So That We Might Keep Watch

Ephrem the Syrian, writing in the fourth century, made some of the same points I've made about early Christian eschatology. He doesn't limit the units of time that aren't known in Mark 13:32 to smaller ones, but takes them to include larger ones, like the generational timeframe, as well. He cites Acts 1:7 in the process, as I've often done. He refers to how Jesus is communicating the fact that all generations are to be on watch. He refers to how there are some general signs of the times that are in place in every generation, a point I've often made:

He also said, But, of that hour no one knows, not even the angels, nor the Son [Matthew 24:36], lest they question him as to the moment of his coming. It is not your business to know the days and the times. [Acts 1:7] He has hidden that [from us] so that we might keep watch, and that each of us might think that this coming would take place during our life. For, if the time of his coming were to be revealed, his coming would be in vain, and it would not have been desired by the nations and the ages in which it was to take place. He has indeed said that he will come [cf. Matthew 24:30], but he did not define when, and [thus] all generations and ages thirst for him. For, although he has given [an indication of] the signs of his coming, their end cannot be understood, since they have come and gone in a constant flux and yet they remain always....

Or perhaps he knew the time but the moment was hidden from him? But the time is a moment, and a moment is part of time....

He highlighted his signs so that, from the first day, all peoples and ages would think that his coming would take place in their day.

(Carmel McCarthy, trans., Saint Ephrem's Commentary On Tatian's Diatessaron [New York: Oxford University Press, 2000], 18:15-16; pp. 278-80)

Support For Reformation Beliefs Among The Pre-Reformation Hussites (Part 3)

Murray Wagner refers to how Petr Chelcicky "denounced the doctrine of purgatory...Chelcicky's rejection of purgatory has its precedent among the Waldenses and Lollards and is paralleled in the Taborite demand that chantries for the dead and intercessory prayers to the saints also be abolished." (Petr Chelcicky [Scottsdale, Pennsylvania: Herald Press, 1983], 121-23) Wagner refers to how Chelcicky ridiculed "the veneration of saints" (127) and was "critical of prayers of intercession to the saints" (143). Craig Atwood refers to Taborite opposition to images (The Theology Of The Czech Brethren From Hus To Comenius [University Park, Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2009], 118). Katerina Hornickova writes:

In reality, the view of saints’ merits and intervention in Hussite and Utraquist teaching varied among different fractions of the religious movement, from refusal by the radicals to acceptance by conservatives....

With the influence of Matthew of Janov, and wyclifite ideas on the Hussite theologians Jacobellus of Stříbro and Nicolas of Dresden, the radical Hussite party’s view of the contemporary Catholic cultic practices of veneration of saints’ relics and images was largely negative....

[quoting Nicolas Biskupec of Pelhřimov] "from the authority of the doctors it is clear that invocations and prayers are (forms of) cult that are appropriate only for God…Therefore we do not pray and invoke the saints, nor do we seek help from them and thus impede the cult that only God deserves"...

Nicolas’ ideas were developed in the writings of Petr Chelčický (c. 1390–1460), an original thinker, close to the radicals, in his writings of 1430s-1440s. The founding ideology of what came to be the Unity of Brethren takes on a similar critical view on the cult of saints, refusing the intercession of the Virgin Mary and the saints.

Some of the more radical Hussites were premillennialists for a while (Murray Wagner, Petr Chelcicky [Scottsdale, Pennsylvania: Herald Press, 1983], 33).

Atwood writes that "The churches that developed out of the Hussite reforms made congregational singing a central part of worship decades before Martin Luther set Protestant doctrine to tavern tunes." (The Theology Of The Czech Brethren From Hus To Comenius [University Park, Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2009], 52)

Regarding literacy, education, and the reading of scripture: "The Czech Reformation had made lay reading of the vernacular Bible a key component of reform, but in Prague it was primarily the aristocracy and wealthy burghers who had this privilege. The Taborites extended biblical literacy to the common people. This ideal of an educated, active laity would bear rich fruit in the Unity, especially in Comenius's advocacy of universal education." (111)

Problems With Citing 2 Thessalonians 2:15 Against Sola Scriptura

When 2 Thessalonians 2:15 comes up in discussions related to the Christian rule of faith, we can begin by going several verses earlier and asking whether the oral teaching Paul refers to in 2 Thessalonians 2:6 has been preserved. It's a disputed passage that different people have interpreted in different ways.

Beyond the specifics of 2:6, 2 Thessalonians in general is in large part about eschatology. When we look at the early oral eschatological traditions, such as the ones found in Papias and Irenaeus, they're largely premillennial, even though the most prominent modern critics of sola scriptura reject premillennialism. Centuries after Papias, Jerome referred to "a very large multitude" of orthodox Christians who were premillennialists in his day (in Thomas Scheck, trans., St. Jerome: Commentary On Isaiah [Mahwah, New Jersey: The Newman Press, 2015], pp. 820-21, section 18:1 in the commentary). Augustine was a premillennialist early in his Christian life. Wasn't the church infallibly maintaining the oral eschatological traditions Paul had given the Thessalonians?

And, aside from the teachings in 2 Thessalonians and its surrounding context, such as eschatology, we could ask about oral information in general. The Thessalonians knew a lot about Paul: what he looked like, what his handwriting looked like (3:17), what sort of work he did when he was among them (3:8), etc. Biographers of Paul and many other people would like to have that information. So, why don't these critics of sola scriptura produce it? Or has so much oral information across so many contexts been lost over time, to the point where critics of sola scriptura have to admit that they've lost a large amount of oral information that was part of the original context of 2 Thessalonians?

These considerations don't prove sola scriptura, and an advocate of something other than sola scriptura could avoid an appeal to 2 Thessalonians 2:15 or supplement it with whatever else. But factors like what I've mentioned above make it evident that appealing to 2 Thessalonians 2:15 alone isn't enough to make a case against sola scriptura, and 2 Thessalonians as a whole poses some difficulties for the most common alternatives to sola scriptura.

Early Non-Christian Ignorance Of A False Date For Jesus' Second Coming

The charge that Jesus and the earliest Christians set a false date for Jesus' second coming is a common objection to Christianity. I've said a lot about it over the years. One of the points I've made is that the early opponents of Christianity show no awareness of such a false prediction, which makes far more sense if there wasn't such a prediction. See here, for example. In that post, I brought up Celsus' treatise against Christianity. It's valuable for a variety of reasons. It's a second-century source, which is early. It was written by a pagan who consulted one or more Jewish sources, so it represents not only the views of multiple non-Christian sources, but also sources of significant diversity (pagan and Jewish). And a large percentage of the treatise has been preserved through Origen's interactions with it. (See my post linked above for documentation.) However, something I didn't do in that post was mention that the topic of false prophets comes up in the treatise. For example, Celsus objected to false prophets in Judaism and elsewhere, even ones he allegedly had met himself:

"And Celsus is not to be believed when he says that he has heard such men prophesy; for no prophets bearing any resemblance to the ancient prophets have appeared in the time of Celsus. If there had been any, those who heard and admired them would have followed the example of the ancients, and have recorded the prophecies in writing. And it seems quite clear that Celsus is speaking falsely, when he says that 'those prophets' whom he had heard, on being pressed by him, 'confessed their true motives, and acknowledged that the ambiguous words they used really meant nothing.' He ought to have given the names of those whom he says he had heard, if he had any to give, so that those who were competent to judge might decide whether his allegations were true or false." (in Origen, Against Celsus, 7:11)

So, it isn't just that Celsus and his Jewish source(s) don't refer to a false date set for Jesus' second coming. Rather, it goes even further than that. They're silent about such a false prediction even though the topic of false prophecy came up, and they objected to false prophecies in other contexts. And the alleged false date for Jesus' second coming isn't brought up in other relevant contexts either (e.g., discussions of eschatology).

The Popularity Of Premillennialism In Jerome's Day

In earlier posts, such as here, I've discussed the popularity of premillennialism during the earliest centuries of church history. The degree to which it was popular is often underestimated. Jerome referred to "a very large multitude" of orthodox Christians who were premillennialists in his day (in Thomas Scheck, trans., St. Jerome: Commentary On Isaiah [Mahwah, New Jersey: The Newman Press, 2015], pp. 820-21, section 18:1 in the commentary).

Does Mark 9:1 set a false date for the second coming?

Here are some comments I posted in the YouTube thread on early Christian eschatology that I linked earlier:

Some Problems With Singling Out Mark 13:30

Critics of early Christian eschatology often allege that Mark 13:30 makes a false prediction that Jesus' second coming will occur before the end of his generation. There are multiple contextual problems with that interpretation, as I've discussed on other occasions (verse 29 excludes the second coming from the "all these things" of verse 30, and verses 32-33 deny that a date can be set for the second coming). But what if a critic would suggest that we remove verse 30 from its surrounding context and take it as a genuine record of what the historical Jesus taught, whereas the surrounding context I've referred to is inauthentic?

Was Jesus a false prophet?

Here's a really good video by Than Christopoulos and Bram Rawlings on the claim that Jesus and the early Christians falsely predicted the timing of the second coming. This is a topic that critics of Christianity often bring up, but Christians typically don't respond nearly as well as they could. Bram makes many significant points, and I recommend keeping a record of the URL for future reference. (He also writes for Think Christian Theism, and you can find some posts there on these eschatological issues.)

The Importance Of And Evidence For Paul's Authorship Of Ephesians

I've sometimes brought up the importance of Ephesians 6:1-3 in the context of early Christian eschatology. I've also mentioned the evidence Ephesians provides for Jesus' Bethlehem birthplace. And the letter is valuable in other apologetic and non-apologetic contexts. People typically underestimate the importance of Paul's authorship of the document. They also underestimate the evidence for his authorship.

Why wasn't early Christian eschatology criticized more?

In my last post, I argued that the earliest opponents of Christianity don't seem to have thought that Jesus and his followers falsely predicted the timing of his second coming. That raises the question of why they didn't make that accusation. Modern critics of Christianity frequently make the accusation that Jesus, Paul, and the early Christians in general set a false date for Jesus' return. Why would there be such a difference between Christianity's earliest opponents and its modern critics?

Nobody Knows The Day Or Hour

A couple of years ago, I had a discussion on Facebook with a non-Christian who was raising the popular objection that early Christianity had falsely predicted the timing of Jesus' second coming. You can click on the link just provided to read the discussion in its entirety while it's available. But I want to post my end of the discussion here for those who don't have access to Facebook and in case it wouldn't be available on Facebook in the future for whatever reason.

Who has the bigger prophecy problem?

James Tabor recently posted a video in which he discusses some aspects of ancient Jewish messianic movements. He portrays Jesus as a failed apocalyptic prophet whose movement had to adjust their eschatology over time, since Jesus' prediction about his second coming wasn't fulfilled. That's a common objection to Christianity. I've written a lot about it over the years, and some of what I've written hasn't been posted on Triablogue, so I want to use this post to gather some links to my material. I won't be linking everything I've written. Anybody who's interested can search our archives for more material like what I'll be citing below. These are just some highlights.

Tabor refers to how he's become increasingly open to a later dating of the gospel of Luke, even to placing it in the second century. He contrasts the eschatology of Luke/Acts to the eschatology found in the gospel of Mark. But the internal and external evidence strongly support a date for Luke/Acts no later than the mid 60s. See here for a brief overview of that internal and external evidence and links to other posts that go into more depth. It's also worth noting that placing Mark and Luke so far apart in time, especially under a scenario in which Luke isn't written until the second century, offers a weaker explanation of the similarities between Mark and Luke. They are, after all, commonly grouped together, with Matthew, as the Synoptics. The similarities among those three gospels don't require that the documents were written closer together, but their being written closer in time makes more sense of their similarities. So, Tabor's dating of Mark and Luke is problematic in all of these contexts.

But whatever dates you assign to Mark and Luke/Acts, the contrast Tabor draws between Acts 1:7 and the eschatology of Mark is wrong. As far as I recall, Tabor's video doesn't discuss Mark 13:32-33, which demonstrates that "day and hour" are interchangeable with "time", so that Mark 13 is in agreement with Acts 1.

For a summary of some of the most significant points that can be made against the claim that Jesus and the earliest Christians falsely predicted the timing of his second coming, go here. That post includes a link to another one that discusses the issues in a lot more detail.

Several years later, I had a discussion on Facebook with a non-Christian about the alleged false eschatology of the early Christians. It was largely about whether the early opponents of Christianity reacted to the alleged false prophecy as we'd expect them to have reacted if there was such a false prediction. I make some points there that I've seldom or never seen other people bring up (e.g., the discussion of Lucian's comments on Christianity). After following the link above, you'll have to click on Comments in the lower right to see the comments section, then keep clicking on the relevant areas to see the entirety of the comments that follow.

A bigger issue than the alleged false prediction of the timing of Jesus' second coming is the fulfillment of other prophecies. The latter is much more difficult for the non-Christian to explain than it is for the Christian to explain the former. We have Jewish (and, in that sense, non-Christian) documents like Ezra and Nehemiah that place Jesus' life in significant alignment with Daniel's Seventy Weeks prophecy. Non-Christians acknowledge that the Romans later destroyed both Jerusalem and the temple. Jesus' Galilean connections, his initial rejection by the Jewish people, his widespread influence on the Gentile world, and other facts about him that are widely admitted by non-Christians put him in significant alignment with Isaiah's Servant Songs and other passages connected to them in Isaiah. Psalm 22 is strikingly reminiscent of a crucifixion scene, and the psalm concludes by referring to the major significance of what's happened, how people across the world will hear about it and turn to God as a result of what's been accomplished (verses 27-31). See here for a collection of Christian prophecies fulfilled by non-Christians or whose fulfillment was corroborated by non-Christians. For an explanation of why it's inadequate for critics to object that the prophecies in question allegedly aren't Messianic, along with responses to other common skeptical objections, see here and here.

Does everything we do have eternal significance?

What Really Matters in Life
James Bejon

What follows is an article written for my church newsletter. It is heavily influenced by thoughts prompted by David Field's "Not the Least Lash Lost", which I consider to be a simply superb and must-read piece of work.

Scripture does not provide us with many details about the afterlife, but it is profitable for us to think deeply about the fact and nature of it. Absent an afterlife, life is 'vanity'. The world goes round and round in circles, and who knows whether our brief lives' accomplishments will profit the wise or the foolish in the days to come? (Let us eat and drink, for 'tomorrow' we die.) Yet, as Christians, we have a sure hope. Our actions and their consequences continue on into the next world in some way. But in what way? Insofar as they are rewarded (or not) at the judgment seat? In part, no doubt. But might there not be more to it than that? Martin Luther is reported to have said, "If I knew the world would end tomorrow, I would still plant my apple tree today". Would we? It all depends on how we view life's continuity-discontinuity questions.

Consider the flood. The flood was a major discontinuity in world history. But the people who left the ark were the same people who boarded it. Like every other man in history, Noah was a product of his past life and past decisions. What he did before he boarded the ark determined the kind of man he would be when he left the ark and stepped out into God's new creation. (People, after all, are not abstract entities; they are the sum products of their pasts and past decisions.) So, what about the day of the Lord's return and of the Resurrection? To what extent does our pre-resurrection life affect our post-resurrection life? Might not what is true of Noah be true of us? Let us put the question in more practical terms. Does everything we do have eternal significance? Or just some things? Cooking the dinner, disciplining our children, doing a good day's work, caring for a relative who may or may not be saved: Are these tasks ultimately irrelevant necessities? Or is there more to it than that? My suspicion is as follows: everything we do, in some way or other, reverberates on into eternity. At times, Scripture emphasises the discontinuity between the present world and the world to come (e.g., 2 Pet. 3), while, at times, Scripture emphasises the continuity between the two worlds. (At Christ's return, for instance, the kingdoms of the world become his kingdoms, and the deeds of the saints follow them into the heavenly realms and clothe in preparation for their return, and the kings of the earth thereafter bring their glory to the city of God: Rev. 11.15, 14.13, 19.8, 21.23-26.) Both sides of the coin are vital for us to appreciate.

Consider, by way of illustration, Jesus' resurrection body—a body whose appearance marked the genesis of a new age. Weren't the hands with which Jesus broke the bread en route to Emmaus in some sense the same hands which were nailed to the cross a few days before hand? And which fashioned wood in Nazareth? And which Mary and Joseph held as they walked Jesus as a young child? Wouldn't Jesus have looked like Mary and inherited certain traits from her? Didn't Mary's actions in that sense at least survive on into the resurrection world? (And might not similar things be able to be said of our own hands and what they have done?) Consider, in this connection, Paul's statements in 1 Cor. 15. The bodies which we commit to the earth when we die are the same bodies which are raised. (Continuity and discontinuity again.) Our bodies together with whatever has affected them are the raw materials of the resurrection. What grows in the resurrection depends on what seed is planted. And, as a result, Paul says, our toils are not 'in vain' (15.58). Now, does that word 'vain' remind you of our initial reference to Ecclesiastes (vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas)? The reminiscence, I suspect, is deliberate. Precisely those labours which are rendered vain by death—the labours of planting and plucking up, healing and punishing, keeping and casting away, weeping and laughing—are redeemed and preserved in value by the resurrection. As one writer puts it, "When we are raised,...the work we have done in the present, in the service of [our] new master, will, [no doubt to our great surprise], turn out to be part not only of who we are, but of the new world he will have brought into being".

But what about our sins? Well, we will not live in eternal regret at what we did or failed to do in the present life. (Our sins will not be 'remembered' against us.) Of that much I am sure. But just as, here on earth, our consciousness of our sins affects—and even heightens—our sense of gratitude as we worship (Luke 7.41-47), so too, I believe, they will do in eternity. When we sing, 'Worthy is the Lamb who was slain', we will know exactly what he was slain for, since the more we know about Christ's work, the more we will appreciate it. The nature of our failures will inform Christ's people of the scope and glory of Christ's work of forgiveness, just as the nature of our frailties and disabilities will inform Christ's people of the scope and glory of Christ's work of restoration. We may not all have the same ministries, bodies, or abilities as one another, but everything we do in life ultimately matters.

Did Jesus And The Early Christians Misdate The Second Coming?

I recently had a discussion on Facebook with a former professing Christian who argued that Jesus and the early Christians falsely predicted that Jesus' second coming would occur before the end of Jesus' generation. The discussion focused on whether the early opponents of Christianity reacted to the alleged false prophecy as we'd expect them to have reacted if there was such a false prediction. You can read the exchange here. You'll have to click on Comments in the lower right to see the comments section, then keep clicking on the relevant areas to see the entirety of the comments that follow.

The world next door

Because much of what the Bible describes is indetectable to natural perception, that can lend Christianity an air of unreality. The Bible describes heaven. A realm of souls and spirits. The Bible describes the world to come. A future reality that lies out of sight.

But we're ordinarily immersed in the physical, sensible world of the present, with many traces of the past. The living are sealed away in this world, like a snowglobe.

There are, however, many exceptions. And they range along a continuum. Exceptions where the supernatural breaks into our mundane existence. At one end of the continuum, an unmistakable answer to prayer or a special providence.

Further along, God speaking to a Christian in an audible voice. Or an angelic apparition. Or a Christophany. We normally experience a clockwork universe, but some Christians, or Christians sometimes, experience something reaching in from outside the clockwork universe. And this can include the activity of evil spirits.

Canonical examples include revelatory dreams and visions, where seers perceive heaven or the world to come.

However, even if we set aside the supernatural examples where there's crossover traffic, dreams are a useful reminder that our perception of reality is very compartmentalized, and what appears to be real or unreal is dramatically variable.

You can have a very vivid, tangible, detailed dream that seems to be just a real as waking experience. It can be like stepping right into another world. The world next door. It was there all along, but you can't be simultaneously conscious of both. Indeed, for the dreamer, the dreamscape seems more real because that's what he's perceiving at the time. The world outside the dream is indetectable. So there's a reversal. He's immersed in the dreamscape. A different snowglobe, sealed off from the waking world.

Of course, ordinary dreams are imaginary, although they may tap into something larger than individual human minds. The point, though, is that dreams illustrate how easy it would be for our mundane world to coexist with a supernatural realm. How what may seem to have an air of unreality is right on the other side. How easy it would be to slide back and forth between them. In that respect, dreams have great emblematic value.

"Death is what gives life meaning"

@SecularOutpost

Death is what gives life meaning.

The fact that life can be lost is what makes life meaningful.

It’s the risk of loss of one’s own life that gives the other things meaning.

https://twitter.com/SecularOutpost/status/1236376219597168640

1. You can file this under: if you want a shallow answer to an existential question, ask an atheist.  

Atheists face a dilemma of their own making. How do they play the losing hand they dealt themselves? Some of them are more forthright about the consequences. By contrast, Jeff's strategy is to make a virtue of necessity.  

Olivet Discourse synoptic parallels

https://faiththinkers.org/olivet-discourse-and-parallels

Justice is done

J. I. Packer:

Christian fairy tales, with savior heroes and plots that end in what Tolkien called a eucatastrophe – whereby things come right after seeming to go irrevocably wrong. Villains are foiled, people in jeopardy are freed, justice is done, and the ending is happy...The gospel of Christ is the archetype of all such stories. Paganism unleavened by Christianity, on the other hand, was and always will be pessimistic at heart.

Roger Nicole:

Mysteries represent a tremendously optimistic outlook on the place of justice in life. In mysteries the guilty are always brought to justice, which is not always the case in life at this level. It will be the case at the last judgement. But at this level there are people who escape the tentacles of the law. But the mystery situation demands there be a sleuth to bring the criminal to justice. That is the thing that is so deeply satisfying. Every time the force of justice wins.

From temple and Transfiguration to Pentecost

A. For secular readers, Ezk 40-48 is a classic example of a failed hope. This was Ezekiel's utopian ancipation for what awaited the post-exilic community. But it never happened. Before getting more specific, I have a few preliminary observations:

B. Strictly speaking, it's not a prophecy. It is descriptive rather than predictive. A verbalized record of what Ezekiel saw in a vision. It has no calendar for when that will happen. It doesn't locate the outcome in the post-exilic restoration. That said, it certainly fosters an expectation regarding the future. 

C. Revelatory dreams and visions may either be literal or allegorical. For instance, the dreams in the Joseph Cycle (Gen 37-50) are allegorical. Likewise, the visions of Zechariah are often allegorical. So even if the outcome doesn't literally correspond to the description, that doesn't falsify it. The comparison may operate at an analogical level–like the revelatory dreams in the Joseph Cycle. A critic might object that this is special pleading, but analogical fulfillment can be clearly recognizable. 

The best of both worlds

1. I assume much of the appeal of time-travel scenarios and parallel universe scenarios lies in the fact that in reality, we can't go through both doors at once. There are unrealized possibilities we wish we could explore.

There are situations where, with the benefit of hindsight, we'd make a different choice. At least if we could hang onto the good things. One of the principles that time-travel stories illustrate is that when you change even one variable, that has a domino effect. By changing one variable, you change the direction of all the succeeding dominos.

2. In addition, there are situations where, if we had the benefit of hindsight, we wouldn't change anything despite having the benefit of hindsight, even if the consequences are, in some respects, undesirable. Because we know the consequences, we'd repeat the same chain of events in spite of undesirable consequences. 

For instance, suppose I have a younger blind brother. We're about a year and a half apart. Because he's more dependent on me than a sighted brother, I'm closer to him than if he was sighted. If he was sighted, it would be easier to take him for granted. 

Still, there are brotherly things I'd like us to do together that I can't do with him. I can't go hiking with him because he can't see. I mean, I could still go hiking with him, I could take him by the hand. But part of the pleasure of hiking is sightseeing, and that's not something he's in a position to appreciate. So it won't be a shared experience at that level, yet the point of doing things together is for the shared experience. This leaves me with three options:

i) Go hiking with friends, and take him along, even though he won't get much out of it. My friends and I will be talking about things we see on the trail, that he can't see. That's insensitive. 

ii) Go hiking with friends, but leave him behind. Yet that would be mean.

iii) Skip hiking to avoid the dilemma. But in that event we both miss out. 

3. Suppose I have access to the proverbial time machine. I don't know the night on which he was conceived, but I have a rough idea of the time range, and if I travel back into the past several times, I'll be able to disrupt parential activities on the crucial evening. Would I do it? Should I do it?

i) Even from a purely selfish standpoint, that might backfire. I might get a sister instead of a new brother! Not that there's anything wrong with having a sister, but if the problem is that I'm unable to do the usual brotherly stuff with my blind brother, then I can't very well do it with a sister. And it would serve me right. 

ii) Perhaps, moreover, my mother isn't very fertile. She might have a condition like polycystic ovarian syndrome. She only had a few babies on tap. By preempting my blind brother's conception, I don't get a sighted brother in his place–I get nothing. My mother only had two brothers on tap. Once again, it would serve me right.

4. From a Christian standpoint, sacrificial love is a deeper kind of love. Love that's cost-free isn't very loving. That's fair-weather love, which is barely love at all. I don't love you for you, but only for what I might get out of it. 

5. Finally, from a Christian standpoint, if my brother and I die in the faith, then in the world to come we'll be young again, and this time around my brother will be sighted. So we'll be able to do the brotherly stuff we missed out on in this life. We'll have our memories from this life, we'll have the special bond that's a carryover from his disability, but without the disability. Truly the best of both worlds. Two kinds of goods that can't happen in the same world history, but are now combined as two different world histories converge in the eschaton.