I've decided to pick back up on the discipline of the blog. I will pray that I can stick with it, and not be distracted by life, but I will also pray for forgiveness when I do. I've been thinking a lot about tithing lately, and tithing my time, as well as my money, in this way, seems appropriate to my gifts.
The reading for today, which was the first day I picked up a bible in a *long* time, was Deuteronomy 5:1-6:25 and Luke 7:11-35. Surprisingly (although not really, when one recognizes God's influence in one's life, and His responses to prayers) was the fact that the first time I picked up the bible in forever, I had one of the most salient portions of OT scripture written, the section concerning the 10 commandments.
When Moses is talking with God, after delivering the 10 commandments, and after the people, trembling in fear, ask him to talk more with God, God, understanding human nature, prospectively bemoans the fate of humanity. He states, "Oh, that they would always have hearts like this, that they might fear me and obey all my commands! If they did, they and their descendants would prosper forever."
God offers a glimpse of future changes in perspective, creating changes in focus for His people, knowing how their hearts will fall away, and grieving the fall. He offers a promise, yet knows that the promise will not be fulfilled. It's interesting to think of God in pain, but He sounds, in this section, like His heart is breaking for humanity.
Putting aside all the predeterministic doctrinal theology that this concept conjures, and just looking at it on its face, it's a telling commentary on the temporal nature of faith from a race of humans, easily distracted in this world. He knows that future advancements in knowledge, and the search for knowledge for the sake of knowledge, even well intentioned, will become its own focus, its own god, in its time, and His promises will go largely unheard, and unheeded.
The echoes of this thought are discussed later in the same reading, in Deuteronomy 6:20.
"In the future, your children will ask you, 'What is the meaning of these stipulations, laws, and regulations that the Lord our God has given us?' Then you must tell them, 'We were Pharaoh's slaves in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with amazing power.' "
Later in this section, "...and the Lord our God commanded us to obey all these laws and to fear him, for our prosperity and well-being as is now the case. For we are righteous when we obey all the commands the Lord our God has given us."
The presage of the ultimate change in perspective of future generations to look back and wonder, why, about the validity of these commandments is clearly demonstrated in this section. I hear, so often, about the change in society, technology, and morality obviating these archaic rules. Why should we follow rules of a primitive culture, when we are no longer primitives? I know I am the future generation that the bible discusses.
The bible in this section instructs us to put these rules in reference to the current events of the time, as a way of explaining them, but clearly uses the present tense when describing the validity of the rules.
We *are* righteous when we obey all the commands the Lord our God has given us.
The Bible doesn't say, it was a bad time then, and we "were" righteous, when we "followed" them. It is that we "are" righteous in following them, despite the technologically less advanced status of humanity at that time. The validity of the commandments is unchanging, despite the cultural change that is, and will always be, upcoming. As God bemoans His future displacement in the worship of His people, He knows that the temporal changing of society will tempt a re-interpretation of these commands, and that the children of future generations will ask not only for historical perspective, but moral perspective as well, and so the present tense is emphasized here. We "are" righteous, despite ipods, ipads, internet, mp3's, test-tube babies, transgender assignment rights, etc, we "are" righteous when we obey the commands given to us in a history that may now seem irrelevant, but the commands remain valid despite a history that seems so removed.
What do the commandments say? I'm sure there are 6 billion interpretations of them, as people struggle with them personally. To me they say, seek significance in following Me, and you will always make the right choices. He gave us concrete examples to keep us focused on Him, by not coveting possessions of others, by dedicating time to Him, by explicitly outlawing *all* idolatry. It's about retaining focus, not on things of this world, but seeking God, first and foremost.
As future generations find idolatry in technology, and our attention is drawn away from Him, as He predicts, His heart breaks, as we see. Yet, focusing on Him, as the 10 commandments help us to do, creates righteousness, despite the future technological wonders we will be discovering. In the last section of the NT reading, Jesus comments on wisdom, in a way that reveals yet another echo to this.
"But wisdom is shown to be right by the lives of those who follow it." Luke 7:35
Even in the Proverbs reading of the day, "The fool will be a servant to the wise." (Proverbs 11:29)
Wisdom is defined as seeking God, fearing God, and honoring God, throughout the Bible. Not by making a god out of one's personal (and ultimately flawed, because we are human) rationalization of God's commands, as the Pharisees did, but by humbly seeking God in what we do. Technology changes. Culture changes. God, the nature of God, doesn't change, and wisdom lies in seeking that, honoring it, placing a desire for Him first and foremost in our hearts. Once we do that, we can look around at the technologic marvels in this world, and understand them in their true context, without making gods of them that we use to re-interpret God in their light. It's an issue of focus, and Jesus promises us that wisdom creates its own validity, provable by the lives of those who follow wisdom.
How many other things are there for this "future generation" to worship, besides God? Millions of things. Yet, overall, how many things are there to worship that will create righteousness? One, one God. What happens when our focus shifts to the worship of these millions of other things, and they become our god? I think that Tolstoy re-stated the answer simply, in the first line of "Anna Karenina,"
"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
Wisdom is a reflection of seeking the immutable nature of God, and placing that search first and foremost in our hearts, despite our temporal existence in a changeable world that tempts us to re-interpret the commands of God using current culture ethics. This re-interpretation automatically creates false gods out of the tools we choose to re-interpret, and ultimately makes gods of ourselves, as we *choose* the tools we decide to use to re-interpret God. These false gods lead us into being unhappy in the unique way offered by the false god one chooses to follow, delivering unhappiness to the third and fourth generation.
It has always been this way. It will always be this way. Therein lies the validity of seeking God, and honoring Him in the 10 commandments. We have historical perspective, but we have eternal truths, that exist beyond the temporal nature of this changing world. And we have been given proof, by Jesus, that this way will always work, and a grimly humorous reminder by Tolstoy, how other ways don't.
I sat on my deck today, and thanked God that He let me live long enought to outlive the foolish behavior of my earlier life, and offers me, every day, another chance for wisdom. Is that, in itself, wisdom? If so, then how blessed am I? How blessed are we all, that we have another day to seek Him?
Monday, March 26, 2012
Monday, October 18, 2010
Deacon Justifications
In today's reading, 1 Timothy 3:1-16, Paul touches on an interesting concept, the qualities of a church leader. He gives a listing of the characteristics of Deacons and Elders. Temperance, gentleness, peacefulness, maturity, faithfulness... And he states that those who exhibit these characteristics have the makings of a good deacon, as long as they have shown that they can fulfill the offices of the church well. "A deacon must be faithful to his wife, and he must manage his children and household well." (3:12)
I know of people who are temperate, gentle, peaceful, and faithful, who are dedicated to their families, and who are not deacons, and indeed, not Christians. I also know of church leaders who outwardly appear to be gentle and faithful, managing their family well, who are vicious and controlling of their family so that they can be perceived as "managing" their family well in order to "get" to be a deacon or other church leader.
Utilizing the appearance of faith as a justification of leadership seems to be as dangerous as utilizing the appearance of "non-faith" as a justification for the castigation of the "out-group," or those not of the faith. The simplistic, "if this, then this..." approach to the appearance of Godliness or the admission of faithlessness has always been the "easy way out" for a non-thoughtful or non-prayerful group of people. A failure to participate in the struggle of understanding, true understanding, is secondary to a complacent belief system that does not encourage that struggle.
Legalism creates a complacency by giving a rational justification to things, the myth that everything somehow has a rational explanation. If we believe that things can be explained, then we can be complacent that someone else will derive that explanation, and it is not our duty to find the explanation on our own. That is, if we believe in an "answer," then someone more skilled or more dedicated can be "trusted," blindly, to gain that rational answer, and will probably do so in a way that overshadows our own pursuit of that truth. Obviously, once we "trust" that person in the position of authority, our motivation to seek our truth can be subverted. That person we "trust" will find the "truth" we legalistically believe in, better than we can find it (by virtue of our "trust"), and we let that person do his or her job.
But what if there is not an answer, but we are still left with that longing for the answer? If we don't believe in rational, legalistic ideals (A deacon is a good person is a deacon is a good person is a deacon...), then if we remain hungry for a truth that can have no rational explanation, our hunger forces us to seek our own answers, not depending on someone who cannot find "the" truth, since our assumption is that there is no legalistic truth to be found.
Paul gives a great idea in this chapter, but laziness and complacency, fed by legalism, can corrupt his intent in a closed human system. Deacons can "abuse" their children, and not have it called "abuse" because they are deacons, and therefore are infallible. Their actions just become another word, called "management." Not being vigilant for the truth, not seeking God's mercy and love, not desperately trying to understand the interplay between accountability, justice, mercy, and love, creates a closed and frigid architecture under which horrible moral abuses can be justified.
It's our duty to delve, question, seek, and understand. It's our duty to apply accountability with love and mercy. It's our duty to save people from "management," misapplied. Paul had the right intent, but if we are lazy, it can have a truly terrible outcome for us, for children and families, and for those who love them.
I know of people who are temperate, gentle, peaceful, and faithful, who are dedicated to their families, and who are not deacons, and indeed, not Christians. I also know of church leaders who outwardly appear to be gentle and faithful, managing their family well, who are vicious and controlling of their family so that they can be perceived as "managing" their family well in order to "get" to be a deacon or other church leader.
Utilizing the appearance of faith as a justification of leadership seems to be as dangerous as utilizing the appearance of "non-faith" as a justification for the castigation of the "out-group," or those not of the faith. The simplistic, "if this, then this..." approach to the appearance of Godliness or the admission of faithlessness has always been the "easy way out" for a non-thoughtful or non-prayerful group of people. A failure to participate in the struggle of understanding, true understanding, is secondary to a complacent belief system that does not encourage that struggle.
Legalism creates a complacency by giving a rational justification to things, the myth that everything somehow has a rational explanation. If we believe that things can be explained, then we can be complacent that someone else will derive that explanation, and it is not our duty to find the explanation on our own. That is, if we believe in an "answer," then someone more skilled or more dedicated can be "trusted," blindly, to gain that rational answer, and will probably do so in a way that overshadows our own pursuit of that truth. Obviously, once we "trust" that person in the position of authority, our motivation to seek our truth can be subverted. That person we "trust" will find the "truth" we legalistically believe in, better than we can find it (by virtue of our "trust"), and we let that person do his or her job.
But what if there is not an answer, but we are still left with that longing for the answer? If we don't believe in rational, legalistic ideals (A deacon is a good person is a deacon is a good person is a deacon...), then if we remain hungry for a truth that can have no rational explanation, our hunger forces us to seek our own answers, not depending on someone who cannot find "the" truth, since our assumption is that there is no legalistic truth to be found.
Paul gives a great idea in this chapter, but laziness and complacency, fed by legalism, can corrupt his intent in a closed human system. Deacons can "abuse" their children, and not have it called "abuse" because they are deacons, and therefore are infallible. Their actions just become another word, called "management." Not being vigilant for the truth, not seeking God's mercy and love, not desperately trying to understand the interplay between accountability, justice, mercy, and love, creates a closed and frigid architecture under which horrible moral abuses can be justified.
It's our duty to delve, question, seek, and understand. It's our duty to apply accountability with love and mercy. It's our duty to save people from "management," misapplied. Paul had the right intent, but if we are lazy, it can have a truly terrible outcome for us, for children and families, and for those who love them.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
John is funny??
I have made no attempt to hide the fact that John's book is my least favorite gospel. But, today, maybe I might change my mind.
"Jesus' trial before Caiaphas ended in the early hours of the morning. Then he was taken to the headquarters of the Roman governor. His accusers didn't go in themselves because it would defile them, and they wouldn't be allowed to celebrate the Passover feast. So Pilate, the governor, went out to them and asked, "What is your charge against this man?"" John 18:28-29
Maybe others might not think this to be a funny quote, but it struck me as ridiculous. Here we have seen a defeated people, the jews, slaves once again in a Roman state, meeting under cover of night to hold a mock trial of another jew (to them). The priests, the only symbols of power in a defeated nation, trying desparately to maintain their tenuous earthly authority, have trumped up charges against a charismatic leader who has threatened to overturn their flimsy power structure. Pious and self-righteous in the extreme, they use their own self-justifying legalistic scriptural interpretation to condemn this man.
Clinging to this self-righteous piety to the end, they then refuse to enter a Roman household for fear that it would defile them to the point that they could not participate in the Passover feast. Brave men, indeed. A defeated nation, depending on the mercy of its oppressors not to kill each and every one of them, refusing to extend that same level of mercy to one of their own tribe, and yet able to cloak that lack of mercy in legalistic arguments used to keep their faith "pure." How ultimately pathetic!
The futile hypocrisy of these "priests" only justified the message of Jesus even greater than he could in his own sermons. By contrast to these laughable clowns, Jesus is magnified.
As I recall, this scene is only played out in the gospel of John. I have underestimated this gospel. Maybe next time, I will be more prepared to read it.
"Jesus' trial before Caiaphas ended in the early hours of the morning. Then he was taken to the headquarters of the Roman governor. His accusers didn't go in themselves because it would defile them, and they wouldn't be allowed to celebrate the Passover feast. So Pilate, the governor, went out to them and asked, "What is your charge against this man?"" John 18:28-29
Maybe others might not think this to be a funny quote, but it struck me as ridiculous. Here we have seen a defeated people, the jews, slaves once again in a Roman state, meeting under cover of night to hold a mock trial of another jew (to them). The priests, the only symbols of power in a defeated nation, trying desparately to maintain their tenuous earthly authority, have trumped up charges against a charismatic leader who has threatened to overturn their flimsy power structure. Pious and self-righteous in the extreme, they use their own self-justifying legalistic scriptural interpretation to condemn this man.
Clinging to this self-righteous piety to the end, they then refuse to enter a Roman household for fear that it would defile them to the point that they could not participate in the Passover feast. Brave men, indeed. A defeated nation, depending on the mercy of its oppressors not to kill each and every one of them, refusing to extend that same level of mercy to one of their own tribe, and yet able to cloak that lack of mercy in legalistic arguments used to keep their faith "pure." How ultimately pathetic!
The futile hypocrisy of these "priests" only justified the message of Jesus even greater than he could in his own sermons. By contrast to these laughable clowns, Jesus is magnified.
As I recall, this scene is only played out in the gospel of John. I have underestimated this gospel. Maybe next time, I will be more prepared to read it.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Lessons in justice and legalism
"'You are a better man than I am, for you have repaid me good for evil.'" 1 Samuel 24:17, Saul to David
"But he has repaid me evil for good. May God deal with me severely if even one man of his household is still alive tomorrow morning!" 1 Samuel 25 21-22
The second quotation deals with a familiar concept of injustice. David had protected Nabal's sheep, and yet Nabal rejects David's request for assistance. We can see that the reactions do not match the intent behind the initial actions, and so we understand David's rage, even if our less warlike society might disagree with David's plans for mass murder. In Judaic terms, letting an injustice go, unanswered, is a sin, and asking God to bless one's correction of injustice is not only asking a blessing, but also a holy command to enforce justice.
But, what about the first quotation. Wasn't it just as unjust? Here is David, fighting Saul's wars for him, and being hunted like a dog by Saul. Yet, when David has the opportunity to kill Saul, he refrains. David's intent is to honor God by not killing God's anointed, Saul. Saul, in his viewpoint, cedes that David is a better man than Saul. But, wasn't David's action unjust in its own way? Where is the holy command to enforce the justice owed to David by Saul's actions?
David defers that justice to God at one point, but then takes justice on his own at another point. This dichotomous behavior points out some of the inevitable tension between accountability (legalism) and the process of deconstructive reasoning. How is it that a supposedly legalistic society can pick and choose, like a Chinese menu, which "injustice" to avenge, and which "injustice" to praise. It basically comes down to an issue of interpretation, which runs completely counter to the principles of legalism.
Legalism is adherence to doctrinal purity, and at its core is anti-interpretative. Yet, David picks and chooses which injustice to avenge based on his own interpretation of God's will as it relates to him. Remember that God hardened Pharaoh's heart for His purposes. How does David know that God did not harden Nabal's heart. We see no record of that, but the Jews in Egypt also did not know (having not read a document that had not yet been written) that God worked in Pharaoh's heart.
Jesus offers a solution to this conundrum in the John.
"Don't believe me unless I carry out my Father's work. But if I do his work, believe in what I have done, even if you don't believe me. Then you will realize that the Father is in me and I am in the Father." (John 10:37-38)
His instructions are to seek God's will in assessing the veracity of His claims. He does not come to espouse a legalism of faith, but a process of discernment. It is sad that so many of today's "Christians" seem to worship Him in legalism rather than in that process of discernment. They fall back onto human interpretations of rules and regulations, as a simpler answer to a complex question. By retreating from the intellectual challenge offered by Christ, and judging Christ in human terms, they fail in the intellectual challenges offered by the process of faith encouraged by the one they supposedly "worship."
And so they march on churches who dare to follow Christ's instructions to seek Him. They throw stones, foam at the mouth, scream obscenities in "His name," all the while using Him as a shield for their own anger, their own fears. Maybe I am letting too much of myself come into this interpretation, but I am sad when I see legalistic Christianity.
"But he has repaid me evil for good. May God deal with me severely if even one man of his household is still alive tomorrow morning!" 1 Samuel 25 21-22
The second quotation deals with a familiar concept of injustice. David had protected Nabal's sheep, and yet Nabal rejects David's request for assistance. We can see that the reactions do not match the intent behind the initial actions, and so we understand David's rage, even if our less warlike society might disagree with David's plans for mass murder. In Judaic terms, letting an injustice go, unanswered, is a sin, and asking God to bless one's correction of injustice is not only asking a blessing, but also a holy command to enforce justice.
But, what about the first quotation. Wasn't it just as unjust? Here is David, fighting Saul's wars for him, and being hunted like a dog by Saul. Yet, when David has the opportunity to kill Saul, he refrains. David's intent is to honor God by not killing God's anointed, Saul. Saul, in his viewpoint, cedes that David is a better man than Saul. But, wasn't David's action unjust in its own way? Where is the holy command to enforce the justice owed to David by Saul's actions?
David defers that justice to God at one point, but then takes justice on his own at another point. This dichotomous behavior points out some of the inevitable tension between accountability (legalism) and the process of deconstructive reasoning. How is it that a supposedly legalistic society can pick and choose, like a Chinese menu, which "injustice" to avenge, and which "injustice" to praise. It basically comes down to an issue of interpretation, which runs completely counter to the principles of legalism.
Legalism is adherence to doctrinal purity, and at its core is anti-interpretative. Yet, David picks and chooses which injustice to avenge based on his own interpretation of God's will as it relates to him. Remember that God hardened Pharaoh's heart for His purposes. How does David know that God did not harden Nabal's heart. We see no record of that, but the Jews in Egypt also did not know (having not read a document that had not yet been written) that God worked in Pharaoh's heart.
Jesus offers a solution to this conundrum in the John.
"Don't believe me unless I carry out my Father's work. But if I do his work, believe in what I have done, even if you don't believe me. Then you will realize that the Father is in me and I am in the Father." (John 10:37-38)
His instructions are to seek God's will in assessing the veracity of His claims. He does not come to espouse a legalism of faith, but a process of discernment. It is sad that so many of today's "Christians" seem to worship Him in legalism rather than in that process of discernment. They fall back onto human interpretations of rules and regulations, as a simpler answer to a complex question. By retreating from the intellectual challenge offered by Christ, and judging Christ in human terms, they fail in the intellectual challenges offered by the process of faith encouraged by the one they supposedly "worship."
And so they march on churches who dare to follow Christ's instructions to seek Him. They throw stones, foam at the mouth, scream obscenities in "His name," all the while using Him as a shield for their own anger, their own fears. Maybe I am letting too much of myself come into this interpretation, but I am sad when I see legalistic Christianity.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Think this through and you will see that I am right.
As hesitant as I am to pull my topic from the Gospel of John, this quotation really struck me.
When defending Himself from the Pharisees for working on the Sabbath, Jesus states that many Jews work on the Sabbath by performing circumcisions on the Sabbath, if the timing fits for the child to be circumcised that day. His response was this:
"So why should I be condemned for making a man completely well on the Sabbath? Think this through and you will see that I am right." John 7:23-24
So, how do we think this through? Well, it goes back to the moral authority of legalism. We have two choices when it comes to Bible interpretation. Biblical commands and edicts are either NOT open to interpretation, or they are. If one believes that they are not open to interpretation, then every single command of the bible must be followed. This would be the legalist's stance. If the Lord tells us to forgive our debts every seven years, then we must do this. If the Lord tells us to celebrate the year of Jubilee, then we must do as He says. The bible cannot, in this system, be a Chinese menu of options. I'll have the 1st, 3rd, and 5th commandments, please... You can hold the rest...
No, the legalistic stance, which was the stance favored by the Pharisees, was that biblical commands were not open to interpretation, and therefore holiness could be gauged by one's adherence to these commands. However, if even one of those proscriptions is violated, where is one's moral authority to pick and choose which command to follow and which command to neglect?
In other words, once a person decides to let one of the commands slip, say, Saturday circumcisions, how does one then justify a blind adherence to legalism in which one then would be committing sin by performing such an act? By ignoring the proscription about circumcision, the violator has two choices. He has to either acknowledge his action as sin, or state that it is not a sin, thereby opening up the bible to interpretation.
If he acknowledges his action as sin, then he is condemning the child, circumcised in sin. But if he opens the bible to interpretation, then he has no "God-Granted" moral authority to deny another's right to interpret the bible as he, or He, may see fit.
By telling the crowd this truth, Jesus encouraged them to use their intellect to see through the smokescreen of oppressive, abusive, legalism, and find a new path to God.
But that is the problem. Once one starts down that slippery slope of interpretive excess, where does it stop? Left unfettered, the process tends toward Derrida's deconstructionist stance, and we lose God in the process. Jesus preemptive response, given before his encouragement of intellect, was to state, "I'm not teaching my own ideas, but those of God who sent me. Anyone who wants to do the will of God will know whether my teaching is from God or is merely my own." John 7:16-17
Jesus speaks of a dedication to God, even while breaking the culture of legalism imposed by strict adherence to Judaic law. Interpretation of the bible must always be performed with an earnest desire to follow God. The interpretive meaning gained is only valid if it is in accordance with the "one who sent them" (John 7:18).
Here's the final trick. How do we know God's will? If we have established that we are unable to know it from legalistic means, as Jesus demonstrated by the example of the discordance between legalistic interpretation (circumcision is okay, but healing is not, in this example) then the only other avenue to seek God's will is non-legalistic, or highly personalized. The highly personalized approach to biblical interpretation, so that it is not left chaotic, is to ensure that the interpretation follows the will of God, and the only way to do that is to ask Him.
Ask God. In all one does, all the time, every day. Seek His will.
Seek His will, but, think it through. Pray, but also use your brain and learn His book. Don't adopt a legalistic response, but also don't reject biblical instruction. Pray, and seek his will in the setting of biblical study. Jesus promised that you will see that He is right.
When defending Himself from the Pharisees for working on the Sabbath, Jesus states that many Jews work on the Sabbath by performing circumcisions on the Sabbath, if the timing fits for the child to be circumcised that day. His response was this:
"So why should I be condemned for making a man completely well on the Sabbath? Think this through and you will see that I am right." John 7:23-24
So, how do we think this through? Well, it goes back to the moral authority of legalism. We have two choices when it comes to Bible interpretation. Biblical commands and edicts are either NOT open to interpretation, or they are. If one believes that they are not open to interpretation, then every single command of the bible must be followed. This would be the legalist's stance. If the Lord tells us to forgive our debts every seven years, then we must do this. If the Lord tells us to celebrate the year of Jubilee, then we must do as He says. The bible cannot, in this system, be a Chinese menu of options. I'll have the 1st, 3rd, and 5th commandments, please... You can hold the rest...
No, the legalistic stance, which was the stance favored by the Pharisees, was that biblical commands were not open to interpretation, and therefore holiness could be gauged by one's adherence to these commands. However, if even one of those proscriptions is violated, where is one's moral authority to pick and choose which command to follow and which command to neglect?
In other words, once a person decides to let one of the commands slip, say, Saturday circumcisions, how does one then justify a blind adherence to legalism in which one then would be committing sin by performing such an act? By ignoring the proscription about circumcision, the violator has two choices. He has to either acknowledge his action as sin, or state that it is not a sin, thereby opening up the bible to interpretation.
If he acknowledges his action as sin, then he is condemning the child, circumcised in sin. But if he opens the bible to interpretation, then he has no "God-Granted" moral authority to deny another's right to interpret the bible as he, or He, may see fit.
By telling the crowd this truth, Jesus encouraged them to use their intellect to see through the smokescreen of oppressive, abusive, legalism, and find a new path to God.
But that is the problem. Once one starts down that slippery slope of interpretive excess, where does it stop? Left unfettered, the process tends toward Derrida's deconstructionist stance, and we lose God in the process. Jesus preemptive response, given before his encouragement of intellect, was to state, "I'm not teaching my own ideas, but those of God who sent me. Anyone who wants to do the will of God will know whether my teaching is from God or is merely my own." John 7:16-17
Jesus speaks of a dedication to God, even while breaking the culture of legalism imposed by strict adherence to Judaic law. Interpretation of the bible must always be performed with an earnest desire to follow God. The interpretive meaning gained is only valid if it is in accordance with the "one who sent them" (John 7:18).
Here's the final trick. How do we know God's will? If we have established that we are unable to know it from legalistic means, as Jesus demonstrated by the example of the discordance between legalistic interpretation (circumcision is okay, but healing is not, in this example) then the only other avenue to seek God's will is non-legalistic, or highly personalized. The highly personalized approach to biblical interpretation, so that it is not left chaotic, is to ensure that the interpretation follows the will of God, and the only way to do that is to ask Him.
Ask God. In all one does, all the time, every day. Seek His will.
Seek His will, but, think it through. Pray, but also use your brain and learn His book. Don't adopt a legalistic response, but also don't reject biblical instruction. Pray, and seek his will in the setting of biblical study. Jesus promised that you will see that He is right.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The corollary of action
Today, I am parting from my customary comment on the reading of the day and instead, going back one day. That's because I had to think about this one overnight.
Yesterday's OT reading described God's interaction during the initial meeting between Samuel and Saul. As a quick refresher, God told Saul that he would meet the person who would be the future king of Israel as a man wandering from the tribe of Benjamin the next day.
Saul, in his effort to find a pair of donkeys that had strayed from his father's farm, just happened to be the man from the tribe of Benjamin the next day. Samuel meets Saul and the rest, as is so often tritely said, was history.
This is a quickly encapsulated vignette that is not so rare in itself but does raise, as other stories do, implications for our understanding of a moral God.
Obviously, God is described in this story as having His hand in the meeting between Samuel and Saul, as we assume He has His hands in all our lives. But did He cause the donkeys to wander off, so that Saul would happen to be the man from Benjamin that Samuel meets? Did Saul have a date with someone that he had to cancel so he could go find the irksome donkeys? What an aggravation! How many aggravations do we suffer daily that we don't see, initially, God's hands in? If we get into a car wreck, and happen to meet someone who radically changes our lives, does God cause that car wreck? Or does God pick and choose when to interfere in human destiny?
And if He picks when to interfere (causing the donkeys to stray), does He also pick when *not* to interfere (allowing mechanical failure to cause a plane to crash, and refusing to intercede when it may be your relative who is killed in the crash)?
Or did He just know that the donkeys were going to stray, and on that day choose to tell Samuel about it? Wouldn't that still be an action? Because if God acts in our lives, then the corollary of all His actions are His "inactions" to prevent the tragedies around us that are seemingly, seemingly, random.
Or are we supposed to interpret this section as a metaphor for Samuel's desire to choose a tall good-looking hillbilly as his pawn for the King of Israel? And if so, do we then go back to the non-legalistic, deconstructionist view of the bible, following that course of logic back to the destruction of moral authority espoused by the Bible? If we lose the moral authority of the bible, then what text will fill the vacuum that loss leaves behind as the text most closely representing the fundamental moral truth of the universe?
So, thinking about all this overnight, I was left again with the desire to pray and ask God for guidance. It was the fact that I had that desire to seek Him that made me wonder, is that what all this is about, leaving us with the hunger for Him, a hunger we always have but never can fully appease? Isn't that enough for us?
A story about a random set of coincidences reminds us that we are not on a linear path of our lives, but are meandering about instead, and we always need to be on high moral alert for those whom God places in that path.
Yesterday's OT reading described God's interaction during the initial meeting between Samuel and Saul. As a quick refresher, God told Saul that he would meet the person who would be the future king of Israel as a man wandering from the tribe of Benjamin the next day.
Saul, in his effort to find a pair of donkeys that had strayed from his father's farm, just happened to be the man from the tribe of Benjamin the next day. Samuel meets Saul and the rest, as is so often tritely said, was history.
This is a quickly encapsulated vignette that is not so rare in itself but does raise, as other stories do, implications for our understanding of a moral God.
Obviously, God is described in this story as having His hand in the meeting between Samuel and Saul, as we assume He has His hands in all our lives. But did He cause the donkeys to wander off, so that Saul would happen to be the man from Benjamin that Samuel meets? Did Saul have a date with someone that he had to cancel so he could go find the irksome donkeys? What an aggravation! How many aggravations do we suffer daily that we don't see, initially, God's hands in? If we get into a car wreck, and happen to meet someone who radically changes our lives, does God cause that car wreck? Or does God pick and choose when to interfere in human destiny?
And if He picks when to interfere (causing the donkeys to stray), does He also pick when *not* to interfere (allowing mechanical failure to cause a plane to crash, and refusing to intercede when it may be your relative who is killed in the crash)?
Or did He just know that the donkeys were going to stray, and on that day choose to tell Samuel about it? Wouldn't that still be an action? Because if God acts in our lives, then the corollary of all His actions are His "inactions" to prevent the tragedies around us that are seemingly, seemingly, random.
Or are we supposed to interpret this section as a metaphor for Samuel's desire to choose a tall good-looking hillbilly as his pawn for the King of Israel? And if so, do we then go back to the non-legalistic, deconstructionist view of the bible, following that course of logic back to the destruction of moral authority espoused by the Bible? If we lose the moral authority of the bible, then what text will fill the vacuum that loss leaves behind as the text most closely representing the fundamental moral truth of the universe?
So, thinking about all this overnight, I was left again with the desire to pray and ask God for guidance. It was the fact that I had that desire to seek Him that made me wonder, is that what all this is about, leaving us with the hunger for Him, a hunger we always have but never can fully appease? Isn't that enough for us?
A story about a random set of coincidences reminds us that we are not on a linear path of our lives, but are meandering about instead, and we always need to be on high moral alert for those whom God places in that path.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
...whatever seemed right...
"In those days Israel had no king, so the people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes." Judges 21:25
I have just gotten through the last section of Judges. Seemingly a litany of inappropriate or immoral behavior (by today's standards), it does have within it some gems of appropriate and moral behavior. However, the apologist view at the end of the book is the description given above. The people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes.
"in their own eyes" seems to fly in the face of legalism. If legalism can be defined as adherence to an external reference standard, mutually agreed upon by believers in that faith system, then behavior described by the term "whatever seemed right" by definition is anti-legalistic. Had the people agreed to pursue a single course of action, then this description of their behavior would not be applicable. That is, the book of Judges would not be a history of defeats, failures, immorality, and chaos punctuated by brief periods of enlightenment and morality. It seems that the writer of the history is basing his argument for a belief in a legalistic code of conduct by describing the variety of immoral acts committed by the people of Israel (kidnapping women to "get around" the proscription of a prior oath, etc).
So, what then should be done? What lessons are to be learned? It seems that the quotation above gives a two pronged answer. First, there must be an earthly "king." The quotation implies that because there was no earthly king, the people did whatever seemed right. The deeper concern below the denotation of the words would be their connotation, that the "whatever seemed right" was, in fact, wrong, and that adherence to a reference standard, or legalism, was the answer.
So, we need a king, and we need legalism. Earlier in the blog, I have discussed Jesus' description of legalism, and the corruption of legalism by Pharisaical behavior. As much as I personally dislike reading the Gospel of John, today's reading had an interesting answer that spoke directly to this argument.
When discussing the difference between Jews and Samaritans, Jesus downplays the differences between the two, and describes the fundamental ideas behind worship. "For God is Spirit, so those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth." (John 4:24)
Most of us can agree on the intent of the spirit. Faithfulness to an idea, or a deity, is pretty similar. It hits a fundamental part of our consciousness that is relatively similar among all humans, regardless of nationality or of belief system. As a species, it seems to be in our genetics. The second point of his sentence is where the complexities arise.
"...in truth"
Whose truth? What human form does that "truth" take? Is it in turning prayer wheels in Thailand, waving incense burners in Italy, or falling on the floor and speaking in tongues in Alabama? Does the fundamental differences in these behaviors come down to the argument of "whatever seems right" to the people, or can we tend back toward a legalistic approach of a unified set of conduct so we are not tempted to do whatever seems right in our own eyes, and justify mass kidnapping, murder, or rape?
It is that push-pull of Christian worship that seems to keep the majority of worshippers on the appropriate road, headed in the right direction. Most of us walk that road without much problem, looking off in the distance at those who stray and fall to the side in their (what we might call "insane") interpretations of "whatever seems right."
But the formula of pushing and pulling over the ages seems to tend to be a guide which has worked pretty well in getting us as a species to move forward and slowly evolve to a more moral civilization. People can always look at some of the institutionalized abuses today (human trafficking, etc.) and say we are de-evolving, morally, but while that particular problem is epidemic, the response to it is one of outrage, not of accepted commerce (e.g., temple prostitution), and so the civilization as a whole, despite its obvious shortcomings, is advancing via this push-pull between "spirit" and "truth."
Obviously, there is no ultimate answer except adherence to the process. We will never get it "right" but we can pursue the attempt to understand how to get it "more" right, and it is in the pursuit that the answer lies, I believe. It's that pursuit that keeps us from settling for "whatever seems right" and yet steers us away from the corruption of legalism, keeping us focused, ahead, on God.
I have just gotten through the last section of Judges. Seemingly a litany of inappropriate or immoral behavior (by today's standards), it does have within it some gems of appropriate and moral behavior. However, the apologist view at the end of the book is the description given above. The people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes.
"in their own eyes" seems to fly in the face of legalism. If legalism can be defined as adherence to an external reference standard, mutually agreed upon by believers in that faith system, then behavior described by the term "whatever seemed right" by definition is anti-legalistic. Had the people agreed to pursue a single course of action, then this description of their behavior would not be applicable. That is, the book of Judges would not be a history of defeats, failures, immorality, and chaos punctuated by brief periods of enlightenment and morality. It seems that the writer of the history is basing his argument for a belief in a legalistic code of conduct by describing the variety of immoral acts committed by the people of Israel (kidnapping women to "get around" the proscription of a prior oath, etc).
So, what then should be done? What lessons are to be learned? It seems that the quotation above gives a two pronged answer. First, there must be an earthly "king." The quotation implies that because there was no earthly king, the people did whatever seemed right. The deeper concern below the denotation of the words would be their connotation, that the "whatever seemed right" was, in fact, wrong, and that adherence to a reference standard, or legalism, was the answer.
So, we need a king, and we need legalism. Earlier in the blog, I have discussed Jesus' description of legalism, and the corruption of legalism by Pharisaical behavior. As much as I personally dislike reading the Gospel of John, today's reading had an interesting answer that spoke directly to this argument.
When discussing the difference between Jews and Samaritans, Jesus downplays the differences between the two, and describes the fundamental ideas behind worship. "For God is Spirit, so those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth." (John 4:24)
Most of us can agree on the intent of the spirit. Faithfulness to an idea, or a deity, is pretty similar. It hits a fundamental part of our consciousness that is relatively similar among all humans, regardless of nationality or of belief system. As a species, it seems to be in our genetics. The second point of his sentence is where the complexities arise.
"...in truth"
Whose truth? What human form does that "truth" take? Is it in turning prayer wheels in Thailand, waving incense burners in Italy, or falling on the floor and speaking in tongues in Alabama? Does the fundamental differences in these behaviors come down to the argument of "whatever seems right" to the people, or can we tend back toward a legalistic approach of a unified set of conduct so we are not tempted to do whatever seems right in our own eyes, and justify mass kidnapping, murder, or rape?
It is that push-pull of Christian worship that seems to keep the majority of worshippers on the appropriate road, headed in the right direction. Most of us walk that road without much problem, looking off in the distance at those who stray and fall to the side in their (what we might call "insane") interpretations of "whatever seems right."
But the formula of pushing and pulling over the ages seems to tend to be a guide which has worked pretty well in getting us as a species to move forward and slowly evolve to a more moral civilization. People can always look at some of the institutionalized abuses today (human trafficking, etc.) and say we are de-evolving, morally, but while that particular problem is epidemic, the response to it is one of outrage, not of accepted commerce (e.g., temple prostitution), and so the civilization as a whole, despite its obvious shortcomings, is advancing via this push-pull between "spirit" and "truth."
Obviously, there is no ultimate answer except adherence to the process. We will never get it "right" but we can pursue the attempt to understand how to get it "more" right, and it is in the pursuit that the answer lies, I believe. It's that pursuit that keeps us from settling for "whatever seems right" and yet steers us away from the corruption of legalism, keeping us focused, ahead, on God.
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