We all worry. Some of us worry more than others, for sure; but it seems to be universally true that anxiety plagues each one of us to some degree. I spoke about this briefly in a previous post, citing an excellent Taoist parable about the pointlessness of anxiety. This time I want to deal specifically with Jesus' thoughts on anxiety, as they are presented in Matthew's account of the Gospel. To do so, we should really take the time to read Matthew 6:19-7:12 in its entirety. So here it is:
6:19 Do not save treasure for yourself on earth, where moths and rust destroy and where thieves break-in and steal; 20 but save treasure for yourself in heaven, where moths and rust don't destroy and where thieves do not break-in or steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there also will be your heart.
22 The eye is the lamp of the body. Therefore, if your eye is good, your whole body will be shining; 23 but if your eye is evil, your whole body will be dark. Therefore, if your light is actually darkness, how great is that darkness!
24 No one is able to serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will cling fast to the one and despise the other. You are not able to serve both God and money.
25 Therefore I say to you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will wear. Is not life greater than food and the body greater than clothing? 26 Consider the birds in the sky, how they do not sow seed or harvest or gather into the storehouse, yet your heavenly Father feeds them; are you not far superior to them? 27 And who among you by being anxious is able to add a single moment to your life? 28 And why do you worry about clothing? Look at the lilies in the fields, how they grow. They do not labor or spin; 29 but I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory was clothed like one of these. 30 But if that is how God clothes the grass in the fields which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven...aren't you much more valuable, you who have little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious saying, What will we eat? or, What will we drink? or, What will we wear? 32 For all these things the Gentiles seek to acquire; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all of these things. 33 But seek first the Kingdom and its righteousness, and these things will be given to you. 34 Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious about itself; each day has enough trouble of its own.
7:1 Do not judge, so that you will not be judged. 2 For by whatever judgment you use to judge, you will be judged yourself, and by whatever measure you measure out, it will be measured out to you. 3 How is it that you see the speck in your brother's eye, but you do not notice the whole beam of wood in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, Allow me to remove the speck from your eye, while the whole beam of wood is in your eye? 5 You fake play-actors! First remove the whole beam of wood from your own eye, and then you can see clearly enough to remove the speck from your brother's eye. 6 Do not give what is sacred to dogs, and do not cast your pearls in front of pigs; lest they trample them with their feet and, having turned around, tear you to pieces.
7 Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened for you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. 9 Who among you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 Therefore, if you who are evil know to give good gifts to your children, how much more so will your Father, who is in heaven, give good things to those who ask him! 12 Therefore, whatever it is you would desire that other people do to you, in that manner you should treat them; for this is the Law and the Prophets.
I'm willing to bet that at some point while you were reading the above passage, you thought to yourself, I think he included too much of the text from Matthew--didn't he just mean to quote 6:25-34? You see, unfortunately, many people believe (consciously or unconsciously) that Matthew 5-7 is just a conglomeration of random sayings by Jesus pulled together by Matthew and placed here in one big block of teaching because he simply didn't know what else to do with them. Nothing could be further from the truth. The so-called Sermon on the Mount of Matthew 5-7 is a cohesive whole, meant to be taken together from beginning to end. I have selected the smallest portion possible to make our discussion of Jesus' view of anxiety easier to handle in-depth.
A few things need clarifying about this text before we can follow Jesus' line of reasoning from beginning to end. First, verses 22-23 seem strange and out of place to many of us. Not only does the analogy of "good eye" versus "bad eye" make no sense to us, but the verses prior discuss material wealth as do the verses immediately following--so why throw this random saying in here? It helps a great deal to know that a "good eye" was a common idiom in Jewish circles for generosity, while a bad or evil eye was a way of euphemistically calling someone stingy or miserly. Hence, Jesus is still talking about money. He essentially argues that how generous one is with their money is a pretty good indicator of how generous they are in life in general. Conversely, if one is stingy with their money chances are they will be stingy in just about every aspect of their relationships with others.
Second, when the Bible juxtaposes "love" and "hate" it can be a little misleading for us English speakers. "Love" and "hate," in the English language, largely refer to emotive responses. In the Bible, the words commonly translated as "love" and "hate" do not usually refer to emotions, but rather to actions. "Love" often means to treat someone or something as having great value, while "hate" (when juxtaposed with "love") means to treat someone or something as having little or less value. Don't believe me? Read Genesis 29 and Deuteronomy 21-22, the context of those passages makes little sense if one understands "love" and "hate" as being emotionally driven responses rather than conscious actions. The same is true for Malachi 1:2-3, which is notoriously quoted by Paul in Romans 9:13 (one of the most grotesquely misinterpreted statements of Paul, to say the least). Jesus is not saying that if you "love" God you will hate money and wish that it never existed, nor is he saying that if you "love" money you will have some kind of emotional hatred for God. He is simply pointing out that, in life, the priorities of God often run completely counter to the accumulation of material wealth, and in those moments you will have to choose which is more important, God or money. Which will win out in those situations? There can be only one! Winner, that is, and highlander.
Third, and finally, 7:6 is somewhat confusing. Pearls and pigs and dogs and us being torn to pieces? Weird. In the context, however, it should not surprise us. Jesus has just said that we must refrain from judging others (especially because we have faults of our own that are far greater than the minor things about which we tend to criticize our neighbors). In the same vein, Jesus then states that we should refrain from forcing ourselves upon people. If they don't accept what we think is true and right, that is their choice; any efforts to force or coerce them to our side will end only in pain and suffering for both parties. This is 100% in line with biblical wisdom on this topic (cf. Proverbs 9:7-9).
Jesus concludes this section with the famous statement that we should treat other people as we ourselves would like to be treated. This, he says, is the technically correct way to obey Yahweh's Law (at this point, please note that Jesus began his sermon by telling his audience that he wasn't repealing or nullifying Yahweh's Law, but was rather teaching them the right way to obey it; cf. 5:17-20). Now, hopefully due to my woefully inadequate and truncated explanation of the more difficult portions of this passage, we can try to track exactly what Jesus was telling his audience.
Jesus begins by talking about material wealth (verses 19-24). He tells his audience that the pursuit of material wealth will (at times) be completely opposed to the purposes of God, and in those times they should choose God over money. If they do this, money will not master them--rather, God will. This is important, because if his audience can depose money as the master of their lives then they might finally be able to live without persistent, lingering anxiety (verses 25-34). Jesus argues that anxiety is pointless for several reasons: 1) worrying never actually secures you what you need--you can't get the money you think you need by worrying about; and, 2) God is well aware of all of your needs before you even voice them to him. Therefore, he says, concern yourselves with the more important things, the value and goals of God's kingdom, and let God take care of your material needs. If his audience would put this into practice, they would also be free to stop judging other people and stop forcing themselves on others who are different from them (7:1-6). Why do we gossip about others and talk about them behind their backs? Isn't it primarily to take the spotlight off of our blatant flaws and inadequacies? Talking badly about others is always an effort to improve things for ourselves, because we have this sneaking suspicion that we are lacking somehow. Why do we argue with people over meaningless things? Each of us has experience in this, either with a spouse, friend, or family member--pretty much anyone with whom you spend a good amount of time. After about three minutes we realize that neither of us actually cares who won the NCAA Basketball Championship in 1998 (it was Kentucky, by the way... in your face, Jerry!). Rather, the reason we are arguing is because we have this need to be affirmed that we are right. Somehow, that affirmation will make us feel more adequate. So we force ourselves on those who disagree with us in a poorly disguised effort to make ourselves feel better about our own faults and weaknesses. None of this, Jesus says, is necessary, because God is like the best possible parent you could ever imagine who provides good gifts to his children (verses 7-11). Even we, though we make many terrible decisions and mistakes on occasion, know how to give good gifts to our kids. How much more so, Jesus asks rhetorically, does God--who is perfect, without fault--know how to give good gifts to us? All we need to do is ask and rely on him, and he will provide for us everything we need. We won't be lacking in any respect. And if we could somehow ultimately get that fact into our tiny little brains, we might--for the first time ever--be able to treat other people in the way we ourselves would like to be treated.
Do you see the brilliance of Jesus' argument? The climax rests completely upon the foundation he has built for it throughout. True obedience to God is not possible unless we are transformed from the inside-out in each of these vital aspects of our lives. If we don't trust Jesus, if we don't believe him, if we don't think that what he says about money, anxiety, lust, honesty, judgment, prayer, or any other aspect of life is true, then we simply will not be able to truly obey Yahweh's stipulations. But if we truly do accept Jesus, believing and trusting him on every topic, then we will be free to obey God.
Imagine your life without any anxiety about money. Imagine your life without any feeling of insecurity or inadequacy. Imagine your life with God providing every single one of your needs perfectly like the best possible parent would. Imagine your life without any backbiting or gossip or talking badly about friends, family, or neighbors. Imagine your life without needing to be right all the time, because you knew that "being right" or "being wrong" says nothing of your actual worth as a person. If you can even conjure up a glimpse of what your life would look like, rest assured that that fleeting image is an incredibly small piece of what life in the Kingdom of God looks like. It is a piece of what obedience looks like. Obedience to God looks like that! That is eternal life. Jesus offers each one of us the opportunity to enter into that life this very minute. It is not something that is given to us after we die in some ethereal existence in the clouds. It is something that is open to each one of us right now, and something that lasts forever. It is a journey, of course; we don't get everything worked out all at once and nor does Jesus suggest that we will. But it is a journey that we can begin today and will continue for eternity. It is, as far as I can tell, the Good Life.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Why bother, if...
When I think of philosophers, I generally imagine a group of white-bearded (not to be confused with "white-bread", though the latter would certainly be as true as the former) men in tunics who sit around all day talking with people about esoteric theories of metaphysical existence. So when I was forced to take Philosophy 101 in college, some of my friends who were in that class with me may still remember the day when my professor said to me: "Guy, I get the impression from your attitude that you think philosophers don't ever do anything, and that philosophy in general is a bunch of pointless talk that never actually affects real life situations." To which I responded: "Yeah that pretty much sums it up." I'll never know what my professor thought in that moment when I responded like that, but by the look on my friend's face sitting beside me I think it was interpreted as being tantamount to telling my professor he was a waste of space. Naturally, he has had the last laugh, as I now spend a great deal of time reading the great philosophers in a desperate attempt to understand life and my role in the universe. Philosophers in general tend to have the last laugh.
It is perhaps an under-appreciated fact that many of the ancient Greek philosophers were convinced that just learning things about life without actually implementing them in our behavior was completely foolish. In Book I of the Discourses of Epictetus there is a chapter entitled "Concerning Progress." In it, he asks the question, what does it really mean to make progress in life? Some, he says, suggest that learning as much as possible is progress. Many people walk around having read a lot of books, having done a lot of studying, having taken a great many classes, but Epictetus wonders: What do they have to show for it? If all they do is learn this information from great teachers and philosophers, but then never actually act upon it, never actually practically incorporate it into their lives, then what was the point? Epictetus comes down very strongly on those who learn philosophical treatises and principles as if that is an end in itself. The point of philosophy, he argues, is life-change. Progress is made not when you learn that worrying about things that are out of your control is detrimental and futile, but when you actually stop worrying about things that are outside of your control.
The letter of James in the New Testament makes a very similar argument as it pertains to theological truths. In 1:22-27 he tells his audience that it is pointless to merely be hearers of God's message--rather, they should also be doers of that message. That is, they should put in practice what they learn! What is hardly ever revealed during a sermon on this text is that James is reflecting a very deep philosophical tradition that includes Epictetus and others. His audience, remember, would live in a world in which "ancient Greek philosophy" was not ancient at all, but contemporary and well-known. Luke Timothy Johnson, in his commentary on the letter of James,* sums it up well:
Essentially, the idea that simply "believing the right things" about God or Jesus or the Bible is the point of Christianity, is the goal that God had in mind for his people, would be nothing short of laughable to the authors of the Bible. Not only did they personally object to such nonsense in their writings, but their entire worldview and context of experience would have rejected such a silly notion. Knowing or believing the right things was merely a first step to the ultimate purpose, which was, of course, practically living life in accordance with those beliefs and convictions.
This is not unique to James and the Greek philosophers of his day. Jesus says the same thing in the conclusion of his so-called Sermon on the Mount. In Matthew 7:24-27, the author reports that Jesus said:
Which brings me to my conclusion: Ultimately, the goal of the Good Life is not learning how to live the Good Life--it is living the Good Life. So as we press on together, let's put into action the things we have already learned! Otherwise, we might as well not waste our time learning them in the fist place...
*Luke Timothy Johnson, The Letter of James (AB 37A; New Haven: Yale, 2005), 213.
It is perhaps an under-appreciated fact that many of the ancient Greek philosophers were convinced that just learning things about life without actually implementing them in our behavior was completely foolish. In Book I of the Discourses of Epictetus there is a chapter entitled "Concerning Progress." In it, he asks the question, what does it really mean to make progress in life? Some, he says, suggest that learning as much as possible is progress. Many people walk around having read a lot of books, having done a lot of studying, having taken a great many classes, but Epictetus wonders: What do they have to show for it? If all they do is learn this information from great teachers and philosophers, but then never actually act upon it, never actually practically incorporate it into their lives, then what was the point? Epictetus comes down very strongly on those who learn philosophical treatises and principles as if that is an end in itself. The point of philosophy, he argues, is life-change. Progress is made not when you learn that worrying about things that are out of your control is detrimental and futile, but when you actually stop worrying about things that are outside of your control.
The letter of James in the New Testament makes a very similar argument as it pertains to theological truths. In 1:22-27 he tells his audience that it is pointless to merely be hearers of God's message--rather, they should also be doers of that message. That is, they should put in practice what they learn! What is hardly ever revealed during a sermon on this text is that James is reflecting a very deep philosophical tradition that includes Epictetus and others. His audience, remember, would live in a world in which "ancient Greek philosophy" was not ancient at all, but contemporary and well-known. Luke Timothy Johnson, in his commentary on the letter of James,* sums it up well:
James here agrees with the most widespread ancient conviction concerning the philosophical life and picks up one of the main themes of protreptic literature. Theoretical correctness counts for little if one's life does not conform to the truth one espouses. The notion that some sort of profession/confession of belief or conviction could be significant if it were not demonstrated by a consistent pattern of behavior is not, in James' world, to be taken seriously.
Essentially, the idea that simply "believing the right things" about God or Jesus or the Bible is the point of Christianity, is the goal that God had in mind for his people, would be nothing short of laughable to the authors of the Bible. Not only did they personally object to such nonsense in their writings, but their entire worldview and context of experience would have rejected such a silly notion. Knowing or believing the right things was merely a first step to the ultimate purpose, which was, of course, practically living life in accordance with those beliefs and convictions.
This is not unique to James and the Greek philosophers of his day. Jesus says the same thing in the conclusion of his so-called Sermon on the Mount. In Matthew 7:24-27, the author reports that Jesus said:
Therefore, everyone who listens to these words I have spoken and practices them will be like a sensible man who built his house upon rock; when the rain came down so that the flooded rivers came, the winds blew, and it all fell upon that house, it did not fall, for its foundation was upon the rock. But everyone who listens to these words I have spoken and does not practice them is like a foolish man who built his house upon sand; when the rain came down so that the flooded rivers came, the winds blew, and it all fell upon that house, it fell--and it was a tremendous fall!
Which brings me to my conclusion: Ultimately, the goal of the Good Life is not learning how to live the Good Life--it is living the Good Life. So as we press on together, let's put into action the things we have already learned! Otherwise, we might as well not waste our time learning them in the fist place...
*Luke Timothy Johnson, The Letter of James (AB 37A; New Haven: Yale, 2005), 213.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Anxiety at first blush
It seems to me that anxiety is one of my biggest obstacles to experiencing and living the Good Life. There is a lot to be said on this topic, as just about every major world religion or philosophy identifies it as a hazard and attempts to instruct people on the best way to deal with or avoid it. Jesus deals with the topic head-on in his Sermon on the Mount, and I plan to deal with that passage specifically sometime in the near future. But first, I have recently been reminded of a Taoist tale I stumbled upon while in high school. It has truly left an indelible mark on my memory, as I still think about it often about ten years after first reading it. Here is the story, as recorded by Benjamin Hoff (see below for full citation) in his marvelous volume, The Te of Piglet*:
This story is brilliant in both its insight and simplicity, isn't it? How many of us react immediately to events with pessimism and anxiety? I am the kind of person who hears good news and immediately attempts to imagine every possible way that it could all go badly and burst into flames. Yet the simple fact of the matter is that we do not know the future. Only God does. So when events unfold for us, we do not know how they will ultimately conclude or what implications they will have for our lives. But as Christians we believe that Yahweh is altogether good, just, and fair. So we have the confidence that, as Paul states in Romans 8, "God works all things for good for those who love him." This certainly has become a bit of a cliche in the Christian subculture and can be applied in a hackneyed way, but it is nevertheless true--as we see in the life of Joseph (Genesis 37-50). This doesn't mean that God makes sure everything will be easy for us or that we will get whatever we want--many times this is not the case, as the story of Joseph shows us so clearly. But it does mean that God's good purposes will prevail in our lives, regardless of the seeming obstacles that lie in the way.
A part of the Good Life is relinquishing our anxiety. When bad things happen to us, we must remember that we do not know how things will ultimately turn out, but we do know that God is good and is in complete control of the final outcome. Those things that at first seem like devastating setbacks may in fact be the necessary steps we take to real success.
*Benjamin Hoff. The Te of Piglet (New York: Penguin Books, 1993), 171-72. Hoff states that his version of the story is adapted from the original by Liu An (Huai-nan-tse).
**Hoff's prequel to The Te of Piglet, is, in my opinion, even more phenomenal. Hoff, Benjamin. The Tao of Pooh. New York: Dutton, 1982.
An old man and his son lived in an abandoned fortress on the side of a hill. Their only possession of value was a horse. One day, the horse ran away. The neighbors came by to offer sympathy. "That's really bad!" they said. "How do you know?" asked the old man. The next day, the horse returned, bringing with it several wild horses. The old man and his son shut them all inside the gate. The neighbors hurried over. "That's really good!" they said. "How do you know?" asked the old man. The following day, the son tried riding one of the wild horses, fell off, and broke his leg. The neighbors came around as soon as they heard the news. "That's really bad!" they said. "How do you know?" asked the old man. The day after that, the army came through, forcing the local young men into service to fight a faraway battle against the northern barbarians. Many of them would never return. But the son couldn't go, because he'd broken his leg.
This story is brilliant in both its insight and simplicity, isn't it? How many of us react immediately to events with pessimism and anxiety? I am the kind of person who hears good news and immediately attempts to imagine every possible way that it could all go badly and burst into flames. Yet the simple fact of the matter is that we do not know the future. Only God does. So when events unfold for us, we do not know how they will ultimately conclude or what implications they will have for our lives. But as Christians we believe that Yahweh is altogether good, just, and fair. So we have the confidence that, as Paul states in Romans 8, "God works all things for good for those who love him." This certainly has become a bit of a cliche in the Christian subculture and can be applied in a hackneyed way, but it is nevertheless true--as we see in the life of Joseph (Genesis 37-50). This doesn't mean that God makes sure everything will be easy for us or that we will get whatever we want--many times this is not the case, as the story of Joseph shows us so clearly. But it does mean that God's good purposes will prevail in our lives, regardless of the seeming obstacles that lie in the way.
A part of the Good Life is relinquishing our anxiety. When bad things happen to us, we must remember that we do not know how things will ultimately turn out, but we do know that God is good and is in complete control of the final outcome. Those things that at first seem like devastating setbacks may in fact be the necessary steps we take to real success.
*Benjamin Hoff. The Te of Piglet (New York: Penguin Books, 1993), 171-72. Hoff states that his version of the story is adapted from the original by Liu An (Huai-nan-tse).
**Hoff's prequel to The Te of Piglet, is, in my opinion, even more phenomenal. Hoff, Benjamin. The Tao of Pooh. New York: Dutton, 1982.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Your best...even though you aren't the best...
Epictetus spent time discussing the importance of maintaining one's honor and dignity despite what it may cost. Some people, he says, would give up all honor and dignity just to avoid discomfort. A lot of people would do the same just to avoid death. These people are essentially selling themselves short, and thus we are always impressed when we hear about a Socrates or some other character who will face the consequences no matter what they are to maintain his or her dignity, honor, or character. In citing Socrates as a role model, he points out that he [Epictetus] will probably never be as good a philosopher as Socrates, but that doesn't mean he won't do everything he can to be the best philosopher he can be. This, I think, is a very important sentiment.
How many times have you thought: Well why should I even bother sticking with this [hobby/sport/career/etc.] if I am never going to be the best at it? I should just do something else that only I can do, something I can do better than anyone else. I've had that thought many times. As a teenager, I gave up many things because it became blatantly clear to me that I would never be the best or even as good as most other people. And I think I know why we do that--at least in America today.
I once read an interview with a very popular talk show host. In it, the interviewer asked the host what people say to him on the street when they see him. The host said that the most common thing he hears from strangers on the street is that one day they will be on his show. But when the host asks them why they will be on the show--what skill/talent/accomplishment will be the reason that they are invited--the host said that just about every time, they have no idea what to say. They don't know. This is because in America the most admirable, most sought after quality is not accomplishment, it's not talent or skill, it is fame. Those strangers want to be on the talk show because it means they would be famous. They don't care what they would be famous for, and they certainly don't have any particular idea of how they would actually become famous, but that's their life goal. Some friends and I have been known to refer to this phenomenon as the Paris Hilton Effect. Paris Hilton, when she first graced the world with her presence in the land of entertainment, was famous for simply being famous. She had no special achievements, qualities, or skills that set her apart from anyone else--at least, if she did, that was not what had made her famous. She was famous for being famous.
Because we want so badly to be famous, we quickly abandon projects, jobs, or life goals that don't seem to contribute to our true objective of acquiring fame. Which is a sure indicator that we aren't actually doing what we want to be doing. We choose to adopt a hobby or a career based upon what it will acquire for us, rather than because we actually enjoy the activity itself.
This situation has certainly affected the Christian subculture in America as well (the mere fact that there is such a thing as a Christian subculture in America betrays the influence of this phenomenon). How many pastors want to be the next Rob Bell, John Piper, or Tim Keller? Probably a lot of seminary students out there think they will be. I've met some of them, in fact. And, to be honest, it is technically possible that such a thing just might happen for them. But my question is: Who cares? Since when did being famous become a goal of ours, instead of the mere by-product of a combination of doing what we love and circumstances completely outside of our control?
I don't know how this started in the Church specifically, but I have a hunch. I think it's partly due to all the talk that we received from loving parents who told us that there is something we must be really good at, something that I and only I could do well. That God had prepared some special activity or thing for me in which I will excel beyond everyone else. Now, the Bible clearly argues that God created each individual, and we know that each individual has his or her own set of skills and talents and predispositions. But the suggestion that each one of us has some special gift that will allow us to surpass all of our peers is probably a bit of a stretch. In fact, I can't even think of how someone could defend such a clearly unreasonable proposition. The downside to such well-intentioned parental assurances is that they focus our attention on how we compare to other people. C.S. Lewis once wrote that pride only exists when other people are considered. We don't want to have more money. We want to have more money than other people! The same is true with our talents. We don't want to be good at something, we want to be better than everyone else at something!
I play floor hockey with friends. I didn't do this much as a kid or a teenager, although I played it occasionally. But I have only recently, in the past two years or so, discovered how much I love to play the game. For that reason, and for many other reasons completely outside of my control, I will never be considered the best, or even anywhere near the best, amateur floor hockey player in the world. It would be a stretch to even suggest that I am consistently "good." As a kid, this would have totally defeated me. I would've dropped it fast, because why bother if you're not going to be the best or one of the best? Why bother if you don't get recognition and acknowledgment and respect? Now I realize I just enjoy playing. I don't need to get anything out of it. And when I play, I give it everything I have. Not because I think that if I try hard enough I'm going to be better than anyone else on the floor--probably not, in fact, regardless of how much time or effort I put into it; I will probably not even be as good as most of the other players. But I agree with Epictetus here wholeheartedly. Just because I won't ever be the best, doesn't mean I shouldn't give my best. I play because I have fun, and I play as hard as I can because it makes no sense to play at all if you're not going to give it everything you have.
How many of us do things because we think those things will secure for us attention, respect, love, or praise from other people? How many of us work hard, not to be the best we can be at something, but to be better than someone else? God has most certainly given each one of us certain talents and gifts. And he has also given us things that fill us with joy. More often than not, these two things overlap considerably. It seems to me that a part of living the Good Life is to do those things that fill us with joy, those things that God has blessed us with an opportunity to do, and to do those things to the best of our abilities with absolutely zero regard for how the best of our abilities measures up with the best of anyone else.
How many times have you thought: Well why should I even bother sticking with this [hobby/sport/career/etc.] if I am never going to be the best at it? I should just do something else that only I can do, something I can do better than anyone else. I've had that thought many times. As a teenager, I gave up many things because it became blatantly clear to me that I would never be the best or even as good as most other people. And I think I know why we do that--at least in America today.
I once read an interview with a very popular talk show host. In it, the interviewer asked the host what people say to him on the street when they see him. The host said that the most common thing he hears from strangers on the street is that one day they will be on his show. But when the host asks them why they will be on the show--what skill/talent/accomplishment will be the reason that they are invited--the host said that just about every time, they have no idea what to say. They don't know. This is because in America the most admirable, most sought after quality is not accomplishment, it's not talent or skill, it is fame. Those strangers want to be on the talk show because it means they would be famous. They don't care what they would be famous for, and they certainly don't have any particular idea of how they would actually become famous, but that's their life goal. Some friends and I have been known to refer to this phenomenon as the Paris Hilton Effect. Paris Hilton, when she first graced the world with her presence in the land of entertainment, was famous for simply being famous. She had no special achievements, qualities, or skills that set her apart from anyone else--at least, if she did, that was not what had made her famous. She was famous for being famous.
Because we want so badly to be famous, we quickly abandon projects, jobs, or life goals that don't seem to contribute to our true objective of acquiring fame. Which is a sure indicator that we aren't actually doing what we want to be doing. We choose to adopt a hobby or a career based upon what it will acquire for us, rather than because we actually enjoy the activity itself.
This situation has certainly affected the Christian subculture in America as well (the mere fact that there is such a thing as a Christian subculture in America betrays the influence of this phenomenon). How many pastors want to be the next Rob Bell, John Piper, or Tim Keller? Probably a lot of seminary students out there think they will be. I've met some of them, in fact. And, to be honest, it is technically possible that such a thing just might happen for them. But my question is: Who cares? Since when did being famous become a goal of ours, instead of the mere by-product of a combination of doing what we love and circumstances completely outside of our control?
I don't know how this started in the Church specifically, but I have a hunch. I think it's partly due to all the talk that we received from loving parents who told us that there is something we must be really good at, something that I and only I could do well. That God had prepared some special activity or thing for me in which I will excel beyond everyone else. Now, the Bible clearly argues that God created each individual, and we know that each individual has his or her own set of skills and talents and predispositions. But the suggestion that each one of us has some special gift that will allow us to surpass all of our peers is probably a bit of a stretch. In fact, I can't even think of how someone could defend such a clearly unreasonable proposition. The downside to such well-intentioned parental assurances is that they focus our attention on how we compare to other people. C.S. Lewis once wrote that pride only exists when other people are considered. We don't want to have more money. We want to have more money than other people! The same is true with our talents. We don't want to be good at something, we want to be better than everyone else at something!
I play floor hockey with friends. I didn't do this much as a kid or a teenager, although I played it occasionally. But I have only recently, in the past two years or so, discovered how much I love to play the game. For that reason, and for many other reasons completely outside of my control, I will never be considered the best, or even anywhere near the best, amateur floor hockey player in the world. It would be a stretch to even suggest that I am consistently "good." As a kid, this would have totally defeated me. I would've dropped it fast, because why bother if you're not going to be the best or one of the best? Why bother if you don't get recognition and acknowledgment and respect? Now I realize I just enjoy playing. I don't need to get anything out of it. And when I play, I give it everything I have. Not because I think that if I try hard enough I'm going to be better than anyone else on the floor--probably not, in fact, regardless of how much time or effort I put into it; I will probably not even be as good as most of the other players. But I agree with Epictetus here wholeheartedly. Just because I won't ever be the best, doesn't mean I shouldn't give my best. I play because I have fun, and I play as hard as I can because it makes no sense to play at all if you're not going to give it everything you have.
How many of us do things because we think those things will secure for us attention, respect, love, or praise from other people? How many of us work hard, not to be the best we can be at something, but to be better than someone else? God has most certainly given each one of us certain talents and gifts. And he has also given us things that fill us with joy. More often than not, these two things overlap considerably. It seems to me that a part of living the Good Life is to do those things that fill us with joy, those things that God has blessed us with an opportunity to do, and to do those things to the best of our abilities with absolutely zero regard for how the best of our abilities measures up with the best of anyone else.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Chasing Down the Good Life
I would like to enlist your assistance and support in a Quixotic quest of self-discovery that I plan to undertake this summer. If you are like me, then you can't really stop your mind from thinking about deeply obscure questions about existence, meaning, and identity on a more or less hourly basis. And so when someone asks you a significant question like, "What do you think I should do? Take that job in Milwaukee or stay here in the position I already have at the bank?" You immediately begin to wonder: Is there such a thing as "should do" in this scenario? Is there such a thing as "should do" in life in general? If there is, where does such authority come from? And what does said authority have to say about all of the other decisions I make in my life? And, if you foolishly proceeded to mumble those thoughts aloud instead of keeping them between you and your inner-monologue, your present interlocutor may in fact realize that asking you about anything might in fact be a supremely foolish and time-consuming activity. The better part of valor is probably simply to respond: "Well, what do you want to do? Make a pros and cons list. And then tell everyone I solved your problem through reason and benevolence." Please know that if you are one of those people who have asked me about situations such as that listed above, that existential tumbleweed was certainly passing across the dusty road of my mind behind my glazed over eyes. It is nothing personal.
In short, I would really like to have everything all figured out before I even begin to deal with the small details of life. You know, get the big picture before analyzing the more minute aspects of its beauty. So I am beginning a concerted effort to track down the Good Life. And I plan to do whatever it takes to wrestle it to the ground and beat it into submission whenever I find it. This is not simply for myself, but I am hoping to create an extended sermon series on the topic once I have come to whatever conclusions I find. Hopefully it will be something that helps our church family at FPC. In the meantime, I am planning to use Paper Tiger Can't as a running journal of my quest. And that is where you come in. I would very much appreciate your comments, your questions, your meandering musings on life and its meaning. Please share those things with me as I make this journey, for the betterment of my expedition and your own. Here is my proposed methodology to begin:
As you can imagine, I will mostly be reading books. Old books, for the most part, but some more modern selections perhaps. Here's a rough list of my starting point:
From the Hebrew Scriptures/the Ancient Near East (including the Greek period)/New Testament:
Proverbs
Job
Ecclesiastes
The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7)
Epictetus: Discourses and Encheiridion
Works from the Far East:
Tao Te Ching
The Bhagavad Gita
Works from American writers and philosophers:
Henry David Thoreau Walden
Walt Whitman Leaves of Grass
Other modern works:
Fyodor Mikhailovitch Dostoevsky The Brothers Karamazov and Notes from Underground
Albert Camus The Stranger
Ayn Rand Atlas Shrugged
50 Cent Get Rich or Die Trying (jksers...)
A few caveats: 1) I have read most items in the above list already at some point, but I have never tried to synthesize any of it together into a philosophical outlook on daily life; 2) my ability to read Greek and Hebrew far outweighs my knowledge of Far Eastern or European languages, so I will need to rely on translations of some of the modern works and the far eastern selections; 3) I'm assuming that more will be added to this list, and some will be discarded throughout the course of this project. I fully recognize that such a limited corpus and methodology makes my chances of success limited at best, but the way I see it, my chances of success in anything in my life have been limited at best. So what else is new?
My goal, ostensibly, is to answer the question: What is the Good Life? Is it making lots of money? Is it having lots of friends? Or family? Is it helping other people in need? Is it some kind of combination of all of the above? Is it using the Shake Weight to get wicked cut and slay the ladies? What is the Good Life?
Well, what do you think? Do you have methodological suggestions for me? Do you have a list of your own that you think I should consider? Is it a blatant error on my part not to include The Simpsons in this corpus of great philosophical treatises and literature?
Just a thought to leave you with as we begin this thing together: At the close of Walker Percy's The Last Gentleman, the protagonist Will Barrett stands in the desert trying to work out the meaning of his life. Another character, Sutter, whom he has appealed to in this regard throughout the novel, is about to depart from the hospital in which both he and Will watched Sutter's brother, Jamie, finally succumb to a long illness. As Sutter begins to drive away, suddenly Will forms another question, perhaps the question that, if answered, would put everything into place. And so he sprints after Sutter's vehicle. And there the story ends. If you are like me, a day has never passed in your adult life in which you haven't felt like Will Barrett chasing down Sutter Vaught in the middle of a barren desert with an inarticulate question that may be the key to your own existence.
In short, I would really like to have everything all figured out before I even begin to deal with the small details of life. You know, get the big picture before analyzing the more minute aspects of its beauty. So I am beginning a concerted effort to track down the Good Life. And I plan to do whatever it takes to wrestle it to the ground and beat it into submission whenever I find it. This is not simply for myself, but I am hoping to create an extended sermon series on the topic once I have come to whatever conclusions I find. Hopefully it will be something that helps our church family at FPC. In the meantime, I am planning to use Paper Tiger Can't as a running journal of my quest. And that is where you come in. I would very much appreciate your comments, your questions, your meandering musings on life and its meaning. Please share those things with me as I make this journey, for the betterment of my expedition and your own. Here is my proposed methodology to begin:
As you can imagine, I will mostly be reading books. Old books, for the most part, but some more modern selections perhaps. Here's a rough list of my starting point:
From the Hebrew Scriptures/the Ancient Near East (including the Greek period)/New Testament:
Proverbs
Job
Ecclesiastes
The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7)
Epictetus: Discourses and Encheiridion
Works from the Far East:
Tao Te Ching
The Bhagavad Gita
Works from American writers and philosophers:
Henry David Thoreau Walden
Walt Whitman Leaves of Grass
Other modern works:
Fyodor Mikhailovitch Dostoevsky The Brothers Karamazov and Notes from Underground
Albert Camus The Stranger
Ayn Rand Atlas Shrugged
50 Cent Get Rich or Die Trying (jksers...)
A few caveats: 1) I have read most items in the above list already at some point, but I have never tried to synthesize any of it together into a philosophical outlook on daily life; 2) my ability to read Greek and Hebrew far outweighs my knowledge of Far Eastern or European languages, so I will need to rely on translations of some of the modern works and the far eastern selections; 3) I'm assuming that more will be added to this list, and some will be discarded throughout the course of this project. I fully recognize that such a limited corpus and methodology makes my chances of success limited at best, but the way I see it, my chances of success in anything in my life have been limited at best. So what else is new?
My goal, ostensibly, is to answer the question: What is the Good Life? Is it making lots of money? Is it having lots of friends? Or family? Is it helping other people in need? Is it some kind of combination of all of the above? Is it using the Shake Weight to get wicked cut and slay the ladies? What is the Good Life?
Well, what do you think? Do you have methodological suggestions for me? Do you have a list of your own that you think I should consider? Is it a blatant error on my part not to include The Simpsons in this corpus of great philosophical treatises and literature?
Just a thought to leave you with as we begin this thing together: At the close of Walker Percy's The Last Gentleman, the protagonist Will Barrett stands in the desert trying to work out the meaning of his life. Another character, Sutter, whom he has appealed to in this regard throughout the novel, is about to depart from the hospital in which both he and Will watched Sutter's brother, Jamie, finally succumb to a long illness. As Sutter begins to drive away, suddenly Will forms another question, perhaps the question that, if answered, would put everything into place. And so he sprints after Sutter's vehicle. And there the story ends. If you are like me, a day has never passed in your adult life in which you haven't felt like Will Barrett chasing down Sutter Vaught in the middle of a barren desert with an inarticulate question that may be the key to your own existence.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Yahweh's Army of... Locusts?
Some portions of the Bible just get downright neglected. This is not a new or surprising statement, I don't think. All of us who have grown up with some kind of regular interaction with the Bible realize this. People just don't read Leviticus. People also tend to avoid the opening nine chapters of 1 Chronicles. And, generally speaking, no one seems to have any particular interest in the so-called Minor Prophets that, in our English Bibles at least, close out the Hebrew Scriptures. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't understand. Given my vocation and my particular academic interests, I enjoy reading and studying the entire Hebrew Bible--but I can relate to the common aversion most people have to these works. The cultural distance alone is enough to decimate the morale of a modern reader. And, for whatever reason, it sometimes seems to me that mainstream English translators do almost everything in their power to make certain texts more difficult to comprehend. They have their reasons--including ideological commitments and public opinion concerns (i.e., "Well the King James translated Psalm 23 like this, and that's how everyone remembers it now, so if we update it and make a better translation that is more accurate and helpful for modern readers, many people will reject our entire effort and not buy the Bible because we 'changed' the words of God!"). It is a very difficult spot that translators are placed in by publishers and marketing departments, for sure. All of that to say, I get it. But there are a great deal of insights that are contained in these neglected works--insights about who God is and what he expects from his people.
In the Book of Joel, the reader is confronted with a startling situation. Apparently, at some point in the southern kingdom of Judah's history, a great plague of locusts threatened to destroy the nation's resources. Scholars are greatly divided on when to date the contents of the book (so much so that Calvin famously advised his audience to stop even trying), and some scholars don't even take the plague of locusts literally; instead they suggest it is a metaphor for the invasion of Babylonian or possibly Assyrian forces (an unconvincing suggestion, in my humble opinion). Regardless of when Joel gave these oracles, his audience was probably very startled. This coming plague of locusts would apparently damage the land in a way they had never even seen before. So I'm sure their knee-jerk reaction was, "Oh man, I hope Yahweh will save us." But then came the really bad news. The really bad news was, Yahweh was actually sending the plague. After describing the plague of locusts figuratively, comparing them to an advancing horde of superhuman warriors whose sole focus is destruction, Joel tells his audience in 2:11 that Yahweh himself "thunders [lit. gives his voice] at the head of his army." Apparently, the plague of locusts is Yahweh's personal army! This would be discouraging, to say the least.
But the people are given a choice. The plague, unfortunately, was unstoppable. Yahweh had made up his mind about that. But what came after that plague was partially up to the response of God's people. If they would repent from their disobedience and return to him, God would restore their land, bringing them back everything they had lost to the locusts and then some. And Joel didn't stop there. One day, he said, God would bless them in ways they couldn't even imagine. He would restore their land and resources, he would avenge the wrongs and atrocities that were committed against them, and he would even place his own Spirit among them in a way that would be unprecedented. Such a suggestion leads me to believe the context of Joel should be dated sometime between 515-400 BC, when prophecy was not very common anymore and people were beginning to wonder if God would ever send his Spirit among them again. This prediction, of course, would be seized upon by Peter in Acts 2, during his famous sermon on the day of Pentecost--identifying the outpouring of the Spirit on that day as evidence of the fulfillment of God's promise in Joel's oracle hundreds of years prior.
Several things stand out to me after reading the Book of Joel. First, we see yet another example (the Minor Prophets are full of them) of God's willingness to do absolutely whatever it takes to get his people to return to him and find life. He does not, apparently, shy away from even the most extreme efforts to persuade his people to repent and find forgiveness and reconciliation with him. The announcement that God was behind the plague of locusts would have been shocking, for sure, and his commitment to actively pursuing his people is even more surprising. Second, we see another consistent aspect of the biblical message: the future is not set in stone. God gave his people a very clear choice. Their behavior and decisions would ultimately affect how the future would turn out for them. As Joel says (just as Jonah says, but in a very different context) in 2:13, Yahweh is a God who changes his mind about sending calamity when his people repent. This is the lesson Jonah learns begrudgingly when he delivers God's olive branch to the people of Nineveh, much to Jonah's chagrin. Finally, we clearly see that God avenges all wrongs and does not let injustices go unpunished. Sometimes it certainly seems to us, and seemed to the ancient Israelites, that God lets the crooked and the wicked get away with the most atrocious acts of evil--while the righteous go on suffering with no apparent recourse. But Joel fervently argues that, in the final analysis of things, this is not so. Yahweh does hold everyone accountable for their actions. In 3:16 Joel writes that Yahweh roars [Hebrew yish'ag--it is what lions do in the Hebrew Bible] from Zion as he judges every nation on earth in the so-called "Valley of Decision." God will ultimately, some day, right all wrongs.
There are many other insights about God that one can draw from the Book of Joel, and the same is true for all of the other generally neglected portions of the Hebrew Bible. Hopefully, pastors and congregants alike will realize this. As the apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Timothy 3:16-17: All Scripture has been inspired by God and is useful for teaching us how to live lives that are pleasing to him.
In the Book of Joel, the reader is confronted with a startling situation. Apparently, at some point in the southern kingdom of Judah's history, a great plague of locusts threatened to destroy the nation's resources. Scholars are greatly divided on when to date the contents of the book (so much so that Calvin famously advised his audience to stop even trying), and some scholars don't even take the plague of locusts literally; instead they suggest it is a metaphor for the invasion of Babylonian or possibly Assyrian forces (an unconvincing suggestion, in my humble opinion). Regardless of when Joel gave these oracles, his audience was probably very startled. This coming plague of locusts would apparently damage the land in a way they had never even seen before. So I'm sure their knee-jerk reaction was, "Oh man, I hope Yahweh will save us." But then came the really bad news. The really bad news was, Yahweh was actually sending the plague. After describing the plague of locusts figuratively, comparing them to an advancing horde of superhuman warriors whose sole focus is destruction, Joel tells his audience in 2:11 that Yahweh himself "thunders [lit. gives his voice] at the head of his army." Apparently, the plague of locusts is Yahweh's personal army! This would be discouraging, to say the least.
But the people are given a choice. The plague, unfortunately, was unstoppable. Yahweh had made up his mind about that. But what came after that plague was partially up to the response of God's people. If they would repent from their disobedience and return to him, God would restore their land, bringing them back everything they had lost to the locusts and then some. And Joel didn't stop there. One day, he said, God would bless them in ways they couldn't even imagine. He would restore their land and resources, he would avenge the wrongs and atrocities that were committed against them, and he would even place his own Spirit among them in a way that would be unprecedented. Such a suggestion leads me to believe the context of Joel should be dated sometime between 515-400 BC, when prophecy was not very common anymore and people were beginning to wonder if God would ever send his Spirit among them again. This prediction, of course, would be seized upon by Peter in Acts 2, during his famous sermon on the day of Pentecost--identifying the outpouring of the Spirit on that day as evidence of the fulfillment of God's promise in Joel's oracle hundreds of years prior.
Several things stand out to me after reading the Book of Joel. First, we see yet another example (the Minor Prophets are full of them) of God's willingness to do absolutely whatever it takes to get his people to return to him and find life. He does not, apparently, shy away from even the most extreme efforts to persuade his people to repent and find forgiveness and reconciliation with him. The announcement that God was behind the plague of locusts would have been shocking, for sure, and his commitment to actively pursuing his people is even more surprising. Second, we see another consistent aspect of the biblical message: the future is not set in stone. God gave his people a very clear choice. Their behavior and decisions would ultimately affect how the future would turn out for them. As Joel says (just as Jonah says, but in a very different context) in 2:13, Yahweh is a God who changes his mind about sending calamity when his people repent. This is the lesson Jonah learns begrudgingly when he delivers God's olive branch to the people of Nineveh, much to Jonah's chagrin. Finally, we clearly see that God avenges all wrongs and does not let injustices go unpunished. Sometimes it certainly seems to us, and seemed to the ancient Israelites, that God lets the crooked and the wicked get away with the most atrocious acts of evil--while the righteous go on suffering with no apparent recourse. But Joel fervently argues that, in the final analysis of things, this is not so. Yahweh does hold everyone accountable for their actions. In 3:16 Joel writes that Yahweh roars [Hebrew yish'ag--it is what lions do in the Hebrew Bible] from Zion as he judges every nation on earth in the so-called "Valley of Decision." God will ultimately, some day, right all wrongs.
There are many other insights about God that one can draw from the Book of Joel, and the same is true for all of the other generally neglected portions of the Hebrew Bible. Hopefully, pastors and congregants alike will realize this. As the apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Timothy 3:16-17: All Scripture has been inspired by God and is useful for teaching us how to live lives that are pleasing to him.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Hegemony
I remember walking to health class when I was a junior in high school and my friend Mike met me in the hallway telling me that New York City had been bombed. Some buildings had collapsed. He didn't seem very clear on the details. I remember doing nothing for the rest of the day, learning next to nothing until we were permitted to go home. And then of course being flooded with media information on the topic for the next year or so. And how could I forget hearing about Osama bin Laden. Public enemy number one. I remember my friends joining the military as a direct result of 9/11, and I remember changing my major in college from English to Political Science, from Political Science to International Affairs, due to the interest that had generated inside my mind as a result of what seemed like an unexpected change in the world order. Then sitting in seminars on terrorism, watching endless footage of terrorist acts of violence and the paramilitary responses to them. And my professor always called Osama "Sammy bin Laden" with a long A in Laden, which I realized this week I continued to do myself ever since. There are many moments in between, of course, but now I will always remember watching the news on a Monday morning explaining how bin Laden was killed by US Special Forces in a more-or-less "suburban" town in Pakistan that was merely 35 miles outside of Islamabad.
And then there was the celebrating. Groups of mostly younger Americans rallying outside of the White House and Ground Zero around midnight on Sunday night/Monday morning to chant USA and celebrate the death of the man who, for them, was always America's foremost enemy. My wife and I talked at length about whether or not we thought God was upset with such celebration. I couldn't ultimately decide, and still can't, for many reasons. God makes clear in the Prophets that he won't stand for nations mocking the fall of their enemies, and that he holds them accountable for such actions. At the same time all of the Bible verses used from Proverbs et cetera in the many arguments on facebook that suggest one shouldn't rejoice over the fall of his or her enemies were taken grossly out of context (those verses most definitely refer to one's personal enemy, not an international criminal or terrorist). And the Israelites celebrated God's deliverance of them from the Pharaoh in the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15), which essentially is rejoicing over God's act to kill the Pharaoh's soldiers. But we're not ancient Israel. We're America. Which is a double-edged sword--we aren't held to the law that Israel was, but God does apparently expect every nation to treat people the way they would like to be treated (cf. any of the so-called Oracles Against the Nations in the prophetic works; e.g., Jeremiah 46-51). So needless to say, I remain ambiguous on the topic.
It did get me thinking of what it means to be a superpower, and what God expects from a superpower's leadership. I am not of the school of thought that is all the rage today that suggests empires are inherently evil, and that God is opposed to them all. I don't think that comparisons of America to ancient Rome or Babylon or Egypt are particularly helpful. Most often I find them to be shortsighted and oversimplified, not taking into account the vast array of cultural differences that separate the US and its current position in the world from those other world empires. On the other hand, I don't consider the US to be God's chosen people. God's chosen people, if the Bible is true, would be the Church--people from any ethnicity, background, language group, etc that choose to follow him. That being said, God certainly has expectations for our leadership. I've touched upon it briefly when I mentioned the Oracles Against the Nations above--but it seems that God expects nations to treat other nations the way that they themselves would like to be treated. The situation may be slightly complicated by the fact that some of America's primary enemies abroad are not nations, but relatively small pockets of individuals hiding out in places like the Pankisi Gorge or Tajikistan. Still, the basic expectation probably remains unchanged. For what it is worth, I think it is important for our President to remain somber and even-handed when discussing the death of bin Laden, and our optimistic hopes that such a blow (if only symbolic, ultimately) will help to dismantle the network of individuals and groups aligned against our nation. Certainly the incident will be used for political purposes, which is to be expected--if everything had gone wrong with the operation, you know it would have been used against our President for political purposes! But I think that, so far, our leadership's reaction to the event has been doing the necessary work of walking the fine line between celebration and relief.
My primary concern is how we treat people going forward. Certainly our tactics and methods of information acquisition in the past have been questionable at best. My hope is that this will provide us with an opportunity to turn down the rhetoric regarding the "terrorist threat" to America (which has existed for a very, very long time--long before we got the media on the bandwagon of fear-mongering). If we can return to speaking of our enemies as humans, and individuals who--though aligned against our interests--are still people made in God's image, I think our leadership will have an easier time making the right and reasonable decisions regarding the treatment of our enemies. I do not advocate ignoring or forgiving criminals and terrorists. God is clear that forgiveness is required in the context of personal relationships--we must forgive our personal enemies (cf. Matthew 5). He is equally clear that those who commit serious crimes must be held accountable for their actions, and that allowing them to go unpunished would actually displease him and destabilize society (cf. the entire OT Law and its philosophy). But there is certainly a way to continue our fight against them and our efforts to defend our nation and allies in a manner that is just and upright. If we use methods that are unjust and inappropriate, how are we any different than those with whom we fight? And if we have become just like those with whom we are fighting in this war, doesn't that mean that they have won?
My prayer is that bin Laden's death will cause a change in our national demeanor, so that we no longer dehumanize our enemies. Defending our nation and pursuing justice is the responsibility of our leadership (cf. Romans 13:4)--neglecting to do so would be wrong. But there is a way to do it that is fair and just, and pleasing to God. I pray that we will choose that path going forward.
And then there was the celebrating. Groups of mostly younger Americans rallying outside of the White House and Ground Zero around midnight on Sunday night/Monday morning to chant USA and celebrate the death of the man who, for them, was always America's foremost enemy. My wife and I talked at length about whether or not we thought God was upset with such celebration. I couldn't ultimately decide, and still can't, for many reasons. God makes clear in the Prophets that he won't stand for nations mocking the fall of their enemies, and that he holds them accountable for such actions. At the same time all of the Bible verses used from Proverbs et cetera in the many arguments on facebook that suggest one shouldn't rejoice over the fall of his or her enemies were taken grossly out of context (those verses most definitely refer to one's personal enemy, not an international criminal or terrorist). And the Israelites celebrated God's deliverance of them from the Pharaoh in the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15), which essentially is rejoicing over God's act to kill the Pharaoh's soldiers. But we're not ancient Israel. We're America. Which is a double-edged sword--we aren't held to the law that Israel was, but God does apparently expect every nation to treat people the way they would like to be treated (cf. any of the so-called Oracles Against the Nations in the prophetic works; e.g., Jeremiah 46-51). So needless to say, I remain ambiguous on the topic.
It did get me thinking of what it means to be a superpower, and what God expects from a superpower's leadership. I am not of the school of thought that is all the rage today that suggests empires are inherently evil, and that God is opposed to them all. I don't think that comparisons of America to ancient Rome or Babylon or Egypt are particularly helpful. Most often I find them to be shortsighted and oversimplified, not taking into account the vast array of cultural differences that separate the US and its current position in the world from those other world empires. On the other hand, I don't consider the US to be God's chosen people. God's chosen people, if the Bible is true, would be the Church--people from any ethnicity, background, language group, etc that choose to follow him. That being said, God certainly has expectations for our leadership. I've touched upon it briefly when I mentioned the Oracles Against the Nations above--but it seems that God expects nations to treat other nations the way that they themselves would like to be treated. The situation may be slightly complicated by the fact that some of America's primary enemies abroad are not nations, but relatively small pockets of individuals hiding out in places like the Pankisi Gorge or Tajikistan. Still, the basic expectation probably remains unchanged. For what it is worth, I think it is important for our President to remain somber and even-handed when discussing the death of bin Laden, and our optimistic hopes that such a blow (if only symbolic, ultimately) will help to dismantle the network of individuals and groups aligned against our nation. Certainly the incident will be used for political purposes, which is to be expected--if everything had gone wrong with the operation, you know it would have been used against our President for political purposes! But I think that, so far, our leadership's reaction to the event has been doing the necessary work of walking the fine line between celebration and relief.
My primary concern is how we treat people going forward. Certainly our tactics and methods of information acquisition in the past have been questionable at best. My hope is that this will provide us with an opportunity to turn down the rhetoric regarding the "terrorist threat" to America (which has existed for a very, very long time--long before we got the media on the bandwagon of fear-mongering). If we can return to speaking of our enemies as humans, and individuals who--though aligned against our interests--are still people made in God's image, I think our leadership will have an easier time making the right and reasonable decisions regarding the treatment of our enemies. I do not advocate ignoring or forgiving criminals and terrorists. God is clear that forgiveness is required in the context of personal relationships--we must forgive our personal enemies (cf. Matthew 5). He is equally clear that those who commit serious crimes must be held accountable for their actions, and that allowing them to go unpunished would actually displease him and destabilize society (cf. the entire OT Law and its philosophy). But there is certainly a way to continue our fight against them and our efforts to defend our nation and allies in a manner that is just and upright. If we use methods that are unjust and inappropriate, how are we any different than those with whom we fight? And if we have become just like those with whom we are fighting in this war, doesn't that mean that they have won?
My prayer is that bin Laden's death will cause a change in our national demeanor, so that we no longer dehumanize our enemies. Defending our nation and pursuing justice is the responsibility of our leadership (cf. Romans 13:4)--neglecting to do so would be wrong. But there is a way to do it that is fair and just, and pleasing to God. I pray that we will choose that path going forward.
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