Christian Pharisaism

Hello, and welcome to my blog! And welcome back to those of you who regularly read it. Today, I would like to begin a series in which I explore the four sects of Judaism that were around in Jesus’ time and see what we can learn from them. These are, in case you don’t know, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Zealots and the Essenes. Most Christians have probably heard of the first two, as Jesus butted heads with them on a fairly frequent basis during his ministry. But in what ways did they do things that we can model in our own lives? In what ways did they go in the wrong direction, missteps which we can learn to avoid? Oftentimes, we can take our best step forward by taking a look behind us, so with that in mind, let us now dive in with the Pharisees!

The Pharisees tend to get a really bad rap (or is it rep?) among Christians, with Christians often advising against what we call “Pharisaism.” This word seems to have become synonymous with legalism and, to a lesser extent, a harshly judgmental view of “outsiders,” i.e. non-Christians. Sometimes, those outsiders are even other Christians, either those not of our denomination, or of our church, or even of our social circle. Have you ever been in an argument with another Christian and felt the desire to distance yourself from them, sure that their heretical beliefs were surely sending them to Hell? I have to admit that I’ve been in that mindset before, and in those times, I believe I’m actually closer to Hell than the supposed heretic because I’ve fallen into the trap of “Pharisaism.” But were the Pharisees always this way?

The answer, it seems, is a definitive no. The Jewish sect of the Pharisees arose in the middle of the Second Century B.C., shortly after the Jews gained political independence in the Maccabean Revolt. Initially a protest group against the Jewish priest-kings who established themselves  in the aftermath (the reasons are complicated, so I’ll skip the details), they had roots as scholars and sages going back for centuries. Their goal, or greatest desire, was to revive the Jewish scriptures of the Old Testament and convince Israel to renew its old promises with God by living out the detailed rituals and Levitical Laws. The Pharisees remained popular with the people all the way beyond Jesus’ time, and after the Romans destroyed the Jerusalem Temple in 70 A.D., the Pharisaical sect began to evolve into the Rabbinic Judaism which is still practiced today (albeit with 2 millennia of theological and historical growth added on).

While the Pharisees were intent on upholding the Levitical Laws, their original goal was not to fall into a callous legalism. Rather, theirs was a pursuit of righteousness, of serving God wholeheartedly as he’d spelled out to their ancestors, of honoring him in every part of their lives. The Pharisees wanted the old stories and prophecies to come alive and bring the people back into a proper relationship with God, and in that way, we Christians are not really so different. We study the scriptures, trying to apply the lessons it offers in order to become better people. We try to mend our relationship both with God and with other people, and bring about great revivals so that our friends, neighbors and fellow citizens can once again come back to the love of God.

The Pharisees, however, did not stay this way. As with many things – even whole denominations – time was unkind toward them. As Pharisaism persevered through the centuries, many of its followers still sought the lessons which could be gleaned from scripture, and they were not foreign to metaphorical or poetic approaches as some were (more on that when we get to the Sadducees). Some, like Gamaliel, the teacher of none other than the apostle Paul himself, were sympathetic to the early Christians. And if you can believe it, Christ’s teachings during his ministry were actually Pharisaical in form (that is, they brought new meaning and wrought deeper, hidden messages out of scripture while encouraging a more devout faith in God). But by the time of Christ, too many had fallen into the mindset I mentioned at the start, the mindset of judgmental legalism. These Pharisees who clashed with Jesus saw themselves as better than the regular Jews, as better than the other sects, as more holy and righteous in the ways they lived their lives. In short, they fell into the ultimate trap of self-righteousness. And when one is filled with self-righteousness, there is usually too little room left for the righteousness of God.

How many of us Christians have unknowingly started off on the path of the original Pharisees, only to find ourselves in the boat of those who demanded his crucifixion? How often have we, in our ardent desire to love and honor God with our lives, forgotten his love for others and begun to see ourselves as morally superior to them? Are we better than the Muslims, the Hindus, the immigrants or the criminals simply because we follow the teachings in Scripture? If we think we are, and we begin with our fellow Christians to judge and condemn those outsiders, then we have become, in the words of our leader himself, a “brood of vipers.” So we must seek the righteousness of the Pharisees, but also deplore the self-righteousness that had ensnared them by the time Christ walked the Earth. We must welcome the broken, the lost and, yes, even the criminals and foreigners, just as Christ has welcomed into his family those Gentile outsiders who first paved the way for us.

Until next time, friends…

Faults and Absence

Good day, or as the Texans say, good day, y’all! I’ve only been living in San Antonio for a year-and-a-half, so that word hasn’t made it into my vocabulary yet, though it has worked its way into my wife’s language, so I believe the day will come when people will hear me say “y’all.”

Now that I’ve sufficiently bored you by talking about my vocabulary, let’s move into the meat and potatoes of today’s post. In truth, I had two different topics chosen, but I couldn’t choose between them, so I’ve decided to go with both! The first has to do with an experience I had recently, and the second with a philosophical thought I had yesterday.

1: My own moral faults

As someone who reads this blog regularly would know, I have a frequent struggle with a judgmental attitude. In the past, I gave greater reign to my judgment of others, but in the past four years, I’ve put more conscious effort into loving, rather than judging, others. As a reflection of this, a judgmental attitude has become one of the things which I oppose the strongest, and it’s something that I simply cannot stand. I hate judgmental claims because, quite simply, I hate my tendency to make them.

I thought I’d been getting better at not being judgmental. Then, while I was out to eat with a group of friends on Sunday, I found myself twice delving into deep, vicious judgments of others, first of those who I deemed “dumb” and second of a scriptwriter on a project I was remotely involved in. I won’t delve into my views of her particular script, but suffice to say that I unleashed a furious judgment on it, which quickly expanded into a judgment of the writer herself. But as I was judging most harshly, I was blessed with a metaphorical gut-punch from my wife. She later felt bad for deflating me, and I felt bad for needing to be deflated, but it was ultimately for the best, as she helped to jar me out of that hateful, self-righteous mindset.

Looking back, I still feel guilt over my judgmental attitude in our conversations. But I need to realize that I’m not perfect, and so I have much growing to do in order to become who God wants me to be. And with that in mind, I also need to thank God for blessing me with the infrequently gut-punching wife that I need to push me into becoming that better person.

2: The absence of evidence

In a mostly unrelated topic, I found myself later that same afternoon thinking about whether or not there is evidence for the existence of God. I’ve heard much from both sides of the debate: atheists who claim their is no such evidence, and Christians who claim there is.

On the side of the atheists, the main argument proceeds as follows: there is no evidence for the existence of God; therefore, that absence should be taken as proof of God’s nonexistence. It’s a fairly simple argument that most atheists find persuasive, but which all Christians (as well as persons of other faiths) reject. There are more vigorous interchanges and nuances which I will not explore. Instead, I find the need to point out its flawed core. You see, in the world of logic, there exists a particular fallacy called the Argumentum ex Silentio, or the Argument from Silence. The fallacy is in assuming that a lack of evidence is enough to disprove an idea, entity or event. But alas, this type of thinking is fallacious. After all, there’s no proof that a person ever died on the patch of Earth outside my bedroom window, but that in no way proves that no one in the history of the Earth ever died on that patch of land. The only argument that can be made is that if such an event ever did occur, there is no evidence of it now. So to the atheist, one must simply say that if God does exist, there is no evidence of it. That is all that can be said on that.

Now on the other side, there is the Christian (typically, at least in America) who makes the claim that there is evidence for God’s existence. Volumes could be filled with claims of such evidence, and all to bolster the claim for God’s reality. But there is an issue here as well. Suppose, for a moment, that there was actual, indefatigable proof that God exists. When presented with that undeniable truth, any reasonable person would have no choice but to believe in God, just as they would have no choice but to believe that there are shoes on their feet (if they’re wearing them). But to this I ask: is that belief, then, still an act of faith?

You see, if you choose to believe in God because reason tells you that is the most logical choice, then you’re not really making any steps in faith. You’re simply doing what’s logical and reasonable. The implication of this is that you’re not putting God at the top above everything. Why? Because you’re still holding to reason as that thing which has your utmost loyalty. Choosing God based on evidence means that you’re loyal first to reason, and only secondarily to God.

But if, on the other hand, you choose to believe in God despite the lack of evidence, then your choice gains a new, heroic dimension, for you’re not doing so because of the dictates of reason and logic. Your choice proves that in that moment, you have the ultimate faith, a faith which subordinates reason to God, rather than God to reason. You’re saying that you trust God above and beyond the bounds of reason. While it’s good to use your brain and exercise your capacity for logical thinking, God is ultimately greater and more important.

Personally, I don’t believe there is evidence of God’s existence. But rather than state this from an atheistic perspective, I see this as a gift from God, for by hiding the evidence, he’s giving us a far greater and more faithful power to choose him, even when it may seem unreasonable to do so. And that act, that single choice, will bring you closer to him than reason or logic ever could.

Until next time, friends…

Since I’ll be out of town for the next two weeks, the next time you’ll hear from me will be three weeks from now. So I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and a very good New Year! I shall see thee in 2016!

Legalism or Self-Righteousness?

Hello, there! It’s kind of cool that it’s snowing right now; it makes me miss home, where there are often enormous piles of snow in the winter. But aren’t you in Texas? you may be asking. Indeed, there is no snow here. Rather, I was talking about the snow on the background of this very blog post! Do you see it?

Anyway, recently I found myself thinking about the culture of Israel during the time of Jesus. I know, we all think on such things, right? Well on this particular occasion, I thought about two of the primary Jewish sects that existed in that first century: the Sadducees and the Pharisees. While I thought of these, I began to think about the modern state of Christianity, and how we’re not so different from either of these long-forgotten forms of religiosity. But before I explain this, let me give you some details about them.

Sadducees

The Sadducees were an old sect when Jesus was born, with one theory pinning their start nearly five hundred years earlier, at the end of the Babylonian Exile. According to this theory, exiled Jews returned to their homeland sometime after 539BC, rebuilt their temple in Jerusalem and ousted the priests who had been serving there throughout the captivity. Thus, these forerunners of the Sadducees ran the show for five centuries (with many interruptions from foreign powers) and eventually became those leaders who ruled the Temple when Jesus visited it in his youth. Of course, since Rome was ruling Israel in Jesus’ time, the Sadducees had to get along with the Romans very nicely, so they were often seen by the common Jew as traitors colluding with the enemy of Israel. But the Sadducees ruled the only legitimate temple where sacrifices could be made to God, so the Jews had to put up with and obey them.

Theologically, the Sadducees were extremely conservative. They believed only in the Torah (the first five books of the Bible, from Genesis through Deuteronomy), rejecting all the prophetic, poetic and wisdom literature, as well as some of the more fantastical portions of the historical writings. As such, they also rejected the belief in things like angels, demons, the afterlife and the resurrection of the dead. Essentially, they believed in God and only what was said about him in the Torah, and absolutely nothing else.

Being in charge of the Temple, and believing in a strict adherence to the Levitical texts (especially those concerning purity and sacrifice), it’s likely that they engaged their faith in a highly legalistic sense: you do what the Torah says, to the strictest sense of the letter, and never deviate from it. But, as is often the case with legalists, a strict adherence to the letter of the law also leaves open the possibility of loopholes, and these are just what the Sadducees in Jesus’ time relied upon. For instance, when purchasing an animal to sacrifice in the Temple, one was required to buy it using “Temple Money,” which had an exorbitant exchange rate. Imagine, for instance, that you go went a movie theater, but were told that you had to pay for the $10 ticket in “theater bucks.” But the price of ten “theater bucks” would cost you $20. Suddenly, that ticket became twice as expensive, and the theater pocketed the overcharge. This is essentially what the Sadducees were doing in the Temple, and so Jesus’ outburst in the Temple courtyard, where he calls his father’s house a “den of robbers,” suddenly makes a lot more sense.

These very same Sadducees were the ones who put Jesus on trial, led by their high priest, Caiaphas. Fearing that Jesus’ teachings – and especially his violent outburst in the Temple – would make the Romans suspect insubordination on the part of the Jews, the Sadducees wanted Jesus eliminated. It was to please their pagan patrons, the Romans.

Pharisees

The Pharisees, by comparison, were a much younger and more liberal sect. Forming only about a hundred and fifty years before Jesus’ birth, they had little control over the Temple, instead dominating the Synagogues, or local places of Jewish worship and study. The Pharisees believed in all of the Old Testament, from Genesis through Malachi, and they had many more texts to explore as well, including apocrypha, commentaries and oral traditions. They believed in angels, demons and the resurrection of the dead, as well as prophecies and modern (in their time) miracles. But rather than take a legalistic approach to scripture, they were much more open to a variety of interpretations, seeing things as literal and/or symbolic, as well as drawing stories out for the sake of teaching lessons on wisdom, morality and righteous living.

In comparing their teachings with those of Jesus himself, there are some startling comparisons. The Pharisees were obsessed, it seems, with righteous living, with the cultivation of personal virtues, with living at peace with your neighbor and helping those in need. While their initial founding was a legalistic point (they began as a protest movement against a man who declared himself both high priest and king over Israel; they argued that he was wrong for the role since he wasn’t descended from King David), it seems that legalism wasn’t a defining characteristic of the sect.

Despite the similarities, however, they often butted heads with Jesus. Why was this? It seems that between the time of their founding and the time of Jesus’ ministry, their struggle for righteous living and virtuous character had devolved into a sense of self-righteousness and judgmentalism. In striving for righteousness, they’d psychologically dissociated themselves from regular Jews, and thus they came to regard them as more sinful, as inferior to these righteous men. Even Paul, the self-proclaimed “apostle to the Gentiles,” faced this struggle. Originally a Pharisee, his zeal for righteousness had turned him against his fellow Jews, and he carried that guilt for the rest of his life. When he met Jesus on the road to Damascus, it wasn’t just Jesus that he faced; it was his own sinfulness.

Those who faced off against Jesus, however, were unwilling to face their own sinfulness as Paul had, and that’s why, almost every time Jesus called them out, his chosen accusation was “hypocrites.” He was pointing out that their self-righteousness was not true righteousness, that in their judgment they were just as guilty as those they saw as inferior.

A Look at Today

So what we see when we look through the glass into those ancient days was a sect devoted to legalism (Sadducees) and a sect devoted to self-righteousness (Pharisees). Do we not see that in our churches today? There are many Christians who, led by their literal-approach-to-the-Bible pastors, hold a strictly legalistic faith. To them, doctrine rules all, and any deviation from the strict and literal interpretation of the Bible is enough to brand someone a heretic, damned and thrown from the church steps. Most cases are not that extreme, but I think there are a lot of us who are guilty of this to at least some degree, even if it’s something as small as taking a step back and distancing ourselves from those who read the Bible in ways which seem disagreeable to us. In those times, are we not putting our value on doctrine above loving our fellow human being? Are we not then committing the legalistic crime of the Sadducees?

On the flipside, we can sometimes focus so much on our own character and (here’s the danger) our own reputation that we begin to look down on those who are not as “spiritually mature” as we are. I work hard to avoid this, though I often make this mistake. But ask yourself if there’s not someone out there, or some group, that you see yourself as superior to. It could be lesser-involved people in your church, or perhaps people of a different denomination, or perhaps people who aren’t saved at all, or who have a different faith than you. In judging them, are we not committing the self-righteous crime of the Pharisees?

Personally, I think I’m a bit closer to the Pharisee side of things. I struggle vehemently with a judgmental attitude, which is the probable reason why I hate the behavior in others. Seeing that sin in others reminds me that I have it in myself. But like Paul on the road to Damascus, I need to focus on the light of Christ, hoping that it will blind my judgmental eyes until I’m capable of seeing others the way God sees them. So to which sect do you identify?

Until next time, friends…

The Propensity for Fanaticism

(Introductory salutation, indicating my welcoming of you to this current blog post) I hope your weekend was enjoyable and eventful, or relaxing, depending on what you were going for.

In my most recent blog post, I discussed the mistake we often make of arguing against something so ardently that, as Christians, we begin to forget exactly what it is we stand for. This is a dangerous behavior, not only because it makes us into a bad representation of Christ, but because it makes us as blindly wrong and guilty as those against whom we’re arguing. The primary example I used was an internet meme which sought to prove that Jesus was not a conservative Republican. The issue I took was that the creator of that meme went too far and made Jesus out to be a liberal Democrat, which he most assuredly was not. So if we establish that the mistake was overlaying Christ with a modern stereotype, then the creator of the meme argued so hard against it that they ended up inadvertently doing that very thing!

With that in mind, I’d like to press onward and describe what the ultimate ramifications are of such behavior. When we, as believers, become an oppositional force, standing against this or that side in regard to this or that topic, we tend to lost sight of that which is most important: God’s loving and forgiving nature. While it may be true that the Bible condemns homosexuality, how is hating or condemning homosexuals an accurate reflection of Christ’s character? Does condemning the rich for earning their keep, or condemning the poor due to the idea that they’re lazy actually do anything to express the love of humanity for which Christ died? I don’t think so. But does this mean that truth must be squelched by tolerant love? No, for you can still share truth with people without judging or condemning them. It’s not about telling them the blind truth, but about telling them the truth which the Holy Spirit decides they most pertinently need to hear.

Truth is a good thing; don’t think I’m saying otherwise. But when we overemphasize it at the expense of love, then what have we accomplished? What good comes from an inappropriate honesty which crushes souls? If we forget to keep love at the center, then that desire for truth will become an excuse to continue hating, and hatred is prone to quick mutations into inhuman behavior.

When we allow our opposition to foment into hatred, then we get the manifestations of racism, sexism, hostility and pitiless violence. From this come genocides and wars, Nazis, ISIS and the Westboro Baptists, terrorists and zealots who believe themselves justified in murder, mayhem and devastation. We, as Christians, should not think that we’re immune to this tendency, for we have historically been as guilty as the rest. Religion, when it becomes infiltrated by this hatred, mutates into something monstrous. This has also happened with atheism, as the French Revolution and the Soviet Union can attest. This is because hatred owes no loyalty; hatred corrupts purely, pushing the followers of any way into fanaticism, and when one becomes a fanatic, then it becomes impossible to love that which is different.

But Christ loved that which was different. He was not infected with the mindless hatred that threatens to overtake us when we stand as an oppositional force. So in the end, I find myself thinking that if opposition leads so easily into hatred, wouldn’t it make the most sense to avoid this trap altogether, and show those with whom we disagree that our disagreement doesn’t keep us from loving them?

Until next time, friends…

Religious Opposition

Hello and salutations. Recently, I was on Facebook (an addiction which many of us definitely need to curb) and an old classmate of mine shared this interesting meme, which got me thinking. Go ahead and give it a look before I discuss it.

At first, after reading this, I rejoiced and thought to myself, of course Jesus wasn’t a conservative Republican! What a great way of explaining away the conservative stereotypes about him! But then, as I began to look more critically at the list of claims applied to him, I started to see some discrepancies. For instance, Jesus never expressed any sort of colonial/anti-colonial sentiment, nor did he teach socialism. And racial equality was never relevant to his core message. That’s not to say those things aren’t relevant components of our social consciences these days; rather, those issues were merely peripheral and not pertinent to his message of love and reconciliation with each other, and devotion to God.

From these observations, I began to develop a secondary view of this meme. You see, in all honesty, Jesus was not a conservative Republican. But neither was he a liberal Democrat. He was, quite simply (and actually so much more radically complex) Christ. In trying to argue against conservativism, the creator of this meme inadvertently took it to the opposite extreme and ended up making the same mistakes as those against whom they were initially arguing! Basically, they made the mistake of trying to overlay a human-derived system upon the creator of humanity, and that is the very thing they started out arguing against! I’m sorry if I’m losing you, here; I’m almost losing myself.

So what is the deeper, underlying message of what I’m trying to say here? Surely, it can’t be a simple rant about an online meme, for there are probably millions of memes out there which are total trash. No, what I’m getting at is the dangerous compulsion to define one’s faith in Christ by what one stands against. This very moment, I can’t turn on my newsfeed without seeing some new article about Kim Davis, who gained notoriety for citing religious reasons in order to not do her job. And what’s the backlash from this news fiasco? People see us Christians as oppressive, as against this or that, as those who oppose the advancement of knowledge and culture. The dangerous thing about this is that by defining ourselves by what we stand against, we lose sight of what we stand for. In recent talks with my own grandmother, I’ve heard her repeatedly talk about political issues that anger her and claim that, as Christians, “we have to take a stand!” While I earnestly love my grandmother, I unfortunately no longer have a clear idea of what she actually believes; I know only what she opposes.

As I said, when we define ourselves and our faith as an oppositional force to this or that social or political hot button, then we ultimately lose sight of those things which we stand for, and the love for which we should stand gets lost, giving the appearance of angry curmudgeons. Now while I love the word “curmudgeon,” I certainly don’t want to be one. But the issue doesn’t stop there: when we lose sight of what we stand for, we find ourselves changing, and before we know it, we’ve become as guilty as those against whom we’ve struggled. When a man gets angry and strikes you, your first inclination (as a man) is to stand up in order to rectify this great injustice. So you strike him back, inadvertently becoming as guilty as he is. But if you instead turn your cheek and allow him to strike you again, not only have you saved yourself from that same guilt, but you may have shown him how to change his own ways. When we stand against an enemy and strike them back, we’ve shown them no love, no loyalty to Christ, who we claim to represent. But when we pray for our enemies, when we show them love and seek after reconciliation, then not only have we properly shown Christ, but we’ve saved ourselves from that same guilt which we see written on our enemies’ hearts. Perhaps, by a loving response, rather than an oppositional one, we can show them how to wash that guilt away.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I discuss the most dangerous result of religious opposition!

A Desire For Humble Unity

Salutations, readers! I hope this day greets you well.

I have, for the most part, refused to take sides on the current Supreme Court issue regarding same-sex marriage. While a nationwide ruling concerning the legality of almost any sort of marriage runs contrary to my political beliefs, there’s something deeper in this issue, a sort of alienation and demonization of each side by the other. Pro-gay advocates have taken this opportunity to openly attack those who hold to Biblically-based heterosexuality, while anti-gay advocates have released staggering condemnations upon those who apply what I sometimes call the “Skittles Filter” on Facebook. But at the heart of this is a startling self-righteousness in which both sides are guilty of misunderstanding the true Spirit of the Bible, and this is where I find my true offense. So let me lay out clearly what I see as the issue with each side. But before I do, I want to encourage you to read both sections of what I wrote, not just one. If you ignore one of my arguments and try to utilize the other to justify your own, I fear you may be validating the one you ignore, and I don’t want that for you. After all, we must first recognize the log in our own eyes before pointing out the sawdust in the eyes of others.

To the Pro-Gays

I’ve heard a number of arguments from the pro-gay camp concerning Biblical interpretation. Some are as mild and lazy as “God wouldn’t condemn love, since he’s a loving God” (a view which didn’t save the first child of King David and Bathsheba in 2^nd Samuel 12), or “people shouldn’t deny who they truly are” (an argument which is hypocritically restricted from some of society’s more dangerous or taboo criminals, like pedophiles and sociopaths). But over these arguments, I’ve seen a more scripturally-based attack which goes as follows: restrictions on homosexual behavior are among the Levitical laws –> Christians don’t follow most of the Levitical laws anymore –> therefore, Christians can’t say homosexual behaviors are wrong without being hypocritical. Some have even made the further argument that since Jesus never mentions homosexuality, there is therefore nothing wrong with it.

The problem with this line of reasoning is that it ignores the history of theological development in the Christian church. Contrary to what some may claim, Christianity is not based purely on the teachings of Christ. Much of our theology was further developed by the teachings of his followers – the Apostles – and then furthermore by their own disciples down through the centuries. This fact is crucial. You see, in the days immediately after Jesus, when Christianity was spreading like wildfire across the Roman Empire, there was a great controversy over whether or not Christian converts should obey the original Levitical commands which applied to all Jews. Some of the apostles said no (chief among them, Paul) and others said yes, while some rode the fence (Peter, “the cornerstone of the church,” originally said yes but later changed his mind after receiving a vision in Acts 10). Ultimately, this became such a divisive issue that the Jerusalem Council (the Christian core at that time) issued a decree that all Gentile converts to Christianity need not follow the Levitical laws; instead, they must hold to the following code of ethics:

1. They should not eat meat sacrificed to idols.
2. They should abstain from sexual immorality.
3. They should not eat the meat of anything which has been strangled.
4. They should not drink blood.

So aside from worshipping the God of Israel exclusively, and accepting Christ (you can’t be Christian without Christ), Gentile Christians were only to hold to these four mandates. This is why we, the spiritual descendants of those converts, need not follow the original Levitical laws. But for the sake of this current discussion, we must focus on point number 2: they should abstain from sexual immorality. Does that refer to homosexual behaviors? Or does that simply refer to rape, incest and other, more heinous crimes? Unfortunately for the pro-gay camp, this letter was penned by Jewish Christians, and the mandate is therefore to be understood in a strictly Jewish context. When read in that context, homosexual behavior is a form of sexual immorality. Thus, it is not unbiblical for Christians to view homosexual behavior as sinful. You can see it right there in Acts 15, the full explanation for why we can eat bacon and yet must still abstain from homosexual behaviors.

The last thing I’ll talk about on this side of the debate is the writings of Paul. Indeed, Paul condemns homosexual behavior more than any other Biblical writer. And why is that? Some have pointed out that he frequently preached in Greek cities, and in ancient Greece, homosexual behavior was almost the natural way of life. But America isn’t ancient Greece, so does that mean Paul’s words don’t apply now? Absolutely not. After all, if you go to a den of thieves and condemn thievery, that doesn’t mean thievery is okay elsewhere. It just means it’ll be the hot topic in that locale. So by all counts, the Bible does affirm that homosexual behavior is sinful and wrong. But please, keep reading, because it does get better.

To the Anti-Gays

One part of Christianity is recognizing what is and is not sinful. That is indeed true. However, when asked which commandment is greatest, Jesus replied with the chief 2: to love the Lord with all you are, and to love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22, Mark 12, Luke 10). That does not mean you simply love the righteous, for there is none righteous. All are covered by the grace of Christ, and so we should respond with love and honor toward others, even if they are others with which we disagree. It is not our job to judge or to condemn, only to love. I know this sounds real fluffy (trust me, I have issues with fluffy words), so I have a more logical way of describing it.

The scriptures which denounce homosexual behavior are part of our religious heritage, a deeply-rooted part of our faith’s code of ethics. But those outside the church do not live by that code of ethics. Indeed, our country was founded on the principles of religious freedom. This does not mean it’s a Christian nation and we’re free to choose our denomination (as some have mistakenly claimed), but, rather, we are free to choose our religion and practice it freely, or not at all. This isn’t just a country guaranteeing freedom to Christians, but also to Jews, to Muslims, to Hindus, to Sikhs and to atheists and agnostics. The Constitution assures every citizen that they need not abide by the Christian code of ethics, but merely by the Constitution’s. Think of it this way: suppose you work for a company, let’s call it “Goog-Mart.” Now, being an employee of Goog-Mart, you are required to abide by the company’s policies as established by its founder. Would it be reasonable of you to get mad at customers and other non-employees for not abiding by Goog-Mart’s corporate policy? Of course not! You can’t expect non-employees to obey company policy, even if you’ve explained it to them.

Thus, the job of the Christian is not to convince outsiders to obey our code of ethics; instead, our job is to get people to join the company. We need to get people into Goog-Mart – er, church – so that they can know its great and loving founder. Through love – and not condemnation – I believe we can get people on the path that we’ve already discovered, a path that leads toward the sanctifying grace of God.

Now who in their right mind will get on a path occupied by angry, condemning, judgmental, self-righteous and proud people? What will condemnation and angry, self-righteous tirades accomplish? Judgment is not the way to bring people into the fold. It didn’t work for Paul in Acts 24, and it certainly won’t work for you now. Instead, let love and an open door welcome them inside. You don’t have to condone homosexual behavior, but neither is it your job to condemn it. It’s only your job to help that person get to know Christ, and in so doing, let him do the necessary work inside them. If you do this, then you’ll learn how to love people, even if you disagree with them.

Now this love brings me to a final point. You may have noticed that I’ve used the phrase “homosexual behavior,” not “homosexuality” in relevant parts of this post. I’m not seeking some sort of political correctness. Rather, what I mean is that homosexuality (the state of being homosexual, feeling homosexual urges and the like) is not, itself, wrong. The Spirit of the Bible, as well as much theology regarding sin and guilt, presents the case that it is not wrong. It is only homosexual behaviors (that is, the following through on those urges, the engagement in acts which are Biblically-defined as sexually immoral) which are wrong. Thus, a homosexual who commits to a life of abstinence is not sinning in being homosexual. It is not a sin to be gay, and we should never think it so. Furthermore, any sins a gay person commits are no worse than the sins we all commit, so a condemnation of someone entirely, of their whole character, is indefatigably vile. Thus, we can love the sinner, but not the sin. That is, in fact, what we should be doing, and we are not bigots, judges or hypocrites for doing so. We’re merely following the way outlined by our spiritual heritage.

Closing Thoughts

So what can we take from these two discussions? Certainly, I’ve given good fodder to either side to be used against the other. But that would only exacerbate the deeper problem: a dissociation between those who should be sharing in the cup of fellowship. Rather than condemning the other side (pro-gay if you’re anti-gay, and anti-gay if you’re pro-gay), we should extend invitations to them. I have friends who are pro-gay, even though I’m not. I have family members who are condemnatory of gays, while I am not. Does that mean that I should condemn and break ties with those individuals? By no means! Instead, I should continue the fellowship, knowing that disagreements mean nothing; conciliatory love, unyielding friendship and joyful fellowship, those mean everything.

Until next time, friends…

Trying My Best

Good afternoon, friendly readers! I hope the weekend treated you well. Personally, I went to a Renaissance Fair with my wife and a friend and I came back with a scroll that I’m excited about. I think I’ll fill it with my cosmology when I find the time; that way, it’ll contain something both fantastical and true.

But what I’d really like to talk about today is a story that we’re currently covering in BSF, a weekly Bible study program that my wife and I are attending. In this story – found in Numbers 22-24, then again briefly in chapter 31 – Balaam is a prophet who is charged by Balak, king of Moab, to curse the Israelites so that they (the Moabites) won’t be crushed by the encroaching Israelite force. Balaam tries, but each time he goes to speak with God, God instructs him to instead bless the Israelites. This happens multiple times: Balak asks Balaam to curse the Israelites, Balaam blesses them instead, Balak gets mad. Now from this story, I was convinced that Balaam was a good and faithful guy, always obedient to the desires of God. God says don’t curse the Israelites, but bless them, and even when Balak offers the prophet great riches and power, Balaam steadfastly obeys the commands of God.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t end there. After Balak angrily turns and refuses to pay Balaam, Balaam speaks to the Israelites and convinces them to intermarry with the Moabites, which ultimately leads those Israelites to sacrifice to the idols and deities of Moab. This issue gets worse, and Israel tries to stamp it out with executions while God lets loose a plague upon the Israelites, but nothing seems to work until one man takes a spear and uses it to kill one Israelite while he’s with a Midianite woman (the Midianites had allied with Moab when first seeking out Balaam). In response to this dramatic act, God’s plague stops and the Israelites turn from the Moabite and Midianite distractions. Moab seems to survive but things don’t go well with their allies, as the Midianites are immediately decimated by the Israelites. It is during this last act that the prophet, Balaam, loses his life.

This was initially hard for me to swallow. After all, how could Balaam obey God and bless Israel – even in the face of a king offering him riches to do the contrary – and then turn around and corrupt those very Israelites who he blessed? And how could the Israelites decimate Midian, the very people who took Moses in after he fled Egypt, and the very people who gave Moses his wife, Zipporah? I think Balaam’s story is so striking because we read of a man of powerful faith, of unbridled, bold loyalty to God who fell from that very faith. Was Balaam bad from the start, and only eventually his character became revealed? Or was he always good and just had one slip-up, one moment of bad judgment which cost him his life? And what of Midian? It seems, interestingly, that Balaam is like a case study of what happened in Midian: he did good (just as the Midianites did in taking in Moses) but eventually became lost and turned away from God (like the Midianites did in allying with Moab).

We in the Christian church do this too often today. We choose our heroes of the faith, our pastors, mega-pastors, our experienced missionaries or pillars of the community and we elevate them, treating them like perfect examples of what a Christian is supposed to be. We balk at the idea that they can do evil, that they can speak evil or have any lapse in judgment. And then, if they fall, we are crushed. I’ve seen a church nearly abandoned because the lead pastor fell into the temptation of an extra-marital affair. I’ve seen worship leaders booted out the door for not being what their families needed them to be. I’ve seen former pastors demonized for straying from the faith.

There almost seems to be a mindset where we just need to get people saved and then move on. But when we do this, and we don’t continue trying to help and guide new Christians, or we don’t try and help old Christians to keep growing, then we shouldn’t be surprised if they follow a path away from the faith. In college one year, I witnessed a religious debate between the associate pastor of a church I was attending and the leader of an atheist movement, a man who in years past had been a devout Christian pastor.

Of course, there is the story of the fall from Heaven. While most of the story of the devil’s fall is actually not in the Bible (and our traditional beliefs are highly influenced by the 17^th Century novel, Paradise Lost), there is enough for scholars to piece together a loose narrative. Satan was not always a bad guy. In the Old Testament, he only ever appeared as a being called The Satan (pronounced Sah-tahn). The Satan was an angel (not a bad one) whose job was simply and purely to test people in order to ensure that their faith was genuine. He is the one appearing in the book of Job, a good angel who sees the human Job as an opportunity to do what he was made to do: to put human faith to the test. He wasn’t evil in testing Job, and that’s why he’s never punished in its conclusion. But about four centuries before Christ’s birth – in the time after the end of the Old Testament – writings began to show up in a Jewish settlement called Qumran, writings describing an enigmatic “Angel of Darkness.” Ideas about this mysterious entity varied wildly, but eventually, beliefs about him began conforming into our modern idea of the Devil. And, sadly enough, The Satan became merged with him and has ever since become synonymous with God’s enemy. So setting linguistics and context aside, we could almost argue that The Satan fell: once a good angel simply doing the duty prescribed to him, then expelled from God’s domain as a rebel. He was an extreme example of Balaam, who was, himself, a specific example of the Midianites.

Now this all seems pretty negative. People are faithful to God, then they turn from the faith. If I left things there, Christianity would seem very bleak. So we mustn’t forget those who’ve done the exact opposite, like Rahab the harlot. Famous for her role in the siege of Jericho, Rahab was a prostitute and not an Israelite. Yet when the Israelites came to scout out the fortified city of Jericho, she offered them help and even saved their lives. As a result, the Israelites spies escaped with enough information for Jericho to be overthrown. Rahab survived, joined Israel and even achieved a spot in King David’s lineage. That means Jesus, being a direct descendant of David, can count Rahab, the prostitute turned faithful-Israelite, as one of his ancestors, too.

And, of course, there’s the powerful Medean King Cyrus. More known outside the Bible than inside, he is nevertheless praised in the scriptures, for he liberated the Jews from Babylonian captivity in 539 B.C. Cyrus even went so far as to allow the Jews to return to their prized city of Jerusalem and rebuild. Despite not being among God’s chosen people, the words Isaiah uses to describe him in Isaiah 44-45 can be likened to those which describe the great King David himself.

And should we not mention the atheist-turned-evangelist, C.S. Lewis? Or the serial-killer-turned-Christian, Jeffrey Dahmer? Or Lee Strobel, who turned a case against Christianity into a powerful apologetic for it? Could we leave out Emperor Constantine, who Christianized ancient Rome? And what of Paul, the anti-Christian Pharisee who is counted as one of the most influential Christians the world has ever known?

What I think we need to do is not to label people from the start, saying that this person is good and that person is evil. A professor of mine once said that if we call someone evil, we limit their capacity to do good, and if we label someone as good, we blind ourselves to their capacity for evil. Martin Luther King, Junior once said that there is “evil in the best of us, and good in the worst of us.” We should stop labeling someone as evil or good because humans have the capacity to change, to become better or worse than they are. I believe that it’s our job, as Christians, to help everyone along the good path to God – regardless of how good or evil we perceive them to be – as we, ourselves, also strive toward that blessed goal. It’s what we were called here to do. So what about you: are you good, evil, or simply trying your best?

Until next time, friends…

Young Jacob’s Friend

Long ago lived a younger man

who fought with God, but they stayed friends.

Each day they grew, more distance ‘part,

the Lord, his wisdom did impart.

But at last their attempts to stay as friends,

Marched sadly to the end.

—

In his old age, young Jacob cried,

“I wish to Lord I hadn’t lied.

Now despite fam’ I’m lonely still,

and alone, to ash my bones will.”

—

But his young daughter, Beth by name,

she had a boy, more than the same,

a glowing child laid on the hay

where the lowliest creatures did as they may.

He grew and spoke such words as none

his mother, father, family’d done.

Then when he reached young Jacob’s age,

he brought the God and set the way,

the God that poor young Jacob lost,

now had come to save the lost.

He’d never truly gone away,

but waited for a darker day.

Across the river, through the land,

he led his ancient faithful band.

And now to this, new, younger kin,

he’d come to reconcile again.

—

No more blood and no more pain,

all done away upon the grain.

But no one knew how deep engrained,

in that moment was God’s own pain.

—

He came and left to come someday,

and unto that we look today.

But we shouldn’t simply wait ‘til then,

for we can share his love with them.

Those who turned and lost their way,

will follow torches lit our way.

And when at last that boy returns,

he’ll see, in this world, love burns.

—

And now young Jacob smiles upon,

the boy that his young Beth did spawn,

the boy that links both God and him,

a boy who bridges worlds within.

But now he sleeps among the sheep

to show us he is not too deep

to humble us and make us strong

and show us where we all belong.

Until next time, friends…

Superior Three – Inner Dialogues

Today, I would like to share with you one of my personal struggles regarding superiority. Superiority, as I’ve tried to explain in previous blog posts, paints the world of our relationships with others. People seek dominance over each other, or they feel crushed by the weight of inferiority. These are definite inhibitors to healthy relationships with others, because each of you may try to “one-up” the other, or establish yourself as a superhero, thus devaluing the other to nothing more than a sidekick in your life. To get past this, we must see other people as equals with ourselves, as dynamic people who possess both good and bad qualities, just as each of us have good and bad qualities. I had been convinced for a long while that merely recognizing this can inhibit my grasps at superiority over others, but it seems to be a more difficult process than I thought.

You see, I’ve recognized a certain behavior in myself that I don’t particularly like. I mostly carry this behavior on while I’m at work, since my job is primarily a physical job, leaving my mind to wander where it may. And oftentimes, my mind creates these scenarios in which I’m conversing with someone or other that I know. In these conversations, the other person always says the wrong thing, the incorrect, unfactual or downright spiteful thing. And I, being the positive, Godly Christian in these imaginings, always correct them or tell them off, being proven right in my own logic and faith. Thus, they are shamed for the greater good, or so it seems.

But alas, this is a core issue when it comes to superiority. Instead of seeing people in person and behaving with a grasp at superiority, I build up my own daydreams peppered with things that these people never actually say, thus moving from an outward superiority to an inward, mental superiority. I’ve essentially done exactly what I say not to do, only inside my own head. This is wrong, my friends. These daydreams are an attempt to establish, once again, that I am superior to this inferior who challenges me in an argument. Such egotism on my part. However, I don’t feel ashamed by this behavior. Instead, I see it as an opportunity for growth, a recognition of a bad spiritual practice which I can now work with, confront and ultimately try and discern a way to really, truly grow out of this superiority complex in which we’re all trapped. While I don’t know exactly how to circumvent this behavior now, I will definitely be brainstorming ways to get out of it. And I feel confident that if I can inhibit this behavior in myself, I will be one step closer to ultimately destroying the superior/inferior complex in myself once and for all. I need to pray for God’s guidance in this matter, for his wisdom is beyond our own.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I’ll talk a little bit about time travel!

Superior Two

Not terribly long ago, I began a monologue about the notions of superiority and inferiority (Superior One). I made the claim that people today are ingrained with desires for superiority, that cliques are formed or loneliness justified by thinking of oneself, or one’s home group, as superior to all others. As a counter to this, I suggested seeking out the good in others, trying to identify and appreciate their talents in order to bypass the superior/inferior conundrum and see others in a stance of equality.

Now I wish to discuss the opposite side of the superior/inferior coin: our own fear of inferiority. While we often justify our actions and behaviors in terms of trying to feel superior to others, the fear of inferiority can be an equally powerful motivator. In trying to not feel inferior, we change aspects of ourselves, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. This can be beneficial when it forces us to grow, but sometimes it forces us to abandon ideas, notions and talents which ought not to be abandoned. The fear of feeling inferior can have consequences just as bad as can the desire to feel superior.

While in high school, I was once standing with a group of friends and classmates. One fellow student told a joke and, as a result, everyone began to laugh uproariously. Everyone, that is, but me; I simply didn’t understand it. Within moments, everyone had realized this and begun to laugh at me as well as the joke. Ashamed, I walked away and ate quietly the rest of the lunch period. Later on, I broached the subject of the joke with some of the people from the group, and on an individual basis, they each admitted to me that they hadn’t understood it any more than I had, but they hadn’t wanted to appear dumb, so they’d played along.

Do you often play along for the sake of not appearing inferior? If so, then I hate to call you out on it for the sake of feeling superior (I wish to avoid such a feeling, as much as my own egotistical desires want it), but that is not living honestly. My advice is to admit your own shortcomings. Even if others look down on you for it, that doesn’t make you any less of a person, it doesn’t diminish your own talents and worth; it simply allows others to feel superior. But in so doing, it forces you to become more honest, more sincere, more respectable a person rooted in the truth of your own identity.

And instead of pretending in order to avoid inferiority, use those moments of social shame in two ways: one, use them to become stronger and show that you truly don’t care what others think of you, for your own worth should be based on your opinions of yourself, not those of others; and two, use them to better yourself. If someone says something you don’t understand, don’t pretend to understand it and risk further shame if found out. Instead, admit you don’t understand it but take the time later on to learn the subject. Or if you’re bad at something, take the time later on to practice and develop those skills. In doing so, you actually turn the whole inferiority complex on its head, for instead of faking superiority or, in the least, normalcy, you use the feelings of inferiority to establish both who you are and force yourself to grow, as long as you don’t get rid of your innate talents and beliefs in the process. Trust me, you will be the better person for it.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I take a lesser-known werewolf movie (Skinwalkers) and show how it may, just possibly, be a metaphor for the Christian faith!