The Theology of Skittles

This joke is for my Roman Catholic friends (all in fun of course).

The Trinity decided to go on vacation, and the Holy Spirit was trying to think of good ideas.  He suggested, “let’s go to New York.”  The Father objected, “are you kidding, they keep calling me God the mother…it’s frustrating.”  “Okay,” said the Spirit.  “How about Jerusalem?”  The Son chimed in, “oh no, not after last time.”  The Spirit was getting upset by now.  “Fine, what’s YOUR idea?”  The Father and Son said in unison, “let’s go to Rome.”  The Spirit excitedly said, “oh, good idea, I’ve never been there!”

And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. And Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” He was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces and were terrified. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.¹

Today, I would like to take a stab at an allegorical reading.  There has been some debate in recent years within the Evangelical Theological Society as to whether or not allegory of this type conforms to their inerrancy test, so it’s a good thing I’m not a member.

The curious thing about this passage is the phrase “And after six days.”  The gospel of Matthew (arguably) uses such innocuous details as this to convey deeper meanings, and I believe this may be such an occasion.  The disciples have just been told by Jesus why he “must” go and die.²  In this passage, they see what it is he is dying to secure.  Here is my (possibly plausible) interpretation.  The reason Matthew indicates that it was after six days is that the sixth day is the day on which humanity was created.  For that reason, it is after six days that the chosen disciples are given a glimpse of the glorified humanity of Christ (in which all men may share by his death).

What think?

1. Matthew 17:1-8 ESV [↩]
2. Matthew 16:21 [↩]

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. ((Matthew 16:24-25 ESV))

In contemporary Christendom, there is no shortage of moralism.  Particularly in American Protestantism, we excel at creating moral rules and standards.  This has a largely historical cause.  After the enlightenment rejection of miracles (and thus of the gospel of resurrection), churches had to justify their existence somehow, and many chose (and still choose) to do so by focusing their efforts on moral instruction and the pursuit of the perfect society.

The Word has other plans.  He did not come to lay out a series of hoops to be jumped through.  He did not come to create a perfect society.  He came to save men from the power of sin and death and to save His creation.  His call goes out into all the world, “beloved, receive the good news.”  Part of that good news is the paradox we are confronted with here in Matthew 16.  Let’s start with a little context.

The story of the gospel of Matthew has just taken the reader through a rich, thick narrative of Christ’s conflict with (and superiority to) the pharisees.  In Matthew 15, Jesus rebuked the ethical logic-chopping of the pharisees and went about his ministry of teaching and healing.  In Matthew 16, Jesus again rebukes the pharisees when they request a sign.  This is where he makes the enigmatic statement that “an evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah.”¹  He then warns his disciples to beware of the “leaven” of the scribes and the pharisees (an image the disciples fail to ascertain until he has told them twice).  Having given them time to chew on the hard teaching of recent days, Jesus asks them the fatal question with which all men will be confronted at the end of the age: “But who do you say that I am?”²  Simon Peter responds with the confession of the Church: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”³  Now we come to the shocking turn that follows:

From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.⁴

What!?  The Christ, the anointed saviour has come at last…and now he’s going to die!  That can’t be!  We have a nation to rebuild.  We expected something different.  We want to know things like “what is the greatest commandment” and “how often should I forgive my brother.”  We want some “practical” stuff!  Give us the ten steps to a happier family, give us anything, but you can’t just go and die.  “Far be it from you, Lord!”

The Word has other plans.  He came to die, so that death would be put to death.  He came (He who knew no sin) to become sin for us.⁵  He came to be made a captive, so that captivity would be led captive.  God became man, so that men might become one with God.  Thus He explained to the apostles why he must go to Jerusalem and endure the fate of the cross.

In this, He has given us a model.  He calls to the man who wishes to “come after him” (that is, to be his follower or disciple) that he must do three things.  He must first deny himself.  This is the very opposite of man’s desire.  We are all sinful creatures, with our minds turned in on ourselves.  We want to be the center of our own universe.  The disciple of Christ must deny Himself, being made nothing just as His master was made nothing by emptying Himself and taking on human flesh.  Second, he must take up his cross.  The cross represents the pain endured in opposing the power of sin.  The disciple of Christ must endure the pain and scorn of the cross just as His master endured the pain and scorn of a physical cross.  Third, he must follow his master.  He must imitate him in his loving kindess as well as in his “judgmental” preaching.  He must not simply follow his master in the areas in which he agrees with his master, or else He is not truly master.  The disciple is just as much required to follow the Christ who turned up tables and marched along the via dolorosa to a horrible death as he is to follow the Christ who cared for the sick and showed love to the children.  In short, the call of Christian discipleship is the simple yet profound call to come and die.  It is not a call to come and die only in the sense in which the martyrs die (though in their martyrdom they are blessed with a special discipleship), but it is also the call to live a life of death.  The disciple gives of himself to others.  He does not life his “Best Life Now” as the title of Joel Osteen’s famous book so cheerily advertises.  Even in living he dies, but even in dying he lives.

What is the nature of that life which is had in dying to this world?  That will have to wait for my next post.

1. Matthew 16:4 ESV [↩]
2. Matthew 16:15 ESV [↩]
3. Matthew 16:16 ESV [↩]
4. Matthew 16:21-25 ESV [↩]
5. 2 Corinthians 5:21 [↩]

I am a political creature.  I resist the urge to discuss political issues on this blog in favour of a more unified focus on theology and culture.  That does not mean that every political topic is off limits, and just today I read a piece that I think every Christian who is a US citizen ought to read.

Fred Sanders, one of my professors at the Torrey Honors Institute, wrote this piece on his blog.  In it, he gives timeless advice for American Christians seeking to take their civic duties and privileges seriously.

I’ve just registered this blog on Technorati.  Here is a link to my Technorati Profile.

I have not yet viewed the debate that took place at Saddleback between Barack Obama and John McCain (and when I do much of it will not be discussed on this blog because it is not a political blog), but the one clip I have seen deserves some ethical clear-thinking.  Rick Warren asked the candidates when a developing child deserves human rights.  McCain answered, unequivocally, “at conception.”  This is the standard anti-abortion position.  Obama, who has an avidly pro-abortion voting record, used a variation of an ethical dodge often employed by proponents of abortion on demand.  He answered that to unequivocally answer that question “would be above my pay-grade.”  Giving the senator the benefit of the doubt, he may be saying that it is for wiser men to educate him on the question.  However, if one does not know whether or not the baby is considered a life and thus entitled to life, the appropriate position seems to be the anti-abortion position.  A demolition crew does not blow down a building if they aren’t sure whether or not there are people inside.  They could not argue that “no one knows whether or not there are people in that building.”  Caution seems like the default position.

The television industry has become increasingly counter-productive of human flourishing.  It is “indifferent to suffering, insensitive to pain.” ¹  Even amidst the rapid decay of standards of decency across the industry, “reality tv” and “court tv” continue to serve as the armpits of the industry.  By trivializing such life-changing things as law enforcement, personal tragedies, and even the administration of justice, these forms of programming can only be destructive.

It has recently been announced that TruTV (formerly Court TV) will be launching a new series called “The Principle’s Office”, which will depict the discipline of rebellious children by school authorities.  Just when I thought reality TV couldn’t prostitute societal institutions any farther…silly me.

1. Network (directed by Sydney Lumet) [↩]

Stephen Decatur, the famous 19th century US Navy man, has been quoted as saying, “My country, right or wrong.”  While this is only the opinion of one officer and is actually not a perfectly accurate quotation, the spirit of this line has lived in 20th century.  The sentiment expressed is one of submission to authority.  However, as we have learned in the 20th century, this can often only be a mask for compliance with evil.  The film Judgment at Nuremberg reminds us that this was essentially the argument of the Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg.  The argument was that they had a duty to uphold the law rather than to decide whether or not the law ought to be followed.

James Burtchaell summarizes the paradoxical nature of the Nazi defense this way:

By universal testimony, the Nazi extermination programs were accomplished under the cloak of firm authority.  Equally universal was the testimony that it was always by someone else’s authority…The medical people claimed to be working at the behest of the law people; the government stated that the doctors were making their own professional decision.  Lower officials inoked directives from their superiors; higher officials claimed that their subordinates were always exceeding their warrants.  All things were done in the name of the Fuhrer; yet the Fuhrer’s signature never appeared on any death orders. ¹

This defense is truly a retreat.  It is an attempt to denude oneself of moral obligation while placing it on someone else.  It is all to familiar to human beings, as it was made in the first court in defense of the first human sin:

He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.” (Gen 3:11-13, ESV)

It was not a good defense then, it was not a good defense at Nuremberg, and it will not be a good defense in any future trial dealing with crimes committed under governmental authority.

1. Quoted in Plantinga, Cornelius. Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin. 180 [↩]

Last year, I began a research project into the method of theological reflection and the epistemology behind it.  My research resulted in a term paper, but I wanted to go back and revise it someday soon, and I think this coming semester might be my best opportunity to do so.  For that reason, I am beginning this series of blog posts summarizing the research I already did and then adding some other thinkers and arguments into consideration.  The main goal of this exercise is to refresh my memory and stimulate my thinking, but I also would appreciate some interaction from my friends and fellow students.  The thinkers and arguments considered in this series have to do with healthy skepticism of our theological conclusions in light of the nature of God.

The first key thinker we will interact with is Saint Gregory Nazianzen.  Also known as Gregory the Theologian, he was one of the Cappadocian fathers and was a critical thinker in the development of orthodox trinitarianism.  One of the great theological controversies he was engaged in during his life was with the Eunomians.  The Eunomians were a theological sect somewhat akin to contemporary rationalists.  Gregory makes two devastating critiques of them.

First Critique: The Eunomians do not give appropriate respect to theology.

Gregory quotes Saint Paul, accusing the Eunomians of “strife of words.”  This is an important insight to be realized by theologically minded Christians today.  Gregory points out that “Every square in the city has to buzz with their arguments, every party must be made tedious by their boring nonsense.”  I very much doubt that many Christians today would imagine that an excess of theological conversation could trivialize its subject matter.  Gregory puts in such a way that is hard for our egalitarian ears to hear:

Discussion of theology is not for everyone, I tell you, not for everyone - it is no such inexpensive and effortless pursuit.  Nor, I would add, is it for every occasion, or every audience, neither are all its aspect open to inquiry.

The part of this idea I would like to focus on is his contention that not all aspects of theology are open to inquiry.  Gregory follows early church tradition in relegating certain things to mystery.  I believe this to be an interesting contrast to scholastic and later modernist theologies, and the thinkers discussed in these posts follow in this vein.

Second Critique: The Eunomians bring unbelievers into the study of theology.

In our politically correct age, this particular objection seems out of place.  Gregory gives two reasons for this objection:

1. “[Theology] is not for all people, but only for those who have been tested and have found a sound footing in study, and, more importantly, have undergone, or at the very least are undergoing, purification of body and soul.”  Gregory points out the irony of Christians openly discussing theology with pagans by recalling that the pagan religions “would sooner give their blood than disclose certain words to non-initiates.”
2. “Why do we appoint our accusers as our judges?”  When audiences hostile to the Christian gospel are put in a place of judgment over its content, can their be any doubt what the result shall be?

The implication of this critique should not be understated: since theology cannot take place apart from participation in this process of purification and scripture seems to suggest that such purification takes place in context of church life, it would seem that theology cannot take place apart from an ecclesiastical context.  What a refreshing contrast to enlightenment skepticism and its isolated ivory towers!

Gregory’s Positive Contribution to Theological Method

Besides the clear implications of Gregory’s critiques of the Eunomians, the great saint also provides us with other interesting insights that become significant later in the history of theological method.

The first contribution is one that I cannot confirm is original to Gregory (he is just the earliest source in which I have found it).  It is not so much an idea as it is an image.  The image of theology carried on by later thinkers is beautifully put by Gregory:

I eagerly ascend the mount - or, to speak truer, ascend in eager hope matched with anxiety for my frailty - that I may enter the cloud and company with God (for such is God’s bidding).  Is any an Aaron?  He shall come up with me.  He shall stand hard by, should he be willing to wait, if need be, outside the cloud.  Is any a Nadab, an Abihu, or an elder?  He too shall ascend, but stand further off, his place matching his purity.  Is any of the crowd, unfit, as they are, for so sublime contemplation?  Utterly unhallowed? - let him not come near, it is dangerous.

The image continues, but by this time it is clearly developed: the task of the theologian is in some sense analogous to Moses’ climb up Mount Sinai to the place where God is.  We will see the growth of this theme as we progress through these posts.

A second great contribution of Gregory comes from the larger patristic project of interacting with and redeeming classical thought.  Gregory seizes upon a statement of Plato and corrects it in light of his theological paradigm:

“To know God is hard, to describe him impossible,” as a pagan philosopher taught - subtly suggesting, I think, by the word “difficult” his own apprehension, yet avoiding our test of it by claiming it was impossible to describe.  No - to tell of God is not possible, so my argument runs, but to describe him is even less possible.

A third contribution of Gregory lies in the interesting way in which he relates the role of natural theology.  He expresses great contempt for idol worship, since it is the practice in which man takes a lesser thing for his superior.  In contrast, he praises the rational contemplation of the transcendent order and character of the universe which leads to a belief in its designer (essentially the teleological argument), concluding:

Thus God-derived reason, bound up, connected, with the whole of nature, man’s most ancient law, has led us up from things of sight to God.  Let us make a fresh start here.

The last of Gregory’s contribution I wish to focus on is in one clear and succinct statement upon which much of the thought these posts will follow is based.  “No one has yet discovered or shall ever discover what God is in his nature and essence.”  He proceeds from this insight in an interesting way, but I will be saving that for its own post in the future.