Category: Bible

  • The Golden Compass and Misunderstanding Christianity

    So The Golden Compass (a movie based on the first book of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy) opened yesterday, and there has been a lot of controversy about it. There is an article in this month’s Atlantic Monthly about it (and also an accompanying article online), and also one in this month’s Christianity Today. Matt Barber has also written critically about it in the Examiner.

    Many Christians have been critical of the books because Pullman is an atheist who has told interviewers that his books are about killing God. The gist of the Atlantic articles is that Hollywood, now aware of conservative Christians, has toned down the explicitly atheistic tone in the movie. But some Christians (and I must admit, I’m one of them) are not interested in seeing the movie because they don’t want to see the next two books made into movies, and don’t want to give Pullman any more money or success or encouragement than he already has (You may notice, however, that off to the right-hand side of this page it says that I am reading The Golden Compass. This is true. I checked it out of the library. Because while I am not interested in supporting Pullman, I am not against reading books that are popular both for entertainment and to see why they are popular).

    Some Christians, though (some quoted in the Christianity Today article and others, I am told, which include Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams), have a more positive view of the series. They see in Pullman’s books a criticism of things that should never have become part of Christianity, or are Pullman’s own misunderstandings of Christian doctrine. An example is Pullman’s caricature of the Christian understanding of sexuality, which he talks about in the first Atlantic article:

    This is exactly what happens in the Garden of Eden,” Pullman told me. “They become aware of sexuality, of the power the body has to attract attention from someone else. This is not only natural, but a wonderful thing! To be celebrated! Why the Christian Church has spent 2,000 years condemning this glorious moment, well, that’s a mystery. I want to confront that, I suppose, by telling a story that this so-called original sin is anything but. It’s the thing that makes us fully human.

    It is true that some stripes of Christianity have viewed sexuality as something bad. It might even be true that some stripes of Christianity have equated original sin with sexuality (though I have gone to church all my life, and the first time I ever heard of such a thing was when I was talking with a group of Moonies). But if this is true, it is not because they got this from the Bible.

    The events that Pullman refers to occur in Genesis 3, when the serpent tricks Eve into eating fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, which God had told Adam and Eve not to eat. Eve gave the fruit to Adam and “the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths” (Gen 3:7).

    But the fruit can’t represent sexuality, as Pullman thinks, because sexuality came about before these events occurred: “And God blessed them. And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth’” (1:28). And also, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” (2:24-25). If these two verses don’t refer to pre-sin sexuality, then I would like to know what they DO refer to.

    From reading Genesis, it is hard to believe that sexuality and sin could ever be equated. Yet, sometimes in the history of Christianity, it has been. So I thank God for people like Philip Pullman who criticize ridiculous ideas like this, because they’re not Christian (or Jewish, for that matter). I only wish Pullman knew that.

  • Why I Love Christmas Carols

    Soon (This Sunday) it will be the season of Advent, and it will be time for the church to prepare for Christmas. One of my favorite things about the Advent season (and, let’s be honest, some other seasons as well) is listening to Christmas carols. I am not entirely sure why I love Christmas music so much (especially since I can be picky about the Christian music that I listen to), but one reason might be that it is usually apocalyptic.

    Fra Angelico, 'The Nativity'

    When I say “apocalyptic,” I don’t mean that it has to do with the end of the world (although the Incarnation does inaugurate the “last days” – see especially Heb. 1:1-2, but also Acts 2:17; 2 Peter 3:3; 1 John 2:18). Instead, I’m talking about “apocalypse” in its original sense of “unveiling something hidden.”

    There are a lot of songs that we sing in church that talk about God’s attributes of power and love and holiness, and some songs that talk about the action of God in our hearts through the Holy Spirit, and some songs that talk about God’s action in Jesus’ earthly ministry, but relatively few (that I can think of right now) talk about God breaking into earthly time and space in the way that Christmas carols do. When I hear them or sing them, I think about God invading this wayward planet, with the night sky full of angels to celebrate. I think about the relatively few humans alive at that time (Mary, Joseph, the wise men, the shepherds) who truly knew the importance of what was going on, and how the rest of the world went on about its business. I think about God’s kingdom breaking out into the earth. Here are a few lines from my favorite Christmas songs (see if you can tell which ones they are from):

    1. The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger;
    In all our trials born to be our friend.
    He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger,
    Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!

    2. Still through the cloven skies they come,
    With peaceful wings unfurled;
    And still their heavenly music floats
    O’er all the weary world:
    Above its sad and lowly plains
    They bend on hovering wing,
    And ever o’er its Babel sounds
    The blessed angels sing.

    3. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
    The silent stars go by
    Yet in thy dark streets shineth
    The everlasting Light
    The hopes and fears of all the years
    Are met in thee tonight

    4. Saints before the altar bending,
    Watching long in hope and fear,
    Suddenly the Lord, descending,
    In His temple shall appear:
    Come and worship,
    Come and worship,
    Worship Christ, the newborn King!

    5. Hail the heav’n-born Prince of Peace!
    Hail the Son of Righteousness!
    Light and life to all He brings
    Ris’n with healing in His wings
    Mild He lays His glory by
    Born that man no more may die
    Born to raise the sons of earth
    Born to give them second birth

    And finally, perhaps the most apocalyptic of them all:

    6. Rank on rank the host of heaven
    spreads its vanguard on the way,
    as the Light of light descendeth
    from the realms of endless day,
    that the powers of hell may vanish
    as the darkness clears away.

    At his feet the six-winged seraph,
    cherubim, with sleepless eye,
    veil their faces to the Presence,
    as with ceaseless voice they cry:
    Alleluia, Alleluia,
    Alleluia, Lord Most High!

  • Wolterstorff on Love and Justice

    Last week Wednesday and Thursday, philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff came to Regent to give the Laing Lectures: 3 lectures, 2 days, 1 topic. The topic of his lectures was “Love and Justice.” He was basically answering the question: “Why is it that so many Protestant Christians are uncomfortable with the category of social justice, especially when ‘rights’ language is used?” Most are OK with the idea of retributive justice, and are also OK with talking about justice when it comes to family matters (e.g., abortion), but why the discomfort about social (which Wolterstorff also called “primary”) justice?

    He gave some secondary answers to this question to start the lecture: this kind of justice is usually associated with liberalism, almost all social reform movements in the 20th century used “rights” language, and the popular understanding of “rights” language among these Christians is that it came from Enlightenment individualism, which is bad. But he traced the primary root of this discomfort back to the way that love (agape) has come to be understood by these Christians. The particular understanding of love known as “agapism” was exposited by Barth, Niebuhr, J.H. Yoder, Kierkegaard and others, but especially Anders Nygren. According to Wolterstorff, these men believed agape to be a love that is a form of benevolence. It wishes a person’s good, and is justice-blind and justice-indifferent. It is so strict a form of benevolence that it is not possible to love another person while at the same time seeking your own benefit. Loving someone because you have an attachment to them (they are in your family, or they live nearby) is also not agape. It has no attachments. Kierkegaard said that a recognition of duty is the only thing that can make you love agapically. Other kinds of love, like friendship love and erotic love, fail the test, because they are not done out of duty.

    In the second lecture, Wolterstorff showed that “Nygrenist agape” is not an accurate interpretation of the New Testament use of the word. Nygren opposed the moral vision of the NT to the Old Testament vision of law and justice. Whereas justice has requirements, agape is spontaneous, and therefore they can’t coexist. Nygren believed this, Wolterstorff claimed, because he thought that forgiveness was paradigmatic of all of God’s actions. Since God is not required to forgive, Nygren reasoned, justice (with its ideas of requiredness) is taken completely out of the picture.

    But justice still intrudes on this picture, and in the end the agapist scheme won’t work. Agape which is never motivated by justice will sometimes perpetrate injustice. An example that Wolterstorff gave was of a professor who, out of his love for a student and desire to make him less cocky, decided to give a “B” to an “A” paper. The professor was truly motivated by a desire for the student’s well being, but his agape perpetrated injustice. In an example that hits a bit closer to home, Wolterstorff said that, unlike someone who has a sense of justice, the pure agapist cannot object to torture if it is perpetrated in the name of some greater good.

    Nygren interprets Jesus’ parables in defense of his thesis that we should not be disturbed if agape abets injustice: the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, and the parable of the lost son. But the point of these parables, says Wolterstorff, is not that love trumps injustice, but that we need to re-think what our ideas of justice are.

    In the final lecture, Wolterstorff claims, against Nygren and the agapists, that Jesus nowhere teaches that justice has been supplanted by a different idea of love in the NT. He refers to Jesus’ reading Isaiah 61, to Jesus’ response to John the Baptist asking about his identity, and Matthew’s claim that Jesus came in part to proclaim justice to the Gentiles (12:18). Wolterstorff also made a fascinating excursus into the uses of dikaios and dikaiosune in the NT. In most places they are translated “right” and “righteousness,” but Wolterstorff emphasized that they also have the meaning “just” and “justice.” So for example, in the fourth Beatitude, when Jesus says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for dikaiosune,” it should be translated “justice.” Because who is ever persecuted for righteousness, which is after all only a personal trait? It is those who seek justice who are mocked and insulted by society.

    Wolterstorff then proposes a way forward that emphasizes justice as the recognition of the worth of persons. Justice is nothing more nor less than a respect for worth, which Christians can recognize because of people being made in God’s image. Justice is not, as someone like Reinhold Niebuhr would say, merely a way of mediating conflict.

    He also proposes that we re-think love: it is not only advancing the well-being of the neighbor, but honoring that neighbor’s worth (thus, love includes justice – and we need look no farther than Leviticus 19 to see the close relationship between the two).

    All in all, I thought that Wolterstorff was right-on. And Iain Provan and Patti Towler, who responded to him, thought so as well. In their responses, they generally didn’t say that there was anything wrong with what he said; if anything, they said that he should take it farther (e.g., toward respecting the worth of creation because God made it). As I’ve mentioned briefly in a previous post, the idea of human rights is something that I fully endorse, but I’m skeptical of the Enlightenment individualistic reasons behind the current interest in human rights. The world needs a view of love, justice and human rights that is built on God’s relationship to human beings; if built on anything else it is built on sand.

    Update (June 2, 2008): Wolterstorff’s lectures are available for purchase from Regent Audio here.