While I could appeal to the Church Fathers on this matter – specifically how St. Ignatius, a disciple of John, refers to those who deny that Christ is present in the bread and wine as “heterodox” – it is easier to appeal to Scripture. Many Christians in the Protestant tradition are too quick to dismiss the Church Fathers; rather than offer a treatise on why we should include them in our interpretations, it is best simply to take the Scripture for what it is.

Biblical Context of John 6:53–60

The context of John 6 provides the set up and meaning for the contentious passages concerning partaking in Christ’s body and blood. Chapter 6 opens to John recounting Christ feeding the five thousand people with just a few loaves of bread and a few fish (vv. 1–14).[2] After performing the miracle, John recounts that Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee to avoid being made a king (v. 15).

The next day the crowd located Christ on the other side of the sea and sought him out because he had given them food (vv. 22–26). It is here where Christ rebukes the crowd for not seeing the deeper meaning in his feeding of the five thousand people, notably that he is the eternal bread of life that cannot run out and is always plentiful (vv. 27–29).[3] He then begins to explain that he is greater than Moses; while Moses gave the Israelites temporal bread in the desert, he [Jesus] gives eternal bread that also grants eternal life because he is the bread that comes down from Heaven (vv. 30–52). It is here the Jews question what Christ means by such a confusing statement, which leads to vv. 53–60 where Christ makes what was then (and is now) a baffling statement about eating his body and drinking his blood. The seventh chapter of John deals with the ramifications of Christ’s words as the Jews seek to kill him, causing Jesus to flee Judea.

In a broader biblical context, this passage helps to demonstrate that Jesus truly is the Messiah, which is the intended purpose of the Gospel of John (John 20:30-31). However, in order to demonstrate that Jesus is the promised Messiah to the Jewish population, John presents quite a few themes in the entire Gospel, specifically Christology, ecclesiology, pneumatology, theology, and eschatology.[4] Whereas John 1 serves as a preamble to the Gospel of John, in many ways John 6 serves as the solidification that Jesus is the Messiah, by showing that He descended from Heaven and offers eternal life.

Meaning Analysis

While many people will grant that the main point of John 6 is to show Jesus as the Messiah, one can wonder why exactly John goes to great lengths to focus on Christ saying He is the “bread of life.” Certainly if the phrase is merely symbolic, or a metaphor as some contend[5], then John would have little need to include it in his Gospel. He could have opted for a less offensive metaphor, or another memory of Christ’s teaching that He was the bread of life while not mentioning eating of his flesh or drinking his blood. Yet, despite his options, John chose to use Eucharistic language in this particular passage.

Looking to the immediate context, one can see that John shows the repugnance of both the Jews and other disciples as a way of indicating that Christ was talking about something beyond a metaphor. Metaphors might upset people to varying degrees, but once explained metaphors can usually be tolerated; yet with Christ this is not the case. Verse 60 shows that Jesus’ own disciples admitted that it “…[I]s a hard saying… ,” thus showing that the immediate audience took what Christ said as something more than a metaphor. One can see in the next chapter that John states the Jews sought to kill Christ after the events of John 6:53–60. While some have argued for alternative reasons for the Jews and disciples being so offended[6], Tremper Longman III and David E. Garland contend that,

The Jews were seriously offended by the repugnant idea of eating flesh – even the Greco-Roman world viewed any kind of “cannibalism” with horror. And if Jesus meant to be understood as speaking figuratively, what in the world did his remark mean?[7]

Thus, it is quite easy to conclude that the original audience took Jesus’ saying prima facie and did not see it as a metaphor.

As stated, however, when John wrote his Gospel he had a particular audience in mind, specifically Christians who needed confirmation that Jesus truly was the promised Messiah. Therefore, while John 6 serves a partial purpose of displaying Jesus as the Messiah, it also strengthens the practice of the Eucharist. According to The New Interpreter’s Bible,

The syntax of v. 53 (“unless…”) makes clear that eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Son of Man is a condition for receiving the gift of life. …The strong emphasis on the Eucharist reflects a shift in the primary audience to whom the Fourth Evangelist understands these words of Jesus to be addressed. The primary audience is no longer the audience in the store (the Jewish crowd), but the readers in John’s own time. …The insistence in v. 53 on both the fullness of the incarnation and the participation in the eucharist may be the Evangelist’s attempt to counter developing docetic or gnostic tendencies within his community that wanted to deny the bodily aspects of Christ and of Christian experience.[8]

John therefore includes the saying of Christ for the purpose of reminding Christians exactly what they are partaking in when they engage in the Lord’s Supper; while arguing for transubstantiation (that the bread and wine become the same substance of Christ) may take John 6:53–50 beyond its exegetical scope, it is equally incorrect to take the Lord’s Supper as pure symbolism or metaphor.

The idea of partaking in Jesus’ flesh and blood is repeated throughout Scripture. In Matthew 26:26-28 we read,

Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

The same language is used in Mark 14:22-25, Luke 22:14-23, and even 1 Corinthians 11:23-29. John certainly would have been aware of such language, so for him to include a passage that solidifies a literal reading of “flesh and blood” would indicate that John understood Christ’s own words to be literal.

Further, the internal evidence doesn’t seem to lend itself to metaphor or symbolism. By saying “verily, verily” Christ indicated that He was making a very strong statement of authority, not something that had to be read into. It seems odd to say that this passage is symbolic or metaphorical when evangelical Christians are unwilling (and rightfully so) to say that Christ’s miracles were metaphorical, that His resurrection was metaphorical, or that the events preceding this passage were metaphorical. After all, if it is possible for Christ to raise from the dead, certainly it’s nothing for Him to be present in the bread and wine presented to His followers.

A final way around this passage as forcing one into accepting that Christ is present in the bread and wine at the Eucharist is to say that the passage has nothing to do with the Lord’s Supper, as Calvin did.[9] However, such a reading is not likely when, once again, we consider the context John was writing in. As evangelical scholar Andreas J. Köstenberger writes, “On a secondarily level, however, John may expect his readers to read Jesus’ words in light of the church’s observance of the Lord’s Supper, though not necessarily in a sacramental sense.”[10] The New Interpreter’s commentary, however, drives the point home:

In Hebrew, the double formula “flesh and blood” emphasizes the corporeality of human existence, and its use here is thus an affirmation of the incarnation of the Son for Man. For the Christian reader, however, the double formula has unmistakable Eucharistic associations.[11]

When considering the cultural context John was writing it’s almost impossible to see 6:53-60 as not relating to the Eucharist.

Meaning for the Modern Age and Conclusion

In light of John 6:53–60, evangelical Christians must rethink how they approach the Lord’s Supper, or more appropriately, the Eucharist. In partaking in the Eucharist Christians are engaging in more than a mere act of symbolism, but a very mystical act that unifies the believer with Christ’s body, and unifies the local body with each other (1 Corinthians 10:16–17). The fear of the Roman Catholic Church should not prevent us from seeking the truth. Likewise, we do not have to buy into transubstantiation (as in the Roman Catholic tradition) in order to believe that Christ’s essence is in the bread and wine.[12] We can say with a straight face that we really are partaking in the body and blood of Christ – eating of His flesh and drinking of His blood – without agreeing that we are partaking in His substance, just His essence.

Thus, upon reading John 6:53–60, believers are to recognize that they partake in Christ’s spirit through faith, but also partake in his body through the Eucharist. In both they are unified with each other in the local body, and ultimately unified together in the universal Church. Therefore, when Christians come together for the Lord’s Supper, an aura of respect should be prevalent among the congregation. One should truly seek the forgiveness of his brother before partaking in the body of Christ (Matthew 5:24). During the taking of the bread and drinking of the wine the church should recognize it’s unity in that moment and then seek to live that unity in perfect holiness as they depart; for Christ is present in the Eucharist as he stated quite plainly in John 6:53–60.

For those who aren’t familiar with the premise of The Walking Dead (WD), it’s a show on AMC that deals with how society would handle the zombie apocalypse. As you can imagine, society doesn’t handle it very well. What differentiates the show from normal zombie flicks, however, is that it’s more focused on the human response to the apocalypse rather than millions of zombies running around in shopping malls attempting to devour whatever is in their path (except for each other, which leads to one of the great mysteries of the universe: Why don’t zombies eat each other?).  The show focuses on the human interaction during a time of great crisis when the future is entirely uncertain; while WD has its fair share of monsters (or, “walkers” as they’re called in the show), in many ways the show demonstrates both the greatness of humanity and how, in our own way, we too can be monstrous even without being zombies.

Season 2 demonstrates the above brilliantly, specifically in the last few episodes. Earlier in the season, one of the characters – a boy named Carl – was accidentally shot by a stranger named Otis. Otis was shooting at a deer for food and the bullet passed through the deer and into Carl. As it happens, Otis lives on a farm with a family where the patriarch is a veterinarian (yet somehow knows how to operate on humans – the MacGyver of veterinarians). Problem is, he lacks the necessary equipment to operate on Carl. Thus Shane (another character in the show, not the boy’s father) and Otis embark on a quest to bring back the equipment. The good news is the equipment is easily found a few miles away at an abandoned FEMA shelter. The bad news is the FEMA shelter is abandoned because there’s a bunch of zombies wandering around it. Why they chose to stay there rather than wandering off, who knows.

Shane and Otis break in, get the equipment, but are noticed by the zombies. Rather than letting bygones be bygones, the mindless horde of flesh-eaters decides that Shane and Otis look quite tasty. The two men, objecting to the advances of the zombies, decide to make a run for it. In the process, Shane hurts his leg and hops along. As he and Otis slowly move towards their truck it becomes obvious that the zombie horde will catch up with the two men. Shane tells Otis to take the equipment and get it back to the farm to save the boy. Otis rejects the offer and chooses to continue to help Shane. Shane, realizing a sacrifice needs to be made, pulls out his gun and shoots Otis in the leg, leaving Otis as zombie bait while Shane makes his escape. Shane gets the equipment to the farm and in turn saves Carl’s life.

The show presents the act as disgusting and Shane is obviously the villain in the act and to most people Shane certainly is a villain; leave it to a philosopher to question common sense. The moment I saw what Shane did I was appalled, and then I realized that what he did is entirely ethical under most modern ethical theories. So I did what any sensible Christian philosopher would do, I asked what Thomas Aquinas would do. If Thomas Aquinas lived during the zombie apocalypse, what would his response be on how we who are living should act against the (un)living?

Sadly, Aquinas was a rather large man, so chances are if the zombie apocalypse broke out he wouldn’t last. After all, being large we know he wouldn’t be able to run for long distances or very fast. But in the brief time period of his survival from the zombie horde it would be safe to say that Aquinas would roundly reject Shane’s actions; in fact, under Thomistic ethics there is simply no way to justify killing an innocent in order to save the life of another innocent. Yet, I’m not sure that Aquinas goes far enough. Is virtue enough to stop Shane from killing Otis?

I argue that only through theanthropic ethics (theanthropic = God-man, or a human life lived in the Divine) could one look at Shane’s actions and find a justification for moral repulsion. Ultimately, Shane’s actions are selfish and not sacrificial; theanthropic ethics relies on love as the foundation and Shane’s actions simply weren’t loving.

The Failure of Current Ethical Theories to Explain Our Moral Outrage

Most audience members experienced some initial revulsion at Shane’s actions. There was almost a prima facie rejection of Shane’s actions, as though collectively everyone thought, “I would never do that!” Yet, while the show is fictional, it serves as an appropriate analogy for real life situations; remember that in Nazi Germany many people faced the decision of killing an innocent in order to save their own lives, or to save the lives of others. German soldiers were told to kill Jews or face having their own families killed or being killed themselves. We can also think of the modern-day tragedies in Africa where RUF soldiers, or some other guerilla group, forces young children to kill innocent farmers or face being put to death themselves. So while I do write this article a bit tongue-in-cheek, we should understand WD does a magnificent job of presenting a very real ethical dilemma.

Sadly, almost all systems of ethics can justify Shane’s action of killing an innocent man in order to save Carl’s life (or to save Shane’s life). I can give a brief run-down here, though the list (and explanations) are hardly comprehensive:

Utilitarianism – this is the ethic that easily justifies Shane’s actions (and for those keeping up with the show, we’re seeing this ethic continue to arise on whether or not they should search for the missing girl, how to handle the zombie barn hoedown, and the like). Utilitarianism teaches that one is obligated to beget the greatest good (or happiness) for the greatest number of people. When looking to Shane’s actions we see Shane was faced with a few options:

(1) Continue to run with Otis, which would almost certainly lead to their deaths and subsequently Carl’s death, thus leading to the loss of three people from their group

(2) Sacrifice himself by shooting his own leg, forcing Otis to continue on. Of course, Otis had no obligation to Shane’s own group, thus Shane would be committing an act of disservice for his group because they would lose him

(3) Sacrifice Otis in order to get the medical supplies to Carl, thus saving the life of a young member of the group, someone who could help repopulate the earth once the zombies had sated their appetites

Thus, from the Utilitarian perspective Shane was merely aiding the human race by ensuring that (1) Carl was saved and (2) a more productive member of the two groups (himself) survived the ordeal. One can’t show any moral outrage at Shane because he brought about a greater good, even if the means are a bit uncomfortable.

Ethics of the Übermensch – Under Nietzsche’s view of ethics, Shane was simply creating a new ethical framework and then living within that framework. That framework put Shane at the center and gave him the power to act above all others. As the episodes go on, one can see that Shane is attempting to persuade those of influence within the group that his own ethical viewpoint is the valid one. He is acting as the Übermensch, so he can’t be faulted; as Nietzsche would say (or as I would paraphrase Nietzsche), “There is no right or wrong, just interpretations of actions.”

  Evolutionary Ethics – Shane is simply ensuring the survival of the fittest. By finding a way to survive the situation and outwit the circumstances that nature has thrown in his way, one cannot say he is wrong; he is allowing his genes to continue on (and by the time the show is over, he will probably have slept with at least half of the female survivors on earth).

Deontology – If Kant lived during the zombie crisis he would be the ultimate survivor; he would simply read his works to them and the monotony of his works would convince them he was a fellow zombie. Aside from this, however, Kant’s ethics simply wouldn’t work for most people. That’s because Kant’s ethics do not bend, but are rigid. Is it wrong to lie to the Nazis to save the life of a Jew? Most people would agree that it’s not only ethical to lie in this situation, it would be unethical to tell the truth. Kant would stamp his German foot down in a fit of rage and say that if it’s wrong to lie, it’s wrong to lie. So while Kant’s deontology would condemn Shane, it would inevitably lead to everyone dying because it wouldn’t allow for a change in conditions (in fact, Hershel could be viewed as a deontologist; that even in the zombie apocalypse he won’t kill the zombies because they’re “people”).

Theanthropic Ethics in the Zombie Apocalypse

Certainly the “theanthropic ethic” is a Christian ethic, which begets the question, “Is a Christian ethic really better to anything else presented?” After all, Christians seem to be jerks. The most famous and celebrated Christian holiday, Christmas, elicits images of a zombie apocalypse (or is it zombpocolypse?) every year during “Black Friday.” Atheists and non-Christians are obviously sometimes far more moral than their Christian counterparts – think about how American Christians tend to focus on homosexual marriage and abortion, but how hard it is to find them fighting poverty, slave labor overseas, climate change, or other social ills. In the zombie apocalypse one of the last places you’d run to is a church, out of fear of being turned away or finding out the church had allied with the zombies (zombies are the walking dead and if you’ve seen some Christian services then you’ve seen the walking dead).

Thankfully, in discussing Christian ethics or ethics in general we’re not dealing with what is, but with what ought to be, or the justification behind what ought to be. Though Christian ethics is more than an ideal, it is best to say that we’re dealing with the ideal and not the real. We’re not dealing with the present state of affairs, but with what all Christians (and humans) should aim toward.

Christian ethics begins with virtue ethics, the teaching that humans were created to pursue happiness and must gain an inner disposition to achieve this happiness. This happiness isn’t meant in an epicurean way, that each one pursues pleasure, but instead that in finding “happiness” one will have found the ultimate good. Basically, it’s vague, which has been a plague for virtue ethics since Socrates began to toy around with the idea. While virtue ethicists would like to treat this happiness as the ultimate good, when asked to define the happiness you’re going to get a lot of absolute answers (meaning none of them are absolute).

We’ll put aside the issue of happiness for now, except to say that happiness cannot deal with temporal happiness or material items for happiness. After all, how could we obtain happiness in a zombie apocalypse? At that point, happiness becomes hard to find in the situations of life, leading us to conclude that life isn’t worth living unless there is an ultimate happiness we’re heading towards.

Putting the issue of happiness aside (for now) we can look to exactly what virtue teaches us. Aristotle brought up a lot about the habits of virtue – we come to know what the right thing is, or what the good is, and then make a habit of acting towards it. At first we have to force ourselves to act good, but eventually it just becomes a natural thing we do without even thinking about. We think of how we raise children; we teach them to open doors for the elderly and at first they have to make a conscious decision to do so, but as they get older and get used to doing it, it simply becomes a habit, something they naturally do. Thus, they become “naturally” good.

Essentially, virtue teaches that we are to change our inner disposition so that we’re consistently choosing to do the right thing regardless of the situation. Rather than setting up rules – like deontology – we ‘organically’ pursue the good so that we will act different in certain circumstances, yet remain good. When we see a zombie, we’ll recognize that it’s okay to kill it in self-defense (unlike Hershel), but we’ll realize it’s wrong to kill an innocent to save our own lives (unlike Shane).

One doesn’t have to be a Christian to accept the virtues either, especially considering that virtue theory really arises from a Socratic-Platonic-Aristotelian base. Even Thomistic Virtue is better seen as Ibn Sina’s (Avicenna) virtue theory, which is based on Aristotle. The four cardinal virtues – justice, courage, prudence, and temperance – make us better humans, something you don’t have to be a Christian to recognize. As fallen humans we tend to be beasts, we tend to be zombies without being actual zombies; we become mindless drones who lose control of our brains and walk around devouring the minds of the living, the thinkers, to satisfy our sinful desires (don’t believe me? Look at the political process in America). Virtue fixes this, virtue makes us more than a zombie and restores our humanity.

If virtue can be said to make us human, then theosis is what makes us divine. It’s hard to give a definition to theosis not because it hasn’t been defined, but because in our modern times when we face pantheism and the “New Age” movement, the idea that we become “a god” inherently sets off the heresy alarm. But it should be noted that this teaching has been around since the beginning; we’ve just abandoned it in the West.

Essentially, theosis is the process that makes us like God in all things except essence and being and all of this is accomplished through grace. We don’t become “gods” in the Mormon sense where we get our own planets, nor do we become one with God in the Hindu sense, where God is just a type of Brahma that we unify with. We still remain distinct from God, yet unified to Him through grace. This is best represented in the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and love.

Paul teaches that faith, hope, and love drive the Christian ethic, but love is at its foundation. I would contend that what Paul says is almost a commentary on Christ’s teaching of the two greatest commandments; we are to love the Lord God with all our hearts, minds, and souls (our entire being), and the second is like it, to love our neighbors as ourselves. In short, the two greatest commandments summarize the theanthropic life, and Paul is merely adding commentary on what that means. Whereas virtue makes us better humans by living in a good fashion, theosis makes humans Divine by teaching them to live in love, to live in a God-fashion. In other words, happiness is God, the purpose of life is God.

Thus, humans are called to love God and to love God’s image (humans), and this is true happiness. This is why Jesus says the second greatest commandment is like the first, because if we love God then we must love those who have His image. This would mean that to destroy the image of God would display a lack of love towards God Himself. The perfect verse that demonstrates this is one I wrote about a while ago, Proverbs 14:31. As I stated in that post, depending which translation one reads, it’ll either say that if one loves God, one will help the poor, or that if one helps the poor, one then loves God. This is a case where though the two readings are different, both are true if we take them in light of the two greatest commandments; if we love God, we will love humans, and if we love humans, we will love God.

Now of course there are times where destroying the image of God becomes a tragic necessity. In the case of self-defense, the case of a just war (and they do exist), or other similar situations justifies killing. No one is saying it is morally good to kill in those situations, merely that it does become necessary. What is always wrong and never justified, however, is the intentional murder of innocent humans to save the life of others.

So what about Shane? Does the theanthropic life teach us anything about Shane’s actions?

First, did Shane kill an innocent man? After all, it was because of Otis that Carl was in that predicament. It was Otis’ carelessness that caused the entire situation to come about. At the same time, Otis did not intentionally shoot Carl. If it happened in a civilized society (you know, one that didn’t have zombies) then Otis would be held for an involuntary act. Even our legal system sees a difference between voluntary acts of aggression and involuntary acts. Thus, while Otis was responsible for the situation, morally he was innocent because he did not intentionally cause Carl’s pain. Furthermore, in the zombie apocalypse you simply don’t expect a child to be standing on the other side of a deer.  In killing Otis, Shane took the life of an innocent man.

Second, the motivation for killing Otis wasn’t entirely pure. The primary motivation for Shane’s action was to save Carl, of that there is no doubt. In fact, Shane even told Otis to continue on without him and offered himself up as a sacrifice. Otis, however, refused to leave Shane behind, which of course ran the risk of both Otis and Shane dying. At the same time, how was Shane showing love to his neighbor by sacrificing Otis?

At the end of the day, Shane put his life ahead of another’s life. Rather than forcing Otis to move ahead or by fighting on against his impending death. He wanted to make sure he was around to make advances on Carl’s mom (the wife of Rick, who’s still alive, but there’s some very awkward backstory there) and protect Carl as well. When he got back he acted as the hero, reminding everyone that he saved Carl’s life.

No mater how you look at it, from the theanthropic view it’s better to suffer an evil than to cause an evil. It’s better to be tortured and murdered rather than be the torturer and murderer. It’s better to be eaten by the zombie than to be the zombie (let’s face it, either way that’s just a bad situation). For Shane, it would be better to be attacked by zombies and lose his life than to escape the zombies but lose his soul.

Going back to virtue, if doing the right thing becomes a habit, then it’s true that choosing to do the wrong thing is also a habit (or habit forming). One doesn’t wake up one day and decide that it’s okay to kill innocent humans to save other people; that comes through years of choosing to do the wrong thing or to act immorally. This is even prevalent from the first season where Shane is shown making advances on Rick’s wife just a few weeks after Rick was thought to be dead (told you there was an awkward backstory). It simply goes to show that Shane has already formed a habit of making the wrong choices before killing Otis.

Under virtue, one would say that Shane should have chosen the good and formed the habit of choosing the good. Had he, perhaps he could have been creative enough to choose the good in the situation and still survive. At the very least, even if he lost his life, he would have gained his soul.

More importantly, however, is how Shane’s actions look in the theanthropic life. Shane’s actions were the antithesis of loving. Had he sacrificed himself then he would have proven to be loving (as love is a sacrifice). The theanthropic life, then, is one of constant sacrifice, or at a minimum it’s not sacrificing others to achieve your goal. It’s treating people as people (love your neighbor) rather than means to an end or zombie bait.

On a more serious note within this hypothetical, in many ways humans in their present state are far worse than they are as zombies. After all, no one chooses to be a zombie. Once a zombie, no one chooses to eat the living, that’s just a part of its nature. Humans, on the other hand, choose to be beastly to one another. A zombie eats a human and goes on, not knowing what it has done; a business owner uses slave labor in Africa to bring over cheaper chocolate, but does so willfully. Which one is the real monster? Which one should we truly fear, the one who commits evil acts by nature or the one who chooses evil though he doesn’t have to?

Along those same lines, it is into this morally reprehensible world that God spoke to bring light, to show people that they were called to be more than what they are. God sacrificially created the world and then sacrificially gave it a way to live as He lives (via the Incarnation). That is the foundation of theanthropic ethics.

In the end, if we live in the ethics of love (theanthropic ethics) then we can never sacrifice an innocent to save another, or to save our own lives. We must always put the other before us. While it’s fun to contemplate how that looks in a zombie apocalypse, consider it in the real world as well. It’s wrong for the business owner to put himself before his employees. It’s wrong for the father to put his needs before those of his family. It’s wrong to elevate ourselves and to use other people as a means rather than as ends. Theanthropic ethics means we are self-sacrificial, even if it costs us our lives.

Some months ago I wrote a series of posts critiquing the Reformed doctrine of total depravity.  As a result, I was promptly accused, by some readers, of being a Pelagian.  It was then that I realized that I had made a rather notable mistake: I had failed to expound upon what I believed with regards to sin, the human condition, and man’s salvation.  Having failed to explain what I believe, some readers misunderstood my critiques of total depravity and jumped to some rather extreme conclusions about my theology.

In consequence, I have decided to write this post in an effort to further clarify my position.  This essay reflects, however poorly, what I believe about the depravity of man, the  nature of sin and evil, and, in an extremely limited way, salvation.  I will not discuss, in any detail, my theory of the atonement, justification, or sanctification; rather, I will simply emphasize man’s utter dependence upon God for life and his unavoidable dependency upon God’s grace and mercy to be saved.

I will begin by making several metaphysical observations.  First of all, it’s important to understand that everything that God has made is good and no matter how twisted or broken it becomes, it will never cease to maintain some vestige of its original goodness (Gen. 1:31).  St. Augustine understood this fundamental point of ontology and communicated it very clearly:

“All things that exist, therefore, seeing that the Creator of them all is supremely good, are themselves good.  But because they are not, like their Creator, supremely and unchangeably good, their good may be diminished and increased.  But for good to be diminished is an evil, although, however much it may be diminished, it is necessary if the being is to continue, that some good should remain to constitute the being.  For however small or of whatever kind of being it may be, the good which makes it a being cannot be destroyed without destroying the being itself.”

Please note that St. Augustine is speaking of the good in an ontological sense and not in an ethical sense.  Also note that, for him, evil does not  have a substantial existence, in and of itself, but only exists in the form of a degradation of or corruption of something which is substantial good.  Thus, when I say that human beings are by nature good I’m not claiming that they are without sin (i.e. ethically good) but that they are made in the image and likeness of God and, hence, in the image of Goodness and Perfection Himself.  Therefore, no matter how much sin twists and degrades us, we never stop being human–for if the image of God was completely eradicated the good which sustains our being would have been destroyed and we would cease to exist.

St. John of Damascus is also extremely helpful in clarifying this point:

“. . . evil is no more than a negation of good and a lapse from what is natural to what is unnatural, for there is nothing that is naturally evil.  Now, as they are made, all things that God made were very good.  So, if they remain as they were created, then they are very good.  But, if they freely withdraw from the natural and pass to the unnatural, then they become evil.  All things, then, by nature serve and obey the Creator.  So, whenever any creature freely rebels and becomes disobedient to Him who made him, he has brought the evil upon himself.  For evil is not some sort of substance, nor yet a property of a substance, but an accident, that is to say, a deviation from the natural into the unnatural, which is just what sin is.”

It’s clear, therefore, that sin is a corruption of what is substantially good and is fundamentally an ethical problem rooted in the will of man.  With his capacity of self-determination, man choses to act in a way which is contrary to his nature, to turn himself away from the Good, and thus, to subject himself to futility.  Hence, to speak of man being depraved, is to speak in terms of ethics and not in terms of ontology.  Nevertheless, it is also clear that our sin, our depravity has profound ontological consequences.  These truths are evident in Psalm 53:

“The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” They are corrupt, doing abominable iniquity, there is none that does good.  God looks down from heaven, upon the sons of man, to see if there are any that are wise, who seek after God.  They have all fallen away; they are all alike depraved; there is none that does good, no, not even one.”  (Psalm 53:1-3)

Further down the Psalmist continues:

“There they [those who have rejected God] are, in great terror, in terror such as has not been!  For God will scatter the bones of the ungodly; they will be put to shame, for God has rejected them” (Psalm 53: 5).

Having rejected God in their hearts (which is clearly an act of the will) mans behavior becomes corrupt and he chooses to live an unethical life.  His sinful choices, as the Psalmist makes clear, lead to his dissolution and destruction.  This point is also made by St. Paul in no uncertain terms, who proclaimed that:  “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23).  Therefore, from a Biblical perspective, the depravity of man is an ethical problem with profound ontological consequences (1).

Furthermore, according to Psalm 53, this ethical problem is pervasive and universal; that is to say, every human being chooses, of his own free will, to turn away from God in order to serve his own self-interest; to worship the Creation rather than the Creator (this idea is more fully developed by St. Paul in Romans 1).

So, although man is by nature good, being made in the image of God, he suffers from the consequences of Adam’s sin:  namely, he is born outside the garden and, hence, estranged from God, he is subject to physical corruption and bodily death, he is tempted and manipulated by evil spirits, and constantly suffering from and profoundly affected by the sinful choices of others.  Consequentially, this Fallen environment, this twisted and broken world system, drives man to make unethical choices and so, he also suffers from the consequences of his own personal sin.

The Bible teaches that there is only One who can save us from this horrible mess–Jesus Christ.  For man, on his own, cannot save himself; he is utterly incapable of rescuing himself from this dilemma.  Let me repeat this lest I be accused, once more, of being a Pelagian: man, on his own, cannot save himself; he is utterly incapable of rescuing himself from this dilemma.  Salvation is an act of God who lavishes us with his love and grace. (2)  St. Paul, speaking to the Christians in Ephesus, states:

“and you he made alive, when you were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirt that is now at work in the sons of disobedience.  Among these we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of the body and mind, and so we were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.  But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with him, and made us sit with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus . . . for by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:1-8).

In summary, man is by nature good, being made in the image of God; thus, he is not totally depraved.  However, man is born into a broken and corrupted world, subject to the consequences of Adam’s sin, influenced by the sins of his forefathers and by the, “prince of the power of the air,” and, hence, he inevitably chooses to sin (i.e. to act in a manner which is contrary to his own nature).  In this way, in an ethical sense, man is radically depraved.  Trapped in a dying world and being guilty of personal sin, man is unable to do anything, on his own, to save himself.  He needs Jesus to pull him out of the mire, to give him life, and to fully restore the image and likeness of God which has been soiled by his sin and the sin of others.

(1) On this point, it should be noted, Reformed theology teaches the exact opposite of what we have just outlined; namely, it teaches that man has a serious ontological problem (being totally depraved or having a sin nature) with profound ethical consequences.  This notion, aside from being unbiblical, is also incoherent (see my previous writings on total depravity).

(2) This statement does not negate man’s responsibility or choice in the matter; nor does it deny he has free will.  Man must chose to participate in God’s work to save and restore Creation, he must chose to believe in Jesus; nevertheless, salvation is the work of God in man.

Would Christ go to the Republican National Convention? Would He partake in the march against homosexual marriage? Would Jesus really Occupy Wall Street? Would He mock the Republican candidates, or call Obama a Nazi? If we easily see Christ doing any of these things, we must ask ourselves if we are worshiping a Christ of our own invention; if we cannot see Christ doing these things, we must ask why we choose to do so in His stead.

God is omnipotent and powerful, there is no denying that; but out of His love to us He is weak. It is in this weakness that He is ultimately, eternally, and infinitely strong. Love makes one weak because by its very nature it requires sacrifice and self-giving. In the mere act of creation we see God’s weakness displaying His strength. With the mere mention of creation, He brings it about, yet the act itself is one of sacrifice. Here we see His strength in creation, but His weakness in sacrifice.

On the cross we see the strength of God crushing sin of death, but this strength is only seen due to the weakness of His love, His willingness to die on our behalf that He might remove death from our nature.

I am not trying to say that God is not omnipotent – far from it – but instead drawing light to the fact that within the bounds of love the world could turn upside down; what is strong could be weak and what is weak could be strong. In a strong world, in the world of the Übermensch (Nietzsche’s “Superman”), the one who is able to enforce his will on others is the strong one. In a weak world, the one Christ displayed to us, the greater the servant, the more power he has. This is quite the paradox, that the weaker we act, the stronger we really are. Such is the mystery of God’s love.

Where does this leave us Christians in the 21^st century? Should we continue to make power plays for political offices? Should we continue to push “our guy” to take charge of the nation? Should we pray for the day that we control the schools, the government, and make this a “Christian nation” once again (or for the first time)? Is this really what the strengthening weakness of love looks like?

Perhaps we as Christians need to reconsider what it is to have strength. Perhaps we need to realize that strength is found in weakness. Hope is not found in acquiring a political goal, but in the self-emptying act of service towards those who cannot repay us.

The love of God is weak enough to cause God to stoop down to become a man. It is weak enough to grab that girl who suffers from life. It is weak enough to cause our all-powerful God to serve humans (for what is love if not service?). The love of God is weak enough to look at the young man intent on a life of self-destruction and long for the young man to turn around to his original purpose, which is Christ. The love of God is weak enough to wander through the hospital wards soothing the broken bodies, sacrificing for the sick, and giving grace to those who can no longer continue.

The love of God is weak enough to take the almighty Eternal and place Him within the womb of the Theotokos. The love of God is weak enough to cause the Eternal to walk where we walk, to experience the pain that numerous victims worldwide have experienced. The love of God is weak enough to cause Christ to give His life that we might have life. But the love of God is strong enough to ensure that all of this has an actual, eternal effect.

The love of God is strong enough to grab the girl who suffers from life and give her a new life. It is strong enough to draw humans to love God as well and serve Him (for what is love if not service?). The love of God is strong enough to look at the vapid young man and convict him of his ways; it is strong enough to turn the young man from death to life. The love of God is strong enough to wander through hospital wards proclaiming that He is the ultimate healer, that in His love all will be made whole someday.

The love of God is strong enough to shape and save our nature through His glorious Incarnation.  The love of God is strong enough to cause us to walk where the Eternal has walked and is walking. The love of God is strong enough to cause Christ to raise from the dead that we might have life.

If God’s love displays His eternal strength through weakness, then what should this say of us mere Christians? Shall we continue to pursue the power on display in the world? Certainly there is nothing wrong with standing up for justice in the public square, but should this be our primary vehicle for displaying God’s love?

Christ came down as a king, but never claimed the seat of Rome. He came down as a ruler, but to a kingdom without a border. Christ came down as the Lawgiver, yet made no declarations or decrees for the nations to follow. If we become a people who seek after kingships, after controlling borders, after laws then we have forgotten what Christ accomplished.

The millions of humans who are abducted into slavery every day don’t need another Christian song or another tract; they desperately need the love of God to rescue them from their plight and restore their humanity. The millions of homeless people don’t need another sermon on how they’re worthless or how trusting in God will make things better; they need food, they need shelter, they need help (even if they’re crazy, this doesn’t make them not human; all are fallen from God, so all are crazy in degrees, the man who mumbles to himself is only slightly crazier than you). Those who are hurting, lost, in despair, wondering about the next paycheck, suffering from abuse, don’t need another law, another rally, another city to occupy, another mega-church, another politician to save us all; they need only Christ, they need His love, they need His followers to cease seeking after the worldly idea of power and instead become weak that they might truly become strong.

In short, the world doesn’t need more Christians attempting to live up to the standards of their culture; it needs more Christians attempting to live up to the standards of Christ. The world needs people who display their strength in their weakness, and this is only possible through Divine love.

“The problem I have here is not what ought to succeed mankind in the sequence of species ( — the human being is a conclusion — ):  but what type of human being one ought to breed, ought to will, as more valuable, more worthy of life, more certain of the future.

           This more valuable type has existed often enough already:  but as a lucky accident, as an exception, never as willed.  He has rather been the most feared, he has hitherto been virtually the thing to be feared — and out of fear the reverse type has been willed, bred, achieved:  the domestic animal, the herd animal, the sick animal man — the Christian . . .”

1

 If the world we live in is, as Nietzsche asserts, one in which immaterial substances, or ideas, or forms, or gods do not exist, then it is utterly preposterous to believe that the,  “human being is a conclusion.”  On the contrary, it is painfully obvious that the physical world is as Heraclitus observed long ago: constantly in a state of flux — constantly evolving.  Within a matter of years every molecule within your body will be replaced; physically speaking, you will be an entirely different person.  Everything changes; nothing stays the same; the species is forever evolving.  On naturalism, there is nothing to ground your identity in and absolutely no good reason to believe that the evolution of human beings has come to a close.  In fact, there is absolutely no good reason to believe that human beings, as we know them, will always exist.

Modern naturalists have come to embrace this view with great enthusiasm.  As Gregory Stock notes with great excitement:  “we know that Homo Sapiens is not the final word in primate evolution, but few have yet grasped that we are on the cusp of profound biological change, poised to transcend our current form and character on a journey to destinations of new imagination” — It is a hallmark of current naturalistic thinking to believe that mans ever increasing power over nature, thanks to advances in science and technology, has brought about profound liberation – total freedom to control our destiny; to shape man into whatever image seems most desirable.

Therefore, Nietzsche’s attempt at redefining the ideal man, under the assumption that man, “is a conclusion”, is incredibly limited in scope when compared to the aspirations of contemporary naturalists.  Nevertheless, like contemporary naturalists, it is equally incoherent . . .

2

It should be clear now, that if we accept the naturalistic framework, it is impossible to say objectively, “what type of human being one ought to breed, ought to will, as more valuable, more worthy of life.”  Without a transcendent reference point, there simply is no concrete answer to this question.  In point of fact, there is no ought at all; there is simply what you think is the ideal man or what society believes is the ideal man.  At the end of the day, those with the strongest will to power will determine what the ideal man is—and this is nothing more than tyranny.  Consequentially, Nietzsche’s discussion about the ideal man (as if such a thing actually existed within the naturalistic worldview) seems rather disingenuous; or, at least, naïvely optimistic.

Considering the total fluidity of reality and the complete absence of absolute universal truths entailed by naturalism it is surprising, to me, that Nietzsche actually believes in his ideal man.  It is also surprising, to me, that he believes his ideal man actually exercises a certain amount of freedom—in contrast to the wretched domesticated animal.  At the end of the day, even Nietzsche’s ideal man is completely subject to the mindless and impersonal laws of nature which, if we accept naturalism, dictate his every thought and action.  Not even the super man can escape the laws of physics or transcend the controlling influence of his biochemistry.

3

In the final analysis, Nietzsche’s diatribe only communicates two things—his subjective opinion of what the ideal man is and his personal distain for Christians.  Perhaps, thirdly, it communicates the dissonance in his own thought—the inconsistent ramblings of a man bent on refuting objective values while simultaneously arguing for that which he deems most valuable.  At the end of the day, in order to fully embrace Nietzsche’s worldview, we must abandon the notion that there is an ideal human being and accept the fact that ideals are simply subjective opinions generated within the human brain through the brute physical processes of nature.  We must be willing to embrace the fact that human beings do not have a nature and that we simply reflect one fleeting moment in a constantly evolving reality.  We must also accept, in spite of the claims of contemporary naturalists, that mankind has absolutely no control over his destiny.

4

Freedom is, arguably, the chief aim of naturalism: freedom from a controlling omnipotent God, freedom from outmoded and irrational religious dogmas, freedom from puritanical ethical systems, freedom to redefine the human race and guide the course of evolution . . .

Sadly, this supposed freedom is completely illusory.  Consider these two points: (1) human beings are a part of nature, and hence, themselves locked in the endless, and fundamentally, meaningless, cycle of material causes and effects, and (2) those human beings currently in existence will ultimately decide the fate of those human beings (or other humanoid species) in the future.

Regarding the first point, although human beings seem to be gaining more knowledge of and, hence, better control over nature, human beings are not transcendent from nature.  Therefore, human beings are just as much subject to the laws of physics and chemistry which guide the rest of the universe.  Accordingly, on naturalism, human decisions, in fact, our very thoughts and emotions can be explained in terms of purely physical processes.  In other words, our very thoughts and actions are exclusively determined by the mindless physical laws of nature.  Under such circumstances, any freedom we imagine having over our destiny is truly delusional–in fact, the very notion of freedom, itself, was brought about by an unbroken chain of physical causes and effects completely out of our control.

We must also face the fact that all succeeding generations will be subject to the biological and psychological manipulations enacted by those scientists, academics, and politicians who currently control the new eugenics project.  In fact, the leaders of every generation will exercise total control over the genetic and psychological outcome of the next.  In essence, our species (or any new species) will forever be enslaved to the choices of those in the past.  A similar formulation of this argument can be found in C. S. Lewis’s book The Abolition of Man. 

In summary: there is no real freedom under the naturalistic framework–just enslavement:  enslavement to the blind, impersonal, unbroken laws of nature, and enslavement to those who exercise greater power over the weak (and even over those who do not yet exist).

5

True freedom can only be found in Christ because it is only in Christ that we understand, objectively, who we are and what it means to live.  For it is only if we have a transcendent reference point that we can say, definitively, that there is an ideal man, and in fact, an ideal way to live.  Jesus is our transcendent reference point—“the way, and the truth, and the life”–and, therefore, truly the ideal man.  Ironically, it is only the domesticated animal who can know, objectively, “what type of human being one ought to breed, ought to will, as more valuable, more worthy of life, more certain of the future.”

This is part three of a series; to read the rest of the series click here.

This is part two of a new series–to read the introduction click here.

“What is good? — All that heightens the feeling of power, the will to power, power itself in man.
What is bad? — All that proceeds from weakness.
What is happiness? — The feeling that power increases — that a resistance is overcome.
Not contentment, but more power; not peace at all, but war; not virtue, but proficiency (virtue in the Renaissance style, virtu, virtue free of moralic acid).
The weak and ill-constituted shall perish:  first principle of our philanthropy.  And one shall help them to do so.
What is more harmful than any vice? — Active sympathy for the ill-constituted and weak — Christianity . . .”

It’s important to remember that any definition of the good or of happiness proceeding from a naturalistic framework, such as Nietzsche’s, is completely arbitrary and, if I dare say, totally farcical — that is to say, it is a rather deceptive act in which moralistic language is ascribed to fundamentally neutral, amoral, categories.  So, when Nietzsche speaks about the good as being, “the will to power, power itself in man,” it’s important to remember that he is not outlining a system of morality; rather, he is simply describing a brute process of nature using moralistic terminology.

Any student of Biology can tell you that life is a power struggle — those organisms with the strongest will to survive and the power to do so will inevitably outlast other organisms with a weaker constitution.  In evolutionary terms, this is commonly described as the survival of the fittest.  Consequentially, a brute physical process, such as this, can hardly be described as “the good” in any objective moral sense on naturalism.  For this would imply teleology within nature — which is precisely the thing that a naturalistic view of reality denies.  Hence, to assign the, “feeling of power, the will to power, power itself in man,” or, “all that proceeds from weakness,” the terms “good” or “bad” says absolutely nothing about the true goodness or badness of such things — it is merely to state a brute fact about reality.

According to naturalism, values are completely dependent upon the observer and therefore totally subjective.  In other words, they have very little to do with reality and everything to do with one’s personal opinions or feelings.  What we are left with, under this  scheme, are merely objects and events.  How we interpret the objects and events we find in nature is purely a matter of personal taste.  This mindset explains  why we often hear the term “meaning-making” used to describe values.  What this heart warming little term is actually communicating is that nature, in and of itself, has no intrinsic meaning; you, the observer, must make meaning.

The reason I’ve gone through great pains to express the above point is that many, these days, mistakenly believe it is possible to have objective morality within the naturalistic framework.  This belief, however, is entirely incompatible with the naturalistic worldview.  For there is nothing, objective, to ground values in under this framework–and this is something that Nietzsche understood all too well.  This is precisely why he speaks of the desire for power and the will to power–because this is, essentially, what life boils down to in a world without God and without objective  moral standards or purpose.  So, do not be confused by Nietzsche’s use of the terms “good” or “bad” and suppose that he is speaking of morality; on the contrary, what he is proposing is the complete antithesis of morality.  He is proposing that those who believe God to be dead embrace the implications of this belief and recognize what life truly is:  a cold, and fundamentally meaningless, struggle for power; the brutal battle for survival.

It is no wonder that Nietzsche viewed Christianity with such contempt; for Christianity stands in complete contrast to this view of reality.  It teaches that there is an overarching meaning and purpose to reality and that values are grounded in the source of existence Himself.  It asserts that man is made in the very image and likeness of the source of his existence and is, therefore, intrinsically valuable and important.  It further insists that, as creatures made in the image of their Creator, man is accountable to Him and obligated to care for all the things which He has made–even the lowly.  Hence, Psalm 41 implores us to, “consider the poor,” and Jesus says, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it for me” (Matt. 25:40).

As  you can see, the Christians attitude towards the “ill-constituted and weak” and his mindset that our existence is rooted in notions like love, service, and self-sacrifice, stands in total contrast to the naturalistic worldview which explains human existence in terms of a desire for and will to power.  Under the naturalistic view such care for the weak is truly absurd: for, “the weak and ill-constituted shall perish:  first principle of our philanthropy.  And one shall help them to do so.”  This is simply a brute fact about reality that one must accept, or else, continue to live in a delusional state and be subject to the control and power of those few human beings who do accept it.

Now, you must ask yourself, at this moment, what view of reality you are prepared to accept.  If you truly believe that “God is dead” and that the physical world is all there is then you must be willing to embrace Nietzsche’s assertions with all of your being–for this is the only honest position to take.  However, if Nietzsche makes you uncomfortable, if you sense that love must somehow enter the picture, that the acquisition of power is somehow shallow and ultimately meaningless, that there is intrinsic value to all human beings–and, in fact, in every organism–that somehow morality must be objective and grounded in something, and that somehow you were made for a purpose, then you must come to terms with the fact that God may not be as dead as you had originally thought.

In the forward to his attack on Christianity, The Anti-Christ, Fredrick Nietzsche wrote the following:

“This book belongs to the very few.  Perhaps none of them is even living yet.  Possibly they are the readers who understand my Zarathustra: how could I confound myself with those for whom there are ears listening today? — Only the day after tomorrow belongs to me.  Some are born posthumously.

The conditions under which one understands me and then necessarily understands — I know them all too well.  One must be honest in intellectual matters to the point of harshness to so much as endure my seriousness, my passion.  One must be accustomed to living on mountains — to seeing the wretched ephemeral chatter of politics and national egoism beneath one.  One must have become indifferent, one must never ask whether truth is useful or fatality . . . . Strength which prefers questions for which no one today is sufficiently daring; courage for the forbidden; predestination for the labyrinth.  An experience out of seven solitudes.  New ears for new music.  New eyes for the most distant things.  A new conscience for truths which have hitherto remained dumb.  And the will to economy in the grand style:  to keeping one’s energy, one’s enthusiasm in bounds . . . . Reverence for oneself; love for oneself; unconditional freedom with respect to oneself . . .

Very well!  These alone are my readers, my rightful readers, my predestined readers:  what do the rest matter? — The rest are merely mankind. — One must be superior to mankind in force, in loftiness of soul — in contempt . . .”

In the coming months, I, a lowly pastor, will attempt to scale the lofty mountaintops of Nietzsche’s thought; to brave the questions, “for which no one today is sufficiently daring,” to find the courage to ponder that which is forbidden.  I invite you to walk with me as I wrestle with the philosophical ravings of the “Anti-Christ” — perhaps, we will discover that we, indeed, are his “rightful” readers; or, perhaps, we will discover something altogether unexpected: a way out of the labyrinth . . .

Click here to read part two.

Perry pointed out the problem of Christianity – particularly traditional, conservative Christians – missing the entire point of the Gospel. He didn’t do this by preaching on us missing the point, nor did he imply it in anything he said. Rather, he, along with those who supported the rally, demonstrated what is wrong with American Christianity.

There’s this idea that the problem with the moral fabric of America begins in the political realm and thus American Christians must take the political sphere back. Some, such as myself, would argue that Christians have never held an exclusive grip on the American political process, but certain historical revisionists would counter that claim. Either way, the claim is that in order to save America now, we must take back Congress, the Courts, and the White House.

Yet, if we contrast such ideals to the original Church or to Christ, we’re hard-pressed to see such theocratic ambitions in our ancestors. In fact, we see Christians almost avoid politics all together until Constantine.[1] Christ was very adamant not to pursue political endeavors and His followers tended to follow suit.

What the early church focused on was helping the poor, the oppressed, and the outcast of society. They made personal appeals to governors to cease persecution, reached out to the rich, and helped those stuck in the slums. There were no political movements that sought to overturn the Roman government and make it a “Christian Empire.” Instead, Christians appealed to people, not institutions. They sought to make a difference in the lives of their neighbors, or to leave their hometowns and make neighbors elsewhere, brining the love of Christ with them.

How far we have come in 2,000 years. Do we need a prayer rally to help deliver the American government into the hands of Christians? Or would it be better if individual Christians fell upon their knees in prayer and delivered themselves to Christ? Is it we who have it right and are fighting against the world? Or is it that only Christ has it right and we need to seek Him out?

America, even the world, doesn’t need another rally, another prayer card, another program, or another crusade in order to save it. It needs individuals who are willing to live the love of Christ. It needs Christians who love Christ more than their political ambitions. Dare I say, it needs Christians who love Christ more than they love their country, so that paradoxically by loving Christ more than their country, they may love their country all the more.

It is after this experience that I came across an article by John MacArthur that all but condemns Christians who drink alcohol, especially those who do so in order to “fit in” within the culture. His argument is that people who get tattoos, drink beer, and smoke cigars all in the name of “reaching out” are abandoning their Christian identity in order to reach people. He argues,

This tendency to emblazon oneself with symbols of carnal indulgence as if they were valid badges of spiritual identity is one of the more troubling aspects of the YRR movement’s trademark restlessness. It is wrong-headed, carnal, and immature to imagine that bad-boy behavior makes good missional strategy. The image of beer-drinking Bohemianism does nothing to advance the cause of Christ’s kingdom.

Now, it may shock some people, but I partially agree with MacArthur’s point; when we drink, smoke, get a tattoo, or do whatever in order to appear “cool” so as to advance the Kingdom, we’re using a marketing strategy and not relying on the Holy Spirit. In other words, our actions are empty, purposeless, and will generally only attract Christians who are dejected with the current culture. There’s generally no real conversion.

But what MacArthur ignores in his critique, and I would argue that many others are guilty of this, is that it’s equally dangerous when Christians retreat into a sub-culture with man-made rules on what it means to be holy. While churches that have “beer night” in order to have outreach may not advance the Kingdom, neither do preachers who rant against the dangers of alcohol or refuse to sit in the bar area at a local restaurant. MacArthur quotes from Matthew 11:19 where the Pharisees call Jesus a friend of “tax collectors and prostitutes.” They call Him a drunkard and a glutton because those are the types of people He was hanging around. While we can say that Jesus didn’t engage in getting drunk or in prostitution (though certainly He had a drink of wine – after all, He was a practicing Jew), He didn’t have a problem being around such people and befriending such people.

The people who are the target of MacArthur’s scorn and MacArthur himself misses out the fact that if you desire to reach people, you must live the essence of the Gospel. That essence is self-sacrificial, unconditional love. The Greek word, or at least the concept, is famously known as agape. We don’t need to submit to what’s “cool” in the culture in order to show people Christ, but neither do we need to create a sub-culture to shelter ourselves from the influences of the world. Rather, we should have no problem being amongst “sinners” just as Christ had no problem with it. Furthermore, we should have the grace and wisdom to know what we can engage in and what we cannot engage in. We should know our own personal limits.

Finally, in living a life of agape, we should never judge other Christians who may have a glass of wine before bed or go out and get a beer with friends. So long as such a person is not getting drunk or an alcoholic, who are we to judge? Where in Scripture can we say that such an action is wrong? Just as it’s wrong for Christians to use alcohol as an outreach tool, so too is MacArthur wrong for judging any and all Christians who drink alcohol. When we create the idea that drinking is wrong, we inherently limit who we’ll reach out to, to the point we become ridiculous and won’t even sit anywhere close to a bar. How does that “further the Kingdom of God?”

If you haven’t heard already, Rebecca Black is “about to blow up” and she wants everybody to know about it.  All of you “haters” out there who said, “see you later,” are, in fact, total losers and she wants you to bemoan the fact that she is doing things you never dreamed of.  What’s the secret to her success?  As she explains it: she just “trusted herself” and forgot everyone else, and, as a result, she is now having her moment . . .

The egotistical lyrics of overnight sensation Rebecca Black’s new song, My Moment, are simply a reflection of the vanity of Western culture and the yearnings of a superficial generation.  Now, more than ever, our youth desire to have “their moment”–to be famous, to be glamorous, to be sexy, to be the locus of everyone’s attention–and they will stop at nothing until they do.   In fact, today’s youth feel that their life is somehow incomplete or unimportant without some sort of material or “social” success.

This self-centered mindset is a direct outgrowth of our tendency to teach children that maintaining a high level of self-esteem is the primary goal of life.  Unsurprisingly, our children now believe that they are, in fact, the center of the universe and will stop at nothing to attain life experiences which reinforce this. Our obsession with self-esteem, coupled with the rampant materialism pervasive in our culture, has given rise to a generation of narcissistic hedonists whose sole purpose in life is to have “their moment.”  “Surely I will be happy with myself,” it is believed, “ if I had a voice like her or a sexy body like him or an expensive new car or money or power or success . . . if I could just have my moment!”

The question is, what happens if you never have “your moment?”  What happens if you never become the next American Idol, or make music videos, or attend parties with famous celebrities?  Do these things really have anything substantial to do with your value or worth as a person?

What if Rebecca Black had never been invited to perform her song Friday on the Today Show?  What if her music video had been deleted from youtube?  What if she never had “her moment?”  Would she then have no value or worth as a person?  Would she have no purpose or shot at true happiness?  Would the “haters” have won?  It is when we ask these questions that we begin to see the utter futility in attaching all of our value and worth to finite things.

The fact of the matter is, the things of this world are transitory; they do not last forever.  Fame is fleeting, beauty eventually fades, pleasure lasts only for a season, we grow old, we die . . . Besides, there are only a few of us who will ever experience a “moment” like Rebecca Black anyways–I am quite certain that I will never  know what it is like to dance in a music video or attend a celebrity ball.  Does this mean my life is empty?  Does this mean I have no value as a person?  Does this mean my existence is totally meaningless?

The answer, of course, is a resounding “No!”  Our value and worth, as human beings, is rooted in the fact that we are made in the image and likeness of God; and nothing in life will ever change this amazing fact about our nature.  No level of material success, or lack thereof, will ever add to or diminish the fact that we are all intrinsically valuable and unfathomably loved by our Creator.  No amount of fame or fortune could possibly outshine the deep, infinite, and self-sacrificing love demonstrated by our Creator who became incarnate for us and suffered and died for us.  No amount of power or fame or sex appeal will ever work as a substitute for the relationship with God that we all yearn for.

When all is said and done, the only “moment” that we truly need or which will bring us eternal satisfaction is the moment we recognize that we need Jesus.