Let he who is without sin...

It's been a year of high profile scandals involving prominent athletes - Barry Bonds, Michael Vick, the Mitchell Report on steroids in baseball. What is obvious is the unbridled condemnation cast at those who are guilty in the public's eye. When a standard we actually hold - our sense of fair play in sports or, in Vick's case, cruelty to animals - is violated, it is judgment without mercy for the wrongdoer. It is not simply that this person has done wrong and should have to suffer the consequences, but there is derision and scorn heaped upon him. I even heard one sportstalk radio host, clearly well out of his element, say that he didn't want anyone praying for Michael Vick.

Of course, such reactions are not only the case publicly, but privately as well, given the words we profusely speak when we feel someone has wronged us.

What's particularly fascinating, especially with respect to the baseball steroids investigation, is the realization that all it takes is one misstep, one act of apparent deception or impropriety, to tarnish an otherwise stellar career both on and off the field. No matter what else you may or may not have done, if you cheat even once, you are, in fact, a cheater. You have been exposed for what you really are. Here is a column re Andy Pettitte, who had an excellent reputation both as an athlete and as a person. According to the Mitchell report, Pettitte used Human Growth Hormone for one brief period when he was injured, which he admitted after the report's issuance. Pettitte's defense is basically: "Come on folks, this is only two days out of an entire career, an entire lifetime of hard work and good behavior." Yet, in so far as the column's writer is concerned, as the conclusion reads, even recognizing all that Pettitte has done is still "no match for his cheating heart."

In a sense, basically, the writer - Klapisch - is right. However, at this point, I can't help but think about how offensive we find the notion that "one sin" would place us under condemnation and judgment before God. Yet, as already stated, it should be apparent to us when a person actually does or says something we truly consider to be a wrong, condemnation and judgment are very quick to follow. We don't have any problem whatsoever "playing God" ourselves in such a case. There are numerous assumptions attendant to our "playing God" in this way. First, we establish ourselves as the standard - our sense of right and wrong is determinative. We have demands about the way people should think and behave and they must be met; otherwise the consequences will be dire. Secondly, as Klapisch does with Pettitte, we presume omniscience concerning the other person's motives. We further presume a right to judge the person and a knowledge of what exactly that judgment should be.

We no longer identify ourselves with this person, but place him in the category of "sinner" or "evil," even if we don't use such words. We stand over the person as his judge, based on a presumption of moral superiority. No longer do we have a common humanity, but he is somehow "sub-human," with our sense of virtue maybe even placing us in a sort of elite human category. In so doing, we entirely disregard the fact that we too have done wrong, just not under the glare of the media spotlight; but still certainly before the gaze of the one who sees and knows all things - the one who actually is omniscient. We are not mindful of the reality that we are not the source of the true and the good with a right to determine right and wrong, good and evil. And to place ourselves in such a position also places us out of touch with reality. Though I do think it worth noting at this point that all of us are even readily guilty of violating the standards to which we hold others. Ultimately, the only one with a right to judge is the one who is "without sin."

I want to be clear here that with respect to judgment I'm not merely talking about judging or determining that a certain action is wrong or undesirable; nor am I even talking about meting out appropriate sanctions on the temporal or societal level. What I am talking about is what I've described above - the condemnation and rejection of the person as a human being expressed in words and actions that implicitly, if not explicitly, say: "show him no mercy." I want to emphasize that the idea is not to condone or excuse wrongdoing; and it is certainly not to advance a sentimental notion of our basically being "good people." This issue relates to direct engagement with the truth about ourselves both individually and collectively.

There was one who was in fact "without sin." Yet, instead of judging us and condemning us, he fully identified himself with us to the point where he accepted for himself all of the consequences of our sin , taking them upon himself, while also "dressing" our sinfulness with the perfection of his character. Instead of rejecting us, he fully shares in our humanity and is not even ashamed to call us his brothers, Heb 2:11-14, uniting us to himself personally by his Spirit. "Those liars, those cheaters, those animal abusers, they're with me and I'm with them."

Here's what's remarkable. Though God is the source of the true and the good, the one with the capacity and the right to judge, he lavishes his mercy and grace upon those who know they need it and turn to receive it. Meanwhile all other standards, though they are far inferior, are also somehow more demanding due to their arbitrary and capricious character. Furthermore, no matter how lax or "tolerant" such a standard may seem to be in a superficial way, when violated it is "judgment without mercy." Think of the demands concerning attire and fashion in middle school or high school - arbitrary, capricious and "judgment without mercy." This is how we personally and societally operate.

Yet, when Jesus speaks to us in even the harshest and most stern language, warning us about our eternal status, it is entirely different. As the one who is truth, the words Jesus speaks are true, not arbitrary, and they are not meant to destroy, but to put us in touch with reality. His even speaking to us is an act of love and great concern. The reason we can accept what Jesus tells us and not hide or deny, but agree with him in confessing the truth about ourselves, is because Jesus is himself the “solution” to our problem. The one who speaks to us about our true status and most essential need is the one who rescues us even from ourselves in his death and resurrection.

"Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment." James 2:12-13

America's God

The Declaration of Independence defines what it means to be an American. It is a creedal statement that sets forth our civil religion: “We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal; and that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights, among these the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” No matter what religion or irreligion a person officially professes, if he is an American, native or naturalized, this is what he believes. It is probably why, among a host of reasons, we seem to do a better job of integrating immigrants (among which I am one – from Egypt) than Europe.

For example, while I may profess belief in historic Christianity and attend a “bible believing” church, my personal belief is likely to be that which is articulated in the Declaration. The dilemma is that the god of the Declaration does not actually bear a reasonable relationship to Israel’s God, the Lord of heaven and earth, revealed in the God-man Jesus Christ. He does not descend, cajole, pursue, forgive sins, threaten, redeem, transform, rescue, suffer, dwell with, cry out, speak tenderly, execute justice, die on a cross and rise from the dead. He is not holy, loving, angry, gracious, just, merciful, righteous, kind, filled with fury, patient and faithful. The god of the Declaration is a generally beneficent deity who gives us rights – life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness – as we define them. Most affirm the deity, some even saying that he is the God of the Bible, while others do not. Regardless, most important are our rights.

What we really need.

One of the most basic issues confronting those who identify themselves as Christians is the fact we do not call into question our desires but expect them to be met. We may only question those impulses that are in the basic category of overtly sinful actions - adultery, theft - though once we come to expect all our desires to be met, that can even become hard to do. As a matter of fact, a person who expects that God will (actually should) meet his desires - they're "God-given" after all - can be the most insufferable. "I have 'faith' and my life turns out like this?" We are so wired to thinking this way, that we don't realize the extent to which it governs our lives. Thus, when it comes to issues of marriage, work, pleasure, finances, reputation, comfort, etc., there does not even exist an understanding that would begin to move people in the direction of thinking through these matters as those whose identity is rooted in Christ.

The point in all this is not to beat people up or induce self-absorbing guilt, but to understand ourselves - our motivations, our interests, our longings, our demands - so that we move towards that which is good and true and lasting, to orient us to the freedom of being our true selves. What we all really in need of is a paradigm shift away from a self-understanding as rights asserting individuals who are entitled to having our demands and whims satisfied to an awakening that we are citizens of Christ's kingdom, sent as ambassadors, not self-interested takers, but givers of true riches as those who belong to the one who, in the exercise of ultimate authority, is the abundant and generous giver of every good gift, whose stunning love and goodness withholds nothing from us, not even his own Son. What we want is to have our thinking and actions, our very being, to be shaped by the reality that "he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again." 2 Cor 5:15.

In this regard, Dave Powlison is insightful and caring in this excellent article. Powlison describes what he terms the "therapeutic gospel":

• I want to feel loved for who I am, to be pitied for what I’ve gone through, to feel intimately understood, to be accepted unconditionally;
• I want to experience a sense of personal significance and meaningfulness, to be successful in my career, to know my life matters, to have an impact;
  
• I want to gain self-esteem, to affirm that I am okay, to be able to assert my opinions and desires;
  
• I want to be entertained, to feel pleasure in the endless stream of performances that delight my eyes and tickle my ears;
  
• I want a sense of adventure, excitement, action, and passion so that I experience life as thrilling and moving.

He adds:

The therapeutic outlook is not a bad thing in its proper place. By definition, a medical-therapeutic gaze holds in view problems of physical suffering and breakdown. In literal medical intervention, a therapy treats an illness, trauma, or deficiency. You don’t call someone to repentance for their colon cancer, broken leg, or beriberi. You seek to heal. So far, so good.

But in today’s therapeutic gospel the medical way of looking at the world is metaphorically extended to these psychological desires. These are defined just like a medical problem. You feel bad; the therapy makes you feel better. The definition of the disease bypasses the sinful human heart. You are not the agent of your deepest problems, but merely a sufferer and victim of unmet needs. The offer of a cure skips over the sin-bearing Savior. Repentance from unbelief, willfulness, and wickedness is not the issue. Sinners are not called to a U-turn and to a new life that is life indeed. Such a gospel massages self-love. There is nothing in its inner logic to make you love God and love any other person besides yourself. This therapeutic gospel may often mention the word "Jesus," but he has morphed into the meeter-of-your-needs, not the Savior from your sins. It corrects Jesus’ work. The therapeutic gospel unhinges the gospel.

In contrast, Powlison describes the "real gospel":

Good news of the Word made flesh, the sin-bearing Savior, the resurrected Lord of lords: "I am the living One, and I was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore" (Rev. 1:18). This Christ turns the world upside down. The Holy Spirit rewires our sense of felt need as one prime effect of his inworking presence and power. Because the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, we keenly feel a different set of needs when God comes into view and when we understand that we stand or fall in his gaze. My instinctual cravings are replaced (sometimes quickly, always gradually) by the growing awareness of true, life-and-death needs:

• I need mercy above all else: "Lord, have mercy upon me"; "For Your name’s sake, pardon my iniquity for it is very great";
  
• I want to learn wisdom, and unlearn willful self-preoccupation: "Nothing you desire compares with her";
  
• I need to learn to love both God and neighbor: "The goal of our instruction is love that comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith";
  
• I long for God’s name to be honored, for his kingdom to come, for his will to be done on earth;
  
• I want Christ’s glory, lovingkindness, and goodness to be seen on earth, to fill the earth as obviously as water fills the ocean;
  
• I need God to change me from who I am by instinct, choice, and practice;
  
• I want him to deliver me from my obsessive self-righteousness, to slay my lust for self-vindication, so that I feel my need for the mercies of Christ, so that I learn to treat others gently;
  
• I need God’s mighty and intimate help in order to will and to do those things that last unto eternal life, rather than squandering my life on vanities;
  
• I want to learn how to endure hardship and suffering in hope, having my faith simplified, deepened, and purified;
  
• I need to learn to worship, to delight, to trust, to give thanks, to cry out, to take refuge, to hope;
  
• I want the resurrection to eternal life: "We groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body";
  
• I need God himself: "Show me Your glory"; "Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus."

Make it so, Father of mercies. Make it so, Redeemer of all that is dark and broken.

Powlison of course rightly recognizes the legitimate desire for love, significance, esteem, pleasure and adventure, but within a framework that understands both their source and fulfillment: "Properly understood, carefully interpreted, the felt needs make good gifts. But they make poor gods." I hope we can help each other to see that even such good things, if they are demands, even subtly, can become controlling and enslaving, causing us to resent anything or anyone that gets in their way. The result is that we perceive even those people to whom we are connected - spouse, kids, parents, friends, neighbors, co-workers - as a "restraint" on our "freedom" or "fulfillment." Here's Powlison's take on the elements of the "therapeutic gospel":

1. "Need for love"? It is surely a good thing to know that you are both known and loved. God who searches the thoughts and intentions of our hearts also sets his steadfast love upon us. However all this is radically different from the instinctual craving to be accepted for who I am. Christ’s love comes pointedly and personally despite who I am. You are accepted for who Christ is, because of what he did, does, and will do. God truly accepts you, and if God is for you, who can be against you? But in doing this, he does not affirm and endorse what you are like. Rather, he sets about changing you into a fundamentally different kind of person. In the real gospel you feel deeply known and loved, but your relentless "need for love" has been overthrown.

2. "Need for significance"? It is surely a good thing for the works of your hands to be established forever: gold, silver, and precious stones, not wood, hay, and straw. It is good when what you do with your life truly counts, and when your works follow you into eternity. Vanity, futility, and ultimate insignificance register the curse upon our work life – even midcourse, not just when we retire, or when we die, or on the Day of Judgment. But the real gospel inverts the order of things presupposed by the therapeutic gospel. The craving for impact and significance – one of the typical "youthful lusts" that boil up within us – is merely idolatrous when it acts as Director of Operations in the human heart. God does not meet your need for significance; he meets your need for mercy and deliverance from your obsession with personal significance. When you turn from your enslavement and turn to God, then your works do start to count for good. The gospel of Jesus and the fruit of faith are not tailored to "meet your needs." He frees from the tyranny of felt needs, remakes you to fear God and keep his commandments (Eccl. 12:13). In the divine irony of grace, that alone makes what you do with your life of lasting value.

3. "Need for self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-assertion"? To gain a confident sense of your identity is a great good. Ephesians is strewn with several dozen "identity statements," because by this the Spirit motivates a life of courageous faith and love. You are God’s – among the saints, chosen ones, adopted sons, beloved children, citizens, slaves, soldiers; part of the workmanship, wife and dwelling place – every one of these in Christ. No aspect of your identity is self-referential, feeding your "self-esteem." Your opinion of yourself is far less important than God’s opinion of you, and accurate self-assessment is derivative of God’s assessment. True identity is God-referential. True awareness of yourself connects to high esteem for Christ. Great confidence in Christ correlates to a vote of fundamental no confidence in and about yourself. God nowhere replaces diffidence and people-pleasing by self-assertiveness. In fact, to assert your opinions and desires, as is, marks you as a fool. Only as you are freed from the tyranny of your opinions and desires are you free to assess them accurately, and then to express them appropriately.

4. "Need for pleasure"? In fact, the true gospel promises endlessly joyous experience, drinking from the river of delights (Ps. 36). This describes God’s presence. But as we have seen in each case, this is keyed to the reversal of our instinctive cravings, not to their direct satisfaction. The way of joy is the way of suffering, endurance, small obediences, willingness to identify with human misery, willingness to overthrow your most persuasive desires and instincts. I don’t need to be entertained. But I absolutely NEED to learn to worship with all my heart.

5. "Need for excitement and adventure"? To participate in Christ’s kingdom is to play a part within the Greatest Action-Adventure Story Ever Told. But the paradox of redemption again turns the whole world upside down. The real adventure takes the path of weakness, struggle, endurance, patience, small kindnesses done well. The road to excellence in wisdom is unglamorous. Other people might take better vacations and have a more thrilling marriage than yours. The path of Jesus calls forth more grit than thrill. He needed endurance far more than he needed excitement. His kingdom might not cater to our cravings for derring-do and thrill-seeking, but "solid joys and lasting treasures none but Zion’s children know."

We say "yes" and "amen" to all good gifts. But get first things first. The contemporary therapeutic gospel in its many forms takes our ‘gimmes’ at face value. It grabs for the goodies. It erases worship of the Giver, whose greatest gift is mercy towards us for what we want by instinct, choice, enculturation, and habit. He calls us to radical repentance. Bob Dylan described the therapeutic’s alternative in a remarkable phrase: "You think He’s just an errand boy to satisfy your wandering desires" (from When You Gonna Wake Up?). Second things are exalted as servants of Number One.

Get first things first. Get the gospel of incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection, and glory. Live the gospel of repentance, faith, and transformation into the image of the Son. Proclaim the gospel of the coming Day when eternal life and eternal death are revealed, the coming Day of Christ.

Read this liberating, counter-cultural article.

Blogs You Should Be Reading

As hard as it may be to believe, during my lengthy hiatus, there were many others doing a lot of thoughtful and interesting writing worth reading and engaging. Two of the standouts are Dave Opderbeck and Joel Garver.

Here is Joel Garver on the human condition - the unavoidable depth of our plight and glorious extent of our hope. Also, for us American Protestants who don't acknowledge any of the eventful days on the Christian calendar other than Christmas and Easter (preferring days established by Hallmark and our federal government), Joel reflects on Pentecost through a question we often pose to children, "what do you want to be when you grow up?", and on the relationship of Jesus' transfiguration to the horrors of war.

Idolatry?!?

If the notion of sin or sinner is liable to conjure up certain images for some, then the idea of "idolatry" is liable to be one that is entirely inapplicable and out of place. In this article, Redeemer New York's Tim Keller explains the inextricable connection between sin and idolatry and the eye-opening relevance such a connection has for a penetrating perspective on human nature, especially in our present context. Some excerpts:

Whatever we worship we will serve, for worship and service are always inextricably bound together. We are “covenantal” beings. We enter into covenant service with whatever most captures our imagination and heart. It ensnares us. So every human personality, community, thought-form, and culture will be based on some ultimate concern or some ultimate allegiance—either to God or to some God-substitute. Individually, we will ultimately look either to God or to success, romance, family, status, popularity, beauty or something else to make us feel personally significant and secure, and to guide our choices. Culturally we will ultimately look to either God or to the free market, the state, the elites, the will of the people, science and technology, military might, human reason, racial pride, or something else to make us corporately significant and secure, and to guide our choices.

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There is another reason we need a different definition of sin for postmodern people. They are relativists, and the moment you say, “Sin is breaking God’s moral standards,” they will retort, “Well, who is to say whose moral standards are right? Everyone has different ones! What makes Christians think that theirs are the only right set of moral standards?” The usual way to respond to this is to become sidetracked from your presentation of sin and grace into an apologetic discussion about relativism. Of course, postmodern people must be strongly challenged about their mushy view of truth, but I think there is a way to move forward and actually make a credible and convicting gospel presentation before you get into the apologetic issues. I do it this way, I take a page from Kierkegaard’s The Sickness Unto Death and I define sin as building your identity—your self-worth and happiness—on anything other than God. Instead of telling them they are sinning because they are sleeping with their girlfriends or boyfriends, I tell them that they are sinning because they are looking to their careers and romances to save them, to give them everything that they should be looking for in God. This idolatry leads to drivenness, addictions, severe anxiety, obsessiveness, envy of others, and resentment.

Read the whole thing.

Deep Thoughts

My return to blogging was inspired by a profound question recently posed by my 3 year old son David while I was sorting clothes to do laundry:

"Why doesn't your underwear have any pictures on it?"

The resulting philosophical and theological reflection awakened me from my long slumber.

Well, that explains everything.

As many of you know, James Cameron discovered the remains of Jesus' body over the weekend. Supporting Cameron's claim are a You Tube video showing Jesus not rising from the dead, a third-grade report card noting that Cameron's tendency to tell outlandish stories is becoming "less habitual," and voices inside Cameron's head.

This unexpected development restores Cameron to his rightful place as "King of the World." We're still awaiting word on whether Cameron can forgive sins, raise the dead, proclaim liberty to the captives, announce good news to the poor, restore sight to the blind, love his enemies, judge the living and the dead and renew creation.

On the off chance Cameron is full of baloney, there remains hope for him and all the rest of us.

Update: Obviously the above is not intended to preempt discussion concerning the resurrection or anything else for that matter. It's just that I think this sensationalistic stunt is worth a little fun. Here the prolific NT Wright makes a compelling case for the resurrection's historical credibility. An excerpt:

I would not pretend to have found an argument that would force a sceptic to admit that Jesus ‘must have’ been raised from the dead. It is always open to anyone to say, at least, ‘I can’t think of a better explanation, but I know there must be one, because I intend to hold to my presupposition that dead people don’t rise.’ Cautious agnosticism is always an option. What historical investigation can do, and in this case I believe must do, is to clear away the overgrown thickets of misunderstanding, misreading, sheer bad history, and sometimes willful obfuscation, in order that the main texts can be allowed to say what they are saying and the main questions may stand out in their stark simplicity.

Historical investigation, I propose, brings us to the point where we must say that the tomb previously housing a thoroughly dead Jesus was empty, and that his followers saw and met someone they were convinced was this same Jesus, bodily alive though in a new, transformed fashion. The empty tomb on the one hand and the convincing appearances of Jesus on the other are the two conclusions the historian must draw. I do not think that history can force us to draw any particular further deductions beyond these two phenomena; the conclusion the disciples drew is there for the taking, but it is open to us, as it was to them, to remain cautious. Thomas waited a week before believing what he had been told. On Matthew’s mountain, some had their doubts.

However, the elegance and simplicity of explaining the two outstanding phenomena, the empty tomb and the visions, by means of one another, ought to be obvious. Were it not for the astounding, and world-view-challenging, claim that is thereby made, I think everyone would long since have concluded that this was the correct historical result. If some other account explained the rise of Christianity as naturally, completely and satisfyingly as does the early Christians’ belief, while leaving normal worldviews intact, it would be accepted without demur.

That, I believe, is the result of the investigation I have conducted. There are many other things to say about Jesus’ resurrection. But, as far as I am concerned, the historian may and must say that all other explanations for why Christianity arose, and why it took the shape it did, are far less convincing as historical explanations than the one the early Christians themselves offer: that Jesus really did rise from the dead on Easter morning, leaving an empty tomb behind him. The origins of Christianity, the reason why this new movement came into being and took the unexpected form it did, and particularly the strange mutations it produced within the Jewish hope for resurrection and the Jewish hope for a Messiah, are best explained by saying that something happened, two or three days after Jesus’ death, for which the accounts in the four gospels are the least inadequate expression we have.

HT: The Boar’s Head Tavern

A sense of calling

Not too long ago a friend was questioning why I went to seminary. I was compelled to employ my unusually perceptive social and emotional intelligence in order to discern his subtle criticism: "I don't understand why you ruined your own life and your family's life in this way" he cautiously said. Well, for those wondering, wonder no more, this is why I am a seminarian.

Jesus loves the little children.

I recently purchased this book - The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name and I cannot recommend it highly enough. To date, it has been difficult to find an adequate children's bible that effectively communicates the unfolding biblical narrative to children. What you generally get, as you do in most Sunday School curricula, is a series of stories about admirable people with lessons attached - "so and so obeyed God and good things happened for him and you should obey God so good things will happen to you too." That is not how the Bible, in all its historically embedded intensity and strife, presents itself, nor how it is to be read. This book evocatively captures the unfolding drama of humanity's and, in fact, all creation's, God wrought redemption, all while pointing ahead and anticipating the Redeemer's arrival; and it does so for children. My recommendation is not only for children however. Because this book so well captures the simplicity and wonder of the gospel through the Bible, so that even a child can understand it, it would benefit anyone to read it. Here's what 8-year old Ashley had to say concerning its artwork: "I love the illustrations. They're really good." This is an exceptional work. Well done Sally Lloyd-Jones and Jago.

Honey, you are such a great artist!

For those who have children, this article concerning the fallacies of "self-esteem" should not be suprising. Apparently, speaking the "truth in love" is preferable to false flattery. What a concept. Here's a couple of excerpts:

Dweck had suspected that praise could backfire, but even she was surprised by the magnitude of the effect. “Emphasizing effort gives a child a variable that they can control,” she explains. “They come to see themselves as in control of their success. Emphasizing natural intelligence takes it out of the child’s control, and it provides no good recipe for responding to a failure.”

In follow-up interviews, Dweck discovered that those who think that innate intelligence is the key to success begin to discount the importance of effort. I am smart, the kids’ reasoning goes; I don’t need to put out effort. Expending effort becomes stigmatized—it’s public proof that you can’t cut it on your natural gifts.

Repeating her experiments, Dweck found this effect of praise on performance held true for students of every socioeconomic class. It hit both boys and girls—the very brightest girls especially (they collapsed the most following failure). Even preschoolers weren’t immune to the inverse power of praise.

.................................................................

Since the 1969 publication of The Psychology of Self-Esteem, in which Nathaniel Branden opined that self-esteem was the single most important facet of a person, the belief that one must do whatever he can to achieve positive self-esteem has become a movement with broad societal effects. Anything potentially damaging to kids’ self-esteem was axed. Competitions were frowned upon. Soccer coaches stopped counting goals and handed out trophies to everyone. Teachers threw out their red pencils. Criticism was replaced with ubiquitous, even undeserved, praise.

Dweck and Blackwell’s work is part of a larger academic challenge to one of the self-esteem movement’s key tenets: that praise, self-esteem, and performance rise and fall together. From 1970 to 2000, there were over 15,000 scholarly articles written on self-esteem and its relationship to everything—from sex to career advancement. But results were often contradictory or inconclusive. So in 2003 the Association for Psychological Science asked Dr. Roy Baumeister, then a leading proponent of self-esteem, to review this literature. His team concluded that self-esteem was polluted with flawed science. Only 200 of those 15,000 studies met their rigorous standards.

After reviewing those 200 studies, Baumeister concluded that having high self-esteem didn’t improve grades or career achievement. It didn’t even reduce alcohol usage. And it especially did not lower violence of any sort. (Highly aggressive, violent people happen to think very highly of themselves, debunking the theory that people are aggressive to make up for low self-esteem.) At the time, Baumeister was quoted as saying that his findings were “the biggest disappointment of my career.”

Now he’s on Dweck’s side of the argument, and his work is going in a similar direction: He will soon publish an article showing that for college students on the verge of failing in class, esteem-building praise causes their grades to sink further. Baumeister has come to believe the continued appeal of self-esteem is largely tied to parents’ pride in their children’s achievements: It’s so strong that “when they praise their kids, it’s not that far from praising themselves.”

Read the whole thing, even if you don't have kids.

What's a nice Catholic guy like you doing in a place like this?

As one might imagine, at a seminary such as Westminster, there are all sorts of internal discussions going on in the classroom, hallways, cafe and at various blogs. So far on this blog I have steered clear of such discussions, at least directly, though I've touched on and implicated them within the context of some broader remarks. My reason for doing so is not because I find the discussions uninteresting or irrelevant, even to those outside the Westminster community or the seminary setting. They are not merely matters of esoteric knowledge but bear directly on issues that affect all of us, even if not readily apparent on the surface. However vital, I do not see such debates as consistent with this blog's primary purpose, which is accessibility to a broad readership interested in thinking about the issues raised here, and I hope at least sometimes challenged. Besides, any such discussion assumes knowledge of background information, including names, vocabulary and theological distinctions.

All of this is to say that, in contrast to the above, this post was prodded by a lecture in one of my classes earlier today, though I think it should be of interest to at least some of you. Today in a Christology ("Salvation I" at WTS) lecture, the material focused on Karl Rahner's theology of the incarnation, comparing his underlying thinking to Schleirmacher, and also touched on Vatican II and its trajectory going forward.

In the January 2007 issue of First Things, Catholic theologian Edward Oakes briefly reviewed NT Wright's Simply Christian. As I imagine is the case at any Protestant (and maybe even Catholic) seminary that affirms historic Christianity, at Westminster, NT Wright is, for good reason, widely read and much discussed. In case any one thinks that I am somehow "Anti-Wright" or am taking sides here, to the extent I've read him, I think Wright is in many respects outstanding, having cited to him positively twice on this blog - here and here, including a recommendation of Simply Christian, which I continue to recommend. I look forward to reading much more of Wright.

As you will read in Oakes' review below, he is measured in his critique of Wright, being careful to give him the credit he is due and almost admitting that his difficulty arises out of an impression as much as anything else. He does not (and I certainly do not) claim that Wright's theology is that of Schleirmacher or Rahner. Interestingly, as a Catholic, his critique has to do with an approach to cultural engagement encouraged by Vatican II he finds in Wright.

The reasons I cite to the review are twofold: 1. It is a review of Wright's well-received book outside of the Protestant polemical context in which he is normally discussed; and 2. as much as I think Wright is an excellent and creative ambassador for historic Christianity, I don't want to be uncritical of him. While not necessarily endorsing the review in its entirety, I think Oakes' reflections are serious, sobering and worthy of consideration, more so for how they might challenge us than for what they say about Wright's approach in particular.

Here's the review:

Speaking very generally, Christian apologists can go down one of two roads: Friedrich Schleiermacher’s or Blaise Pascal’s. According to Schleiermacher, man’s inchoate sense of absolute dependence can best be assuaged by following Jesus, who, more than any other human being, conducted his life not just sensing his absolute dependence on God (which Schleiermacher claims we all do) but actually living it out. In other words, man is thirsty for God, and Christianity offers the most limpid and salubrious water for slaking that thirst. But for Pascal, Christianity is not so much pleasing water for a thirsty but otherwise healthy traveler; rather, it is harsh chemotherapy for a desperately ill cancer patient.

Because C.S. Lewis-the most famous and influential of all Christian apologists in the twentieth century-adopted the avuncular style of the fireside chat (indeed, his most famous books began as a radio addresses during World War II), superficial readers often consider him to be vaguely Schleiermacherian. But a careful reading of his works, especially Mere Christianity and The Abolition of Man, puts him squarely in the Pascalian camp. His style might imitate the bedside manner of the kind physician, but his diagnosis is grim.

By his title alone, N. T. Wright, the Anglican bishop of Durham, is clearly trying to provide a twenty-first-century reenactment of Lewis’ apologetics. But in contrast to Lewis, Wright uses an approach that is, in my judgment, too "apologetic"-in the ordinary-language sense of that term, which is to say, too Schleiermacherian ("Please don’t despise me"). Whether other readers will also consider that strategy to be unwise depends on what question they think Christianity is meant to answer.

In any event, one cannot help reading Wright’s noble effort in the context of the implosion of the contemporary Church of England (where he shines as Anglicanism’s best New Testament scholar since two earlier figures in the See of Durham, the nineteenth-century scholars J.B. Lightfoot and B.F. Westcott). Lest this juxtaposition sound too triumphalistic, Catholics, too, I think, need to reassess the Second Vatican Council-which also largely adopted the "we can answer your deepest needs" approach. Judging by its rhetoric alone, Vatican II seemed to adopt this strategy: You "cultured despisers" could really learn something from us Christians, really, if you would just sample our wares!

Despite the validation bestowed by that epochal council on this all-too "apologizing" approach, I think nearly every headline one reads today, from the rise of militant Islam to the popularity of The Da Vinci Code, has shown that approach to be a non-starter. Besides, one might also note, if only in passing, that it is always the most "pessimistic" Christian apologists (Augustine, Pascal, Kierkegaard) who continue to gain a hearing, while the "optimists" (Origen, Schleiermacher, Karl Rahner) go largely unread.

Much as one can respect Wright’s gentle approach in Simply Christian to win hearts and minds over to the Christian religion, his book, one can confidently predict, will never eclipse or replace Mere Christianity. I think people who reject the gospel have not the remotest idea how desperate their plight really is-and what the consequences of their rejection will prove to be.

Who you callin' a delusion?

For those unfamiliar with Richard Dawkins, his best-seller "The God Delusion" offers a self-explanatory title. It's been interesting to observe the extent to which Dawkins has been denounced by those who might be sympathetic to at least some of his conclusions, but decry his methods. A prime example would be this biology professor's review in the The New York Review of Books.

My favorite response to Dawkins of those I've come across is where else but at YouTube. The primary reason I like it is because it made me laugh, while provocatively engaging Dawkins. I'd be interested to find out what someone more inclined to agree with Dawkins, even absent the vitriol, thought.

A part of the audio is explained by its play on this quote from Dawkins' book re the "psychotic" God of the Bible: "arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully."

While it might be easy to dismiss Dawkins as just a pretty angry, rhetorically sloppy and excessive guy, upset that not everyone else thinks as he does, the response he's elicited indicates that he's serving as an emotional outlet for the simmering resentment of a fair number of people.

For a patient Christian response that attempts to inhabit and engage Dawkins' views, on this page are the first three of ten posts entitled "The God Hypothesis" from New Testament professor Scot McKnight with comments from a university research scientist.

I think there's actually an irony concerning Dawkins and his ilk. Their vociferous denials are more attuned to the real God, who threatens and undermines our pretensions to autonomy, than many who are formally religious, have crafted their own "spirituality" or are apathetic, even if they claim to "believe" in God.

With respect to Dawkins' above-cited stream of invectives directed at God, we should be mindful of the fact that neither Dawkins nor anyone else in their efforts to shock, insult or otherwise can come close to approaching the actual offense of the cross where God in Christ was physically manhandled and abused while taking on himself every bit of our reproach. It is in and through our derision and denial that God calls us to himself, opening our eyes to the depth of our acrimony towards him (reflected in our treatment of one another, who are made in God's image, with Jesus - God and man - epitomizing both), even as he forgives us; so that we no longer deride and deny, but are those who confess and trust in the One whose abundant mercy and grace so defy our categories and expectations.

Alexander and friends

In other news....

On February 5, 2007, at 4:21 a.m., Alexander Mounir Hanna, was born to Nevine and I. For those keeping score, that makes two girls - Ashley and Gabbie - and two boys - David and Alexander. Nevine and Alexander are both healthy and seem to be getting along quite nicely. Apparently, there's something to this mother-child bonding thing.

He's English, so he must be smart

This from British New Testament scholar NT Wright from his interview with "Christianity Today," published in the January 2007 edition:

There's a certain kind of modernist would-be orthodoxy, which uses the word God in something like the old Deist sense. He's a distant, absentee landlord who suddenly decides to intervene in the world after all, and he looks like Jesus. But we already know who God is; now I want you to believe that this God became human in Jesus. The New Testament routinely puts it the other way around. We don't actually know who God is. We have some idea, the God of Israel, or of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the Creator God. But until we look hard at Jesus, we really haven't understood who God is.

That's precisely what John says at the end of the prologue: No one has ever seen God; the only begotten God who is in the bosom of the father, he has made him known. John's provided an exegesis for who God is. And in Colossians 1 as well, he is the image of the invisible God. In other words, don't assume that you've got God taped, and fit Jesus into that. Do it the other way. We all come with some ideas of God. Allow those ideas to be shaped around Jesus. That is the real challenge of New Testament Christology.

The whole interview is worth reading.

All Things New

Taking out the garbage this morning, I noticed we had new dumpsters in our apartment complex. I caught myself admiring how "nice" they looked, what with their shiny dumpster steel and all. What struck me was how much anything new grabs our attention. The trouble with things "new" is that they don't remain that way. So even as we appreciate the "newness" and want to somehow preserve it, there's already an anticipation of loss in our knowing that the "newness" is passing and temporary. Some of us actually have a hard time with this and so end up constantly moving from one new thing to the next, looking and searching for that ever elusive something whose newness is not passing but is somehow permanent or even inexpicably intensifying.

For the two years before moving to Glenside, PA (just outside Philadelphia) in 2005 to attend Westminster Theological Seminary, I worked in Newark, NJ. It probably won't surprise you to know that there are a lot of ugly, rundown buildings in Newark. Each of those buildings was at one time new when they were constructed. For those who owned, lived in or even rented business space in them, the "new" buildings briefly instilled a sense of hope before their decay.

The interesting thing I find is that while we are attracted to the novelty of newness, what we more deeply long for is its permanency. In wanting things to "stay new," which on the surface might appear to be a contradiction, what is revealed is that "newness" isn't so much a function of time as it is a condition or status; hence the phrase "good as new."

I think we have every reason to be drawn to things new. The anticipation of things new is all over the Scriptures, with Isaiah audaciously writing of the creation of a new heaven and new earth. Is. 65:17. The rumbling of expectation in the Hebrew Scriptures explodes all over the pages of the New Testament. There is a new covenant, new song, new life, new birth, new wine, new self and new Jerusalem. In Christ, there is a new creation. This is isn't just on an individual level, but globally and cosmically. The resurrection definitively pronounces that sin, evil and death have been defeated. Now, as a present reality. But not fully and finally. Thus "already" and "not yet" (hey, that sounds familiar). This renewal is now being worked out in history to its completion through the work of Jesus by his Spirit. And it is happening in the same manner Jesus brought it about - through life-giving, life-transforming speech and actions, marked by truth, love, self-denial, courage, humility, obedience, joy, self-giving, forgiveness, justice, mercy and grace.

That is why the New Testament speaks of taking up our cross and following Jesus. In a sense, we are called to recapitulate the life of Jesus in our own experience. He gives us the privilege of walking the same path he walked. But our cross-bearing, unlike his, is not one of shame and ignominy and judgment. Ours is in a sense a sign of our present resurrection. That is also why in the New Testament there is much talk of participation in the sufferings of Christ; and there is even rejoicing at even being found worthy to identify with him in such a way.

It is what Christ has done and is now doing that is real and lasting and permanent and new, being renewed. The old creation is giving way to the glory of the new creation; the old earth is giving way to the new heavens and new earth. All of which will be brought to completion upon the return of the one who is now, in his glorified resurrection body, the new creation, "reconciling to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." Colossians 1:20

"And he who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.'" Rev. 21:5.

The Dilemma of Truth and Power

Morality is unavoidable. Every “ought”, every “should”, every criticism of another person, whether verbally expressed or silently contemplated, entails a moral judgment concerning that other person. One of the interesting things I find is that a (moral?) code concerning the “avoidance” of moral claims instead of increasing civility actually undermines it and makes constructive disagreement difficult.

I think all of us to one extent or another can feel threatened by claims concerning morality and truth that we don’t subscribe to - this applies equally to those who believe in the validity of such claims - and even for valid reasons. However, I don’t think the denial of morality and truth as either existing or knowable (not exhaustively, but reliably) solves our problem. Especially considering that none of us have any problem judging others according to our concepts of morality and truth, while we deny others that same privilege, exclaiming “who are you to say,” but never thinking to turn to ourselves to ask, “who am I to say?”

The concern about moral/truth claims, which we all continue to make as intractably moral beings - yes, including those who self-identify as secular - is control, manipulation, coercion. Now, the fact of the matter is human history is the story of the abuse and misuse of any and all things, be it money, sex, political power, intelligence, etc. So the question is why the abuse of morality/truth by some should result in their generally becoming suspect. At the risk of being redundant, I don’t think this is what happens across the board anyway, but seems to be a convenient way of dismissing the stuff that threatens our own moral/truth claims, even if we only call such claims “choices.”

Having said that, I agree that a truth claim is in itself an assertion of power because implicit in a claim to “truth” is that it should be followed and adhered to. In a sense, the claim says, “believe me” and/or “obey me.” And if I disagree or don’t acknowledge its truth, then the power of the claim imposes itself on me in my resistance to it. This is the case regardless of the civility with which the claim may be presented. Actually, if the claim is accompanied by threats of physical violence, then it is no longer the claim that is threatening, but the person or group issuing the threats.

Yet, the eradication of truth claims does not do anything to assist us in this regard. If we dismiss the reliable accessibility of truth as something to which we can point others, then any moral judgments or attempts to persuade are merely coercive exercises in power and manipulation to conform others to one’s own preferences. Now, this coercive manipulation maybe executed politely and intelligently, with sophisticated argumentation. In the end, absent truth, it is then a polite, intelligent and sophisticated exercise in manipulative power.

Thus, truth claims are threatening and possibly coercive exercises in power. At the same time, the denial of truth leaves us with only coercive exercises in power. We are in a bind without a way out.

At this point, someone may interrupt to say, “uh, since you like believe in God and stuff, don’t you think you should, you know, mention him or something.” Okey dokey.

But does this help us out of our bind concerning truth and its coercive power? Well, actually, there are many who consider God to be the most coercive truth claim of all – one whose power is to exercise control over otherwise “free” people. In my experience, many who self-identify as secular don’t so much deny that there could be or is a god (though of course some do), but what they resolutely deny is that God is true and good. Okay, so they should just stop this nonsense about “there is no truth” or “we can’t know the truth” and realize that God is truth; and he is good, not coercive, and that’ll get us out of our bind and solve our problem concerning truth and morality. No. That won’t get it done.

The Old Testament book of Isaiah is largely comprised of the prophet Isaiah’s proclamation of truth and justice against his contemporaries’ falsehood and injustice: “Stop doing wrong, learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the cause of the widow.” Is. 1:16-17. In the book’s 6^th chapter, Isaiah himself has an encounter with the truth, he experiences the presence of ultimate reality, namely God, and he falls to pieces: “Woe is me! I cried. I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.” Is. 6:5. The truth comes to Isaiah and searches him out, exposing him for who he is, telling him what he’s really like, and he cannot bear it: “Woe is me…I am ruined.” In the light of truth, he realizes that he is not in any way the truthful person he might have imagined himself to be, but realizes that he, like everyone around him, is basically a poseur and pretender whose own mouth is sullied by the half-truths, untruths, sort of truths he utters: “I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.”

I think this is one picture of what the experience of judgment might be like. We spend our entire lives covering up, shading, deflecting, maneuvering, blame-shifting, pretending and posing. These are all survival mechanisms. Who of us if we were to be full exposed to the light of truth without anywhere to hide or run, if we were to have our conventional weapons of self-defense taken from us that keep us from even acknowledging the truth about ourselves, would not exclaim along with Isaiah, “woe is me, I am ruined?” Who of us could stand even for a moment?

So, we have a situation in which we each conduct ourselves as if we are “the truth,” even as we, in spite of our pretensions, are conscious of our need for a truth that eludes us. At the same time, we don’t really want, nor are we capable of receiving, the unvarnished truth, which simply overwhelms us. The exchange in the climactic courtroom scene in “A Few Good Men” expresses our plight: “I want the truth…You can’t handle the truth.” Truth is both unavoidable and unapproachable, and our dilemma not only remains, but is all the more apparent

Into this reality comes the one who surrenders all the power and privilege of being the truth, while remaining fully the truth. The truth puts down all his weapons and comes to us completely disarmed, even allowing us to use our weapons against him, thus exposing us all the more. Yet, it is from the cross, in his complete abandonment of power, that the truth calls us to himself in the only position that would permit us to approach him: “I, when I am lifted up from the earth (crucified), will draw all people to myself.” John 12:32. In so doing, he demonstrates that essential to truth is grace.

What is remarkable is that the pretensions to truth made by all the rest of us in religious and irreligious forms are harsh judges that do not relinquish their control or illusions of power, be they meager or substantial. By rising from the dead Jesus demonstrates that even when stripped of all “power,” the one who is truth is vindicated.

The one who is truth and grace utilizes his power in its abandonment and surrender to draw and unite to himself those who know they can’t handle the truth.

John Kamal Hanna

On January 22, 2005, my cousin John Kamal Hanna died from severe injuries sustained in a car accident nine days earlier.

John is unlike any person I have ever known. The primary reason for this is because he saw each person he encountered as being unlike any he had ever known. John was utterly fascinated by his fellow human beings, interested in what they thought and what they did; how they talked and how they walked. It’s one of the reasons he was so good at doing impressions. There are those of you reading this who I think might rather have enjoyed John’s impersonation of you, even as it might have caused you to squirm a little. At times John’s impressions were so good, that the next time you saw the person, it seemed as if he were himself doing an impression of John’s impression.

As I’ve already made clear, there is no doubt that John was endowed with extraordinary personal gifts, among which was an incomparable sense of humor. Yet, the best way I can put the noticeable change in him after he entrusted himself to Christ a mere 5 years before he died was that he became more himself. His already splendid sense of humor became more abundant. Even his impressions transitioned from being a way of poking fun to being a tribute to his affection for people. That didn't make them any less uproarious by the way. To enter into a room where John was present was to usually enter a room filled with laughter, with his own distinctive, infectious laugh always standing out.

While in many respects, the “old” John remained recognizable, even as his traits became more pronounced, refined and restored, there was one characteristic, among others, that was altogether new. Quite frankly, the notion of service or being available to the point of inconvenience for those in difficult circumstances was not something that would have occurred to John. He became not just a servant, but a model servant, ready to set aside his agenda to meet a need, to provide counsel, to accomodate himself to what was necessary for the other's well-being. Yet, this did not suppress the other aspects of his personality, but only served to accentuate them; thereby, revealing more of John's "true self."

John was interested in people for their own sakes, and they flourished in his presence. To the athlete, he was an athlete; always intelligent and curious, but a voracious reader only after his conversion, to the intellectual, an intellectual; to the child, a child; to the elderly, attentive, respectful and, as always, interested and curious, in the best sense of the word. The weak, rejected or “insignificant” with him were strong, accepted and significant. With respect to all races, cultures and ethnicities, he would enter and inhabit the other person’s world, adapting himself to his thinking and environment. Even as an Egyptian he was unique in his ability to relate to other Egyptians for whom English was not their primary language, as he was fully conversant in the nuances and cadences of spoken Arabic unlike anyone else whose family immigrated when he was a mere 3 months of age. No one, not even visitors from Egypt or new immigrants, could tell an Egyptian joke the way John did. And it didn’t even matter that he would always be the first to laugh upon his exquisite delivery of the punchline that you could listen to time and again.

Four weeks before he died, John mobilized a group of people to distribute food and clothing to the homeless in Newark, NJ on Christmas morning. That which John began has continued for the last two years. Confidently, I can tell you that it is a more fitting celebration of the incarnation: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake, he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” 1 Cor. 8:9.

John was the living embodiment of the Apostle Paul’s writing in 1 Cor. 9:19-23, which, in vv. 22-23, concludes: “I have become all things to all people that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings.” Now some of you maybe thinking, “wait a second I thought you said John cared for people for their own sakes; but here it talks about ‘saving’ and adjusting to people for the ‘sake of the gospel.’” These are not contradictory. Because John loved people for their own sake he wanted them to know the one in whom there is the life, freedom and joy of being their true selves, just as he was “more himself.” This wasn’t an ulterior motive; nor was it him “pretending” to be interested in people so he could get credit for “changing” them. Jesus, who John freely emulated, is the ultimate one who enters into our world, at immeasurable cost to himself, for our sake and changes us.

I know all this may come across as hagiography from someone who loves and misses John. Actually, I am exercising restraint in order to keep this from being too long. During John's nine days in the hospital, and in the aftermath of his death, many people, some unknown to those of us close to him, indentified him as their "best" or "only" friend. The more likely a person was to be ignored by others, the more likely it was that John would be drawn to him.

As I’ve already said, what made John this way was not any claim to goodness on his own part, but his recognition that he was a forgiven sinner rooted in the love and mercy that Jesus freely gives. Furthermore, as I read the New Testament, I cannot help but think this is what we’re all supposed to look like as our “true selves,” for in Jesus the broken image of God, that John so readily recognized in each person, is restored and renewed. It is safe to say that this reality penetrated and captivated John more deeply than the rest of us.

Martin Luther King

For those who've never read it, here's Martin Luther King's Letter from Birmingham Jail. And if you've read it, it's worth rereading, especially if it's been a while.

Don't say that word

This article on the "pursuit of happiness" was on the NY Times most emailed list for nearly a week after its appearance. It's actually on the proliferation of "positive psychology" classes in colleges and universities. Given the article's length and subject matter, it could be dissected and discussed from numerous angles. Assuming my brief attention span is not diverted by other matters (you know what they say about assuming), I hope to return to it. I want to highlight this intriguing paragraph:

I sat in on the course a few more times during the semester, and when Kashdan was done with pleasure versus selfless giving, he took up gratitude and forgiveness, close relationships and love, then spirituality and well-being and finally “meaning and purpose in life.” “I never use the word morality,” Kashdan said. Rather his goal was to show that “there are ways of living that research shows lead to better outcomes.”

There are a number of things immediately striking. The first of which is that these issues are unavoidable. Now, what’s interesting is that here we have what is for all intents and purposes a “religion” class (it deals with the issues and questions religions generally address), not in order to critically study the religion – history, development, etc., which is the usual approach in colleges and universities - but in the manner of instruction/ indoctrination as to how to live. I’m not writing this in order to complain of “bias” or to cry “no fair,” but only to point out that the lines sometimes drawn with respect to these matters are not nearly as clear as is sometimes maintained. Issues of meaning, purpose, how to live well – which any perspective on reality, life, humanity will address – are essential to being human and are, broadly speaking, “religious.”

Now, the instructor tries to get around this by avoiding the word “morality.” This avoidance strikes me as bordering on taboo, with “morality” being a “bad” word that’s forbidden. I’m reminded of a familiar phrase pertaining to a certain aquatic fowl that talks and walks. Immediately problematic is the fact that forgiveness necessarily entails a moral judgment concerning the wrongfulness of the conduct of the “forgiven” person. As a matter of fact, “I forgive you” can be offensive to a person who doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong that warrants forgiveness. “I forgive you” basically means “you’ve done something wrong, but I will not hold it against you.” Absent morality, forgiveness is gutted of any meaning.

Furthermore, our understanding of life’s meaning and purpose is inextricably tied to morality. To posit that morality is disconnected from meaning, purpose, relationships and love would render “morality” an arbitrary set of rules disconnected from reality. Whether or not we agree with their particular claims, any set of moral directives is designed to be consistent with questions of meaning and purpose, etc. That is what we have here – guidelines for life arising out of consideration of these larger questions. And it is not the case that the students are to figure out these matters for themselves. They have come to receive instruction from an authority figure, in order to appropriate what is inescapably moral guidance. The fact he says this is only about "better" outcomes does not change this. "Better' is not a morally neutral word, but implies a hierarchy of outcomes.

One of the points of the article, it seems to me, is that reality has a discernible shape. And it is up to us to conform ourselves to its, dare I say, "authority," as opposed to doing what we "feel" or "want," if we are to live well. This truth is not negated by the fact we don't achieve consensus or always agree. Intuitively we should know this to be the case. With respect to those things that matter to us, such as our careers, health and fitness, finances, hobbies, etc., we submit our inclinations and desires to their "authority" in order that we might be "good" in that area of our life. One should expect that to be the case with respect to life's most essential issues and questions.

"Shattering" God

To my worldwide readership – all two of you – not to worry, for I have returned from my long travail. I have climbed every mountain, forded every stream, weathered every storm, taken on every challenge…um…well…actually I haven’t done any of that. Still, the journey from discombobulated thoughts to semi-coherent sentences poses its own challenges (I know some of you are thinking, "you're sentences are just fine; it's your thinking that's incoherent." Well, cut it out). I hope we’re still friends anyway.

I credit my friend and fellow Westminster blogger, David Williams, for turning my attention to this passage in CS Lewis’ “A Grief Observed” a few months ago:

My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it Himself. He is the great iconoclast. Could we not almost say that this shattering is one of the marks of his presence? The Incarnation is the supreme example; it leaves all previous ideas of the Messiah in ruins. And most are ‘offended’ by the iconoclasm; and blessed are those who are not.

It is significant that Lewis wrote this in his last book, which, as its title states, is about grief. The grief Lewis “observed” is his own after his wife’s death from cancer. In the introduction, his stepson described the book as “one man’s studied attempts to come to grips with and in the end defeat the emotional paralysis of the most shattering grief of his life.” He further characterizes it: “This book is a man emotionally naked in his own Gethsemane. It tells of the agony and the emptiness of a grief such as few of us have to bear.”

Lewis’ candor in the book, which is really an undated “diary” of reflections in a collection of notebooks is startling as he writes what we might consider “blasphemy”: “What reason have we, except our own desperate wishes, to believe that God is, by any standard we can conceive, ‘good’? Doesn’t all the prima facie evidence suggest exactly the opposite? What have we to set against it?” But then he answers: “We set Christ against it.” Then, in his torment, he accuses: “Time after time, when he seemed most gracious. He was really preparing the next torture.” The next day he reflects: “I wrote that last night. It was a yell rather than a thought.” And Lewis the reasoner and thinker returns: “Is it rational to believe in a bad God? Anyway, in a God so bad as all that? The Cosmic Sadist, the spiteful imbecile? I think it is, if nothing else, too anthropomorphic.” Such a being “couldn’t invent, create or govern anything.” Then he descends again: “Finally, if reality at its very root is so meaningless to us – or, putting it the other way around, if we are such total imbeciles – what is the point of trying to think about God or about anything else?”

He says that we “babble” about the pain suffered by the one we love: “If only I could bear it, or the worst of it, or any of it, instead of her.” Ever sober, he continues:

But one can’t tell how serious that bid is, for nothing is staked on it. If it suddenly became a real possibility, then, for the first time, we should discover how seriously we had meant it. But is it ever allowed? It was allowed to One, we are told, and I find I can now believe again, that he has done vicariously whatever can be so done. He replies to our babble: “You cannot and you dare not. I could and I dared.”

Here we have the depth of agony and pain, unflinchingly looking into the face of reality, and not culminating in rage, bitterness, despair, nihilism, rationalization, sentiment, resignation or cynicism. If Lewis had only believed in a “nice,” sentimental god who watches us and smiles or disappointingly shakes his head “from a distance,” he never could have written this book. If he’d only believed in a god of his own making, choosing those parts he preferred and discarding the rest, he could not have written this book, for one cannot wrestle, be angry and argue with a god who only “agrees” with him. If he only believed in a god whose approval we earn by our “goodness,” he could not have written this book. If he only believed in a god who rewards “faith” with a life free from trouble or hardship, he could not have written this book. No such conceptions of God, or any other for that matter, could have survived Lewis’ experience.

Lewis was shattered and, remarkably, so was his conception of God. Yet, the shattering only deepened his understanding of this same God. For Lewis, even in the midst of his grief and sorrow, looked into the face of the incarnate God and found that his grief and sorrow had gone even deeper than his own. It is there before the person on that Roman instrument of torture and execution, abandoned, scorned and “shattered,” identifying with us as both sinful victimizers and suffering victims, and that same person raised to life now “making all things new,” dwelling with us by his Spirit, that we find the full revelation of God in the one who was most fully human. It is there we find “the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,” Col. 2:3, and catch ourselves at times surprised or even stunned, as we experience paradigm shifts on a regular basis, with the implications of it all beginning to incrementally dawn on us.

More Amish

This week's awful events reminded me of something Tim Keller of Redeemer Presbyterian in New York wrote in the wake of 9/11/01. Right after September 11, Keller posed a series of questions and answers directly pertaining to the attacks. One of the questions was:

7. Doesn't this just show how dangerous it is to believe too strongly that your religion is 'right'?

Here was his answer:

It has been widely stated that the terrorist attacks show us that religion is only good for us in moderate amounts. The argument goes something like this:

'This proves that religious fundamentalists of all sorts are a great danger. They believe that God is on their side, and that they therefore have the right to conquer or kill others who don't believe." One writer even said, "It seems almost as if there is something inherent in religious monotheism that lends itself to this kind of terrorist temptation" because "in a world of absolute truth, in matters graver than life and death, there is no room for dissent and no room for theological doubt." (Andrew Sullivan, "This is a Religious War", New York Time Magazine, October 7, 2001) So the question is--does 'religious fundamentalism' inevitably lead to oppression and even violence?

The right answer is--it all depends on what your 'Fundamental' is. Let me give you two examples. First there is the Khymer Rouge, a Marxist movement that did not believe in God or any transcendent moral absolutes of any sort. Yet it was one of the most genocidal regimes in history. The second example is the Amish, who are an extremely conservative religious sect. They even refuse to wear modern western dress. They are by modern standards very patriarchal. They believe the Bible very literally and believe it is the absolute truth. If the Amish are such absolutists in their beliefs, why aren't we afraid of Amish terrorists?

The answer has to do with what the Amish "Fundamental" is. It is the same fundamental that all Christians share. Only Christianity (of the major religions) tells us that God came to earth and that when he did, he came not with a sword in his hand but with nails in his hands. He came not to accrue power, not to be served, but to serve and give his life a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). And not only that, Jesus Christ did not pay the price of sin and die just for "good" people who were wisely following him, but also for people who were rejecting him and abandoning him. If that is the fundamental at the heart of your faith, at the heart of your self-identity, and at the heart of your relationship with God--then it will make you (like Jesus) want to 'win' people to God by serving them, not conquering them. "For not with swords loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums, but deeds of love and mercy the heavn'ly kingdom comes." (Ernest W. Shurtleff, "Lead On O King Eternal", 1888).If you believe very strongly in the absolute truth of the gospel of the cross and grace of God, it will only serve to drain you of superiority and self-righteousness.

For those interested in the entire Q&A, here it is.

Love...do good....bless....pray

From The New York Times, Oct 4, 2006:

In one sign of their approach to tragedy, Amish residents started a charity fund yesterday not only to help the victims’ families but also to help the gunman’s widow.

“This is imitation of Christ at its most naked,” Mr. Shachtman said. “If anybody is going to turn the other cheek in our society, it’s going to be the Amish.”

He continued, “I don’t want to denigrate anybody else who says they’re imitating Christ, but the Amish walk the walk as much as they talk the talk.”

The Amish surmount hardship through mutual aid. When a barn burns, they do not call the insurance company. They have a barn raising, said Kimberly D. Schmidt, associate professor of history at Eastern Mennonite University, in Harrisonburg, Va., who has studied Amish women.

“For the families who lost children, there will be a tremendous community outpouring of love and support,” Ms. Schmidt said. “They will not suffer alone in their grief at all. People will bring in meals for weeks. As devastating as this is, there’s so much strength they can draw from thceir community.”

HT: Mark Traphagen

UPDATE: This opinion column captures the point. I agree with the writer, Dreher, that the talk of an Amish "lost innocence" is misplaced. If the Amish really thought they lived in some sort of idealic innocence untouched by life's vagaries, they would have freaked out because their life's foundation would have been destroyed. But the Amish are realists. They understand this is the way the world is. Yet they also know that this "way of the world" is what Jesus dealt with in his death and resurrection. Thus, while they do of course grieve, they are able to extend forgiveness while living with hope.

Is it really true?

The Gospel is bad news before it is the good news. It is the news that man is a sinner, to use the old word, that he is evil in his imagination of his heart, that when he looks in the mirror all in a lather what he sees is at least eight parts chicken, phony, slob. That is the tragedy. But it is also the news that he is loved anyway, cherished, forgiven, bleeding to be sure, but also bled for. That is the comedy. And yet, so what? So what if even in his sin the slob is loved and forgiven when the very mark and substance of his sin and of his slobbery is that he keeps turning down the love and forgiveness because he either doesn't believe them or doesn't want them or just doesn't give a damn? In answer, the news of the Gospel is that extraordinary things happen just as in fairy tales extraordinary things happen. . . . .It is impossible for anybody to leave behind the darkness of the world he carries on his back like a snail, but for God all things are possible. That is the fairy tale. All together they are the truth.

-- From Frederick Buechner's "Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy & Fairy Tale"

Civil marriage

Jamie Raskin joined the faculty at the Washington College of Law at American University when I was a student there. Right away, we realized Jamie would be a different type of professor when he joined our intramural football team. I don't really see any need at this point to get into how Jamie's season ended with a fractured jaw.

My fondest memory of Jamie is from his brother's wedding, giving the most rousing and raucous best man speech I have ever witnessed. For every moment he spoke, he had the entire room hanging on his every word, eliciting roaring laughter at each moment he intended. Needless to say, Jamie was pretty impressive before a classroom of students as well.

Jamie is now a democratic candidate for State Senate in Maryland. The primary was held today, and the results should already be known by the time you read this. Jamie is running as a progressive and has taken positions on many issues. Among his positions is support of marriage for same-sex couples. Earlier this year, Jamie gave a statement before the Maryland legislature, explaining his position and opposing a state amendment. His statement is available here. Below is the response I sent to Jamie (with some editing). Wherever you stand on the issue, I hope you read both statements:

I have had a chance to read your statement before the Maryland Legislature concerning same-sex marriage (“SSM”). If I were a SSM enthusiast, I would certainly want others to read and consider your careful, thoughtful and reasoned statement. Accordingly, I hope you understand that in responding to your statement, I do so out of considerable respect. I am also fairly confident, given your interest in advancing our public policy discussions, that you welcome a dissenting response.

While I realize the issues are intertwined, my response does not address the specific issue of amending state or federal constitutions, but the issue of SSM in general.

Your statement rests on two primary suppositions: 1. Opposition to SSM is only based on theological/religious considerations, and thus is an imposition of particular religious beliefs in violation of church-state separation; and 2. opposition to SSM is irrational and wholly prejudicial, based only on fear and animus.

Together, these two arguments comprise the following narrative: “religiously narrow bigots seek to impose their intolerant views by preventing two people who love and are committed to one another from getting married.” I agree with you to this extent: if I accepted this narrative, then I too would also support your conclusions. The question before us is whether we can only consider the issue of SSM from this narratival perspective.

First is the matter of the inherent public policy invalidity of a position resting on “theological premises.” I think your position attempts to draw bright lines in an area where historically the boundaries have been, at best, fuzzy. For example, as I am sure your are aware, many of the advancements of civil liberties in our nation’s history, such as the abolition of slavery and women’s suffrage, came about through overtly, though not exclusively, religious advocacy and underpinnings. The most significant socio-political movement of the 20th century in America , the Civil Rights movement, was distinctively Biblical in its quest for justice. Its primary organization was the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. As has historically been the case, currently, there are religiously based appeals to shape government on issues such as income assistance, housing, healthcare and the environment. As a matter of fact, as your statement points out, there are many who support same-sex marriage on religious grounds.

The reason this is the case is because each citizen brings his whole perspective to the issues before us. In reading your statement, I think I know what principles (“religion”) guide your thinking on the subject of SSM. Personally, I think it is preferable to articulate one’s positions in a way that is accessible to those who have differing beliefs if one is going to be at all persuasive. However, while I think this is advisable, I do not think our Constitution dictates to our nation’s citizens the manner in which they should publicly speak. I think Yale law prof Stephen Carter is helpful here: “Efforts to craft a public square from which religious conversation is absent, no matter how thoughtfully worked out, will always in the end say to the religious that they alone, unlike everybody else, must enter public dialogue only after leaving behind that part of themselves they consider most vital.”

Admittedly, all of this presents difficulties in a society where there is a multiplicity of beliefs. However, I think your profound and heartfelt conviction on this issue caused you to address a fairly complex and even interesting subject in highly stark and simplistic terms. It seems to me your objection to religiously based opposition to same-sex marriage is not an objection to religion, but is actually a disagreement about the issue itself. In other words, it is not so much that opposition to SSM is religious, but that it is simply irrational and bigoted, in so far as you are concerned; and the religious content of the objection to SSM does not rescue it from its inherent bigotry.

I think it helpful in considering the relationship between religion and government to differentiate between two categories of beliefs. There are beliefs/practices that are distinctively religious, not subject to the state's authority. The Jewish and Christian rites of circumcision and baptism fall into this category. At the same time, there are beliefs espoused by religion that are held in common as a matter of conscience and address issues of public concern. Most of our laws fall into the latter category. To use an obvious example, the fact the Bible contains an injunction against murder does not render laws prohibiting murder an imposition of religion or a violation of the “separation of church and state.”

Far from being a “privatized” religious belief, unrelated to public concern, marriage is the most prominent example of a widely and universally recognized institution. People across all beliefs (and unbeliefs), cultures, ethnicities, etc., have been marrying one another for as long as there have been beliefs, cultures and ethnicities. It has been the building block of all societies, regardless of religion. Marriage is part of every society's foundational structure.

Throughout all this time, in spite of substantial social, cultural and religious differences concerning various aspects of marriage, always and everywhere, the definition of marriage is the union of a man and woman. The definition of marriage does not contain 5 or 6 components, one of which is that the parties be male and female. Its only component is the joining of a man and woman. That is one of the reasons why the comparison to bans on interracial marriages is misplaced. Interracial marriages fit within the definition of marriage but were forbidden because of virulent racism. Conversely, two people of the same sex can't get married not due to discrimination, but simply because their relationship is other than marriage. In all the societies that have existed across millennia, they did not contemplate marriage as either the union of a man and woman or the union of two people of the same sex, but decided to ban same sex unions because of animus towards them. The marital institution has never been intended to exclude anyone.

Also, given the brutal and painful history of race relations in this country, the ongoing comparison of the SSM issue to bans on interracial marriages comes across as exploitative, manipulative and lacking in historical perspective. Unlike race, gender is a valid distinction, no more so than in the context of human sexuality. No one thinks that heterosexuals are “bigoted” when they restrict their option of a marital partner to only those of the opposite sex. Gays and lesbians do the same thing when they restrict their options to only those of the same sex. Also, in our society, while “separate but equal” is anathema racially, and is a relic of a tortured past, it is expected between men and women in public accommodations.

While you did not explicitly advance a privacy argument in your presentation, I think it is somewhat implicit in your discussion concerning the fundamental right to marry. Besides, I think it worthwhile, while I’m at it, to address the position that the current definition of marriage infringes on the privacy of same-sex relationships. This is not so. The movement to change marriage actually takes relationships that are exclusively private and requires government involvement in those same relationships. Meddling in anyone’s private life or forcing, legally or otherwise, anyone to behave in a certain way, is not at issue. This is not a matter of restricting or prohibiting conduct. Same-sex couples can, from a civil and legal standpoint, enter into private arrangements, or even conduct religious ceremonies, recognizing their relationships, just as they have been doing.

In so far as I can tell, the driving force behind the movement to change the definition of marriage is a legal/societal declaration of the equality of same-sex relationships. In other words, it seems the primary issue is not necessarily the relationship between the interested couple, but what society thinks of it.

All of this brings us to the following question: is it valid and reasonable for the state to distinguish between male-female and same-sex relationships? You testified that such a distinction is irrational, rooted in fear and animus, and based only on prejudice. At this point, I don’t think it will surprise to learn that I disagree with this assessment.

There are valid reasons to grant a unique status to the male-female relationship: 1. human beings are comprised of a sexual binary, male and female. The union of male and female brings together and unites humanity's two equal yet distinct sexes; and 2. the male-female union is the one through which human beings come into existence. Marriage as a male-female union promotes a union which, by its design, unites children to their mothers and fathers, in contrast to same-sex unions, which, by their design and necessity, separate children from their fathers and mothers. The fact some couples can't or choose not to procreate does not change the fact that one type of relationship brings life and one can't. The difference is categorical between two different types of relationships.

This is reality as it presents itself to us. The distinction is not irrational, prejudicial or based on fear and animus. It is simply an acknowledgement of the way things are. I do not think our society should be compelled to deny that which reason and reality overtly support as true.

Furthermore, I think it is a misjudgment for proponents of SSM to connect the value and dignity of homosexuals to society’s affirmation of the false notion that male-female and same-sex relations are the same. Individual human dignity and value are inherent and not premised on society’s stamp of approval on particular behaviors or relationships between persons.

In your testimony, you identified “natural law” as an inappropriate consideration. I am not sure if you would include my reasoning within your definition. If that is the case, given the evidentiary and empirical character of my position, it is not clear to me on what basis this issue can be discussed. It would seem to me at that point that all we would have left are the raw materials of power, will and emotions.

Also, in your testimony, you challenged the notion that homosexuality is chosen and referred to the “scientific evidence” supporting its hereditary and biological basis. I do not think those are the only options. First, I agree that our sexual inclinations are not simply chosen. This does not make them biologically determined however (the “scientific” evidence on this point does not appear to carry the weight you ascribe to it). Of course, we do not simply validate conduct due to its allegedly biological basis anyway. “My genes made me do it” is not considered a valid justification. You implicitly acknowledge this in your reference to the impropriety of the State Comptroller’s conduct.

In general, in many respects, we are the product of biological and social forces that have imposed themselves on us. At the same time, we are conscious and responsible actors who have the considerable capacity to shape and direct our own lives. Both of these things are true. In this case, we also have the potent and deeply personal element of sexuality. All told, this is a complex subject that does not lend itself to reductionistic conclusions, such as comparisons to hair color. Yet, the recognition of such complexity does not mandate that the state must officially and legally declare the sameness and equality of all sexual relationships.

Admittedly, one comes across personally compelling accounts, such as those on your website, from those involved in same-sex relationships. However, I do not think, as a society, we can make our judgments based solely on such subjective accounts, as heartfelt and sincere as they may be. The articulate, appealing and sympathetic quality of a cause’s proponents should not be determinative.

The male-female aspect of marriage is what defines it. That is its objective, dispassionate definition. It cannot be stated enough that this definition has never been intended to denigrate or exclude anyone. The fact that some feel stigmatized by it should not be the basis for changing society's core institution.