Christians and the Identification of God

As the title may indicate, I spent a lot of time on my honeymoon reading. And doing other unimportant stuff. Mostly what I read was a book on Paul by Jerome Murphy-O'Connor and Jurgen Moltmann's The Crucified God. My wife compromised on the amount of literature I was allowed to bring, and believe me, choosing just two texts was like pulling several teeth.

But I digress.

Moltmann sees all Christian theology as attempting to answer why Jesus asked "my God my God why have you forsaken me?" He sees it as a glimpse into the nature of God, but also whether or not this proclamation is the end or the beginning.

Theodicy is a powerful fan of flame. It begins and spirals amidst abstractions and climaxes in a broad sense of physical -- even existential -- suffering. One's identity may be forged in the triumphs of life, but most people remember such wonderful experiences as they were: in times of being lost or forsaken. A theology without faith is a computer without a battery. One tug on the power supply and everything simply shuts down. Foundationally, when there is no such thing, it becomes a black hole.

Theology (or dogmatics) is an act of faith. According to Karl Barth, "Faith is the determination of human action by the being of the Church and therefore by Jesus Christ, by the gracious address of God to man. The summation of determination is bound up in the character of grace. Barth's point is a potent one, but Moltmann seems to see it as insufficient.

For Moltmann, suffering as a prison of war, suffering was as in your face as such a thing could be. Faith was forsaken as there was nothing there to retain. This, however, changes when a nailed forsaken Messiah is shown in his brokenness.

Identity is bound up, most often, in suffering and in trials. The mysticism of suffering is compared with other sufferings. Moltmann suggests, as did several in his prison camp, that Jesus found him in his suffering. It becomes not only a tangible reality to witness parallel suffering when one is stricken by man, but it also brings forth empathy and a genuine response; whether of anger or compassion.

In my experience, I haven't suffered in comparison to many people. I haven't had my finger nails removed by pliers, nor have I ever had boiling oil poured down my throat. Suffering has a sense of putting one in their place, but it also shifts focus to what really matters.

The brother and sister that feels forsaken. When the crucified God was hanging there, his cry of loneliness is a cry that everyone who has suffered is able to picture with ultimate clarity. God gave of himself to exemplify how God is for us and with us. When suffering is found, identity is not far behind.

When you identify with the crucified God, you identify with everyone else who has suffered. Empathy seems to be the slope towards reconciliation at that point, abstraction be damned. A world without suffering would befit only the eschaton. A world that is presently suffering showcases the need for such an end, an end to death, an end to suffering, an end to the forging of identity within pain and evil.

Thankfully, one hopes, the formation of identity within God and us doesn't cease upon the forsaken breath in our chests. Hopefully, with universal pleas, it begins thus.

Just some mere thoughts.

--Nick

Hope in the Heart of Despair

I was talking with one of my best friends, and the topic of hope in the face of fear and death came up. This usually happens in our conversations, and we briefly reflected on why (or if) we should hope in this world.

Mind you, for me this isn't necessarily about fatalism. It is instead of despair and the problem of suffering. I won't speak as to my friend's thoughts (though we share much in common), but I may just reflect on suffering as a corporate entity.

In my experience, the problem of evil is most despairing. When I've talked with good friends (theist and non-theist), it is a constant issue. For some, they abandon hope, or leave the faith, or somehow becomes stronger. Usually the first two options.

I think the best response to this is, "I don't know."

I don't know if it will get better, or if what you desire will come to pass, or what God or fate was doing in the mist. It is very difficult to assert that "everything works out for good" or "God wanted this" or something along those lines.

For most of my friends, false hope is not an option. For me, I agree.

In meditating on the First Testament story (Old Testament I suppose is what you call it), I noticed that horrible acts and sequences occur, often without warning, and they end in despair. The story of King David is heartbreaking, a life lived in murder and adultery and grasping at the divine straws, playing a secret chord that only YHWH could hear.

Or the story of the Mother of all Living, Eve. Seeing her children torn apart, the first human murder ever to occur within her lifetime. She died without vindication, without seeing the flourishing of humanity.

Life is sometimes random, cruel, brutish and, sometimes if you are lucky, short. Dust to dust.

So what do we do? How should we then live?

Personally, and this may just be silly, but I listen to music. Classical music, no lyrics. And I try, I try to think of beautiful things. I try to remember the last time I had a decent laugh, or the last time I cuddled with my girlfriend, or the last time I had a comma on my bank account.

But I try to push past that, because ashes aren't going to inherit much of anything.

What makes me happy? What doesn't make me suffer? What brings me hope?

I find hope in an empty keyboard sometimes, because of unbridled potential.

I find hope in an empty church, because sounds echo and bounce and settle.

I find hope in death being overturned and given a new purpose, because death is no longer something to fear.

Will I always think this way? Likely not. But, in this moment, I no longer see a heart of despair. And perhaps that is enough for now.

If you don't quite get what I'm alluding to, listen to "I Still Haven't Found what I'm Looking For" by U2. It grasps at it pretty well.

Thanks.

--Nick

Keith DeRose, "Universalism, Hope & The Hitler Types"

Keith has given us another interesting post. I quite liked it.

Enjoy.

"Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem..."

I'm taking the phrase "the Hitler types" from a post by Richard Mouw (my former teacher at Calvin College: as if there weren't enough Calvin connections in this series!). You may want to read Mouw's whole post, but to set the context for the bit about Hitler, Mouw has stated clearly that he is not a universalist, and in explaining his position, he seems to have indicated that he agrees with Rob Bell that people who choose hell will get it, when he writes:

And I certainly do believe that some folks choose that hell. The Hitler types. The man who kidnaps young girls and sells them into sexual slavery. They are well on their way to hell, to becoming inhuman monsters. To be sure, as the hymn rightly reminds us: "The vilest offender who truly believes/ that moment from Jesus a pardon receives." But for those who persist in their wicked ways, eternal separation is the natural outcome of all the choices they have made along the way.

And many have (especially recently) expressed finding it especially difficult to believe that the likes of Hitler (or Tony Soprano, in the case of an odd opinion piece in the NYTimes by Russ Douthat!) might make it to heaven. Why? Well, the most natural explanation for the special problem here would be that these "Hitler types" are especially bad. Picking up on that, together with Mouw's later-expressed openness to hope that people might be able to accept Christ after death, one colorful comment to Mouw's post reads:

But then, you do affirm hell to be a real place, sir. Full of those "Hitler types" and pedophiles. As for the rest of us gossips, slanderers, and adulterers of the heart, things are looking up. Turns out, God is a God of multiple chances. In this life, and the next.

I don't think Mouw's special problem with Hitler types going to heaven is directly that they are just too bad to make it in. Mouw does after all immediately go on to indicate his agreement with the hymn that even the "vilest offenders" can be pardoned, so if there are chances after death (which I don't read Mouw as necessarily endorsing, but as at least hoping for and not ruling out), it would seem possible that even the vilest offenders might have a chance. My guess is that Mouw's thinking is that the "Hitler types" are especially unlikely to turn to Jesus, even if they do get the chance to do so after death: They are very solidly in the "choosing hell" column now, and there's little reason to think they won't continue to be so.

And so, certain individuals are thought to be especially problematic for universalism. The main reason for thinking they don't wipe out hope (or so it seems to me) is that we know already from this life that even the most dramatic turnarounds are possible - and we get a pretty good example of such a turnaround in Acts in the case of Saul/Paul, who seems to have been a bit of a "Hitler type"--the "chief of sinners" to use his own (translated) way of expressing that he was "the vilest offender." (It is perhaps no coincidence that the best scriptural grounds for thinking that Christ's act of righteousness actually might lead to acquittal and life for all people are from the writings of one who had been something of a Hitler type himself before being redeemed.) My response in my on-line defense of universalism: "We know that some in this life have been only been moving further and further away from accepting Christ. And some people can be very obstinate. And some have become incredibly evil in this life. But, on the other hand, even in this short life, we all know of instances in which people having all three of these problems to a great degree who were brought around and were saved. So, again, I see no grounds for pessimism that an infinitely resourceful God, who is able to take as much time as He needs, will be able to win over everyone eventually." Of course, I am here supposing that God's ability to save people continues after their death, and that God does indeed desire that all people will be saved, but given those assumptions, which seem correct to me, I see little reason to give up hope here. (And without those assumptions, hopelessness seems to spread far beyond the Hitler types, so I'm seeing not much of a special problem in these cases.)

Victims and (perhaps even more so) the loved ones of victims of cruel and horrible evils may find the idea of the perpetrators of these evils ever escaping hell revolting. (And I imagine that some of the loved ones of some of the worst abuses of Saul's might have found it difficult to hope for his salvation.) This of course doesn't apply to all of the victims or loved ones of victims: some are astoundingly gracious about this. (A wonderful example of someone adopting a gracious point of view is given in this account of a 9/11 survivor.) Those of us who hold that or hope that even the perpetrators of the worst evils of this world may eventually be reconciled with their victims & with God should recognize that the resistance some people feel to such a view and to such a hope can be coming from a good place -- concern for the victims and for justice -- even as we think this resistance is somehow ultimately wrong. And while we may hold that joining God in hoping or desiring that all people will be saved is some kind of ideal, we should at the same time recognize that in our messy world, not all cases of adopting this hope would be changes for the better: For some who don't hold this hope, some of the nearest versions of themselves who do hold such a hope may do so because they are not as concerned for those who have suffered. We certainly don't want to encourage them to become such versions of themselves.

I strongly encourage those of an opposite point of view to take a similar attitude. If you for instance think that all who fail to accept Christ before death will suffer eternal conscious torment, and you think that this is made clear enough that in some good sense we should not even hope for a better fate for them, you may think that in some sense not hoping for, say, the wellbeing of a deceased loved one is some kind of ideal. (This way of thinking seems very alien to me, but that's not surprising: the differences in points of view here are very great.) But you can still recognize that those who hold such a hope may be coming from a very good place, and that in our messy world, not all cases of abandoning such hope would be changes for the better.

DeRose/ Prosblogion Blog

You can find Thomas Talbott commenting on purgatory and other things in the comments section. A valuable resource.

--Nick

Conditional Futurism: New Perspective of End-Times Prophecy, a (not so) brief review

Tackling anything remotely theological these days is no small task. From Mark Driscoll’s “Real Marriage” to Rob Bell’s “Love Wins,” there is always something currently charged in the air within Christendom. And the nature of prophecy as it applies to the future is no less controversial. It deals with the creation of a new interpretive lens and collapses in a culmination at the very gates of Revelation.

Simply put, “Conditional Futurism” is the lens of which prophecy is conditional. Or, rather, that while the word and purpose of the Lord never alters, the outcome of the word of the Lord can vary. Prophecy, according to author James Goetz, is often if not always conditional, and based upon cause and effect.

“If this, then this.”

He cites abundant Scriptures, and often it seems his case is simply to let Scripture stand on it’s own. At the very beginning of the book, Goetz simply quotes God’s words in Jeremiah 18:7-8 which state, “If at any time I announce that a nation or kingdom is to be uprooted, torn down and destroyed, and if that nation I warned repents of its evil, then I will relent and not inflict on it the disaster I had planned.” See also the story of Jonah and Ninevah for another example.

James realizes that this theme of conditional prophecy is not limited to a few isolated texts. Rather, James begins with Genesis and the Mosaic Covenant and works through the Davidic Dynasty to the Gospels and finally ends up at the always open gates of Revelation. The work is consistently engaging and offers quite a bit of support, always deferring to Scripture and often allowing Scripture to speak on it’s own.

There are some elements that I do think James could’ve engaged with in a stronger fashion. There are several different types of prophecy used throughout Scripture, and for the layman who knows little of the finer points, it would’ve been helpful to include a chapter or section exploring the various methods. Very easily, this could lead to a flattening of typology in various prophetic methods. I am not certain James does indeed flatten said typology, but I do think this is an area that could’ve used greater explanation.

“If I say to a wicked person, ‘You will surely die,’ but they then turn away from their sin and do what is just and right — if they give back what they took in pledge for a loan, returns what they have stolen, follows the decrees that give life, and do no evil — that person will surely life; they shall not die.” Ezekiel 33:14-15

The single strongest part of the entire book comes in two chapters near the end. The first chapter is an exegetical study on the letters of 1 and 2 Peter, with specific preference placed on the harrowing of hell, or Christ’s descent into hell. Here. James offers multiple interpretive methods, pulling from Aquinas, Gregory of Nyssa, Origen and Augustine. After showing several interpretations, James delves into his perspective on why these passages support postmortem salvation. Not only was postmortem salvation considered a valid option, it was indeed a dominant option within the early church fathers as the Apostles. Sees the Apostles Creed. James concludes this strong section with his belief that Jesus’s descent included the gospel being proclaimed and salvation being offered to all who dwelt in hell. This is the most controversial part of the entire book, and also the most interesting. Though I already had a fairly strong belief in the possibility of postmortem salvation based on my own research, James’ exegesis has swayed me even closer to embracing the view. For modern theologians who propose the harrowing of hell belief, see Jurgen Moltmann’s “Descent into Hell” and Hans Urs von Balthasar’s “Mysterium Paschale.”

Within this chapter includes several far more speculative elements. James touches on the nephilim in Genesis 6:1-8, and his findings are fascinating. James draws from the Book of Enoch and and Scripture, concluding that indeed some fallen angels who disregarded their charge to guard humans and instead married women. He makes this claim that these spirits within Peter were human angelophanies based on the following evidence:

It is consistent with modern and ancient understandings of mammalians reproduction. It is consistent with Numbers 13:31-33, which says that the sons of Anak descended from the nephilim. Their appearance, according to Numbers, was like grasshoppers. This also includes Genesis 6 and the judgments that befell the human race, which makes sense if these beings are indeed human of some sort. This includes the wickedness of both pure human and the offspring. All of the wickedness could include these “spirits.” You also have Hebrews 13:2 which says that some people showed kindness to angels while thinking those angels were human. This seems to be a possibility for the spirits imprisoned and that Christ’s appearance offers conditional salvation. Simply put, I’m not convinced by this, but I do find it compelling enough to do my own research. In fact, I would argue that I am indeed excited to further explore the idea.

“Therefore, your majesty, be pleased to accept my advice: renounce your sins by doing what is right, and your wickedness by being kind to the oppressed. It may be that then your prosperity will continue.” Daniel 4:27.

The final chapter deals with judgment and the book of Revelation. This is by far the most complex chapter in the entire book. James begins with his research into the “kings of the earth,” showing the complexity of the phrase throughout. It is used 14 times in the book of Revelation, and it offers multiple perspectives on their meaning. Revelation 1:5 tells use that Christ rules the kings, while Revelation 17:8 tells use that the prostitute instead is their ruler. I’m not of the opinion that Scripture contradicts itself, so we have to be very careful how to interpret everything within this incredibly symbolic book. It is this research that leads James to conclude that the gates of Revelation never close and the kings of the earth are shown entering, and this is consistent with postmortem salvation for those who choose it. I’m not convinced that Revelation teaches the potential postmortem salvation of those outside the gates because of various factors (the second death being one), but it does not strike me as outlandish to believe what James proposes. And his conclusions is gracious enough to allow for future distinction.

Conditional Futurism doesn’t demand postmortem conversion, but it is consistent with it and I believe that James, whether or not he is ultimately successful in his writings, has indeed made it a priority to respect Scripture and maintain a biblically systematic consistency. For a wider case, I recommend Gregory MacDonald’s “The Evangelical Universalist.”

James has kept his personal life uninvolved from the scholarship shown, and for mostly good reason. It is very easy to write off an individual if they proclaim passionately a biblical view one disagrees with. Though this can make for a dry read given how much data is being presented, it does allow the reader to simply wrestle with the data itself and not the passion of the writer. This is entirely subjective, and I believe it worked in a positive manner.

However, in the final chapter after James has worked through objections to postmortem salvation and the kings of the earth, he delves into some brief personal revelations about his past resignation from his ministry due to his belief in postmortem conversions. He gives examples of Carlton Pearson who became an inclusive universalist, which James believes is incapable with conditional futurism as conditional futurism depends solely on Christ for salvation. James also touches on Rob Bell’s “Love Wins,” which he believes is feasible with conditional futurism. James is an exclusivist it seems, and everything from postmortem salvation to universalism must be filtered solely and exclusively through Jesus Christ. Opponents will and should appreciate this exclusive emphasis.

“Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the sovereign Lord. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?” Ezekiel 18:23.

Overall, this book was refreshing. It lacks emotional manipulation and offers countless Scriptures to wrestle with. It offers a unique perspective on the “spirits” in prison, and makes a compelling case for the nature of angelic beings. James’ case for postmortem salvation is strong and I am now confident in openly expressing my support of his conclusions on that topic. I’m not entirely convinced of “conditional futurism” as the lacking elements above show, but I do believe this is a reasonable approach to Scripture and I believe there is room for further dialogue on this topic.

To the conversation here, and to the conversation in the beyond.

4 stars out of 5.

--Nick

Site of review, The Christian Manifesto

--resource publications an imprint of Wipf and Stock publishing--

Roger Olson, "John Piper & Judgment"

This got me thinking. I remember Greg Boyd preaching a sermon back in the day addressing John Piper (though not by name, he made a point of critiquing the view not the man) and denouncing what I'm (cheekily) dubbing "Calvinistic Divine Command Theory." I'm certain there is a technical term, but I like my idea better.

Anyway. Olson is -- I think -- sharp but fair. He gets a little overly pointed at the end (something I'm not certain I endorse), but I'm curious to see if John Piper will indeed respond. This is not the first time John Piper has made comments of this nature. After this, I'm not certain I see much of a difference between Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson in regards to disasters/terrorist acts and calling upon the name of God as a salve to tragic wounds.

Hopefully, we'll become privy to the direct link Piper has to the Almighty, or Piper will admit he was wrong and apologize, or there is some third option I can't foresee. Either way, read the article.

To continue, Roger Olson.

--Nick