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.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
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.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
Re: Ethical Equivalence - no Ponzi Scheme
P.S.: The Ramsay Model also demands that there is no Ponzi-Scheme. This involves the artificial creation of value, through promising to pay somebody if they enlist several more people in the scheme. The promise never reaches fruition, and the person at the apex of the pyramid benefits from the contributions of everybody underneath him (everybody else is left with nothing).
God's Law is a Ponzi Scheme that works. Our utility does in part rely on sharing our investment with other people, and hoping that they will follow our example and sign up to the programme. However, the promise of payment is never rescinded. When Christ comes back, the scheme reaches its completion, and all those in it receive the payment of eternal life in Heaven.
God's Law is a Ponzi Scheme that works. Our utility does in part rely on sharing our investment with other people, and hoping that they will follow our example and sign up to the programme. However, the promise of payment is never rescinded. When Christ comes back, the scheme reaches its completion, and all those in it receive the payment of eternal life in Heaven.
Ethical Equivalence Through the Law of Love
Two strands of ethical thought exist, both within Christian theology and secular philosophy: deontological ethics, which values the adherence to moral codes, and consequentialism, which values the effect of actions rather than their intrinsic worth. The former is often associated with the likes of Kant, whilst the most famous variation of the latter is utilitaianism.
These two systems of thought are not, by definition, dichotomous. The divergence of an action's intrinsic goodness and its consequences only comes about when a moral law, when applied to a given situation, may yield less-than-best consequences. In reailty, such situations do in fact abound. The most frequently cited is the scenario of a person harbouring Jews in Nazi-occupied Europe, who is asked by a Nazi investigator whether or not she is in fact harbouring Jews. She is faced with a dilemma: if she adheres to her moral code, which stipulates that lying is wrong, she knowingly facilitates murder. Conversely, if she does her best to generate the optimal outcome, that is, to protect the Jews, she must break her moral code and lie.
Does our Christian code of values ever contradict itself in such a way? I will attempt to show that God's law is perfect, and is only contradictory when it is distorted; such distortion occurs through the selective incorporation of Godly principles into a human, sinful frame of reference.
I begin my argument with a premise: before sin, deontological and consequential ethics were identical. There was only one law: not to eat the forbidden fruit. To obey this law was both good in itself, because it conformed to God's commandments, but was also consequentially optimal, for it maintained a state of perfection. It was only after the fall that actions and consequences fell out of synchronisation.
God's law is still perfect, because God never solicits us to do evil. There can never be a situation in which God commands us to apply a certain principle that obligates us to break another. I argue that such contention only occurs when God's law is made subservient to a human system rather than master over it. In other words, God's law only works perfectly when it is held up as the highest authority. If this is indeed so, then if we ever face a situation such as that of the Jew-harbourer, we must appeal to God's supremity.
Such situations, however, are surely inevitable. Yes. But only because we live in a fallen world. The Law can never be upheld, because all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. There is no one righteous, not even one. However, the penalty of sin was paid for not by its culprits, but by Jesus Christ. Through the crucifixion, a New Covenant, one of Love and Grace, superceded the condemnation that would have otherwise fallen on us. The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
When we are presented with a conundrum between actions and consequences, we must invoke God's Law: one of grace, and one of love. For this reason, Love is the most important commandment - through it, the rest are fulfilled! If we live by love, we receive God's grace, and therefore the law is fulfilled through Christ's payment of sacrifice. There are often handy get-outs: for example, silence (a device used by Christ himself) can often allow us to avoid
both lying and revealing the truth. However, in general, if we are in harmony with his law, we will be within his divine authority.
In fact, all trade-offs, which are the essence of the economic problem, are the result of sin. Immediate pleasure versus long-term good. The basis of an investment decision. The crux of any collective action problem. The problem of free-riding. Carbon emissions and climate change. Fast food and obesity. Loans and debt. Idleness and unemployment. However, the former part of any trade-off - the immediate pleasure - is never bad in itself. Driving your car, eating a chocolate bar, taking out a loan, going on holiday - are all permissible in themselves. It is the balance that is important. I have blogged on this balance many times. Suffice it to say that when this balance is defiled, the consequences are deleterious. A prime example: we are commanded not to be idle, and yet also to take rest through the Sabbath.
The quest for the ideal balance leads us closer to God. In Heaven, to serve God is also the strategy that bears the most fruit, and indeed this mechanism is available to us on earth, so long as we live by Love and thereby receive Grace. Seek first his Kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you as well.
In economics, according to the Ramsey Macroeconomic Model, humans maximise their utility by smoothing out their consumption over time. However, because humans are selfish, they value present consumption over future consumption and so discount any future earnings. Because human beings are selfish, the imbalances above tend to favour immediate utility over long-term good.
Moreover, agents maximise their utility subject to the transversality condition, which says that time is finite. In other words, it makes no sense to perpetually save (and thereby sacrifice present consumption for future consumption), because eventually we die. Unless we have a massive binge on our death bed, all of the utility of our savings go down the drain unless we consume them eventually. It is important to remember that not only quantity matters: the longer you save, the more you gain, because even with a constant interest rate, the effect is
cumulative.
This applies to Christianity through the idea of sacrifice. In economics, human beings sacrifice, but only for the sake of future utility (in reality, this rational simplification does not hold, because people's actions are often governed psychologically, by emotions, which do not abide by such calculations). To follow the Law of Love, we must live in a state of continual surrender. By doing so, we reconcile deontological and consequential ethics. Why? Because we live forever. We have no transversality condition. By storing up treasures in Heaven, we in fact maximise our total, intertemporal utility, no matter how large our discount factor!
This introduces and interesting debate on 'hedonism', which I will not fully indulge, but will abbreviate. The question posed is the following: if we benefit from it is sacrifice, how can it indeed be sacrifice? My answer is that Sacrifice is God's commandment, and therefore will be rewarded. This is indeed a sign that we are living according to his commandments! In other words, the cost of sacrifice is the result of a fallen system, of which we are no longer bound, thanks to Christ. Our sacrifice, whilst involving earthly discomfort, should in fact delight us! We should revel in it, knowing that the tesing of our faith builds character. Through Christ, Paul learnt to be joyful in any situation, hungry or full, in prison or free. He loved those persecuted him, and he thanked God for putting him in jail. The key to happiness: Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart - which, not coincidentally, will inevitably be delight in the Lord.
Finally, in the Ramsey model, equilibrium can only be reached through a unique 'saddle path' of adjustment. Any digression from this path will lead to either of poverty trap that violates the Euler equation (if too much is consumed in any given period) or a disequlibrium that violates the transversality condition. This again relates to Christianity: the Bible tells us that few find the path to Christ, and moreover, that Christ is the only way to God. We cannot alter this rule. (NB: more on the 'Ponzi-scheme' condition as it applies to Christian evangelism at a different time)
We can see, then, why God's ultimate sacrifice allows us to have eternal life, and conversely, why the prospect of eternal life allows us to respond with a life is sacrifice. How's that for perfection.
These two systems of thought are not, by definition, dichotomous. The divergence of an action's intrinsic goodness and its consequences only comes about when a moral law, when applied to a given situation, may yield less-than-best consequences. In reailty, such situations do in fact abound. The most frequently cited is the scenario of a person harbouring Jews in Nazi-occupied Europe, who is asked by a Nazi investigator whether or not she is in fact harbouring Jews. She is faced with a dilemma: if she adheres to her moral code, which stipulates that lying is wrong, she knowingly facilitates murder. Conversely, if she does her best to generate the optimal outcome, that is, to protect the Jews, she must break her moral code and lie.
Does our Christian code of values ever contradict itself in such a way? I will attempt to show that God's law is perfect, and is only contradictory when it is distorted; such distortion occurs through the selective incorporation of Godly principles into a human, sinful frame of reference.
I begin my argument with a premise: before sin, deontological and consequential ethics were identical. There was only one law: not to eat the forbidden fruit. To obey this law was both good in itself, because it conformed to God's commandments, but was also consequentially optimal, for it maintained a state of perfection. It was only after the fall that actions and consequences fell out of synchronisation.
God's law is still perfect, because God never solicits us to do evil. There can never be a situation in which God commands us to apply a certain principle that obligates us to break another. I argue that such contention only occurs when God's law is made subservient to a human system rather than master over it. In other words, God's law only works perfectly when it is held up as the highest authority. If this is indeed so, then if we ever face a situation such as that of the Jew-harbourer, we must appeal to God's supremity.
Such situations, however, are surely inevitable. Yes. But only because we live in a fallen world. The Law can never be upheld, because all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. There is no one righteous, not even one. However, the penalty of sin was paid for not by its culprits, but by Jesus Christ. Through the crucifixion, a New Covenant, one of Love and Grace, superceded the condemnation that would have otherwise fallen on us. The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
When we are presented with a conundrum between actions and consequences, we must invoke God's Law: one of grace, and one of love. For this reason, Love is the most important commandment - through it, the rest are fulfilled! If we live by love, we receive God's grace, and therefore the law is fulfilled through Christ's payment of sacrifice. There are often handy get-outs: for example, silence (a device used by Christ himself) can often allow us to avoid
both lying and revealing the truth. However, in general, if we are in harmony with his law, we will be within his divine authority.
In fact, all trade-offs, which are the essence of the economic problem, are the result of sin. Immediate pleasure versus long-term good. The basis of an investment decision. The crux of any collective action problem. The problem of free-riding. Carbon emissions and climate change. Fast food and obesity. Loans and debt. Idleness and unemployment. However, the former part of any trade-off - the immediate pleasure - is never bad in itself. Driving your car, eating a chocolate bar, taking out a loan, going on holiday - are all permissible in themselves. It is the balance that is important. I have blogged on this balance many times. Suffice it to say that when this balance is defiled, the consequences are deleterious. A prime example: we are commanded not to be idle, and yet also to take rest through the Sabbath.
The quest for the ideal balance leads us closer to God. In Heaven, to serve God is also the strategy that bears the most fruit, and indeed this mechanism is available to us on earth, so long as we live by Love and thereby receive Grace. Seek first his Kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you as well.
In economics, according to the Ramsey Macroeconomic Model, humans maximise their utility by smoothing out their consumption over time. However, because humans are selfish, they value present consumption over future consumption and so discount any future earnings. Because human beings are selfish, the imbalances above tend to favour immediate utility over long-term good.
Moreover, agents maximise their utility subject to the transversality condition, which says that time is finite. In other words, it makes no sense to perpetually save (and thereby sacrifice present consumption for future consumption), because eventually we die. Unless we have a massive binge on our death bed, all of the utility of our savings go down the drain unless we consume them eventually. It is important to remember that not only quantity matters: the longer you save, the more you gain, because even with a constant interest rate, the effect is
cumulative.
This applies to Christianity through the idea of sacrifice. In economics, human beings sacrifice, but only for the sake of future utility (in reality, this rational simplification does not hold, because people's actions are often governed psychologically, by emotions, which do not abide by such calculations). To follow the Law of Love, we must live in a state of continual surrender. By doing so, we reconcile deontological and consequential ethics. Why? Because we live forever. We have no transversality condition. By storing up treasures in Heaven, we in fact maximise our total, intertemporal utility, no matter how large our discount factor!
This introduces and interesting debate on 'hedonism', which I will not fully indulge, but will abbreviate. The question posed is the following: if we benefit from it is sacrifice, how can it indeed be sacrifice? My answer is that Sacrifice is God's commandment, and therefore will be rewarded. This is indeed a sign that we are living according to his commandments! In other words, the cost of sacrifice is the result of a fallen system, of which we are no longer bound, thanks to Christ. Our sacrifice, whilst involving earthly discomfort, should in fact delight us! We should revel in it, knowing that the tesing of our faith builds character. Through Christ, Paul learnt to be joyful in any situation, hungry or full, in prison or free. He loved those persecuted him, and he thanked God for putting him in jail. The key to happiness: Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart - which, not coincidentally, will inevitably be delight in the Lord.
Finally, in the Ramsey model, equilibrium can only be reached through a unique 'saddle path' of adjustment. Any digression from this path will lead to either of poverty trap that violates the Euler equation (if too much is consumed in any given period) or a disequlibrium that violates the transversality condition. This again relates to Christianity: the Bible tells us that few find the path to Christ, and moreover, that Christ is the only way to God. We cannot alter this rule. (NB: more on the 'Ponzi-scheme' condition as it applies to Christian evangelism at a different time)
We can see, then, why God's ultimate sacrifice allows us to have eternal life, and conversely, why the prospect of eternal life allows us to respond with a life is sacrifice. How's that for perfection.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Gifts From the Past
Today I submit a post that differs substantially from my previous discussions. Whilst lacking the analytical rigour and insightful perception of my usual blogs, this time I present a narrative, a tesimony even, on something that I feel led to share.
When I was in my early teens, I had a strange and sudden awareness one day whilst walking the dog. I felt that God was instilling me with some sort of psychological gift. The memory is perhaps best captured by the image of 'Neo' in 'The Matrix' being 'plugged in' to computer programmes that instantaneously impart information into his brain. This new-found ability consisted of the externalisation of self-perception: to be able to 'jump out of my own brain' and to see myself in the third-person. This is obviously impossible; even viewing yourself from without does not eliminate the definitional necessity that I must still be perceiving through my own senses or psyche. Hence, this was some sort of recursive, continuous process; I felt that I was able to continually jump out of myself into an 'external self' and then to immediately jump out of that external self into an ex-external self. An image of infinitely concentric circles serves to illustrate. In this way, the ability was one of a process, striving towards some non-human knowledge rather occupying some super-human persona.
The image of Neo performs well as a comparison, because it would probably be possible for Neo to know how to do something without knowing that he could do it (hopefully that was a cogent sentence). In other words, at some point in time, he may find himself in a situation that demands a particular skill, which he is surprised to find that he indeed possesses. He then retrospectively identifies the point in time at which he received this skill. This is indeed what happened to me.
I have an obsessive characteristic in my personality, which has led to both success and to self-destruction in my life. In this way it is not a virtue or vice, but rather a trait that has creative and destructive potential. Indeed, it is often thought that the link between genius and autism is not intellectual, but rather based on the obsessive characteristic of autism that allows a person to concentrate on one task, however menial, for long enough to discover certain patterns, which may in fact be obvious even if previously unknown. Indeed, most 'great theories' seem obvious once they have been discovered. Consider gravity.
After recovering from a debilitating illness, brought on through this obsessive trait, my psychologist remarked that I had displayed a remarkable, and in his experience unique, ability to externalise the problem. Indeed, recognition of the problem (which they say is half the battle) came very early on for me. Recovery then consisted of a battle between the external self, which consciously acknowledged the issue, and the internal self, where the issue lay. I was able to rationalise my own irrationality: to frame it, analyse it, and battle it.
This is obviously a necessary feature of any psychological recovery, especially for sustainability. However, after emerging from this episode in my life, I now look back on that time when I was but 14 years of age, as the point in time that God invested in me the capacity to defend myself from myself. In this way, God saved my life.
God has healed me in much more direct ways since then, which require expansive explication in themselves. However, I feel especially led to record this experience.
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