A Matter of Life and (Un)Death

As I've noted before, vampirism is a tricky plot device, and the modern tendency to extend cheap grace to all and sundry makes it worse. The usual way out is to have a creature that is merely vampiric without being an actual vampire(see the first link again). The "Twilight" series goes beyond that by trying to redeem vampires.

It doesn't work. The main theological problem is that vampirism involves drinking blood, which is always under a curse. Leviticus 17: 12–14 mentions this, and it’s echoed for Christians in Acts 15: 20, 29. The point is that the blood of a creature (human or not) represents its life, so drinking its blood means appropriating its life, which is how vampires work. It’s also a parody of the Atonement, because just as we live eternally by spiritually partaking of Christ’s blood and life, so the vampire prolongs its existence by partaking of a creature’s life. This is true even when the blood is taken from an animal: the idea of "good" vampires using rodents instead of people doesn't eliminate the problem.

Yet the unique idea of the "Twilight" series is that the change is effectively good, or anyway not evil. Instead of "Choose life" we have "Choose (un)death." Considering how confused zand outright persverse our culture is concerning abortion and euthanasia, such an attempt to make death a positive shouldn't come as a surprise.

And there is a point of theological interest in putting a spiritual or allegorical spin on vampirism. Early Christians were considered vampiric because they drank the blood of Christ in their rituals.

But that's the rub: Christian "vampires" would be a eucharistic crowd; they would subsist on the only blood freely given for that purpose. And while Christian theology stresses dying yet living, it won't fit well in the undeath category. We are not less alive than before; we are overflowing with the life of God Himself.

In fact, it would be nearer true to say that we are all vampires by birth, lacking life and trying to suck it from things around us that can never truly fill or cure the void. It is only in Christ that we find sufficient life to do the job, restoring us to true life from our twilight of undeath.

Another Status Report

In case anyone wonders why my posting has been so sporadic lately, there are several reasons. One on-going problem is that I'm using Gmail now, so I can no longer blog and check mail at the same time. Since checking mail is a bit more important to me, I'm not quite as apt to spend time blogging. I used to pre-write my posts, and I still prefer to do so, but it's harder to fit into my current schedule.

Anyway, I've also been dealing with some theological issues lately, and I'm not sure whether to post about them here. I try to stick with what I call "basic Christianity"--not to be confused with "Mere Christianity," which is the body of doctrines held by most Christians at most times. Basic Christianity has to do with points of agreement among the various Christian confessions. There are more of them than you might think, and they tend to be the fundamental truths of the faith, unlike the denomination-specific ideas that we tend to idolize. Mere Christianity includes some non-basic doctrines that might actually be incorrect, though not dangerously so. Basic Christianity does not.

Yet the topics I've been considering aren't in this basic group, so they are more controversial. As my tagline indicates, I have investigated Christianity beyond the confines of the views I was raised with, and I am in the odd position of being strongly ecumenical (I accept the validity of all the historic Christian groups, Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant in particular) yet without a home: theologically I'm very close to Orthodox, but on a few grounds I don't believe I could ever become Orthodox. Catholicism wouldn't be a good fit either. Anglicanism and Methodism are possibilities, though both have theologically liberal tendencies. (There are exceptions, however.) I'm tempted to post about all that, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.

Anyway, I need to get back to Dark World; I hadn't intended so long a break. God helping me, I'll try to get back to regular posting.

Do-It-Yourself Communion

I encountered something distinctly troubling Sunday: news of a church that, in an attempt to accommodate those whose background involves receiving the Lord's Supper (or Communion or the Eucharist, whatever you want to call it) every week, would soon feature a place where anyone so inclined could take Communion solo without bothering anyone else.

No muss, no fuss.

No concept of sacrilege, either.

Shouldn't this be an obviously bad idea? It's called "Communion" by some at least, and the communion is not just with God but with our brothers and sisters in the Lord, even those not blessed to be in our church or denomination. Yet it is the people next to us in the pew or the line who are the most evident reminders of what it's about. Paul told the Corinthians not to go at their own pace but to wait for the others:

"When you come together, it is not the Lord's Supper you eat,
for as you eat, each of you goes ahead without waiting for anybody else." (1 Cor 11:20-21a)

"So then, my brothers, when you come together to eat, wait for each other." (1 Cor 11:33)

If there are people around you and you have your own private service, so to speak, isn't that wrong? (Sometimes you simply are alone, but that's a different matter.)

Beyond this, there is a great casualness about what is supposed to be a holy thing. This should be a solemn moment, but it's reduced to the convenience of a drive-through window at McDonald's. We have lost such sacredness as remains for non-liturgical Protestants, and even the liturgical set have their frivolous group.

Now, what makes this morbidly hilarious is that the some of the very people promoting this idea have been making a lot of noise about doctrinal purity and the fundamentals of the faith.

About the only upside here is that Satan may be incapacitated with laughter.

So, what to do other than gripe? Pray. I'm afraid these people wouldn't listen to an opposing view, probably even from God, but prayer is the only answer.

For the rest of you, as you receive communion next time--surrounded by your brothers and sisters and connected backwards in time all the way to the upper room where they first heard, "This is my body"; sideways to people receiving communion at the same time, even if elsewhere; and forward to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb of which this is the foretaste--pray for these people who have sacrificed the inconvenient glory of community for the convenient desolation of isolation, cut off from the Body and dishonoring the Head.

Lord, have mercy on us all.

Humility 2: Follow Your Nose?

I said last time that the common view of humility is false: humility does not deny itself, and it does not decrease our self-knowledge so we only have humility when we don't realize it. So what is real humility, and how does it work?

I'll tell you a secret: I can see my nose.

Not the whole thing, of course, but most of it. And I doubt I'm especially blessed in this regard. You don't need a long or large nose to see it. And all going well, you can see past the end of your nose, which is like seeing the forest for the trees.

So what?

Simply this: again, no doubt like you, I am humble about my nose. Some people may be obsessed with the protuberance, thinking it either beautiful or ugly, but most of us probably don't think much about it.

That's the point.

I can go for amazingly long periods without noticing the thing, usually because I'm looking at something else--words on a page, vehicles on the road, and so forth. But it's there, and I know it. I can shift my attention to or from it at will.

That's humility. I've had a few moments when I realized, to my surprise, that I was being humble. Now, I often ruined it by wanting to advertise the fact. But sometimes I would just think, "Huh. That's interesting." Then I returned to the matter at hand.

If you are humble, you do not lack self-knowledge but self-absorption. A humble person can be aware of his own humility without feeling any urge to publicize it. "Look at me--I'm humble!" is wrong not because of the last clause but because of the first. A humble Christian will always say, "Look at Jesus!"

But then, a humble Christian will always be looking at Jesus, not at his own nose.

Humility 1: False Humility

I recently heard a gentleman talking about humility. He mentioned asking people at a retreat whether they were humble. Some sucker bit and raised her hand--Ha! She isn't humble, or she wouldn't raise her hand!

How droll!

How totally, almost damnably false.

This peculiar view of humility is common, unfortunately: it is the Virtue That Dare Not Speak Its Name. The first (and perhaps still the only) writer I've seen get this right is C. S. Lewis. Unfortunately, many of his "fans" have never read his writings. Pity, that.

Anyway--it doesn't take much examination to locate the problem. Suppose there is a truly humble person. You ask him, "Are you humble?" What does he--can he--answer?

1. If he says "Yes," we automatically dismiss his claim: it's a trick question for which an affirmative answer is impossible even though we have already stipulated that it would be true. That is, we have excluded truth as a possibility.

2. If he says, "No," then he is at best mistaken or deluded and at worst lying. So the only answer we will accept is a mistake, a delusion, or an outright lie. And this is a virtue?

Note that real virtues do not cost us self-knowledge: it's the vices that numb us to reality. That's why we like them. We drink to forget, in other words, though we get drunk on Pride, Wrath, Lust, and so forth. If we concentrate on vices, they will blind us to the guy on the cross and to the same guy not in the tomb but enthroned at his Father's right hand. If you fight vices and exercise virtue, you'll know as much about yourself as your friends and enemies do.

So the fact that this so-called humility at best calls for loss of self-knowledge tells us that it's really a vice. Its patron sinner is of course Uriah Heep.

Someone will probably claim that my thought experiment assumes an impossibility: no one is truly humble. Untrue: at least One was truly humble--and he said so in Matt 11:29! So by the usual reasoning, Jesus himself was guilty of the sin of pride, which would interfere with his being our Savior. Drat.

Next time, I'll explain what real humility is, and why it's as plain as the nose on your face.

Sciolism, Scientism, and Theology

So what does it matter if people go off half-cocked? We've been making decisions based on incomplete and faulty information since the Garden of Eden, which I guess helps answer the question. But now, in addition to mere ignorance parading as knowledge, we add the tendency toward a falsely scientific view of life.

I noticed some time ago that in Christian circles (especially Fundamentalist Protestant ones, but you can easily find it elsewhere) there was a tendency to reduce everything to a formula. Most of the supposedly non-fiction books in a Christian bookstore have a formula for success, effective prayer, weight loss, or whatever else. Even theologically we tend toward formulas, though that's been around for centuries.

It's curious that the Bible is low on formulas. About the closest you get is in the Law, and even it isn't truly formulaic. But the formula mindset can be found quite easily: it's the attempt to reduce God and our interactions with him to scripts. Push the right buttons, and you get what you want.

It should be obvious that this is magic: an attempt to manipulate God into doing our will. But there's more to it than that--something even more damnable. Not only is it an attempt to get our own way and assert our will over God's, it also implies rejecting grace.

Earning your own salvation is thoroughly formula-based: do the right works, and you are saved. From the standpoint of scientism, earning your salvation is a good idea, because there's a clear cause-effect relationship. Good deeds eventually outweigh bad ones, so you just keep going until you're saved.

But what of grace? Grace is a miracle: it upsets the cause-effect chain, saying that bad deeds may simply be forgiven, and without our somehow earning that forgiveness. Is it any wonder that when Creation Science writers wander into theology they tend to reduce it to simplistic formulas?

They also like to sanitize messy people: Noah didn't mean to get drunk; in the antediluvian world, grape juice didn't ferment. They have quite a long presentation with the sole point of getting Noah off the hook. But why? Why not just admit that he was yet another sinner and goofed up? (For that matter, why make drinking wine a sin? It isn't one in the Bible.)

The annoyingly obvious answer is that they don't really believe in grace. They believe in excuses, even far-fetched ones, to avoid admitting that God used and blessed a sinner. Admitting it would violate the tidy cause-effect sequence and acknowledge a miracle—which the Creation Science people are no more eager to do than atheists.

God does miracles; get over it. And salvation is a walk, not a formula.

Scientific Sciolism

Oh, look it up.

I talked about syncretism last time, and I don't think anyone can deny that at least in the West, having "science" on one's side pretty much guarantees intellectual respectability and superiority. This is why most of the global warming debate hinges on who is actually scientific, the believers or deniers, and why some people think they must have a scientific basis for accepting Genesis. Not having a scientific basis for one's views is intellectually untenable.

But together with this deification of "science" (often misunderstood and incorrectly identified) we have normal human sciolism: the tendency to think we know it all (or at least enough to pontificate) based on only a shallow acquaintance with a topic. So in the global warming debate we see people on both sides who are merely parroting arguments and putative facts they agree with but probably don't understand. I was amazed and impressed a while back when a columnist for a local newspaper admitted that he hadn't done enough research on the topic to have a worthwhile opinion--and he also claimed that such research would amount to setting aside a few years to master the topic. Reading a few blogs and newspaper articles isn't enough.

Years ago, there was a man named Immanuel Velikovsky who tried to explain various historical and legendary events (including some from the Exodus) by invoking a kind of celestial pinball game in which the earth got nailed a few times. Back in the sixties and seventies there was a noticeable Velikovskyist contingent in the Creation Science ranks, because he believed in catastrophism and was ostracized from mainline scientific circles, much like the Creation Science crowd itself.

But the interesting point is that Velikovsky was a psychiatrist, not a physicist, astronomer, biologist, or archeologist: he was pontificating well outside his field of competence, and doing so quite convincingly. An astronomer and a biologist read Worlds in Collision and came to opposite conclusions: the astronomer thought the astronomy was nonsense but the biochemistry brilliant, while the biologist laughed at the biochemistry but found the astronomy impressive.

Sciolism times three: an author who was out of his depth yet persuasive, and two men who were safe from the hoax in their respective areas of expertise but gullible elsewhere. If you've ever read Martin Gardner's Fads and Fallacies in the Name of Science, you get the impression that there were few pseudoscientific scams of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries that did not snooker at least one of the Huxleys--a very intelligent and well-educated group. But they, too, were willing to gamble on their sometimes shallow knowledge--and sometimes they lost.

The relevant moral here involves a point I've made before concerning what I call "scientific apologetics": we read a book (or several) making a number of scientific claims we haven't the background to appraise intelligently and feel that we understand more about the topic than those who do have the requisite background.

This is why I largely ignore the putative science of Creation Science: I don't have the background required to assess it. In the same way, evolution is a sprawling concern, touching a number of different fields. I strongly doubt anyone knows enough about it to understand it and assess it, pro or con. I certainly don't. I can, however, comment on the philosophical and theological implications of Creation Science, just as I can spot an evolutionist with a scientific background going outside his field to pontificate on theology or philosophy.

Avoid sciolists lest you become one yourself.

I'll conclude this series next time with a post about how sciolism and scientism combine to corrupt popular theology.

Science, Faith, and Syncretism

Syncretism means mixing belief systems. In the Old Testament we read of people worshipping both God and Baal, for example. These days we do much the same thing, only the other "god" is usually Money, Popularity, Respectability, or something like that. The idea I mentioned last time, that there must be a scientific explanation to support Genesis, is such a case. Unless God jumps through the hoop of our personal expectations, we just won't believe in him.

So there!

I still don't see why Creation is any different from the Virgin Birth or the Resurrection, neither of which gets the imprimatur of science. If God wants to commit a miracle now and then, we can either rely on him to be telling the truth or rely on our amazing fallen minds to find an alternative explanation. This is the major reason I consider Creation Science dangerous on theological grounds: since the goal is to find a cause-and-effect sequence to explain miracles, it tends to deny or minimize miracles on the one hand and support a mechanistic view of God on the other.

Case in point: the Flood. In order to explain where all the water came from, proponents of Creation Science usually conjure up a vapor canopy nowhere attested in scripture and have the earth's crust upthrust, downthrust, and sidewaysthrust without ever generating a really good dance step. I, on the other hand, just figure that if God wants enough water to flood the whole planet, he can just call it into existence. It's called a miracle, and no, I can't make a science out of it.

So what if the science happens to be right anyway--what if God used a vapor canopy without mentioning it? Occam's razor, friend: the vapor-canopy explanation is complex; a miracle is simple. Nor is that always true: quite often positing a miracle is a needless complication. Just not here.

This need for an acceptable mechanism leads in worse directions, though. For example, it is Law-oriented rather than Grace-oriented. Earning your salvation by good works is simple cause and effect; it's a kind of science. Accepting salvation by faith that has been granted by grace is miraculous thinking: it's simply not good cause and effect, because it doesn't provide a good way to manipulate God.

C. S. Lewis talked about this in The Abolition Of Man: science and magic tend to be different ways of gaining power over nature (and thus God) by reducing it to rules you can manipulate. This is the reason the Creation Science crowd doesn't like miracles (beyond the fact they aren't acceptable to the scientific establishment): miracles confer no manipulative power. We can't use them to get what we want; we can't make them happen whenever we feel like it.

That's also why I don't really care about the scientific claims of Creation Science: if they were presented with proper rigor, I couldn't understand them, much less judge their validity, but if they are presented in a looser, more popular style, even a scientist in relevant field couldn't assess the data. So I stick with the theological ramifications--a topic friends and enemies both seem to ignore.

Next up: sciolism.

Science, Faith, and Miracles

I'm currently involved in yet another vigorous exchange of views with a friend who apparently has no choice other than Creation Science on the one hand and loss of faith on the other. Creation Science, he says, allows him to disbelieve evolution and thus to believe Genesis.

I admit I don't get it myself.

We agree that evolution and Genesis don't get on well together. I've seen attempts to harmonize them, and those attempts amount to wishful thinking. They also usually involve effectively dismissing those parts of Genesis that seem inconvenient.

But I disagree that cobbling together a "science" is the only way to "save" Genesis. Bear in mind that science is a system of generalizations about what usually happens and why. And consider that science (indeed, the humbler Everyday Experience) tells us that virgins don't get pregnant without changing their status and that dead people don't get better after a few days in a tomb.

In other words, if we must have a scientific alternative (Creation Science) to evolution, we must have a scientific alternative (Virgin Birth Science) to conception and another (Resurrection Science) to postmortem decay. For without such alternatives, we must follow science rather than scripture, apparently, and these doctrines will be lost.

But science is about what usually happens--pretty much always, in fact. And the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection were one-time events, though to be sure the latter presages a much more widespread repeat. In other words, they were miracles, and because miracles are abnormal, they can't be generalized into science.

So what about Creation? Does the opening of Genesis happen a lot? Not so far as we can tell. It's characterized by God speaking and things happening. In other words, it's a miracle. But that means it can't be made into a science.

And that should be okay. The alternative is to say that there are no miracles, which is not something a Christian can agree with. But it suggests a syncretism--a mixture of proper belief with outside views--that is common and troubling. I'll hit that next, all going well.

Return of the Judaizers

The recent comment about Jesus' so-called original teaching is a matter for concern, though I'd rather not spend much time on it just now. C. S. Lewis said that human nature is constantly moving from one extreme to the other, and having spent far too long despising anything Jewish, some people have gone the other way and now worship anything Jewish.

The middle ground isn't that hard to find. The Old Testament remains vital reading for Christians, because it gives the context of the New Testament. Without it, the New Testament is meaningless and without foundation. Further, much that we find in the early Church, including the term for church itself, ekklesia (= "assembly"), has Jewish origins. Ignoring these facts leads to folly.

On the other hand, Judaism itself has changed considerably since the time of Christ. I have seen references to Jesus wearing a tallit, for example, which is a neat trick considering that they didn't arise until centuries later. From an OT perspective, covering the head was a sign of mourning--David fleeing Absalom (2 Sam 15:30--13:19 may also be an example) and Est 6:12 (though here it's Haman[!] who is our example). In the NT, Paul says that a man who is praying or prophesying should not cover his head (1 Cor 11:4, 7), and he seems to consider this obvious: there is no hint that he is disagreeing with the normal Jewish practice of the day. So some people back-read a modern practice into biblical times and misunderstandings arise.

Then there's the matter of considering non-Christian Jewish sources authoritative. In 2 Cor 3:13–16, Paul deals with this: when an unsaved Jew (probably anyone unsaved—2 Cor 4:3–4) reads the Law, he can't understand it properly; only in Christ is truth revealed. You can learn a lot from unsaved experts, but you must always remember that you're dealing with someone at least partly blind.

But the recent comment goes beyond such incautious blunders: the group in question effectively believes that Jesus did not come to establish a new covenant, because the old laws remain in place. Indeed, they ignore the argument of Heb 7:12--there has come a change of priesthood and therefore of law. They may bring up Mat 5:17-19, where Jesus claims that he has come to fulfill the Law rather than destroy it, and that the Law will remain until everything has been fulfilled. But since he came to fulfill it, he either did so or failed; and if he fulfilled the Law, its purpose has been accomplished, and a new covenant may be introduced. Rejecting the new covenant robs Jesus' life, death, and resurrection of their meaning; it marks a return to the first major heresy in Christianity: the Judaizers.

That's about all I'll say on the topic at the moment, though I'm sure I'll have to revisit it. Just indulge some healthy skepticism about wild (and often contentious) claims. You can usually pick up what kind of spirit and wisdom (Jam 3:13–17) they're using. Also remember what C. S. Lewis said about those who attack Christianity: they usually claim to accept what Jesus said while attacking Paul's teaching, but if you look carefully, it's really Jesus' teaching they're attacking. They just think Paul is a safer target. That's cowardice—and hypocrisy. Such people refute themselves.

If all goes well, I should resume some overdue reviews and get back to Dark World in short order—in fact, I'll probably intersperse them a bit.

In defense of denominations

As previously noted, God knew full well that denominations would arise, just as he knew a monarchy would arise. I'm going to sketch an argument for denominations.

To begin with, the monarchy wasn't the problem; the motivation was. It's always bad when someone depends on someone or something other than God, and that's how the Israelite monarchy began. What about denominations?

Have you noticed that in 1 Cor 1:12, Paul mentions factions--early denominations--with disquiet and even disgust, but one of the groups claims to follow Christ? It's obvious that someone following Paul, Apollos, or Cephas (Peter) has a problem, but apparently so did the "Christ-followers." Why?

While following Paul is here a bad sign, Paul himself urged others to follow his example (1 Cor 11:1, Php 3:17). The difference is that it's good to follow the example of godly people, but it's bad to follow just one person and ignore all others. This is why the "Christ-followers" were a problem: just as the Paul-followers ignored Apollos and Peter, the "Christ-followers" would have ignored any merely human teacher, including Paul. But Christ sent Paul--and Apollos, Peter, and many others. Ignoring the ones Christ sent meant ignoring Christ. But following Christ in the right way, in humility, means following the ones he has sent as well.

The danger in movements and denominations comes when they have our devotion. Are you a Christian first or a member of your denomination? If your denomination comes first, it has become an idol. Also, you are probably rejecting out of hand some people God has sent to teach you, simply because they aren't from the right group. That's one of the main reasons the Jewish religious establishment rejected Jesus!

The proper use of denominations involves humbly following God's path for you without rejecting others, and in part this means knowing why denominations exist.

Paul told the Corinthians that different groups had to exist among them to show who God approved (1 Cor 11:19). I think we've misunderstood this. He isn't saying that the idea is to find the one group that is completely correct: given human sinfulness, there won't be one. Even if there were for a brief moment, human perversity would misdirect it--and a good thing, too, or we'd begin to worship and rely on it, not God.

This is what Paul was talking about: Christianity involves living out God's love in community, and nothing shows God's love more powerfully than getting along with people when you disagree with them. The existence of different groups should be an opportunity to love fellow Christians who are unlike us. If we do so, well and good; if not, it's really our fault, not the fault of the other groups.

And there will be different groups because we are individually different. Some denominations emphasize quiet contemplation, others loud, energetic worship. Some emphasize individual responsibility, others corporate worship. And so on. Just as no one has all the spiritual gifts, so no one lives out all these facets of the faith in perfect balance. In a given congregation, this leads to the "many parts, one body" phenomenon: no one has to do everything; we each do what we were called to do. And denominationally, there is no one perfect group; each has its own strengths and weaknesses, its own place in the Body. The trick is to carry out your function without demeaning the others. As long as we do that, denominations will be a blessing, not a curse.

Christianity and "Religion" 2

I think we'll all agree that no one has ever successfully thrown a surprise party for God. He knows the end from the beginning, so of course he knew about denominations and religious wars before the Incarnation. Perhaps he thought it was worth it.

So in answer to the question, Did Jesus come to found the religion called Christianity? I would ask in turn, Did God bring Israel out of Egypt to found a monarchy? From Deut 17:14-20 we know he was aware they would choose a king eventually, but when they actually got around to it (1 Sam 8:5ff), God wasn't pleased. Now, a lot of that had to do with motives--they wanted to depend on a human leader for military victory, not God. But if you look at the history of Israelite kings, they were generally not good. Hardly any in the eventual northern kingdom were godly at all, and few of the kings of Judah were more than nominally devout. Yet God knew there would be a monarchy, and he did chose David's line for the Messiah: it wasn't all bad.

So did God bring Israel out of Egypt to found a monarchy? No--at least, that wasn't the main idea. Was the monarchy an entirely bad, human-devised idea? No--God allowed it; it was the motivation that was the issue, and God brought good out of it, including the Messianic line.

I consider the cases analogous: God did not set out to establish a religion or a monarchy, but he didn't set out not to establish one. They were acceptable and inevitable consequences of what he was out to do.

You may agree that, given sinful human nature, they were inevitable, but acceptable? I'll try to demonstrate that next.

Christianity and "Religion" 1

I don't know why Christmas brings out certain types of trolls--and if this isn't a troll, it's a line typical of trolls. I normally just reject their comments, but this one is common enough, I thought I might as well deal with it in a post. Basically, did Jesus come to "found a religion called Christianity"?

First, there's the matter of "religion." I suspect this is the sort of person who considers "religion" essentially evil. It isn't. Simply put, "religion" involves man's beliefs about and interactions with some greater (usually divine) reality. Even atheists are often religious: they are devoted to their belief in a zero-god.

"Religion" is also a system explaining these interactions, and a term for outward manifestations of them, as in James 1:26-27. Note that these verses don't treat religion as evil. I could bring up several other passages that treat the topic neutrally or positively, but then I'd feel obligated to invoke Greek, and it would probably get tedious.

Did Jesus come to found a belief system? Not as such; he came to get rid of our sins and destroy the works of the Devil (1 John 3:5, 10). But events (e.g., the Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ) entail certain beliefs about them. How can you claim to follow Jesus and deny any of these events? Furthermore, he left us teachings on a number of topics, as well as commandments to follow. And these beliefs, teachings, and commandments constitute a "religion" called Christianity.

Now, the focus is Christ. Mere assent to a group of beliefs is worthless: the demons know such things too (James 2:19). But faith requires content: it is not enough to say, "I believe!" What do you believe? You have faith in Jesus? Which Jesus? Jesus the Great Teacher and All-Around Nice Guy who didn't literally rise from the dead? Try again.

In my next post, I'll examine something similar to the founding of a "religion" that God did anyway.

The Rapture: All or Nothing

I mentioned before that "prophetic fiction" of the Left Behind variety features sort-of Christians who didn't go in the Rapture but somehow go from spiritual couch potatoes to spiritual supermen just because the Antichrist is running around.

It wouldn't happen, of course. One of the things we learn from reading about the Exodus and the journey to the Promised Land is how quickly and easily real people go from declaring devotion to God after a miracle to chucking him for an idol. Human nature hasn't changed. Technically, there would be a lot of panic conversions, perhaps, but we're too adaptable for our own good, and the new "believers" would quickly settle down and cool down and even rationalize taking the Mark.

Still, the fact that this nonsense is regularly and vividly portrayed presents the equivalent of telling people they will have a second chance at salvation after they die. It's a damnable and damning doctrine, yet people who would never dream of committing the more obvious heresy still believe in the eschatological second chance.

Now, on one level this is simply another example of the humanism so common in evangelical Christianity: we confuse truth (a spiritual thing) with fact (an intellectual thing) and suppose that running into a Fact (zillions of people disappearing in the Rapture) will have the effect of a revealed Truth (turning people from sin to God).

It doesn't work. Paul said (2 Thes 2:9-12) that the Antichrist would bring a deluding influence that would suck in anyone who has received the love of the truth. (People who have received that love are saved.) It seems to me, then, that anyone who enters the Tribulation rejecting God is not at all likely to change his mind. Those saved during the Tribulation will therefore be those who had not been evangelized and thus had no chance to accept or reject Jesus.

But let's prove that there is no second chance. Look at Matt 25:1-12 (The Wise and Foolish Virgins). The fact that they're virgins means, in the imagery of the time, that they at least have a form of godliness: these are churchgoers. Yet the foolish virgins, who in effect miss the Rapture, get no second chance. They get their spiritual act together (buying the oil) only to find themselves locked out. In fact, they hear the thing you never want to hear from God: "I don't know you" (v. 12). So apparently Rayford Steele and his friends are actually damned. Oops.

But there's another side to this. It is harder to get Left Behind than a lot of pop eschatology wonks say: if you truly are saved, you go. Look at 1 Thes 5, where Paul talks about staying awake, which he contrasts with not paying attention spiritually. Sleepers party; the wakeful godly watch and pray. But then see what he says in v. 10: "[Jesus] died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him." That means that the party dudes, if they are truly saved at all to begin with, go too. (If they didn't, they'd be locked out like the foolish virgins.)

Wow! Party on, Dude!

Not so fast. John gives the consequence: And now, dear children, continue in him, so that when he appears we may be confident and unashamed before him at his coming. (1 John 2:28) Apparently it's possible to be ashamed in the midst of the Rapture itself. That's a major buzzkill, and it will change any amount of partying and fun into horror and disgust. Serve God fully; it's easier in the long run.

The Proper Role of Prophecy

The annoying thing about prophecy is that it's generally all or nothing. Either you get practically no real teaching or you get way too much--and in the latter case, it's generally over-hyped and under-researched. It's a popcorn or even cotton-candy topic, and I can understand why less entertainment-driven churches shy away from it. But I think we can learn something really important by considering something basic and unifying that history has to teach us.

Have you noticed that there is generally an eschatological thrust to revivals and waves of evangelism? Seriously, look at the Bible, especially in Acts: how often is evangelism rooted in the idea of the Last Judgment? Pretty much always, at least when the gist of the message is presented. Was it an accident that Jonathan Edwards was best known for "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"? (And yes, that's eschatological in focus.)

So eschatology matters.

But consider this: when eschatology is used for evangelism, it is what we may call "Common Eschatology"--the eschatology that is common to all truly Christian denominations. There's no reference to the Rapture or the Antichrist or the Millennium. The reference is simply to the Last Judgment: someday, whether we miss the Tribulation through Rapture or just death, or even if we go through it, we shall all stand before God and give account for our lives and deeds. The graveyards of the world are full of people who never encountered a literal Antichrist or Tribulation period, and it may be that we will be there ourselves someday without facing any of them. Comparatively few will come to the brink of the Tribulation, but everyone who has not turned to God shall die--and most Christians, too. So it's reasonable to pitch our sermons to the certainties of death and judgment.

What about the more Hollywood doctrines--the sort that go into making books and movies of the Left Behind variety? Well, I'd say it's more important to know God and the Scriptures than the doctrine. That won't happen, of course, and neither will the respectable alternative: just say that your denomination holds such-and-such a view, while others hold other views. If you have the guts and godliness, explain the other views without putting them down. (Yes, maybe you're right and they're wrong, but even then it's worth understanding them. And who knows? Maybe you're wrong after all!)

It's also worth noting that while prophecy of this sort was clearly taught to new believers, it doesn't seem to have been used in evangelism--only the Judgment was. The modern business of scaring people with the Rapture or Tribulation cannot be found in Scripture, and if you read the early Christian writers, they tended to reserve it for those already saved, not for evangelizing the unsaved. Coincidence?

Let's be honest: we like certain topics because they're titillating and sensational, not because they do any actual good. Discussions of prophecy should be limited to Christians, and they should be dealt with briefly (yet thoroughly), so we can spend more time on the more important issues, such as loving others and living holy lives.

Introduction to Eschatology: Views of the Rapture

I'll give these in the order of the Rapture, that is, pre-, mid-, prewrath, and post-. Note that the strengths and weaknesses, though obvious and typical, can be argued against by anyone with any wit.

Pre-trib View
The Tribulation is a seven-year period of divine wrath, during which God brings Israel back to Himself. As Christians are not appointed to wrath and as Israel is God’s focus, the Church cannot be here.
Strengths: The Rapture is unexpected and unpredictable; incentive for godly life.
Weaknesses: Produces fear of being left behind; indeed, devotion is based on fear, not love.

Mid-trib View
Oddly, mid-tribs often consider themselves pre-tribs—they just don’t think the Rapture is imminent. Instead, they suppose that the Antichrist must appear first by breaking his seven-year covenant (Dan. 9:27, 2 Thes 2:3). The Rapture follows, then the Tribulation proper—a three-and-half-year period of wrath much like the pre-tribs expect. (The first three and a half years of the covenant are considered too mild to be part of the Tribulation.) Thus mid-tribs believe in a pre-tribulational Rapture, but not an imminent one.
Strengths: Accounts for the frequent references to three-and-a-half-year periods in prophecy (Dan. 7:25, 9:27, 12:7, 11; Rev. 11:2, 3, 12:14, 13:5).
Weaknesses: Though trying to combine the strengths of pre-trib and post-trib views while minimizing their weaknesses, mid-tribulationism often seems to accomplish the opposite.

Prewrath View
Just as mid-tribs are technically pre-tribulational, prewraths are technically post-tribulational. Unfortunately, the prewrath view is rather complex. It divides the last seven years into “the Beginning of Sorrows” (Matt. 24:8—the first three and a half years and the first four Seals of Revelation), “the Great Tribulation” (Matt.24:21—the Fifth and Sixth Seals, followed by the Rapture), and the “Day of the Lord” (Luke 17:30–31--but compare Matt. 15:16–21--which extends from the Seventh Seal until the Second Coming). The Seals are taken to represent the wrath of man, the Trumpets the wrath of God on Jew and Gentile alike, and the Bowls the wrath of God against those who persecute the Jews, who have been saved following the Trumpets.
Strengths: Harmonizes the unexpectedness of the Rapture (Matt. 24:36, 42, 44) with the expectedness of the Rapture (1 Thes 5:4—the “thief” metaphor refers to unexpectedness).
Weaknesses: Complex; based on hairsplitting terminological distinctions that are hard to support.

Post-trib View
Post-tribs are the only premills who are not concerned with wrath. They generally suppose that God is a very good shot, who can strike all around us without hitting us (Psa. 91, especially vv. 7–8). Given that tribulation or oppression is said to be the lot of Christians (John 16:33; Acts 14:22; Col. 1:24; 1 Thes. 3:3–4), post-tribs see no reason why we should be spared the final period of tribulation, which probably will differ from that experienced today in communist and Muslim countries only in extent. There has always been tribulation, that is, persecution, but there have always been refuges from it as well, such as the New World once furnished. The final tribulation will lack such havens and be marked by extreme delusion among the ungodly.
Since post-tribs do not consider the Rapture an escape, they instead take it to represent the glorification and empowerment of believers, so that we may rise to meet our Lord as He returns. We shall then escort him to earth (this meeting and escort is the proper meaning of the word translated “meeting” in 1 Thes. 4:17), where he shall punish and destroy those who have taken the mark of the Beast.
Strengths: Probably the oldest view of the Rapture, and the least complicated.
Weaknesses: Predictability of the Second Coming/Rapture; lack of people to enter the Millennium.

Get to know your neighbors! You're going to spend eternity with these people, and it may turn out that some of them are right, not you.

And next up we'll consider the role of the Rapture and eschatology in general in preaching and teaching.

Introduction to Eschatology: The Rapture in Context

Let's start off by considering the eschatological and theological context of the Rapture.

For most of Church history, the big question was not, When does the Rapture occur? but What is the Millennium? There were three main answers:

Amillennialism. This view takes the Millennium figuratively, usually as a reference to the triumphal aspect of the Church Age. The counterbalance is the Tribulation, which represents the persecution during the Church Age. Note that most Christians throughout history and practically all scholars have been in this group, and it has no "pre-trib" position. The Rapture is what happens to Christians when Jesus returns at the end of the age. Typical amills are older denominations other than Reformed groups: Catholics, Episcopalians, Lutherans, etc.

Postmillenialism. The Millenium is a golden age that will arise when the Church fulfills its mission to disciple all nations. During this time, evil will be restrained and the Gospel generally recognized as true. Postmills sometimes say that Jesus will come though the Church before he comes for the Church. The great evangelic and missionary movements of the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries were usually postmill in origin. This view is seldom found outside Reformed denominations.

Premillenialism. This is the confusing one. Although all premills believe that Jesus' return to the earth (generally said to occur at the end of the Tribulation) ushers in a kind of golden age similar to that of postmills, but with Jesus and the resurrected Christians ruling the world, they differ on the timing and purpose of the Rapture. Premills are generally in newer, evangelical denominations, though the idea itself goes back quite a way. Baptists, Pentecostals, and some generic groups are typically premills, though there are several varieties of Baptist.

Note that only premills tend to talk about the Rapture at all: for amills and postmills, it's simply what happens at the return of Christ. And among premills, post-tribs would agree with this. And that gives us an important reality check: a number of great and godly Christians didn't believe in the idea, and they were still used by God. That should indicate that, whatever the truth about the Rapture, it is a comparatively minor doctrine. (The big doctrines are that Jesus will return to resurrect and judge all and sundry, leading to eternal reward or punishment.)

It also follows that disagreement about the Rapture is disagreement over trivia. There have been cases of people being treated as though they were dangerous heretics or purveyors of immorality simply because they held an unpopular view of the Rapture. That's unacceptable. I acknowledge the salvation and blessedness of a lot of people I disagree with, and sometimes on far weightier issues. I will not reject anyone based solely on his view of the Rapture.

But it's worth understanding other views. Next I'll explain the different ideas of the Rapture found among premills and why they matter.

Introduction to Eschatology: "They all...fell asleep"

To recap: prophecy isn't about figuring things out in advance; it's about recognizing the hand of God when he acts, or at least soon afterward.

But if that's so, why bother with prophecy?

The simple answer is that recognizing God at work can stabilize you in the midst of chaos. What is a horror to someone else is a sign to you, and that's especially useful if you're already under fire.

Have you ever considered the contrast, nearly the contradiction, between the wise virgins of Matt 25:1-13 and the frequent warning to watch (Matt 26:41, 1 Thess 5:4-8, etc.)? Matt 25:5 says "they all [wise virgins included] became drowsy and fell asleep." I think the contexts are different: when we are called on to stay awake in Matt 26, it's literal wakefulness to allow prayer; in Thessalonians, the idea is that we will fall asleep morally and become like the unsaved people around us, unprepared for the coming judgment.

And it's preparation that constitutes wisdom in the parable: all fell asleep, but only the wise were ready to act the moment they came to. The foolish strike me as being those people who claim they'll get serious about serving God when the Antichrist shows up. They won't, of course: if they can't be bothered to serve God in comparatively easy times, they certainly won't turn into super saints when the persecution starts. They're more likely to take the Mark.

(Personal nag: this is another reason I despise most books like the Left Behind series: they encourage the view that you can be a worldly "Christian" and still be saved in the end by transforming from couch potato to Olympic athlete under the pressure of the Tribulation. It doesn't work, and many may wind up in Hell because of such nonsense.)

So what's the use of studying prophecy? Well, if you really are studying prophecy itself--what God says, not what some expert says he says--the Holy Spirit will help you see the sign and recognize the encouragement. But if all you know is what someone says about the Bible, that won't get you anywhere. Knowing the Bible is more important than knowing about the Bible, just as knowing God is more important than knowing about God. But these days most Christians know prophecy second-hand at best.

Next time I'll look at a few problems the modern prophecy industry (for it certainly isn't a ministry) has created. We might as well start with the timing of the Rapture and why it should not be the big deal prophecy pundits say it is.

Introduction to Eschatology: Forewarned?

Last time I said that prophecy doesn't typically forewarn us. In fact, the goal of prophecy is not prospective but retrospective: you don't truly appreciate it until after the fact. Let's review a scripture from last time:

John 14:29 "I have told you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe."

See the point? He doesn't forewarn them so they will prepare, much less to satisfy their curiosity. He tells them so that when it catches them napping and they finally wake up, they will be encouraged to believe.

This is also why Jesus predicted Peter's denial: not to forewarn him, because it was going to happen anyway, but to encourage him after the fact with the knowledge that Jesus had known about it all along. Let's get the context:

Luke 22:31-32 "Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you [all of you--the disciples] as wheat. But I have prayed for you [individually], Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers."

Then Peter says he won't fail Jesus and gets the denial prophecy. But the idea was that when he had failed, he could look back at this and realize that Jesus had known and prayed for him, so he could turn back and strengthen the others. This is the typical pattern.

I sometimes call Luke "the hidden Gospel" because it consistently presents the hiddenness of prophecy: prophecy usually is not meant to be understood beforehand. Thus, we may wonder why the disciples didn't understand about Jesus' death and resurrection when he kept predicting it, but Luke explains:

Luke 9:45 But they did not understand what this meant. It was hidden from them, so that they did not grasp it, and they were afraid to ask him about it.

Luke 18:34 The disciples did not understand any of this. Its meaning was hidden from them, and they did not know what he was talking about.

Similarly, the disciples going to Emmaus met Jesus after his resurrection,

Luke 24:16 but they were kept from recognizing him.

And when the disciples helped blatantly fulfill prophecy, they didn't get it at the time. We read in John 12:16,

At first his disciples did not understand all this [=the triumphal entry]. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that they had done these things to him.

I've heard a lot of people claim that the disciples knew their actions in getting the donkey, etc., fulfilled prophecy. Untrue: you don't get prophecy in advance. This is why the modern End-times Prophecy industry is dead wrong. It hasn't happened yet, so we don't get it. God won't let us understand beforehand, just as he kept the disciples from figuring it out before the fact.

Bear in mind that the prophecy experts of Jesus' time knew all about the coming of the Messiah, and they still thought Jesus was a fake! Why? Because they already had all the answers, so they weren't really trusting God:

Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding...

Next time we'll look at why it's reasonable to study prophecy even though we know we won't get it in advance.

Introduction to Eschatology: What Prophecy Is

Warning: the point of this brief series isn't to tell you what's going to happen--how Biblical prophecies are going to play out. In fact, that's where we begin: the goal of Biblical prophecy is not simply to be a more accurate version of newspaper horoscopes. Prophecy has little predictive force from that standpoint. Rather, the goal of prophecy is to glorify God--and secondarily to encourage his people to believe. Let's begin by looking at those two in order.

Glorifying God. Prophecy is a way that God verifies his credentials. After all, he's omniscient, so he must be prescient as well. You'll find this idea a lot in the Old Testament prophets, but the clearest statement is probably in Isaiah.

41:22-23 "Bring in your idols to tell us what is going to happen. Tell us what the former things were, so that we may consider them and know their final outcome. Or declare to us the things to come, tell us what the future holds, so we may know that you are gods. Do something, whether good or bad, so that we will be dismayed and filled with fear."

...

41:26 "Who told of this from the beginning, so we could know, or beforehand, so we could say, 'He was right'? No one told of this, no one foretold it, no one heard any words from you."

This is echoed in Rev 19:10--At this I fell at his feet to worship him. But he said to me, "Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God! For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy." The spirit or essence of prophecy is witnessing to Jesus.


However, modern prophecy experts tend to focus on themselves and how clever they are to have figured out all the items on their amazing charts. But again, prediction as such isn't the goal. We glorify God when we realize that he knew all along what would happen, and we are comforted by his knowledge and power: God is in control.

Encouraging belief. This is the second goal. In John 14:29, Jesus said, "I have told you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe." Note that this had nothing to do with satisfying curiosity, which apparently has little or no importance to God. But the modern approach to prophecy assumes that satisfying curiosity is a big concern, perhaps the biggest concern.

I'll revisit this verse next time to explore why prophecy has little or no predictive power in the modern sense of forewarning.