Musing on the problem of evil

I'm editing a book that considers atheistic arguments against God. And one of the big arguments marshaled against the Christian conception of God is the problem of moral evil. And a key part of the discussion has to do with envisioning God's rationale in creating a world in which such evil and suffering can and do occur. Doesn't that evil sit squarely on God's lap. It is an important argument, one which Christian thinkers far better than I have engaged over the centuries. But one aspect of it struck me today. The assumption here is that life is self-evidently not worth living. In order for the argument to hold up, that God was fundamentally and culpably wrong to create a world like ours, and thus, God is either evil/weak or not there at all, the underlying assumption must hold up, that all of our lives are not worth living, that someone is at fault that a life such as ours exists in the first place. Now I grant that far too many people live lives of inexplicable suffering, and it is a far-too-common occurrence that people despair of life itself (I don't see this feeble reflection as answering the questions surrounding moral evil), but isn't it true that most people love and enjoy life and fight to keep it. And doesn't that undermine a basic but unstated premise in the argument? I certainly agree with the atheist to the extent that there are many things in our world that can and must be called evil. But I contest that the existence of evil categorically disproves the existence of God. So much more could (and, granted, must) be said, but just a random thought for the day.

Child sponsorship and hope

Christianity Today has a number of articles in their June 2013 edition about child sponsorship programs. The lead article touts research published in the Journal of Political Economy concerning the outcomes of child sponsorship. The supervising researcher, Bruce Wydick, notes of the initial study on kids in Uganda, "You could beat the data senseless, and it was incapable of showing anything other than extremely large and statistically significant impacts on educational outcomes for sponsored children" (22). Because the initial study was so promising, it was expanded to countries around the world. The results were the same. Wydick summarizes, "We're not just finding positive correlations, but substantial causal effects from the program--in every country--especially Africa." Simply, child sponsorship works. Especially for the poorest, but it works for everybody. Wess Stafford, the former president of Compassion International, the organization that was confident enough in what they were doing to open themselves up to this type of scrutiny (kudos to them for being willing to confirm their stewardship of our resources and of our God-given vision for bringing about change and relief to so many who need it!), says he attributes much of the improvement to one thing . . . hope. "The big difference that sponshorship makes," he reflects, "is that it expands children's views about their own possibilities. . . . We help them realize that they are each given special gifts from God to benefit their communities, and we try to help them develop aspirations for their future" (24). Compassion, hope, fulfilling basic needs, all permeated with the gospel of Jesus Christ. That's exciting stuff! So if you aren't already doing it, sponsor a child.

On believing and being a Christian, or reflecting on one of the "hard" parts of the creed

I love to read blogs, at least most of the time, and I enjoy the academic aspects of the Christian faith: the questions of authorship of the various documents of the Bible, the theology the various authors exhibit, the scope and content of the gospel message first preached and passed down by the apostles, and it goes on and on. But every once in a while, I'm jarred by a post, jarred back to what it is all about. And a beautiful post by theologian Ben Myers over at Faith and Theology did that for me today. I'll get out of the way now and just say simply, "read it."

Striving to become young, and grateful to be found in Christ,
James

A beautiful piece on an underappreciatedly beautiful life

I was blown away by this beautiful piece by George F. Will (HT: Scot McKnight). My favorite line, which I had to read at least two or three times to fully appreciate, comes about half-way through: "Judging by Jon, the world would be improved by more people with Down syndrome, who are quite nice, as humans go." Wow! There's some counter-cultural food for thought. Do read it all.

When Jonathan Frederick Will was born 40 years ago — on May 4, 1972, his father’s 31st birthday — the life expectancy for people with Down syndrome was about 20 years. That is understandable.

The day after Jon was born, a doctor told Jon’s parents that the first question for them was whether they intended to take Jon home from the hospital. Nonplussed, they said they thought that is what parents do with newborns. Not doing so was, however, still considered an acceptable choice for parents who might prefer to institutionalize or put up for adoption children thought to have necessarily bleak futures. Whether warehoused or just allowed to languish from lack of stimulation and attention, people with Down syndrome, not given early and continuing interventions, were generally thought to be incapable of living well, and hence usually did not live as long as they could have.

Down syndrome is a congenital condition resulting from a chromosomal defect — an extra 21st chromosome. It causes varying degrees of mental retardation and some physical abnormalities, including small stature, a single crease across the center of the palms, flatness of the back of the head, a configuration of the tongue that impedes articulation, and a slight upward slant of the eyes. In 1972, people with Down syndrome were still commonly called Mongoloids.

Now they are called American citizens, about 400,000 of them, and their life expectancy is 60. Much has improved. There has, however, been moral regression as well.

Jon was born just 19 years after James Watson and Francis Crick published their discoveries concerning the structure of DNA, discoveries that would enhance understanding of the structure of Jon, whose every cell is imprinted with Down syndrome. Jon was born just as prenatal genetic testing, which can detect Down syndrome, was becoming common. And Jon was born eight months before Roe v. Wadeinaugurated this era of the casual destruction of pre-born babies.

This era has coincided, not just coincidentally, with the full, garish flowering of the baby boomers’ vast sense of entitlement, which encompasses an entitlement to exemption from nature’s mishaps, and to a perfect baby. So today science enables what the ethos ratifies, the choice of killing children with Down syndrome before birth. That is what happens to 90 percent of those whose parents receive a Down syndrome diagnosis through prenatal testing.

Which is unfortunate, and not just for them. Judging by Jon, the world would be improved by more people with Down syndrome, who are quite nice, as humans go. It is said we are all born brave, trusting and greedy, and remain greedy. People with Down syndrome must remain brave in order to navigate society’s complexities. They have no choice but to be trusting because, with limited understanding, and limited abilities to communicate misunderstanding, they, like Blanche DuBois in “A Streetcar Named Desire,” always depend on the kindness of strangers. Judging by Jon’s experience, they almost always receive it.

Two things that have enhanced Jon’s life are the Washington subway system, which opened in 1976, and the Washington Nationals baseball team, which arrived in 2005. He navigates the subway expertly, riding it to the Nationals ballpark, where he enters the clubhouse a few hours before game time and does a chore or two. The players, who have climbed to the pinnacle of a steep athletic pyramid, know that although hard work got them there, they have extraordinary aptitudes because they are winners of life’s lottery. Major leaguers, all of whom understand what it is to be gifted, have been uniformly and extraordinarily welcoming to Jon, who is not.

Except he is, in a way. He has the gift of serenity, in this sense:

The eldest of four siblings, he has seen two brothers and a sister surpass him in size, and acquire cars and college educations. He, however, with an underdeveloped entitlement mentality, has been equable about life’s sometimes careless allocation of equity. Perhaps this is partly because, given the nature of Down syndrome, neither he nor his parents have any tormenting sense of what might have been. Down syndrome did not alter the trajectory of his life; Jon was Jon from conception on.

This year Jon will spend his birthday where every year he spends 81 spring, summer and autumn days and evenings, at Nationals Park, in his seat behind the home team’s dugout. The Phillies will be in town, and Jon will be wishing them ruination, just another man, beer in hand, among equals in the republic of baseball.

On context and influence

Matthew Malcolm points to some of his own comments on Ciampa and Rosner's new 1 Corinthians commentary in the Pillar series, along with a response by Roy Ciampa. In reading the exchange, part of Ciampa's comment jumped out a me:

When a group understands itself in contrast to another group (whether a real group or a [sub-]cultural construction such as “paganism”) it has been deeply influenced by that context, beyond their own level of awareness.

It seems to present some sound wisdom for thinking about biblical writers and their contexts, but also some outstanding food for thought for our own day. I wonder how much our own formulations of doctrine or our positions on matters we hold dear are unwittingly influenced by the very people we oppose. The inerrancy debates, for one, often seem decisively shaped by the very categories "liberal" thinkers proposed for reading the Bible, even as conservative defenders seek to oppose the liberal positions. I can't help but wonder how my own thinking is shaped by my context (an interesting line of thought on its own), and particularly by contrasts I seek to hold. Hmmm.

On "praying" to the saints

Thanks to Mike Bird for pointing me to an interaction between Rachel Held Evans (and her readers) and Frederica Mathewes-Green about the latter's writings and her move to the Orthodox Church. I admit that I have always bristled at any mention or allusion to any type of veneration or prayer to saints. And I'm still very cautious about the whole idea, but I was greatly enlightened by her response, which I have excerpted below.

From Karl: I realized after reading Facing East that I'd misunderstood many Orthodox and Catholic practices, such as the use of icons and "praying to" saints and Mary. Can you discuss a couple of common protestant misconceptions on these issues and explain how Orthodox view them? How and why do you think those misconceptions arose? [FMG:] I think much of the misconception about the saints goes back to the word “pray,” which originally meant simply making a request. You could say at dinner, “I pray you, pass the steak sauce.” When we pray to God, we ask him directly what is on our minds; when we pray to saints, we ask them to pray for us. It’s just like when I ask my prayer partners to pray for me. But, with them, I use email or a phone; with the saints, I use prayer. It’s a means of communication. Sometimes people say to me, “I can go directly to Jesus, I don’t need to ask intermediaries,” and I reply, “OK, I won’t pray for you any more, then.” Really, the prayers of the saints are no different from the prayers of our friends on earth. It is “the great cloud of witnesses,” both visible and invisible, all one in Jesus Christ.

I have been slowly growing in my realization of what the communion of saints means, mostly in terms of how I listen to voices from the past and seek to dialogue with and learn from them. But this points in a more active and present dimension that I think has a valid place, if we truly believe in the resurrection. I don't affirm her view without reservation, to be sure, but I found it worth considering.

The future of publishing and the e-book

Since I have worked in academic publishing, and since I continue to do so as a freelancer, I have a lot of interest in the future of the book. As an avowed bibliophile, I have personally shuddered in horror at the thought of replacing a beautiful bound volume with a plastic tablet with e-ink (they're very cool by the way, and I may even consider getting one in the coming years). Or even worse, replacing a beautifully filled shelf (or even room) in the same way. But while e-books are certainly here to stay, and are indeed putting pressure on an already tight-margin enterprise, I hold out a lot of hope that the book's demise is not anywhere in the near future. And, a great quote I read on the IVP Addenda & Errata blog this afternoon put the current e-reader trend in great perspective. Dan Reid of IVP writes, "As IVP’s Andy Le Peau likes to say, “The e-book is the new mass-market paperback.” That, at least, is a snapshot of e-publishing in the fall of 2010." And I think it's both true and somewhat encouraging. The books I'd consider putting on an e-reader are quick-read fiction, like Dan Brown or John Grisham, books most readers buy in mass-market editions (which aren't very lucrative for publishers anyway except in large quantities). So the landscape of publishing is certainly changing, but some of the new developments may not be quite as dire as the may at first seem. Long live the book!

Just arrived: Thielman's Ephesians

Frank Thielman's new commentary on Ephesians in the BECNT series just arrived on my desk, and I'm very excited about it. I've greatly appreciated his scholarship and his take on Paul. I was first introduced to him through his excellent commentary on Philippians in the NIVAC series, and subsequently have read his two books on the Law, Paul and the Law and The Law and the New Testament. I've only begun to skim this commentary, but I was immediately struck by the closing lines of the Author's Preface:

My prayer is that the commentary would quickly get out of the way after bringing the reader to the text, and that the text would, in its turn, help the reader understand the breadth and length and height and depth of the love of Christ.

That beautifully wrought sentiment is certainly my own prayer for all of my studies of the Bible and of theology (even if it is too often unrealized), and it is encouraging to see it so well articulated at the outset of a commentary. I look forward to jumping in.

The Passing of Theologian Donald Bloesch

Michael Bird at Euangelion notes the passing of theologian Donald Bloesch. I am very saddened to hear of his death. I have greatly appreciated his thoughtful theological writing. Bloesch, most notably for me, was an evangelical who remained within his mainline tradition (United Church of Christ), and wrote out of that context. This helped produce, I think, a wonderful blend of the biblical, historical, and theological. He drew heavily, though not uncritically, on Karl Barth. His great 7-volume systematic theology, Christian Foundations, contains some real jems: I especially appreciate God the Almighty, Holy Scripture,  and The Holy Spirit. I found great solace in his writing, especially as I myself was seeking to do theology out of a mainline context throughout Seminary while maintaining my evangelical sensibilities, and in fact seeking to enrich my thinking in both ways (drawing on the wonderful riches of the mainline heritage, i my case Lutheran, while also preserving the great and deep evangelical currents and especially the close ties to the Bible). Bloesch served as a great encouragement in this sense as this is precisely what his project accomplishes.

I recall one particular enlightenment I gained from him, on how to think through the meaning and purpose of the sacraments. It was through Bloesch that I gained an appreciation for the great nourishment and value of the sacraments, and how they could and would be a locus of the activity of the Holy Spirit, without at the same time falling prey to a view that attributes some type of automatic or salvation-giving power to the action in and of itself.

In all, I owe a great debt to Bloesch, and will continue to gain great insight from his work, which I richly commend. May he rest overjoyed in God's gracious presence.

The Hermeneutics of Childhood

I've got twin two-year-olds at home, so I'm pretty immersed in their world. One of the really fascinating things I've noticed over the past year or so is their ability to filter the world, and especially unfamiliar things, through their past experiences. I can't even count how many times it happens (it's pretty much constant), but one recent example gives the feel. They have a little Yatzee battery-powered game that they got from their beloved grandpa. But they don't treat it like a game, or even like some random object that beeps. Instead, they think of it, and use it, as a phone. Because it's roughly the same shape and size as many people's digital phones. So they faithfully walk around pushing buttons and talking on it. And that assumption on their part puts something with which they have no familiarity into their world in a familiar place. And as I said, the number of examples could multiply endlessly. But what this got me thinking about is how nicely this illustrates the need for careful hermeutical reflection when reading, especially the Bible. I'm reading Frank Thielman's Paul and the Law right now, which I'm greatly enjoying, and the need for awareness of one's own context (so we don't too quickly find a Paul that fits comfortably into our own setting), as well as an awareness of the apostle's setting, are essential to reading Paul faithfully. I think there's a more developed reflection hidden in here somewhere, but it was an idea I didn't want to loose, so you get it only partially formed, for what it's worth.

New Ancient Temple Found

Ben Witherington points out the release of an important, paradigm-shifting discovery of an ancient temple complex of massive proportions in Turkey. The complex, dating from around 11,500 years ago, predates the pyramids and stonehenge by thousands of years. You can read about in Prof. Witherington's blog post above, as well as the Newsweek article. This is a fascinating discovery, and it will be interesting to see its wider ramifications, especially in the more narrow field of Biblical Archaeology, and the light it sheds on the Biblical history accounts. One quote from the Newsweek article struck me as interesting, and also points to the importance of this discovery for understanding ancient cultures:

"Schmidt's thesis is simple and bold: it was the urge to worship that brought mankind together in the very first urban conglomerations. The need to build and maintain this temple, he says, drove the builders to seek stable food sources, like grains and animals that could be domesticated, and then to settle down to guard their new way of life. The temple begat the city."

This discovery's announcement comes on the heels of another announcement from Israel relating to a structure possibly relating to the time of David and Solomon. See Darrel Bock's blog for more info on that interesting discovery. Lots going on in archaeology today!

BW3 on Holy Discontent

I had a chance to spend some great time with some men from my church this morning at our monthly breakfast. Our discussion topic was about how you balance safety and risk, balance day-to-day needs with eternal priorities. It was a great opportunity to reflect on how we make choices: are the ways we actually think and decide and act really consistent with what we value most highly? It is such great food for thought. I've been thinking since last fall about Col 3 and the theme of having our mind set on things above, something in which I think I often fall short. It's not a call to escapism but instead to living with a baptized imagination for how our lives could be.

Then I got home and read a great blog post from Ben Witherington, which I'm excerpting here:
___

St. Paul puts it well--- "not that I have already obtained all this (i.e. perfection, full maturity, becoming Christ like, the resurrection etc.) or have already arrived at my final goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ took hold of me. Brothers and sisters I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do. Forgetting what is behind and straining forward towards what is ahead, I press on towards the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 3.12-14)

Now we have gotten to the nub of the matter. Paul is talking about doing, a doing which leads to the right end. He expresses his holy discontent not with his circumstances, not with his situation, not with his mortal frame, not with how God made him, but with the fact that he has not yet arrived where God ultimately wants him to be in his life. Indeed, none of us have done so, who are still alive and breathing on terra firma. Paul is not berating himself in a way that either denigrates or denies what God has made him to be, or what Christ has already accomplished in him. But a holy discontent forgets what lies in the past and press on with the upward call of doing better, and in the end being all that we were meant to be. We are meant to be a restless people until we find our final rest in Him, until we reach the goal. And here is what this means.

___

What a great reminder about being reflective, about not giving into the pop psychology idea of self-acceptance but instead living with a holy discontent, in pursuit of God's good and perfect will. What a great (and challenging) way to live. Press on.

Good as the privation of evil?

I've been focusing my reading on Pauline studies for the last year or so, and it's been a blast. One of the key issues that comes up again and again, in Paul's letters no less than in the vast literature they have spawned, is the meaning of righteousness, especially God's righteousness. So this has got me reflecting on what I think it is. I think, for many Christians, the answer would involve something revolving around God's holiness, understood as God's perfection and total absence of sin. It is something (akin to a pristine state, innocence) that God imparts to us as a gift. Now, I can't think of anything at all wrong with any of that (though I know some people would certainly quibble with it), but I also think it's woefully incomplete.

In Pauline studies, there is a big discussion of God's righteousness as understood objectively (a righteousness that God possesses and gives to believers) or subjectively (a quality or activity of God that brings about or entails or results in God's saving work). And while I think something of both positions carries valid and important truth, I think there is immense value in looking at God's righteousness subjectively, as something like God's faithfulness and his saving action. I think this helps us go beyond a perspective of good (held implicitly or explicitly) as that which is without evil (though that is a perfectly fine affirmation) to fill that most excellent category of God's righteousness with some amazing content: God's loving faithfulness, his saving grace, his patient purpose.

These few reflections certainly don't even begin to scratch the surface of the exegetical issues entailed in the discussion, but I hope they can be some valuable reflection on Christmas, and God's loving gift in sending his Son. For in Jesus God's righteousness is surely revealed.

Getting back from a busy summer

Well, Cindy and I took advantage of a summer where neither of us was tied down to a full-time job. With her getting summers off from teaching and me staying home / working from home, we had quite an opportunity for flexibility. This meant time to make it up to Canada fishing with my Dad, Grandpa, and Cousin for our annual trip, a great week out in California to visit friends, a week spent with Cindy's family in Montana, with a great hike up in the mountains, and a few weeks back in beloved Peru. It was both great to see friends and places we loved and also a joy to be able to serve, doing earthquake relief in the town of Chincha. The devastation is pretty amazing, rivaled only by the slow pace of recovery.

I've also been blessedly busy with freelance work since returning from Peru, with some copyediting on my desk right now and a few typesetting projects on the way—I do love book production. What a great job.

Now another school year is upon us, and a chance to get back in to our routines. The boys have been keeping me busy, as they are now on the verge of 2, with all that entails. But they are so much fun and are certainly always entertaining. I've got some book reviews to catch up on, especially Michael Gorman's great new book, Inhabiting the Cruciform God. I'm also looking forward to doing some continued thinking about the nature of church, both as a spearhead the development of a new small-group ministry at our church and an opportunity to take part in a study on church leadership. So "church" is likely to be a topic for thought, along side my continuing reading in all topics surrounding Paul (that could last a lifetime, I have no doubt).

God's Word for the flood

My parents live on the Red River in Moorhead, MN, so we have spent the past couple weeks sandbagging and battling the flood waters, and are getting ready for a second crest next week. There were many sleepless nights, and it was touch and go a number of times. So far, they have emerged with some water damage to the lower level, including losing all of the carpet. But they were able to stop the leak and pump the water back out, so the house itself seems fine, as is the furnace. The first night I did dike duty over night, my cousins Ricky and David and I sat up in my parents' sun porch watching the pumps and listening to the radio, and at about 2:30 AM, we heard the report that our school, Oak Grove Lutheran School in Fargo, ND, had sustained a dike breach. (The whole school was severely damaged in the 1997, and a permanant flood wall was built after that flood; they are also just completing a multi-million-dollar renovation of the campus, including a new fine arts center, fitness area, and other major renovations.) And as we listened over the next two hours, we heard the agonizing news that the permanent wall had indeed failed, and that the National Guard was unable to stop the water. Two buildings sustained major damage, and there was fear that the whole campus could again be inundated. This was very discouraging news.

A little later, around 5 AM, I picked up the Book of Common Prayer off a nearby shelf to help me stay awake, and came immediately upon Psalm 29. Let me preface this by saying that Psalm 29 has held no special meaning to me before, and in fact I could have told you nothing about what it said. (None of these things applies any more, as you will see.) But as I read the Psalm, I was overwhelmed by how powerfully these words spoke to the situation that night.

1 Ascribe to the LORD, O mighty ones,
ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.

2 Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name;
worship the LORD in the splendor of his [a] holiness.

3 The voice of the LORD is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the LORD thunders over the mighty waters.

4 The voice of the LORD is powerful;
the voice of the LORD is majestic.

5 The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars;
the LORD breaks in pieces the cedars of Lebanon.

6 He makes Lebanon skip like a calf,
Sirion [b] like a young wild ox.

7 The voice of the LORD strikes
with flashes of lightning.

8 The voice of the LORD shakes the desert;
the LORD shakes the Desert of Kadesh.

9 The voice of the LORD twists the oaks [c]
and strips the forests bare.
And in his temple all cry, "Glory!"

10 The LORD sits [d] enthroned over the flood;
the LORD is enthroned as King forever.

11 The LORD gives strength to his people;
the LORD blesses his people with peace.

I have been struck by the power of God's Word before on many occasions, but I was awe-struck by the amazing power in those words, as if God wrote them just for that morning. Imagine reading the words in bold as you sit looking out over record-level flood waters that are threatening to devastate whole towns, and as you have just heard about unexpected and serious devastation to Oak Grove. It was quite an experience. But what struck me most was the final lines of the psalm, that in the midst of all of this, God gives strength and peace. And I was called back to the beginning of the psalm, called to ascribe glory to God. I have no doubt that God has already used the flood, and the devastation at Oak Grove, for his glory. He certainly has in my life. And listening to the president of Oak Grove, Bruce Messelt, talk to the media the next morning with such confidence and thankfulness to God despite the flood's destruction, all I could think was that the psalm was being lived right there as I listened, and I'm confident that it will continue to be lived as the weeks and months pass.

It is awesome to be confronted by God's Word, and even greater to know that God's Spirit is using it even still, speaking powerful and true words right down to today. God is a great God, more powerful than flood waters, glorified even amid devastation. How awesome to know and be known by such a faithful God.

Fell off the blogging planet . . .

Well, except for one little book review, I've been silent on my little blog for what seems like an eternity. But let me assure you, I haven't abandoned it. I've just been really busy. I just finished copyediting a book on early Judaism that included a lot of excerpts from the relevant texts (mostly OT, Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha, Josephus, and Philo), which I greatly enjoyed. And I'm finishing up a huge typesetting project today: an intro textbook for the Hebrew Bible with a ton of images, which is taking way more time than I expected. But both have been great projects. I haven't stopped reading, but just haven't had time to blog. My twin boys (who are now almost 18 months old) have also keept me plenty busy, especially now that Lucas is walking and Paul is not far behind. So that's all to say I've got a few book reviews I need to get up here: Kevin Vanhoozer's Drama of Doctrine being the big one. Let me just say, what a great book. Vanhoozer is such a solid theologian, and this book was worth every second I spent on it. I've also got A. T. B. McGowan's book on the doctrine of Scripture to review.

I am also in the middle of some study on Paul, mostly for my own personal edification. I'm reading Walter Wangerin's novel Paul, for one narrative take on Paul's life. It has certainly been worthwile reading. I've also been reading various introductions on Paul's life and travels, as well as a number of the relevant articles in Dictionary of Paul and His Letters. My first big book on Paul is Eckhard Schnabel's Paul the Missionary, which I just started. So more to come on that book, and on Paul in general. There certainly is no shortage of books on Paul, and I've come across some really good ones.

Well, that's it for now, but more to come in the coming days and weeks. Thanks for sticking with me.

More on the Millennium: Why?

I must admit that one of my principal objections to the idea of a millennial kingdom has always been that it seems so pointless. It is a doctrine that is only taught specifically in one place (Rev 20), and even there the precise reading is contested. It is consistent with some other themes and teaching in the Old and New Testament, but it certainly isn't required by other discussion of the end times elsewhere in Scripture. So this has always raised the question for me of why there should be a millennium. Why not go with a simple (essentially amillennial) approach that understands Jesus return to be immanent, with his return inaugurating the final judgment, the resurrection to the life to come, and the new creation. And I must admit, even in my recent study on the topic of the millennium, and my own movement toward a "premillennial" position, this has been a nagging objection.

But in my continued reading, I've read what G. E. Ladd has to say about the Apocalypse in A Theology of the New Testament (the discussion is at pp 630-31 in the first edition, and quotations come from there). And there, he discusses very helpfully how we might begin to understand a millennial reign of Christ--he puts some logic to it.

(Now I admit that we don't certainly only believe things that we fully understand, and just because I don't see the reason for something doesn't mean that God can't or shouldn't do something that way; and some things we read in Scripture are that way--God reveals to us his ways and plans. So don't read too much into my objections. But in this case, it is of a bit more validity because the question arises of how we should read Rev 20 in relation to the rest of the NT and of the Bible, seeking to shape the reading of one based on the other, so a fuller canonical understanding of eschatology certainly comes into play at some level.)

Anyway, on to the logic of the millennium. Ladd writes, "There should be no objection to the idea of such a temporal kingdom in principle . . ." And he goes on to explain. First, the idea of a temporal reign (that is, Christ reigning within history and not only beyond it) fits with the fact that Christ is currently reigning now in the church age. There is now a sense in which that reign is not fully revealed or realized, but it is still a reality. And this is one of the theological reasons Ladd points to for thinking about a millennial reign: it is the consummation of Christ's reign on earth, the realization of that which is now only partly manifest. And this reign is millennial (and thus only temporary in some sense) because Christ then turns over his glory and sovereignty to the Father in the age to come. (I admit that there is a certain logic to this, in light of various biblical discussions about the end, but I need to do some more reflection on the trinitarian implications of this, including the idea that Christ is in eternal and final subjection to the Father instead of an eternal coregnant.)

The second logical and theological reason Ladd explores for the millennium has to do with God's justice. The millennial reign of Christ will be a time when Satan is bound and the social environment will be "as nearly perfect as possible." But at the end of this time, Satan will be loosed and will again deceive the nations. Thus, the logic for God's justice goes something like this. Some may say that humans are at least in part not to blame for their sin and their harness of heart due to the environmental and societal factors that come into play. But this objection will be truly and finally demonstrated as false as the millennium demonstrates the true wickedness and hardness of the huaman heart. Ladd writes that "in the final judgment of the great white throne every mouth will indeed be stopped and every excuse voided, to the vindication of the glory and the righetousness of God." In a sense, the millennium is the final proof of God's justice, and provides the backdrop for God's final judgment of all people for all time.

While the logic may not "require" a millennium, it helps make some sense of what God is about. It is certainly food for thought.

Revelation and the Millennium

The EFCA has recently revised its Statement of Faith (see my earlier comments here). One of the major modifications was the inclusion of "premillennialism" in the statement. I must admit that I initially met this inclusion with some skepticism--do we really need to enshrine that particular belief in our statement, especially considering the number of Christians holding varying opinions.

Our church (Oxboro Ev. Free Church) is going to be looking at the changes to the statement in the coming weeks, so I thought I'd begin doing some homework. And though I've studied and read about Revelation and issues surrounding the Millennium before, I've never really delved deeply into it, and never really come to any opinion on it myself, even a provisional one. And I figured this would be a good time to get working. So I pulled a number of books off my shelves and got to reading. At first, I was struck by the breadth of the views I was finding. It seemed that each position had some positives and some negatives.

So I sat down and read Revelation from start to finish, essentially non-stop. (I must say I highly recommend this, especially after perusing an introduction or two to get your bearings.) And was struck by how powerful the words would have been to its first audience, Asian Christians facing persecution. It seems we all too often forget that they are the adressees of the letter! I must admit that this doesn't easily and quickly solve any of the thorny and complicated exegetical issues of the book, but it does immediately and powerfully open up the main thrust of the book: God is holy, mighty, powerful, the Savior! He was and is and is to come. And despite how things may look at the moment, he's got the whole world in his hands, and his judgments are just. We can expect some tough times, difficult persecutions, maybe even death for his name. But don't be fooled--God is on the throne, and he is coming again to vindicate the righteous and to set the world right.

So there's a thumbnail sketch of Revelation. It is easy to see why this book has inspired so many songs, poems, and prayers. (Think Milton, for one easy example.) But what about the Millennium? Like I said, I didn't come up with any easy answers to the thorny questions. But. After a lot of reading (from commentators like Robert Mounce in the NICNT to Craig Koester to Ben Witherington, from the NT theology of I. H. Marshall, and from theologians like Donald Bloesch and Wayne Grudem), I am more and more convinced that while I may have some type of affinity with an amillennial position (more for aesthetic reasons than anything else, I think), I keep being lead toward premillennialism. Though it is also abundantly clear that this is not an obvious road to take (a commentator as responsible and mature as I. H. Marshall essentially dismisses premillennialism out of hand in his NT Theology). And right now, the most clear and convincing piece of the argument goes back to where I started in my exploration, thinking about the original audience. Amillennialism and Postmillennialism may seem like equally viable options now, two millennia later, as we look over the past and possible future. There's a church age, that may be somehow related to the millennium (amillennialists would say it has been and is the "millennium" and postmillennialists would say something like it is becoming or will become the millennium). But, what of the original authors, who didn't have that church age behind them. In fact, one of the clearest and probably most secure pieces of NT data we have is that the NT authors didn't expect a long and extended "church age." They expected Christ's return at any moment. In Revelation, for instance, just turn the page from Revelation 20 and the discussion of the millennium and you get to Revelation 22: Come Lord Jesus! And the same expectation permeates Paul, the Gospels, and the other NT writings as well. Jesus is coming again; soon! While this may not be a totally secure argument for premillennialism, (and while it argues more persuasively against postmillenniallism than amillennialism) it sure makes good sense of the data in a very natural way.

The closest we get to heaven . . .

My son Lucas had just awakened from his nap. As I held him, he snuggled into my shoulder for a minute or two--waking up is so hard. And as I enjoyed his embrace, it occurred to me that that feeling, loving embrace, may be the closest we get to heaven in this life. I've just enjoyed a couple wonderful books on the Trinity (Coppedge, The God Who Is Triune, and Shults, Reforming the Doctrine of God), and one of the beautiful pictures they paint is of God's life as a mutual sharing and indwelling and relating. Instead of thinking of God as a static monad, we develop a picture of dynamic, vibrant life and love. Further, we come to reimagine our relationship to God. We come to see salvation as including the joining of our lives to the Trinitarian life, a participating with God in this beautiful relationship. Paul uses the image of marriage to point toward the beautiful intimacy and union the church shares with Christ, and likewise the Gospel of John repeatedly talks of Jesus' unity with the father and believers' unity with Christ. There is a beautiful embrace that takes place here. (Cf. Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace; I'll need to go back and give it some attention when the opportunity presents itself.) So, I say, the beautiful contented and loving embrace of a father with child and of a husband and a wife are the closest we get here on Earth to experiencing everlasting life. And that's a great thought.

AAR and other musings

I'm looking forward to AAR in Chicago this coming weekend. I wouldn't be going except it is so close I can't resist. And I can stay for free with my sister in Milwaukee; I spend a bit extra on gas, but save a ton on hotel costs. So I'm looking forward to coming home with a big pile of discounted books! I've got money set aside, and can't wait to prowl the aisles. I must add at this point that I bemoan the separation of AAR and SBL. I went to the joint meeting in Philadelphia in 2005. And it was awesome. There were so many great presentations in both the theological and biblical areas that I was horribly divided on which sessions I was going to attend (and I only made it to a few, but heard some great stuff). It seemed like such an important opportunity for theologians and biblical scholars to have their scholarship interact, such an important and growing emphasis these days. This year there are some great sessions as well, and I am looking forward to the weekend. I'm interested in the discussion on the Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology on Saturday (M1-200). I've been greatly enjoying that book, and look forward to a discussion about it's take on evangelical theology and practice. It seems to exemplify the best of evangelical scholarship and the promise of an evangelical future, though certainly not in an uncritical way. There's also a session on LeRon Shults's Reforming the Doctrine of God that should be good, and hopefully I can hang around for it on Monday.

Beyond that, I have a few thoughts budding, including some thoughts about "slavery and ministry" in the New Testament and it's applicability to discussions of hermeneutics and social roles with regard to women. Hopefully a post will be born of that train of thought sooner than later. I've also been deeply dug into Allan Coppedge's The God Who Is Triune, which is a great introduction on the Trinity (and the Shack and some of the issues it raises are still bouncing around in my head, and Coppedge's book is very insightful on how we think about the Trinity). More to come in the following days and weeks, including a report of all the books I did and didn't buy at AAR.