It's amazing sometimes the way life derails even our best-laid plans. Thus, no blog posts for the past three weeks. Sure, it sounds like an excuse; after all, everyone's busy with the stuff of life. And, in fact, it probably is just an excuse. However, it gives me a chance for some theological ruminations.
We all live out our lives here on earth under the providence of God. For some, this provides the comforting thought that no matter what happens, God is there with us through it all. For others, it provides a level of frustration, since they expect that God's presence should keep all the problems away from us. For many, the providence of God is an uncomfortable or even unwelcome thought. They want to be in control, and if there is a God is means that He has some claim on their lives.
Maybe for most of us all three of these are true at various times in our lives. For instance, we have the innate desire to be in control of what happens to us, to be the captain of our own fate. Further reflection will remind us that this is obviously not true. That's not a fallacious "obviously" that attempts to evade the question; if you think about your life, how much of it happened without your approval? Your physical makeup, your family, where you were born and grew up, the talents you have, many of the circumstances of life- all of these happen without any input on our part. No matter how hard we try or how much we work at it, we can't control much of our lives.
The thought that if God is for us nothing bad should happen to us is the focus of a lot of teaching these days. (It was also the focus of a lot of teaching throughout history, but we tend to forget that.) By reading certain Biblical passages in a certain way, and taking a few verses out of context, and tying that together with the truth that God does care for us, we think that as long as we're trying to please God we should avoid the bad things that happen in this world. Yet the Bible never promises us that we will avoid problems if we're faithful to God. In fact, it promises just the opposite! (Read Mark 10:30 and James 1:2-4, in context please.)
Ultimately the promise of the presence of God in our lives provides comfort not because it ensures we won't face trials, but because it promises that He goes with us through the trials. One of the salient points of Easter is that Jesus went through suffering on our behalf, so when we suffer we don't go to a God who doesn't understand what we're facing, but One who experienced it all for us. In the end, our peace and comfort come from knowing our loving Father carries us through all the trials of life, so that whatever happens we are not separated from Him.
Or, maybe, I should say that in the end, the trials of life will bring us to the glories of a perfect life, the kind of life we desire and were made for. Life only lasts so long. Unless Jesus comes back first, we're all going to die. (There's an encouraging word for the day!) But, through the suffering and death of Jesus and the promise of His resurrection, we can be restored to life the way God meant it to be. We've wrecked our lives and our world through sin; Jesus broke the power of sin so the life we want to live can be ours through Him. So I'm not complaining (at least, I'm trying not to). I just want to lean on the comfort of the presence of God through my life, until I have the life He promises in Christ.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Thursday, April 3, 2014
The Apocrypha and the Hebrew canon
For my Bible reading project this year, I decided for the first time to read through a Roman Catholic translation, including the Apocrypha. I've read through the books of the Apocrypha before, but I thought it would be informative to read through them as they stand in the Bible. I take them in the order they appear in the New American Bible, Revised Edition, which is the translation I have chosen to read. So today I reached the first of these books, Tobit. (I admit that Tobit is a fascinating story, if a bit strange in detail and with a decided emphasis on almsgiving as a means of righteousness.)
Now my friends will hit me from both sides the fence on this reading choice. My Protestant friends will ask me why I bother to read the Apocryphal books at all. (Some might even question why I'd bother with a non-Protestant translation, but I reading through a variety of translations gives me insights into where many of them come from theologically, and the Word of God is powerful in any good translation-and even in many bad ones!) As someone who has a deep interest in the early church, especially the Ante-Nicene period, I know that while these books were generally not accepted as canonical, they were respected as books that provided spiritual insight that could be helpful. In many respects, they are an OT era parallel to books like the Epistle of Barnabas, the Didache, and 1 Clement, which were valued by the church but were ultimately determined to be non-canonical.
My Roman Catholic friends, on the other hand, would ask why, if I consider them worthwhile enough to read and respect the opinion of the early church that they have some value, I don't consider them canonical. While there are a number of reasons to reject the Apocrypha (and even the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Churches view them as having a lesser canonical status), there really is one reason that stands out for me: they were not part of the Hebrew canon.
The Tanakh, as it later came to be called, was generally settled by time of the Hasmoneans. (The story that it was set at the Council of Jamnia in the late 1st or early 2nd century has been widely discredited.) The name comes from the Hebrew words for the three sections of the Hebrew Bible: Torah (Law), Nebi'im (Prophets), and Kethubim (Writings). It consisted of 22 or 24 books, depending on who was doing the division and whether they felt the need to have the same number of books as the Hebrew alphabet had letters. Several of our current 39 OT books were combined: the books of Samuel, the books of Kings, the books of Chronicles, Ezra/Nehemiah, and the Twelve minor prophets. (To get 22, you can combine Judges/Ruth and Jeremaih/Lamentations.)
This three-fold division, with its constituent books, was well-attested by Jesus' time. The Apocrypha lay outside of the Hebrew canon then, and continues to be rejected as canonical by Jews to this day. In my view, the establishment of what we call the Old Testament canon should follow the practice of the Jewish people, for whom it was a remains Scripture. For Christians to add to that canon is to place our (often much later) views on a higher plain than the views of those for whom these words were life.
I will continue to read the Apocrypha, and I anticipate that I will find it informative, spiritually uplifting, and helpful as devotional literature. I will still, however, base my beliefs and my theology on those books that I believe, and that the Jews believe, are the ones inspired by God.
Now my friends will hit me from both sides the fence on this reading choice. My Protestant friends will ask me why I bother to read the Apocryphal books at all. (Some might even question why I'd bother with a non-Protestant translation, but I reading through a variety of translations gives me insights into where many of them come from theologically, and the Word of God is powerful in any good translation-and even in many bad ones!) As someone who has a deep interest in the early church, especially the Ante-Nicene period, I know that while these books were generally not accepted as canonical, they were respected as books that provided spiritual insight that could be helpful. In many respects, they are an OT era parallel to books like the Epistle of Barnabas, the Didache, and 1 Clement, which were valued by the church but were ultimately determined to be non-canonical.
My Roman Catholic friends, on the other hand, would ask why, if I consider them worthwhile enough to read and respect the opinion of the early church that they have some value, I don't consider them canonical. While there are a number of reasons to reject the Apocrypha (and even the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Churches view them as having a lesser canonical status), there really is one reason that stands out for me: they were not part of the Hebrew canon.
The Tanakh, as it later came to be called, was generally settled by time of the Hasmoneans. (The story that it was set at the Council of Jamnia in the late 1st or early 2nd century has been widely discredited.) The name comes from the Hebrew words for the three sections of the Hebrew Bible: Torah (Law), Nebi'im (Prophets), and Kethubim (Writings). It consisted of 22 or 24 books, depending on who was doing the division and whether they felt the need to have the same number of books as the Hebrew alphabet had letters. Several of our current 39 OT books were combined: the books of Samuel, the books of Kings, the books of Chronicles, Ezra/Nehemiah, and the Twelve minor prophets. (To get 22, you can combine Judges/Ruth and Jeremaih/Lamentations.)
This three-fold division, with its constituent books, was well-attested by Jesus' time. The Apocrypha lay outside of the Hebrew canon then, and continues to be rejected as canonical by Jews to this day. In my view, the establishment of what we call the Old Testament canon should follow the practice of the Jewish people, for whom it was a remains Scripture. For Christians to add to that canon is to place our (often much later) views on a higher plain than the views of those for whom these words were life.
I will continue to read the Apocrypha, and I anticipate that I will find it informative, spiritually uplifting, and helpful as devotional literature. I will still, however, base my beliefs and my theology on those books that I believe, and that the Jews believe, are the ones inspired by God.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
The flaw in modern philosophies
Reading the "Comments" section under many online articles can be very entertaining. Most of the time it seems like commenters are just like little kids on the playground- "You're stupid!" "Yeah, well, you're stupider!" "I know I am, but what are you?" (This is especially true on political/news web sites, and even more true on sports web sites.) Sometimes, though, there can be a real exchange of ideas (if by "exchange" I mean an expression of one's thoughts without regard to what the other person is saying). In these instances, you can occasionally see the underlying philosophy that guides someone's thought.
Because I frequent web sites that express Christian viewpoints, I see a lot of dissent from what is being presented in the article. Some of this dissent is emotionally driven assaults on the viewpoint expressed, without much regard for what is actually said. (Let me say here that Christian responses to these posts, or that are posted on other web sites expressing alternative points of view, can be just as thoughtless and vitriolic.) But some set out the poster's reasons for disagreeing with what is stated, with their own resoning for their viewpoint.
One recent spate of posts I read expressed a general disagreement with an article on the motivations of people who invite others to church. Several of the respondents prided themselves on having a "rational" worldview, in which they understood the truth about the gradual evolution of the universe and humanity, and expressed confidence in the essential goodness of people in contrast to what they characterized as an angry, vengeful God. Such ideas certainly are common among many in our culture.
I believe that this kind of thinking, which is found in many modern philosophies (formal and informal), is the biggest flaw in those systems. What's more, I believe that this can be shown to be true without any reference to the Bible or God. The essential goodness of humanity is a false concept that can easily be seen to have no basis in the real world.
I'm sure by now many of you are wondering how I come to this conclusion. It's actually pretty simple. Those who believe that humanity is essentially good have their reasons for the evil (or anti-social, if they prefer) behavior of people. Some say it is due to a lack of knowledge, and that with proper education no one would behave badly. Others argue it is caused by poverty, and if we only give people enough to meet their needs they won't have any reason to do wrong. A third group might argue that it is due to oppression, and that when the existing powers are overthrown and power is given to people, they will use it responsibly. There are several other alternatives given for the existence of evil/wrong/social unacceptable behavior that fit into this same mold.
I don't have space here to counter all of those ideas, except to say that anyone who thinks about it will see that none of these solutions has worked. We've raised educational levels, provided economic assistance, seen revolutions topple dictators, and so on down the line, and the world is not appreciably better behaved. If you argue from our experience of humanity, the goodness of mankind is hard to see.
This is the flaw in most modern philosophies. However, if we flip the statement on its head and argue for the essential selfishness and corruption of humanity, we find that the empirical data support it. We aren't really good at heart; we want what we want, and often shape our beliefs to make that self-centeredness the very rock of our moral and ethical beliefs.
I have often asked this question: "Which do you have to teach a child- to be good and care about others, or to be selfish and self-centered?" If you're a parent, you know the answer. This hurts us, and insults us. We want to think we are better than this, and that our inner nobility just needs a little help to come forth.
Christianity is often thought by those who are not believers to teach that what Christians are is perfect people who look down on the badness of others. This is the exact opposite of the truth. Christians know that we are sinners, self-centered and selfish, and that we are ourselves desperately in need of something or someone to make us right. (OK, I'll confess that I've known some Christians who think they are "all that," but they're just as wrong as anyone else who thinks they're good enough.) No amount of effort, education, government assistance, political power, or anything else is going to suffice to make us right.
The good news is that we don't have to do it ourselves. Jesus took care of that for us by His sacrifice, and through Him and the power of the Holy Spirit we can be good. Our very nature has to change, and this can only happen through Christ. Christianity takes a hard and real look at what we are, and tells us something we don't want to hear. But in the end, it also proclaims to us the only way to overcome our problem.
Because I frequent web sites that express Christian viewpoints, I see a lot of dissent from what is being presented in the article. Some of this dissent is emotionally driven assaults on the viewpoint expressed, without much regard for what is actually said. (Let me say here that Christian responses to these posts, or that are posted on other web sites expressing alternative points of view, can be just as thoughtless and vitriolic.) But some set out the poster's reasons for disagreeing with what is stated, with their own resoning for their viewpoint.
One recent spate of posts I read expressed a general disagreement with an article on the motivations of people who invite others to church. Several of the respondents prided themselves on having a "rational" worldview, in which they understood the truth about the gradual evolution of the universe and humanity, and expressed confidence in the essential goodness of people in contrast to what they characterized as an angry, vengeful God. Such ideas certainly are common among many in our culture.
I believe that this kind of thinking, which is found in many modern philosophies (formal and informal), is the biggest flaw in those systems. What's more, I believe that this can be shown to be true without any reference to the Bible or God. The essential goodness of humanity is a false concept that can easily be seen to have no basis in the real world.
I'm sure by now many of you are wondering how I come to this conclusion. It's actually pretty simple. Those who believe that humanity is essentially good have their reasons for the evil (or anti-social, if they prefer) behavior of people. Some say it is due to a lack of knowledge, and that with proper education no one would behave badly. Others argue it is caused by poverty, and if we only give people enough to meet their needs they won't have any reason to do wrong. A third group might argue that it is due to oppression, and that when the existing powers are overthrown and power is given to people, they will use it responsibly. There are several other alternatives given for the existence of evil/wrong/social unacceptable behavior that fit into this same mold.
I don't have space here to counter all of those ideas, except to say that anyone who thinks about it will see that none of these solutions has worked. We've raised educational levels, provided economic assistance, seen revolutions topple dictators, and so on down the line, and the world is not appreciably better behaved. If you argue from our experience of humanity, the goodness of mankind is hard to see.
This is the flaw in most modern philosophies. However, if we flip the statement on its head and argue for the essential selfishness and corruption of humanity, we find that the empirical data support it. We aren't really good at heart; we want what we want, and often shape our beliefs to make that self-centeredness the very rock of our moral and ethical beliefs.
I have often asked this question: "Which do you have to teach a child- to be good and care about others, or to be selfish and self-centered?" If you're a parent, you know the answer. This hurts us, and insults us. We want to think we are better than this, and that our inner nobility just needs a little help to come forth.
Christianity is often thought by those who are not believers to teach that what Christians are is perfect people who look down on the badness of others. This is the exact opposite of the truth. Christians know that we are sinners, self-centered and selfish, and that we are ourselves desperately in need of something or someone to make us right. (OK, I'll confess that I've known some Christians who think they are "all that," but they're just as wrong as anyone else who thinks they're good enough.) No amount of effort, education, government assistance, political power, or anything else is going to suffice to make us right.
The good news is that we don't have to do it ourselves. Jesus took care of that for us by His sacrifice, and through Him and the power of the Holy Spirit we can be good. Our very nature has to change, and this can only happen through Christ. Christianity takes a hard and real look at what we are, and tells us something we don't want to hear. But in the end, it also proclaims to us the only way to overcome our problem.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Why church history matters
I've been doing a study of the second-century Ebionites for an on-again, off-again project I've had simmering for a few years. The term was originally used of Jewish-Christians in general, but came to be applied to groups that were more focused on law, and some of whom even denied the deity of Jesus. Ebionism died out fairly early in the history of the church, but the Ebionites or their predecessors may have been one of the groups Paul criticized in his epistles.
The study of this group is a fascinating study in and of itself, and I certainly don't want to imply that you shouldn't study something just because it fascinates you. Sometimes I think too much of what we study (and by "we" I mean "me" especially) is done for practical purposes. I do a lot of teaching, and some preaching, and I'm always looking at the texts I'm using and digging into them for those purposes. It's fun to study something just for the sake of study. Yet as I looked into the Ebionites and their beliefs, I found that there is still a relevance to examining their beliefs.
The most prominent difference between the second-century Ebionites and orthodox Christians was their focus on the Law. It may have begun as a specifically Jewish observation among those who had become followers of Jesus as Messiah, but it turned into a requirement for salvation. To the Ebionites, it wasn't enough to be saved by faith in Jesus; you also had to observe the Law to be in right standing with God. This belief may have led to some of the more extreme forms of Ebionism, like the groups that denied Jesus' divinity. The Law became far more important than grace.
So why do I find this relevant? You can probably find a church near you that claims to believe in salvation by grace through faith but has its own "law" you have to keep to really be saved. I have been in and around a number of churches that certainly seem to preach salvation by your good works, even as they gave lip service to God's grace. To be a "genuine" Christian, you have to show it by living up to the standards they have set up. Jesus just isn't enough.
That is no more true today than it was in the second century. I don't depreciate the value of good works, since we're told by Jesus that they are evidence of the change in our hearts. But you don't get to heaven by being good, and you certainly don't get to heaven by keeping man-made rules that some church decides are the right ones. I also think that, just like the Ebionites, churches that focus on "law" tend to move theologically away from the truth about the person and work of Jesus Christ. If I need to keep a law or set of rules to be saved, then Jesus' death is essentially irrelevant.
I don't want to go too far in drawing the parallels here, but I think an awareness of the ways the church and groups connected with it have gone astray is a powerful reminder to us that it's easy to put our own ideas in the place of God's Word. Some modern heresies and questionable teachings actually have historical precedents, and it's our ignorance of our own past that allows them to proliferate.
What's the answer? Of course I'm going to say we need to study and learn church history, but even a simple awareness of our own tendencies to wander from the truth should keep us on guard. We need to subject everything to the teaching of the Scriptures. When we focus on the Word Incarnate and the Word revealed we will have strong help in remaining faithful to God. Then we can learn from the mistakes of the past, and set our future to be as faithful to God as we seek to follow Him.
The study of this group is a fascinating study in and of itself, and I certainly don't want to imply that you shouldn't study something just because it fascinates you. Sometimes I think too much of what we study (and by "we" I mean "me" especially) is done for practical purposes. I do a lot of teaching, and some preaching, and I'm always looking at the texts I'm using and digging into them for those purposes. It's fun to study something just for the sake of study. Yet as I looked into the Ebionites and their beliefs, I found that there is still a relevance to examining their beliefs.
The most prominent difference between the second-century Ebionites and orthodox Christians was their focus on the Law. It may have begun as a specifically Jewish observation among those who had become followers of Jesus as Messiah, but it turned into a requirement for salvation. To the Ebionites, it wasn't enough to be saved by faith in Jesus; you also had to observe the Law to be in right standing with God. This belief may have led to some of the more extreme forms of Ebionism, like the groups that denied Jesus' divinity. The Law became far more important than grace.
So why do I find this relevant? You can probably find a church near you that claims to believe in salvation by grace through faith but has its own "law" you have to keep to really be saved. I have been in and around a number of churches that certainly seem to preach salvation by your good works, even as they gave lip service to God's grace. To be a "genuine" Christian, you have to show it by living up to the standards they have set up. Jesus just isn't enough.
That is no more true today than it was in the second century. I don't depreciate the value of good works, since we're told by Jesus that they are evidence of the change in our hearts. But you don't get to heaven by being good, and you certainly don't get to heaven by keeping man-made rules that some church decides are the right ones. I also think that, just like the Ebionites, churches that focus on "law" tend to move theologically away from the truth about the person and work of Jesus Christ. If I need to keep a law or set of rules to be saved, then Jesus' death is essentially irrelevant.
I don't want to go too far in drawing the parallels here, but I think an awareness of the ways the church and groups connected with it have gone astray is a powerful reminder to us that it's easy to put our own ideas in the place of God's Word. Some modern heresies and questionable teachings actually have historical precedents, and it's our ignorance of our own past that allows them to proliferate.
What's the answer? Of course I'm going to say we need to study and learn church history, but even a simple awareness of our own tendencies to wander from the truth should keep us on guard. We need to subject everything to the teaching of the Scriptures. When we focus on the Word Incarnate and the Word revealed we will have strong help in remaining faithful to God. Then we can learn from the mistakes of the past, and set our future to be as faithful to God as we seek to follow Him.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Why theology is cool
I stole the title for this blog post from a Theology Network podcast which I highly recommend to anyone who loves the study of theology. (You'll find it here.) I admit, I never would have thought about Judges 6 as a paradigm for theology, might Mike Reeves makes perfect sense when he speaks about the role of theology as tearing down false gods and building up the worship of the one true God.
What really got me thinking about this, however, is the response to the last couple of posts on this blog. I had been posting Biblical observations that probably tended to be a little more pastoral and devotional this year, until this month. These last posts, however, have been accessed about three times as much as my previous posts averaged. I'm not going to tell you I get a huge number of hits on this blog, but I was surprised by just how much more popular the theological posts were.
Looking back to much older material, I also see more interest when I posted historical and theological material than when I recapped sermons, for example. (Except the Zacchaeus sermon- that's still the #1 post of all time on this blog. I have no idea why.) So I'm making a guess about the readers of this blog- you'd rather read more about theology and history than get your devotional thought for the day here. I don't know if that means I do a better job writing about academic subjects than I do writing devotional material, or if it's just a reflection of the interests of my readers.
I'm going to make an effort to deal with those kinds of topics more often here. I find theological and historical study fascinating myself, so this is no burden on me. I also realize I called this blog "My little corner of academia," so it fits the original purpose I think I had when I started to write. (I could be wrong about that, since I don't remember what if anything I was thinking back then.)
I apologize for a post that's more about my thought process than any subject of interest to you, but I think I owe it to my readers to let them know the direction I'll be taking.In the meantime, go listen to that podcast. It will be time well spent.
What really got me thinking about this, however, is the response to the last couple of posts on this blog. I had been posting Biblical observations that probably tended to be a little more pastoral and devotional this year, until this month. These last posts, however, have been accessed about three times as much as my previous posts averaged. I'm not going to tell you I get a huge number of hits on this blog, but I was surprised by just how much more popular the theological posts were.
Looking back to much older material, I also see more interest when I posted historical and theological material than when I recapped sermons, for example. (Except the Zacchaeus sermon- that's still the #1 post of all time on this blog. I have no idea why.) So I'm making a guess about the readers of this blog- you'd rather read more about theology and history than get your devotional thought for the day here. I don't know if that means I do a better job writing about academic subjects than I do writing devotional material, or if it's just a reflection of the interests of my readers.
I'm going to make an effort to deal with those kinds of topics more often here. I find theological and historical study fascinating myself, so this is no burden on me. I also realize I called this blog "My little corner of academia," so it fits the original purpose I think I had when I started to write. (I could be wrong about that, since I don't remember what if anything I was thinking back then.)
I apologize for a post that's more about my thought process than any subject of interest to you, but I think I owe it to my readers to let them know the direction I'll be taking.In the meantime, go listen to that podcast. It will be time well spent.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
The enormity of sin
A subject that has come up several times in my recent reading and listening has been the way that people, especially Christians, view sin. It's not a topic that many are comfortable with, and some preachers and churches try to shy away from the subject and dwell instead on what they would consider more "positive" aspects of salvation, like God's love and His plan for your life. (This is not true in my own church; our pastor is very clear about sin and its effects on everyone's life.) "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," they might respond to criticism of their approach.
Certainly some people come to Christ through the revelation of God's love expressed in Him. Still, there has to be some explanation for just how that love was expressed on the cross. This has been an issue throughout the history of Christianity; views of the Atonement have sparked controversy and produced an enormous amount of writings as theologians argued their points. No matter what approach you take, however, you still have to explain how the love of God for us required Jesus to go to the cross.
Part of the problem is that in our contemporary Western society we have lost a sense of the enormity of sin. In American culture, you are more likely to see sin applauded than condemned. People who live for sex, money, power, and vanity are looked up to by many, and what they do to achieve their successes is seen as something to emulate, not avoid. "As long as no one else is getting hurt, why worry about it?" is the question posed to those who would criticize from a Biblical worldview.
I think where the confusion comes is in the difference between the seriousness of the effects of sin here on earth and the enormity of sin in God's sight. We tend to think of sin on a sliding scale: a white lie isn't as bad as shoplifting, which isn't as bad as dealing drugs, which isn't as bad as killing someone, which isn't as bad as genocide. In terms of the temporal effects of those sins, there is some truth to this. However, this scale of sin fails to take into account what eternal effect of sin is.
In the end, all sin results in one dramatic and horrific effect: the nailing of God to a cross. Our sin, no matter what the individual act may have been, resulted in the death of Jesus. Given that effect, all sin is an offense against a holy and loving God. Sin is an infinite offense against an infinite God, and separates us from God by an infinite gulf that we cannot bridge ourselves.
It is because sin is this serious that it took Jesus' infinite sacrifice to enable us to be restored to God. Our sin separates us from the God who loves us, and He is the One who, through Christ, makes it possible for us to be brought back into His family.
To view sin as anything less is to take a human-centric perspective and assume that is reality. Popular religious belief says that if you just do more good than bad in your life, you'll get to heaven. God will give you a pass on your sin if you've done enough good deeds to offset them. If this is true, then there was no need for Jesus to die. God could have simply hand-waved away sin without Jesus having to suffer so much.
To do so, though, He would have to suppress much of who He is. In my previous post about the simplicity of God, we saw how all of God's attributes are of equal, interdependent importance. A God who winks at sin is no longer just or holy, among other things. To remain true to Himself, God has to view sin as it is, and we need to understand, as well as we can, just how serious sin is in His sight.
Once we realize the enormity of our own sin, we can understand out need for divine intervention for the forgiveness of our sin. Then we are open to the good news of Jesus' sacrifice for us, and can respond with hearts that are humbled, contrite, and grateful for all He has done for us. Remembering how serious sin is also helps us to "go and sin no more." True, we will stumble and fall sometimes, but knowing what it cost for those sins to be forgiven ought to at least begin to motivate us to avoid sin out of our love and thankfulness to our Lord and Savior.
Certainly some people come to Christ through the revelation of God's love expressed in Him. Still, there has to be some explanation for just how that love was expressed on the cross. This has been an issue throughout the history of Christianity; views of the Atonement have sparked controversy and produced an enormous amount of writings as theologians argued their points. No matter what approach you take, however, you still have to explain how the love of God for us required Jesus to go to the cross.
Part of the problem is that in our contemporary Western society we have lost a sense of the enormity of sin. In American culture, you are more likely to see sin applauded than condemned. People who live for sex, money, power, and vanity are looked up to by many, and what they do to achieve their successes is seen as something to emulate, not avoid. "As long as no one else is getting hurt, why worry about it?" is the question posed to those who would criticize from a Biblical worldview.
I think where the confusion comes is in the difference between the seriousness of the effects of sin here on earth and the enormity of sin in God's sight. We tend to think of sin on a sliding scale: a white lie isn't as bad as shoplifting, which isn't as bad as dealing drugs, which isn't as bad as killing someone, which isn't as bad as genocide. In terms of the temporal effects of those sins, there is some truth to this. However, this scale of sin fails to take into account what eternal effect of sin is.
In the end, all sin results in one dramatic and horrific effect: the nailing of God to a cross. Our sin, no matter what the individual act may have been, resulted in the death of Jesus. Given that effect, all sin is an offense against a holy and loving God. Sin is an infinite offense against an infinite God, and separates us from God by an infinite gulf that we cannot bridge ourselves.
It is because sin is this serious that it took Jesus' infinite sacrifice to enable us to be restored to God. Our sin separates us from the God who loves us, and He is the One who, through Christ, makes it possible for us to be brought back into His family.
To view sin as anything less is to take a human-centric perspective and assume that is reality. Popular religious belief says that if you just do more good than bad in your life, you'll get to heaven. God will give you a pass on your sin if you've done enough good deeds to offset them. If this is true, then there was no need for Jesus to die. God could have simply hand-waved away sin without Jesus having to suffer so much.
To do so, though, He would have to suppress much of who He is. In my previous post about the simplicity of God, we saw how all of God's attributes are of equal, interdependent importance. A God who winks at sin is no longer just or holy, among other things. To remain true to Himself, God has to view sin as it is, and we need to understand, as well as we can, just how serious sin is in His sight.
Once we realize the enormity of our own sin, we can understand out need for divine intervention for the forgiveness of our sin. Then we are open to the good news of Jesus' sacrifice for us, and can respond with hearts that are humbled, contrite, and grateful for all He has done for us. Remembering how serious sin is also helps us to "go and sin no more." True, we will stumble and fall sometimes, but knowing what it cost for those sins to be forgiven ought to at least begin to motivate us to avoid sin out of our love and thankfulness to our Lord and Savior.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
The simplicity of God (a complex subject)
I like to listen to theological podcasts while I work out at the gym. (You need something to make 40 minutes on a stationary bike seem like fun.) One topic that came up in a couple of the podcasts I used this week was the simplicity of God. It isn't something we often talk about, unless you happen to be in a theology class. Preachers (including me) don't allude to it much. Yet it may be one aspect of God that helps us poke through some of the tough questions raised about God and His work.
While we use the term "simple" almost as a put-down, in theology it is something that God possesses that is distinctive from His creation. In a nutshell, simplicity means that God is a single unified being, not a being made up of many parts. So all the attributes of God-His omnipotence, omniscience, love, holiness, etc.- are not parts of God, but are all entirely essential to Him. Now to us, this seems a whole lot more like "complex" than "simple." We don't really have a mental capacity for grasping this as finite creatures. But it underscores an important truth that no one attribute of God is more "essential" than another.
One of the reasons the simplicity of God may be neglected is that it is very tough to pin it down without risking making God seems like an impersonal mass of attributes. We do sometimes fall into the trap of thinking of God as what He is rather than who He is. Personality and personal attributes are also a part of His simplicity, however. You can't make God out to be some kind of cosmic impersonal power, or treat Him as if He was a single attribute such as love, without doing violence to the reality revealed to us in Scripture.
If this all sounds like a lot to digest, it is. I'm not trying to pretend that I have a full grasp on this topic, or that I ever will. (At this point in my life I'm quite comfortable with the knowledge that as a finite creature there are just some things I'll never fully comprehend, even in heaven.) What is important about it is how it helps us sort through some theological questions by rejecting arguments that are built on an understanding of God as somehow having some "essential" attribute that takes priority over others.
For example, one of the arguments for universalism, the doctrine that all people will be saved, is built on the love of God as His essential nature. Love triumphs over holiness, righteousness, or anything else, so all people must be saved or somehow God is thwarted. But if the love of God is no more essential than any other attribute, we need to consider how the balanced nature of God would deal with salvation. (It's also possible to go the other way, to make holiness trump love in a way that pushes the love of God aside or stunts it, which leads to other problems.)
We need to make sure that we do our best to understand God as thoroughly as possible, and to analyze what is said about God with the knowledge (however imperfect) that He is everything He says He is equally. Will this solve all or theological problems? No. But it will help us become clearer and more exact in our study and understanding of God and His Word, and keep us from making God less than He really is.
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