"the Bible Clearly Says..."

It's Thursday, which, according to my calendar, is "Blog Day." I am exhausted. Three weeks of unmitigated sleep disruption has finally begun to soften, and I am feeling the effects of coming down from my adrenaline high. I don't want to write. I don't want to think. I want to sleep. I want to not think. 

But those are not options. I need to think. I need to write.

So here is my brief rant for the day. Nothing profound, just a bit of frustration manifesting itself outwardly.

I'm sick of people saying things like "the Bible clearly says..." and then going on to express an opinion that is highly contested. I began to wonder if there is anything in the bible that is clearly said. I conducted a little survey on my facebook page to see if I was on the right track with my assumption. Here's what I posted:

"Opinion poll: Would anyone say that according to the bible it is NOT sin to be unloving? Honest question"

And guess what? It was contested. Even something as seemingly obvious as calling a refusal to love someone "sin" was argued against. By Christians. To be fair, the arguments were nuanced and pointed to contextual usage of the command to "love one another" as being perverted so as to perpetuate oppressive systems. But there was still no consensus about the bible being clear about unloving action as sin.


Here's my point: The Bible isn't clear about anything.


If it was, it would not contain Acts 8:26-40. In this passage, the Spirit causes Philip to meet an Ethiopian eunuch who was riding in his chariot, reading the bible. Philip asks the man if he understood what he was reading. The man's response is telling: "How can I since no one has explained it to me?" (31) If the bible were "clear" in the sense that everyone, without training or being instructed, can read it for themselves, then why is this story in the bible?


My point is that we cannot read or understand the bible without the company of others who will read it with us and converse about what we are reading. And our company of readers needs to seek out those who know more about it than we do so they can help us understand it. Here's what experience has taught me:


Whenever someone says "the Bible clearly says..."they don't know what they are talking about.

Maybe this is a part of what the bible's overt stance against pride is all about. Humility is, I think, always the best option. When something in the bible is contested by those who study and try to live out what it says, approach the conversation with humility. Offer your opinion as what it is: your opinion. Say something like "I'm not sure what that obscure Greek word that is only used in this one instance means, but I think it means this because of this." Own your opinion, confess your filter, and be honestly humble.


It's funny how often honest and humility go together.

The Deep Parts and Soul Healing

I think we all have deep parts. I think that somewhere, tucked beneath our bones we have a person, a soul, if you will. I think that in this deep part we feel our most intense longings, fears, hurts, joys, failures, triumphs. I think about what it is that lives in those parts of me. I think about what lives in those parts of others.

It's Memorial Day today (yesterday, when you read this). A day we have set aside to remember those who have died fighting for our freedom (I have opinions on this notion that will be left for another day). This is, in a convoluted way, admirable. I think I too am wont to honor the sacrifice of so many who have given their lives in honor, duty, sacrifice, and all too often, ignorance. But aside from all of these possibly noble reasons, they served and gave their lives in the auspice of my freedom. And I am thankful beyond measure for that sentiment.

But what of the ones who return? What of the ones who do not give their lives, but take? On a day set aside to honor our fallen warriors what of those who bear the deep wounds of living on?

I have read some tender, heart wrenching stories of soldiers both living and dead today. Those stories coupled with the innumerable stories I have heard in my lifetime create a picture of ache, of wound, of pain. When you've seen death up close there is no unseeing it. And I wonder how those memories can be healed. Sojourners had a wonderful article on this topic, and I want to direct you to that article here as well.

But I also want to consider what it is to heal those deep places, the places we call a "soul." What is it to be a soul healer? That's something I want to find out, and I want to be that person for the world.

My friend JR Woodward wrote a wonderful book called Creating a Missional Culture, and in it he describes what it is to be a soul healer. I highly recommend picking up a copy of his book for a wonderfully practical insight into living out God's intention for the world.

The Lie ptII

I will freely admit that much of my life feels like I am in the shadows. Or better, that my life has become a shadow. It seems that very often light exists beyond the horizon. Other times, it seems to be just beyond my grasp; I can see it, enough to know the shadow, but I'm never in it.

I've used several words and phrases here that are quite loaded, and I've done so intentionally to convey the multiplicity of ways that I live into the lies I believe. I am constantly searching for some epiphanic moment where I will see truth clearly and know what it is. I keep hoping that I will see Jesus clearly and know that it is Jesus. But as the bible says, we see now through a mirror, and dimly at that. I wonder if we see through the shadows.

-

When the light draws near and I can see where the light stops and the shadow begins, I find myself trying to catch the fading light. But no matter how vigorously I chase the light I am always in the shadow. It is as if the faster I run the faster the shadow moves, keeping pace with me as if it were my own shadow.

Because it is.

I am the thing that blocks the light. The light I chase is prevented from being seen because I am facing the wrong direction, with my back to the light I am constantly in shadow. I cannot bear to turn and face the brightness of the light because I prefer this view. My eyes have grown accustomed to this darkness. This is what I want; this is my space. Yet I desire the light. But I want to light to engulf me without it obstructing my view. I want light without it eliminating my shadow.

But it doesn't work that way.

Lies exist because they are believed. I am the sum total of what I believe, and if I believe something so rigorously that even in with the light shining directly on my back I refuse to turn and face it, because turning and facing it would mean the destruction of everything I believe myself to be.

That's how grace works. 

Grace destroys the self-constructed self. Grace reveals the inadequacy of my beliefs. Grace rebukes me for arguing my rightness. Grace shines on my shadow and lights up my life. But when it does, I lose my sense of righteousness. I lose all the things I imagine in the shadow. I become the creature and not the god.

In grace, I become human.

Faith the Second

Last week I began exploring how the bible uses the word faith and what it means by it. I began comparing Malachi 1-3 to Romans 9, and argued that the sense in which Paul is using faith in Romans 9 by quoting Malachi 1 is the same as that which Malachi is using it: the proper orientation of spouses in marriage. The bible uses "faith" in the sense of how marriage partners are supposed to be "faithful" to each other. It is, in this instance, not a set of markers for what is real. Faith is not a conceived set of limits to reality.

The second sense of faith that I want to look at is the way it functions in Luke 17 1-10. In verses 1-4 Jesus instructs his disciples to forgive the repentant and be forgiven without limit. The disciples response to this admonition is: "Lord, increase our faith!" (vs. 5). This seems an illogical request to the way we think of faith- why is faith the critical component of forgiveness?

If we are determined to maintain an understanding of faith that is purely cognitive, then we must construct an impressive network of patterns and cause/effect sequences to arrive at a point where we can understand the disciples' response. We would need to assume that the way we understand reality determines our action absolutely. That construction assumes a cognitive authority that is imputable for action; that there is no action that can transgress what we think of as real. So in that sense, we would say that the disciples have a readily accessible understanding of the world which says that you cannot forgive a person that much because it will violate some universal principle of retibutive justice. And so a new paradigm must be employed that eschews justice in faovr of God's mercy; trusting that God will make it right while we allow sin to reign.

This sounds all well and good, as we in fact do need to make those cognitive moves to arrive at a place where we can truly forgive others. But the problem with the logic that got us there is that it assumes a singular potential sequence of cause and effect from cognitive to active. That is to say, that no other possible option from point A exists except to arrive at point Z. It assumes a rational validity that only goes in one possible direction. Your "worldview" is changed and therefore you will inevitably act in this specific way, regardless of decision or action.

There is, as I'm sure you've guessed, a better option in this reading of Luke 17 in my estimation: that faith here functions volitionally, not cognitively. When the disciples ask for more faith, they are not assuming that through some complex system of metaphysical leaps they will arrive at a place where they will understand forgiveness and so act accordingly, but are asking for the ability to decide to forgive. They understand faith as a volitional action that in some cases, such as the one under consideration, will violate our sense of justice and righteousness. Faith is, in some cases, a decision to act against our beliefs.

Jesus' response in verses 6-10 demonstrate that this faith is not a magical power (as we sometimes assume), but is the expected posture of those who follow Him. "The slave does not expect a reward from his master for doing his job, does he? So you too, when you have done everything commanded of you, should say 'we are only slaves doing our duty.'" This faith is not a change in perspective (although that does happen as a result of faith), but is the decision to act obediently.

Specifically, it is the decision to forgive even though the perpetrator persists. Faith is intrinsically the posture of forgiveness exhibited by those who are simply the slaves of the kingdom of heaven. This then implies humility...

Blog Location Update

In case you missed it, my blog has moved to http://nathanmyrick.blogspot.com/.

Please update your RSS feeds accordingly.

The cause for this move has been the awesome website redisign by the amazing Jared Moody and my fabulous wife, Lesley Myrick!

The Lie

Have you ever wondered what makes a lie a lie? Or, what is a lie, exactly?

This may seem like a stupid question, but I trust that is you ponder it with me you may see why I am giving it such thought. See, we naturally assume a two dimensional, oppositional position of a lie to truth. That is to say, a lie is the exact opposite of truth. And on the surface, this appears to be so. But a lie is not always the exact opposite of truth, as the most destructive lies have elements of truth in them.

Beyond that, there is a difference betweena  lie and mistake. A mistake is to be wrong unintentionally. If wrong information is shared due to ignorance, it is not a lie per se, but is in fact an error. Culpability is stil present with an error, but the one who errs is not accorded the status of a liar. Why? Because a lie involves intention to deceive, usually for the sake of ilicit gain.

So then, we may say that a lie is the willful assertion of an untruth, or the willful withholding of pertinent aspects of truth from conversation. In this we can understand that a lie is really an intentional absence of important truth. In fact, a lie cannot, in this sense, be defined without being placed intoa  subordinate relationship to truth. A lie, like a shadow, does not actually exist, but is rather the prohibition of that which does exist; the result of something blocking the light.

But in order to identify lies we must have a sure grasp on what truth is. We identify a shadow because everything else around it is illuminated. We can then trace the shadow back to its source; to the object that stands between the source of light and the space to be illuminated. We need to know what the light looks like to be able to pick out the shadows.

And this is where it gets tricky, because truth isn't obvious. I think that this is so because of a thing called sin, but that is for another time. Ignoring the theological categorization of sin for the present time, the reason truth is so hard to define is because we're not sure what we are looking for. For Christians, this is because we, due to linguistic and historical forces that have shaped us inescapably, intuitively assume that truth is symbiotic to goodness. Yet our experience and lived reality render this understanding invalid, because truth is not always good in our estimation. Yet we continue to look for the good-truth and are contantly disapointed when we fail to discover it.

Given enough time and experience, we gradually begin to look for something to inform our good-truth searching, because we are unable to discern it. In good piety, we have asserted that the bible is that which informs our good-truth quest, but we soon discover that understandings about the bible are as varied and contradictory as our opinions about truth. So we are then tasked with finding something to ground our understadning of the bible. That something is usually belief.

But our beliefs, as fundamental as they are, leave us open to lies. Why? Because they are no better at identifying what light looks like than we are, because they are us. Furthermore, our beliefs make us even more susceptible to destructive half-lies because the amount of truth they contain causes them to bypass our filter and infiltrate our psyche. Our believed lies then proceed to become the measuring stick for truth, and we cannot figure out why we constantly live in shadows. Where has the light gone?

Where The NT Gets Its Ideas About Faith

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.