A sinner by any other name.

Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person --- though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in the while we were still sinners Christ died for us. Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. But more than that, we even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

Romans 5: 1-12.

In a lot of blogs, I see the claim that while a Christian is saved, the Christian is still a sinner. Or a saint and a sinner. Or will still struggle with the effects of sin, while still being redeemed through the work of Jesus on the cross. Maybe they're a forgiven sinner, or something like that.

But is someone who is saved still supposed to lay claim to the title of sinner? In the Bible paragraph I just quoted, Paul makes a reference of Christ dying for us while we were still sinners. Usually, when someone is phrased "still [fill in the blank,]" it means that the person is no longer that [fill in the blank] at the time of the discussion.

For example: "I had a red car when I was still married."

"I had a lot of friends when I was still happy."

"Jesus died for me while I was still weak."

"Jesus died for me when I was still an enemy of God." -- and this example I find key. I would say that any Christian would claim that s/he is no longer the enemy of God, as s/he has been saved through what Jesus did. The unsaved are still enemies of God. Yet the Christian would claim to still be a sinner in some fashion? Based on the Bible paragraph, Paul comes across as inferring that the Christians are no longer enemies of God. He's also inferring that Christians are no longer weak. So in using the same language style, isn't he also inferring that Christians are no longer sinners?

On a different note, I read in a blog that someone used Romans 5: 8-9 to support the claim that God loves us and God proved this love by -- through Christ -- punishing Himself for everyone's sin so that no one would have to be punished. The applicable passages are in bold.

A couple problems I have with that idea. First, given all twelve verses, Paul is setting up a definite difference between God and Christ. The God one has peace with is different than the Jesus who provides that peace. The God views people as enemies is the God that Jesus reconciles those enemies to. The God that Paul boasts of boasting of through the Lord Jesus Christ. The God who has the wrath is the God whose wrath averted through the Jesus who is saving people. The only possible way the two are combined is in verse eight with God proving His love while Christ dies while people are still sinners. But based on the other verses, it makes more sense to conflate the idea of God's love with God providing His one and only Son.

Second, where in this verse does it say Christ is punished in the place of sinners? It says that Christ died for people while they were still sinners, and his blood justifies people so that they are saved from the wrath of God. It doesn't say how the blood saves, and it makes no clear claims of Jesus being punished for anything. Nor does it even make the death part be the end, since a later verse says that Christians will be saved "much more surely" by the life of Jesus.

Windows Vista is the Operating System of my Better Nature.

So here's a thought that hit me a few days back --

I think we've all heard the idea of appealing to someone's better nature, in order to accomplish something good. And there's a certain branch of Christianity that holds the idea that humanity essentially has no better nature, and anything good one does comes from God, and anything bad comes from the individual person. The only thing you're responsible for is the bad things. You have no control, no input, and nothing to do with the good things (which, in a way, almost makes the good things impersonal, because if it all comes from God, couldn't the good things come from anyone? Whereas the bad things are a result of the person's personality. Some people might steal, whereas other might murder).

Anyway, for people who believe that ... do they have a better nature to appeal to? After all, their better nature is a result of God, and not having any connection to their personality. So in appealing to their personality, wouldn't someone just be appealing to God? If so, why not cut out the middle man/the vessel and go to God directly?

God stole my third dimension.

On occasion, I'll listen to Christian music. And I'm wondering how much of it provides an insight into how Christians view a non-Christian life, and thus who are non-Christians. Are the lyrics merely hyperbole, or is there an element of 'this is what the outside looks like?'

I used to think that me, myself, and I were all that mattered

Alive, by Rebecca St. James.

The song here is basically about how God makes the person come alive (perhaps you gleaned that from the title itself). But my understanding is that Rebecca St. James became a Christian at a rather young age, and so I would doubt she'd have much non-Christian personal experience to draw upon. So in looking at this, does she truly think that those who are non-Christians think that they are the only people who matter? That they behave in that two-dimensional, selfish way? Not only that, but I've heard her introduce this song as "This is about how God makes us come alive!" So I'd say the song is meant to include more than just one person.

Shine on me with Your light/Without You I'm a cold dark stone

You are the Sun, by Sara Groves.

And while the singer here is singing from first-person ... does this mean then that all non-Christians are considered "cold dark stones?"

The only thing that isn't meaningless to me/is Jesus Christ and the way he set me free.

Conversations, by Sara Groves.

The ironic thing about this song is that it's written as an attempt by a Christian to explain to a non-Christian about how Christianity is helpful. Yet, if I take this verse extremely literally, then as the non-Christian isn't Jesus Christ, the non-Christian holds no importance to the Christian.

And even if I don't go to the extreme methods in literalness, I still find elements in it to be disturbed. To make one thing matter to the exclusion of all else can be dangerous to those around you. It's what we see in people who believe Jesus is returning any second now, and so why bother caring for the environment? It's not like we'll be needing one in the future. Or perhaps someone who is so pro-environment that it doesn't matter what happened to a group of people so long as a tree was saved. Or I just read that PETA is using the Tiller murder to promote vegetarianism with signs like "Pro-Life? Go Vegetarianism," and "Pro-Choice? Choose Vegetarianism."

Things like this are a huge roadblock for ever wanting to become a conservative Christian. As much as they can say that it makes them more compassionate, more loving people, I don't like how it almost forces them to view the non-Christians. There's no longer nuances, those shades of gray. People become these two-dimensional paper dolls. You're either alive in God, or solely self-focused. You either have God's light, or you're a cold dark stone.

Quiver Me Timbers.

I was feeling pretty good about life, and so decided to fix by that by reading Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement,' by Kathryn Joyce. That knocked me into a depression in no time. I would say something along the lines of I should feel fortunate that it's just a fringe movement in the conservative Christian circles, but the book is pointing out that some of the more mainstream conservative Christians are making noise about how women should have more children, and using birth control is denying God's authority over your body.

Two things of interest: One, there's a mentality in the book about a "one of ours," and it's about how contraception is bad. To quote, a Quiverfull version of "He's one of ours": selectively appropriating historical figures who were the later-born children of their families to create a canon of the Waster world's six-, seventh-, or eight-born geniuses and greats. The moral is that the "contraceptive mentality" would have precluded the births of Washington, Mozart, Beethoven, and, by implication, possibly a savior."

The basic idea seems to be that if women use contraception, there will be a whole lot of necessary people no longer born. Now, I don't know if the implication in the quote is the author's interpretation, or if it's something Quiverfull people actually hinted at, but ... Jesus was the result conceived in the womb of a virgin. God didn't even use sex in the first place to create Jesus, so how could contraception have interfered with that in the first place? No only that, but my understanding is that conservative non-Calvinist Christians feel that people both have free will, and that God is in control, and has a plan, and is sovereign. So if God's plan involved Mozart being born, wouldn't God have seen that through, regardless if the woman was using contraception or not? Are they seriously suggesting that a hormonal pill is enough to stop an omnipotent God?

Then there's how this works in reverse -- perhaps we wouldn't have Mozart. But I believe Mozart considered his elder sister to be just as talented, if not more talented, than he was. Yet we don't know anything about her, because she was a woman, and only had two proper roles in society: wife and mother. How many geniuses have we lost in society because women had no rights, and were only expected to marry and produce children? How many geniuses have we lost because women couldn't have any control over their reproduction?

Second, one of the themes in the book is basically raising an army for God. Because these women are having anywhere from ten to eighteen children, they'll be able to take back society in a few generations, because they're rapidly out-breeding the non-Christians. The assumption on the Quiverfulls is that the children will be that type of Christian by default.

Doesn't that kind of conflict with the free will idea? One of the standard responses to why there's evil in the world, or why people will go to hell is that God loved us so much that He allows us to choose whether or not to follow Him. Yet these parents aren't saying that they'll give their children a choice in following God, they're raising their children to absolutely guarantee that the children will follow God. When the children reach the age of accountability, is anyone going to be surprised by their choice? Can we even say that they freely choose God, when no other option would've been presented?

Now, I can understand why these parents are doing this. Most parents do raise their children in the path they feel is morally right -- if a Christian feels that atheism is wrong, the Christian is not going to encourage his/her child to be an atheist. They would probably even say it would be extremely unloving of them to raise a child to be anything less than a Christian, considering the consequences of not being one. But in a way, are they respecting their child less than God is?

I just suddenly have this weird picture of all these people who were raised and accepted Christ as their Savior, suddenly faced with a God who tells them they aren't saved, because they didn't freely make the choice. Their parents made the choice for them based on their upbringing.

I'm also unsure how the Quiverfulls approach the concept of free will. There was a definite Calvinist/Reformed Theology trend in the book.

How far do you trust God?

Do you trust that God will always provide food? And yet millions starve to death.

Do you trust that God will always provide shelter? And yet millions have none.

Do you trust that God will always keep you safe? And yet millions of those who practice religion are murdered.

Do you trust that God will always keep your child healthy and alive? And yet many of those who practice religion lose their children.

I could keep going with examples, but that would be a waste of space.

I often see people proclaiming how they trust God, and how God will always be there for the, and God will always be a present source of help in times of trouble. And yet, that source of help and trust come down to a very vague concept of God being by one's side. I'm reminded of a scene in the book "The Shack" where the father asks God where God was when his daughter was abducted and murdered. God said that He was with the daughter the whole time.

Yet the daughter still ended up murdered.

I can understand how the idea of this total loving source being by one's side, offering peace and comfort. But it seems when it comes down to concrete examples -- in trusting that God will offer something with substance such as food or safety -- no one can claim that as a guarantee. Yes, people can point to examples where God provided such things. But every example, there's an example of nothing be provided at all. So no one can promise that God will provide health or anything for basic survival.

Perhaps someone can come back and say that they can trust that a good outcome will prevail, and that everything will turn out well for those who trust in God. But even this becomes vague in its way, because what does that mean? Someone can point to the murder of a child and say it will work out for good in the end. But then what's being trusted is some sort of vague concept of good -- nothing concrete.

God is so good, He burned my house down!

Nothing's actually happened to my house. My house is fine.

But I've been thinking lately about all those news stories, when people were saved from disaster, or had something go their way, and they say, "God is good!"

Now, let's say I was accused of cheating on a test. I get called before the principal. After he examines all the facts, he concludes that I did not in fact cheat. I then say that the principal is a good man.

My statement about how good the principal is is directly dependent upon him judging in my favor. The two are connected. If he were to say that I did cheat and then punish me for it, when I did not in fact cheat, I would conclude that the principal is not good.

God is often treated in the same manner when people are praising Him for a wonderful outcome. He is good because He made a good thing happen. Yet if something bad happens, we never see believers then conclude that God is bad. Rather, He's mysterious, or His ways aren't our ways. In this situation, God's goodness is a simple matter of fact, independent of the outcome.

But when this is the case, does it mean anything to praise God when good things happen? God's not good because He did a good thing. He's good, period. I almost find it a useless means of praise, because it's just a blanket statement.

Unless the saying is there to re-enforce just how good God is? Except I still think we'd run into the same problem, if a good event is used as a reminder to just how good God is. Because God's goodness is once again dependent upon the event, rather than the nature of God.

Try out the sliding-sin scale today!

I see in a lot of places the idea that God doesn't really measure "levels" of sin. All sin is equal in the eyes of God, whether it be stealing a candy bar or wiping out an entire country. Both crimes get the maximum sentence, which is death/hell/a combination of the two/something else not all that pleasant. There isn't really a sense of a punishment that is proportionate to the crime. Rather, all crimes are equally bad.

Very often, the idea that all crimes equal the same maximum punishment is seen as okay, and a just thing, and who are we to question God?

I touched on this in the comments of my last post, but if that principle -- all crimes are equal -- are applied to actual people, would we really enjoy being around those types of people?

Then let's try applying that to a society. Say we lived in a country where capital punishment was given to those who stole candy bars. Capital punishment was given to those who committed adultery. And capital punishment was given to serial killers.

And that's just with actions we all agree are crimes (though the second one falls under a moral crime). What about someone who says something unkind to another person, and capital punishment is also applied there. Or someone who hates another, and thus must also be put to death. Or one of the favorite scenarios I see Kirk Cameron using -- if you've ever told a lie, you've broken one of the Ten Commandments, and thus deserve to go to hell.

Would anyone find that type of society just? Or compassionate? Or merciful? Instead, wouldn't we find that society to be on the tyrannical side? A society that gives no leeway for the imperfections of human nature?

Under no circumstances would anyone call that society good. We would say that living in that manner would be perhaps tantamount to torture, because everyone would be so worried about being imperfect that they'd never just be allowed to live.

The workarounds I see for this are that I can't judge God by man's reasoning, I must use God's reasoning. The problem is that as soon as God is described as good, or just, we need some way of defining those words. Otherwise, any description of God becomes meaningless.

Another workaround for this could be that we have to make allowances for the sinful nature of man. Since we know that no one is going to behave perfectly, we must have a society that operates in that fashion, so that people are constantly getting killed through capital punishment. If that were the case, then we wouldn't have a society left.

But isn't the fact that we're making allowances for the imperfection of man admitting that a law structure demanding perfection isn't just? That it's almost borderline cruel? If we're applying a standard of justice to this, then a society should organize its laws to require perfection regardless of how sinful said subjects of the society are.