Lords 'n' Gods.

"'Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is One; and you shall love the Lord your God ...' This is known as the Shema, from the Hebrew word for 'Hear' with which it opens. As so often in Paul, the text he alludes to one minute is the text he will then develop the next minute ...
... "We know, he says, that no idol has any real existence (Galations 4: 8-11), and that there is no God but one. That is Jewish-style monotheism, ranged classically against pagan polytheism ... In contrast, he says, to the many 'gods' and 'lords' of the pagan world, for us, he says, 'there is but one God - the Father, from who are all things and we unto Him - and one Lord - Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and we through him." To feel the full force of this, we need to set it out side by side with the text Paul has in mind:

The Lord Our God One God - the Father ...
The Lord is One One Lord - Jesus Christ ...
(Deut. 6:4) (1 Corinthians 8:6)

--N. T. Wright, in "What Saint Paul Really said: Was Paul of Tarsus the Real Founder of Christianity?"

As is evident by the quote, Wright sees 1 Corinthians 8:6 as a way of demonstrating that Jesus is God, and the Trinity is valid. He pulls from the Shema, with the concept of the Lord our God is One.

The interesting thing about the Corinthians chapter itself is that Paul seems to set up a distinction. He starts out that saying a false god has no existence, and there is only one God. There may be so-called gods, in heaven or on Earth. In fact, there are several 'gods and 'lords,' yet for Christians, there is one God, and one Lord. He doesn't really use the phrase, "the Lord our God."

To pull from some other Bibles:

"Yet for us there is one God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we for Him; and one Lord Jesus Christ, through whom are all things, through whom we live." New King James Version.

"Yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist." English Standard Version.

"But we know that there is only one God, the Father, who created everything, and we live for him. And there is only one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom God made everything and through whom we have been given life." New Living Translation.

"There is only one God the Father, that everything comes from him, and that he wants us to live for him. Also, they say that there is only one Master -- Jesus the Messiah -- and that everything is for his sake, including us." The Message.

None of these verses combine the idea of God with Jesus. They specify that there is one God, one alone -- the Father. This is the God who created everything there is. The Creator Himself. There is also one Lord, Jesus Christ, who/which was the method as to how God created, and how God provides life. While the verses do make sure to show that there is only one of us, there is also a hierarchy set up here. God creates, and the tool is Jesus/the Logos. Jesus isn't made an independent creator, or even on equal standing here. Otherwise, why not just say, "the Lord our God is the Father and Jesus Christ, the one through whom all things came to be?" Or something along those lines. And this would make sense, if Jesus is seen as the incarnante Logos, and in Genesis, God created through speaking. Through words.

Or why not just leave it with there are many gods in the pagan world? Why say gods and lords? The use of the word 'lords' did not always indicate some sort of God. 'Lord' could also stand for Master or Superior in a human sense. Or of something more powerful than humans, but not as powerful as the Hebrew God.


Thoughts?

What we deserve.

I've been involved in a few discussions the past few days, and a common theme was in all of them: we have rebelled, and deserve hell/eternal punishment. In my view, this is the same as saying we don't deserve love, since hell would be the absence of God, and thus love as well. In other contexts, it's that all of creation deserves death.

One of the reasons this view angers me is because I don't see where lines can get drawn between eternal deserts and temporal ones. For instance, if we deserve nothing but hell, then wouldn't that also mean that starving people don't deserve help? Or food? That the Holocaust victims not only deserved to die, but deserved to die in the manner that they did?

That abuse victims in fact deserved to be abused? That rape was deserved? Murder? Hurricane Katrina? I mean, if we deserve nothing but eternal torment, which is pretty much the absolute punishment, wouldn't we in turn deserve the temporal sufferings as well?

Yet, for the most part, I don't see Western civilization acting this way. If a woman is abused, we tell her she doesn't deserve that, and should leave. People are raising awareness in terms of AIDS, poverty, genocide -- and a prevailing idea behind all of that is that such suffering is not only not deserved, but actually deserves our mercy. Our compassion. Our help.

But people can turn around and say that those same people, if they reject Jesus, deserve to suffer eternally? I just don't see how the two can be compatible.

The anger truly stems from the horror I feel behind this idea. If someone feels that we all deserve hell, then how am I suppose to trust that person to respond to the suffering s/he sees on a daily basis? Why would I trust that person to be moved with compassion, to help my family? Or the world?

I'm sure the response to this entails that one feels compassion because one is saved, or one is nudged by God, or responds to such pleas because God rescued them. I don't say that dismissively, but it doesn't remove the intial problem that if you truly, truly think that every single person does not deserve an iota of love ... then why be outraged at evil? Why be so outraged at how unjust the situation is? If a rape victim is told that she brought the rape on herself, how can this be argued against when we deserve something much worse? How can you deserve hell and not deserve rape?

Ye shall know the truth ...

.... and the truth shall make you free. John 8: 32.

I've been contemplating this passage for a while, given how cause-effect its said up. If one knows the truth, one is not free. So in reversing that, if someone is not free, then the person does not know the truth.

One of the concepts behind hell is that its filled with people who willingly went there, as God won't force them to go anywhere against their will. A fellow blogger once explained this mindset as that we all know what the truth is, it's just that a majority of us are willfully and willingly rejecting this truth.

Based on the quote above, is it possible to willfully reject the truth? Knowledge of truth equals freedom, and if someone is free, is there anything left in them to willfully reject the truth?

I think there are ways to superficially know the truth, and really know the truth. The superficial way is like teaching a child to say 2 + 2 =4. They know this is the truth because an adult said it was the truth. But they don't understand the concepts behind taking two things and two things, and making four. They have a superficial knowledge.

The other way is someone who fully understands the concepts behind the math. Now, someone can still willfully reject that, but I'm not sure we could say the person is making a rational choice. If it's not a rational choice, can we still say the person has knowledge of the truth?

Branted, we need context with the John quote. Chapter eight of John starts with the woman caught in adultery, and then gets into the comparison between the Pharisees and Jesus. We have Jesus announcing that he will be going his way, yet the Pharisees will try and follow and not be able to, as they are of this world, and he is not. Yet they also seem confused, as verse 27 says that they don't understand he was speaking of the Father. After Jesus saying that the truth brings freedom, the Pharisees again are shown as not understanding, and that they were never in bondage to any man. Jesus says that whoever commits a sin is the servent of sin, and if the son has made one free, then one is free.

In an interesting note, we have Jesus saying that he knows they are of Abraham's seed, and yet his word has no place in them, as he does what he's seen from his FAther, and they do what they've seen from their Father. They protest that Abraham is their Father, yet Jesus says that if they were Abraham's children, they'd do the works of Abraham. Yet he also just said they are of Abraham's seed.

They are now seeking to kill a man who has told them the truth -- so is Jesus in fact saying that they do know the truth? I'm not sure, because he seems to mean that in just describing what his words are. These are the very words that the Pharisees are not understanding, because they can't "hear" them (vs 43). He then goes and says that Pharisees are the children of the devil, and so follow their father. This very father who was a murderer from the beginning, and cannot speak truth, as "there is no truth in him." He can only speak of his lies, of which he is the father. And so when Jesus says the truth, the Pharisees don't believe him. So the Pharisees are shown as those who believe a lie as the truth, and because they see that as the truth, they in turn don't believe Jesus, as it doesn't match to "the truth." Can we then say that the Pharisees are shown as willfully rejecting what they know to be true?

So I'm not sure we can say that hell is full of people who have willfully rejected the truth, in the sense that they know, completely, it was the truth. Knowledge of truth equates to freedom. If we can really reject the truth, then do we comprehend it in the first place? In a rational fashion?

Tagged.

I was tagged by Mystery of Iniquity. However, I'm going to have to cheat on this, as most questions are limited to one response. And I'm the only person that ever had to be told, by her eye doctor, to stop reading for a month. The doctor couldn't believe she had to say it, but I had to let the the eye muscles relax ...

I wasn't able to do it.

1 - One book that changed your life
Well-done history books. It really brings to life "those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it."

2 - One book that you've read more than once
Too many to count. Anything on my bookshelf, I've read at least three times.

3 - One book you’d want on a desert island
A "book" that was in computer format, connected to an Internet that worked, and would let me connect to the entire library known to the existence of mankind. In English. After all, if I can make the last page in a book go right to the first page in another book on the computer screen, then it can all be considered one book. :)

4 - Two books that made you laugh
The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde.
Most David Eddings books.

5 - One book that made you cry

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. And Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls.

6 - One book that you wish you had written

I'd like to go with the Harry Potter books here, as JK Rowling has an incredible imagination. However, I don't think she's the best writer. She's a great storyteller, has a great grasp of character: but she uses way too many adverbs.

Or To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

7 - One book that you wish had never been written
Any book that picks up where "great works of literature" left off. I'm looking at *you,* all you Jane Austin sequels.

8 - Two books you’re currently reading
The Good Good Pig, by Sy Montgomery
Those Who Save Us, by Jenna Blum

9 - One book you've been meaning to read
Um ... no such thing as just "one." I have at least ten theology books I've been meaning to read, a few science ones, seven books checked out from the library that I must read in the next two weeks, so ... maybe I'll just go with "I mean to read anything I haven't yet read."

Anyone who wants to do this, consider yourself tagged.

Words. Words, words, words.

"Not everyone who calls me "Lord, Lord" will enter the kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do the will of my heavenly Father. When that day comes, many will say to me, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, cast out devils in your name, and in your name perform many miracles?" Then I will tell them to their face, "I never knew you; out of my sight, you and your wicked ways!" Matthew 7: 21-23

I often see the above quote used in two ways, one more common than the other. The common way is often against those who point out the non-Christian behavior of vocally ardent believers, and simply because a person says the right belief structure, it doesn't mean that the person is saved. At some point in time, the person will have Jesus tell him or her that even though the person calls Jesus Lord, the person is not known by Jesus.

The less common way is against those who don't consider themselves Christian, and yet act a lot more "anointed-like" then those who do consider themselves Christian. Simply because a person acts nice or compassionate or merciful doesn't mean that Jesus knows that person, either.

On a whole, though, I find this a rather strange passage, given the list of criteria. You can prophecy, cast out devils, and perform miracles and yet still not enter the kingdom of Heaven. I'm not quite sure how "prophecy" is classified here. My understanding is that valid prophecies can only really come from God. Unless there's some sort of Bible verse that says evil people also deliver correct prophecies? That would just seem a little strange, because prophecies usually involve some sort of punishment occurring to sinful people, or a final strike against sin (such as the birth of Jesus), and why would an evil person, or evil entity, want to make a prophecy like that?

So if we go with the idea that prophecies can only come from God, wouldn't this be a way of identifying those truly following God?

The miracles idea is kind of iffy, just because both good and evil are granted certain abilities in the Bible. Granted, the idea behind everything is that even though evil has powers, good very much trumps evil in the end, and is more powerful. But if going with the idea that a miracle is a supernatural occurrence, then it can go either way in terms of what it proves.

The biggest one that's tripping me up is casting out devils in Jesus' name, especially when comparing that idea to Matthew 12: 22-28. I don't want to type it all out, but I do want to focus on the last part. Jesus has just cast out a devil, and the Pharisees say that Jesus is doing so by the power of Beelzebub. Jesus responds: "Every kingdom divided against itself goes to ruin; and no town, no household that is divided against itself cant stand. And if it is Satan who cats out Satan, Satan is divided against himself; how then can his kingdom stand? And if it is by Beelzebub that I cast out devils, by whom do your own people drive them out?"

I've always read the italicized part as Satan can't drive out devils, because then Satan is working against himself. The only way to truly drive out a devil is due to the power of God. And so if you are driving out a devil, you are doing so specifically according to the will of the Father. This would be one of the "markers" identifying who is truly following Jesus.

Yet the people in Matthew 7 use that as a marker, and Jesus says he never knew them. But how can that be possible, if the only way to drive out the devils is through the power of God? Then Jesus should know the people, because they are actively doing the will of God. Otherwise, why would God grant them the power to drive out the devils?

Right now, the only way I see around the Matthew 7 verse is that what the people did wasn't "valid." They didn't truly prophesy or drive out devils, they only thought they did. Except I think that's applying outside perspectives to the text, because based on the passage alone, the people sound sincere. Jesus doesn't say why he didn't know them (other than the implication that they didn't do the will of the Father. Except the will of the Father is what allows one to drive out devils in the first place, so ... yeah). He doesn't specify that they didn't really do what they claimed they did. I suppose the conclusion could be that the people were lying about what they did, since he called their ways wicked.

I also have difficulty reconciling the Matthew 7 verse to the following: "And these signs shall follow those that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils." Mark 16:17

Based on this, I'm supposed to specifically know those who believe by the fact that they drive out devils. And yet when that claim is used on Jesus, he says he doesn't know them, and their ways were wicked. Which again leads me to the fact that the people were lying

Where there's a will ...

I often see on Christian blogs prayers that someone surrender their will to God, or let God's will be done. I believe it's CS Lewis who said that on judgement day, there will be two sorts of people. One who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "Your will be done." The latter end up in hell.

In a lot of ways, I'm finding this a false dichotomy in that there are only two choices. You can do God's will, or follow your own selfish will. But what if your will matches God's? What if you want the elimination of evil, or justice throughout the world? What if you want to be a better person? What if the wills align?

It's almost like saying you're never going to want anything good on your own, or you can't want anything good independently of God. It's like the only way you want something good is if you actively tell God that His will must be done. If you don't specifically say that or pursue that, you're suddenly selfish? In the parable of the Samaratain, he would've been seen as not following God's will, because he had heretical views. And yet he was the one Jesus praised. His will was seen as opposed to God.

Maybe it's more of anytime the sentence starts with "I want [fill in the black,]" the choices above indicate that it's automatically selfish, because it starts with "I." Not all "I" statements are selfish.

I think a big problem here is that it's almost an unhealthy idea of surrender. If you surrender and only do God's will alone, and let God decide ... where is the person in the equation? Doesn't the identity get swallowed in the will of God? The way I was taught while growing up is that one doesn't look to God to see how sinful you are, or how fallen, or how corrupt one's will is. You look to God to see who you are, because the more you understand God, the more you understand how you were created. You see Who's image you truly are. You see that there shouldn't be competing wills, that they should mirror one another. You get a true sense of your identity.

Under the other idea, I just see a bunch of robots. I really do. I see all identiy of the person swept away, replaced by God and His will. Where's the healing in that?

Of course, this could lead to another post. Wanting your will done is seen as selfish. Yet God having His will done is not selfish. It's the same idea for both, and yet the latter is not selfish, because God cannot be selfish. I find this a relative situation, because it's not dependent on the wanting, but on who is doing the wanting. It's like saying if Person A murders it's bad, but if Person B murders, it's okay. The situation is standard, the players differ. The players determine the morality of the situation. Is that really how we should judge morality?

Thank you, God, for making me better ...

... than 50% of the people out there. Then again, I suppose that would make God a respecter of persons. O:-)

And here was another parable that he told. It was aimed at those who were sure of their goodness and looked down on everyone else. 'Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-gatherer. The Pharisee stood up and prayed thus: "I thank thee, O God, that I am not like the rest of men, greedy, dishonest, adulterous: or, for that matter, like this tax-gatherer. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes on all that I get." But the other kept his distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven, but beat upon his breast, saying, "O God, have mercy on me, sinner that I am." It was this man, I tell you, and not the other, who went home acquitted of his sins. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled; and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." Luke 18: 9-14.

I've been ruminating upon this passage, in connection with my opening sentence. So far in my life, there are instances where I'm thankful that I'm not like other people. That I'm not as arrogant, or that I'm more compassionate, or that I don't judge the way someone else does.

I do think that there are people I'm "better" than, in terms of good behavior. I don't think this in regards to every single good behavior out there. There are some behaviors that I'm horrible at, that other people are better at that I am. That's true of everything. I'm good at math: not everyone is. Other people are good at astrophysics. I can pretty much point out Orion's belt, the Dippers and possibly Cassiopeia.

But I'm not sure I can say the behavior goes against this parable, for a couple reasons. I think the crux of this is a matter of pride: it was aimed at those whose surety in their goodness caused them to look down on everyone else. It was as though they were saying, "Well, at least I'm not as bad as that person," and then went on with their lives, still self-focused.

We can see that in the parable itself. Three qualities are listed: greed, dishonesty and adultery. He doesn't thank God that he gives thousands of dollars to the poor, or feed the poor, or that he pursues justice. He is honest, he doesn't hoard things (whatever that means) and he doesn't cheat in marriage. But he doesn't go out of his way to love his neighbor as himself. Although he may have the "love self" very much under control.

He also points out two good things he does -- fasts, and tithes on whatever he receives. Those actions seem rather easy, as well. He fasts, which is self-focused. He denies himself food, but he doesn't say why. Is it for appearance, or does he honestly feel that it brings him closer to God? He also tithes. However, I'm not sure how tithing works back then. Does that just mean it was money paid to the temple, and the temple decided where the money went? Because that seems like an easy way to donate.

I just have an image of a very satisfied person, patting himself on the back. He found sins that would make him bad, but conveniently looks on the very sins that are easy for him to avoid. He then thanks God that he's not like those people, but he doesn't even thank God for creating him to not be attracted to those sins, or thank God for helping to avoid them. It's almost like the thanking God portion is perfunctory.

Then we have the closing words: whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. The Pharisee was exalting himself at the expense of others. He was prideful in his accomplishments, and bragging about them. Had he been humble, he would've thanked God for his strengths, while still being aware of what needs work, and being aware that it can be too easy to become prideful.

The thing about humility is that it's the opposite of pride. It should make one reflective. But if you know that you are a compassionate person, and go around saying how you aren't compassionate, then that's almost false humility. It looks like you just want people to praise how compassionate you are, that you're trying to get people to feed your ego. Which can be another aspect of pride.

Can you find yourself better at something, and not exalt yourself? Yes. Now, are there times I'm prideful that I'm better than everyone else? Oh, I'm sure. However, I, and I know others, who use those opportunity to say, "Okay, I find that behavior arrogant. Are there times when I'm arrogant like that? Or arrogant in other ways?" They use the situation as a training example, to be on watch for their own behavior. If I'm standing somewhere and thanking God that I'm not like so-and-so, and then I skip home, satisfied with myself, then I'm just bragging. The Pharisee was bragging, and using the sins of others to exalt himself. If I use the behavior of another, and say that I'm a compassionate person so long as I'm %0.0001 more compassionate than he is, then I'm not looking to better myself, I'm looking to justify my current behavior. I'm looking to an excuse to stay the way I am.

Or there are times when I'm just really grateful that I'm not like that. I think we've all had moments like those.