Monday, February 23, 2009

Forgiveness

I was in church the other Sunday when a song began that I had never encountered before. It was a little slow and soft for my personal preference (Someone called me a Quaker once because I can't stay still when I'm worshiping), and most of the lyrics were less than inspiring to me. Suddenly, I sat down, grabbed a pen and started scribbling on the edge of the program. A line from the song had struck me deeply, and I needed to make sure I didn't forget it.

"With You there is forgiveness
and therefore you are feared"

Church history is rife with threats of punishment in Hell, but very few preachers have ever thought to threaten congregations with grace. Tell someone who has done something wrong that they will be punished, and they are not surprised. Simple human logic would indicate that. Every human idea of justice recorded is based on the idea that when someone acts inappropriately, they will be punished for it. What is much harder for people to grasp is that they are actually forgiven. Forgiveness disrupts the normal functioning of our everyday lives. It nullifies the equal and opposite reaction of any action, and we have no idea what to do with that.

Overwhelmingly, humanity is utterly obsessed with order. We want everything to make concrete, logical sense expressed in a format used since ancient Greece. Both the law and the Law fit very nicely into this worldview. When we do something wrong, we suffer the consequences. When we throw a ball, it moves in the direction we released it. When you pull the trigger, a small explosion projects a bullet down the barrel. Sometimes the gun jams, or the shell is bad, or any number of other things go wrong, but what happens when everything is right, and it doesn't fire. You put in a new shell, you replace every component, you buy a new gun and it won't fire. What then? Nothing is out of the ordinary. There is no logical reason for it not to work, and yet it doesn't. I know I would be more than a little confused, perhaps even the term scared would apply.

Does this differ from forgiveness? Is forgiveness more sensible? If we stop thinking forgiveness as some casual arrangement of words which mean you're not going to get a punishment, and start realizing that it is a fundamental violation of everything we have come to expect from reality. That is a much more frightening thing than any version of Hell I could imagine, and yet a sweeter sound I have not heard.

The One... The Only...

Sometimes I'm amused by the questions people come to me with. The other day someone very close to me sent me an email, and the first line of it read "I need you to help me learn to argue." Apparently, a discussion had arisen regarding "why is one religion right out of all the rest?" It's a legitimate question, and while I may not be good at teaching people to argue, I am more than willing to elaborate on my own arguments. Before I begin, I would like to redirect readers to my earlier blog titled "The Theory of Relativity." That blog responds to a number of points, and rather than reiterate I will simply continue where I left off there.
In response to the question at hand, on a purely rational level, there is no way to argue that any particular religion has it right. However, you simultaneously cannot rationally prove that no religious tradition is absolutely correct. Given this dilemma, I feel it meaningful to take the argument down a notch and approach it with a less technical but wholly reasonable human analysis.
Option 1: Religion is Wrong. If there is nothing beyond the scientifically measurable natural world, and strict atheists are correct, then we are in a very scary place. I'm going to leave this topic for another time, but for now I think we can say that if this is true, it will void the question above. For the sake of argument, lets assume that something Divine actually exists.
Option 2: All Religions are Wrong. This is akin to the pluralistic argument that there is no one true religion and so all of them are essentially wrong. Under this model, what is true is that there is something greater than the world, but we have absolutely no idea what it is. As I stated before, formal logic is of no real use in affirming or denying this statement. What I feel are two ways of arguing this are on the grounds of it's worth on human terms, and the implications it holds for society. I personally do not find it a satisfying answer to say that there is something out there, I just can't know anything about it. Less satisfying is the idea that no matter what I think there is no way to share it, or for it to mean anything outside of what I alone think. Religion becomes somewhere between meaningless and divisive, even more than it is now. The greater implications on society are likewise problematic. Religion no longer becomes an institution which teaches self discipline or expects generosity. If we as a culture conclude that any belief is acceptable, then belief is no longer meaningful. In all going our separate ways, we will all end up at the same point: the lowest common denominator, the path of least resistance. Many argue that religion expresses a human need, and yet to me it seems that religion is the most alien possible influence. It tells us to give our last penny to help those in need, to stand with the oppressed against all the powers of government, to rejoice in suffering and to embrace death when it comes.
Option 3: One Religion is (at least essentially) correct. This is perhaps one of the more controversial statements in our day. In making this argument, I feel it is important to indicate what I don't mean. Other religions are not meaningless, nor their adherents deficient or ignorant in any way. However, every religion makes a series of truth claims. If there is an overall common reality which we each participate in, than a true religion would both correlate to that reality, and teach us more about that reality. Given the very distinct truth claims each religion makes, they cannot all be true. Thus, while each may contain certain elements of truth, one of them stands apart from the rest. This provides the most meaningful directions for human life, both individual and communal, aids us in understanding the universe around us, and answers to our deepest needs and desires. As to which religious tradition can claim this spot: that is an argument for another day.

Trapped by Freedom

Not long ago, a friend of mine casually made reference to being "condemned to be free." Curiously, I asked for a more detailed explanation. Making reference to several complex situations which had arisen, she stated something along the lines that she wished "someone would just tell me what to do." It dawned on me at that point just how common of an issue this is. Governments around the world are able to sustain themselves, and often take great authority, purely on the basis that the average person would rather defer to the authority of experts than to make decisions themselves. It is much easier to float down the Mississippi from St. Paul to the Gulf of Mexico than to navigate the oceans and find the way from Europe to India. Freedom, while a word used a lot these days, is a much more complicated subject than we often give it credit for.
History has produced two very different ideas of freedom. The first I will refer to as Freedom From (FF). This type of freedom grants the person the ability to avoid the negative aspects of life (sin, for example). It is a freedom wherein our actions are limited to only those which are good for us, and thus allow us to escape injustice, meaninglessness and suffering. The second type of of freedom is Freedom To (FT). FT allows us to make any decision we wish, no matter what the consequences may be.
Each type of freedom provides benefits and poses problems. Freedom from takes away the things we truly wish to avoid, ensuring that any other option which remains is basically acceptable. People who suffer from chronic or terminal illnesses, are trapped in slavery or prison, or who have some other condition which makes life less than worthwhile at times generally seem to look for FF. A few restrictions are a small trade off for the ability to eschew the horrible conditions they must presently endure. Freedom to is a much better approximation of the American idea of freedom. As thinking people, we can make decisions which best benefit ourselves and others and we must accept the consequences of those choices. How does the government, or anyone else for that matter, know what's best for me? Power has been abused too many times by those in power, and FT is the best way to avoid it.
In the end, these types of freedom are mutually exclusive. FF requires some authority to constrain our actions and ensure we avoid things which will harm us. FT requires that no authority has any real claim over me and thus I can do as I see fit. We as humans are stuck with quite a dilemma. On the one hand, we are endowed with Freedom To do whatever we choose. As a single individual, there is really nothing internal to forcibly restrain me from taking even the most heinous course of action. Yet, we are similarly given a sense of right and wrong, as well as a universe which provides plentiful reasons to not make certain choices.
The Freedom promised by Christianity is an awkward balance between these to. On the one hand, Christians are Free To act against "the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Eph. 6:12) As such, we need not fear any authorities which may constrain us. However, we are simultaneously "slaves to righteousness." (Romans 6:18) This grants us Freedom From hopelessness, fear, and all other conjugates of sin. What Freedom in the Christian sense really seems to be is Freedom To act in the world on the basis of Freedom From sin which we gain through allegiance to God. Christianity demands both. Freedom From without FT leaves a coward who is of no use to the Kingdom, and Freedom To without FF leaves an unrepentent sinner who has no interest in furthering the Kingdom. Our freedom must be complete, or we remain slaves.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Cowards

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day who was Jewish, and out of the blue he stated that "Christians are cowards." I asked if he could elaborate, and he talked about how our faith is motivated out of fear. If we don't do what we're told, we go to Hell, and so we obey out of fear. While I had heard essentially the same argument before in theological tracts, I had never actually heard it stated out loud before, and certainly never so candidly. Unfortunately, we both had commitments which precluded the possibility of an actual conversation on the topic, and so I was left without a chance to defend my position.
The church has been far too focused on the afterlife for far too long. In all honesty, when I go to outreach events or retreats, they seem to be painfully focused on what happens next rather than what happens now. Worse than that, there is a blatant overtone of fear. "All of these terrible things will go away if only you would believe." While I can't deny that through faith comes freedom from a great many things, my friend does seem to have a point. All too often we make God into a miracle drug vending machine so that we can escape our fears as well as our need to act. The gift of Heaven seems to have been turned into a blindfold, barring us from seeing the horrors of this world and removing our responsibilities here and now.
I would like to propose a different way of looking at these same things which have been used to turn Christians into cowards. First, the promise of Heaven is not something which frees us from the responsibilities of Earth. Rather, Heaven is a promise that frees us from being concerned with what happens to us in this life. It is the assurance that the injustice we face in this world is not the way of ultimate reality. Instead, so long as we do what is right, whatever price we pay in this world is irrelevant. Heaven should inspire us, embolden us, and grant us the peace to carry on our battle against the dark forces in this world.
Second, I feel it is wholly appropriate for us to wish to avoid suffering ourselves. The goal, fundamentally, is to make it so that none suffer. In the meantime, however, it makes perfect sense for us to cast off all unnecessary suffering. The suffering which faith purges from us does not build character or surmount challenges. We are letting go of a crippling force in our lives so that we are free to suffer in more productive ways.
Christianity has been undermined by humanity. We are a fearful species, and in Christianity we find the ability to mitigate that fear. It is entirely honest to say that, without a change of heart, without spiritual rebirth, than Christianity is little more than a safety blanket. Christianity is predisposed to seek out those in fear, but the goal is to purify the person, purge the fear, and bring forward the courage of those who belong to the Lord.