Showing posts with label Practical Theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Practical Theology. Show all posts

Sunday, October 16, 2022

The Letters of Samuel Rutherford

I love The Letters of Samuel Rutherford. I think they should be far better known than they are. In fact, I'd say The Letters of Samuel Rutherford should be considered a Christian literary classic. Just like (say) The Confessions by Augustine of Hippo, Proslogion by Anselm of Canterbury, The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, Communion with God by John Owen, The Religious Affections by Jonathan Edwards, etc.

For one thing, The Letters of Samuel Rutherford offer a historical window into the 1600s. The age of the Puritans. Rutherford lived from 1600-1661. A time of tremendous political and religious upheaval in the British isles and continental Europe. A time when there was both philosophical theorizing over the proper relationship between church vs. state (e.g. Thomas Hobbes wrote his Leviathan during this period; Rutheford also penned Lex, Rex) as well as literal persecutions and wars with the state and its arm of the established church (episcopacy) attempting to subjugate genuin Christians. The English Civil War, Crown vs. Parliament, the beheading of Charles I which was shocking at the time since monarchs had virtually never been executed by their people, Oliver Cromwell and the Roundheads, and so on. Yet it was likewise a time of tremendous reformation and revival for Protestant Christians. The Westminster Assembly was convened in this period by Parliament to reform the church, and Rutherford played a role in it. And consider that Rutherford lived contemporaneously with fellow Christians like John Owen (1616-1683), John Bunyan (1628-1688), Blaise Pascal (1623-1662); political leaders like Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658), William Bradford who governed Plymouth Colony (1590-1657), King James of the KJV (1566-1625); artists like Rembrandt (1606-1669), Shakespeare (1564-1616), John Milton (1608-1674); and scientists like Galileo (1565-1642), Kepler (1571-1630), even Isaac Newton as a young man (1643-1727). I think there are some significant parallels from this period with us today.

More importantly, I think, The Letters display Rutherford as a devoted pastor who dearly loved his flock. Ironically, the bulk of The Letters (approximately 220 out of 365 letters) were written while Rutherford was in exile away from his flock. His flock lived in and around the little town of Anwoth in southwest Scotland near the English border. However, Rutherford was forced to move away from Anwoth by the ecclesiastical powers-that-be of the day. They forced Rutherford to live far north in Aberdeen where the ecclesiastical powers-that-be thought he'd be silenced. Yet thanks to God's providence, thanks to God who can bring good out of evil, Rutherford's exile did the opposite of silencing him inasmuch as his exile served as a major inspiration behind The Letters. Even today we can say of The Letters of Samuel Rutherford: "though he died, he still speaks" (Heb 11:4).

Finally, in terms of practical theology, The Letters illustrate Rutherford's deep care in guiding his flock, most of whom were average laypeople, from highborn to lowborn, how to walk with the Lord in tremendous suffering. Suffering that most of us today wouldn't have to face. Suffering that most of us today hear but faint echoes of when we hear of tragedies in developing nations or persecutions in nations like China or the Muslim world. From losing one's spouse and/or children to dealing with debilitating diseases to enemies of the faith seeking to literally kill them. Rutherford himself lost a wife at a young age (~30) as well as experienced the deaths of all but one of his half a dozen children. All the while Rutherford holds forth to his flock (and to us) "the loveliness of Christ".

To my knowledge, Banner of Truth publishes two versions of The Letters. A Puritan Paperbacks edition that contains a selection of Rutherford's letters and a full version that contains all 365 of Rutherford's letters along with other material (e.g. a biographical sketch of Rutherford's life). Personally I'd recommend the full version (ISBN-10 0851513883 | ISBN-13 978-0851513881). The full version is also available to download and read for free via Project Gutenberg which in turn is made possible thanks entirely to Andrew Bonar's work (see here). In fact, the Banner of Truth's full version is a facsimile edition of Andrew Bonar's work back in the 1800s so you'd get the same edition via Project Gutenberg as Banner of Truth publishes. (Banner of Truth has likewise published The Loveliness of Christ which is a very short book that takes a handful of quotations or excerpts from The Letters. It's much briefer than even the Puritan Paperbacks edition of The Letters. It's a good book to whet one's appetite for the full work.)

Portage Publications has a nice pdf version of The Letters. And our friends at Monergism have done various versions of The Letters as well.

Some others who have commended The Letters:

  • Charles Spurgeon: "When we are dead and gone let the world know that Spurgeon held Rutherford's Letters to be the nearest thing to inspiration which can be found in all the writings of mere men."
  • Richard Baxter (who was no friend to Presbyterians including Rutherford): "Hold off the Bible, such a book as Mr. Rutherford's Letters the world never saw the like."
  • A contemporary of Robert Murray M'Cheyne's said that "The Letters of Samuel Rutherford were often in his hand".
  • Handley Moule: "[The Letters are] a small casket stored with many jewels".

One last thing. I've long loved the poem and hymn "The Sands of Time Are Sinking", written by Anne R. Cousin, based on The Letters of Samuel Rutherford. The full edition of The Letters has a section that tells us which letters lie behind the poem. And I enjoy this version of the hymn:

Thursday, September 03, 2020

"Former Psychopath Dr. David Wood Shares His Astounding Transformation Into Christian Apologist"

Just my own summary:

1. David Wood goes into some depth about his testimony or conversion with Eric Metaxas. It starts at approximately 32:30 with Wood meeting another inmate named Randy who was a Christian. Wood saw Randy always sitting in his bunk reading his Bible. Randy wouldn't do anything the other inmates were doing.

2. One day Wood told Randy he was only reading the Bible because Randy was born in the US. If Randy had been born in China, then he'd be Buddhist. If India, Hindu. If Saudi Arabia, Muslim. Wood also told Randy "people like you believe whatever you're told to believe". Wood had the same idea of Christianity that he had of objective morality - that it's just a false belief that people are told by others, which they accept, because they don't know how to think for themselves. I guess Wood's idea is that Randy is a sheep. Like everyone else. Except for Wood himself.

3. However, Randy was the first Christian to put up a fight against Wood and argue back against Wood. Randy challenged Wood. The most "annoying" thing for Wood was that Randy would constantly question everything Wood himself believed: "Where did you get your idea then?" And Wood couldn't respond to Randy. Other than with silence.

Sunday, July 19, 2020

A Christian's Perseverance And Growth

Last year, I wrote about how to grow as a Christian. In addition to my own comments, the post links some remarks Steve Hays made on a related topic.

"It is hard to understand how an orthodox, evangelical, Bible-believing Christian can fail to be excited. The answers in the realm of the intellect should make us overwhelmingly excited. But more than this, we are returned to a personal relationship with the God who is there. If we are unexcited Christians, we should go back and see what is wrong." (Francis Schaeffer, The God Who Is There [Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 1998], 190)

At ease in Zion! Where is then the cross,
The Master's cross, all pain and shame defying?
Where is the true disciple's cross and cup,
The daily conflict and the daily dying,
The fearless front of faith, the noble self-denying?

At ease in Zion! Shall no sense of shame
Arouse us from our self-indulgent dreaming?
No pity for the world? No love to Him
Who braved life's sorrow and man's disesteeming,
Us to God's light and joy by His dark death redeeming?
(Horatius Bonar, "At Ease In Zion", Hymns Of The Nativity [London, England: James Nisbet & Co., 1879], 35-36)

Monday, July 13, 2020

Nothing Is More Pragmatic Than Theology

In my daily reading of scripture, I recently came to chapter 7 in Matthew's gospel, where the section commonly referred to as the Sermon on the Mount ends. It's striking how Jesus' remarks close with his referring to the significance of the afterlife (7:21), himself as mankind's judge, who judges based on people's relationship with him (7:23), and his words as foundational to life (7:24). Matthew highlights how the crowd was impressed by his authority (7:29), not something like his sincerity, emotions, or love.

Modern culture typically gives far more attention to some of Jesus' earlier comments, such as what he said about peacemakers (5:9) and loving your enemies (5:44). There are many comments Jesus makes earlier in the Sermon on the Mount about God, the afterlife, and such, which often get ignored or underestimated, but the closing remarks of chapter 7 are especially striking.

One reason that's often given for placing so much focus on things like peacemaking and loving your enemies (often defined in highly anti-Biblical ways that Jesus would have opposed) is that such teachings are so pragmatic. By contrast, teachings about God, salvation, prayer, the afterlife, and such allegedly are far less practical, if they're practical at all. The same individuals who put so much emphasis on what Jesus said about loving people often ignore or give little attention to what Jesus said about how loving God is more important (Matthew 22:37-39). While modern culture has such inordinate concern about short-term physical welfare (giving people food, clothing, shelter, and medicine; helping them find a job; sexual pleasures, humor, and such), Jesus tells people to be prepared to give up something like an eye or a hand for welfare in the afterlife (Matthew 5:29-30, 18:8-9). I wrote the following about this subject on Facebook a few years ago:

Nothing is more pragmatic than theology. I recently had a conversation with a friend whose mother-in-law is dying. He's concerned that his mother-in-law, who comes from a Roman Catholic background, have the peace, comfort, joy, and other advantages of knowing that she's going to heaven rather than purgatory. But how many people are concerned enough about a subject like purgatory to research it to any significant extent before they get close to death? Our culture encourages us to not have much concern about theology in general, and, more specifically, it's often suggested, even by Christian leaders, that the differences between Catholics and Protestants don't matter much. Would they hold the same view on their deathbed, when the difference between heaven and purgatory is staring them in the face? Or would they tell a dying parent or friend to not be concerned about the issue? What if their child were to start praying to the dead? Would they be as unconcerned about the subject as they are now, when they're addressing it at a more abstract level? Theology is foundational to everything from the reliability of our reasoning to our purpose in life, what value we place on human life, our morality, and our hopes for justice and life after death. People who don't see the pragmatism in theology aren't thinking about it enough.

Jesus thought that matters like the primacy of God and the afterlife are deeply pragmatic and highly important.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

Bridges

Over the course of a lifetime, people often acquire ever more stuff. When they're younger they may live in an apartment. Later buy a house. Later buy a bigger house. Then, as they get up in years the process reverses itself. They may downsize by moving into a retirement home. Then, if they move into a nursing home, all their stuff fits into one cabinet. Their life shrinks to the size of one room, shared with somebody else.  

From a Christian perspective, life is like a series of bridges. Each time you cross a bridge, it served its purpose. You don't look back. You put it behind you. I don't mean fond memories. I mean things along the way that get you through the obstacle paths of the Christian pilgrimage. A means to an end. Passageways at key junctures. 

Saturday, April 18, 2020

Should we warn children about hell?

Looming large in many deconversion accounts are apostates who complain that their parents terrorized them by threatening them with hell. Their childhood was haunted by fear of God. Should Christian parents warn children about the danger of hell? 

i) Christian pedagogy, like pedagogy in general, needs to be age-appropriate, suited to the cognitive development of children. What we teach a 5-year-old and what we teach an 15-year old may be two different things. We may save some teachings for a later age.

ii) There's certainly a point at which the doctrine of hell should certainly be part of their instruction in the Christian faith. And they can also pick that up on their own when they're old enough to read an adult version of the Bible. 

iii) Is "warning" children about the danger of hell a euphemism for threatening children with hell when they misbehave? The whole issue of whether any children are in peril of hell is an open question in theology. I don't think we have sufficient revelation to answer that question with any degree of certainty. I don't think we should issue a warning unless we have good reason to think they're at risk. Threats should be credible threats, not empty threats. 

iv) It can also be just lazy parental disciple to threaten young children with hell. Especially for childish misbehavior that's quite unlikely to rise to the level of damnable offenses. How much of that is just an expression of parental exasperation, because it's so easy to threaten them with hell? 

v) What about adolescents and teenagers? Do they need to be warned about hell? One question is whether there's a distinction between teaching them about hell and warning them about hell. If they already understand the nature of hell, and the believe it, do they also need a personal parenting warning? I mean, just reading about hell in the Bible will acquaint them with warnings about hell.

vi) Apropos (v), do you need to be warned not to stick your fingers in a blender, then push the start button? If you know what a blender is, you don't need a warning over and above your understanding of the blender not to stick your fingers inside when it's running. 

vii) I think what young children need is not to fear God but to be taught to love and trust God. Taught that God is someone to turn to in time of need. Or pray to for the needs of others. Young children need a sense of security. 

viii) It might be objected that just as it's proper and necessary for young children to both love and fear their parents, the same holds true for God. But I think the comparison breaks down. Although God can manifest himself to children directly, I think God is ordinarily an abstraction for children in a way that parents are not. If, say, Christian parents must spank a misbehaving child, that will be followed by an act of reconciliation–reaffirming their love for the child. That's very tangible in a way that a child's relationship with God generally is not. 

Of course, above a certain age, children should cultivate a more complete and adult understanding of God and hell, which includes a God-fearing attitude, as well as love, trust, devotion. 

BTW, my parents never threatened me with hell, so my own position isn't in reaction to my childhood. 

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Repetitious prayer

From a Facebook exchange:

John
How many time do we need to pray for a prayer request... So that God will listen....! If God can listen our prayer once... Why do people pray again and again for same prayer matter...?

Hays
Some prayer requests have a deadline.

John
Hoooo…. What about others...?

Hays
It's partly a question of priorities. Not all prayer requests are equally important to the petitioner.

Cayden
Doesn't God know which prayers are more important ? Why repetitively petition him?

Hays
I never said if we should or shouldn't repetitively petition him. Repetition doesn't mechanically raise the odds that God will answer a prayer. 

But it can be an indication of how much it means to us. How much we really care.

Cayden
So the repetition is to inform yourself.

Hays
No, it can simply be an indication of what lies heavy on our heart.

Cayden
An indication to whom? For what? To god? To make known to yourself what is heavy on your heart?

Hays 
Christians can feel burdened about particular issues. They may pray about it more often because they think about it more often. It's more central to their concerns. It's something they have on their mind. And unless and until their prayer request is granted, it's just natural to continue to pray about it because it occupies more of their attention.

Prayer was never about reminding God of a need. And it's not generally about reminding ourselves, as if we forgot. That said, there are things we pray for because we have a duty to pray for them, and then there are things we pray for because it's more personal.

Monday, April 06, 2020

Is the God of open theism trustworthy?

We're all mind-numbingly familiar with objections to Calvinism, but the flip side is whether the God of open theism is a God who can be taken seriously. Say what you will about Calvinism, but that's a God to be taken seriously (if Calvinism is true). But the God of open theism is more like a comic book superhero. 

This also goes to the question of what makes God worshipful. Opponents of Reformed theism say the God of Calvinism isn't worthy of worship.

But how worshipful is the God of open theism? Is he a God you can trust? 

Christians and their loved ones can suffer terrible things in this life. In Calvinism, God is able but sometimes unwilling to protect Christians from horrible things. At we at least believe that God has a good reason for not protecting us in those situations. So he's still trustworthy.

But in open theism you're exposed to terrible harm because the God of open theism is unable to protect you. Indeed, the God of open theism doesn't know the right thing to do because he doesn't know the future, so he doesn't know the long-term consequences of divine intervention. 

It's hard to see how you can have faith in a God like that. He's not in a position to look out for your best interests even if he wanted to. So he can't be an object of unconditional trust. 

Indeed, not knowing the future means he will be mistaken in many cases. He will entertain false expectations. Indeed, some open theist prooftexts say that. 

So following the open theist God can be unintentionally harmful, since he's making stuff up as he goes along. You can be hurt, but he can't (except emotionally). 

In open theism we are in a very real sense, on our own. That has ethical as well as religious ramifications. While that may sound liberating to the shallow-minded, it's terrifying when you consider how vulnerable human beings are. It's a recipe for ruthless self-interest, because it makes life so insecure. In open theism we're living in a minefield. 

Saturday, April 04, 2020

Demanding a sign

I already did a longer post on Bahnsen:


But now I'd like to revisit this particular claim:

The Christian cannot relinquish his submission to God’s authority in order to reason upon some alleged neutral ground. God makes a radical demand on the believer’s life which involves never demanding proof of God or trying Him. Even the Incarnate Son would not put God to the test, but rather relied upon the inscripturated word (cf. Matthew 4). The Christian does not look at the evidence impartially, standing on neutral ground with the unbeliever, waiting to see if the evidence warrants trust in God’s truthfulness or not. Rather, he begins by submitting to the truth of God, preferring to view every man as a liar if he contradicts God’s Word (cf. Romans 3:4). No one can demand proof from God, and the servant of the Lord should never give in to any such demand (and obviously, neither should he suggest that such a demand be made by the unbeliever). The apostles were certainly not afraid of evidence; yet we notice that they never argued on the basis of it. They preached the resurrection without feeling any need to prove it to the skeptics; they unashamably appealed to it as fact.


1. Frankly, I think there's a bit of bravado in Bahnsen's statement. Was he really that confident? Or is he just saying what he thinks he's supposed to say? 

2. Bahnsen's comparison with the temptation of Christ is disanalogous. Obviously Jesus has nothing to prove to Satan. And Jesus doesn't need a sign for himself. He the divine Son Incarnate. So this isn't a case of demanding a sign to be convinced in your own mind. 

This isn't even a case of demanding a sign to convince someone else. Satan already knows the true identity of Jesus. This is Satan's Hair Mary pass. His insane attempt to turn Jesus. 

3. Is it intrinsically wrong to demand a sign from God? I'll get to that in a moment, but suppose for argument's sake that it's always wrong to demand a sign from God. Even so, does it follow that it's necessarily wrong to ask God for a sign? Asking is different from demanding. Demanding implies conditional belief or obedience, where you won't do what God requires of you unless he provides a sign. By contrasting, asking implies that you're prepared to do what God requires of you anyway, but it would be a lot easier if he gave you a sign. Asking for a sign is humble in a way that demanding a sign is not. In distinction to making a demand, asking makes allowance for the distinct possibility that God may turn you down. I don't think Christians should routinely ask God for a sign, but I can think of situations where that doesn't seem to be faithless or presumptuous. The worst that can happen is that God will turn you down. Where's the harm? It's not like you're trying to force God's hand. Of course, there's the danger of disappointment, but that's true for prayer in general. 

4. In Scripture, many figures don't have to demand a sign from God or ask for a sign because they already have signs from God without the asking. So Bahnsen's logic is dubious in that regard. It fails to address the situation of people who don't need to demand a sign from God because it came to them unbidden. This doesn't prove that people have a right to demand a sign from God. It just means there's a serious gap in Bahnsen's argument. An in-between situation he fail to address. 

5. It also depends on where people are starting from. If, over centuries and millennia, a large body of evidence has accumulated regarding God and Scripture, then it's inappropriate to demand a sign. Inappropriate to demand new evidence. Indeed, that's often just a pretext. An excuse to disregard the preexisting evidence so that you can feel justified in not believing or obeying. 

Oftentimes, the mentality behind demanding a sign is that I'm entitled to firsthand evidence. God is obligated to perform a sign for me, to prove himself to me. 

But that's egotistical and irrational. I don't need firsthand evidence to know something is true. It many cases, it should suffice to rely on the experience of others. Indeed, we all rely on testimonial evidence. 

But at earlier stages in redemptive history, individuals don't have access to that collective body of evidence. So in their isolated situation, it doesn't seem inherently impious to ask for or even demand a sign. Especially when you consider what God requires of them. It's pretty important for them to know that God is the one who's telling them to do something.

And this can have parallels in space as well as time. There are geographically isolated individuals in the Christian era who don't own a Bible in their own language. 

6. In Scripture, and this also has parallels in church history–especially on the mission field–when an individual has an extraordinary calling from God, God is more likely to provide him with extraordinary signs. 

7. There's a paradoxical relationship between Christians, the disciples, and Scripture. To my knowledge, there are only two prophecies regarding the resurrection of the messiah–Isa 53 and the typological oracle in Ps 16. So there wasn't much to go on. To be convinced, the disciples needed more than Scripture–they needed the empty tomb and they needed to see the Risen Lord.

However, the comparison is equivocal because Christians have more Scripture than the disciples have. We aren't limited to two prophecies about the messiah's resurrection. Prophecies which, moreover, are a bit obscure without the context of fulfillment. 

Because the disciples were eyewitnesses to the Resurrection, and because the NT provides a record of the Resurrection, Christians can rely on the biblical witness in a way that the disciples were not in a position to while the disciples could rely on firsthand experience of the Resurrection in a way that Christians are not in a position to. 

Sunday, March 29, 2020

In the groove


A candid video. Several related issues:

1. It's much easier to convince yourself that you believe certain things if you're in a like-minded group. As social creatures we crave acceptance. We aim to please. So everyone plays their part. Doing what's expected of them.

I'm not necessarily saying that's a bad thing. Sometimes it's a good thing to have that positive social reinforcement. In the abstract, it's neutral. 

But it's a very thin foundation. And there are times in life when that's not enough. 

2. Many people are believers or unbelievers because they're in a particular groove and the groove keeps them moving in that direction. Many people are unbelievers not so much because they've given any deep thought to Christianity but because all their activities are secular. They're carried along by the inertia. 

Conversely, many people are believers because they move in a religious groove, in terms of their friends and activities. The routine keeps them in that lane. The routine keeps them going in that direction. 

3. There's also the pressure to live up to the expectations of others. We can also make career choices that put us in a particular lane. It's easier to stay in that lane and keep moving forward. In a way we don't have to do anything. It's already set up for us. We just carry on with our assigned duties. Like coasting down hill. It can become mechanical. 

However, that can also lead to a midlife crisis where we question whether we made a wrong turn. Would we make the same choice if we could go back in time? Or is it too late to start all over from scratch?

There are no right or wrong answers in the abstract. It depends on where the truth lies. 

Friday, March 27, 2020

Is it always wrong to violate a confidence?

A friend asked me whether it's always wrong to violate a confidence. Sharing a confidence involves a two-way trust. It carries the implicit condition that the individual sharing a confidence not abuse the trust or take advantage of the person he confides in. 

There's a prima facie obligation not to divulge information shared in confidence. But that's not absolute. For one thing, you don't know in advance what someone will confide in you, so you can't render informed consent to keep it secret. A person can't unilaterally obligate you to keep their secret. They don't have that coercive moral authority over you. You can't reasonably be expected to make a commitment when you're in the dark. Indeed, open-ended commitments can be unethical. 

There may be other the concerned parties who also have rights. Keeping a secret may unjustly harm them. So we have to balance competing duties. In case of conflict, some duties override other duties. 

To take a hypothetical case, suppose I know the pastor's son is a closet homosexual. I suspect that, and at some point he confides in me.

Normally I'd protect his identity. I'd cover for him (without lying), because he has a struggle, and he needs a straight friend to talk to, where he's free to let down his guard. To out him would be gratuitously harmful to his reputation and his faith. 

If, however, he decides to follow his dad's career path by going into the family business, as a youth pastor (say), that changes things. Now he's inserting himself into a situation which will, at the very least, expose him to unnecessary temptation, and at the worst he's deliberately exploiting the situation to seduce vulnerable young men. At that point, all bets are off. 

Minimally, I'd warn him to stay clear of Christian ministry and other venues where he works with other young men. I'll also tell him that if he doesn't heed the warning, I will be obligated to out him for the protection of the innocent. At that point he forced my hand. 

Just to clarify, there are situations in which I'd lie for someone to cover for them, but in the hypothetical situation I raised, I don't owe him that. All other things being equal, I'm prepared to cover for him short of lying for him. There's a difference between concealing and deceiving. Sometimes both are justified, but sometimes concealing is justified while deceiving is not. 

Suppose I know a classmate cheated on an exam. Suppose he knows I know. But he's now remorseful about his action. 

I'm not going to rat him out, in part because I'm not personally responsible for what he did, and he's contrite about his wrongdoing. At this stage it would be more harmful to rat him out. In that sense I'll cover for him. I'd keep it between us. 

If, however, his action was exposed by someone else, I'm not going to lie for him. He did wrong. It's not my duty to lie to coverup his wrongdoing. He can't reasonable expect that from me. Having taken a risk, he must be prepared to face the consequences. 

Thursday, March 26, 2020

Coming-of-age

In the modern west, coming-of-age is generally associated with adolescence. The physiological transition from childhood to adulthood. Sexual maturation, greater emotional independence from parents, developing alternative social relationships with age-mates (friends, boyfriends, girlfriends). Coming-of-age involves the assumption of adult risks and responsibilities, adult moral responsibility, and life-choices. 

The coming-of-age story is a stock genre, going back to the Epic of Gilgamesh (friendship between Gilgamesh and Enkidu) and the Odyssey (Telemachus). It's a topic of endless novels, short stories, movies, and teen dramas.  

There's distinction between chronological/physiological coming-of-age and moral/psychological/sociological coming-of-age. Some adults suffer from arrested development because they never experienced challenges that forced them to mature morally, emotionally, or socially. 

In his monograph on A Complete Handbook of Literary Forms in the Bible, Leland Ryken's has an entry under coming-of-age story (p47), where he lists the following examples:

• Jacob fleeing from his ancestral home and going to Haran (Gen 28)

• Joseph sold into slavery (Gen 37)

• David and Goliath(1 Sam 17)

• Daniel going into exile (Dan 1:1-3)

• Esther as a harem girl

One preliminary question this raises is the age of the individuals when they came of age. Roughly what would have been their ages at the time? I asked an OT scholar who gave the following ages or estimates:

Jacob: 76
Joseph: 17 (Gen 37:2)
David: about 20
Daniel: unknown–probably late teens/early 20s???
Esther: unknown–perhaps late teens???

In some cases these are somewhat beyond the chronological range we associate with coming-of-age in the modern west. Most dramatically in the case of Jacob. The larger point is that all of them underwent a maturing experience. In a sense, they were forced to grow up fast, thrust into a situation where they had to make momentous decisions beyond their years inasmuch as that they didn't have the wisdom of seasoned experience. Jacob is something of an anomaly in this group.  

In distinction to chronological coming-of-age, marriage and children or the death of a parent are social and psychological coming-of-age experiences. Other examples include adolescents or even preadolescents who are forced to leave home and make it on their own. Take the dislocations of war. Or forced to assume a parental role if a mother or father dies. They must step into their place to take up the slack, raising younger siblings and helping out the surviving parent. 

Christian conversion is a coming-of-age experience, at whatever age. A maturing experience. 

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Recognition scenes

1. Christian apologists typically try to make the evidence of Christianity as explicit as possible. (Likewise, they try to make the objections to non-Christian rival as explicit as possible.)

That's a very useful exercise. Christians sometimes need backup arguments to sustain their faith during some crisis or ordeal. It may tide them over during dry seasons of faith. And it's important in witnessing to unbelievers.

But despite the necessity of that approach, it can neglect another dimension of Christian faith, and even be discouraging. Even cerebral Christians don't necessarily live there. Much of Christian faith operates at a more subtle and subliminal level. 

2. Let's begin with an illustration. Take two brothers, a year or two apart, who are separated when they are too young to remember each other. Maybe their mother had both of them out-of-wedlock by the same boyfriend, and she can't afford to raised them both, so she puts one up for adoption. They grow up not knowing about each other's existence. 

Let's say that providentially they wind up at the same junior high school. That's when they first encounter each other. Initially they are complete strangers to each other–or so it seems. But they like each other and begin to hang out. There's a certain affinity that draws them to each other. The more time they spend together, they stronger the sense of affinity. A built-in bond. 

It runs deeper than the natural rapport between close friends. They find they can anticipate each other's thoughts or what they are going to say next, as if they have overlapping minds. As though they're psychologically linked, like two branches of the same vine. They gradually discover each other. 

Finally it occurs to one of them to ask if they're related to each other. Awkward questions are asked at home which disclose the fact that they are indeed blood brothers. They're a part of each other, not just genetically, but psychologically. 

We could vary the illustration. Peter Hitchens describes the horrible maternity wards in Russia under Communism. I'm sure some babies were mixed up. Returned to the wrong parents.

So you might have brothers or sisters raised apart to bump into each other later in life. Only a DNA test would establish their biological affinity.

Sometimes families are separated by war. In this case they may be old enough to remember that they have a long-lost brother or sister out there, but no way to track them down. 

3. Another comparison might be watching a movie for the first time. Maybe you hate it, but then you see it again years later and this time around it speaks to you. The movie hasn't changed, you have. You find something in the movie that was always there, but you missed it the first time around because you weren't ready for it.

Or may be you see the movie, form your own opinion, then years later read a review which offers an interpretation that never occurred to you. An interpretation that makes a lot of sense. Again, the movie hasn't changed, but it's like you're watching a different movie. 

4. Now this intuitive sense of recognition operates at different levels in Christian experience. For instance, as Christians read the Bible, they find people and situations in the Bible that resonate with their own experience. 

5. By the same token, Christians can sense in instant affinity with fellow Christians. I don't mean just any churchgoer, but genuine believers. We give off the same vibe. We're on the same wavelength. 

It's like vampire and werewolf lore, where they look human on the outside, but they're not human, yet they have the ability to instantly discern members of their own kind, distinguishing them from humans. 

6. A young Christian convert may bone up on systematic theology, then use theology as a filter to interpret his experience, or movies, or the world around him. That's a good exercise.

But as he becomes more settled in the faith, that process may become more internalized. He doesn't have to consciously interpret things from a Christian perspective. It's become ingrained. Second nature. 

7. I think part of Christian sanctification is a realignment in our outlook where there's increasing recognition of God's reality. Where it becomes natural to perceive the world from a God's-eye perspective. We're now viewing it from the other side, because we're on the other side. Not just in a detached, doctrinal sense, but a kind of gestalt shift.