me (11:24:32 PM): one of the things about breaking the harmony...
me (11:24:35 PM): the more and more you do it
me (11:24:40 PM): the less dischordant the noise sounds.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
[Xanga] OutKast Theology
a bit of theology from Andre3000 (aka Three Stacks):
"If what they say is, 'nothing is forever', then what makes... love the exception?
"so why oh why... are we so in denial if we know we're not happy here?" - Hey Ya
One day I am going to use that quote in a talk, i just know it.
"If what they say is, 'nothing is forever', then what makes... love the exception?
"so why oh why... are we so in denial if we know we're not happy here?" - Hey Ya
One day I am going to use that quote in a talk, i just know it.
[Xanga] Thanks, Billy
Billy: yeah well just something i've been challenged with lately is:
if everything that you hope to happen happens perfectly, if it all comes out for the good, does that mean that God is blessing you?
1:03 AM me: oh yeah
i been thinking on that too
ironic, because then God pushes me to live it out
Billy: right, i think you said it perfectly in your xanga, and i was actually really encouraged by that
1:04 AM
me: sigh. yeah... i guess one thing that is interesting
is that i never lost faith this time
but it was more just like... getting the wind knocked out of me
like you know, a boxer
the difference between a rookie who gets knocked out and thinks he can't never box no more
and a more seasoned dude who gets KO'd but knows he can go back in
i felt more like that
[Xanga] EPIPHANY (shit hits the fan)
Who hated Jesus's message the most?
Who was it that killed Jesus?
Religion.
"If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the One who sent me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin. Now, however, they have no excuse for their sin." (John 15:20-22)
True followers of Christ are promised the hatred of the world: "friendship with the world is enmity with God" (John 4:4).
If we are really and readily following Christ's example, who is it that will despise us?
Who is them? Who is the world?
Simply: whoever hated Christ.
Not the guilty; not the sinners.
Ought we fear the righteous; may we even rejoice in their censure?
Who was it that killed Jesus?
Religion.
"If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the One who sent me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin. Now, however, they have no excuse for their sin." (John 15:20-22)
True followers of Christ are promised the hatred of the world: "friendship with the world is enmity with God" (John 4:4).
If we are really and readily following Christ's example, who is it that will despise us?
Who is them? Who is the world?
Simply: whoever hated Christ.
Not the guilty; not the sinners.
Ought we fear the righteous; may we even rejoice in their censure?
[Xanga] When I hate the church: my UCW senior testimony
[Prelude: This Sunday, I gave my senior testimony at the United Church of Westville, my home church at Yale.
Senior testimonies are a tradition at UCW; an opportunity for outgoing seniors to think over our time here, reflect on the changes that God's brought about in our lives, and pass along whatever small encouragement or exhortations for living life - at Yale, as well as throughout the rest of our activities and communities - with which we've been entrusted, for those we love. This is the text of my testimony; I departed from it in actual reading, but the intent, thoughts, and spirit is here.]
Senior testimonies are a tradition at UCW; an opportunity for outgoing seniors to think over our time here, reflect on the changes that God's brought about in our lives, and pass along whatever small encouragement or exhortations for living life - at Yale, as well as throughout the rest of our activities and communities - with which we've been entrusted, for those we love. This is the text of my testimony; I departed from it in actual reading, but the intent, thoughts, and spirit is here.]
As an introduction, I have to say this: I love this church. I love most of you here very deeply, and those whom I don’t, I’m sorry. I wish that I did; I know that Jesus, whom I love deeply, loves you deeply, enough to die for you (if he did do what I think he did). My not loving you is not because I think you’re a bad person; If I’ve failed to love you, I’m at fault. I’m a sinner.
Nothing that I say is directed at any individual: I hope nobody feels like I’m trying to single you out or correct your behavior. That’s not my place, and that’s not my hope. This is, to quote Jay-Z on The Blueprint, “just my thoughts; only my thoughts”. When I think back on my time at UCW (and look forward to the future), this is what lies on my heart.
I love this church, the people that you see around you; people who I have loved and who have since graduated; people who aren’t here today, but whose hearts and lives are being and have been changed by the love that is evidenced everyday in this community. That’s why I’m so glad to see people here who are my dear friends, who don’t often – if ever – come to this place: I think it’s a good place. I think it is a place where Jesus is.
I love what I’ve seen in this church and what it can and could be, which is why I also hate being here sometimes.
I’m tired of accepting, of settling, of making excuses for our corporate and individual sins. I’m tired of the hypocrisy, in myself and others, that I’ve seen exposed, in seemingly-never-ending layers. I’m sick of having to see those of us who’ve been privileged enough to experience the greatest love of all be inactive in our community, complacent in our faith, and weak in our spirits. I hate seeing what the church really is: tired, sick, sinful people with selfish, foolish, draining demands. I’ve seen people that I respect give until they’re drained dry; give until they can’t bear to give any more, and still that wasn’t enough to turn the tide. The church is broken; the church is human; But how can it possibly be that we who claim to be presenting the words and life and ministry of Jesus Christ to a needy world so often turn our backs on one another; so often simply disregard the wants and even the needs of others, in favor of platitudes and empty boasts of salvation through our faith? Faith without works is dead; love without obedience and care is merely self-gratification.
Last Easter Sunday, a man came to our service. I don’t know if he was homeless; I do know that he needed money enough to come disrupt our service with his requests for aid. We gave him what we could; some food and, I think, money. It wasn’t enough for him, so he hung around through lunch, asking us to do chores for money, to give him some cash, whatever. He was pretty insistent, a real distraction; an annoyance. But what someone told him was what will stick with me forever: Fed up with the man’s requests for money, one member of the congregation spit out at him: “Why should we help you?”
I hate situations like that, and I think I know why. There are two reasons: First, I hate seeing who people really are, because it reminds me of who I really am. This is who I really am: I wake up in the morning and put on my headphones, then walk down Elm Street to class, thinking at every person that I see: you in my way, and I don’t like you. This is the sinner that I am, that I see reflected in every sin that I see around me, and it saddens me. This is the poorly-hidden skeleton in my closet: I am a jerk, and I don’t like people.
And sometimes this unworthiness... it makes me wish that Jesus hadn't died for me. For us. For any of us.
Because He doesn't deserve this.
He doesn't deserve what we put Him through. I think of me turning my hat down and walking a little faster around the corner with the burrito cart on it so that I don’t have to talk to Annette, the woman many of us call the “flower lady”. I think of lying to Joe, a homeless guy I know, when I have five dollars in my pocket, but I want that money for myself, so even though he hasn’t eaten in two days, and I know he hasn’t, because that dude is skinnier than anyone I know, I lie to him and I tell him that I don’t have any money, because he knows that I normally don’t have money and, besides, he’s so used to asking people for money and getting turned down, plus I know the fact that I looked him in the eye when I lied to him, like he’s a person and not an obstacle on the sidewalk, was enough to assuage my conscience that I did right by him.
How could this be what Jesus meant when he told us: “If you love me, feed my sheep”? How could this possibly be what Jesus died for? How could this spirit that we see among us be what Jesus meant when he said, “My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.”? We’re great at taking freshmen out for meals; for late-night snacks; for trips off-campus. But when it comes to serving someone less interesting, or less fun, or less convenient, or more familiar? Silence.
And I say that I will give my life to serve this church, to build into it, to develop it? Am I stupid? Or just lazy, and I’m trying to soothe my conscience, and, though I don’t like to work for money, I figure I don’t mind working for my salvation; or at least to deceive myself into thinking that I’ve become a new man, a saved man.
Romans 2:15 says “they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them.” I wish my thoughts defended me; I wish “the requirements of the law” were in my heart, but all I hear is the never-ending roar of accusations against me.
I hate this. I hate every time that I see the resignation that I sometimes feel reflected on another’s face. We got accustomed to starting service 5 minutes late, then 10, then 15. I got used to showing up for the early van to church 5 minutes late, then 10, then, hey, I can always catch the second ride. I’ve become resigned to seeing fewer and fewer people turn out for church activities as the semester wears on, because, oh, it’s to be expected; people at Yale are busy, after all. We’re just grateful that people stop by church when they have the time, when there’s not an interview, or a meeting, or a tryout, or too much studying to do, or sleep to catch up on.
And when I sleep through a Bible study or a meeting, hey, it’s okay, we all do it. I’ll do better next time. It seems sometimes that we prioritize everything in our lives over Christ, who fades into some kind of default, wallpapering our schedule: if there’s not an engaging distraction or important meeting, then pursue God; but if there is something actually important, Christ can always wait. After all, there will always be another Bible study; another church service; another service trip; another quiet time; another passage of Scripture. How can this be the Christian life?
Okay. By now, you all get the point that this church, this religion, my sinfulness, they’ve all worn me out. Multiple times. But still, I’m not only committing to spending two more years here, but then three in seminary; then a lifetime in church ministry. This is foolishness; you think it, I admit it. I say it to myself, reproachfully, like I imagine some of you are thinking to yourselves: If the church discourages him so much, he should just shut up, stop whining, and get out of here. Care a little bit less – maybe put a little bit more distance between myself and this community. Why does it matter? After all, we evangelicals are so fond of saying that it’s our “personal relationship with Christ” that matters, and not anything else; why should I let someone else, or even a community of others, stand between me and Christ?
It matters, because I’ve seen what this church can be. What it has been for me; what it could be for others.
At the Thanksgiving service last semester, right before leaving for break, Pastor Kang asked the college students present to introduce ourselves and why we like UCW. That day, I didn’t say that I like UCW; I said that I love UCW, because I have seen God’s love here.
I love UCW; often, I like it. Often, I dislike it. But I love it, because it’s loved me; even more importantly, I’ve seen it love others.
That’s it, really. That’s the only answer that I have. I could retell stories – of walking to the pond at midnight during retreat; walking to East Rock on the coldest morning I’ve ever felt, just to see the Easter sunrise; late nights with Victor, and Ray, and Lee-shing, and many others, talking about whatever; the time I saw Carol during winter break, and it felt so good to see a familiar UCW face; dating Janice, then, even better, no longer dating Janice, but continuing to pray and read the Bible with her and grow in friendship – the list would go on and on, but none of the stories are particularly good, and none of them would be told as well as Dan could tell them.
I’ve been rather discouraged, recently. I’ve been wrestling with the notions of church and Gospel. But that’s not important now, we can discuss that some other time; what’s important is that I’ve been feeling, as I said earlier, that this church that you see before you – these human imperfections – could not possibly be what Jesus wanted His body to be. What He died to establish.
Some of the worst was Saturday afternoon. I was in a Bible study – with Ray, Josh Au, and Eric Klein – and I couldn’t concentrate. The modern church, not to mention UCW in particular, far from the strong reminder of the might of God’s love, seemed like every wrong caricature of Christianity to me. I left early, ran a few errands, then had to head over and lead Alpha Bible Study. I got there and turned on my computer, starting to write this exact testimony. Ten minutes after we were supposed to start, no one was there; I figured this was just another UCW no-show event. No surprise. But then two of the freshmen guys showed up, and we started talking about Christ and Christianity.
Telling them the story of the Church through the ages; of Paul, of Peter, of the law; of Jesus and His parables and healings, made me remember why I love Christ. That they were late didn’t matter; what mattered was, they were here, now, and we were speaking about things that do matter. Then one of the freshmen girls showed up, and we continued to talk; she asked, why Christianity? Why choose this, out of all religions, when there are miracles and goodness and ethics in each? My answer to her was really an answer to myself: it’s not about them being wrong and us being right. It’s about Christ having loved us; so, regardless of what anything else says, I love him back, wherever I find Him.
I love this church, because Christ is love. This community is often loving; but then, often it is not. That doesn’t matter: the same is true of me. What is important is that I have seen the loving spirit of Jesus Christ at work in this community. I see it when I hear Josh Williams tell me about how excited he is about the living faith of Barack Obama; I see it when I see the quiet dedication of Lee-shing and Victor to fulfilling their commitments; I see it when I see Emily taking freshmen out to eat, or Joe Oh basically giving his life up for the Red Cross and Relay and whatever else, despite grumbling about it the whole time.
This church does, and will continue to, disappoint me, sadden me, and shake my faith. A lot. But Christ never does anything but draw me to Him; and He has chosen to make His home in this place. I don’t know why, but I’m thankful that He has. “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” I’m a sinner; We’re all thorough sinners here, in need of full pardons. And this is why I love this church and remain here: not because we’re sinless, but because Christ is, and because He is here. Wherever He is, that’s the only place that I need to find.
[Xanga] A Personal Statement of Faith - Draft
I'd appreciate feedback on any or all of this statement. It's a work in progress - I tried to support most of it Biblically, and address as many issues of faith and doctrine as I could, but I'm certain there are things that I forgot/overlooked/am too ignorant about to have anything to say. It's something I'd always wanted to get around to, and now I'm doing it as part of the materials for raising support for my post-graduation internship in the church.
Personal Statement of Faith
Jesus Christ
I believe that Jesus Christ is and was fully God (John 8:58, Acts 13:38) and fully man, with all human emotions (John 11:35, etc.), limitations, and experiences, having taken ?voluntarily and willingly ?upon himself human form (Phil. 2:7), in order to, in some way, enable fallen men to come before God the Father (John 14:6). I believe that the life of Yeshua bin Yusuf, Jesus the legal son of Joseph, is a historical fact, including his birth to Mary, Joseph wife (Luke 1-2), his life, ministry, death (as related by the Jewish historian Josephus, as well as the four Gospels of the New Testament), resurrection, and ascension (Luke 24). I believe that he will come again at the end of history to judge the living and dead (Revelation 20:11-15).
I believe that Jesus Christ is the Messiah attested to by the Jewish prophets and prefigured by Jewish law. I believe that fulfillment and happiness lies in a personal relationship of gratitude towards, love for, and obedience to Christ (John 14:15). The characterization of Christ and His teachings that I have seen revealed in Scripture, meditation, and prayer is one of peacemaking, love, sacrifice, righteousness, and humility (Matt. 5:1-14). I believe that Christ has been eternally and everlastingly present in relationship with the Father and the Holy Spirit.
I believe that Jesus Christ is the most important element of Christianity: acceptance of the truth of His miraculous birth, life of love and guidance, sacrificial death, and miraculous resurrection and ascension is critical for a Christian believer, second only to a personal understanding and experience of His person (Romans 8:1-8).
God the Father
I believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who created all things (Genesis 1-2), and is omnipresent (Ps. 139:7), omnipotent (Eph. 3:20), and omnibenevolent (Ps. 18:30). I lean towards a limited view of omnipotence (i.e., that omnipotence is limited to those actions logically possible), because I believe that God will, sovereign over all things, allows his willing self-limitation, though I am also open to an unlimited view of omnipotence. I take a skeptical view of open theism, and lean rather towards a belief in an atemporal God, who is not constrained to experiencing and moving through time in the same manner that we do. I believe that shalom (completeness, wholeness, rightness) and goodness are tied to and defined by the character and being of God.
I believe that the perfection of God encompasses many attributes, including (but not limited to) His perfect mercy, grace, love, justice, gentleness, forgiveness, and strength. I believe that God desires for all created beings to be in a loving relationship with Him, through Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 5:21) and the Holy Spirit, and for all creation to give Him praise and rejoice in Him eternally, and that these goals are accomplished through His grace given to mankind (James 1:17).
The Holy Spirit
I believe that the Holy Spirit is and has been present and active in the world (Genesis 1:2), and is so in the hearts and lives of men and women. I believe that the continual indwelling of the Holy Spirit is a gift unique to the Christian believer (Acts 2:18), but that the Spirit may also come upon those who do not have a relationship with Christ (Acts 2:17), in order to stir them to action, reveal truth to them, or otherwise act in their lives. I believe that many functions of the Spirit are revelatory, including revealing sin, the need for salvation, the comfort of belief in Christ, etc. I believe that the Spirit, like Christ and the Father, has been eternally present in relationship to Christ and the Father. At the moment, I hold to no view on the doctrine of procession and the filioque clause, though I recognize the necessity for a Christian in ministry or position of spiritual authority to have understood and acknowledged the historical and theological difficulties associated with that debate, and to have prayerfully considered them.
The Trinity
I believe that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit are simultaneously one being and three entities, the mystery of the three-in-one relationship extant therein uncomprehensible to human minds. I believe that it is fundamentally important to emphasize the monotheism of Christianity and also to emphasize the relational aspect of the three entities within the Trinity, and view as heresy any theology that claims Trinitarianism as a polytheistic doctrine, or the nature of God to be less than three-in-one, or any member of the Trinity to be less than fully God. It is important, too, to emphasize that the Trinity is a Biblical concept (Matt. 28:19). I believe that the Godhead possesses and defines all Good characteristics, including male and female attributes. As such, though I see God as male because of His self-revelation as such through Jesus Christ and Christ descriptions of His Father, I also emphasize the need for a subtle view of gender roles and characteristics of the Godhead (Is. 55:8-9).
Man
I believe that man was created in the image of God , and that the purpose of man existence is to praise God, to e His glory? and to rejoice in Him throughout eternity.
I believe that the fundamental problem of man, and consequently the universe, is sin, defined as ebellion, conscious or unconscious, against the will of God, and pursuit of an end other than the fulfillment of that will?(Isaiah 53:6). I believe that the ultimate origin of sin is one of the unknowable mysteries of the Bible, but fully affirm that God is not, in any way, responsible for its creation. I believe that men are, as a species, sinful (Romans 5:12), but that the sin nature is not essential to man nature, but rather a perversion of the true nature of man, the template of which has only been seen in history in the fully human Jesus Christ (Romans 6:5). I affirm the stewardship of man over all of creation (Gen. 1:28). I believe that man was created with real free will (Deut. 30:16-17), but that this is reconcilable with the sovereignty of God (Eph. 1:4).
I affirm that no man can, by virtue of his own efforts, be blameless before God (Romans 3:23), but that all men may, through an acceptance of Christ sacrifice, find salvation and eventual restoration to an eternal relationship with God (Romans 6:11, John 3:16).
I condemn Gnosticism, and any theology that proclaims humans or the human Christ to be disembodied and only spiritual beings (1 John 5:6): I affirm embodiment as characteristic of humanity, and the fundamental ontology of human beings to be both physical body as well as disembodied soul, both of which are present in our earthly journey and will be present, in a changed form, after the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:35-54).
Other Beings/Angelology and Demonology
I believe that there are such beings as angels (Luke 1:26, Matthew 1:20, Mark 8:38, etc.) and devils (Jude 1:6), including Satan. I believe that all things are created by God. I believe that the primary purpose of angels, as revealed in Scripture, is to present the will or messages of God. I believe that men may be, have been, and used to be tempted, accused, and possessed by demons, but that their powers are limited by the loving will of God. Most of all, however, I acknowledge the scarcity of Biblical information on the subject of angels and demons, and, at the moment, remain hesitant to judge otherwise-Biblical theologies for any particular doctrine of such beings.
Salvation/Soteriology
I believe that salvation, the removal of an individual man or all men from a state of sinfulness and distance from God, was accomplished through the atoning death of Jesus Christ (Hebrews 9:21-28), and is effected in each individual life only through the power of the blood of Christ to place an individual under the aw of the Spirit?(Romans 8:1-2). I lean towards the view that salvation is only effected by a life-changing, conscious understanding of the necessity of Christ death and the subsequent establishment of a personal relationship between the individual and Christ, but remain curious about certain theologies (such as those of Karl Rahner) which proclaim that the gift of Christ sacrifice may be accepted unconsciously in certain special circumstances (especially in consideration of Romans 2:12-16). Above all, I see the Church, in proclaiming the message of Christ death, as God chosen people in this age, to carry the message of salvation throughout the world (Matt. 16:18, Eph. 5:23-27).
I believe that salvation is an internal transformation with external consequences; that, at the moment of salvation, the believer in Christ is justified and sinless in the eyes of God, but that this inward justification will be confirmed by outward signs (James 2:20). I believe that the signs of each inward transformation are highly variable, and cannot be enumerated specifically, but that common to every actually saved believer is a love for God and, thereby, an increasing obedience to and awareness of the fullness of God commandments (John 14:15, 1 John 3:18).
I believe in Heaven as a real place, in the eternal and everlasting presence and glory of God, made beautiful by that presence. I believe in Hell as a place of eeping and gnashing of teeth?(Matt. 13:42, Luke 13:27) and of utter and truest darkness (Jude 1:6). I believe that the ultimate decision regarding salvation is, has been, and always will be dependent on the judgment of God (Rom. 2:16). Regarding any sort of theology of predestination or double predestination, I remain undecided, though I do reassert the sovereignty of God will as an element of any theology.
The Scriptures
I believe that Scripture is God-inspired (literally, od-breathed?, a source of divine revelation, and useful for many types of teaching and learning (2 Tim. 3:16). I affirm the infallibility of Scripture, but draw a distinction between infallibility and inerrancy; I remain undecided on, leaning towards denial of, inerrancy. I believe that any part of Scripture may be understood by anyone, irrespective of their level of understanding or knowledge, through the revelation of the Holy Spirit. Despite this, I believe that it is important for the Christian believer to desire to increase his or her personal understanding of the textual and cultural context of every part of the Bible, because I believe that it is critical for the reader to approach the Bible from a place of humility: in pursuing scriptural revelation, one ought to approach the text with an attitude of humility, eager for correction and teaching, rather than an attitude of pride, eager to see in the Scriptures what the reader has already decided ought to be there, in order to avoid the possibility of subscribing to a self-centred, rather than God-centred, understanding of the Bible.
I believe that the Scriptures were written by sinful, imperfect men, inspired by perfect God, and translated/transcribed by such men. As such, I understand the difficulties inherent in accepting any one translation of the Bible, and suggest that Christians take seriously, and use for reference, the various legitimate competing vernacular texts. I do not think that it is incumbent upon every Christian to achieve any level of understanding of Hebrew or Greek, but affirm that any believer desiring to pursue hermeneutics or Biblical exegesis beyond a basic level should consider strongly pursuing such capabilities.
I have little understanding of the Apocrypha, but lean towards the Protestant view of the Biblical canon: 66 books, with the books of the Apocrypha as useful but non-authoritative works. I strongly believe in the historicity and historical verifiability of the canonical books, and view the Gnostic Gospels and other similar non-canonical works claiming Scriptural status as heretical. I believe that commentaries and other writings can and should be used to gain perspective of the words of Scripture, but that ultimate authority in interpreting Scripture lies in the Holy Spirit.
Prayer
I believe that prayer may take many forms (intercessory, petition, praise, thanksgiving, confession, etc.), but that all prayer is fundamentally a dialogue with God, modeled on the Apostles?Prayer (Matt. 6, Luke 11) laid out by Christ for His disciples. I believe that a strong prayer life includes not only spoken or explicit communications with God, but also extends into the manner and details of one life and daily activities: in such a manner, I believe that one may learn to ray ceaselessly?(1 Thess. 5:17) and thereby be in continual communication with God.
Because of verses such as 1 Thessalonians 5:17 and stories such as those in Daniel 6, I think that prayer is not only beneficial to the Christian believer and a natural complement to his or her theological growth, but that the believer is called to regularly come before God in prayer, as an individual and corporately with others. In fact, I believe that it is in prayer for and with others that the work of the Spirit to create bonds between brothers and sisters of the Church is best done.
I tend to pray to God the Father, but believe that prayers to Christ and the Holy Spirit are not heterodox. I view prayers to Mary, canonized Saints, and any other entities as unbiblical, and am strongly cautious about condoning views of prayer which would see such prayers as an major part of the expression of the Christian faith.
The Church/Ecclesiology
I believe that the writings of the Desert Fathers and early Church leadership should be taken seriously as guides to church polity and governance, but that the ultimate guide to the direction and structure of the Church is the leading of God, revealed to those called as members of the Body of Christ (Eph. 4:4-6).
One area of doctrine that I have been wrestling with over the last two years is that of church structure and definition. I believe that there are two churches: the earthly church, comprised of those who claim to accept Jesus Christ as son of God and Lord of their lives, and the true Church, comprised of those . Not all of those who publicly proclaim to be in the church are truly so (Gal. 2:4), and I think it is possible that there are those who will never proclaim to be in the church who are (Rom. 2). However, I wonder how important a well-defined structure is to the functioning of the Church and the entrance of the Kingdom of Heaven into the hearts and lives of the secular world. On the one hand, I believe that God is a God of precision and exactitude (as demonstrated in Gen. 6, Leviticus, Deuteronomy, etc.), and that this is reflected in His revealed will. On the other hand, I also believe that God reasoning and plans are inscrutable to man (Is. 55:8-9), and that His secret will is thus unknowable. In-part because of this view of God will, I think that it is important to emphasize the need for a historically grounded, highly structured, organized church, adaptive to contemporary needs and worldviews, while also emphasizing the need for a highly flexible parachurch, often less-grounded in church history and organized around specific goals and theological emphases. The question of how to support and be active in both, or which to emphasize over the other, is one on which I still have much thinking to do.
My uncertainty regarding the various ways of structuring the Church also pertains to the ordination of pastors, ministers, and priests. At the very core, I see the role of pastor or Church leader as a God-given ability (Eph. 4:11), to be used for the advancement of the Kingdom of God and the salvation and growth of Christians. The question of the Church role in discovering, nurturing, training, and promoting these gifts is also one on which I desire to spend much time, along with the questions of who ought to be permitted to teach, preach, or be publicly acknowledged as a minister.
I believe that the Church should be present in every day of a believer life, in common prayer, fellowship, eating, worship, and shared experiences (Acts 2:42-47). The Sabbath day of rest, moved from the modern Saturday to Sunday, having been chosen by the historical Catholic church as the day of assembly, should be honored both in order to deepen the fellowship and faith of the individual believer as well as the congregation of all saints as well as to follow a God-ordained model (Heb. 10:25, Mark 2:27, Gen. 2:2).
I believe that many spiritual gifts (1 Cor. 12, Romans 12, Eph. 4) are granted to different individuals. I tend to lean away from charismatic understandings of spiritual gifts, and am partial to a cessationist view, but openly seek further conviction on these matters.
Evangelism
I believe that evangelism ought to be approached as the good proclamation of a good message (eu-, ood?or ell?+ angelos, essenger?or essage?, and that it is among the joyful, central, duties of all believers in Christ (Matt. 28:16-20). I believe that evangelism will take many forms, including lifestyle witness, initiative outreach, ministries within the church, overseas missions, etc (1 Cor. 9:22). Most importantly, however, any form of evangelism is effective only through the grace of God and the work of the Spirit in men lives and hearts.
I also place critical emphasis on the fact that we, as followers of Christ, ought to strive to bring our personal spiritual lives into consistency with our proclamations of the Gospel and the truths revealed to us through prayer, meditation on Scripture, and other believers, in order to present a broad witness of the fullness of the life-changing revelation of salvation.
Justice
Though I deny the view of the ocial gospel?proclaimed in many mainline Catholic, Methodist, Anglican, and other denominational churches, I am strongly convicted that for Christians o be doers of the Word, not hearers only?(James 1:22) involves living lives consistent with the messages we proclaim, including the image and character of God reflected in His Creation, especially in the natural and human worlds, and the radical peacemaking, love, and forgiveness preached by Christ.
Towards this end, I think it important for Christians to understand the continual refrain found in Scripture on serving the poor (Is. 61, Matt. 25:40), disenfranchised (including the targets of racism, socioeconomic discrimination, and age or gender bias), and needy (Luke 6:17), and to commit ourselves to pursue means to do so more and more effectively and lovingly. It is also important for Christians to examine Biblical views of stewardship and understand how those views play into, or sometimes contradict, popular views of environmentalism and conservation.
I am also convicted that, as citizens of various countries and members of various demographics, Christians must also realize that their actions have ramifications on a political scope. I believe firmly that Christians should not buy into partisan views or agendas, but rather emphasize that the political duty of a Christian is motivated by the same factors as all other duties in life: to serve God and demonstrate His character, love, and salvation to all men.
Christianity and Other Religions
I believe that other world religions represent solutions ?at best incomplete, at worst thoroughly wrongheaded ?to the emptiness of a life lived without a personal relationship with God. As such, I believe that there is some grain of truth within each religion, and the duty of Christians in dialogue with believers of other faith traditions is to, through appeal to the Holy Spirit and living Scripture (Heb. 4:12), learn to separate truth from falsehood, in order to affirm the true desires of non-Christian believers while exposing the falsity of claims to salvation or fulfillment that lie outside of Christ.
I believe that Christians ought to approach adherents of other religions with the attitude of Christ (Phil. 2:3-8): to affirm them as worthy creations of God and potential adopted children of God (Eph. 1:5), and, as a result, to approach apologetic and polemic discussions not as an exercise of intellectual or spiritual dominance ("It is a wicked prayer to ask to have someone to hate or to fear, so that he may be someone to conquer." - Augustine, City of God, IV.15), but rather as an opportunity to ive the reason for the hope that you have? with gentleness and respect?(1 Peter 3:15). Throughout such dialogues, I believe that the spirit of the true Redeemer may shine truth and light into the lives of others, drawing them to Himself.
Eschatology
I believe that the end of history, the time of the return of Christ to udge the living and the dead?(as the Apostolic Creed proclaims, from 1 Peter 4:5), is quickly approaching, and has been imminent (1 Thess. 5:2) ever since the Ascension of Christ; that, in fact, the end of history has been looming near throughout the entire age of the Church.
While I do affirm that the end of history will bring with it great torment and sorrow to those who have chosen to live in rebellion towards Christ, I believe to have received enough conviction from my personal meditation on Scripture and relationship with Christ to be significantly troubled by many popularly-held views of the End Times, especially those concerning Rapture. However, due to my theological ignorance on these matters, I am highly interested in a thorough study of the Book of Revelation, in order to further form my doctrines regarding eschatology, prophecy regarding the future, and the like.
The Christian Life
In addition to the other views I have listed above regarding living out the Christian life (in particular, Phil. 2 and Acts 2), I think that the passage in 1 Timothy 3 on the qualifications of a church deacon (v. 8-13) to be excellent guidelines, in general, for the outward actions springing from a repentant and Spirit-filled soul in this age of the Church.
[Xanga] truer words...
Billy: and not focus so much on "what can i DO to serve God today?" but more on "let me give this minute to God and see where it leads me"
Billy: or He leads me
God gives us friends and revelation; often, the two are happily conjoined.
Thanks, Bro
Billy: or He leads me
God gives us friends and revelation; often, the two are happily conjoined.
Thanks, Bro
[Xanga] Christmas carols
...born to raise the sons of earth,
born to give them second birth.
born to give them second birth.
So, I was just watching a Christmas episode of The Simpsons (among many others), and they closed with the entire town of Springfield singing "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing". It got me thinking:
What is it like for a non-Christian to sing a Christmas carol?
And don't get it twisted, like I'm thinking about the entire season in general. I understand how the "holiday season" can be a good time for all, regardless of your specific faith background. And there are songs which are just whatever whatever, like "Deck the Halls" or "Christmas in Hollis" or them likewise joints.
But what about Christmas carols, as in, the real ones? The ones which are specifically and explicitly proclaiming the birth of Christ, the son of God, born that he might die to save the world, and the sinners in it?
God and sinners reconciled
Lines like this seem like they would be less than meaningless to someone who doesn't believe in the Christian faith. And, sure, I can understand how certain melodies can be strongly evocative. But there's a mad difference between how I feel when I hear Ja Rule and Ashanti's ode to vague-commitment, "Always on Time", and a Christmas carol like "O Come All Ye Faithful," something that goes beyond my specific and individual memories of those songs, and accesses a picture of the future, not merely the past.
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing
This is a challenge to me, too, and to all Christians. How easy is it to hear the first few bars of a melody and think, oh hey, i know this song. we used to sing it together at my kindergarten holiday party before winter break. How many times have I, shopping in the mall, heard Christmas carols blaring harshly over the intercom, and let them fade into the chatter and commotion of the background? How many times have I heard those words without listening to them?
How often do I live my life as a Christian without listening to Christ? And how much of Christmas have I let become - as the traditionalist refrain (aka the depressing view of modern Christmas) cries out - a crass celebration of modern materialism and wealth-elitism?
Joy to the world! the Lord is come;
Do we understand Joy? Do we understand that Joy and Christ are one? "Joy to the World" is not saying that there is joy to be found in the world. It is saying precisely the opposite: that Christ has come, and, in doing so, brought Joy, the antithesis of the world's happiness, into a world unprepared for it.How easy is it to say "Joy to the World," and yet to fail to proclaim the name of that Joy! How easy to forget why it is I rejoice.
I'm not interested in no easily-spouted rhyming catchphrases like "Jesus is the reason for the season" or "without Christ there'd be no Christmas", that's not on my level: Amazing rhymes for days anyways, ya dig. But what I am interested in is this: I claim to be a Christian, and to sing
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angels' voices!
And for those who claim to not be Christians (or who actually are not Christians, which is prahlee identical anyways, but Rahner would have something to say about that), what joy do you find in Christmas? I'd really appreciate it if you took some time to think and wonder... why does Jesus's birth matter to a Christian? I'm sure Moonies celebrate the birth of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon, and, i mean, i know people that celebrate TUPAC and ROBERT NESTA MARLEY's birthdays... but is there something different in it for Christians? Does it matter that Christ was born, beyond the fact that he started this whole Christianity ball rolling? I think it does. Why? Just a little reflection. Consider it your Christmas present to me.
- Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
- od is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
- The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
- With peace on earth, good will to men. - I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, 4th stanza
For lo!, the days are hastening on,
By prophet seen of old,
When with the ever-encircling years
Shall come the time foretold
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.- It Came Upon the Midnight Clear, last stanza
[Xanga] A misinformed foray into the camp of Greek.
Especially around this time, people are always talking words about "Peace on Earth and goodwill towards men." But yo, straight up now, tell me, is that necessarily Biblical? The phrase itself, "peace on earth," appears only once in the Bible, and in this far different context: hink not that I am come to send peace on earth. I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to `set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.?(Matt. 10:34) (a verse that is, in itself, highly misunderstood and quoted. Jesus is not a justification for theologies of Empire, people).
Rather, the verse that most people are quoting is this, Luke 2:14: "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased." Nothing about peace on earth, but rather, peace among men on earth. And which men? Only the ones "with whom He is pleased"?
Whaaat?
Nah it doesn't have to be all like that though. Let's go back and break it down. The Greek of Luke 2:14 says this: "doxa en uyistoiV qew kai epi ghV eirhnh en anqrwpoiV eudokiaV."
The first three words are the phrase "glory in the highest", then "qew", that is, the dative of God, "for/to God," so, "Glory in the highest for God," or as it's usually translated, "Glory to God in the highest."
"kai" simply means "and".
"epi ghV " means "on (the) earth".
So, so far what we have is: "Glory to God in the highest, and, on the earth...". Now we fill in the last part, the big part that we're looking at: "eirhnh en anqrwpoiV eudokiaV."
"eirhnh" is a nominative, a subject, meaning "peace".
"en anqrwpoiV" is a prepositional phrase: "anqrwpoiV" is another dative, "for/to men," and "en" is a preposition whose meaning, when combined with a dative is "with", so these two words mean "with men".
"eudokiaV." This is the big one. It's a genitive singular adjective, with the base, "eudokia", meaning "will, choice, good will, benevolence, delight, favor, or desire". And it might be a descriptive genitive, modifying "eirhnh": "Peace, that of good will/favor". It might also be a genitive of means, "Peace, by means of good will, with all men." It might be one of twenty other things, man, the genitive crazy on its different uses. But the point is, it's very possible, if not likely (as far as I understand, which is highly limited) that this "peace on earth, among men" is not as broad or general as we might, in our quieter moments, desire.
I guess all that I'm saying is that we have to be real careful, as Christians, when talking reckless, running our mouths about "peace on earth." Because that is not necessarily what God, through the sacrifice of His Son, has brought about: He brought about peace on earth "en anqrwpoiV eudokiaV." And without a clear understanding of that latter phrase (which will not only rely on careful Greek, but also thorough and mature understanding of other parts of Scripture), one must be very careful when hoping for "peace on Earth," lest one's thoughts turn from "peace on Earth" to the "peace of Earth" (John 14:27).
Rather, the verse that most people are quoting is this, Luke 2:14: "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased." Nothing about peace on earth, but rather, peace among men on earth. And which men? Only the ones "with whom He is pleased"?
Whaaat?
Nah it doesn't have to be all like that though. Let's go back and break it down. The Greek of Luke 2:14 says this: "doxa en uyistoiV qew kai epi ghV eirhnh en anqrwpoiV eudokiaV."
The first three words are the phrase "glory in the highest", then "qew", that is, the dative of God, "for/to God," so, "Glory in the highest for God," or as it's usually translated, "Glory to God in the highest."
"kai" simply means "and".
"epi ghV " means "on (the) earth".
So, so far what we have is: "Glory to God in the highest, and, on the earth...". Now we fill in the last part, the big part that we're looking at: "eirhnh en anqrwpoiV eudokiaV."
"eirhnh" is a nominative, a subject, meaning "peace".
"en anqrwpoiV" is a prepositional phrase: "anqrwpoiV" is another dative, "for/to men," and "en" is a preposition whose meaning, when combined with a dative is "with", so these two words mean "with men".
"eudokiaV." This is the big one. It's a genitive singular adjective, with the base, "eudokia", meaning "will, choice, good will, benevolence, delight, favor, or desire". And it might be a descriptive genitive, modifying "eirhnh": "Peace, that of good will/favor". It might also be a genitive of means, "Peace, by means of good will, with all men." It might be one of twenty other things, man, the genitive crazy on its different uses. But the point is, it's very possible, if not likely (as far as I understand, which is highly limited) that this "peace on earth, among men" is not as broad or general as we might, in our quieter moments, desire.
I guess all that I'm saying is that we have to be real careful, as Christians, when talking reckless, running our mouths about "peace on earth." Because that is not necessarily what God, through the sacrifice of His Son, has brought about: He brought about peace on earth "en anqrwpoiV eudokiaV." And without a clear understanding of that latter phrase (which will not only rely on careful Greek, but also thorough and mature understanding of other parts of Scripture), one must be very careful when hoping for "peace on Earth," lest one's thoughts turn from "peace on Earth" to the "peace of Earth" (John 14:27).
[Xanga] Erasmus got it right?
Erasmus on the soul (psyche), the spirit (pneuma), and the flesh (sarks)
I really like his take on this. Very useful passage, if somewhat outdated.
I really like his take on this. Very useful passage, if somewhat outdated.
[Xanga] "not to baptize, but to preach"
" 17For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not in wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made void." - 1 Corinthians 1:17
It is explicitly not our burden, as individual Christians, to baptize another into the church: baptism of the Holy Spirit is reserved for the saving grace of God's work through Christ's sacrifice.
Rather, what we, as Christians, are to aim for is the propagation of the knowledge of the gospel of Christ's love and sacrifice, that the work of the Holy Spirit might be sought out by those desirous of its efficacy.
It is explicitly not our burden, as individual Christians, to baptize another into the church: baptism of the Holy Spirit is reserved for the saving grace of God's work through Christ's sacrifice.
Rather, what we, as Christians, are to aim for is the propagation of the knowledge of the gospel of Christ's love and sacrifice, that the work of the Holy Spirit might be sought out by those desirous of its efficacy.
[Xanga] Why I am a Christian: an excerpt from correspondence
"...My reasons in short? I think that Christianity is actually true. So I kind of have to follow it... like, if you see a rock flying at your head, that fact forces you to take action. Since I view Christianity as a fact, that fact forces me to take action - to believe.
Long story? I guess what it comes down to is that Christianity satisfies me on two different levels: intellectually and emotionally.
By that, what I mean is: intellectually, I think that Christian theology is satisfying. It provides answers to the questions that I think ought to be answered (Why does evil exist? If he were to exist, what would God be like? What happens after death? What is life? What is perfection), and only fails to provide thorough rational explanations where, I feel, thorough rational explanations are unfair to demand (e.g., explanations of infinity - the nature of God, for example, or the nature of free will - are unfair to require of a religion, or any system of thought, because, by definition, the nature of God lies outside human understanding). In fact, in such cases - where thorough rational explanations are not provided - I think Christianity still provides answers as best as we can understand them.
More importantly, however, I think that Christianity fulfills an emotional longing in me that I have been, no matter how hard I tried, unable to get rid of.
In high school, I was a pretty bitter dude. I mean, I was really smart - probably smarter than I am now - but I was just purposeless, and kind of self-centred. I wanted to be smarter, to improve myself, to become a better person... but why? Because I thought it would make me feel better.
And, you know, it did, for a while. But the thing about "becoming a better person" is that, no matter how much I improved myself physically, mentally, intellectually, whatever, I always discovered that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find security, peace, a guarantee of anything. [More to the point: these desires, I found, were recalcitrant. It would have been one thing if, confronted with the reality of my weak nature - the Nietzschean weak, not fit for the ruling class of the Strong - I could have come to accept my position. But, no matter how many times I found my desires for peace and deep, true, love stymied, I continued to desire them. This recalcitrant longing is a cornerstone of my turn to faith.]
I'd realized pretty young that other people - even those who really loved me, like my family - could be unreliable. But, oh well, cool, I still had myself. But, senior year, I had this string of events where things just went wrong, through no fault of my own. I lost - and you can dismiss this as coincidence, but i really don't feel that it was - a lot of academic competitions, college admissions, and other kinds of contests that I thought (a) were mine to lose and (b) in which I had performed well [; that is to say, I had achieved my own internal expectations, but my expectations of external rewards or achievement were discontinuous with those internal achievements]. So, second semester senior year, I was left with two choices: (1) either there was nothing upon which I could rely, not even myself, and life was meaningless, striving after, ultimately, unfulfilling goals (i.e. nihilism) or (2) there was some entity more reliable than myself, who I could trust to work for the good (i.e. theism). The journey to Christianity from there was not rapid or even immediate, but pretty straightforward. And, the more I learn about this religion, the more I think that it is true: it explains the world around me, the dreams that I have (even when they conflict with that reality of the world), and the human nature that I experience in myself...."
Long story? I guess what it comes down to is that Christianity satisfies me on two different levels: intellectually and emotionally.
By that, what I mean is: intellectually, I think that Christian theology is satisfying. It provides answers to the questions that I think ought to be answered (Why does evil exist? If he were to exist, what would God be like? What happens after death? What is life? What is perfection), and only fails to provide thorough rational explanations where, I feel, thorough rational explanations are unfair to demand (e.g., explanations of infinity - the nature of God, for example, or the nature of free will - are unfair to require of a religion, or any system of thought, because, by definition, the nature of God lies outside human understanding). In fact, in such cases - where thorough rational explanations are not provided - I think Christianity still provides answers as best as we can understand them.
More importantly, however, I think that Christianity fulfills an emotional longing in me that I have been, no matter how hard I tried, unable to get rid of.
In high school, I was a pretty bitter dude. I mean, I was really smart - probably smarter than I am now - but I was just purposeless, and kind of self-centred. I wanted to be smarter, to improve myself, to become a better person... but why? Because I thought it would make me feel better.
And, you know, it did, for a while. But the thing about "becoming a better person" is that, no matter how much I improved myself physically, mentally, intellectually, whatever, I always discovered that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find security, peace, a guarantee of anything. [More to the point: these desires, I found, were recalcitrant. It would have been one thing if, confronted with the reality of my weak nature - the Nietzschean weak, not fit for the ruling class of the Strong - I could have come to accept my position. But, no matter how many times I found my desires for peace and deep, true, love stymied, I continued to desire them. This recalcitrant longing is a cornerstone of my turn to faith.]
I'd realized pretty young that other people - even those who really loved me, like my family - could be unreliable. But, oh well, cool, I still had myself. But, senior year, I had this string of events where things just went wrong, through no fault of my own. I lost - and you can dismiss this as coincidence, but i really don't feel that it was - a lot of academic competitions, college admissions, and other kinds of contests that I thought (a) were mine to lose and (b) in which I had performed well [; that is to say, I had achieved my own internal expectations, but my expectations of external rewards or achievement were discontinuous with those internal achievements]. So, second semester senior year, I was left with two choices: (1) either there was nothing upon which I could rely, not even myself, and life was meaningless, striving after, ultimately, unfulfilling goals (i.e. nihilism) or (2) there was some entity more reliable than myself, who I could trust to work for the good (i.e. theism). The journey to Christianity from there was not rapid or even immediate, but pretty straightforward. And, the more I learn about this religion, the more I think that it is true: it explains the world around me, the dreams that I have (even when they conflict with that reality of the world), and the human nature that I experience in myself...."
[Xanga] my heart
There are so many whose lives and sorrows cry out for God, and I have such little ability to reach them!
The balm of Gilead, the spring of living water, lies so far out of the reach of my fumbling tongue; out of our tongues, as Christians. I desire so greatly for those I love to receive the sweet respite I have found, but the only way I have found - that which I profess willingly and gladly to be the only way - is that which is "despised and rejected by men" (Is. 53:3). And I feel an infinitesimal portion of the sorrow of Christ, crying, "Father, forgive them! For they know not who they reject!" I cannot understand how he could bear it: that those He loved would reject Him Himself. And this is additional, added onto the physical and spiritual sufferings of Christ in His dark, lonely night. If only I could know the burdens of the suffering servant, the purity of the spotless lamb!
Can you understand? I deeply hope that you do. My sadness does not stem from an intellectual or social condescension towards those whose steps have carried them away from Christ's sacrifice, turning from the blood and water (John 19:34) flowing from the broken sin offering; I'm sorrowful over my sinful ineptitude, as I regard my foolish uselessness, as I consider my self-sustained crippling of God's Spirit. What is man, that He would choose us as agents of salvation? What am I? As men, we have turned away from our Father; and I am the worst of these wanderers, because I hear His calling and still seek ways to break free of that which has brought me life everlasting.
I desire so greatly to be a comfort to my friends, but the only advice that I have to offer, the only easement of suffering that I have found, is precisely the one that is a stumbling block, foolishness in their eyes (1 Cor. 1:23) . For my only advice is to turn and look at the Cross, and be bathed in the grace and mercy of the Lamb. And those words, save for the Spirit speaking through them, are less than nothing; they are sinful words of a sinful man. Why can't I do more; or, if as ineffective as man is, why are we still granted the awesome experience of the love of Christ flowing through us?
So, I can't - and oughtn't - stop loving my friends and being there for them, but it's so disappointing - despair-inducing, were it not for the comfort of the Comforter - that the only aid I can give them is, ultimately, insubstantial and only my own, bereft of the power of Christ save when He who is within me chooses to flow out of me. If only I could have this experience every day! If only, by prayer, fasting, lamentation, meditation, study, and devotion, I could forcibly create in myself the experience of God. But that's not how it works, nor, were it possible to make it so, would it be beneficial, in any sense, for the Spirit to be summoned like some genie in a bottle; my prayer is only that the Lord would change my heart to desire Him in every way. That he would use me, that I would have the strength and devotion to be, in every part and way, surrendered up to Him.
Oh God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
The balm of Gilead, the spring of living water, lies so far out of the reach of my fumbling tongue; out of our tongues, as Christians. I desire so greatly for those I love to receive the sweet respite I have found, but the only way I have found - that which I profess willingly and gladly to be the only way - is that which is "despised and rejected by men" (Is. 53:3). And I feel an infinitesimal portion of the sorrow of Christ, crying, "Father, forgive them! For they know not who they reject!" I cannot understand how he could bear it: that those He loved would reject Him Himself. And this is additional, added onto the physical and spiritual sufferings of Christ in His dark, lonely night. If only I could know the burdens of the suffering servant, the purity of the spotless lamb!
Can you understand? I deeply hope that you do. My sadness does not stem from an intellectual or social condescension towards those whose steps have carried them away from Christ's sacrifice, turning from the blood and water (John 19:34) flowing from the broken sin offering; I'm sorrowful over my sinful ineptitude, as I regard my foolish uselessness, as I consider my self-sustained crippling of God's Spirit. What is man, that He would choose us as agents of salvation? What am I? As men, we have turned away from our Father; and I am the worst of these wanderers, because I hear His calling and still seek ways to break free of that which has brought me life everlasting.
I desire so greatly to be a comfort to my friends, but the only advice that I have to offer, the only easement of suffering that I have found, is precisely the one that is a stumbling block, foolishness in their eyes (1 Cor. 1:23) . For my only advice is to turn and look at the Cross, and be bathed in the grace and mercy of the Lamb. And those words, save for the Spirit speaking through them, are less than nothing; they are sinful words of a sinful man. Why can't I do more; or, if as ineffective as man is, why are we still granted the awesome experience of the love of Christ flowing through us?
So, I can't - and oughtn't - stop loving my friends and being there for them, but it's so disappointing - despair-inducing, were it not for the comfort of the Comforter - that the only aid I can give them is, ultimately, insubstantial and only my own, bereft of the power of Christ save when He who is within me chooses to flow out of me. If only I could have this experience every day! If only, by prayer, fasting, lamentation, meditation, study, and devotion, I could forcibly create in myself the experience of God. But that's not how it works, nor, were it possible to make it so, would it be beneficial, in any sense, for the Spirit to be summoned like some genie in a bottle; my prayer is only that the Lord would change my heart to desire Him in every way. That he would use me, that I would have the strength and devotion to be, in every part and way, surrendered up to Him.
Oh God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
[Xanga] Epistemic grounds for the recalcitrance of sin: the impossibility of a saving self-perfection
(Please comment and critique. This is poorly and quickly written and I haven't thought through my defense of it at all yet. This is only a sketch of a theory, not a discussion yet; to fully assert this, I need to engage with opposing views, so long as they remain within the boundaries of my premises.)
Abstract: I argue that sinlessness can never be achieved by a human will, for the epistemic reason that our willing, even if both efficacious and capable of independent action, will never have a complete knowledge of our sin upon which to act.
A system of thought into which it is common to fall is that of the Pelagians: specifically, their belief that we are responsible, once our sinful condition is brought to light, for our own salvation and the accompanying purge of sinful actions from our character and nature. This proposition is commonly thought to be a heresy, and I intend here to provide an epistemological argument affirming this view of it. I have never come across this argument before, but that does not necessarily make it novel; regardless, I will either be presenting a new argument or re-presenting a classical argument in new language.
I take as premises an absolutely sinful nature, "sinful" defined as "diverging from God's will" (whether inherited as "original sin" or come-into as an "adopted maxim"), man as a willing and willful agent, the limited nature of man, and the infinite nature of God.
The intransigent nature of man is as a sinful creature, whether metaphysically inherited in our common substance or chosen willfully at some time during youth (see Psalm 51:5). The opposite is experientially untenable: I know of no one who would claim that, under the standards given in Scripture (see Matthew 5), they are or have ever come across an individual above the age of accountability who is sinless. Regardless, it is highly attractive - if not even intuitive - to assert* what I will call a "quasi-Pelagian" doctrine of salvation: that, when the reality of sinfulness is revealed to us, and, opposed to it, a Godly moral code outlined, it is possible for me to, under my own willing and through my own actions, reject that sinfulness and adopt that moral code, thereby removing the grounds for condemnation from myself and achieving some sort of standard of good living that restores me to my original condition, as I would have been pre-fall.
I disagree with "quasi-Pelagian" salvation, attractive though it may seem. This view essentially asserts two propositions: one of volition (i.e., "I can actually desire not to be sinful") and one of knowledge (i.e., "I can actually know my sinful condition"). Many arguments against this view reject it from the implausibility of volition and efficacity: that is, it is impossible for me, unaided, to actually will against committing sin (supported by Romans 7:15-16). And, even if I can desire not to sin, that desire fails to be efficacious: it fails to actually motivate me to reject sin.
However, I think that another argument can be raised against "quasi-Pelagian" salvation, grounded in the implausibility of knowledge: I find epistemic grounds for our continued existence in a sinful condition, even granting a volition to exist in a sinless condition. My reasoning is as such:
In (2), I claim that God is absolutely good (which obtains, from the definition of "good" as "adhering to the will of God") and omniscient (as a premise). In (3), I claim that man is absolutely sinful and not omniscient (both premises). Because our sin is absolute, it is an absolute truth, so, (3b).
(4) follows from the definition of an absolute truth (Def.1), that man is not omniscient (3), and that our sin is an absolute truth (3b).
(5) is a claim that salvation is constituted by a restoration of the will to full concordance with God's own. I think that this is a relatively uncontroversial claim.
Finally, (6) follows from (4) and (5): since we do not know our sin fully (4), we cannot know how to reject it in full and, at best, reject it in part, which fails to satisfy (5), the criteria for salvation.
To illustrate, it may help to separate actions into four categories, along two axes: known-unknown and moral-immoral. As such, there are four kinds of actions: knowingly moral, unknowingly moral, knowingly immoral, and unknowingly immoral. As any good Calvinist would immediately say in response, we can deny the possibility of there actually existing moral actions, due to the taint of sin in our motivations. But this is not even necessary for my argument: let's imagine, for the time being, that moral actions can exist. Still, there remain the two sorts of immoral actions condemning us. Even if our will is independent and efficacious (that is, that we can actually independently will ourselves to adopt a maxim of action, and then do so), then willing to reject sinful actions only gets rid of knowingly sinful actions. There still remain those cases of unknowing sin to condemn us. Humanity, before the fall (whether a personal fall or a prehistorical fall), was in compliance in toto with the will of God, even unconsciously and uncomprehendingly (i.e. in the absolute sense). After the fall, the best possible state we can hope to achieve under our own power is less than this: we can comply with the will of God only so far as we are cognizant of it, in a human and limited, and not absolute, sense.
This is why I term sin "recalcitrant": regardless of how thoroughly an individual rejects his sin, his will still remains sinful. Self-perfection only permeates through the set of human truths; it fails to motivate (because it cannot) an alteration of one's actions motivated by the adoption of absolute truths. This is why "quasi-Pelagian" views of salvation fail to satisfy the criteria for salvation: they restore our will only partly to that of God. We still remain in unconscious and uncomprehending divergence from his will, simply because we cannot know the true richness and depth of that Godly will. The only agent that can possibly act to restore us in whole to the will of God is an agent that has two qualities: (1) transformative power in our own lives, and (2) thorough comprehension of the will and character of God.
Afterthoughts:
*And, I think, even if we do not adopt this view in our theology, it can be tempting, in our weaker moments of self-confidence, to fall prey to such denials of our deep depravity.
**By "absolutely sinful", I mean, "sinful on every level of understanding," and that requires arguing that our adoption of a sinful maxim corrupts us on every level of understanding, even those to which our intellects are insensitive.
Abstract: I argue that sinlessness can never be achieved by a human will, for the epistemic reason that our willing, even if both efficacious and capable of independent action, will never have a complete knowledge of our sin upon which to act.
A system of thought into which it is common to fall is that of the Pelagians: specifically, their belief that we are responsible, once our sinful condition is brought to light, for our own salvation and the accompanying purge of sinful actions from our character and nature. This proposition is commonly thought to be a heresy, and I intend here to provide an epistemological argument affirming this view of it. I have never come across this argument before, but that does not necessarily make it novel; regardless, I will either be presenting a new argument or re-presenting a classical argument in new language.
I take as premises an absolutely sinful nature, "sinful" defined as "diverging from God's will" (whether inherited as "original sin" or come-into as an "adopted maxim"), man as a willing and willful agent, the limited nature of man, and the infinite nature of God.
The intransigent nature of man is as a sinful creature, whether metaphysically inherited in our common substance or chosen willfully at some time during youth (see Psalm 51:5). The opposite is experientially untenable: I know of no one who would claim that, under the standards given in Scripture (see Matthew 5), they are or have ever come across an individual above the age of accountability who is sinless. Regardless, it is highly attractive - if not even intuitive - to assert* what I will call a "quasi-Pelagian" doctrine of salvation: that, when the reality of sinfulness is revealed to us, and, opposed to it, a Godly moral code outlined, it is possible for me to, under my own willing and through my own actions, reject that sinfulness and adopt that moral code, thereby removing the grounds for condemnation from myself and achieving some sort of standard of good living that restores me to my original condition, as I would have been pre-fall.
I disagree with "quasi-Pelagian" salvation, attractive though it may seem. This view essentially asserts two propositions: one of volition (i.e., "I can actually desire not to be sinful") and one of knowledge (i.e., "I can actually know my sinful condition"). Many arguments against this view reject it from the implausibility of volition and efficacity: that is, it is impossible for me, unaided, to actually will against committing sin (supported by Romans 7:15-16). And, even if I can desire not to sin, that desire fails to be efficacious: it fails to actually motivate me to reject sin.
However, I think that another argument can be raised against "quasi-Pelagian" salvation, grounded in the implausibility of knowledge: I find epistemic grounds for our continued existence in a sinful condition, even granting a volition to exist in a sinless condition. My reasoning is as such:
1) There exist absolute truths, and there may exist human truths.
Def.1) Absolute truths are those with layers of meaning on every level of understanding and, therefore, they cannot be fully understood by even an ideal human intellect.
Def.2) Human truths are those truths with layers of meaning only on those levels of understanding accessible to human minds: therefore, they may be understood by an ideal human intellect.
2) God is absolutely good and omniscient.
3) Man is absolutely sinful**, and not omniscient.
3) Man is absolutely sinful**, and not omniscient.
3b) Our sin is an absolute truth.
4) (from Def.1, 3, and 3b) Man is unable to fully understand his own sin.
5) Salvation requires a return to a fully sinless state.
6) (from 4 and 5) Man is unable to effect his own salvation.
Going point-by-point: in (1) I claim that there are absolute truths and human truths, distinguished primarily in that absolute truths cannot be grasped by even an ideal human intellect, while human truths can be. I think that this is a given, if one allows for the existence of God as infinite and man as finite: If God is infinite, there must be categories of knowledge which are available to him and not to us. Truths which fall into these categories are absolute. All other truths (if there even do exist non-absolute truths) are human truths.5) Salvation requires a return to a fully sinless state.
6) (from 4 and 5) Man is unable to effect his own salvation.
In (2), I claim that God is absolutely good (which obtains, from the definition of "good" as "adhering to the will of God") and omniscient (as a premise). In (3), I claim that man is absolutely sinful and not omniscient (both premises). Because our sin is absolute, it is an absolute truth, so, (3b).
(4) follows from the definition of an absolute truth (Def.1), that man is not omniscient (3), and that our sin is an absolute truth (3b).
(5) is a claim that salvation is constituted by a restoration of the will to full concordance with God's own. I think that this is a relatively uncontroversial claim.
Finally, (6) follows from (4) and (5): since we do not know our sin fully (4), we cannot know how to reject it in full and, at best, reject it in part, which fails to satisfy (5), the criteria for salvation.
To illustrate, it may help to separate actions into four categories, along two axes: known-unknown and moral-immoral. As such, there are four kinds of actions: knowingly moral, unknowingly moral, knowingly immoral, and unknowingly immoral. As any good Calvinist would immediately say in response, we can deny the possibility of there actually existing moral actions, due to the taint of sin in our motivations. But this is not even necessary for my argument: let's imagine, for the time being, that moral actions can exist. Still, there remain the two sorts of immoral actions condemning us. Even if our will is independent and efficacious (that is, that we can actually independently will ourselves to adopt a maxim of action, and then do so), then willing to reject sinful actions only gets rid of knowingly sinful actions. There still remain those cases of unknowing sin to condemn us. Humanity, before the fall (whether a personal fall or a prehistorical fall), was in compliance in toto with the will of God, even unconsciously and uncomprehendingly (i.e. in the absolute sense). After the fall, the best possible state we can hope to achieve under our own power is less than this: we can comply with the will of God only so far as we are cognizant of it, in a human and limited, and not absolute, sense.
This is why I term sin "recalcitrant": regardless of how thoroughly an individual rejects his sin, his will still remains sinful. Self-perfection only permeates through the set of human truths; it fails to motivate (because it cannot) an alteration of one's actions motivated by the adoption of absolute truths. This is why "quasi-Pelagian" views of salvation fail to satisfy the criteria for salvation: they restore our will only partly to that of God. We still remain in unconscious and uncomprehending divergence from his will, simply because we cannot know the true richness and depth of that Godly will. The only agent that can possibly act to restore us in whole to the will of God is an agent that has two qualities: (1) transformative power in our own lives, and (2) thorough comprehension of the will and character of God.
Afterthoughts:
*And, I think, even if we do not adopt this view in our theology, it can be tempting, in our weaker moments of self-confidence, to fall prey to such denials of our deep depravity.
**By "absolutely sinful", I mean, "sinful on every level of understanding," and that requires arguing that our adoption of a sinful maxim corrupts us on every level of understanding, even those to which our intellects are insensitive.
[Xanga] "atheism"?
What does it mean to be an atheist?
If I am living in a predominantly Christian country, the statement "I am an atheist" seems to very likely equate to the statement "I do not believe in the Christian god", or perhaps, "I believe that the Christian god does not exist," largely because the only conception of god to which I may have been properly exposed (at least, to the level at which I feel comfortable rejecting it) is the Christian conception.
But, if I am living in a predominantly Hindu country, the same statement seems to equate to "I do not believe in the Hindu god(s)," or, "I believe that the Hindu god(s) do not exist," for much the same reason.
To generalize: for atheist thinker T exposed to a set of n religions R: {R1, R2, ..., Rn}, to the degree of being comfortable rejecting them, T's statement "I am an atheist" actually equates to proposition A1: "I believe that god, as defined in any member of R, does not exist" (the former reading, "I do not believe in..." is treated below).
If this reading is true, the atheist claim A1 is merely a specialized form of agnosticism, which identifies the negative aspects of (a possible-existing) god: it leaves open the possibility of belief in "god, as not defined in any member of R." In fact, A1 is a stronger claim about the nature and character of god (as Maimonides might point out) than an agnostic view wants to admit: in labelling (possibly-existing) god with negative characteristics (eg., "if god exists, he is nothing like such-and-such a religion's conception of god"), such an atheist runs the risk of ascribing characteristics (albeit negative) to god, and thus subconsciously accepting a certain definition of god (if he exists), opposed to the agnostic claim that god (who may or may not exist) is unknowable and indefinable in character and attributes (both positive and negative).
But my intuition on this may be off, and perhaps the claim "I am an atheist" is actually the claim A2: "Any god, conceivable or inconceivable to me, conceived or not conceived by me, does not exist." However, there are still problems with this statement: primarily, it seems unreasonably difficult to support a proposition regarding an entity that is explicitly inconceived by the speaker (because of limits either anthropological or epistemological in nature). Perhaps what is actually being claimed is A3: the denial of the possibility of knowledge of or belief in that entity described in A2. But in asserting A3, we find ourselves back at agnosticism, for this is not actually a claim regarding god, but rather a claim regarding the limits of our own knowledge. Moreover, it is a claim which seems unintuitive, and not actually the natural interpretation of the self-descriptive statement in question.
All three interpretations of the atheist statement seem problematic: A1 and A3 reduce atheism to a special (and even perhaps weakened) form of agnosticism. A2 differentiates itself from the agnostic claim, but does so by making a claim that seems both unsupported and irrationally accepted.
Boris responds:
"...[1] In short, you really should seek an analogy between the atheistic/God claims and Higgs boson/AIDS vaccine. Perhaps a better example is a "negative" or "nonexistence" claim, like the late 19th/early 20th century claim "the ether does not exist".
Or for another example, "God does not exist" should be similar to "a (living) jackalope does not exist on Earth".
[2] And, of course, if your argument is correct, what is wrong with atheism being a special sort of agnosticism?..."
I respond:
(1) I agree that the nonexistence claim A2 is the strongest reading of the statement but, at the same time, it's also the most difficult claim to stake. You're right that I should explore further the analogy between god and a Higgs boson, etc.
And one of the things that I find when exploring the analogy between "a god" and "the ether" is that, no, i'm actually uncomfortable in staking the claim that "the ether in no way exists: whether in a way conceivable or not, conceived or not," simply because I'm not that confident in the ability of the human mind to rule out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the existence of many things. I realize that this may cause problems with the positive assertions of theism (and thus I may be actually indirectly advocating agnosticism, through rendering both atheism and theism rationally undesirable), but I think that those problems (a) exist anyways, and so I am merely noting, not promoting, them, and (b) can be answered on the part of theism (in short: that theism is, in its best form, a "relation of the finite to the infinite" and thus defiant of rationality).
I find a fundamental difference between a jackalope (living or dead) and god (existing or not) being that the actual existence of the jackalope compels absolutely no reaction on my part, whereas the actual existence of a god may very possibly necessitate some sort of reaction on my part. To be more specific: The existence of jackalopes, Higgs bosons, or AIDS vaccines, are propositions of actual existence (PE with general form "entity X actually exists/has existed/will exist in the real world," and its negation). (This is undeniably loose categorization, and it would be good for me to rigorously categorize PE, because actually there are several propositional types that fall under PE, differentiated according to temporal and metaphysical status: "Jackalopes have never existed," "Higgs bosons cannot exist," "An AIDS vaccine will never exist").
There is strong evidence to believe, however, that the existence of god entails not only claims of the sort that fall under PE, but also metaphysical and moral propositions. I think that the analogy is at least as properly drawn between "God exists" and "Murder is morally wrong," as between "God exists" and "The United Kingdom exists," and possibly even more properly.
(2) I don't think there's anything wrong, per se, in atheism being agnosticism: but that doesn't make it a meaningless statement. Rather, what makes it an interesting claim, is that people are identifying themselves, or others, as believing in atheism, and that has certain ramifications. Rather than this, I'd prefer we "call them like we see them".
Just because "Judaism actually turns out to be equivalent to Zoroastrianism" isn't necessarily bad for Judaism or for Zoroastrianism doesn't mean it's meaningless to state and support that claim: it may affect those claiming to be Jews, when they understand the reality of their assertions. Someone may be completely comfortable with Judaism, as he conceives of it, but strongly averse to Zoroastrianism (and rightly so): the realization that asserting the tenets of Judaism entails some degree of acceptance of Zoroastrianism may lead him away from Judaism. Likewise, if someone is thinking to herself "I am an atheist!", and thinks that she can, as a result of this, prima facie rule out any notion or concept of God as obtaining, the realization that the proposition she asserts by claiming "I am an atheist" does not actually grant her the right to claim "and therefore the existence of God is false," might lead theoretically to a shift in her metaphysics and, pragmatically, make her receptive (and here's where I put on my normative-Christian-belief hat) to her experiencing God in a way that defies both explanation and doubt (but might be rejected under the assumptions of her atheism).
If I am living in a predominantly Christian country, the statement "I am an atheist" seems to very likely equate to the statement "I do not believe in the Christian god", or perhaps, "I believe that the Christian god does not exist," largely because the only conception of god to which I may have been properly exposed (at least, to the level at which I feel comfortable rejecting it) is the Christian conception.
But, if I am living in a predominantly Hindu country, the same statement seems to equate to "I do not believe in the Hindu god(s)," or, "I believe that the Hindu god(s) do not exist," for much the same reason.
To generalize: for atheist thinker T exposed to a set of n religions R: {R1, R2, ..., Rn}, to the degree of being comfortable rejecting them, T's statement "I am an atheist" actually equates to proposition A1: "I believe that god, as defined in any member of R, does not exist" (the former reading, "I do not believe in..." is treated below).
If this reading is true, the atheist claim A1 is merely a specialized form of agnosticism, which identifies the negative aspects of (a possible-existing) god: it leaves open the possibility of belief in "god, as not defined in any member of R." In fact, A1 is a stronger claim about the nature and character of god (as Maimonides might point out) than an agnostic view wants to admit: in labelling (possibly-existing) god with negative characteristics (eg., "if god exists, he is nothing like such-and-such a religion's conception of god"), such an atheist runs the risk of ascribing characteristics (albeit negative) to god, and thus subconsciously accepting a certain definition of god (if he exists), opposed to the agnostic claim that god (who may or may not exist) is unknowable and indefinable in character and attributes (both positive and negative).
But my intuition on this may be off, and perhaps the claim "I am an atheist" is actually the claim A2: "Any god, conceivable or inconceivable to me, conceived or not conceived by me, does not exist." However, there are still problems with this statement: primarily, it seems unreasonably difficult to support a proposition regarding an entity that is explicitly inconceived by the speaker (because of limits either anthropological or epistemological in nature). Perhaps what is actually being claimed is A3: the denial of the possibility of knowledge of or belief in that entity described in A2. But in asserting A3, we find ourselves back at agnosticism, for this is not actually a claim regarding god, but rather a claim regarding the limits of our own knowledge. Moreover, it is a claim which seems unintuitive, and not actually the natural interpretation of the self-descriptive statement in question.
All three interpretations of the atheist statement seem problematic: A1 and A3 reduce atheism to a special (and even perhaps weakened) form of agnosticism. A2 differentiates itself from the agnostic claim, but does so by making a claim that seems both unsupported and irrationally accepted.
Boris responds:
"...[1] In short, you really should seek an analogy between the atheistic/God claims and Higgs boson/AIDS vaccine. Perhaps a better example is a "negative" or "nonexistence" claim, like the late 19th/early 20th century claim "the ether does not exist".
Or for another example, "God does not exist" should be similar to "a (living) jackalope does not exist on Earth".
[2] And, of course, if your argument is correct, what is wrong with atheism being a special sort of agnosticism?..."
I respond:
(1) I agree that the nonexistence claim A2 is the strongest reading of the statement but, at the same time, it's also the most difficult claim to stake. You're right that I should explore further the analogy between god and a Higgs boson, etc.
And one of the things that I find when exploring the analogy between "a god" and "the ether" is that, no, i'm actually uncomfortable in staking the claim that "the ether in no way exists: whether in a way conceivable or not, conceived or not," simply because I'm not that confident in the ability of the human mind to rule out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the existence of many things. I realize that this may cause problems with the positive assertions of theism (and thus I may be actually indirectly advocating agnosticism, through rendering both atheism and theism rationally undesirable), but I think that those problems (a) exist anyways, and so I am merely noting, not promoting, them, and (b) can be answered on the part of theism (in short: that theism is, in its best form, a "relation of the finite to the infinite" and thus defiant of rationality).
I find a fundamental difference between a jackalope (living or dead) and god (existing or not) being that the actual existence of the jackalope compels absolutely no reaction on my part, whereas the actual existence of a god may very possibly necessitate some sort of reaction on my part. To be more specific: The existence of jackalopes, Higgs bosons, or AIDS vaccines, are propositions of actual existence (PE with general form "entity X actually exists/has existed/will exist in the real world," and its negation). (This is undeniably loose categorization, and it would be good for me to rigorously categorize PE, because actually there are several propositional types that fall under PE, differentiated according to temporal and metaphysical status: "Jackalopes have never existed," "Higgs bosons cannot exist," "An AIDS vaccine will never exist").
There is strong evidence to believe, however, that the existence of god entails not only claims of the sort that fall under PE, but also metaphysical and moral propositions. I think that the analogy is at least as properly drawn between "God exists" and "Murder is morally wrong," as between "God exists" and "The United Kingdom exists," and possibly even more properly.
(2) I don't think there's anything wrong, per se, in atheism being agnosticism: but that doesn't make it a meaningless statement. Rather, what makes it an interesting claim, is that people are identifying themselves, or others, as believing in atheism, and that has certain ramifications. Rather than this, I'd prefer we "call them like we see them".
Just because "Judaism actually turns out to be equivalent to Zoroastrianism" isn't necessarily bad for Judaism or for Zoroastrianism doesn't mean it's meaningless to state and support that claim: it may affect those claiming to be Jews, when they understand the reality of their assertions. Someone may be completely comfortable with Judaism, as he conceives of it, but strongly averse to Zoroastrianism (and rightly so): the realization that asserting the tenets of Judaism entails some degree of acceptance of Zoroastrianism may lead him away from Judaism. Likewise, if someone is thinking to herself "I am an atheist!", and thinks that she can, as a result of this, prima facie rule out any notion or concept of God as obtaining, the realization that the proposition she asserts by claiming "I am an atheist" does not actually grant her the right to claim "and therefore the existence of God is false," might lead theoretically to a shift in her metaphysics and, pragmatically, make her receptive (and here's where I put on my normative-Christian-belief hat) to her experiencing God in a way that defies both explanation and doubt (but might be rejected under the assumptions of her atheism).
[Xanga] Re: Catholic Church turns away fine people who are gay
Submitted to the Wilmington, Delaware News Journal November 24, 2006.
I write regarding Jim and Sheila Batty's November 19th letter opposing Catholic indictments of homosexuality, specifically attacking their characterization of the stance against homosexuality as a "disorder."
The diction of the Battys' letter reveals two systematic errors: that condemning homosexuality damns their son "just for being who he is, and that the Church's charge is "bring[ing] people back to the faith."
The Battys implicitly view their son as homosexual, not as a person with homosexual desires. The church does not indict him: Scriptural condemnation is of sin, not of persons. The Battys forget that "loving the sinner" does not imply "loving the sin."
The Church condemns homosexuality not to save the unbeliever, but to present Biblical doctrine (e.g., Romans 1:26). The goal of such proclamations is not disenfranchisement, but dissemination of Scripture. As Augustine of Hippo wrote, the church is "[charged] to feed [God's] sheep."
Saying "the church hierarchy is making judgments" implies that judgments fall outside clerical oversight. But what is the church other than a caretaker of statutes drawn from Scripture? To strip the indwelling Holy Spirit of its "judg[ing] the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12) enfeebles its work of creating "approved workmen" (2Tim. 2:15).
-Jason G.L. Chu; New Haven, CT.
Original letter reproduced below:
"Catholic Church turns away fine people who are gay
We are writing regarding the latest indictment of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community by the U.S. Conference Of Catholic Bishops and the Catholic Church. As Catholic parents of a gay son, it is difficult for us to believe that our church would turn our son away just for being who he is.
We do not consider our son to be disordered because of his sexual orientation. We find him to be a fine gentleman with a terrific job, a loving and kind individual. Apparently only heterosexual individuals are allowed to participate fully in their faith.
If there is any disorder, it is the stance of the Catholic Church. Discrimination should not be considered a Catholic family value. The Lord was inclusive, not exclusive.
By making these statements, the church hierarchy is making judgments. In the Catholic Church's efforts to bring people back to the faith, they are turning more away.
Jim and Sheila Batty, Wilmington"
Originally printed November 19, 2006, in the Wilminton, Delaware News Journal, online archive available.
I think there are other theological misunderstandings regarding condemnation, the nature of the church, and the nature of justice, that were contained in the original letter, but due to length constraints (200 words), I was unable to address them above.
I write regarding Jim and Sheila Batty's November 19th letter opposing Catholic indictments of homosexuality, specifically attacking their characterization of the stance against homosexuality as a "disorder."
The diction of the Battys' letter reveals two systematic errors: that condemning homosexuality damns their son "just for being who he is, and that the Church's charge is "bring[ing] people back to the faith."
The Battys implicitly view their son as homosexual, not as a person with homosexual desires. The church does not indict him: Scriptural condemnation is of sin, not of persons. The Battys forget that "loving the sinner" does not imply "loving the sin."
The Church condemns homosexuality not to save the unbeliever, but to present Biblical doctrine (e.g., Romans 1:26). The goal of such proclamations is not disenfranchisement, but dissemination of Scripture. As Augustine of Hippo wrote, the church is "[charged] to feed [God's] sheep."
Saying "the church hierarchy is making judgments" implies that judgments fall outside clerical oversight. But what is the church other than a caretaker of statutes drawn from Scripture? To strip the indwelling Holy Spirit of its "judg[ing] the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12) enfeebles its work of creating "approved workmen" (2Tim. 2:15).
-Jason G.L. Chu; New Haven, CT.
Original letter reproduced below:
"Catholic Church turns away fine people who are gay
We are writing regarding the latest indictment of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community by the U.S. Conference Of Catholic Bishops and the Catholic Church. As Catholic parents of a gay son, it is difficult for us to believe that our church would turn our son away just for being who he is.
We do not consider our son to be disordered because of his sexual orientation. We find him to be a fine gentleman with a terrific job, a loving and kind individual. Apparently only heterosexual individuals are allowed to participate fully in their faith.
If there is any disorder, it is the stance of the Catholic Church. Discrimination should not be considered a Catholic family value. The Lord was inclusive, not exclusive.
By making these statements, the church hierarchy is making judgments. In the Catholic Church's efforts to bring people back to the faith, they are turning more away.
Jim and Sheila Batty, Wilmington"
Originally printed November 19, 2006, in the Wilminton, Delaware News Journal, online archive available.
I think there are other theological misunderstandings regarding condemnation, the nature of the church, and the nature of justice, that were contained in the original letter, but due to length constraints (200 words), I was unable to address them above.
[Xanga] A true fast
I was just reading through Isaiah 58, and some interesting points about fasting, and sacrifice in general, really seemed to indict me.
This whole chapter is centred about God rebuking the people of Israel for not fasting with the right heart of repentance. The people of Israel "day after day" seek for God and "seem eager for God to come near them."
The Israelites seem to think that these observances and this heart of worship is what God desires; but, apparently, God doesn't think so. Verse 3 is Israel's lament to the Lord, saying that they have fasted - "we humbled ourselves... on the day of your fasting" - but yet God "do[es] as you please and exploit[s] all your workers".
In Verse 4, God responds that they have fundamentally misunderstood what it is to fast; he elucidates their mistaken conception in verse 5: they have been approaching a day of fasting as "only a day for a man to humble himself... only for bowing one's head... for lying on sackcloth".
This stands in stark contrast with verses 6 and 7, where God defines the sort of fasting he has chosen: "loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free... share your food with the hungry... when you see the naked, clothe him."
All of this brings to mind Hosea 6:6, where the prophet says "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." The sacrifice of our lives which we offer up to God is not sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice, but sacrifice for the sake of demonstrating Christ's mercy to us ("in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us"). Offering up our lives is a fundamental part of sacrifice, but it is not, in itself, Sacrifice: for us to wholly lay down our lives, we must not only lay them down, but pick them up again and do the work of the Lord with what he has given us. Paul does not just say that "I no longer live"; no, rather, "Christ lives within me," and it is this that transforms him into a "living, holy and pleasing sacrifice" (Rom. 12:1). Anything less is a waste, falling far short of "a day acceptable to the LORD" (Is. 58:5).
Am I truly sacrificing my life, or merely squandering it in false humility and half-hearted repentance?
This whole chapter is centred about God rebuking the people of Israel for not fasting with the right heart of repentance. The people of Israel "day after day" seek for God and "seem eager for God to come near them."
The Israelites seem to think that these observances and this heart of worship is what God desires; but, apparently, God doesn't think so. Verse 3 is Israel's lament to the Lord, saying that they have fasted - "we humbled ourselves... on the day of your fasting" - but yet God "do[es] as you please and exploit[s] all your workers".
In Verse 4, God responds that they have fundamentally misunderstood what it is to fast; he elucidates their mistaken conception in verse 5: they have been approaching a day of fasting as "only a day for a man to humble himself... only for bowing one's head... for lying on sackcloth".
This stands in stark contrast with verses 6 and 7, where God defines the sort of fasting he has chosen: "loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free... share your food with the hungry... when you see the naked, clothe him."
All of this brings to mind Hosea 6:6, where the prophet says "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." The sacrifice of our lives which we offer up to God is not sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice, but sacrifice for the sake of demonstrating Christ's mercy to us ("in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us"). Offering up our lives is a fundamental part of sacrifice, but it is not, in itself, Sacrifice: for us to wholly lay down our lives, we must not only lay them down, but pick them up again and do the work of the Lord with what he has given us. Paul does not just say that "I no longer live"; no, rather, "Christ lives within me," and it is this that transforms him into a "living, holy and pleasing sacrifice" (Rom. 12:1). Anything less is a waste, falling far short of "a day acceptable to the LORD" (Is. 58:5).
Am I truly sacrificing my life, or merely squandering it in false humility and half-hearted repentance?
[Xanga] the best 8 bars ever
I feel as though these eight lines from In Christ Alone are perhaps the eight lines that best describe the fullness of seemingly contradictory emotion that I see in the loving, just, and perfect God of Christianity:
This entire hymn, written in 2002 by two English songwriters, is one of great (and rare) theological and emotional depth, but, most importantly, it is fully centred on and supporting of the titular phrase. Often when we sing this song in church - or I'm contemplating it alone, silently or otherwise - I'm actually moved to tears by the idea of Christianity - of the Gospel itself - not being a revelation of literary or religious doctrine, but being a person.
What amazes me when contemplating these lines is that "This gift of love and righteousness" is not a state of mind or a way of being, but rather a sacrificial atonement of God by God for God. This fantastic non sequitur (by which I mean, the idea of God himself being our gift is unprecedented and seemingly unwarranted from previous religious tradition) is so unbelievable - that God would not only be the agent for redemption of sins, but moreover be himself the vehicle of this atonement.
These eight lines seem to me to encapsulate the whole of the emotional story of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word, who was with God, and who was God." " though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form". He was "the way, the truth, and the life," but "he was despised, and we took no account of Him." Until, on the cross, he was able to say, "It is finished," so that "the wrath of God was poured out on him; and by his stripes we were saved."
I think it might have been William James, the 19th-century philosopher and psychologist, who wrote that the mystical experience might be something strongly akin to a musical euphoria, a transcendent feeling of the Other. If that is the case - and I feel strongly that the statement may be true, at least in part - then I'd offer up this song as a great example of such a case.
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
il on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
il on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
This entire hymn, written in 2002 by two English songwriters, is one of great (and rare) theological and emotional depth, but, most importantly, it is fully centred on and supporting of the titular phrase. Often when we sing this song in church - or I'm contemplating it alone, silently or otherwise - I'm actually moved to tears by the idea of Christianity - of the Gospel itself - not being a revelation of literary or religious doctrine, but being a person.
What amazes me when contemplating these lines is that "This gift of love and righteousness" is not a state of mind or a way of being, but rather a sacrificial atonement of God by God for God. This fantastic non sequitur (by which I mean, the idea of God himself being our gift is unprecedented and seemingly unwarranted from previous religious tradition) is so unbelievable - that God would not only be the agent for redemption of sins, but moreover be himself the vehicle of this atonement.
These eight lines seem to me to encapsulate the whole of the emotional story of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word, who was with God, and who was God." " though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form". He was "the way, the truth, and the life," but "he was despised, and we took no account of Him." Until, on the cross, he was able to say, "It is finished," so that "the wrath of God was poured out on him; and by his stripes we were saved."
I think it might have been William James, the 19th-century philosopher and psychologist, who wrote that the mystical experience might be something strongly akin to a musical euphoria, a transcendent feeling of the Other. If that is the case - and I feel strongly that the statement may be true, at least in part - then I'd offer up this song as a great example of such a case.
[Xanga] thoughts
Abstract: My intent here is to argue apologetically that the charge of
Christianity being an intolerant religion, even if true (which I gladly
admit to being plausible, if not even perhaps probable, under a
specific definition of ''intolerant'' not to be here strictly
discussed), fails to raise a strong objection to the Christian religion
in itself. The reason for this is that it fails to take into account
both (a) differing definitions of of intolerance and (b) differing
foundational metaphysical beliefs.
Christianity being an intolerant religion, even if true (which I gladly
admit to being plausible, if not even perhaps probable, under a
specific definition of ''intolerant'' not to be here strictly
discussed), fails to raise a strong objection to the Christian religion
in itself. The reason for this is that it fails to take into account
both (a) differing definitions of of intolerance and (b) differing
foundational metaphysical beliefs.
This is going to be vague. I apologize in advance.
I don't understand why people seem to have an issue with certain ramifications of holding a Christian worldview; specifically, the charge that it is an "intolerant" religion. Well, that's not true. I think I understand why. But I disagree that it's a strongly justified objection to the orthodox Christian religion.
The arguments against intolerance (and for pluralism or inclusivism) seem, on the whole, to be drawn at heart from a moral valuation of actions and choices derived from a particular belief set. As such, they take certain tenets of a relativist worldview, most comonly that a choice implies the soundness of its outcomes; that fairness is equivalent to
equality and, moreover, to be desired very (if not most) highly; that an individual's identity is the sum of their life choices; and that morality is socially defined. To wit: I will admit that Christianity is intolerant, inasmuch as I believe in a God who will not tolerate sin. I just think that the logical intermediary between "Christianity is intolerant" and "Christianity is not a valid theology" fails to compel assent.
Questions like "How can God damn men to hell for making a choice [to sin] that he presented them with in the first place?" (the same question is also phrased as "So, just because I made choice X, God is going to send me to hell?") seem to take as a noninferential premise that we are to be treated equally (not to mention, some particular misunderstandings of Christian doctrine). That is, if God was really good or loving or fair, he would grant unqualified mercy to unlimited people. At the very least, this question takes as noninferential premises properly basic beliefs that support this premise, beliefs which, I would argue, are not, in their totality, in the set of foundational beliefs which I, and a majority of other Christians, do not subscribe to. [I'm not too happy about this example of an polemically atheological question. I just can't think of a better one right now.]
The fact that the crucial distinction lies in two disjoint sets of properly basic (and therefore either irrefutable or very difficult to refute) beliefs implies that, while the Christian (or, generally, theistic) interlocutor may not provide satisfying answers to the polemicist, this is not due to her theology lacking empirical or rational completeness. Rather, it proceeds from an intuitive disagreement; and while intuition is obviously widely-held (outside of skeptical circles) to be a good guide towards tracking the truth, it is certainly not reliable all, or even most, of the time. As such, it bears strong consideration that, when questions are raised akin to those presented in form and specifics above, the issue is likely not one which may be argued out rationally, but instead one which proceeds from prima facie beliefs. The discussion must then turn to the warranted apprehension and dismissal of such first premises. One thing is clear: using logical (as opposed to pragmatic or empirical, and not as opposed to illogical) arguments, once this point of contention has been reached, is at best frustrating.
Or am I raising up a straw man? Does the atheologian have a more compelling argument for holding his properly basic beliefs than I do?
Addendum I: The argument for intolerance.
Abstract: Not only does the charge that Christianity is intolerant fail
to compel disbelief in the propositions of the Christian religion, but
I go on to argue that every coherent belief set requires intolerance (a
definition of which I lay out, but fail to justify beyond its intuitive
reasonability) as a foundational belief. Therefore, I claim, any
attempt to malign a belief set because of its supposed intolerance is
actually a fatal misconception of both intolerance as well as one's own
belief set.
to compel disbelief in the propositions of the Christian religion, but
I go on to argue that every coherent belief set requires intolerance (a
definition of which I lay out, but fail to justify beyond its intuitive
reasonability) as a foundational belief. Therefore, I claim, any
attempt to malign a belief set because of its supposed intolerance is
actually a fatal misconception of both intolerance as well as one's own
belief set.
Above and beyond what I argue above, I would moreover like to sketch out a defense of the following:
Every set of beliefs is intolerant.
The outline of the argument is as follows:
(1) Every set of beliefs contains propositions which are subscribed to as true.
(2) An intolerant belief set may be defined as "not accepting as internally tenable non-empty belief set [x]"
(3) It is incoherent for a belief set to accept as true a proposition which is the negation of a proposition contained within the belief set.
(C) Therefore, every set of beliefs [b] is intolerant to a second belief set [btwo], [btwo] being the set of beliefs [~b1, ~b2,...,~bn].
(Note that this is an overly rigorous (C). It is sufficient to prove that [b] is intolerant to any belief ~bm, m < n+1).
(1) Every set of beliefs contains propositions which are subscribed to as true.
(2) An intolerant belief set may be defined as "not accepting as internally tenable non-empty belief set [x]"
(3) It is incoherent for a belief set to accept as true a proposition which is the negation of a proposition contained within the belief set.
(C) Therefore, every set of beliefs [b] is intolerant to a second belief set [btwo], [btwo] being the set of beliefs [~b1, ~b2,...,~bn].
(Note that this is an overly rigorous (C). It is sufficient to prove that [b] is intolerant to any belief ~bm, m < n+1).
The strongest objection to this argument lies in the belief that there may exist propositions of a class who admit their negation; phrased in another way, the natural line of argument in opposition to mine is that there exist belief sets [c] who admit belief in contradictory propositions (an example of this is some construals of Buddhism, wherein seeming
opposites are embraced as koans or paths toward Enlightenment).
Such a vaguely-held belief set would accept the plausibility of [b1] and [~b1], but merely withhold judgment as to which obtains, or claim somehow that the inconsistency between [b1] and [~b1] is due to our ignorance. Such belief sets of vaguely-held beliefs (formulations of religious pluralism among them) are, however, intolerant towards at least one proposition: [~c1], belief in [b1] and belief in [~b1] is not compossible ([c1] being, of course, the foundational set belief that belief in both [b1] and [~b1] is possible).
The choice between a "tolerant" and "intolerant" belief set is thus fatally misconstrued by those arguing against Christianity, theism, or even, in general, "intolerant" belief sets. They would claim that their belief sets apprehend some intuitively praiseworthy concept of tolerance, whereas my belief set is fundamentally flawed because it
lacks this tolerance. What they fail to comprehend is that they are equally intolerant (in the sense of failing to admit belief in x) as I, merely towards a different class of proposition. Instead of being intolerant towards moral propositions or formulations of moral (or metaphysical) fact, they are intolerant towards propositions regarding the tenability of certain belief sets.
Now, it is very possible that my sort of intolerance has some intrinsically discrediting flaw, whereas their sort is either praiseworthy or neutral. Regardless, saying that "am tolerant; you are intolerant" is a radically different claim than "we are both intolerant, but my form of intolerance is better than yours.
In the words of Shawn Carter, "just my thoughts, ladies and gentlemen/ Just what I'm feelin at the time, you know what I mean?"
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