April 14, 2022

Ethics, Morals, and Good Friday: A Lesson in Loyalty and Disloyalty

April 14, 2022/ T.J. Gentry

Judas Iscariot (right), retiring from the Last Supper, painting by Carl Bloch, late 19th century

What comes to mind when you think of Good Friday? On the cultural side, perhaps a day off from school, one last Lenten fish fry sponsored by the local Knights of Columbus, or making sure someone knows to bring the ham and deviled eggs to dinner on Easter Sunday. On the religious side, talk of Good Friday usually evokes images of a traitor name Judas, Peter’s three denials of his relationship to Jesus, and the bloody and disfigured body of the Lord hanging lifeless on a Roman cross. What about ethics? What about morals? Do these two words come to mind when you think of Good Friday? Maybe. Maybe not. At the heart of Good Friday, we find poignant though beautiful ethical and moral lessons giving voice to divine grace and love as they whisper and even shout the gospel message. Before I discuss one of those lessons, let’s make sure we understand the overlap and distinctions between ethics and morals.

Most will have a general sense of the terms, maybe even thinking they are synonymous. Insofar as they both relate to matters of right and wrong, good and bad, ethics and morals are similar. However, there is an essential distinction between the terms as they are used today. Speaking of ethics tells of the more theoretical aspects of right and wrong, asking questions about the nature of the good life, duty, obligation, or right actions. For example, if I say that murder is wrong, I make an ethical statement. Morals are a bit different, less theoretical, and more practical. When we speak of morality, we address concerns related to behavior, conduct, and rules for a particular person or society. When I say that it is wrong to take the life of an unborn child, I am speaking about morality. Such a statement certainly has an ethical foundation: murder is wrong. However, when I apply that ethical norm to concerns over aborting a defenseless child, I move from the theoretical to the practical, from ethics to morality. Assuming the similarities and distinctions between ethics and morals are somewhat clearer, how do they relate to Good Friday? Consider one way, one lesson about ethics and morals from the narrative, a lesson drawn from the actions of Judas and Peter: I call it a lesson in loyalty and disloyalty.

Before Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss, he walked with the Lord for three and a half years. He ate with Jesus, witnessed the miracles, sat at his Rabbi’s feet, and listened to the Truth speaking the truth. Judas was entrusted with the money and ministered alongside the other disciples. Yet, in the end, after letting Jesus wash his feet and Satan fill his heart, he betrays the Son of God for thirty silver pieces. Then he hung himself. Peter was the self-appointed spokesman of the Twelve, the first to verbalize that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God. Peter was the only one who got out of the boat and attempted to walk on water, and he didn’t hesitate to draw his sword to protect Jesus and cut away Malchus’s ear. Yet, when pressed, his boldness evaporated, and his heart filled with cowardice. Though warned ahead of time by Jesus, he still did it; Peter denied his King not once, not twice, but three times. But he didn’t give up. Did he grieve? Yes. Was he broken? Absolutely. He was also one of the first two disciples at the empty tomb, and he didn’t fear jumping from his fishing boat into the water as he rushed to shore to embrace his risen Savior.

What might we learn from these two men, both loved by Jesus and part of His handpicked group of leaders? What do we learn as we consider that Judas went into the darkness and never returned, while Peter also went into the night but returned to the one who said He was the Light of the World? We learn about ethics and morals, loyalty and disloyalty. As an ethical consideration, loyalty relates to the duty and obligation of support and allegiance. Ethical loyalty is not blind sycophantic devotion divorced from an objective standard of goodness and its corollary oughts. Far from such a perversion of virtue, ethical loyalty centers on supporting and giving allegiance to a principle more than a person, or, in the case of Jesus, to the Person who is the living principle of the good and right. Peter eventually understood this and acted accordingly when Judas did not, bringing us to the morality of loyalty. When we realize that morality is the practical expression of ethical concern, we see just how moral Peter was contrasted to Judas’s tragic immorality. Because Peter committed himself to the ethic of loyalty, he was able to rise after falling, to grieve and repent until he eventually made his way back to Jesus. This is the point of Jesus asking Peter three times if he loved Him that morning on the beach after the resurrection. Each question Jesus asked was salve applied to Peter’s self-inflicted wound of temporary disloyalty. Each time Jesus responded with the commands to Peter to feed and tend the His sheep, Jesus was reminding Peter that He was loyal to him and willing to trust him once more: Jesus and Peter teach us the ethics and morals of loyalty.

Sadly, we learn from Judas the ethics and morals of disloyalty, a lesson in unfaithfulness, a lesson in violating allegiance and duty. Because Judas abandoned his ethical commitment to remain loyal to Jesus (yes, I do believe Judas fell away from something, from Someone he did know and at one time even love, and that Someone never stopped loving Judas), he willingly corrupted his morality and made himself subject to even greater corruption by Satan. Judas chose disloyalty when he could have chosen loyalty. He decided to grieve and die instead of grieve and return to seek the Lord’s mercy and live. There was room for another in Peter’s boat that morning, and Judas could have jumped in the water with Peter had he still been alive. He could have sought mercy from Jesus and even been restored, but he didn’t. It’s not that Judas could not. He would not. His compromise and fall into ethical disloyalty led to moral disloyalty. His fall is a poignant reminder of the ethics and morals of disloyalty.

Lord’s Supper Meditation – Siblings of the High Priest

April 01, 2022/ Elton Higgs

A Twilight Musing

The book of Hebrews presents us with a profound treatment of Jesus Christ as our High Priest under the New Covenant, and the truth embodied therein is relevant to our observance of the Lord’s Supper. Unlike any high priest under the Old Covenant (the Law of Moses), Jesus was appointed High Priest apart from any qualifications of lineage, in the image of the Old Testament character, Melchizedek, priest and king of Salem. The writer of Hebrews (see especially chapters 5-7) goes to some length to describe and establish the relationship between this mysterious figure and the Messiah. We may see in our observance of the Lord’s Supper a reflection of this unique priesthood of our Lord Jesus, as well as an affirmation that we are privileged to participate in that priesthood.

It seems presumptuous to speak of our participating in the priesthood of Christ, but Jesus paved the way for us to be identified with Him in that way by entering into and participating in the realm of our suffering. The writer of Hebrews presents it thus:

Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Heb. 2:17-18)

It was God’s will that the Incarnate Son should be made “perfect through suffering,” so that “he who sanctifies and those who are sanctified [would] all have one source”; and “That is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers” (Heb. 2:10-11). Therefore, having a high priest who “has been tempted as we are, yet without sin, let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:15-16). Yea, even as Jesus the perfect High Priest entered the Holy of Holies “as a forerunner on our behalf” (Heb. 6:20) to offer Himself as the unblemished and eternally sufficient sacrifice, we “have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain” (Heb. 10:19-20)

Thus it is that, in the likeness of Melchizedek and our Lord Jesus, we are identified as priests in the Kingdom of God, not by any right of lineage or other qualifications, but entirely by the grace and appointment of God. Through Jesus, we “like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (I Pet 2:5). As we partake of the elements of bread and wine in the Lord’s Supper, we identify with Jesus being both priest and sacrifice, accepting the admonition of Paul in Rom. 12:1 to present our bodies “as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”

Dr. Elton Higgs was a faculty member in the English department of the University of Michigan-Dearborn from 1965-2001. Having retired from UM-D as Prof. of English in 2001, he now lives with his wife in Jackson, MI. He has published scholarly articles on Chaucer, Langland, the Pearl Poet, Shakespeare, and Milton. Recently, Dr. Higgs has self-published a collection of his poetry called Probing Eyes: Poems of a Lifetime, 1959-2019, as well as a book inspired by The Screwtape Letters, called The Ichabod Letters, available as an e-book from Moral Apologetics. (Ed.: Dr. Higgs was the most important mentor during undergrad for the creator of this website, and his influence was inestimable.

Four Reasons Jesus Died

March 30, 2022/ Jonathan Pruitt

Editor’s note: This article was originally written for Foundations.

Sometime around 33 A.D., in the springtime, Jesus was crucified on a cross. He endured the most brutal and tortuous form of capital punishment in perhaps all of human history. Today, many people throughout the world recognize the Cross as the symbol of the Christian faith. This is appropriate since the Bible clearly teaches that the death of Jesus is absolutely central to the gospel, the good news which Jesus tasked His followers to believe and proclaim. The Apostle Paul says, “that Christ died for our sins” is of “first importance.” But what is the meaning of the Cross? Why did Jesus have to die?

Christians have reflected on this question for nearly two thousand years. In that time, the church has uncovered several different reasons for the Atonement or death of Christ. These different reasons are ultimately harmonious and complementary; they are like the facets of a diamond. Each facet reveals something important and beautiful about the meaning and purpose of the Cross.

Facet 1: Jesus’s Death as Ransom

Key verse: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Mark 10:45

The Bible tells us that Jesus’s death was a ransom. The Old Testament provides some context for the biblical notion of “ransom.” Perhaps the most vivid example comes in the book of Ruth. In this story, we meet Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi. Ruth’s husband had died, as well as her sons, and she was left alone and suffering. Fortunately, the law outlined the role of a “kinsman redeemer,” who would be legally obligated to redeem by ransom a family member who had been sold into slavery (Lev. 25:47-55). Boaz ransomed or redeemed Ruth, buying back her former husband’s property and marrying Ruth, saving her from a life of poverty and hunger. Throughout the Old Testament, “to ransom” often has the sense of “buying back.”

In the New Testament, Jesus says that He has come to give his life as “ransom for many.” Paul says that Jesus “gave himself a ransom for all” (1 Tim. 2:5-6). But who did God pay ransom to? Some have suggested that God paid Satan the ransom, but that is not supported by the Bible. Instead, we should think of God as satisfying the demands of His own righteousness in order to be our redeemer; He “bought us back” so that we might be free.

Facet 2: Jesus’s Death as Victory over Evil

Key verse: “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” (Colossians 2:14).

The Bible also tells us that by his death, Jesus gained victory over the powers of evil. The very first prophecy in the Bible foreshadows this victory. After God created Adam and Eve, they were tempted by the serpent, who is Satan (cf. Rev. 12:9). Though Adam and Eve sinned, in Genesis 3:15, God said that a descendant of Eve would someday “crush the head” of the serpent. God promised that He would decisively defeat the devil through a human person. Christ, who is both fully God and fully man brought this about. By his death, Jesus freed humanity from the power of Satan. But Christ also demonstrated his power over death itself. Though Christ died on the Cross, the Father raised Him again, proving that death itself is “swallowed up in victory” (1 Cor. 15:54). By the Cross, Christ defeats both sin and death; He crushes the head of the serpent. As the Bible says, “thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 15:57).

Facet 3: Jesus’s Death as Moral Example

Key verse: “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” (1 Peter 2:21)

The Cross also shows us what God is like and how we should live. The Bible says that Jesus died for us because He loves us (cf. Rom. 5:8). In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells a parable about a shepherd who left his entire flock to seek and save a single lost sheep. The shepherd searches for the missing sheep until he finds it and he “joyfully puts it on his shoulders” (Luke 15:5). Like the shepherd, Jesus says that He has come to “seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10). The Cross shows us the love of God.

The Cross also shows us what sort of life we should live. By dying on the Cross, Jesus shows that He is obedient to God’s will. And Jesus shows us how we ought to love others. Love is not merely a feeling and godly love may require personal sacrifice. Like Jesus, we may need to give of ourselves, whether that be our money, time, or even our lives. But, we also know that God sees what we do, that He is a just God, and He will reward us for following his commandments (1 Pt. 1:4).

Facet 4: Jesus’s Death as Substitutionary Atonement

Key verse: “God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness…” (Romans 3:25a).

Jesus also died as a substitute for sinners. In the Old Testament, Israel sacrificed animals to cover their sins. Once a year, on the Day of Atonement, the High Priest would slaughter a goat as a sin offering. This was for the “wickedness and rebellion of the Israelites–all their sins” (Lev. 16:21). This did not take away the guilt of sin (cf. Heb. 10:4), but it does show us that the “wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23).

Sin is a great offense to holiness and justice of God (cf. Hab. 1:13). God could not simply forgive sin because He is a God of justice. He would be like a judge who let a convicted murderer go free. A judge that ignores the law would be no judge at all. But because God loves us, He paid the penalty of sin Himself by sending His Son to die in the place of sinners. In this way, God shows Himself to be “just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus” (Rom. 3:26). God is God of holiness and of love; both features of God’s character are seen in the Cross of Jesus Christ.

Conclusion

Jesus died on the cross for many reasons. Each of these reasons reveals something about who God is and why Jesus had to die. Jesus died to ransom and redeem us from death. He died to demonstrate His power and ultimate victory over sin and death. The Cross shows us that God loves us and wants us to live a life of obedience to God and love for others. Finally, Jesus’s death makes atonement for our sin so that we can be right with God. Without the Cross, we would be doomed to suffering and death. But because of it, we can live forever with God.

The Managing Editor of MoralApologetics.com, Jonathan has been a vital part of the Moral Apologetics team since its inception. Currently, he is the E-Learning Project Manager at ICM. He also serves as adjunct instructor of philosophy for Grand Canyon University and Liberty University. He also is affiliate faculty at Colorado Christian University. Prior to these positions, he was ordained as a minister and served as spiritual life director. He is the author or co-author of several articles on metaethics, theology, and history of philosophy. With a Master’s in Global Apologetics and a graduate of Biola’s Master’s program in philosophy, he recently finished his doctoral dissertation in which he extends a four-fold moral argument from mere theism to a distinctively Christian picture of God. Jonathan, his wife Sara, and their two children presently live in Lynchburg, Virginia. You can find his personal website at JonathanRPruitt.com

Poems for Passion Week: Perspectives and Choices

March 31, 2021/ Elton Higgs

The Denial of Saint Peter, an oil-on-canvas painting by Gerard Seghers, dating to around 1620–1625 and now held by the North Carolina Museum of Art. — *The Denial of Saint Peter*, an oil-on-canvas painting by Gerard Seghers, dating to around 1620–1625 and now held by the North Carolina Museum of Art.

The poems below represent various responses by several of those who were a part of the drama of Passion Week. Some were involved through long association, others seemingly by accident, but all by God’s design. We have a range of responses: jaded cynicism, desperate guilt, cool hypocrisy, stubborn self-will, perplexed or abashed enlightenment. All of the speakers’ lives have been profoundly changed by their encounter with Jesus, but whether for good or ill is being determined by their own choices. And as we overhear their thoughts, we find that we, too, are challenged to examine our responses to the suffering Christ, and this process is reflected in the last poem of the set, “The Final Step.”

COCK-CROWING

("And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the Lord's words . . . ." Luke 22.61

Grey dawn

Gone,

But day

Still waits.

Cock-crowing

Flowing

Flashing

Tearing

Through anguished heart.

Part

Of me

Is dead--

The thread

Of boasting, knowing,

Throwing words about

Is snapped,

And dangling ends ensnare the dawn.

Dark my heart since dawn

And dark the curtain drawn

Across my soul

By fear which stole

My light away.

But day must come.

The One who prophesied the broken thread

And gazed on new-made shreds

Can knit my soul and turn

Cock's call to Light indeed.

It needs my Master's face

To make cock-crowing

Both breaking

And making

Of dawn's first rays.

A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE

(Matt. 27:1-10)

They were exceedingly careful

In handling blood-money;

They picked it up gingerly,

And debated what,

In conscience,

Could be done

With the price of another man's life.

They provided

For the burial of the poor

With the rejected silver,

Then busily turned

To the murder

Of the man it had bought.

SON OF PERDITION

(Matt. 27:3-5)

Did all the powers conspire

To make me plant that kiss?

And why did what He sowed among the Twelve

Bear bitter fruit in me alone?

I was called and sanctified

And given power to exorcise—

Even held the purse for all the rest.

He alone could see the secret fires

That burned my soul away,

And yet He left me to my course

And urged me from His presence

In the Upper Room.

My doom is His to bear as well;

This day we meet in hell.

He let himself be killed,

Poured out the ointment

Meant as alms for all,

While I, at least, have

Dared to test my worth

And act my will.

Even now,

When emptiness engulfs me,

I cannot be still

Beneath the scourge of God;

I shall die on a tree

Of my own devising.

PILATE'S QUANDARY

(John 19:4-16; Matt. 27:24)

The gods lurk everywhere,

Even, perhaps,

In this wretched Nazarene!

How can I judge the judgment

Of this world

On one whose very presence

Scorns the power of death?

The breath of other-worldly royalty

Stirs upon his lips

And blows my threats away.

The people shout for blood

And wait upon my word.

Their guilt is greater--

So he said--

But mine is great enough,

And leaves no room

For subtle sophistry.

If "truth" has brought him here,

Then "truth" will have to save him--

But not through me.

Long ago I banked the fire of truth

That I might not be consumed.

The open flame is in his eyes,

And brooks no compromise.

I turn my face

And call for a basin

Of lukewarm water.

Simon of Cyrene Takes the Cross

(Luke 23:26)

But I was only looking on!

No lover of this miserable Nazarene,

Who pushed his truth too far

And tempted power to kill.

The cross he bears

Is self-inflicted shame and pain.

I have no part in this

Except conscripted brawn!

--Heavier than it looks;

A burden more than wood.

Amazing

That he bore the thing this far,

And carries still

A weight He cannot share.

Nicodemus, Post Mortem

(John 3:1-21; 7:45-52; 19:38-42)

His words are done, and now He rests,

A fragrant corpse in a rich man's tomb.

Lifted up, indeed—but are we healed?

The night He chided me for darkened mind

Is not behind me yet,

For this death no more

Than second birth I grasp.

How can earth receive

A body so unlike itself?

Not spice nor worthy grave

Can honor Him, nor rescue us,

But only words of life I heard

When cowardly I went by night.

No words now—but pregnant death!

That brings us to the womb again

And begs our souls to breathe anew

The air His Spirit stirred!

Both birth and death are buried now

In the Word that does not die.

Touching Thomas

(John 20:1-29)

Why should I have touched His wounds,

Who asked a measure more than those

Who only saw, and made His peace their joy?

Still others, seeing not, will have His touch.

And I, who walked with Him and shared

A thousand days of common ground,

But ran away when He was taken off

To bear the wounds I now have touched--

These wretched hands have felt the anguish of

The wounds He took for me.

Little did I know that what I asked

Was sharing in His pain.

Yet in his love for me, He let

My probing hands renew the desecrating

Thrust of nails and spear;

And now I know that all along

His sufferance of our selfish, grasping fingers,

Seeking only fleshly touch,

Was of a piece with baring all His wounds.

How far He had to reach

To let me touch His side!

THE FINAL STEP

(Mark 14: 32-42)

I have slept in Gethsemane,

Lacking the sense

Of immanent pain

My Master bears.

His sorrow

Has been my pillow,

And I have slumbered

In the shadow

Of a dying God.

Because I cannot look upon

The final step that Love must walk,

He kneels alone,

And trembling

Takes the proffered cup

For Him and me.

"Wake up!" He says;

"Though you could not watch with me—

Though you could not

Embrace my task—

I have met my fear alone,

To seal the bonds of brotherhood,

That we might live at one."

January 16, 2019

Mailbag: Does Christianity Fail as a Moral Guide?

January 16, 2019/ Randy Everist

Editor’s note: This reply is part of a longer conversation. The first part may be found here. Here Randy replies to Heath’s latest comment:

Moral Apologetics: Thank you kindly for your lengthy response and interest. I admit I am somewhat flattered by this. You wrote a long reply here and I read through it several times. But in the end I found it unpersuasive. The original premise “If humanity’s deep and unshakeable moral intuitions are correct, the “Morals of the Story demonstrates that the rational observer should embrace Christian theism in response.”

The rational observer would first question the premise that humanity has ever held “deep and unshakeable” moralities. The historical record just doesn’t support this. I hope that sometime in the future we will have such deep, unshakeable morals. But clearly we do not.

Christian theology, in my opinion, has been an abject failure as a moral guide. I find it impossible to believe that a world filled with evil is the work of an Author combining infinite power with perfect goodness and righteousness. I find Christianity to be among the greatest enemies of morality, first by setting up factitious excellencies— belief in creeds, devotional feelings and ceremonies not connected to the good of humankind. These are accepted as substitutes for genuine virtues.

And then there is the problem of a redeemer. In this unseemly dogma, the son of god suffered and “died” for our “sins.”

Vicarious virtue. If I owe Paul money and god forgives me, that doesn’t pay Paul.

Hello Heath,

I have read your response to the answer Jonathan gave and thought I would chime in!

The original premise is an if-then conditional, meaning that someone can affirm it even if the antecedent (the “if” part) is false; one should really only reject the premise if you think the moral intuitions are correct but that people shouldn’t embrace Christian theism in response (or, rather, are not rational in doing so). This means that questioning whether there is such a morality isn’t, strictly speaking, relevant to the truth of the original premise.

It seems your argument against objective morality is that history doesn’t support this, and we “clearly” do not have them. Perhaps you have misunderstood the original claim. The original claim is simply that the common human experience is that there is some X such that X is good, and there is some Y such that Y is evil, and so on. The claim is not that we all share the same content of those moral beliefs (as that is what is historically false). In fact, it seems you implicitly recognize there is a perception of evil and good when you later claim the world is “filled with evil”—how could it be filled with something that so clearly does not exist? The original claim is that if our intuitions are correct, then Christian theism is the way to go—and our intuitions are that some things are really good and some really evil. Even if we’re mistaken about the implications—the content—it doesn’t follow that we’re mistaken about the reality of the categories at all. In fact, if we reject the categories of good and evil, then an interesting result is that we’ve never made any moral progress: it makes no moral difference whether we have African-Americans as slaves or not; it makes no moral difference whether we bully homosexuals for fun or not. The (morally horrible) list goes on.

The next claim is that Christianity has failed as a moral guide. That is, Christianity has failed to tell us the correct ways to live. You list the problem of evil, but this isn’t directly relevant to this claim of Christianity being a moral guide (it could turn out that someone who is deeply evil or hypocritical could nonetheless give you great moral advice). Within this same claim, you mention that “belief in creeds, devotional feelings and ceremonies” are “not connected to the good of human kind.” But why think this? It seems you suggest these are “substitutes for genuine virtues.” But Heath, remember, your view commits you to saying there are no virtues! But in any case, we can amend the claim to saying that if there were virtues, the ones that Christianity would espouse are replaced by creeds, feelings, and ceremonies. But the mere fact that Christianity embraces creeds, feelings, and ceremonies doesn’t entail that they replace any virtues whatsoever! In fact, there is a long and rich tradition, both intellectual and existential, of virtue ethics and living the right kind of Christian life. I’m afraid you may be taking late 20th and early 21st-century stereotypes of Western Christianity and applying them to the entire foundations of the church.

But let us also not forget that these kinds of activities do not at all seem to be divorced from the good of human kind. Consider the creeds: the creeds encapsulate essential Christian doctrine, and reinforce common but perhaps non-essential doctrines. From these creeds and their entailments and associated doctrines, we commit to believe and practice the idea that all are made in the image of God, that Jesus came to live among us in the ultimate act of love and sacrifice for humans, that we should be involved in caring for the poor (see much of the Old Testament and James 1), and that we ought to live in community with others’ needs placed before our own (Philippians 2:4). Next, let us consider “devotional feelings.” It’s not perfectly clear to me what is meant here, but I suspect the idea of reading one’s Bible and praying—perhaps even having an emotional experience while doing so—is in view. If so, I can assure you that many people have had their attitudes and conduct changed by these habitual activities. Given that none of us is a social island, becoming a virtuous person does in fact connect to the good of all. Although I am not sure what ceremonies you reference, I can say that participating in ecclesiastical activities is designed to bring us closer to each other (and hence our communities) and closer to our God. This brings us to the last point: if Christianity is true, then God is the highest good (and its source). Being involved with and close to him is the highest good, and will in turn precipitate the highest goods if we do so.

I’d like to return to the problem of evil. Your formulation is apparently that, given omnipotence and omnibenevolence, the world should not be “filled” with evil. I take “filled with evil” to mean something like “there is a large amount and high degree of evil in the world.” One of the common responses to this is called a “free-will defense.” People have freedom, and they sometimes (often!) exercise it for evil instead of the good. Omnipotence does not entail the ability to do the logically impossible, and forcing someone to freely do something certainly qualifies. If a loving relationship requires freedom to enter it (as I and many others think it does), then what this means is that God typically allows free choices to be made, and God cannot force a free decision (since this isn’t a thing to be done, and omnipotence entails the ability to do all things). The result is the world we have. But the good news is we aren’t left with such a world: the sacrifice of Jesus Christ is the “down payment” ensuring that one day the evils of the world will be rectified. One day, God will make everything right: this is referred to as redemption and restoration. Christian theology provides for the restoration of all that had once gone wrong, and redemption for those who have wronged each other and God; how beautiful is that?

This leads us to what you have called “the problem of a redeemer.” You have stated that “If I owe Paul money and god forgives me, that doesn’t pay Paul.” True enough. But the basis of that forgiveness is Christ’s paying the penalty for sins. So perhaps you mean if Christ pays the penalty for sins but I sin against another human (by, say, stealing her wallet), this doesn’t give her back her money. True enough again! All sins are ultimately against God (in other words, stealing the wallet is against the woman, but also against God). The penalty for sin is separation from God; the remedy is life through the Son of God. The sin is paid for by Christ; if a person does not accept, they endure separation from God. Suppose you do not accept and are separated by God. Justice is served since you are “serving your sentence.” Suppose you do accept, and restore her wallet. Justice is served, since Jesus died in your place and he had lived a perfect life on the Christian story; further, the woman has her wallet. Suppose you are unable to restore her wallet. The good news is that this affects your justice in no way; Christ’s perfect sacrifice is still perfect. What about her? She’s in the same boat—she can accept or reject Christ. If she accepts him, the effects of being with God forever far outweigh anything that can happen in this life. If she rejects him, it will be due to sins that she will be separated from God (for example, the sin of understanding and yet rejecting Jesus).

So, to recap, we’ve seen there isn’t a reason against accepting that we have the sense that there are objective categories of good and evil, that Christianity does contribute to the good of human kind, the problem of evil has a reasonable response dealing with creaturely freedom and the expected restoration of all things, and that salvation is offered through the perfect sacrifice of the God-man, Christ Jesus. I hope this at least points you in the right direction, and if you are interested, I’d love to talk more!

Randy