The Filibusters don't evoke too much of a reaction from me. Business as usual. The usual feeling of detachment because who knows what these judges really think? And there's nothing I can do to stop whatever's going to happen anyway.
It's all about power. Shall I complain that the Democrats are stopping the nominations? I don't know; it's built into the system. Shall I complain if the Republicans nuke the option? I don't know; it's built into the system. What bugs me as usual is the pious hypocrisy of individuals from both parties who know full well they'd do exactly the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot. Or maybe they all live in the usual political lala-land of self-deception.
Part of the problem is our post-modern acknowledgement that there really is no such thing as some Spock-like judge that makes decisions purely on the basis of some alleged "Constitution." Of course I could give out stupidhead awards to all the talking heads who are pretending that "their side" just interprets the Constitution and isn't idealogically affected.
And as usual, I don't feel like little old powerless me knows whether these judges are psychos or not. I am concerned if this Texas woman believes 1 Tim. 2:12 means women should not have authority over a man today--except as a judge of course. The UN appointee at least seems psycho, but I know that smear campaigns are very good at what they do. But who knows what these people would really be like?
I don't. Long live the surrealism and numb detachment of political observation...
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
Newsweek Debacles
Well back to the whacky world of politics.
I personally think flushing Qurans down the toilet is a bad policy. You know, ticks a bunch of people off that are already ticked off at us. I'm sure it would be tempting for a non-Muslim interrogator or guard to do at Guantanamo. After all, you might be thinking this book stood behind mass murder. Or maybe you would want to show a fundamentalist Muslim that their god doesn't care about them.
But it's a bad idea and a bad policy no matter what you think of the Quran. It disrespects a lot of peace loving Muslims who interpret the Quran to teach peace with others--people we want to be friends with. Frankly, I don't think Bush would agree with such actions (now Rumsfeld, I don't know...).
Did it happen? I don't know. I can certainly believe it happened. No one has come anywhere close to proving that it didn't happen. And Newsweek actually did send the article to the Defense department for pre-correction, but the Pentagon didn't mention the desecration of Quran stuff in their response.
As usual, what infuriates me is the hypocrisy among the talking heads, as if Newsweek is the one responsible for the bad image we have among the Muslim world. That's right. The Muslim world was fine with our invasion of Iraq, Abu Graib and all that stuff. But this Newsweek article? After it, all their good will is down the drain! Absolutely unbelievable.
Did Newsweek mess up? I bet they did. Could they have done a Dan Rather and not retracted the article? I suspect that, unlike him, they could have gotten away with not retracting it. It's a he said she said.
But my hunch is they did the honorable thing and retracted the article. Were they covering themselves? Probably that too. Of course it is also possible that they actually wanted to allay some of the world consequences of the article. And of course, someone might have been breathing down their neck.
By the way, the people rioting in Afghanistan are Karzai opposition who hated us anyway and are using the article as an excuse to foment opposition to Karzai. They didn't belong to the "Friends of the U.S. of A Society" until they got their Newsweek in the mail.
What now infuriates me is the talking heads--Scarborough, Fox News and Friends, the woman opposite Ron Reagan on MSNBC in the afternoons, who now speak of how Newsweek represents the "liberal elite" who just don't get it, are hurting our reputation with Muslims by printing lies that have no support in reality. These things seem a tad bit overstated and, hmm, just a little opportunistic and skewed. Or, maybe, they know they're overstating things, but just trying to help our image in the Muslim world. How helpful and global minded of them!
Maybe these things didn't happen. I hope they didn't. But I don't think anyone who thinks they might have is a liberal elite who doesn't get it.
In the end, it is good for the news people to be more circumspect in the evidence behind their stories. You shouldn't publish because you can believe something--not when the consequences are this big. That the media will be more careful in dotting their i's and crossing their t's is a good thing.
As for blogs, this remains the place for venting and feelings... Warning: I am not double checking my sources
I personally think flushing Qurans down the toilet is a bad policy. You know, ticks a bunch of people off that are already ticked off at us. I'm sure it would be tempting for a non-Muslim interrogator or guard to do at Guantanamo. After all, you might be thinking this book stood behind mass murder. Or maybe you would want to show a fundamentalist Muslim that their god doesn't care about them.
But it's a bad idea and a bad policy no matter what you think of the Quran. It disrespects a lot of peace loving Muslims who interpret the Quran to teach peace with others--people we want to be friends with. Frankly, I don't think Bush would agree with such actions (now Rumsfeld, I don't know...).
Did it happen? I don't know. I can certainly believe it happened. No one has come anywhere close to proving that it didn't happen. And Newsweek actually did send the article to the Defense department for pre-correction, but the Pentagon didn't mention the desecration of Quran stuff in their response.
As usual, what infuriates me is the hypocrisy among the talking heads, as if Newsweek is the one responsible for the bad image we have among the Muslim world. That's right. The Muslim world was fine with our invasion of Iraq, Abu Graib and all that stuff. But this Newsweek article? After it, all their good will is down the drain! Absolutely unbelievable.
Did Newsweek mess up? I bet they did. Could they have done a Dan Rather and not retracted the article? I suspect that, unlike him, they could have gotten away with not retracting it. It's a he said she said.
But my hunch is they did the honorable thing and retracted the article. Were they covering themselves? Probably that too. Of course it is also possible that they actually wanted to allay some of the world consequences of the article. And of course, someone might have been breathing down their neck.
By the way, the people rioting in Afghanistan are Karzai opposition who hated us anyway and are using the article as an excuse to foment opposition to Karzai. They didn't belong to the "Friends of the U.S. of A Society" until they got their Newsweek in the mail.
What now infuriates me is the talking heads--Scarborough, Fox News and Friends, the woman opposite Ron Reagan on MSNBC in the afternoons, who now speak of how Newsweek represents the "liberal elite" who just don't get it, are hurting our reputation with Muslims by printing lies that have no support in reality. These things seem a tad bit overstated and, hmm, just a little opportunistic and skewed. Or, maybe, they know they're overstating things, but just trying to help our image in the Muslim world. How helpful and global minded of them!
Maybe these things didn't happen. I hope they didn't. But I don't think anyone who thinks they might have is a liberal elite who doesn't get it.
In the end, it is good for the news people to be more circumspect in the evidence behind their stories. You shouldn't publish because you can believe something--not when the consequences are this big. That the media will be more careful in dotting their i's and crossing their t's is a good thing.
As for blogs, this remains the place for venting and feelings... Warning: I am not double checking my sources
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Victory Over Sin 6: Experience
Right after I wrote my entry on Romans 7, I ironically heard the testimony of someone who for a while did not believe she could be a Christian because of anger she had toward her mother. 1 John 3:15 says that "everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life remaining in him." She concluded that she would have to be a good pagan, since she couldn't let go of hatred toward her mother.
Her breakthrough came with the popular understanding of Romans 7. She came to believe that what was important was that she wanted to let go of hatred toward her mother, not that she was always able to "do the good I want to do." From then on she saw herself as another Christian who was "forgetting those things behind and reaching out to those things ahead, I pursue toward the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 3:13-14--she didn't actually mention this verse--I'm adding to the story).
Now I don't know her heart then and I don't know the rest of the story, whether she ever felt like she was able to forgive her mother. But I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she really did want to forgive her mother but found it impossible to control her anger. In what follows I am not so much addressing her story as using what little I know of her story to discuss the question of sin in the life of a believer.
First I'd like to play the "modern" card in relation to 1 John 3:15. The original connotations of the verse had concrete associations with a specific "heretical" group that had split with John's community. They had withheld help and support from John's community when they had it to give (cf. 1 John 3:17). I would thus make two important distinctions between what 1 John was talking about and the situation of this woman:
1. 1 John is not talking about feelings. It is talking about concrete actions that the group could have done to help when they chose not to. If this woman felt serious anger toward her mother, but forced herself to do concretely what she believed was appropriate in relation to her mother, I believe she kept the command to love.
Further, I don't think this woman was a "murderer" in John's sense if she let her tongue slip at some point for which she then asked forgiveness. I don't think she was a "murderer" in John's sense if she didn't return phone calls for a week or two. I don't think she was a murderer in John's sense if she didn't visit for a while because she didn't want to see her mother. Did she sin? Maybe. But I don't think these are quite the sins of murder 1 John has in mind.
On the other hand, if a person would continue to refuse to ask forgiveness, or continue to refuse to answer phone calls out of hate and continue to ignore the person out of spite for a prolonged period of time, if you were to harbor resentment in your heart for years without doing anything about it, then I'm prepared to consider you a murderer in accordance with 1 John 3:17. The Bible gives no excuse to such a person. Such a person does not really even want to forgive or be reconciled. This person continues to sin wilfully after receiving a knowledge of the truth (co-opting the language of Hebrews 10:26 for a different context). If it persists, it seems to me there is a sin unto death in the making.
2. I don't think 1 John is addressing what might be a process of coming to forgive someone. I don't want to say that God can't or doesn't instantaneously enable people to forgive or do amazing things they could never do in their own power. But sometimes humans take time to heal, and I don't think that 1 John is talking about such a process either. In my opinion, the sin 1 John pictures is not the sin of a moment. It is a trajectory, an ongoing orientation involving concrete actions.
I have gotten off track a little. My above discussion turned somewhat into a question of when sin might reach such a pitch that it severs a person's relationship with God and Christ. But this whole series is not about how much you can sin. It's about how little a person might sin through God's power.
By the way, I hate the interpretation of Philippians 3 I mentioned above. In context, the things Paul is forgetting and leaving behind are not his failures, but things he might have considered gain from a human perspective (e.g., Phil. 3:7). Indeed, one of the things Paul is leaving behind is the fact that "according to the righteousness that is in the Law, [I was] blameless" (Phil. 3:6). Oops, there goes the false but all too prevalent misconception that Paul thought he was a horrible sinner before he came to Christ. Try the Pharisee in Luke 18:9-14 if you want to know what Paul thought about himself before he came to Christ.
Similarly, if people would pay even the slightest attention to what Paul has been talking about in the context, it is the resurrection that Paul has not yet attained (see 3:11, the verse right before). Paul has not been perfected in this sense--he has not yet been resurrected. He is not saying "I'm not perfect, just forgiven."
What is he pursuing to obtain? Again, it's the "upward call" (3:14), yet another reference to resurrection. In 3:15, he now plays on the words to say, "As many of us therefore [who are] perfect, think this way."
In short, this passage has nothing to do with the easy, "I'm a failure but God loves me" Zeitgeist of your neighborhood Christian bookstore. He's talking about qualifying for the resurrection because he remained faithful (see 1 Cor. 9:27).
But back to our subject. In the previous entries I have tried to sketch out the theory of victory over sin. We saw that John saw sin as incapatible with the very essence of who a Christian is. God seed is in you, so sin isn't what we should expect to see in your lifestyle. Similarly, Paul told us that Christians do not live "according to the flesh" and that they are not "enslaved to sin." "Those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8).
Paul is not speaking in these passages of something he expects to happen to you in a second experience after you become a Christian. Take the following verses: "You are not in flesh, but in Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. And if someone does not have the Spirit of Christ, this person is not of him" (Rom. 8:9-10). In theory, all Christians are supposed to be free from the slavery of sin and living a life victorious over sin. In theory, no one who is a Christian is supposed to be "in the flesh."
Here is where we find the disconnect between theory and practice. In the end, Romans 7 would capture well the feeling of a lot of Christians out there. If all Christians were free from sin in practice, then Paul would not have to say, "Do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its desires" (Rom. 6:12). Despite the theory, we nevertheless frequently find Christians giving in to their flesh.
Indeed, Paul places the problem Corinthians in this category: "I was not able to speak to you as spiritual, but as individuals made of flesh, as babies in Christ. I gave you milk to drink, not solid food, for you were not yet able [to handle it]. But even now you are not able [to handle it], for you are still fleshly. For when strife and discord are among you, are you not fleshly and walking on a human level?" (1 Cor. 3:1-3).
Now I grew up with preaching that systematized these words. You start off the "natural man" of 1 Corinthians 2:14. Then you become a Christian, but as a baby Christian you are the "carnal man," the person in the flesh. Finally, at entire sanctification, you become the "spiritual man."
Paul gives us no such rigid system here. This is a classic pre-modern interpretation that imposes its traditional definitions on the text. The contrast between what the KJV called the natural man and the spiritual man in 2:14 is a distinction that probably came from the Corinthians themselves. They are calling themselves spiritual in contrast to people like Paul, whom they are calling "soulish" (the word behind the KJV's natural man). Paul then takes their terms and applies his own categories, namely, the contrast between the spiritual person and the fleshly or carnal person. In other words, Paul is not presenting a three stage progression. He is countering their two category system (soulish versus spiritual) with his own two category system (carnal versus spiritual).
Nevetheless, if we don't take these terms so rigidly, we have something like the preaching I grew up with. While in theory, you would expect all Christians to be spiritual rather than fleshly, we unfortunately find some Christians who are immature, Christian babies. These are "carnal" or "fleshly" Christians over whom sin still has power. The goal is of course to end this oxymoronic state of "carnal Christians," for Christians to "become what they are."
More on this idea in a moment. But first, we should ask whether the book of Acts entails exactly such an experience where one goes from being carnal to spiritual. We note right off the bat that Acts never uses these categories in this way. But the holiness tradition after Wesley, under the influence of Phoebe Palmer and the "John Fletcher" branch of Wesley's heirs, institutionalized a moment of "entire sanctification" in conjunction with the spirit fillings of the book of Acts. I can scarcely go too much farther before I discuss the "baptism of the Holy Spirit" in Acts.
We are at a difficult point today with regard to this way of viewing entire sanctification. You will hardly find any New Testament scholar who reads the spirit fillings of Acts in this way, even at institutions from the holiness tradition. You won't find anyone espousing this view who wasn't taught it by someone else. In other words, no one would come to this conclusion on the basis of the book of Acts itself--those who see it in Acts come to the text with this interpretation already in hand.
In the world of Luke-Acts, the Day of Pentecost is the arrival of the Spirit promised in Luke 3:16. In Luke-Acts, no one has received the Holy Spirit yet before Pentecost, for this is the very arrival of the Spirit in the Christian sense, the very fulfillment of the prophecy made by John the Baptist.
In Acts 19:1-7, Paul does not consider the water baptism of John sufficient to make a person a "Christian." He has certain individuals rebaptized in the name of Jesus even though they were already baptized by John. It is only then that they receive the Holy Spirit. These individuals are baptized in the name of Jesus and receive the Holy Spirit in one foul swoop.
Similarly, the Roman soldiers of Acts 10 have never believed on Christ before they receive the Holy Spirit in Acts 10. Indeed, they receive the Holy Spirit before they are baptized as Christians. We must again see them receiving the Spirit and becoming a Christian as associated experiences.
The Samaritans of Acts 8 are the only ones in Acts where we have the Spirit coming significantly after baptism, and Acts seems to treat the situation as unusual (cf. Acts 8:14-17). The disciples themselves have to go up to Samaria so they can receive the Holy Spirit.
We therefore are on flimsy ground to consider the disciples to be Christians already on the Day of Pentecost, even though they were baptized by John. According to Paul in his writings (e.g., Rom. 8:9; 2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5), a person cannot be a Christian without the Holy Spirit. In that sense, no one can technically be called a Christian until the Day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit comes for the first time in this way (unless you want to count Jesus' own baptism).
Some might want to bring in John here (John 20:22) and say that the disciples had received the initial coming of the Holy Spirit already. This is of course a pre-modern argument that doesn't read each gospel on its own terms. But if I have to play the pre-modern game, the text of John doesn't say that they actually received the Holy Spirit at that moment. I personally believe that this is a kind of symbolic allusion to Pentecost and that Jesus "breathing" on them does indeed symbolize them receiving the Spirit of Christ. Comparing John with the other gospels shows that it is kind of like the "New Living Translation" of Jesus, so we should not be surprised that John presents Pentecost somewhat allusively.
The key and programmatic verse on this subject in Acts is of course Acts 2:38: "Repent and let each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." The first part is obviously about becoming a Christian, and the last part says nothing like "and after a while, after you die to self, you will have the experience of entire sanctification." The most natural way of reading the verse is to see all these items in association with becoming a Christian: 1) repentance, 2) baptism, 3) receiving the Holy Spirit.
In short, you will only find entire sanctification in any of these verses if you come to the text with it in hand. The term "the fulness of the Spirit" is a nice one that I actually like (more in a moment), but it is not a biblical term. Acts uses phrases like "receiving" the Spirit, the "baptism" of the Spirit, being "filled" with the Spirit interchangably.
So in what way can we speak of entire sanctification experientially? Let me start by recapping some of the conclusions I've already reached in this process:
1. The New Testament consistently considers sin incompatible with the nature of a Christian. In theory, a Christian should not sin or be under the flesh.
2. In practice, we often find Christians for whom #1 is not the case, even though it should be.
While we are now speaking logically and experientially, we can suggest that many Christians may find themselves at a point in their life where they sense they need to move to the next level in their spiritual pilgrimage. We know that despite the fact that Paul was not speaking of a Christian, many identify with his comment that "the good I want to do I don't do." Many Christians find themselves to struggle with matters of the flesh.
It is at these points that the language we have used in our tradition, while not exactly biblical, still makes sense.
Entire Sanctification: Of course every aspect of our lives has to be consigned to the realm of the holy. Everything in our lives needs to belong to our God. If you refuse to surrender everything to God, there will be a point where a "sin unto death" stands around the corner. God demands everything. If you don't eventually surrender, you have exposed the crucified Christ to public disgrace. God will not stand for it.
It makes sense to come to a point of commitment where you surrender everything to God. Logically, such surrender takes place at a point in time, even if you aren't aware of the exact moment. Wesley used the image of death. There is a time when you know a person is alive and a point when you know someone is dead. The exact moment of transition may be indiscernable.
Of course once we have said this, we recognize that new things come into our lives that have to be surrendered. Old issues that we had surrendered can resurface. Life is complicated.
Fulness of the Holy Spirit: While Acts only uses the image of being "filled" with the Holy Spirit, the image of being completely full--"the fulness"--works. If you are only half God's, then how could you be "full" of His Spirit? This language highlights something that our sense of "complete consecration" doesn't, namely, that ultimately being under the power of the Spirit is something that requires God's action. It is not something we can simply do by act of our will.
It is at this point that we can return to Paul's imagery of becoming a slave to righteousness and becoming free from the law of sin and death. I don't think Paul is setting down a process here, but he is giving us the goal. Whatever it might mean truly to be under the power of God's Spirit to where a person can fulfill the righteous requirement of the law--it must be something like what our tradition has called entire sanctification. And if the fulfilment of the law is love, then it must have looked something like what John Wesley called perfect love.
I entitled this series, "Why I believe in victory over sin" because that is what I think it all comes down to. I believe that a Christian can live consistently victorious over temptation. I believe that a Christian can be "perfect" in the sense of consistently "acting" both in thought and mind in accordance to that which you know to be the right or to avoid that which you know to be the wrong.
I further believe that God will change our attitudes as well. I believe that we can become more and more loving as time goes by in feeling as well as action. I believe that even our feelings and spontaneous reactions can become ever more Christ-like. The current pessimistic view of sin in the life of believer simply isn't biblical--and it doesn't show much confidence in the power of God either.
I believe in victory over temptation and sin.
Her breakthrough came with the popular understanding of Romans 7. She came to believe that what was important was that she wanted to let go of hatred toward her mother, not that she was always able to "do the good I want to do." From then on she saw herself as another Christian who was "forgetting those things behind and reaching out to those things ahead, I pursue toward the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 3:13-14--she didn't actually mention this verse--I'm adding to the story).
Now I don't know her heart then and I don't know the rest of the story, whether she ever felt like she was able to forgive her mother. But I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she really did want to forgive her mother but found it impossible to control her anger. In what follows I am not so much addressing her story as using what little I know of her story to discuss the question of sin in the life of a believer.
First I'd like to play the "modern" card in relation to 1 John 3:15. The original connotations of the verse had concrete associations with a specific "heretical" group that had split with John's community. They had withheld help and support from John's community when they had it to give (cf. 1 John 3:17). I would thus make two important distinctions between what 1 John was talking about and the situation of this woman:
1. 1 John is not talking about feelings. It is talking about concrete actions that the group could have done to help when they chose not to. If this woman felt serious anger toward her mother, but forced herself to do concretely what she believed was appropriate in relation to her mother, I believe she kept the command to love.
Further, I don't think this woman was a "murderer" in John's sense if she let her tongue slip at some point for which she then asked forgiveness. I don't think she was a "murderer" in John's sense if she didn't return phone calls for a week or two. I don't think she was a murderer in John's sense if she didn't visit for a while because she didn't want to see her mother. Did she sin? Maybe. But I don't think these are quite the sins of murder 1 John has in mind.
On the other hand, if a person would continue to refuse to ask forgiveness, or continue to refuse to answer phone calls out of hate and continue to ignore the person out of spite for a prolonged period of time, if you were to harbor resentment in your heart for years without doing anything about it, then I'm prepared to consider you a murderer in accordance with 1 John 3:17. The Bible gives no excuse to such a person. Such a person does not really even want to forgive or be reconciled. This person continues to sin wilfully after receiving a knowledge of the truth (co-opting the language of Hebrews 10:26 for a different context). If it persists, it seems to me there is a sin unto death in the making.
2. I don't think 1 John is addressing what might be a process of coming to forgive someone. I don't want to say that God can't or doesn't instantaneously enable people to forgive or do amazing things they could never do in their own power. But sometimes humans take time to heal, and I don't think that 1 John is talking about such a process either. In my opinion, the sin 1 John pictures is not the sin of a moment. It is a trajectory, an ongoing orientation involving concrete actions.
I have gotten off track a little. My above discussion turned somewhat into a question of when sin might reach such a pitch that it severs a person's relationship with God and Christ. But this whole series is not about how much you can sin. It's about how little a person might sin through God's power.
By the way, I hate the interpretation of Philippians 3 I mentioned above. In context, the things Paul is forgetting and leaving behind are not his failures, but things he might have considered gain from a human perspective (e.g., Phil. 3:7). Indeed, one of the things Paul is leaving behind is the fact that "according to the righteousness that is in the Law, [I was] blameless" (Phil. 3:6). Oops, there goes the false but all too prevalent misconception that Paul thought he was a horrible sinner before he came to Christ. Try the Pharisee in Luke 18:9-14 if you want to know what Paul thought about himself before he came to Christ.
Similarly, if people would pay even the slightest attention to what Paul has been talking about in the context, it is the resurrection that Paul has not yet attained (see 3:11, the verse right before). Paul has not been perfected in this sense--he has not yet been resurrected. He is not saying "I'm not perfect, just forgiven."
What is he pursuing to obtain? Again, it's the "upward call" (3:14), yet another reference to resurrection. In 3:15, he now plays on the words to say, "As many of us therefore [who are] perfect, think this way."
In short, this passage has nothing to do with the easy, "I'm a failure but God loves me" Zeitgeist of your neighborhood Christian bookstore. He's talking about qualifying for the resurrection because he remained faithful (see 1 Cor. 9:27).
But back to our subject. In the previous entries I have tried to sketch out the theory of victory over sin. We saw that John saw sin as incapatible with the very essence of who a Christian is. God seed is in you, so sin isn't what we should expect to see in your lifestyle. Similarly, Paul told us that Christians do not live "according to the flesh" and that they are not "enslaved to sin." "Those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8).
Paul is not speaking in these passages of something he expects to happen to you in a second experience after you become a Christian. Take the following verses: "You are not in flesh, but in Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. And if someone does not have the Spirit of Christ, this person is not of him" (Rom. 8:9-10). In theory, all Christians are supposed to be free from the slavery of sin and living a life victorious over sin. In theory, no one who is a Christian is supposed to be "in the flesh."
Here is where we find the disconnect between theory and practice. In the end, Romans 7 would capture well the feeling of a lot of Christians out there. If all Christians were free from sin in practice, then Paul would not have to say, "Do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its desires" (Rom. 6:12). Despite the theory, we nevertheless frequently find Christians giving in to their flesh.
Indeed, Paul places the problem Corinthians in this category: "I was not able to speak to you as spiritual, but as individuals made of flesh, as babies in Christ. I gave you milk to drink, not solid food, for you were not yet able [to handle it]. But even now you are not able [to handle it], for you are still fleshly. For when strife and discord are among you, are you not fleshly and walking on a human level?" (1 Cor. 3:1-3).
Now I grew up with preaching that systematized these words. You start off the "natural man" of 1 Corinthians 2:14. Then you become a Christian, but as a baby Christian you are the "carnal man," the person in the flesh. Finally, at entire sanctification, you become the "spiritual man."
Paul gives us no such rigid system here. This is a classic pre-modern interpretation that imposes its traditional definitions on the text. The contrast between what the KJV called the natural man and the spiritual man in 2:14 is a distinction that probably came from the Corinthians themselves. They are calling themselves spiritual in contrast to people like Paul, whom they are calling "soulish" (the word behind the KJV's natural man). Paul then takes their terms and applies his own categories, namely, the contrast between the spiritual person and the fleshly or carnal person. In other words, Paul is not presenting a three stage progression. He is countering their two category system (soulish versus spiritual) with his own two category system (carnal versus spiritual).
Nevetheless, if we don't take these terms so rigidly, we have something like the preaching I grew up with. While in theory, you would expect all Christians to be spiritual rather than fleshly, we unfortunately find some Christians who are immature, Christian babies. These are "carnal" or "fleshly" Christians over whom sin still has power. The goal is of course to end this oxymoronic state of "carnal Christians," for Christians to "become what they are."
More on this idea in a moment. But first, we should ask whether the book of Acts entails exactly such an experience where one goes from being carnal to spiritual. We note right off the bat that Acts never uses these categories in this way. But the holiness tradition after Wesley, under the influence of Phoebe Palmer and the "John Fletcher" branch of Wesley's heirs, institutionalized a moment of "entire sanctification" in conjunction with the spirit fillings of the book of Acts. I can scarcely go too much farther before I discuss the "baptism of the Holy Spirit" in Acts.
We are at a difficult point today with regard to this way of viewing entire sanctification. You will hardly find any New Testament scholar who reads the spirit fillings of Acts in this way, even at institutions from the holiness tradition. You won't find anyone espousing this view who wasn't taught it by someone else. In other words, no one would come to this conclusion on the basis of the book of Acts itself--those who see it in Acts come to the text with this interpretation already in hand.
In the world of Luke-Acts, the Day of Pentecost is the arrival of the Spirit promised in Luke 3:16. In Luke-Acts, no one has received the Holy Spirit yet before Pentecost, for this is the very arrival of the Spirit in the Christian sense, the very fulfillment of the prophecy made by John the Baptist.
In Acts 19:1-7, Paul does not consider the water baptism of John sufficient to make a person a "Christian." He has certain individuals rebaptized in the name of Jesus even though they were already baptized by John. It is only then that they receive the Holy Spirit. These individuals are baptized in the name of Jesus and receive the Holy Spirit in one foul swoop.
Similarly, the Roman soldiers of Acts 10 have never believed on Christ before they receive the Holy Spirit in Acts 10. Indeed, they receive the Holy Spirit before they are baptized as Christians. We must again see them receiving the Spirit and becoming a Christian as associated experiences.
The Samaritans of Acts 8 are the only ones in Acts where we have the Spirit coming significantly after baptism, and Acts seems to treat the situation as unusual (cf. Acts 8:14-17). The disciples themselves have to go up to Samaria so they can receive the Holy Spirit.
We therefore are on flimsy ground to consider the disciples to be Christians already on the Day of Pentecost, even though they were baptized by John. According to Paul in his writings (e.g., Rom. 8:9; 2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5), a person cannot be a Christian without the Holy Spirit. In that sense, no one can technically be called a Christian until the Day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit comes for the first time in this way (unless you want to count Jesus' own baptism).
Some might want to bring in John here (John 20:22) and say that the disciples had received the initial coming of the Holy Spirit already. This is of course a pre-modern argument that doesn't read each gospel on its own terms. But if I have to play the pre-modern game, the text of John doesn't say that they actually received the Holy Spirit at that moment. I personally believe that this is a kind of symbolic allusion to Pentecost and that Jesus "breathing" on them does indeed symbolize them receiving the Spirit of Christ. Comparing John with the other gospels shows that it is kind of like the "New Living Translation" of Jesus, so we should not be surprised that John presents Pentecost somewhat allusively.
The key and programmatic verse on this subject in Acts is of course Acts 2:38: "Repent and let each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." The first part is obviously about becoming a Christian, and the last part says nothing like "and after a while, after you die to self, you will have the experience of entire sanctification." The most natural way of reading the verse is to see all these items in association with becoming a Christian: 1) repentance, 2) baptism, 3) receiving the Holy Spirit.
In short, you will only find entire sanctification in any of these verses if you come to the text with it in hand. The term "the fulness of the Spirit" is a nice one that I actually like (more in a moment), but it is not a biblical term. Acts uses phrases like "receiving" the Spirit, the "baptism" of the Spirit, being "filled" with the Spirit interchangably.
So in what way can we speak of entire sanctification experientially? Let me start by recapping some of the conclusions I've already reached in this process:
1. The New Testament consistently considers sin incompatible with the nature of a Christian. In theory, a Christian should not sin or be under the flesh.
2. In practice, we often find Christians for whom #1 is not the case, even though it should be.
While we are now speaking logically and experientially, we can suggest that many Christians may find themselves at a point in their life where they sense they need to move to the next level in their spiritual pilgrimage. We know that despite the fact that Paul was not speaking of a Christian, many identify with his comment that "the good I want to do I don't do." Many Christians find themselves to struggle with matters of the flesh.
It is at these points that the language we have used in our tradition, while not exactly biblical, still makes sense.
Entire Sanctification: Of course every aspect of our lives has to be consigned to the realm of the holy. Everything in our lives needs to belong to our God. If you refuse to surrender everything to God, there will be a point where a "sin unto death" stands around the corner. God demands everything. If you don't eventually surrender, you have exposed the crucified Christ to public disgrace. God will not stand for it.
It makes sense to come to a point of commitment where you surrender everything to God. Logically, such surrender takes place at a point in time, even if you aren't aware of the exact moment. Wesley used the image of death. There is a time when you know a person is alive and a point when you know someone is dead. The exact moment of transition may be indiscernable.
Of course once we have said this, we recognize that new things come into our lives that have to be surrendered. Old issues that we had surrendered can resurface. Life is complicated.
Fulness of the Holy Spirit: While Acts only uses the image of being "filled" with the Holy Spirit, the image of being completely full--"the fulness"--works. If you are only half God's, then how could you be "full" of His Spirit? This language highlights something that our sense of "complete consecration" doesn't, namely, that ultimately being under the power of the Spirit is something that requires God's action. It is not something we can simply do by act of our will.
It is at this point that we can return to Paul's imagery of becoming a slave to righteousness and becoming free from the law of sin and death. I don't think Paul is setting down a process here, but he is giving us the goal. Whatever it might mean truly to be under the power of God's Spirit to where a person can fulfill the righteous requirement of the law--it must be something like what our tradition has called entire sanctification. And if the fulfilment of the law is love, then it must have looked something like what John Wesley called perfect love.
I entitled this series, "Why I believe in victory over sin" because that is what I think it all comes down to. I believe that a Christian can live consistently victorious over temptation. I believe that a Christian can be "perfect" in the sense of consistently "acting" both in thought and mind in accordance to that which you know to be the right or to avoid that which you know to be the wrong.
I further believe that God will change our attitudes as well. I believe that we can become more and more loving as time goes by in feeling as well as action. I believe that even our feelings and spontaneous reactions can become ever more Christ-like. The current pessimistic view of sin in the life of believer simply isn't biblical--and it doesn't show much confidence in the power of God either.
I believe in victory over temptation and sin.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Victory Over Sin 5: Paul and Flesh
You may have noticed that what the NIV translates as "sinful nature," I have consistently translated as "flesh." In my opinion, this move on the part of the NIV can perpetuate misunderstandings.
Although Paul can say that "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8), it is clear enough that there is a connection between physical flesh and Paul's use of this word. Otherwise, why would Paul use it? There is an overlap on some level between our mortal bodies, our flesh, and our "members" as Paul talks about them. On the other hand, there is a point in Paul's argument where flesh becomes a metaphor for "bodies under the power of sin," and of this a person can be free.
As far as I can tell, the idea of a sinful nature is an Augustinian invention. And in holiness circles it eventually gave rise to questions over whether the sinful nature could be "eradicated" or whether it was only "suppressed" in an experience we call "entire sanctification." If indeed the whole "nature" discussion is slightly misleading, then it may very well be that this entire discussion is a bit of a rabbit trail.
Sin for Paul was more a power than a nature. It may work on my members and on my physical flesh, but Paul can also talk about it in distinction from my members and my flesh.
Let's hone in on what Paul understood "the flesh" to be, remembering that God inspired him to speak within the categories of his own ancient worldview. To give an example, we should not be surprised or troubled that Paul could speak of being caught up to the "third heaven," as if you went straight up through three layers of sky to God (cf. 2 Cor. 12:2). After all, that's the way many Jews in Paul's day pictured the universe. Why wouldn't God speak to Paul in the categories he understood?
Similarly, we should not be surprised that the truth of Paul's message comes to us in the garp of not a little ancient psychology. It is as inappropriate to build a precise human psychology off of Paul as it is to contruct a precise picture of the cosmos from his words. After all, Paul's imagery of human psychology is different from Genesis and other parts of the Bible that come from other periods of history when even different pictures of human psychology were in play. For example, "soul" in Genesis refers to the entirety of a living being (including the sea creatures of Genesis 1). These were not the points of inspiration God was making but the "clothing" in which He was revealing His message to people with particular worldviews, meeting them where they were at in their own categories.
The starting point for understanding what Paul means by "the flesh" is clearly our physical bodies. A careful examination of the comments Paul makes throughout his writings reflects a sense that what we think of as the physical world--including our physical bodies--is subject to the powers of sin. Paul thus says in Romans 8:20:
"For the creation was subjected to futility, not willfully but in hope, because of the One subjecting it. Because even the creation itself will be freed from the slavery of corruption to the freedom of the glory of the children of God."
Part of the subjection of the creation to the slavery of corruption is the subjection of the elements of the world to the power of sin. Paul alludes to this power sin has over the elements in Galatians 4:3-5:
"We, when we were infants, had been enslaved under the elements of the world. But when the fulness of time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, in order that He might redeem those under the Law, in order that we might receive the adoption."
Again, I do not fully understand what Paul is thinking here. But he connects the power of sin by way of the Law to the physical nature of the universe, the elements of the world. The antidote is the Spirit. Paul continues:
"But because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts crying, 'Abba,' [which means] Father" (Gal. 4:6)
As a side note, Paul is not talking about a second work of grace here. The most fundamental use of Spirit for Paul is in the very entrance into sonship. As he says in Romans 8:9: "If someone does not have the Spirit of Christ, this one is not of him." One of the most unfortunate misunderstandings I had as a child was my impression that we first receive the Holy Spirit at entire sanctification. This of course is not what the Wesleyan Church actually teaches, since the Wesleyan Church teaches that we initially receive the Holy Spirit at the time of "initial sanctification" when we first come to Christ.
Although Paul can say that "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8), it is clear enough that there is a connection between physical flesh and Paul's use of this word. Otherwise, why would Paul use it? There is an overlap on some level between our mortal bodies, our flesh, and our "members" as Paul talks about them. On the other hand, there is a point in Paul's argument where flesh becomes a metaphor for "bodies under the power of sin," and of this a person can be free.
As far as I can tell, the idea of a sinful nature is an Augustinian invention. And in holiness circles it eventually gave rise to questions over whether the sinful nature could be "eradicated" or whether it was only "suppressed" in an experience we call "entire sanctification." If indeed the whole "nature" discussion is slightly misleading, then it may very well be that this entire discussion is a bit of a rabbit trail.
Sin for Paul was more a power than a nature. It may work on my members and on my physical flesh, but Paul can also talk about it in distinction from my members and my flesh.
Let's hone in on what Paul understood "the flesh" to be, remembering that God inspired him to speak within the categories of his own ancient worldview. To give an example, we should not be surprised or troubled that Paul could speak of being caught up to the "third heaven," as if you went straight up through three layers of sky to God (cf. 2 Cor. 12:2). After all, that's the way many Jews in Paul's day pictured the universe. Why wouldn't God speak to Paul in the categories he understood?
Similarly, we should not be surprised that the truth of Paul's message comes to us in the garp of not a little ancient psychology. It is as inappropriate to build a precise human psychology off of Paul as it is to contruct a precise picture of the cosmos from his words. After all, Paul's imagery of human psychology is different from Genesis and other parts of the Bible that come from other periods of history when even different pictures of human psychology were in play. For example, "soul" in Genesis refers to the entirety of a living being (including the sea creatures of Genesis 1). These were not the points of inspiration God was making but the "clothing" in which He was revealing His message to people with particular worldviews, meeting them where they were at in their own categories.
The starting point for understanding what Paul means by "the flesh" is clearly our physical bodies. A careful examination of the comments Paul makes throughout his writings reflects a sense that what we think of as the physical world--including our physical bodies--is subject to the powers of sin. Paul thus says in Romans 8:20:
"For the creation was subjected to futility, not willfully but in hope, because of the One subjecting it. Because even the creation itself will be freed from the slavery of corruption to the freedom of the glory of the children of God."
Part of the subjection of the creation to the slavery of corruption is the subjection of the elements of the world to the power of sin. Paul alludes to this power sin has over the elements in Galatians 4:3-5:
"We, when we were infants, had been enslaved under the elements of the world. But when the fulness of time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, in order that He might redeem those under the Law, in order that we might receive the adoption."
Again, I do not fully understand what Paul is thinking here. But he connects the power of sin by way of the Law to the physical nature of the universe, the elements of the world. The antidote is the Spirit. Paul continues:
"But because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts crying, 'Abba,' [which means] Father" (Gal. 4:6)
As a side note, Paul is not talking about a second work of grace here. The most fundamental use of Spirit for Paul is in the very entrance into sonship. As he says in Romans 8:9: "If someone does not have the Spirit of Christ, this one is not of him." One of the most unfortunate misunderstandings I had as a child was my impression that we first receive the Holy Spirit at entire sanctification. This of course is not what the Wesleyan Church actually teaches, since the Wesleyan Church teaches that we initially receive the Holy Spirit at the time of "initial sanctification" when we first come to Christ.
But it seems to me that the holiness tradition has historically focused so much on our concept of the "fulness" of the Spirit in entire sanctification that we sometimes fail to hear the way Paul talks about the Spirit. Paul sees the Holy Spirit as the very threshhold of becoming a Christian, the "seal" of God's ownership (2 Cor. 1:22) and the downpayment and guarantee of our heavenly destiny (2 Cor. 5:5). This is one aspect of our teaching that I think has tended to be somewhat out of biblical focus.
If my body is subject to the power of sin through the commandments of the Law, the Holy Spirit is the "stuff of heaven" inside of me that frees me from this power and enslaves me to righteousness. This is a kind of "sanctification," as 2 Thessalonians 2:13 speaks of how God chose the Thessalonians for salvation "by the sanctification of the Spirit and by faith in the truth" (I should note that Paul is talking about the Thessalonian church collectively here).
Paul can use sanctification language not only in reference to the event of coming to Christ, as in this verse, but he can speak of the carnal, fleshly Corinthians (1 Cor. 1:2) and even of non-Christian spouses who are married to believers (1 Cor. 7:14) as "sanctified." If we remain true to the biblical text, we will have to find a way to define sanctification so that it accommodates passages like these.
Sanctification refers primarily to becoming associated with a god and thus becoming holy, dedicated and belonging to a deity. The temple prostitutes of pagan gods were thus considered holy to those gods. The term has as much of a "feel" to it as a logical meaning. I think of something that is radioactive and that you approach it with caution. Or think of how careful you would be around a bully or abusive person's stuff. There is an aura around it that makes you careful and cautious.
How much more so with God! The holiness of God led Isaiah to fall on his face in Isaiah 6. The holiness of Mt. Sinai meant that animals that wandered onto it had to be stoned. When we are in association with the Holy Spirit, there is a God-ness about us that means something, not least a freedom from the power that is in conflict with the Spirit, namely, the power of sin.
The sanctification of an unbelieving spouse or of the children of such a marriage is thus more than some banal influence on them. It is a "spiritual zone" around the believer that actually makes it more likely that the spouse and children will come to Christ and that they will be less under the power of sin--even if they are not saved in the end (1 Cor. 7:14).
The Corinthians, as carnal as they are, are still in the "spiritual zone" that is the church at Corinth. They are the temple of God (1 Cor. 3:16). There is an uncleanness that is contagious as well, and Paul commands the man sleeping with his step-mother be cast out of the church at delivered back to the world, where Satan is in control (1 Cor. 5:5). There his flesh will again come under the power of Satan. But Paul hopes that his spirit might turn around and eventually be saved as a result.
Paul can also speak of a kind of "entire sanctification" when he prays that the Thessalonians' whole spirit, soul, and body might be sanctified (1 Thess. 5:23). Of course the "you" is plural here. Paul is not presenting some individualistic or standardized experience in this verse.
But I think it is legitimate for us to connect the dots as John Wesley did. These passages do not seem to institutionalize a definite, instantaneous experience subsequent to coming to faith. But they connect sanctification to being possessed of God's Spirit and they imply that such a person is not a slave to sin. In the next entry we'll talk about how this sets us up to urge Christians toward the sanctification of their entire being, in connection with not being in the flesh. We can still preach entire sanctification as the logical conclusion of Paul's theology even if he did not formulate it precisely in the terms our tradition has used in the past.
But before moving on to consider how this theology might play itself out in Christian experience today, I must finish discussing how Paul views flesh.
It is clear that a person's literal flesh for Paul is that part of us that is most susceptible to the power of sin and Satan. The law is also the power of sin as it seems to exacerbate the human tendency to sin (1 Cor. 15:56).
By contrast, the Spirit is the antidote to the flesh. The law of the Spirit sets us free from the law of sin and death (Rom. 8:2). Through the Spirit we can fulfill the righteous requirement of the Law (Rom. 8:4), which is love (Rom. 13:10). Such a person is led by the Spirit, not by the flesh (Gal. 5:16; Rom. 8:9). We can even say, somewhat metaphorically, that such a person is no longer "in the flesh," for those who are in the flesh cannot please God (Rom. 8:8).
Clearly a person's ability to live above sin and tempation is linked to the presence of the Spirit in their lives. At the same time, we will always have our mortal bodies with us as well until the resurrection. In that sense, the "flesh" is only as far away as our bodies, just as righteousness is only as far away as the Holy Spirit. Again, there is great potential for something like our doctrine of entire sanctification in these observations.
Of course we might use different imagery if we were to express these truths in our current worldview. We at least think we know a great deal about the brain, for example. While desires may not be limited to chemical reactions in my brain, no one today could deny that such biochemical processes are a major part of desires and choices. A colleague of mine in the psychology department tells me that it might be possible to stimulate certain parts of the frontal lobe to where a person would feel they were experiencing God. He does not deny that God actually interacts with us, only that there is a physical dimension to religious experiences in our brains.
I am willing to say that when God's Spirit takes hold of us, He actually changes the structure of our minds physically. These are not areas of my expertise, so I'll leave these musings to Christian doctors and psychologists.
My point is biblical. Paul believes that the Holy Spirit empowers us to be victorious over sin and temptation. The default human state is to be "in the flesh," a situation in which a person cannot do the good even if they want to do it. In the next entry I want to discuss what kind of a theology of experience we might build out of these building blocks from Paul.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Victory Over Sin 4: Paul and Romans 7
Martin Marty wrote several decades ago of the "Baptistification" of American Christianity. This trend and melting of Christianity into a generally Baptist ethos continues today. Marty's Christianity Today article focused particularly on the move away from infant baptism in American even in churches that historically baptized infants. I would add to this list churches such as our own (the Wesleyan) that find increasing grass roots opposition to women in ministry, not to mention the general sense in America that true Christians vote Republican and take well defined positions on any number of political and social issues.
And while many are proud to say that they attend "non-denominational" churches, these churches are really specimens of a Baptistified American Christian tradition. They are not Catholic; they are not Methodist; they are a Baptist base with a few modifications from other traditions. I would strongly disagree with the false impression that they are free of the denominational divides over theology from earlier days. They are simply a congregational "denomination" whose connections are cultural and theological rather than structural. The Message as a "translation" and The Purpose Driven Life as a catechism give us a lovely snapshot of the status quo in the non-denominational denomination of which I speak. David and John Drury have a great unpublished article on The Purpose Driven Life as the current catechism of American evangelical Christianity (see www.drurywriting.com/david).
By the way, I had to laugh recently after reading a quote from the Message. I thought "That's an interesting verse. Where is that in the Bible?" It was a verse from Ephesians and what was funny is that I had just taught a course on Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon. Frankly, I think Paul would have the same reaction to the Message--That's interesting, who said that? It is the most culturally driven translation I know of.
I might add as a footnote that we and other groups have had some influence on the Baptist tradition as well. Most Baptists believe in free will and in the possibility of knowing you are "saved." These are not natural Baptist elements--they are foreign elements that actually remove the philosophical foundations of what they now call "eternal security," something distinct from the original "perseverence of the saints." These changes reflect the influence of Arminian traditions on the Baptist tradition. Similarly, I wonder if the Lutheran influence in relation to the faith/works debate has led to the general sense that "all sins are the same" and "I'm not perfect just forgiven."
It is this last part of the "Christian bookstore meltdown" that I want to address. I find even Wesleyan pastors who base their understanding of sin in the life of a believer on Romans 7:15: "What I want to do I don't do, but what I hate, that I do." I believe the reason this sentiment has won the day in American Christianity is because it resonates with our experience to the very core. This verse is how most American Christians feel. I want to do the right thing, but it just seems like I'm always doing exactly the opposite of what I want to do. I just always feel like a failure at doing the things that please God.
Now I personally don't feel that way about myself really. And I don't say that because I want to be the poster child for moral victory. I'm telling you this because what I did at the end of the last paragraph is exactly what Paul does in Romans 7:7-25--he is putting himself in the shoes of the person under the Law who wants to keep the Law but is unable because of the power of sin. He is not talking about his own current struggle to be victorious over sin or about some ongoing defeatism in the Christian life over sin. But in our pre-modern glory, our tendency is to read verses in isolation from their context as bumper stickers and memory verses. To do so in this case would be to misunderstand Paul, indeed to make the text say the opposite of the point Paul was actually trying to make.
This is an atrocious misreading of Paul!!! It requires us to rip these words from a sustained argument Paul is making against being a slave to sin and in explanation of the role the Law used to play before the coming of Christ. It results in reading Paul's words in a way diametrically opposed to his actual argument. Whether we can live up to Paul's theology is a different question, but what Paul was saying in this regard is overwhelmingly clear in the overall context of Romans 6-8.
To understand the section 7:7-25, we must go back to Romans 6 and even before. Paul's style in Romans is to make a point and then ask questions about that point either to bolster his point or to make sure his audience does not misunderstand him or draw the wrong conclusions from the point. In this case, Paul has made the comment that "where sin was abundant, grace was superabundant" (5:20). Paul knew what people were accusing him of. They were saying he taught, "Let us do evil things so that good things will come" (3:8).
Paul heads this objection off at the pass. "What will we say, therefore? Should we sin so that grace might be abundant? God forbid. How will we who have died to sin still live in it?" (6:1-2). Paul dedicates the rest of chapters 6 and 7 to this issue and the matter of where the Jewish Law plays into it all. From this comment alone we can see what Paul's position on this issue is. There is no ambiguity. Those who have died to sin should not continue to sin. If you conclude that Paul sees sin as the norm of a Christian's life, you have a lot of explaining to do.
I have been amazed at how difficult it is for some to accept that this is in fact what Paul is saying. I have had online students explore the contrast in Romans 6 between being a slave to sin and being a slave to righteousness. I inevitably have several who will conclude something like, "While Paul seems to say in these verses that a Christian is no longer a slave to sin, we know from Romans 7:7ff that he can't really mean this." Poppycock. If we are to conclude differently, we must do it in theology or experience class. Paul himself will have none of it. "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free [past tense, something that should already have happened] from the law of sin and death" (Rom. 8:1).
Again, Paul's meaning in Romans 6 is not ambiguous in the slightest:
"For when you were [past tense] slaves of sin, you were free to righteousness... But now [present] that you have been freed [past tense] from sin and enslaved to God [past tense] you have [present tense] the fruit unto holiness, and [in] the end [you will have] eternal life" (Rom. 6:20, 22).
Paul is clearly talking about actions. He uses the word "fruit" in this passage in reference to how you live (cf. the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians). In 6:12 he has clearly connected the discussion to lifestyle when he says, "Do not let sin rule in your mortal body with the result that you obey its desires." In short, this chapter is no Lutheran "legal fiction" where God considers us righteous even though we are really still sinners through and through. This passage is about the rule of forces in a person's manner of living. The person enslaved to sin presents their members "to sin as instruments of unrighteousness" (6:13). The person enslaved to God presents their members "to God as instruments of righteousness."
There is not the slightest ambiguity in Paul's thought here. Christians should not be slaves to sin and thereby producing unrighteousness in their lives. Christians should be slaves to righteousness and producing a holy fruit in their lives. If you think Paul sees sin as the norm of a Christian's life, you have a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter 7 continues this theme, this time discussing the role of the Law in the equation. This was a sore point because Paul seemed to be bucking the Old Testament when he told people they were not under the Jewish Law. He seemed to be throwing away the very covenant between God and Israel that stood at the heart of the OT. This was one of the main reasons Paul wrote Romans, to assure the Roman Christians that he in fact believed that God remained righteous both in relation to Israel and the world: "I am not ashamed of the gospel... in it the righteousness of God is revealed..." (Rom. 1:16-17).
The place of the Law in Paul's theology is a difficult issue for me and many others to nail down. I feel like Luther's attempt to see it strictly in legal terms--a standard that God simply doesn't use any more--was a noble failure. In contrast, in some way I don't fully understand, Paul saw the law as a catalyst for sin's power. As he says in 1 Corinthians 15:56, "Sin is the sting of death, and the Law is the power of sin." I don't quite know how it all works, but not to be "under the law" for Paul means that in some way sin no longer has power over you the way it did before (cf. Rom. 6:14). It is not just a matter of legality. For Paul it involves a very real freedom from the power of sin that had been exacerbated by the Law.
Paul begins Romans 7 with the claim that people are only under the law as long as they are alive. Since we have died with Christ, we are no longer under the Law. But the verses of most interest to us are Romans 7:5-6, which repeat the same things Paul has already said in Romans 6:
"For when we were [past tense] in the flesh, the passions of sins through the Law were working [past tense] in our members, with the result that we bore fruit to death.
"But now [present] we have been set free from the law [past tense] by which we were being held [past tense], having died, with the result that we serve in newness of Spirit and not in the oldness of the letter"
Again, Paul is talking about actions, not about some theological fiction. We (including Paul) were in the flesh, and the power of sin worked through the Law in some way that led to sinful actions. But now that we are not under the Law, sin does not hold this power over our members, and we can now serve in newness of Spirit. Once again, if you think Paul sees sin as the norm of a Christian's life, you have a lot of explaining to do.
These verses are key to understanding Romans 7:7-25, for this passage expands on the concept of the first verse: "When we were in the flesh, the passions of sins through the Law were working in our members, with the result that we bore fruit to death." Paul answers two questions.
Question 1: "Is the Law sin?" (7:7). Paul, are you saying that the Law is actually evil? No. Paul explains that the law itself "is holy and the commandment is holy and just and good" (7:12). Rather sin took [past tense] opportunity through the commandment to bring about all kinds of desires (7:8).
As a footnote, I'm taking Paul slightly out of context in the way I'm presenting his thought here. Paul believed that he and the Romans lived at the turning of the ages, in the fulness of time (Gal. 4:4-5). There was a sense in which the world ceased to be "under the Law" when Christ came in the fulness of time. We might want to factor this element into our equation in the next entry.
Question 2: "Did the good [the Law] become [past tense] death to me?" (7:13). No. "But sin, in order that it might appear as sin, was working death through the good [the Law] in order that sin might become incredibly sinful through the commandment" (7:13). We note again that this entire discussion has taken place in the past tense. Paul is speaking of what was true of a Jew in particular ("those who know the Law" 7:1) before Christ.
We now enter the debated zone, 7:14-24.
"For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am fleshly, having been sold under sin" (7:14).
It is true that Paul was in flesh when he wrote these words, for he was in his body. But Paul cannot mean that he is currently "sold under sin" unless everything he has said up to this point was a lie, a farse.
To be "sold under sin" is an equivalent phrase to being a "slave to sin." Paul has clearly identified this state to the period before a person comes to Christ. Let's review:
"When you were slaves of sin... But now since you have been freed from sin..." (6:20, 22). This verse clearly locates being sold under sin as a condition prior to Christianity.
"When we were in the flesh, the passions of sins used to work in our members bearing fruit to death, but now we are released from the Law..." (7:5-6). Again, this verse clearly locates being in the flesh to the time before we died with Christ.
How about the verse right before 7:14: "Did the good [the Law] become death to me?" Again, Paul is talking about something true of their past.
Let's move forward and look to the end of Paul's argument, after he has finished the verses of 7:14-24: "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has freed you [past tense] from the law of sin and death..." (8:2).
I give up if you still think Paul is talking about his current experience after such clear indicators from the context. Anyone who still wants to see 7:14 as a statement of Paul's current experience clearly doesn't care about what Paul was actually trying to say. They're only interested in reinforcing what they already believe.
Paul's statement in 7:14, as well as in 7:25, is a description of the default human state: "sold under sin." Before Christ, a Jew might have wanted to keep the Jewish law, but because the Spirit was not in force, they would have been unable to do so. Such a person might have said something like 7:25: "With my mind I serve the Law of God, but with my flesh the Law of sin." Since Paul goes on in 8:2 to say we are free from the law of sin and death, 7:25 cannot be a statement of Paul's current experience or the default state of a Christian. Paul is speaking of the person without the Spirit who wants to keep the Jewish Law but is unable to do so because of their flesh, something 7:5-6 and 8:8 tell us Christians are not "in."
Such a person might say something like 7:15: "I do not practice what I want, but I do what I hate." The reason is exactly what Paul has been saying throughout this whole section. Sin is taking opportunity through the commandment (e.g., 7:8, 11). Remember that he was speaking past tense then. Also here he is putting himself into that person's shoes: "I see a different law in my members, striving against the Law of my mind and warring against me by the Law of sin which is in my members" (7:23).
Again, Paul has already spoken several times of this working in my members in the past tense (e.g., 7:5). I am so tired of the response, "But Paul is speaking in the present tense." Yes, but it is a beginner's perspective on language to conclude that the present tense always means present time. I used the present tense above to make a theological point that was not true of my current experience. Take one joke introduction, "A man walks up to you and says..." No one thinks the speaker is talking about something that is happening right then. This is not a good argument at all, especially if you pay any attention at all to Paul's train of thought everywhere in this unit!
Notice the fevered pitch he reaches in his dramatic portrayal of the person who wants to keep the Law but is a slave to sin: "A wretched man am I! Who will rescue me from the body of this death?"
So many stop here. Paul is begging you today to go on to the resolution: "Thanks be to God! Through Jesus Christ our Lord [I am freed from the body of this death]."
Romans 8 begins with the victory song over the accomplishment of the "impossibility" of Romans 7:14-24: "There is therefore now no condemnation to those in Christ Jesus [the person in 7:14-24 was not in Christ Jesus], for the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death [that we were just talking about]." The festivities continue: "The impossibility of the Law in that it was weak because of the flesh... God condemned this sin in the flesh" (8:3).
In fact, now "the righteous requirement of the Law may be fulfilled in us who walk not according to the flesh, but according to Spirit" (8:4). Walking is the Jewish way of talking about ethics--how you live. This is no theological fiction where the Christian is like Luther's dictum: "At the same time sinner and righteous as long as you're always repenting." Hogwash! Paul's meaning is not ambigous in the slightest about the appropriateness of sin in the life of a believer. In the end, "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (8:8).
So what is Paul's position on sin in the life of a believer. It really isn't that hard of a question. He answered it way back in Romans 6:15: "Should we sin, because we are not under Law but under grace? No, what are you crazy?" (the last line's a Schenck paraphrase).
Now I know that we must take experience into account and after I have spelled out what Paul has said here, we still have to work out a practical theology of sin. But the theory seems pretty clear. I remain dumbfounded at the prevailing popular interpretation of Romans 7 with all its defeatism.
In short, Paul has no theology that expects sin to typify the life of a believer. In the next entry, we'll discuss what we might do today with Paul's concept of flesh, especially in view of the "sin nature" arguments of later centuries...
And while many are proud to say that they attend "non-denominational" churches, these churches are really specimens of a Baptistified American Christian tradition. They are not Catholic; they are not Methodist; they are a Baptist base with a few modifications from other traditions. I would strongly disagree with the false impression that they are free of the denominational divides over theology from earlier days. They are simply a congregational "denomination" whose connections are cultural and theological rather than structural. The Message as a "translation" and The Purpose Driven Life as a catechism give us a lovely snapshot of the status quo in the non-denominational denomination of which I speak. David and John Drury have a great unpublished article on The Purpose Driven Life as the current catechism of American evangelical Christianity (see www.drurywriting.com/david).
By the way, I had to laugh recently after reading a quote from the Message. I thought "That's an interesting verse. Where is that in the Bible?" It was a verse from Ephesians and what was funny is that I had just taught a course on Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon. Frankly, I think Paul would have the same reaction to the Message--That's interesting, who said that? It is the most culturally driven translation I know of.
I might add as a footnote that we and other groups have had some influence on the Baptist tradition as well. Most Baptists believe in free will and in the possibility of knowing you are "saved." These are not natural Baptist elements--they are foreign elements that actually remove the philosophical foundations of what they now call "eternal security," something distinct from the original "perseverence of the saints." These changes reflect the influence of Arminian traditions on the Baptist tradition. Similarly, I wonder if the Lutheran influence in relation to the faith/works debate has led to the general sense that "all sins are the same" and "I'm not perfect just forgiven."
It is this last part of the "Christian bookstore meltdown" that I want to address. I find even Wesleyan pastors who base their understanding of sin in the life of a believer on Romans 7:15: "What I want to do I don't do, but what I hate, that I do." I believe the reason this sentiment has won the day in American Christianity is because it resonates with our experience to the very core. This verse is how most American Christians feel. I want to do the right thing, but it just seems like I'm always doing exactly the opposite of what I want to do. I just always feel like a failure at doing the things that please God.
Now I personally don't feel that way about myself really. And I don't say that because I want to be the poster child for moral victory. I'm telling you this because what I did at the end of the last paragraph is exactly what Paul does in Romans 7:7-25--he is putting himself in the shoes of the person under the Law who wants to keep the Law but is unable because of the power of sin. He is not talking about his own current struggle to be victorious over sin or about some ongoing defeatism in the Christian life over sin. But in our pre-modern glory, our tendency is to read verses in isolation from their context as bumper stickers and memory verses. To do so in this case would be to misunderstand Paul, indeed to make the text say the opposite of the point Paul was actually trying to make.
This is an atrocious misreading of Paul!!! It requires us to rip these words from a sustained argument Paul is making against being a slave to sin and in explanation of the role the Law used to play before the coming of Christ. It results in reading Paul's words in a way diametrically opposed to his actual argument. Whether we can live up to Paul's theology is a different question, but what Paul was saying in this regard is overwhelmingly clear in the overall context of Romans 6-8.
To understand the section 7:7-25, we must go back to Romans 6 and even before. Paul's style in Romans is to make a point and then ask questions about that point either to bolster his point or to make sure his audience does not misunderstand him or draw the wrong conclusions from the point. In this case, Paul has made the comment that "where sin was abundant, grace was superabundant" (5:20). Paul knew what people were accusing him of. They were saying he taught, "Let us do evil things so that good things will come" (3:8).
Paul heads this objection off at the pass. "What will we say, therefore? Should we sin so that grace might be abundant? God forbid. How will we who have died to sin still live in it?" (6:1-2). Paul dedicates the rest of chapters 6 and 7 to this issue and the matter of where the Jewish Law plays into it all. From this comment alone we can see what Paul's position on this issue is. There is no ambiguity. Those who have died to sin should not continue to sin. If you conclude that Paul sees sin as the norm of a Christian's life, you have a lot of explaining to do.
I have been amazed at how difficult it is for some to accept that this is in fact what Paul is saying. I have had online students explore the contrast in Romans 6 between being a slave to sin and being a slave to righteousness. I inevitably have several who will conclude something like, "While Paul seems to say in these verses that a Christian is no longer a slave to sin, we know from Romans 7:7ff that he can't really mean this." Poppycock. If we are to conclude differently, we must do it in theology or experience class. Paul himself will have none of it. "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free [past tense, something that should already have happened] from the law of sin and death" (Rom. 8:1).
Again, Paul's meaning in Romans 6 is not ambiguous in the slightest:
"For when you were [past tense] slaves of sin, you were free to righteousness... But now [present] that you have been freed [past tense] from sin and enslaved to God [past tense] you have [present tense] the fruit unto holiness, and [in] the end [you will have] eternal life" (Rom. 6:20, 22).
Paul is clearly talking about actions. He uses the word "fruit" in this passage in reference to how you live (cf. the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians). In 6:12 he has clearly connected the discussion to lifestyle when he says, "Do not let sin rule in your mortal body with the result that you obey its desires." In short, this chapter is no Lutheran "legal fiction" where God considers us righteous even though we are really still sinners through and through. This passage is about the rule of forces in a person's manner of living. The person enslaved to sin presents their members "to sin as instruments of unrighteousness" (6:13). The person enslaved to God presents their members "to God as instruments of righteousness."
There is not the slightest ambiguity in Paul's thought here. Christians should not be slaves to sin and thereby producing unrighteousness in their lives. Christians should be slaves to righteousness and producing a holy fruit in their lives. If you think Paul sees sin as the norm of a Christian's life, you have a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter 7 continues this theme, this time discussing the role of the Law in the equation. This was a sore point because Paul seemed to be bucking the Old Testament when he told people they were not under the Jewish Law. He seemed to be throwing away the very covenant between God and Israel that stood at the heart of the OT. This was one of the main reasons Paul wrote Romans, to assure the Roman Christians that he in fact believed that God remained righteous both in relation to Israel and the world: "I am not ashamed of the gospel... in it the righteousness of God is revealed..." (Rom. 1:16-17).
The place of the Law in Paul's theology is a difficult issue for me and many others to nail down. I feel like Luther's attempt to see it strictly in legal terms--a standard that God simply doesn't use any more--was a noble failure. In contrast, in some way I don't fully understand, Paul saw the law as a catalyst for sin's power. As he says in 1 Corinthians 15:56, "Sin is the sting of death, and the Law is the power of sin." I don't quite know how it all works, but not to be "under the law" for Paul means that in some way sin no longer has power over you the way it did before (cf. Rom. 6:14). It is not just a matter of legality. For Paul it involves a very real freedom from the power of sin that had been exacerbated by the Law.
Paul begins Romans 7 with the claim that people are only under the law as long as they are alive. Since we have died with Christ, we are no longer under the Law. But the verses of most interest to us are Romans 7:5-6, which repeat the same things Paul has already said in Romans 6:
"For when we were [past tense] in the flesh, the passions of sins through the Law were working [past tense] in our members, with the result that we bore fruit to death.
"But now [present] we have been set free from the law [past tense] by which we were being held [past tense], having died, with the result that we serve in newness of Spirit and not in the oldness of the letter"
Again, Paul is talking about actions, not about some theological fiction. We (including Paul) were in the flesh, and the power of sin worked through the Law in some way that led to sinful actions. But now that we are not under the Law, sin does not hold this power over our members, and we can now serve in newness of Spirit. Once again, if you think Paul sees sin as the norm of a Christian's life, you have a lot of explaining to do.
These verses are key to understanding Romans 7:7-25, for this passage expands on the concept of the first verse: "When we were in the flesh, the passions of sins through the Law were working in our members, with the result that we bore fruit to death." Paul answers two questions.
Question 1: "Is the Law sin?" (7:7). Paul, are you saying that the Law is actually evil? No. Paul explains that the law itself "is holy and the commandment is holy and just and good" (7:12). Rather sin took [past tense] opportunity through the commandment to bring about all kinds of desires (7:8).
As a footnote, I'm taking Paul slightly out of context in the way I'm presenting his thought here. Paul believed that he and the Romans lived at the turning of the ages, in the fulness of time (Gal. 4:4-5). There was a sense in which the world ceased to be "under the Law" when Christ came in the fulness of time. We might want to factor this element into our equation in the next entry.
Question 2: "Did the good [the Law] become [past tense] death to me?" (7:13). No. "But sin, in order that it might appear as sin, was working death through the good [the Law] in order that sin might become incredibly sinful through the commandment" (7:13). We note again that this entire discussion has taken place in the past tense. Paul is speaking of what was true of a Jew in particular ("those who know the Law" 7:1) before Christ.
We now enter the debated zone, 7:14-24.
"For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am fleshly, having been sold under sin" (7:14).
It is true that Paul was in flesh when he wrote these words, for he was in his body. But Paul cannot mean that he is currently "sold under sin" unless everything he has said up to this point was a lie, a farse.
To be "sold under sin" is an equivalent phrase to being a "slave to sin." Paul has clearly identified this state to the period before a person comes to Christ. Let's review:
"When you were slaves of sin... But now since you have been freed from sin..." (6:20, 22). This verse clearly locates being sold under sin as a condition prior to Christianity.
"When we were in the flesh, the passions of sins used to work in our members bearing fruit to death, but now we are released from the Law..." (7:5-6). Again, this verse clearly locates being in the flesh to the time before we died with Christ.
How about the verse right before 7:14: "Did the good [the Law] become death to me?" Again, Paul is talking about something true of their past.
Let's move forward and look to the end of Paul's argument, after he has finished the verses of 7:14-24: "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has freed you [past tense] from the law of sin and death..." (8:2).
I give up if you still think Paul is talking about his current experience after such clear indicators from the context. Anyone who still wants to see 7:14 as a statement of Paul's current experience clearly doesn't care about what Paul was actually trying to say. They're only interested in reinforcing what they already believe.
Paul's statement in 7:14, as well as in 7:25, is a description of the default human state: "sold under sin." Before Christ, a Jew might have wanted to keep the Jewish law, but because the Spirit was not in force, they would have been unable to do so. Such a person might have said something like 7:25: "With my mind I serve the Law of God, but with my flesh the Law of sin." Since Paul goes on in 8:2 to say we are free from the law of sin and death, 7:25 cannot be a statement of Paul's current experience or the default state of a Christian. Paul is speaking of the person without the Spirit who wants to keep the Jewish Law but is unable to do so because of their flesh, something 7:5-6 and 8:8 tell us Christians are not "in."
Such a person might say something like 7:15: "I do not practice what I want, but I do what I hate." The reason is exactly what Paul has been saying throughout this whole section. Sin is taking opportunity through the commandment (e.g., 7:8, 11). Remember that he was speaking past tense then. Also here he is putting himself into that person's shoes: "I see a different law in my members, striving against the Law of my mind and warring against me by the Law of sin which is in my members" (7:23).
Again, Paul has already spoken several times of this working in my members in the past tense (e.g., 7:5). I am so tired of the response, "But Paul is speaking in the present tense." Yes, but it is a beginner's perspective on language to conclude that the present tense always means present time. I used the present tense above to make a theological point that was not true of my current experience. Take one joke introduction, "A man walks up to you and says..." No one thinks the speaker is talking about something that is happening right then. This is not a good argument at all, especially if you pay any attention at all to Paul's train of thought everywhere in this unit!
Notice the fevered pitch he reaches in his dramatic portrayal of the person who wants to keep the Law but is a slave to sin: "A wretched man am I! Who will rescue me from the body of this death?"
So many stop here. Paul is begging you today to go on to the resolution: "Thanks be to God! Through Jesus Christ our Lord [I am freed from the body of this death]."
Romans 8 begins with the victory song over the accomplishment of the "impossibility" of Romans 7:14-24: "There is therefore now no condemnation to those in Christ Jesus [the person in 7:14-24 was not in Christ Jesus], for the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death [that we were just talking about]." The festivities continue: "The impossibility of the Law in that it was weak because of the flesh... God condemned this sin in the flesh" (8:3).
In fact, now "the righteous requirement of the Law may be fulfilled in us who walk not according to the flesh, but according to Spirit" (8:4). Walking is the Jewish way of talking about ethics--how you live. This is no theological fiction where the Christian is like Luther's dictum: "At the same time sinner and righteous as long as you're always repenting." Hogwash! Paul's meaning is not ambigous in the slightest about the appropriateness of sin in the life of a believer. In the end, "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (8:8).
So what is Paul's position on sin in the life of a believer. It really isn't that hard of a question. He answered it way back in Romans 6:15: "Should we sin, because we are not under Law but under grace? No, what are you crazy?" (the last line's a Schenck paraphrase).
Now I know that we must take experience into account and after I have spelled out what Paul has said here, we still have to work out a practical theology of sin. But the theory seems pretty clear. I remain dumbfounded at the prevailing popular interpretation of Romans 7 with all its defeatism.
In short, Paul has no theology that expects sin to typify the life of a believer. In the next entry, we'll discuss what we might do today with Paul's concept of flesh, especially in view of the "sin nature" arguments of later centuries...
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Victory Over Sin 3: Introduction to Paul on Sin
With regard to the subject at hand, the part of 1 John that is most relevant is 3:9, John's comment that the person who has been born of God is not able to be sinning. I have taken this as a statement that sees sin as antithetical to the very "nature" of what it means to be a Christian. For John, it is certainly possible for a Christian to sin, but sin is something that needs forgiveness and some sins knock you right out of fellowship with God. John wrote so that his audience would not sin in the ways they were tempted, revealing sin's negative nature. Finally, love of the brothers is the antithesis of sin in 1 John.
What a radical statement 1 John 3:9 seems, that the person born of God cannot be sinning! Doesn't this flatly contradict what the apostle Paul has to say on this subject?
Nope. This is exactly Paul's position as well.
I begin with mention of 1 Corinthians 10:13, a memory verse for a Wesleyan child:
Temptation has not taken you except that which is human. But God is faithful who does not allow you to be tempted above what you are able, but He will also make an escape with the temptation, so that you are able to bear it.
Again, a "pre-modern" interpretation is one that is unaware that a text might be read differently than it strikes us, particularly that the original meaning might be different from the way it strikes us today.
[By the way, the key to "after modernism," "POST"-modernism, is the realization that we all--no matter how much we've studied--remain to some extent unaware of our assumptions. Thus no one except God is ever completely "modern" in his or her perspective. There's a little (or rather a lot) of "pre-modern" in all of us. This makes the terms pre-, post-, and modern labels somewhat less than precise, somewhat less helpful, and not a little condescending. I do not mean to use the term that way, although it does seem accurate to me to say that most Christians are vastly unaware of what it means to read the Bible's words in context.
It is this systematic and programmed unreflectivity that leads me to continue to use this term with regard to biblical interpretation. We can mark the rise of a better understanding of how to read the Bible in context to the period of the Enlightenment. I think we reject many of the values that went along with this Enlightenment perspective, that came to read the Bble's words as words are normally read rather than in magical ways. Nevertheless, the distinction between the original meaning and the "detached" way the words strike us in our traditions seems beyond question once a person understands this distinction.]
So what exactly was Paul talking about when he wrote these words in 1 Corinthians 10:13? It was in a discussion of eating meat sacrificed to idols, of idolatry, of sexual immorality, and of the grumbling of the Israelites in the desert. All of these were issues for the Corinthian church. Again, Paul is not thinking of "micro-intention" in this passage. He is discussing things like going to a pagan temple or having sex with a prostitute. No Christian group should have any doubt but that God can provide victory over any temptation to do anything like these. Were some Corinthians tempted to visit prostitutes or sleep with their step mothers (1 Cor. 5 and 6)? There was no excuse for them. God is a God who makes it possible to overcome such temptations. Were some Corinthians tempted to attend public meetings at pagan temples to advance their careers in civic life? God had you covered even if this temptation was almost unbearable.
In short, Paul believed that sin on this level was completely avoidable through the empowerment of God.
We might further note for the record that Paul also says something akin to John's "sin unto death." In 1 Corinthians 9:27 Paul says, "But I subjugate my body and I lead it into servitude lest somehow after I have preached to others, I myself might become unworthy." At this point many of my Lutheran and Calvinist friends protest the deal about "works." You make this verse sound as if certain human "works" are necessary to be found worthy on the Day of Judgment (clarification--not so much talking of justification here but of salvation in the Pauline sense outside Ephesians. Paul's language of salvation in most places is future oriented, being saved from God's wrath on the Day of Judgment).
This isn't the time to discuss that but I just don't think Paul would have a clue what you're talking about. As a Jew he just did not formulate the distinction the way some Protestants have. If he did, then what could he possibly mean when he commends the Thessalonians for their "work of faith" (1 Thess. 1:3). As I say sometimes when my interpretations are criticized for being incoherent on something like this, "Talk to Paul about it. I'm just telling you what he said."
As a lead in to our next entry on Paul, I want to mention Galatians 5:16:
"Walk by the Spirit and you will never fulfill the desire of the flesh."
Here's a sticky wicket for the person who thinks Paul saw the Christian life as constant failure in relation to "the good I want to do." Au contraire. Paul here uses the "subjunctive of emphatic negation," involving not just one but two "nots." By the way, in English two nots make a yes. In Greek they only increase the "not-iness."
So Paul does not say, the Spirit might enable you to resist the flesh. Paul does not even say casually, the Spirit often enables you to resist the flesh. Paul says that Spirit and flesh are opposing forces over which the Spirit can always win.
What was he talking about in context? He was trying to head off the abuse of his theology at the pass. Much of Galatians targets a community that is in danger of "becoming enslaved" to the Jewish law unecessarily. They are Gentiles and Paul believes they are endangering their reception of God's grace by turning to the Jewish law for justification--"you have been nullified from Christ, you who are being justified in the Law, you have fallen from grace."
But (in my minority evangelical reconstruction), Paul has recently been burned by the Corinthians in his "not under law" teaching. "Hey, Paul," the Corinthians said, "we're so not under the Law--we have a guy here who's sleeping with his step-mother! Aren't we spiritual?" Paul was horrified. How can you be proud of something like that? No, don't let your freedom in Christ become an opportunity for the flesh (Gal. 5:13). It is in this context that these words of Paul appear.
So what are the desires of the flesh that Christians can have victory over? Paul gives us a list in 5:19-21: "sexual immorality, uncleanness, licentiousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hostilities, strife, jealousy, angers, quarrels, divisiveness, factions, envy, drunkeness, orgies and similar things..." Can a Christian have victory over the "flesh" and the sins it leads to because of its desires? Yes, Paul insists a Christian can and will.
Again, the tendency of the Western conscience is to make some of these hyper-introspective (e.g. envy or jealousy). Given what we think we understand about ancient Mediterranean personality (of course we could be being "pre-modern" on it in some way we don't currently anticipate), these would relate much more to concrete intentions rather than passing thoughts or even periods of certain feelings. A Christian can be completely victorious--by the power of the Spirit--over both concrete acts of sexual immorality and concrete intentions toward sexual immorality. A person can consistently resist the urge to act or formulate concrete intentions regarding jealousy, anger, or envy.
This would not mean that a person will necessarily become free of jealous thoughts or feelings from time to time, although I personally believe such things should decrease exponentially as one's Christian life progresses. But all Christians, not just some entirely sanctified subset, should be consistently victorious over concrete actions of the sort we have mentioned. Of course in a future entry we will discuss the fact that the ideal often isn't the real.
In the next entry I want to discuss the "mother of all misinterpreted passages" on this subject: Romans 7. Critiques, questions, and comments welcome...
What a radical statement 1 John 3:9 seems, that the person born of God cannot be sinning! Doesn't this flatly contradict what the apostle Paul has to say on this subject?
Nope. This is exactly Paul's position as well.
I begin with mention of 1 Corinthians 10:13, a memory verse for a Wesleyan child:
Temptation has not taken you except that which is human. But God is faithful who does not allow you to be tempted above what you are able, but He will also make an escape with the temptation, so that you are able to bear it.
Again, a "pre-modern" interpretation is one that is unaware that a text might be read differently than it strikes us, particularly that the original meaning might be different from the way it strikes us today.
[By the way, the key to "after modernism," "POST"-modernism, is the realization that we all--no matter how much we've studied--remain to some extent unaware of our assumptions. Thus no one except God is ever completely "modern" in his or her perspective. There's a little (or rather a lot) of "pre-modern" in all of us. This makes the terms pre-, post-, and modern labels somewhat less than precise, somewhat less helpful, and not a little condescending. I do not mean to use the term that way, although it does seem accurate to me to say that most Christians are vastly unaware of what it means to read the Bible's words in context.
It is this systematic and programmed unreflectivity that leads me to continue to use this term with regard to biblical interpretation. We can mark the rise of a better understanding of how to read the Bible in context to the period of the Enlightenment. I think we reject many of the values that went along with this Enlightenment perspective, that came to read the Bble's words as words are normally read rather than in magical ways. Nevertheless, the distinction between the original meaning and the "detached" way the words strike us in our traditions seems beyond question once a person understands this distinction.]
So what exactly was Paul talking about when he wrote these words in 1 Corinthians 10:13? It was in a discussion of eating meat sacrificed to idols, of idolatry, of sexual immorality, and of the grumbling of the Israelites in the desert. All of these were issues for the Corinthian church. Again, Paul is not thinking of "micro-intention" in this passage. He is discussing things like going to a pagan temple or having sex with a prostitute. No Christian group should have any doubt but that God can provide victory over any temptation to do anything like these. Were some Corinthians tempted to visit prostitutes or sleep with their step mothers (1 Cor. 5 and 6)? There was no excuse for them. God is a God who makes it possible to overcome such temptations. Were some Corinthians tempted to attend public meetings at pagan temples to advance their careers in civic life? God had you covered even if this temptation was almost unbearable.
In short, Paul believed that sin on this level was completely avoidable through the empowerment of God.
We might further note for the record that Paul also says something akin to John's "sin unto death." In 1 Corinthians 9:27 Paul says, "But I subjugate my body and I lead it into servitude lest somehow after I have preached to others, I myself might become unworthy." At this point many of my Lutheran and Calvinist friends protest the deal about "works." You make this verse sound as if certain human "works" are necessary to be found worthy on the Day of Judgment (clarification--not so much talking of justification here but of salvation in the Pauline sense outside Ephesians. Paul's language of salvation in most places is future oriented, being saved from God's wrath on the Day of Judgment).
This isn't the time to discuss that but I just don't think Paul would have a clue what you're talking about. As a Jew he just did not formulate the distinction the way some Protestants have. If he did, then what could he possibly mean when he commends the Thessalonians for their "work of faith" (1 Thess. 1:3). As I say sometimes when my interpretations are criticized for being incoherent on something like this, "Talk to Paul about it. I'm just telling you what he said."
As a lead in to our next entry on Paul, I want to mention Galatians 5:16:
"Walk by the Spirit and you will never fulfill the desire of the flesh."
Here's a sticky wicket for the person who thinks Paul saw the Christian life as constant failure in relation to "the good I want to do." Au contraire. Paul here uses the "subjunctive of emphatic negation," involving not just one but two "nots." By the way, in English two nots make a yes. In Greek they only increase the "not-iness."
So Paul does not say, the Spirit might enable you to resist the flesh. Paul does not even say casually, the Spirit often enables you to resist the flesh. Paul says that Spirit and flesh are opposing forces over which the Spirit can always win.
What was he talking about in context? He was trying to head off the abuse of his theology at the pass. Much of Galatians targets a community that is in danger of "becoming enslaved" to the Jewish law unecessarily. They are Gentiles and Paul believes they are endangering their reception of God's grace by turning to the Jewish law for justification--"you have been nullified from Christ, you who are being justified in the Law, you have fallen from grace."
But (in my minority evangelical reconstruction), Paul has recently been burned by the Corinthians in his "not under law" teaching. "Hey, Paul," the Corinthians said, "we're so not under the Law--we have a guy here who's sleeping with his step-mother! Aren't we spiritual?" Paul was horrified. How can you be proud of something like that? No, don't let your freedom in Christ become an opportunity for the flesh (Gal. 5:13). It is in this context that these words of Paul appear.
So what are the desires of the flesh that Christians can have victory over? Paul gives us a list in 5:19-21: "sexual immorality, uncleanness, licentiousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hostilities, strife, jealousy, angers, quarrels, divisiveness, factions, envy, drunkeness, orgies and similar things..." Can a Christian have victory over the "flesh" and the sins it leads to because of its desires? Yes, Paul insists a Christian can and will.
Again, the tendency of the Western conscience is to make some of these hyper-introspective (e.g. envy or jealousy). Given what we think we understand about ancient Mediterranean personality (of course we could be being "pre-modern" on it in some way we don't currently anticipate), these would relate much more to concrete intentions rather than passing thoughts or even periods of certain feelings. A Christian can be completely victorious--by the power of the Spirit--over both concrete acts of sexual immorality and concrete intentions toward sexual immorality. A person can consistently resist the urge to act or formulate concrete intentions regarding jealousy, anger, or envy.
This would not mean that a person will necessarily become free of jealous thoughts or feelings from time to time, although I personally believe such things should decrease exponentially as one's Christian life progresses. But all Christians, not just some entirely sanctified subset, should be consistently victorious over concrete actions of the sort we have mentioned. Of course in a future entry we will discuss the fact that the ideal often isn't the real.
In the next entry I want to discuss the "mother of all misinterpreted passages" on this subject: Romans 7. Critiques, questions, and comments welcome...
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Victory Over Sin 2
To me, 1 John provides the best snapshot of the subject of sin in the New Testament. It is a virtual treasure trove of "memory verses" on the the topic.
Definitions of Sin
For example, 1 John gives us two definitions of sin:
"All sin is unrighteousness" (1 John 5:17).
"Sin is lawlessness" (1 John 3:4).
While it seems a little difficult at first to know what these verses really mean specifically, I especially like the NIV translation of 5:17 (whether it's a good one or not :): "All wrongdoing is sin."
Classic Calvinist Texts
John has several classic Calvinist verses:
"If we should say we do not have sin, we are deceiving ourselves, and the truth is not in us" (1:8).
"They went out from us, but they were not from us. For if they were [truly] from us, they would have remained with us. But [they left] so it might be shown that they were not [truly] from us (2:19)
The first one is the most classic text of all to justify that Christians cannot help but sin all the time, and that the Wesleyan tradition is deceiving itself if it claims a person can have victory over sin. The second text is a classic text in defense of a certain position on eternal security. The idea is that if a person commits mass murder after claiming to become a Christian, you can be sure that person was never really a Christian in the first place.
A Classic Wesleyan Text
John also has a classic "Wesleyan" verse:
"Everyone who has been born of God does not practice sin, because His seed remains in him. And he is not able to be sinning, because he has been born of God" (3:9)
The person from the Wesleyan tradition responds to the Calvinist. Wait a second, there must be something wrong with your interpretation of 1 John 1:8 if John can go on to say something like this verse. This verse clearly says that sin doesn't fit with being born of God. God places His "seed" in you and that should make all the difference.
Honorable Mention to a Roman Catholic Verse
So that no one is left out, we might finally mention an oldie, but goodie Catholic verse:
"If someone should see his brother sinning a sin not to death, he will ask and will give him live, to those who are sinning not to death. There is a sin to death. I'm not saying you should ask about that one. All wrongdoing is sin, and there is a sin that isn't to death" (5:16-17).
Woah! What was that all about?
The Roman Catholic Church builds its distinction between "mortal" and "venial" sins from this verse. Mortal sins are the ones that can't be forgiven--they invalidate your baptism. Venial sins are in contrast sins that are open for forgiveness.
Pre-Modern Readings of These Verses
What I mean by a pre-modern reading of the Bible is a reading that is largely unaware of its assumptions. In short, we read the words as if they are written as timeless truths from God to me. Now, on the one hand, this is the very stuff of what a Scripture is. On the other hand, reading the Bible this way automatically means I am not reading its words in context. In this instance, John's words were written to a specific Christian community with a specific history. For example, the verse we mentioned above, 1 John 2:19, tells us that this church had recently undergone a split of sorts and a group had left the church.
So when I read these words as universal truths about sin, I am changing their meaning slightly from what John originally intended the words to mean. Now I certainly don't want you to think I'm saying this way of reading is the wrong way to read the words. All I want to point out that it is a different way of reading the words than reading them for what they originally meant. Reading them for what they originally meant is the "modern" way of reading them. Finally one "post-modern" way of reading them--one I think is the way we will read Scripture in the future--reads the words as God's message to us, but is aware that when we read them in that way, we are taking the words differently from what God inspired John to say to some church in Asia Minor.
Like I implied above, the very nature of a Scripture is to loosen the meaning from its original moorings and universalize them somewhat. The words take on a more timeless quality. Too be sure, not all the words can do this as well as others (e.g., "Greet the brothers with a holy kiss" doesn't universalize nearly as well as "Love your neighbor as yourself"). It was at these points that the ancient church (as well as ancient Jews like Paul) downshifted into allegory and metaphorical meanings.
Enough of all that. I wish us to take a pilgrimage from our pre-modern readings of 1 John to a contextual understanding and then return to a reflective understanding of these words as Scripture.
As good pre-moderns, our tendency is to read these verses in isolation and "define" them with the "dictionary" of our tradition. For each of the traditions I mention above, some of these verses are "naughty" verses--verses that don't fit as easily into our paradigms. 1 John 1:8 is a naughty verse for us Wesleyans. 1 John 3:9 is naughty for Calvinists. And 1 John 5:16 seems naughty for Protestants.
Enter coping mechanisms. To explain 1 John 5:16, a Calvinist might argue that some sins are just so bad that God kills you, even though your spirit will still be saved. I'm not sure what a Calvinist would do with 3:9. The NIV translates it as "continue to sin," which is a fair rendition of the present tense of the Greek. Actually even Wesleyans would have a problem with the idea that it is completely impossible for a Christian to sin.
As a Wesleyan, I cope with 1 John 1:8 by watching the wording and the tenses carefully. 1 John 1:8 does not read "If we say that we do not practice sin, we deceive ourselves." Indeed, if it did it would flatly contradict 3:9. What it says is that "If we say that we do not have sin." In this sense it basically anticipates what John will say in 1 John 1:10: "If we should say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us."
The perfect tense in Greek has the sense of something that was completed in the past. "I have been married seven years." The act of getting married is something that's been done for eight years. So to say that we don't have sin is to say that we have never sinned. This is the person who says, "I've never sinned." 1 John 1:8 and 10 are thus John's equivalent to Romans 3:23: "All have sinned and are lacking the glory of God."
Over the years I have perhaps gone slightly unorthodox (for a Wesleyan, that is) on my understanding of 1 John 5:16. To be sure, I have no systematic theology of this verse like Roman Catholics do. But on the whole it seems to me that John is saying some sins knock you out of the kingdom immediately and some don't. Of course I grew up with the "one sin you're out" approach. "Sin once in any way? You better pray; it's hell today." (I just made that up).
John doesn't seem to see it quite so rigidly. All sin no doubt damages our relationship with God. But not all sins sever the relationship instantly. On the other hand, some sins do. With regard to return to Christ, I have faith in the belief early settled in the 200's that a person whose relationship with Christ has been severed can repent and return to Christ. I can relate this somewhat theologically to the belief that the Holy Spirit leads us to repentance. So if you are truly repentant, then you have not committed some "unpardonable sin."
The "Modernist" Reading: 1 John in Context
When I begin to read 1 John in its historical context, I read the whole book, rather than a few isolated memory verses. I had long found 1 John somewhat vague in its statements. I now feel pretty good about what I think John was trying to say, but I will acknowledge up front that it involves some "reconstruction" on my part. In other words, the meaning of 1 John was clear enough to its original audiences. But since I am only listening in on their conversation, I am missing a great deal of the puzzle. While reading the text of 1 John alone out of context is dangerous because it can come to mean almost anything, even reading it in context is a little unstable in its meaning--we just don't have complete information.
The "they left us" verse in 2:19 unlocks 1 John for me. Some group had left John's community. What did they believe? I think 1 John says enough for us to identify them as "Gnostics" of a sort. They didn't believe that Jesus had come "in the flesh" (2). They believed that Jesus came "by water" at his baptism, but not that he died "by blood" on the cross (5:6). They saw no need for Jesus as an atoning sacrifice for their sins (2:2). In a manner of speaking, they did not see a need for forgiveness for sins through Christ (1:8, 10) and thus rejected Jesus as Messiah (2:22). They were thus "antichrists," opposed to God's work through Jesus (2:18, 22).
1 John 2:19 is thus not some absolute statement about eternal security. It relates to a group that never truly believed in Jesus. They may have worshipped with John's community for a while, but they did not truly belong.
As with Paul, reading 1 John in this way reveals a certain danger in absolutizing and universalizing his words. Many of these comments are addressed at a particular situation. Space forbids me from going on more about my thoughts on the community. My basic point here is that some words in the Bible were never meant to be universal in scope. Some of the things Paul says in one context he would not have said in a different one.
I supect that in part, Paul tells the Corinthians not to take each other to court because he knows that the group taking the others to court are wrong in everyway, enacting unrighteousness through pagan power structures. On the other hand, I am not convinced that Paul would have put things the same way if those taking others to court had been ensuring that righteousness would take place. Herein are the dangers of pre-modern interpretation, universalizing contextual words in ways that can in some cases actually reinforce ungodly ends. (not so much in this case, since it would seem that sin is almost always involved somewhere when a Christian takes another Christian to court).
Reading 1 John Reflectively as Scripture
With some sense of what the original meaning might be, we can now return to what 1 John might mean for us as Scripture. To reach this meaning, we need a bit of Wesley's Quadrilateral to bring us from then to now. I submit the following theology of sin from 1 John:
1. There is no person who does not need Christ's atonement. All have sinned, and anyone who says they do not have sin deceives themselves.
This dictum has the support of Christian history and is the agreed position of Christians everywhere today.
2. But 1 John 3:9 similarly sees sin as incompatible with the fundamental character of a Christian. God's seed and word in us stands in direct conflict with a lifestyle of sinning. Sin should not be typical of a Christian.
Here I face an uphill battle when it comes to the consensus of Christendom. The Wesleyan tradition reflects the position of only a small portion of the church in its belief that God can provide victory over sin. Nevertheless, this is the biblical position and one that I feel represents the right conception of God as One who is able to empower believers. The pessimistic view that God gives up on us in relation to sin seems somehow to undersell God. On these warrants I stand with my tradition in laying a prophetic stake on this issue. 1 John, and as we will see the rest of the New Testament, does not in any way encourage or assume that sin will be a part of a believer's life, particularly in terms of concrete, intentional wrongdoing.
1 John in particular formulates sin in terms of love and hate. In its original context, these words had overtones of the Gnostics who had left the community and had shown hatred for their brothers and sisters. 1 John calls them murderers (3:15), something reflected in their refusal to help their brothers and sisters in need even though they had the resources to do so (3:17). However, as Scripture, we can formulate the "touchstone" of sin in relation to acts of love (4:7-8).
I say acts because 1 John and indeed the New Testament authors thought of love more in concrete than in attitudinal terms. I doubt I can be perfect in love from an attitudinal perspective (although that is what we are ultimately discussing here, so I am open to correction). But I think a person can be by John's standard perfect in concrete love--in always doing that which is loving when a choice to love or not to love presents itself.
3. It is possible to "die" as a result of your sin. I suspect that the New Testament authors generally assumed that a person who had truly come to Christ was in for life. However, extreme cases required them to see that a person could "sin unto death" and thereby lose their reservation for salvation on the Day of Judgment.
4. We have a good lawyer. 1 John expresses the fact that all have sinned (1:8, 10) and that sin is fundamentally incompatible with the character of a Christian (3:9). But I think 1 John 2:1 pretty much sums the whole thing up for John:
"My children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. And if someone should sin, we have an advocate with the Father: Jesus Christ the Righteous One."
To be sure, John probably has concrete actions in mind here. I'm writing these things so that you won't be deceived by this heretical group and sin by leaving us or withdrawing your support from us. But if you have gone astray in these ways or have dabbled with leaving the community, God will forgive you. I am writing these things so that you will have fellowship with us (1:3). After all, we are presenting to you things that we have seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears (1:1-2).
So all have sinned in the past, but it would be inappropriate to continue sinning now as Christians. Sin in the life of a Christian can actually lead to death. But if you sin, we have a go-between named Jesus. He died as an atoning sacrifice for sins (2:2).
We could discuss many points of what I've written here. Some comments are more open to debate than others. But since this is a rather long blog entry, I'll stop and give anyone who might want a chance to speak...
Definitions of Sin
For example, 1 John gives us two definitions of sin:
"All sin is unrighteousness" (1 John 5:17).
"Sin is lawlessness" (1 John 3:4).
While it seems a little difficult at first to know what these verses really mean specifically, I especially like the NIV translation of 5:17 (whether it's a good one or not :): "All wrongdoing is sin."
Classic Calvinist Texts
John has several classic Calvinist verses:
"If we should say we do not have sin, we are deceiving ourselves, and the truth is not in us" (1:8).
"They went out from us, but they were not from us. For if they were [truly] from us, they would have remained with us. But [they left] so it might be shown that they were not [truly] from us (2:19)
The first one is the most classic text of all to justify that Christians cannot help but sin all the time, and that the Wesleyan tradition is deceiving itself if it claims a person can have victory over sin. The second text is a classic text in defense of a certain position on eternal security. The idea is that if a person commits mass murder after claiming to become a Christian, you can be sure that person was never really a Christian in the first place.
A Classic Wesleyan Text
John also has a classic "Wesleyan" verse:
"Everyone who has been born of God does not practice sin, because His seed remains in him. And he is not able to be sinning, because he has been born of God" (3:9)
The person from the Wesleyan tradition responds to the Calvinist. Wait a second, there must be something wrong with your interpretation of 1 John 1:8 if John can go on to say something like this verse. This verse clearly says that sin doesn't fit with being born of God. God places His "seed" in you and that should make all the difference.
Honorable Mention to a Roman Catholic Verse
So that no one is left out, we might finally mention an oldie, but goodie Catholic verse:
"If someone should see his brother sinning a sin not to death, he will ask and will give him live, to those who are sinning not to death. There is a sin to death. I'm not saying you should ask about that one. All wrongdoing is sin, and there is a sin that isn't to death" (5:16-17).
Woah! What was that all about?
The Roman Catholic Church builds its distinction between "mortal" and "venial" sins from this verse. Mortal sins are the ones that can't be forgiven--they invalidate your baptism. Venial sins are in contrast sins that are open for forgiveness.
Pre-Modern Readings of These Verses
What I mean by a pre-modern reading of the Bible is a reading that is largely unaware of its assumptions. In short, we read the words as if they are written as timeless truths from God to me. Now, on the one hand, this is the very stuff of what a Scripture is. On the other hand, reading the Bible this way automatically means I am not reading its words in context. In this instance, John's words were written to a specific Christian community with a specific history. For example, the verse we mentioned above, 1 John 2:19, tells us that this church had recently undergone a split of sorts and a group had left the church.
So when I read these words as universal truths about sin, I am changing their meaning slightly from what John originally intended the words to mean. Now I certainly don't want you to think I'm saying this way of reading is the wrong way to read the words. All I want to point out that it is a different way of reading the words than reading them for what they originally meant. Reading them for what they originally meant is the "modern" way of reading them. Finally one "post-modern" way of reading them--one I think is the way we will read Scripture in the future--reads the words as God's message to us, but is aware that when we read them in that way, we are taking the words differently from what God inspired John to say to some church in Asia Minor.
Like I implied above, the very nature of a Scripture is to loosen the meaning from its original moorings and universalize them somewhat. The words take on a more timeless quality. Too be sure, not all the words can do this as well as others (e.g., "Greet the brothers with a holy kiss" doesn't universalize nearly as well as "Love your neighbor as yourself"). It was at these points that the ancient church (as well as ancient Jews like Paul) downshifted into allegory and metaphorical meanings.
Enough of all that. I wish us to take a pilgrimage from our pre-modern readings of 1 John to a contextual understanding and then return to a reflective understanding of these words as Scripture.
As good pre-moderns, our tendency is to read these verses in isolation and "define" them with the "dictionary" of our tradition. For each of the traditions I mention above, some of these verses are "naughty" verses--verses that don't fit as easily into our paradigms. 1 John 1:8 is a naughty verse for us Wesleyans. 1 John 3:9 is naughty for Calvinists. And 1 John 5:16 seems naughty for Protestants.
Enter coping mechanisms. To explain 1 John 5:16, a Calvinist might argue that some sins are just so bad that God kills you, even though your spirit will still be saved. I'm not sure what a Calvinist would do with 3:9. The NIV translates it as "continue to sin," which is a fair rendition of the present tense of the Greek. Actually even Wesleyans would have a problem with the idea that it is completely impossible for a Christian to sin.
As a Wesleyan, I cope with 1 John 1:8 by watching the wording and the tenses carefully. 1 John 1:8 does not read "If we say that we do not practice sin, we deceive ourselves." Indeed, if it did it would flatly contradict 3:9. What it says is that "If we say that we do not have sin." In this sense it basically anticipates what John will say in 1 John 1:10: "If we should say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us."
The perfect tense in Greek has the sense of something that was completed in the past. "I have been married seven years." The act of getting married is something that's been done for eight years. So to say that we don't have sin is to say that we have never sinned. This is the person who says, "I've never sinned." 1 John 1:8 and 10 are thus John's equivalent to Romans 3:23: "All have sinned and are lacking the glory of God."
Over the years I have perhaps gone slightly unorthodox (for a Wesleyan, that is) on my understanding of 1 John 5:16. To be sure, I have no systematic theology of this verse like Roman Catholics do. But on the whole it seems to me that John is saying some sins knock you out of the kingdom immediately and some don't. Of course I grew up with the "one sin you're out" approach. "Sin once in any way? You better pray; it's hell today." (I just made that up).
John doesn't seem to see it quite so rigidly. All sin no doubt damages our relationship with God. But not all sins sever the relationship instantly. On the other hand, some sins do. With regard to return to Christ, I have faith in the belief early settled in the 200's that a person whose relationship with Christ has been severed can repent and return to Christ. I can relate this somewhat theologically to the belief that the Holy Spirit leads us to repentance. So if you are truly repentant, then you have not committed some "unpardonable sin."
The "Modernist" Reading: 1 John in Context
When I begin to read 1 John in its historical context, I read the whole book, rather than a few isolated memory verses. I had long found 1 John somewhat vague in its statements. I now feel pretty good about what I think John was trying to say, but I will acknowledge up front that it involves some "reconstruction" on my part. In other words, the meaning of 1 John was clear enough to its original audiences. But since I am only listening in on their conversation, I am missing a great deal of the puzzle. While reading the text of 1 John alone out of context is dangerous because it can come to mean almost anything, even reading it in context is a little unstable in its meaning--we just don't have complete information.
The "they left us" verse in 2:19 unlocks 1 John for me. Some group had left John's community. What did they believe? I think 1 John says enough for us to identify them as "Gnostics" of a sort. They didn't believe that Jesus had come "in the flesh" (2). They believed that Jesus came "by water" at his baptism, but not that he died "by blood" on the cross (5:6). They saw no need for Jesus as an atoning sacrifice for their sins (2:2). In a manner of speaking, they did not see a need for forgiveness for sins through Christ (1:8, 10) and thus rejected Jesus as Messiah (2:22). They were thus "antichrists," opposed to God's work through Jesus (2:18, 22).
1 John 2:19 is thus not some absolute statement about eternal security. It relates to a group that never truly believed in Jesus. They may have worshipped with John's community for a while, but they did not truly belong.
As with Paul, reading 1 John in this way reveals a certain danger in absolutizing and universalizing his words. Many of these comments are addressed at a particular situation. Space forbids me from going on more about my thoughts on the community. My basic point here is that some words in the Bible were never meant to be universal in scope. Some of the things Paul says in one context he would not have said in a different one.
I supect that in part, Paul tells the Corinthians not to take each other to court because he knows that the group taking the others to court are wrong in everyway, enacting unrighteousness through pagan power structures. On the other hand, I am not convinced that Paul would have put things the same way if those taking others to court had been ensuring that righteousness would take place. Herein are the dangers of pre-modern interpretation, universalizing contextual words in ways that can in some cases actually reinforce ungodly ends. (not so much in this case, since it would seem that sin is almost always involved somewhere when a Christian takes another Christian to court).
Reading 1 John Reflectively as Scripture
With some sense of what the original meaning might be, we can now return to what 1 John might mean for us as Scripture. To reach this meaning, we need a bit of Wesley's Quadrilateral to bring us from then to now. I submit the following theology of sin from 1 John:
1. There is no person who does not need Christ's atonement. All have sinned, and anyone who says they do not have sin deceives themselves.
This dictum has the support of Christian history and is the agreed position of Christians everywhere today.
2. But 1 John 3:9 similarly sees sin as incompatible with the fundamental character of a Christian. God's seed and word in us stands in direct conflict with a lifestyle of sinning. Sin should not be typical of a Christian.
Here I face an uphill battle when it comes to the consensus of Christendom. The Wesleyan tradition reflects the position of only a small portion of the church in its belief that God can provide victory over sin. Nevertheless, this is the biblical position and one that I feel represents the right conception of God as One who is able to empower believers. The pessimistic view that God gives up on us in relation to sin seems somehow to undersell God. On these warrants I stand with my tradition in laying a prophetic stake on this issue. 1 John, and as we will see the rest of the New Testament, does not in any way encourage or assume that sin will be a part of a believer's life, particularly in terms of concrete, intentional wrongdoing.
1 John in particular formulates sin in terms of love and hate. In its original context, these words had overtones of the Gnostics who had left the community and had shown hatred for their brothers and sisters. 1 John calls them murderers (3:15), something reflected in their refusal to help their brothers and sisters in need even though they had the resources to do so (3:17). However, as Scripture, we can formulate the "touchstone" of sin in relation to acts of love (4:7-8).
I say acts because 1 John and indeed the New Testament authors thought of love more in concrete than in attitudinal terms. I doubt I can be perfect in love from an attitudinal perspective (although that is what we are ultimately discussing here, so I am open to correction). But I think a person can be by John's standard perfect in concrete love--in always doing that which is loving when a choice to love or not to love presents itself.
3. It is possible to "die" as a result of your sin. I suspect that the New Testament authors generally assumed that a person who had truly come to Christ was in for life. However, extreme cases required them to see that a person could "sin unto death" and thereby lose their reservation for salvation on the Day of Judgment.
4. We have a good lawyer. 1 John expresses the fact that all have sinned (1:8, 10) and that sin is fundamentally incompatible with the character of a Christian (3:9). But I think 1 John 2:1 pretty much sums the whole thing up for John:
"My children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. And if someone should sin, we have an advocate with the Father: Jesus Christ the Righteous One."
To be sure, John probably has concrete actions in mind here. I'm writing these things so that you won't be deceived by this heretical group and sin by leaving us or withdrawing your support from us. But if you have gone astray in these ways or have dabbled with leaving the community, God will forgive you. I am writing these things so that you will have fellowship with us (1:3). After all, we are presenting to you things that we have seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears (1:1-2).
So all have sinned in the past, but it would be inappropriate to continue sinning now as Christians. Sin in the life of a Christian can actually lead to death. But if you sin, we have a go-between named Jesus. He died as an atoning sacrifice for sins (2:2).
We could discuss many points of what I've written here. Some comments are more open to debate than others. But since this is a rather long blog entry, I'll stop and give anyone who might want a chance to speak...
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Why I Believe in Victory Over Sin 1
Why I Believe in Victory Over Sin
I grew up in the Wesleyan Church with preaching on entire sanctification. In a time when the doctrine was preached less and less, I heard many sermons about an instantaneous, distinct action that God performed in the lives of Christians to free them from the power of sin. In a moment, God was said to remove the part of you that made it almost impossible for you to defeat the temptations in your life. In its place He filled you with love and the power to live a holy life.
You hardly hear preaching like that anymore, even in the Wesleyan Church. The decline in preaching on "holiness" led Keith Drury ten years ago to write an article about the death of the "holiness movement." He was not celebrating, just observing. I myself would attribute the death of this kind of preaching to a number of factors, including 1) the difficulty in matching the doctrine to our experience, 2) the "baptistification" of American Christianity, and 3) our difficulty in finding the doctrine clearly in the Biblical text.
With the approach of a Wesleyan meeting on the subject of salvation in relation to our Discipline this month, I thought I would blog some of my thoughts on our doctrine in this regard. I'm viewing this blog as a kind of "amicus brief," a friendly word from an interested but outside party. I am only one biblical scholar, but I have some views I'd at least like to be considered in discussion, particularly before someone goes and "chucks" our Wesleyan heritage. I love my Baptist brothers and sisters, but it would be a shame for us to "give in" on some things where our understanding of the Bible is actually more accurate than theirs.
I submit these entries in three parts. In the first I want to commend our tradition for its belief that the New Testament teaches victory over sin in the life of a believer. I can honestly say that I do not know of a single verse in the entirety of the New Testament that teaches that a Christian cannot help but sin. I want to stake my claims against the prevailing, "we can't help but sin" sentiment in American Christianity today. That will take several entries as I show how skewed so many of the biblical interpretations are of the relevant passages.
In the second part I wish to address the question of Christian experience. We find that Paul has a particular standard he sets as the expected and ideal. But we also find that his churches sometimes failed to reach that standard. I want to be practical. There is an element of "becoming what you are" to the matter of sin in the life of a believer.
Finally, as a postlude, I may make a few comments on some of the pre-modern elements in the interpretations of the holiness movement of the past. These are interpretations and ways of splicing the biblical text together that didn't really work and in fact probably took us a little off track. If the survival of holiness depends on these interpretations, then I don't think we will see it resurrected.
Let's see what happens...
I grew up in the Wesleyan Church with preaching on entire sanctification. In a time when the doctrine was preached less and less, I heard many sermons about an instantaneous, distinct action that God performed in the lives of Christians to free them from the power of sin. In a moment, God was said to remove the part of you that made it almost impossible for you to defeat the temptations in your life. In its place He filled you with love and the power to live a holy life.
You hardly hear preaching like that anymore, even in the Wesleyan Church. The decline in preaching on "holiness" led Keith Drury ten years ago to write an article about the death of the "holiness movement." He was not celebrating, just observing. I myself would attribute the death of this kind of preaching to a number of factors, including 1) the difficulty in matching the doctrine to our experience, 2) the "baptistification" of American Christianity, and 3) our difficulty in finding the doctrine clearly in the Biblical text.
With the approach of a Wesleyan meeting on the subject of salvation in relation to our Discipline this month, I thought I would blog some of my thoughts on our doctrine in this regard. I'm viewing this blog as a kind of "amicus brief," a friendly word from an interested but outside party. I am only one biblical scholar, but I have some views I'd at least like to be considered in discussion, particularly before someone goes and "chucks" our Wesleyan heritage. I love my Baptist brothers and sisters, but it would be a shame for us to "give in" on some things where our understanding of the Bible is actually more accurate than theirs.
I submit these entries in three parts. In the first I want to commend our tradition for its belief that the New Testament teaches victory over sin in the life of a believer. I can honestly say that I do not know of a single verse in the entirety of the New Testament that teaches that a Christian cannot help but sin. I want to stake my claims against the prevailing, "we can't help but sin" sentiment in American Christianity today. That will take several entries as I show how skewed so many of the biblical interpretations are of the relevant passages.
In the second part I wish to address the question of Christian experience. We find that Paul has a particular standard he sets as the expected and ideal. But we also find that his churches sometimes failed to reach that standard. I want to be practical. There is an element of "becoming what you are" to the matter of sin in the life of a believer.
Finally, as a postlude, I may make a few comments on some of the pre-modern elements in the interpretations of the holiness movement of the past. These are interpretations and ways of splicing the biblical text together that didn't really work and in fact probably took us a little off track. If the survival of holiness depends on these interpretations, then I don't think we will see it resurrected.
Let's see what happens...
Thursday, April 28, 2005
New Blogs
I've set up two new blogs. One is for professors to put interesting turns of phrase from student papers--
www.iwustudentquotes.blogspot.com.
The other one is for students to put up interesting turns of phrase by profs (except for comments, these need to be sent through me to be posted)
www.iwuprofessorquotes.blogspot.com
Enjoy and participate!
Ken
www.iwustudentquotes.blogspot.com.
The other one is for students to put up interesting turns of phrase by profs (except for comments, these need to be sent through me to be posted)
www.iwuprofessorquotes.blogspot.com
Enjoy and participate!
Ken
Friday, April 22, 2005
When to Submit
The train of thought on the previous post has become long and interesting enough to warrant a new post. Here's the thread:
Schenck: I guess I would consider the authority of a community in an "absolute" sense to be in proportion to its correspondance to the faith of the ages, the faith "catholic." By the way, I consider this touchstone to apply to the Roman Catholic church as well :>) In other words, the authority of the Roman Catholic Church depends on its correspondance to the true catholic faith rather than its own understanding of the faith catholic.
On the other hand, I believe that communities can be prophetic on various issues, in which their authority is tentative in relation to the catholic faith, but potentially absolute in relation to what the catholic faith might become.
But what I mean when I speak of being in submission to the communities of faith to which I belong will often be something much less than either of these in terms of its relation to absolute faith. It is about my submission to those in authority over me. Whether it proves also to be submission to the church catholic will often be highly debatable in any absolute or even prophetic sense.
Chris: So there are times when we can't be or shouldn't be submissive to our church's authority [meaning the authority of our particular local church and its respective denomination]? or do you just mean the church-at-large?
New Schenck: With the danger of being a hypocrite, here goes.
A person should never submit to any authority over them when that authority is in conflict with the faith catholic (e.g., Trinity). Can we create a category, the "ethic catholic," issues of consensus with regard to practice (e.g., homosexual practice)?
But take the issue of drinking alcohol. There's clearly nothing unbiblical about drinking in moderation. Yet, the communities of faith to which I belong prohibit it. I believe on an issue like this one it is my duty to submit to their authority and not drink. Such rules are often part of what brings group cohesion and are sociologically significant (e.g., not dancing). It does me no harm to submit to such rules, and it does a body good (the body of Christ in terms of cohesiveness).
I don't think it will be a perfect world when every church looks and acts and believes the same way. The diversity allows for the whole counsel of God to come through. Forces in tension have much more "strength" than a lukewarm, watered down unity.
There may be other issues where I believe the authorities over me are in conflict with truths that are not a part of the core faith and that are in the end detrimental to the church. While the Wesleyan Church mostly ignores the personal practice of tongues these days, there was a time when individuals who privately spoke in tongues got into big trouble. What of the days when people were prohibited from translating the Bible into vernacular languages? These aren't core issues, but they would seem to be positions that conflict with either the Bible or the trajectory of faith. Must we submit on them?
I feel that some people may called to be "prophets" on issues like these. Maybe God calls a Wycliff or a Bence to move the church in more biblical or Christian direction when a practice is actually detrimental to God's plan. Does God call us all to change the church on these issues? I know some people who feel that it is their job to correct everything that is wrong with everything. Most of the time I doubt they are truly called to be prophets.
I think there are other and often better ways to change the church than direct confrontation or disobedience. There is the "wise as a serpent, harmless as a dove" method. There is the "subtle change agent" model. The "frog straight into hot water model" backfires a lot of the time, I think.
Then there's the model "choose your battles." For various reasons, I've taken the easy route and chosen to play the kind of "prophetic" role with the issue of women. It's safe because it is one of the things that my own tradition is most prophetic on in relation to the broader church. I can submit to my communities of faith and yet speak out. I feel similarly about the power of God to live victoriously over willful sin.
Are there issues where I should speak out within or in a prophetic role toward my communities of faith? That's so tricky. There aren't any that I personally feel called to be prophetic on. How about you?
Schenck: I guess I would consider the authority of a community in an "absolute" sense to be in proportion to its correspondance to the faith of the ages, the faith "catholic." By the way, I consider this touchstone to apply to the Roman Catholic church as well :>) In other words, the authority of the Roman Catholic Church depends on its correspondance to the true catholic faith rather than its own understanding of the faith catholic.
On the other hand, I believe that communities can be prophetic on various issues, in which their authority is tentative in relation to the catholic faith, but potentially absolute in relation to what the catholic faith might become.
But what I mean when I speak of being in submission to the communities of faith to which I belong will often be something much less than either of these in terms of its relation to absolute faith. It is about my submission to those in authority over me. Whether it proves also to be submission to the church catholic will often be highly debatable in any absolute or even prophetic sense.
Chris: So there are times when we can't be or shouldn't be submissive to our church's authority [meaning the authority of our particular local church and its respective denomination]? or do you just mean the church-at-large?
New Schenck: With the danger of being a hypocrite, here goes.
A person should never submit to any authority over them when that authority is in conflict with the faith catholic (e.g., Trinity). Can we create a category, the "ethic catholic," issues of consensus with regard to practice (e.g., homosexual practice)?
But take the issue of drinking alcohol. There's clearly nothing unbiblical about drinking in moderation. Yet, the communities of faith to which I belong prohibit it. I believe on an issue like this one it is my duty to submit to their authority and not drink. Such rules are often part of what brings group cohesion and are sociologically significant (e.g., not dancing). It does me no harm to submit to such rules, and it does a body good (the body of Christ in terms of cohesiveness).
I don't think it will be a perfect world when every church looks and acts and believes the same way. The diversity allows for the whole counsel of God to come through. Forces in tension have much more "strength" than a lukewarm, watered down unity.
There may be other issues where I believe the authorities over me are in conflict with truths that are not a part of the core faith and that are in the end detrimental to the church. While the Wesleyan Church mostly ignores the personal practice of tongues these days, there was a time when individuals who privately spoke in tongues got into big trouble. What of the days when people were prohibited from translating the Bible into vernacular languages? These aren't core issues, but they would seem to be positions that conflict with either the Bible or the trajectory of faith. Must we submit on them?
I feel that some people may called to be "prophets" on issues like these. Maybe God calls a Wycliff or a Bence to move the church in more biblical or Christian direction when a practice is actually detrimental to God's plan. Does God call us all to change the church on these issues? I know some people who feel that it is their job to correct everything that is wrong with everything. Most of the time I doubt they are truly called to be prophets.
I think there are other and often better ways to change the church than direct confrontation or disobedience. There is the "wise as a serpent, harmless as a dove" method. There is the "subtle change agent" model. The "frog straight into hot water model" backfires a lot of the time, I think.
Then there's the model "choose your battles." For various reasons, I've taken the easy route and chosen to play the kind of "prophetic" role with the issue of women. It's safe because it is one of the things that my own tradition is most prophetic on in relation to the broader church. I can submit to my communities of faith and yet speak out. I feel similarly about the power of God to live victoriously over willful sin.
Are there issues where I should speak out within or in a prophetic role toward my communities of faith? That's so tricky. There aren't any that I personally feel called to be prophetic on. How about you?
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Pope Benedict XVI
We have a new pope.
I wouldn't have chosen Ratzinger, but what do I know? He had the office of Chief Inquisitor, although they don't call it that anymore. It is he who stomped out Liberation Theology in Latin America (a good thing?). It is he who prohibited priests from running for public office (a good thing?). He has been behind the purging of liberal Catholic universities and seminaries (a good thing?).
In short, there will be no "development" of the sort American and European Catholics want. I did a Google on former Benedicts to try to find out what agenda might hide in this name. I came across Benedict XIV, who was a hard liner on giving in to cultural trends and lost many converts to Catholicism in the seventeen hundreds. Is this why Ratzinger took the name--because he plans on "taking a stand for absolute truth."
I just hope he does not make any "infallible" statements on issues still open for debate. As you might expect, I have serious questions about the idea of papal infallibility. I have problems when one person can encase traditions in stone that cannot change.
Acceptance of the theoretical possibility of change is inherent in Christian tradition. I can't listen to the words of the Bible and not conclude massive theological developments between the Old and New Testaments. The afterlife would be a major case in point since the OT has very little about it and some of what there is in the OT is against it (e.g., Job 14:13-22). We need to put most our faith in the NT if we are to believe in a resurrection (although there is Daniel 12:2-3).
And what of the Trinity or dual nature of Christ? You could argue that Arius had as much biblical support for his position as Athanasius did. The church had to turn to philosophical categories it seems to hammer out these issues because the biblical language by itself did not settle the matter.
But are papal infallibility, purgatory, or the immaculate conception appropriate developments? I'm not sure that they contradict the biblical text as much as we sometimes act like they do, although clearly the Bible doesn't teach any of these things. LaHaye's interpretation of Revelation involves more "addition" to the Biblical text than a purgatory would, I think. But I don't accept these. I especially have questions about a solitary human authority over the church, although I understand he shares this power when he is not speaking ex cathedra.
I end with an affirmation of prophecy. While the primary role of an IWU is to prepare individuals for ministry, I believe another important role for a Christian religion department is to help the church think and reflect on itself. As Hesburgh, former president of Notre Dame put it, "This is where the church does its thinking."
I submit to the Christian communities to which I belong, authorities over me. I submit to the Wesleyan Church, and I submit to IWU. But I think communities like these need constructive criticism as well, even if they reject it in the end. When they reject it, it is my duty to submit to their rejections. But I think that it is healthy for a Wesleyan Church to have universities that reflect and critique it for the purpose of edification and growth. I do not mean of the cynical and destructive kind--that is unhealthy although far too common.
But I don't believe any earthly community of faith has it all figured out, and I think it is always healthy to have prophets among us who think they have corrective or steering words from God for our communities. A Christian university in a faith community seems a great place for prophets (and again, not cynics or skeptics).
I don't think the Roman church has as much room for prophets as it should. My greatest fear about Benedict XVI is that he will put the nail in the coffin on some issue that currently remains unresolved. I have a fear he will make some infallible statement on celibacy or birth control. Currently there is none, so these practices could currently be broadened even in the Catholic church.
But I fear a man who may want to make a point for God that God really doesn't want him to make. I doesn't matter whether birth control might help slow AIDS in Africa or if most American and European Catholics ignore Catholic teaching on birth control anyway. I fear a human with such overwhelming authority, yet who might in some instance have "a zeal without knowledge."
I wouldn't have chosen Ratzinger, but what do I know? He had the office of Chief Inquisitor, although they don't call it that anymore. It is he who stomped out Liberation Theology in Latin America (a good thing?). It is he who prohibited priests from running for public office (a good thing?). He has been behind the purging of liberal Catholic universities and seminaries (a good thing?).
In short, there will be no "development" of the sort American and European Catholics want. I did a Google on former Benedicts to try to find out what agenda might hide in this name. I came across Benedict XIV, who was a hard liner on giving in to cultural trends and lost many converts to Catholicism in the seventeen hundreds. Is this why Ratzinger took the name--because he plans on "taking a stand for absolute truth."
I just hope he does not make any "infallible" statements on issues still open for debate. As you might expect, I have serious questions about the idea of papal infallibility. I have problems when one person can encase traditions in stone that cannot change.
Acceptance of the theoretical possibility of change is inherent in Christian tradition. I can't listen to the words of the Bible and not conclude massive theological developments between the Old and New Testaments. The afterlife would be a major case in point since the OT has very little about it and some of what there is in the OT is against it (e.g., Job 14:13-22). We need to put most our faith in the NT if we are to believe in a resurrection (although there is Daniel 12:2-3).
And what of the Trinity or dual nature of Christ? You could argue that Arius had as much biblical support for his position as Athanasius did. The church had to turn to philosophical categories it seems to hammer out these issues because the biblical language by itself did not settle the matter.
But are papal infallibility, purgatory, or the immaculate conception appropriate developments? I'm not sure that they contradict the biblical text as much as we sometimes act like they do, although clearly the Bible doesn't teach any of these things. LaHaye's interpretation of Revelation involves more "addition" to the Biblical text than a purgatory would, I think. But I don't accept these. I especially have questions about a solitary human authority over the church, although I understand he shares this power when he is not speaking ex cathedra.
I end with an affirmation of prophecy. While the primary role of an IWU is to prepare individuals for ministry, I believe another important role for a Christian religion department is to help the church think and reflect on itself. As Hesburgh, former president of Notre Dame put it, "This is where the church does its thinking."
I submit to the Christian communities to which I belong, authorities over me. I submit to the Wesleyan Church, and I submit to IWU. But I think communities like these need constructive criticism as well, even if they reject it in the end. When they reject it, it is my duty to submit to their rejections. But I think that it is healthy for a Wesleyan Church to have universities that reflect and critique it for the purpose of edification and growth. I do not mean of the cynical and destructive kind--that is unhealthy although far too common.
But I don't believe any earthly community of faith has it all figured out, and I think it is always healthy to have prophets among us who think they have corrective or steering words from God for our communities. A Christian university in a faith community seems a great place for prophets (and again, not cynics or skeptics).
I don't think the Roman church has as much room for prophets as it should. My greatest fear about Benedict XVI is that he will put the nail in the coffin on some issue that currently remains unresolved. I have a fear he will make some infallible statement on celibacy or birth control. Currently there is none, so these practices could currently be broadened even in the Catholic church.
But I fear a man who may want to make a point for God that God really doesn't want him to make. I doesn't matter whether birth control might help slow AIDS in Africa or if most American and European Catholics ignore Catholic teaching on birth control anyway. I fear a human with such overwhelming authority, yet who might in some instance have "a zeal without knowledge."
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Left Behind Conference
I took some time off this morning to go to the Left Behind conference at Sunnycrest Baptist. It left me with the mix of feelings I have so often given the course of my life.
First, I believe that Sunnycrest Baptist Church is genuinely a force for good in this city of Marion, Indiana. This is a church that I think genuinely reaches out to this community. When I look at churches like it, I wonder how many lives are hanging on by just a thread--and it's the thread.
I might say similar things about the Left Behind series. From what I can tell, there are a lot of lives it has changed for the better. LaHaye tells stories of people who came to Christ after reading the books, and I believe it.
I noticed some things I liked about the way they presented their understandings. For one thing, they are so pre-tribulation rapture in orientation that it didn't quite have as much political impact as it might have. They emphasized that it was the rapture that would change everything, so the audience need not worry. They would be gone when everything went bad.
Of course there were some political implications, comments, and jokes. They were done in good spirit. There was one Gore play on words. Some careful wording distinguished between loving Muslim people and seeing Islam as the enemy of Christianity. The interpretations were up to date enough to include much stronger EU and post 9-11 anti-Islamic rhetoric.
But there was also some criticism of Bush's comments about Islam after 9-11 as well as some other policies that they felt were inappropriate given what was to come. One person was so bold as to say the audience would definitely see the rapture before they died (not said by LaHaye).
So why the mixed feelings? I left with the usual somberness because I feel that so much of this rehashed Darby model just isn't what the Bible says or what will happen. I find myself believing that I know that much of this force for good in the world is way off (and by "know" I mean I'm sure enough in my mind to say "know" rather than "think" or "feel").
For example, it would be hard for me to find a single Old Testament "prophecy" of LaHaye's sort that is fulfilled 100% literally in Jesus. LaHaye bolstered the faith of the audience by talk of the improbability that 109 prophecies about Jesus could all come true coincidentally in one person. I at least think I "know" that the vast majority of these 109 prophecies--perhaps all--were not originally 100% literally about Jesus.
So what am I to do? When I think a person's faith is inaccurately formulated, is it my task to correct them? I don't think it is if they're not hurting anyone. If they're hurting someone, intentionally or unintentionally, then I feel more of a burden. What about when teaching a college Bible class? I feel a little more obligation then, because college is not supposed to be Sunday School. But even then, its a dance, and I shouldn't be the one leading. My general rule is that "saving faith" trumps "truth" in my dealings with others.
So it's another day of life , another day of happiness and sobriety...
First, I believe that Sunnycrest Baptist Church is genuinely a force for good in this city of Marion, Indiana. This is a church that I think genuinely reaches out to this community. When I look at churches like it, I wonder how many lives are hanging on by just a thread--and it's the thread.
I might say similar things about the Left Behind series. From what I can tell, there are a lot of lives it has changed for the better. LaHaye tells stories of people who came to Christ after reading the books, and I believe it.
I noticed some things I liked about the way they presented their understandings. For one thing, they are so pre-tribulation rapture in orientation that it didn't quite have as much political impact as it might have. They emphasized that it was the rapture that would change everything, so the audience need not worry. They would be gone when everything went bad.
Of course there were some political implications, comments, and jokes. They were done in good spirit. There was one Gore play on words. Some careful wording distinguished between loving Muslim people and seeing Islam as the enemy of Christianity. The interpretations were up to date enough to include much stronger EU and post 9-11 anti-Islamic rhetoric.
But there was also some criticism of Bush's comments about Islam after 9-11 as well as some other policies that they felt were inappropriate given what was to come. One person was so bold as to say the audience would definitely see the rapture before they died (not said by LaHaye).
So why the mixed feelings? I left with the usual somberness because I feel that so much of this rehashed Darby model just isn't what the Bible says or what will happen. I find myself believing that I know that much of this force for good in the world is way off (and by "know" I mean I'm sure enough in my mind to say "know" rather than "think" or "feel").
For example, it would be hard for me to find a single Old Testament "prophecy" of LaHaye's sort that is fulfilled 100% literally in Jesus. LaHaye bolstered the faith of the audience by talk of the improbability that 109 prophecies about Jesus could all come true coincidentally in one person. I at least think I "know" that the vast majority of these 109 prophecies--perhaps all--were not originally 100% literally about Jesus.
So what am I to do? When I think a person's faith is inaccurately formulated, is it my task to correct them? I don't think it is if they're not hurting anyone. If they're hurting someone, intentionally or unintentionally, then I feel more of a burden. What about when teaching a college Bible class? I feel a little more obligation then, because college is not supposed to be Sunday School. But even then, its a dance, and I shouldn't be the one leading. My general rule is that "saving faith" trumps "truth" in my dealings with others.
So it's another day of life , another day of happiness and sobriety...
Saturday, April 09, 2005
The Schenck Innoculation
One dinner when I was doing my graduate studies in England, I sat down with an acquaintance of mine. The college was "evangelical Anglican" in its base, so I thought Will might be a Christian. Without any evangelistic purpose in mind, I asked him, "So are you a Christian, Will?"
The response was scolding, "No"--in that drawn out, pretentious sounding high English accent. "I'm an atheist--the thinking kind."
Well! He sure put me in my place :>)
Now I came to be pretty good friends with Will over the next three years, so I want you to know that I like Will. Intellectually, I don't have any problem with his position. On the other hand, I recognize this answer--it's the typical answer of an ignorant atheist. This is the type of person who has no idea just how deep some Christians think.
Now mind you, I'm not thinking of myself when I refer to deep thinking Christians. I'm talking about the people who astound me when I hear them or try to follow their thoughts. Read some Alvin Plantinga when he's at his deepest, or Richard Swinburne. I don't always agree with these guys, but it sure takes me several rereads even to understand what they're saying. I remember hearing Thomas Oden give his testimony once--I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. It was so far above my puny seminarian mind (mixed of course with a good dose of unnecessary pretention on his part, I might add--if I understand his personality rightly).
In the moment that Will made this comment I felt pretty sure that he really didn't know many "thinking" Christians. I'll be up front with you--I went through immense crises of faith in seminary and doctoral days. I basically came to the conclusion that the incarnation and the resurrection are the rock bottom core items of Christian faith. Everything else is icing on the cake.
I long ago concluded that if I ever abandoned either of these, then I would no longer be a "literal" Christian (of course I'm presuming the literal existence of God as well in all this, as well as other things like God's involvement in the universe, etc...). If I concluded these weren't true, I might call myself a Christian but I would have become a "metaphorical" Christian. Maybe you could call yourself a "Christian sentimentalist" or a "Christ-fearer" after you've left this building.
But make no mistake about it. The church owns the building, and the church believes in these things. If you decide you don't believe these things any more on intellectual grounds, that's fair enough. I deeply respect that. But you don't own the building, and you can't take it with you. Resign from your office as bishop or district superintendent.
John Dominic Crossan left the priesthood--I respect that (although I think he more left to get married). On the other hand, Sprague and Spong somehow think it's their task to make the church believe like them. I respect their intellectual positions (well, maybe Sprague's. Spong's a pseudo-intellectual who doesn't know what he's talking about). But they've forfeited their positions of authority in the Methodist and Episcopal churches. They can feel free to start their own metaphorical Christian church. I'll respect them for that.
By the way, I'm not talking about doubts here either. I could live with Crossan, Sprague, and Spong if they had genuine intellectual doubts but continued to live under the auspice of their offices.
Like I said, the incarnation and resurrection are the cake for me--everything else is icing. And there is a lot of icing to be sure. These aren't the only important things we believe, but they're the heart of what we believe.
I generally hesitate to share the full brunt of my own faith struggles because I know how much we like icing in our communities. I'd love you to believe much more than just the cake. But when you've found something that makes you think your faith world is collapsing around you, remember me.
There are some serious questions you'll come across if you pursue things long enough. Have you ever noticed that Mark says Jesus will appear to the disciples in Galilee, Paul says Jesus appeared first to Peter, John tells us first of him appearing to Mary Magdalene in Jerusalem, Luke only tells of appearances in Jerusalem. It's genuinely hard to fit the resurrection stories together if you've tried to do it on a historical basis. It can be done, if this is important to your faith.
But ultimately, my faith stands whether they can be fit together or not. "Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again." This I believe. And while I believe in the "icing" of the truthfulness of Scripture--it's icing. My faith in the resurrection would stand even if you could show me a thousand errors in the Bible. "On Christ, the solid rock, I stand. All other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand."
"God doesn't speak to me like He did to Moses." Sorry, who are you? You're not Moses, that's for sure. The truth doesn't care about anyone or anything. It just is. Get over it.
I'm not trying to take away any of the icing. I hope most of you will just think I'm odd or (worse) "liberal." But if one day you find yourself on the throes of a faith crisis, remember me. I concluded in my doctoral days that the reason my faith struggled so much was because no one ever clued me in on where the real stakes were. I grew up with an all or nothing kind of approach--"either every word of the Bible is true or none of it is true." I'm quite willing to believe in the truthfulness of the Bible, but its not where Christian faith ultimately collapses or stands. "On Christ, the solid rock, I stand."
So you're having questions about God? I'm genuinely sorry, and I'd love to talk. You're not having questions? Great! But I'd love you to keep me in mind if you ever do. I want you to know that there are plenty others who've had questions and have continued to believe. I want you to realize that there is no doubt you will ever have that someone else who believes hasn't had before you.
It was unfortunately not until I was in my twenties that something dawned on me. It suddenly occurred to me that my parents had already lived those same twenty years--about forty years earlier. Here so often I had thought I was teaching them something. Because it was the first time I was thinking something, I thought it must be the first time for them too. This is the arrogance of youth and of ignorance. There's not a thought any of us will ever have that a million others haven't had countless times in some similar form, even if our modern circumstances put new clothing on it.
It's the arrogant atheist that I find irritating. This is the person who acts like they've suddenly had some earthshaking thought no Christian has ever had before.
Ho hum. Been there, done that. Grow up. You having doubts about God? I respect that. And I respect the person who on intellectual grounds does not believe in God.
But don't pretend for one moment that you're any smarter than the countless Christian thinkers out there who had those same thoughts about forty years ago. No wait, try a thousand years ago for most of those doubts.
The response was scolding, "No"--in that drawn out, pretentious sounding high English accent. "I'm an atheist--the thinking kind."
Well! He sure put me in my place :>)
Now I came to be pretty good friends with Will over the next three years, so I want you to know that I like Will. Intellectually, I don't have any problem with his position. On the other hand, I recognize this answer--it's the typical answer of an ignorant atheist. This is the type of person who has no idea just how deep some Christians think.
Now mind you, I'm not thinking of myself when I refer to deep thinking Christians. I'm talking about the people who astound me when I hear them or try to follow their thoughts. Read some Alvin Plantinga when he's at his deepest, or Richard Swinburne. I don't always agree with these guys, but it sure takes me several rereads even to understand what they're saying. I remember hearing Thomas Oden give his testimony once--I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. It was so far above my puny seminarian mind (mixed of course with a good dose of unnecessary pretention on his part, I might add--if I understand his personality rightly).
In the moment that Will made this comment I felt pretty sure that he really didn't know many "thinking" Christians. I'll be up front with you--I went through immense crises of faith in seminary and doctoral days. I basically came to the conclusion that the incarnation and the resurrection are the rock bottom core items of Christian faith. Everything else is icing on the cake.
I long ago concluded that if I ever abandoned either of these, then I would no longer be a "literal" Christian (of course I'm presuming the literal existence of God as well in all this, as well as other things like God's involvement in the universe, etc...). If I concluded these weren't true, I might call myself a Christian but I would have become a "metaphorical" Christian. Maybe you could call yourself a "Christian sentimentalist" or a "Christ-fearer" after you've left this building.
But make no mistake about it. The church owns the building, and the church believes in these things. If you decide you don't believe these things any more on intellectual grounds, that's fair enough. I deeply respect that. But you don't own the building, and you can't take it with you. Resign from your office as bishop or district superintendent.
John Dominic Crossan left the priesthood--I respect that (although I think he more left to get married). On the other hand, Sprague and Spong somehow think it's their task to make the church believe like them. I respect their intellectual positions (well, maybe Sprague's. Spong's a pseudo-intellectual who doesn't know what he's talking about). But they've forfeited their positions of authority in the Methodist and Episcopal churches. They can feel free to start their own metaphorical Christian church. I'll respect them for that.
By the way, I'm not talking about doubts here either. I could live with Crossan, Sprague, and Spong if they had genuine intellectual doubts but continued to live under the auspice of their offices.
Like I said, the incarnation and resurrection are the cake for me--everything else is icing. And there is a lot of icing to be sure. These aren't the only important things we believe, but they're the heart of what we believe.
I generally hesitate to share the full brunt of my own faith struggles because I know how much we like icing in our communities. I'd love you to believe much more than just the cake. But when you've found something that makes you think your faith world is collapsing around you, remember me.
There are some serious questions you'll come across if you pursue things long enough. Have you ever noticed that Mark says Jesus will appear to the disciples in Galilee, Paul says Jesus appeared first to Peter, John tells us first of him appearing to Mary Magdalene in Jerusalem, Luke only tells of appearances in Jerusalem. It's genuinely hard to fit the resurrection stories together if you've tried to do it on a historical basis. It can be done, if this is important to your faith.
But ultimately, my faith stands whether they can be fit together or not. "Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again." This I believe. And while I believe in the "icing" of the truthfulness of Scripture--it's icing. My faith in the resurrection would stand even if you could show me a thousand errors in the Bible. "On Christ, the solid rock, I stand. All other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand."
"God doesn't speak to me like He did to Moses." Sorry, who are you? You're not Moses, that's for sure. The truth doesn't care about anyone or anything. It just is. Get over it.
I'm not trying to take away any of the icing. I hope most of you will just think I'm odd or (worse) "liberal." But if one day you find yourself on the throes of a faith crisis, remember me. I concluded in my doctoral days that the reason my faith struggled so much was because no one ever clued me in on where the real stakes were. I grew up with an all or nothing kind of approach--"either every word of the Bible is true or none of it is true." I'm quite willing to believe in the truthfulness of the Bible, but its not where Christian faith ultimately collapses or stands. "On Christ, the solid rock, I stand."
So you're having questions about God? I'm genuinely sorry, and I'd love to talk. You're not having questions? Great! But I'd love you to keep me in mind if you ever do. I want you to know that there are plenty others who've had questions and have continued to believe. I want you to realize that there is no doubt you will ever have that someone else who believes hasn't had before you.
It was unfortunately not until I was in my twenties that something dawned on me. It suddenly occurred to me that my parents had already lived those same twenty years--about forty years earlier. Here so often I had thought I was teaching them something. Because it was the first time I was thinking something, I thought it must be the first time for them too. This is the arrogance of youth and of ignorance. There's not a thought any of us will ever have that a million others haven't had countless times in some similar form, even if our modern circumstances put new clothing on it.
It's the arrogant atheist that I find irritating. This is the person who acts like they've suddenly had some earthshaking thought no Christian has ever had before.
Ho hum. Been there, done that. Grow up. You having doubts about God? I respect that. And I respect the person who on intellectual grounds does not believe in God.
But don't pretend for one moment that you're any smarter than the countless Christian thinkers out there who had those same thoughts about forty years ago. No wait, try a thousand years ago for most of those doubts.
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