Let Freedom Ring…Temperately
It was Jean-Jacques Rousseau who wrote, “Man was born free, and everywhere he is in chains.”[1] Of course, Rousseau’s conception of freedom was one where man was free from all restraints, most especially moral and social restraints. Rousseau argued that man’s ideal state is one where he is not reliant on morals or on others. Reliance on morals and others rather than self-reliance, Rousseau opined, threatens man’s very survival and existence.
Rousseau wrote his words concerning man’s freedom in 1762. We’ve been trying to decide whether or not he was right ever since.
Case in point: Beyoncé’s performance at the Grammy’s. Anand Giridharadas of the New York Times, in an article on her Grammy appearance, characterized Beyoncé like this: “God-fearing girl from Texas, scantily clad and sexualized vixen, mononymous superstar and feminist icon, the wife who took Jay-Z’s last name, Carter.”[2] What an interesting combination of characteristics. She’s a sexualized vixen and a God-fearing girl. And both were on display in her Grammy performance. On the one hand, Beyoncé sang a truly blush-worthy and downright raunchy song in an outfit that defied common decency. On the other hand, she performed with her husband, Jay-Z, as together they extolled the pleasures of sex within marriage. Extolling the pleasures of sex within marriage is solidly Christian. Grinding in front of 28.5 million viewers is crass voyeurism. Marital intimacy is solidly moral and, I would point out, biblically commanded (cf. 1 Corinthians 7:5). Dropping your bedroom onto a national stage is a Rousseauian dream.
The apostle Paul writes, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1). Rousseau’s freedom was a freedom to sin. Paul’s freedom was a freedom from sin: “You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love” (Galatians 5:13). Rousseau abhorred the notion that man would rely on others. Paul called Christians to be people on which others could happily rely.
Thomas Jefferson once noted, “It would be a miracle were [people] to stop precisely at temperate liberty.”[3] Jefferson feared that, left to their own devices, people would all too easily and quickly lapse into “unbounded licentiousness,” running headlong for the unbridled freedom of Rousseau rather than toward the virtuous liberty of Paul. And this is, sadly, what has happened.
But not completely.
There are still some who understand that true freedom is not so much about the moral bounds you can break, but about the responsibility you can take. There are still some who understand that freedom is not so much about the selfish hedonism in which you can engage, but about the loving service you can offer. That’s true freedom. That’s real freedom. And, by God’s grace, we can still carry forth in that freedom. We must carry forth in that freedom.
Anything else is just “a yoke of slavery.”
[1] Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract, Christopher Betts, trans. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 45
[2] Anand Giridharadas, “Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s Sultry Dance Makes a Case for Marriage,” New York Times (2.3.2014).
[3] Esther Franklin, Thomas Jefferson: Inquiry History for Daring Delvers (Esther Franklin, 2012).
“Look at me!”
This past weekend in ABC, I talked about how far too many of us live by the narcissistic credo, “Look at me.” What children will say to their parents at the pool right before they do a flip or a dive is the same thing we want, albeit we may not say so in so many words. Instead, it is our actions – sometimes wild and dramatic; other times passive, yet aggressive – that cry out for people to notice. And oftentimes, our actions produce their desired effect. Oftentimes, people look at us, even if for all the wrong reasons.
Sadly, having others “look at me” is a desire that not only resides in the hearts of people in the world out there; it is a desire that resides in my heart. I want people to take note of who I am and what I do. Whether it’s a Bible study that I lead or a sermon that I preach or a blog that I post, I can quickly become all too curious to know what people think of what I have said or written and if people care. And if they don’t think highly of what I’ve said or written, or if they don’t care, I can easily become hurt. After all, just like so many others, I like to be remembered and recognized. I want people to “look at me.”
One of the most puzzling motifs in the Gospels is what a scholar named William Wrede deemed “the Messianic secret.” The Messianic secret describes those times when, after a particularly profound and revealing utterance or after some miraculous feat, Jesus warns His disciples not to share His identity or actions with anyone else. For instance, after Peter claims Jesus to be “the Christ,” that is, the Messiah, Jesus warns the disciples “not to tell anyone about Him” (Mark 8:29-30).
Wrede claims that, historically, Jesus did not believe Himself to be and did not speak of Himself as the Messiah. Later Christians came to this conclusion quite apart from what Jesus actually said and did. According to Wrede, the Gospel writers made up these Messianic “secrets” and inserted them into the Gospels as an apologetic to argue for Jesus’ Messianic identity.
Not surprisingly, orthodox Christians take a different view of these secretive statements. We believe these statements were not later glosses to create for Jesus a Messianic identity He never claimed, but genuine statements by Jesus concerning who He is and what He had come to do.
But why would He want to keep His grand identity a secret? The general consensus is that Jesus knew many people would misunderstand what it means for Him to be the Messiah, for many of the Jews of that day had visions of the Messiah as a political revolutionary dancing in their heads. Jesus, of course, was no such Christ. He had not come to overthrow a government, but to usher in a Kingdom.
Beyond this, Jesus’ secretive statements also seem to reflect the fulfillment of prophecy. One of the marks of the Messiah, according to Isaiah, is His humility. The Messiah will not clamor to pronounce before the world His identity and power: “He will not shout or cry out, or raise His voice in the streets” (Isaiah 42:2). In other words, the Messiah will not come to this world announcing, “Look at me!”
In a world where we struggle with the desire to be noticed, there is a lesson to be learned from the Messianic secret. Jesus eschewed notice, and yet there has never been anyone more noticeable than Him. His noticeability came through His humility.
Perhaps our noticeability should come the same way. Perhaps rather than shouting “Look at me,” we should practice a gentle humility.
Explaining Our Existence
I recently came across two articles – both dealing with gender concerns – that caught my attention. The first article is by Lisa Wade of Salon and addresses the deep friendships – or the lack thereof – between men. Wade opens her article:
Of all people in America, adult, white, heterosexual men have the fewest friends. Moreover, the friendships they have, if they’re with other men, provide less emotional support and involve lower levels of self-disclosure and trust than other types of friendships. When men get together, they’re more likely to do stuff than have a conversation …
When I first began researching this topic I thought, surely this is too stereotypical to be true. Or, if it is true, I wondered, perhaps the research is biased in favor of female-type friendships. In other words, maybe we’re measuring male friendships with a female yardstick. It’s possible that men don’t want as many or the same kinds of friendships as women.
But they do. When asked about what they desire from their friendships, men are just as likely as women to say that they want intimacy. And, just like women, their satisfaction with their friendships is strongly correlated with the level of self-disclosure.[1]
Men want friends, Wade contends – real friends, with whom they can share real cares, concerns, and fears. But most do not have these kinds of friends. Why is this? Wade chalks it up to society’s assertions concerning what it means to be a “real man.” She explains:
[Real men] are supposed to be self-interested, competitive, non-emotional, strong (with no insecurities at all), and able to deal with their emotional problems without help. Being a good friend, then, as well as needing a good friend, is the equivalent of being girly.
Real men, our society says, keep their emotions hermetically sealed. This is why so many men eschew forming deep and abiding friendships. But as many men seek to be really masculine through sensitivity sequestration, they only wind up being really isolated.
The second article I found interesting is by Sarah Elizabeth Richards of the New York Times. Richards tells the story of Andy Inkster – a woman who underwent surgery and took testosterone to become a man, but has now stopped taking testosterone because she wants to get pregnant. As it turns out, Andy had trouble getting pregnant and sought fertility treatments from Baystate Reproductive Medicine. Baystate denied her request. She received help from another clinic and got pregnant, but sued Baystate for discrimination.
Such a desire of transgendered people to have children is not unique to Andy:
One study published last year in the journal Human Reproduction of 90 transgender men in Belgium found that 54 percent wished to have children … Other research, published in 2002, by Belgian fertility doctors with Western European transgender women found that 40 percent wanted to have children, and 77 percent felt they should have the option to preserve their sperm before hormone treatment. As fertility technology improves and becomes more widely available, transgender people are realizing that they will have more options in the future.[2]
Transgendered people apparently have a strong desire to have children in biologically traditional ways despite their deep reservations with their biologically assigned genders.
At first glance, these two articles seem to address phenomena on opposite ends of the cultural spectrum. The first has to do with entrenched machismo while the second has to do with blurred gender identity. But for all their differences, there exists a common theological root: the divorce of human existence from divine creation.
Foundational to the Christian conception of the cosmos is the belief that everything came from somewhere. Or, to put it more precisely, Christians believe that everything came from someone. We do not just exist. We were created.
It is from the Scriptural story of creation that we learn not just that we are, but who we are. We are creatures and not the Creator (cf. Genesis 3:5). We are fashioned in the image of God (cf. Genesis 1:27). We are fearfully and wonderfully made (cf. Psalm 139:14), which is to say that God intentionally and lovingly fashioned us to be a certain kind of person, the corruption of sin notwithstanding. In the old “nature versus nurture” debate, the story of creation tells us that nature does indeed shape us, but not by naturalistic means. Rather, we are shaped through nature by the One who made nature.
Both of the articles above exemplify with a convicting candor what happens when people forget this story. Men who try to play the role of the sturdy and strong lone ranger forget the part of the story where God says, “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Genesis 2:18). People who undergo surgeries and treatments in an effort to change their gender forget the part of the story where God revels in how He has created us “male and female” (Genesis 1:27).
The apostle Peter warns there will come a time when people will “deliberately forget that long ago by God’s word the heavens existed and the earth was formed” (2 Peter 3:5). They will forget their existence is a product of God’s creative word. And they will forget their existence is to be guided by God’s sacred Word. May it never be so of us. May we always be able to say: “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth…and of me.”
[1] Lisa Wade, “American men’s hidden crisis: They need more friends!” Salon (12.7.2013).
[2] Sarah Elizabeth Richards, “The Next Frontier in Fertility Treatment,” New York Times (1.12.2014).
Angry At A God Who Isn’t There
The other day I heard the story of a distressed parent. Their son had gone away to college as a Christian and had returned as an atheist. They wanted to know what they could do to bring their son back into the fold.
Honestly, hearing this boy’s story distressed me. After all, nothing less than this young man’s very salvation is at stake. I was tempted to break out into a rant about how far too many colleges and universities deliberately and relentlessly undermine faith while uncritically peddling a deluded vision of a far-flung utopian secular humanistic paradise, but I stopped myself and instead asked a simple question: “Why? Why did your son become an atheist? Was it because of something he heard in some class from a professor, or was it because of something else – something deeper?”
Many atheists like to present themselves as cool and collected, calmly examining empirically verifiable data and coming to the inevitable and emotionally detached conclusion that there is no God. But the reality of atheism is far less viscerally clean.
A couple of years ago, Joe Carter penned an article for First Things titled, “When Atheists Are Angry At God.” In it, he notes a strange phenomenon: many people who do not believe in God find themselves angry at God:
I’ve shaken my fist in anger at stalled cars, storm clouds, and incompetent meterologists. I’ve even, on one terrible day that included a dead alternator, a blaring blaring tornado-warning siren, and a horrifically wrong weather forecast, cursed all three at once. I’ve fumed at furniture, cussed at crossing guards, and held a grudge against Gun Barrel City, Texas. I’ve been mad at just about anything you can imagine.
Except unicorns. I’ve never been angry at unicorns.
It’s unlikely you’ve ever been angry at unicorns either. We can become incensed by objects and creatures both animate and inanimate. We can even, in a limited sense, be bothered by the fanciful characters in books and dreams. But creatures like unicorns that don’t exist – that we truly believe not to exist – tend not to raise our ire. We certainly don’t blame the one-horned creatures for our problems.
The one social group that takes exception to this rule is atheists. They claim to believe that God does not exist and yet, according to empirical studies, tend to be the people most angry at Him.[1]
But why is this? Why would people who don’t believe in God become angry at God? Carter goes on to cite Julie Exline, a psychologist at Case Western Reserve University:
Studies in traumatic events suggest a possible link between suffering, anger toward God, and doubts about God’s existence. According to Cook and Wimberly (1983), 33% of parents who suffered the death of a child reported doubts about God in the first year of bereavement. In another study, 90% of mothers who had given birth to a profoundly retarded child voiced doubts about the existence of God (Childs, 1985). Our survey research with undergraduates has focused directly on the association between anger at God and self-reported drops in belief (Exline et al., 2004). In the wake of a negative life event, anger toward God predicted decreased belief in God’s existence.
In other words, atheism is not as viscerally clean as many atheists would like to have you believe. Atheism is not always the product of cool, clean, detached observation of empirically verifiable date. Instead, atheism is often the product of not disbelief in God, but rebellion against God because a person feels slighted by God in some way. Atheism, although it may hide between a veneer of intellectualism, is also heavily emotional. It’s hardly a wonder that the Psalmists says of the atheist: “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (Psalm 14:1). Atheism is not just a matter of the head. It’s also a matter of the heart.
I never quite did get to the root of the atheism of my friend’s son. But I suspect it was more than just some smooth-talking college professor that led him down the road to unbelief. That’s why, when sharing my faith, I not only try to speak to a person’s head; I try to minister to his heart.
[1] Joe Carter, “When Atheists Are Angry At God,” First Things (1.12.2011).
It’s Not Tricky … It’s Really Not
It seems like it’s been happening to me a lot lately.
The other day on the radio, I heard a commercial for “The Biblical Money Code,” a program that claims to be able to make millions for the person who follows it:
Imagine if you had a secret code for making money … a code buried deep within biblical text. A code that certain investment titans have quietly exploited to amass billions. And what if this code could be used by you, today, to unlock vast amounts of wealth — safely and ethically.[1]
Now, forget the fact that what the Bible has to say about money is about as straightforward and sharp as it can be. For instance: “No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money” (Matthew 6:24). Forget the fact that God nowhere promises that you can or will amass billions. Forget the fact that the Bible doesn’t even find it particularly desirable that a person would amass billions. All of what’s in this program has to be in the Bible. You just have to unlock the code.
But that’s not the only biblical “code” I’ve run across recently.
The other day, I received an email from a friend claiming the prophet Muhammad was identified by name in the Old Testament. Where? Song of Songs 5:16: “His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. This is my lover, this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.” How does this refer to Muhammad? The Hebrew word for “altogether lovely” is machamadim, which sounds like “Muhammad.” Now, forget the fact that, in context, this is a statement by a wife about her husband. Forget the fact that machamadim is a Hebrew word and Muhammad is an Arabic name. Forget the fact that there is nothing in this verse that would indicate this is a prophetic statement. These two words sound similar, so they must be related. You just have to unlock the code.
But that’s not the only biblical “code” I’ve run across recently.
I remember a conversation I had with some Mormon friends about the kingdoms of glory in the afterlife. “We can enter a telestial, terrestrial, or celestial kingdom,” my friends explained. From where do they get this? 1 Corinthians 15:40 (KJV): “There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another.” Now, forget the fact that Paul’s point here is not to talk about afterlife destinations, but to speak of the kind of body we will receive at the resurrection of the dead, as he makes abundantly clear at the conclusion of his argument:
So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. (1 Corinthians 15:42-44)
Forget the fact that this verse doesn’t even mention telestial bodies. Forget the fact that no one in the Church interpreted this verse in this way before Joseph Smith. Paul has to be talking about different afterlife destinations. You just have to unlock the code.
With so many so-called “religious experts” peddling so many biblical codes, it is worth it to remind ourselves of the principle of perspicuity. Perspicuity is from a Latin word meaning “clearness.” And classically, the Church has ascribed this characteristic to Holy Writ. The Lutheran dogmatician Francis Pieper summarizes biblical perspicuity thusly: “The perspicuity of Scripture consists in this, that it presents, in language that can be understood by all, whatever men must know to be saved.”[2] Pieper goes on to note that Scripture testifies to its own perspicuity in places like Psalm 19:7: “The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy, making wise the simple.” One can be simple intellectually and still gain wisdom from Scripture, for Scripture is clear. Understanding the Good Book does not take a Ph.D. in theology.
Now, this is not to say that every verse of the Bible is equally easy to understand. No less than the great preacher Chrysostom explains that some parts of the Bible can indeed be difficult to interpret:
Let us suppose … rivers … are not of the same depth. Some have a shallow bed, others one deep enough to drown one unacquainted with it. In one part there are whirlpools, and not in another … Why then art thou bent on drowning thyself in those depths?[3]
Chrysostom compares different parts of Scripture to different rivers. Some parts are shallow and easy to navigate. Other parts are deeper and more difficult to wade through. But though some parts of Scripture are richly deep, none are nefariously tricky. In other words, the biblical authors are not trying to hide things from us with a code, but reveal things to us under the guidance of God’s Holy Spirit.
The long and short of biblical perspicuity, then, is this: finding codes, mysteries, and secrets that cater to our sinful lusts like greed, play “sound like” games with words across languages, and rip words out of a text and shoehorn them into meaning something which, contextually, they clearly do not and cannot mean are not only not biblical, they’re evil. God wants us to understand and follow His Word – not be confused by it and misinterpret it.
So the next time you open your Bible, don’t pull out your decoder ring, pull out your reading glasses. They’ll work much better. And you’ll be much more edified.
[1] “The Biblical Money Code,” newsmax.com
[2] Francis Pieper, Christian Dogmatics, vol. 1 (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1950), 320.
[3] John Chrysostom, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, series 1, vol. 13, P. Schaff, ed. (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1889), 507.
For Fathers Only
“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4).
These famous words from the apostle Paul are meant to call fathers to Godliness as they raise their children. Negatively, fathers are not to “exasperate,” or anger, their children needlessly or vindictively. Positively, they are to “bring them up,” or rear them, in the Lord. The Greek word for “bring them up” is ektrepho, meaning, “to feed.” Fathers are to feed their children. But this means much more than simply “bringing home the bacon,” as it were. This also means feeding children’s souls with time, affection, discipline, and grace.
Sadly, this call to fatherhood is lost on far too many men in our society. And the effects are devastating.
Kay Hymowitz, writing for the City Journal, a quarterly affairs journal for Manhattan, recently published an article titled “Boy Trouble”[1] in which she attributes much of the dismal performance in school, in jobs, and in life of a great number of boys to absentee fathers. In other words, fathers who fail to bring their children up in the training and instruction of the Lord because of their non-presence have a profoundly negative impact on their children. Hymowitz expounds:
By the 1970s and eighties, family researchers following the children of the divorce revolution noticed that, while both girls and boys showed distress when their parents split up, they had different ways of showing it. Girls tended to “internalize” their unhappiness: they became depressed and anxious, and many cut themselves, or got into drugs or alcohol. Boys, on the other hand, “externalized” or “acted out”: they became more impulsive, aggressive, and “antisocial.” Both reactions were worrisome, but boys’ behavior had the disadvantage of annoying and even frightening classmates, teachers, and neighbors. Boys from broken homes were more likely than their peers to get suspended and arrested. Girls’ unhappiness also seemed to ease within a year or two after their parents’ divorce; boys’ didn’t.
Since then, externalizing by boys has been a persistent finding in the literature about the children of single-parent families. In one well-known longitudinal study of children of teen mothers (almost all of them unmarried), University of Pennsylvania sociologist Frank Furstenberg, a dean of family research, found “alarmingly high levels of pathology among the males.” They had more substance abuse, criminal activity, and prison time than the few boys in the study who had grown up in married-couple families.
Hymowitz goes on to consider some of the ways in which societies have sought to compensate for absentee fathers. Some societies have tried to provide robust social support programs, ensuring single mothers have all the financial resources they need to give their sons opportunities that will serve them well. But these social support programs have not stemmed the tide of troubled, fatherless boys. Others have tried to encourage male role modeling in the form of coaches, teachers, and even stepfathers. But the problem remains. Indeed, Hymowitz cites one study done on boys who were raised by their stepfathers and notes that these boys were “even more at risk of incarceration than the single-mom cohort.”
Finally, Hymowitz reaches an inevitable, even if unsurprising, conclusion: “Girls and boys have a better chance at thriving when their own father lives with them and their mother throughout their childhood—and for boys, this is especially the case.” A household needs a father.
Please understand that I do not mean to belittle or disparage the contributions that mothers – and especially single mothers – make to a household. Indeed, I know and have known many faithful single mothers who do all they can to raise their children faithfully, compassionately, and evangelically with great success. To them, I say, “Thank you.” I am saying to men, however: You are needed. The stakes are high. You cannot afford you to be derelict in your duties toward your families.
So get with it. Heed the call of the apostle Paul. You have more influence than you may ever know. Which means you have more responsibility than you could ever dream. Take that responsibility seriously. Little eyes are watching.
[1] Kay Hymowitz, “Boy Trouble,” City Journal 23, no. 4 (Autumn 2013).
Pluralistic Ignorance, a.k.a., “Everybody’s Doing It”
“Everybody’s doing it.” Before this line was used by teenagers in attempts to strong-arm their parents into allowing them to engage in all manner and kind of youthful foolishness, it was the title of a 1938 movie about an alcoholic who creates picture puzzles for a national contest only to get kidnapped before he can deliver the final batch of puzzles. From the reviews I’ve read, the movie wasn’t very good or very believable.[1]
“Everybody’s doing it.” Long after the movie, I remember using this line on my parents – with slight modifications, of course. If I wanted to go to a party, I’d tell my parents, “But everyone will be there!” Or if I wanted my parents to buy me something, I’d tell them, “But everyone else has one!”
“Everybody’s doing it.” This is more than just a teenager’s favorite line. It’s also a dangerous state of mind.
A few years ago, two researchers from Binghamton University in New York, Chris Reiber and Justin Garcia, published a paper titled, “Hooking Up: Gender Differences, Evolution, and Pluralistic Ignorance.”[2] In this paper, they explored the differences between the real and perceived comfort levels with different types of sexual activity among young adults. They discovered what psychologists refer to as “pluralistic ignorance.” They explain:
Pluralistic ignorance (PI) has been demonstrated to play a role in hook-up behavior. PI is characterized by individuals behaving in accordance with (generally false) beliefs attributed to the group, regardless of their own beliefs … Young adults routinely believe that others are more comfortable with various sexual behaviors than they, themselves, are. This leads them to behave as if they were more comfortable than they actually are, and engage in behaviors with which they are not actually comfortable.
After a myriad of charts and graphs illustrating this thesis, the researchers conclude, “Individuals of both genders attributed to others of the same gender higher comfort levels [with different kinds of sexual activity] than they themselves had.” In other words, those surveyed thought that “everyone was doing it,” but, as it turns out, they’re not. And if you think they are, you’re ignorant about what’s going on in the bedrooms of the plurality of people in our world.
Tragically, this perception of the nature and type of sexual activity among one’s peers often leads to the violation of one’s own ethical sensibilities. Thus, far too many people wind up breaching moral boundaries for the farcical, mistaken impression that “everyone is doing it.”
In his epistle to the Romans, the apostle Paul speaks of how “the requirements of [God’s] law are written on [people’s] hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts sometimes accusing them and at other times even defending them” (Romans 2:4). The apostle here contends that all people, whether or not they are Christian, have a conscience – a foundational moral compass that helps them distinguish right from wrong. My contention is that we ought to spend more time listening to our consciences and less time worrying and wondering about what “everybody else” is doing. As the research shows, we don’t really know what everybody else is doing and when we try to guess, we guess wrong.
So, to those who are thinking of breaching an ethical boundary so you can roll with a cultural tide, you need to know: the cultural tide will only roll you. Others are not doing what they say they’re doing and you don’t really know what they’re doing anyway. So listen to your conscience, not to them. Or, better yet, listen to God’s Word. You’ll wind up much less morally anguished and much more joyfully fulfilled.
[2] Chris Reiber & Justin R. Garcia “Hooking Up: Gender Differences, Evolution, and Pluralistic Ignorance,” Evolutionary Psychology 8, no. 3 (2010): 390-404.
Truly God, Truly Man
“The Adoration of the Shepherds” by Gerard van Honthorst, 1622.
During the Christmas season, it is important to focus not only on the birth of Christ, but on the person of Christ. That is, it is important for us to remember not only that Jesus was born, but who Jesus was born as. For it is not the simple fact of Jesus’ birth that gives the Christmas story significance. After all, people are born all the time. But Jesus’ identity as it is revealed in the Christmas story makes Jesus’ birth significant even 2,000 years later.
In Matthew’s Gospel, we get a clue concerning Jesus’ identity beginning with Mathew’s opening line: “A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1). From here, Matthew goes on to give an extensive genealogy of Jesus’ family tree, going all the way back to Abraham. The genealogy in Luke’s Gospel goes back even farther – all the way to Adam (cf. Luke 3:23-38). These two genealogies, it should be noted, are quite different from each other, making Jesus’ family tree look quite disparate. Indeed, over the years, scholars have debated the differences between the Matthew and Luke’s genealogies of Jesus. Most often, scholars have conjectured that Matthew presents the royal genealogy of Jesus through Joseph, his stepfather, while Luke presents the biological genealogy of Jesus through Mary, His mother. What is often left out of such discussions and debates, however, is that there is actually a third Christmas genealogy that all too regularly goes unnoticed.
Where is this third genealogy? Beginning in Matthew 1:18: “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit.” The Greek word for “birth” is genesis, from which we get our English word “genealogy” In fact, this is the same word Matthew uses in 1:1 when he introduces his “genealogy [in Greek, genesis] of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham.” Thus, in just one chapter, Matthew presents two genealogies.
So how are to understand these two genealogies? In Matthew’s first genealogy, we read of Jesus’ human origin. He is the son of David and the son of Abraham. In Matthew’s second genealogy, we read about Jesus’ divine origin. He is of the Holy Spirit. Thus, Jesus is truly man, the son of Abraham and David; but He is also truly God, conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary.
Ultimately, Jesus’ status as truly man and truly God is what gives the Christmas story its significance. For as a man, Jesus can identify with us men – our weakness, struggles, and trials. But as God, Jesus can save us from our sin.
Truly man. Truly God. All of this wrapped in a manger. What an incredible story! And what a terrific reason to say, “Merry Christmas.”
Rob Bell and Inerrancy
The other day, a friend sent me an article by pastor and provocateur Rob Bell on the subject of inerrancy. Traditionally, the term “inerrancy” has been defined as the belief that the biblical authors, guided and inspired by God’s Spirit, “are absolutely truthful according to their intended purposes.”[1] In other words, the biblical authors, under divine inspiration, produced writings that are “without error.” It is important to clarify that to say the Bible is “without error” does note preclude “a lack of modern technical precision, irregularities of grammar or spelling, observational descriptions of nature, the reporting of falsehoods, the use of hyperbole and round numbers, the topical arrangement of material, variant selections of material in parallel accounts, or the use of free citations.”[2] In other words, part of claiming biblical inerrancy is recognizing what does and does not constitute an actual “error.”
Regardless of the specifics concerning what does and does not constitute error, it is clear that “inerrancy” asserts an extraordinarily high view of the nature and reliability of Holy Writ. Some, however, including Rob Bell, are troubled by such an assertion.
Rob Bell teases out his beef with inerrancy thusly:
My 13 year old son is currently doing an education program that requires him to listen to a certain amount of classical music every day. So on the way to school each morning instead of listening to our usual Blink 182 and rap, he listens to…Mozart. Not his first choice, but just lately he admitted that classical music has grown on him. (How does a parent not smile at that?)
A few questions, then, about Mozart:Did Mozart’s music win?
Would you say that the work of Mozart is on top?
Is Mozart the MVP?
In your estimation, has Mozart prevailed?
Do Mozart’s songs take the cake?
Odd questions, right?
They’re odd because that’s not how you think of Mozart’s music. They’re the wrong categories.
Why?
Because what you do with Mozart’s music is you listen to it and you enjoy it.
Which brings us to inerrancy: it’s not a helpful category. And if you had only ever heard about Mozart as the one who wins, those arguments would probably get in the way of you actually listening to and enjoying Mozart.[3]
So Rob Bell’s problem with inerrancy is that for him it’s not a helpful category.
Though Rob may question the usefulness of the inerrancy “category,” countless followers of Christ have, do, and will continue to find this designation extraordinarily helpful. Yes, the word “inerrancy” is of fairly recent origin. But what it denotes – the trustworthiness of Scripture because of divine origin of Scripture – is as old as Christianity itself. Nichols and Brandt, in their book Ancient Word, Changing Worlds, helpfully sample some patristic evidence that indicates how the early Church saw the divine origin and inspiration of Scripture:
Clement of Rome, writing in 96, exhorted, “Look carefully into the Scriptures, which are the true utterances of the Holy Spirit.” Another Clement, Bishop of Alexandria, declared similarly, “I could produce then thousand Scriptures of which not ‘one tittle will pass away,’ without being fulfilled. For the mouth of the Lord, the Holy Spirit, has spoken these things.” As for a statement about the whole Bible, Origen once observed, “For the proof of our statements, we take testimonies from that which is called the Old Testament and that which is called the New – which we believe to be divine writings.”[4]
Jumping ahead to the sixteenth century, Nichols and Brandt note that John Calvin referred to Scripture as “the sure and infallible record,” “the inerring standard,” “the pure Word of God,” “the infallible rule of His Holy Truth,” “free from every stain or defect,” “the inerring certainty,” “the certain and unerring rule,” “unerring light,” “infallible Word of God,” “has nothing belonging to man mixed with it,” “inviolable,” “infallible oracles.”[5] Whoa. Calvin leaves no question as to where he stands on inerrancy.
Rob does offer some reasons as to why he believes inerrancy is not a helpful category, the first of which is, “This isn’t a word the Bible uses about itself.” But this is like saying “Trinity” is not a helpful term to describe God because it is not a term God uses to describe Himself. Terms can be helpful even when they’re not used in the Bible if these terms describe what the Bible itself teaches. And the Bible does indeed claim inerrancy for itself. One need to look no farther than the Word of God’s magnum opus on the Word of God, Psalm 19: “The law of the LORD is perfect, refreshing the soul. The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy, making wise the simple” (Psalm 19:7). If the word “perfect” doesn’t include being “without error,” what does it include?
Rob finally plays his hand as to why he is uncomfortable with inerrancy: “The power of the Bible comes not from avoiding what it is but embracing what it is. Books written by actual, finite, limited, flawed people.” Rob Bell takes issue with inerrancy because he takes issue with the doctrine of divine inspiration. He takes issue with what Clement of Rome, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, John Calvin, and, for that matter, the Bible itself claim about the Bible. Rather than being a book a written by God using men (cf. 1 Peter 1:21), the Bible for Rob is a book written by men who recount their experiences with God, which, by the way, could be mistaken and wrongheaded.[6] How do we know if their experiences with God are mistaken and wrongheaded? Rob answers: “Central to maturity is discernment, the growing acknowledgement that reality is not as clean and neat and simple as we’d like.” In other words, it’s up to us to figure out what in the Bible is wrong and what in the Bible is right. But if our world’s genocides, sexual promiscuity, oppression, economic injustice, and refusal to stand for truth because we’re not even sure of what truth is serve as any indication of our powers of discernment, in the words of Ricky Ricardo, we “have some splainin’ to do.”
Perhaps we’re not as discerning as we think we are. Perhaps, rather than tooting the horns of our own discernment faculties, we should ask the question of the Psalmist: “But who can discern their own errors” (Psalm 19:12)? Our blind spots are bigger and darker than most of us recognize.
I will grant that inerrancy has sometimes all too gleefully been used as a bully club against supposed – and, in some instances, presupposed – heretics. But I will not give up the word or the doctrine. For when inerrancy is properly understood, it is not meant as a club, but as a promise. It is a promise that we can trust this book – even more than we can trust ourselves. For this book is God’s book. And I, for one, delight in that promise because I delight in the Lord.
[1] James Voelz, What Does This Mean? Principles of Biblical Interpretation in the Post-Modern World, 2nd ed. (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1995), 239.
[2] “Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy,” Article XIII (October 1978).
[3] Rob Bell, “What is the Bible? Part 21: In Air, In Sea,” robbellcom.tumblr.com (12.10.2013)
[4] Stephen Nichols and Eric Brandt, Ancient Word, Changing Worlds (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2009), 78.
[5] Ancient Word, Changing Worlds, 78-79.
[6] Bell writes of the biblical authors in another post, “They had experiences. They told stories. They did their best to share those stories and put language to those experiences” (“What is the Bible? Part 17: Assumptions and AA Meetings”).
Righteousness from God
“Crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth” by Marco Palmezzano, ca. 1490
Credit: Wikipedia
Because the gospel is the crux of our Christian faith, we can never ponder it, speak of it, or write about it too much. This is why I was delighted to stumble across this passage from Ezekiel while reading devotionally a few days ago:
The righteousness of the righteous man will not save him when he disobeys, and the wickedness of the wicked man will not cause him to fall when he turns from it. The righteous man, if he sins, will not be allowed to live because of his former righteousness. If I tell the righteous man that he will surely live, but then he trusts in his righteousness and does evil, none of the righteous things he has done will be remembered; he will die for the evil he has done. (Ezekiel 33:12-13)
What a beautiful explanation of the gospel and what kind of righteousness saves. Ezekiel is clear: you cannot be saved by your own righteousness! Indeed, even if you act righteously, just one evil act erases all memory of your righteousness. As James writes: “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it” (James 2:10). To receive salvation, you need another kind of righteousness that is not your own. You need a righteousness that comes from God. The apostle Paul brings clarity to what kind of righteousness this is: “But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe” (Romans 3:21-22).
Besides reminding us that our own righteousness does not and cannot save us, Ezekiel’s words also remind us that the gospel is not confined to the New Testament. In both Testaments, the message of the gospel is consistent: it is God’s righteousness, not our own, that saves us. As God promises through the prophet Isaiah, “I am bringing My righteousness near, it is not far away; and My salvation will not be delayed.”
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