So a while back I was working on what it is to be faithful according to the bible. While it is common knowledge that faith and belief are different words with different meanings in English, most people are unsure about what the bible means by the word "faith."
In earlier blogs I have pointed out that the bible never once uses the word "belief" in English, and that is because there is no Greek word for the English concept of "belief." Instead, the bible uses the word for "faith"-pistis. But since there is no word for "belief" as we understand it in Greek, we are unable to definitively say which the bible means by pistis: does it mean "faith" or "belief?"
Part of what informs this dilemma for us is an assumption that we make without even realizing that it is up for debate: we look beyond the bible to discover the meaning of the words the bible uses. Where does the bible, especially the New Testament, get it's understanding of terms and theological concepts? From the Old Testament. You see, the idea of faith didn't plop into the minds of the New Testament writers from nowhere. Paul didn't make the term up.
"But hold on," you might say. "The Old Testament is written in Hebrew, whereas the New Testament is written in Greek. How can we figure out what a Greek word in the New Testament means by looking at the meaning of the Hebrew word that is translated the same way in English? The answer is quite simple, actually. By Paul's day, the Old Testament had been translated into Greek. It is called the "Septuagint." Paul quotes the Septuagint almost exclusively when referring to the Old Testament, and so we can therefore safely understand that Paul and other New Testament writers are using the terms such as pistis in the same way the Septuagint is using them.
So when we are trying to sort out something as messy and convoluted as the three language (four if you consider Latin a player in this game) pile-up of figuring out what the bible means by pistis, we need to look at the Old Testament. How does it use that word?
In order to make my case, I am going to start with the most basic understanding of faith in the Septuagint: the appropriate state of marriage. This understanding is most obviously used in the writings of the prophets, and since he gets so little attention from theologians, I will use the book of Malachi as my example.
Malachi begins with YHWH's categorical declaration of love for his people. When challenged on his love, he articulates what he means by love. Central to that articulation is the idea of covenant faithfulness as in a marriage. YHWH declares that Israel's calamity is the result of their faithlessness to him by virtue of the unfaithfulness of the leaders to their wives (spouses). This is the first and primary way the bible uses the word faith: as the way of being in covenant with YHWH. This covenant is compared to a marriage, yet in a profound twist, it is the status of the actual marriage that indicates to YHWH the status of the covenantal marriage to YHWH's self to Israel.
This understanding begins to illuminate what the New Testament means by pistis. We are faithful to Jesus in the same way that we are faithful to our spouse. This is the foundation of how the bible understands Faith.
NATHAN MYRICK
Jacob I have loved, but Esau...
I have long struggled with this bit of scripture. How could it be that God, who is love (1 Jn. 4), can arbitrarily assign love and hatred to two brothers on no ascribed merit beyond choice?
Two primary ideas have been derived from this bit of scripture. The first, famously, is that people are "predestined" on an individual basis for either heaven or hell. While this idea has lost popularity in public circles, it maintains a high degree of acceptance in the hallowed halls of academic theology, particularly within the Calvinistic traditions.
The second, related to the first, ascribes that same principle of selection to people groups as well as individuals. However, most scholars who purport this reading also, and by necessity if they are Christians, adhere to the notion of "dispensation," by which is meant that in various "epochs" or eras, God has chosen different people. This notion derives itself from some combination of anti-semitism, manifest destiny, and Christian supersessionism, becoming in a circuitous fashion the doctrine by which each of these notions are supported. We tend to do that: create doctrine out of our prejudices and then use that doctrine to support our prejudices.
These ideas come from a particular reading of Romans 9 which understand Paul's argument to be that the Jews have been rejected as God's people due to their unbelief in Jesus and complicency with Roman efforts to execute him. However, such a reading of Romans 9 fails to consider what is meant by the passage Paul is quoting: Malachi 1:3.
Malachi 1 begins the prophecy of destruction against Edom. But before the (in)famous declaration of selection between Jacob and Esau, verse 2 begins with a declaration of love by YHWH towards his people- "I have loved you, declares YHWH." But verse one finishes with a rebuttal- "But you have said: 'How have you loved us?'"
It is within the context of God's declaration of love and the bitter questioning of a people in distress that the famous proof text for predestination is offered. God's selection in this case is not arbitrary- the passage goes on to explain how God's love is not being received because the people are not acting in love. It seems to paint an unusual picture of God's interaction with God's people that hinges more entirely on the action of the people than on the love of God. See, the text contends that God's love is ever present, but that it is ignored by people who do not love in return. The verse in 1 John 4 that reads "We love because he first loved us" compels us to maintain the initial act of love as originating from God, but in Malachi and elsewhere we find the pivot point to be the response of love.
What is often overlooked or just plain ignored is the fact that in Malachi 1 Jacob represents the nation of Israel and Esau represents the nation of Edom. The text is not referring to individuals. It is referring to nations whose identities are tied to etiological characters who share a common ancestor; both nations are children of Abraham. Yet the text is clearly of the persuasion that the coming judgement on Edom (!) is not a result of a lack of God's love, but of the failure on the part of the people to return God's love appropriately.
This observation dispels two misconceptions. The first is the idea that God picks certain people and rejects others. Based on research of the alleged passages that support this claim, I contend that that claim is not consistent with the bible. Instead, I think it is a symptom of the same inclination that leads us to construct doctrines out of/that support our prejudices. It is easier to treat a person unlovingly if you can believe that you were selected for love but she was not. The same is true of gospel proclamation: if you can convince yourself that God picks some and not others, then you have a harder time convincing yourself to tell them about how they might or might not be picked. I have heard several times that the doctrine of predestination does not remove the need for telling others about Jesus, because we do not know who is picked and who is not. But even though that would be true, it still removes incentive to call others into the world redeeming life of Jesus.
Finally, the notion of dispensational supersessionism mis reads Romans 9 because it has not read Malachi 1 to be an exposition on what it is to love within the context of judgement. Instead, driven by the desire to become the biggest, best, most loved, favored, etc, nation, it has ignored Paul's adamant assertion that Christ becomes the means by which the people of God is enlarged, not reduced. Jesus, the Messiah of Israel, did not come to cut Israel as a nation off (I know you're thinking of Romans 11, but read that passage carefully- it does not say that the tree was cut off, but only some branches) but to become the means for covenant participation for the rest of the world. Christ does not remove Israel from the covenant, but rather includes the gentiles in the covenant.
Two primary ideas have been derived from this bit of scripture. The first, famously, is that people are "predestined" on an individual basis for either heaven or hell. While this idea has lost popularity in public circles, it maintains a high degree of acceptance in the hallowed halls of academic theology, particularly within the Calvinistic traditions.
The second, related to the first, ascribes that same principle of selection to people groups as well as individuals. However, most scholars who purport this reading also, and by necessity if they are Christians, adhere to the notion of "dispensation," by which is meant that in various "epochs" or eras, God has chosen different people. This notion derives itself from some combination of anti-semitism, manifest destiny, and Christian supersessionism, becoming in a circuitous fashion the doctrine by which each of these notions are supported. We tend to do that: create doctrine out of our prejudices and then use that doctrine to support our prejudices.
These ideas come from a particular reading of Romans 9 which understand Paul's argument to be that the Jews have been rejected as God's people due to their unbelief in Jesus and complicency with Roman efforts to execute him. However, such a reading of Romans 9 fails to consider what is meant by the passage Paul is quoting: Malachi 1:3.
Malachi 1 begins the prophecy of destruction against Edom. But before the (in)famous declaration of selection between Jacob and Esau, verse 2 begins with a declaration of love by YHWH towards his people- "I have loved you, declares YHWH." But verse one finishes with a rebuttal- "But you have said: 'How have you loved us?'"
It is within the context of God's declaration of love and the bitter questioning of a people in distress that the famous proof text for predestination is offered. God's selection in this case is not arbitrary- the passage goes on to explain how God's love is not being received because the people are not acting in love. It seems to paint an unusual picture of God's interaction with God's people that hinges more entirely on the action of the people than on the love of God. See, the text contends that God's love is ever present, but that it is ignored by people who do not love in return. The verse in 1 John 4 that reads "We love because he first loved us" compels us to maintain the initial act of love as originating from God, but in Malachi and elsewhere we find the pivot point to be the response of love.
What is often overlooked or just plain ignored is the fact that in Malachi 1 Jacob represents the nation of Israel and Esau represents the nation of Edom. The text is not referring to individuals. It is referring to nations whose identities are tied to etiological characters who share a common ancestor; both nations are children of Abraham. Yet the text is clearly of the persuasion that the coming judgement on Edom (!) is not a result of a lack of God's love, but of the failure on the part of the people to return God's love appropriately.
This observation dispels two misconceptions. The first is the idea that God picks certain people and rejects others. Based on research of the alleged passages that support this claim, I contend that that claim is not consistent with the bible. Instead, I think it is a symptom of the same inclination that leads us to construct doctrines out of/that support our prejudices. It is easier to treat a person unlovingly if you can believe that you were selected for love but she was not. The same is true of gospel proclamation: if you can convince yourself that God picks some and not others, then you have a harder time convincing yourself to tell them about how they might or might not be picked. I have heard several times that the doctrine of predestination does not remove the need for telling others about Jesus, because we do not know who is picked and who is not. But even though that would be true, it still removes incentive to call others into the world redeeming life of Jesus.
Finally, the notion of dispensational supersessionism mis reads Romans 9 because it has not read Malachi 1 to be an exposition on what it is to love within the context of judgement. Instead, driven by the desire to become the biggest, best, most loved, favored, etc, nation, it has ignored Paul's adamant assertion that Christ becomes the means by which the people of God is enlarged, not reduced. Jesus, the Messiah of Israel, did not come to cut Israel as a nation off (I know you're thinking of Romans 11, but read that passage carefully- it does not say that the tree was cut off, but only some branches) but to become the means for covenant participation for the rest of the world. Christ does not remove Israel from the covenant, but rather includes the gentiles in the covenant.
Volunteering
I am taking a break from my abstract pontifications about God, life, and reality, and am turning my attention to a practical matter of service: Volunteering
Many churches and ministry organizations depend entirely on volunteer humanpower. This is, I think, a wonderful approach to ministry, as it enables the lay person to be a valuable and integral part of a church or ministry community. It also serves to alleviate the pressures placed upon paid staff "pastors" to perform every single function that the organization engages in. And besides ownership for the volunteer and alleviation for the pastor, the system of volunteer leadership develops growth and maturity in the volunteer as they are given the opportunity to try out their ideas and get some real world feedback on their ideals.
However, many people are skeptical of this system because they or someone they know have been taken advantage of while volunteering. It seems obvious; when you commit your energies towards something without an agreed return for your energies, the line between giving and being taken can be fuzzy if not down right transient. And it is likely that we are all worried about donating towards an unworthy cause.
There is an aspect of volunteering that can hedge against such abuses: voice. See, when we commit to serving some organization, we are often expected to volunteer our time, talents, and money. These are the things that are necessary for an organization to succeed. But when we volunteer those things without volunteering our voice, we open ourselves up to abuse and thankless hours of service that feel unappreciated.
It boils down to this: If you are serving and are asked to commit to an organization or project, be sure to commit your whole person- Time, Talent, Money and Voice! Time, Money and Talent should not come without the Voice, because the Voice is the part of the person that invites reflection. The other two can easily be manipulated, while your Voice is harder to manipulate.
The Voice is where you speak your mind, express concern, address issues of abuse or oversight, and generally let your self be known. This act functions in two directions simultaneously. The first is that it adds your perspective to the situation, and from where you stand you might see something no one else can. Second, it allows the leaders in your life to know where you stand, and gives them permission to encourage you in the direction you need to grow. This serves to benefit both the organization and the volunteer, as both are developed.
So speak up! Concerned with a practice at your organization? Bring it to the person in charge of that practice. This highlights an important distinction: the difference between having a voice and gossiping. Gossiping is talking about a problem where neither you or the other person are a part of the problem or the solution. That's gossip, and it is not using your Voice appropriately. Having and using your Voice is bringing your concerns and ideas to the people who are either part of the problem or solution. And always be prepared to have your own eyes opened, because you may not see everything from where you stand. And if you're wrong in your concern, then the organization has the opportunity to build rapport with you by showing you what is really going on.
But this system requires humility all the way around- on the part of the volunteer and on the part of the leaders of the organization. If egos are left unchecked the system breaks down and both sides leave bitter and angry. So if you lead, do so with confident humility. And if you volunteer, do so with confident humility.
And in case you are wondering, this post draws heavily on Ephesians 4. If you're interested, go check that out and read it through the lens of volunteers and leaders in ministry organizations.
Many churches and ministry organizations depend entirely on volunteer humanpower. This is, I think, a wonderful approach to ministry, as it enables the lay person to be a valuable and integral part of a church or ministry community. It also serves to alleviate the pressures placed upon paid staff "pastors" to perform every single function that the organization engages in. And besides ownership for the volunteer and alleviation for the pastor, the system of volunteer leadership develops growth and maturity in the volunteer as they are given the opportunity to try out their ideas and get some real world feedback on their ideals.
However, many people are skeptical of this system because they or someone they know have been taken advantage of while volunteering. It seems obvious; when you commit your energies towards something without an agreed return for your energies, the line between giving and being taken can be fuzzy if not down right transient. And it is likely that we are all worried about donating towards an unworthy cause.
There is an aspect of volunteering that can hedge against such abuses: voice. See, when we commit to serving some organization, we are often expected to volunteer our time, talents, and money. These are the things that are necessary for an organization to succeed. But when we volunteer those things without volunteering our voice, we open ourselves up to abuse and thankless hours of service that feel unappreciated.
It boils down to this: If you are serving and are asked to commit to an organization or project, be sure to commit your whole person- Time, Talent, Money and Voice! Time, Money and Talent should not come without the Voice, because the Voice is the part of the person that invites reflection. The other two can easily be manipulated, while your Voice is harder to manipulate.
The Voice is where you speak your mind, express concern, address issues of abuse or oversight, and generally let your self be known. This act functions in two directions simultaneously. The first is that it adds your perspective to the situation, and from where you stand you might see something no one else can. Second, it allows the leaders in your life to know where you stand, and gives them permission to encourage you in the direction you need to grow. This serves to benefit both the organization and the volunteer, as both are developed.
So speak up! Concerned with a practice at your organization? Bring it to the person in charge of that practice. This highlights an important distinction: the difference between having a voice and gossiping. Gossiping is talking about a problem where neither you or the other person are a part of the problem or the solution. That's gossip, and it is not using your Voice appropriately. Having and using your Voice is bringing your concerns and ideas to the people who are either part of the problem or solution. And always be prepared to have your own eyes opened, because you may not see everything from where you stand. And if you're wrong in your concern, then the organization has the opportunity to build rapport with you by showing you what is really going on.
But this system requires humility all the way around- on the part of the volunteer and on the part of the leaders of the organization. If egos are left unchecked the system breaks down and both sides leave bitter and angry. So if you lead, do so with confident humility. And if you volunteer, do so with confident humility.
And in case you are wondering, this post draws heavily on Ephesians 4. If you're interested, go check that out and read it through the lens of volunteers and leaders in ministry organizations.
What Happens?
What happens when light is shone on the darkness?
What happens to the shadows when they are revealed?
What of the things done in darkness?
What of the power of offense?
What happens when sin is revealed?
Does it change or do we?
And which is redemption?
Are the acts redeemed?
Or the actors?
I've often wondered what to make of the notion that sin thrives in darkness, and when brought to the light it loses its power and dies. How does this work? In part, I agree with so many moral watchdogs that the debauchery portrayed on film and television or the internet glorifies it, but I then wonder if that portrayal has the ability to convict as well.
Or, does it only remove the power of conviction from it? Do we become so accustomed to seeing brutal violence that we think it an appropriate way to settle a dispute? Do we become so used to seeing people engaged in illicit sex acts that we are moved to behave in the same manner without consideration of the consequences?
Part of this question arises from witnessing the reaction of many to the internet's ability to share information on a scale never imagined before: We now know what goes on in the darkened corners of society and the world. And we are appalled (some of us, anyway). But does this revelation redeem, or condemn?
While I may seem to be asking this rhetorically, I am actually not. Is the knowledge of sin that which condemns or redeems? "For by the law came the knowledge of sin." "...then you will be like God, knowing the difference between good and evil." Innocence, in a sense, can be confused with ignorance. Is the law sin? The first passage comes from Romans 3:20, and the second comes from Genesis 3:5. Sin originated from the desire to be like God, and in that sense to be like God was to know what was good and what was evil. If we follow this logic, then we come to another question: Is an act evil before we know it is?
Now, before we get too far down this path, Romans addresses this earlier than chapter 3, when it states that inherent to all humanity is the knowledge of sin. But this is because of sin. Sin begets more sin. So without the knowledge of sin, is there sin? Before we knew of a practice and disapproved of it, was it still evil? Or, if we approve of a practice, does it then become good?
There are, of course, ways of determining the sinfulness of an action: does it create in the actor love, or hate? Does it isolate, or include? Does it bring the person to God, or close them off from God? Does it resonate consonantly with the bible or dissonantly? But we are unable to determine the relation of the act to these tests unless we observe and understand the acts and actors. And this should lead us to humility and inquiry before conclusions are made that carry such dramatic weight as the label of "sin."
What happens to the shadows when they are revealed?
What of the things done in darkness?
What of the power of offense?
What happens when sin is revealed?
Does it change or do we?
And which is redemption?
Are the acts redeemed?
Or the actors?
I've often wondered what to make of the notion that sin thrives in darkness, and when brought to the light it loses its power and dies. How does this work? In part, I agree with so many moral watchdogs that the debauchery portrayed on film and television or the internet glorifies it, but I then wonder if that portrayal has the ability to convict as well.
Or, does it only remove the power of conviction from it? Do we become so accustomed to seeing brutal violence that we think it an appropriate way to settle a dispute? Do we become so used to seeing people engaged in illicit sex acts that we are moved to behave in the same manner without consideration of the consequences?
Part of this question arises from witnessing the reaction of many to the internet's ability to share information on a scale never imagined before: We now know what goes on in the darkened corners of society and the world. And we are appalled (some of us, anyway). But does this revelation redeem, or condemn?
While I may seem to be asking this rhetorically, I am actually not. Is the knowledge of sin that which condemns or redeems? "For by the law came the knowledge of sin." "...then you will be like God, knowing the difference between good and evil." Innocence, in a sense, can be confused with ignorance. Is the law sin? The first passage comes from Romans 3:20, and the second comes from Genesis 3:5. Sin originated from the desire to be like God, and in that sense to be like God was to know what was good and what was evil. If we follow this logic, then we come to another question: Is an act evil before we know it is?
Now, before we get too far down this path, Romans addresses this earlier than chapter 3, when it states that inherent to all humanity is the knowledge of sin. But this is because of sin. Sin begets more sin. So without the knowledge of sin, is there sin? Before we knew of a practice and disapproved of it, was it still evil? Or, if we approve of a practice, does it then become good?
There are, of course, ways of determining the sinfulness of an action: does it create in the actor love, or hate? Does it isolate, or include? Does it bring the person to God, or close them off from God? Does it resonate consonantly with the bible or dissonantly? But we are unable to determine the relation of the act to these tests unless we observe and understand the acts and actors. And this should lead us to humility and inquiry before conclusions are made that carry such dramatic weight as the label of "sin."
The trouble with "Father God"
I'm a new father. My 3 month old son is a constant source of entertainment and challenge, and over the weekend I started thinking about the analogy of God as a loving father. There is something about the analogy that doesn't quite fit when it all is put together. I know that analogies only hold up so far, but this is one that seems to have been given ultimate congruence with reality, and I'm not sure that is appropriate. Here's why:
As a father, I know better than my son what is best for him. At times, I cannot give him what he wants because it will not be good for him- we are in the process of letting him learn to sleep by himself right now, as object permanence is developing in his mind. As much as he wants to be held in order to fall asleep, when he wakes up he will be hysterical if we put him down. This will prevent him from getting the sleep he needs, as well as keep us from getting the sleep we need to care for him appropriately. Or, if he wants to eat when his belly is full in order to go to sleep, he will overeat and throw up the food that is already in his stomach, and then still not get the sleep he needs either. It is a difficult thing to care for a child against his wishes, but this how God cares for us at times. And to this point, the analogy holds.
But where it begins to break down is when we move beyond training and into protection. I love my son, and as much as it is within my power I will not let anything life threatening or dangerous happen to him. I will not let him play with electrical outlets or the burners on our stove. But eventually he will have to learn about these things and understand the pain that can be caused by them. Eventually I will stop telling him not to touch (when he is much, much older, of course. Like 25. Then I'll let him touch the burner...), and if he hasn't figured it out by then, he will get burned or shocked and learn why I told him not to play with those things for all those years. But I will not let him, as much as it is within my power, play on the train tracks, or run into traffic, or try to pet lions. When he gets older, I hope to have taught him the dangers of heroine, or cocaine, or alcohol abuse. And I will not stand by and let him kill himself. And here the analogy breaks down, because I am not all-powerful. I cannot keep my son from doing things that will cost him his life, despite my best efforts.
But we say that God is all-powerful. The only way my son is going to die as a child is if I am unable to prevent it. That is a possibility because I am not all-powerful. When he is an adult, I will not be able to prevent him from making life ending choices because I will not be with him all the time. But we say that God is with us all the time. He could end his life when I am not looking. But we say God sees all.
And this is where God is not a father like me. I will let my child experience difficult and painful things in order that he may learn and grow and become a person of character, but character is irrelevant to a dead person. While I understand that my capacity for love, for understanding, for goodness is finite, I can't accept without critique the idea of God as a loving father, because I've known far too many people who have taken their own life, or have died of accident. Even accidents can be understood as being God's time for that person to die, but suicide does not fit into that for me.
There seem to be two obvious choices in light of what I've just said: first, we have to say that either God is not all powerful or all loving. OR, we need to adjust our perspective of who God is to match both what the bible tells us about God as well as what we experience in life.
So I wonder, then, if we might do well to re-evaluate our talk of God as father, because there is more to it than that. I'm not prepared to suggest that God is limited in power or love, but I do think we need to reconsider the limits of reality that we construct around God. We need to change the way we talk about God. We then need to change the way we imagine ourselves and our relationship to others...
"An Honest Question to Difficult Answers"
Last summer, I was given the opportunity to write an article on music, worship, and anti-racism for the journal Liturgy. My task was to explore what it is to work towards racial reconciliation through church music in non-multicultural congregations. That article was published online on Tuesday and will be out in print next month! The subscriptions are pricey, as is individual article purchase, so my publisher has been gracious enough to give me a link to share that offers free access to my article! The link is below, followed by the Abstract for my article. Enjoy!
"An Honest Question to Difficult Answers: Explorations in Music, Culturalism, and Reconciliation"
The importance of worship music in conversations about congregational health and growth is contested. The perception persists that worship music style is a primary means of determining comfort or belonging for “church shoppers” at a given congregation. Yet actual research shows that it has a more modest role than is assumed.[i] Nevertheless, conversations regarding worship music abound, and with each passing publication we become more and more obsessed with finding and exploiting the correlates between worship music styles and ecclesial success.
Yet there are many styles of worship music, and the style that best expresses the prayer of one person may not best express the prayer of another. Moreover, in a society that is made up of as many and diverse cultures as North America, we begin to discern that cultural distinctiveness is embodied in the music we find pleasing—sometimes to the exclusion of those who differ from us. Yet the church is intended to be the united body of Christ (1 Cor. 12), and we must ask ourselves how we can live into this reality in the realm of music. Can we find ways of worshiping that allow for those who stand beyond our cultural heritage to join in our musical expression of prayer? And, perhaps, we in theirs?
Truth As Relationship
Vacation is over, and it is time to get back on the blogging horse again. I trust you have enjoyed my break as much as I have, and now it is time to resume exploring how our orientation towards truth as that which proves Jesus in retrospect is flawed, and offer an alternative view of how Jesus is indeed the truth.
To begin with, and briefly, I assume that in light of Jn. 14 Jesus is the revelatory point of origin for the revelation of God. That is to say that I, along with Bonhoeffer and others, consider God to be the ultimate "reality" (non-platonic sense), and in Christ that reality has been made known to humanity. This means that the ultimate reality is then the incarnate God in Christ in humanity.
Yet this kind of truth talk requires qualification. That is because unless further defined this type of truth talk can lead us to disallow the real experiences of people as untrue. But the other side of the coin causes us to question the qualitative merit of empirical truth- just because something is true does not mean that it is good. How then do we find consonance within the triadic dissonance of Jesus the truth who is not all truth but at the same time does not negate as unreal that which he is not?
I would like to propose a different way of thinking about truth theologically. What if instead of a binary conception of truth that is either a 1 or a 0-that is or is not-we consider that in light of Jesus' claim in Jn. 14 that truth thus revealed describes the quality of a thing? What if truth is actually the relationship between an entity and reality?
I come to ask this question because I think it reveals what we mean when we say that something is true: we assume truth to be good. This subconscious equation is a by-product of our modern conditioning, the outgrowth of positivism. We tend to hold truth as the highest human value, but truth has a dark side to it. We call it evil. But evil is as true as goodness. How then do we determine the difference between what is and what should be?
I suspect that the simple answer of "let Jesus be the determiner of what is good" is on the surface accurate, but it is too broad, because it fails to account for humanity' inability to determine what is good. Majority rules? Might makes right?
What then is good?
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