Two afterthoughts:
A) "The city" of London and "Wall Street" - cities and walls. The locations most adversely affected by the financial crisis due to their adoption of earthly (selfish) laws based on greed, rather than following Nehemiah's example of instituting God's law (mercy) based on love.
B) The "Jubilee Movement" (made famous by Bono and LiveAid, and the Gleneagles G8 Summit along with the 'Make Poverty History' campaign) was criticised for playing into the hands of corrupt bureacrats and evil autocrats who would be forgiven (and by implication, rewarded), for decimating the economies of their countries. But according to the Jubilee idea, the reaction would be one of reciprocation rather than relapse.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Jubilee: Forgiveness, Reaping and Sowing, and Walls
The world economy is an a mess. This indisputable reality, most would argue, is the result of mismanagement of excessive debt, both on the part of creditor and debtor. An inordinately complex web of credit, equity, risk, and an incalculable cornucopia of other factors evolved (or devolved) into an unsustainable bubble. At the end of the chain, attempts to circumvent the basic reality of debt (that borrowed money must be repaid, and therefore the returns to any leveraged investment must outweigh the cumulative interest) by both borrowers and lenders, along with financial alchemy (the creation of sophisticated instruments purported to 'eliminate risk') were supported by sub-prime mortgages. Whether or not banks knew that people with no income would be unable to repay such loans (it has been revealed that many did), the incentive structure based on immediate returns and bonuses inevitably led to the proliferation of mortgage-backed securities. Although these securities were practically worthless (they were probably so risky that repayment was probably less likely than default, given the credit-card culture in consumerist society), by bundling them together with other obligations, their value was concealed (I would term this 'smuggling': compare it to similar methods of transporting drugs or weapons that bypass security checks). They were then sold off all around the world to private investors, sovereign wealth funds, and the like. A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.
Wealth seemed to be created at every stage: a borrower could own a house (with a price that was erroneously believed to rise invariably), a creditor could sell the debt, and the purchasers could count on future repayment. The missing link, of course, was the repayment. The price of the collateral (the mortgaged house) was the exact same asset that was purchased using the borrowed money. If this price of the asset were to fall, a slew of defaults would ensue, crashing the market, and thus destroying collateral. This is what Ben Bernanke has termed 'financial fragility'; I would call it 'building your house on sand'. Because of the entanglement of indebtedness, when this did occur it sparked a chain reaction that brought down the entire financial system, causing mass unemployment, bank failure, and even sovereign default. The ramifications are still being felt today, with the more 'developed' countries now in urgent need of rescue.
What does the Bible say about debt? The Old Testament is replete with directives for handling debt. One of these is found in Leviticus 25, which sanctions a Jubilee Year, calculated as “seven Sabbaths of years” - that is, every 49 years. All transactions, values, and debts are firmly based around this year, at which point “everybody is to return to his property” and all debts are to be forgiven. To me, this recalibration (return to fundamental values - “eat only what is taken directly from the fields”) represents a useful solution to prevent the kind of bubble inflation that has caused the financial crisis. This passage also teaches against the type of financial alchemy recently witnessed, both by commanding a return to fundamentals and a merciful consideration of others, especially the poor.
If we act responsibly, mercifully, and faithfully, God will rewards us, according to the passage, with more prosperity than if we act selfishly. This is classic example of 'you reap what you sow', similar to the directive not to store up the Manna but rather to trust God's provision. The reason is that “the land is [God's]”: selling it, let alone backing debt on it, assumes a type of human ownership that is fundamentally meaningless. It is, to say the least, “striving after wind”, and the notion of 'sovereignty' seems absurd as it pertains to human institutions. Notice, however, that in the passage, God draws a distinction between houses that are enclosed within a “walled city” and those in “open country”. Within cities, the Jubilee does not apply, whereas those outside are bound by the “redemption of the land”.
This leads me to Nehemiah. A previous post detailed the kind of covenants made after the rebuilding of Jerusalem, including the forgiveness of all debt. Notice that this occurred immediately after the walls had been built. The connection, I propose, is that walls serve a purpose: to delineate territory, inside which a certain law dominates. Nehemiah understood this, and so immediately injected the Wall with God's law, and ensured that the people would continually recourse to those directives. He therefore opened the Gates to the Jubilee. I think it is also pertinent here that when Jesus entered Jerusalem, he did so through a Gate, and this very fact is explicitly documented as if it had some special meaning. Moreover, when He returns, Revelation tells us that He will again come through a Gate.
What is the consequence if we establish our own law within our city, not based on God's law but rather on our own selfish desires? Study Matthew 18. A King is owed an unpayable debt by one of his slaves, and decides to annul the repayment. However, the unmerciful servant then harasses and imprisons one of his own debtors. The result is blunt: the King overturns his original decision, and sends the servant to the torturers until the debt can be repaid (by implication, for eternity).
As individuals we are morally in the same position as the servant. We owe an eternal debt to Jesus, through the cross. Jesus points out that the greater the debt forgiven, the great the love produced (by asking a hypothetical question to one of his disciples). So that is one option – we forgive our debtors, and God forgives our own debts, and the result is love. On the contrary, if we are unmerciful, Jesus says that “My heavenly Father will also do the same to you, if each of you does not forgive his brother from your heart.” For this reason, Paul tell us to “let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law.” This is a perfect example of the Law of Love (see an earlier post). Our debt to Christ is eternal; therefore, the fact that we are forgiven that debt should lead to eternal love. If, however, we do not accept our position in the 'forgiveness chain', we are judged by our own actions, and that eternal debt will be repaid (for eternity, no doubt).
It is telling that some versions of the Lord's prayer read “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors”, rather than “trespass” and “those who trespass against us”, respectively. I think that this article has also made an interesting connection between the (seemingly disjointed) elements of that very prayer - “give us this day our daily bread”, and “your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven”. This things all go together: forgiveness, prosperity, and God's Law.
Now, back to the economy. A similar 'chain' of debt can be found (but perhaps its end is still not in sight). In short, by buying mortgage-backed securities, China as a massive surplus nation lent money to American banks, who in turn lent money to consumers (who in turn bought Chinese-made products). On a separate level, what of the 'debt' of developing countries in Latin America and Africa owed to the developed world? The problem of aid is that it creates perverse incentives: adverse selection (it rewards failure through allocation to poor countries, which are usually poor because of bad governance) and moral hazard (there are no consequences for those who accept the aid if it is not repaid). Others argue that the problem with aid is that is has been accompanied by stringent conditions, which do more harm than good; what is indisputable is that those conditions are certainly painful, as even the creditors are finding now in their choice between austerity (e.g. Britain's 'emergency budget') and default (Greece?), both of which are unpopular and in their own ways weigh down economic recovery (unemployment in the former, currency collapse in the latter). I would propose that maybe there is a connection to the way that we have handled debt to us, and the consequences of our own debt (by 'our', I refer to the developed world). It is telling that the largest debtor nations are no longer 'underdeveloped' countries, but rather those previously in a position to forgive debt. If they had done so, maybe they would have returned to Jubilee, creating a type of 'international social capital' that would correct those perverse incentives (I.e. Love). Mercy would have brought prosperity.
This is speculation, but is seems consistent with the evidence (I.e. the Bible). Notice that these principles apply on every level, micro, macro, and meta: a bond is a bond, after all (interestingly, this term derives from slavery). Seek first his Kingdom and His righteousness, and all this things will be added to you as well. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? The answer seems to be that he ends up forfeiting the world as well.
Wealth seemed to be created at every stage: a borrower could own a house (with a price that was erroneously believed to rise invariably), a creditor could sell the debt, and the purchasers could count on future repayment. The missing link, of course, was the repayment. The price of the collateral (the mortgaged house) was the exact same asset that was purchased using the borrowed money. If this price of the asset were to fall, a slew of defaults would ensue, crashing the market, and thus destroying collateral. This is what Ben Bernanke has termed 'financial fragility'; I would call it 'building your house on sand'. Because of the entanglement of indebtedness, when this did occur it sparked a chain reaction that brought down the entire financial system, causing mass unemployment, bank failure, and even sovereign default. The ramifications are still being felt today, with the more 'developed' countries now in urgent need of rescue.
What does the Bible say about debt? The Old Testament is replete with directives for handling debt. One of these is found in Leviticus 25, which sanctions a Jubilee Year, calculated as “seven Sabbaths of years” - that is, every 49 years. All transactions, values, and debts are firmly based around this year, at which point “everybody is to return to his property” and all debts are to be forgiven. To me, this recalibration (return to fundamental values - “eat only what is taken directly from the fields”) represents a useful solution to prevent the kind of bubble inflation that has caused the financial crisis. This passage also teaches against the type of financial alchemy recently witnessed, both by commanding a return to fundamentals and a merciful consideration of others, especially the poor.
If we act responsibly, mercifully, and faithfully, God will rewards us, according to the passage, with more prosperity than if we act selfishly. This is classic example of 'you reap what you sow', similar to the directive not to store up the Manna but rather to trust God's provision. The reason is that “the land is [God's]”: selling it, let alone backing debt on it, assumes a type of human ownership that is fundamentally meaningless. It is, to say the least, “striving after wind”, and the notion of 'sovereignty' seems absurd as it pertains to human institutions. Notice, however, that in the passage, God draws a distinction between houses that are enclosed within a “walled city” and those in “open country”. Within cities, the Jubilee does not apply, whereas those outside are bound by the “redemption of the land”.
This leads me to Nehemiah. A previous post detailed the kind of covenants made after the rebuilding of Jerusalem, including the forgiveness of all debt. Notice that this occurred immediately after the walls had been built. The connection, I propose, is that walls serve a purpose: to delineate territory, inside which a certain law dominates. Nehemiah understood this, and so immediately injected the Wall with God's law, and ensured that the people would continually recourse to those directives. He therefore opened the Gates to the Jubilee. I think it is also pertinent here that when Jesus entered Jerusalem, he did so through a Gate, and this very fact is explicitly documented as if it had some special meaning. Moreover, when He returns, Revelation tells us that He will again come through a Gate.
What is the consequence if we establish our own law within our city, not based on God's law but rather on our own selfish desires? Study Matthew 18. A King is owed an unpayable debt by one of his slaves, and decides to annul the repayment. However, the unmerciful servant then harasses and imprisons one of his own debtors. The result is blunt: the King overturns his original decision, and sends the servant to the torturers until the debt can be repaid (by implication, for eternity).
As individuals we are morally in the same position as the servant. We owe an eternal debt to Jesus, through the cross. Jesus points out that the greater the debt forgiven, the great the love produced (by asking a hypothetical question to one of his disciples). So that is one option – we forgive our debtors, and God forgives our own debts, and the result is love. On the contrary, if we are unmerciful, Jesus says that “My heavenly Father will also do the same to you, if each of you does not forgive his brother from your heart.” For this reason, Paul tell us to “let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law.” This is a perfect example of the Law of Love (see an earlier post). Our debt to Christ is eternal; therefore, the fact that we are forgiven that debt should lead to eternal love. If, however, we do not accept our position in the 'forgiveness chain', we are judged by our own actions, and that eternal debt will be repaid (for eternity, no doubt).
It is telling that some versions of the Lord's prayer read “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors”, rather than “trespass” and “those who trespass against us”, respectively. I think that this article has also made an interesting connection between the (seemingly disjointed) elements of that very prayer - “give us this day our daily bread”, and “your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven”. This things all go together: forgiveness, prosperity, and God's Law.
Now, back to the economy. A similar 'chain' of debt can be found (but perhaps its end is still not in sight). In short, by buying mortgage-backed securities, China as a massive surplus nation lent money to American banks, who in turn lent money to consumers (who in turn bought Chinese-made products). On a separate level, what of the 'debt' of developing countries in Latin America and Africa owed to the developed world? The problem of aid is that it creates perverse incentives: adverse selection (it rewards failure through allocation to poor countries, which are usually poor because of bad governance) and moral hazard (there are no consequences for those who accept the aid if it is not repaid). Others argue that the problem with aid is that is has been accompanied by stringent conditions, which do more harm than good; what is indisputable is that those conditions are certainly painful, as even the creditors are finding now in their choice between austerity (e.g. Britain's 'emergency budget') and default (Greece?), both of which are unpopular and in their own ways weigh down economic recovery (unemployment in the former, currency collapse in the latter). I would propose that maybe there is a connection to the way that we have handled debt to us, and the consequences of our own debt (by 'our', I refer to the developed world). It is telling that the largest debtor nations are no longer 'underdeveloped' countries, but rather those previously in a position to forgive debt. If they had done so, maybe they would have returned to Jubilee, creating a type of 'international social capital' that would correct those perverse incentives (I.e. Love). Mercy would have brought prosperity.
This is speculation, but is seems consistent with the evidence (I.e. the Bible). Notice that these principles apply on every level, micro, macro, and meta: a bond is a bond, after all (interestingly, this term derives from slavery). Seek first his Kingdom and His righteousness, and all this things will be added to you as well. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? The answer seems to be that he ends up forfeiting the world as well.
Saturday, 12 June 2010
Re: The Calling of the Saint
Relevant passage for the last post: Matthew 7
21"Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter.
22"Many will say to Me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?'
23"And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.'
Scary stuff. According to this passage, we can prophesy, cast out demons, and perform miracles, and yet not truly serve God. We can receive authority, and misuse it: we can fail to fulfill our prieslty annointing.
It is indispensable, therefore, that we commit wholeheartedly to Christ, rather than dither, to be spiritually infantile or even dead, or to be lukewarm, for these are abominable in His sight. We know that He spits such people out of his mouth.
From Ecclesiastes: When you make a vow to God, do not delay in fulfilling it. He has no pleasure in fools; fulfill your vow.
21"Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter.
22"Many will say to Me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?'
23"And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.'
Scary stuff. According to this passage, we can prophesy, cast out demons, and perform miracles, and yet not truly serve God. We can receive authority, and misuse it: we can fail to fulfill our prieslty annointing.
It is indispensable, therefore, that we commit wholeheartedly to Christ, rather than dither, to be spiritually infantile or even dead, or to be lukewarm, for these are abominable in His sight. We know that He spits such people out of his mouth.
From Ecclesiastes: When you make a vow to God, do not delay in fulfilling it. He has no pleasure in fools; fulfill your vow.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
The Calling of a Saint
If you have ever read Hebrews, you know that through Christ, we are all priests, because we have a High Priest who became one of us, so that we might have direct access to God, the Holy of Holies, unveiled, undefiled, and previously, untrammelled by anyone other than the High Priest, once a year. We no longer require an intermediary; we do no longer look at shadows cast by the light, but rather, we are able to stare directly into the light. Through Jesus, we are all saints in Christ: no longer must we be of an elect group or tribe (the Levites), or race (the Hebrews). However, if you have ever read Leviticus, you will know that the calling of a Priest is no easy ride. If we are truly to be agents of Christ on earth ('the righteousness of God') we must conduct ourselves accordingly.
Paul tells us that we will one day judge even the angels – what a calling! Indeed, Jesus gives his disciples dominion over all types of evil, to cast out demons and perform wonders in His name. Moreover, he commands them to employ this novel authority, by going out to all the nations and making disciples of all people. But we also know that we must remove the log out of our own eye before we can see clearly enough (or indeed have the moral authority) to perform surgery on somebody else's for the sake of removing a speck. Indeed, Jesus would recommend removing the eye if it causes us to sin: vision would be clearer with only one eye! Paul also tells us that we are given the Mind of Christ. But we also know from Ecclesiastes that with much wisdom comes much grief!
We have been given a great privilege, and also a great responsibility. Examine the following passage from Luke: “As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" But Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.” On a separate occasion, Christ commands Peter to “get behind Me, Satan!” What was wrong with the disciples? What were they doing wrong?
To be a saint, to live out our priestly calling, is to deny the self. To put on the robe of righteousness is to be pure in God's eyes. By definition, as the world has not understood the light, because it is in darkness, that means humbling ourselves through the lens of the world. That includes our own pretensions of grandeur. The robe is indeed spectacular: the chest-plate that the High Priest wore was embellished with all manner of precious minerals. But three points are noted. First, how brilliant is a stone without light? Our glory must be purely a reflection of the only source of true light, that is, Christ. As vessels, we convey light; we do not conduct it. Second, how brilliant is a stone to blind man? If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and we are living among the spiritually blind, then we will not be praised for taking on this holy role. Third, how heavy is the chest-plate? It is burdensome, and will weigh us down at times. It requires purity, which given our human conditions, requires purification.
Indeed, purification is a fundamental practice of the Priest. To deny our selves, and to allow Christ within us to take the reigns, we must expel those sinful elements that would threaten the transmission of will. For me, this is a very personal matter; for the High Priest, it involved all manner of rigid ritual. I think that we can take a lesson from such discipline: purification must be regular, and importantly, it will not always be what we want – indeed, given its purpose, it is most likely the exact opposite of what we want at the time! It is here that I respect the apparent inflexibility of Catholicism and Orthodoxy (along with Judaism, Islam, and most other religions!). If we are pure of heart, we can indeed do whatever we want – because what we want will be what God wants. The key, however, is that in such a scenario, one is already pure. We must first become holy, before we can enter into the Holy of Holies.
Purification is painful, involving the type of heat, chiselling and re-shaping that is required of the precious metals that adorn our robes. Christ died for us: the only One who had no sin became sin, so that through Him, we might become the righteousness of God. Heaven is a free gift. But Paul tells the Church that the spiritual walk is one of growth and maturity. If we are to reside with God, we must resist ourselves with self-control. If we are to dwell in the Shelter of the Most High, to abide in the Shadow of the Almighty, we must first allow Him to change us in such a way as to be presentable.
We cannot show up to the wedding unprepared. It is impossible to show up uninvited, for all are welcome – that is the freedom of the gift. But it is possible to show up without adequate preparation. We must continually ensure that we have enough oil for our candles. The supply is infinite, but our apparatuses require constant refilling. “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other."
His yoke is easy, and His burden is light, but only if we allow Him to help us carry that cross daily. Indeed, the very definition, in my opinion, of carrying our cross daily is to let Him carry it. That is the hardest part of self-denial, and the ultimate goal of self-control! If non-Christians are guilty of leaving the cross behind them, we Christians are often guilty of trying to do all the work ourselves!
One final point about holiness. Why is that Jesus tells his disciples that they should be “like children” if they want to enter the Kingdom of God? I would posit that children are 'unpolluted'; they have not yet accumulated the need for purification (although of course, inherently, everybody must be cleansed). It is often the simple things that drive faith. Solomon finds that all of his earthly endeavours, his elaborate adventures, his extravagant pleasures, and his sophisticated knowledge, all led to nothing: worse, they led him to “hate his labour” and to “despise his life”. There is a secret knowledge, an infinite mystery, that is God the father. The Orthodox branch of Christianity has captured this commendably in their mystic practices of worship and study. However, the fundamental truth, the basic tenant of our existence, survival, and calling, is one of love. To understand love is to be human. And the truth of love exists in action. Love has no greater truth than for one to sacrifice himself for a friend. The priestly calling is one of constant maturity, but to purify oneself is to return to our maker, and our making. Though we are his ambassadors, we are also his children.
Paul tells us that we will one day judge even the angels – what a calling! Indeed, Jesus gives his disciples dominion over all types of evil, to cast out demons and perform wonders in His name. Moreover, he commands them to employ this novel authority, by going out to all the nations and making disciples of all people. But we also know that we must remove the log out of our own eye before we can see clearly enough (or indeed have the moral authority) to perform surgery on somebody else's for the sake of removing a speck. Indeed, Jesus would recommend removing the eye if it causes us to sin: vision would be clearer with only one eye! Paul also tells us that we are given the Mind of Christ. But we also know from Ecclesiastes that with much wisdom comes much grief!
We have been given a great privilege, and also a great responsibility. Examine the following passage from Luke: “As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" But Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.” On a separate occasion, Christ commands Peter to “get behind Me, Satan!” What was wrong with the disciples? What were they doing wrong?
To be a saint, to live out our priestly calling, is to deny the self. To put on the robe of righteousness is to be pure in God's eyes. By definition, as the world has not understood the light, because it is in darkness, that means humbling ourselves through the lens of the world. That includes our own pretensions of grandeur. The robe is indeed spectacular: the chest-plate that the High Priest wore was embellished with all manner of precious minerals. But three points are noted. First, how brilliant is a stone without light? Our glory must be purely a reflection of the only source of true light, that is, Christ. As vessels, we convey light; we do not conduct it. Second, how brilliant is a stone to blind man? If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and we are living among the spiritually blind, then we will not be praised for taking on this holy role. Third, how heavy is the chest-plate? It is burdensome, and will weigh us down at times. It requires purity, which given our human conditions, requires purification.
Indeed, purification is a fundamental practice of the Priest. To deny our selves, and to allow Christ within us to take the reigns, we must expel those sinful elements that would threaten the transmission of will. For me, this is a very personal matter; for the High Priest, it involved all manner of rigid ritual. I think that we can take a lesson from such discipline: purification must be regular, and importantly, it will not always be what we want – indeed, given its purpose, it is most likely the exact opposite of what we want at the time! It is here that I respect the apparent inflexibility of Catholicism and Orthodoxy (along with Judaism, Islam, and most other religions!). If we are pure of heart, we can indeed do whatever we want – because what we want will be what God wants. The key, however, is that in such a scenario, one is already pure. We must first become holy, before we can enter into the Holy of Holies.
Purification is painful, involving the type of heat, chiselling and re-shaping that is required of the precious metals that adorn our robes. Christ died for us: the only One who had no sin became sin, so that through Him, we might become the righteousness of God. Heaven is a free gift. But Paul tells the Church that the spiritual walk is one of growth and maturity. If we are to reside with God, we must resist ourselves with self-control. If we are to dwell in the Shelter of the Most High, to abide in the Shadow of the Almighty, we must first allow Him to change us in such a way as to be presentable.
We cannot show up to the wedding unprepared. It is impossible to show up uninvited, for all are welcome – that is the freedom of the gift. But it is possible to show up without adequate preparation. We must continually ensure that we have enough oil for our candles. The supply is infinite, but our apparatuses require constant refilling. “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other."
His yoke is easy, and His burden is light, but only if we allow Him to help us carry that cross daily. Indeed, the very definition, in my opinion, of carrying our cross daily is to let Him carry it. That is the hardest part of self-denial, and the ultimate goal of self-control! If non-Christians are guilty of leaving the cross behind them, we Christians are often guilty of trying to do all the work ourselves!
One final point about holiness. Why is that Jesus tells his disciples that they should be “like children” if they want to enter the Kingdom of God? I would posit that children are 'unpolluted'; they have not yet accumulated the need for purification (although of course, inherently, everybody must be cleansed). It is often the simple things that drive faith. Solomon finds that all of his earthly endeavours, his elaborate adventures, his extravagant pleasures, and his sophisticated knowledge, all led to nothing: worse, they led him to “hate his labour” and to “despise his life”. There is a secret knowledge, an infinite mystery, that is God the father. The Orthodox branch of Christianity has captured this commendably in their mystic practices of worship and study. However, the fundamental truth, the basic tenant of our existence, survival, and calling, is one of love. To understand love is to be human. And the truth of love exists in action. Love has no greater truth than for one to sacrifice himself for a friend. The priestly calling is one of constant maturity, but to purify oneself is to return to our maker, and our making. Though we are his ambassadors, we are also his children.
Monday, 5 April 2010
Linking the Parable of the Talents and the Parable of the Prodigal Son
It would seem natural, indeed predictable, for two of Christ’s parables to share some common threads. Having heard a sermon on the Parable of the Prodigal Son, which insightfully focused on the elder son rather than the “lost son” (indeed, they are both lost in the story, but only one is found), I was reminded very much of the Parable of the Talents. I will deal with each separately, and then attempt to coalesce their messages around a common conclusion.
In modern society, our natural inclination (largely a product of ‘nurture’ rather than ‘nature’ per se, but disputably related to both) is for one of ‘social equality’. It is often debated whether fairness in society entails equality of endowments, income, or opportunities, corresponding to communist, socialist and liberal outlooks respectively. For adherents of any of these schools, the message of the Parable of the Talents is therefore surprising, and certainly uncomfortable: ‘For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away.’ This certainly does not conform to our ‘Robin Hood’ sentiments of social justice.
Conversely, the modern version of social justice also includes punishment. Although the justice system exists to protect the innocent and to rehabilitate the guilty, its own philosophical justification rests on the moral correctness of social reprimand. We feel that it is right for wrong-doers to be punished. Schools of thoughts disagree about the extent and manner of punishment, the most extreme advocating the death penalty and the most liberal espousing a sort of community rehabilitation. For anybody in today’s society, then, the Parable of the Prodigal Son is bewildering. How can the profligate son receive such unmerited grace? And how can the elder son, who has worked his entire life, remain overshadowed by the return of his younger sibling?
Juxtaposing these parables is informative. We have situations whereby: man is rewarded for stewardship and punished for profligacy, and one in which man is forgiven for a similar type of profligacy. In both stories, the master/father figure endows a slave/son with resources, which are then either multiplied or squandered. And yet the morality conveyed seems to be contradictory.
I would propose a solution to the dilemma. Notice that in the Parable of the Talents, the master returns to the slaves, whereas the Prodigal Son returns home. The man who squandered his one talent by burying it is unrepentant, and would probably prefer to bury himself as well, than for the master to return. The Son, on the other hand, is left with nothing – not even one talent. He is obligated to return. It is our reaction that determines our sentence, and this conforms to the idea that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. We are better off with nothing, as we are forced back to God, than to even have a small fraction of earthly treasure to which we pathetically cling.
Moreover, these two parables may be elucidating two separate aspects of our relationship with God. We are his slaves, but thanks to Christ, we are also his sons. In terms of slavery, we must pick up our cross daily to follow him. In terms of family, a father disciplines his son if he loves him. Finally, the surprising aspects of the second parable, that the son got let off the hook, is only so because we would expect something resembling the Talent story. I think this is a valid point: we deserve to have everything taken away, but we are shown grace. Grace is by definition receiving something that we don’t deserve: it cannot exist without a counterpart of punishment.
And so the two conclusions are not irreconcilable.
In modern society, our natural inclination (largely a product of ‘nurture’ rather than ‘nature’ per se, but disputably related to both) is for one of ‘social equality’. It is often debated whether fairness in society entails equality of endowments, income, or opportunities, corresponding to communist, socialist and liberal outlooks respectively. For adherents of any of these schools, the message of the Parable of the Talents is therefore surprising, and certainly uncomfortable: ‘For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away.’ This certainly does not conform to our ‘Robin Hood’ sentiments of social justice.
Conversely, the modern version of social justice also includes punishment. Although the justice system exists to protect the innocent and to rehabilitate the guilty, its own philosophical justification rests on the moral correctness of social reprimand. We feel that it is right for wrong-doers to be punished. Schools of thoughts disagree about the extent and manner of punishment, the most extreme advocating the death penalty and the most liberal espousing a sort of community rehabilitation. For anybody in today’s society, then, the Parable of the Prodigal Son is bewildering. How can the profligate son receive such unmerited grace? And how can the elder son, who has worked his entire life, remain overshadowed by the return of his younger sibling?
Juxtaposing these parables is informative. We have situations whereby: man is rewarded for stewardship and punished for profligacy, and one in which man is forgiven for a similar type of profligacy. In both stories, the master/father figure endows a slave/son with resources, which are then either multiplied or squandered. And yet the morality conveyed seems to be contradictory.
I would propose a solution to the dilemma. Notice that in the Parable of the Talents, the master returns to the slaves, whereas the Prodigal Son returns home. The man who squandered his one talent by burying it is unrepentant, and would probably prefer to bury himself as well, than for the master to return. The Son, on the other hand, is left with nothing – not even one talent. He is obligated to return. It is our reaction that determines our sentence, and this conforms to the idea that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. We are better off with nothing, as we are forced back to God, than to even have a small fraction of earthly treasure to which we pathetically cling.
Moreover, these two parables may be elucidating two separate aspects of our relationship with God. We are his slaves, but thanks to Christ, we are also his sons. In terms of slavery, we must pick up our cross daily to follow him. In terms of family, a father disciplines his son if he loves him. Finally, the surprising aspects of the second parable, that the son got let off the hook, is only so because we would expect something resembling the Talent story. I think this is a valid point: we deserve to have everything taken away, but we are shown grace. Grace is by definition receiving something that we don’t deserve: it cannot exist without a counterpart of punishment.
And so the two conclusions are not irreconcilable.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Re: Sheol
I came across this verse yesterday. I have never posted an entire Bible passage before, but I was awestruck at the similarity between this depiction of false wisdom and that which had come to me spontaneously.
Proverbs 9
Wisdom's Invitation
1Wisdom has built her house,
She has hewn out her seven pillars;
2She has prepared her food, she has mixed her wine;
She has also set her table;
3She has sent out her maidens, she calls
From the tops of the heights of the city:
4"Whoever is naive, let him turn in here!"
To him who lacks understanding she says,
5"Come, eat of my food
And drink of the wine I have mixed.
6"Forsake your folly and live,
And proceed in the way of understanding."
7He who corrects a scoffer gets dishonor for himself,
And he who reproves a wicked man gets insults for himself.
8(N)Do not reprove a scoffer, or he will hate you,
Reprove a wise man and he will love you.
9Give instruction to a wise man and he will be still wiser,
Teach a righteous man and he will increase his learning.
10The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom,
And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
11For by me your days will be multiplied,
And years of life will be added to you.
12If you are wise, you are wise for yourself,
And if you scoff, you alone will bear it.
13The woman of folly is boisterous,
She is naive and knows nothing.
14She sits at the doorway of her house,
On a seat by the high places of the city,
15Calling to those who pass by,
Who are making their paths straight:
16"Whoever is naive, let him turn in here,"
And to him who lacks understanding she says,
17"Stolen water is sweet;
And bread eaten in secret is pleasant."
18But he does not know that the dead are there,
That her guests are in the depths of Sheol.
Proverbs 9
Wisdom's Invitation
1Wisdom has built her house,
She has hewn out her seven pillars;
2She has prepared her food, she has mixed her wine;
She has also set her table;
3She has sent out her maidens, she calls
From the tops of the heights of the city:
4"Whoever is naive, let him turn in here!"
To him who lacks understanding she says,
5"Come, eat of my food
And drink of the wine I have mixed.
6"Forsake your folly and live,
And proceed in the way of understanding."
7He who corrects a scoffer gets dishonor for himself,
And he who reproves a wicked man gets insults for himself.
8(N)Do not reprove a scoffer, or he will hate you,
Reprove a wise man and he will love you.
9Give instruction to a wise man and he will be still wiser,
Teach a righteous man and he will increase his learning.
10The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom,
And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
11For by me your days will be multiplied,
And years of life will be added to you.
12If you are wise, you are wise for yourself,
And if you scoff, you alone will bear it.
13The woman of folly is boisterous,
She is naive and knows nothing.
14She sits at the doorway of her house,
On a seat by the high places of the city,
15Calling to those who pass by,
Who are making their paths straight:
16"Whoever is naive, let him turn in here,"
And to him who lacks understanding she says,
17"Stolen water is sweet;
And bread eaten in secret is pleasant."
18But he does not know that the dead are there,
That her guests are in the depths of Sheol.
Monday, 15 March 2010
Sheol
Sheol is wilderness and exile: a place of silence that has no character or echo. It is a desert of aimless wandering, within which are pitched 'tents', usually referring to something sub-standard, as if the Blessing has not been accepted - the "dwelling of the wicked". Moreover, I Sheols are rooms or chambers a large complex of atrium. Somewhere in the building is God's throne room, the heart of the system, and these anti-chambers are somehow cut off from the blood supply – they lie on the 'wrong side of the veil', i.e. not in the Holy of Holies but outside of God's sanctuary. Sheol is a type of purgatory, or waiting room, maybe a type of purification as we wait for "God's smoke to fill the temple". In Sheol there is "Gnashing of Teeth" and also plagues of many sorts.
However, it is more complicated than merely a place of punishment. For me, there are two reasons why somebody would be in a Sheol. Although once you are in, you became entrapped as if in a whirlpool, there is also a false lure that keeps you there wittingly, which is also the pull factor that got you there in the first place. This is the idea of a snare – it lures you in with false promise, but does not reveal to you the burdensome conditions until you have already signed the contract. I don't know how this works for other people, but for me, the deepest desire of my heart is to have knowledge. Sheol then seems to offer a type of 'secret, exclusive knowledge' that will make me 'like God' (sound familiar?...Eden...) In reality, the knowledge in Sheol is nothing, counterfeit, and alchemy, and the result is destruction. Interestingly, the recent financial crisis was largely blamed on 'financial alchemy' – self-deception or risk elimination due to incomprehensibly complex instruments and formulae. The result is a prolonged period of readjustment.
Until this point, Africa has been in a Sheol, in that it has not had the ABILITY to develop: a 'bad equilibrium' or 'poverty trap' of no infrastructure, no investment and persistent poverty manifests itself in fertility, subsistence agriculture, corruption, conflict, etc. But I feel that opportunities now exist, not least Chinese investment and micro-finance. There is now no excuse: the door has been opened, and escape is in its grasp. Now it is a matter of attitude and willpower. Hopefully the lure of Sheol will not dominate: although we all feel the bite of sin (not completely, thank God), we still return to it, as a dog to its vomit. And the Word says that to return to the path of destruction after being delivered from it is worse than ever having been delivered.
The opposite of Sheol is Salem, i.e. Jerusalem, or for us, the New Jerusalem. Personally, I have escaped a very significant Sheol in my life, and now feel like I am in God's sanctuary: I have crossed the veil that was torn when Christ died and was raised. And to be honest, I feel that Sheol is the period of time in between Christ's death and his resurrection. Once we enter his dwelling place (the HOUSE of God rather than mere TENTS), we receive divine wisdom.
However, we also then bear the responsibility of Priesthood, as only the High Priests can enter the Holy of Holies. Part of our responsibility as priests is to help other people escape their own Sheols. To do this, we must bring the Light of Christ from the sanctuary, through ourselves, to the anti-chambers. We must unlock the doors, show people the way to the Promised Land. The rest is their choice. But the offshoot is that we must comport ourselves in a way that keeps us from Sheol (or else we will be the ones in need of deliverance). We must steer clear of Babylon, of Egypt; we must never falsely pine for our times in that horrible place, as the Hebrews did when the times got tough. Better is one day in the House of God than thousands elsewhere.
The other side of Sheol, apart from being this 'library' or 'encyclopedia' of false knowledge, is that it is also a false justice. God's house is a courtroom, and all things hang in perfect harmony and balance. For an economist, this represents 'perfect efficiency'. Any attempt to create perfect balance without God's revelation, like false knowledge, leads to destruction. This brings to mind Eudamonia, which Aristotle conceived as a man-made Utopia, reached by living a life of perfect ethical moderation. It was apparently based on the 'Golden ratio', which appears in nature and geometry ubiquitously. So the ideas of justice and knowledge are really one and the same.
I was wondering how Christians can enter this Sheol, which seems to be a lack of salvation. Mom suggested that it was because Sheol is a chamber of the sole, not the redeemed spirit. The sole can go astray and may need correction even when the Holy Spirit is present. In Paul's letters, he often tells his readers that they are 'dead' or 'asleep', and this is what I think he means. This connotes the idea of the seeds being scattered on three types of ground: the hard ground and the fertile ground have clear-cut consequences. But there is also this 'in-between' state, where growth happens but is constrained and strangled out.
Pre-Christ Judaism held that 'Abraham's Bosom' represented a comfortable exit from Sheol, which was a place of purification for the righteous and unrighteous alike. Thanks to God's grace, we are delivered from Sheol.
However, it is more complicated than merely a place of punishment. For me, there are two reasons why somebody would be in a Sheol. Although once you are in, you became entrapped as if in a whirlpool, there is also a false lure that keeps you there wittingly, which is also the pull factor that got you there in the first place. This is the idea of a snare – it lures you in with false promise, but does not reveal to you the burdensome conditions until you have already signed the contract. I don't know how this works for other people, but for me, the deepest desire of my heart is to have knowledge. Sheol then seems to offer a type of 'secret, exclusive knowledge' that will make me 'like God' (sound familiar?...Eden...) In reality, the knowledge in Sheol is nothing, counterfeit, and alchemy, and the result is destruction. Interestingly, the recent financial crisis was largely blamed on 'financial alchemy' – self-deception or risk elimination due to incomprehensibly complex instruments and formulae. The result is a prolonged period of readjustment.
Until this point, Africa has been in a Sheol, in that it has not had the ABILITY to develop: a 'bad equilibrium' or 'poverty trap' of no infrastructure, no investment and persistent poverty manifests itself in fertility, subsistence agriculture, corruption, conflict, etc. But I feel that opportunities now exist, not least Chinese investment and micro-finance. There is now no excuse: the door has been opened, and escape is in its grasp. Now it is a matter of attitude and willpower. Hopefully the lure of Sheol will not dominate: although we all feel the bite of sin (not completely, thank God), we still return to it, as a dog to its vomit. And the Word says that to return to the path of destruction after being delivered from it is worse than ever having been delivered.
The opposite of Sheol is Salem, i.e. Jerusalem, or for us, the New Jerusalem. Personally, I have escaped a very significant Sheol in my life, and now feel like I am in God's sanctuary: I have crossed the veil that was torn when Christ died and was raised. And to be honest, I feel that Sheol is the period of time in between Christ's death and his resurrection. Once we enter his dwelling place (the HOUSE of God rather than mere TENTS), we receive divine wisdom.
However, we also then bear the responsibility of Priesthood, as only the High Priests can enter the Holy of Holies. Part of our responsibility as priests is to help other people escape their own Sheols. To do this, we must bring the Light of Christ from the sanctuary, through ourselves, to the anti-chambers. We must unlock the doors, show people the way to the Promised Land. The rest is their choice. But the offshoot is that we must comport ourselves in a way that keeps us from Sheol (or else we will be the ones in need of deliverance). We must steer clear of Babylon, of Egypt; we must never falsely pine for our times in that horrible place, as the Hebrews did when the times got tough. Better is one day in the House of God than thousands elsewhere.
The other side of Sheol, apart from being this 'library' or 'encyclopedia' of false knowledge, is that it is also a false justice. God's house is a courtroom, and all things hang in perfect harmony and balance. For an economist, this represents 'perfect efficiency'. Any attempt to create perfect balance without God's revelation, like false knowledge, leads to destruction. This brings to mind Eudamonia, which Aristotle conceived as a man-made Utopia, reached by living a life of perfect ethical moderation. It was apparently based on the 'Golden ratio', which appears in nature and geometry ubiquitously. So the ideas of justice and knowledge are really one and the same.
I was wondering how Christians can enter this Sheol, which seems to be a lack of salvation. Mom suggested that it was because Sheol is a chamber of the sole, not the redeemed spirit. The sole can go astray and may need correction even when the Holy Spirit is present. In Paul's letters, he often tells his readers that they are 'dead' or 'asleep', and this is what I think he means. This connotes the idea of the seeds being scattered on three types of ground: the hard ground and the fertile ground have clear-cut consequences. But there is also this 'in-between' state, where growth happens but is constrained and strangled out.
Pre-Christ Judaism held that 'Abraham's Bosom' represented a comfortable exit from Sheol, which was a place of purification for the righteous and unrighteous alike. Thanks to God's grace, we are delivered from Sheol.
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