The Forgiveness of God: An Existential Problem

Many times one will hear something like, "Why can't God just forgive humanity?" Sometimes it is posed with deep sincerity. Sometimes it is posed against penal substitutionary forms of the cross. John Stott takes a traditional (Anselmian) approach that God's majesty demands satisfaction. Because is not desiring that humanity be destroyed, he substitutes for them. I think this is a fine and biblical approach. However, I think there is another, more existential, approach.

Existentialism affirms that there is a deep angst in humanity. There is a sense in which humans are not whole; they will die. It also affirms that there is a sense in which personal experience shapes our interpretation Reality. As a result, one can never completely enter the shoes of another. Putting this in terms of forgiveness, if sin is against not only God, but also against humans, then for God to forgive would be for him to enter the shoes of another. Sometimes you might here someone say, "How can you forgive them? You don't know what they put me through!" Very true. In the suffering of Christ, however, God says, "I do know." Moreover, not only does God know from the perspective of the victim, but also of the perpetrator. God knows the result of a guilty verdict.

Worse than "Old Liberalism"

I am listening to a round table on the emerging church. A fellow comes up who disbelieves the resurrection. (I will keep him nameless since I have not heard him actually say this.) When questioned on the empty tomb, he said, "The tomb wasn't empty or there was no tomb." However, a few minutes later he said that this in no way undermines the confession of the early church that Jesus lives and Jesus is Lord. He believes in that confession and confesses it along with the early church. The round table had two people remembering these statements. The person who shared the second statement, that the confession is not undermined by the full or non-existent (or, irrelevant) tomb, said, "This isn't old liberalism."

Barf.

But, it's right. It's worse than old liberalism. At least old liberalism admitted that the early church thought Jesus really rose from the dead.

But here's a question: If Jesus didn't rise from the dead...and defeat death; show himself stronger than the Romans; overcome the temple and the law...then what, exactly, is he Lord over? After the confession, "Jesus is Lord!", the early church had an explosion of preaching. I think this gentleman's interpretation of the confession, however, we only have an explosion of cricket chirping after the announcement of Jesus' reign, signifying those (lack of) things over which he rules: "Jesus is Lord........." (of nothing).

What I think captures the Emerging Church

What I think captures much of the feeling and flavour of the emerging church movement is that it seeks to identify deeply with the Other, and is thereby influenced by existential thought (Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Heidegger, etc.), and some postmodern thinkers (i.e., Jacques Derrida, John Caputo). Part of existential philosophy emphasizes the individuality of each person and the impossibility of entering into another's shoes entirely. Existentialist philosophy emphasizes that reality must be studied not from "essences," but from existence. This is meant not to succumb to the object/subject divide and tries not to deteriorate into total relativism, but to emphasizes the necessity that Reality is interpreted and studied from the existence of the individual. I think the emerging church tries to take the Incarnation so seriously that it believes entering the shoes of another person has been done, in a sense, and so they must follow the one who has done it, to the best of their ability. This is why you'll see an emphasis on social justice, but also a concern to listen deeply to a homosexual struggling with the Bible. (You'll notice one of the Emergent Church's characteristics emphasizes friendship as a prerequisite to orthodoxy.) Therefore, the questions they are asking of the Bible are deeply morally individual, but also communally moral: how does the Bible speak against the personal existence of this person and how does it form the morality of the community, rooted in a tradition and made up of these individuals?

The Gate Man

Yesterday a little girl in my church wrote and illustrated the story of Jesus' birth. She wrote how Jesus grew into a "gate man." I think she meant "great man," but her theology was none the worse for the spelling mistake. Indeed, Jesus is the gate man. I thought how perfect an illustration of what happens in preaching: In spite of the preacher's frailty and proneness to error, the Spirit is able to work, not just in spite of these conditions, but actually with them to make truth be even more meaningful.

High Christology in Mark

Sometimes you see on National Geographic or Discovery a biography of Jesus. Inevitably, they discuss the titles Jesus uses for himself. His most favourite is "Son of Man." This title comes from Daniel 7, which is a description of the Jewish people, or righteous, reigning as God's vice-regents over his kingdom. The kingdom is given to these people and they are to rule.

Jesus, however, takes the title on himself. And his first uses of it are in connection with healing a paralytic and forgiving his sins (Mark 2:1-12), and healing on the Sabbath (Mark 2:23-3:6). Jesus claims ability to forgive sins and to do as he wills on the Sabbath, as the Son of Man. Just following his claim to Lordship of the Sabbath, he appoints twelve as apostles (Mark 3:13-19). Twelve, for a Messianic figure, is obviously a symbolic number: Jesus has called the same amount of apostles as there are tribes of Israel. So, the Son of Man, previously a figure representing all Israel (Dan. 7:18, 27), is now, symbolically, calling Israel to him. And what does he do? He gives them authority to preach and to drive out demons, which is then explained as the end of Satan's rule (Mark 3:20-30). Jesus has given authority to a symbolic Israel to rule over the Accuser. The amazing thing is that the authority of the Son of Man in Daniel is one he receives (Dan. 7:14, 18, 27). The Kingdom if given to the Son of Man. Now, instead, it is the Son of Man giving this authority to symbolic Israel.

This means that Jesus accomplishes two things: First, Jesus as "Son of Man" is the Ruler for God. But Jesus is not just God's ruler, but God's doer--he does things that God does in Daniel: he gives authority to those he calls to himself.

Can we say God is love?

I'm reading Barth's "Dogmatics in Outline." Barth says that he cannot say that "God is love," even though this is biblical. He says he cannot say God is love, because he does not know what love is and we must learn what love is from God.

I think there is a dogmatic humility in this thought: It is humble, because it does not presume to know what love is and the self is placed in a position of learning afresh from God. But it is a dogmatic place, as well, because it assumes that God is and will not waver from here or speak of love outside of God's tutelage in Jesus Christ.

Score one for capitalism

Capitalism sometimes gets a bad rap. Sometimes it looks like it deserves it. I would argue, however, that it's not capitalism that gets a bad rap, but greedy people who twist, use, and abuse people. So, here's one for capitalism.

First, here's an article by Mark Steyn that says some things I've been feeling, but couldn't express about this election. It takes issue with some of the platitudes and jargon that have become common in this political race.

Second, here's (almost) capitalism at its finest: http://www.kiva.org. This is a website for an organization that uses money (read: capital) loaned from the wealthy to upstart entrepreneurs in developing countries to get their businesses off the ground. The businesses have repayment terms. (This is almost capitalism because the money is repaid without interest or bigger return. However, it's so close, it's scary!) I love it! (And evidently, so do lots of other people: They have had to limit the amount of money because so many people are lending.)

Thanks to my cousin Jo for pointing out this site.

Hauerwasian critique of the Political Right and Left

I saw an ad by Hillary Clinton before Christmas. She was wrapping up presents and labeling them with her policies: Universal Health Care; mandatory four year old public education; environment, etc. Some political commentators were making the point that it came across as Hillary being the giver of all gifts to the underlings or populace.

One point that Hauerwas makes is that the story of the state from the 30 years war is that the state saved the people from death at the hands of religion that was tearing itself apart. The story of the state is one of salvation. This story continues today and is evidenced in the Grand Master doling gifts to the lowly serfs.

However, the critique also applies to the right: The state keeps safe the weaklings from the hordes at the nation's walls. The state is the protector and defender. Either way, the state is the saviour and absolutely necessary. And what else would we expect from last election's pop music slogan, "Vote or Die"?!

Principles and History

Listening to a lecture on Oliver O'Donovan, I was reminded of one of O'Donovan's beliefs about ethics. He grounds ethics in creation, specifically in the creation the resurrection affirms and transforms. This takes history very seriously, as history presupposes creation, otherwise it is not history. So, a command from Jesus in history has to be considered against the backdrop of creation and how that command fits into creation so that we can understand the command. Once we understand the theology behind the command, we can decipher our own historical contexts to act faithfully to Jesus' creation.

At first this line of thinking almost sounds like principles: We excavate the principle from the text and apply it. However, principles are often conceived as timeless, which history isn't. It's precisely because history moves that principles don't (always? often?) work. Because there is stability in creation, we should expect some elements of ethics grounded in creation to hold fast for centuries. However, because there is sin, we should also expect some commands to change in a redeemed history. There should be change as there is growth. In reading Scripture ethically, we are not excavating and attempting to go behind the text, but to read the universe the text describes in Christ. I think I'm more comfortable with that than timeless-principles.

(Of course, this means that no question of morality is automatically and necessarily always closed. It does mean, however, that we, as Christians, ought always return to Scripture for our guidance, rather than dismiss it. It also means that if the Bible keeps uniform prescription on certain actions throughout its narrative, that gives a decent clue to the stability of a command.)

Neither idolizing nor ignoring history

I am beginning to see two mistakes in by two Republicans seeking their party's nomination. First, Rudy Guiliani is putting too much stock in history. I don't think he is "using" 9/11 to bolster his candidacy; I think he believes the world changed that day. As a Christian, I cannot say the world changed on 9/11. The world changed on Easter morning and will not change again until the Parousia.

However, as part of history, 9/11 is part of the created universe and must be interpreted and a response developed. This brings me to the second mistake. This one by Mike Huckabee. Huckabee believes that America should hold the strongest army in the world so that no one will want to engage it. The problem is that 9/11 shows a political enemy who doesn't care about a military's strength. If you face an enemy doesn't care whether s/he lives or dies, then having the power to kill every one of them is pointless. There has to be a stronger and wiser way to defeat your enemy.