Which God?

This blog has been particularly inactive lately. However, this quotation excited me, so here it is.

First a little context: a few weeks I was having a rather enjoyable debate with my brothers (one of whom has also quit blogging here) in which I was arguing that some of our ideas about what God has done in eternity should actually be understood as having occurred within history. Thus, Reformed people traditionally conceive of the "Book of Life" as having been authored by God from eternity; furthermore, they argue, the names in that book cannot be added to nor taken from. This strict predestination theology is somewhat complicated by the scriptural image of God blotting out names from his book (Ex 32:33: "Whoever has sinned against me I will blot out of my book"). Anyways, that is just one example. I wanted to generalize: the God we meet in Scripture is far more often immanent than He is transcendent; indeed, a lot of the doctrines we associate with his eternal transcendence (election) are often connected to his immanence in Scripture, i.e. to his ongoing relationship with his people in history rather than his decree from eternity.

This is all very controversial stuff, and I probably didn't do a very good job (at the time) articulating what I meant. So here is a great quote from a new book, Unlocking Romans, by J.R. Daniel Kirk.

Influenced as it has been by the Greek philosophical tradition, the church throughout the centuries has often articulated an understanding of God under heavy influence from Plato's god of ideal form and perfect moral goodness and from Aristotle's unmoved mover. We thus find Augustine asking, "What then are you, O my God?" and giving a list of attributes that includes "Most high, most excellent, most potent, most omnipotent . . . unchangeable, yet changing all things; never new, never old." . . . Centuries later, we find the British Reformed tradition giving this definition of God: "What is God? God is a spirit; infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in his being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth" (WSC Q&A 4). Not only do these Christian definitions, like their Greek philosophical counterparts, all focus on a g/God who is wholly other, they also define God in universal terms without reference to the story of Israel.

In the Scriptures of Israel, however, God's identity is inseparable from a particular people and from certain actions performed on behalf of that people. God is not known in universal abstract qualities but in limiting and particular actions. The question in the Scriptures seems to be less What is God? but rather Who is God? or perhaps Which God? The God of Israel is known through that God's commitment to and actions among a particular people. . . . Unlike the Greek counterparts, Jewish definitions of God look to the sphere of the particular and enmesh the identity of God within the scandalously singular notion of election. The God of Israel's Scriptures is the God who, though Lord over all things, has chosen to disclose himself and make his name known to the world through one particular people. In this choosing he bound himself in covenant and promised that this people would be the epicenter both of YHWH's self-disclosure and of this God's blessings to humanity. (Unlocking Romans, 1-2).

Sounds like a fascinating read.

In my current thesis research, I am looking at whether Second Temple Judaism (i.e. "inter-testamental" Judaism) had a missionary character. Did it seek to win converts in the way early Christianity did (and does it thus provide the explanation for the explosion of Christianity)? A book I'm reading on the issue is Land, Center, and Diaspora: Jewish Constructs in Late Antiquity by Isaiah Gafni. He begins,

One of the outstanding features of Jewish history in the Second Temple period was the emergence of a widespread and thriving Jewish diaspora, functioning alongside a large and for a time politically independent Jewish community in the Land of Israel. This duality of Jewish existence would reappear only in modern times, with the gradual realization of the Zionist enterprise. Indeed, it would be a fair guess that many of the questions of self-identity so commonly heard among contemporary diaspora Jews might not have sounded all that strange to the ears of a Jew residing in first-century Alexandria. One major distinction, however, separates contemporary Jews from our Second Temple forerunners: while the former enjoy the luxury of a historical precedent for the diaspora phenomenon, with all its ensuing explanations and rationalizations, Jews of the Second Temple period did not. The diaspora phenomenon in Second Temple times was a new reality in Israelite existence; it had no real precedent to relate to, during which ideologies would have been formulated to explain the ongoing dispersion and thereby help diaspora Jews to understand the meaning of their continuing presence outside the Land of Israel. (19)

Gafni again brings attention to something that in its simplicity is often overlooked in the literature, the fact of the diaspora. Why has only Judaism been able to flourish and thrive as a self-defined community in the midst of foreign cultures for the past 2500 years? The diaspora, or dispersion, began way back in 597 and 587 BC(E) with the exiles to Babylon. But, of course, Nebuchadnezzar displaced many peoples, the rest of whom were unable to maintain a coherent self-identity in a foreign land. Assimilation has been the rule for virtually every other conquered culture in history. North American aboriginal peoples might provide a counter-example here; but their segregation has been enforced by the colonial power. In the case of Judaism, the colonizer attempted an assimilation, but the Jews resisted.

However, the diaspora did not end with Ezra and Nehemiah's return to the land in 515. Most of the exiles remained in Babylon, and a Jewish community thrived there for centuries. Furthermore, in the Hellenistic world, Jewish communities took root in Alexandria, in Syria and all over the Greco-Roman world. Some of these began with captives, but many were also the result of voluntary emigration - a unique historical phenomenon in the ancient world.

There are two ways theologically of accounting for exile. The first, and dominant way of interpreting these events, is to see exile as a curse. The Jews lived scattered among the nations because of their disobedience to God - that is why the original exile occurred. The continued disobedience of Israel was preventing her national restoration: hence the zeal of a Saul of Tarsus to bring aberrant Jews such as the nascent Christian community into line.

The second is as a blessing. The exile, which began as a result of disobedience, paradoxically becomes the means by which Jews can be a light to the nations. It is very interesting that in the New Testament, the situation of "exile" is applied to Christians who are not "home." Peter addresses his readers as "God's elect, strangers in the world." James writes to the "twelve tribes scattered among the nations." Being in exile is no longer a punishment for sin, but is a sign that one is part of a new kingdom, a heavenly one. The theological development from the Old Testament to the New is significant here. It goes hand-in-hand with the New Covenant's de-emphasis on the physical land of Israel and the extension of the gospel to the Gentiles. Hence the zeal of Paul the apostle to the Gentiles to call the entire world to the obedience of faith. Acts clearly portrays Paul's missionary endeavours as beginning with the synagogue in every community. In a remarkable way, the spread of Christianity began with the Jewish diaspora of the Hellenistic world. But it was based on a theological shift: an understanding that the Messiah had come, had inaugurated his kingdom, and now all peoples were called not to the physical land of Israel, but to the one people of God all over the earth.

The modern phenomenon of Zionism needs to be understood in terms of the tension between the Land and the diaspora. For almost two millenia, most Jews lived in "Christendom." However, it was ultimately the failure of the diaspora to provide a safe context for them - the Nazi genocide was the culmination of a history of pogroms against Jews in Europe - that led to a renewed Zionism. Because of the failure of Christianity with respect to the Jews, the Jewish state was born. The diaspora was reversed. Unfortunately, as the recent events in Gaza make clear, the jury is still out as to whether the Jews, in returning to the Land of Israel, have found a safer home.

Read this Fox News Report: Son of Hamas Leader Turns Back on Islam and Embraces Christianity.

Incredible.

Advent Reflections

One of my favourite stories in the gospels is this one:

When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask him, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" Jesus replied, "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me." (Mt 11:2-6, cf Lk 7:18-23).

Think about what is happening here: we are privy to a conversation between the last prophet of the Old Covenant and the Messiah himself, who is bringing in the New Covenant (v.12, "the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing"). This is the only time we hear of them talking since the events around Jesus' baptism. And this conversation (which occurs by means of John's messengers) reflects both the expectation and yearning for the Messiah and the misunderstanding of who Jesus really was. Being human, we can identify with both the expectation and the confusion, and that is really why I love this little story so much.

[As an aside, the church fathers couldn't really handle this passage. They interpreted it in every possible way to avoid the implication that one as great as John the Baptist would have doubted. So, he sent his disciples with this question in order to teach them that Jesus was in fact the Messiah. But that's not the way messengers work in the world of the Bible. Messengers represent and speak for those by whom they are sent (incidentally, that is why the "angel of the LORD" in the OT so often has divine characteristics). And here, Jesus is explicit: "Go and tell John what you see and hear."]

Is John the Baptist, the greatest prophet of the Old Covenant (cf. v.11), allowed to doubt? I think so, and I think there's a wonderfully comforting message in that for all of us faltering Christians who simply don't have it all figured out. But look at John's question more closely, and you will see that not doubt is the focus, but poignant expectation: "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" In Greek, "the one who was to come" is one word, and basically serves as a title. "The Coming One" would perhaps be a better translation. Imagine living daily in the expectation that God's promises would be fulfilled, that Messiah was coming, that the present suffering would be overturned and a glorious age ushered in. At Advent, we need to recapture some of this expectation. Jesus still is "the Coming One"; indeed, it is remarkable that God has had his people both in the Old Covenant and the New live in a posture of expectancy and hope. We wait in hope for the LORD; we live as an expectant people.

Our present society has lost all sense of expectation, or of a more glorious world to come (think of Samuel Becket's Waiting for Godot, which serves as a counterpoint to Matthew 11 - Godot never comes). This is why Christmas has become a mad rush for the present. We live for each day; we turn Christmas into gifts and booze and anything that can satiate our present existence, all without a thought for the future. This, incidentally, is also what makes evangelism so difficult. Paul had it tough, yes; but when he walked into a synagogue and announced that Jesus was the Messiah and he had come, there was a cultural context in which this message made sense. People were living in expectation; they were waiting for something to happen - and when it did, they were ready to hear. A challenge for us today: how do we bring the message of Messiah's coming to our culture, in a way that doesn't sound hopelessly out of touch?

Back to the passage. John also asks, "or should we expect someone else?" Why another? Why did John have doubts in Jesus? Well, the fact that he was in prison may have had something to do with it. The Messiah was going to drive out the Romans and establish God's rule, and his herald is in prison? Things are not off to a good start. Then there is a more general problem with what Jesus was doing: preaching, teaching, healing, bringing a party wherever he went (v.19, "The Son of Man came eating and drinking"). What sort of Messiah was this?

Here is something else to ponder: when God arrives, will our expectations be confirmed? Will we know what he looks like? It seems almost a divine irony that God had his people wait and wait, but when Messiah came, they didn't recognize him! The child who counts the "sleeps" until her birthday knows that on that day, there will be presents and a celebration. But God's people, living in expectation, didn't quite know what they were waiting for.

Jesus thus pronounces a blessing on those who do not stumble at his humble and weak character: "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me." Interestingly, the blessing is put in a negative form, indicating that the natural human reaction to Jesus Christ is falling away. He's not a superhero; he's not the vigilante crusader restoring order and justice to the streets of Gotham or Jerusalem. But he is restoring order and justice, God's style. In the next chapter, Matthew quotes the prophet Isaiah in describing the sort of Messiah that Jesus was.

Many followed him, and he healed all their sick, warning them not to tell who he was. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah:
"Here is my servant whom I have chosen,
the one I love, in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
and he will proclaim justice to the nations.
He will not quarrel or cry out;
no one will hear his voice in the streets.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,
till he leads justice to victory.
In his name the nations will put their hope. (Mt 12:15b-20)

Jesus Christ came, leading justice to victory, but not in the style we expected or even wanted. This was God's justice at work. It is a gentle justice, a merciful justice, something our human minds struggle to comprehend. It is the justice of God that resolved not just to deal with a corrupt social order and issues of poverty and racism and slavery and everything else - though those are all very important to him too - but fundamentally to deal with our sin. And that at bottom is what we didn't expect: a Messiah that would deal with our sin. "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me": blessed, indeed, because he is the one whose sins are covered, the one to whose sin the LORD does not count against him (Ps 32:1,2).

Read the Institutes in a year

2009 is going to be a year of parties in the Reformed tradition: Calvin is 500! (He was born on July 10, 1509.) There will undoubtedly be conferences around the world in celebration and commemoration.

Princeton Theological Seminary is providing great opportunity to read and digest Calvin's Institutes (something I have always wanted to do and never got around to), by setting up an online reading group. The idea is to read a few pages each day. Every week, they will post scholarly response papers to the readings with which participants can interact.

You can read about it and sign up here. (I especially like the link that reads: "Calvin on your mobile device.") And don't write this off as something just for academic types! Reading Calvin would undoubtedly be of a lot of personal benefit. He will challenge you in your personal life, and make you think and re-think what it means be Reformed. (Happily, Calvin is somewhat different than many of his followers have been over the centuries.)

Thinking about feminism this Christmas

The notion that gender roles and even gender itself are socially constructed is foundational to the feminist world-view. "Anything he can do, she can do": that's been the animating principle of the feminist movement. And so we have female police officers and female soldiers and female taxi-drivers (come to think of it, I've never actually seen a female taxi-driver, or for that matter a garbage-woman). The politics of the hiring process these days demands that women are given are given an equal opportunity in roles traditionally thought to be masculine. And this in turn is based on the notion that gender roles are not innate but are socially constructed.

Now, I'm not in principle against women acting in any of the above-mentioned roles. Nor am I against men taking on roles that have more traditionally been women's jobs: stay-at-home dads, secretarial work, nursing, and so on. I'm most hesitant with women in the army, simply because the physiological differences between men and women are such that it's hard to see how women would be well-suited for combat roles. But, overall, I want to stress that I'm not against women engineers and male secretaries and other such challenges to the traditional construction of gender in our society. This particularly applies to politics (because this is an area where the leadership question comes into play): I'm certainly not against women in politics, and would be happy to have a female Prime Minister, if only for the reason that Kim Campbell's short-lived stint and horrendous election performance would not longer be the only historical instance of having a lady in charge in Ottawa.

I find myself in the curious position of not being opposed to the effects, but disagreeing with the cause. That is, the foundational premise under all of this - that gender roles are socially constructed - is, I think, somewhat absurd. There are two kinds of arguments one might employ: one kind that appeals to any logically-thinking person, and one that makes sense only to those with Christian assumptions.

The general arguments are quite simple, and two-fold. First, the idea that gender roles are socially determined is circular. It doesn't really provide a meaningful account of how differing roles came about, because the only explanation is simply: that's what society decided. Interestingly enough, usually this argument is used in a critique of the social order! The one making the criticism (let us say a feminist) scarcely pauses to acknowledge that their own view of gender roles is equally socially constructed. Which in turn relativizes the whole argument for equality: in a world where "truth" is only culturally specific, who's to say that equality is better than hierarchy?

Second, there is the empirical argument. If gender roles are socially determined, it is quite astonishing that virtually every society in existence throughout history has been basically patriarchal in its setup. Each society has arbitrarily "constructed" an order which generally sees men acting as the warriors and leaders. This is - on the feminist reading - an incredible historical phenomenon, akin to each separate society somehow developing exactly the same architecture, which, of course, did not happen. The point is: the best way of accounting for the empirical evidence starts with recognizing that gender roles are not completely arbitrary, but are somehow innate, and related to our very humanity.

So much for the logical arguments. I've advanced them before, and really so far I've said nothing new. What did occur to me recently, however, was that a Christian has far greater reasons to be suspicious of feminist ideology. Gender roles are closely connected to some of the fundamental events of our faith; indeed, the very events of our salvation assume male headship. We wouldn't really understand what happened on Christmas day without it.

For, to put it simply, if gender roles really are socially constructed, then it would not really have made a salvific difference if Jesus Christ was a man or a woman. He could have been either; the Son of God could have been the daughter of God. So, one thing Christians need to think about this Christmas is this: why did Jesus have to be a man?

The answer is quite simple. Adam, not Eve, is the one in whom all humanity sinned (Rom 5:12-21). How does this work? The fall is regarded in Adam, since Adam was the head of his wife and had responsibility for the garden. Incidentally, that is why, when God speaks to Adam, he says, "Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree..." (Gen 3:17). It is very curious (in a narrative that scarcely gives more than the essential details) that God addresses Adam as having done two things wrong, and listening to his wife is mentioned first. The abdication of headship occurred in the fall, and so Adam was ultimately responsible for the sin in the garden. And so humanity is regarded in Adam, until the coming of Christ, the second Adam (I Cor 15).

If this applies to the fall, it equally applies to our salvation. Paul's fundamental teaching is that we are "in Christ", and that our being united in him is how we experience his salvific blessings. For this to be really true, Christ had to be man. He had to be a second Adam if he could comprehend all humanity in himself, and bestow the blessings of forgiveness and grace universally.

Every Christmas, we have another opportunity to reflect on the central mystery of our faith: how God was made man. And there are so many aspects to that, and every detail in some way adds to our salvation. Two thousand years ago, a virgin from the line of David gave birth in Bethelehem to a baby boy who was to be named Jesus: there are so many details that seemingly could have been otherwise, but they are all important for us and our salvation. And every Christmas it seems that I'm struck by another facet of the way God has worked everything out for us; this Christmas, by the rather mundane observation that Jesus was a boy. But it is one thing to say that Jesus was a boy and quite another to say that he had to be a boy, and that makes all the difference.

Canada: Proudly Becoming the Laughingstock of the Western World

Just over a month ago, I suggested that politics in Canada is broken, based on the insights of the astute Andrew Coyne.

The events of the past week have gone a long way to confirming that analysis. The unthinkable has now transpired. Some observations about what has occurred:

1) Stephen Harper overplayed his hand in trying to eliminate public financing of political parties. Everyone knows this. But not everyone understands why Harper did this. In a brilliant article written before the writ was dropped for the previous Canadian election (which happened in early September), Tom Flanagan explains in advance the events that have transpired last week. Harper's proposal, and the Liberal reaction, are a part of the ongoing war between Conservatives and Liberals. What the public does not realize is just how close to bankruptcy the Liberal party is, and how devastating it would for be for them to lose their free lunch, courtesy of the tax-payers. Money is everything in politics, and this small $30 million budget cut was Harper's play for a guaranteed majority in the next election.

What was Harper's mistake? In a sense, it appears to have been underestimating just how callous and unprincipled the Liberals have become in their quest for power. Harper thought that because of his strengthened minority and the lack of a viable Liberal leader, it was the time to strike. What happened? The Liberals, who in the previous Parliament supported the government against their principles countless times, and who just last week supported a Throne Speech completely in line with the proposed economic update, panicked. They revealed they will abandon all their principles except the principle of self-preservation. And so, the Libs immediately entered discussions with the NDP and the Bloc Quebecois about a possible coalition.

Today, in their triumphant press conference, the Opposition parties are painting this as being about the economy. It is the lack of a stimulus package, they say. Nonsense. The actual economic update has nothing to do with this power grab. It was Harper's bold thrust at cutting them off from the public purse that galvanized the Opposition into action. Thomas Mulcair (NDP) admitted as much today on Mike Duffy Live, though John McCallum (LIB) tried to cover it up.

2) In their shameless attempt at self-preservation, the Opposition has done what was hitherto unthinkable in Canadian politics: brokered a deal with the Bloc. For many years, cooperation with the BQ was the one taboo that unified the other mainstream parties. But the threat of Quebec separation has all but disappeared (with over $8 billion in transfer payments, would you separate?), and so the Bloc is largely irrelevant. Until now. Now, a party that is devoted to the demise of Canada has its fingers on the pulse of the government. The new coalition will need the Bloc to pass any legislation it wants to push through. The Bloc will be able to veto any legislation it doesn't like. A separatist party at the heart of our national government? Many traditional Liberals, who remember fondly the glory days of Jean Chretien and the referendum of 1995, will be absolutely appalled.

3) The media coverage of this whole fiasco has been remarkably pro-Liberal. Harper's measure to cut public funding (which, by the way, he took back on Saturday after realizing he had gone too far), would have been hailed as self-sacrificing had it been proposed by a Liberal government. The media would have raved about how these politicians were putting the national interest ahead of their own. Harper, perhaps, did not realize just how much this measure would be interpreted as politically self-serving. It remains to be seen what the mainstream liberal dailies (Toronto Star, etc.) will say about this blatant grasp at power by the Opposition. Undoubtedly, they will find a way to defend it as part of the spirit of democracy.

If the Conservative government goes down next Monday, Canada's Parliament will be the laughingstock of the Western world. Just eight weeks after an election, the party chosen by the voice of the people is replaced by a left-wing coalition that threatens to plunge this country deep into red ink. However, ultimately, this coalition government will only play into Conservative hands. If they govern for any length of time (six months or more), they will do enough damage to virtually guarantee two straight Conservative majorities.

But will Stephen Harper be leading them? If his tactical error places the Conservatives back in Opposition, will they hold their own leadership contest? In the end, it would be a tragically farcical end to what is shaping up to be a solid and strong political career, if this tempest over what represents less than 1% of budget spending were to be the cause of Harper's political demise.