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.

The next big issue

This is why there's Calvin and Hobbes, and then there's all the other comic strips. No wonder the Bible has all those numbers.

Let us reason together

In a comment to my initial church-state post, Ruggman made the point that having a "Biblical worldview" considerably influences a person's life.

To know and understand that the essence of reality is God - transcendent, personal, moral, relational - who is both separate from and fills all time and space; and who entered into time and space as a human being who ultimately dies and rises in an act of unfathomable love in order bring reconciliation and renewal should and must influence every aspect of our being.

The issue which I in part raised in the post was how would we then relate to our fellow human beings made in the image of God, whose image, like ours, is tarnished and marred and broken due to our rebellion and rejection of the one who is truth, goodness and life itself. Do we stand above simply issuing religious sounding words that our hearers do not understand, or do we say, as even God himself said to his wayward people: "'Come now, let us reason together,' says the Lord." Isaiah 1:18.

It is vitally important to note that the New Testament is clear that the endpoint, purpose, meaning and understanding of Biblical revelation is found ultimately in the momentous pronoucement of the coming of God himself onto the stage of history, in the person of his Son, to bring redemption and restoration in his death and resurrection and to call to himself all those from every "tribe and language and people and nation" to entrust themselves to him. It is good news that the rule of the righteous and true king has come. "Turn to me and be saved, all you ends of the earth; for I am God and there is no other." Isaiah 45:22.

Therefore, I think the citing of Scripture's condemnations without the proclamation of their remedy in Jesus being the one who is condemned for us is a misuse of the Bible and damaging to its hearers. This is especially the case in a setting where the Bible is cited out of its context and there is no opportunity for discussion and explanation.

I want to be clear here that I am not saying it is always inappropriate to cite the Bible in public discussions. First, we should allow room for different approaches. Secondly, Scripture has much wisdom and knowledge to impart, and sometimes its jarring and pointed truth can get to the heart of the matter (I realize it may seem obscure in places and even strange to us 21st century individualists, but that is another discussion for another time). I think it is a matter of exercising sound judgment, understanding the context of the situation and those being addressed. For example, the Civil Rights movement was an overtly Christian movement that employed Scripture effectively both as the foundation and support of its just cause.

Someone might wonder whether I am taking the position in all this that the secular or relativistic person is the one who is neutral and objective, simply seeking to make reasonable judgments. Um, no. There is nothing neutral and objective about believing that either God does not exist or that God is unknowable (not only for that person but for anyone) or claiming that one believes in God or "spirituality," while only adopting those aspects of "spirituality" that are to one's taste or choosing. Each of these is a deep and personal commitment that has significant implications for how one views the world and makes decisions.

At the same time, with respect to our current situation, I think it important that we understand the perspective held by many of our friends, neighbors, co-workers and fellow citizens. To them, expressions of religious belief or appeal to writings they categorize as religious are merely private and subjective beliefs having no connection to reason or reality. When they hear an overtly religious argument to support a position on a public matter, they find it to be an imposition that has no place in a public setting, especially if it involves legislation. Now, some may have noticed that sometimes religious arguments are well-received when they support a position that is favored. Also, all laws are an "imposition" of morality. In other words, people are inconsistent and their motivations are not often clear even to themselves. My point is not to explain or justify, but to try to understand. We should be sympathetic to someone who finds it threatening to have a religion he doesn't believe have its laws imposed on him, even if he is inconsistent in his objections.

By the way, from a historic standpoint, I think the person most responsible for the above view taking hold was 18th century German philosopher Immanuel Kant (I am really stepping out of my element here, especially in discussing Kant whose writings are considered among the most difficult, and am probably inviting a smackdown from someone who may know better. Of course, I won't be the first blogger to not be impeded by a lack of expertise). Kant took the position that while God and the soul may exist, we couldn't make any definitive statements about them because we don't detect them with our senses. They can only exist in the mind because they don't correspond to sensible objects outside the mind. Therefore, such beliefs, while acceptable, are subjective and personal. In other words, "it's okay for you to believe what you believe about God, and it's okay for me to believe what I believe about God, and no one is right and no one is wrong, because we can't know any way." I hope you can see that the claim that God can't be known in a manner that corresponds to the way he actually is is itself an all-encompassing and definitive claim about God that excludes other types of claims. Kant has been internalized to such an extent that people don't realize their adherence to an 18th century German philosopher. They just express his beliefs in a "that's just the way it is," matter of fact sort of way. The irony is while we may all believe anything we want about God, belief in Kant is not quite so malleable. FYI, I am not a Kantian.

Interestingly, to the Kantians out there, the Apostle John writes: "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life - the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life." 1 John 1:1-2. In the opening to his gospel, John puts it more pointedly: "The Word became flesh." In other words, the ideal about which Kant claimed we couldn't make any definitive statements (even as he made definitive statements) became the height of empirical accessibility - a living, walking, talking, flesh and blood human being who lived in a particular time, in a particular place among a particular people.

Again, regardless of what we may think, this is where we are at. Accordingly, if we intend to engage publicly and with the people we know and care about, it is important that we express ourselves in such a way that make it clear that our positions are not grounded in some private never-never land. What we say is "come now, let us reason together." The mere fact of God making himself known to us at all and speaking to us, ultimately in Jesus, was an act of remarkable accomodation and humility on his part. In Scripture, we find the hearers being addressed in their own language in terms accessible to them. We see this in Jesus' parables, and in Paul's interaction with the Gentiles in Acts. We can stand side by side and consider the landscape together as fellow travelers, even while being transparent and honest about what we think and know. To think that we can't do so would be to deny our common humanity as those made in God's image.

It would also be a denial of the goodness of God to all humanity and creation, as evidenced by the formation of entire civilizations and the outstanding contributions made by and among those who, though they are able to discern certain truths, even with insight and brilliance, do not acknowledge and give thanks to the one who is their source and sustainer. At the same time, also undeniable is the immense good that has come into the world through those who have acted specifically on their knowledge and trust of God who, in his being is personal and relational - Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Without the advent of Jesus Christ, this world would be a much more cruel place. I am aware of the litany of misdeeds, but to make those wrongs comprise the entire 2000-year Christian narrative is, at best, highly selective and plainly wrong.

Are there tensions that exist in the views I've expressed? Sure there are. One of the most dynamic aspects of the recognition of a God-centered, God-shaped reality is the widespread existence of tensions and paradoxes, which we are called to embrace. One of the ways we all fall into error is when we seek do away with the tensions by simply ignoring or eliminating one side or the other.

Right now, we face considerable challenges on particular issues concerning which there is strident disagreement. These issues, among others, pertain to the value of human life at its beginning and end; and to the uniqueness of the male-female sexual relationship, encompassing sexuality in general. Are these matters "religious?" Yes and no. They are in the broader sense of addressing what it means to be a human being; what it means to live well; on what basis we make decisions about ourselves and our bodies; what does our body's physical design tell us? do we as a society have an obligation to include in our community and protect human beings in all stages of life, especially when they are vulnerable? Am I simply an autonomous being obligated only to myself, or is the essence of reality moral and true, so that it shapes me instead of my shaping it? These issues are not "religious" in the purely subjective, detached from reality sense commonly thought of.

Also, these are not at all simply matters of the advancement of just laws, though that is important with respect to some of the issues identified above, but broader matters concerning the governing of our lives individually and together. That is why in discussing these things I do not expect people to say: "oh John, you are so reasonable. Thanks for sharing your views. I agree with you." While we may consider the nature of reality, we have our reasons for hiding from that reality, shading the truth, justifying our conduct. Even as we may imagine ourselves to be free, we are bound. We have personal, emotional, moral, financial, professional and spiritual commitments that direct us. Much is at stake for each of us.

Yet, I think it worthwhile to do the hard work of engaging on matters that affect us so deeply. I hope and believe that as we are willing to encounter reality as it presents itself to us on these issues that are so close to the essence of who we are, we will also find ourselves facing the One who made and sustains reality, not as one who condemns us for denying what was apparently true, but as the One who came from the Father full of grace and truth to transform us into people who do not live in denial. At the same time, there is an inherent goodness to ordering our lives in accordance with what is real and true along the way.

Tennis anyone

This article has been on the NY Times most emailed list ever since it appeared on August 20. The reason I link to it is simply because it is remarkably well-written. Its excellence as a written piece makes it worthwhile. Moreover, it is excellent writing about someone who himself so excels at what he does his brilliance evokes wonder and an almost reverent appreciation. According to the author, it is "beauty" that elicits such a response.

In his thoughtful new book, NT Wright identifies this stirring longing for beauty, along wiht our longings for truth, love, justice, spirituality and relationship as "echoes of a voice" that inhabits and fills reality.

More Kids

If you have a child or know of one with possible learning/ development/attention difficulties, this book may be helpful. Hey, I just realized the author has the same last name as I do.

TV or not TV

Speaking of kids watching television (that is what we were talking about, right?), the other day, as I was seated doing something I thought important, I observed a familiar and disturbing scene. Our 5-year old, Gabbie, and 2-year old, David, were transfixed to a Dora video (don’t worry. You either know Dora or you don’t. “Dora the Explorer” is not the issue). Naturally, my thoughts turned to the first chapter of Genesis (oh, you mean that’s not “natural?”)

Genesis 1 presents an account of the creation, culminating in the creation of human beings – male and female. What we find from the beginning is that, as those made in the image of God, the Creator, we were made to work, to be productive, to be creative. We were not made to be passive consumers, existing to be entertained. Now, in some respects, watching a program, attending a movie, etc., can be a way to appreciate someone else’s creativity. However, to turn to television, the internet, etc. as an antidote to boredom, or as a default choice, is a futile, mind-numbing, soul-crushing exercise that will only serve to increase the restlessness, boredom and sense of dislocation for anyone, child or adult.

So we should all get out and be productive creators, right? Well, yes, but Genesis 1 does not tell us the whole story. In Genesis 3, we see what the problem is – why we are not the creative producers we were designed to be. Genesis tells us about what is known as “the Fall” – Adam and Eve’s rejection of God’s design for creation’s, including their own, flourishing under God’s gracious rule. God’s image in humanity is broken. As a result, everything becomes fractured and infected, including work, our creative activity, which is now difficult and painful and demanding. So, we shy away from work and creativity and resist it. And now, the opportunities to passively take and consume “entertainment,” to run from work’s struggle, are available as never before in history.

Thankfully, that is not the end of the story. In Genesis 3, we have God instilling the hope that he would not abandon us to our fallen, decaying, disintegrating state. From that point forward, all those who trusted in God – with Abraham being the paradigmatic figure – looked to him in hope that he would forgive, restore and renew. This he does in Abraham’s son, “the image of the invisible God,” the one by whom all things were created, and by whom there is a renewed and restored creation, which includes work.

Even now, as Jesus is “making all things new,” the effects of the fallen creation remain, as she “groans” for her full and final redemption and liberation upon Jesus’ return, when he will bring to completion that which he accomplished in his death and resurrection. And so we know that creative activity is good, but we also understand the nature of the struggle and are not confused by it, thinking the way out is through some form of “escape.” We create and produce with a real hope based on what God through Jesus Christ has done, is doing and will do. This includes activity that restores or renews, such as fixing something broken, ordering something disordered or simply cleaning. Furthermore, when our productivity is undertaken for the good of another, the renewing work of Christ is truly being reflected.

Conclusion: I really think my kids should watch less television and maybe try to build something with all those stray pieces of lego all over our home. Maybe it would help if I actually participated with them. Hmmm.

Conclusion 2: What I said about “Dora the Explorer” not being the issue isn’t true. I have been listening to her voice incessantly for way too long and I want her to go away.

Note: this post is not intended to instill feelings of superiority in those who work hard, especially if they are overworking. Obviously, the issues pertaining to creativity, work, rest, our self efforts to deal with our broken image (such as building our identity on our accomplishments) and God’s restoration of that image are plentiful.

Note 2: If you don't like it, you try coming up with a title.

I want therefore I am

After picking up my seven-year old daughter, Ashley, from school today, I imposed on her a cruel and intolerable burden. Instead of going directly home, we stopped at a store, thus foiling Ashley's elaborate television watching plans. On the way to the store, the following discussion ensued:

Ashley: I don't want to go to the store (though seated and buckled, she was very much "foot-stomping" unhappy.)

Me: You can't always get what you want (singing - imagine Mick Jagger, only, you know, completely different.)

Ashley: I always have to get what I want.

Me: If you think you always have to get what you want, you are going to have a very unhappy life.

Ashley: But adults always get what they want.

Me: Incoherent response expressing vehement disagreement, something along the lines of "uh...doh...pff...tthaah...nu uh."

Ashley: Yes they do.

Me: (gathering my composure slightly) No they don't. They just complain about it differently than kids do. (I don't think that was a particularly edifying parental comment.)

Ashley: Yes they do (shockingly unpersuaded by my "I'm rubber and you're glue, everything you say bounces off me and sticks to you" form of argument.) They can do whatever they want. But if kids can't do whatever they want, then adults shouldn't be able to do whatever they want either.

Talk amongst yourselves.

The Problem

In my previous post I alluded to the classic problem of evil as the ultimate objection to the existence of an all-powerful, all-good God. Clearly, there is a lot of very bad stuff happening everywhere, all around us that causes us to ask, "where is justice? where is goodness? where is love?" The bottom line is this: if the one in control were good there wouldn’t be so much bad.

There are many who consider the presence of pain, suffering and evil to be an airtight argument refuting the existence of God. I think however this line of reasoning actually poses a problem for those who advance it. What they are responding to is a world in which they find all sorts of things that are objectionable, disturbing and awful. In other words, there is the way things are, which does not measure up to what they should be. There is not only what “is,” but also what “ought” to be. However, in a purely material universe, devoid of God, there is only “is,” leaving us without a basis for objections concerning the outworking of its mechanistic process. There is no “ought” to which we can appeal.

Furthermore, assuming for a moment that God – ultimate personal, moral reality - were only good but not ultimately powerful, evil and suffering would not be as perplexing as we experience them to be because it would not be in God’s power to restrain them. If God were powerful but not good – which seems to be the most common position even among those who claim a disbelief in God (I think “Seinfeld” pretty much got it right: Jerry: I thought you didn’t believe in God; George: I do for the bad stuff.) – we also would not experience evil and suffering as inconsistent with the essence of the way things should be because they would be consistent with God’s character, which would not require their elimination. However, it is because the essence of reality is all-powerful and good that evil and suffering are the exact problem we recognize them to be. Our visceral response to them only makes sense in light of God’s power and goodness since our expectation that things shouldn’t be this way are justified. The anguish that causes us to reflexively cry out “how?” and “why?” is not irrational babbling disconnected from the way things are, but firmly rooted in a reality that requires they be dealt with and ultimately eradicated.

It is worth noting at this point that in all our objections, there is an implied assumption not taken into account. Clearly, we, people, are the culprits in the overwhelming majority of the bad stuff that goes on. When we blame God for the state of our world and our own lives, we are actually blaming him for making us because we are the ones destroying our world, ourselves and each other. We are blaming him for making us with the capacity/freedom to choose. Implicitly, we are confessing our accountability for our wrongdoing. At this point, it would seem that the one who is all-powerful and good, to be true to his nature, would be compelled to include us in his eradication of evil and suffering. More than being a problem for us, evil and suffering are ultimately a problem for God.

Instead of leaving us to wallow in our angst or casting us aside, ultimate goodness and power came and dwelt among us. He did not remain detached, but entered into our mess, fully engaged with those he lived among. In his engagement, he confirmed for us that things aren’t they way they are supposed to be by his making whole human bodies that were broken, even displaying his power over the fate that awaits all of us, death itself.

And then, startingly, he went on trial, taking the finger of accusation that we point against God, even as he had done no wrong. He experienced injustice, pain, abuse, abandonment, humiliation and death. He not only absorbed the consequences and effects of evil and suffering, but he did so for us. Instead of our being included in the eradication of evil and suffering, it is Jesus who takes the evil and suffering and is eradicated. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Does God not care? In the face of evil, is it the case that a God who is good and loving cannot exist? More than giving us an answer, God gives us himself. Jesus Christ, who is all-powerful, surrenders all power in order to rescue and restore. By accepting humanity’s verdict that he is not good and not true and deserving of death, he exposes it for its inexcusable irrationality, thus setting us free from our enslavement to it.

I want to be clear here that the purpose of my writing is not to win an argument for “my” religion; or in having those who are not religious become so. I write as a fellow human being seeing and experiencing the same world as all of you and grappling with it. As I’ve already stated, I think the “problem of evil” compels certain conclusions about the nature of reality, different from those who commonly point to evil as “the problem.” In presenting Jesus as “the answer” to the problem, I hope it is clear by now that I do not offer him as one of a group of really important religious figures, along with Muhammed, Buddha, etc., who are all pretty much the same. I write about Jesus, as he has been given to us in the documents preserved for us in the New Testament, who made claims that the other prominent religious figures in history do not make – that he is God himself who has come to “seek and save that which is lost.” He does not only say, as all the others do, “here is teaching about God or about how to be good, follow it," though, he does, of course, teach profoundly. He says “come unto me, follow me, know me, trust in me, for in me is the life that is truly life.” I realize that in 2000 years, up to the present, the name of Jesus, the 1st century son of Israel, carries with it connotations, unrelated to who he is and what he did. I hope you consider setting those aside in thinking about what’s been presented; for it is intended as the pronouncement of genuine hope, not based on wishful thinking or sentiment, but firmly grounded in events that actually took place.

Church-State, etc

Recently, a conservative commentator lamented the overtly religious underpinnings and expressions used to support positions concerning government and public policy. here. This set off a considerable amount of debate on a number of websites.

It's probably the case that if you were to talk to 15 Christians, you would get 15 perspectives as to how to negotiate the "church-state" terrain. My opinion, being mine, is, of course, the most subtle, nuanced, complex and insightful of any such perspectives (he said with all "modesty.")

To a great extent, I understand McDonald's frustrations. She is a person whose educational and social settings probably did not include religious vocabulary and phrasing in the course of discussion concerning public events or issues. As a manner of communication, such vocabulary probably made sense in a time in our history when the vernacular of the Bible may have been familiar to the populace on the whole, regardless of their particular beliefs (this is not an argument about the U.S. being a "Christian" nation or about how many times George Washington went to church). Today and for the past several decades, this approach adopts the language and understanding of a subculture and attempts to employ it in communication to society on the whole. In so doing, not only is there a failure to communicate, but, as in McDonald's case, a resentment is fostered.

Of course, I recognize the profoundly significant role religiously rooted movements have played in our nation's history. Also, I certainly do not begrudge my fellow citizens' right to express themselves in a manner they deem most fitting. However, in some respects, in our current cultural climate, I think this is poor theology. We share a common human nature and inhabit the same reality. Our primary method of interaction is through a shared language. Therefore, in discussing goings on within this shared reality, I should be able to speak in a manner that is accessible to its fellow inhabitants. From a theological standpoint, this is the realm of creation, which is common to all and subject to investigation through experience and reason. There are truths concerning the creation that are or should be evident to those who don't acknowledge the One who brought it into existence.

None of this is to say that God's existence is not evident through creation, or is simply a matter of "belief," in opposition to reason. As those who are not self-created, self-existent, self-sustaining beings, we are the products of a reality that precedes us. We, who are dependent and derivative, are personal, moral beings necessarily derived from a personal and moral reality, namely God.

At the same time, statements concerning God in general, such as those some consider "safe" in our public discourse, are merely religious sentiment. A general God is opaque and impenetrable. Christian proclamation states that he did not remain unreachable and distant, but that he came down. In speaking of the God who creates and commands, we are also referring to the God whose devotion to his creation extended to his coming down to become a human being.

Yet, this also does not mean that I consider beliefs concerning Jesus Christ to be merely private. From the beginning, Christians proclaimed the events concerning Jesus as public events subject to investigation. Furthermore, the Christian confession is "Jesus is Lord," meaning he is the one who reigns over all reality, which is subject to him. At the same time, the church proclaims that Jesus is the one who gave up all power and died in order to rescue and transform this fallen and broken world and we, its fallen and broken residents. Thus, those who claim and confess that Jesus is Lord and profess his salvation and renewal of our world ought only to advance these claims in the same manner Jesus brought about his salvation, without any force or manipulation, and certainly not by recourse to the coercive power of the state.

In general, I think the tensions that exist in the views I advance are best worked out in a setting where the state's capacity and functions are limited, and are not a vehicle or proxy for a vision of a moral or good society. I realize that any law will reflect a moral judgment. My point is that which we consider good should not necessarily be deemed the proper subject of legislation or government action.

If you read McDonald's piece, you noticed that she not only spoke about the role of religion in government, but she also expressed the presence of evil in the world as the basis for her disbelief in an all-powerful, all-good God - the classic "problem of evil." I hope to write about this some time soon.