We have started working on Genesis in church lately, and as I feared, it has centered largely on a discussion of origins. I am not fond of the debate.
I don't really know that Genesis is intended to shape our understanding of astrophysics and biology. I know there are plenty who would disagree, but I would also stress that one needn't have such a conviction about Genesis to believe young-earth creationism. (That is to say, we can still believe in a young earth without using Genesis as the primary source for such a belief.)
I suppose at least one of the reasons that I hate having the origins debate is that it usually ignores one of the key features of science: it is supposed to change. While scientists surely draw philosophical and religious conclusions from what they've learned (and many of them quite false), science represents a changing understanding of how the world works and what it looks like. Thumbing your nose at a scientist because he misunderstood something is childish at best and at worst teaches people exactly the wrong way to approach science.
It is also true that one of the fundamental tenets of science is naturalism: that is, that natural explanations are the only acceptable ones in scientific exploration. To put it another way, if you accept supernatural explanations for phenomena, by definition what you're doing isn't science. That doesn't make it wrong; it just means that it's not science.
When we begin by disqualifying supernatural explanations, naturally we'll cause friction between those who posit a supernatural explanation and those who deny it. But attacking science for being defined as it is smacks of begging the question.
In the end, science interrogates small-t-truth, while religion interrogates big-t-Truth. It's when scientists begin to use science to shape their moral views that problems arise (see eugenics). Science cannot by its very nature say whether an act is morally right or wrong. The moral of natural selection is "survival of the fittest," but this hardly gives us license to select out the unfit members of society (despite efforts of abortionists and others).
Science is fundamentally undecidable: it cannot say with certainty that it has ever actually finished making a decision on whether something is true or not. We know today that Newtonian mechanics is flawed, even though it accurately predicts gross observations. Einsteinian relativity and quantum mechanics are incompatible, but we haven't yet found any reconciliation between the two. So when a YEC posits a supernatural solution to questions of origins while an old-earth atheist posits another based on science, the problem isn't that science is contradicting the Bible—at some level science always will. The problem is that the YEC is arguing with the OEA on the wrong grounds: the issue with evolution isn't the scientific application, it's the fact that morally reprehensible doctrines are derived from it and flow inexorably from a scientific application of them.
When we spend all of our time pointing out holes in scientific theories that scientists already know and admit, we do little to actually advance any sort of Biblical cause. Worse yet, we teach people that science is inherently flawed (without any qualifications on what that actually means), and we condition them to think of Genesis solely in terms of the origins debate.
With some fortune I'll have some time to discuss more themes in Genesis instead of just cussing in the near future. I have been extremely busy with a variety of personal pursuits and with buying a house, so time here has been hard to find.
Lord-willing, though, more posts will follow.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Psalm 84
Some weeks ago, now, I was privileged to spend some time in Baltimore at a Korean Presbyterian Church; the pastor was concluding a series on worship taken from Psalm 84, and his comments provoked some thoughts of my own I thought I would share (now that I have a few spare moments).
Most of the two of you that read this know by now that the Psalms are special to me, not so much because they resonate with me the personal way they do with others (though they do that, too), but because of their Christological significance. We may read many of them from a prophetic perspective, and in so doing illuminate the nature of the Godhead in ways that are perhaps unexpected.
I am not much of a Hebrew scholar, knowing little of the language and not so much of the structure. But one of the interesting things I have heard is that Hebrew poetry tends to rhyme thought more than it does words, and it is with this approach I looked at Psalm 84.
Psalm 84 is the source of a popular praise and worship chorus "Better is one day." The Psalm itself is a meditation on the excellencies of God's house, the "dwelling place" or "tabernacle" of verse one. Structurally, the middle of the Psalm is contained in verses 5–7, which read
We might begin by seeing the "way to Zion" in the person of Jesus Christ: "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (Jn 14.6). There is a curious locus in the person of Christ, where a number of disparate types find their unification. So we see that the journey is bound up in Christ, but also the destination. I think the temple works similarly.
The idea of the temple extends to the person of Christ (Jn 2.21), and I think we can make an interesting connection here to Christ. The opening verse of the Psalm reads, "How lovely are your tabernacles O LORD of Hosts!" One of the first things we read in the gospel of John is, "And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1.14). The idea of dwelling here is the same as that of the tabernacle in Ps 84.1.
While the focus of the Psalm is decidedly rooted in the temple, I think we can develop a theme from other Psalms that describe the temple as though there's some divinity attached to it (specifically look at Ps 48.12–14). This presages the Divinity of Christ, who is figured in the temple as the place where God dwells.
That we can see a Messianic reference in the Psalm is reinforced in the 9th verse: "Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed!" The word "anointed" here is our word "messiah." The verse identifies the shield of the first clause as the face of God's anointed in the second (I rely on the ESV for the translation; my guess is that the Hebrew is plastic enough to draw some other conclusions).
I see Jesus as a shield, as it were, in two senses. In the first, he goes before us into God's presence (the firstborn from the dead), interceding on our behalf shielding us from God's wrath. In the second way, Jesus shields us from God by being human. God tells Moses in the famous passage that no man can see his glory and live; but in Jesus, the glory of God is contained in someone who can be seen and handled, an innocuous and innocent human who poses no such threat of death. He's harmless, as it were.
God is pictured as the sun and the shield in verse eleven, both the brightness that burns away the darkness and the shield to protect from it. Again, there's an identification here that points to the deity of Christ (the anointed is our shield, and God is our shield).
My thoughts at this point are a bit disjointed because of some interruptions; as is the case with most blog postings, it's difficult for me to find time to get them all in at once, and I find that my thoughts especially toward the end here have fragmented somewhat. But I think at least there's an outline of a thought here that would allow us to read the passage Christologically and investigate the different ways in which we know Christ's work.
Most of the two of you that read this know by now that the Psalms are special to me, not so much because they resonate with me the personal way they do with others (though they do that, too), but because of their Christological significance. We may read many of them from a prophetic perspective, and in so doing illuminate the nature of the Godhead in ways that are perhaps unexpected.
I am not much of a Hebrew scholar, knowing little of the language and not so much of the structure. But one of the interesting things I have heard is that Hebrew poetry tends to rhyme thought more than it does words, and it is with this approach I looked at Psalm 84.
Psalm 84 is the source of a popular praise and worship chorus "Better is one day." The Psalm itself is a meditation on the excellencies of God's house, the "dwelling place" or "tabernacle" of verse one. Structurally, the middle of the Psalm is contained in verses 5–7, which read
Blessed are those whose strength is in you,The central part of the Psalm concentrates on the journey; the house of God is seen as a metonymy for God's presence, and the hope of the Psalmist is bound up in living in God's presence.
in whose heart are the highways to Zion.
As they go through the Valley of Weeping
they make it a place of springs;
the early rain also covers it with pools.
They go from strength to strength;
each one appears before God in Zion.
We might begin by seeing the "way to Zion" in the person of Jesus Christ: "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (Jn 14.6). There is a curious locus in the person of Christ, where a number of disparate types find their unification. So we see that the journey is bound up in Christ, but also the destination. I think the temple works similarly.
The idea of the temple extends to the person of Christ (Jn 2.21), and I think we can make an interesting connection here to Christ. The opening verse of the Psalm reads, "How lovely are your tabernacles O LORD of Hosts!" One of the first things we read in the gospel of John is, "And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1.14). The idea of dwelling here is the same as that of the tabernacle in Ps 84.1.
While the focus of the Psalm is decidedly rooted in the temple, I think we can develop a theme from other Psalms that describe the temple as though there's some divinity attached to it (specifically look at Ps 48.12–14). This presages the Divinity of Christ, who is figured in the temple as the place where God dwells.
That we can see a Messianic reference in the Psalm is reinforced in the 9th verse: "Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed!" The word "anointed" here is our word "messiah." The verse identifies the shield of the first clause as the face of God's anointed in the second (I rely on the ESV for the translation; my guess is that the Hebrew is plastic enough to draw some other conclusions).
I see Jesus as a shield, as it were, in two senses. In the first, he goes before us into God's presence (the firstborn from the dead), interceding on our behalf shielding us from God's wrath. In the second way, Jesus shields us from God by being human. God tells Moses in the famous passage that no man can see his glory and live; but in Jesus, the glory of God is contained in someone who can be seen and handled, an innocuous and innocent human who poses no such threat of death. He's harmless, as it were.
God is pictured as the sun and the shield in verse eleven, both the brightness that burns away the darkness and the shield to protect from it. Again, there's an identification here that points to the deity of Christ (the anointed is our shield, and God is our shield).
My thoughts at this point are a bit disjointed because of some interruptions; as is the case with most blog postings, it's difficult for me to find time to get them all in at once, and I find that my thoughts especially toward the end here have fragmented somewhat. But I think at least there's an outline of a thought here that would allow us to read the passage Christologically and investigate the different ways in which we know Christ's work.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
When Helping Hurts
Traveling over the past few days has given me some much-desired reading time. I read the book (Amazon or WTS Books) from which this entry takes its title on the drive, and I enjoyed it.
I've been involved for a little while with a group of people who ministers to homeless, mainly through relationships rather than providing goods or services, and I thought the book would be a worthy read, if for no other reason than it would be thought provoking and could provide a bit of a check for me personally in what we've tried to accomplish and how.
This is primarily a theological blog, and I deal less with orthopraxy than orthodoxy when given the chance.
My primary criticism of the book is that the authors don't take more time to develop the theological underpinnings for their arguments, sound though they may be (and they support themselves well). They do take some time to look at the effect of the fall on the human race, both from the personal and interpersonal perspective, but also from the systemic perspective (that is, they argue that the plight of the poor is not merely a personal one, but also systemic, and that solutions need to target both areas, not just one).
"Man fully alive" has been a theological well spring for me for nearly a year, now, and I have seen how it impacts my interactions with the people we meet on the street. For my part, I am not an evangelist, and I haven't been gifted that way, but simply being able to talk about God's glory manifested in Christ to some of them has been a profound blessing (hopefully not just for me).
I would wish that they spent more time looking at what it means to bear the image of God, but I think they predominately wished to spend more time on the practical matters of helping. The basic premise of the book is that indiscriminate aid often hurts more than it helps, all around.
Some key points that stood out to me:
I've been involved for a little while with a group of people who ministers to homeless, mainly through relationships rather than providing goods or services, and I thought the book would be a worthy read, if for no other reason than it would be thought provoking and could provide a bit of a check for me personally in what we've tried to accomplish and how.
This is primarily a theological blog, and I deal less with orthopraxy than orthodoxy when given the chance.
My primary criticism of the book is that the authors don't take more time to develop the theological underpinnings for their arguments, sound though they may be (and they support themselves well). They do take some time to look at the effect of the fall on the human race, both from the personal and interpersonal perspective, but also from the systemic perspective (that is, they argue that the plight of the poor is not merely a personal one, but also systemic, and that solutions need to target both areas, not just one).
"Man fully alive" has been a theological well spring for me for nearly a year, now, and I have seen how it impacts my interactions with the people we meet on the street. For my part, I am not an evangelist, and I haven't been gifted that way, but simply being able to talk about God's glory manifested in Christ to some of them has been a profound blessing (hopefully not just for me).
I would wish that they spent more time looking at what it means to bear the image of God, but I think they predominately wished to spend more time on the practical matters of helping. The basic premise of the book is that indiscriminate aid often hurts more than it helps, all around.
Some key points that stood out to me:
- Consider three different phases of poverty alleviation: relief, rehabilitation, development. Too often we apply relief when something different is needed. Essentially the argument is that we should help people to help themselves rather than introducing methods that could lead to dependence.
- Attempt to identify assets among the target people group rather than needs, and encourage development of those assets to fulfill their needs. The goal is to get them to take ownership of the solution.
- Avoid paternalism in all its aspects; instead take a learner's mind to the task at hand.
- Evaluate the need for your presence; consider whether local resources are better suited for the solution and determine the appropriate response from your church.
- Foster relationships rather than dependencies.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Gospel Sermons in Acts
In the past couple weeks at church, the pastor has inexplicably raised questions about the effectiveness of Paul's sermon on Mars Hill, noting that his time in Athens was apparently limited and that there were relatively few conversions noted. He attributed this to the absence in Paul's sermon of Jesus as the Messiah and his crucifixion.
Ignoring for the moment that it seems unlikely that we have the entire contents of Paul's sermon (I would think we have a summary of the main points instead), I have to ask by what criteria we're judging the sermon. These days we consider a sermon incomplete if it doesn't contain an altar call, even though this was virtually unknown prior to Charles Finney (whose exposition of theology seems a bit suspect to me). How are we to judge the effectiveness of any particular sermon, nonetheless Paul's?
He noted other features that seem strange: no letter to the Athenians is extant (by which I think he assumed that no church was planted at this time), there is no mention of Paul being driven from the city (as happened in Thessalonika, Berea, and Philippi), and no other special commentary is made concerning the church there.
To these points I would note that no letter is extant to the Bereans, despite the evident working of the Holy Spirit in that community. Neither was Paul driven from every single place he went to preach, notably Corinth. Regarding the church, it's clear that a church certainly did exist in Athens. Dionysius' name is mentioned as among the converts, and he is reportedly one of the first bishops of that church.
As to the initial arguments regarding the invocation of Christ's name and the crucifixion, we might note that the audience were primarily Gentiles, not Jews. The idea of a Messiah was known to the Jews, but by and large an alien thing to the Greek community. (Even if there were parallels, the expectations for the Messiah to the Jew were likely different than for the Greeks.)
It makes more sense to start with a natural theology, which is essentially what we see in Paul's sermon. God is introduced as the creator and sustainer of all life. The resurrection testifies to the necessity of judgment, and so the warning is sounded. (One wonders if Paul really didn't talk about the crucifixion when he talked about the resurrection of the dead. The resurrection pervaded his discussion with Jews, too.)
Far from being "ineffective," it seems more likely that Paul tailored the sermon to the audience. He preached the gospel full well (we can see correlations from Romans in what is recorded in Acts), and it had the intended result.
I confess I'm mystified by the motivation to cast doubt on the effectiveness of this sermon. I can only speculate, and I don't really want to do that without more information; but I can't explain why a discussion concerning the audience and the likely abbreviation of the sermon as recorded in Luke wasn't even mentioned.
Ignoring for the moment that it seems unlikely that we have the entire contents of Paul's sermon (I would think we have a summary of the main points instead), I have to ask by what criteria we're judging the sermon. These days we consider a sermon incomplete if it doesn't contain an altar call, even though this was virtually unknown prior to Charles Finney (whose exposition of theology seems a bit suspect to me). How are we to judge the effectiveness of any particular sermon, nonetheless Paul's?
He noted other features that seem strange: no letter to the Athenians is extant (by which I think he assumed that no church was planted at this time), there is no mention of Paul being driven from the city (as happened in Thessalonika, Berea, and Philippi), and no other special commentary is made concerning the church there.
To these points I would note that no letter is extant to the Bereans, despite the evident working of the Holy Spirit in that community. Neither was Paul driven from every single place he went to preach, notably Corinth. Regarding the church, it's clear that a church certainly did exist in Athens. Dionysius' name is mentioned as among the converts, and he is reportedly one of the first bishops of that church.
As to the initial arguments regarding the invocation of Christ's name and the crucifixion, we might note that the audience were primarily Gentiles, not Jews. The idea of a Messiah was known to the Jews, but by and large an alien thing to the Greek community. (Even if there were parallels, the expectations for the Messiah to the Jew were likely different than for the Greeks.)
It makes more sense to start with a natural theology, which is essentially what we see in Paul's sermon. God is introduced as the creator and sustainer of all life. The resurrection testifies to the necessity of judgment, and so the warning is sounded. (One wonders if Paul really didn't talk about the crucifixion when he talked about the resurrection of the dead. The resurrection pervaded his discussion with Jews, too.)
Far from being "ineffective," it seems more likely that Paul tailored the sermon to the audience. He preached the gospel full well (we can see correlations from Romans in what is recorded in Acts), and it had the intended result.
I confess I'm mystified by the motivation to cast doubt on the effectiveness of this sermon. I can only speculate, and I don't really want to do that without more information; but I can't explain why a discussion concerning the audience and the likely abbreviation of the sermon as recorded in Luke wasn't even mentioned.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Christus Victor in Joshua
Again, apologies for the delays in writing. It has been a very busy few months, and it's not going to get any quieter.
We've been going through Joshua at Bible study (which I've only been able to sporadically attend lately). We covered the distribution of the inheritance last Friday, and I was struck by the contrast between Joshua and Jesus'. We read in Hebrews, for example:
And we see that Joshua didn't give the people rest:
The Israelites had yet to dispossess all of the native tribes from the land upon Joshua's death, and his charge to them in the following verses is to finish the job and to keep the law. (We might digress on the latter for a little while, but I won't.)
I would think that part of the reason that Jesus can give us rest is because his job is actually finished (Jn 19.30). Unlike the children of Israel, there's nothing else more for us to do.
If we stop and think for a moment, I think we can find an atonement theme here. Joshua was victorious insofar as he defeated the enemies he faced, but Christ was utterly victorious; death is defeated. While there is a tension between the already and the not-yet, Hebrews 4.8 suggests that this rest is part of the already. (Naturally we also wait for the casting out of the Devil from heaven, too; cf Re 12.8.)
To connect the dots, let's look quickly at Leviticus:
God used Israel to judge the inhabitants of Canaan, to, as it were, make atonement for the land's iniquity. There is a connection between the people and the land that I think we often miss. The land itself required cleansing, and there was a relationship between the people and the land. So, for example, the people were to make a sacrifice even when the perpetrator of a sin was not known:
I wonder if perhaps we see elements of the Christus Victor idea of atonement here. If the land is a type of our home to come, the idea that the death of Christ purifies the land (and the people to dwell in it) helps make some sense of Hebrews 9.23: "Thus it was necessary for the copies of the heavenly things to be purified with these rites, but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these." (In this context the purification deals with instruments of worship, not the land itself.)
There is a sense, too, in which we can map some kind of eschatalogical judgment to the scene in Joshua, and I suppose this also naturally falls into the assertion of Christ's kingdom and kingly authority. This reeks of Christus Victor (at least to me).
I have to develop my thoughts more (it seems like almost all of my articles are fits and starts of thought rather than their completion), but I think this would allow us a more complete view of atonement. I'm a PSA guy, but I recognize that this isn't the only way people think of atonement (and that other viewpoints provide important insight, too). Seeing atonement from an eschatalogically realized perspective may help to integrate them a little more effectively.
We've been going through Joshua at Bible study (which I've only been able to sporadically attend lately). We covered the distribution of the inheritance last Friday, and I was struck by the contrast between Joshua and Jesus'. We read in Hebrews, for example:
For if Joshua had given them rest, God would not have spoken of another day later on. So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God's rest has also rested from his works as God did from his (He 4.7–9).
And we see that Joshua didn't give the people rest:
Behold, I have allotted to you as an inheritance for your tribes those nations that remain, along with all the nations that I have already cut off, from the Jordan to the Great Sea in the west (Jo 23.4).
The Israelites had yet to dispossess all of the native tribes from the land upon Joshua's death, and his charge to them in the following verses is to finish the job and to keep the law. (We might digress on the latter for a little while, but I won't.)
I would think that part of the reason that Jesus can give us rest is because his job is actually finished (Jn 19.30). Unlike the children of Israel, there's nothing else more for us to do.
If we stop and think for a moment, I think we can find an atonement theme here. Joshua was victorious insofar as he defeated the enemies he faced, but Christ was utterly victorious; death is defeated. While there is a tension between the already and the not-yet, Hebrews 4.8 suggests that this rest is part of the already. (Naturally we also wait for the casting out of the Devil from heaven, too; cf Re 12.8.)
To connect the dots, let's look quickly at Leviticus:
Do not make yourselves unclean by any of these things, for by all these the nations I am driving out before you have become unclean, and the land became unclean, so that I punished its iniquity, and the land vomited out its inhabitants (Le 18.24,25).
God used Israel to judge the inhabitants of Canaan, to, as it were, make atonement for the land's iniquity. There is a connection between the people and the land that I think we often miss. The land itself required cleansing, and there was a relationship between the people and the land. So, for example, the people were to make a sacrifice even when the perpetrator of a sin was not known:
If in the land that the LORD your God is giving you to possess someone is found slain, lying in the open country, and it is not known who killed him, then your elders and your judges shall come out, and they shall measure the distance to the surrounding cities. ... And all the elders of that city nearest to the slain man shall wash their hands over the heifer whose neck was broken in the valley, and they shall testify, 'Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it shed. Accept atonement, O LORD, for your people Israel, whom you have redeemed, and do not set the guilt of innocent blood in the midst of your people Israel, so that their blood guilt be atoned for.' (De 21.1,2, 6–8)
I wonder if perhaps we see elements of the Christus Victor idea of atonement here. If the land is a type of our home to come, the idea that the death of Christ purifies the land (and the people to dwell in it) helps make some sense of Hebrews 9.23: "Thus it was necessary for the copies of the heavenly things to be purified with these rites, but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these." (In this context the purification deals with instruments of worship, not the land itself.)
There is a sense, too, in which we can map some kind of eschatalogical judgment to the scene in Joshua, and I suppose this also naturally falls into the assertion of Christ's kingdom and kingly authority. This reeks of Christus Victor (at least to me).
I have to develop my thoughts more (it seems like almost all of my articles are fits and starts of thought rather than their completion), but I think this would allow us a more complete view of atonement. I'm a PSA guy, but I recognize that this isn't the only way people think of atonement (and that other viewpoints provide important insight, too). Seeing atonement from an eschatalogically realized perspective may help to integrate them a little more effectively.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
He Is Risen!
As John 19.30 says so nicely, "It is finished."
Some verses to consider today:
(Ps 118.17-20)
(Ps 24.7-10)
(Lu 24.1-6)
Have a Happy Easter, all.
Some verses to consider today:
I shall not die, but I shall live,
and recount the deeds of the LORD.
The LORD has disciplined me severely,
but he has not given me over to death.
Open to me the gates of righteousness,
that I may enter through them
and give thanks to the LORD.
This is the gate of the LORD;
the righteous shall enter through it.
(Ps 118.17-20)
Lift up your heads, O gates!
And be lifted up, O ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.
Who is this King of glory?
The LORD, strong and mighty,
the LORD, mighty in battle!
Lift up your heads, O gates!
And lift them up, O ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.
Who is this King of glory?
The LORD of hosts,
he is the King of glory!
(Ps 24.7-10)
But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen."
(Lu 24.1-6)
Have a Happy Easter, all.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Christmas Verses
Finally. After some time trying to find free online storage, I discovered Box.net, and it looks exactly like what I wanted.
You can download PDFs of the verses sent out from the shared folder. At some point I'll probably do some for Easter, too—considering that the Christmas story is only half.
You can download PDFs of the verses sent out from the shared folder. At some point I'll probably do some for Easter, too—considering that the Christmas story is only half.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Not Forgotten
I have not forgotten this blog. It has been difficult to come here of late, largely due to a lot of real life business that is unlikely to subside in the weeks and months to come. As a matter of fact, I am stealing some time away from needed chores to write this.
I had hoped to post some PDFs with verses in them for Christmas, but as of yet I've not figured out how to share them with literally everyone using Google. So until I learn how this all works, I won't have much to share.
But hopefully this blog post is a portent of good things to come.
I had hoped to post some PDFs with verses in them for Christmas, but as of yet I've not figured out how to share them with literally everyone using Google. So until I learn how this all works, I won't have much to share.
But hopefully this blog post is a portent of good things to come.
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