Life is hard

Haven't posted anything in a long time for various. The title pretty much sums things up.

Since beginning work, I've become acutely aware of my shortcomings - in every aspect of my life. Be it work, personal life, church, relationships, I am sub-par. Sure there are times I can bluff my way out of situations, but the truth surfaces and I'm always found wanting.

Thankfully God is good, even when life is hard. For now, that's the only thing keeping me sane. It's always humbling to know that the Christian God is a personal God, and that he understands the pain human beings go through.

I am a failure, thankfully he isn't.

Thoughts on Evangelism

Today in my church's Growth Group, we were looking at Luke 13:10-21, and towards the end of the study, our focus was on the topic of evangelism.

Soon after, as a group, we talked about how we might step out of our comfort zones and do some evangelism. A couple of ideas were thrown out - I managed to plug YFC - and we ended up deciding to do a hospital visit, with the goal of sharing the gospel to the patients. 

I have very little experience sharing the gospel to the elderly, and the last time I did something similar was some years back, so this will be akin to a new experience. I merely hope that as a Growth Group, our desire to share the gospel does not end with this visit. 

I find this hymn both encouraging and challenging whenever I consider my own evangelistic efforts. 

On the larger topic of evangelism, being back in Malaysia meant that I am now more involved with YFC. I've been reminded that evangelism is tough work for me - it takes a large toll on my energy levels, be it physical, mental or emotional. At the same time, I've become aware of its significance in a different way, perhaps starting work has changed my perception about people, and how to do evangelism well. After all, sharing the gospel is one of the outward signs of someone seeking to follow Jesus. So I've become more concerned with the 'right living' aspect - that our theology (right thinking) must lead to a distinctly Christian life (right living). And one aspect of that is living a cross-shaped life (cf. Luke 9:23), which means that sacrifice is needed, and a cost must be paid if we choose to follow Jesus. 

Anyways, I need to find more like-minded Christians. I sometimes feel like I'm living the Christian life alone. 

Learned a new song at church

Our church has just started a sermon series in Mark's gospel beginning from 8:27. 

We learned this song today. The lyrics are good, the melody too - simple and hymnic. 

I especially like the closing four lines of the second stanza: 

See the King who made the sun
And the moon and shining stars
Let the soldiers hold and nail Him down
So that He could save them. 

The irony in those lines is extremely evocative. First we are presented with a picture of Christ's role in creation; we are taken in flight to consider the beauty and majesty of the cosmos - then suddenly we are brought back to the dirt and grime the cross. And those hands submits to the weakness of men - all in order to save those who would have him killed. I think it is simply astounding.

Cheers for good gospel songs!

Some thoughts on the human condition - free will

In conversations with Christians who disagree, or are uncomfortable with Reformed (or Calvinist) soteriology, the notion that God chooses some, and not others, unconditionally – and God’s choosing (election) is the determining factor of whether someone believes in the gospel - is passionately contested. To rephrase the Reformed position: God elects His people, therefore His people believe. The causation here is not simply related to possibility, but to actuality. This means that God’s elect are 1) enabled (rather than just ‘able’) to believe; therefore 2) will believe. These two aspects are important when contrasted to the state of the non-elect (i.e., the reprobate). They are 1) unable(d) to believe, therefore 2) will not believe.

I know many people have many issues with this necessarily abbreviated formulation (I hope it is clear at least), but in this post I would like to address one of the rejoinders I have heard, which is that this removes the individual’s freedom to accept or reject God, and if individuals do not have this freedom, then God is cruel and unfair. Let us call this the ‘free will’ position. Simply put, every person has only two choices, which carry implications: 1) believe the gospel, or ‘love God,’ and so enjoy all the benefits of being His people; 2) reject God and so face judgment and punishment.

Right, so let us consider the ‘free will’ argument heuristically from the perspective of ‘love:’ since God loves us (all human beings), He gives us free will to choose whether to reciprocate that love. Coerced love is not love. Love – by definition, must be voluntary. Here’s a short clip of renowned Christian apologist Ravi Zecharias articulating this point: 

Ravi says ‘[y]ou cannot have love without the freedom of the will (2:56).’ Although Ravi is not talking about God’s election in salvation, he does touch upon the issue regarding the choice of human beings to love God (i.e., believe the gospel): 

‘If love is a supreme ethic, and freedom is indispensable to love; and God’s supreme goal for you and for me is that we will love Him with all of our hearts, and love our neighbours as ourselves, for Him to violate our free will would be to violate that which is a necessary component so that love can flourish, and love can be expressed […] (3:16).’

Ravi expresses this beautifully, and it seems to make sense. My objection is not that love must be a voluntary act of volition; it is rather than the human will is ‘free.’ What Christians mean when we talk about ‘human free will’ is 1) frequently unclear, and 2) often seems to be contrary to the Bible’s understanding of the human will. To address the first problem, here’s an Arminian’s definition of ‘free will’ which I will adhere to:  

‘Power of contrary choice is the typical Arminian view of free will. In philosophy this is known as non-compatibilist freedom or libertarian freedom. In this view, “free will” means being able to do otherwise. In other words, in this view, you are only acting freely when and if you could do otherwise than you do. And this does not just mean “physical ability” to do otherwise; it means real ability — that you genuinely could have chosen to do something else but intellectually chose the course of action you took even if you actually preferred something else.’

This definition is important, because 1) I think this is generally how Ravi conceives of free will, and 2) in the following extract, I think the author uses the word ‘free’ in this way. This is an extended passage by Richard Hays excerpted from the chapter on homosexuality in The Moral Vision of the New Testament. He writes of the fallen human condition:

‘The biblical analysis of the human predicament, most sharply expressed in Pauline theology, offers a subtle account of human bondage to sin. As great-grandchildren of the Enlightenment, we like to think of ourselves as free moral agents, choosing rationally among possible actions, but Scripture unmasks that cheerful illusion and teaches us that we are deeply infected by the tendency to self-deception. As Jeremiah lamented, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately corrupt; who can understand it?" (Jer. 17:9, RSV). Romans 1 depicts humanity in a state of self-affirming confusion: "They became futile in their thinking, and their senseless minds were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools … They know God's decree, that those who practice such things deserve to die - yet they not only do them but applaud others who practice them" (Rom. 1:21-22, 32). Once in a fallen state, we are not free not to sin: we are "slaves of sin" (Rom. 6:17), which distorts our perceptions, overpowers our will, and renders us incapable of obedience (Rom. 7). Redemption (a word that means "being emancipated from slavery") is God's act of liberation, setting us free from the power of sin and placing us within the sphere of God's transforming power for righteousness (Rom. 6:20-22, 8:1-11, cf. 12:1-2).

Thus, the Bible's sober anthropology rejects the apparently commonsense assumption that only freely chosen acts are morally culpable. Quite the reverse: the very nature of sin is that it is not freely chosen. That is what it means to live "in the flesh" in a fallen creation. We are in bondage to sin but still accountable to God's righteous judgment of our actions. In light of this theological anthropology, it cannot be maintained that a homosexual orientation is morally neutral because it is voluntary (p. 390, underline mine).’

Three comments on the underlined sections:

1)     (First two underlined sentences) I think Hays is spot-on in pointing out that many Christians nowadays approach the Bible with modern presuppositions, which are frequently not shared by the biblical authors. It is detrimental to our reading of the Bible and to our living out its truths if we import concepts which are alien to the Bible. The applicability and relevance of the Bible which transcends the limits of culture and time do not diminish its situated-ness in a particular historical context. We need to be wary of constructing theological categories which are not grounded in Scripture.

2)    (Third underline) I think the key phrase is ‘[o]nce in a fallen state.’ The Bible tells us that the sinner is completely under the power of sin. The uninformed Arminian would disregard the bondage of the human will to sin, and conceive of the natural human being as neutral, that is, they have an equal chance of being good or being bad – this easily leads to either Pelagianism or semi-Pelagianism, both of which are heresies. The informed Arminian, however, would affirm with the Calvinist that the human will is in bondage to sin and cannot choose God unless He enables them to do so. The distinguishing factor is that in the Arminian view, the freed will can choose to reject the gospel, that is, God’s saving grace is resistible; whereas for the Calvinist, the freed will cannot reject the gospel – God’s saving grace is irresistible. (Perhaps I will write another post(s) exploring the similarities and differences between the two theological systems.)

3)    (Fourth underline) This is the other implication of free will (cf. para. 2). Thus, some Christians contend that if there is no free will, how can one be genuine responsible for one’s actions? Hays debunks the notion that responsibility - being ‘morally culpable’ - is contingent on free will. Here, however, he does not explain why this is the case. (Perhaps I will explore this issue in another post.) I think what Hays writes here can be used as a critique of the ‘popular’ meaning of free will. In other words, there is no free will, but sinners are still morally accountable to God.

To conclude, we began with the topic of election, then moved to the issue of free will, then to the question of the human condition. I hope the trajectory of this post makes some sense as I attempted to show how these theological issues are interrelated. I acknowledge that these are complex questions, and I definitely need to spend more time thinking about them.

But why is this important? Firstly, this is about growing in our Bible reading; secondly, as Christians, we need to remember who we were. Paul writes in Ephesians 2:1 ‘and you were dead in your trespasses and sins,’ and in 1 Cor. 6:9-11 ‘don’t you know that the unrighteous will not inherit God’s kingdom? […] And some of you used to be like this.’ Nevertheless, in both instances, amazing ‘but’s’ followed ‘but God, who is rich in mercy […]’ (Eph. 2:4); ‘but you were washed […]’ (1 Cor. 6:11). The glory of God’s liberating grace shines ever brighter when we acknowledge the utter darkness of when we were slaves of sin.  

From Solution to Plight

Recently, I have been reading Stephen Westerholm’s Israel’s Law and the Church’s Faith: Paul and His Recent Interpreters. So far, it has been a fascinating read. Firstly, he reviews the recent scholarly debate, and then offers his own thoughts. The chapters in Part Two are: i) Matters of Definition, ii) Justification by Faith, iii) The Law in God’s Scheme, iv) The Law and Christian Behaviour, and v) Paul’s Contribution.

For me, justification by faith and the issue of ‘the Law’ are arguably the most important aspects of Paul’s thought. In other words, how does Paul – a former Jew steeped in Scripture – make sense of how Jesus transforms his reading of the Old Testament? Because surely for Paul, the way he read the Hebrew Scriptures prior to the Damascus road was surely diametrically different from how he later understood, and preached it.

So in our church Bible studies, we are currently studying Paul’s letter to the Romans. It has been great, diving (quite deeply) into this epistle, especially in exploring Paul’s mature thought process. Right, so here’s the connection between Westerholm’s book and Romans that I want to highlight: he suggests that in Paul’s thinking, he begins with Jesus’ death, and then moves logically backwards to diagnose the problem. Hence, from solution to plight.

This formulation is from E. P. Sanders, of whom most Evangelicals (I think) would say is wrong. There is definitely an Evangelical suspicion of the New Perspective on Paul (NPP), but though their suspicion is warranted, I think that dialogue is still important. Anyway, back to my point, when I first read this, I was pretty fascinated, because many of the arguments do make sense.

This is an abstract from Westerholm’s summary of Sanders’ arguments:

“What Paul begins with is the conviction that only belonging to Christ brings salvation. “For Paul, the conviction of a universal solution preceded the conviction of a universal plight” (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 474). If this, as Sanders argues, is the case, then the starting-point of Paul’s thought can hardly be any sense that the effort to keep the law was misdirected. Whatever the criticisms Paul may bring against the law, they all presuppose his faith in Christ” (p. 83).

He makes an important point that the problem of the law is not it led to self-righteousness or legalism, but that it did not lead to the righteousness of faith. (At this point, it is crucial to point out that when I use ‘law,’ I generally mean the moral commandments of the Mosaic code. There is no space here to explain why. The short answer is that, having read Westerholm’s arguments, they sound pretty convincing. His points in a nutshell, Paul’s way of talking about the law emphasises that it is something which demands works, hence, moral injunctions.) This is important because I think many Christians understand Judaism to essentially mean works-salvation. It might be helpful, but that is probably not the opponent that Paul was engaging with. I might be accused of being nit-picky about things, but if our diagnosis of the disease is different from Paul’s diagnosis, then our understanding of the solution Paul presents might be different from what he intended.

NOTE: I do not think it would be radically different, but nuances are very important. Furthermore, is it not the Christian’s duty and desire to better understand our Bibles, to correct misconceptions – however small?

Right, that is a long (but I think necessary) preamble. What I really want to say is that the case for Paul thinking first about the solution, and moving backwards to articulating the human predicament, is a pretty strong one:

“It is certainly true that Paul did not start with a conviction about the hopelessness of the human predicament under sin, then grasp at Christ as the answer to the dilemma. On the other hand, Paul inherited – he did not first posit – the notion that Christ’s death was “for our sins” (the traditional phrase in 1 Cor. 15:3; cf. Rom. 3:25; 4:24-25, etc.); hence, broadly speaking, the solution imposed its own view of the human plight on Paul, and the plight thus defined was no more an option to Paul than was the solution itself. That a conviction of universal sin cannot be independently proven is no reason for thinking it less than fundamental to Paul. Moreover, the conviction itself dictates neither a particular view of the origin of sin nor a precise definition of the nature of its power. Paul’s wrestlings with these latter issues [...] confirms rather than undermines the central place occupied by sin in Paul’s thinking about the human plight. Surely a belief that God’s Son died for the sins of humanity would lead Paul to take human sin with an awesome earnest” (p. 160-1)!

A closing thought. This might mean nothing to anyone who reads this, and that is alright (I hope). But as a Literature student, I am convinced that if we can understand a text better, and it is worth it to do so, then by all means we should attempt it. And I think the Bible ticks both boxes – it probably ticks a lot more boxes! Perhaps on a pastoral level, nothing has changed, sin still logically precedes God’s solution; the slight nuance though, is that our view of how sin relates to law will probably vary. 

God’s sovereignty and Beauty and the Beast

I watched the live action Beauty and the Beast film yesterday. Initially, I thought I would be very disappointed; I am not a Disney fanatic, also, I am not a big fan of romance stories. However, I found the movie quite enjoyable. I must say though, that I think that the overall acting was mediocre – perhaps with the exception of Gaston (played by Luke Evans, who played Bard in Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit) and the singing average. But I definitely enjoyed the score; I thought the arrangements were great, particularly poignant where they needed to be. I really felt like I was being transported into the world of the film just through the music. Nevertheless, I must say that I am no film nor music critic, these are just my personal responses.

But my aim in this post is not so much to talk about the film in general, but about how elements in it help illustrate the doctrines surrounding the sovereignty of God. The context which steered my thoughts towards this direction is that a week ago I attended my student church’s annual Student Conference, and the theme was ‘The Lord Reigns’ taken from Psalm 97. The view of God’s sovereignty taught at this conference unsurprisingly, safely falls under the banner of the Reformed tradition. In other words, God’s sovereignty – His freedom to do whatever He pleases – is the ultimate determining factor for anything that happens in the world. In John Piper’s words, ‘there are no maverick molecules.’ A couple of international students (Singaporeans mostly) disagree with this notion; their objections usually revolve around the issue of evil, and the role of human choice (or ‘free will’) in salvation.

Personally, I have no issue with the compatibilist view (there should be a reference to D. A. Carson here, but I am not sure where exactly. I suspect that he states this in his How Long O Lord.) that God is totally in control, but that human beings are still totally held accountable for our actions. I will admit that there are plenty of philosophical problems with this proposal, but perhaps the philosophical approach is a deficient one. I think that narrative theology is a better heuristic for navigating the issues surrounding this hotly-debated topic. This means that instead of moving away from the Bible into philosophical speculation, it might be more helpful to go into the Bible to see how it holds God’s absolute sovereignty in tension with genuine human choice and responsibility (note that I do not use the phrase ‘free will,’ because the phrase is ill-defined and its usage often leads to further confusion. Also I do not think the Bible teaches it).

Right, that was a long and unexpected preamble, but it sets the scene, and hopefully explains why I think using this version of Beauty and the Beast as an illustration has potential. (There might be spoilers if you have not watched the film; if you have not, what I talk about might not be useful.)  

Issue 1: Someone is in control.

An interesting detail of the plot I noticed was that Maurice (Belle’s father) stumbles upon the castle because a lightning strikes a tree which blocks his path, forcing him to take an alternative route. This might just be coincidence, but later when he tries to lead Gaston to the castle, the tree is back to normal. For me, this suggests that someone is working behind the scenes, allowing or even enabling Maurice to find the castle, but later withholding that ability. This seemingly incidental detail is actually the fulcrum upon which the whole story hinges, and there are definitely hints that someone has ordained incidents to occur in the way they do. One might further add that the rose petals drop dramatically, and suspiciously too quickly with Belle’s appearance. And so the prevailing mood of the story is that of expectancy. I suggest that expectancy is the corollary to someone being shaping events.

Issue 2: Characters make real choices.

Despite this ‘invisible hand,’ the choices the characters make are presented as wholly theirs, in that they bear the responsibility and consequences of their action. There is no recourse to fate or a higher power. Existence is rooted in the everyday decision-making of the characters. It is this real choice to love that drives the focus of the narrative, that we choose to see behind (or beneath) the outward into what is inside. The story is not so much about inner beauty triumphing over external trappings; rather it is about consciously recognising that what we see on the outside is literally only skin-deep.

Synthesis:

The story holds both together. The figure of the enchantress appears at various points of the film, suggesting that events are not as random as they seemed. She is not merely a convenient gap-filler; rather, she quietly, behind-the-scenes arranges events so that they culminate in a happy ending. Nowhere in the film do human choice and the enchantress’ role contradict or erase the other. They certainly conflict, albeit in an implicit, almost unnoticeable manner. This situation is similar to that the picture that the Bible paints of God’s sovereignty working through (or alongside) human choice. Tensions or conflicts exist, but the Bible does not opt for convenient explanations. The genre of narrative allows this silence. It might be unsatisfactory, but I think it is an important element of the Bible.

Issue 3: What about the bad guys?

Gaston, unlike the Beast, is not given a second chance. In the film, he falls to his (assumed) death. I think viewers are meant to see that scene and think to themselves that justice is served. I suspect most viewers would not leave the film saying that it is not fair that he is not given a chance to ‘repent.’ In fact, I think he was given opportunity after opportunity to switch the course of his actions, but he chooses to walk down the path of destruction. I do think that this – however inadequately – captures the biblical depiction of God’s enemies. When they are defeated, we as readers are meant to rejoice that God has triumphed over evil, we are not meant to pity God’s enemies after the sentence has been pronounced and punishment dealt. Before that, yes, we implore people to repent and believe the gospel with genuine compassion. But when judgment comes, God’s enemies will receive their due reward, and God’s people will rejoice at that.

I know that these things can be hard to swallow, and I know that there’s so much more to be said. But what I hope to have done is show how Beauty and the Beast in some way, portrays the biblical picture of God’s sovereignty and human responsibility. Space has not permitted me to delve into Bible passages, knowledge of these have been assumed. Perhaps I will discuss some of those issues in further posts, but for now, I hope this brief reflection has opened some inroads into seeing how narrative theology sometimes ‘explains’ biblical truths in a different, but nevertheless helpful manner for Christians who find this doctrine hard to logically make sense of – the Bible, is after all, a narrative rather than a philosophy textbook.  

Genesis 1:1-2

I was in a dissertation workshop today and what our module convener said there struck me. He said that thinking and writing should never be separated. And I heartily agree, perhaps my inability to think writing has been due to my lack of writing. So I am trying to pick this habit up again. 

Also, in one of my classes, we are translating Genesis 1-9 from Hebrew to English. Our lecturer guides us, and he makes comments about the Bible as we progress. So I thought it might be worthwhile to write out my translation and record some of his insights. 

I know this might be dry for most people, but learning Hebrew has been one of the most exciting things I have done. I am beginning to realise that I like languages and words because there is a peculiar kind of power there - this power is not visually displayed. It of course engages the mind, but I think its true strength lies in its visceral effect. So I would like to invite you on my journey of hearing God speak in Genesis 1-9.

Translation:

(v1) In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

(v2) And the earth was formless/empty and void, and darkness was upon/over the face of the deep [lots of water], while [paratactic] the spirit of God was hovering upon/over the face of the waters.

Notes:

(v1)

There is no definite article in בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית (bereshit), but there are times when words about time are used in a definite sense, but do not have the definite article. (cf. Isa. 46:10; 40:21). Also, the Septuagint (Greek Old Testament which the NT writers referred to) translates 'In the beginning.'

Some would want to take v1 and 2 as the subordinate clause, making 'God said' in v3 the main clause. Their argument hinges on translating בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א (bereshit bara) as 'When God began to create.' This, however, is not supported by the text. People who translate thus seem to want to avoid saying creatio ex nihilo, because in this reading, there was not nothing (therefore something). I suspect they are going a bit too far in pushing their agenda. 

An interesting inter-textual reading (by earlier Jewish and Christian traditions) is to read this verse in light of Proverbs 8:22. There, wisdom is identified with 'the beginning.' Thus, God created with/by wisdom. I think the language is picked up in the NT, for example Col. 1:15-16.

(v2)

תֹ֙הוּ֙  (tohu) - the sense is not chaos but emptiness/nothingness (cf. Deut. 32:10). Thus the picture we see is that there was nothing - only darkness and the waters. (I haven't figured out why there is water - and what that might mean). Also, 'empty and void' is תֹ֙הוּ֙ וָבֹ֔הוּ (tohu vabohu), which has a nice ring to it.