Bad Meme Alert

A double-edged meme

A break from theology today to take on another one of my favorite subjects: meme analysis.

A friend of mine posted the above meme on Facebook.  (I posted a short response to him already...and remember, I love you guy, even if I don't find this meme compelling.)  I've seen memes like this before, and it's clear what the intended message is: when those of non-Native American descent criticize immigration, they're being hypocritical.  They (or their ancestors) were immigrants to the Americas, and it's hypocritical to be against immigration now, if you (or your ancestors) were beneficiaries  of immigration in the past.  In other words, it's criticizing our idea of fairness--having one standard of behavior for yourself (or your ancestors) and another for others.

If left at that level, this would be a pretty good message to support the idea of immigration.  No one wants to be a hypocrite (or at least called out as one).  Most of those with European ancestry here in the Americas feel at least a twinge of guilt over what was done to the Native Americans.  I mean, it's pretty hard to argue for the morality pushing people off their land and taking it for yourself simply because you're stronger than them and you can.

So we might say "Hey, I feel bad about what my ancestors did to the Native Americans.  And I'm a beneficiary of that.  And I can't be against refugees coming here, unless I also am against what my ancestors did.  And if I'm against what my ancestors did, I'd pack my bags and return to Europe if I really meant it."

But let's take a deeper look.

First, I think it's pretty uncontroversial to say that great evil was done against the Native Americans.  (And if someone brings up atrocities that Native Americans did to European immigrants, let's remember that we came uninvited.  Those atrocities could not have taken place had our ancestors stayed in their own homeland...just like if someone decided to take your house and you pushed back a little too vigorously)  So this brings up the first counter-point to the meme:  the Native American had a completely rational fear of immigrants.

Let that sink in: maybe in some cases it was just a handful of refugees who were more or less willing to live at peace with those already in the Americas (think the Pilgrims or Quakers).  But it's obvious that that was just the nose of the camel.  A Trumpesque Native American in the 17th century, crying alarm at immigration, was completely rational, as history bares out.  Many of the immigrants from Europe--it didn't have to be all of them, mind you--were willing to kill the Native Americans and steal their land that, in the end, the country was won for Europeans and lost for Natives.

And European Americans not only took the land, they attempted to stamp out Native cultures.  Forcing Native children to attend schools where only English was taught, and where their religious beliefs and practices were looked at as laughable superstition and they had to be "corrected" to become Christians in the way the Europeans understood Christianity to be.

So...if the Native Americans had a legitimate fear of immigration, perhaps those against immigration today have legitimate fears, too.  They may not, but this meme, rather than attempting to say "immigration is nothing to fear" does exactly the opposite.  By bringing up the fate of the Native Americans, one might think that it's perfectly legitimate to fear immigration.  Maybe people who come to this country with a completely alien way of life, with different values, could change the shape of this country.  Unquestionably, European immigration (and forced African immigration on slave ships) made the Americas incredibly changed from what the Natives had.  Can other waves of immigration further change this country as well?  (A melting pot doesn't make everyone like what was their before...it mixes what was here before with what comes later.)

Secondly: does anyone think that more immigration will help Native Americans?  At best, it would just mean status quo...but ultimately, it means a greater non-native population.  If it was wrong for non-natives to immigrate to America because of what it did to the Native American population, why would additional immigration be considered something that would help them?  Thus, bringing up sympathy for Native Americans as a reason to have sympathy for refugees makes little or no sense.  Just as European civilization was completely different from Native cultures, Middle Eastern, African, and Asian cultures are likewise alien to the Native American.  Indeed, additional immigration is actually the exact opposite of helping the Natives in their own lands.

Thirdly: very few Americans, no matter how guilty they might feel about what happened to the Native Americans, are actually going to do the one thing that they could do to address this specific thing: that is, give their property back to Native Americans, pack their bags, and return to their ancestral homeland.  That is a true cost, a true sacrifice.  But it could be done, and it would actually directly address the theft of Native lands.

You could also create a time machine to help Native Americans...



Instead, many will bizarrely double-down and essentially say: "Yeah, immigration was totally bad to the Native American peoples.  So because I feel bad about that, we need to do something about it.  What can we do?  More immigration!"

That, of course, makes less than zero sense.  But it's a lot easier to let someone move in (as long as they don't take your property directly) than to voluntarily move out and give away your property.  There is little direct cost in supporting immigration--and a pretty steep cost in supporting personal emigration.  And at least you can say "Hey, I'm not a hypocrite--my ancestors were immigrants, and I'm not barring new immigrants!"  The conscience is soothed at a relatively light cost.

There may be hundreds of reasons to be against immigration, and hundreds of reasons to be for it.  But, like most memes, this one adds little to the conversation, and indeed ends up failing to communicate what it's allegedly trying to.  Like all memes, it is more emotive than demonstrative.  Rational discussion and debate is short-circuited, and a false either/or binary choice is fostered: either you are for unlimited immigration with no restrictions, or you're a xenophobic isolationist who wants zero immigration.  Very few people actually fit into this binary pattern, but like all things on the Internet, it is easier to demonize and categorize than to have conversation and careful analysis.

More on the "Evil God" Hypothesis

Last post I ended by introducing Moralistic Therapeutic Deism (or MTD) that focused on a definition of "good" that assumed "good for me"--that God's essential purpose was to make my life pleasant, and my purpose was to experience that pleasure.  God wants nothing more than to make me happy.

Though common today, MTD is a parody of historical Christianity.  Indeed, it is essentially anti-Christian on several levels.

Primarily, consider what Jesus said here:

24 Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him wdeny himself and xtake up his cross and follow me. 25 For xwhoever would save his life7 will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 26 For ywhat will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or zwhat shall a man give in return for his soul? 27 aFor the Son of Man is going to come with bhis angels in the glory of his Father, and cthen he will repay each person according to what he has done. --Matt 16:24-27

Denial of self is not the telos of MTD.  It's the paradoxical claim of Christ: to find your life, you must lose it.  To lead means to serve.  Love your enemies, not hate them.

12 When he had washed their feet and hput on his outer garments and resumed his place, he said to them, i“Do you understand what I have done to you? 13 jYou call me kTeacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am. 14 If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, lyou also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have given you an example, mthat you also should do just as I have done to you. 16 Truly, truly, I say to you, na servant3 is not greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. 17 If you know these things, oblessed are you if you do them.--John 13:12-17

The key to life is death, and the key of leadership is servanthood.  We are to emulate this.  Yet, again with the paradoxical claims of Christ, He Himself is a servant of all.  He is Lord, yet serves--serves to the point of death.  And not just death for nice people...death for sinners in rebellion against Him (Rom 5:8).

So...God's goodness is shown in His service, God's love is manifest in His sacrifice.

And if we stopped there, we would have MTD.  But the Bible does not stop there.  Jesus taught us, like Him, to take up our cross and follow Him, to deny our life.  To seek not our comfort, our preeminence, our comfort, our glory.  He loved us enough to reach out to us, His enemies who quite literally hated Him, hated His call of Lordship over our lives, the One who dared call us to account as our Creator.  Yet despite this, He reached out to us and pulled us from the mire.

And His love continues--not just to rescue us from a deserved fate of eternity cut off from our Creator, but to make us as He is: loving, serving, sacrificing.

And again, if we stopped there, it would be pretty good--we need to do good to others, seek the best for others, and so on.  It would certainly make for a nicer planet.  But that would reduce Christianity to simply a system of ethics (mixed in with some sentimentality of heroic deaths).

No...we need to look beyond that call to why that call was made.  As Jesus prayed:

27 s“Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, tsave me from uthis hour’? But vfor this purpose I have come to uthis hour. 28 Father, glorify your name.” Then wa voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” --John 12:27-28

Jesus here says quite plainly: His purpose was to glorify God.  That was His focus--not sentimental love for the sick, but glorifying God.  That is His telos in life. 

Jesus repeats this several times in last days of His earthly life.  Glory to God was His motto.

11 In him we have obtained zan inheritance, ahaving been predestined baccording to the purpose of him who works all things according to cthe counsel of his will, 12 so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be dto the praise of his glory.  13 In him you also, when you heard ethe word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, fwere sealed with the gpromised Holy Spirit, 14 who is hthe guarantee4 of our iinheritance until jwe acquire kpossession of it,5 lto the praise of his glory. --Eph 1:11-13

Paul doesn't just say "we're saved--yay!"  He outlines the purpose: "to the praise of His glory."  Twice.

And this is not something isolated in Scripture.  Over and over again God acts for His Own glory.  For example, God defeats Pharaoh for His glory (Ex 14:17-18).  God seeks His glory in His actions.

The glory of God.  What does it mean?  Why does God seek it for Himself?  Does God do so because He is an insufferable egotist?  Some have said so, and indeed explicitly state that is one of the reasons they object to the theistic concept of God.  And I will address this concern more fully in my next post, God willing.

What if God was evil?

So last post I wrapped up the discussion on the "ick factor" by arguing that the foundations of all ethical systems essentially had presuppositions based upon what some find "icky."  We might find human suffering as distasteful, so we seek to limit it.  There are good, evolutionary reasons why we find certain things icky or distasteful--for example, if enough people found babies icky and distasteful (and maybe found infanticide not-icky), then the human race would quickly die out.

But it's hardly earth-shattering to accept these utilitarian arguments...nor do they offer any kind of ultimate moral clarity to the situation.  One can challenge the assumption that underlies this by asking "why is the survival of human beings considered a good?"  Indeed, in a materialist point of view, there is no "ultimate" good, no telos for the universe.  (One could argue, indeed, that the good of many species would be enhanced by humanity being taken out of the picture.  Indeed, some do argue this.)

So there is the non-materialist proposition: what if, beyond the cosmos, there is a Being (beyond Whom there is nothing greater) that has in mind a telos for the cosmos?  This is the usual answer of theistic systems when challenged to give a foundation for their moral framework: we believe that some things are good because they move us closer to the telos that God intended for the universe; other things are evil when they move us further away from that telos.

But, the materialist may argue, what if that telos is one of suffering and pain?  What if, in a word, God is evil?

And the materialist making this argument will gladly point out things in the universe as evidence to support this claim.  If there is a God, then why is there so much suffering?  Why do people who do evil things often prosper, and those who do good things suffer and die?

Or turning to the Bible, the materialist will point out events in which God does (or orders to be done) things that we might call "evil".  If he is good, why then is this the case?

There is a weak way to present this argument, and a stronger way.  The weak way is not conscious of the standard by which he or she is judging God's actions (or lack of action) as "good" or "evil."  This position is that of unexamined utilitarianism, where it's merely assumed that certain things are objectively "good" or "evil."  In effect, the materialist here neatly takes him- or herself out of the equation and assumes the position of moral arbiter, outside of the observed universe.  (This can also be a failing of the materialist view of rationality as well, but that topic's for another day.)

But the stronger approach doesn't make this error.  Rather, the stronger form looks for consistency in an ethical system.  If a purported ethical system is internally inconsistent, it is assumed false (such as a scientific model that is inconsistent in its approach.)  Thus, it makes no immediate judgment on the first principles; rather, it simply tests if these principles are consistently applied, and if not, it appears as though the system does not cohere, it does not "hang together"--it is incoherent.  It is not based on a single axiom from which the various points are related.

So to call God "good", one must have an idea of what is good.  Some theists will argue "good is whatever God wills", but then "good" simply becomes a synonym for "God's will" and it tells us nothing.  In the broadest sense, it would mean that there is nothing evil, for an all-powerful God can accomplish anything, and therefore, if He didn't want something to happen, He could and would stop it.  If it happens, He must be ok with it--therefore, by this definition, it cannot be evil, it is "God's will."  This isn't precisely Leibniz' optimism (since God is good, we live in "the best of all possible worlds"), it's simpler and broader than that: merely the assertion that if something happens, it's good, because "whatever is, is right" (yes, I know Pope was deeper than that--but this phrase sums up this view.)

Though some theists will accept this implication and be completely fatalistic, most theists have a concept of good and evil--yes, evil exists, but also yes, God is all-powerful.  How is this reconciled?

One thing to consider is that "good" must always have a referent.  That is, "good" is never abstract--it is always good--for whom?  Some might consider a well-prepared beefsteak as "good", with the unnecessary addition "for me" and ignore how the bovine who expired in order to harvest the steak may not consider it "good."  Indeed, a bear eating a human might subjectively consider the human a good meal (I don't know if bears feel this way, but the fact that the bear was nourished surely causes some primal sense of satisfaction in the ursoid brain), but humans will normally be horrified at the thought of anyone being eaten by a bear.

Now, as humans, we tend to think of "good" in the sense "good for humanity" (or, sometimes more selfishly but more honestly, "good for me.)  And again, we get back to the utilitarian assumptions of maximizing human happiness as a measurement of "good."  And in our particular western culture, it seems axiomatic that when we speak of God being good, we must mean that He's good for humanity.

Indeed, popular theology presents God as pretty much existing for the benefit of human beings.  This idea is often summed up as "Moralistic Therapeutic Deism" (MTD for short).  The idea is that God's identity of being "good" is fully identified as "good for people."  And the idea of what is good for people is bound up with temporal happiness and being nice.

But this idea is not necessarily where historic theism comes from.  Indeed, it is a relatively modern mutation of historic faith.  And I'll continue on this thought next post, God willing.

Click here to see the rest of this comic.

What We Find Icky...

 

Hates it, Hates it!!!!

 

The "ick" factor: you know what it is.  It's when you encounter something that makes you say, "that's disgusting."  It's a visceral reaction, not one made after long and reasoned research and debate.  Even if you don't want to react with disgust at something (and you might even not let others know how you feel--you've successfully hidden your gag reflex), you still feel...unclean.  Violated.  Offended.

 

Maybe it's certain food presented to you, like avocados or tomatoes (full: disclosure--I love both).  Or maybe it's even just thinking about eating something that personally disgusts you, like cockroaches or sheep's brains.  Even though you've never tried it, you are revolted at the thought.

  

In discussion of ethics and morality, there is sometimes mention of "the Ick factor" (or the "yuck factor.")  I see it frequently referred to in discussions about sexual ethics, and it usually is dismissed as a poor way to build an ethical system, that one's personal prejudices shouldn't be used as a basis for a "rational" ethical system.  One's personal disgust is considered a terribly basis for morality, and you must be a Very Bad Person to let your visceral reaction dictate right or wrong.  I mean, it wouldn't be fair to ban tofu just because you find it icky, do you?

 

 

Friends had a whole episode about the ick factor.  Yes, it was icky according to my prejudice.  And it made fun of something illegal in most states, that most people find very icky.  Ha-ha, look at the pedophiliac--all in good fun, of course.

 

Why, exactly?  Maybe because it's considered unfair, not nice, and...well, icky.

 

Huh.  The fact is, all morality has an element of "ick" factor built in.  You may have built an impressive ethical system, but at the very foundation of it are a set of presuppositions that seek to promote the non-icky and seek to limit the icky.

 

Oh, you might have first principles that many find admirable...stuff like "It's good to be fair" or "It's not nice to be violent."  But in the end, why do you find it good to be fair?  Why do you not like violence?

 

You might try pushing it back a step, saying that in order to build a society that is workable, that will not self-destruct in a morass of chaos and terror, you should adopt certain principles like "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" or "everybody wants to be closer to free."  Very utilitarian, of course.

 

But again, why should having a "workable society" be a goal?  I mean sure, most of us feel like we want a workable society.  But from a materialist perspective, there's nothing inherent in the universe that says "Intelligent Creatures Must Have Workable Societies and Continue to Thrive."  No, the universe doesn't think much of your idea that having intelligent creatures around is some teleological goal...again, from a materialist perspective.

Now, it may be true that unconsciously, most people think that it's a good thing to promote human flourishing.  Most normal people like the idea that people have healthy, happy lives.  Those that don't?  Well, they're icky.

But (again, from a materialist perspective) that doesn't make "survival of the species" some kind of noble goal that we should pat ourselves on the back for supporting.  It's fairly tautological: if most people didn't feel that way, the human race wouldn't survive long.  Two cheers for supporting the obvious.

But the idea of human flourishing tends to change over time, and we tend to find the ideas of human flourishing in the past to be, well, icky: we decry racism, sexism, patriarchy, etc.  We've "moved on."

Yet those ancient societies were relatively stable, at least over centuries, if not millennia.  The human race managed to survive (if that's your goal).  Sure, maybe millions perished in war and genocide, millions were enslaved, but hey, the race survived, so what is your problem with it?  Why do you find it "unfair" or "unjust"?  Why do yo find it, well, "icky"?  All those people would be dead now anyway, so what difference does it make now?

Liberal democracy (with reasonably free markets and a nice social safety net), as much as we might love it, is simply not the only way for humans to survive long-term.  And even if it were, so what?  There are a few species that would mourn the loss of humankind...others, not so much.

This little guy (Pediculus humanus capitis--aka, the head louse) might miss us, as he has no other host species.  I'm not sure if cows and pigs would shed too many tears, though.

 



One might build a nice ethical system--a logically consistent, beautifully constructed system--on a few first principles.  But those principles are, in the end, completely arbitrary (in a materialist worldview).

It's certainly fair to argue that one is inconsistent with one's stated first principles.  But often ethical judgements come down to this: your view is icky, mine is not--therefore, I am right.  Sometimes this is buttressed with the argument that "most people" agree with your ethical perspective.  Again, so what?  Though that might be a practical argument (that is, if you disagree with the majority's morality, you might find yourself in social--if not legal--hot water), it's hardly a self-evident "good" that "most people" support a certain value.  Societies can and do change, and even if you're comfortable with where a society is, and even the direction it appears to be going, that could turn on a dime.  Then...will you gladly trade your ethical system for the majorities?  (If everyone felt that way, why would ethical norms ever change?)

But again, I've been talking from a materialist point of view.  If there is an Inescapable God, the Creator of all that was, is, and ever will be, His views on these things should matter to us.  People can have changeable ethical values; societies can change, in ways that we feel are either progressive or regressive; but the Eternal One can offer a stability to ethics that a materialist point of view cannot.

Sure, a materialist can--and often is--a very moral person, judged by whatever standard you want to use.  And a theist can--and often is--a very immoral person, even judged by his or her own standards.  But the materialist offers no moral facts, nothing outside of personal (or social) prejudice, based on arbitrary first principles.

Don't get me wrong--I am not saying that we should all obey God simply because He'll punish us if we don't.  Whether or not that's true it's not the point.  The point is, a God who designed the cosmos has a depth of understanding and intimate familiarity with His creation that we can never approach.  Just like the engineer who designed a complex mechanism would understand its purpose and proper functioning far better than the untrained layman, the Former of the worlds understands far better than anyone else what can truly bring human flourishing.

You might find that restrictive and controlling.  That's your prerogative.  I suppose it's also the prerogative of an eagle to think it's a chicken and refuse to fly.  And in the end, maybe the eagle will sing "My Way" and be proud that it never allowed itself to be forced into soaring over the mountains. Yay for "free will."

We might have sharp disagreements about what God deems "good" and "evil"; but in the end, seeking this God offers a far firmer foundation for an ethical system than any arbitrary principle.  And of course, I haven't addressed the possibility of an "evil God" scenario.  God willing, I'll leave that for another post.



Marcion is Alive and Well

Marcion's views: alive and well in the XXI century.

Another break from the series on the atonement.

If you are not familiar with early church history, you might not be familiar with Marcion of Sinope.  If Judaizing was the most virulent heresy that the church faced in its earliest years, the opposite extreme--the complete rejection of the Old Testament--was one of the many challenges that the church faced in the second century.

Essentially, Marcion's view was that the God of the Old Testament was not the Father of Jesus in the New Testament.  Rather, the Old Testament God was a different being who was not wholly good, but morally and spiritually inferior.  He thus rejected the Old Testament Scripture, and made his own New Testament canon (a selection of Paul's epistles and an edited version of Luke's gospel) that supported his position.  (In this, Marcion actually helped spur the early church on to more exactly define her own canon, to recognize what he rejected and to recognize the measure of orthodox belief.)

Marcion was rejected by the early church, but fast-forward to today and we see his belief system actually quite easily accepted among many, both in the church and without her.  To be sure, unlike Marcion of Sinope, modern Marcionites do not necessarily believe that there was a literal "evil god" behind the Old Testament stories.  However, they do draw a sharp distinction between Jesus and the Old Testament.  Jesus becomes the True Image of God; the Old Testament becomes not just incomplete, but out-and-out wrong about God.

In today's psedu-Marcionism, Old Testament law is no longer the inspired Word of God (given for a certain time and place for a particular reason); rather, it becomes the musings of a wandering tribe of ex-slaves, and reflective more of their human point of view, and less of their relationship with God.  The brutality of someone like Samuel in contrast to Jesus is summed up with a conclusion (not always stated in as many words, but sometimes this stark): Samuel was wrong, and Jesus was right.

Yet there are several problems with this point of view.  I'll look at just two today.

(1) Jesus Himself did not seem to subscribe to it.  Remember what He said:

"...Scripture cannot be broken..." (John 10:35) (Scripture, of course, was not at this time the 66 books that we call the Bible today--the entire New Testament hadn't been written yet).

He condemned the Scribes and the Pharisees for ignoring "the Word of God" (His words; not the "word of man" or "word of confused desert goat-herders") and substituting their own traditions (Mark 7:13)

 He declared the Law of Moses to be authoritative, even in the smallest letter or least stroke of pen ("jot and tittle...") (Matt 5:17) 

There are many, many other passages that reveal Jesus' view of the Bible and His support for its contents.  Jesus constantly quoted from the Bible of His time (what we call the "Old Testament") and never indicated that it had a wrong picture of God.  Rather, He indicated that the twisting of Scripture (either by Satan or Jesus' critics) was the enemy--not Scripture itself.

And Jesus' favorite Old Testament books?  Psalms, Deuteronomy, Isaiah, and Exodus, in that order.  And each one of these books has some "troubling" passages...yet Jesus never said "uh, this here, it's  a little harsh, so please skip this part."

(Yes, yes...some will point out Jesus saying "You have heard it said...but I say to you" as an indication that He was saying that Moses and others got it wrong.  But keep in mind He said this immediately following His statement that He came not to abolish the Law.  And indeed, rather than relaxing the requirements of the Law, He actually made it more difficult.  For example, "You think you're ok by not committing adultery?  Fine...but if you're lusting, you're still guilty.")

So Jesus--at least the Jesus of the gospels--cannot be used to say the Old Testament was wrong.  I suppose one can say "Well, Jesus never really said those things about the Old Testament...they were later added by others!"  Interesting theory (with zero textual evidence); and it's quite arbitrary.  If the gospels are unreliable, why believe that Jesus didn't say the "nice" things, and the "disagreeable" things are His actual words?  Like it or not, we only have the evidence we have, and to move beyond it is pure speculation.  We arbitrarily edit the gospels, like Marcion, to support our preconceived ideas about Jesus...rather than reading what we have, and consider what was said.

(2)  In the end, pseudo-Marcionism doesn't deliver what it promises.  Look, I understand the sincere desire to present God as wholly good (as we define it) and a champion of our ethical system (at least the current one in early 21st century western society).  But even if one succeeds in "rescuing" the Bible from a belief that God sometimes does troubling things in it, it does absolutely nothing to "rescue" God from the reality we see around us every day.

We see children getting sick, and dying.  We see evil men prospering, and no divine judgment striking them down before they do evil.  We see the rich getting richer, the poor getting poorer, floods and hurricanes killing thousands, tsunamis, horrible diseases, wars, famines, et cetera, et cetera ad nasuem.  These things are inarguable facts.  And though you might think you relieve God from the burden of, say, the Biblical flood or the destruction of the Amalekites, you're still faced with tomorrow's newspaper that will no doubt have stories of the innocent dying and the guilty flourishing.

No; the reality is that we live in a world where the inescapable God, the God who is powerful enough to create extravagant wonders that we discover year after year--but who choses to act in a way that often confuses us, upsets us, even enrages us.  Job was faced with this; so was Habakkuk.  Indeed, we all are faced with this.  The false relief of pseudo-Marcionism is not going to make this reality retreat from our view.

So, with apologies to Lewis:

(1) You can reject the God of Jesus as non-existent, that we live in an absurd universe.

(2) You can say Jesus may have existed (and God might exist), but we cannot know what He was really like (and pretty much end up with the first proposition.)

(3) You can reject this God as evil, and shake your fist in rage against Him.

(4) You can say Jesus was a fuzzy-minded idealist who made incoherent statements (some nice ones, some weird ones, even some evil ones).

...or, finally, (5) You can accept Him as Lord, and bow down and worship Him.

Marcion would not necessarily accept the metaphysical system of modern pseudo-Marcionites--twenty centuries of changing worldview would make that difficult.  However, his basic premise is reflected today in many ways.  Sometimes people aren't really aware of the implications of what they say about God or the Bible.  I pray that we become more thoughtful in this regard.

Click here for the full comic.

King Me

It's good to be king.

A little break from the Atonement today.

I'm beginning to think that the best description for today's western culture is this: The least self-reflective generation.

One way to assess a culture's deepest beliefs is to consider its unexamined assumptions and cultural taboos.  These are the assumptions and taboos that members of a culture have fully internalized, but the outsider must be aware of before he or she makes a social faux pas or even legal trouble.

Every culture has these, and we often smile at how silly these taboos are (for cultures outside of our own, of course.)  But to those who are in a culture, well--it's just the Way Things Are (or at least The Way Things Should Be.)

Such are our assumptions about morality and ethics.  We believe that we have discovered--better than any previous generation--the best ethical system ever known.  We may either smile at the naivety of prior generations and their silly hang-ups; or we might, in righteous indignation, decry what we find deficient in historically different forms of ethics (and we often completely write off the achievements of prior generations because, well, they were bad people.)

But we are shocked, truly shocked, when our ethical norms are challenged.  We think our ethical norms are self-evident truths, and consider someone either a fool or evil if they ask the simple question:  Why?

Our culture is not completely godless--indeed, we tend to invoke a god in many spheres, public and private.  We will appeal to our "faith" (or "tradition") or our "spirituality" (often contrasted with "religion" which is often used as a slur against any kind of traditional western belief that existed until about yesterday.)  But--and this is key: we get to re-define god in our own image.

Our natural--and completely un-self-reflective--reaction to opposing ethical systems is one of shock and outrage.  Adherents of the ascendant cultural norms will read the Bible--say, Deut 13:6-18--and say "Wow!  That's barbaric!  Surely that can't be God's word!"  But when pressed as to why that is barbaric, there is often a stunning lack of self-reflection.  Why, exactly, is this barbaric?  Why is it evil?  By whose authority, or what evidence can you cite, that says "People ought not to behave this way!"

The atheist--many of whom would be considered quite moral by "traditional standards"--may rage in righteous indignation against what he or she perceives as the crimes of the God of the Bible; but one must ask: Why is the atheist's system of morality superior?  Other than one's personal "yuck factor", why should I accept an atheist's ethical standards?  Are there "moral facts" to which we can all agree?

Among lions, when a male defeats a rival male and takes over a pride, he often kills off the cubs (who are offspring of his defeated rival.)  Why must humans reject what the animal world finds so natural?  Why would we find it immoral for a human to do the same?  What causes a nearly universal, visceral reaction against such behavior in humans (well..."universal" in our culture)?

Please understand: I am not saying that we need to call lions "evil", and I'm certainly not saying that humans should try to emulate lion behavior.  But I am saying that observing nature is not likely to give you a set of "moral facts" that are discoverable and inarguable and guides to ethical human behavior as self-evident truths.

But I do question the assumed authority that a person's opinion has on questions of ethics...or even the assumed authority of a large group of people, perhaps even a majority.  One might say "Well, everyone today rejects slavery as barbaric and evil...therefore, it is a self-evident truth."

So does that mean that if the majority of people tomorrow said "Slavery ain't so bad" it would then become good?  And do we look down on past generations because popular opinion then supported (or at least tolerated) slavery?

Someone might argue that.  At least it's consistent, that morals and ethics change with time and circumstances.  But what I don't get is when one argues with such deep passion how utterly evil a person (or a culture) was/is because they didn't or don't agree with today's majority opinion.  Being outvoted by today's cultural views doesn't merely make you wrong or in the minority; it makes you evil.

Why this reaction?  Why this feeling of disgust and outrage over those who break this culture's taboos?  Is it perhaps we view that our culture's viewpoints (or at least some of them) are not just the particulars of our views, but something more?  Something universal, something...objectively true?

Yet the incoherent mess of our language about ethics makes this argument difficult.  On the one hand, we might sit in the parlor with brandy and cigars and pontificate about right and wrong being merely a social construct...but then when faced with, say, child sexual slavery, we become indignant, outranged, and demand action.  Yet we can offer no reason for this demand, other than we are offended.  We believe there truly is an ought.  But we've undercut any basis to believe that a sense of "ought" is anything more than opinion.  As Lewis wrote, "We laugh at honor, and are shocked by traitors in our midst."

Some might appeal to God or a god as the arbiter of morals and ethics.  But yet, we judge historic views of God as inferior...we say that our current ethical system better reflects who God truly is, than the past understandings of him.  Our knowledge of God and his will exceeds that of the ancients.  (And indeed, the idea of progressive revelation can be used to support this idea...but in contrast to God revealing Himself, we, through our cleverness, are discovering who he is.)

And in the end, when we do this, we find we are not seeking to put the God Who is There on the throne of our life; rather, we seek to place The god Who Agrees with Me on that throne.  Our desire for God to be a certain way becomes more important than finding out who He truly is.

We become King Me.  Our God is not the God who speaks galaxies and quasars into existence, the one who forms vast stars and planets.  Our god is a small, little friend, a yes man, a pal who supports our  prejudices and opinions...until they change, of course, then he changes, too.

The ancients may be wrong about God, may be terribly wrong.  But seeking to create a god in your image is most certainly wrong.  This belief has a name: idolatry.

For the rest of this comic, click here.

More on Blood: Cain & Abel

Another of Doré's woodcuts.

So...the first death recorded in the Bible is the death of some non-specific animals to provide a covering for Adam and Eve.

The next death is also a sacrifice: Abel offers a sacrifice to God from his sheep; Cain, an unbloody sacrifice from his crops:

Now Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived and bore Cain, saying, “I have gotten1 a man with the help of the Lord.” 2 And again, she bore his brother Abel. Now Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a worker of the ground. 3 In the course of time Cain brought to the Lord an offering of uthe fruit of the ground, 4 and Abel also brought of vthe firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions. And the Lord whad regard for Abel and his offering, 5 but xfor Cain and his offering he had no regard. So Cain was very angry, and his face fell. 6 The Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? 7 yIf you do well, will you not be accepted?2 And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. zIts desire is for3 you, but you must rule over it.” --Genesis 4:1-7

 We aren't told here exactly why Cain's sacrifice was not accepted, but Abel's was.  There are several theories (I like how Richard Harris in John Houston's The Bible skimps on what he gives), but none explicit here in Genesis.  But the author of Hebrews mentions this:

4 By faith hAbel offered to God ia more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. --Hebrews 11:4

So what is the difference?  Faith.  Though maybe there's a point about Abel offering blood and Cain offering grain, the distinction brought out in the New Testament is not this (even though the writer of Hebrews talks a lot about blood--the word 'blood' occurs 21 times in that book alone).  Evidently, Cain's faith was deficient; Abel's faith was sufficient.

So here a new concept is introduced in the redemptive history of the Bible: faith.  In the first sacrifice, we saw how God Himself made the first offering to cover Adam and Eve.  Now, we see their children offering sacrifices from the fruit of their labors.  But one offered by faith, and was accepted; whilst the other did not have this faith...and was not accepted.

But what is faith?  So often today, in religious contexts, "faith" simply means "belief".  However, this is the merest necessity for faith.  Sure, faith includes belief, in the same way knowledge includes belief.  But it's not faith merely to believe in the existence of something.  Faith, rather, is placing one's trust in someone or something else.  It is not always a wise choice; faith can be betrayed or unfulfilled.  Mere belief does not necessitate faith--I can intellectually believe in someone's trustworthiness--but entrusting them with something of value demonstrates that I have faith in them.

The question of belief in God is rarely addressed in the Bible (it's generally presumed, but note Heb 11:6); but the question of faith is something else entirely.  Evidently, Cain heard God's voice, so it's doubtful that he disbelieved in Him...but it's also evident that he didn't trust Him.

Though one can certainly have faith in an impersonal object, we generally don't use that term.  And in the Bible, faith is placed in persons (or more specifically, a Person).  Biblical faith is inherently relational.  God is there, saying 'I am your God.  Put your faith in Me.'  Rich relational imagery is used in Scripture--God the Husband, God the Father, even God the Mothering hen.  Our faith is not a cold calculation, like tentatively stepping out on a bridge to see if it will support our weight; no, it is like a marriage, where we become willingly vulnerable to Another.

With God, it is both easier--and harder--than putting faith in another human.  It is easier, if we believe that He is fundamentally good, and looking out for our highest good.  It is harder, in that He is so utterly more powerful, more vast, more unsearchable than anyone else.  To trust in God is diving into a sea without a shore:

Yet in the end, we have no recourse.  We are subject to His power, whether we trust in Him or not.  And trusting in Him challenges us to re-examine our time-bound preconceptions and any sense of entitlement we might have.  He is not your President, or your Therapist, and He certainly isn't your divine servant doing whatever you ask.  He is King of kings and Lord of lords.

He isn't an American, nor is He the Champion of liberal democratic virtues.  Our concepts of right and wrong, justice, and value (which are continually changing) are nothing in His sight.  Do not be surprised if you don't find Him cheering for your favorite cause de jour.

So...this element of faith is also central to the divine narrative.  But there's also much more; we've barely begun looking through the Bible on this concept of the Atonement.