Incarnation

It’s impossible in today’s world (even if it’s not as noticeable at Gordon College) to avoid interacting with people of other cultures—people who have grown up in a different environment, have a different set of values, and view the world in a vastly different way. Randy Kluver says in his essay, Globalization, Informatization, and Intercultural Communication, “In a globalized world, the political abstractions known as nations are becoming increasingly irrelevant, while the symbolic systems known as nations are continually in flux” (431). It would be ignorant for us, then, not to recognize both the driving values of other cultures and our own ingrained value system.

But simply to recognize these values does about as much for us as recognizing that the color of your roommate’s hair is a different color than your own.  These recognitions and the dialogues that lead to and result from them should serve a greater purpose.

As a graduating communications major, I hope to use my writing to further interfaith dialogue, especially between Muslims and Christians. Whether I end up doing this in the United States or abroad, it’s likely to involve both diverse religious beliefs and diverse cultural and national backgrounds. In this case, successful communication allows Muslims and Christians to really listen to one another, instead of simply preparing to respond.

Religion has gotten a bad name over the years because of its involvement in major world conflicts. However, if religions can work together to do some global good, maybe some of that stigma will give way to a recognition of the need for religion. Ultimately, though, this would involve both (or all) religious cultures arriving at a point where they view the life and beliefs of the other as a valid way of life, whether they agree with it or not. One of the most interesting analogies I’ve heard in service of this idea is the incarnation.

Sherwood G. Lingenfelter, provost and senior vice president at Fuller Theological Seminary, in his book Ministering Cross-Culturally presents Jesus’ incarnation as the ideal of cross-cultural participation. On first glance it’s a common concept that a lot of people would recognize—you adapt to the culture you’re trying to talk with. You become them.  But Lingenfelter emphasizes a more obscure facet of the process. Jesus was also divine. There were some things about his nature that he was not willing to compromise when coming into human form.

This may seem obvious, until you start to apply it. We have to fully know ourselves before any true dialogue can take place. This is more important in religious dialogue than in anything else. After all, any measure of “becoming them” in the context of faith is a scary matter. If we become them in a Muslim community, doesn’t that mean we’re losing some aspect of our own faith?

The solution to this, in Lingenfelter’s mind and my own, is to recognize our own values and where they come from. If we can’t see that some of our values really do stem from our faith, such as love and equality, while others are simply American values like individuality, fully participating in dialogue can be tough. Not only can we end up letting some values essential to the Christian faith slide, but we may find ourselves defending a value that isn’t at all essential to the conversation.

To clarify, my suggestion here isn’t that we put off religious dialogue until we carefully outline our beliefs and values, deciding which ones are expendable and which are essential. Quite to the contrary, I think one of the best ways to discover these essentials is through dialogue itself. We just need to be on the lookout for them.

This type of incarnation—knowing ourselves and putting ourselves in the other’s shoes— I think could do amazing things for our world. When we empathize with people different from us, we can find common values and work together with them, not simply look to tell them about Christianity.

Dawn Gadow

Kierkegaard and the Three Stages of Love

Prelude: Two Caveats

 

1)    The following is by no means an academic endeavor. I would call it a meditation, or perhaps a philosophical fragment. It is not the result of extensive study; This idea came to me while I was walking to the bathroom on the first floor of Jenks from the reference room.

2)    The relationship between my three stages and that of Kierkegaard’s is very superficial. There are several incredible similarities which might not be a coincidence, but which I have left unexegeted for the sake of brevity and time. I really should be doing homework that I’m going to be graded for.

 

The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard had a doctrine that was later named the “Three Stages”. They describe three attitudes toward life; three ways of appropriating oneself to one’s own existence. Though they are not merely lifestyles, these stages determine the meaning and purpose of an individuals life as well as how they live it out. Since Kierkegaard was a Christian philosopher, he believed that the highest stage could only be attained by Christians. Here they are in brief:

 

Aesthetic Stage: The individual lives in immediacy. “At this level one lives entirely for the satisfaction of the moment in conformity with the expectations of the ‘crowd’” (Aiken). For the person in this stage, the highest goal is self-satisfaction, even at the cost of living an authentic, consistent life.

Ethical Stage: The individual breaks away from hedonism and conventionalism and aligns himself to a higher ethical ideal. In this stage, one realizes that there is an eternal, ultimate good and strives to live in accordance to it. Simply put, one discovers that “there’s something more to life than fun (or being really, really, ridiculously good-looking).

Religious Stage: At this stage, the individual realizes that the eternal, ultimate good is not a static system of ethical rules, but a real, living being. One discovers that “there’s someone more to life”. Thus one who lives in the religious stage lives in faith-upheld obedience to God. Since one’s commitment is to a living God, one must at times set aside social conventions (go against the flow), and even “suspend the ethical” for the sake of living in faith.

 

In light of the three stages, I propose that there are three stages in understanding love. Similar to Kierkegaard’s three stages, these three views of love define an individual’s attitude not towards existence, but towards other people and other things. Also similar to Kierkegaard, the third and highest stage can only be attained by an intimate, existential encounter with the real, living God.

 

Aesthetic Love: The aesthetic individual loves in conformity with the expectations of the crowd. He does not know how to think for himself, but only in accordance with the tides of popular opinion. Thus the only object of love the individual is capable of having is the self. There are two ways of living in aesthetic love:

1) The Camel: The lowest form of self-love. The individual bears completely the burden of social convention, loving whatever the crowd loves and enjoying whatever the rest of popular culture enjoys. (cf. Napoleon Dynamite, Tamagotchis, iPods, and Kanye West).

2) The Lion: Upon realizing that he only ascribes value based on self-love, the individual rears his head to break out of this pattern by reacting in total opposition to popular culture (cf. people who use Macs, Zunes, popped collars, and people who participate in the Facebook group “I don’t care how comfortable crocs are, you look like a dumbass”).

 

Soapbox interlude: Realize that no matter how hard you try, you cannot subvert popular culture! You’re either going with the flow or reacting against it; but no matter what you choose, you and your decisions are affected by it. So don’t love or hate products according to popular image. Be stronger than that!

 

Conditional Love (The Child): The individual has risen above convention and has “learned to think for himself”. In this stage, one learns to separate socio-cultural conditions for love from self-serving conditions for love. One ascribes affection to people and things not based popular image, but based on how they serve him (cf. people who use Macs). However, it is still not the highest actualization of love. Because it is conditional, one’s affections in this stage is still based on self-love.

Religious Love: In the highest stage of love, the individual finally breaks free from self-love. In this stage, one does not love something “for”, but “because”. Thus, one does not love for the sake of any of the object’s intrinsic attributes, but simply “because”.

What is the “because” that propels unconditional love? It is the unconditional love that God first showed to humanity through Christ on the cross. “We love because he first loved us” (1 Jn 4.19). The only way we are capable of truly loving others is by coming to grips with the reality of God’s love for us.

Kierkegaard said the opposite of love is not hate, but fear. The reason is because all other lower forms of love are driven by the fear of rejection. Acts of conditional love are done in order to attain approval from others. But only when one understands that God has already ascribed infinite worth to each human being can one finally be free from the fear of rejection. When one is free from fear, one is free from self-love. And only when one is free from self-love can one love unconditionally.

 

Postlude: A Homily

A baby bird will not learn to fly by the objective knowledge of its flying ability. It must take the leap of faith out of the nest and into the unknown. There, seventy thousand fathoms above the ground, it attains the experiential knowledge of how to soar. Likewise, the only way we can come to unconditionally love others is through an existential encounter with the gospel truth of God’s unconditional love for us, as manifest in the person and redemptive work of Jesus Christ. Objective, propositional knowledge of this fact is not enough, because it is not enough to transform one’s feelings of fear into feelings of worth.

Do you struggle from low self-esteem? You bet you do, if you’re still looking for approval through how you live and how you love. What you need to realize is that everything horrible you know about yourself…is true. And yet God still loves you! Live your life in reaction of unconditional love, not in search of it.

 

Sola Deo Gratia

 

Daniel Shih

Nietzsche and Moral Psychology

Moral Psychology is the study of the psychological conditions and preconditions that enable us to act as moral beings. Throughout history, most thinkers have been occupied with defining right and wrong, good and evil. Moral psychology inquires into the part of the human psyche that allows for these concepts to even exist. Thus, instead of asking, “What is right and wrong?” a moral psychologist would ask, “what do we know about human psychology that informs our understanding of right and wrong as well as our ability (or inability) to live according to those principles?” Traditionally, this branch of ethics has been dominated by a handful of philosophers, a club into which Nietzsche has only recently been included.

Of course, as Christians, this branch of study is immensely relevant to our theology, especially our understanding of the doctrines of sin and sanctification. In the reformed tradition, sin is universal and humans are totally depraved. “There is no one righteous, not even one” (Rom 3.10) means that humans lack the ability to live morally apart from the transforming knowledge of the gospel and the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit. This is a radical claim and is a difficult one for non-believers to accept. Certainly no one likes to be told he or she is unable to be a good person apart from becoming a Christian. I am interested in identifying a moral psychology that would provide a naturalistic explanation for this doctrine.

In this article, I will very briefly outline the beliefs of four of the most prominent moral psychologists. I argue that of these four thinkers, Friedrich Nietzsche provides the most tenable system through which sin and sanctification can be explained.

 

The differences between all these moral systems can be boiled down to two issues: The nature of moral principles within an individual and how it motivates one to make moral decisions.

Some argue that the first moral psychologist was Aristotle. According to him, one makes moral decisions based on a “firm and unalterable character”. This character is a complex system of sentiments and emotional responses that determine how an individual acts in specific situations. In order to develop a morally positive disposition, one must practice making moral decisions in order to develop them into habits. These habits contribute to the individual’s entire life, allowing them to exercise proper emotional responses and to reflect intelligently on their inner motives. For Aristotle, the most important factor in developing a virtuous person is his or her childhood upbringing. Thus, one’s parents and childhood educators make the most difference in one’s moral training.

The great skeptic David Hume takes this a step further. He claims that moral nature doesn’t exist and all seemingly moral decisions are simply choices made out of emotion. For Hume, we have no inner moral nature; all our moral actions are motivated by our environmentally-produced psychological affections and aversions. In other words, there is no independently existing law of morality; all that matters in your determination of what is right and wrong is what pleases you and what disgusts you.

For Kant, moral law exists and it can be attained by pure reason. His famous Categorical Imperative (CI) is what he believes to be the universal law by which all rational moral people must live. The CI is obeyed by rationally reflecting individuals; moral motivation has nothing to do with an individual’s nurture or environment. If a person chooses certain actions out of habit that just happen to coincide with moral good, he did not actually make a moral decision. Rather, each time an individual is faced with a moral decision, he or she must choose the right one solely through his rational faculties. Kant calls this motivation the concept of duty.

Nietzsche’s moral psychology goes radically against any of the previous three thinkers. For Nietzsche, what is definitive in determining an individual’s actions is neither habit, emotion, nor reason, but hereditary psychological and physiological traits. He believes that the vast majority of the time people first behave in a certain way and then form moral principles to justify that. The primary determinant of each individual’s behavior is his or her unique genetic stamp, which give that person certain behavioral traits that are very hard to stray away from. Brian Leiter, a prominent Nietzsche scholar, summarized this in the “Doctrine of Types”, which states: “Each person has a fixed psycho-physical constitution, which defines him as a particular type of person” (Leiter 2008). Leiter calls this psycho-physical constitution a “type-fact” and it is a system of unconscious drives and instincts within an individual.

Of course, this is not to say that one’s upbringing and socio-cultural situation does not factor into his morals. There is a complex interplay of nature and nurture, but Nietzsche claims that nurture is far more important. This is backed up by most of the scientific data from the last few decades. It is surprising, but the fact of the matter is in recent psychology research, the idea that parental upbringing is a big factor in the moral development of an individual is going out the door. Nor is this doctrine claiming that humans are incapable of rationally reflecting on their actions. It simply states that most of the time we act first and ask questions later.

 

At first glance, Nietzsche’s claims may seem antagonistic towards Christianity. If our ability to choose right over wrong is already set in stone based on our genetic makeup, how can we have any hope for sanctification? Apart from a supernatural explanation involving the work of the Holy Spirit, it would be impossible for an individual to align his or her moral disposition towards that of Christ’s. Furthermore, how can we be held responsible for our actions, if they have been determined for us since the day we were born by forces beyond our control?

In addressing this last objection, Nietzsche does not claim that all a person’s actions are determined for him from birth in a fatalistic fashion. In fact, his writings scathingly denigrate the deterministic way of viewing the world. He believes that our actions are not primarily determined by rational reflection, but by our unconscious drives and instincts, which have been inhibited by our false conceptions of divinely-imposed moral law.

I think the fact that we are helpless in our genetic disposition towards moral wrong actually comports really well with the sin doctrine. Reformed theology states that in our actions we are completely unable to do good. This is scientifically tenable if we can show that our inability to do good is rooted in a universal defect in our type-facts. According to the reformed theologian Wayne Grudem, humankind’s fall into sin involves a fall in all dimensions of human life, including “our intellects, our emotions and desires, our hearts (the center of our desires and decision-making processes)…and even our physical bodies” (Grudem, Systematic Theology). If the center of our desires and decision-making processes is equated with type-facts, our unique set of behavioral traits, then a fall in that facet of our lives could explain the universal inability of all humans to live morally.

Given this explanation, there is still the difficulty of giving a naturalistic account of sanctification. Perhaps at this point it is appropriate to remember that as humans, we are limited in our intellectual capacity and that it is perhaps not inappropriate to say that the Holy Spirit works by supernatural means. After all, our redemption is not a redemption simply of our spirits, but of our entire bodies in Christ. If, upon accepting Christ as our Lord and Savior, there is a tangible change in our lives, perhaps the change involves a change in the plasticity of our type-facts, enabling us to make morally positive decisions and live “by the fruits of the Spirit”, so to speak.

I am particularly interested in Nietzschean ethics because I believe that it has much to add to our Christian understanding of ourselves and the of human condition . I believe that over history, the person of Nietzsche has been unjustly vilified in Christian circles because of his infamous claim that “God is dead”. Over the last century, his writings have been misunderstood, partially because of its difficulty and partially because of its (incorrect) association with Nazi doctrine. Through this mistreatment and the tendency to construct straw-man understandings of his claims, a Christians have largely left a wealth of deep spiritual insight unmined. It is my hope that we would be able to reexamine the thoughts of this intellectual giant, and use them to build up our spiritual understanding.

 

Sola Deo Gloria

Daniel Shih

Perspectives on Pluralism, Universal Salvation and the Love of God

Universalism is the belief that after death everyone will have salvation no matter what their religion, denomination, actions, or beliefs. It is unorthodox in mainstream Christian churches because scripture seems to contain explicit passages about hell for those who have not “accepted Christ as their personal savior.” The idea of universal salvation has come into the foreground in recent years due to globalization and subsequent contact with those of other faiths. In the past, it was easy to dismiss other religions located across the world, but people can no longer ignore the plurality of religion. They begin to question the “unique” belief structure that their society has built: whose god is true? Would God send most of the world to hell because they were born in the “wrong” time and place or haven’t repeated a formula for salvation? What makes me more enlightened than other earnest people of another tradition?

 

Those who question the traditional doctrine of hell see the inconsistency between a God who is on one hand loving and on the other damning. The topic of universal salvation is hotly contested within the religious world. Eastern religions have no problem affirming that God is at work universally, in whatever tradition one is born into. They liken the religions to alternate paths leading to the same summit, or different lamps with the same light. Monotheistic traditions are more apt to hold on to the particularity of their religions; they believe letting go of exclusive claim on truth undoes the whole basis of their religion. Christianity uses three boxes to outline possibilities about the fate of non-Christians: exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism. Exclusivism emphasizes acceptance of Christ and holds that explicit belief in him is the only escape from hell. Inclusivism says Christ is the only Truth, but salvation is available to others in spite of their religion because God knows their hearts. Pluralism holds all religions to be equally valid paths to God; each contains part of the truth of the divine but not the whole puzzle.

 

The smartest theologians and philosophers cannot agree on the issue of universal salvation, yet it haunts us. People cannot reason their way to God without trusting their experience as well. The infinite cannot be placed in human categories or understood by finite minds, so it is ridiculous to base our opinions solely on “fact.” Those who want to build an airtight case based on the “facts” in the Bible forget that it was written from people’s human experiences of the divine! Every religion was born from an intimate encounter with the Beyond, and humans have gradually built belief structures around that encounter. If we don’t let the power of experience transform rigid belief, we deny the holy spirit’s ability to speak to us. The Bible is a collection of stories where God spoke to a person in order to bring change. There are scripture passages that both support and deny the universalism idea-- we could argue the point indefinitely. There does seem to be one repetitive theme amid passages about hell, however; God is love, is infinitely patient, and wills that everyone be saved. If he desires the salvation of everyone, I believe he will accomplish it. The other alternatives are God as executioner or God enslaved to a “divine justice system” where God wants to save us but is somehow bound by law. Many justify their belief in hell by claiming God gives humans the free will to choose their fate. He does not send them to hell. But in this model, death would have the final victory over God. We are allowed to reject God’s grace, but we cannot separate ourselves from his love. An analogy for this is a child who runs away from home. Her parents cannot take care of her, but she still can’t stop them from loving her. Once a person eventually grasps the depth of God’s love for them, it is nearly impossible to reject grace. Perhaps it happens in life, perhaps after death. When the crowd crucified Jesus, we rejected the grace of God. But God didn’t accept our rejection; he revealed in the resurrection that he has nothing to do with death or violence or the order of this world. He loves us enough to show us a new path of love and reconciliation.

 

Based on an experience of God I had recently, I am convinced that God does and will do the most loving thing in every situation, no matter what it may be. I am not convinced one way or the other about “doctrines” of heaven and hell; are they literal places? Perhaps hell is a place of refining, holy fire where the “false self” is consumed by God’s love. Perhaps it exists figuratively on earth in the evil we commit, in the times we reject God’s grace and in the painful process of being drawn nearer to the divine and further from selfish ambition.  In this model, salvation is fluid—a process of being humbled and called away from the things that burden our planet-- violence, war, and oppression. It is not an altar call or a single sinner’s prayer. Perhaps hell is exactly as traditionalists envision it, but without finality. It’s even possible that there is no afterlife, although that is hard to conceive. I don’t know for certain about inclusivism or pluralism either, only that God is bigger than we know, and his work is not limited by our human constructions of religion. God wills that all creatures come to a closer understanding of him, and works tirelessly like a shepherd searching for their lost sheep so that we might draw near. God does not discriminate against Greek or Jew, Christian or Hindu. His love covers all. I believe he whispers, “Come. Follow me,” so gently that eventually we want to, universally. 

  Sarah Grimes

Despair?

(a reflection by Charles Anderas on his experience abroad in Uganda)

I know it is a common problem of Americans to feel overwhelmed by news: war, AIDS, poverty, disease. As sons and daughters of the Enlightenment, we view these as issues to be solved, progress to be made. If you look at the world this way, you will die. Spiritually, emotionally, socially, you will die. I can relate to this on many levels-- I want to change things. I don't want to see people go on suffering. But what am I to do, not just to do about things, but to do with things? Does joy in suffering exist, as Paul promises?

Well, things changed for me yesterday. I went to the Mukono Health Clinic with my host brother Stephen, who is a medical therapist/counselor. Tuesday is the day when AIDS patients come to be counseled, tested, and treated. Before yesterday I had had hardly any experience with HIV/AIDS. I cared about it in a sort of nebulous sense that comes from unfamiliarity, but enough familiarity to care. Stephen's first words as we arrived on the compound to see people in lines waiting even to get into the clinic: "Everyone you see here is HIV positive."

He showed me his work as he interviewed patients to prepare a report to give doctors a preliminary understanding of how to treat patients. AIDS, as Stephen told me many times, affects every person differently, and each person reacts differently to ARVs, making it all the more difficult to treat. He introduced me to people that have been affected in different ways.

Now, when I think of AIDS, for the rest of my life, I will think of the orphan I met yesterday, whose giant eyes stared up at me as I held his hand. His parents dead, leaving him only HIV as an inheritance. I will think of the woman who had an Opportunistic Infection that caused large growths on her ears that were so painful she could hardly speak or interact with us.

So I will return to the Mukono Health Clinic on Tuesdays for the next semester. I will pray with people, talk to people, help out with whatever they need done. For this, I know, I am woefully inadequate. How could I possibly be any comfort to people whose pain I cannot begin to grasp? I know, however, that I owe something to them now. I can never go back to who I was before yesterday. That is simply not an option. I know, also, that there is not despair in AIDS because AIDS is not an issue to be solved, progress to be made. People live with AIDS, and people can love and be loved, can serve and be served. So I will love and serve those living with AIDS in Mukono, Uganda. I don't know how I will do this, but I will not go alone, knowing there is joy in suffering. And, there is nothing if there is not hope.

This (in part) I believe

View (or listen to) the link, then read Dr. Borgman's brief response below:

http://www.thisibelieve.org/dsp_ShowEssay.php?uid=57258&topessays=1

"Breaking bread together," says Jim Haynes. My favorite times are just such times of breaking of bread, whether inside or outside of church. Jim Haynes is what I'd call a true old-fashioned liberal: liberality of spirit, expansive and inclusive in his view of individual persons, and, I daresay, of nations, religions, and-the-so-forths that follow. I so like a generous spirit, being too often a bit of a crank myself (though very much wanting to be like and do like this here fellow in France).

- Paul Borgman