In my experience, Christians who think they read the Bible literally often don't, in particular neglecting genre as a key element of understanding the Bible. The reading of Genesis is a common example. Christians have an unnerving tendency to make origins the main subject of the first few chapters, arguing ad nauseam about whether the Creation was instantaneous or prolonged, whether it could happen with or without intervention, and so on.
But what they miss—I think by forgetting the genre—are striking pictures of the person and work of Christ.
Adam is a type of Christ, for example, and Eve a type of his bride, the church. And so when Adam is naming the animals, we see that none was found sufficient as a partner for him. And so Eve is formed from a part of Adam, as we are formed from Christ; as she was made for Adam, so we were made for Christ.
Adam typifies Christ in eating from the tree; unlike Eve, who was deceived, Adam knowingly ate, choosing Eve over God. In the same way, Christ knowingly took our sin burden, alienating himself from God to be with us.
It happens again when Adam and Eve form their own clothing from fig leaves. Their own works (the fig leaves) are insufficient for covering up their sin. God establishes a precedent in Genesis—the death of the innocent in place of the guilty—when he sacrifices an animal and clothes Adam and Eve in skins. The picture is clear: our own works are insufficient to fix the sin problem; God must take it upon himself.
All of this is there (without even mentioning the cursory nod to the prophecy of the Messiah in 3:15), and mostly ignored by people who are so intent on figuring out problems with populating the earth, Cain's wife, the longevity of our ancient forebears, origins, and so and so forth. These are worthy issues to discuss, and not without interest; but Genesis isn't a cosmology textbook and doesn't speak very effectively to molecular biology.
If we took three minutes to take the mythic1 genre of Genesis into account, I think we'd have a more refined picture of how it fits in with the rest of Scripture.
In my experience, plenary verbal inspirationists have a bad understanding of what it means to read the Scripture literally. I want to make clear that while I absolutely believe in plenary verbal inspiration2, I don't think as a consequence that it permits us to change the scope of Scripture. We otherwise tend to co-opt the Bible for temporal concerns and lose an eternal perspective of what is contained in it.
[1] Myths are not necessarily false.
[2] There are many consequences to plenary verbal inspiration which I don't have much time to write about in this particular essay. There are also several definitions of "literal" that should be examined. I've hinted already that a literal reading incorporates more than just the facts, but also, for example, genre.
Friday, December 1, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Theology
I have come to realize that my inconsistency in writing here was mainly due to the fact that I am not much interested in politics, the news, or much else that invigorates the popular sphere. I am not gifted, as was Chesteron, I think, to have an opinion about everything. When I debate, it is usually about theology or grammar (and sometimes both).
As I have mentioned in the past, my background is basically Reformed, though I think I have been taught to emphasize the faithfulness of Jesus Christ substantially more than others. My theological coming of age coincided, not surprisingly, with the mental development that accompanies being a teenager, mainly with a series of sermons that went through Galatians verse by verse. This, incidentally, was also a healthy introduction to grammar.
My understanding of salvation, formed during this time, is usually somewhat different from those whom I have encountered online and at church. Salvation is pictured as a process in the New Testament, yet redemption a one-time occurrence. Most people use the word "saved" to mean "going to heaven," though I think this is probably not a precise use of the term (see, for example, 1Ti 2.15, 2Ti 4.16). I use the word "redeemed" instead.
Redemption—forgiveness purchased by the blood of Christ—has nothing to do with man's will or faith in Christ. It is, instead, purely a function of the faithfulness of Christ.
For a long time, my perspective of "free will" was basically the same as what is popularly espoused in the post-Enlightenment world—that is, that free will is the power of contrary choice. That free will so defined doesn't exist is patently obvious, something Edwards pointed out verbosely in Freedom of the Will. (Edwards, as far as I can tell, accepted that definition of free will.)
The Scriptures, I think, present the free will as a will capable of doing what is right; hence, prior to God working in us, we were "slaves of unrighteousness" (Ro 5). This is consistent with the Scriptures' representation of man dead in sin (Ga 5 and others) and resolves a surprising number of problems (in my head, anyway; YMMV).
I think these two points serve as a relatively quick introduction to ways in which my theology is probably different than is typically expressed. Should I write more, the entries will considerably less introspective and probably not as nice.
As I have mentioned in the past, my background is basically Reformed, though I think I have been taught to emphasize the faithfulness of Jesus Christ substantially more than others. My theological coming of age coincided, not surprisingly, with the mental development that accompanies being a teenager, mainly with a series of sermons that went through Galatians verse by verse. This, incidentally, was also a healthy introduction to grammar.
My understanding of salvation, formed during this time, is usually somewhat different from those whom I have encountered online and at church. Salvation is pictured as a process in the New Testament, yet redemption a one-time occurrence. Most people use the word "saved" to mean "going to heaven," though I think this is probably not a precise use of the term (see, for example, 1Ti 2.15, 2Ti 4.16). I use the word "redeemed" instead.
Redemption—forgiveness purchased by the blood of Christ—has nothing to do with man's will or faith in Christ. It is, instead, purely a function of the faithfulness of Christ.
For a long time, my perspective of "free will" was basically the same as what is popularly espoused in the post-Enlightenment world—that is, that free will is the power of contrary choice. That free will so defined doesn't exist is patently obvious, something Edwards pointed out verbosely in Freedom of the Will. (Edwards, as far as I can tell, accepted that definition of free will.)
The Scriptures, I think, present the free will as a will capable of doing what is right; hence, prior to God working in us, we were "slaves of unrighteousness" (Ro 5). This is consistent with the Scriptures' representation of man dead in sin (Ga 5 and others) and resolves a surprising number of problems (in my head, anyway; YMMV).
I think these two points serve as a relatively quick introduction to ways in which my theology is probably different than is typically expressed. Should I write more, the entries will considerably less introspective and probably not as nice.
Sunday, September 3, 2006
Hiatus
It has been some time since I have written here. Not necessarily for lack of content or motivation, but mainly for writer's block. And I do not think that the problem is solved today, though I think I'm overdue for writing.
My sources of input these days are mostly bits and pieces about the news, and occasionally I will watch the Fox News production Fox News Watch, which is a panel of four commentators and the emcee who directs the show. Dubbed as a show that "covers the coverage," I find it somewhat less introspective than necessary.
Nonetheless, the show does often provide interesting insights about what these particular folks, at least, feel the purpose of the media is. In particular, it seems that they find the purpose of media is almost a moral one—that the news that deserves national attention should get it, to the end that some change would be implemented. I suppose good examples of this kind of coverage are Hurricaine Katrina and Iraq, both of which have cost the administration dearly in P.R. points.
For what it's worth, I think that Freedom of the Press was envisioned in the same way. Press was seen as a safeguard against tyrannical government and a means for mobilizing the population. In this sense, it is not surprising to find that news has an anti-government slant; that's basically why it's there.
It's interesting to find, however, that while the press originally was envisioned as a tool for keeping the government out of the affairs of the governed (e.g., stop taxing your people), it has transformed into an entity that invites the government to expand. While it is often on moral grounds—e.g., universal health care—I find the change profound (and unfortunate).
First because the moral grounds often aren't. Second, because the solutions undermine the moral fabric of society. Community—not government—should be the first responder in crisis. The press would do well to shame the citizenry into action.
My sources of input these days are mostly bits and pieces about the news, and occasionally I will watch the Fox News production Fox News Watch, which is a panel of four commentators and the emcee who directs the show. Dubbed as a show that "covers the coverage," I find it somewhat less introspective than necessary.
Nonetheless, the show does often provide interesting insights about what these particular folks, at least, feel the purpose of the media is. In particular, it seems that they find the purpose of media is almost a moral one—that the news that deserves national attention should get it, to the end that some change would be implemented. I suppose good examples of this kind of coverage are Hurricaine Katrina and Iraq, both of which have cost the administration dearly in P.R. points.
For what it's worth, I think that Freedom of the Press was envisioned in the same way. Press was seen as a safeguard against tyrannical government and a means for mobilizing the population. In this sense, it is not surprising to find that news has an anti-government slant; that's basically why it's there.
It's interesting to find, however, that while the press originally was envisioned as a tool for keeping the government out of the affairs of the governed (e.g., stop taxing your people), it has transformed into an entity that invites the government to expand. While it is often on moral grounds—e.g., universal health care—I find the change profound (and unfortunate).
First because the moral grounds often aren't. Second, because the solutions undermine the moral fabric of society. Community—not government—should be the first responder in crisis. The press would do well to shame the citizenry into action.
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