On Sunday, we took a look at one of Chesterton's most well-known stories; "the Lamp Post", from his book, Heretics. In the introduction to The Everlasting Man, we encounter two more tales: "the boy who leaves home to find a giant" and "man meets horse." All of these stories are about perspective and how we see the world, especially how Christians should see the world or, as the Apostle John put it, the cosmos. ("The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever." 1John 2:17)
The main premise of The Everlasting Man is that the world, as well as many who claim to be Christians, do not see the Church correctly, and therefore do not understand it or follow it, because they are viewing it from the wrong perspective. He writes, "The point of this book, in other words, is that the next best thing to being really inside Christendom is to be really outside it." (p. 9) And to illustrate this he tells a little tale about a boy who leaves his family farm on the hillside in search of "something, such as the effigy and grave of some giant." Having traveled far and long, he turns around to catch one last glimpse of home, only to see a gigantic figure carved in the hillside above the farm. The traces of the giant had been with him all the time; he had been to close to them to see it. Chesterton is telling us that, in order to get a firm grip on what Christianity is and what it means, we must every so often step back from it and see it from a perspective that is far removed from it or what it has become. Then we well see the faith with a renewed clarity -- we will dive again into the wonder of all the things we have yet to know, learn and experience.
To further illustrate this point, Chesterton remarks that perhaps we should look at Christianity from some sort of alien viewpoint, say, that of a "Confucian." He is so sufficiently different from a Christian that his line of thinking on our faith will open up new vistas of understanding for us; he will, quite innocently, help us to see the Cross, "towering over the wrecks of time." Several years ago, when I was teaching a high school Bible class, I had an experience that illustrates this perfectly. In an attempt to get my students to see Jesus as the unique person who he truly is, I showed them clips from the movie Godspell. The music from this work had greatly influenced me as at teenager, when it opened my eyes to the greater world of Christianity beyond my rigid Baptist upbringing. ("All good gifts around us, are sent from heaven above -- So praise the Lord, Oh, praise the Lord, for all his love.) But when my students saw it, they laughed, nervously, really, because it was so unlike any mundane Sunday School story of Jesus they had ever heard. They weren't ready to sing and dance and wear the colorful clothes of what redemption really is and to know the Christ who invites us into his unending joy.
And herein lies Chesterton's most important point -- most of us are neither too close nor far enough way in our view of Christianity. We "...cannot get out of the penumbra of Christian controversy... [we] live in the shadow of the faith and have lost the light of the faith." (p. 10,11) Chesterton linked this to the theological controversies of his day, but this intermediate view, this preoccupation with minor persuasions, has dogged the Church from the beginning and follows us still. Everybody seems to have something fixate upon -- music, money, lifestyle choices, social issues, even the fundamental meaning of the fundamentals themselves. But to see the faith in the clear light of the Gospel, we must travel to a far-off point indeed, one that stands outside of this world, somewhere in the neither-land between here and Heaven.
We should see this as a great, overwhelming vision of hope; a vision not unlike ancient man seeing a horse for the first time -- a great and powerful beast, looming above his head, yet inviting him to sit upon his back and go for a ride. As the cosmos presses in on us with ever-increasing intensity, we must with equal desire, as our Lord instructed us, "...lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." If we are looking towards heaven, or taking the view from heaven, we will see life in the proper perspective. To do so is to repossess the hope of Christianity, the certainty of the Kingdom that comes, a treasure "still as new as it is old." (p. 19)
Chesterton, G.K. The Everlasting Man. San Francisco, Ignatius Press, 1993, 2008.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
No perfect families
Someone has remarked that there are no "perfect" families mentioned in the Bible. When my husband and I heard this, we immediately tried to come up with evidence to the contrary. Jesus' family must have been ideal -- after all, Jesus himself was a most illustrious member of it, and he is the most perfect person who ever lived! But, upon close examination of the text, we learn that his family lived in the backwaters of Israel (Nazareth), his mom and dad mistakenly took off for home and left him in the temple, and his brothers and sisters thought he was crazy and tried to do an intervention to keep him from spouting all that nonsense about God being his real father!
We also thought of Noah and Mrs. Noah -- they stuck together through difficult and improbable circumstances, and Mrs. Noah heroically put up with her husband's boat-building hobby for all those years, and in the middle of the desert, for heaven's sake... And I thought of Isaiah and his wife (referred to as "the prophetess") who agreed to the crazy names he came up with for their sons -- "Shear-Jashub" and "Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz." (They don't get any better in English: "a remnant will return," and "quick to the plunder, swift to the spoil.")
The Bible stories are littered with tales of imperfect, less than ideal families. We read about incest, polygamy, arguing, murder (in the very first family!), adultery, wayward children, sickness and sorrow. It seems that every family takes up a cross of some kind; the greatest being in the family of our Lord, for as the elderly sage Simon prophesied to Mary: "a sword will pierce through your own soul also." At the foot of the cross, newly adopted into the disciple John's household, she felt the sword of separation from her firstborn son, who was, at the same time, in the dark agony of separation from God, his Father.
But, like so many things in the Bible, the point of the stories of imperfect families is not their brokenness, but their restoration, not their sin, but their salvation, not their failures, but their redemption. For Adam and Eve, it is baby Seth, the beginning of a long unbroken line to Christ, for Noah and his family, a second chance at life in this world, for Abraham and Sarah, a child so long-awaited, loved and unexpected that his birth resounds with joyful laughter. In every story, something comes along to wipe away the sorrow, even if it is only the promise of eternal life to come. Even in the story of Jesus's earthly family this rings true -- our last picture of them is found in Acts chapter 1-- "Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers" are gathered with his followers in the upper room, waiting for the Holy Spirit, who, as Jesus said, "will abide with you forever."
Perhaps the greatest lesson we can learn from the Biblical families is that the child of Bethlehem, when born in our hearts, is the one who brings peace and hope into our chaotic lives. When we become a member of his family, we are born into an eternal oneness with him and partake in the blessed position of sonship with him. "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God!" -- John writes with joyful pride. He will never abandon us, or make an unwise decision about our lives, or think of anything else as being of greater importance than his relationship with us. As children of God, we have truly found a forever home.
And during those dark times, when we look at our own families and despair, for many and complex reasons, we must bear in mind that "there is one God and Father of us all" who "works in all things for our good." He is, in his own and perfect way, working in each life, in each family, with an eternal purpose in mind, for a time when we will all be related and living in true relationship. There is no better description of Heaven than "home," because it illustrates to the fullest degree how God will take the broken, disconnected things of this life and make them perfectly whole. Until then the greatest work of love we can do for our families is to be redemptive in our relationships; to take the things that go wrong and, by the power of God's love and grace, turn them into something touched by goodness, set free to love and be loved.
We also thought of Noah and Mrs. Noah -- they stuck together through difficult and improbable circumstances, and Mrs. Noah heroically put up with her husband's boat-building hobby for all those years, and in the middle of the desert, for heaven's sake... And I thought of Isaiah and his wife (referred to as "the prophetess") who agreed to the crazy names he came up with for their sons -- "Shear-Jashub" and "Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz." (They don't get any better in English: "a remnant will return," and "quick to the plunder, swift to the spoil.")
The Bible stories are littered with tales of imperfect, less than ideal families. We read about incest, polygamy, arguing, murder (in the very first family!), adultery, wayward children, sickness and sorrow. It seems that every family takes up a cross of some kind; the greatest being in the family of our Lord, for as the elderly sage Simon prophesied to Mary: "a sword will pierce through your own soul also." At the foot of the cross, newly adopted into the disciple John's household, she felt the sword of separation from her firstborn son, who was, at the same time, in the dark agony of separation from God, his Father.
But, like so many things in the Bible, the point of the stories of imperfect families is not their brokenness, but their restoration, not their sin, but their salvation, not their failures, but their redemption. For Adam and Eve, it is baby Seth, the beginning of a long unbroken line to Christ, for Noah and his family, a second chance at life in this world, for Abraham and Sarah, a child so long-awaited, loved and unexpected that his birth resounds with joyful laughter. In every story, something comes along to wipe away the sorrow, even if it is only the promise of eternal life to come. Even in the story of Jesus's earthly family this rings true -- our last picture of them is found in Acts chapter 1-- "Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers" are gathered with his followers in the upper room, waiting for the Holy Spirit, who, as Jesus said, "will abide with you forever."
Perhaps the greatest lesson we can learn from the Biblical families is that the child of Bethlehem, when born in our hearts, is the one who brings peace and hope into our chaotic lives. When we become a member of his family, we are born into an eternal oneness with him and partake in the blessed position of sonship with him. "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God!" -- John writes with joyful pride. He will never abandon us, or make an unwise decision about our lives, or think of anything else as being of greater importance than his relationship with us. As children of God, we have truly found a forever home.
And during those dark times, when we look at our own families and despair, for many and complex reasons, we must bear in mind that "there is one God and Father of us all" who "works in all things for our good." He is, in his own and perfect way, working in each life, in each family, with an eternal purpose in mind, for a time when we will all be related and living in true relationship. There is no better description of Heaven than "home," because it illustrates to the fullest degree how God will take the broken, disconnected things of this life and make them perfectly whole. Until then the greatest work of love we can do for our families is to be redemptive in our relationships; to take the things that go wrong and, by the power of God's love and grace, turn them into something touched by goodness, set free to love and be loved.
Friday, October 4, 2013
Essence and Existence
Question 3 of Summa Theologica concerns "the simplicity of God." When we consider this question we are initially tempted to say (as we are of the Summa itself), "There's nothing simple about it!" That's because the medieval use of "simple" is different from today's usage. We think of simple as easy to grasp or understand, uncomplicated. They were thinking of oneness, or something that is a unity in itself. So, the question can be posed in terms of: "How is God one?" or, "How should we think about the oneness of God?"
He starts out by telling us that we cannot so much as know what or who God is, as we can think of it in terms of what he is not. He addresses the questions of whether God has a body, or if God is made up of matter and form together. The answer to both is no -- God is not corporal, and he is not matter, for he created it. He has a unique form, his essence; he is God and he is godly.
The question I am looking at here is (paraphrased): Are "essence" and "existence" the same thing in Who God is? Earlier, St. Thomas Aquinas has told us that God's essence and existence are the same thing, and we know this by his effects. For example, God is good to us (effect) because God is (existence) good (essence). Now he wants of dive deeper into why essence and existence are the same for God. I don't know if I've got all my ducks lined up in a row here; just think of it has mental gymnastics, and I probably won't get a 10. But these things are challenging to think about, and we all need to be challenged!
An objection of his to this is: God exists, but that is separate from what he is. Today, we are prone to separate the fact that God exists from his characteristics. We think more in terms of "God loves" than "God is love". God's very existence is viewed as just another of his traits. But that does not impress upon us the oneness of God. Although it is hard for us to do, we must think of God in greater terms than just what he does or what he is like. As God said to Isaiah, "I am the Lord, that is my name." (Isa.42:8) In response to this objection he gives a quote from St. Hilary, who opposed the Arian heresy in the 300's. "In God existence is not an accidental (non-substantial) quality, but subsisting truth." St. Thomas adds, "Therefore what subsists in God is his existence." St. Thomas then gives us 3 "proofs" for this concept.
1. In the case of things or people, existence is different from essence because it is either caused by an outside agent or it is an element of one's overall make-up. (The existence of heat is caused by fire; laughter is a part of humanness, he explains.) But, God is the First Cause of all existence outside of himself -- he is uncaused -- he simply is.
2. Existence makes things real, or, to use St. Thomas' word, "actual." Things are said to be real because they exist. Essence (the qualities of a thing) are part of its reality. If something that has essence is real, it must exist. (Apolo, my dog exists because he is a real dog. His doggyness is part of his reality. Apolo's doggyness is real (proven by his smell!), so he must exist!) In the world of things and people, existence can be real in a particular way (actual) or subject to change (potential). (Apolo is a certain age today, but he will get older.) But God, because his existence is (as in his name I AM), does not change; his reality is always constant.
3. Something (X) that is not something else (Y) may participate in (share in, be involved in) the something else (X in Y). But the existences are separate. A frog is in the water and it is wet, but the frog exists separate from the water. Also, the essences of a frog and water are different. But the water has an effect on the frog; it makes him wet. But God does not participate in anything else. He is singular, he is one, he is the beginning and the end, he is all in all.
So, God is God Who exists. Simple, but incomprehensible...
He starts out by telling us that we cannot so much as know what or who God is, as we can think of it in terms of what he is not. He addresses the questions of whether God has a body, or if God is made up of matter and form together. The answer to both is no -- God is not corporal, and he is not matter, for he created it. He has a unique form, his essence; he is God and he is godly.
The question I am looking at here is (paraphrased): Are "essence" and "existence" the same thing in Who God is? Earlier, St. Thomas Aquinas has told us that God's essence and existence are the same thing, and we know this by his effects. For example, God is good to us (effect) because God is (existence) good (essence). Now he wants of dive deeper into why essence and existence are the same for God. I don't know if I've got all my ducks lined up in a row here; just think of it has mental gymnastics, and I probably won't get a 10. But these things are challenging to think about, and we all need to be challenged!
An objection of his to this is: God exists, but that is separate from what he is. Today, we are prone to separate the fact that God exists from his characteristics. We think more in terms of "God loves" than "God is love". God's very existence is viewed as just another of his traits. But that does not impress upon us the oneness of God. Although it is hard for us to do, we must think of God in greater terms than just what he does or what he is like. As God said to Isaiah, "I am the Lord, that is my name." (Isa.42:8) In response to this objection he gives a quote from St. Hilary, who opposed the Arian heresy in the 300's. "In God existence is not an accidental (non-substantial) quality, but subsisting truth." St. Thomas adds, "Therefore what subsists in God is his existence." St. Thomas then gives us 3 "proofs" for this concept.
1. In the case of things or people, existence is different from essence because it is either caused by an outside agent or it is an element of one's overall make-up. (The existence of heat is caused by fire; laughter is a part of humanness, he explains.) But, God is the First Cause of all existence outside of himself -- he is uncaused -- he simply is.
2. Existence makes things real, or, to use St. Thomas' word, "actual." Things are said to be real because they exist. Essence (the qualities of a thing) are part of its reality. If something that has essence is real, it must exist. (Apolo, my dog exists because he is a real dog. His doggyness is part of his reality. Apolo's doggyness is real (proven by his smell!), so he must exist!) In the world of things and people, existence can be real in a particular way (actual) or subject to change (potential). (Apolo is a certain age today, but he will get older.) But God, because his existence is (as in his name I AM), does not change; his reality is always constant.
3. Something (X) that is not something else (Y) may participate in (share in, be involved in) the something else (X in Y). But the existences are separate. A frog is in the water and it is wet, but the frog exists separate from the water. Also, the essences of a frog and water are different. But the water has an effect on the frog; it makes him wet. But God does not participate in anything else. He is singular, he is one, he is the beginning and the end, he is all in all.
So, God is God Who exists. Simple, but incomprehensible...
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
A beginning and an ending
St. Thomas Aquinas is mainly known for the "median" of his life -- his great work Summa Theologica, which took him nine years to write and touches upon almost every area of Christian doctrine, and which, in the end, was never finished. But the beginning of the Summa, (i.e, the introduction, or prologue) and the way both the book and St. Thomas' life ended have much to say not only about who he was, but also about how we should look at the study of theology.
St. Thomas made his introduction short and sweet and to the point. He intends to "instruct beginners" in the science of theology. We cannot resist a bit of a chuckle at this statement, although I'm not so sure St. Thomas would get the joke. (A thousand pages of simplicity? Seriously?) However, it's not really so much that the Summa is complicated as it is dense. It is packed full of concentrated truth, and in order for us beginners to get it, we need to unpack it. He really does deal in the basics of the Christian faith, but to grasp what he is saying, one must constantly rephrase it in one's own terms and words. The Summa must be made personal so that it may become worthwhile. Yet once we become familiar with this mode of discourse, it becomes fascinating and, dare I say it, hard to put down.
St. Thomas also says that he wants to eliminate the useless questions and arguments and the repetition found in other theological texts. This seems a little funny as well, since his whole treatise is based on questions (423 of them!) and their accompanying arguments. But we must conclude, no doubt, that St. Thomas thought every single one was essential and practical! True to his word, he rarely repeats a thing, showing the amazing scope of his knowledge of spiritual things, his precise perception of truth, and his unfailing devotion to his task.
But, I believe, the impact of the Summa is best understood by the story of the end of St. Thomas Aquinas' life. In 1273, while part 3 of the Summa was being written, he is reported to have seen a vision of Christ who spoke to him and said, "You have written well of me, Thomas. What will you have as your reward?" To which he replied (as we all should), "Only thyself, Lord." After this experience, he stopped writing, giving this explanation, "I can write no more; compared with what I have seen, all I have written seem to me as straw." A short time later, he died and left the Summa unfinished. (Kreeft, p.33) He profoundly echoed the sentiments of the Apostle Paul, who wrote, "...I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things." (Phil. 3:8) He articulates for all of us who teach the Gospel the paradox of discussing spiritual truth -- how do you say something for which there are no earthly words? How do you explain the incomprehensible? Somehow it all seems like a heap of straw when set beside "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" -- the treasure we hold dear in jars of clay. (2Cor.4:6,7)
Whenever I consider the story of the end of St. Thomas Aquinas' life, I am reminded of the words of a song by the contemporary Christian singer and songwriter, Michael Card.
That is the mystery
More than you can see
Give up on your pondering
Fall down on your knees.
Or, as the Apostle Paul said, "Great is the mystery of godliness..." It is, of course, good and right to study Scripture and to contemplate the order of theology. It is immensely important to know God and to learn about his truth. But, in the end, it is all a great and powerful mystery, something that is certainly not fully known here on earth and which will be, to our eternal delight, explored infinitely in heaven. Seeing the mystery is heart of Christian theology; a vision that will transform our souls and set us on a collision course with the wonder that only the Spirit reveals. Everything else is just so much straw.
Kreeft, Peter. Summa of the Summa. San Francisco, Ignatius Press, 1990.
St. Thomas made his introduction short and sweet and to the point. He intends to "instruct beginners" in the science of theology. We cannot resist a bit of a chuckle at this statement, although I'm not so sure St. Thomas would get the joke. (A thousand pages of simplicity? Seriously?) However, it's not really so much that the Summa is complicated as it is dense. It is packed full of concentrated truth, and in order for us beginners to get it, we need to unpack it. He really does deal in the basics of the Christian faith, but to grasp what he is saying, one must constantly rephrase it in one's own terms and words. The Summa must be made personal so that it may become worthwhile. Yet once we become familiar with this mode of discourse, it becomes fascinating and, dare I say it, hard to put down.
St. Thomas also says that he wants to eliminate the useless questions and arguments and the repetition found in other theological texts. This seems a little funny as well, since his whole treatise is based on questions (423 of them!) and their accompanying arguments. But we must conclude, no doubt, that St. Thomas thought every single one was essential and practical! True to his word, he rarely repeats a thing, showing the amazing scope of his knowledge of spiritual things, his precise perception of truth, and his unfailing devotion to his task.
But, I believe, the impact of the Summa is best understood by the story of the end of St. Thomas Aquinas' life. In 1273, while part 3 of the Summa was being written, he is reported to have seen a vision of Christ who spoke to him and said, "You have written well of me, Thomas. What will you have as your reward?" To which he replied (as we all should), "Only thyself, Lord." After this experience, he stopped writing, giving this explanation, "I can write no more; compared with what I have seen, all I have written seem to me as straw." A short time later, he died and left the Summa unfinished. (Kreeft, p.33) He profoundly echoed the sentiments of the Apostle Paul, who wrote, "...I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things." (Phil. 3:8) He articulates for all of us who teach the Gospel the paradox of discussing spiritual truth -- how do you say something for which there are no earthly words? How do you explain the incomprehensible? Somehow it all seems like a heap of straw when set beside "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" -- the treasure we hold dear in jars of clay. (2Cor.4:6,7)
Whenever I consider the story of the end of St. Thomas Aquinas' life, I am reminded of the words of a song by the contemporary Christian singer and songwriter, Michael Card.
That is the mystery
More than you can see
Give up on your pondering
Fall down on your knees.
Or, as the Apostle Paul said, "Great is the mystery of godliness..." It is, of course, good and right to study Scripture and to contemplate the order of theology. It is immensely important to know God and to learn about his truth. But, in the end, it is all a great and powerful mystery, something that is certainly not fully known here on earth and which will be, to our eternal delight, explored infinitely in heaven. Seeing the mystery is heart of Christian theology; a vision that will transform our souls and set us on a collision course with the wonder that only the Spirit reveals. Everything else is just so much straw.
Kreeft, Peter. Summa of the Summa. San Francisco, Ignatius Press, 1990.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Literary apologetics
I first discovered literary apologetics when I looked up the blog Hieropraxis, written by Dr. Holly Ordway of Huston Baptist University. She defines literary apologetics as "presenting the truths of the Christian faith through literature." She also defines the mission of the blog as providing an "intersection of literature and faith, and of reason and imagination." Literary apologetics is a way for us to explore, think about and evaluate the truths of Christianity though the study of literature. Along the way, we use our minds to discover insights into the Christian life and find connections to Christian doctrine. The characters are our guides to right thinking; the plot lines our constructs for learning.
The literature itself does not need to be overtly Christian, but it should express truth or discuss it in some way. And it should stand on its own as well-written and meaningful. Unfortunately, a lot of what goes under the name of Christian literature today (novels in particular) does not earn high marks in either regard. Sometimes Christian terms are merely superimposed onto the narrative, making the truth a very shallow part of the whole. The main point of the story is just the plot itself which moves along with Christian labels attached to it. In other words, a great deal of Christian fiction is superficial, "feel good" kind of stuff. I, too, cringe when I see the Christian fiction shelf in the bookstore, or worse, in the CBD catalog.
Literary apologetics is also not necessarily the study of writings about the Christian faith, although it certainly includes this component. In fact, my husband, Michael and I started our journey into literary apologetics (long before we ever heard the term) by teaching a series on C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity in our Sunday class. And even before that, Michael taught a series on Pilgrim's Progress, probably the first class ever taught at our church on a work of literature, not a Christian lifestyle book. People were quite intrigued by it. Bear in mind that literary apologetics does not concern the study of the multitude of popular titles (or their ubiquitous cousins, the video series) devoted to the discussion of the Christian life.While these have their place, and may prove somewhat helpful, literary apologetics seeks to involve serious, thoughtful and engaging books which lead us to explore the truths, even the mysteries, of the Christian faith. Here's a list of a few of the books we have discussed in class, and their significance as literary apologetic works.
The literature itself does not need to be overtly Christian, but it should express truth or discuss it in some way. And it should stand on its own as well-written and meaningful. Unfortunately, a lot of what goes under the name of Christian literature today (novels in particular) does not earn high marks in either regard. Sometimes Christian terms are merely superimposed onto the narrative, making the truth a very shallow part of the whole. The main point of the story is just the plot itself which moves along with Christian labels attached to it. In other words, a great deal of Christian fiction is superficial, "feel good" kind of stuff. I, too, cringe when I see the Christian fiction shelf in the bookstore, or worse, in the CBD catalog.
Literary apologetics is also not necessarily the study of writings about the Christian faith, although it certainly includes this component. In fact, my husband, Michael and I started our journey into literary apologetics (long before we ever heard the term) by teaching a series on C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity in our Sunday class. And even before that, Michael taught a series on Pilgrim's Progress, probably the first class ever taught at our church on a work of literature, not a Christian lifestyle book. People were quite intrigued by it. Bear in mind that literary apologetics does not concern the study of the multitude of popular titles (or their ubiquitous cousins, the video series) devoted to the discussion of the Christian life.While these have their place, and may prove somewhat helpful, literary apologetics seeks to involve serious, thoughtful and engaging books which lead us to explore the truths, even the mysteries, of the Christian faith. Here's a list of a few of the books we have discussed in class, and their significance as literary apologetic works.
- Pilgrim's Progress: (Bunyan, 1678) This is the classic, definitive work on Christianity as a journey, and probably one of the first to deal with Christian worldview, as Pilgrim encounters situations along the way when he must choose to live out his faith. It is also a wonderful source of encouragement when dealing with the ups and downs of the Christian life.
- Paradise Lost: (Milton, 1667) This book contains classic descriptions of the spiritual universe of angels and demons. Though clearly a work of Milton's incredible imagination, it helps us to see the power and significance of that world, to which we most often turn a blind eye. Milton's evaluation of original sin is truly masterful and gives us insight into its pervasive influence. An interesting sidelight in the book is the many references to the scientific thought of his day, teaching us to be well-rounded in our interests.
- Divine Comedy: (Dante,1321) This book is much more that the Inferno section, which is taught today basically as horror genre. (Although I must admit it is fun to rank the frustrating events of the day according to their corresponding circle of hell!) I especially enjoyed the Pugatorio section because I saw in it so many parallels to our earthy journey. I also discovered the wonderful music highlighted by Dante at the end of each section and downloaded several pieces on I-tunes!
- Pensees: (Pascal, 1669) Pascal's brilliant and succinct insights into the timeless and universal condition of mankind are unequaled. His "all things considered" approach takes in reason and relationships, wretchedness and diversion, sin and salvation. Throughout, his devotion to Christ stands out as a shining beacon for his life and ours.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
The current state of apologetics
Awhile back, Krista Bontrager posted this question on her Facebook page, Theology Mom. "My humble assessment of the current state of apologetics: 1) a lot of hand wringing about young people leaving the church, 2) lots of repeating and recycling of old arguments, 3) not much happening in terms of developing new and novel arguments. I see these three items as related." Since my blog is about apologetics, I thought this would be a great statement to respond to, but since my response will be a trifle too long for Facebook, and since I'm so slow to getting around to doing things, I thought I'd give it a go here on Route 239.
First, I do agree that many evangelicals are engaging in hand wringing over the departure of young people from the church, but far less emotional effort is being expended on the reason for their exodus. I don't think that young people are leaving church over theological issues. They may be changing churches/denominations over theology or practice, but not leaving altogether. In other words, these youth have given some thought to theological issue "X" and have decided to join a group more in line with their conclusions. The ones who leave the church altogether have not given theology much thought at all. They don't know much about it and don't see the value in it, probably because their childhood church and perhaps their parents did not do a very good job of teaching them the fundamentals of the faith. Catechism and even good solid Sunday school lessons have gone the way of the dinosaurs in many evangelical churches.
When many of these young people reach adulthood, they suddenly realize that they don't know why they are going to church. It doesn't have any meaning for them, because it has lacked substance all along. In addition, they have gone through inconsistent experiences and mixed messages while growing up in the church. For example, they have been taught that divorce is wrong, but they have seen family friends or church leaders go through divorce. Or, they have gotten the impression that Christianity is all about rules, so they embrace grace instead, yet not fully understanding grace, they think it means they can do whatever they want and still be "ok." As apologists, we need to do a better job of convincing young people that there's something about the Christian faith that's worth saving and taking to heart, and we need to explain exactly what that is. This generation needs to embrace the faith as their own.
Second, I agree that there's a lot of repeating and recycling of old arguments. The most caustic of these (I think) is young earth creationism, because it keeps people trapped in an environment were they do not need to think. Arguments in this area are very cut and dried and delivered with a mind-numbing authoritarianism. I've had students who would never consider pondering another position on Creation, because they literally think they will get in trouble, so to speak, if they do. They are locked into that point of view by fear. Repeated and recycled arguments such as these indicate a lack of thought and the just-give-me-the-answers mentality. It's so much easier to cling to something safe than to spend the mental effort to learn something new or to see something in a different light.
Evidence-based apologetics was all the rage when I was growing up in the 70's, but it is not very convincing to today's post-modern generation. They have no interest in proving anything, because, as they see it, there's no truth to prove anyway. Trying to use the patterns of science in apologetics was fine for moderns, but in the end, it only proved to be trendy. The defense of the faith needs to be rooted in the classic lines of reasoning that the church has long embraced; in the creeds, the catechisms, the writings of the church fathers and in the words of Scripture itself.
Third, I'm not so sure that the problem is not the lack of new and novel arguments, because I think I've discovered many interesting ideas (floating about in the various forms of cyberspace) since I started writing about apologetics around five years ago. I think the greater problem is that the average church-goer has little exposure to new and novel arguments. Since my husband and I started teaching about apologetics and worldview about three years ago, we have had many people tell us that we talk about things they have never heard of before. But there again, people can't hear these things if they don't attend a class, and a lot of young Christians are not seeing their need for Christian education.
One of the responses to the original post on Theology Mom mentioned "literary apologetics,"and said that it might offer an exciting new option in the field of apologetics. I had not heard that term before, so imagine my surprise when I realized that Michael and I have been engaged in that type of apologetics in our class! (but that's a story for the next post...)
First, I do agree that many evangelicals are engaging in hand wringing over the departure of young people from the church, but far less emotional effort is being expended on the reason for their exodus. I don't think that young people are leaving church over theological issues. They may be changing churches/denominations over theology or practice, but not leaving altogether. In other words, these youth have given some thought to theological issue "X" and have decided to join a group more in line with their conclusions. The ones who leave the church altogether have not given theology much thought at all. They don't know much about it and don't see the value in it, probably because their childhood church and perhaps their parents did not do a very good job of teaching them the fundamentals of the faith. Catechism and even good solid Sunday school lessons have gone the way of the dinosaurs in many evangelical churches.
When many of these young people reach adulthood, they suddenly realize that they don't know why they are going to church. It doesn't have any meaning for them, because it has lacked substance all along. In addition, they have gone through inconsistent experiences and mixed messages while growing up in the church. For example, they have been taught that divorce is wrong, but they have seen family friends or church leaders go through divorce. Or, they have gotten the impression that Christianity is all about rules, so they embrace grace instead, yet not fully understanding grace, they think it means they can do whatever they want and still be "ok." As apologists, we need to do a better job of convincing young people that there's something about the Christian faith that's worth saving and taking to heart, and we need to explain exactly what that is. This generation needs to embrace the faith as their own.
Second, I agree that there's a lot of repeating and recycling of old arguments. The most caustic of these (I think) is young earth creationism, because it keeps people trapped in an environment were they do not need to think. Arguments in this area are very cut and dried and delivered with a mind-numbing authoritarianism. I've had students who would never consider pondering another position on Creation, because they literally think they will get in trouble, so to speak, if they do. They are locked into that point of view by fear. Repeated and recycled arguments such as these indicate a lack of thought and the just-give-me-the-answers mentality. It's so much easier to cling to something safe than to spend the mental effort to learn something new or to see something in a different light.
Evidence-based apologetics was all the rage when I was growing up in the 70's, but it is not very convincing to today's post-modern generation. They have no interest in proving anything, because, as they see it, there's no truth to prove anyway. Trying to use the patterns of science in apologetics was fine for moderns, but in the end, it only proved to be trendy. The defense of the faith needs to be rooted in the classic lines of reasoning that the church has long embraced; in the creeds, the catechisms, the writings of the church fathers and in the words of Scripture itself.
Third, I'm not so sure that the problem is not the lack of new and novel arguments, because I think I've discovered many interesting ideas (floating about in the various forms of cyberspace) since I started writing about apologetics around five years ago. I think the greater problem is that the average church-goer has little exposure to new and novel arguments. Since my husband and I started teaching about apologetics and worldview about three years ago, we have had many people tell us that we talk about things they have never heard of before. But there again, people can't hear these things if they don't attend a class, and a lot of young Christians are not seeing their need for Christian education.
One of the responses to the original post on Theology Mom mentioned "literary apologetics,"and said that it might offer an exciting new option in the field of apologetics. I had not heard that term before, so imagine my surprise when I realized that Michael and I have been engaged in that type of apologetics in our class! (but that's a story for the next post...)
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Defining "grace"
One of the most basic tenets of Christianity is that Christians are sinners who have been saved by God's grace. And it follows, that if Christians are saved by grace, they should not be controlled by any kind of law or legalism. The word "grace" is often used by Christians, but not everyone is able to fully articulate what it means. It is not so much that it is misunderstood, but that it is non-understood; rather like understanding the processes behind turning on a water faucet. We don't really know why or how the water comes out -- our grasp of the situation is quite weak. We are simply content that the water flows. We look at grace in much the same way. We feel happy that it happens and do not think deeply about it. Buy we need to grasp the substance of grace, and to begin to do so, we need to define it.
A good place to begin when defining Biblical terms is to look at the word in the original language. The Greek word translated "grace" is charis, meaning: a gift, a benefit or favor. In the New Testament, this word took on special significance as the divine favor bestowed upon us by God when he gives us salvation. Furthermore, this favor is viewed a being undeserved. It has been freely given to us by God with no strings attached, no prerequisites for us to fulfill, and without deeds to be done to win this favor. Mercy is very similar to grace in that it rescues the troubled soul from its desperate situation. But mercy may be shown indifferently. Grace always comes through love, and in particular, God's grace is always joined with his mercy as it flows from his love. "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God! And that is what we are!" (1John 3:1)
Although we do not and cannot do anything to merit this favor from God, God works actively to give us grace. It comes into our souls by his power. We do not work to receive grace, but God works to give it to us. Once we receive it, its power is not drained or contained. It becomes the energizing force behind our daily experience of living the Christian life. The Apostle Paul centered his prayer for the believers around this truth: "I pray that out of his glorious riches" (one of which is grace) "he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith." (Eph. 3:16, 17) Because Grace only comes from God, we are entirely dependent on him for our salvation. But this does not begin and end with the act of conversion. It is an ongoing action. "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith -- and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God." (Eph. 2:8) We are always receiving the gift of salvation, in much the same way as we are always receiving light and heat from the sun, and we cannot live without it.
The saving grace that Christ gives us causes us to respond in thankfulness. When the church celebrates the grace that was given to us by the broken body and shed blood of Jesus, it is called the Eucharist or Thanksgiving. Receiving it and thereby recalling the story of redemption is a response or "work" of praise. In addition, when God gives us salvation, he gives us other gifts (charisms,) which we are called upon to use in order to be administrators of God's grace to others. We do not, nor can we work to receive grace, but we take grace and its accompanying power to do God's work through the Holy Spirit who works in and through us.
The point we must always remember about grace is that it does not stop. If we think that we have been saved by grace at such-and-such a point in time, we have stopped. If we merely feel good because of God's grace, we have stopped. If we think that grace is not associated with what we do, we have stopped. Sometimes in our efforts to emphasize that salvation is all of grace (period,) we have forgotten that anything composed of grace is also a living, active dynamo of power, and it must act accordingly.
Today we are quite intent upon criticizing the idea of legalism -- the idea that that what one does or does not do is vital to how the Christian life is lived out. But in this mode of thinking it is very easy to gravitate to the opposite end of things -- doing nothing, just feeling the feelings. God does not intend for us to work our way to salvation, or to work to maintain or keep our salvation. The price paid for his gift of grace was too great for that. But, once we are saved, we are expected to live a life of active thankfulness, as described in 1Pet. 2:9: "[you] declare the praises of him who called you our of darkness into his wonderful light." And when we begin to do these things, to practice the power of grace, to understand its definition, it will bring about a revolution in Christian living.
some thoughts from:
Easton, Burton Scott, "Grace." from the International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, ed. by James Orr, Wm. B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1939 (online edition)
A good place to begin when defining Biblical terms is to look at the word in the original language. The Greek word translated "grace" is charis, meaning: a gift, a benefit or favor. In the New Testament, this word took on special significance as the divine favor bestowed upon us by God when he gives us salvation. Furthermore, this favor is viewed a being undeserved. It has been freely given to us by God with no strings attached, no prerequisites for us to fulfill, and without deeds to be done to win this favor. Mercy is very similar to grace in that it rescues the troubled soul from its desperate situation. But mercy may be shown indifferently. Grace always comes through love, and in particular, God's grace is always joined with his mercy as it flows from his love. "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God! And that is what we are!" (1John 3:1)
Although we do not and cannot do anything to merit this favor from God, God works actively to give us grace. It comes into our souls by his power. We do not work to receive grace, but God works to give it to us. Once we receive it, its power is not drained or contained. It becomes the energizing force behind our daily experience of living the Christian life. The Apostle Paul centered his prayer for the believers around this truth: "I pray that out of his glorious riches" (one of which is grace) "he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith." (Eph. 3:16, 17) Because Grace only comes from God, we are entirely dependent on him for our salvation. But this does not begin and end with the act of conversion. It is an ongoing action. "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith -- and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God." (Eph. 2:8) We are always receiving the gift of salvation, in much the same way as we are always receiving light and heat from the sun, and we cannot live without it.
The saving grace that Christ gives us causes us to respond in thankfulness. When the church celebrates the grace that was given to us by the broken body and shed blood of Jesus, it is called the Eucharist or Thanksgiving. Receiving it and thereby recalling the story of redemption is a response or "work" of praise. In addition, when God gives us salvation, he gives us other gifts (charisms,) which we are called upon to use in order to be administrators of God's grace to others. We do not, nor can we work to receive grace, but we take grace and its accompanying power to do God's work through the Holy Spirit who works in and through us.
The point we must always remember about grace is that it does not stop. If we think that we have been saved by grace at such-and-such a point in time, we have stopped. If we merely feel good because of God's grace, we have stopped. If we think that grace is not associated with what we do, we have stopped. Sometimes in our efforts to emphasize that salvation is all of grace (period,) we have forgotten that anything composed of grace is also a living, active dynamo of power, and it must act accordingly.
Today we are quite intent upon criticizing the idea of legalism -- the idea that that what one does or does not do is vital to how the Christian life is lived out. But in this mode of thinking it is very easy to gravitate to the opposite end of things -- doing nothing, just feeling the feelings. God does not intend for us to work our way to salvation, or to work to maintain or keep our salvation. The price paid for his gift of grace was too great for that. But, once we are saved, we are expected to live a life of active thankfulness, as described in 1Pet. 2:9: "[you] declare the praises of him who called you our of darkness into his wonderful light." And when we begin to do these things, to practice the power of grace, to understand its definition, it will bring about a revolution in Christian living.
some thoughts from:
Easton, Burton Scott, "Grace." from the International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, ed. by James Orr, Wm. B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1939 (online edition)
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