A Chistian and A Democrat

Can someone legitimately call themselves a Christian and vote or campaign for Barak Obama? This question was mentioned yesterday in Sunday School, and, though no answer was given, it was asked in a sort of rhetorical manner that showed the underlying assumptions of the person asking the question.

I apologize if you read the title of this post and thought I was going to write some new joke about an unusual group of men walking into a bar or something.

By the way, don't assume anything just yet about my own opinions, just because I started this post of with a mention about Sunday School. These days, there are few other places where people openly discuss deep ideas of spirituality, culture, and (yes, even) political thought in a similar fashion. Perhaps many Sunday School classes are not very open (or deep), but this one happened to be both.

If we seriously ponder the question, and the man, shouldn't it seem strange to us that professing Christians would openly imply that other professing Christians can't conscientiously vote for Obama, himself a professing Christian?

I've also similar derogatory references to the Democratic Party as a whole. "I've never really known anyone," I once heard a friend say, "who was a Christian, and also considered themselves a Democrat."

The people who made those statements would both see themselves as conscientious political thinkers, I am sure. However, from the perspectives of many other listeners, it might be hard to see anything other than a couple of sheltered, upper-middle class, white American males voicing sheltered opinions that only really make sense in their little upper-middle class world.

What is it that makes the Republican Party so Christian, and the Democratic Party so apparently unchristian?

Since the central figure of the Christian faith is Jesus Christ, maybe we would do best to ask what he would do, or say, or in this case, support. A few verses to consider:

Matthew 25:35-36, 40
35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

40"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

Mark 12:28-31
he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"

29 "The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: '...Love the Lord your God with all your heart...' 31The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these."

These two passages were just the first that came to mind; I'm sure I could find more to go along with what I'm about to say.

The least of these. The least of these is generally taken to mean children, or the poor, or someone with some sort of disadvantage in society. It's one of those distinctions that, taken in different ways, could be applied to almost anyone, based on the circumstances. In Matthew 25, Jesus is saying that works of eternal value are those that lift up "the least of these".

Loving your neighbor. The common question that follows is, "Who is my neighbor?" In a similar Bible passage, Jesus replied by telling the story of the Good Samaritan, a story of one man who acted as a neighbor to one unfortunate individual, who happened to also be a member of a rival ethnic group. The "Good Samaritan" man looked out for and supported his unfortunate friend, whom he had found on the side of the road, beaten badly and in need of care. The answer to the question, then, was that the follower of Christ ought to consider everyone as their neighbor, especially when thinking about how to love their neighbors.

Drawing on these principles then, how would we structure society so that these undeniably Christian principles are best upheld? If we would like to see a society that is more favorable toward Christian principles, or in some ways holds Christian principles high, then which policies should we stand for?

Which party line should we tow? Is there a party line that matches these principles?

How about this: Can someone be a Democrat and a Christian, based on these principles? Can someone vote for Barak? You tell me.

My Sickness Unto Death

I'm realizing more and more what a good choice Kierkegaard was for this essay, for it seems more and more that I learn something of myself the more I study Kierkegaard. His inner struggle seems to loosely match my own, as I'm sure he had intentioned for all of his readers. I'm also realizing, in judging whether Kierkegaard was successful in rising above the idioms and systems of his day to communicate something significant, that he might not have 'risen above' in his communication. But such was not his intent; therefore, in wallowing in the endless categories, the dialectic and the struggle, he was showing that the paradigm of his time was not worthy of him - or us, for that matter.

On Nietzsche

Few had as much influence on the twentieth century as did Friedrich Nietzsche; therefore it does not behoove our generation to be ignorant of his teachings. Ignorance will not help us learn from his missteps, or gain insight from his reflection. Nietzsche’s regarded Christianity, as a parasitic religion, denying of life and delighting in the submission of its (stronger) enemies. In his own words, “parasitism [is] the only practice of the church; with its ideal… of ‘holiness,’ draining… all hope for life.” He saw the Christian cross of Jesus Christ as “the mark… for the most subterranean conspiracy that ever existed… against life itself.” Closing out his work The Anti-Christ, he declares, “I condemn Christianity. It is to me the highest of all conceivable corruptions.”

What would give one impetus toward such hostility for Christianity, a creed that unites over 2 billion people worldwide? We can trace Nietzsche’s logic to his exaltation of instinct and natural strength – to Nietzsche, instinct was mankind’s way toward progress, and suppression of instinct was equivalent to suppression of progress, of survival, of all that is truly good. Christianity is the ultimate suppressor of instinct. But Christianity is also a system driven at its very core by contempt for those blessed with strength. Morality and “free will” were concepts created by theologians to make mankind responsible for his actions, and therefore in need of a priest’s guidance. Christianity is a scheme of the weak that subdues the strong. The natural end of saintly devotion, in Nietzsche’s mind, was a eunuch – one who had thrown off all natural passions of this world, all strength and instinct, for the virtue of his God above. “The saint in whom God delights is the ideal eunuch. Life has come to an end where the ‘kingdom of God’ begins.”

Because Nietzsche saw Christian morality as anti-instinct, anti-strength, his conclusion was that Christianity was the death of the human race. But to the Christian in the crowd, I say that we should not simply dismiss such beliefs, thinking, “we must protect our children,” or, “we must protect our minds from such attacks.” I believe that few influential writers have had such insight into true human nature as Nietzsche. Without God, there is nothing else but us. Let us stop imagining that others should respect our morality, our judgment, our way of life. Our system is not one of our own strength, and it is not one of our own logic or merit – therefore it is against the system of logic and strength that we are given naturally.

However, to those who are not Christians, I say that Nietzsche was right – instinct and strength should be the way of the human – and yet he was wrong. For though the human’s way should be to pursue strength and instinct, I would suggest that that way does not go up or forward. Look around yourself and see the news of sorrow everywhere, the endless wars, deaths without reason. Look inside and search for a reason in all these things. Then, tell me, if you can, that man’s true instinct, once unfurled, will lead him toward unfettered progress, and eventually, perfection.

The Sum of Human Wisdom

Alas, the truth of human wisdom is laid forth by Kierkegaard in The Sickness Unto Death.

"The summa summarum [sum total] of all human wisdom is this "golden" (perhaps it is more correct to say "plated") mean: ne quid nimis [nothing too much]. Too little and too much spoil everything. This is bandied about among men as wisdom, is honored with admiration; its exchange rate never fluctuates, and all mankind guarantees its worth. Now and then there is a genius who goes a little way beyond this, and he is called crazy - by sensible people. But Christianity makes an enormous giant stride beyond this ne qui nimis into the absurd; that is where Christianity begins - and offense."

The Greater Hypocrisy

I was writing in my journal Sunday about this topic, and it dawned on me that perhaps there is a greater hypocrisy among those faithful to the church than there is among those cultural Christians that identify themselves with the church but show only marginal conviction. It has become increasingly apparent to me that those truly in the grips of the gospel will want to share their faith - not as something that they do, but as the foremost thing that they do. This means that in raising their children, they are training them to share their faith; in loving their spouse, they are encouraging them to share their faith; in choosing a career, they are choosing the place in which Christ can best use them to expand His kingdom; in attending church, they are learning how to share their faith better; an so on.

But sadly, most people in church on a Sunday morning don't want to share their faith - not as the foremost thing. And so they are faithful to the church, hoping that the church will meet another need of theirs, be it community or importance or truth. They use the church to meet a need that it was not meant to meet. And so they misuse the church. See, when people say that the church is full of hypocrites, they are saying that the church is full of people who, on Sunday, say, "yes - I believe this," but then the rest of the weak say, "I'm not going to believe this stuff enough to change the way I live. It's important, but I just don't care enough." But then the hypocrites I'm talking about say, "I don't really believe this stuff, but I'm going to pretend that I do as long as I can so that I can use this church to get something that I want." I may be misguided, but all the sudden I am thinking that this is the greater hypocrisy, because it is on a much deeper level.

Of course, I'm convicting myself here as the greatest offender. And then there are those who don't do the things they want to do, but do the things they don't want to do, and so on and so forth. I am not sure that this state of agony exhonerates one from the above offense, but even so, it is probably the state of half of the Church today.

Kierkegaard, conquerer of problems past, creator of problems new

From Spark Notes...
The most common explanation of what Kierkegaard is up to is that, unlike the scientists and scholars he criticizes, Kierkegaard is not trying to communicate straightforward facts, but rather to provoke a new state of awareness in his readers. He therefore writes in an circuitous manner that is meant more to provoke reflection than to communicate clear ideas.

So, the thing I sort of knew in the back of my head has been brought to my attention more than once now. Kierkegaard may have been trying to save the world from Hegel and rationalistic philosophy, but in doing so he opened wide the door to post-modernism, and the shots that it takes at his blessed Christian faith. It is obvious that Kierkegaard held the Christian faith close to his heart, but his thinking is obviously in line with the current line, which is increasingly post-modern, and says that truth is only found in our experience. Part of me wants to simply say that, if that's what it takes to produce Christians that follow their Lord with reckless abandon, then so be it. Another part of me desperately wants Christians to be well-taught and theologically certain, but in the end, does the theological certainty actually win any souls?

Notes from Kierkegaard

Thoughts on Kierkegaard's idea of high truth.

God exists. Do you know this as objective truth or as subjective truth? I would have always thought that I was supposed to say that it is objectively true that God exists. After all, that's the good answer - that truth is absolute, is objective, and that subjective, relative, or changing truth is really not truth at all. It is becoming; it is striving; but it is not truth. But in Kierkegaard, there is an argument - the first of its kind that I have heard - that posits the knowledge of God is first of all subjectively true, if it is even true at all. This is the first time I've ever heard an argument for the subjectivity of truth which still holds that God is absolutely real.

Look at Kierkegaard's definition of the highest form of truth:

"Here is ... a definition of truth: An objective uncertainty, held fast through appropriation with the most passionate inwardness, is the truth, the highest truth there is for an existing person. ... [At this point,] objective knowledge is suspended."

Kierkegaard is trying to tell us that we can go ahead with all of our evidential and presuppositional apologetics, trying to tell the world that the incarnation, the resurrection, and therefore our salvation are all as believable as 2+2=4, but if we do so, we are sacrificing a higher truth that is available to us. For 2+2=4 does not light a fire underneath anyone - objective truth does not produce the infinite striving that Kierkegaard defines as part of the "God-relation" - that is, the right way of relating to the truth, which treats any delay in pursuing truth as an evil which must be thrown off.

"...truth is precisely the daring venture of choosing the objective uncertainty with the passion of the infinite. I observe nature in order to find God, and I do indeed seeomnipotence and wisdom, but I also see much that troubles and disturbs. The summa summarum (sum total) of this is an objective uncertainty, but the inwardness is so very great, precisely because it grasps this objective uncertainty with all the passion of the infinite. In a mathematical proposition, for example, the objectivity is given, but therefore its truth is also an indifferent truth."

We can't do it. We can't seriously claim that the incarnation - God's coming to earth as a man and sacrificing his life for us - as an objectively true thing, because, in all rationality, it is an absurdity. It is an absurdity which requires that we have faith in order to hold it as true. If it were objectively verifiable, there would be no need for faith, and there would be no scriptures, for why would God tell man that which he could already figure out through the tools given to him through his creation? But God doesn't have a need to be explained - that would not make him better. That would not add to him. And in fact, attempting to do so fills pews with unexcited Christians who follow Christianity as if it costs them nothing but what they would very easily give.

"But the definition of truth stated above is a paraphrasing of faith. Without risk, no faith. Faith is the contradiction between the infinite passion of inwardness and the objective uncertainty. If I am able to apprefend God objectively, I do not have faith; but because I cannot do this, I must have faith. If I want to keep myself in faith, I must continually see to it that I hold fast the objective uncertainty, see to it that in the objective uncertainty I am 'out on 70,000 fathoms of water' and still have faith."

That's all I have time for right now, but I know there will be more to follow. Good night.

Revival in Atlanta

From a journal entry on 11 February, 2007

Revival in Atlanta - it's never happened - not in a city-wide scope. Why is this? Why, in the capital of the New South, one of the centers of the Old South, and the island of capitalism in the heart of the Bible Belt, has the majority of the population never been moved to faith by the Spirit of God at one time? Maybe this is something that the Spirit has simply not intended to happen - and that would be a fine enough answer, suggicient to answer the question. However, I would also have no problem believing that people have largely not prayed for it, and, worse yet, have not truly seen revival as a possibility in this post-modern time. We have passed the days when a message of repentance would really gain traction with people. We have left behind us the days when people would respond to one, absolute message, no matter what its contect. Are we?

What should I gain?

From a journal entry for 4 February, 2007

What should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart-
His wounds have paid my ransom.

What do I deserve? I, who can't even lift myself up out of the paradigms I am locked into as a member of this age. I, who insist on relating to God on my terms, instead of on His. I know that I have trouble believing in revival, just like the next faithless person who adopts the useless gospel of comfort over passion. Why do I find it hard to believe it in the least? Surely, if the calling from the Lord is a reality, then the obvious outworking of that calling would eventually be a revival, both inside God's people, and in the lost community around them. If this is a great God, then why would I not believe in and pray for revival in my city?

Further thoughts on doing great things

After further consideration, I think that I need to revise my statement in my last post concerning the rarity of great things. I think that, if everyone did something great with their lives, we'd still consider those lives greatly lived. If truth is not relative, and 'great' is tied in some way to truth, then 'great' can't just be relative to everyone else.

On Doing Great Things

I have thought lately that the vast majority of people never undertake great things not because they can't, but because they actually don't want to. There is a basic principle of human interaction - people always do that which they perceive will give them the greatest return. In other words, actions reveal real desires, regardless of what people claim they desire. Regarding the object of desires, in our society, people want comfort over truth. Most desire pleasure over passion. And how do we know this? Because people spend money that they don't have in an attempt to appear better off than the person in the car next to them.

Part of the thing that makes great things great is the fact that they are undertaken by so few. If everyone did something truly great with their lives, before long we'd raise our standards by which we distinguish the great from the mundane. We know that everyone doesn't do something great - in fact, many settle for the truly mundane. We know this because of the great lengths that people go to in order to "find themselves" - and with little success. Many simply assume that life is meant to be lived purusing the hopelessly mundane.

Is this a phenomenon of the post-modern era? Or has this crisis always been part of the human condition? As we escape from eras defined by oppression, perhaps now we are arriving in an era defined by a new type of oppression - the oppression of passion by the material. That is to say that today, lives are increasingly devoid of passion, and instead filled with a shallow quest to maintain the acumulation of material. It has often been said that most things in our society are done because of an obligation to a mortgage.