A few weeks ago I proposed a conversation about Ecclesiastes. It never really took off, but the topic has never been far from my mind. Now I’d like to re-propose. Read the book, and I assure you that you will be confused beyond repair. Let’s join together to vent about this frustrating, vague and contradictory book.
It’s hard to pinpoint what it is about Ecclesiastes that I find so irritating. Perhaps it’s the repeated use of the phrase “under the sun” (I realize it was a stylistic choice of the author, and much is likely lost in translation, but in English it sounds like a highly contrived and trite literary device). Really, the style of the book as a whole is a little mind numbing. At times it seems that the same phrase is being repeated on a loop. Yadda yadda yadda is folly…blah blah is chasing after the wind.
More likely, my annoyance lies in the fact that for the past 2 weeks my obsessive compulsive personality has been entrenched in the dualism and internal illogicality that Ecclesiastes has to offer. Seeking pleasure is meaningless (2:1-11), wisdom (1:18) and folly are both meaningless (2:12-16), toil is meaningless (2:17-19), advancement is meaningless (4:13-16), and riches are meaningless (5:10).
But then we get to chapter 3 (and even the end of chapter 2): “A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God” (2:24, this point is stated again in 3:22). A man can do nothing better than to find satisfaction in his work? I thought we already covered the fact that toil and pleasure are meaningless. 7:11 says “Wisdom, like an inheritance, is a good thing and benefits those who see the sun,” but wisdom is meaningless. Riches are meaningless, but 10:19 says: “A feast is made for laughter, and wine makes life merry, but money is the answer for everything.”
So what’s the point of this book? Or to ask the philosophical question: if this book holds any truth, what’s the point of life? If anything we can possibly work towards in the physical world is “chasing after the wind,” if any pursuit or gain is meaningless, what are we to do? If striving for wisdom leads only to grief, if our work is destined to be forgotten and the fruits of our labor fated to rot away, does purpose really exist?
On the surface Ecclesiastes seems to offer an answer: “A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work.” But for whom is this enough? If we see and understand that we are merely pawns, destined to return to the dust from which we came, what is our daily motivation? If we can’t accomplish anything that hasn’t already been done, why even try?
Maybe it’s so damned frustrating because it’s so true.
Thoughts?
Thanks for reading.
On a side note: Peter Jackson and New Line have ended their dispute over proceeds from LOTR, and he has agreed to become actively involved in the production of The Hobbit. http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/19/movies/19jack.html?th&emc=th
The good news: PJ will executive produce, meaning he will have approval rights on all creative elements.
The bad news: he won’t be writing the script or directing the film.
And, if you read the NY Times article, what’s this about a sequel to The Hobbit (supposedly spanning the 60 years after the Hobbit and before LOTR)? When they inevitably screw this up, I hope Tolkien rises from the grave to seek bloody revenge.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
The Non-Theist's Quandary: The Finale
Greetings, Zizzle-Zotians. I’d like to thank you all once again for the conversation we’ve been having. For me, the posts and ensuing discussions have provided a tremendous opportunity to reconsider my belief in a higher power, to analyze my reasoning for said belief, and to organize my thoughts in support of this belief. My hope is that everyone reading also took advantage of the debate to delve deeper into their own belief systems.
The thing I love about the blog format in general, and specifically about the blogosphere we’ve established for ourselves on Zizzle-Zot, etc., is that it’s a completely open forum. We’ve created a community of trust and respect, inviting all to honestly share their ideas and worldviews with other deeply thoughtful, Truth-seeking philosophers, scholars, and intellectuals (and I don’t hesitate when giving us those titles – just look at the discussions we’ve fostered).
As a result, we’ve been able to come together from varying walks of life to challenge each other, to look closer at the big issues and in turn, continue to make ourselves better people.
Truth be told, I could write an infinite number of continuations to The Non-Theists Quandary (okay, that’s a lie – I don’t believe in infinity as it applies to the physical world), and never come close to proof. For every essay I would write a scholar much smarter and more learned than I could write a rebuttal. Poking holes in the non-theist’s faith will never succeed in definitively proving my own, nor will the non-theist poking holes in my faith cause me to apostatize.
My aim was to present some convincing challenges to the non-theist belief system as a way to spark dialogue. For some of us, this was helpful in reaffirming our ideas. Some of us took the opportunity to play devil’s advocate on a few issues. Some of us outright disagreed on certain theories. Any one of these reactions is beneficial in forcing us to confront what we claim to believe and digging in to find out why.
And maybe, though I realize that no non-theists read this blog (at least none that I know of) and I don’t imagine our conversation would be quite enough to shift any paradigms, maybe it would challenge a non-theist to take another look, as we have.
I say with some confidence (and simultaneously trepidation) that definitive proof for or against the existence of a higher power will never be found (at least not in our lifetime). To believe requires a leap.
Whenever I look up at the stars I feel in my gut an overwhelming sense of both awesome power and comfort. We live in an unimaginably vast universe full of galaxies, planets, stars, asteroids, and black holes. Yet we are here. For no reason at all, we’re here, and we have the power to reason, to love, to create. To feel hope, pain, joy, reverence. In my mind, it doesn’t make sense unless we were intentionally put here.
In the end, faith must be blind. We all must find our own reasons to have faith, or not to. I know what I believe. It isn’t scientific. I’ve never seen it, heard it, touched it. But I believe in it. And that’s Truth for me.
Thanks for reading.
The thing I love about the blog format in general, and specifically about the blogosphere we’ve established for ourselves on Zizzle-Zot, etc., is that it’s a completely open forum. We’ve created a community of trust and respect, inviting all to honestly share their ideas and worldviews with other deeply thoughtful, Truth-seeking philosophers, scholars, and intellectuals (and I don’t hesitate when giving us those titles – just look at the discussions we’ve fostered).
As a result, we’ve been able to come together from varying walks of life to challenge each other, to look closer at the big issues and in turn, continue to make ourselves better people.
Truth be told, I could write an infinite number of continuations to The Non-Theists Quandary (okay, that’s a lie – I don’t believe in infinity as it applies to the physical world), and never come close to proof. For every essay I would write a scholar much smarter and more learned than I could write a rebuttal. Poking holes in the non-theist’s faith will never succeed in definitively proving my own, nor will the non-theist poking holes in my faith cause me to apostatize.
My aim was to present some convincing challenges to the non-theist belief system as a way to spark dialogue. For some of us, this was helpful in reaffirming our ideas. Some of us took the opportunity to play devil’s advocate on a few issues. Some of us outright disagreed on certain theories. Any one of these reactions is beneficial in forcing us to confront what we claim to believe and digging in to find out why.
And maybe, though I realize that no non-theists read this blog (at least none that I know of) and I don’t imagine our conversation would be quite enough to shift any paradigms, maybe it would challenge a non-theist to take another look, as we have.
I say with some confidence (and simultaneously trepidation) that definitive proof for or against the existence of a higher power will never be found (at least not in our lifetime). To believe requires a leap.
Whenever I look up at the stars I feel in my gut an overwhelming sense of both awesome power and comfort. We live in an unimaginably vast universe full of galaxies, planets, stars, asteroids, and black holes. Yet we are here. For no reason at all, we’re here, and we have the power to reason, to love, to create. To feel hope, pain, joy, reverence. In my mind, it doesn’t make sense unless we were intentionally put here.
In the end, faith must be blind. We all must find our own reasons to have faith, or not to. I know what I believe. It isn’t scientific. I’ve never seen it, heard it, touched it. But I believe in it. And that’s Truth for me.
Thanks for reading.
Monday, October 22, 2007
The Non-Theist's Quandary Part 3: The Origins of Morality
Thanks again everyone for the great comments. Ideas are percolating, dialogue is brewing…Is it time for a coffee?
A quick response to the last couple of comments before moving on to today’s topic: Mr. Antagonist, there is no doubt in my mind that someone could very convincingly challenge everything I’m saying. I’m not an expert on these issues by any means (I barely pass as competent – sorry to burst anyone’s bubble).
I agree with you that science and religion are not inherent enemies. The problem, in my eyes, is that everyone is too damn reactionary to be reasonable. I agree with P Corcs that there are scientists pushing evolution because of an atheistic agenda, just as there are Christians pushing creationism because of a religious agenda. Often, when these two sides butt heads, logic and reason are lost.
Scientists desperate to disprove religion manifest new ideas, many of which are themselves illegitimized years later (we’re too young for this, but how about the “Big Chill” of the ‘70s? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_cooling)
As P Corcs pointed out, blindly believing in unproven scientific precepts requires an enormous amount of faith and is still religion; just religion by a different name. This becomes a problem when the weight of “science” is thrown behind a theory and given the authority of “fact.”
Christian fundamentalists then react by declaring all science to be hogwash, and not conceding any science as fact (looking like buffoons in the process) In reality, whether you believe in evolution, a Grand Creator, or any combination of both, it’s impossible to deny science (and it would be preposterously ignorant to try).
Alright, moving on to today’s topic…
The third question the non-theist can’t answer deals with ethics. Seemingly, every person is born with a conscience, a sense of right and wrong.
The non-theist would account for the conscience as being one of two things. The first option is individual relativism, which is the theory that each individual sets moral standards for him/herself. This idea, however, doesn’t account for the similarities in the moral standards from person to person. We may claim that our individual standards differ (convenient when justifying poor behavior), but we still have what is known as a “judicious sentiment.” This means that even if we claim to have lower individual moral standards, we still hold others up to a higher set. According to C.S. Lewis, this is unavoidable and undeniable. He says in his book Mere Christianity:
“Whenever you find a man who says he does not believe in a real Right and Wrong, you will find the same man going back on this a moment later. He may break his promise to you, but if you try breaking one to him he will be complaining “It’s not fair” before you can say Jack Robinson…Have [cultural relativists] not let the cat out of the bag and shown that, whatever they say, they really know the Law of Nature just like everyone else?”
The other option for the non-theist is to claim that cultural relativism is the foundation of morality. This too is an inadequate explanation because every culture has a similar base set of moral standards. Again I’ll refer to C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity:
“Think of a country where people were admired for running away in battle, or where a man felt proud of doublecrossing all the people who had been kindest to him. You might just as well try to imagine a country where two and two made five.”
Relativism is not a sufficient explanation for morality because it is simply not applicable to real life. Imagine the Nazi’s had won World War II. They went on to kill any opposition, so by the time they were finished everyone in the culture believed that killing Jews was a virtuous action. Could the non-theist then claim that murder is virtuous? Wouldn’t the killing of Jews still be abhorrent, in spite of the cultural assertion that it’s the greatest good?
Also, in a relativistic mindset moral progress is impossible because changing current moral standards is always wrong at the time of the overthrow. This means that a non-theist, in maintaining relativity, would oppose abolitionism, the Civil Rights Movement, child labor laws, the overthrow of oppressive or genocidal governments, even the American Revolution.
This leaves us with the question of where our moral standards come from. What prevents humanity, as a whole, from being completely self-absorbed; from becoming an anarchy of greedy, murderous wretches consumed by the individualistic pursuit of power?
For me, the only conceivable answer is that they were instilled in us by a Grand Organizer, a Creator. I believe that, more than any other of the arguments I have made, this inherent morality points to the existence of an involved, intervening higher-power: A force that has a personal interest in our actions, our well-being, our survival, and perhaps…dare I say…our souls.
Thanks for reading.
A quick response to the last couple of comments before moving on to today’s topic: Mr. Antagonist, there is no doubt in my mind that someone could very convincingly challenge everything I’m saying. I’m not an expert on these issues by any means (I barely pass as competent – sorry to burst anyone’s bubble).
I agree with you that science and religion are not inherent enemies. The problem, in my eyes, is that everyone is too damn reactionary to be reasonable. I agree with P Corcs that there are scientists pushing evolution because of an atheistic agenda, just as there are Christians pushing creationism because of a religious agenda. Often, when these two sides butt heads, logic and reason are lost.
Scientists desperate to disprove religion manifest new ideas, many of which are themselves illegitimized years later (we’re too young for this, but how about the “Big Chill” of the ‘70s? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_cooling)
As P Corcs pointed out, blindly believing in unproven scientific precepts requires an enormous amount of faith and is still religion; just religion by a different name. This becomes a problem when the weight of “science” is thrown behind a theory and given the authority of “fact.”
Christian fundamentalists then react by declaring all science to be hogwash, and not conceding any science as fact (looking like buffoons in the process) In reality, whether you believe in evolution, a Grand Creator, or any combination of both, it’s impossible to deny science (and it would be preposterously ignorant to try).
Alright, moving on to today’s topic…
The third question the non-theist can’t answer deals with ethics. Seemingly, every person is born with a conscience, a sense of right and wrong.
The non-theist would account for the conscience as being one of two things. The first option is individual relativism, which is the theory that each individual sets moral standards for him/herself. This idea, however, doesn’t account for the similarities in the moral standards from person to person. We may claim that our individual standards differ (convenient when justifying poor behavior), but we still have what is known as a “judicious sentiment.” This means that even if we claim to have lower individual moral standards, we still hold others up to a higher set. According to C.S. Lewis, this is unavoidable and undeniable. He says in his book Mere Christianity:
“Whenever you find a man who says he does not believe in a real Right and Wrong, you will find the same man going back on this a moment later. He may break his promise to you, but if you try breaking one to him he will be complaining “It’s not fair” before you can say Jack Robinson…Have [cultural relativists] not let the cat out of the bag and shown that, whatever they say, they really know the Law of Nature just like everyone else?”
The other option for the non-theist is to claim that cultural relativism is the foundation of morality. This too is an inadequate explanation because every culture has a similar base set of moral standards. Again I’ll refer to C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity:
“Think of a country where people were admired for running away in battle, or where a man felt proud of doublecrossing all the people who had been kindest to him. You might just as well try to imagine a country where two and two made five.”
Relativism is not a sufficient explanation for morality because it is simply not applicable to real life. Imagine the Nazi’s had won World War II. They went on to kill any opposition, so by the time they were finished everyone in the culture believed that killing Jews was a virtuous action. Could the non-theist then claim that murder is virtuous? Wouldn’t the killing of Jews still be abhorrent, in spite of the cultural assertion that it’s the greatest good?
Also, in a relativistic mindset moral progress is impossible because changing current moral standards is always wrong at the time of the overthrow. This means that a non-theist, in maintaining relativity, would oppose abolitionism, the Civil Rights Movement, child labor laws, the overthrow of oppressive or genocidal governments, even the American Revolution.
This leaves us with the question of where our moral standards come from. What prevents humanity, as a whole, from being completely self-absorbed; from becoming an anarchy of greedy, murderous wretches consumed by the individualistic pursuit of power?
For me, the only conceivable answer is that they were instilled in us by a Grand Organizer, a Creator. I believe that, more than any other of the arguments I have made, this inherent morality points to the existence of an involved, intervening higher-power: A force that has a personal interest in our actions, our well-being, our survival, and perhaps…dare I say…our souls.
Thanks for reading.
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Non-Theist's Quandary Part 2: The Origins of Life
It was great to read everyone’s comments on yesterday’s post. I love hearing the personal stories on this issue, and look forward to the ongoing discussion.
Cassel, thanks for the perspective on Biblical interpretation. It’s nice to have the thoughts of an aspiring theologian who is studying the Bible in a scholarly way.
Mr. Antagonist, you’re correct to point out that establishing the existence of a higher power doesn’t prove the existence of an intervening God. I find that this is the hardest leap to make, and don’t claim to have it figured out just yet. I probably never will…
Picking up where we left off yesterday:
The second question that the non-theist can’t answer regards the origins of human life. Human beings are extraordinarily complex entities, and the odds of such a complex organism just “appearing” are astronomical.
So where did we come from?
The naturalist will try to explain this problem away with the “Neo-Darwinian Synthesis.” This is the theory that during the formation of the earth there was a “primeval stew” which consisted of the numerous simple compounds that are essential to life. Through light flashes and other energy sources these compounds randomly blended to form the enzymes needed for life to form and evolve.
Fred Hoyle and N.C. Wickramasinghe, two renowned astronomers, did an in-depth study into this theory and found that the odds of events happening the way Neo-Darwinists say they did is 1 in 10^40,000. This number, they claim, is “exceedingly minute, to a point where it is insensibly different from zero.” Perfect conditions, chance events, flawless timing. The numbers say this is nearly impossible. So who’s being illogical?
As a result of these experiments, Hoyle and Wickramasinghe concluded that there must be a super intelligence, something ordering the universe.
Next, take a look at the human body. Its mechanics are so incredibly perfect that I think it would be a logical leap to say it formed and evolved randomly. L. Stafford Betty and Bruce Cordell expound upon this in an essay titled “The Anthropic Teleological Argument.” I won’t delve too far into the argument here (Google it if you’re interested), but their hypothesis asserted that human life is far too complex to have come into existence by chance, and our creation was ordered by a “Grand Universal Theory.” In the words of Voltaire: “If a watch proves the existence of a watchmaker but the universe does not prove the existence of a great Architect, then I consent to be called a fool.” There must have been some super-intelligent, grand designer behind it all. What else explains human life?
Our bodies are extremely fickle, and cannot sustain in drastic conditions. If the earth was colder or warmer, if the atmosphere was made of different compounds, if there was less or more water, humans couldn’t survive. Earth was given the perfect parameters for life to develop. How?
Betty and Cordell note that it is interesting that the “God of the gaps” theory has been turned around. It seems, from the mathematical odds stacked against naturalistic theories on the formation of life, that it is actually “science of the gaps.” We have discussed this before, but to reiterate: Christians are often accused of starting at a predetermined conclusion and molding evidence to fit said conclusion (a crime we are admittedly often guilty of.) But it would appear that in this instance, in studies on the origins of human life (a highly scientific field), scientists have started with the conclusion that there is no Creator, have ignored mountains of mathematical probability and evidence, and have manipulated science to confirm their theories. They have turned their backs on the objectivism which they claim to so rigorously uphold.
Think about the mathematical and logical stretch it takes to believe that life formed and evolved through natural forces. To do so is to believe in a virtually impossible event, and then to believe that this virtually impossible event happened over and over again until the result was a perfectly formed creation capable of advanced thought and reasoning.
Wow.
Call me crazy (or illogical), but I’ll stick with a Creator. Part three on Monday…
Thanks for reading.
Cassel, thanks for the perspective on Biblical interpretation. It’s nice to have the thoughts of an aspiring theologian who is studying the Bible in a scholarly way.
Mr. Antagonist, you’re correct to point out that establishing the existence of a higher power doesn’t prove the existence of an intervening God. I find that this is the hardest leap to make, and don’t claim to have it figured out just yet. I probably never will…
Picking up where we left off yesterday:
The second question that the non-theist can’t answer regards the origins of human life. Human beings are extraordinarily complex entities, and the odds of such a complex organism just “appearing” are astronomical.
So where did we come from?
The naturalist will try to explain this problem away with the “Neo-Darwinian Synthesis.” This is the theory that during the formation of the earth there was a “primeval stew” which consisted of the numerous simple compounds that are essential to life. Through light flashes and other energy sources these compounds randomly blended to form the enzymes needed for life to form and evolve.
Fred Hoyle and N.C. Wickramasinghe, two renowned astronomers, did an in-depth study into this theory and found that the odds of events happening the way Neo-Darwinists say they did is 1 in 10^40,000. This number, they claim, is “exceedingly minute, to a point where it is insensibly different from zero.” Perfect conditions, chance events, flawless timing. The numbers say this is nearly impossible. So who’s being illogical?
As a result of these experiments, Hoyle and Wickramasinghe concluded that there must be a super intelligence, something ordering the universe.
Next, take a look at the human body. Its mechanics are so incredibly perfect that I think it would be a logical leap to say it formed and evolved randomly. L. Stafford Betty and Bruce Cordell expound upon this in an essay titled “The Anthropic Teleological Argument.” I won’t delve too far into the argument here (Google it if you’re interested), but their hypothesis asserted that human life is far too complex to have come into existence by chance, and our creation was ordered by a “Grand Universal Theory.” In the words of Voltaire: “If a watch proves the existence of a watchmaker but the universe does not prove the existence of a great Architect, then I consent to be called a fool.” There must have been some super-intelligent, grand designer behind it all. What else explains human life?
Our bodies are extremely fickle, and cannot sustain in drastic conditions. If the earth was colder or warmer, if the atmosphere was made of different compounds, if there was less or more water, humans couldn’t survive. Earth was given the perfect parameters for life to develop. How?
Betty and Cordell note that it is interesting that the “God of the gaps” theory has been turned around. It seems, from the mathematical odds stacked against naturalistic theories on the formation of life, that it is actually “science of the gaps.” We have discussed this before, but to reiterate: Christians are often accused of starting at a predetermined conclusion and molding evidence to fit said conclusion (a crime we are admittedly often guilty of.) But it would appear that in this instance, in studies on the origins of human life (a highly scientific field), scientists have started with the conclusion that there is no Creator, have ignored mountains of mathematical probability and evidence, and have manipulated science to confirm their theories. They have turned their backs on the objectivism which they claim to so rigorously uphold.
Think about the mathematical and logical stretch it takes to believe that life formed and evolved through natural forces. To do so is to believe in a virtually impossible event, and then to believe that this virtually impossible event happened over and over again until the result was a perfectly formed creation capable of advanced thought and reasoning.
Wow.
Call me crazy (or illogical), but I’ll stick with a Creator. Part three on Monday…
Thanks for reading.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Non-Theist’s Quandary Part 1: The Origins of the Universe
I believe in God. I’m mystified by the form and personhood this God may embody and suspect that nobody has it quite right, but in a world that seems to drift further and further away from faith as it embraces science and cultural relativism, I believe that we were created and placed on earth by a higher power. I admit that such a concept is un-provable, and some may call it improbable, but this will not sway me into disbelief. Does that make me unreasonable? I don’t think so.
For me, there are three questions that the non-theist simply cannot answer. These questions are so condemning, so impossible to ignore, that they provide enough evidence for me to believe in the existence of God and establish the necessity of a higher power as an absolute. The first is the cosmological question. Where did matter, and the universe, come from? The second is teleological. Where did human life come from? The third is ethical. If there is no God, why be morally good?
Over the course of the next three days, I’ll address these questions in order.
The first question, the question of where matter came from, has been answered in two different ways by the non-theist. One option that has been proposed is that matter came into existence from nothing. Paul Davies, in his essay “A Naturalistic Account of the Universe,” further expounds this theory. He claims that before the universe came into existence, a great quantum vacuum filled with an enormous amount of energy existed. This energy was created by the repulsive forces working against each other in the vacuum. Eventually, too much energy was created for the vacuum to contain, and thus the “big bang.”
The problem with this argument is that it flies in the face of science. So many rules that scientists hold as immutable must be ignored that I can’t believe that any respectable scientist would buy into the theory. First, we have to assume that at the time of the creation of the universe the law of conservation of energy didn’t apply. This law states that energy can’t be created or destroyed. Once we get past this we still have absolutely no evidence or basis to believe that a great quantum vacuum would just come into existence.
Davies answers this by pointing to the world of quantum physics, where particles behave unpredictably. I’ll grant him this, as I have no reason not to, but I can also say that the realm of science has never seen erratic particles form a great quantum vacuum. If they did it would seem they were actually quite uniform. To continue down this logical thread, erratic particles performing in a uniform fashion would actually seem quite miraculous, and in turn land outside the realm of rational science that Mr. Davies has based his theory upon. Also, if this does explain the origin of the universe, what explains the origin of the particles? Davies does not answer any questions; he just takes the argument one step further down the chain.
The second way that the non-theist has attempted to explain this problem away is by asserting that the universe has always existed. There are three reasons why this could not be the case.
The first is that big bang research (a scientific endeavor) has shown that there was an absolute beginning to the universe as we know it. J.P. Moreland, in his “Kalam Cosmological Argument,” offers us an important feature of the big bang theory: “The universe as we know it began from a large explosion some fifteen billion years ago and has continued to expand ever since.”
The second flaw in claiming that the universe has always existed is that the 2nd law of thermodynamics states that energy in a closed system dissipates over time. This law, accepted by all scientists, maintains that we are continuously moving towards a time when the energy will simply run out. If the universe has always existed, realistically we A) would have run out of energy by now (which we have not), or B) will never run out of energy (which is a scientifically illogical).
It boils down to the problem of infinity, which leads to my third point.
The third proof that the universe has not always existed (which would mean the universe is infinite) is that an actual infinite in the real world is an impossibility, and if there were an infinite, it could not be traversed (I’ll get to this).
The first point, the existence of an actual infinite, presents us with a logical paradox. Philosopher Bertrand Russell offered a good example with his use of Tristam Shandy, the infinite author. Tristam sets out to write his autobiography, but it takes him a year to finish writing about one day of his life. If he lived to infinity, he would have no trouble finishing his book, because he would have infinite years to write. At the same time, he could never finish because each day he would get further behind. He could never finish, but he would never not finish.
The second point to this argument, that it is impossible to traverse an infinite, is basically saying that if the universe exists on an infinite timeline it would be impossible to place anything on that timeline. Let’s say that the universe has existed for infinite years, then how long have humans existed? For half that time? This would still be infinity on an infinite timeline, meaning that humans have also existed for infinite years, which we know we have not (and if we have, one would think we’d be much more advanced). When were you born on an infinite timeline? No matter where you place yourself, you would be infinite years old. Are you infinity? Speaking for myself, I would hope that if I were infinite years old I would be a hell of a lot smarter. Then maybe I would just know the answers, making this essay completely unnecessary.
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the origins of human life. Till then…
Thanks for reading.
For me, there are three questions that the non-theist simply cannot answer. These questions are so condemning, so impossible to ignore, that they provide enough evidence for me to believe in the existence of God and establish the necessity of a higher power as an absolute. The first is the cosmological question. Where did matter, and the universe, come from? The second is teleological. Where did human life come from? The third is ethical. If there is no God, why be morally good?
Over the course of the next three days, I’ll address these questions in order.
The first question, the question of where matter came from, has been answered in two different ways by the non-theist. One option that has been proposed is that matter came into existence from nothing. Paul Davies, in his essay “A Naturalistic Account of the Universe,” further expounds this theory. He claims that before the universe came into existence, a great quantum vacuum filled with an enormous amount of energy existed. This energy was created by the repulsive forces working against each other in the vacuum. Eventually, too much energy was created for the vacuum to contain, and thus the “big bang.”
The problem with this argument is that it flies in the face of science. So many rules that scientists hold as immutable must be ignored that I can’t believe that any respectable scientist would buy into the theory. First, we have to assume that at the time of the creation of the universe the law of conservation of energy didn’t apply. This law states that energy can’t be created or destroyed. Once we get past this we still have absolutely no evidence or basis to believe that a great quantum vacuum would just come into existence.
Davies answers this by pointing to the world of quantum physics, where particles behave unpredictably. I’ll grant him this, as I have no reason not to, but I can also say that the realm of science has never seen erratic particles form a great quantum vacuum. If they did it would seem they were actually quite uniform. To continue down this logical thread, erratic particles performing in a uniform fashion would actually seem quite miraculous, and in turn land outside the realm of rational science that Mr. Davies has based his theory upon. Also, if this does explain the origin of the universe, what explains the origin of the particles? Davies does not answer any questions; he just takes the argument one step further down the chain.
The second way that the non-theist has attempted to explain this problem away is by asserting that the universe has always existed. There are three reasons why this could not be the case.
The first is that big bang research (a scientific endeavor) has shown that there was an absolute beginning to the universe as we know it. J.P. Moreland, in his “Kalam Cosmological Argument,” offers us an important feature of the big bang theory: “The universe as we know it began from a large explosion some fifteen billion years ago and has continued to expand ever since.”
The second flaw in claiming that the universe has always existed is that the 2nd law of thermodynamics states that energy in a closed system dissipates over time. This law, accepted by all scientists, maintains that we are continuously moving towards a time when the energy will simply run out. If the universe has always existed, realistically we A) would have run out of energy by now (which we have not), or B) will never run out of energy (which is a scientifically illogical).
It boils down to the problem of infinity, which leads to my third point.
The third proof that the universe has not always existed (which would mean the universe is infinite) is that an actual infinite in the real world is an impossibility, and if there were an infinite, it could not be traversed (I’ll get to this).
The first point, the existence of an actual infinite, presents us with a logical paradox. Philosopher Bertrand Russell offered a good example with his use of Tristam Shandy, the infinite author. Tristam sets out to write his autobiography, but it takes him a year to finish writing about one day of his life. If he lived to infinity, he would have no trouble finishing his book, because he would have infinite years to write. At the same time, he could never finish because each day he would get further behind. He could never finish, but he would never not finish.
The second point to this argument, that it is impossible to traverse an infinite, is basically saying that if the universe exists on an infinite timeline it would be impossible to place anything on that timeline. Let’s say that the universe has existed for infinite years, then how long have humans existed? For half that time? This would still be infinity on an infinite timeline, meaning that humans have also existed for infinite years, which we know we have not (and if we have, one would think we’d be much more advanced). When were you born on an infinite timeline? No matter where you place yourself, you would be infinite years old. Are you infinity? Speaking for myself, I would hope that if I were infinite years old I would be a hell of a lot smarter. Then maybe I would just know the answers, making this essay completely unnecessary.
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the origins of human life. Till then…
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Non-Theist's Quandary: An Introduction
As a number of you are already aware, a new voice known as Mr. Antagonist has popped up in our little blogosphere (check it out at: http://thomashelgen.blogspot.com/). The issues we have been dialoguing back and forth on have already proven juicy topics for debate, and have me thinking a little bit about why I believe in a higher power at all.
Over the next several days I will be posting excerpts from an essay I call “The Non-Theists Quandary.” Parts are compiled from essays I have written in the past, parts are newly added material.
What I hope to establish is that there is substantial evidence for the existence of a higher power (though I will not at this time attempt to definitively argue that this power is the Christian God), and that there are very important questions that a non-theist simply cannot provide viable answers to.
I realize no one has thus far explicitly denied the existence of a higher power. Nevertheless, I want to take this opportunity to lay a foundation. In any debate on faith or beliefs (such as the one at hand in which one side is arguing Agnosticism, the other Christianity) I feel it is vital to establish why one bothers to believe in anything at all.
From that groundwork, one can rationally establish why one has chosen the faith that one has, out of all the possibilities.
Of course this is just one small, initial step in the discussion. But I honestly believe that since the existence of a higher power is abundantly evident (as I hope to demonstrate), the responsibility falls on us to search for Truth. At times, this Truth will slap us over the head in an unmistakable, undeniable way. More often, it will be distant and vague, difficult to ascertain, and will require a lifetime of devotion with the potential risk of never reaching it.
Agnosticism troubles me. Many Agnostics seem to be waiting for something; waiting to be handed the answers. (This is a gross generalization. There are also many Agnostics ravenously searching for the truth) I don’t think this will ever happen. In the end, if one spends a lifetime waiting for ultimate Truth to land on the doorstep rather than actively pursuing it, one would have nobody to blame for never finding it.
Faith requires a risk, a leap. But since a higher power exists (as I believe), this is a risk worth taking.
To be continued…
Thanks for reading.
Over the next several days I will be posting excerpts from an essay I call “The Non-Theists Quandary.” Parts are compiled from essays I have written in the past, parts are newly added material.
What I hope to establish is that there is substantial evidence for the existence of a higher power (though I will not at this time attempt to definitively argue that this power is the Christian God), and that there are very important questions that a non-theist simply cannot provide viable answers to.
I realize no one has thus far explicitly denied the existence of a higher power. Nevertheless, I want to take this opportunity to lay a foundation. In any debate on faith or beliefs (such as the one at hand in which one side is arguing Agnosticism, the other Christianity) I feel it is vital to establish why one bothers to believe in anything at all.
From that groundwork, one can rationally establish why one has chosen the faith that one has, out of all the possibilities.
Of course this is just one small, initial step in the discussion. But I honestly believe that since the existence of a higher power is abundantly evident (as I hope to demonstrate), the responsibility falls on us to search for Truth. At times, this Truth will slap us over the head in an unmistakable, undeniable way. More often, it will be distant and vague, difficult to ascertain, and will require a lifetime of devotion with the potential risk of never reaching it.
Agnosticism troubles me. Many Agnostics seem to be waiting for something; waiting to be handed the answers. (This is a gross generalization. There are also many Agnostics ravenously searching for the truth) I don’t think this will ever happen. In the end, if one spends a lifetime waiting for ultimate Truth to land on the doorstep rather than actively pursuing it, one would have nobody to blame for never finding it.
Faith requires a risk, a leap. But since a higher power exists (as I believe), this is a risk worth taking.
To be continued…
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
More Thoughts on Pacifism
I’ve had a little more time to contemplate and all it has brought me is more confusion…What I have left to offer is my personal ethic as clearly as I can formulate and articulate it.
Very rarely could I be convinced that violence is the solution to any problem. Violence begets violence, and more often than not change brought about through violent means only serves to establish new pathways for violent acts. Just look at the current situation in Iraq, the countless violent coups throughout the histories of Asia, South America and Africa, or The Troubles of Northern Ireland.
These nation’s identities are rooted in a history of bloodshed and the minds of the people have become engrained with the paradigm that violence is the only means available to accomplish ends (this is also true of gang culture in the US).
That said, I don’t believe pacifism as an inflexible moral policy is feasible either. As Mr. Antagonist poignantly and aptly stated, it’s “a borderline criminal stance when confronted with genocide.” In response to a terrifying and destructive regime such as Nazi Germany, pacifism amounts to nothing more than apathy, which at its core is no better than condoning the atrocity.
Herein lies the trouble: my ethic walks a precarious line on which we entrust ourselves to determine right moral action. The problem is that A) we most often are only given bits and pieces of the larger story (whatever the media wants us to see), and therefore lack the complete information necessary to make educated decisions, B) as a species, we have proven ourselves time and again to be irredeemable fools, and C) my moral determinations have absolutely zero impact on the decisions of the country and its leadership.
The current situation in Iraq is a prime example. At the time of the invasion, the majority of America supported President Bush and his decision to go to war. At the time, we were told Saddam Hussein had vast supplies of WMD’s and was aiding Al Qaeda. Both of these points were later revealed to be false, but we had incomplete information. Very few people foresaw the chaotic civil war that became the result of the invasion. We should have, the signs were all there. Bitter sectarian divides, years of oppression, economic hardship. But we were foolish. And to complete the trifecta of point C, it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference had I been vocally opposed to the war at the outset.
I believe it’s nearly impossible to determine the “justness” of a war from the beginning. Only in retrospect will the full truth be revealed and will the consequences (good or bad) be realized
The “justness” of war is determined by posterity, not by its actors.
To go back to Mr. Antagonist’s statements, there are notable exceptions in cases of clear cut genocide (Nazi Germany), but in this regard we as Americans are enormously hypocritical. For all of our big talk about fighting “just wars,” we fail to act in most cases where mass murder has predetermined justness. Think of the countless examples of American indifference as hundreds of thousands of innocent people have been slaughtered across the globe. The Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. Darfur, Rwanda, Sudan, Uganda (do you want me to keep going with the African nations?) Murderous regimes in Latin and South America have been funded and trained by the CIA, for God’s sake.
We stood by and did nothing. Why? Because we had no invested interest. Because none of these nations had oil. Don’t tell me America is concerned about “just war.”
P Corcs, following Monday’s post you stated that “we need to take each situation as it is and react how we believe we should,” yet you also disagreed with my position that pacifism is more applicable to individuals than it is to a country. I’m having trouble understanding your stance. The problem is that “we” (as in you and I) have little control over the actions of our country (unfortunately…but maybe soon…).
Since I have no control over the decisions or actions of our leaders, it is possible (actually probable) that my ideas of morally right action in any given situation will not be in line with the governmental stance. Do you see the disconnect? We determine morality individually, and therefore it can’t be applied nationally (unless you want to get into groupthink – 1984 anyone?). To react in the manner that we believe we should, it’s absolutely necessary for tenets such as pacifism to be individualistic, and nearly impossible for them to be applied to a country.
Thoughts?
Tomorrow, I’ll be exercising pacifism by participating in an online protest with a group of bloggers around the world. The aim of the protest is to show support for the people of Burma. For those of you not familiar with the situation, a brutal military junta has been controlling the country and oppressing the people for years. Recently, protests lead by Buddhist monks took to the streets following an unexplained 500% increase in the price of gas, and the military has met their nonviolent resistant with unrestrained force; arresting, beating, and killing monks and citizens nationwide. To learn more, check out these links:
http://blogs.usatoday.com/ondeadline/2007/10/reports-4000-mo.html
http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,22515138-661,00.html
http://www.voanews.com/english/2007-10-02-voaburmaun.cfm
http://www2.free-burma.org/index.php
As part of this nonviolent protest, there will be no formal post tomorrow. In its place, I will be displaying one of the images created for the campaign. Visit Zizzle-Zot, etc to show your support.
Thanks for reading.
Very rarely could I be convinced that violence is the solution to any problem. Violence begets violence, and more often than not change brought about through violent means only serves to establish new pathways for violent acts. Just look at the current situation in Iraq, the countless violent coups throughout the histories of Asia, South America and Africa, or The Troubles of Northern Ireland.
These nation’s identities are rooted in a history of bloodshed and the minds of the people have become engrained with the paradigm that violence is the only means available to accomplish ends (this is also true of gang culture in the US).
That said, I don’t believe pacifism as an inflexible moral policy is feasible either. As Mr. Antagonist poignantly and aptly stated, it’s “a borderline criminal stance when confronted with genocide.” In response to a terrifying and destructive regime such as Nazi Germany, pacifism amounts to nothing more than apathy, which at its core is no better than condoning the atrocity.
Herein lies the trouble: my ethic walks a precarious line on which we entrust ourselves to determine right moral action. The problem is that A) we most often are only given bits and pieces of the larger story (whatever the media wants us to see), and therefore lack the complete information necessary to make educated decisions, B) as a species, we have proven ourselves time and again to be irredeemable fools, and C) my moral determinations have absolutely zero impact on the decisions of the country and its leadership.
The current situation in Iraq is a prime example. At the time of the invasion, the majority of America supported President Bush and his decision to go to war. At the time, we were told Saddam Hussein had vast supplies of WMD’s and was aiding Al Qaeda. Both of these points were later revealed to be false, but we had incomplete information. Very few people foresaw the chaotic civil war that became the result of the invasion. We should have, the signs were all there. Bitter sectarian divides, years of oppression, economic hardship. But we were foolish. And to complete the trifecta of point C, it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference had I been vocally opposed to the war at the outset.
I believe it’s nearly impossible to determine the “justness” of a war from the beginning. Only in retrospect will the full truth be revealed and will the consequences (good or bad) be realized
The “justness” of war is determined by posterity, not by its actors.
To go back to Mr. Antagonist’s statements, there are notable exceptions in cases of clear cut genocide (Nazi Germany), but in this regard we as Americans are enormously hypocritical. For all of our big talk about fighting “just wars,” we fail to act in most cases where mass murder has predetermined justness. Think of the countless examples of American indifference as hundreds of thousands of innocent people have been slaughtered across the globe. The Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. Darfur, Rwanda, Sudan, Uganda (do you want me to keep going with the African nations?) Murderous regimes in Latin and South America have been funded and trained by the CIA, for God’s sake.
We stood by and did nothing. Why? Because we had no invested interest. Because none of these nations had oil. Don’t tell me America is concerned about “just war.”
P Corcs, following Monday’s post you stated that “we need to take each situation as it is and react how we believe we should,” yet you also disagreed with my position that pacifism is more applicable to individuals than it is to a country. I’m having trouble understanding your stance. The problem is that “we” (as in you and I) have little control over the actions of our country (unfortunately…but maybe soon…).
Since I have no control over the decisions or actions of our leaders, it is possible (actually probable) that my ideas of morally right action in any given situation will not be in line with the governmental stance. Do you see the disconnect? We determine morality individually, and therefore it can’t be applied nationally (unless you want to get into groupthink – 1984 anyone?). To react in the manner that we believe we should, it’s absolutely necessary for tenets such as pacifism to be individualistic, and nearly impossible for them to be applied to a country.
Thoughts?
Tomorrow, I’ll be exercising pacifism by participating in an online protest with a group of bloggers around the world. The aim of the protest is to show support for the people of Burma. For those of you not familiar with the situation, a brutal military junta has been controlling the country and oppressing the people for years. Recently, protests lead by Buddhist monks took to the streets following an unexplained 500% increase in the price of gas, and the military has met their nonviolent resistant with unrestrained force; arresting, beating, and killing monks and citizens nationwide. To learn more, check out these links:
http://blogs.usatoday.com/ondeadline/2007/10/reports-4000-mo.html
http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,22515138-661,00.html
http://www.voanews.com/english/2007-10-02-voaburmaun.cfm
http://www2.free-burma.org/index.php
As part of this nonviolent protest, there will be no formal post tomorrow. In its place, I will be displaying one of the images created for the campaign. Visit Zizzle-Zot, etc to show your support.
Thanks for reading.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Christian Pacifism
The idea of Christian pacifism is a concept that has always troubled, confused, and therefore beguiled me. Late Night, we have briefly discussed the topic before, but more as a tangent than as the exclusive focal point of conversation. So I’ll follow your lead and do my best to spark some debate on the issue.
The argument for Christian pacifism in the face of violence and oppression is deeply rooted in Biblical teachings. In the passage LNC offered up (Romans 12: 17-21) the command is explicit: “Do not repay anyone evil for evil,” “Never avenge yourselves,” etc.
The instruction to avoid violence at all costs seems to me to be one of the most clearly stated, inarguable orders in the Bible. Yet, when I think about it logically, placing pragmatism and realism above blind faith, it also seems to be one of the most impractical.
As individuals it may be realistic to live a life of pacifism. But we live in the most powerful, influential nation in the world, and as such we (as a country) constantly face the threat of attack from groups that disagree with America’s ideology, democracy, culture, etc. America, as a nation, simply can’t afford to be pacifistic. This would be seen as a weakness and exploited.
The problem is that America loves to think of itself as a “Christian Nation,” and here we face the sticky issue of trying to merge faith and politics (a problem that extends far beyond the idea of pacifism and has resulted in some utterly mind boggling legislations).
My honest opinion is that faith, and biblical concepts such as pacifism, are personal and only work when applied on an individual basis. While it may be realistic for you and me to be pacifists, it would be absurd for a nation to disband its army and adopt pacifism (one of many reasons that the idea of a “Christian Nation” is rubbish).
Here we face another problem: the majority of this country claims itself to be Christian. If everyone claiming to be Christian became a pacifist, America would find it difficult to assemble an army. I’m not really sure what to do about this. (Maybe an army of robots?)
I foresee this conversation at some point landing on the concept of the “just war.” I apologize for this preemptive strike, but I maintain that the idea of a “just war” simply doesn’t work. More often than not, the “justness” of a conflict is determined by whichever group holds the power in that time and place. Posterity determines which wars were just, but due to emotions and immediate interests we lack the objective reasoning necessary to determine whether the use of violence is justified.
I look forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts.
Thanks for reading.
The argument for Christian pacifism in the face of violence and oppression is deeply rooted in Biblical teachings. In the passage LNC offered up (Romans 12: 17-21) the command is explicit: “Do not repay anyone evil for evil,” “Never avenge yourselves,” etc.
The instruction to avoid violence at all costs seems to me to be one of the most clearly stated, inarguable orders in the Bible. Yet, when I think about it logically, placing pragmatism and realism above blind faith, it also seems to be one of the most impractical.
As individuals it may be realistic to live a life of pacifism. But we live in the most powerful, influential nation in the world, and as such we (as a country) constantly face the threat of attack from groups that disagree with America’s ideology, democracy, culture, etc. America, as a nation, simply can’t afford to be pacifistic. This would be seen as a weakness and exploited.
The problem is that America loves to think of itself as a “Christian Nation,” and here we face the sticky issue of trying to merge faith and politics (a problem that extends far beyond the idea of pacifism and has resulted in some utterly mind boggling legislations).
My honest opinion is that faith, and biblical concepts such as pacifism, are personal and only work when applied on an individual basis. While it may be realistic for you and me to be pacifists, it would be absurd for a nation to disband its army and adopt pacifism (one of many reasons that the idea of a “Christian Nation” is rubbish).
Here we face another problem: the majority of this country claims itself to be Christian. If everyone claiming to be Christian became a pacifist, America would find it difficult to assemble an army. I’m not really sure what to do about this. (Maybe an army of robots?)
I foresee this conversation at some point landing on the concept of the “just war.” I apologize for this preemptive strike, but I maintain that the idea of a “just war” simply doesn’t work. More often than not, the “justness” of a conflict is determined by whichever group holds the power in that time and place. Posterity determines which wars were just, but due to emotions and immediate interests we lack the objective reasoning necessary to determine whether the use of violence is justified.
I look forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts.
Thanks for reading.
Friday, September 21, 2007
A Moral Test: Would We Pass?
I’m shocked and amazed, Zizzle-Zotians. Yesterday’s post garnered 11 comments, which I’m pretty sure is a new record. Good work.
I had originally planned a humorous little article today, a playful jab at the entertainment industry, but it will have to wait. As I read through the discussion on yesterday’s post I see some fascinating ideas, and would really like to keep the conversation going. So if you all don’t mind…
First off, welcome to Zizzle-Zot, etc., Mr. Antagonist. It’s always good to hear a new voice and a different perspective, and you have thus far been a great addition to the blog (any guesses to Mr. Antagonist’s real identity? I have no idea.)
P Corcs, thanks for initially bringing some historical perspective on the plight of the German people leading up to the rise of the Nazi Party. It’s really important to keep this perspective in mind when we are trying to understand how people could let anything like the Holocaust happen.
I'm familiar with the Milgram experiment that Mr. Antagonist mentioned. It demonstrates an interesting side of the human character. Another one to look at is the Stanford Prison Experiment: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_prison_experiment. Tests like these shows that normal, “good” people, put in certain circumstances, will to some extent lose sight of morality and ethics.
I like your analogy of the fight, Mr. Antagonist. I, too, typically see myself opening up a can even though I have only been in one fight, when I was 12, and I lost.
The question this brings to the surface is: would we really have the courage to stand up to a force as powerful as Hitler when he has already indoctrinated our friends, our families, everyone around us? Would we ignore the threats of death to stand up for what we believe to be right? Speaking for myself, I'm not so sure. In my idealist vision of myself as the heroic figure of my own life story, of course I'd like to think that I would bravely defy an empire.
Maybe I would, in fact, be morally against Hitler and the Nazis, but would my resistance amount to anything more than apathy? Would I ever take action?
The truth is, my courage has never been tested (at least not to this extent). Very few people have had their courage, their moral fiber, put to the test in such extreme circumstances, and I can comfortably assume that no one reading this blog has. So how can we KNOW that we would be willing or able to make the sacrifice necessary to aide the Jews in defiance of the Nazis?
Werd brings up the argument that as people of faith we would have the fortitude to stand against an evil empire. I’m not totally convinced. Remember that the Pope and the Catholic Church failed miserably in this regard (and have been apologizing ever since). Remember that for a good part of America’s history Christians condoned slavery. We can all think of countless examples where Christians have failed in the face of evil. I don’t think Christianity necessarily guarantees moral courage.
Please respond to these preliminary thoughts. I look forward to the discussion…
Thanks for reading.
I had originally planned a humorous little article today, a playful jab at the entertainment industry, but it will have to wait. As I read through the discussion on yesterday’s post I see some fascinating ideas, and would really like to keep the conversation going. So if you all don’t mind…
First off, welcome to Zizzle-Zot, etc., Mr. Antagonist. It’s always good to hear a new voice and a different perspective, and you have thus far been a great addition to the blog (any guesses to Mr. Antagonist’s real identity? I have no idea.)
P Corcs, thanks for initially bringing some historical perspective on the plight of the German people leading up to the rise of the Nazi Party. It’s really important to keep this perspective in mind when we are trying to understand how people could let anything like the Holocaust happen.
I'm familiar with the Milgram experiment that Mr. Antagonist mentioned. It demonstrates an interesting side of the human character. Another one to look at is the Stanford Prison Experiment: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_prison_experiment. Tests like these shows that normal, “good” people, put in certain circumstances, will to some extent lose sight of morality and ethics.
I like your analogy of the fight, Mr. Antagonist. I, too, typically see myself opening up a can even though I have only been in one fight, when I was 12, and I lost.
The question this brings to the surface is: would we really have the courage to stand up to a force as powerful as Hitler when he has already indoctrinated our friends, our families, everyone around us? Would we ignore the threats of death to stand up for what we believe to be right? Speaking for myself, I'm not so sure. In my idealist vision of myself as the heroic figure of my own life story, of course I'd like to think that I would bravely defy an empire.
Maybe I would, in fact, be morally against Hitler and the Nazis, but would my resistance amount to anything more than apathy? Would I ever take action?
The truth is, my courage has never been tested (at least not to this extent). Very few people have had their courage, their moral fiber, put to the test in such extreme circumstances, and I can comfortably assume that no one reading this blog has. So how can we KNOW that we would be willing or able to make the sacrifice necessary to aide the Jews in defiance of the Nazis?
Werd brings up the argument that as people of faith we would have the fortitude to stand against an evil empire. I’m not totally convinced. Remember that the Pope and the Catholic Church failed miserably in this regard (and have been apologizing ever since). Remember that for a good part of America’s history Christians condoned slavery. We can all think of countless examples where Christians have failed in the face of evil. I don’t think Christianity necessarily guarantees moral courage.
Please respond to these preliminary thoughts. I look forward to the discussion…
Thanks for reading.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
The Fascination with Intoxication Part 2
Apologies for yesterday, folks. Can’t really pass up lunch and a Twins game with the boss man. So, to pick up where we left off…
Big thanks to all who commented (and by that I mean P Corcs, Werd, Joey, and welcome back Late Night, it’s about damn time. Too bad Socrates08 has been MIA. He would’ve enjoyed this one). You all have raised some interesting points on both sides of the issue, and it’s good to see that we have a broad range of opinions on the matter.
Werd, you’re absolutely right to say that alcohol isn’t a prerequisite to good conversation. It’s very possible, and in many ways ideal, to form deep connections with people without the aid of alcohol. In reality, I doubt very much you could build long lasting, meaningful connections if you were only vulnerable while drunk (a fact which undoubtedly has been the downfall of many relationships, families, etc.).
P Corcs and Joey, I think, both raised a question that plays a central role in this conversation. What is drunkenness? Does drunkenness mean being over the limit to drive? Does it mean vomiting, blacking out? Where is the line?
It’s tough because the limit isn’t set in stone, and as Late Night pointed out, it’s far from black and white. Drunkenness varies from person to person, day to day. Personally, I would define drunkenness as P Corcs did: belligerent, uncomprehending, blacked out. I’ve been there a couple times, and I promise that this isn’t the intent of alcohol or the fun of alcohol. It’s miserable, and I aim to never cross the line again.
I know this was a concern for Werd. As we drink we approach that line and once we get there we can’t turn back. He has chosen to avoid that line by never approaching it. I respect him for this choice, but I also respect P Corcs, Joey and Late Night for knowing where that line is for themselves and making the conscious effort not to cross it.
So, without crossing the limit of “drunkenness” (I realize this argument is a little arbitrary since we all define drunkenness by different standards), is it a sin to get a buzz from alcohol? Joey, P Corcs, and Late Night don’t think so, and I’m inclined to agree with them (sorry Werd). I appreciate P Corcs visual of the wedding feast. These people were drinking throughout the celebration, enjoying each others’ company and as a result they ran out of wine, which led to Jesus creating more for them. Jesus didn’t say “no, you’ve had enough.” He said “Here, share in my abundance, receive my blessing, and celebrate.”
Joey also brought up an interesting perspective on this topic. It’s accepted that Jesus drank wine, he was present at the wedding feast mentioned and he was completely human. Is it realistic to imagine that he never caught a buzz from alcohol? (I’ve heard the arguments that wine back then was weaker than it is now, but I say that’s hogwash. There’s no way anyone could know that conclusively.)
I won’t lie and say that I don’t do anything stupid/sinful while I’m drinking. But I’m always doing stupid/sinful stuff. Everybody is. For the most part, the stupid acts I commit while drinking are in fun and love.
Now we get to a real dilemma. A problem that is, I imagine, near the core of Werd’s concerns.
Throughout this conversation we have been speaking of ourselves and our closest friends. We have spent years growing together, bonding by living together, participating in Bible studies, going through difficult times. We all come from stable backgrounds, have developed solid foundations in our faith, have college educations and all in all have our lives on the right track. Because of this, we are able to drink occasionally and make good decisions, without it impacting other areas of our lives.
It’s easy to forget that many people are not in the same position and for many people alcohol is a crutch. They use it to escape the reality and responsibility of the world around them and the results are never good.
What is our responsibility concerning such people? It’s another fine line to walk. If we refuse alcohol we’ll inevitably be viewed as Pharisees. But if we drink, to a certain extent it condones excessive drinking in others. Is it hypocritical to say it’s okay for me to drink, since I’ve got my feet on the ground, while saying others can’t handle the responsibility of alcohol?
What are your thoughts?
Thanks for reading.
Big thanks to all who commented (and by that I mean P Corcs, Werd, Joey, and welcome back Late Night, it’s about damn time. Too bad Socrates08 has been MIA. He would’ve enjoyed this one). You all have raised some interesting points on both sides of the issue, and it’s good to see that we have a broad range of opinions on the matter.
Werd, you’re absolutely right to say that alcohol isn’t a prerequisite to good conversation. It’s very possible, and in many ways ideal, to form deep connections with people without the aid of alcohol. In reality, I doubt very much you could build long lasting, meaningful connections if you were only vulnerable while drunk (a fact which undoubtedly has been the downfall of many relationships, families, etc.).
P Corcs and Joey, I think, both raised a question that plays a central role in this conversation. What is drunkenness? Does drunkenness mean being over the limit to drive? Does it mean vomiting, blacking out? Where is the line?
It’s tough because the limit isn’t set in stone, and as Late Night pointed out, it’s far from black and white. Drunkenness varies from person to person, day to day. Personally, I would define drunkenness as P Corcs did: belligerent, uncomprehending, blacked out. I’ve been there a couple times, and I promise that this isn’t the intent of alcohol or the fun of alcohol. It’s miserable, and I aim to never cross the line again.
I know this was a concern for Werd. As we drink we approach that line and once we get there we can’t turn back. He has chosen to avoid that line by never approaching it. I respect him for this choice, but I also respect P Corcs, Joey and Late Night for knowing where that line is for themselves and making the conscious effort not to cross it.
So, without crossing the limit of “drunkenness” (I realize this argument is a little arbitrary since we all define drunkenness by different standards), is it a sin to get a buzz from alcohol? Joey, P Corcs, and Late Night don’t think so, and I’m inclined to agree with them (sorry Werd). I appreciate P Corcs visual of the wedding feast. These people were drinking throughout the celebration, enjoying each others’ company and as a result they ran out of wine, which led to Jesus creating more for them. Jesus didn’t say “no, you’ve had enough.” He said “Here, share in my abundance, receive my blessing, and celebrate.”
Joey also brought up an interesting perspective on this topic. It’s accepted that Jesus drank wine, he was present at the wedding feast mentioned and he was completely human. Is it realistic to imagine that he never caught a buzz from alcohol? (I’ve heard the arguments that wine back then was weaker than it is now, but I say that’s hogwash. There’s no way anyone could know that conclusively.)
I won’t lie and say that I don’t do anything stupid/sinful while I’m drinking. But I’m always doing stupid/sinful stuff. Everybody is. For the most part, the stupid acts I commit while drinking are in fun and love.
Now we get to a real dilemma. A problem that is, I imagine, near the core of Werd’s concerns.
Throughout this conversation we have been speaking of ourselves and our closest friends. We have spent years growing together, bonding by living together, participating in Bible studies, going through difficult times. We all come from stable backgrounds, have developed solid foundations in our faith, have college educations and all in all have our lives on the right track. Because of this, we are able to drink occasionally and make good decisions, without it impacting other areas of our lives.
It’s easy to forget that many people are not in the same position and for many people alcohol is a crutch. They use it to escape the reality and responsibility of the world around them and the results are never good.
What is our responsibility concerning such people? It’s another fine line to walk. If we refuse alcohol we’ll inevitably be viewed as Pharisees. But if we drink, to a certain extent it condones excessive drinking in others. Is it hypocritical to say it’s okay for me to drink, since I’ve got my feet on the ground, while saying others can’t handle the responsibility of alcohol?
What are your thoughts?
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
The Fascination with Intoxication
Following the WeFest posts Werd (aka my voice of reason) raised some thoughtful concerns on the issue of drunkenness. I know that P Corcs and Joey are interested in having a conversation on this topic, and hopefully other readers will join in the debate as it progresses. Zizzle-Zot would like to begin with some initial thoughts which hopefully open up into a forum for discussion.
The consumption of alcohol is an ancient tradition and has been used for millennia as a means of fellowship and celebration. In addition, many poor civilizations throughout history haven’t had access to clean drinking water and would therefore drink wine or ale with meals for health reasons.
From a Biblical stance, the consumption of alcohol isn’t condemned, and several passages portray alcohol in a positive light (Ecclesiastes 9:7, Psalm 104:14-15, Amos 9:14). Jesus himself drank wine (John 2:1-11, Matthew 26:29) and turned water into wine for a wedding celebration.
That said, I would never attempt to make the argument that drunkenness is Biblical. Christians are called to avoid drunkenness and to condemn its effects (Ephesians 5:18, Proverbs 23:29-35). Plus, it would be a huge stretch to say that intoxication is glorifying to God.
It’s no secret that I, on occasion, find myself intoxicated, and Werd would like to know why. I can honestly say that the first two explanations Werd proposes (lack of will power, peer pressure) are not the case. I have no problem having a beer or two and stopping, and if I don’t want to drink I have no problem abstaining from alcohol while I’m around friends who are drinking. I can confidently say that most (not all) of the friends I drink with are in the same position. The next explanation used is taste. I do like the taste of beer and certain liquors, such as whiskey, but I’d be a fool to pretend that I get intoxicated because I like the taste. I like the taste of orange juice, but I rarely drink it in quantities larger than a glass at a time.
To be perfectly blunt, I would argue Werd’s fun argument (“Don’t tell me because it’s fun”). It’s a lot of fun, that’s a fact. But I understand Werd’s trepidation surrounding this reasoning. We are held to a higher standard and to live life based on “fun” is selfish and hedonistic. And the results of intoxication (headaches, exhaustion, etc.) certainly aren’t very much fun.
So why do we do it?
I’ve actually been thinking about the reasoning a lot lately, particularly since I’ve had to cut back drastically because of my marathon training. What, exactly, is the draw? I had an interesting conversation with a girl at WeFest about it, and felt like I was on to something. It was, and still is, an undeveloped theory (and I’m sure the girl thought I was certifiably insane), but now’s a good chance to give it a try.
The essence of humanity is connection. We are creatures designed to be social, to be in fellowship, to know and be known, to be loved and accepted. We long to be vulnerable, to be open, to let someone see who we truly are and not be ashamed.
It’s true that some people drink to escape themselves, so that they can be someone else for a while.
But speaking for myself and the people I surround myself with, I feel free to be truer to who I am when I’m intoxicated. Our daily lives are spent building barriers that prevent connection. We have so many boundaries created by social customs, mutual misunderstandings, intolerance, etc. that it becomes nearly impossible to communicate honestly on a personal level.
Alcohol, by lowering inhibitions, establishes a comfort zone. I can have conversations, deeply personal, intense conversations, that I would never have without a few drinks. I can talk to a complete stranger about important issues like spirituality or premarital sex (both conversations I had at WeFest) with complete openness. These types of connections would be nearly impossible for me to establish in any other setting. I believe most people have the same difficulties.
This is what I was trying to explain to the girl I mentioned at WeFest. How amazing that tens of thousands of young people drove for hours to camp out in a field, be filthy and tired for days, just so that they could feel that connection to each other. Like I said, she thought I was crazy, so it’s very possible that I’m way off base.
Of course I think it’s unfortunate that this is a reality. I wish I could maintain that level of vulnerability and honesty without alcohol. I’m working on it, but so far I still find it difficult. Do I think this is a good excuse, or a justification? Probably not, but for now it’s what I’ve got…
Thoughts?
Thanks for reading.
The consumption of alcohol is an ancient tradition and has been used for millennia as a means of fellowship and celebration. In addition, many poor civilizations throughout history haven’t had access to clean drinking water and would therefore drink wine or ale with meals for health reasons.
From a Biblical stance, the consumption of alcohol isn’t condemned, and several passages portray alcohol in a positive light (Ecclesiastes 9:7, Psalm 104:14-15, Amos 9:14). Jesus himself drank wine (John 2:1-11, Matthew 26:29) and turned water into wine for a wedding celebration.
That said, I would never attempt to make the argument that drunkenness is Biblical. Christians are called to avoid drunkenness and to condemn its effects (Ephesians 5:18, Proverbs 23:29-35). Plus, it would be a huge stretch to say that intoxication is glorifying to God.
It’s no secret that I, on occasion, find myself intoxicated, and Werd would like to know why. I can honestly say that the first two explanations Werd proposes (lack of will power, peer pressure) are not the case. I have no problem having a beer or two and stopping, and if I don’t want to drink I have no problem abstaining from alcohol while I’m around friends who are drinking. I can confidently say that most (not all) of the friends I drink with are in the same position. The next explanation used is taste. I do like the taste of beer and certain liquors, such as whiskey, but I’d be a fool to pretend that I get intoxicated because I like the taste. I like the taste of orange juice, but I rarely drink it in quantities larger than a glass at a time.
To be perfectly blunt, I would argue Werd’s fun argument (“Don’t tell me because it’s fun”). It’s a lot of fun, that’s a fact. But I understand Werd’s trepidation surrounding this reasoning. We are held to a higher standard and to live life based on “fun” is selfish and hedonistic. And the results of intoxication (headaches, exhaustion, etc.) certainly aren’t very much fun.
So why do we do it?
I’ve actually been thinking about the reasoning a lot lately, particularly since I’ve had to cut back drastically because of my marathon training. What, exactly, is the draw? I had an interesting conversation with a girl at WeFest about it, and felt like I was on to something. It was, and still is, an undeveloped theory (and I’m sure the girl thought I was certifiably insane), but now’s a good chance to give it a try.
The essence of humanity is connection. We are creatures designed to be social, to be in fellowship, to know and be known, to be loved and accepted. We long to be vulnerable, to be open, to let someone see who we truly are and not be ashamed.
It’s true that some people drink to escape themselves, so that they can be someone else for a while.
But speaking for myself and the people I surround myself with, I feel free to be truer to who I am when I’m intoxicated. Our daily lives are spent building barriers that prevent connection. We have so many boundaries created by social customs, mutual misunderstandings, intolerance, etc. that it becomes nearly impossible to communicate honestly on a personal level.
Alcohol, by lowering inhibitions, establishes a comfort zone. I can have conversations, deeply personal, intense conversations, that I would never have without a few drinks. I can talk to a complete stranger about important issues like spirituality or premarital sex (both conversations I had at WeFest) with complete openness. These types of connections would be nearly impossible for me to establish in any other setting. I believe most people have the same difficulties.
This is what I was trying to explain to the girl I mentioned at WeFest. How amazing that tens of thousands of young people drove for hours to camp out in a field, be filthy and tired for days, just so that they could feel that connection to each other. Like I said, she thought I was crazy, so it’s very possible that I’m way off base.
Of course I think it’s unfortunate that this is a reality. I wish I could maintain that level of vulnerability and honesty without alcohol. I’m working on it, but so far I still find it difficult. Do I think this is a good excuse, or a justification? Probably not, but for now it’s what I’ve got…
Thoughts?
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Is the Bible Inerrant? Part Deux
Yesterday I established that I have some serious issues believing in the inerrancy of the Bible. But what does that mean? How does this affect my faith, my world view, my perception of existence and our relationship to a higher realm?
Theologians have proposed another way around the issue. There is a school of thought that believes the Bible is infallible and holds that the Book is inerrant on issues of faith and practice but not on issues of science and history. Does that mean God can make mistakes? That He didn’t understand the scientific workings of the universe which he created? That He was unable to divinely inspire his authors to get the historical facts straight?
If you ask me, this is blasphemy. One could argue that man’s misconceptions about history and science are at fault. True, the men who wrote the Bible didn’t have the understanding or technological advancements that we enjoy now, but think about what this argument is really saying. It’s saying that these men were incapable of understanding the science and history of the world around them, and should not be expected to have such a capacity, yet they were able to, without error, decipher the Divine Mystery. They were able to comprehend the Nature and Will of God, fathom the unfathomable vastness that is the Creator of the Universe, and envision God’s Kingdom as He would see fit. I doubt it. This theory doesn’t give God the credit He deserves. It is arguing that the complexities of earthbound affairs are more difficult to grasp than the infinite complexities of its Creator. Not an assertion I’d be willing to make.
Then again, maybe I’m the blasphemer.
Since I have such difficulty accepting the nature of the Bible as inerrant, and since I find the theory of infallibility to be an implausible detour, I guess I have just one question left to ask myself: Does it matter?
Can I call myself a Christian and question the Bible as much as I do? That’s a difficult query, and I’ll answer it by saying: no with a maybe and yes with a but…
If I were to define Christianity as a “religion” in the traditional sense of the word, then my skepticism and my Christianity would most likely be incompatible. Christianity as a formal religion is heavily steeped in doctrine drawn from the Bible and leaves little room for questioning.
So it’s lucky (convenient?) for me that I don’t define Christianity as the church. My quandaries with Biblical inerrancy don’t necessarily inhibit my ability to shape my life as a man of God. I don’t doubt the existence of God, nor do I doubt His awesome power, boundless nature, or infinite graciousness. I believe the Bible is a valuable teaching tool that ought to be used as a guide to morality and righteousness. I believe we should all strive to model our lives after the life of Jesus and uphold his appeals to care for the “least of these.”
But do I accept the Bible at face value, as the absolute Word of God? I don’t know anymore…
Maybe I just lack the courage required of true faith.
Thanks for reading.
P.S. Thanks to all for their comments on the “Is the Bible Inerrant?” post. As always, they were insightful and have helped me immensely in the gestation process.
Drew-bee, I’ve gotta say I’m envious of your faithfulness. It’s not always easy to believe.
P Corcs and Late Night Cassel, I think you two represent counterpoints that, intentionally or not, demonstrate interesting dichotomies on the issue of Biblical inerrancy. P Corcs, you take the all or nothing approach. Either A) the Bible is the divine, inspired Word of God, in which case it must (by definition) be inerrant, or B) the Bible is a religious work created by man, in which case it is subject to error.
Your justification for the either/or approach is strong, and admittedly a little scary. If we took the stance that some of the Bible is inspired and some isn’t it would be easy to pick and choose which parts we followed and which parts we ignored. Such a stance holds some potentially ghastly consequences.
But I think Late Night Cassel has proposed a third option in his “Bible as metanarrative” interpretation. Perhaps the Bible is a divinely inspired story, designed to give us a glimpse of the nature of God, to give us the experience of resurrection, to show us that throughout history God has been at the side of His Creation without fail. So while the specific text may not be inerrant, the story is.
Or maybe we’re all way off and God is laughing at us as we type.
Theologians have proposed another way around the issue. There is a school of thought that believes the Bible is infallible and holds that the Book is inerrant on issues of faith and practice but not on issues of science and history. Does that mean God can make mistakes? That He didn’t understand the scientific workings of the universe which he created? That He was unable to divinely inspire his authors to get the historical facts straight?
If you ask me, this is blasphemy. One could argue that man’s misconceptions about history and science are at fault. True, the men who wrote the Bible didn’t have the understanding or technological advancements that we enjoy now, but think about what this argument is really saying. It’s saying that these men were incapable of understanding the science and history of the world around them, and should not be expected to have such a capacity, yet they were able to, without error, decipher the Divine Mystery. They were able to comprehend the Nature and Will of God, fathom the unfathomable vastness that is the Creator of the Universe, and envision God’s Kingdom as He would see fit. I doubt it. This theory doesn’t give God the credit He deserves. It is arguing that the complexities of earthbound affairs are more difficult to grasp than the infinite complexities of its Creator. Not an assertion I’d be willing to make.
Then again, maybe I’m the blasphemer.
Since I have such difficulty accepting the nature of the Bible as inerrant, and since I find the theory of infallibility to be an implausible detour, I guess I have just one question left to ask myself: Does it matter?
Can I call myself a Christian and question the Bible as much as I do? That’s a difficult query, and I’ll answer it by saying: no with a maybe and yes with a but…
If I were to define Christianity as a “religion” in the traditional sense of the word, then my skepticism and my Christianity would most likely be incompatible. Christianity as a formal religion is heavily steeped in doctrine drawn from the Bible and leaves little room for questioning.
So it’s lucky (convenient?) for me that I don’t define Christianity as the church. My quandaries with Biblical inerrancy don’t necessarily inhibit my ability to shape my life as a man of God. I don’t doubt the existence of God, nor do I doubt His awesome power, boundless nature, or infinite graciousness. I believe the Bible is a valuable teaching tool that ought to be used as a guide to morality and righteousness. I believe we should all strive to model our lives after the life of Jesus and uphold his appeals to care for the “least of these.”
But do I accept the Bible at face value, as the absolute Word of God? I don’t know anymore…
Maybe I just lack the courage required of true faith.
Thanks for reading.
P.S. Thanks to all for their comments on the “Is the Bible Inerrant?” post. As always, they were insightful and have helped me immensely in the gestation process.
Drew-bee, I’ve gotta say I’m envious of your faithfulness. It’s not always easy to believe.
P Corcs and Late Night Cassel, I think you two represent counterpoints that, intentionally or not, demonstrate interesting dichotomies on the issue of Biblical inerrancy. P Corcs, you take the all or nothing approach. Either A) the Bible is the divine, inspired Word of God, in which case it must (by definition) be inerrant, or B) the Bible is a religious work created by man, in which case it is subject to error.
Your justification for the either/or approach is strong, and admittedly a little scary. If we took the stance that some of the Bible is inspired and some isn’t it would be easy to pick and choose which parts we followed and which parts we ignored. Such a stance holds some potentially ghastly consequences.
But I think Late Night Cassel has proposed a third option in his “Bible as metanarrative” interpretation. Perhaps the Bible is a divinely inspired story, designed to give us a glimpse of the nature of God, to give us the experience of resurrection, to show us that throughout history God has been at the side of His Creation without fail. So while the specific text may not be inerrant, the story is.
Or maybe we’re all way off and God is laughing at us as we type.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Is the Bible Inerrant?
This question has been cause for much debate between both religious leaders and Biblical scholars. It is a divisive issue that often pits Christians against fellow Christians. It is a question that I have wrestled with time and again in my search for true faith.
If the Bible isn’t the inerrant, divinely inspired Word of God, then what purpose does it serve for those seeking truth, morality and the will of God? If the Bible does in fact contain errors, inconsistencies, discrepancies, then can we use it as our guide in navigating life? If the entire Bible isn’t absolutely, entirely infallible, then what parts are? Do we get to pick and choose which parts to heed and which to ignore? If this is the case, then what exactly is Christianity based on other than an arbitrary selected set of doctrines?
Yet the more I ponder it, the more I find myself doubting the inerrancy of the Bible.
It’s not that I doubt that the Bible is the Word of God. I do believe that He inspired the text and that the message of the Bible is the message of God. Nor do I doubt the historical accuracy of Bible. I’m aware that there are numerous corroborating texts from the time period which attest to its historicity.
But to say that the Bible is the absolute, unaltered, inerrant word of God is, for me, a bit of a logical stretch. Allow me to explain why:
The primary logical hurdle is the answer to the question: How do we know that the Bible is inerrant? I wish I knew my theology better, but the standard first response to this question (that I have heard) is that we know the Bible is inerrant because scripture, which is the divinely inspired word of God, attests to its inerrancy. Inerrancy proponents will then quote some piece of scripture, most likely 2 Timothy 3:16: “All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness.”
I’m sure you all see the circular reasoning and logical absurdity of this argument. The Bible is inerrant because it says it is? Put the God issue, along with personal attachments and beliefs, aside for one moment and look at the preposterousness of this logic with me. As a text free from religious attachments, this supporting evidence for inerrancy is less than paper thin. There is no other book in the world that Christianity believes to be true simply because it proclaims its own truthfulness.
Everything the Bible says is true. How do we know? Because the Bible says that everything the Bible says is true, and everything the Bible says is true. Huh?
To further illustrate, take a look at the following statement: Everything I say is a lie. Was that statement a lie? Of course. Everything I say is a lie. But if everything I say is a lie, then so was that statement, which means everything I say is true. So the truth is, everything I say is a lie. Confused yet? Yeah, me too.
Internal justification simply doesn’t work. If I made a movie and introduced it by stating that it was inerrant, would that make it so? Absolutely not. You’d have to be a madman (or woman. Zizzle-Zot doesn’t discriminate) to take me at my word. So why do so many so readily accept the inerrancy of the Bible?
Now things get dicey, because to answer that question we must bring the God issue back into the picture. To believe in God requires a certain degree of blind faith, and that means at times we are required to take God at His word. If God says something is truth it’s probably best not to question it.
But is the Bible the absolute, 100%, without a doubt Word of God? I don’t know if I can believe that either.
The Bible, as we know it, was first approved at the 3rd Council of Carthage in 397 AD (feel free to dispute the historical accuracy of this, if it’s wrong. It’s been a while since I took Introduction to the Bible). Though the 27 books of the New Testament had been read and distributed widely (give or take) by Christian groups for hundreds of years, the 3rd Council of Carthage was the first to officially canonize them.
So let’s take a step back and look at what we have here: A collection of letters and stories written by men and then compiled by men. Yes I believe that the canonizers were (or at least the majority were) holy, righteous men that were truly concerned with the spreading of God’s message and the welfare of the church. But do we not imagine that these men had even slightly differing perceptions of what God’s message was, or differing ideas of what was best for the church? They did, after all, rise to influence over 300 years after the life of Jesus and were, in effect, far removed from the context of His teachings.
Do we not imagine that there was a minority that would be motivated by personal ambition, self interest, and insidious ends? A minority that had come to a position of power and influence in the church and would do what it took to maintain that position, even if that meant including or excluding books, books that perhaps supported or refuted said minority’s specific teachings, from Christianity’s holiest text?
And if this 3rd Council of Carthage was truly anointed by God to assemble the text that would be the guiding light for Christianity, where were the women? Where was representation from other parts of the world? Research I have done indicates that the 3rd Council of Carthage was in fact a regional council consisting mostly of bishops in Africa. Are we to believe that God didn’t see fit to include a more diverse cross section of humanity in the canonization process?
To put it in a modern context, imagine assembling the most influential Christian leaders of today to canonize a new Bible. We’d probably have the Pope, Billy Graham, maybe Brennan Manning, Rick Warren, Jim Wallis, Desmond Tutu if we’re lucky, etc. But then I imagine James Dobson, Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell (RIP) would show up for the conversation. With these last three on the list do you suppose we would end up with a Bible reflecting the inerrant voice of God? Me neither. We would be left with a bias catalogue of personal interests and pet doctrines. It really isn’t even fair to limit the fault to Dobson, Robertson and Falwell. Wallis, Warren and Manning have their specialized scriptural interpretations as well.
The point is, the leaders of the church today would not be capable of abandoning their limited personal world views to truly recognize the Will and Word of God, so why do we imagine it was any different at the 3rd Council of Carthage in 397?
I’m going to stop there for today. I need some time to let my mind wrap around itself (weird, I know). I’ll be back tomorrow with whatever semblance of a conclusion I can come up with for this maze. Let me know your thoughts…
Thanks for reading.
If the Bible isn’t the inerrant, divinely inspired Word of God, then what purpose does it serve for those seeking truth, morality and the will of God? If the Bible does in fact contain errors, inconsistencies, discrepancies, then can we use it as our guide in navigating life? If the entire Bible isn’t absolutely, entirely infallible, then what parts are? Do we get to pick and choose which parts to heed and which to ignore? If this is the case, then what exactly is Christianity based on other than an arbitrary selected set of doctrines?
Yet the more I ponder it, the more I find myself doubting the inerrancy of the Bible.
It’s not that I doubt that the Bible is the Word of God. I do believe that He inspired the text and that the message of the Bible is the message of God. Nor do I doubt the historical accuracy of Bible. I’m aware that there are numerous corroborating texts from the time period which attest to its historicity.
But to say that the Bible is the absolute, unaltered, inerrant word of God is, for me, a bit of a logical stretch. Allow me to explain why:
The primary logical hurdle is the answer to the question: How do we know that the Bible is inerrant? I wish I knew my theology better, but the standard first response to this question (that I have heard) is that we know the Bible is inerrant because scripture, which is the divinely inspired word of God, attests to its inerrancy. Inerrancy proponents will then quote some piece of scripture, most likely 2 Timothy 3:16: “All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness.”
I’m sure you all see the circular reasoning and logical absurdity of this argument. The Bible is inerrant because it says it is? Put the God issue, along with personal attachments and beliefs, aside for one moment and look at the preposterousness of this logic with me. As a text free from religious attachments, this supporting evidence for inerrancy is less than paper thin. There is no other book in the world that Christianity believes to be true simply because it proclaims its own truthfulness.
Everything the Bible says is true. How do we know? Because the Bible says that everything the Bible says is true, and everything the Bible says is true. Huh?
To further illustrate, take a look at the following statement: Everything I say is a lie. Was that statement a lie? Of course. Everything I say is a lie. But if everything I say is a lie, then so was that statement, which means everything I say is true. So the truth is, everything I say is a lie. Confused yet? Yeah, me too.
Internal justification simply doesn’t work. If I made a movie and introduced it by stating that it was inerrant, would that make it so? Absolutely not. You’d have to be a madman (or woman. Zizzle-Zot doesn’t discriminate) to take me at my word. So why do so many so readily accept the inerrancy of the Bible?
Now things get dicey, because to answer that question we must bring the God issue back into the picture. To believe in God requires a certain degree of blind faith, and that means at times we are required to take God at His word. If God says something is truth it’s probably best not to question it.
But is the Bible the absolute, 100%, without a doubt Word of God? I don’t know if I can believe that either.
The Bible, as we know it, was first approved at the 3rd Council of Carthage in 397 AD (feel free to dispute the historical accuracy of this, if it’s wrong. It’s been a while since I took Introduction to the Bible). Though the 27 books of the New Testament had been read and distributed widely (give or take) by Christian groups for hundreds of years, the 3rd Council of Carthage was the first to officially canonize them.
So let’s take a step back and look at what we have here: A collection of letters and stories written by men and then compiled by men. Yes I believe that the canonizers were (or at least the majority were) holy, righteous men that were truly concerned with the spreading of God’s message and the welfare of the church. But do we not imagine that these men had even slightly differing perceptions of what God’s message was, or differing ideas of what was best for the church? They did, after all, rise to influence over 300 years after the life of Jesus and were, in effect, far removed from the context of His teachings.
Do we not imagine that there was a minority that would be motivated by personal ambition, self interest, and insidious ends? A minority that had come to a position of power and influence in the church and would do what it took to maintain that position, even if that meant including or excluding books, books that perhaps supported or refuted said minority’s specific teachings, from Christianity’s holiest text?
And if this 3rd Council of Carthage was truly anointed by God to assemble the text that would be the guiding light for Christianity, where were the women? Where was representation from other parts of the world? Research I have done indicates that the 3rd Council of Carthage was in fact a regional council consisting mostly of bishops in Africa. Are we to believe that God didn’t see fit to include a more diverse cross section of humanity in the canonization process?
To put it in a modern context, imagine assembling the most influential Christian leaders of today to canonize a new Bible. We’d probably have the Pope, Billy Graham, maybe Brennan Manning, Rick Warren, Jim Wallis, Desmond Tutu if we’re lucky, etc. But then I imagine James Dobson, Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell (RIP) would show up for the conversation. With these last three on the list do you suppose we would end up with a Bible reflecting the inerrant voice of God? Me neither. We would be left with a bias catalogue of personal interests and pet doctrines. It really isn’t even fair to limit the fault to Dobson, Robertson and Falwell. Wallis, Warren and Manning have their specialized scriptural interpretations as well.
The point is, the leaders of the church today would not be capable of abandoning their limited personal world views to truly recognize the Will and Word of God, so why do we imagine it was any different at the 3rd Council of Carthage in 397?
I’m going to stop there for today. I need some time to let my mind wrap around itself (weird, I know). I’ll be back tomorrow with whatever semblance of a conclusion I can come up with for this maze. Let me know your thoughts…
Thanks for reading.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Christian Zombies: A Conversation
I knew I could count on you, P Corcs, to spark some conversation on this topic. You make an excellent devil’s advocate and bring up some very good counterpoints. Some I agree with, and some I’ll do my best to counter-counterpoint.
Many of the ideas you bring up, in my mind, are issues of perspective on sin. Like I said in yesterday’s post, I’m not saying that Christians are free to sin as they please knowing those sins will be forgiven. I’m not saying we shouldn’t hold ourselves to a high moral standard. The Bible tells us that God sees all sin as an equally ugly abomination, and we should strive towards a pure, righteous life.
My argument is that the church has misled us in the method of living a righteous life. It has taught us to dwell upon our sins. It has taught us to define our faith by our sins. It has separated individuals, people that we should be embracing, into groups according to their sins (homosexuals are the most prominent example that come to mind). So while we should be striving to be Christ-like, living a life of servitude and humility, we are focused inward, obsessed with our impurities.
Many Christians have gone through the experience of accepting Christ as the cleanser of sin, acknowledging Him as our salvation, yet continuing in their sinful ways and finding themselves consumed by guilt. I know I have. I would argue it’s because we aren’t really getting it. I think to truly accept Christ as the source of salvation requires a profound realization of what he stood for and what he endured for us. It also requires us to accept something wholeheartedly which is completely outside of our frame of reference. No human has ever experience the powerful, fierce, eternal love that God has for us, so how could we possibly understand what that means? I think true acceptance of Christ as our salvation means growing nearer to such an understanding. Once we can do that we will truly strive to be like Christ. Then it will be possible to truly rid ourselves of sin. Is such an understanding even possible? I’m working on it. I’ll let you know if I figure anything out. Feel free to do the same.
Faith is personal, but never private. It’s a communal activity. The Bible calls us to serve our fellow man (or woman), but the church has made us selfish, convincing us that if we merely focus on not committing sin we will be righteous in the eyes of God. I believe this is a lie.
I realize I’m opening a can of worms. There is a huge debate surrounding the relationship between acts and salvation. We have been promised salvation if we acknowledge Christ as the source, nothing more is required. It’s Biblical. But in my mind there is a big difference between salvation and righteousness. I genuinely believe that the man who spends his days serving the poor and his nights drinking with the prostitutes is more righteous in God’s eyes than the man who spends his days denouncing sin and his nights asleep in his mansion (take note James Dobson). I realize that’s awfully bold of me, and ascribing an opinion such as this to God is a potentially blasphemous endeavor, but I said it and I mean it.
I think that when Christ calls upon people to “go forth and sin no more,” as in the examples you have given, it’s more an invitation to live like Christ than it is a command to spend life running from sin. I realize this is up to interpretation, but if we truly strive to live as Christ lived we will be incapable of sin. We will have devoted our lives to servitude and justice and we will have no room for sin, which is by definition a harmful force.
Our Father, who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
On Earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who’ve trespassed against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil,
For thine is the kingdom,
The power, and the glory,
Forever and ever,
Amen.
As you say, sin is brought up in the Lord’s Prayer, but I don’t think this calls for our lives to be consumed by thoughts of avoiding sin. The first mention of sin is a plea for forgiveness and the strength to forgive others. It is a call to cleanse us so that we can let go of sin. We need to move past our sin if we are to have a meaningful relationship with God or with others. The second reference to sin is asking God to guard us from its presence in our lives. Maybe so we won’t become consumed by it?
The first section of the Lord’s Prayer has always been my favorite. “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.” It is dangerous to guess what God’s will is, but from the Bible we can draw a picture of what His Kingdom looks like. It is a world of beauty, righteousness, love and harmony. Every soul has a servant’s heart, is intimately connected to God, and is completely pure. To see even a reflection of that image on Earth I believe we must begin focusing our faith outwards instead of inwards.
Thanks for reading.
Many of the ideas you bring up, in my mind, are issues of perspective on sin. Like I said in yesterday’s post, I’m not saying that Christians are free to sin as they please knowing those sins will be forgiven. I’m not saying we shouldn’t hold ourselves to a high moral standard. The Bible tells us that God sees all sin as an equally ugly abomination, and we should strive towards a pure, righteous life.
My argument is that the church has misled us in the method of living a righteous life. It has taught us to dwell upon our sins. It has taught us to define our faith by our sins. It has separated individuals, people that we should be embracing, into groups according to their sins (homosexuals are the most prominent example that come to mind). So while we should be striving to be Christ-like, living a life of servitude and humility, we are focused inward, obsessed with our impurities.
Many Christians have gone through the experience of accepting Christ as the cleanser of sin, acknowledging Him as our salvation, yet continuing in their sinful ways and finding themselves consumed by guilt. I know I have. I would argue it’s because we aren’t really getting it. I think to truly accept Christ as the source of salvation requires a profound realization of what he stood for and what he endured for us. It also requires us to accept something wholeheartedly which is completely outside of our frame of reference. No human has ever experience the powerful, fierce, eternal love that God has for us, so how could we possibly understand what that means? I think true acceptance of Christ as our salvation means growing nearer to such an understanding. Once we can do that we will truly strive to be like Christ. Then it will be possible to truly rid ourselves of sin. Is such an understanding even possible? I’m working on it. I’ll let you know if I figure anything out. Feel free to do the same.
Faith is personal, but never private. It’s a communal activity. The Bible calls us to serve our fellow man (or woman), but the church has made us selfish, convincing us that if we merely focus on not committing sin we will be righteous in the eyes of God. I believe this is a lie.
I realize I’m opening a can of worms. There is a huge debate surrounding the relationship between acts and salvation. We have been promised salvation if we acknowledge Christ as the source, nothing more is required. It’s Biblical. But in my mind there is a big difference between salvation and righteousness. I genuinely believe that the man who spends his days serving the poor and his nights drinking with the prostitutes is more righteous in God’s eyes than the man who spends his days denouncing sin and his nights asleep in his mansion (take note James Dobson). I realize that’s awfully bold of me, and ascribing an opinion such as this to God is a potentially blasphemous endeavor, but I said it and I mean it.
I think that when Christ calls upon people to “go forth and sin no more,” as in the examples you have given, it’s more an invitation to live like Christ than it is a command to spend life running from sin. I realize this is up to interpretation, but if we truly strive to live as Christ lived we will be incapable of sin. We will have devoted our lives to servitude and justice and we will have no room for sin, which is by definition a harmful force.
Our Father, who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
On Earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who’ve trespassed against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil,
For thine is the kingdom,
The power, and the glory,
Forever and ever,
Amen.
As you say, sin is brought up in the Lord’s Prayer, but I don’t think this calls for our lives to be consumed by thoughts of avoiding sin. The first mention of sin is a plea for forgiveness and the strength to forgive others. It is a call to cleanse us so that we can let go of sin. We need to move past our sin if we are to have a meaningful relationship with God or with others. The second reference to sin is asking God to guard us from its presence in our lives. Maybe so we won’t become consumed by it?
The first section of the Lord’s Prayer has always been my favorite. “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.” It is dangerous to guess what God’s will is, but from the Bible we can draw a picture of what His Kingdom looks like. It is a world of beauty, righteousness, love and harmony. Every soul has a servant’s heart, is intimately connected to God, and is completely pure. To see even a reflection of that image on Earth I believe we must begin focusing our faith outwards instead of inwards.
Thanks for reading.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Christian Zombies
Right now I’m reading James Joyce’s “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” and it has me thinking about sin. The semiautobiographical novel follows Joyce’s alter ego, Stephen Dedalus, as he comes of age in and around Dublin, spending most of his young life at various Jesuit boarding schools.
The reason it has me thinking about sin is that Dedalus, who in his teen years goes through a period of lustfulness in which his life is consumed by prostitutes, is obsessed with the subject. Every thought he has is tainted by guilt and despair. He pines for his lost innocence, he has no hope in salvation, he believes he is forsaken. It seems to me that most anyone raised in a religious home can relate to these feelings.
The church, in its efforts to maintain piety and devout followers, has made sin the central focus of the Christian community. We’ve been indoctrinated with the idea that it is the things we don’t do that make us Christian. We don’t drink, we don’t smoke, we don’t have premarital sex, so we must be the faithful.
I say it’s bullshit (oops, swearing is definitely something Christians don’t do). The thing that supposedly separates Christianity from all other religions is the New Testament (most other religions have a creation story, a flood story, etc.) Yet the New Testament isn’t about sin. It wasn’t written to tell us all the things we can’t do, but rather to show us a right way to live. Jesus Christ was not sent to enforce the letter of the law, and in fact rebuked the Pharisees for doing so. Jesus Christ came to show us how to live in love, in peace, and in humility. He came to absolve us of the very sin which we are now so obsessed with. I would say this preoccupation with avoiding sin actually demonstrates a lack of faith. By believing ourselves even capable of not sinning and spending our lives running from sin shows that we don’t believe that Jesus can do what he said could.
I’m not by any means extending a get out of morality free card. On the contrary, living life as I’m suggesting will actually hold us to a higher moral standard. If we truly devote our lives to seeking out love, truth and justice, morality will become unavoidable. If we strive to be true Christ followers by serving our neighbors and reaching for peace, we will find our lives incompatible with sin.
But as long as we keep defining ourselves by the sins we avoid we will find ourselves incapable of escaping sins’ clutch. We don’t have the strength to evade sin by our own will, and this idea that the “best” Christian is one who resists sin better than others is in defiance of everything taught in the New Testament, and is nonsensical. This mentality is a disease infecting the church, leaving in its wake an army of Christian zombies; men and women incapable of the love and compassion that Jesus championed. We are left bigoted and hypocritical, shunning those that we are called to love the most.
Remember, it’s “what would Jesus do?,” not “what wouldn’t Jesus do?”
Thanks for reading.
The reason it has me thinking about sin is that Dedalus, who in his teen years goes through a period of lustfulness in which his life is consumed by prostitutes, is obsessed with the subject. Every thought he has is tainted by guilt and despair. He pines for his lost innocence, he has no hope in salvation, he believes he is forsaken. It seems to me that most anyone raised in a religious home can relate to these feelings.
The church, in its efforts to maintain piety and devout followers, has made sin the central focus of the Christian community. We’ve been indoctrinated with the idea that it is the things we don’t do that make us Christian. We don’t drink, we don’t smoke, we don’t have premarital sex, so we must be the faithful.
I say it’s bullshit (oops, swearing is definitely something Christians don’t do). The thing that supposedly separates Christianity from all other religions is the New Testament (most other religions have a creation story, a flood story, etc.) Yet the New Testament isn’t about sin. It wasn’t written to tell us all the things we can’t do, but rather to show us a right way to live. Jesus Christ was not sent to enforce the letter of the law, and in fact rebuked the Pharisees for doing so. Jesus Christ came to show us how to live in love, in peace, and in humility. He came to absolve us of the very sin which we are now so obsessed with. I would say this preoccupation with avoiding sin actually demonstrates a lack of faith. By believing ourselves even capable of not sinning and spending our lives running from sin shows that we don’t believe that Jesus can do what he said could.
I’m not by any means extending a get out of morality free card. On the contrary, living life as I’m suggesting will actually hold us to a higher moral standard. If we truly devote our lives to seeking out love, truth and justice, morality will become unavoidable. If we strive to be true Christ followers by serving our neighbors and reaching for peace, we will find our lives incompatible with sin.
But as long as we keep defining ourselves by the sins we avoid we will find ourselves incapable of escaping sins’ clutch. We don’t have the strength to evade sin by our own will, and this idea that the “best” Christian is one who resists sin better than others is in defiance of everything taught in the New Testament, and is nonsensical. This mentality is a disease infecting the church, leaving in its wake an army of Christian zombies; men and women incapable of the love and compassion that Jesus championed. We are left bigoted and hypocritical, shunning those that we are called to love the most.
Remember, it’s “what would Jesus do?,” not “what wouldn’t Jesus do?”
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
The Modern Church
I’m a Christian, and I take what the Bible says to heart. For those of you who know me, this comes as no surprise. For those of you who don’t, good to meet you, and welcome to my blog.
That being said…
32 All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had. 33 With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them all. 34 There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales 35 and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need. 36 Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means Son of Encouragement), 37 sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles' feet.
Acts 5: 32-37
A friend of mine (and Bethel University Seminary student) brought this passage to my attention the other day. A group of us have been discussing it at length via email, and it has me all fired up. We all know what will inevitably ensue.
I am blogger, hear me roar.
The implications of this passage are undeniable when applied to the modern church, which falls horribly short when stacked up against the apostles’ original intention for a church community.
We should absolutely be shaping the modern church in accordance with the Biblical church, yet it would be ludicrous to believe that the modern church is anything like the description given in acts. “There were no needy persons among them.” It’s laughable. Or maybe it’s just a matter of perspective. Perhaps the modern mega-church doesn’t want anybody to be “needy” of a better sound system, so they buy the best one possible. Maybe they don’t want anybody to be “needy” for comfort, so they buy padded pews and state of the art air conditioners. At least none of their well-off brethren will be “needy.”
Maybe you couldn’t tell (sarcasm doesn’t work well in writing), but I was being facetious. Sure a lot of church-goers tithe, but very few would be willing to share everything they had to make sure nobody was truly needy.
My favorite statement from this passage is: “32 All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had.” Can you imagine what that would look like? Can you imagine having that mentality? Unfortunately, it’s been lost. Even amongst the most generous givers, there is an undercurrent of “What’s God’s is God’s…but what’s mine is mine.”
“No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own.” Really let that sink in. I’ll be honest, it makes me uncomfortable. I like my possessions. I’m attached to them. I feel that I need them.
There are millions upon millions of people throughout the world that are truly needy, needy of water and food and love, the necessities of life, and the church has failed them.
How come?
It’s because of me and people like me. It’s because we’re greedy, we’re selfish and we’re self-involved. It’s the American way (and a nasty side effect of being fallen). In some ways I blame capitalism. It has engrained in us this idea that in order to survive we must scratch and claw and climb over others to get to the top. It brings out the worst of our competitive spirit and pits us against one another, as opposed to working together towards a greater good.
It’s also the fault of the church. Somewhere down the line the church quit being a community of believers caring for each other and turned into a political tool, a means of acquiring power. And the needy that the church was called to care for, those who had nothing to offer, were forgotten.
I can sense an exciting new movement amongst Evangelicals; a movement that aims to correct this failure. There is an energy that has caused large groups of people to spontaneously mobilize towards the same goal. This group no longer accepts what the church tells them or what the government tells them at face value. They look to the Bible for guidance. They look to the words of Jesus, the stuff highlighted in red because Jesus actually said it. It’s remarkable to see the things Jesus stood for.
I challenge you all to think about joining this movement. I don’t mean that everyone should run off and join a commune, but make deliberate efforts to better the world in the spirit of following Christ. I mean love someone for no reason, sacrifice something you think you need for someone who really needs, realize that our daily problems are profoundly insignificant when compared to the problems of the world. See that we each have a part to play, and no one said it would be painless.
Thanks for reading.
That being said…
32 All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had. 33 With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them all. 34 There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales 35 and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need. 36 Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means Son of Encouragement), 37 sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles' feet.
Acts 5: 32-37
A friend of mine (and Bethel University Seminary student) brought this passage to my attention the other day. A group of us have been discussing it at length via email, and it has me all fired up. We all know what will inevitably ensue.
I am blogger, hear me roar.
The implications of this passage are undeniable when applied to the modern church, which falls horribly short when stacked up against the apostles’ original intention for a church community.
We should absolutely be shaping the modern church in accordance with the Biblical church, yet it would be ludicrous to believe that the modern church is anything like the description given in acts. “There were no needy persons among them.” It’s laughable. Or maybe it’s just a matter of perspective. Perhaps the modern mega-church doesn’t want anybody to be “needy” of a better sound system, so they buy the best one possible. Maybe they don’t want anybody to be “needy” for comfort, so they buy padded pews and state of the art air conditioners. At least none of their well-off brethren will be “needy.”
Maybe you couldn’t tell (sarcasm doesn’t work well in writing), but I was being facetious. Sure a lot of church-goers tithe, but very few would be willing to share everything they had to make sure nobody was truly needy.
My favorite statement from this passage is: “32 All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had.” Can you imagine what that would look like? Can you imagine having that mentality? Unfortunately, it’s been lost. Even amongst the most generous givers, there is an undercurrent of “What’s God’s is God’s…but what’s mine is mine.”
“No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own.” Really let that sink in. I’ll be honest, it makes me uncomfortable. I like my possessions. I’m attached to them. I feel that I need them.
There are millions upon millions of people throughout the world that are truly needy, needy of water and food and love, the necessities of life, and the church has failed them.
How come?
It’s because of me and people like me. It’s because we’re greedy, we’re selfish and we’re self-involved. It’s the American way (and a nasty side effect of being fallen). In some ways I blame capitalism. It has engrained in us this idea that in order to survive we must scratch and claw and climb over others to get to the top. It brings out the worst of our competitive spirit and pits us against one another, as opposed to working together towards a greater good.
It’s also the fault of the church. Somewhere down the line the church quit being a community of believers caring for each other and turned into a political tool, a means of acquiring power. And the needy that the church was called to care for, those who had nothing to offer, were forgotten.
I can sense an exciting new movement amongst Evangelicals; a movement that aims to correct this failure. There is an energy that has caused large groups of people to spontaneously mobilize towards the same goal. This group no longer accepts what the church tells them or what the government tells them at face value. They look to the Bible for guidance. They look to the words of Jesus, the stuff highlighted in red because Jesus actually said it. It’s remarkable to see the things Jesus stood for.
I challenge you all to think about joining this movement. I don’t mean that everyone should run off and join a commune, but make deliberate efforts to better the world in the spirit of following Christ. I mean love someone for no reason, sacrifice something you think you need for someone who really needs, realize that our daily problems are profoundly insignificant when compared to the problems of the world. See that we each have a part to play, and no one said it would be painless.
Thanks for reading.
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