Well, been off visiting youngest daughter who has a new coffee pot you’d have to see to believe. So while drinking fancy coffee I started thinking about why all of my contemplations of the past few months have been so important, i.e., the ideas of evil and forgiveness and how these things are represented in the life and death of Jesus.
When I look at what I see and hear of Christianity in our modern world it seems to be dominated by the idea of judgment and violence. Old ways of thinking about why Jesus died and how that suffering has set things on the proper road towards rescuing all of creation paints a violent, helpless picture of God held hostage by a vaporous power of evil. In such I find little redeeming value. If Jesus is the symbol of God’s love and compassion how can we say then that such a God would require suffering and violence?
Thinking that violence can in anyway lead to peace now or eternal peace later just doesn’t equate in my thinking. The violence committed against Jesus is not what God intended or designed. I don’t see it even as a “fallback” plan in light of a first case scenario falling through. The violence against the good Jesus did is characteristic of humanity’s greatest fault. Fear that we will lose place or power makes it convenient to reason that we will overcome our fears through violence.
To further justify this violence with an appeal to some sense of cosmic justice that will re-balance the scales of human corruption also violates the basic tenants of our image of God. If God is truly the one, true power in the universe then nothing else can hold God to a standard that violates God’s nature.
Will we be held accountable for the injustices we do in the world? Of course we will just as we are everyday of our lives. We cannot live in a way that violates the fabric of creation’s intent without somehow harming ourselves. Our selfishness and greed may harm the least powerful at first but it will also catch us up in its web of self-deceit. The appearance that some get away with their crimes is just that, appearance only.
Now, where did I put that cup?
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
If I Had A Hammer
Wow, that's a big cup you have? Okay, back to the why question. Darwin’s theory identifies in the evolution of species the idea that suffering is an integral part of creation’s development. We know that when DNA replicates there often occurs gene abnormalities and mutations referred to as “errors”. From these, amounting to no more than slight differences, comes either better fitness for survival or lesser fitness prone to extinction. The better fitted characteristics survive, the lesser suffer against their environment and eventually perish. The evil we call suffering is literally part of the process of survival.
It is important to make note of this insight because it negates a long standing, primitive human trait to feel that when a disaster happens it is because some deserving judgment has been rendered on the guilty. Knowing suffering is part of the process of life refutes the assumption such suffering is the result of mistakes in a previous life, a parent’s sins becoming the judgment against their child, and even of a first generation of human choices resulting in a guilty judgment against all who follow. Augustine’s ‘original sin’ should be filed alongside the idea that the sun revolves around the earth.
Accept or reject evolutionary theory, human experience has led Semitic religions to conclude that even if the world was created good it has been in a downward spiral from that point forward. Most Eastern religions assume that the world was bad from the beginning so there is no possibility of good and suggest the only response is to escape as quickly as possible.
German philosopher Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803) shaped the course of modern thinking by rejecting these hypotheses of ancient philosophy and religion with the premise now etched into Enlightenment thought that the world is progressing, continually moving, and shaping itself towards its intended potential of positive goodness. To believe that there is a Source of all that is created, an Ultimate Being responsible for the process that began our existence, or that God—by a name of your own choosing—is moving us toward that which is a greater good, we still have to answer the question: How is it that suffering plays such a significant part in creation if God is good?
On the stage of science if we speak of anything deemed as rational it must have a measurable, perceivable purpose or goal. Johann Herder’s philosophical premise supported by the evolution of creation and human consciousness is that we are moving toward a higher intelligence whose goal might be perceived as that of perfecting human life. Progress, or evolution, can be hypothesized, identified, and measured making it a reasonable subject of scientific examination.
The development of human consciousness—I think therefore I am—is an essential part of this progression. In order for there to be a progression towards that which is deemed good over bad (beauty over chaos as a moral virtue) there must also be in the mix of development the possibility to move between that which leads to failure as well as that which leads to success. To have only the choice of success/goodness would not be a choice and thus totally change the process as it now exists. Consider this: if the process changes then so would the end result, i.e., a totally different existence than the one that is now ours.
The necessary possibility for either success or failure might appear as “chance” or “random” happenings, that is, not necessarily an intended part of the process even if it is part of the inevitable if indeed human development is moving towards the goal of perfecting intelligence and existence. The fact that evil happens is not what is necessarily intended nor is the consideration of whether this perfection is reachable relevant. What matters is the movement towards that goal.
There are likely a few missing pieces in my explanation of John Polkinghorne’s theory (Science and Providence, 1989, London: SPCK) of the “free process defense” but here’s my layman’s analysis. In building a home to provide safety and security for my family my intention (goal) is to fasten the beams of the structure using nails and a hammer. Included in reaching my goal is the intention to hit the nail with the hammer and not the nail on my finger. Yet the latter is always an unintended possibility. I rationally make the choice to move toward the goal because it is a good thing to provide shelter for my family knowing the possibility of the unintended harm is always there. However, that possibility becomes less as I progress to greater efficiency with the hammer and become more intelligent in the placement of my hand.
Time for more coffee?
It is important to make note of this insight because it negates a long standing, primitive human trait to feel that when a disaster happens it is because some deserving judgment has been rendered on the guilty. Knowing suffering is part of the process of life refutes the assumption such suffering is the result of mistakes in a previous life, a parent’s sins becoming the judgment against their child, and even of a first generation of human choices resulting in a guilty judgment against all who follow. Augustine’s ‘original sin’ should be filed alongside the idea that the sun revolves around the earth.
Accept or reject evolutionary theory, human experience has led Semitic religions to conclude that even if the world was created good it has been in a downward spiral from that point forward. Most Eastern religions assume that the world was bad from the beginning so there is no possibility of good and suggest the only response is to escape as quickly as possible.
German philosopher Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803) shaped the course of modern thinking by rejecting these hypotheses of ancient philosophy and religion with the premise now etched into Enlightenment thought that the world is progressing, continually moving, and shaping itself towards its intended potential of positive goodness. To believe that there is a Source of all that is created, an Ultimate Being responsible for the process that began our existence, or that God—by a name of your own choosing—is moving us toward that which is a greater good, we still have to answer the question: How is it that suffering plays such a significant part in creation if God is good?
On the stage of science if we speak of anything deemed as rational it must have a measurable, perceivable purpose or goal. Johann Herder’s philosophical premise supported by the evolution of creation and human consciousness is that we are moving toward a higher intelligence whose goal might be perceived as that of perfecting human life. Progress, or evolution, can be hypothesized, identified, and measured making it a reasonable subject of scientific examination.
The development of human consciousness—I think therefore I am—is an essential part of this progression. In order for there to be a progression towards that which is deemed good over bad (beauty over chaos as a moral virtue) there must also be in the mix of development the possibility to move between that which leads to failure as well as that which leads to success. To have only the choice of success/goodness would not be a choice and thus totally change the process as it now exists. Consider this: if the process changes then so would the end result, i.e., a totally different existence than the one that is now ours.
The necessary possibility for either success or failure might appear as “chance” or “random” happenings, that is, not necessarily an intended part of the process even if it is part of the inevitable if indeed human development is moving towards the goal of perfecting intelligence and existence. The fact that evil happens is not what is necessarily intended nor is the consideration of whether this perfection is reachable relevant. What matters is the movement towards that goal.
There are likely a few missing pieces in my explanation of John Polkinghorne’s theory (Science and Providence, 1989, London: SPCK) of the “free process defense” but here’s my layman’s analysis. In building a home to provide safety and security for my family my intention (goal) is to fasten the beams of the structure using nails and a hammer. Included in reaching my goal is the intention to hit the nail with the hammer and not the nail on my finger. Yet the latter is always an unintended possibility. I rationally make the choice to move toward the goal because it is a good thing to provide shelter for my family knowing the possibility of the unintended harm is always there. However, that possibility becomes less as I progress to greater efficiency with the hammer and become more intelligent in the placement of my hand.
Time for more coffee?
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Taking Evil Seriously
Grab your cup and buckle in. This part of the ride is a bit bumpy. The question of how it is that Jesus saves leads to another puzzling question: if there is a God who is good, why is there evil from which we need to be saved?
Even if we conclude there is a god responsible for creation then what kind of god is it that designs a world fraught with danger? And if god is indeed responsible for the design and is in control of keeping that design working then it is not hard to conceive of god as being vengeful, unjust, or just plain fickle. Considering the world’s chaos and suffering it is not illogical to conclude there is no reason, no good, and no god behind the working of creation.
But first, let’s identify what we mean by evil. We humans create tremendous evil for ourselves and for others by the self-serving, shortsighted choices we make. A child is killed by a drunk driver and we say, “Why did God allow that to happen?” If God has culpability the culpability is limited to giving humans the freedom of choice. I’ll say more about that a little later.
Then there is the evil that some still believe is an “act of god” rather than what science would call “natural disaster”. The power of nature to cause good or harm seems to be a matter of scale: too much or too little of a good thing spells disaster. Modern science and technology have given us a better perspective on the working of creation so we no longer consider it chance or in the hands of a whimsical and unpredictable creator.
One of my favorite books is When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Rabbi Harold Kushner in which he addresses suffering of the innocent at the hands of nature. Kushner suggests that just as humans have freedom of choice so too does nature have a degree of freedom to do what it does best. When circumstances reach an extreme, wind can become violent, rains can make floods, lightning does kill, and when the Earth’s plates slip it literally shakes our foundation. All of these natural features that possess both beauty and danger are in some way responsible for making earth inhabitable. Thus it would seem evil and good are partners in a creative dance.
Perhaps freedom is too generous a term for what happens in nature though random is not exactly right either since nature’s wrath is predictable. Some years ago a tragic flood swept through a river basin in Colorado wiping out homes and killing innocent people. At first the horrible news was deemed to be one of those “acts of god”. But after the initial tragedy it was quietly noted in the news that the temptation to build along this fantastically beautiful canyon was so great that many ignored the warning about the sites being in a hundred-year-flood plain. Those who made the choice to live in this particular canyon were literally gambling with their lives that that such a flood would not occur.
Close in proximity to natural disasters are pestilence and disease. Through medical science we continue to discover the causes of disease, learn how to prevent future diseases, and develop the means to eradicate such evil. Affects of culture, life style, stress, diet, the use of chemicals and other aspects of our social fabric both cause or limit disease. And of course, once introduced into our DNA heredity can makes disease a ticking bomb.
Science gives us understanding and method for controlling much of what is labeled as “natural” evil in our world. The lesson is a hard one but we are ever so slowly progressing towards bringing our human behavior into harmony with that of the natural world. The potential for eliminating evil is one element of rescuing humanity that requires a lifetime of perfecting our method.
Human evil is addressed by the Christian writer we know as Paul in his credo to the Church at Rome as he says, “That which I know to do I don’t do. And that which I know not to do is what I most often do. Woe is me.” The more we know the greater the challenge to get it right.
But knowing what is evil, what are the causes of evil and how to avoid or control evil does not answer the question, why evil at all? Oops, that’s the coffee maker beeping. Must be ready; let me get a cup and I’ll tell you what I think.
Even if we conclude there is a god responsible for creation then what kind of god is it that designs a world fraught with danger? And if god is indeed responsible for the design and is in control of keeping that design working then it is not hard to conceive of god as being vengeful, unjust, or just plain fickle. Considering the world’s chaos and suffering it is not illogical to conclude there is no reason, no good, and no god behind the working of creation.
But first, let’s identify what we mean by evil. We humans create tremendous evil for ourselves and for others by the self-serving, shortsighted choices we make. A child is killed by a drunk driver and we say, “Why did God allow that to happen?” If God has culpability the culpability is limited to giving humans the freedom of choice. I’ll say more about that a little later.
Then there is the evil that some still believe is an “act of god” rather than what science would call “natural disaster”. The power of nature to cause good or harm seems to be a matter of scale: too much or too little of a good thing spells disaster. Modern science and technology have given us a better perspective on the working of creation so we no longer consider it chance or in the hands of a whimsical and unpredictable creator.
One of my favorite books is When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Rabbi Harold Kushner in which he addresses suffering of the innocent at the hands of nature. Kushner suggests that just as humans have freedom of choice so too does nature have a degree of freedom to do what it does best. When circumstances reach an extreme, wind can become violent, rains can make floods, lightning does kill, and when the Earth’s plates slip it literally shakes our foundation. All of these natural features that possess both beauty and danger are in some way responsible for making earth inhabitable. Thus it would seem evil and good are partners in a creative dance.
Perhaps freedom is too generous a term for what happens in nature though random is not exactly right either since nature’s wrath is predictable. Some years ago a tragic flood swept through a river basin in Colorado wiping out homes and killing innocent people. At first the horrible news was deemed to be one of those “acts of god”. But after the initial tragedy it was quietly noted in the news that the temptation to build along this fantastically beautiful canyon was so great that many ignored the warning about the sites being in a hundred-year-flood plain. Those who made the choice to live in this particular canyon were literally gambling with their lives that that such a flood would not occur.
Close in proximity to natural disasters are pestilence and disease. Through medical science we continue to discover the causes of disease, learn how to prevent future diseases, and develop the means to eradicate such evil. Affects of culture, life style, stress, diet, the use of chemicals and other aspects of our social fabric both cause or limit disease. And of course, once introduced into our DNA heredity can makes disease a ticking bomb.
Science gives us understanding and method for controlling much of what is labeled as “natural” evil in our world. The lesson is a hard one but we are ever so slowly progressing towards bringing our human behavior into harmony with that of the natural world. The potential for eliminating evil is one element of rescuing humanity that requires a lifetime of perfecting our method.
Human evil is addressed by the Christian writer we know as Paul in his credo to the Church at Rome as he says, “That which I know to do I don’t do. And that which I know not to do is what I most often do. Woe is me.” The more we know the greater the challenge to get it right.
But knowing what is evil, what are the causes of evil and how to avoid or control evil does not answer the question, why evil at all? Oops, that’s the coffee maker beeping. Must be ready; let me get a cup and I’ll tell you what I think.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Go Easy On The Caffeine
Now the problem is that coffee has caffeine and caffeine makes your heart rate go up, the flow of blood to your brain increases and the brain generates thoughts that weren’t there before. So, caffeine is good right? Yes, but then there is always the postulate that too much of a good thing can go the other way. Too much caffeine can result in too much blood pressure, wear you out, challenge your other organs, or worse case scenario lead to explosion in some part of your brain. So watch it! Me? In spite of my bravado I try to limit myself to one cup in the morning spread over three or four refills. That way my brain thinks I’m drinking more than I really am.
Have another cup?
I not only write early, with cup near by, but I read more than I write. In doing so I ran across this in one of my latest reading adventures by Robert Wright, The Evolution of God. Near the end (p. 440) Wright draws a conclusion on the idea of salvation and how its meaning has varied through history and in various religious understandings. The variations move between personal or individual salvation and social or political salvation. So let I’ll wrap up my thoughts on how it is that Jesus saves by sharing Wrights broader insights—even though you would likely have to read the book before understanding the full scope of his meaning:
“Fortunately, it turns out that everyone does seek salvation. The word ‘salvation,’ remember, comes from a Latin word meaning to stay intact, to remain, whole, to be in good health. And everyone, atheist, agnostic, and believer alike, is trying to stay in good mental health, to keep their psyche or spirit intact, to keep body and soul together. They’re trying, you might say, to avert chaos at the individual level.
So the basic challenge of linking individual salvation to social salvation can be stated in equally symmetrical yet more secular language: the challenge is to link the avoidance of individual chaos to the avoidance of social chaos. Or: link the pursuit of psychic intactness to social intactness. Or: link the pursuit of personal integrity to social integrity. Or: link the pursuit of psychic harmony with social harmony.”
Though “salvation” is a rather churchy word—meaning we don’t usually hear that word outside those doors—it is a reasonable word to use when speaking about our human desire to live a peaceful life composed of both personal peace, peace in our community and peace in our world. Wright ties these together. One does not exist without the other.
I can drink to that. Oops! I’ll pour you a little more. Emphasis on little.
Have another cup?
I not only write early, with cup near by, but I read more than I write. In doing so I ran across this in one of my latest reading adventures by Robert Wright, The Evolution of God. Near the end (p. 440) Wright draws a conclusion on the idea of salvation and how its meaning has varied through history and in various religious understandings. The variations move between personal or individual salvation and social or political salvation. So let I’ll wrap up my thoughts on how it is that Jesus saves by sharing Wrights broader insights—even though you would likely have to read the book before understanding the full scope of his meaning:
“Fortunately, it turns out that everyone does seek salvation. The word ‘salvation,’ remember, comes from a Latin word meaning to stay intact, to remain, whole, to be in good health. And everyone, atheist, agnostic, and believer alike, is trying to stay in good mental health, to keep their psyche or spirit intact, to keep body and soul together. They’re trying, you might say, to avert chaos at the individual level.
So the basic challenge of linking individual salvation to social salvation can be stated in equally symmetrical yet more secular language: the challenge is to link the avoidance of individual chaos to the avoidance of social chaos. Or: link the pursuit of psychic intactness to social intactness. Or: link the pursuit of personal integrity to social integrity. Or: link the pursuit of psychic harmony with social harmony.”
Though “salvation” is a rather churchy word—meaning we don’t usually hear that word outside those doors—it is a reasonable word to use when speaking about our human desire to live a peaceful life composed of both personal peace, peace in our community and peace in our world. Wright ties these together. One does not exist without the other.
I can drink to that. Oops! I’ll pour you a little more. Emphasis on little.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Are We There Yet?
Now where was I? Oh, yes, pour another cup, I remember, it was about the progress of human redemption and how the change in our thinking is transforming our whole state of being. We don’t always get it right but we know, for examples, that human slavery is not acceptable, the helpless are not to be exploited, that violence and war are not to be waged for acquisition of that which belongs to another, and, in general, there are certain inalienable rights bestowed upon humans that we believe are endowed by the Creator. Converting our knowledge to universal practice takes longer but the mechanisms for achieving these higher principles are clearly revealed to us in a variety of religious traditions.
For those who choose to be Christians we see these truths revealed in the life and teachings of Jesus. In Jesus we are challenged to follow more than just the letter of the law. He sets for us a higher ideal that transcends the old ways of setting values in concrete or writing them in stone. For Jesus the greater law of human redemption is that which arises from human consciousness. The Hebrew prophet Jeremiah saw that day coming when the best of our human values is to be written on our hearts. To possess the faith of Jesus is to believe that we are guided by and obligated to live by internal principals rather than outside rules or rulers. We know we are to be better than we are but failing to live up to what we know does not negate the power in knowledge to transform us.
Jesus stated the obvious that how we treat those who are, as we, children of the Creator affects our lives as well—known as “do unto others….”. Certainly this applies to those with whom we share this planet but we are realizing an age old concept that if we neglect or exploit creation our careless actions harm us as well. We are growing in our awareness that there are consequences to every self-centered—or to use an old fashioned biblical term ‘sinful’—way of living.
The life and teachings of Jesus take on new meaning when we move beyond “salvation” being about the individual soul’s eternal destination but is about preserving our life together, our communities, all of humanity, and the planet we share. When we exploit natural resources, hoard that of which there is too little, and neglect those who are most harmed by human greed, we give to evil a power that it would not have otherwise. Like gravity and inertia there are natural, moral laws built into the very nature of our existence. The greatest benefits in life occur as we strive to bring our actions into harmony with the forces of creation that are in essence “good”.
Correcting our self-center behavior is a life long process. Forgiveness lifts the burden of our guilt, opens our eyes to our mistakes, picks us up, puts us back on the right road, but forgiveness does not in and of itself save the world. If we continue without change no amount of forgiveness will save us. Rather forgiveness is the power that enables us to change our way of thinking and allow our thinking to transform how we live.
Having experienced dramatic transformation himself the Apostle Paul in the Christian tradition writes about the change as one in which his whole being is literally transformed by the renewing (changing) of his mind. Paul affirms the same for the life of those he persuades to acquire for themselves the faith like that of Jesus. The possibility of that transformation, be it of heart or mind, was not only the experience of Paul but of countless others who would come after him. Through church history, men and women who have literally been changed by what they have come to know with their hearts and with their minds express their belief that they have been touched by that which is the Eternal. I know that of which Paul speaks for I have found that same transformation to be true in my own life.
You look like you could use another cup. Me, too; be right back.
For those who choose to be Christians we see these truths revealed in the life and teachings of Jesus. In Jesus we are challenged to follow more than just the letter of the law. He sets for us a higher ideal that transcends the old ways of setting values in concrete or writing them in stone. For Jesus the greater law of human redemption is that which arises from human consciousness. The Hebrew prophet Jeremiah saw that day coming when the best of our human values is to be written on our hearts. To possess the faith of Jesus is to believe that we are guided by and obligated to live by internal principals rather than outside rules or rulers. We know we are to be better than we are but failing to live up to what we know does not negate the power in knowledge to transform us.
Jesus stated the obvious that how we treat those who are, as we, children of the Creator affects our lives as well—known as “do unto others….”. Certainly this applies to those with whom we share this planet but we are realizing an age old concept that if we neglect or exploit creation our careless actions harm us as well. We are growing in our awareness that there are consequences to every self-centered—or to use an old fashioned biblical term ‘sinful’—way of living.
The life and teachings of Jesus take on new meaning when we move beyond “salvation” being about the individual soul’s eternal destination but is about preserving our life together, our communities, all of humanity, and the planet we share. When we exploit natural resources, hoard that of which there is too little, and neglect those who are most harmed by human greed, we give to evil a power that it would not have otherwise. Like gravity and inertia there are natural, moral laws built into the very nature of our existence. The greatest benefits in life occur as we strive to bring our actions into harmony with the forces of creation that are in essence “good”.
Correcting our self-center behavior is a life long process. Forgiveness lifts the burden of our guilt, opens our eyes to our mistakes, picks us up, puts us back on the right road, but forgiveness does not in and of itself save the world. If we continue without change no amount of forgiveness will save us. Rather forgiveness is the power that enables us to change our way of thinking and allow our thinking to transform how we live.
Having experienced dramatic transformation himself the Apostle Paul in the Christian tradition writes about the change as one in which his whole being is literally transformed by the renewing (changing) of his mind. Paul affirms the same for the life of those he persuades to acquire for themselves the faith like that of Jesus. The possibility of that transformation, be it of heart or mind, was not only the experience of Paul but of countless others who would come after him. Through church history, men and women who have literally been changed by what they have come to know with their hearts and with their minds express their belief that they have been touched by that which is the Eternal. I know that of which Paul speaks for I have found that same transformation to be true in my own life.
You look like you could use another cup. Me, too; be right back.
Friday, July 24, 2009
You Realize We Only Have A Few Billion Years
Careful, this cup is hot. This is a new blend and it’s really smooth. So…if you ask me, “Why Jesus?” here is my answer: first, to show in the life of Jesus and his teachings the potential we have in how we live and that we have denied the very best of the potential God has placed in us. Second, in Jesus we see the ultimate picture of God setting right our relationship through love and forgiveness offered without price. Third, in the crucifixion of Jesus we see our human nature that blindly rejects and denies that God’s way will get us where we desire to be. And fourth, the power of goodness witnessed in the resurrection is an emphatic statement that nothing in life or death can defeat God’s desires to achieve for creation the highest good.
Now if you were to ask of me, “What would you like to see in the Church of tomorrow?” I’d say for starters, let’s seriously rethink some key elements of what church goers hear sung, preached and taught in most churches every Sunday. Anselm’s 11th century theory that the powers of evil have captured the human spirit and therefore God must offer a ransom, or sacrifice, or something to balance the scales of injustice in order to restore that relationship doesn’t make sense to contemporary thinkers.
For those being raised in a modern society where the scientific and technological world speaks a language grounded in the material, concrete, and verifiable it is imperative we delete metaphors from the dark ages, run a virus sweep through our language of cosmic mysticism, and do a complete reinstall of the operating system. Scientific reasoning is the new platform by which all that is real in life is being measured. The Church must find a language that translates the truth of our tradition into this new world paradigm. Eleventh century ideas are just what they are, antiquated, nonsensical, and incomprehensible in the 21st century.
I think this is what Girard has done (see June 11 posting) by taking a route similar to that of Abelard with an exploration of both human and social behavior. Again, it is a context with which contemporary minds can grapple. Granted, as pointed out by some, Girard’s theory may have the same weakness as that of Abelard. Inspiration and knowledge of our corrupted thinking have not blossomed into the elimination of human cruelty as we continue to witness horrific evil at the hands of those who should have learned better. We may not have arrived at a final answer but at least Girard offers one that makes sense in our post modern world.
If we are to address seriously the statement “Jesus Saves” and claim that it has meaning in the world of today we must also face the reality of why isn’t there a greater progression away from human evil?
That’s a fair question but we must be fair as well in hearing a valid response that says there is progress in overcoming human evil. Perhaps not as quickly or as perfectly as we’d all like but a good look at human history, as short as it is, reveals highs and lows in individual and societal salvation. If viewed from the beginning of religious awareness to where we are now I think it can be said that we are moving in a positive direction toward human goodness and redemption.
In the Church we often say that faith is not an end in itself but is found in the journey. So it may well be with “salvation”. Our part is commitment to the journey but it is a journey that will take a life time and beyond. And so with the total salvation of creation and humanity; it may well be beyond us in time. Scientist measure that the future of our universe can be calculated as at several billion years before the sun burns out and the expansion of our solar system begins to contract. Compare the significant development in human evolution as measured in only a few thousand years and I suggest we can’t give up too soon on what is taking shape in our human existence. For example...wait, I’d better start another pot. This is starting to feel like it could take longer.
Now if you were to ask of me, “What would you like to see in the Church of tomorrow?” I’d say for starters, let’s seriously rethink some key elements of what church goers hear sung, preached and taught in most churches every Sunday. Anselm’s 11th century theory that the powers of evil have captured the human spirit and therefore God must offer a ransom, or sacrifice, or something to balance the scales of injustice in order to restore that relationship doesn’t make sense to contemporary thinkers.
For those being raised in a modern society where the scientific and technological world speaks a language grounded in the material, concrete, and verifiable it is imperative we delete metaphors from the dark ages, run a virus sweep through our language of cosmic mysticism, and do a complete reinstall of the operating system. Scientific reasoning is the new platform by which all that is real in life is being measured. The Church must find a language that translates the truth of our tradition into this new world paradigm. Eleventh century ideas are just what they are, antiquated, nonsensical, and incomprehensible in the 21st century.
I think this is what Girard has done (see June 11 posting) by taking a route similar to that of Abelard with an exploration of both human and social behavior. Again, it is a context with which contemporary minds can grapple. Granted, as pointed out by some, Girard’s theory may have the same weakness as that of Abelard. Inspiration and knowledge of our corrupted thinking have not blossomed into the elimination of human cruelty as we continue to witness horrific evil at the hands of those who should have learned better. We may not have arrived at a final answer but at least Girard offers one that makes sense in our post modern world.
If we are to address seriously the statement “Jesus Saves” and claim that it has meaning in the world of today we must also face the reality of why isn’t there a greater progression away from human evil?
That’s a fair question but we must be fair as well in hearing a valid response that says there is progress in overcoming human evil. Perhaps not as quickly or as perfectly as we’d all like but a good look at human history, as short as it is, reveals highs and lows in individual and societal salvation. If viewed from the beginning of religious awareness to where we are now I think it can be said that we are moving in a positive direction toward human goodness and redemption.
In the Church we often say that faith is not an end in itself but is found in the journey. So it may well be with “salvation”. Our part is commitment to the journey but it is a journey that will take a life time and beyond. And so with the total salvation of creation and humanity; it may well be beyond us in time. Scientist measure that the future of our universe can be calculated as at several billion years before the sun burns out and the expansion of our solar system begins to contract. Compare the significant development in human evolution as measured in only a few thousand years and I suggest we can’t give up too soon on what is taking shape in our human existence. For example...wait, I’d better start another pot. This is starting to feel like it could take longer.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Devil Made Me Do It! Yeah, Right.
Well, its Sunday morning, coffee pot is brewing, and I’m getting ready for church. What better time to talk about “evil”. Evil has always been a sticky question for people of faith. From where does evil come and, if God is good, why does evil exist? There’s much to be said about happenings that we deem to be destructive evil but for this cup of coffee let me stick with some of our more antiquated ideas.
Ancient thinkers have pictured God as having an adversary, a competing power, often called Satan or The Devil. I like the insightful Star Wars designation as “The Dark Side”. The anthropomorphic (human-like) attributes we apply to evil are quiet natural in the history of religious development.
We project human qualities onto God even though we know that God is not limited or bound by such features. Communication about God in metaphoric terms that parallel our human experience helps us connect with God. The same need for metaphoric images is at work when envisioning evil. We give evil anthropomorphic (human-like) qualities that tend to make evil real, fearsome, and an adversary with greater than human powers. A theological problem develops when we imagine the powers of this adversary as equaling the power of God.
Primitive gods were as likely to be bad as good, ill tempered, unpredictable, and just down right adversarial to humans. In the earliest of religious thinking even creation was not considered “good”. These ancient ideas were in the cultures surrounding biblical people and posed significant obstacles to monotheism. There is good reason to believe that even though Judaism championed monotheism, up until the time of King Josiah other gods were not only prevalent among those who lived in the land, the worship of other gods was tolerated. Monotheism became the Law of the land in Judaism after Israel’s return from exile in Babylon.
Though the idea of a competing evil power is part of Biblical thought it is not compatible with the premises of monotheism. It is also not compatible with modern thinking any more than the Biblical affirmation that the world is flat, the sun revolves around the earth, or that the planet has four corners. Evil is what we create individually or collectively by our counter productive choices based on greed, fear, hate, envy, deceit, and the dire need to control our destiny. Evil is real and it is powerful and when it is allowed to permeate a community it can seemingly develop a life of its own.
Somewhere deep in our DNA there is the need to blame evil onto someone or something else. The Genesis story tellers capture that in the character of Adam after he eats the forbidden fruit. When God questions Adam about the evil he has set loose on creation he answers, “The woman, whom you gave me, made me do it.” We not only blame others for our evil we make our enemies the epitome of evil or whatever necessary to see them as less than human. By seeing them as evil and making them less than human it is then easier to hate them, treat them with disdain, heap all manner of evil upon them, even to the point of killing. We fight evil with evil and the result is escalating evil.
When viewing how it is that we are restored to that relationship intended at creation I do not see God as being held hostage to any power or justice other than God’s own. There is no force greater or equal that could make demands of God. Forgiveness that restores our relationship comes solely from God’s capacity to love and willingness to forgive.
Oops, getting late. I’m going to take this cup with me while you let that sink in.
Ancient thinkers have pictured God as having an adversary, a competing power, often called Satan or The Devil. I like the insightful Star Wars designation as “The Dark Side”. The anthropomorphic (human-like) attributes we apply to evil are quiet natural in the history of religious development.
We project human qualities onto God even though we know that God is not limited or bound by such features. Communication about God in metaphoric terms that parallel our human experience helps us connect with God. The same need for metaphoric images is at work when envisioning evil. We give evil anthropomorphic (human-like) qualities that tend to make evil real, fearsome, and an adversary with greater than human powers. A theological problem develops when we imagine the powers of this adversary as equaling the power of God.
Primitive gods were as likely to be bad as good, ill tempered, unpredictable, and just down right adversarial to humans. In the earliest of religious thinking even creation was not considered “good”. These ancient ideas were in the cultures surrounding biblical people and posed significant obstacles to monotheism. There is good reason to believe that even though Judaism championed monotheism, up until the time of King Josiah other gods were not only prevalent among those who lived in the land, the worship of other gods was tolerated. Monotheism became the Law of the land in Judaism after Israel’s return from exile in Babylon.
Though the idea of a competing evil power is part of Biblical thought it is not compatible with the premises of monotheism. It is also not compatible with modern thinking any more than the Biblical affirmation that the world is flat, the sun revolves around the earth, or that the planet has four corners. Evil is what we create individually or collectively by our counter productive choices based on greed, fear, hate, envy, deceit, and the dire need to control our destiny. Evil is real and it is powerful and when it is allowed to permeate a community it can seemingly develop a life of its own.
Somewhere deep in our DNA there is the need to blame evil onto someone or something else. The Genesis story tellers capture that in the character of Adam after he eats the forbidden fruit. When God questions Adam about the evil he has set loose on creation he answers, “The woman, whom you gave me, made me do it.” We not only blame others for our evil we make our enemies the epitome of evil or whatever necessary to see them as less than human. By seeing them as evil and making them less than human it is then easier to hate them, treat them with disdain, heap all manner of evil upon them, even to the point of killing. We fight evil with evil and the result is escalating evil.
When viewing how it is that we are restored to that relationship intended at creation I do not see God as being held hostage to any power or justice other than God’s own. There is no force greater or equal that could make demands of God. Forgiveness that restores our relationship comes solely from God’s capacity to love and willingness to forgive.
Oops, getting late. I’m going to take this cup with me while you let that sink in.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
So Why Jesus and Why Did He Die?
I see you already have your cup. Good. Where did I leave off? Oh, yes, that question about why Jesus and was it really necessary for his life to turn out the way it did? Around the middle of the last century, noted British preacher Leslie Weatherhead wrote an insightful little book entitled The Will of God. The book has served as an excellent answer to that question for many years. Though I think Weatherhead’s answer needs updating his premise is still strong. Jesus’ rejections and death was not God’s intention, desire, or will. Rather, like so many of the prophets before Jesus, it was God’s desire that the people accept him and his teaching. The purpose of Jesus is the same as many prophets before him, to show us a Creator who loves us, who created us to love sacrificially, and including forgiving others as we have been forgiven.
Though we as disciples consider Jesus to be unique in revealing God’s nature, some of his most poignant teachings are actually taken from earlier writings in Judaism. Jesus quotes scripture, encourages questioners to do what they know, and most notably raises long established Biblical principles to an even higher standard of conduct. For example, “You’ve heard it said you shall not murder but I say that if you hate your brother you are just as guilty”. Or as when identifying the most important of the Law is to love God and love neighbor. Jesus shows us the way to God’s love and forgiveness by taking what was already known of God and moving it to the next step.
The uniqueness of Jesus may not be in reversing the previous image held of God or of offering one not seen before. There are some horrific images of God in early Judaism as vengeful, unforgiving, and arbitrary when demanding the death of those who are outside the circle of God’s people. A closer reading will find beneath these inconvenient texts the earliest picture of the God Jesus reveals. Jesus’ life and teachings solidify this often missed image of a God who loves creation above all else.
Jesus’ death had to be a not-intended-possibility just as with prophets before him (can you say John the Baptist) but death is never the end of the story for it is in the resurrection we discover that God has the last word and it is always “life”. The presence of God as seen in Jesus’ resurrection lives on with his disciples. The Spirit of the Risen Christ directs the beginning of the church, becomes visible at the death of Stephen, confronts Paul on the Damascus Road, guides the Apostles as they spread the good news throughout the world and continues to be present in the lives of countless saints—and sinners—until today.
To the point, Jesus’ life, death and resurrection declare God’s love and forgiveness. God’s forgiveness puts us in a right relationship as we are rescued from the downward spiral of our self-serving ways, set straight on the path from which we have fallen (on which we may occasionally stumble or take a wrong turn) and empowered to live above our own expectations. In Jesus we not only learn of this forgiveness but we find freedom from our guilt, we are accepted even when we don’t always get it right, and by Jesus’ affirmation we raise the quality of our living in our commitment to the principles of love and forgiveness. Being “saved” is at the same time an eye-opening, transforming awareness of what is already in existence and becomes a continual process throughout our life.
I need more coffee and then I want to back up to that problem of evil. I’ll hurry.
Though we as disciples consider Jesus to be unique in revealing God’s nature, some of his most poignant teachings are actually taken from earlier writings in Judaism. Jesus quotes scripture, encourages questioners to do what they know, and most notably raises long established Biblical principles to an even higher standard of conduct. For example, “You’ve heard it said you shall not murder but I say that if you hate your brother you are just as guilty”. Or as when identifying the most important of the Law is to love God and love neighbor. Jesus shows us the way to God’s love and forgiveness by taking what was already known of God and moving it to the next step.
The uniqueness of Jesus may not be in reversing the previous image held of God or of offering one not seen before. There are some horrific images of God in early Judaism as vengeful, unforgiving, and arbitrary when demanding the death of those who are outside the circle of God’s people. A closer reading will find beneath these inconvenient texts the earliest picture of the God Jesus reveals. Jesus’ life and teachings solidify this often missed image of a God who loves creation above all else.
Jesus’ death had to be a not-intended-possibility just as with prophets before him (can you say John the Baptist) but death is never the end of the story for it is in the resurrection we discover that God has the last word and it is always “life”. The presence of God as seen in Jesus’ resurrection lives on with his disciples. The Spirit of the Risen Christ directs the beginning of the church, becomes visible at the death of Stephen, confronts Paul on the Damascus Road, guides the Apostles as they spread the good news throughout the world and continues to be present in the lives of countless saints—and sinners—until today.
To the point, Jesus’ life, death and resurrection declare God’s love and forgiveness. God’s forgiveness puts us in a right relationship as we are rescued from the downward spiral of our self-serving ways, set straight on the path from which we have fallen (on which we may occasionally stumble or take a wrong turn) and empowered to live above our own expectations. In Jesus we not only learn of this forgiveness but we find freedom from our guilt, we are accepted even when we don’t always get it right, and by Jesus’ affirmation we raise the quality of our living in our commitment to the principles of love and forgiveness. Being “saved” is at the same time an eye-opening, transforming awareness of what is already in existence and becomes a continual process throughout our life.
I need more coffee and then I want to back up to that problem of evil. I’ll hurry.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Tracing Out The Crack In Faith's Wall
Grab your cup I’ve made a full pot this morning. We’re going to need it. Some years ago it dawned on me there were some things about the understanding of faith I grew up with that no longer seemed reasonable. I was in disagreement with Anselm, even though I didn’t know it was Anselm’s at the time.
Along with the growing crack in the wall of my faith came the question, “When exactly in the story of human history did God’s saving act take place?” If, as Anselm suggests, the death of Jesus was the key to balancing the scales of injustice, tilted because we dishonored God through our self-center disobedience, when exactly was the moment justice restored spiritual equilibrium? Was it at Jesus’ birth, the moment of his death, the dawning of his resurrection, at the point in which we ask forgiveness, or is there another time?
In searching for that answer I realized that the most important moment for me in the Jesus story is when he utters from the cross, “Father, forgive them. They do not know what they are doing.” Other sayings, sermons and parables are no less important but for me it is at this moment that all the teachings of Jesus regarding how we are loved, and how we should love others, is exemplified. Jesus’ forgiveness is directed at the very people who put him on the cross. They are at that very moment calling for his death. They are not asking for his forgiveness and if it is offered they would surely throw it back in his face. Yet, Jesus forgives them.
In that moment Jesus symbolizes the magnitude of God’s grace and it is that infinite capacity of God to forgive wherein we find that which saves us. Here is love that exceeds our human ability to love. It is this love which rescues us from all that would take away from life. We are saved in that we are put right with God solely by God’s forgiveness for no other reason than God chooses to do so.
You can’t go back in time and reverse neither the mistakes you’ve made nor the harm you have done. In love and regret we might try, and try we should, but we can’t erase the hurt, the damage, or the brokenness of our actions. Our only hope is forgiveness that can lift us out of our past and empower us to move into a new, promising future.
So when did that forgiveness begin? In Anselm’s theory it is at the cross, when Jesus dies the price is paid to re-balance our dishonoring God and the price paid is sufficient because of his innocence and therefore God can now forgive us.
But how can we say that God’s forgiveness doesn’t begin until the cross? What about the many utterances of forgiveness Jesus gives before the cross? In fact, all through Jesus’ life and ministry he is forgiving those who don’t ask for nor deserve forgiveness. Occasionally when someone asks for healing Jesus gives them forgiveness as well.
So when does God’s forgiveness begin? I offer my apology to the writer or preacher who planted this idea in my head for I have long since forgotten its source. But if we hold to the idea of God that Paul describes as, “the One in whom we live and move and have our being” then we must also see that this source of our being knows everything about us including what we have been and what we will be. If all of life is in God and there is in the capacity of God to know all things past, present and future, it is also reasonable to state that such a God is one who knew before creation that our human qualities would get in the way.
If that is reasonable, and I think it is, it remains that God continued with creation knowing where human freedom would lead. That being the case then I have to believe that God’s forgiveness begins before creation.
Okay, before you ask, let me: So why Jesus? Why the cross? What was the purpose if forgiveness was already given? That’ll take more coffee than I have this morning. Gotta run for now but finish your cup and I’ll get right back with that answer.
Along with the growing crack in the wall of my faith came the question, “When exactly in the story of human history did God’s saving act take place?” If, as Anselm suggests, the death of Jesus was the key to balancing the scales of injustice, tilted because we dishonored God through our self-center disobedience, when exactly was the moment justice restored spiritual equilibrium? Was it at Jesus’ birth, the moment of his death, the dawning of his resurrection, at the point in which we ask forgiveness, or is there another time?
In searching for that answer I realized that the most important moment for me in the Jesus story is when he utters from the cross, “Father, forgive them. They do not know what they are doing.” Other sayings, sermons and parables are no less important but for me it is at this moment that all the teachings of Jesus regarding how we are loved, and how we should love others, is exemplified. Jesus’ forgiveness is directed at the very people who put him on the cross. They are at that very moment calling for his death. They are not asking for his forgiveness and if it is offered they would surely throw it back in his face. Yet, Jesus forgives them.
In that moment Jesus symbolizes the magnitude of God’s grace and it is that infinite capacity of God to forgive wherein we find that which saves us. Here is love that exceeds our human ability to love. It is this love which rescues us from all that would take away from life. We are saved in that we are put right with God solely by God’s forgiveness for no other reason than God chooses to do so.
You can’t go back in time and reverse neither the mistakes you’ve made nor the harm you have done. In love and regret we might try, and try we should, but we can’t erase the hurt, the damage, or the brokenness of our actions. Our only hope is forgiveness that can lift us out of our past and empower us to move into a new, promising future.
So when did that forgiveness begin? In Anselm’s theory it is at the cross, when Jesus dies the price is paid to re-balance our dishonoring God and the price paid is sufficient because of his innocence and therefore God can now forgive us.
But how can we say that God’s forgiveness doesn’t begin until the cross? What about the many utterances of forgiveness Jesus gives before the cross? In fact, all through Jesus’ life and ministry he is forgiving those who don’t ask for nor deserve forgiveness. Occasionally when someone asks for healing Jesus gives them forgiveness as well.
So when does God’s forgiveness begin? I offer my apology to the writer or preacher who planted this idea in my head for I have long since forgotten its source. But if we hold to the idea of God that Paul describes as, “the One in whom we live and move and have our being” then we must also see that this source of our being knows everything about us including what we have been and what we will be. If all of life is in God and there is in the capacity of God to know all things past, present and future, it is also reasonable to state that such a God is one who knew before creation that our human qualities would get in the way.
If that is reasonable, and I think it is, it remains that God continued with creation knowing where human freedom would lead. That being the case then I have to believe that God’s forgiveness begins before creation.
Okay, before you ask, let me: So why Jesus? Why the cross? What was the purpose if forgiveness was already given? That’ll take more coffee than I have this morning. Gotta run for now but finish your cup and I’ll get right back with that answer.
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Deep Necessity for the Highest Potential
Glad you didn’t give up on me. Coffee’s still warm so let’s push on. When in my memory I see that neon cross bearing the words “Jesus Saves” it serves to remind me of something I reluctantly admit: I need help. For no matter how hard I’ve tried I have not lived up to my own expectations, much less God’s. The humbling truth to which I have reluctantly arrived is: my efforts at making myself ‘good enough’ have and will always fall short. Spiritually speaking, I concluded a long time ago that if it is all up to me, I'm toast.
Like the climbers plucked from the mountain peak in a snow storm, being "saved" is the sudden awareness that we've reached a point where we can't manufacture our own rescue. It means we can in no way, with whatever strength of character or amount of good deeds dig ourselves out, pull ourselves up, or re-create ourselves in a fashion that would measure up to the image intended at creation by the Spiritual Being from which all of life flows. The potential posited in each of us can be delightfully challenging and at the same time horribly overwhelming.
Anselm was right to understand the Apostle Paul as saying there is nothing we humans can do that will balance the scales of the injustice. Anselm is right again in believing that only God can do that. But here is where I think Anselm misses the mark for a modern world. We humans are so drawn to the dramatic; we can’t take our eyes off the train wreck, the race cars crashing around the track, or help ourselves from gawking at an accident on the freeway. In our rush to the most horrific part of the Jesus story, the cruelty and injustice of his death, we miss the significance of what Jesus taught by his life.
Anselm created a spiritual analogy that spoke clearly to his culture. As long as the world accepted the ancient thinking that reality is first and foremost spiritual his analogy continued to be effective. But for a modern world that is more and more turning to a scientific reality there is something missing. Modern thinkers need that which is concrete, visible and tested. That's what I see in the humanness of Jesus' life and how in his teachings he mirrored God's nature.
In the story of his life,long before the tragedy of the cross, Jesus shows that overcoming temptation and evil is possible. Paul makes the comparison that Jesus is the “new Adam”. That in Jesus we find one like Adam only this one gets it right. The life of Jesus then leads us to the conclusion that in our human nature there is that possibility of overcoming evil and, even though we may never live up to it, we should never cease striving for anything less than what God intends. I like what the Apostle Paul says, “The good that I intend to do I don’t and the evil I try to avoid is exactly what I end up doing. What can deliver me?” Paul concludes, “Thank God, through Jesus Christ.” Jesus gives us reason for hope.
You are right if you think this sounds familiar since Abelard, just a century after Anselm, said much the same thing. Abelard contended that it is Jesus’ life and his commitment to principles of right and justice in the face of death that serve as a moral inspiration for us to live up to nothing less than the best of our human potential.
But is inspiration really enough? And is this really any different than what Girard has suggested that it is in the “ah-hah” moment when our eyes are opened and we see in Jesus that “scapegoating” and violence are not the way to human freedom or salvation?
But what if…What if that which saves us and puts us right has nothing to do with the degree to which we are inspired by Jesus’ morality, courage, or willingness to give himself for a cause? What other purpose might Jesus' life and death served?
Here's a thought: What if Jesus’ teachings and life are about declaring or, to borrow Roger Haight's expression, a "symbol" of what has been the reality of our relationship with God from the beginning of creation?
Okay, better make another pot this is going to be more than a two cup conversation. Be right back.
Like the climbers plucked from the mountain peak in a snow storm, being "saved" is the sudden awareness that we've reached a point where we can't manufacture our own rescue. It means we can in no way, with whatever strength of character or amount of good deeds dig ourselves out, pull ourselves up, or re-create ourselves in a fashion that would measure up to the image intended at creation by the Spiritual Being from which all of life flows. The potential posited in each of us can be delightfully challenging and at the same time horribly overwhelming.
Anselm was right to understand the Apostle Paul as saying there is nothing we humans can do that will balance the scales of the injustice. Anselm is right again in believing that only God can do that. But here is where I think Anselm misses the mark for a modern world. We humans are so drawn to the dramatic; we can’t take our eyes off the train wreck, the race cars crashing around the track, or help ourselves from gawking at an accident on the freeway. In our rush to the most horrific part of the Jesus story, the cruelty and injustice of his death, we miss the significance of what Jesus taught by his life.
Anselm created a spiritual analogy that spoke clearly to his culture. As long as the world accepted the ancient thinking that reality is first and foremost spiritual his analogy continued to be effective. But for a modern world that is more and more turning to a scientific reality there is something missing. Modern thinkers need that which is concrete, visible and tested. That's what I see in the humanness of Jesus' life and how in his teachings he mirrored God's nature.
In the story of his life,long before the tragedy of the cross, Jesus shows that overcoming temptation and evil is possible. Paul makes the comparison that Jesus is the “new Adam”. That in Jesus we find one like Adam only this one gets it right. The life of Jesus then leads us to the conclusion that in our human nature there is that possibility of overcoming evil and, even though we may never live up to it, we should never cease striving for anything less than what God intends. I like what the Apostle Paul says, “The good that I intend to do I don’t and the evil I try to avoid is exactly what I end up doing. What can deliver me?” Paul concludes, “Thank God, through Jesus Christ.” Jesus gives us reason for hope.
You are right if you think this sounds familiar since Abelard, just a century after Anselm, said much the same thing. Abelard contended that it is Jesus’ life and his commitment to principles of right and justice in the face of death that serve as a moral inspiration for us to live up to nothing less than the best of our human potential.
But is inspiration really enough? And is this really any different than what Girard has suggested that it is in the “ah-hah” moment when our eyes are opened and we see in Jesus that “scapegoating” and violence are not the way to human freedom or salvation?
But what if…What if that which saves us and puts us right has nothing to do with the degree to which we are inspired by Jesus’ morality, courage, or willingness to give himself for a cause? What other purpose might Jesus' life and death served?
Here's a thought: What if Jesus’ teachings and life are about declaring or, to borrow Roger Haight's expression, a "symbol" of what has been the reality of our relationship with God from the beginning of creation?
Okay, better make another pot this is going to be more than a two cup conversation. Be right back.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
This Should Come With A Warning Label
Ummm. That coffee really smells good this early in the morning. Grab your cup. Let’s take a new look at that old adage, “Jesus Saves”. You realize, of course, my reason for writing is to see how my understanding works with those of you who are involved in the same search for making sense of this in a fast changing world of reason.
I should warn you that in no way am I in the same game with some of the theologians and writers I’ve cited. In fact, most of my own understanding has come from reading and hopefully absorbing a tiny amount of their wisdom. And, I keep reading and searching for better ways to understand and express my faith. My understanding is in a constant state of evolution.
Along the way I realized that the expression, “Jesus Saves” was raising other questions for me: “From what exactly is it that Jesus saves?” And, “What does Jesus provide that makes this happen?” Other issues and questions surface as well but these will likely take us to the bottom of this pot of coffee.
Here’s where my search has taken me. Most religious traditions assume the existence of a spiritual dimension to the universe. Religious reasoning, along with philosophy in its infancy, surmise the spiritual realm as being what is “real” while the material world (that which we see and feel) is merely a reflection of that which is spiritual. Therefore, the spiritual realm is eternal, and thus permanent, while the material world is really temporary since it is constantly passing from existence.
Then along came the Enlightenment and turned this thinking upside down. Scientifically speaking, only that which is material, concrete, and can be tested is real. That which is deemed spiritual is no more than a reflection of reality at best or a development of our psyche at worse.
A significant connection between the material and spiritual worlds, since we are passing from this existence to what is hopefully a future spiritual existence, is the understanding that a person’s goodness in this life will lead them to happiness in that future dimension--the eternal, spiritual world that is forever. To be sure not all religions have the same concept of that spiritual world nor do they share the same final goal. Some see this life as an all-or-nothing, you only go ‘round once in life, and you must make the most of your opportunity in the here-and-now if you hope to have an eternal, future life.
In some religious contexts the process of passing to that future life is a bit more prolonged and perhaps problematic. How we live in the present determines the future form in which we will return again and again (reincarnation) to this material world in an on going attempt to reach a state of unification with the eternal.
This is certainly an over simplification of other world religions and probably a disservice to their theological concepts but for those who come from a western, Christian mind set my goal is simply to add perspective and give some context besides our own. There is one other important note to be added: the world’s better evolved religious communities hold to a general consensus that our humanness is in some form or fashion a real drag on obtaining that ultimate life with, or unity with, that which is eternal and spiritual.
Therefore, something has to happen in this life in order to allow that more perfect life to become a reality for us. Making that “happen” for those who speak in Christian terms is the meaning of the concept “being saved”. Because our humanness gets in the way and we are by our own efforts unable to make that happen, we need someone or something or the eternal being to rescue us.
That is the claim Anselm makes of Jesus: in his innocent suffering, he becomes our substitute to balance the scales of justice and restore us to the original spiritual relationship intended by the Creator from the beginning thus allowing us access to that eternal, spiritual life both now and when this material, temporary life reaches its end.
I hope that isn’t a look of confusion but just in case I find caffeine always helps with this kind of thinking. Have another cup.
I should warn you that in no way am I in the same game with some of the theologians and writers I’ve cited. In fact, most of my own understanding has come from reading and hopefully absorbing a tiny amount of their wisdom. And, I keep reading and searching for better ways to understand and express my faith. My understanding is in a constant state of evolution.
Along the way I realized that the expression, “Jesus Saves” was raising other questions for me: “From what exactly is it that Jesus saves?” And, “What does Jesus provide that makes this happen?” Other issues and questions surface as well but these will likely take us to the bottom of this pot of coffee.
Here’s where my search has taken me. Most religious traditions assume the existence of a spiritual dimension to the universe. Religious reasoning, along with philosophy in its infancy, surmise the spiritual realm as being what is “real” while the material world (that which we see and feel) is merely a reflection of that which is spiritual. Therefore, the spiritual realm is eternal, and thus permanent, while the material world is really temporary since it is constantly passing from existence.
Then along came the Enlightenment and turned this thinking upside down. Scientifically speaking, only that which is material, concrete, and can be tested is real. That which is deemed spiritual is no more than a reflection of reality at best or a development of our psyche at worse.
A significant connection between the material and spiritual worlds, since we are passing from this existence to what is hopefully a future spiritual existence, is the understanding that a person’s goodness in this life will lead them to happiness in that future dimension--the eternal, spiritual world that is forever. To be sure not all religions have the same concept of that spiritual world nor do they share the same final goal. Some see this life as an all-or-nothing, you only go ‘round once in life, and you must make the most of your opportunity in the here-and-now if you hope to have an eternal, future life.
In some religious contexts the process of passing to that future life is a bit more prolonged and perhaps problematic. How we live in the present determines the future form in which we will return again and again (reincarnation) to this material world in an on going attempt to reach a state of unification with the eternal.
This is certainly an over simplification of other world religions and probably a disservice to their theological concepts but for those who come from a western, Christian mind set my goal is simply to add perspective and give some context besides our own. There is one other important note to be added: the world’s better evolved religious communities hold to a general consensus that our humanness is in some form or fashion a real drag on obtaining that ultimate life with, or unity with, that which is eternal and spiritual.
Therefore, something has to happen in this life in order to allow that more perfect life to become a reality for us. Making that “happen” for those who speak in Christian terms is the meaning of the concept “being saved”. Because our humanness gets in the way and we are by our own efforts unable to make that happen, we need someone or something or the eternal being to rescue us.
That is the claim Anselm makes of Jesus: in his innocent suffering, he becomes our substitute to balance the scales of justice and restore us to the original spiritual relationship intended by the Creator from the beginning thus allowing us access to that eternal, spiritual life both now and when this material, temporary life reaches its end.
I hope that isn’t a look of confusion but just in case I find caffeine always helps with this kind of thinking. Have another cup.
Friday, June 26, 2009
When A Rose Is Not A Rose
Nothing smells quite like freshly ground coffee. The aroma makes it taste even better, don’t you think? I do my best thinking along side a cup; early in the morning. Which was a good thing this morning as I realized I inadvertently used a word last posting assuming you would know what I meant. Not an unusual word but a choice that might leave some scratching their heads. Allow me to take a short side trip.
Unless you’re an English major you probably haven’t used the word “metaphor” in conversation since getting out of school. When we speak of something spiritual—that which we cannot see, taste, touch, hear—whether it refers to a being or an experience, the only way we can have such a conversation is to use ‘words’ that are descriptive. The problem with spiritual matters is: how do you describe something you can’t see, hear, or touch? Answer: we use words that compare the ‘spiritual’ with those things that we experience as concrete, material, or, if not, at least common to our knowledge.
I’m not an English major but let me attempt to distinguish between a metaphor and a simile—I’m going to get mail on this one. A simile is descriptive and uses ‘as’ or ‘like’. You might say, “My love is like a red, red rose.” But an entirely different level of comparison happens if you say, “My love is a red, red rose.” The comparison is deeper, relies on an assumed shared experience, and asks us to accept one thing as being another. Such a comparison is called a metaphor.
When I ask someone to give me a quality or description of God a common response is, “God is love”. And, even though love is not something you can put under a microscope or grow in a laboratory, enough of us have experienced love of one kind or another so we have a common understanding of the meaning we are attempting to convey. We understand the mystery of love, or at least have waded into it far enough to have grasped the concept, and therefore to compare that to God carries a reasonable and intelligent understanding about “God”.
In the writings of Judaism there are many names for and descriptions of God. Among these are, “God is my fortress” or “God is my rock”. Some even become local to a limited setting, “The Lion of Judah” or “The rose of Sharon”. That’s not to say that God is literally a fortress, a rock, a flower, or a lion. The word is drawing a comparison of a quality that has been experienced or that has a deeper meaning so others who share this common experience would likely nod in agreement, “Yes, that is how I see God.” Such metaphorical, poetic if you will, usage helps us attach concrete images to that which can only be imagined. Since I cannot open your mind to look inside, words are as close as I can get to verifying that you comprehend what I mean when I say “God”.
Communication hits a snag when one of us decides that the metaphor we are using is more than a description and must be taken literally. The metaphor that God is our heavenly Father is not intended to declare that God is male or female yet some will stake their faith on the understanding that God is a masculine Being. Perhaps that is why Moses forbids any graven images lest we take too literally and make concrete the metaphors and images we use to understand what cannot be fathomed by our finite minds. When we limit God to the dimensions of a single or even a collection of metaphors we box God in, we define God as having limits.
I can see you need another cup. Stick with me on this for it’s about to take a serious turn. I’ll be right back.
Unless you’re an English major you probably haven’t used the word “metaphor” in conversation since getting out of school. When we speak of something spiritual—that which we cannot see, taste, touch, hear—whether it refers to a being or an experience, the only way we can have such a conversation is to use ‘words’ that are descriptive. The problem with spiritual matters is: how do you describe something you can’t see, hear, or touch? Answer: we use words that compare the ‘spiritual’ with those things that we experience as concrete, material, or, if not, at least common to our knowledge.
I’m not an English major but let me attempt to distinguish between a metaphor and a simile—I’m going to get mail on this one. A simile is descriptive and uses ‘as’ or ‘like’. You might say, “My love is like a red, red rose.” But an entirely different level of comparison happens if you say, “My love is a red, red rose.” The comparison is deeper, relies on an assumed shared experience, and asks us to accept one thing as being another. Such a comparison is called a metaphor.
When I ask someone to give me a quality or description of God a common response is, “God is love”. And, even though love is not something you can put under a microscope or grow in a laboratory, enough of us have experienced love of one kind or another so we have a common understanding of the meaning we are attempting to convey. We understand the mystery of love, or at least have waded into it far enough to have grasped the concept, and therefore to compare that to God carries a reasonable and intelligent understanding about “God”.
In the writings of Judaism there are many names for and descriptions of God. Among these are, “God is my fortress” or “God is my rock”. Some even become local to a limited setting, “The Lion of Judah” or “The rose of Sharon”. That’s not to say that God is literally a fortress, a rock, a flower, or a lion. The word is drawing a comparison of a quality that has been experienced or that has a deeper meaning so others who share this common experience would likely nod in agreement, “Yes, that is how I see God.” Such metaphorical, poetic if you will, usage helps us attach concrete images to that which can only be imagined. Since I cannot open your mind to look inside, words are as close as I can get to verifying that you comprehend what I mean when I say “God”.
Communication hits a snag when one of us decides that the metaphor we are using is more than a description and must be taken literally. The metaphor that God is our heavenly Father is not intended to declare that God is male or female yet some will stake their faith on the understanding that God is a masculine Being. Perhaps that is why Moses forbids any graven images lest we take too literally and make concrete the metaphors and images we use to understand what cannot be fathomed by our finite minds. When we limit God to the dimensions of a single or even a collection of metaphors we box God in, we define God as having limits.
I can see you need another cup. Stick with me on this for it’s about to take a serious turn. I’ll be right back.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Not Everyone Sees It That Way
Sorry to take so long. Grab a cup and let’s talk a bit about where all this might be going. When a theory has been around for as long as Anselm’s we make it almost sacred. And, in the life of the church, that is what has happened. Anselm’s substitution theory is steeped in our hymns, our theology, and literally so deep in our vocabulary that we cannot speak Christian without it.
Most folks in the church would be surprised to learn that the metaphor for interpreting how Jesus’ death saved the world did not appear until the middle centuries of the current era. It seems almost heresy to acknowledge that Anselm’s theory was not part of Jesus’ own teachings. That’s how difficult it is for us to see past this idea of Jesus’ suffering and death being the punishment he absorbed for our sins.
Now there is a positive side to Anselm’s metaphor and that is the love of God Jesus portrays by putting himself in our place. But for modern thinkers can that image balance the injustice of a God who would require the innocent to suffer? However, we need more than just what is wrong with Anselm’s imagery. A new generation seeking to equate a God consciousness with a modern world view has a need for fresh metaphors that will give eyes to Jesus’ life and death as having a greater purpose than suffering. We need an understanding that will move God beyond these obstacles.
On previous pages I have offered a few suggestions. You’re invited to hold on to any one, or more than one, if it makes sense to you. In my reading of scripture and early church fathers there was no single metaphor for how Jesus saves. Paul used several images in his letters to the churches including that of sacrifice, substitution, ransom (not that of modern day “holding for ransom” but rather the purchasing of freedom for a slave who had become indebted to a master), adoption, and even God marking a new beginning with Jesus being the new Adam. Clearly Paul was searching for the most effective metaphor to convey the work of God realizing that some parallels would strike a harmonious chord with his listeners more so than others.
As mentioned previously, Girard’s “scapegoat” theory, that shares similarities with Abelard’s “moral influence”, has stirred a number of books: James Alison, Raising Abel and J. Denny Weaver The Nonviolent Atonement are but two. These writers offer options for our consideration that might be more palatable with modern minds. It is the options that are important here not just the conclusions. We don’t have to toss the baby out with the bath water. There are other ways to see the life and death of Jesus that can have meaning and inspire faith.
Okay, out of coffee and I haven’t delivered all of what I promised. So let me grind a few beans and when that’s done I’ll tell you what works for me. No promise it will work for you but that’s for you to decide.
Most folks in the church would be surprised to learn that the metaphor for interpreting how Jesus’ death saved the world did not appear until the middle centuries of the current era. It seems almost heresy to acknowledge that Anselm’s theory was not part of Jesus’ own teachings. That’s how difficult it is for us to see past this idea of Jesus’ suffering and death being the punishment he absorbed for our sins.
Now there is a positive side to Anselm’s metaphor and that is the love of God Jesus portrays by putting himself in our place. But for modern thinkers can that image balance the injustice of a God who would require the innocent to suffer? However, we need more than just what is wrong with Anselm’s imagery. A new generation seeking to equate a God consciousness with a modern world view has a need for fresh metaphors that will give eyes to Jesus’ life and death as having a greater purpose than suffering. We need an understanding that will move God beyond these obstacles.
On previous pages I have offered a few suggestions. You’re invited to hold on to any one, or more than one, if it makes sense to you. In my reading of scripture and early church fathers there was no single metaphor for how Jesus saves. Paul used several images in his letters to the churches including that of sacrifice, substitution, ransom (not that of modern day “holding for ransom” but rather the purchasing of freedom for a slave who had become indebted to a master), adoption, and even God marking a new beginning with Jesus being the new Adam. Clearly Paul was searching for the most effective metaphor to convey the work of God realizing that some parallels would strike a harmonious chord with his listeners more so than others.
As mentioned previously, Girard’s “scapegoat” theory, that shares similarities with Abelard’s “moral influence”, has stirred a number of books: James Alison, Raising Abel and J. Denny Weaver The Nonviolent Atonement are but two. These writers offer options for our consideration that might be more palatable with modern minds. It is the options that are important here not just the conclusions. We don’t have to toss the baby out with the bath water. There are other ways to see the life and death of Jesus that can have meaning and inspire faith.
Okay, out of coffee and I haven’t delivered all of what I promised. So let me grind a few beans and when that’s done I’ll tell you what works for me. No promise it will work for you but that’s for you to decide.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Elephant In The Room
Thank you, it is good coffee. Comes from Central Market; Dallas Blend. I try to stick with decaf myself so one cup's my limit. But you’re welcome to more.
Where was I? Oh, yes, there is a long list of well respected theologians, as well as atheist, who have recently published books attempting to understand the human condition and our relationship to the universe. The late, highly respected theologian William Placard summarized his view recently in an essay, that served as a guide for this series of blogs, but admits that none,including his own, are sufficiently perfect. What some find as inspiring others simply say doesn’t work for them. Girard’s theory, cited in the previous column, has indeed redirected the conversation but if Jesus was to be the ultimate scapegoat, Placard points out, the past 2000 years have not lessened our human ability to perpetuate this destructive process.
Granted, a number of folks will say, “Hey wait. Why fix what isn’t broken?” These obviously find Anselm’s theory working quite well for them and if you fall into this category I’d suggest you stick with Anselm. But the elephant in the room is that it isn’t working for a growing number of our youth who are not only leaving Christianity but denying the need for any religion.
Safe to say no one has deployed a “silver bullet” or come up with the “killer app” that is the be-all-to-end-all when it comes to the answer for how God saves the world. And though Christianity is the largest religious body--with something like 2 billion adherents in a world of 6 billion people--it is no longer the fastest growing, nor has it historically done well in cultures where other religious beliefs seem to have greater traction. The most telling truth may be in our own backyard where, in spite of record numbers of people flocking to mega churches, the fasting growing segment of the population, who are also the youngest, are not Christian or Muslim but non believers.
Finding a sufficient answer will require acknowledging the need for one. This does not mean we throw out what others find acceptable. But we will have to agree that since all of our answers require metaphor, that is, comparison to something concrete in this world, we can expect no one analogy to be perfect. As Anselm’s “substitutionary atonement” theory fit the understanding of his society we need to find an acceptable metaphor for future generations in our developed world.
Let me warm your coffee and I’ll give you a few suggestions of where top thinkers are going with this question.
Where was I? Oh, yes, there is a long list of well respected theologians, as well as atheist, who have recently published books attempting to understand the human condition and our relationship to the universe. The late, highly respected theologian William Placard summarized his view recently in an essay, that served as a guide for this series of blogs, but admits that none,including his own, are sufficiently perfect. What some find as inspiring others simply say doesn’t work for them. Girard’s theory, cited in the previous column, has indeed redirected the conversation but if Jesus was to be the ultimate scapegoat, Placard points out, the past 2000 years have not lessened our human ability to perpetuate this destructive process.
Granted, a number of folks will say, “Hey wait. Why fix what isn’t broken?” These obviously find Anselm’s theory working quite well for them and if you fall into this category I’d suggest you stick with Anselm. But the elephant in the room is that it isn’t working for a growing number of our youth who are not only leaving Christianity but denying the need for any religion.
Safe to say no one has deployed a “silver bullet” or come up with the “killer app” that is the be-all-to-end-all when it comes to the answer for how God saves the world. And though Christianity is the largest religious body--with something like 2 billion adherents in a world of 6 billion people--it is no longer the fastest growing, nor has it historically done well in cultures where other religious beliefs seem to have greater traction. The most telling truth may be in our own backyard where, in spite of record numbers of people flocking to mega churches, the fasting growing segment of the population, who are also the youngest, are not Christian or Muslim but non believers.
Finding a sufficient answer will require acknowledging the need for one. This does not mean we throw out what others find acceptable. But we will have to agree that since all of our answers require metaphor, that is, comparison to something concrete in this world, we can expect no one analogy to be perfect. As Anselm’s “substitutionary atonement” theory fit the understanding of his society we need to find an acceptable metaphor for future generations in our developed world.
Let me warm your coffee and I’ll give you a few suggestions of where top thinkers are going with this question.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Enlightenment
We can talk while the coffee's brewing. Not quite a century later Peter Abelard objected to Anselm’s 12th century interpretation of how it is that Jesus’ death saves the world. Abelard thought he had a better idea and believed what Jesus did was show that we could live at a higher level of human kindness than previously accepted. The love of Jesus portrays not only the supreme love God has for us but becomes the inspiration for the love we can have for God and for our neighbor.
Abelard’s “moral influence” theory has been judged by history as being a bit too optimistic as the following centuries did not produce the inspirational change in lives it proposed. So even though Anselm’s theory of Jesus being our substitute was slightly wounded it lived on as the most prevalent view of how Jesus saves.
Not until the 19th and 20th century when cultural influences from the enlightenment spurred renewed debate have other weighty theories begun to emerge. Swedish theologian Gustaf Aulen challenged Anselm’s thinking in his book Christus Victor in 1931. Aulen focused on the earliest years of the Church when the dominant view was that humans, due to sin, had fallen under the control of Satan. In Aulen’s theory, God defeats Satan by deceiving him with the fully divine, fully human character of Jesus--someone Satan could not redirect towards selfish evil. Though popular for several decades the enlightened, scientific world was increasingly weary of the personification of evil as having power over humans or that evil could hold humans hostage and God helpless.
Philosopher Rene Girard, born in France in 1923, was American educated and spent most of his career at Stanford, offers a classic modern view of how Jesus saves that does not include the need for a cosmic figure of evil. In three books Girard proposes our human need for a “scapegoat”, i.e., someone or a group of people to be identified as the source of our problem and the focus of our rejection.
The emerging science of psychology framed the human problem as based in our competitive nature that desires what belongs to others mostly because they wanted it first. Our desire to have what belongs to others leads to violence. To deflect our desires and the resulting violence in order that we might securely live in community we direct our violence toward a scapegoat. Modern scapegoats have been Jews and Communists while today gays and illegal immigrants are good examples.
Girard’s scapegoat theory has recently inspired a number of books, several a year in fact, by some very highly respected theologians. Appealing to the enlightened, modern mind is the symbol of Jesus as the definitive example of a scapegoat being innocent. Girard sites other Biblical and historical characters whose lives conveyed the same truth. The point being that violence does not expel violence. The saving act of Jesus has been to reveal this truth and how acknowledging it breaks the cycle of violence. Girard’s hope, and that of many others, is by opening our eyes to the fallacy of deceit and violence the reign of God becomes a reality as we then learn to live in peace.
Coffee’s ready. You’re going to need it for what comes next.
Abelard’s “moral influence” theory has been judged by history as being a bit too optimistic as the following centuries did not produce the inspirational change in lives it proposed. So even though Anselm’s theory of Jesus being our substitute was slightly wounded it lived on as the most prevalent view of how Jesus saves.
Not until the 19th and 20th century when cultural influences from the enlightenment spurred renewed debate have other weighty theories begun to emerge. Swedish theologian Gustaf Aulen challenged Anselm’s thinking in his book Christus Victor in 1931. Aulen focused on the earliest years of the Church when the dominant view was that humans, due to sin, had fallen under the control of Satan. In Aulen’s theory, God defeats Satan by deceiving him with the fully divine, fully human character of Jesus--someone Satan could not redirect towards selfish evil. Though popular for several decades the enlightened, scientific world was increasingly weary of the personification of evil as having power over humans or that evil could hold humans hostage and God helpless.
Philosopher Rene Girard, born in France in 1923, was American educated and spent most of his career at Stanford, offers a classic modern view of how Jesus saves that does not include the need for a cosmic figure of evil. In three books Girard proposes our human need for a “scapegoat”, i.e., someone or a group of people to be identified as the source of our problem and the focus of our rejection.
The emerging science of psychology framed the human problem as based in our competitive nature that desires what belongs to others mostly because they wanted it first. Our desire to have what belongs to others leads to violence. To deflect our desires and the resulting violence in order that we might securely live in community we direct our violence toward a scapegoat. Modern scapegoats have been Jews and Communists while today gays and illegal immigrants are good examples.
Girard’s scapegoat theory has recently inspired a number of books, several a year in fact, by some very highly respected theologians. Appealing to the enlightened, modern mind is the symbol of Jesus as the definitive example of a scapegoat being innocent. Girard sites other Biblical and historical characters whose lives conveyed the same truth. The point being that violence does not expel violence. The saving act of Jesus has been to reveal this truth and how acknowledging it breaks the cycle of violence. Girard’s hope, and that of many others, is by opening our eyes to the fallacy of deceit and violence the reign of God becomes a reality as we then learn to live in peace.
Coffee’s ready. You’re going to need it for what comes next.
Monday, June 8, 2009
The Past Holds Secrets To The Future
Grab a cup I want to tell you about one of the most influential preachers in Church history. Anselm of Canterbury goes back to the 1100’s, born in Italy, educated in France, and appointed by the Pope to England. Well traveled this theologian and preacher engaged the hot religious topic of his day: How does the life and death of Jesus save the world? Anselm’s new thinking not only made sense to his listeners but is still the most dominant theory in evangelical Christianity. The question for today is will this 900 year-old theory remain relevant for the 21st century?
In Anselm’s day there was a rigid social order. You were born into a social class that ranged from royalty to peasantry and that class determined your role in society. Behavior, respect and honor were given to the upper class and those below were expected to be gracious. If a peasant, slave or commoner were to offend someone above them there were certain retributions encountered in order to repay or re-balance this dishonor.
Anselm applied this common example to the logic of how Jesus saves. God being the pinnacle of royalty is dishonored by our sin, our lack of respect for God’s creation, and our immorality that takes creation in a direction God did not intend. Justice demands some form of re-balancing in the social order to restore the loss of honor caused by our sin.
The problem, like that in the rigid social order of his day, is if you are at the bottom of the social order you have no proper status to repay someone at the top of the social order. Someone of equal royal status must intercede for you.
Anselm proposed that the role of Jesus is to be the one who intercedes, sacrifices his life, and becomes our substitute for re-balancing the injustice and restoring the honor due God. Anselm’s theory is referred to today as “subsitutionary atonement”.
As in most concepts of how God works in relationship to creation, Anselm’s theory was not without critics. Less than a century later Peter Abelard raised a moral objection, “How cruel and wicked that anyone should demand the blood of an innocent person as the price for anything…still less that God should consider the death of his son so agreeable that by it he should be reconciled to the whole world!” In other words, how can God feel good about any innocent person suffering or count it as credit to another’s sin?
Though at the heart of what most of us hear taught, preached, and regularly sing in our hymns this moral objection seems to register with many today. The heroic suffering of Jesus has for centuries been used to perpetuate the suffering and injustice of the innocent when at times the Church has encouraged abuse of the innocent by declaring suffering to be honorably like that of Jesus and one of the ways we enter into Christ likeness.
In a new age of human rights Anselm’s theory has been losing respect. When the progressive world is on record objecting to the dehumanization and abuse of people on the basis of race, class, or gender, can we morally continue to interpret the saving act of Jesus along the lines of what some would say could be construed as divine child abuse?
Well, I guess no theory is absolutely perfect. The world is changing and Abelard’s objection to Anselm’s theory is more pertinent today than ever before. But first, I’m out of coffee; don’t go away. You’ll want to hear about Abelard’s theory for how Jesus saves that is making a comeback in our modern world.
In Anselm’s day there was a rigid social order. You were born into a social class that ranged from royalty to peasantry and that class determined your role in society. Behavior, respect and honor were given to the upper class and those below were expected to be gracious. If a peasant, slave or commoner were to offend someone above them there were certain retributions encountered in order to repay or re-balance this dishonor.
Anselm applied this common example to the logic of how Jesus saves. God being the pinnacle of royalty is dishonored by our sin, our lack of respect for God’s creation, and our immorality that takes creation in a direction God did not intend. Justice demands some form of re-balancing in the social order to restore the loss of honor caused by our sin.
The problem, like that in the rigid social order of his day, is if you are at the bottom of the social order you have no proper status to repay someone at the top of the social order. Someone of equal royal status must intercede for you.
Anselm proposed that the role of Jesus is to be the one who intercedes, sacrifices his life, and becomes our substitute for re-balancing the injustice and restoring the honor due God. Anselm’s theory is referred to today as “subsitutionary atonement”.
As in most concepts of how God works in relationship to creation, Anselm’s theory was not without critics. Less than a century later Peter Abelard raised a moral objection, “How cruel and wicked that anyone should demand the blood of an innocent person as the price for anything…still less that God should consider the death of his son so agreeable that by it he should be reconciled to the whole world!” In other words, how can God feel good about any innocent person suffering or count it as credit to another’s sin?
Though at the heart of what most of us hear taught, preached, and regularly sing in our hymns this moral objection seems to register with many today. The heroic suffering of Jesus has for centuries been used to perpetuate the suffering and injustice of the innocent when at times the Church has encouraged abuse of the innocent by declaring suffering to be honorably like that of Jesus and one of the ways we enter into Christ likeness.
In a new age of human rights Anselm’s theory has been losing respect. When the progressive world is on record objecting to the dehumanization and abuse of people on the basis of race, class, or gender, can we morally continue to interpret the saving act of Jesus along the lines of what some would say could be construed as divine child abuse?
Well, I guess no theory is absolutely perfect. The world is changing and Abelard’s objection to Anselm’s theory is more pertinent today than ever before. But first, I’m out of coffee; don’t go away. You’ll want to hear about Abelard’s theory for how Jesus saves that is making a comeback in our modern world.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Growing Up Near The Buckle of the Bible Belt
Mom and Dad Wisdom lived near the buckle of the Bible belt; drove us to Sunday school every Sunday right passed that church with the neon cross flashing the truth known to all, “Jesus Saves”. There was no debate about “how” just that it was an unquestioned fact. Little did mom and dad suspect they were part of a society raising a generation that would question everything. Even the church’s sacred orthodoxy would not be safe in an increasingly scientific, modern world.
The Apostle Paul was the first published writer of the early church and clearly his calling was to take Jesus to the Gentiles—the Greek/Roman communities of the Empire. Paul translated the life and thinking of this Semitic prophet to a community more familiar with Greek philosophy than Jewish theology. The early church fathers were from these same communities, long familiar with wrestling the ancient questions regarding the world, the universe, from where it all came, and who was in control, if anyone.
Most modern scholars recognize the influence of Aristotle and Plato on the culture in which the understanding of Jesus was being shaped. For the first few centuries the church focused more on his person with questions about how and if Jesus was God. And, if Jesus is God, how then did that fit into the picture of monotheism (one God)? Great historical road maps were hammered out during the first four centuries resulting in creeds and doctrines like that of The Trinity, The Apostle’s Creed and especially the Nicene Creed. Read again this last creed and you’ll since the deep struggles were about the nature of Jesus more so than how Jesus saved.
There was an underlying premise to these discussions similar to that of the world being flat--no one would really think otherwise for another thousand years. The premise of these earliest philosophers and scientist was an understanding this “creation” in which we lived was not the real world. The real world was actually the "spiritual" world of God (or in this Greek/Roman culture, the world of many different gods contesting for power). The physical world was both a reflection of and the result of what was happening in that parallel universe that remained unseen. The “cosmos” out there beyond the world we can see is God’s world. That world was real and permanent. This world was not.
The Church’s mission, to build a bridge between the Greek/Roman world and Jewish orthodoxy, was aided by the common human quest to explain the ongoing battle between the powers of good and evil. Satan, from the Jewish context, as a fallen angel represented that which was evil and dark (darkness coming from ancient Persian thought that influenced both Jewish and Greek thinking). Goodness, represented by God/Jesus, was the nature of all that was light and positive. John’s gospel to the Hellenistic community at the end of the first or beginning of the second century begins, “…[I]n him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” nsrv
Convincing this new world that Jesus was the decisive witness of God’s power to over come evil and thereby save humans in this world and the next would depend on making a convincing case for Jesus being God in human form; totally divine and totally human. The Greek/Roman culture with its rich history in philosophy and mythology became a fertile garden in which the church grew by leaps and bounds.
Overcoming evil in this world and providing a path to that spiritual (real) world became a matter of having faith like that of Jesus; faith that God’s power was sufficient to conquer darkness. Following the way of Jesus, possessing faith in God as did Jesus, and thereby belonging to the “saved” community through baptism made you one in Christ. Being “In” Christ meant you were safely saved for that real world to come. Case closed.
But closed only until the 12th century when archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm, would translate Jesus’ role as spiritual savior in a different way. His thinking would become the lens through which most Christians today understand how Jesus Saves.
Let me warm-up your coffee. Back before you know it.
The Apostle Paul was the first published writer of the early church and clearly his calling was to take Jesus to the Gentiles—the Greek/Roman communities of the Empire. Paul translated the life and thinking of this Semitic prophet to a community more familiar with Greek philosophy than Jewish theology. The early church fathers were from these same communities, long familiar with wrestling the ancient questions regarding the world, the universe, from where it all came, and who was in control, if anyone.
Most modern scholars recognize the influence of Aristotle and Plato on the culture in which the understanding of Jesus was being shaped. For the first few centuries the church focused more on his person with questions about how and if Jesus was God. And, if Jesus is God, how then did that fit into the picture of monotheism (one God)? Great historical road maps were hammered out during the first four centuries resulting in creeds and doctrines like that of The Trinity, The Apostle’s Creed and especially the Nicene Creed. Read again this last creed and you’ll since the deep struggles were about the nature of Jesus more so than how Jesus saved.
There was an underlying premise to these discussions similar to that of the world being flat--no one would really think otherwise for another thousand years. The premise of these earliest philosophers and scientist was an understanding this “creation” in which we lived was not the real world. The real world was actually the "spiritual" world of God (or in this Greek/Roman culture, the world of many different gods contesting for power). The physical world was both a reflection of and the result of what was happening in that parallel universe that remained unseen. The “cosmos” out there beyond the world we can see is God’s world. That world was real and permanent. This world was not.
The Church’s mission, to build a bridge between the Greek/Roman world and Jewish orthodoxy, was aided by the common human quest to explain the ongoing battle between the powers of good and evil. Satan, from the Jewish context, as a fallen angel represented that which was evil and dark (darkness coming from ancient Persian thought that influenced both Jewish and Greek thinking). Goodness, represented by God/Jesus, was the nature of all that was light and positive. John’s gospel to the Hellenistic community at the end of the first or beginning of the second century begins, “…[I]n him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” nsrv
Convincing this new world that Jesus was the decisive witness of God’s power to over come evil and thereby save humans in this world and the next would depend on making a convincing case for Jesus being God in human form; totally divine and totally human. The Greek/Roman culture with its rich history in philosophy and mythology became a fertile garden in which the church grew by leaps and bounds.
Overcoming evil in this world and providing a path to that spiritual (real) world became a matter of having faith like that of Jesus; faith that God’s power was sufficient to conquer darkness. Following the way of Jesus, possessing faith in God as did Jesus, and thereby belonging to the “saved” community through baptism made you one in Christ. Being “In” Christ meant you were safely saved for that real world to come. Case closed.
But closed only until the 12th century when archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm, would translate Jesus’ role as spiritual savior in a different way. His thinking would become the lens through which most Christians today understand how Jesus Saves.
Let me warm-up your coffee. Back before you know it.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
“Hmmm, haven’t done that in a long time,” was the first thing that popped into my mind. It was in response to a request to preach, or teach, a series on how to understand the Christian doctrine of The Trinity, i.e., One God in Three Persons. My guess is that most of us have wrestled with this image of God and either come away with an analogy that works for you, or have been left totally confused or have decided to just accept this on faith while leaving the details to heavier thinkers.
But in a modern world were the fastest growing segment of our population is prone to find fault with any concept of God and where people of other faiths want to know our understanding of God, leaving the sticky details to someone else can be problematic.
As far back as the first century the Church has struggled to explain Jesus’ divine nature, his connection to the "One" God found in the Hebrew Scriptures, and the profound evidence of God’s work in the world that continues in Jesus’ absence.
Adding to the confusion is the fact that you won’t find the doctrine of Trinity spoken of in the Bible, at least not in a direct way. What we have are words and stories that portray God as directly involved in the creation and maintenance of the world while at other times such work is attributed to God’s Spirit. In the “New” Testament there is the story of Jesus along with the earliest history account of how the church was formed by the work of the Spirit and the letters from church leaders that chronicle the Spirit of the Risen Christ continuing to work in and through them. As the Church struggled to connect these three the doctrine of the Trinity emerged.
Books upon books have been written on this doctrine but can this holy mystery of the One who is Three be made simple or is it doomed to eternal confusion? If you’re like me some of the best analogies leave me scratching my head. And, though you may choose to stop reading now, I don’t promise these to be any better.
But, before going further, keep this in mind when developing your understanding of God: all of what we communicate about God has one, very big, obvious limitation, we can only use words to describe our experience of God. Usually we use our words to draw comparisons to things that are more concrete and universal in our experience. There is no other way. Words and comparisons are all we have. Attempting to prove otherwise will only confirm the obvious.
So with that limitation and being a pretty simple thinker, here are two analogies that help me see the picture in the puzzle. Both speak of our perception of God related to time and space. Our perception of and relationship to any being determines how we experience that being and thus our description of what that being is like. Example: I am one person but I am to some a father, to another a husband, to another a son, and to some a pastor—sorry, I know I should have stopped at three.
When we speak of God as Creator (or Father), Redeemer (or Son), and Sustainer (or Spirit) we are expressing at a particular time and place how we, or others, have experienced God.
A second comparison coincidentally involves one of the essential elements for life. Water is two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen and it is found in three forms: solid, a liquid, and a gas. The characteristics of water are different depending on the circumstances in which it is found yet it is at its core, H2O. No matter the form the basic composition remains unchanged.
I’ll let you take it from here. Until next time, are there other analogies you find helpful?
– Pastor Gene
But in a modern world were the fastest growing segment of our population is prone to find fault with any concept of God and where people of other faiths want to know our understanding of God, leaving the sticky details to someone else can be problematic.
As far back as the first century the Church has struggled to explain Jesus’ divine nature, his connection to the "One" God found in the Hebrew Scriptures, and the profound evidence of God’s work in the world that continues in Jesus’ absence.
Adding to the confusion is the fact that you won’t find the doctrine of Trinity spoken of in the Bible, at least not in a direct way. What we have are words and stories that portray God as directly involved in the creation and maintenance of the world while at other times such work is attributed to God’s Spirit. In the “New” Testament there is the story of Jesus along with the earliest history account of how the church was formed by the work of the Spirit and the letters from church leaders that chronicle the Spirit of the Risen Christ continuing to work in and through them. As the Church struggled to connect these three the doctrine of the Trinity emerged.
Books upon books have been written on this doctrine but can this holy mystery of the One who is Three be made simple or is it doomed to eternal confusion? If you’re like me some of the best analogies leave me scratching my head. And, though you may choose to stop reading now, I don’t promise these to be any better.
But, before going further, keep this in mind when developing your understanding of God: all of what we communicate about God has one, very big, obvious limitation, we can only use words to describe our experience of God. Usually we use our words to draw comparisons to things that are more concrete and universal in our experience. There is no other way. Words and comparisons are all we have. Attempting to prove otherwise will only confirm the obvious.
So with that limitation and being a pretty simple thinker, here are two analogies that help me see the picture in the puzzle. Both speak of our perception of God related to time and space. Our perception of and relationship to any being determines how we experience that being and thus our description of what that being is like. Example: I am one person but I am to some a father, to another a husband, to another a son, and to some a pastor—sorry, I know I should have stopped at three.
When we speak of God as Creator (or Father), Redeemer (or Son), and Sustainer (or Spirit) we are expressing at a particular time and place how we, or others, have experienced God.
A second comparison coincidentally involves one of the essential elements for life. Water is two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen and it is found in three forms: solid, a liquid, and a gas. The characteristics of water are different depending on the circumstances in which it is found yet it is at its core, H2O. No matter the form the basic composition remains unchanged.
I’ll let you take it from here. Until next time, are there other analogies you find helpful?
– Pastor Gene
Sunday, May 10, 2009
just getting started
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