Monthly Archives for December 2008

So this is Christmas…

Well, as I write this it’s 1 a.m. Christmas morning, and I’m waiting for my kids to go to bed so I can do the stocking thing and go to bed, too.  The living room is filled with opened gifts (our family tradition is to open most gifts on Christmas Eve), and a few saved for tomorrow.  I received some new photography equipment, which at the moment is kind of intimidating, as I really don’t know what I’m doing.

For many years, my standard line about Christmas was that I didn’t like to mix my religion with my holidays; I guess you could call that my “iconoclast” period.  That has changed, however neither do I need to reach to find some spirituality within the food, family and gifts.  My fresh appreciation for the Incarnation has changed all that.

Some of my friends don’t share my particular worldview, and I confess that this saddens me, as the reality of the Incarnation – the birth of Jesus, the “God-man” – offers so much.  It’s not just the non-believers I’m speaking about, but also the many Christians who have fallen for various versions of dualism that sees only the spiritual as good, and what is Earthly as evil. To them, the extravagance and commercialism stands as “anti-Christian,” although I only know of one person who claims not to buy Christmas gifts (who also is not a parent). Some people buy moderately (there’s nothing wrong with that), compromising high ideals with reality, and giving in to the expectations that Christmas brings. They try to resolve this by imposing some sense of spirituality to Christmas by doing things like wearing buttons reminding us to “keep the Christ in Christmas.” However, if you have to reach for it, you’ve missed it.

The reality of Christmas in some respects stands apart from all of the trimmings; it doesn’t matter, for example, that Jesus was probably born at some other time of the year, or that various non-Christian traditions have merged with this particular holy-day. What matter is that Jesus was, indeed, born as a man and that God indeed got “down and dirty” to become one with man, so that we could become one with Him.

Giving gifts to those we love (and perhaps to a few we don’t), giving to the poor, celebrating with feasts and fun, are – or could be – all incarnational activities, and besides, they’re just great fun. And, if it helps boost the economy, so much the better.  I should mention that receiving doesn’t suck, either.

Receiving is also what Christmas is about. This season, I encourage you to receive life, and truth, and “peace on Earth, good will toward men.”  The reality of Christmas is always here; we just focus on it one month out of the year. Everything we do this Christmas should be a reminder that God indwells his creation; in a manner of speaking, He is present in the presents, or at least the giving of them. He is here, Immanuel, God With Us, not just at Christmas, but certainly during Christmas.

Well, most of my family are having sugar plum dreams, and it’s time for another long winter’s nap.  Norad shows Santa has been here and gone, and is now somewhere over Hawaii. Tomorrow there will be more food, more time with family, more fun, and even a few more gifts.  Bring it on!

Have a very merry Christmas!

Over 300 disproofs of God’s existence

My Christmas gift to you, a link to a great site listing over 300 disproofs of God’s existence. These are both brilliant and hilarious, and many of them are heard more often than you’d think.

Now, on a more serious note: From the blog Heart, Mind, Soul  Strength, a great little meditation on the Incarnation, entitled “Making it meaningful to be human.”

And, finally:

Whatever happened to Christmas?

A few days ago I discovered this song, written by Jimmy Webb, that has recently been recorded by Aimee Mann. It had been recorded by Frank Sinatra a few years back, but I’d never heard that version, probably because it’s kind of a depressing song. Not something you hear on the “all Christmas” radio stations. But, I found the lyrics rather interesting. It’s apparently meant as mourning a failed relationship, but I think it could have other interpretations:

Whatever happened to Christmas? It’s gone and left no traces,
Whatever happened to the faces or the glow.
Whatever happened to Christmas, to Christmas way of living?
Whatever happened to the giving, the magic in the snow?
Remember the sights and the smells and the sounds,
And remember how love was all around, whatever happened to it all?
Whatever happened to Christmas, bells in the streets are ringing,
Whatever happened to the singing, the songs we used to know.
Where was I, and whatever happened to you?
Whatever happened to Christmas and you?

Something to think about, especially if you’ve lost touch with your childhood…

Theosis, updated

A Little Leaven posted this yesterday:

For those of you who don’t recognize it, this is a reference to a statement by St. Athanasius of Alexandria from On the Incarnation, “God became man so that man might become God.”  Now, this will probably get a number of evangelicals’ undies in a bunch, but this is not heresy, if understood in context. The concept of theosis or deification is not that man can become God in essence, but rather it is the understanding that through the incarnation, God being joined to a human nature, as we are indwelt by the Holy Spirit, we too are beings in which the human and the divine are being joined. It is the process of sanctification, or of simply becoming God-like, “being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory.” (2 Cor. 3:18)  A rather pedestrian approach would be to say, “Jesus became in the likeness of man so that we can be made into the likeness of God.”

Not merely an Orthodox or Catholic teaching, deification was also an element of Martin Luther’s theology.  Whereas the Roman approach to deification seems to make theosis a certain “level” of holiness to be attained, Luther was closer to the Eastern viewpoint in that theosis is an act of redemption, the process of being saved; and, like justification, it is a complete act of grace. At the same time, while it is an act of grace, deification is “worked out” in praxis (as James says, faith without works is dead). In a Christmas sermon, Luther stated:

For the Word becomes flesh precisely so that the flesh may become word. In other words: God becomes man so that man may become God.

Even Calvin alluded to theosis when he wrote

This is the wonderful exchange which, out of his measureless benevolence, he has made with us; that, by his descent to earth, he has prepared an ascent to heaven for us; that, by taking on our mortality, he has conferred his immortality upon us…

Calvinists, however, tend to speak of “progressive sanctification,” a much more obscure and boring title.

I’m not sure that “Jesus was downloaded so we can be uploaded” is sufficient, especially if all you mean is that Jesus came to Earth so that we can escape to Heaven, which represents a very deficient eschatology (though I have a feeling that this, indeed, is what was meant by the poster).  But, as we consider the anthropological implications of the incarnation (that is, the effect that the incarnation has on man), we can take this to heart. Because in Jesus God became human, in Jesus we are now able to become Christlike.

John Lennon, peace, and the Incarnation

It seems that every time I turn on the radio this season, they’re playing Lennon’s Happy Christmas (War is Over), and ever time I hear it I think to myself, “John Lennon was an idiot.”  In reality, of course, he wasn’t, except for his letting Yoko think for him.  It’s actually not a bad song; I think it’s “war is over, if you want it” chant in the background that gets on my nerves.  It’s all so, well, 70′s. On the other hand, Christmas is about peace on Earth, good will t’ward men; but can this be reduced to “war is over if you want it?”

What Christmas is really about is something far more real than the mere absence of war. Yes, it’s about the Incarnation – God becoming man, and indwelling his creation. But, it’s even more than that; to look at Christmas as a mere anniversary or commemoration of something this happened long ago is to do Christmas – and us – a discredit.  Christmas is a reminder of an ongoing incarnation; it tells us that even deism isn’t enough. God is not “watching from a distance,” nor is He merely an occasional visitor; Christmas marks the beginning of an ongoing presence of God among us.

Consider this: the Incarnation was not a temporary act. While Jesus was only bodily present on Earth for about 33 years, Jesus did not stop being the “God-man” after the Ascension.  He didn’t leave his body in the tomb; it was resurrected, and it ascended with the rest of him. We look for Jesus’ bodily return, not some spiritualized version. When God became man, He made an eternal commitment; or rather, He demonstrated an eternal commitment that He had already made. Don’t be tricked by some kind of Platonic dualism that has us believe that Christmas is mere history; God indwells His creation, He indwells us, and He is present. With the birth of Christ, Heaven and Earth are joined together, eternally.

“Peace on Earth” is no trite holiday saying, and it’s not just talking about the absence of war.  The absence of war would be nice, but it wouldn’t be enough. As Jesus told his disciples, “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. ” (John 14:27)  The peace of Christmas is also not just a spiritual, internal peace. That, too, would understate the Incarnational reality of the peace of Christmas.  The peace that Christmas represents, the peace that passes all understanding, is only possible where Heaven has invaded, and been joined to, Earth.

Part of the worship at Lutheran and Episcopalian services is the “passing of the peace.” More than just having the pastor declare a blessing of “peace be with you,” it is the congregation that blesses each other with peace; this practice reminds us that peace is not only ours to receive, but we have the obligation to “pass the peace.”  It’s not just a good feeling, it is an incarnational act.

At Christmas time, singing, “War is over, if you want it” is to miss the point, to come up short of the real meaning of Christmas. What we should be singing is, “Peace is yours, if you want it,” recognizing the depth of what that really means.

Peace.

Are modernism and Christianity incompatible?

John Loftus claims that modernity is the Achilles’ Heel of Christianity, something I’ve discussed before, and addressed again in my “teacup” analogy.  Could he be right?

Of course, Loftus believes that modernism (the operative Western worldview which is based on rationalism, a belief in progress, and which depends heavily on the scientific method) is good. He would believe this, because he is as modern as can be, and this is what modernism teaches. It is all very circular: Modernism presumes that progress is inherently good. We as a species know more today than we did yesterday (but not as much as tomorrow).  Evolution is progressive, not regressive. Every day, in every way, we get better and better. It’s all a load of hooey, but even though you realize this, if you take time to really think through what you believe about a great many things, you will find that you, too, think this way. It’s in the water, it’s in the air – every day of our lives we eat and breathe modernism. Even what is being passed around as postmodernism is 90% basic modernism.  As Loftus once pointed out to me, even I’m modern.

However, I am aware of it.

I don’t think that everything about modernism is bad; for example, reason and logic are good, in its place. The scientific method, as a tool, is also good. However, what modernism did was to shrink the worldview around these elements, and added a belief in the inevitability of progress and a disdain for anything pre-modern, other than as an object of study. Progress says that the worldview enlarged; however, in reality, by dismissing everything it didn’t want to deal with, in actuality the worldview shrunk. (See the aforementioned Teacup Analogy).

As I have expressed in my Teacup Analogy, it is my current hypothesis that if you try to shrink Christianity to fit within the constraints of modernism, you’re in trouble, because in order to do so, the terms of modernism require you to not just shrink Christianity, but rather to chop off the corners of Christianity to fit within modernism’s round hole (sorry for switching metaphors). The problem, as I see it, is that modernism is an inadequate and defective worldview, and in order to address Christianity completely within modernism as Loftus does is to render Christianity inadequate and defective as well.

I am not sure, however, that the great apologists would agree with me.  I would be very interested to hear what someone like William Lane Craig (who I would tend to place at the top of that list) would say about my hypothesis.  Loftus, in the post I linked to above, has challenged Craig (and any other Christian apologist) to debate him on the issue of Christianity vs Modernism, which I think would be very interesting. Are Christianity and modernism incompatible, or can a complete Christianity survive entirely within the confince of modernism?

A great Advent sermon

This past Sunday I visited an Episcopal church, the first time for this particular church.  For those of you who aren’t of the liturgical persuasion, when you go to an Episcopal, Lutheran, Catholic or Orthodox church, you go for the liturgy, not for the sermon.  The sermon – which is usually and refreshingly quite brief by Evangelical standards – is somewhat of a bonus, especially if it’s good, although it is still is important in the whole worship context.  I was very pleased on Sunday to leave the worship service impressed with not only the liturgy (standard Book of Common Prayer)  and the quality of the music (which was incredible), but also with the quality of the sermon. It was almost like listening to N.T. Wright, without the British accent.

In the sermon, we were reminded and encouraged that John the Baptist, whose assignment was to announce the advent, as it were, of the public ministry of the Messiah, operated in the wilderness.  He was neither a TV personality nor a street-corner prophet; he was, if you will, an oracle, and people had to go out to the wilderness to find him. In other words, he was inconvenient. And, if you believe at all that the medium is the message, and I think it does, it tells us that the Gospel is inconvenient. It’s not necessarily easy to find, and many of us have to walk a difficult road to access it. As is confirmed again and again in the Bible, God is revealed in the wilderness, in the desert, in exile, in prison; he is revealed in all kinds of very inconvenient places. The Good News is that in the midst of our trials – which I can relate to at the moment, as I’m currently out of a job and fairly stressed – God is revealed. The Advent season celebrates, among other things, the trials and tribulations of a pregnant woman forced to travel as her due date arrives. It’s all so inconvenient, but God will be revealed.

We were also reminded that Advent, the celebration of the incarnation and the revelation of the Christ, is also the advent of the New Creation. With the incarnation, God entering Creation in a new and very personal way, the New Creation was initiated. Advent is the celebration of creation and re-creation, it is the season of hope and new life. God has become incarnate, and is about to be revealed. Christmas is more than just a birthday, where we stand around the manger and think, “isn’t he cute?” Christmas is the acknowledgment that God has set the wheels in motion; the New Creation is underway, and we are a part of it.

These are some of my thoughts, loosely based on Sunday’s sermon. I know there were good points made that I’ve forgotten; this is one sermon where I wished I had taken notes. However, I’ve grasped the essence of the message, and I thnk it will have a lingering impact on my understanding and appreciation for Advent.

And the Word became flesh …

The Incarnation – the Word become flesh, God become man, the Heavenly become Earthly – is without a doubt the one theological aspect which has gripped me over the years.  Just think, the Creator of Heaven and Earth entering Creation, entering created Time itself, without causing the nuclear meltdown of the whole universe, it really incomprehensible.  And not only that;  that God throughout history has chosen to reveal Himself through the more common elements of his creation.  God born in a stable (imagine the smell… and it wasn’t cinnamon or incense); baptism in dirty rivers; God nailed naked to a tree; partaking of the divine through wine and broken bread.  That nothing in Creation, no matter how lowly or crude, is unfit for the presence of God to fill, convert and use – this is amazing. This is the Incarnation. This is why I love Advent – the prime time of the Christian calendar in which to focus on this inexplicable reality.

For more thoughts on the Incarnation, I will direct you to an article by NT Wright in Christianity Today, What is this word?

Epistemology in a teacup

Over the last couple of months I have been writing a series related to the issue of epistemology, the study of knowledge and knowing. Epistemology attempts to answer questions like: “What do we know?”, “How can we know something?”, and of course, “How do we know what we know?” When discussing issues of faith and belief, a common topic of debate between people of faith and people of science, it is important to recognize the various epistemological positions in play. The words “faith,” “belief,” “truth” and “knowledge” often have very different meanings, and as a result the conversations often become meaningless haggling (for example, read nearly any series of 20 or more comments on a blog dealing with science vs religion).

I am writing about epistemology not because I am an expert, but merely because I tend to think about these things. Over the last couple of years I have engaged a number of people in discussions concerning the relationship between science and faith, and have learned a few things along the way (including the above revelation about meaningless haggling…). For what ever reason, a few months ago I came up with the Teacup Model, which so far has proven to be fairly accurate, at least as to how I am seeing the current materialist v non-materialist conversation.

Imagine a coffee table (you can imagine your coffee table, if you’d like).  Upon the coffee table sits a teacup and saucer.  Go ahead, use your imagination.  The teacup represents reality as defined by philosophical materialism, which is essentially that which is material: that which has physical properties and that can be experienced by our 5 senses and which can theoretically be measured.  Nothing outside of the teacup can be detected or measured by scientific or mathematical methods.  To the materialist, therefore, nothing outside of the teacup exists. Those believing in God or some other kind of non-material reality are delusional, as they cannot prove by the methods available within the teacup that anything outside of the teacup exists. This position is, as defined, a self-fulfilling hypothesis.

For the non-materialists, it is fairly obvious that the teacup is not hovering in space, but is resting on a coffee table, and also sits on a saucer. They, in fact, do not stay within the teacup, but move back and forth between the teacup and the saucer.  It is quite obvious to them that the materialists are at the very least, myopic.  So, we now have two conflicting worldviews (or teacup views): one sees only what is in the teacup, the other sees both inside and outside of the teacup. For non-materialists, there are actually a number of different points of reference, depending on where you stand on the continuum of points from the inside of the teacup to the outside- and all the way out to the coffee table. Christian moderns tend to be on the inside of the teacup, but either with a view outside, or simply a belief that what they’ve been told about the outside is true.

This teacup model supports my hypothesis that a modern worldview, i.e. life inside the teacup, is not compatible with true Christianity. As John Loftus says, “I call our modern ways of thinking the Achilles’ heel of Christianity.” Although, as I’ve said before, when John says it, he is implying that modernism is both superior and correct. However, I don’t believe either; modernism is a philosophy that works akin to the soil in the path in the parable of the sower, “When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart.” (Matt 13:19)  Spending too much time immersed “in the teacup” – that is, looking at things from solely a modernist, materialist worldview – can result in blindness to things outside of the teacup. The logic that says that only the material is real seems reasonable, because by adopting a materialist, modernist worldview, all other input is discounted. The modernist worldview subjects any input, whether material or spiritual, to a rationalistic system of analysis that is only geared – at best – to deal with the material.  It is, again, a self-fulfilling exercise.

I am not for one moment saying that the teacup doesn’t exist. What I am proposing that a worldview which originates from within the teacup – that is, modernism and materialism – is inherently flawed as well as incompatible with Christianity. A proper worldview must see the teacup in its proper context; as I’ve pointed out in the past, Gödel’s Theorem (that a system cannot be properly comprehended from within the system) seems applicable to philosophical systems as well as to mathematical ones. And as Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Why a teacup?  I’m not sure; I don’t typically drink tea. However, if I had proposed a coffee cup, I would have been compelled to empty it.  ;-)

Behind the scenes of Emergent Village

Once upon a time, in a place far, far away, I thought I had a lot in common with those cool guys and gals who call themselves “emergent.”  We both, at least, saw some of the same issues with the current state of the evangelical church, and as I mentioned in my last post, I was talking about similar ideas. Some of “them” were linking to my site, and even saying nice things about me. Brian McLaren’s publisher started sending me pre-release copies of a number of “emerging” titles and promotional materials. However, I soon grew tired of the whole emergent thing. (When I began criticizing McLaren’s theology, they stopped sending me books to review.)

Some of you who are aware of the whole emergent thing and the organization calling itself Emergent Village know that Tony Jones (also in the news for his newly announced stand that gay marriage is ok, saying, “gay persons are fully human persons and should be afforded all of the cultural and ecclesial benefits that I am.”) is no longer the National Coordinator (a decision apparently not related to his stand on gay marriage).  Scot McNight and some other folks are forming some new emerging group that is apparently more emerging than Emergent. Tony Jones and Scot McNight have both moved their blogs over to Beliefnet.  Some are emerging but not Emergent.  Some may be heretics, but not all. It’s hard to keep track without a scorecard.

So, all that to lead in to this very funny video that explains it all: