Monday, April 29, 2013

God's goodness is the basis for our peace

Jesus' Sermon on the Mount asks us to focus on God's goodness not only when we pray, but whenever we think about our daily needs.

He tells us to focus on God's goodness when we wonder what we will eat: 
Look at the birds of the air: they do not plant fields or harvest them or store their produce in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? (Matthew 6:26)
He tells us again to consider God's goodness when we wonder about our other needs: 
Consider the lilies of the field. They do not toil, they do not make cloth, but not even Solomon in all his splendor was arrayed as one of these. If that is how God cares for the grass of the field which is here today, but tomorrow is used as fuel for the fire, then how much more will he care for you, oh you of little faith?
He reminds us here of the same thing as when he taught us to pray: to trust God's goodness, that he knows what we need. 

So do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" For the pagans run after these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you as well.
"Do not worry," he tells us time and again. God's goodness is the basis for our peace.

Monday, April 22, 2013

God's goodness is the basis for our prayers

God is good. That is one of the most basic messages of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount.

When Jesus taught his disciples to pray, we remember the words of that prayer and we pray them. But first Jesus made sure his disciples understood why he taught us such a bold but simple prayer:
"Your heavenly Father knows what you need before you ask him" (Matthew 6:8).
Jesus taught us to call God "Father" when we pray, so that every time we pray our first thought is that our heavenly father knows what we need before we ask him.
"If you, even though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him?" (Matthew 7:11)

To connect the dots: if even evil people can give good things to their children, then how much more will God, who is good, give good things to his children.

Jesus teaches us to have this mind when we pray: That God is good.
"This, then, is how you should pray: 'Our Father in heaven ...'".

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

A cheerful thought (personal)

Next year, April 1 2014 does not fall during Holy Week, or on the Resurrection, or on Easter Monday, or on anything else that I can foresee interfering with a seasonal post on that day. I have restrained myself in some years (like this one) and lost the opportune moment when a topic would have worked on that day. (One year I lost the opportunity to comment on the New-NIV; another year, on whether the Mormon Missionary Program was really a secret Tour de France training initiative. Oh well.) Here is hoping that nothing will stand in the way of a timely post next year. The date itself doesn't look to be a problem, next time around. :)

Thursday, April 11, 2013

The fatal flaw in works righteousness

There are people who think works righteousness is impossible because our souls just aren't that pure. There are people who think works righteousness is a bad goal because it takes the focus off of God and his goodness. Then there are those who don't apologize but set their goal as working toward their own righteousness. If we are going to do anything at all, surely we should do good things. So shouldn't our own righteousness be exactly what we're working for? Is there actually anything wrong with setting our highest goal as working towards our own righteousness?

Yes, actually, there is -- if you'll bear with me, I'll explain where I see a contradiction, a fatal flaw in the premise there.

For a Christian, righteousness is not something we define, but something God defines. That is to say, we do not pick our own goal and call that "righteousness". For those who acknowledge God, we allow God to name our goal. Paul sums it up like this: what counts is "faith which works by love" (Galatians 5:6). Jesus said that the highest laws, the most important commands, were the commands to love God and neighbor. His famous saying "Be perfect" was said about loving not only our neighbor but even our enemy. So for a Christian, righteousness is all about love, and works of love: it is all about others.

If our highest goal is attaining our own perfection or sanctification, then it is about ourselves, not about others. We will never reach God's goal by pursuing our own separate goal, one that is different from it, one that sets us on a different path in a different direction. We may do similar things -- help the poor, for example -- but if our goal is our own righteousness, then love is sabotaged by that self-seeking goal. It hardly matters whether we reach our goal, if our own goal is not God's goal for us.

Pursuing our personal righteousness risks turning religion into a self-help program, and God into little more than our personal trainer. Where is the neighbor we're supposed to love? (Has he become nothing but a means to improve our own righteousness?) If someone has too little work in loving their family and their neighbor, let them try to love their enemy.

It's easy to get confused about striving to be good. What goal is "good"? Are we trying to be perfect to be seen by men? We have our reward in full. It is not much better to want to be perfect just for ourselves; it's still a self-centered goal. Or do we want be good -- and become better -- so that we help our neighbor, and so that our lights can shine and glorify God? The focus is not so much on ourselves. There is nothing wrong with striving to be good for the sake of God and neighbor. The closer we come to God's goal, the less I'd expect us to think of ourselves and our own perfection, and the more I'd expect us to look to others and their well-being. In that case we will set our hearts on loving God and others, and act accordingly.


I could have easily titled this "Another fatal flaw in works righteousness", and there are more that I haven't mentioned here. But there is a time for focus, and that seemed best.

Sunday, April 07, 2013

Minor point about the prodigal son

Last time I read the parable of the prodigal son, I noticed something I hadn't seen before.

As background, here is something that had been plain for awhile: when the son asked for his inheritance while his father was still alive, it was the same as saying his father was nothing to him, that his father might as well be dead for all the son cared about him, and the only thing he wanted was his inheritance. (It also meant his brother was nothing to him.)

What crossed my mind this time was how that connects to the father's response, when the son comes home seeking reconciliation. The father says, "This son of mine was dead and is alive again" (Luke 15:24). The same thought is brought up again when the father speaks to the older brother who had stayed home, "This brother of yours was dead and is alive again" (Luke 15:32).

If we assume the father's view is right, then when the prodigal son wishes his family dead and cuts himself off, the one who is "as good as dead" is actually the prodigal. In considering other people "dead to him", he's the one who dies inside.

Wednesday, April 03, 2013

Can we know God: Seeking a thoughtful Christian who says "No"

I mentioned before that, to continue the controversies series, I was going to solicit some help because there are some controversies where I simply don't understand the other side. Here is the first: On the question, "Can we know God?" -- I have no idea why people would answer "no" -- Christians in particular, that is. I've heard people say that we can't know God, but not in a situation where I was welcome to strike up a conversation on the topic and really get to understand that point of view. So I'd like to strike up that conversation now.

If anyone is of the view that we can't know God, could you help me understand what you mean by that? 

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Why I believe in Jesus' Resurrection

I was not born a Christian: my parents were not church-goers in my early years. They did not set out to teach me anything about religion. Still, especially from my very liberal mother, I did pick up a mocking attitude. I still remember the first time when I was little when a neighbor child mentioned "God" seriously to me and to my brother: we traded a shocked look then laughed in her face. That was how I was raised. But still that attitude was more reflex than well-thought, so when another friend invited me to go to Sunday school and then church with her, I came to see. I began reading the Bible without too many preconceptions either from the mockers or the church, though I had been exposed to both at that point. Later on, my parents came to church with me for a few years, before they stopped again; I continued, my religious beliefs still tentative and forming. (It's likely that my religious beliefs will always be forming.) My religious beliefs did not come from my parents, so I consider myself a convert to Christianity.

When I began reading the Bible to figure out how it fit into the world and what I should make of it, I didn't come with any fundamentalist preconceptions about "inerrancy"; and my friend's church was not a fundamentalist church, so the idea of "inerrancy" was still unknown to me when I first read the Bible. When it came to the gospels, that didn't look like the way the authors of the gospels thought about their own writings, from what I could see. I also didn't come with the preconception that miracles must be myth or legend.

So why do I believe in Jesus' resurrection? It comes to this: the people writing the accounts of the gospels came across, like most people, as basically sane and basically honest people. People who are basically sane and basically honest are not wrong about something of that nature for that length of time. The disciples' reactions even to the resurrection come across as both honest and sane: they react with shock and disbelief at first, outright skepticism about a thing like that. Even seeing is not quite believing, at first, for something that out-of-the-ordinary. It takes awhile for them to believe their own eyes. From reading the early writings, it was more that when someone stays -- not a mere vision or phantom or hallucination -- stays and has conversations with you and eats meals with you, after awhile the reality sinks in: he's alive.

Haven't I heard the counter-challenges? Well, yes. As an adult, I've considered it a basic matter of something that we would call "due diligence" in the business world to make sure I give an honest hearing to the major different religions besides Christianity, and the major arguments for and against Christianity. And due diligence is done with my loyalty squarely on the side of reality wherever that should lead.

When it comes to the resurrection, the only substantive argument I've heard against it is, "Miracles don't happen." Many other arguments take the general form "The real explanation for the events must have been _____"; I have yet to see an argument in that format that had much merit of its own as an explanation; generally they don't have much more merit than their premise, "Miracles don't happen." The arguments that the gospels are myth or legend again generally don't have a lot of merit beyond their premise, "Miracles don't happen." But when I read the accounts in the gospels, based on what I read, I think those miracles did happen.

Why do I think those miracles did happen? A lot of it is the basic credibility of the narrators. Saying this usually results in a flurry of nit-picking about the gospels. But I've never read an account of anything, anywhere that couldn't be nit-picked. I've looked over the usual criticisms of the gospels, and haven't found anything that looks like it's relevant to whether the narrators were basically sane and honest. Remember, I don't have the preconceptions of an inerrantist. So if the narrator doesn't have a total recall grasp of every detail, or was giving the words as best they could remember instead of a word-for-word transcript like from a tape recorder -- so that someone else might have a slightly different wording of the same conversation -- that's normal for any account we have from the days before electronic recording. It doesn't mean the people writing the records were insane or rampant liars, which they would have to be if they were wrong about the kinds of things I'm looking at. If a mistake is an honest mistake -- no signs of being intentionally misleading -- and is about a peripheral detail that didn't matter at the time and doesn't matter now --  it doesn't bother me. So the endless criticisms about minute points of the gospels has seemed to be about trivial matters. It often seems nearly petty.

Again, why do I think those miracles did happen? A lot of it is the uniqueness of Jesus. If there is one thing that was very plain to me from reading the gospels, it was this: in Jesus' words, here are teachings that are extraordinary in their picture of holiness as a thing of beauty, desirable in a way that we might actually hunger and thirst for it. His teachings resonate with depth, power, purity, and humility, and are in words so simple that a farmer or a fisherman can not only understand but teach and live. I understood that Jesus had thoroughly earned and deserved that his teachings should be considered among the great religious teachings in the history of the planet; I still think those who have never read or heard Jesus' teachings have been deprived of a great and profound human experience. The list of people who teach religion on a world-class level is a short list. If I were to find real miracles anywhere in the world, I should expect to find them coming from somebody on that short list, and if I did not find them there, I would not expect to find them anywhere at all. That is to say, if there is such a being as "God" and if miracles are his actions in this world, then I should expect to find out more about miracles somewhere among the best of the religious teachers. If the best evidence for miracles were from someone whose life and moral thoughts were unremarkable, it would be easy to dismiss as a fraud. But from Jesus in particular? Here is a case where, if miracles would happen at all, here is a place where you could expect them. Yes, I think those miracles did happen.

For Jesus' resurrection, why do I think that particular miracle did happen? The early writings have records of Jesus' meals with his disciples and conversations with his disciples after he rose from the dead. I have mentioned briefly already that I do not see any reason to dismiss those writings as lies or the product of delusion. In the surviving records, they mention enough detail that I am convinced this is no hallucination or mistake or legend. We have the entire first generation of Christians -- however many thousands of them -- who knew these people, the eyewitnesses to the miracles and especially to Jesus' resurrection, from the disciples' years of travels to spread the news of the resurrection. Some of the people who knew Jesus in person, who saw him and spoke with him and ate meals with him after he rose from the dead, were public figures for decades afterwards and spoke of it often. It created a burst of writings on the topic in which we have many documents dating to the lifetime of people who knew Jesus that speak of his resurrection. The circle continued later with those who knew that first generation, who had themselves known Jesus' disciples, and so on. For centuries of the ever-expanding following of Jesus as a religious figure, there was not an ever-expanding list of documents that were considered trustworthy. It had to trace back to people from that first generation, to the apostles and those who had known them in person.

The opposition to Jesus (or orthodoxy, or Christianity) in modern times has been something I have looked at, in the course of my due diligence. Again, my allegiance is to reality, wherever that leads. I have looked at questions of authorship, questions of dates, alternative gospels, synoptic similarities, a few ancient manuscripts, and anything that seemed relevant to the question, "What's really going on here?" I can only hope that in my lifetime I get the chance to write down what I found when I checked the facts and evaluated the arguments, though some of that can already be found on this blog. I know I haven't heard all the details of all the arguments back and forth; but I've heard so many of them that I'd think that if there was some other major line of argument, I'd at least be aware that the argument existed. This I will say: to this point, nothing I have found changes my evaluation that the gospel writings are honest, trustworthy early accounts of Jesus' life and teachings, and miracles, and his resurrection from the dead.

I believe in Jesus because of the accounts I have read of his life, and after considering various arguments I think that these accounts are trying to faithfully record Jesus as his disciples knew him. When I believed the records of Jesus' life, it was not because I already believed in miracles and God and the Bible. Instead, whatever I believe about miracles and God and the Bible is because I believe in Jesus.