Belief and Behavior

I had a conversation in a hallway at the Presbytery meeting at Grand Lakes Presbyterian, last Saturday. An acquaintance of some years, no longer in our area, buttonholed me to let me know that he'd come to a decision. He'd come to believe that it is possible for a person to hold two beliefs at the same time: that Jesus Christ is Lord; and, that same-sex relations are not outside God's plan for His people. He went on to tell me that the main reason for his coming to this conclusion was that he had been visiting a number of churches, that he had found conservative congregations to be unwelcoming, and that he had seen the work of Christ being done in more progressive congregations. In particular, he had been impressed by work being done with the homeless in one very liberal congregation. He wasn't being argumentative, he just wanted to let me know that he had had a change of opinion. In the few minutes that were available I tried to sketch out a reply. If I'd had longer (and hadn't had bronchitis) I'd have elaborated in the following ways.

First, there is no a priori reason why you can't hold those two beliefs at the same time. Many do. They are not, in and of themselves mutually exclusive. However, when you take the implications of the first belief seriously, then it becomes much more difficult to hold the second.

Acceptance of the lordship of Christ is not simply intellectual assent, as if it could be given in a vacuum. My belief in the lordship of Christ is not the same as my belief that gravity exists on Mars. An acknowledgement of Christ's lordship (when it is personalized) has very clear implications regarding the way in which I live my life. Right belief (orthodoxy) is closely related to right behavior (orthopraxy). There are, as far as I am aware, no moral implications resulting from a belief in gravity on Mars; but there obviously are implications for my life if I accept that Jesus Christ is my Lord. I can accept that lordship and continue in behaviors that do not honor Him, but that does not make the behaviors right or acceptable, it simply makes me disobedient.

Second, what is really at stake is the question of how I know what God expects of me. That is, how do I know the moral requirements that are mine when once I acknowledge the lordship of Christ. It's a question of epistemology - how do I know what I know? For Christians, the answer must always include God's self-revelation, interpreted by the Holy Spirit, which we know as the Bible. We give content to the notion of Christ's lordship as we understand it within the context of salvation history as revealed in Scripture. Traditionally, Presbyterians have said that the Bible is without error in all matters pertaining to faith and life. That is, when the Bible tells us that God is love, for example, it is impossible for that affirmation to be false. God has not given us a faulty revelation. The Bible is to be trusted. Therefore, we should trust that the Bible gives us reliable information, not only about the nature and character of God, but also about the way in which He wants us to live our lives. To take a non-controversial example, when the Bible says that the Lord requires of us that we should do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8), then it is not possible for the Bible to be in error. God has revealed what He wants from us.

So why do we question revelation with regard to same-sex behavior? Despite the verbal and hermeneutical gymnastics of some commentators, the Bible is actually pretty clear (see I Corinthians 6:9-11, for example). It seems to me that the difference is that with regard to justice, the Bible agrees with popular culture, whereas with regard to homosexuality, it does not. The over-riding motivation, therefore, seems to be less about compliance with Scriptural norms, and more about accommodation to societal mores.

Third, it's dangerous to take human experience as the determinant of truth. It's surely regrettable that my friend's experience of conservative congregations should have been that they are more judgmental and less welcoming. Nevertheless, experience alone should not lead to the conclusion that one is right (progressive/liberal) and that one is wrong (conservative/evangelical). I firmly believe that we have a responsibility to welcome all people into the local church, we should be radically inclusive (to steal a descriptor that has been purloined by liberalism); but it is not our business to then accommodate biblical truth in order to fit cultural expectations. In fact that is not the loving thing to do. Love does not wink at error, it confronts it. No, for us, experience is always secondary. Our primary source for making sense of God's way with the world is always revelation. If we move our feet from that rock, we end up putting our trust in a foundation of shifting sand.

The Beijing Olympics

Pet peeve, but you'll have to forgive me...

This is how the American press has been reporting the medals table from Beijing.

2008 Medals

Country Gold Silver Bronze Total
USA 36 38 36 110
China 51 21 28 100
Russia 23 21 28 72
G. Britain 19 13 15 47
Australia 14 15 17 46

Germany 16 10 15 41

This is how the rest of the world has been reporting the medals table from Beijing.

2008 Medals

At-a-glance medals table Sunday, 24 August 2008
Rank Country Gold Silver Bronze TOTAL
1 China 51 21 28 100
2 USA 36 38 36 110
3 Russia 23 21 28 72
4 G.Britain 19 13 15 47
5 Germany 16 10 15 41
6 Australia 14 15 17 46

Now, don't misunderstand me, I love the "can-do" attitude that still predominates in the US, that's one of the reasons we're here. It's certainly much better than the constant whining that predominates in certain parts of old Europe. I think it's great that Michael Phelps can get 8 gold medals (and even better that he can eat three fried egg sandwiches for breakfast, with extra mayo, and still be a phenomenal athlete).

However, you don't always need to be first at everything. It's alright to compete (as a nation) and come second. You don't have to fiddle the numbers to make it look like you came out on top.

I thought it was competing that mattered, and doing your best.

For a better perspective you might like to read about the Icelandic Handball Team, and others who came, and competed, and lost, but had a great time.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/olympics/2008/08/world_view_of_beijing.html

OK, peeve over.

Paradise

Last night, on PBS, Michael Wood, the historian, had an interesting programme in his series on myths and heroes, in which he explored the story of Shangri-La.

In its modern form, the tale of Shangri-La is not very old. James Hilton captured the imagination of a war-weary world in his novel Lost Horizon, which told the story of Westerners rescued from a war-zone by 'plane, who subsequently crash landed in a remote area of Tibet, near Mount Kailash. There, they found what everyone craves - a place of perfect harmony and peace.

They had discovered a lost valley untouched by the struggles of the world, truly a paradise. The story was made into a movie in 1933. It had a wide appeal, probably as a means of escape from the privations of the Great Depression, and the bombast and rhetoric of a certain Adolf Hitler.

The story, like the lost valley of Shangri-La, is fictional. However, it seems to have been based upon a much older story told by one Antonio Andrade, a 16th century missionary at the court of the Moghul emperor Akbar. This ruler had gathered representatives of all of the major religions, because he believed "that it cannot be right to assert the truth of one faith above any other...." Andrade set out in search of a Christian community rumoured to exist in a remote area of Tibet. Eventually, after much searching, he found the hidden valley, and the kingdom of which he had heard. But there were no Christians there. Andrade's account was lost for many years only to be rediscovered in Calcutta in the late 19th century. Its publication led to Lost Horizon.

Andrade may well have heard the story of a lost kingdom at Akbar's surprisingly post-modern inter-faith conference. The Buddhists told a tale of a wonderful place called Shambala, (Sanskrit for 'peace') in the land beyond the Himalayas, a magical land of harmony and peace, ruled over by the wise, a land of plenty, in the shadow of a magnificent mountain.

Wood may well have identified the source of these legends in a Tibetan mountain-top community which he explored in his television program. Interestingly, the once fertile valley is now barren; the fortress that once protected the King and his family has been destroyed; the revered Buddhist shrines have fallen victim to the excesses of the Cultural Revolution. If it is Shangri-La, it is no paradise.

Wood's comment, right at the end of the program was telling: "Of course, paradise may still be found anywhere on earth, but only on earth."

What are we to make of this?

In typical PBS fashion, the cultured commentator makes approving noises when recounting Akbar's search for the Golden Bough that underlies all religious experience. He then goes on to assert, as an article of blind faith, that paradise is only to be found on earth. Given that he has just been exploring the remains of a beautiful kingdom, destroyed by the avarice of men, his conclusion is a little surprising. One would have thought that he would have denied the possibility of paradise on earth, while acknowledging that, for most major religions, that hope is transferred to heaven.

So, what did Jesus mean when he told the dying thief, suffering beside Him on his cross, that, "Today, you will be with me in paradise"? (Luke 23:43) Surely, this: That beyond the grave, for those who trust in Him, there will be be a place where we shall enter into the presence of God. It will be a place of beauty and of peace. For the Christian, the yearning for paradise is not for a specific location on earth, but for the City of God, where Christ shall reign (Revelation 22:2). The word 'paradise' is Persian. It means 'garden' or 'park.' According to the Bible, paradise was lost in a garden.

It will be regained, not on a mountain in Tibet, but when we see our Savior face to face.

Sign of the Times

Lesley and I went to Houston yesterday, to pick up floral supplies, which was terribly exciting. Then we stopped at "British Isles" in Rice Village, which is a haven for ex-pats. It's rather expensive, but fun. The front of the store has a lot of English porcelain and fancy giftware. (Next time you need a small statue of Admiral Nelson for $225 you will know where to go). The back of the store is full of good things to eat that you can't buy at Krogers.

One thing caught my eye. Like everywhere else, the store sells magnetic signs to put on your refrigerator - mostly London Underground signs or Union Jacks. They also had a section of poetry, including this "blessing."

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

And the rain fall soft upon your fields.

Notice anything strange about it? The last two lines are missing.

And, until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Apparently, the makers were so afraid of offending anyone, that they removed all mention of God. But, it offended me...

Actually, I think we should use this version:

May the road rise up to greet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

And may you be half an hour in heaven

Before the devil knows you're gone.

All Quiet on the Western Front

When I was growing up, in Blackburn, in the North West of England, I knew a man named Tommy. I have no idea whether or not it was his real name, but that's what everyone called him. Most days, when my mother sent me to the grocery store that neighbors operated out of their front room, I would pass Tommy's terraced house. Unless the weather was poor, (which, to be honest it often was), he would be sitting on a stool by his front door, smoking Woodbines, quite prepared to pass the time of day with anyone who happened by. Of course we became friends. There is a natural affinity between the elderly and the young - there are simple pleasures to be shared, like a bag of pear drops; the concerns of the world may be blissfully ignored when you are 7 or 77. Not that I had any idea how old he was. To me, Tommy was just old. He always had a smile and a happy wave. He was harmless. He was also a trained killer.


Tommy had served in the fiasco that was Gallipoli. He had a pith helmet with a bullet hole in it to prove his story. After more than fifty years he was still angry at the stupidity of the commanders who would not let their troops take the high ground in safety, instead pitching camp at the foot of cliffs, allowing Turkish troops to occupy the positions that would lead to the debacle. Tommy had also served on the Western Front. It was there that he had succumbed to shell-shock, the paralysis of the will caused by being subjected for too long to the horror and noise of battle. Since demobilization, in 1919, Tommy had not been able to do anything but the most menial of jobs. In retirement, drawing a meager pension, he spent his days smoking, and talking his time away.
I thought of Tommy as I read, recently, Malcolm Brown's Imperial War Museum Book of the Western Front.
This is a different type of account of the 'war to end all wars', quite unlike the dry dispatches of the official historians. Instead of pretending to view the events of those four fateful years from some dispassionate position, high above the fields of battle, Brown's book uses first hand, contemporary accounts to paint a very different picture. The book is written in a series of short chapters, each chapter concentrating upon some aspect of the experience of the common soldier. It is liberally illustrated with extracts from letters and diaries. Many of those quoted did not survive the war. Here are a few of the things that caught my attention:
- The humanity of the ordinary man. Unlike the modern, fictional hero, who is applauded for his ability to 'take out' the enemy, Tommy Atkins (the nickname for all British soldiers at that time) was a decent chap who did not kill unless he had to.
- In order to win, therefore, most killing had to be done at a distance. Thousands did die in suicidal rushes across no-man's land, but many more were killed by the use of heavy artillery. Indeed, many soldiers remarked that it would have been easier to have fought face to face, instead of wondering whether the next screaming shell "has my name on it."
- Since combatants could do nothing to prevent their deaths at the hands of artillery fire, a fierce fatalism developed during the war years, which had more in common with Islam than with Christianity. It seemed, to those who hunkered down in the trenches of Ypres or the Somme, that either God slept or He was unconcerned by their fate. In the end, the tenets of historic Christianity were sacrificed in the interests of survival. Sociologists have often noted that the decline of the church in the West can be traced to the First World War. It did not help that political jingoism was trumpeted from the pulpits of both Britain and Germany. Every German infantryman bore, on his belt buckle, the words Gott mit uns. This did not prevent his superiors from turning loose poisoned gas upon the cream of England's youth. Ironically, the belt buckle became, in the mind of Tommy Atkins, just another proof that his enemies were just "Huns," less than human.
- At the same time, the stories recorded in the book speak of an incredible heroism, and of a dedication to King and country that has largely dissipated today. Nationalism may have a great deal to answer for, and patriotism may, as Johnson said, be the last refuge of scoundrels, but it is better than the cringing anarchy of today, where no good thing is immune from carping cynicism. Despite the disillusionment that developed towards the end of the war, hardly surprising considering the huge losses, there is still something noble about Tommy Atkins. He may be a little rough around the edges, overly fond of hard drink, but he is also a gentleman. There's one telling story about a group of weary, grimy soldiers given a brief respite from the Front, for whom a troupe of visiting entertainers put on a show. One of the artistes was a beautiful young woman who sang for the soldiers. Between songs she teased them with racy comments (doubtless incredibly mild by today's standards). The men were simply embarrassed. They spent their days and nights killing or being killed, but when a young woman sang to them, they remembered their mothers and their wives.
- One final thing. The war was almost lost to the Allies in late 1917 when a German offensive pushed them back from the positions they had held for over three years. If the Germans had reached the coast they would have split the Allies, and probably outflanked them. Axis forces could have strutted down the boulevards of Paris, or maybe even the avenues of London. But the retreating armies did not break, though they bent. Soon, reinforced by the doughboys from over the water, they were able to turn the tide. In reaching too far the German offensive stalled. Before they could dig in, and trench warfare recommence, the Allies counterattacked. A war that had looked lost in March was over by November. Here's the startling fact - many of the soldiers who pushed back the Kaiser's troops were still in their teens. Barely old enough to vote, or to drink, they were old enough to kill.


Anyone who seeks to glorify unnecessary warfare should read this book; anyone who seeks to demonize those who fight should also read it. Wars are not really fought by generals, but by eighteen year old boys, like Tommy.