Book Review: Between Heaven and Hell

2010 February 27
by Jeremy

Between Heaven and HellPages: 142
Pub­lisher: Inter­var­sity Press
Year: 1982 (2008)
Author: Peter Kreeft

I believe this is the first major Socratic dia­logue Kreeft pub­lished (1982) and, unlike the oth­ers pub­lished by Inter­var­sity Press, does not fea­ture Socrates as the cen­tral char­ac­ter. But, instead, fea­ture Lewis as the main char­ac­ter. Between Heaven and Hell is a dia­logue between Chris­t­ian author and apol­o­gist C.S. Lewis, Amer­i­can Pres­i­dent John F. Kennedy and Eng­lish author Aldous Huxley.

While the orig­i­nal was pub­lished in 1982, a revised edi­tion was pub­lished in 2008 — the edi­tion I own — and includes an Appen­dix (A World With­out an Easter) and out­line of the book. How­ever as far as I know, the main text has not been altered between the two editions.

The basic premise of the book is described on the back cover:

On Novem­ber 22nd, 1963, three great men died within a few hours of each other: C.S. Lewis, John F. Kennedy and Aldous Hux­ley. All three believed, in dif­fer­ent ways, that death is not the end of human life. Sup­pose they were right, and sup­pose they met after death. How might the con­ver­sa­tion go?

The three dif­fer­ent views of death pre­sented in the book are West­ern the­ism (Lewis), West­ern human­ism (Kennedy) and ancient East­ern pan­the­ism (Hux­ley). The qual­ity of the dia­logue here is excel­lent, and I sus­pect one might have trou­ble telling the dif­fer­ence between the C.S. Lewis of this book and the C.S. Lewis of “real life”. I’ve never read (or really lis­tened to) Kennedy or Hux­ley (in any sort of con­ver­sa­tional text) so I’m not sure if they sound as they really would have sounded, but I can say that their views are pre­sented accu­rately and articulately.

Lewis’ dia­logue with Kennedy con­sid­ers “New Chris­tian­ity” and “Old Chris­tian­ity,” the nature of Jesus, objec­tions to mir­a­cles and the super­nat­ural and  whether there is such a thing as “objec­tive truth”. Lewis’ trilemma is pre­sented and explained, and Jesus’ claim to divin­ity is exam­ined. Lewis’ dia­logue with Hux­ley con­tin­ues the exam­i­na­tion of Jesus’ divine claim (Hux­ley argu­ing that Jesus did not claim to be divine), and pro­gresses the dis­cuss into whether Jesus’ claims of divin­ity were unique or sim­i­lar to claims the sages of other reli­gions have made. The new dia­logue, A World With­out Easter, is a short but worth­while read and mostly exam­ines the pop­u­lar atti­tude that the res­ur­rec­tion wasn’t a sig­nif­i­cant event.

So far Peter Kreeft has yet to fail to impress me. This is another well-written book, one that I highly rec­om­mend for those who are inter­ested in see­ing how the three dif­fer­ent world views pre­sented in the book would dia­logue and inter­act with each other.

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Kreeft’s Ecumenical Jihad

2010 February 26
by Jeremy

Well, it seems a mid-term and essay have taken con­trol of my life, so I won’t be able to put any sub­stan­tial thought towards post­ing (for today). I do think it’s worth men­tion­ing, how­ever, a talk given by Peter Kreeft on some­thing he calls “ecu­meni­cal jihad”–that through (reli­gious) sep­a­ra­tion comes unity (mighty para­dox­i­cal, isn’t it?). It’s about an hour and a half long, but it’s well worth the lis­ten if you’re inter­ested in hear­ing a lit­tle about inter­faith coop­er­a­tion. Though, to be clear, Kreeft is not a pluralist.

You can lis­ten to the lec­ture here.

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Hell’s doors: locked on the inside

2010 February 25
by Jeremy

I’ve noticed that a lot of dis­cus­sions tend to talk about “the damned” (for lack of a bet­ter phrase) with­out actu­ally talk­ing about them. That is to say that on the one hand, we argue over the exis­tence of Hell, and if it does exist, what kind of God would pos­si­bly cre­ate such a place. On the other hand, when we talk about the souls of those who will pop­u­late Hell we make a par­tic­u­lar assump­tion: they don’t want to be there.  I think the rea­son­ing is some­thing like this: “Every knee will bow and con­fess Jesus as Lord. There­fore, all will want to be with Jesus, espe­cially those going to Hell, who will be filled with regret”. I’m not entirely sure I believe this. In fact, I’m fairly cer­tain I don’t. I’m not even sure why the alter­na­tive has been long ignored. That upon see­ing Jesus, those who rejected Him will only be filled with more bit­ter­ness at the thought of their eter­nal des­ti­na­tion. A bit­ter­ness which will grow over time. Per­haps until it is all that is left of them. It’s a thought I share with C.S. Lewis, “I will­ingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, suc­cess­ful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside” (Com­plete C.S. Lewis Sig­na­ture Clas­sics, 626). And, in fact, it’s prob­a­bly one I’m going to have to insist on the next time I enter into a con­ver­sa­tion with respect to Hell.

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Inconsistent self

2010 February 25
by Jeremy

This is just a short thought in con­tin­u­a­tion from my post yes­ter­day on the virtue of mag­na­nim­ity. I find that there are cer­tain feel­ings which are related to those of inad­e­quacy, and I’ll call them ‘thoughts of con­sis­tency”. To give an exam­ple, this would take the form of doing or say­ing some­thing early in life and then com­ing to dis­agree with that view as one grows older. Truth­fully I don’t think there is any­thing wrong with this, and would think it rather hard to grow if not for express­ing views which are allowed to evolve. Take for instance a post I wrote quite a while ago, “Response to Post­mod­ern Bib­li­cal Author­ity” (it’s worth read­ing, so check it out). Since writ­ing it I’ve come to read more on the sub­ject (such as Lyotard’s books), and as a result I’ve come to bet­ter under­stand the argu­ment pre­sented.  Now, this is a case where I don’t nec­es­sar­ily agree with my con­clu­sion, though I wouldn’t say I still agree with my line of argu­ment (because, as a com­menter pointed out, it’s based on some mis­un­der­stand­ings). There may (and are) be cases where I do dis­agree with both my con­clu­sion and argu­men­ta­tion, or con­clu­sion but not my argu­men­ta­tion. The prob­lem comes when peo­ple are expected — such as in forum dis­cus­sions — to hold their view absolutely and that any change of mind is shown as some sort of weak­ness. What a ter­ri­bly destruc­tive atti­tude, I’ve been accused of it many times. Rather, these things are nec­es­sary for growth, as much as we may per­son­ally come to loathe some of the things we’ve said and done. And, in the end, if the result is a deeper under­stand­ing of God and greater wis­dom, then the cost of dis­agree­ing with your­self was well worth it. It should cause us to pause and think about how we present our views and teach­ings. With a proper, hum­ble atti­tude, I don’t think we have as much as an issue as we often imagine.

And per­son­ally, I love growth; learn­ing new things, “becom­ing wiser’. The humil­ity it requires is well worth it.–a lot of us could do with a lit­tle more humility.

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Virtue of Magnanimity

2010 February 24
by Jeremy

I have some­thing of a con­fes­sion to make: a lot of the time I feel inad­e­quate. I feel inad­e­quate in almost every­thing I do, espe­cially in the things oth­ers tell me I’m (really) good at.  When I do feel con­tent with myself, the moment is fleet­ing. I’m con­tent until I come across some­one else who does some­thing sim­i­lar to what I do–except they do it bet­ter. Or at least that’s what I think. It doesn’t mat­ter their age, their edu­ca­tion or their back­ground. It only mat­ters that I see myself as insignif­i­cant com­pared to them and what they are doing, even if the real­ity is the oppo­site. I’ve had feel­ings of inad­e­quacy to the point of  almost believ­ing that if oth­ers really knew how much I didn’t know (and I really don’t know a lot), they would shrug me off as puffed up, a char­la­tan or a fraud. I sus­pect that in a way this is what dri­ves peo­ple to be “unique,” and it’s what moti­vated Lewis’ advise that to be orig­i­nal, you need only be your­self. Lewis’ advise is harder than it first appears. For it seems to me that we feel less inad­e­quate if we imi­tate those we con­sider ‘great’ (and in con­sid­er­ing them great, we don’t con­sider them to be inad­e­quate). But to be orig­i­nal means to face our­selves, to stand in oppo­si­tion to our (feel­ings of) inadequacy.

In fact there are two doubts about myself that are con­stantly recur­ring. The first is the doubt that I will not amount to any­thing, least of all what I desire to do. The sec­ond is that all I’m ever really doing is “repeat­ing oth­ers,” so why bother in the first place (after all, there are other peo­ple repeat­ing the same things, and in bet­ter ways).  But I hap­pened upon some­thing when dis­cussing these feel­ings of inad­e­quacy with a friend: the medieval virtue of mag­na­nim­ity.

In research­ing mag­na­nim­ity, I came across the idea that mag­na­nim­ity is some­thing akin, almost the same as, what we call “self-esteem”. I think a rea­son­able def­i­n­i­tion of self-esteem would be “con­fi­dence in one­self” (I also think many have taken this to an extreme–unwar­ranted con­fi­dence in one­self), and while I think this has its rela­tions to mag­na­nim­ity, it is only a small part of mag­na­nim­ity. As I dis­cov­ered, mag­na­nim­ity is broad, cov­er­ing many virtues–not sim­ply con­fi­dence in one­self. To illus­trate what I mean I’ll have to enlist the aid of medieval philoso­pher, Thomas Aquinas.

In his most well known work, The Summa The­o­log­ica,  Aquinas addresses objec­tions to the virtue of mag­na­nim­ity, such as: “is it a virtue?” “What is its rela­tion to con­fi­dence?’ and “What is its rela­tion to assur­ance?” (It’s inter­est­ing that there is a dis­tinc­tion, here, between con­fi­dence and assur­ance–the things that never cross my mind, but any­way). But I’ll stick to out­lin­ing what Aquinas believes the virtue of mag­na­nim­ity is, then relat­ing that to my thoughts above (or at least attempt­ing to).

Mag­na­nim­ity and Fortitude

If we look closely at my ini­tial post we will dis­cover some­thing not explic­itly stated: fear. To give fear an audi­ence in one’s mind is to entirely remove mag­na­nim­ity from one’s pres­ence. That is to say that you are mag­nan­i­mous in spite of fear — this is what makes it a virtue — but you can­not be fear­ful in the pres­ence of mag­na­nim­ity. I believe we can relate this to for­ti­tude of the mind. For­ti­tude is described as “strength of mind that enables a per­son to encounter dan­ger or bear pain or adver­sity with courage” (it can also refer sim­ply to “strength”). In this respect, Aquinas states that, “it is clear that mag­na­nim­ity agrees with for­ti­tude in con­firm­ing the mind about some dif­fi­cult mat­ter” 1. In other words, mag­na­nim­ity is not to be con­fused with for­ti­tude (both virtues), though it relates to and works with for­ti­tude “about some dif­fi­cult mat­ter”. Mag­na­nim­ity is first of all a strength­en­ing of the mind in view of dif­fi­culty. Aquinas adds that herein Mag­na­nim­ity itself is not enough, for in mat­ters of death a man may become fear­ful (sup­port­ing my state­ment above).

Mag­na­nim­ity and Confidence

Inter­est­ingly, for­ti­tude is not the same as confidence–one flows from the other. Accord­ing to Aquinas, con­fi­dence “denotes a cer­tain strength of hope aris­ing from some obser­va­tion which gives one a strong opin­ion that one will obtain a cer­tain good” 2. Con­fi­dence begins with an obser­va­tion, for­ti­tude in the mind (it seems to me that for­ti­tude is the result of a deci­sion depen­dent upon that which is observed). For instance, one may begin with con­fi­dence and gain for­ti­tude. How­ever, upon los­ing con­fi­dence one like­wise loses for­ti­tude. For­ti­tude requires con­fi­dence, and a con­fi­dence which does not result in for­ti­tude is not really con­fi­dence. This is where one’s pos­ses­sion of mag­na­nim­ity is made or bro­ken. For if in an obser­va­tion one begins fear­ing, con­fi­dence and every­thing that fol­lows (mag­na­nim­ity) is lost. How­ever, if in an obser­va­tion one takes con­fi­dence, devel­op­ing for­ti­tude, then it’s pos­si­ble (though not nec­es­sary) that the virtue of mag­na­nim­ity will be pos­sessed. Mag­na­nim­ity is sec­ond of all con­fi­dence regard­less of perception.

Mag­na­nim­ity and Security

So far we’ve dis­cussed mag­na­nim­ity as pos­sess­ing for­ti­tude of the mind, and con­fi­dence in obser­va­tion. Virtues held in spite of the “real­ity of the mat­ter,” or thoughts oth­er­wise. That is that for­ti­tude of the mind is held regard­less of self-perception; con­fi­dence in obser­va­tion is held regard­less of cir­cum­stance. The last virtue in rela­tion to mag­na­nim­ity is secu­rity (oth­er­wise known as assur­ance). By secu­rity it is meant the removal of fear–the com­plete removal of fear. We mean a par­tic­u­lar kind of fear: despair. Con­sider again my ini­tial para­graph, what can be the only result of such intense inad­e­quacy? Despair. To feel inad­e­quate is to despair in one­self.  This, I sus­pect, is the hard­est aspect of mag­na­nim­ity; the aspect which pushes this virtue beyond the grasp of most peo­ple. Aquinas says that “secu­rity denotes per­fect free­dom of the mind from fear” 3. There can be no other way about it.

Con­clu­sion: Inad­e­quacy and Magnanimity

Admit­tedly, I prob­a­bly haven’t under­stood Aquinas per­fectly. I don’t know how a medieval philoso­pher would define some of the words used above, I also don’t have any resources that would point me in the right direc­tion. Though how­ever imper­fect my under­stand­ing of Aquinas, I am com­forted in know­ing that inad­e­quacy is com­mon enough that a virtue con­trary to it exists. I am also com­forted in com­ing to under­stand­ing this virtue of mag­na­nim­ity (and, I think, our cul­ture would be bet­ter off had it a good under­stand­ing of these “virtues” of the medieval Chris­t­ian philoso­phers). And herein is the chal­lenge: liv­ing a vir­tu­ous life. Feel­ing of inad­e­quacy are lies, as are com­par­isons with oth­ers that are unre­al­is­tic (I really shouldn’t be com­par­ing myself with any­one, period. I imag­ine it con­sti­tutes some sort of envy). But we fall into these lies because it’s eas­ier than fac­ing the truth of who we are, who we really are. I will be quick to add, how­ever, that one need not dis­play mag­na­nim­ity to over­come inad­e­quacy. Rather, one need only resolve to have a strong mind, be con­fi­dent and be assured in all they do, regard­less of thoughts and obser­va­tions otherwise.

And that, I think, is a much scarier thing than deal­ing with the thought that we’re inadequate.

  1. Thomas Aquinas, Summa The­o­log­ica, Vol. III, book II, Q. 129, arti­cle 5
  2. Ibid. arti­cle 6
  3. Ibid. arti­cle 7
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Apologist’s Evening Prayer

2010 February 24
by Jeremy

I just fin­ished Peter Kreeft’s Heaven and Hell, and he closes the book with a piece of poetry writ­ten by C.S. Lewis. I’m sur­prised I haven’t come across this before, the admirer of Lewis that I am (I’m told its from his book Reflec­tions on the Psalms). He seems to be say­ing that there is a cer­tain dan­ger in intel­lec­tual argu­ments and log­i­cal proofs for God’s exis­tence. Namely, that such things may very well deaden one’s faith, turn­ing it into an intel­lec­tual exer­cise, rather than a mat­ter of the heart (if one’s not care­ful). (Unfor­tu­nately) from expe­ri­ence, I can attest to this.

From all my lame defeats and oh! much more
From all the vic­to­ries that I seem to score;
From clev­er­ness shot forth on Thy behalf
At which, while angels weep, the audi­ence laugh;
From all my proofs of Thy divin­ity
Thou, who wouldst give no other sign, deliver me

Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust instead
Of Thee, their thin-worn image of thy head.
From all me thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the nar­row gate and the needle’s eye,
Take me from all my trumpery lest I die.

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Mohler: Christian, Muslim Dialogue

2010 February 24
by Jeremy

Mohler IslamJustin Tay­lor has posted a link on his blog to a pre­sen­ta­tion on Islam by Dr. Al Mohler. A good intro­duc­tion to the Chris­t­ian / Mus­lim dia­logue, Mohler’s talk is described as an exam­i­na­tion of “some of the fun­da­men­tal ways in which Islam and Chris­tian­ity are at odds with one another, and how Chris­tians and local churches can best think through their impli­ca­tions for life and min­istry.” Hav­ing lis­tened to it last night, I can say that it’s very infor­ma­tive and a worth the lis­ten if you’re inter­ested in the Chris­t­ian / Mus­lim dynamic.

You can find the pre­sen­ta­tion here.

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Plantinga and Gale on God and Evil

2010 February 23
by Jeremy

One of the most inter­est­ing (and humor­ous) dis­cus­sions I’ve ever seen on the topic of God and evil was one between philoso­phers Alvin Planti­nga and Richard Gale. Planti­nga is notable for two things; he’s regarded as one of the pio­neers in the renais­sance of Chris­t­ian phi­los­o­phy, as it’s called. He’s also con­sid­ered to have put an end to the intel­lec­tual argu­ment from evil. Gale has him­self writ­ten quite a few books on meta­physics, ontol­ogy and God. The dia­logue is very infor­ma­tive and the dis­cus­sion easy to fol­low (even if at times a bit dif­fi­cult to under­stand­ing). So please, watch :) Which gives me an idea for another post…

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Stretched Illustrations?

2010 February 23
by Jeremy

(**Spoil­ers below**)

Some times I won­der how peo­ple arrive at cer­tain inter­pre­ta­tions of “art”. Strangely enough, I came across this arti­cle which sets about using Avatar  as a metaphor for “emer­gent evan­ge­lism”. The main thrust of the arti­cle is that we “don’t bring God to the other,” rather, that “we find God in the other”–Jake Sully is the per­fect exam­ple of this sort of mind­set, or so it’s claimed. I don’t want to exam­ine the entire arti­cle, only one paragraph.

Evan­ge­lism is a two-way street

This is where the Avatar movie is a great metaphor for what evan­ge­lism could and should become. Although Jake Sully entered the Na’vi world (Pan­dora) ini­tially with an agenda in mind, he got to appre­ci­ate their way of life, its beauty so much so that he wanted to become part of it. Even­tu­ally his pres­ence there really helped to save them. But it was some­thing organic. Evan­ge­lism should really be a two way street. We enter the other’s world because we really believe we are enriched by the inter­ac­tion and our hori­zons will be enlarged. We cel­e­brate good and beauty where ever we find it. Jesus often found faith out­side his reli­gious tribe (Israel, God’s peo­ple) and praised it (Matthew 8:10; 15:28 to name a few instances). Actu­ally, when we read the Gospels we often find Jesus sad­dened by the lack of faith among his own peo­ple and followers.

I want to begin by look­ing at the sen­tence “Even­tu­ally his pres­ence there really helped to save them” and ask­ing a ques­tion, by what means did Jake Sully save the Na’vi? To briefly explain some of the plot; as the movie goes, Jake’s agenda is to dis­cover “inside infor­ma­tion” about the Na’vi, gain their trust (under­stand their ways) and then con­vince them to leave their “home tree” (he was also expected to turn his back on them when the time called for it). How­ever, he grows to appre­ci­ate the Na’vi, even­tu­ally falling in love with one of them (Neytiri) and, in the end, he saves them from their would be human mur­der­ers. Assum­ing that Jake is pre­sented as a Christ fig­ure, then the anal­ogy — both in the movie, and in this arti­cle — fails. I believe there are three sig­nif­i­cant ways the anal­ogy fails.

Fail­ure #1 A basic tenet of the Chris­t­ian faith states that we are sin­ful, fallen, and noth­ing we can do of our­selves will bring us back into com­mu­nion with God (the Father). This does not mean that God can become man, and then use one of our meth­ods (where we couldn’t use it) to save us. Any human method of “sal­va­tion” is insuf­fi­cient. This means that for our com­mu­nion with God to be restored, He must do a divine work. How­ever, in Avatar this is exactly what Jake does–he becomes a Na’vi, sav­ing them with their own means.

Fail­ure #2 To save the Na’vi, Jake must betray the entire human race–it’s the only way. To ask a ques­tion: did Jesus aban­don God, or the Israelites? On the contrary–salvation is only pos­si­ble through God, not by any other means (and He did not aban­don the Israelites). In fact this also relates to the Incar­na­tion. Con­sider that through­out almost all of the movie, Jake only appears as a Na’vi, but in essence he is still human. The com­pa­ra­ble Chris­t­ian heresy is known as Docetism, the belief that Jesus only appeared human (and sub­se­quently, did not really suf­fer). It is only until the end of the movie, where Jake dies and is res­ur­rected as a Na’vi, that he truly pos­sess the essence of a Na’vi. But con­sider the trade-off. Either Jake pos­sess a Na’vi nature, or a human nature–he does not pos­sess both at the same time.

Fail­ure #3 It is assumed that the Na’vi belief sys­tem is not only as valid as any human belief sys­tem, but more valid than what humans pos­sess. This is the movie’s answer to the prob­lem of sin. When we first meet the Na’vi (Neytiri, specif­i­cally), we’re intro­duced to a Jake who is being scolded for killing. The rea­son? Every­thing on Pan­dora is con­nected and has a life force–nature and ani­mals (includ­ing the Na’vi) are in per­fect har­mony. It is not until humans — tech­nol­ogy dri­ven and dis­con­nected from nature — show up that this order is upset. This reli­gious sys­tem (which is very sim­i­lar to ani­mism, or pan­the­ism) is one of the tools Jake uses to defeat Pandora’s human invadors. It is a sig­nif­i­cant vic­tory when Jake tames a Toruk–he and nature are truly one. In other words, nature is god. A corol­lary of this is the teach­ing that devel­op­ment and tech­nol­ogy is bad. Had humans not become dis­con­nected from nature, we wouldn’t have had to travel to Pan­dora. And, if we did, we would have been peaceful.

Where the the­ol­ogy of the movie is con­cerned, we learn a few things:

  • Suf­fer­ing is a result of dis­con­nec­tion with nature
  • We can ‘save’ our­selves by recon­nect­ing with nature
  • Devel­op­ment and tech­nol­ogy is bad, as it requires the destruc­tion of nature
  • There is a life force which trav­els through all of us, con­nect­ing everyone

It does sound awfully sim­i­lar to New Ageism, or Pagan­ism, doesn’t it?

But what of evan­ge­lism being a two way street? I think that absolutely, such inter­ac­tion can be ben­e­fi­cial and enriching–human cul­ture is a gift from God. How­ever, it’s not sim­ply about cel­e­brat­ing “good and beauty” wher­ever we find it. That isn’t enough; good and beauty don’t restore one’s rela­tion­ship with God (nei­ther does mis­di­rected sin­cer­ity). It’s about fol­low­ing the com­mands of Jesus: “And He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all cre­ation.” (Mark 16:15). I engage in evan­ge­lism because I want to see peo­ple come to know and believe and trust in Jesus. I don’t “evan­ge­lize to be evangelized”–I already know the mes­sage. I’m evan­ge­liz­ing because I believe the mes­sage and peo­ple need sav­ing. And absolutely, we need to form relationships.

A quick word on the pro­vided exam­ples of Jesus find­ing “faith out­side of his reli­gious tribe, and prais­ing it”. I must point out that the com­par­i­son fails in that those who are dis­play­ing faith, are dis­play­ing it towards him–they are prais­ing God, seek­ing after God. They aren’t being praised for their sin­cere dis­plays of faith in any other Gods. They aren’t approach­ing Jesus and say­ing, ‘You’re a nice guy, but I believe in Ba’al”. Jesus isn’t going to praise them for that sentiment.

In the end, if this is an exam­ple of “emer­gent evan­ge­lism,” then I fear “emer­gent evan­ge­lism” is a rejec­tion of Jesus.

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Truth isn’t a club

2010 February 22
by Jeremy

While read­ing The Mak­ing of an Athe­ist I really started to think about what I’m going to call a “mis­ap­plied apolo­getic”. This is really just a nice way of describ­ing “apol­o­gists” who beat peo­ple over the head with “truth”–it hap­pens more than you think. It’s the sort of peo­ple that grab a hold of an idea, take it to be absolutely true (whether or not it is, though as far as they’re con­cerned, it is) and then pro­ceed to tell every­one else how wrong they are. I sup­pose, like me, they for­got to read the end of 1 Peter 3:15. Two exam­ples to illus­trate what I mean; one of these exam­ples is some­thing of an in-house apolo­getic issue–the ‘YEC / Evo­lu­tion’ debate. The other, is con­cern­ing a cer­tain peo­ple group which the church has grossly mishandled.

I learned a long time ago that it wasn’t worth my time to get involved in a YEC debate (for those who don’t know, Young Earth Cre­ation­ism, the view that God cre­ated the world in 6, 24 hour peri­ods, as described in Gen­e­sis 1 and that the uni­verse is only 6,000 — 10,000 years old). For the most part, there is an extreme lack of humil­ity and an atti­tude of supe­ri­or­ity that just shouldn’t be present in the life of a Chris­t­ian. Even if what’s under dis­cus­sion is an in house debate–people tend to look through the win­dows, as it were. Peo­ple are going to notice the lack of humil­ity and meek­ness. To ask a ques­tion, how many peo­ple get caught up on a YEC view of Scrip­ture and dis­miss Jesus as a result? I’m fairly cer­tain that choos­ing not to believe in YEC will not affect anyone’s sal­va­tion, yet some groups insist on it–believe in YEC or oth­er­wise you under­mine the entire foun­da­tion of Chris­tian­ity. One of the most com­mon ques­tions I come across is exactly this ques­tion: “Can I be a Chris­t­ian and believe in evo­lu­tion?” The answer, even though some of us don’t like to admit it, is yes. But to do so we would have to admit that we don’t know every­thing (remem­ber Job 38:4? “Where were you when I laid the foun­da­tions of the earth…”). Peo­ple don’t ask why Chris­tians hate sci­ence for no rea­son. Even if the per­cep­tion was ini­tially a false­hood, it’s quickly becom­ing real­ity. It’s extremely dis­heart­en­ing to me when some of us con­fuse the core mes­sage of the Gospel with these sec­ondary issues. The result is con­fus­ing and only turns peo­ple off Jesus.

The other exam­ple I wanted to men­tion might make peo­ple uncomfortable–homosexuality. The church has severely mis­han­dled the ‘homo­sex­ual issue,’ and while I agree that the lifestyle is sin, I don’t believe that gives any­one the “right” to club them over the head with “God’s word”. I came across a very good video by Ravi Zacharias and he han­dles this ques­tion exquis­itely. Rather than imme­di­ately go to Leviti­cus or Romans, he cre­ates a dis­tinc­tion between a homo­sex­ual lifestyle (which is what Scrip­ture always refers to) and a spe­cific sex­ual dis­po­si­tion. There is a hum­ble­ness and approach­a­bil­ity in this treat­ment of homo­sex­u­al­ity that should be exem­pli­fied by all Chris­tians. Unfor­tu­nately, a lot of the time (some) Chris­tians tend to imme­di­ately run to Leviti­cus or Romans and blurt out (per­haps with­out think­ing) the evils of homo­sex­u­al­ity. Yet at the same time we for­get the evils of (het­ero­sex­ual) lust, greed, envy and glut­tony. Yes, the life style is a sin and we believe so out of love for peo­ple, but we have to approach this issue with prayer­ful, sen­si­tive and reflec­tive hearts. We really do need to be “lit­tle Christs” when approach­ing every­one.

I think this may have turned into some­thing I wasn’t orig­i­nally plan­ning, but I’ve said it nonethe­less. This is some­thing that really grieves my heart, when Chris­tians treat each other and oth­ers unChrist­like. We really need to watch our­selves because it’s by our actions we’ll be judged.

As Niet­zsche said: “I might believe in the Redeemer if His fol­low­ers looked more Redeemed”.

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