, is that you can easily put a number to it. In the face of an infinitely Holy God, it's far too unfathomable. That's the whole point. People don't like hell because it's so unfathomably horrible, but it's no different than the cost of our sin. That's what makes hell a perfectly justifiable and appropriate punishment. And who are we to argue?
We don't understand the cost. In an age where the great modern dogma is tolerance, forgiveness and love have fallen under its umbrella. But the Biblical concepts of forgiveness and love are far different than the superficial idea of tolerance preached today. Today, being tolerant simply means have a much greater threshold for allowing bad behaviour, and not letting differences of opinions be a concern. To be fair, tolerance used to be something different. It used to mean allowing people freedom of expression while disagreeing wholeheartedly. These days it means ignoring the differences, and not even being allowed to criticize. (It's an entirely incoherent concept of intolerance). But you have to be intolerant, because some things are just plain stupid. Where tolerance brushes things under the rug, forgiveness and love demand our utmost.
Forgiveness
I'm not trying to make the world an enemy. Society has many great things to offer, and many things we can be thankful for. But, as with the conventional wisdom of any age, it often flies in the face of Biblical wisdom. But forgiveness? Forgiveness on a cosmic level? That is radical. I don't believe we will ever fully understand forgiveness in this age. While society influences us, the bottom line still ends up with us giving ourselves far too much credit, excusing ourselves for our own faults, and never understanding the extent of the damage we cause.
Hell? That's easy. Grace? That's far too great. It involves a God who suffers on our behalf. We owed Him nothing, but cost Him dearly. His happiness did not depend on our existence, but he revealed his Love for us anyway, through the death of his own Son. It's unfathomable, but it's the Truth.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Upcoming topics
Trying to keep up a blog among many other projects isn't easy. Perhaps that why I stopped my old blog 3 years ago. I had just forgotten about the difficulties of keeping something like this up. I'm beginning to think that those prolific bloggers out there are able to spend far more time writing than I can.
Anyway, I've had quite a number of positive comments through the grapevine. A lot of those comments have come from people I have a great deal of respect for, and it's been very re-affirming personally. If nothing else, I'd like to thank you for even bothering to read any of this. It's certainly helped motivate me to keep writing. So, to motivate you to actually keep reading, here is a short list of upcoming topics...
Forgiveness - a brief expose of how society makes it easier for us to accept a doctrine of forgiveness rather than hell, even though forgiveness is a far more radical concept than hell.
Knowing Truth - I take my lead on this topic from several people, including the well known German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, and the French deconstructionist/postmodern philosophers Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida. These important philosophers have articulated what many people today take as conventional wisdom, but have they serious implications, particularly for Christians. I promise to make it less boring than it sounds.
Christianity vs Secularism - sort of a spin-off of the above topics. I want to reveal how secularism (as a philosophy) has taken upon itself to be the arbiter of truth, attempting to relegate Christianity to the fringes of irrationality, and how secularism takes on the very characteristics it criticizes.
Anyway, I've had quite a number of positive comments through the grapevine. A lot of those comments have come from people I have a great deal of respect for, and it's been very re-affirming personally. If nothing else, I'd like to thank you for even bothering to read any of this. It's certainly helped motivate me to keep writing. So, to motivate you to actually keep reading, here is a short list of upcoming topics...
Forgiveness - a brief expose of how society makes it easier for us to accept a doctrine of forgiveness rather than hell, even though forgiveness is a far more radical concept than hell.
Knowing Truth - I take my lead on this topic from several people, including the well known German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, and the French deconstructionist/postmodern philosophers Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida. These important philosophers have articulated what many people today take as conventional wisdom, but have they serious implications, particularly for Christians. I promise to make it less boring than it sounds.
Christianity vs Secularism - sort of a spin-off of the above topics. I want to reveal how secularism (as a philosophy) has taken upon itself to be the arbiter of truth, attempting to relegate Christianity to the fringes of irrationality, and how secularism takes on the very characteristics it criticizes.
Monday, March 21, 2011
On Hell and C.S. Lewis
C.S. Lewis is probably most famously known for his book series "The Chronicles of Narnia," especially given its relative success in its recent theatrical adaptations. But C.S. Lewis has had a far greater influence on Christian thought than from just his allegorical Narnia series. A case in point, rather personally I might add, is from his book, "The Great Divorce." Although the title had originally been a response to a book called, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" by William Blake, it has since become a classic in helping many Christians understand the Biblical notions of salvation and damnation. Now, in particular, in the midst of a fury of debate thanks in part to Rob Bell's new book, "Love Wins," it serves as a great resource for those disillusioned by one of the most controversial doctrines of the Bible.
The thing about hell, like many other doctrines, is that on its face it seems entirely illogical, inhumane, and downright evil. That is, devoid of context, it looks incredibly cruel. It's a bit like trying to explain the doctrine of predestination. You can't simply start with predestination itself because the reason for its existence stems from other doctrines. The same is true for Christ's redemptive work on the cross. I've heard some people call it divine child-abuse, as though it were not only evil and unjust, but entirely unnecessary. The doctrine of hell is no different. The nature and reason for its existence is predicated on other realities.
Traditionally, the doctrine of hell refers to the eternal damnation for the reprobate. The keywords surrounding the controversy are eternal and reprobate. For the latter word, the debate usually entails the question of whether God would even send anyone to hell in the first place, if it even existed. The former is the question of whether hell is suffered for a finite period of time, and if those who suffer it are eventually annihilated or redeemed. There's also the question of the nature of hell itself. Is it a place where God's wrath is poured out on the unrepentant, or is it a situation that we create for ourselves when we don't order our lives as God would like? There are at least as many views of hell as their proponents, but they usually fit into one of a few streams of thought. And although they may be historical, that doesn't mean they're historically orthodox.
Today's cultural ideals of pluralism, tolerance, and even democracy and fairness, have caused an increasing number of people to question the legitimacy of Hell's orthodoxy. The topic of hell has been, well, hot for quite some time now. The controversy over Rob Bell's new book, "Love Wins" is indicative of current cultural climate. At any rate, whatever camp you find yourself in, what you believe about the Hell speaks volumes about what you believe about a great many other things, not least of which is your view of God's love. That's because the doctrine of hell is so inseparably intertwined with other doctrines. You cannot divorce it from God's other attributes.
Let's be serious about one thing though. The usual alternatives to hell (i.e. universalism, annihilationism) from as early as Origen or Gregory of Nyssa have never been accepted as orthodoxy. From the earliest of creeds, to Rome, to Eastern Orthodoxy, or to Protestant evangelicalism, these views of always been rejected outright. They've never passed the rigours of proper exegesis, and their arguments have always fallen flat, regardless of how attractive they may seem. To include them as sound doctrine doesn't mean expanding the borders of orthodoxy, it means moving them somewhere else entirely. More importantly, however, if you don't like the traditional view, your quarrel is not with the theologians who argue for it, but with Jesus himself. Jesus talked more frequently, more seriously, and more earnestly about hell than any other person in Scripture. And let's be honest, for someone who went through it, why wouldn't he?
My suspicion is that a lot of people cringe when they hear about hell not because it's in Scripture, but because people who endorse it have often abused it. The BBC once featured a documentary called, "The Problem of Evil" based on the works of the atheist and Oxford University biologist Richard Dawkins. In it was a segment that showed a pastor of a church deep in America's Bible-Belt who would put on plays about how awful hell was. The whole idea of it was to (quite literally) scare the hell out of the youth group kids so they would turn to Jesus. While people can come to a knowledge of Christ after learning about only about hell, a presentation like this served as nothing more than a blatant abuse of power. Kids would repent out of fear of reprisal, not out of a genuine understanding of God's infinite grace. Jesus is a sort of "fire insurance" if you will.
But for those who struggle with hell because it confronts them in Scripture, the first problem is its awful nature. As Tim Keller notes, the idea of hell-fire is probably metaphorical. That is to say, it's probably metaphorical for something far worse. We cannot escape the Biblical descriptions of hell. It really must be that bad, and for all we know, it could very well be even worse.
To some, however, this creates a problem of theodicy. How could a good and loving God possibly send someone to hell, if not for a short time, but eternally? But this isn't a question of God's love, it is a question of God's justice. If we believe God to be perfectly just, then it must follow that what befalls those going to Hell is befitting of the crimes committed. On the other hand, if a hell like this is simply too severe, then either our sin isn't that serious, or God is unjust. An unjust God is a God who, in the end, provides no hope for those who put their trust in him. In fact, he cannot be trusted in the first place. So it must be a question of the seriousness of sin.
Is sin so bad then? Imagine if Jesus himself made the slightest of slips on earth. Imagine if Jesus himself gave into the temptations of Satan. Imagine, if even for a moment, Jesus decided it wasn't worth the pain, everything that he had set out to do on Earth would've failed. At the end of the beatitudes, Jesus declares with finality, "...be perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect." That is the standard by which Jesus had to live. Thank the Lord, Jesus did. In the face of an infinitely good God then, the insult of sin is infinitely serious.
And why is it eternal? The answer to that is as simple as it is profound. It's because our very nature dictates it. Some people depict hell as being unjust, as though people in hell are clamouring to get out, begging for mercy while an insidious and sadistic God throws them back in. The problem is, they may look for an escape, but it's not out of a repentant heart. The story of the rich man and Lazarus depicts this better than any other story. The rich man has absolutely no acknowledgment of his sinfulness. Having entered hell, the sinning doesn't cease, it carries on like an addiction that endlessly spirals further and further into a bottomless pit. C.S. Lewis describes it this way...
Hell begins with a grumbling mood, always complaining, always blaming others . . . but you are still distinct from it. You may even criticize it in yourself and wish you could stop it. But there may come a day when you can no longer. Then there will be no you left to criticize the mood or even to enjoy it, but just the grumble itself, going on forever like a machine. It is not a question of God 'sending us' to hell. In each of us there is something growing, which will be Hell unless it is nipped in the bud.
(The Great Divorce)
So what about the charge that this somehow denies God's love? Hell does not, in any way, take away from God's love. On the contrary, it strengthens it because it demonstrates how deep and powerful it is. At the heart of Christianity is a God who suffers for us, and has become victorious for us. It's one thing for a man to go through hell deserving it. It's an entirely different matter when someone so obviously perfect goes through it voluntarily in place of the other. Perfect justice, then, does not demean love. It makes love all that much more profound. Both God's love and his justice are fully satisfied through Jesus Christ, and is continually satisfied for us.
Does God, in the end, save us all? The Bible clearly says no. But this too does not make God any less just, even if he had chosen just one person in all mankind to be saved. We all deserve to be wiped out in the flood, to never return to Eden, and be cast away. To us, it's not fair. But to be fair, God would just send us all to hell. It's the fact that he has mercy on any of us in the first place that's so amazing. So it's not a question of how God could send anyone to hell, but how he would bother to redeem anyone at all.
Again, as C.S. Lewis writes
In the long run the answer to all those who object to the doctrine of hell is itself a question: ‘What are you asking God to do?’ To wipe out their past sins and, at all costs, to give them a fresh start, smoothing every difficulty and offering every miraculous help? But he has done so, on Calvary. To forgive them? They will not be forgiven. To leave them alone? Alas, I am afraid that is what he does.
The thing about hell, like many other doctrines, is that on its face it seems entirely illogical, inhumane, and downright evil. That is, devoid of context, it looks incredibly cruel. It's a bit like trying to explain the doctrine of predestination. You can't simply start with predestination itself because the reason for its existence stems from other doctrines. The same is true for Christ's redemptive work on the cross. I've heard some people call it divine child-abuse, as though it were not only evil and unjust, but entirely unnecessary. The doctrine of hell is no different. The nature and reason for its existence is predicated on other realities.
Traditionally, the doctrine of hell refers to the eternal damnation for the reprobate. The keywords surrounding the controversy are eternal and reprobate. For the latter word, the debate usually entails the question of whether God would even send anyone to hell in the first place, if it even existed. The former is the question of whether hell is suffered for a finite period of time, and if those who suffer it are eventually annihilated or redeemed. There's also the question of the nature of hell itself. Is it a place where God's wrath is poured out on the unrepentant, or is it a situation that we create for ourselves when we don't order our lives as God would like? There are at least as many views of hell as their proponents, but they usually fit into one of a few streams of thought. And although they may be historical, that doesn't mean they're historically orthodox.
Today's cultural ideals of pluralism, tolerance, and even democracy and fairness, have caused an increasing number of people to question the legitimacy of Hell's orthodoxy. The topic of hell has been, well, hot for quite some time now. The controversy over Rob Bell's new book, "Love Wins" is indicative of current cultural climate. At any rate, whatever camp you find yourself in, what you believe about the Hell speaks volumes about what you believe about a great many other things, not least of which is your view of God's love. That's because the doctrine of hell is so inseparably intertwined with other doctrines. You cannot divorce it from God's other attributes.
Let's be serious about one thing though. The usual alternatives to hell (i.e. universalism, annihilationism) from as early as Origen or Gregory of Nyssa have never been accepted as orthodoxy. From the earliest of creeds, to Rome, to Eastern Orthodoxy, or to Protestant evangelicalism, these views of always been rejected outright. They've never passed the rigours of proper exegesis, and their arguments have always fallen flat, regardless of how attractive they may seem. To include them as sound doctrine doesn't mean expanding the borders of orthodoxy, it means moving them somewhere else entirely. More importantly, however, if you don't like the traditional view, your quarrel is not with the theologians who argue for it, but with Jesus himself. Jesus talked more frequently, more seriously, and more earnestly about hell than any other person in Scripture. And let's be honest, for someone who went through it, why wouldn't he?
My suspicion is that a lot of people cringe when they hear about hell not because it's in Scripture, but because people who endorse it have often abused it. The BBC once featured a documentary called, "The Problem of Evil" based on the works of the atheist and Oxford University biologist Richard Dawkins. In it was a segment that showed a pastor of a church deep in America's Bible-Belt who would put on plays about how awful hell was. The whole idea of it was to (quite literally) scare the hell out of the youth group kids so they would turn to Jesus. While people can come to a knowledge of Christ after learning about only about hell, a presentation like this served as nothing more than a blatant abuse of power. Kids would repent out of fear of reprisal, not out of a genuine understanding of God's infinite grace. Jesus is a sort of "fire insurance" if you will.
But for those who struggle with hell because it confronts them in Scripture, the first problem is its awful nature. As Tim Keller notes, the idea of hell-fire is probably metaphorical. That is to say, it's probably metaphorical for something far worse. We cannot escape the Biblical descriptions of hell. It really must be that bad, and for all we know, it could very well be even worse.
To some, however, this creates a problem of theodicy. How could a good and loving God possibly send someone to hell, if not for a short time, but eternally? But this isn't a question of God's love, it is a question of God's justice. If we believe God to be perfectly just, then it must follow that what befalls those going to Hell is befitting of the crimes committed. On the other hand, if a hell like this is simply too severe, then either our sin isn't that serious, or God is unjust. An unjust God is a God who, in the end, provides no hope for those who put their trust in him. In fact, he cannot be trusted in the first place. So it must be a question of the seriousness of sin.
Is sin so bad then? Imagine if Jesus himself made the slightest of slips on earth. Imagine if Jesus himself gave into the temptations of Satan. Imagine, if even for a moment, Jesus decided it wasn't worth the pain, everything that he had set out to do on Earth would've failed. At the end of the beatitudes, Jesus declares with finality, "...be perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect." That is the standard by which Jesus had to live. Thank the Lord, Jesus did. In the face of an infinitely good God then, the insult of sin is infinitely serious.
And why is it eternal? The answer to that is as simple as it is profound. It's because our very nature dictates it. Some people depict hell as being unjust, as though people in hell are clamouring to get out, begging for mercy while an insidious and sadistic God throws them back in. The problem is, they may look for an escape, but it's not out of a repentant heart. The story of the rich man and Lazarus depicts this better than any other story. The rich man has absolutely no acknowledgment of his sinfulness. Having entered hell, the sinning doesn't cease, it carries on like an addiction that endlessly spirals further and further into a bottomless pit. C.S. Lewis describes it this way...
Hell begins with a grumbling mood, always complaining, always blaming others . . . but you are still distinct from it. You may even criticize it in yourself and wish you could stop it. But there may come a day when you can no longer. Then there will be no you left to criticize the mood or even to enjoy it, but just the grumble itself, going on forever like a machine. It is not a question of God 'sending us' to hell. In each of us there is something growing, which will be Hell unless it is nipped in the bud.
(The Great Divorce)
So what about the charge that this somehow denies God's love? Hell does not, in any way, take away from God's love. On the contrary, it strengthens it because it demonstrates how deep and powerful it is. At the heart of Christianity is a God who suffers for us, and has become victorious for us. It's one thing for a man to go through hell deserving it. It's an entirely different matter when someone so obviously perfect goes through it voluntarily in place of the other. Perfect justice, then, does not demean love. It makes love all that much more profound. Both God's love and his justice are fully satisfied through Jesus Christ, and is continually satisfied for us.
Does God, in the end, save us all? The Bible clearly says no. But this too does not make God any less just, even if he had chosen just one person in all mankind to be saved. We all deserve to be wiped out in the flood, to never return to Eden, and be cast away. To us, it's not fair. But to be fair, God would just send us all to hell. It's the fact that he has mercy on any of us in the first place that's so amazing. So it's not a question of how God could send anyone to hell, but how he would bother to redeem anyone at all.
Again, as C.S. Lewis writes
In the long run the answer to all those who object to the doctrine of hell is itself a question: ‘What are you asking God to do?’ To wipe out their past sins and, at all costs, to give them a fresh start, smoothing every difficulty and offering every miraculous help? But he has done so, on Calvary. To forgive them? They will not be forgiven. To leave them alone? Alas, I am afraid that is what he does.
(The Great Divorce)
Monday, March 14, 2011
On Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Robert Louis Stevenson is a Scottish novelist, poet, and essayist, most famously known for books like, Treasure Island, and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The latter book's impact on my understanding of the human condition helped me to understand how it relates to the controversy over Deeds and Creeds. That is, theology is often blamed for the strife and disunity found within church bodies. The idea is that disagreement over creeds causes unresolved arguments and eventually leads to the splitting of the greater Christian body into factions of denominations. Denominationalism, it is argued, exists primarily on the fact that there are irreconcilable differences between groups of people's theology. Therefore, in an attempt to reunite the greater Christian body, an emphasis is put on good deeds rather than sound creeds. The pastor Rick Warren (Purpose Driven Life) once embodied this idea when he said the church of today needs a reformation of Deeds vs. Creeds. The problem is it creates a false dichotomy--you cannot pit one against the other.
I used to joke that if you walked into the middle of some sort of seminarian convention and yell out the word "predestination" a huge fight would ensue between Calvinists and Arminians. Predestination is one of those doctrines that seem to easily spark heated debates. It's not just predestination, of course. There's infra or supralapsarian; Egalitarian or complementarian; or something simple like the worship wars. Any number of topics can often bring about the most uncivilized behaviour from otherwise calm and level-headed people. So much so, that important debates are often avoided, even discouraged.
Debates about such things often mark the divide between different denominations of the Christian church. Baptists, for example, believe that baptism is reserved for adults who openly confess their faith after a conversion, while Reformed and Presbyterians believe that children of believing parents ought to baptize their children as a sign of being part of the covenant family. Protestants believe that Scripture alone is our authority for revelation about God, while Catholics believe that the Church itself and its tradition take precedence.
In any case, while there are those who enjoy playing the contrarian, the devil's advocate as it were, most people would rather see more unity in the Christian body. To some, the uncivilized bickering and divisive behaviour around controversial doctrines demonstrate a great problem. The "H" word get tossed around, people are labeled as heretics, and those on the outside looking in want nothing to do with Christianity. And so, in an attempt to find greater unity, an appeal is often made to good Christian behaviour over and against a focus on having the right doctrine. Put simply, it's more important to be good followers of Jesus than it is to have right doctrine.
But, unlike any other religion, Christianity is more about its propositional Truth statements than it is about a certain ethical code people need to follow. That's not to say it doesn't have Law. We have the 10 commandments, and we have Jesus's teachings to his disciples, among other things. Great advances in ethics credit their influence to the moral code of the Bible. But the Bible isn't just a book of instructions. The Gospel literally means good news. News isn't something you live by, it's something you react to. Christianity is fundamentally about belief in propositional Truth rather than a system of ethics, codes, and rituals to live by.
In fact the apostle Paul, when writing to the various churches, always appealed to the Gospel as a basis for all his exhortations. Everything that Paul implores his people to do is predicated on the death and resurrection of Jesus. It's simple logic that begins with an indicative followed by an imperative. Imperatives alone cannot unite. Only The Gospel serves as his basis for unity. But that's a whole other topic in and of itself for another time.
The real irony of attempting unity through good deeds, civility, and social justice, is that in the end it results in greater divisiveness and strife. Not only is pitting good deeds over creeds logically incoherent, it's inherently moralistic, and that will lead you in one of two directions: Great despair, or great pride...
I used to joke that if you walked into the middle of some sort of seminarian convention and yell out the word "predestination" a huge fight would ensue between Calvinists and Arminians. Predestination is one of those doctrines that seem to easily spark heated debates. It's not just predestination, of course. There's infra or supralapsarian; Egalitarian or complementarian; or something simple like the worship wars. Any number of topics can often bring about the most uncivilized behaviour from otherwise calm and level-headed people. So much so, that important debates are often avoided, even discouraged.
Debates about such things often mark the divide between different denominations of the Christian church. Baptists, for example, believe that baptism is reserved for adults who openly confess their faith after a conversion, while Reformed and Presbyterians believe that children of believing parents ought to baptize their children as a sign of being part of the covenant family. Protestants believe that Scripture alone is our authority for revelation about God, while Catholics believe that the Church itself and its tradition take precedence.
In any case, while there are those who enjoy playing the contrarian, the devil's advocate as it were, most people would rather see more unity in the Christian body. To some, the uncivilized bickering and divisive behaviour around controversial doctrines demonstrate a great problem. The "H" word get tossed around, people are labeled as heretics, and those on the outside looking in want nothing to do with Christianity. And so, in an attempt to find greater unity, an appeal is often made to good Christian behaviour over and against a focus on having the right doctrine. Put simply, it's more important to be good followers of Jesus than it is to have right doctrine.
But, unlike any other religion, Christianity is more about its propositional Truth statements than it is about a certain ethical code people need to follow. That's not to say it doesn't have Law. We have the 10 commandments, and we have Jesus's teachings to his disciples, among other things. Great advances in ethics credit their influence to the moral code of the Bible. But the Bible isn't just a book of instructions. The Gospel literally means good news. News isn't something you live by, it's something you react to. Christianity is fundamentally about belief in propositional Truth rather than a system of ethics, codes, and rituals to live by.
In fact the apostle Paul, when writing to the various churches, always appealed to the Gospel as a basis for all his exhortations. Everything that Paul implores his people to do is predicated on the death and resurrection of Jesus. It's simple logic that begins with an indicative followed by an imperative. Imperatives alone cannot unite. Only The Gospel serves as his basis for unity. But that's a whole other topic in and of itself for another time.
The real irony of attempting unity through good deeds, civility, and social justice, is that in the end it results in greater divisiveness and strife. Not only is pitting good deeds over creeds logically incoherent, it's inherently moralistic, and that will lead you in one of two directions: Great despair, or great pride...
Even if we haven't read the book, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I imagine most of us at least know the concept. Dr. Jekyll is a scientist, a chemist more specifically, who develops a potion that separates the good and evil in him into two distinct characters. Mr. Hyde is the character that results from the separated evil. He is dark, sinister, even grotesque. Meanwhile his good character, Dr. Jekyll, is not only ashamed of Mr. Hyde, but is astounded by the fact that he's far worse than he'd imagined possible. In the end, Mr. Hyde ends up getting the best of him.
The part of the story I want to emphasize goes as follows: The reason Dr. Jekyll developed his potion was not out of some diabolical plan with evil intentions. Rather, he wanted to find a way to become a good person. He believed that the potion would fulfill his wish but, as we know, it instead yielded terrifying results.
Since the potion was not doing what he intended, he later reverted back to simply using sheer force of will to be a good person. With great amounts of discipline, Dr. Jekyll would eventually become that person. Or so he thought. Reflecting on his moral fortitude, he looked at the people around him, and realized with a certain arrogance that he'd become a far better a person than any of them. In that moment he had just become Mr. Hyde again. Permanently.
My telling of the story is obviously quite truncated, but the point is this: We usually associate evil with characters like Mr. Hyde. However, good works and upstanding moral behaviour outside of a context of faith and gratitude to God result in the same thing. This is the whole point of the story of the Prodigal sons. (Luke 15:11-32) The older son did everything his father asked him to, but when the younger son was restored to the family, the older son was indignant. He could not partake in the celebratory feast because he had far too much pride in his own accomplishments. In spite of his righteousness, the older son was just like Dr. Jekyll becoming Mr. Hyde.
There is nothing wrong with the intentions of those who encourage good behaviour in the midst of fierce debate. But fierce debate isn't necessarily a bad thing, nor does judging one another's opinions mean you're being judgemental. Important questions demand our attention, and they help sharpen our understanding of what we believe and why we believe it. In the end our beliefs necessarily shape our actions. The more our understanding is shaped by Jesus, the better followers we can be. We cannot have the former without the latter. Great zeal without knowledge is a dangerous thing, not only in our actions, but in our pride.
Unity among Christians occurs when we understand who we are in front of a Great God and when our identity is found in Christ rather than our own personal moral accomplishments. In fact, this is why we have adopted the use of creeds going back to the very earliest church. It's how Christianity can spread through all generations and cross all cultures, and still find fellow beings (who even disagree with each other) sharing the same cup and the same loaf at Jesus' table in unity.
Since the potion was not doing what he intended, he later reverted back to simply using sheer force of will to be a good person. With great amounts of discipline, Dr. Jekyll would eventually become that person. Or so he thought. Reflecting on his moral fortitude, he looked at the people around him, and realized with a certain arrogance that he'd become a far better a person than any of them. In that moment he had just become Mr. Hyde again. Permanently.
My telling of the story is obviously quite truncated, but the point is this: We usually associate evil with characters like Mr. Hyde. However, good works and upstanding moral behaviour outside of a context of faith and gratitude to God result in the same thing. This is the whole point of the story of the Prodigal sons. (Luke 15:11-32) The older son did everything his father asked him to, but when the younger son was restored to the family, the older son was indignant. He could not partake in the celebratory feast because he had far too much pride in his own accomplishments. In spite of his righteousness, the older son was just like Dr. Jekyll becoming Mr. Hyde.
There is nothing wrong with the intentions of those who encourage good behaviour in the midst of fierce debate. But fierce debate isn't necessarily a bad thing, nor does judging one another's opinions mean you're being judgemental. Important questions demand our attention, and they help sharpen our understanding of what we believe and why we believe it. In the end our beliefs necessarily shape our actions. The more our understanding is shaped by Jesus, the better followers we can be. We cannot have the former without the latter. Great zeal without knowledge is a dangerous thing, not only in our actions, but in our pride.
Unity among Christians occurs when we understand who we are in front of a Great God and when our identity is found in Christ rather than our own personal moral accomplishments. In fact, this is why we have adopted the use of creeds going back to the very earliest church. It's how Christianity can spread through all generations and cross all cultures, and still find fellow beings (who even disagree with each other) sharing the same cup and the same loaf at Jesus' table in unity.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
On Reading Scripture
When the early reformers were convicted by the idea that the Bible should be translated into the vernacular it was a shocking idea for its time. The Holy Scriptures, according the powerful established church, were not meant for the common people. It was dangerous, and only the priests working in the service of the church had the right, or the ability for that matter, to interpret it.
The reformers disagreed.
In fact, it was the reformers who were also convinced of something called the Perspicuity of Scripture. That is, it's clarity. That's not to say that everything is perfectly clear, but that the Bible's main message is abundantly clear to those who read it or hear it. The Bible story is easy enough to be understood by young children, and deep and rich enough for the most thoughtful to mull over it their entire life. In fact, its enough to radically change your life.
The idea of the Scripture's clarity has been called into question many times and for many different reasons over the centuries. We've all seen people get into debates over one another's interpretation of Scripture and the doctrines upon which they're derived. But postmodernism's critique on the modern mind is among the most devastating of late. Essentially, postmodernism recognizes that everyone views the world from a certain perspective and it influences the way they interpret it. It's a legitimate critique, but followed to its logical end, it means that it's impossible for anyone to understand something in an absolute and objective sense.
And it's not just our inability to see things objectively, as modern man felt he could, but that language itself is unreliable. Words and their meanings are constantly fluid. They evolve. How could it possibly capture divine, absolute, objective, and unchanging Truth? At worst, truth is completely conceptual and subjective, and at best it's elusive and mysterious.
We've all seen this argument used as an excuse to explain why one's doctrine is wrong. Clearly, as they would say, so and so has been influenced by the presuppositions determined by the context in which they find themselves, and that makes their view less valid. Or rather, who's to say anyone's view is more accurate than the next?
And yet, it seems that God has faith in human words and man's ability to understand them. After all, it's clearly his preferred method for communicating to us. When God created mankind, He created them with the ability to understand Him in a meaningful, logical, and most importantly, reliable way. This is shown when he gives us the Bible. (Although, even the validity of the Bible as God's word is often questioned, but that's for another time.)
So what are we to make of the many discrepancies among theologians? We simply can't all be right. That's illogical. And for that matter, how do we understand what's orthodoxy and what's heresy? Rather than getting into theory of hermeneutics, I do want to talk about something that is universally true when reading Scripture: the need for humility.
As I mentioned earlier, the postmodern critique is a legitimate one, and yet God has still chosen to use words and human language to speak Truth. Our perspectives necessarily affect the way we read Scripture, not so much that we can't clearly understand it, but that we differ in the way we react to it. That is to say, our preconceived notions of reality, our worldview, and our emotional baggage, are confronted by what the Bible says. There are things in it in which some may find great joy, and others great sorrow. Some things we find are completely normal, and others we find appalling and offensive.
We need humility because if we take God's word seriously, and we take it as being True, then we are naturally going to find these very things that go against our sensibilities and notions of reality. Take, for example, the idea of guilt. According to much pop-psychology today, guilt is the antithesis of success and personal happiness. Guilt is synonymous with having a low self-esteem, and low self-esteem, they argue (albeit lacking any empirical evidence), leads to poor performance and bad interpersonal skills. Yet, it seems according to the Bible, guilt is a sign of sanity! Those who are most aware of their guilt are most aware of their need for God's grace.
The problem is, the more vested our interests in a particular idea, the more difficult it is for us to overturn them. We don't like being wrong. Its a natural tendency for us to rationalize our tightly held beliefs in the face of conflicting evidence. The same is true of Scripture. It confronts us whether we like it or not. But to rationalize, however naturally it may come to us, is nothing short of cowardice.
There is a pattern that occurs when we allow our worldview to be shaped by the things in the Bible that offend us most. In the example of guilt, had it not been for becoming aware of the degree of our sinfulness, we would never have seen the necessity of God's mercy. Furthermore, the concept of God's love would have been reduced to simple sentimentality. In order to see that guilt is important, we have to be willing to give up our prejudices first. We will never understand why certain things are necessary if we choose to ignore them simply because we don't like them. Otherwise the reverse happens, and we read our prejudices into the Scripture instead. Thus, the postmodern critique.
Obviously, there will always be things we find confusing and offensive, but just because they're confusing and offensive doesn't mean they're necessarily false. When Jesus came to earth, he was constantly offending the establishment. Eventually, it led to his death. As we read, we typically have little sympathy for them, but we're often guilty of the same sins. In our reading of Scripture, we often would rather crucify Jesus than take his word for it.
So what are we to make of the many discrepancies among theologians? We simply can't all be right. That's illogical. And for that matter, how do we understand what's orthodoxy and what's heresy? Rather than getting into theory of hermeneutics, I do want to talk about something that is universally true when reading Scripture: the need for humility.
As I mentioned earlier, the postmodern critique is a legitimate one, and yet God has still chosen to use words and human language to speak Truth. Our perspectives necessarily affect the way we read Scripture, not so much that we can't clearly understand it, but that we differ in the way we react to it. That is to say, our preconceived notions of reality, our worldview, and our emotional baggage, are confronted by what the Bible says. There are things in it in which some may find great joy, and others great sorrow. Some things we find are completely normal, and others we find appalling and offensive.
We need humility because if we take God's word seriously, and we take it as being True, then we are naturally going to find these very things that go against our sensibilities and notions of reality. Take, for example, the idea of guilt. According to much pop-psychology today, guilt is the antithesis of success and personal happiness. Guilt is synonymous with having a low self-esteem, and low self-esteem, they argue (albeit lacking any empirical evidence), leads to poor performance and bad interpersonal skills. Yet, it seems according to the Bible, guilt is a sign of sanity! Those who are most aware of their guilt are most aware of their need for God's grace.
The problem is, the more vested our interests in a particular idea, the more difficult it is for us to overturn them. We don't like being wrong. Its a natural tendency for us to rationalize our tightly held beliefs in the face of conflicting evidence. The same is true of Scripture. It confronts us whether we like it or not. But to rationalize, however naturally it may come to us, is nothing short of cowardice.
There is a pattern that occurs when we allow our worldview to be shaped by the things in the Bible that offend us most. In the example of guilt, had it not been for becoming aware of the degree of our sinfulness, we would never have seen the necessity of God's mercy. Furthermore, the concept of God's love would have been reduced to simple sentimentality. In order to see that guilt is important, we have to be willing to give up our prejudices first. We will never understand why certain things are necessary if we choose to ignore them simply because we don't like them. Otherwise the reverse happens, and we read our prejudices into the Scripture instead. Thus, the postmodern critique.
Obviously, there will always be things we find confusing and offensive, but just because they're confusing and offensive doesn't mean they're necessarily false. When Jesus came to earth, he was constantly offending the establishment. Eventually, it led to his death. As we read, we typically have little sympathy for them, but we're often guilty of the same sins. In our reading of Scripture, we often would rather crucify Jesus than take his word for it.
Friday, March 11, 2011
First Post
I once blogged many years ago, but my last blog post was somewhere in the middle of 2008. Amidst a fury of activity recently around the internet, specifically Facebook, I felt inspired to get back in to some more writing again. Much of Facebook, and most places in the blogosphere for that matter, have been riddled by the sort of silliness akin to the writings on a bathroom stall, so I've resolved myself from getting into any discussion on anything beyond the regular trifles and quips most common on Facebook. While I find having a blog provides a (slightly) better venue for open and civil discussion on topics that are important to us, I'm still not sure what I write will even stir anyone to anything closer to what the Truth may be. My hope is that it will, but that remains to be seen.
I have had a great many influences over the years, and this blog will most certainly be a reflection of that. In fact, most of anything I'll write in here probably won't be anything original to me, but something that I've heard or read from somebody far more important and influential. I will do my best to give credit where credit is due. Enjoy.
I have had a great many influences over the years, and this blog will most certainly be a reflection of that. In fact, most of anything I'll write in here probably won't be anything original to me, but something that I've heard or read from somebody far more important and influential. I will do my best to give credit where credit is due. Enjoy.
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