What Can Christians Say about the Pandemic? A Response to Rosaria Butterfield

What Can Christians Say about the Pandemic .jpg

The coronavirus pandemic has brought fresh fodder to a question many struggle with: how can a good God allow such pain and suffering? Is he really not as good as we thought? Or maybe he’s too weak to prevent it? In the face of such complexities, some abandon belief in God altogether. Others find this problem of evil a stumbling block to belief in the first place. These are pressing questions, and not only on an intellectual level. For many who have lost loved ones or are battling the virus themselves, those out of work or left lonely from social distancing, the answers to these questions mean the difference between hope and despair.

For this reason, I was discouraged to read Rosaria Butterfield’s recent post over at Desiring God, “Can the Pandemic Be an Answered Prayer?” Butterfield most likely didn’t choose the title, but even still, her article answers the question with a resounding yes. In attempting to square the existence of this physical evil with the existence of a good God, Butterfield has unfortunately flattened the distinction between God’s redemptive use of a tragedy and the nature of the tragedy itself. In so doing, she implies that an unmitigated evil is actually an unqualified good.

Many are familiar with Butterfield’s dramatic conversion story, which testifies to the role of hospitality in evangelism. She herself has been intentional to carry on such hospitality in her own ministry. About eight years ago, Butterfield’s family moved into a progressive area so her husband could pastor a church there. The family prayed for service opportunities in the community but made little headway, as no one came to the barbecues or block parties they arranged. Instead, they were met with suspicion and even found a church sign vandalized.

COVID-19 turned all that around. With the food shortages and shelter in place orders, Rosaria and her daughter began delivering food to many of her neighbors on behalf of a local community supported agriculture program. Additionally, their church made its building available as a distribution center. Folks who once turned away from them on the street now welcomed them into their homes and even asked for help and prayer.

I do not doubt Butterfield’s account. The pandemic has certainly made people experience their limited human resources and vulnerabilities in new ways. And it’s a blessing that the family and church stepped up to love and serve them as Christ commands. What troubles me is Butterfield’s suggestion that, for these reasons (and some others she mentions[1]), COVID-19 is something for which we should be thankful, a good gift to us and a means of God glory:  

“Giving thanks to God for everything, including COVID-19, humbles us — deeply. It reminds us that God’s providence is perfect and our point of view flawed. Because God is good, just, and wise, all the time and in every circumstance, then COVID-19, for the Christian, must be for our good and for God’s glory.”

There is some truth mingled in with Butterfield’s words here, which makes teasing out her missteps tricky. We are called to be thankful in all circumstances (I Thess. 5:18[2]), and we are surely limited creatures, unaware of the fullness of God’s activity in this world. As Butterfield also notes, God is all good, all knowing, and all powerful. But it does not follow that everything that occurs in this fallen world is in itself good. Moreover, it’s a small, capricious god indeed who requires the suffering of millions in order to be gloried.

Empathy with our suffering neighbors demands that Christians reckon with the problem of evil, not to mention that our own theology will be the poorer for lack of an adequate account. This is always important, but perhaps now during this pandemic more than ever. But as we think this question through, our central convictions about who God is must remain intact. He is a God of infinite love, incarnate in Christ Jesus, and wildly imaginative in his redemptive purposes and plans. God desires our flourishing and invites us to a life of shalom, what Cornelius Plantinga describes as “[t]he webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight.”[3]  

Butterfield’s account, on the other hand, offers up a god I don’t recognize in the Christian scriptures, one who inflicts suffering on the global population in answer to a family’s prayer to feel more wanted and useful in their neighborhood by unleashing a pandemic. Again, I rejoice that Butterfield’s family could serve her community and that the pandemic opened the eyes of many to their own insufficiencies and need for grace. But that redemptive twist is the blessing; the love and service in answer to these human needs is God’s good gift, not the pandemic itself.

It’s crucial to make this distinction—otherwise, despite Butterfield’s early protestation, God does get cast as the author or cause of evil. My aim here is not to offer a theodicy, an explanation for why God allows evil. I’ll leave that to others better equipped to do so. Frankly, I have no idea why God permitted the novel coronavirus to unleash such havoc on the world, and any attempt of mine to explain would ring hollow and may even add pain to those already suffering its terrible effects.

What I do know, however, is that none of these sufferings go unnoticed by God. He is el Roi, the God who sees the needy (Gen. 16:13); Jehovah Jireh, our provider (Gen. 22:14). What else is the Bible but an account of God’s attentive and intervening presence in humanity’s sufferings? He neither causes nor desires our fallen condition and its attendant afflictions. To rescue us from it, God enters into that suffering with us, but not for the sake of suffering alone. As Butterfield herself notes, referencing 1 John 5:4, Christ is our promise that all manner of evil let loose in this world—coronavirus included—has been, is being, and will be overcome. The whole of salvation history tells of God’s restorative work, to recreate what he established in Eden.

There are no pat answers in the face of evil. But there is love—a love that won’t let evil have the last word. The cosmos, no less than mankind, is being set right. This redemptive love does involve suffering, but not in the way Butterfield envisions it. It doesn’t cultivate evil to get our attention or enable our ministry. Rather, God’s holy, sacrificial love takes evil with such dreadful seriousness that it requires nothing less than the cross to rectify. Indeed, to equivocate between the evil from which God rescues us and his loving means of rescue, to take one for the other, is ultimately to understand neither.


mbphoto.jpg

Marybeth Davis Baggett lives in Lynchburg, Virginia, and teaches English at Houston Baptist University. Having earned her Ph.D. in English from Indiana University of Pennsylvania, Marybeth’s professional interests include literary theory, contemporary American literature, science fiction, and dystopian literature. She also writes and edits for Christ and Pop Culture. Her most recent publication was a chapter called “What Means Utopia to Us? Reconsidering More’s Message,” in Hope and the Longing for Utopia: Futures and Illusions in Theology and the Arts. Marybeth's most recent book is The Morals of the Story: Good News about a Good God, coauthored with her husband, David.


Notes:

[1] Butterfield, whose conversion story involves transitioning from a lesbian lifestyle, also points to the disruption of the annual gay pride march as another reason to be grateful for the coronavirus. This myopic view selectively ignores the manifold repercussions of the pandemic, which of course has disrupted all manner of events—from the holy to the scandalous and everything in between.

 

[2] Butterfield also references Ephesians 5:20 here, which admonishes Christians to “Giv[e] thanks always for all things to God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” However, in context, the phrase “for all things,” is best understood as those good gifts God provides, not “in its widest possible extent” to include evil (see the Expositor’s Greek Testament commentary here: https://biblehub.com/commentaries/ephesians/5-20.htm).  

 

[3] Cornelius Plantinga, Jr., Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdman’s, 1995, 10.

Why God's Triune Nature is the Foundation of Morality

WHy God's Triune Nature is the Foundation of Morality(1).jpg

From Crash Course Apologetics:

In a previous interview I did with Adam Johnson, he critiqued Dr. Eric Weilenberg's metaethical model. In this interview he defends his own model, which is a new and distinctively Christian.

Link to my previous interview with Adam https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fs_t0...

 
 

Easter and Ecclesiology

Easter and Ecclesiology.jpg

By now, you have probably been inundated with articles surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic. Some articles have told you about the dangers of the virus and why you should heed the advice of the CDC, whereas other articles have claimed that the pandemic is nothing more than a governmental conspiracy aimed at bringing forth socialism into the nation.

But one of the greatest challenges to come out of the COVID-19 pandemic is a theological question that has been posed to the Church. The Church[1] has been unable to meet in person. However, due to the advances in technology, churches across the nation and the world have met virtually through online services and alternative styles, including drive-in services. The question has been asked, “Are these still church services?” An even bigger theological question raised is, “Who is the church?” These questions are part of the theological branch known as ecclesiology or theology of the church.

As we approach the Easter season, many churches will find themselves unable to meet in person. However, does this mean that the Church is no longer in operation? To answer this question, we might consider Jesus’ provocative statement from John 2:19: “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it up in three days.” Jesus had challenged the disciples and Jewish leaders early in his ministry. It was something that resonated with both. The Jewish leaders exclaimed, “This temple took forty-six years to build, and you will raise it up in three days?” (John 2:20). The disciples only fully understood his message after the resurrection had transpired and the leaders used his message as fodder to fuel Jesus’s condemnation.  Oddly, the message is not included in the Synoptic Gospels. However, it is reflected in the accusation of the Jewish leaders against Jesus during his trial, saying, “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple made with human hands, and in three days I will build another not made with hands’” (Mark 14:58). Even on the cross, Jesus was ridiculed by individuals who said, “You who would destroy this temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!” (Matt. 27:40). The correlation of these verses across the Gospel accounts amounts to what Dr. Lydia McGrew calls an undesigned coincidence. That is, a correlation that was unplanned, but which shows a common source behind all the Gospel narratives.

The aged apostle John explained the message of Jesus, noting that Jesus “was speaking about the temple of his body. So when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the Scripture and the statement Jesus had made” (John 2:21–22). But what does Jesus’s teaching tell us about the Church this Easter season, especially during this pandemic? Here are a few applications:

1. The Church is a people and not a place. This is a recurring theme throughout the teachings of Jesus and something that makes him quite the controversialist. Early in Jesus’s ministry, he met with a woman that most modern Christians would turn away. She was a woman who had been divorced five times and was living with a man (John 4:17–18). While Jesus shared the gospel with her, she turned to the debate over place. She, being a Samaritan, said, “Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem” (John 4:20). Jesus redirected her attention to the true mode of worship. While admitting that Jerusalem was the chosen place to have the temple, he said something even more revolutionary about worship. He said, “But an hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and in truth. Yes, the Father wants such people to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and in truth” (John 4:21–24). As the CSB Study Bible says in its commentary, “Jesus’s point was that since God is spirit, proper worship of him is also a matter of spirit rather than physical location.” This is something to which God is directing our attention during this time. Worship is not just something that happens corporately on Sunday mornings even though that is extremely important, but rather worship is something that can and should happen every day of the week.

2. The Church is a body and not a building. I have been concerned for quite some time that we as Christians worship the buildings in which we worship the Lord. This pandemic has unfortunately suggested that is so. By Jesus’s teaching concerning the temple of God being his body rather than the building, he was directing people against the idol worship of the temple building. Jesus warned the disciples that the temple would be destroyed (Matt. 24:2). Yet, the Church would be the bride of Christ (Matt. 25:1–13; Rev. 21:1–2). That is, the Church is a body—a universal body—which cannot be restrained by bricks and mortar. What makes us think that a building could ever hold the totality of God’s presence in the first place (Acts 17:24)?

3. The Church is an organism and not an organization. Jesus taught that the Church would not be built by organizations but rather through the organism of his Church. When Peter proclaimed that Jesus was the Messiah, Jesus noted that Peter had this truth revealed to him by the Father. He calls Peter blessed before saying, “And I also say to you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overpower it” (Matt. 16:18). The reality is that the Church is a larger assembly of people that one could ever realize. It spans across denominational lines, transcends time, and unites various nationalities and ethnicities.

We have long accepted the idea that the Church is equivalent to a local community club. However, the Church is an unstoppable organism of the like that COVID-19 shutters and flees. No organism can stop the Church. Several viruses much worse than COVID-19 have tried in the past and lost. Smallpox has hit numerous times throughout history from 165 to 748, and the Church lived on. The bubonic plague, otherwise known as the “Black Death,” killed thousands of people from 1348–1352, and the Church continued. Throughout the 1400s and 1500s (the time of the Reformation), the bubonic plague arose from time to time, and the Church remained formidable. The 1600s continued to see the bubonic plague strike and even into the 1700s. The Church has remained steadfast even still. We will survive COVID-19. If we return to the ecclesiology of Jesus, we will have a better picture of the Church and a better theology to accompany what and who the Church is supposed to be.

Remember, it was after the resurrection that the Church began to understand what Jesus meant by the temple being his body. Despite the challenges we face, may we remember the victory found in the resurrection of Jesus and our identity found in him.


Brian G. Chilton is the founder of BellatorChristi.com, the host of The Bellator Christi Podcast, and the author of the Layman’s Manual on Christian Apologetics. He received his Master of Divinity in Theology from Liberty University (with high distinction); his Bachelor of Science in Religious Studies and Philosophy from Gardner-Webb University (with honors); and received certification in Christian Apologetics from Biola University. Brian is enrolled in the Ph.D. program in Theology and Apologetics at Liberty University and is a member of the Evangelical Theological Society and the Evangelical Philosophical Society. Brian has been in the ministry for nearly 20 years and serves as the Senior Pastor of Westfield Baptist Church in northwestern North Carolina.


© 2020. BellatorChristi.com.

[1] I use the capitalized Church to indicate the universal Church.

 

Waiting

Waiting

Tom Thomas

I used to see a red, retro-Ford Thunderbird in my neighborhood with the license plate, “Why Wait?” It always triggered a reaction in me. “Why wait? Waiting is the way,” I said to myself. “Everyone must wait…on something…on someone.” We are waiting on dinner, to pass the course, a good job opening, to find Mr. Right or the “dream girl,” for test results, or for gratification. Who likes waiting?! Observed the late Henri Nouwen, “Waiting is a dry desert between where we are and where we want to be.”

Waiting for my mother to pick me up after baseball practice at Miller Park in Lynchburg was surely a dry desert. As the afternoon shadows deepened, the field was long abandoned. I was the last one left. Cell phones did not exit. I did not even have a dime to call on the pay phone. Bored, there was nothing to do. Vulnerable, I was alone. Fearful, I might get picked on by older boys. Had she forgotten me? What would I do? How could I get home?

Waiting…must we? Yes, waiting is the proactive way. Is there a good way to wait? How and why do we wait? In Psalm 27 King David urges us to wait and tells us how and why. “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord,” he urges. Let me draw out several lessons from David’s moral encouragement to wait. Godly waiting is (1) staying in place unrealized; (2) staying in place being courageous; and (3) staying in place because God is the One coming to deliver you.

Patient people dare to stay where they are: waiting. Waiting is the way.

In Psalm 27, David finds himself in an anxious predicament. It might have been life threatening. You might feel yourself in a life-threatening situation. Adversaries bring false accusations against David and “breathe out violence.” His adversaries are trying to ruin his reputation and destroy him. Pretty serious business. There is no immediate relief in sight. He tells himself to “wait.” Waiting is the way. Waiting is what the children of Israel did in the Sinai wilderness for forty years. Waiting on Samuel is what Saul was told to do. Waiting on the bridegroom to arrive is what the ten bridesmaids did. “To wait for the promise of the Father” is what Jesus charged his disciples. Waiting is what we are doing for the second coming of Jesus Christ. On what else are you waiting?

For the people of God, to wait is “to stay in place in expectation.” The military general David tells himself to “wait for the Lord.” Stay where you are. Stay in what state you are. Stay there until God comes. Henri Nouwen observes, “Impatient people expect the real thing to happen somewhere else, and therefore they want to get away from the present situation and go elsewhere. For them, the moment is empty.” This is a good description of how I have felt. You too? Patient people dare to stay where they are: waiting. Waiting is the way.

What makes waiting such a challenge is how we must wait. We must remain temporarily neglected and unrealized. David is in this unrelieved state in Psalm 27. He is finding no defense from adversaries lobbing grenades at will at him. While waiting on their Messiah Israel was subject to hundreds of years of empires’ domination. Jesus is a prime example of waiting seemingly neglected. Jesus, appearing deserted and undone on the cross, cries out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

Does waiting neglected and unrealized mean one must wait in a nervous state, insecure and anxious? No. King David urges emphatically how we are to wait: “Be strong and let your heart take courage.” Inherent in waiting is a need for strength and courage. Courage is waiting in place, withstanding the present danger. One of Scripture’s best pictures of courage is Moses and the children of Israel backed up against the Red Sea. Trying to escape Egypt, their backside is hard against the boundary of the Red Sea. Pressing down upon them from the front side is the driving Egyptian army with its charioteers. Martin Luther describes them as a caged parrot. God’s word to Moses is, “Fear not and stand firm.” Wait. Be strong. Hold your ground looking the approaching danger square in the face. “Courage,” said John Wayne, “is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.” God echoes the same word to Joshua as Joshua readies himself to confront the great walled city of Jericho: “Be strong and of good courage.” Likewise, Jesus commands his disciples, “Do not let your heart be troubled.”

The English have a “bitter,” a beer, called “Courage.” Courage’s logo is a rooster with the slogan, “Take Courage.” In almost every film I have ever seen courage is pouring yourself a drink when facing an uncomfortable situation. A shot of “Courage” is no courage. In fact, it is not waiting at all! How then does one who has no courage “take courage”!? Simply telling me to take courage when I have no courage makes me even more nervous! I would not be anxious if I knew how to not be anxious!

How can David’s exhortation “Be strong and take courage” be effectual to scared people like us? The strength to wait and the reason we wait derives from the knowledge of Him for whom we wait: we “wait for the LORD.” Only in the knowledge that we “wait for the LORD can we have confidence. Only for this reason can we wait unrealized. Only for this reason does the courage come to withstand present danger. Staying in place is predicated upon waiting for God. In waiting for God, we are waiting for the One David describes in Psalm 27 as “my light and my salvation” and “the stronghold of my life.” We wait in faith, confident that “my light,” “my salvation,” and “my stronghold” will deliver us. “He will hide me in his shelter” and like a Middle Eastern tribal chief “will conceal me under the cover of his tent.” Even though an army besieges us, surely we are confident we shall see “God’s goodness in the land of the living.”

Batman assesses the adversaries amassing against him. He says to Robin, “There are six of them against us…odds slightly in our favor.” How do we wait? With courage. Why do we wait? Because of Him for whom we wait: we wait for the Lord, “my light and my salvation.” With the Lord the odds are always in our favor!

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord.


TomThomasStaffPhoto.jpg

 Tom is currently a retired Elder in the Virginia Annual Conference.  He has pastored churches in Virginia, California and England.  Studying John Wesley’s theology, he received his Ph.D. and M.A. degrees from the University of Bristol, Bristol, England and his Master of Divinity degree from Asbury Theological Seminary. While a student, he and his wife Pam lived in John Wesley’s Chapel “The New Room”, Bristol, England, the first established Methodist preaching house.  Tom was a faculty member of Asbury Theological Seminary. He has contributed articles to Methodist History and the Wesleyan Theological Journal. He and his wife have two children, daughter Karissa, who is an attorney in Richmond, Virginia, and, John, who is a recent graduate of Regent University.  Being a part of the development of their grandson Beau is a rich reward.  Tom enjoys a good book by a crackling fire with an English cup of tea.  His life text is, ‘Jesus, confirm my heart’s desire, to work and speak and think for thee’.

Tom Thomas

Tom was most recently pastor of the Bellevue Charge in Forest, Virginia until retiring in July.  Studying John Wesley’s theology, he received his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Bristol, Bristol, England. While a student, he and his wife Pam lived in John Wesley’s Chapel “The New Room”, Bristol, England, the first established Methodist preaching house.  Tom was a faculty member of Asbury Theological Seminary from 1998-2003. He has contributed articles to Methodist History and the Wesleyan Theological Journal. He and his wife Pam have two children, Karissa, who is an Associate Attorney at McCandlish Holton Morris in Richmond, and, John, who is a junior communications major/business minor at Regent University.  Tom enjoys being outdoors in his parkland woods and sitting by a cheery fire with a good book on a cool evening.

The Divine Council, Cosmic Conflict, and the Problem of Evil (Interview with Dr. John Peckham)

From Crash Course Apologetics:

Dr. John Peckham is professor of Theology and Christian Philosophy at the Seminary of Andrews University. In 2018, Peckham published his book, Theodicy of Love, where he offers a biblically based model for understanding why an omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent God allows suffering and evil. I found this book to be both profound and practical in its insight. In the words of Paul Copan, "it fills an important gap in the literature addressing the problem of evil."

 
 

Book Review: Why I Still Believe by Mary Jo Sharp

 
71iopQRbiDL.jpg
 

Why I Still Believe: A Former Atheist’s Reckoning with the Bad Reputation Christians Give a Good God. By Mary Jo Sharp. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2019. 239 pages. ISBN: 978-0-310-35386-7. Price: $17.99 (paperback).

Media (online and print) is full of books telling stories of those who abandon a Christian worldview due to disappointment or an experience of hypocrisy in the church. Mary Jo Sharp looks to counter these stories by relating her own experience of moving from basic atheism to a hopeful faith full of high expectations for church life. She does not neglect the negative, but she runs head first into it as she tries to find ways to live out her new faith in Jesus. In Why I Still Believe, Sharp explains why reason and beauty cause her to remain hopeful that the church can live up to the standards of Jesus. She also provides reasons why Christianity is the best explanation for both beauty and pain in our world.

This book is broken into basically two sections: 1) personal stories from Sharp’s spiritual journey from atheist to Christian apologist, and 2) attempts to answer some difficult questions regarding the Christian faith. Sharp covers her personal experiences before and after becoming a Christian, and then she takes the reader into her own world of Christian apologetics to try to find some answers to the issues she encounters. The book deals with issues regarding hypocrisy in the church, arguments about the resurrection, the problem of evil, and even a chapter on how beauty figures into a Christian worldview. The author concludes with chapters entitled “No Tidy Endings” and “Crash Landing’ where she explains that there are no easy answers to the problems facing Christians and their relationships to each other in the church. In other words, Sharp does not try to fix the problems or tie them up neatly for the reader. Rather, she explains them in plain language and offers both anecdotal and academic responses to many of the issues while acknowledging that some issues do not have easy answers.

Simply stated, this book represents a narrative of Sharp’s quest to understand beauty and the metaphysical reality that she found herself bumping into as a young person and later as a frustrated Christian. Sharp chronicles her youth living on the West Coast and her passion for and obsession with beauty in nature and how it could be explained. She deftly brings the reader along as she explains her experiences in high school (where a favorite teacher gave her a Bible) to her conversion to Christianity (and the subsequent frustration of dealing with church culture as her husband served in a variety of ministry positions). The story may seem a bit different to many who were raised in an Evangelical community, but the author expertly draws readers into her story so that they may live these events with her. While the narrative is well written and offers insight into the author’s life and thinking, the journey may not be an easy one for all readers.

Some may expect this book to be a restatement of some basic apologetics approaches or some general arguments to certain problems that opponents of Christianity raise. This book is completely different. Sharp offers some arguments, to be sure, and she deals with some common reactions to Christianity. Nonetheless, this book is much more personal than that. In fact, the issues discussed by Sharp may cause a visceral reaction in some readers as they relive some suppressed memories of their own experiences in the church. This book is VERY personal, and as a result it calls for deep thought and creates an emotional response. To be honest, readers will often agree with Sharp’s strong criticism and may also periodically experience a gut punch emotionally as they walk with her through these experiences. At the very least, readers may find themselves identifying with Sharp in a number of instances, and the realization that they are not alone in their experiences and expectations may be a bit cathartic.

To readers who feel stuck between the beauty of God’s great story and the ugliness of hypocrisy in the church, this book offers many rays of hope. Sharp offers both a personal and logical response to the problems she mentions, even when she admits that often answers may not be neatly found or explained. In the process she draws her readers into a Christian worldview where the beauty of God’s grace paints a masterpiece sometimes stained by the bad responses of human beings. In the end, Sharp reminds readers that there is hope and that from reason and experience the only logical answer to understanding this world seems to be the Christian faith. While the ending is hopeful, readers are reminded that the story is not over yet and many painful and evil events may happen before God wraps up his story. Nonetheless, this book is a narrative of hope. Hope that God has provided a means of navigating an evil world with beauty and grace as well as hope that pain and evil are not the end of the story. People who have dealt with the ugly underbelly of hypocrisy in the church will find no clean resolutions here, but they will find a metanarrative that reminds them of God’s beautiful plan and goal as well as an encouragement to strive to live in a way that reflects that same beauty and hope.

This book is not a typical “apologetics” book. While it certainly covers topics related to Christian apologetics, the book really is a metanarrative on how to live a life of beauty, reason, and hope when even those who should be family act as your enemies. Sharp reminds us that the Christian story is one of hope, and hope works in the heart of the wounded. This book is recommended for anyone who may be skeptical of the Christian faith or for those who by means of a negative church experience have considered leaving the church. Sharp offers hope to the wounded and a reason to believe for the skeptic. She covers a variety of topics with a beautiful (and sometimes painful) story of redemption and hope even in the middle of suffering. This book will make the reader think and feel deeply while also giving a solid basis for hope for the Christian faith and the church as proper expressions of God’s beautiful story.


Percer-Leo-20180215_989JE.jpg

Dr. Percer grew up near the Mississippi River in Millington, Tennessee, where he received a call to the ministry of teaching while attending First Baptist Church. Pursuing that call sent him on an educational journey that includes two Masters degrees and a PhD. This journey provided opportunities to minister in a variety of capacities, including youth ministry, children’s ministry, small groups, and homeless ministry. Upon completion of his PhD, Dr. Percer taught as an adjunct at both Baylor University and McLennan Community College in Waco, Texas. He came to Liberty University Baptist Theological Seminary in 2004 and teaches a variety of New Testament classes including: Hermeneutics, Greek, New Testament Orientation 1 & 2, the Gospel of John, Hebrews, 1 & 2 Peter, Life of Christ, and New Testament World. He also directs the Ph.D. Program for the seminary and teaches a variety of biblical studies classes. Dr. Percer lives in Lynchburg, VA with his wife Lisa and their two children.


More recommendations from MoralApologetics.com

Leo Percer

Dr. Percer grew up near the Mississippi River in Millington, Tennessee, where he received a call to the ministry of teaching while attending First Baptist Church. Pursuing that call sent him on an educational journey that includes two Masters degrees and a PhD. This journey provided opportunities to minister in a variety of capacities, including youth ministry, children’s ministry, small groups, and homeless ministry. Upon completion of his PhD, Dr. Percer taught as an adjunct at both Baylor University and McLennan Community College in Waco, Texas. He came to Liberty University Baptist Theological Seminary in 2004 and teaches a variety of New Testament classes including: Hermeneutics, Greek, New Testament Orientation 1 & 2, the Gospel of John, Hebrews, 1 & 2 Peter, Life of Christ, and New Testament World. He also directs the Ph.D. Program for the seminary and teaches a variety of biblical studies classes. Dr. Percer lives in Lynchburg, VA with his wife Lisa and their two children.

Editor's Recommendation: Pulpit Apologetics by Thomas J. Gentry

 
LBTS_david_baggett.jpg
Who better than a churchman and scholar, a theologian and preacher, an experienced pastor and seasoned apologist, to remove the intimidation of incorporating apologetics into preaching—tearing down the artificial dichotomies in the way and showcasing the power that comes from the resulting synergy? Kudos to T. J. Gentry for an erudite, philosophically and biblically informed case for integrating practice and theory, head and heart.
— David Baggett, Executive Editor

More Recommendations

"If Only To Appear Worthy of It”: A Christian Contemplation of Nietzsche’s New Image of Man (Part 2)

"If Only To Appear Worthy of It”: A Christian Contemplation of Nietzsche’s New Image of Man (Part 2)

Dorothy Rhoads

Biblical Image of God

In light of Nietzsche’s presentation of his new image of man, a Biblical contemplation of the image of God is relevant. The Biblical data unequivocally identifies man as being created in the image of God, but nowhere does Scripture offer an explicit definition or description of what possession of the image involves.[1] Rather than being presented with a concise picture, the Christian is invited to explore the intricacies and nuances of the mystery, and in doing so, discover a dynamic, living reality. Though the topic is dense, several points are clearly established. The first pages of Scripture present the fundamental fact that man, having been created in the image of God, is distinct from the animal.[2] It follows, then, that a survey of the Biblical text reveals that the image of God in man is inextricably related to the moral order reflecting the moral God.

The Biblical picture is for man, created in God’s image, to mimic God’s person and thus participate in his power. Undoubtedly, every human individual possesses the image of God, but it seems to be the Biblical portrayal that it is those redeemed by the blood of Christ and cooperating with the inner work of the Spirit that most properly and appropriately reflect it. To this point, a robust embodiment of the image of God is directly linked to moral transformation produced by knowledge of God. Since Nietzsche adamantly rejected God, the divine and morality, he was unwilling and unable to claim the inherent difference between man and animal, and his philosophy reflects his attempt to establish a distinction that is granted at the very baseline of Christian theology. Nietzsche’s new image of man, embodied by the Ubermensch, reflects his craving to be like God, but by grasping for the power and glory of God apart from knowledge of the moral person of God, he failed.[3] In these ways, Nietzsche craves and fabricates an existence of meaning and substance for his new image of man that has been granted and supplied only by God himself.

Knowledge and Moral Transformation

            As the result of Jesus appearing for men as, “the image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15), all of his image bearers are able to be redeemed, restored and transformed in knowledge of God.[4] “If the image is that which believers and God share, then to be like God must be to have that image fully restored,”[5] and appropriately, Ephesians 4:24 specifically identifies “righteousness and holiness” as the attributes of God that are to be produced in his image bearers.[6] According to Colossians 3:10, the new self, righteous and holy, is renewed “in knowledge of its Creator.” In his song of praise following the birth of John the Baptist, Zechariah rejoiced that the redemption of God’s people was near, the effect of which would be rescue from their enemies and enablement to serve God “in holiness and righteousness” (Lk. 1:75). Evidently, the incarnation of God marked the inauguration of a new era when humanity would be more dynamically empowered to fulfill its created purpose by living like him in holiness and righteousness. There is an explicit sense in which the Biblical picture depicts knowledge of God as the simultaneous first and last steps of being made like God.

            The direct result of knowing God is being made like him, a transformation which is explicitly moral and relationally transformative.[7] Given the created order established in Genesis and now being perfected through the Spirit, the individual has a fundamental responsibility to mirror God’s character. The Apostle Paul, for example, exhorted Colossian believers regarding their image marked by moral transformation. Each individual bears God’s image, but only those redeemed by Christ appropriately and robustly reflect it. Paul speaks in descriptive language, essentially instructing the believers to spiritually take off their old, tattered clothes and put on the new. With the “old self” put off and the “new self” put on, the image of God “is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator” (Col. 3:10). Those who live according to the image imprinted on their nature are then marked by the characteristics of God himself. In light of God’s compassion, they are to be compassionate; his kindness, humility and gentleness must produce the same in them, and his long-suffering and forgiveness is to be replicated in both motive and operation. Due to the living, working reality of the Spirit, man’s resemblance to God is to be profound.[8]

It is worth emphasizing that the directive to “put on the new self” is not a command for ethical modification, but an invitation to put on, more clearly and completely, the very image of God (Rom. 13:14; Col. 3:3-4). Christians are not to possess the moral characteristics Nietzsche despised simply because doing so builds a certain society and benefits other people, but because it is a fundamental Biblical fact that doing so is a cooperative reflection of the presence of God himself. To this point, the Apostle Paul names the attributes that are to be possessed by those whose created image has been restored and renewed by God: “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another…forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive,” and as a type of overcoat that encapsulates it all, “above all these put on love” (Col. 3:12-14). To the one who knows God, the command is only natural, for “God is love” (1 John 4:8). Christians are to live as Christ by living through Christ, putting his image on display by experientially knowing his nature and power.

When the pages of Scripture are turned back, it becomes obvious that Paul did not make a random selection of virtuous characteristics here. The New Testament epistles’ list of qualities finds its carbon original not only in descriptions of Jesus (Phil. 2:1-11), but first in God’s declaration of his own nature to Moses. Encountering God’s image is the source of transformational knowledge and the moral pattern for man’s proper possession of his own image. Alone with God at the top of Sinai, Moses, painfully aware of his own weakness and that of Israel, asked in humble desperation to actually see God. He could settle for nothing less than really knowing and powerfully experiencing the one he had determined to follow. The language Moses used in Exodus 33, and the language God used in response, suggests interesting insight on the larger issue of the image of God. Moses asked to be shown God’s “ways, that I may know you” (33:13), and when God agreed, Moses further asked to see God’s “glory” (33:18). In cooperation, God declared that he would show Moses his “goodness” and proclaim to him his “name” (Ex. 33:19).[9] Moses, it would seem, in asking to know God’s ways and see his glory, asked to understand God’s motives and his brilliant character. To accomplish this, and to produce something lasting in Moses, God responded by revealing to him his very value system, his goodness, and his intimate person, his name.[10]

Interestingly, the text does not paint a picture of what Moses saw. Instead, the reader is given the recording of God’s spoken declaration, a pronouncement sufficient to satisfy these requests. God showed himself as: “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty…” (Ex. 34:6-7). Almost to the letter, the attributes characterizing God’s self-disclosed nature inspires exhortations to believers in the New Testament. By being characterized by compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, forgiveness and love (Col. 3:12-13) the believer more clearly reflects the image of God. In fact, it is conceivable that the master list from which the virtues are taken is the one both dictated and possessed by God himself at Sinai: mercy and graciousness, long-suffering patience, love, faithfulness, forgiveness and justice (Ex. 34:6-7).[11] Paul’s directive to the Christian readers is undoubtedly inspired by a careful reflection on the person of God. These moral and interpersonal virtues are to characterize the believer because they depict the glorious, good and personal likeness of God. By possessing these virtues, believers more brilliantly reflect the image of God.

Given his revelation to Moses,[12] God himself links his glory and image to his communicable attributes. It is no surprise, then, that 2 Corinthians 3:17-4:6 suggests that God’s glory and his image are conceivably interchangeable. As the glory of God was displayed in the face of Jesus (2 Cor. 4:6), it is to be displayed in the face of the image-bearing believer (3:18), affecting moral transformation and inter-personal restoration. “As the image of God is increasingly perfected in redeemed humanity, persons are enabled not only to relate more adequately to God but also to other people.”[13] In the act of reconciliation at the cross, God put his image on display and restored a clearer depiction of image in those willing to be redeemed (Col. 1:15, 19-20).[14] In doing so, he brought men back into harmony with himself, thereby enabling them to operate functionally and relationally as his image bearers.[15] Nietzsche wanted the life, authority and power of God apart from the person of God, and he thought that knowledge of himself would be a fine substitute for knowledge of the Divine, but he was mistaken.

Grace as Power

Whereas the will to power is the lifeblood of Nietzsche’s new image of man, the one convinced of his identity as the image of God anchors sure hope for victory in divine grace. The reality of divine grace through the work of the Spirit enables the believer to live a life of power, which is divine both in origin and operation. Without grace, the image of God is shrouded in confused self-effort. Living as a reflection of the image of God is not a call to attempt to mimic God and manufacture personal versions of Christianity’s favorite attributes. It is a call to reflect God at an organic level, as one possessing and reflecting his image and therefore taking part in the divine life to a fuller and more perfect extent. Therefore, the grace of God displayed through the work of the Spirit is the exclusive means of fulfilling God’s design and experiencing a powerful existence. Inevitably, Nietzsche’s philosophical propagation that the Ubermensch is one who has learned self-mastery proves to be an empty promise that perpetuates frustration. Submitting to God’s design for the image of God, on the other hand, grants this goal not as a possibility but as a guarantee (Heb. 4:16).

Nietzsche’s attempt to exercise power over his humanity and distinguish himself from the masses was not achieved in his new image of man. His last act as a sane man was a display of compassion that he would have despised and condemned in anyone, including himself, and in terms of his uniqueness and recognized distinction, he never did sense that he was properly understood and praised.[16] A Christian contemplation of this reality takes into account the fact that those things which Nietzsche sought are only fully attained when man knows and operates according to his created purpose. Nietzsche’s desire for value, distinction and power over self reflects the appetite given to every individual. Nietzsche attempted to satisfy his cravings with his new image of man, particularly embodied in the Ubermensch, will to power and eternal recurrence, but satisfaction is found when the image of God in man is recognized and experienced through transformational and experiential knowledge of God.

Joy in Perfection

The Christian counter to Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence is, most naturally, eternal life, and interestingly, a close examination of the two doctrines reveals a fundamental distinction related to morality. Initially, there is a sense in which Nietzsche’s means-to-an-end view on suffering is, superficially, not far from the Christian belief in suffering. To the Christian, pain and suffering are embraced not for the purpose of living in misery, but because of the reality that they actively and effectively achieve for the individual a strength of character that more clearly reflects God’s and is able to persevere (Rom. 5:3-4; James 1:2-4).[17] Suffering is to be endured with confidence and faith because God has granted hope that perfection and eternal joy will be the result. Yet it is at that point, where hope is born out of a confidence in moral perfection, that Nietzsche decidedly makes his nihilistic break.

Nietzsche was determined to present a captivating alternative to nihilism, but by rejecting morality, he relinquished his right to aspire to perfection and thus perpetuated the meaninglessness he despised. The divine promise for the image of God is not only eternity, the hope of joy, but eternal perfection. Where Nietzsche’s new image of man hoped for power, the one recognizing his possession of the image of God hopes for perfection. As a result, at each point where Nietzsche was disappointed, the Christian is satisfied.[18] By turning himself into God, rejecting divine grace in place of the will to power and embracing power in eternal recurrence rather than perfection in eternal life, Nietzsche’s new image of man embodies and perpetuates hope-defying nihilism.

Conclusion 

Though Nietzsche is heard articulating an existence for man that functionally is void of every vestige of meaning and inspirational hope, he does seem to be expressing desires fundamental to humanity. At the root, though, the issue is the fact that Nietzsche embarks on a quest for meaning, power and joy that is entirely independent of God. Nietzsche desired transformation, both of himself and of his humanity, but what Nietzsche could not achieve, God affords. Nietzsche attempted to escape nihilism, which he detected both in the admission that God does not exist and that he might.[19] In an effort to pull himself up by his own amoral bootstraps, Nietzsche blazed his own trail by presenting the new image of man as God’s successor and trading knowledge of God for knowledge of himself. [20] This new image of man, then, is seen to be a sad corruption of the image of God. Nietzsche inadvertently reminds the Christian that knowledge of God is the catalyst for experiencing the depths of his power and beautifully and captivatingly reflecting the image of God.

Had Nietzsche known God and thus had a proper view of God and of himself, he would not have been desperate to create a new image of man that possessed some possibility for relative meaning. He would have recognized that the very imprint of God on his nature made him capable of infinite power, a possessor of inconceivable worth and a resident of a perfect eternity. Nietzsche would have been convinced that it is the very life of God that gives to man infinite and personal meaning. He would have seen that where the will to power fails, grace succeeds, and he would have been able to answer his own cry for eternity with the assurance that one day night would give way to perpetual day when all would be well and he, God’s image bearer, would be eternally whole.


 


Notes:

[1] R. Ward Wilson and Craig L. Blomberg, “The Image of God in Humanity: A Biblical-Psychological Perspective,” Themelios 18, no. 3 (1993): 9.

[2] Ibid., 8.

[3] While he was certainly dedicated to embodying his philosophy to the best of his ability, Nietzsche’s own words reveal that he lived a tortured existence that sought after what did not exist in his reality. If the life of the Ubermensch could achieve Nietzsche’s ideal, certainly, he would have been the one to know. While the Christian experiences frustration because of personal failure to experience the very real and available abundant life through the powerful Spirit, Nietzsche’s frustration seems to stem from a desire for what cannot be achieved, that is, mastery of himself by himself alone. Frustration is common to all people, but the Christian’s frustration is born out of laziness in aspiring to much less than what can be experienced, while Nietzsche was frustrated by aspiring to something other than what can be experienced.

[4] Wilson and Blomberg, “The Image of God,” 8. Along with Augustine, Thomas Aquinas is responsible for some of the fundamental Christian conceptions of what is entailed in man being made in God’s image. Aquinas identified three ways in which God’s image is reflected in humanity, one of which being man’s ability to know and love God by conformity with his grace.

[5] Ibid., 9.

[6] Ibid., 9. According to Luther and Calvin, the capacity for righteousness and holy living make up the essence of possessing God’s image (Col. 3:10; Eph. 4:24).

[7] Ibid., 9.

[8] The Spirit works in the image bearer, producing both the “desire and power to do what pleases him,” Phil. 2:13. Nietzsche complained that Christ was the only Christian, but the Biblical expectation is that believers intentionally “put on” Christ, living just like him. Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ (New York: Tribeca Books, 2010), 50.

[9] 2 Peter 1:3 states that men are called by God according to his “glory” and “goodness.” It is surely in keeping with God’s ways that men are called to God’s name according to God’s glory and goodness.

[10] Wilson and Blomberg, “The Image of God,” 9.

[11] Direct quotations of the divine personality profile of Exodus 34 is repeated in eight other Old Testament passages (Num. 14:18; Neh. 9:17; Ps. 86:15, 103:8, 145:8; Joel 2:13; Jon. 4:2; Nah. 1:3).

[12] It is worth contemplating that this grand revelation involved Moses, the one with whom God was pleased to speak, “face to face, as a man speaks to his friend” (Ex. 33:11). The ability to know God intimately and thus be made like him prefigures Jesus’ declaration that this intimacy is now normative for those who have been restored to better reflect the image of God: “I no longer call you servants…Instead, I have called you friends, for everything I learned from my Father I have made known to you” (John 15:15). Evidently, friendship is contingent upon knowledge, and Biblically, this knowledge is transformational.

[13] Wilson and Blomberg, “The Image of God,” 9. In Leviticus 19:1, God commands his people to be holy as he is holy, and he then goes on to enumerate a specific list of attributes that echoes the traits given in Exodus 34:6. In the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew records Jesus’ reiteration of Lev. 19:1 with the command that his hearers, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). In Luke’s account of this message, he substitutes Matthew’s “perfect” with “merciful,” It is worth considering whether this replacement is synecdochic, given that mercy is the first quality God discloses in Exodus 34:6-7. According to Joel Green, Luke’s birth narrative establishes the mercy of God as his primary characteristic. “Here we find the fundamental basis for God’s behavior in any time, and it is surely significant that Jesus will later identify mercy as the primary motivation behind God’s activity and as the basis for ethical behavior for the community of disciples,” Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 117.

[14] 2 Corinthians 3:7-18, a clear reflection on the event described in Exodus 33-34, reflects on the glory of God revealed in the Old Covenant in light of the transformation of those redeemed by Christ. “And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image (eikōn) with every-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:18). The same word eikon appears in the LXX Genesis 1:26. Those made in the essential image of God are designed to be further transformed through the sacrificial activity of God.

[15] James D. G. Dunn, The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI; Carlisle: William B. Eerdmans Publishing; Paternoster Press, 1996), 221.

[16] Hollingdale, Nietzsche: Man and Philosophy, 131.

[17] James’ language is particularly striking. Those who allow suffering to accomplish its purpose are made “perfect and complete.”

[18] Interestingly, an argument can be made that, despite his writings, Nietzsche himself could not practically bear up under the burden of what he taught. Though he preached isolation, he despised his own loneliness, and though he endured, with great strength, a lifetime of suffering and illness, he seemed to be tortured by his own existence. Nietzsche does appear to embody his philosophy, but the point made here is that he was miserable doing so. He argued that the will to power produces joy, but his life suggests that the belief in power without perfection produces meaninglessness.

[19] Walter A. Kaufmann, Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist, Antichrist (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013), 101. “To escape nihilism – which seems involved both in asserting the existence of God and thus robbing this world of ultimate significance, and also in denying God and thus robbing everything of meaning and value – that is Nietzsche’s greatest and most persistent problem.”

[20] Ronald E. Osborn, Humanism and the Death of God: Searching for the Good After Darwin, Marx and Nietzsche (Oxford: Oxford Scholarship Online, 2017), 175.

"If Only To Appear Worthy of It”: A Christian Contemplation of Nietzsche’s New Image of Man (Part 1)

"If Only To Appear Worthy of It”: A Christian Contemplation of Nietzsche’s New Image of Man (Part 1)

Dorothy Rhoads

While the Christian call is to live worthy of the life of God,[1] Nietzsche’s call is to live worthy of the death of God. In his Parable of the Madman, Nietzsche challenged the modern man to proportionately respond to God’s demise: “Must we not become gods ourselves, if only to appear worthy of it?”[2] Nietzsche did his best to dictate and embody this existence. He enumerated a standard against which individual worth is determined and he established a bar by which the success of an attempt can be measured. In a desperate attempt to provide meaning to nihilistic Europe in the wake of Darwinism, Nietzsche presented his philosophical new man as the sole possessor of vision and worth in light of God’s death.

Though Nietzsche’s new image of man is a strategic contradiction of the Christian picture, it represents his aspiration to goals embodied in the divinely granted image of God. In this way, Nietzsche’s new image of man is a corrupted picture of the image of God. In place of God and knowledge of him, Nietzsche established the Ubermensch. He traded divine grace for the will to power, and he sacrificed eternal perfection for eternal recurrence. Upon each of these philosophical substructures, Nietzsche built his new image of man, but at the foundation, he lacked the meaning, power and joy that is inherent to the Biblical model.

 

Nietzsche’s New Image of Man

Among other reasons, the brilliance of Nietzsche’s philosophy is that it is both innovative and reactive. Having judged that previous conceptions of reality had collapsed with the death of God, Nietzsche formulated his own. In what Hollingdale calls Nietzsche’s “new image of man,”[3]  Nietzsche painted a picture of what he judged to be the sole embodiment of a meaningful and successful existence. His philosophical picture represents his attempt to distinguish man from the animal through the will to power. Rather than being subject to God, nature or any force including himself, Nietzsche’s man is empowered to be creator, determining his own reality and establishing his own standard. Nietzsche’s ideal man is embodied in the Ubermensch, who is driven and defined by the will to power over every threatening force and who embraces life to its fullest extent, even to the point of delighting in the prospect of eternal recurrence.

 

Ubermensch

Having become concerned that Darwin had nailed shut God’s coffin and obliterated the distinction between man and animal, Nietzsche sought to produce a contemplative solution that was independent of the supernatural and explicitly void of morality; by creating the Ubermensch, Nietzsche granted meaning and substance to man by distinguishing him from the animal and making him God. Humanity, Nietzsche explained, is simply a bridge between the animal and the Ubermensch, and those who are incapable of possessing the qualities of the Ubermensch possess  no more worth than an animal.[4] Most of humanity is bound in the prison of morality and constrained by religious and societal prejudices, but the Ubermensch knows no such restrictions.[5] He is, Nietzsche proudly declared, the greater man, the overcomer, the Ubermensch; he is the “new ‘image of man.’”[6] This new image denies the existence of God and finds in himself the ability and power to create a life worthy of such a figure.

With honest contemplation that his contemporaries lacked, Nietzsche recognized that the result of “the disappearance of the ‘regulating finger of God’ from the world” would be chaos.[7] Nietzsche reckoned that the death of God would result in vacuous living and inescapable meaninglessness unless the Ubermensch rises to the occasion by fixing his own goal, aspiring to his own ideal and creating his own reality. Essentially, Nietzsche’s philosophy “was an attempt to produce a new world-picture which took Darwinism into account but was not nullified by it.”[8] In an act of rising to this task, Nietzsche formulated his new image of man in order to “stand against the growing nihilism of modern Europe” and effect a transformation of certain men that turned them from being equivalent to an animal into being equivalent to God.[9]

With God dead, the Ubermensch is his successor.[10] Standing over God’s grave, Nietzsche took up the divine mantle and declared that God’s authority, value, creative power and privileged autonomy were in his own hands and in the hands of fellow overcomers. If the reader listens closely, the thrill in Nietzsche’s voice can be heard as he explained this new reality to the few who were capable of understanding his war cry and joining in his brigade. “Once you said ‘God’ when you gazed upon distant seas; but now I have taught you to say ‘Ubermensch.’”[11] Practically, this is accomplished when the Ubermensch’s will to power is operative, and both his own humanity and the external forces warring against him are mastered.

Will to Power

Nietzsche’s new image of man revolves around his fundamental commitment to cooperate with and be driven by the will to power. Though the will to power is philosophically unique to Nietzsche, it developed as a partial divergence from Schopenhauer’s philosophy. Schopenhauer identified an antithesis between the intellect and the will.[12] Since the nature of the will to life is to exist in perpetual conflict with other wills simultaneously seeking their own advancement, willing results in striving and subsequent conflict and suffering. The will, then, is identified as the cause of inevitable unhappiness because the will to life and its miserable consequences are unavoidable. The intrinsic, inescapable and incurable evil of life characterizes Schophenhauer’s philosophy as one of pessimism.[13] While in many ways Nietzsche, too, was pessimistic, he broke with Schopenhauer at a monumental juncture. Whereas Schopenhauer’s philosophy of the primacy of the will taught that the will produces suffering and must be escaped, Nietzshce believed in the will and the drive to power as the very meaning of life. The will is not, according to Nietzsche, the will to life, but the will to power.[14] Nietzsche agreed that much of life is suffering, but suffering itself is the key to happiness, because suffering positions the will to exert power, and the meaning of life is power in operation.[15] The will to power is especially operative in the Ubermensch’s knowing and mastering of himself and exerting dominance over every external force.

As God’s successor, the new image of man must be mastered by and dependent upon no one. The death of God marked the death of the metaphysical need for other worlds and the ability to get in touch with an outside being. As a result, everything needed by man must come from within.[16] Naturally, then, rather than placing confidence and hope in divine grace to effect transformative power over personal deficiencies, Nietzsche’s hope was in man’s own will to power. Nietzsche acknowledged that even the Ubermensch was far from perfection, so his existence needed to be one of continual striving, overcoming and overpowering. The Ubermensch would never achieve perfection, but he would achieve perpetual opportunities for power.

 

Eternal Recurrence

In light of the supremacy of the Ubermensch and the central place of the will to power in his philosophy, Nietzsche conceived of a culminating theory to explain the world and simultaneously accept it.[17] Fascinatingly, Nietzsche recognized that the human heart possesses a craving for eternity, and his doctrine of eternal recurrence creates an eternity conditioned for his new image of man.[18] Nietzsche’s philosophy required a doctrine that both legitimatized an embrace of suffering for all of eternity and glorified the possession of power to bear up any circumstance. His solution was eternal recurrence.

Eternal recurrence is Nietzsche’s self-conceived doctrine that all events repeat themselves an infinite number of times for all of eternity. All that has been experienced, is being experienced and will be experienced is part of the cycle that will continue forever without change or improvement. The doctrine first emerges in The Gay Science and features most prominently in Thus Spoke Zarathustra.[19] When life is lived to the fullest, eternal recurrence is embraced. In a sense, then, Nietzsche established eternal recurrence as a litmus test judging a person’s attitude toward life.[20] The Ubermensch is neither discouraged by nor fearful of eternal recurrence, but instead accepts and relishes in the endless repetition as a way to say an eternal “Yes” to life.[21] He invites and embraces the recurrence of pain because with it comes the increase of power and thus the recurrence of happiness. Though Nietzsche prided himself in his unflinching embrace of pain, it is noteworthy that pain is not welcomed for pain’s sake but because it is understood to be an irreplaceable component of a joyful life.[22] Pain achieves for man something greater by conditioning him to bear up under what is difficult. Pain sharpens the Ubermensch’s ability to exercise the will to power, and so, he is then properly placed to also experience what is pleasant.[23] Eternal recurrence has been named the crown of Nietzsche’s philosophy and the culmination of his alternative to nihilism. Yet rather than solving the problem of nihilism with eternal recurrence, Nietzsche magnified it. By rejecting morality and therefore closing the door on the hope for perfection, Nietzsche was left with no alternative but meaninglessness. Nietzsche’s new image of man represents a perverted attempt to reach what is only provided in the Biblical image of God.


 

Notes:

[1] Eph. 4:1; Col. 1:10.

[2] Nietzsche, The Gay Science, trans. Kevin Hill (London: Penguin Classics, 2018), 134.

[3] R.J. Hollingdale, Nietzsche: The Man and His Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 163.

[4] Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, trans. Clancy Martin (New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 2005), 11. “Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the superman a rope oven an abyss.”

[5] Giuseppe Fornari, A God Torn to Pieces: The Nietzsche Case (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 2013), 99.

[6] Hollingdale, Nietzsche, 163.

[7] Hollingdale, Nietzsche, 167. One problem with Nietzsche’s theory, as the history of the twentieth century demonstrated, is that the existence of goals and determined purpose alone does not minimize chaos but rather focuses and localizes it.

[8] Ibid., 73.

[9] Ibid., 163.

[10] Ibid., 163.

[11] Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, 75. It should be emphasized that Nietzsche did not disbelieve in the need for God, but rather judged the Ubermensch as the one fit to his task. Nietzsche saw the Ubermensch as the only hope to lift man out of a meaningless existence produced by the death of God.

[12] Julian Young, A Philosophical Biography Friedrich Nietzsche (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 93.

[13] Hollingdale, Nietzsche: Man and Philosophy, 69.

[14] Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, 101.

[15] Hollingdale, Nietzsche: Man and Philosophy, 70, 183.

[16] Duane Armitage, Heidegger and the Death of God (Scranton: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017), 2.

[17] Hollingdale, Nietzsche: Man and Philosophy, 145. “Nietzsche arrived at the theory of the eternal recurrence as a consequence of two requirements: the need to explain the world and the need to accept it.”

[18] Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, 279. “’But all joy wants eternity, wants deep, deep, deep eternity!’”

[19] Nietzsche, The Gay Science, 220.

[20] Nietzsche did not insist that this doctrine reflects reality, but he challenges every individual to contemplate how they would react if it did.

[21] Robert Solomon, Living with Nietzsche (Oxford: Oxford Scholarship, 2005), 13.

[22] Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, 278. “Did you ever say Yes to one joy? O my friends, then you said Yes to all woe as well. All things are chained and entwined together.”

[23] Hollingdale, Nietzsche: Man and Philosophy, 167. Hollingdale describes Nietzsche’s belief this way: “The evil and pain in his life then become a positive good, since they were necessary for the achievement of this one supreme moment: if one event were subtracted, everything following would be different…The life to aim for is the life containing the greatest amount of joy – and joy is the feeling that power increases, that an obstacle is overcome.”

Top Ten Posts for 2019

10. Seven Reasons Why Moral Apologetics Points to Christianity

David Baggett, March 2017

9. Podcast: Dr. David Baggett on the Euthyphro Dilemma

David Baggett, November 2014

8. Gracious Forbearance

Matt Towles, April 2019

7. 9 Evidences of the Resurrection of Jesus

Stephen Jordan, April 2019

6. Paul and Socrates: What Athens Has to Do with Jerusalem

David Baggett, September 2015

5. How Kantian Ethics Helps to Demonstrate the Attractiveness of Biblical Ethics

Zach Breitenbach, April 2016

4. Letter from Henri to Fred

David Baggett, August 2019

3. Urban Legends of the Old Testament: Imprecatory Psalms Are Horrible Models for Christian Prayer (Psalm 109)

Gary Yates and David Croteau,January 2019

2. Suffering: Richard Dawkins Contra Jesus

Tom Thomas, September 2018

1. C. S. Lewis and 8 Reasons for Believing in Objective Morality

Stephen Jordan, January 2019

Editor's Recommendation: Theodicy of Love by John Peckham

Theodicy of Love
By John C. Peckham
A new Peckham book is always an event, and Theodicy of Love does not disappoint. Theologically and philosophically adept, exegetically sound, and analytically rigorous, it offers a rich biblical theodicy in the face of the evidential problem of evil. Peckham’s contribution goes beyond the limitations of a freewill defense and avoids skeptical theism while acknowledging significant epistemic limitations—all while skillfully avoiding an array of potential pitfalls. As fascinating as it is fearless, Peckham’s judicious and perspicacious account assigns primacy to the suffering love of God, who—while operating within certain temporary covenantal strictures—is demonstrating his faithfulness and goodness against cosmic allegations to the contrary. This is an important contribution to theodicy that illuminates a plethora of challenging questions.
— David Baggett, Executive Editor

More recommendations

Editor's Recommendation: Stan Key's Journey to Spiritual Wholeness

Editor's Recommendation: Stan Key's Journey to Spiritual Wholeness

With his characteristic and signature charm and clarity, power and eminent practicality, preacher and teacher extraordinaire Stan Key (aptly enough) unlocks a vast swath of scripture by adroitly using the lens of the exodus to shed light on how to enter the fullness of God’s promise of spiritual victory—while avoiding notorious pitfalls along the way. At once as uplifting and enchanting as it’s challenging and convicting, Key’s long-awaited book on the geography of salvation is everything I hoped for and more. Rife with trenchant biblical insights, veritably singing with inimitable turns of phrase and dancing with lucid prose, it captures the imagination and invites readers to become fellow pilgrims with the ancient Israelites on a journey saturated with salvific significance today. The result is a treasure-laden pilgrimage readers should not, and with Key’s help definitely will not, ever forget.
— David Baggett, Executive Editor

More recommendations

Urban Legends of the Old Testament: Radical Islam Has Inherited Ishmael’s Violent Spirit (Genesis 16:12)

Editor’s note: This piece comes from an upcoming book by Gary Yates and David Croteau, Urban Legends of the Old Testament, a sequel to Urban Legends of the New Testament.

The dismissal of Hagar by Pieter Pietersz Lastman.

The dismissal of Hagar by Pieter Pietersz Lastman.

He shall be a wild donkey of a man,
his hand against everyone
and everyone’s hand against him,
and he shall dwell over against all his kinsmen.
— Genesis 16:12

The Legendary Teaching on Ishmael and His Descendants

Abraham’s lack of faith and patience that led to the birth of Ishmael through Hagar is the cause of the perpetual conflict between Arabs (the descendants of Ishmael) and Jews (the descendants of Isaac) in the Middle East today. The Bible informs us that the conflict between Ishmael and Isaac would be never ending. Arabs, as the descendants of Ishmael, have inherited his rebellious (“like a wild donkey”) and violent qualities (Gen 16:12), and the existence of radical Islam and violent jihadism is proof that “the spirit of Ishmael” still exists among Arab peoples today. 

 

Countering the Legendary Teaching

The portrayal of Ishmael as a “wild donkey” conveys a positive message that even resembles the portrayal of the twelve tribes of Israel in Genesis 49. The Bible never prophesies a perpetual conflict between the sons of Isaac and Ishmael, and Ishmael’s descendants even have a vital role in the working out of salvation history and a share in the covenantal blessings given to Abraham and extended through Isaac.

 

Birth Announcement and Hope for an Oppressed Woman

The declaration that Ishmael would be “like a wild donkey” in Gen 16:12 appears in the context of a birth announcement designed to offer hope and encouragement to a beleaguered slave. Tony Maalouf explains, “Having been the recipient of a special revelation from the ‘God who sees’ everything and cares for everyone, it would become much easier for Hagar to accept her circumstances.”[1] The angelic announcement concerning Ishmael in Gen 16:10–12 was a positive message concerning the future of Hagar’s son.

Readers today understandably read “like a wild donkey” as an insult. Referring to someone in this way in our culture would likely lead to an angry confrontation. Comparing someone to a donkey might seem to convey the qualities of stupidity, stubbornness, or contentiousness. As part of this comforting announcement to Hagar, however, the image likely is a promise that Ishmael and his descendants would enjoy the freedom and independence of living as roving nomads, in spite of the difficulties that such a lifestyle would also entail.

The term wild donkey (pere’) appears only ten times in the Hebrew Bible. It is not always clear whether the connotations associated with the wild donkey are positive or negative. The prevailing ideas associated with this animal appear to be “freedom, isolation, and wilderness habitat.”[2] Gordon Wenham states that the wild donkey is a figure for “an individualistic lifestyle untrammeled by social convention.”[3] The wild donkey lives in barren areas (Job 24:5; Isa 32:14; Jer 14:6; Hos 8:9). In Job 39:5–8, the wild donkey lives in the wilderness and laughs at the noise of the city and, unlike his domesticated counterpart, never has to endure the abusive commands of a taskmaster.

            The second statement about Ishmael in Gen 16:12 does refer to hostilities that would exist between Ishmael (and his descendants) and surrounding peoples. The Hebrew reads: “hand-to-hand with everyone and everyone hand-to-hand with him” and is somewhat ambiguous in meaning because of the lack of a verb. Nevertheless, in twenty-seven of the thirty-three instances in which the noun hand (yad) is followed by the preposition be (“in, on, upon, against”) that has a person, people, or inhabited area for its object, the sense is adversarial and denotes conflict (e.g., Exod 7:4; Josh 2:19; 1 Kgs 11:26–27).[4] The NET Bible even reads, “He will be hostile to everyone, and everyone will be hostile to him.” A people at perpetual odds would seem to be disagreeable and violent, but this statement needs to be read in light of the surrounding context. We have two other important uses of “hand” in this context that inform our understanding here. In Gen 16:6, Abram says to his disgruntled wife Sarai concerning Hagar: “your slave is in your hands” (be + yad) and that she could do with Hagar as she wished. Sarai then mistreats Hagar so that she flees from Abram’s household. In verse 9, the angel of the Lord instructs Hagar to return to Sarai and to submit “to her authority” (tahat + yad; lit. “under her hand”).

The statement in verse 12 about Ishmael’s “hand” being against everyone should then be understood at least in part as a promise of the reversal of Hagar’s powerlessness in verse 9. Ishmael would not be subjugated to others in the way that Hagar was to Sarai, and he would have the strength to stand up to others when wronged. Maalouf explains, “Constant roaming of the bedouin tribes in the desert, with no established legal system and clear civil law code, put them in a state of conflict with each other, and set others against them for fear of their raids, since nomads dislike the settled life.”[5] The point is that Ishmael would be able to contend for himself in these disagreements and confrontations.

The final statement concerning Ishmael in verse 12 that he would “settle near (‘al pene) all his relatives” is also open to interpretation. Because ‘al pene does have an adversarial sense in other passages (e.g., Job 1:11; 6:28), some English translations (NIV, NRSV, NLT) view this statement as also referring to perpetual conflict between Ishmael and his neighbors The NIV reads that Ishmael “will live in hostility toward all his brothers.” The preposition ‘al pene more often has a spatial nuance and likely refers in Genesis 16 to how Ishmael would live away from other peoples because of his Bedouin lifestyle. The fact that ‘al pene has this spatial meaning in Gen 25:18 with reference to Ishmael’s descendants suggests the same meaning is intended here.[6] This last description of Ishmael says nothing about violence or hostility.

            The announcement that Ishmael would be like a wild donkey parallels the depiction of a number of the tribes of Israel in Jacob’s blessing of his sons in Genesis 49. Judah is like “a young lion” (v. 9), Issachar “a strong donkey” (v. 14), Dan “a viper” (v. 17), Naphtali “a doe set free” (v. 21), and Benjamin “a wolf” (v. 27). The portrayals of Judah and Benjamin as a lion and wolf are violent in nature and would seem to depict these tribes as violent—predators tearing apart their prey (vv. 9, 27). Judah would subjugate his enemies so that the nations would give obedience to him (vv. 8, 10), and this promise ultimately points to the dominion of the house of David and the future Messiah. Under attack from archers, Joseph’s bow would be strong and agile (v. 23).[7] Military strength would be essential for Israel’s survival and security as a nation in the violent world of the ancient Near East. These portrayals, however, do not infer that Israel was a vicious, warmongering people, and we should avoid drawing similar conclusions about Ishmael and his descendants on the basis of Gen 16:12. We would not suggest from Genesis 49 that the “spirit of Judah” or “spirit of Benjamin” is responsible for the present-day conflicts in the Middle East.

 

Isaac and Ishmael in Perpetual Conflict?

Christopher Heard notes that, contrary to popular opinion, the Old Testament never prophesies perpetual animosity between the descendants of Ishmael and Isaac.[8] The two brothers are never in conflict as adults and join to bury their father in Gen 25:9. Isaac subsequently lives near Ishmael, suggesting cordial relations between the two. Joseph’s brothers sell Joseph into slavery to a caravan of Ishmaelite traders who take him to Egypt (Gen 37:25–29), but Joseph’s own brothers are the ones who act in hatred. Only two passages in the Old Testament refer to Ishmaelites committing acts of violence against Israel. Ishmaelites carry out raids against Israel during the time of Gideon (Judg 8:24), and Ishmaelites and Hagrites are mentioned as enemies that conspire against Israel in Ps 83:6. Heard writes, “Although Christians commonly claim that Isaac’s and Ishmael’s descendants have fought constantly since Isaac’s birth, it is hard to sustain that claim with biblical evidence.”[9]

 

God’s Blessing of Ishmael and His Descendants

Ishmael is not the promised child through whom God’s covenant promises to Abraham would be fulfilled, but this fact does not minimize God’s blessing of Ishmael or negate his redemptive concern for Ishmael’s descendants. The circumcision of Ishmael in Gen 17:23 demonstrates that he was included in the blessings of the Abrahamic covenant. The name Ishmael (“God hears”) is testimony to how God had been attentive to the cries of Hagar when she was alone in the wilderness after Sarai sent her away when Hagar was with child (Gen 16:11). The promise that Ishmael would have many descendants (Gen 16:10) parallels the promises to Abraham that he would have numerous offspring (Gen 15:5; 17:20; 22:17).

The blessing of Ishmael would in fact help to bring fulfillment of specific covenant promises to Abraham—that he would be the father of many nations (Gen 17:4–5) and that all nations would be blessed through Abraham (Gen 12:3; 18:18; 22:18). Isaiah 60:6–8 specifically mentions the inclusion and participation of Ishmael’s descendants (Midian, Kedar, Nebaioth; compare Gen 25:13; 28:9; 37:28) in the future kingdom when the nations stream to Zion to worship the Lord. Ishmael’s descendants will bring their wealth as tribute to the Lord and their flocks and herds for sacrifices to the Lord.

            Other specific literary features in Genesis point to favorable and sympathetic readings of the characters Hagar and Ishmael. The birth announcement from the angel concerning Ishmael is the first of such annunciations in Scripture, and similar annunciations in the Old Testament anticipate the birth of a special or promised child (including Isaac, Samson, and Samuel). Hagar’s experience when God intervenes to deliver Ishmael from death in Genesis 21 parallels Abraham’s as he prepares to offer Isaac in Genesis 22.[10] Both Hagar and Abraham take a journey to a desolate place, and both hear an angel from heaven announcing God’s intervention on behalf of their sons (Gen 21:17; 22:11–12). 

 The depiction of Ishmael in Genesis also invites comparison with Joseph in that both are expelled from their home because of their master’s wife.[11] Sarah expels Ishmael because she observes him “laughing” (mocking?) (tsahaq) at the feast for Isaac’s weaning (Gen 21:8–10), and Potiphar’s wife falsely accuses Joseph of attempting to rape her and thus “mocking” (tsahaq) his master’s house (Gen 39:14–17). In spite of their unfair treatment, both young men prosper because God is “with” them (Gen 21:20; 39:2, 21). These favorable comparisons with other individuals who are part of the covenant people of God suggest that we should also view Hagar and Ishmael as positive characters, not as the ancestors of Israel’s perpetual enemies.

 

Application

Christians have often used wrong interpretations or simplistic readings of Scripture to justify prejudice or hatred toward specific groups of people. Identifying the mark of Cain in Genesis 4:15 as the curse of black skin or equating Native Americans with the Canaanites to justify their extermination are two prominent examples of such readings. Attributing the conflict in the Middle East to “the spirit of Ishmael” or the lack of evangelical compassion toward Arab refugees in our current environment reflects a similar misreading of the Bible. The genealogical relationship between Ishmael and present-day Arabs is complex to begin with, and the statement that Ishmael would be “like a wild donkey” in Gen 16:12 does not characterize Arab peoples as violent. Ishmael plays a strategic role in the working out of God’s plan to bless all nations through Abraham (Gen 12:3), and the descendants of Ishmael will be among the people of God “from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev 5:9). Loving the descendants of Ishmael is a reflection of the heart and character of God himself.

 


Annotated Bibliography

Books

 Maalouf, Tony. Arabs in the Shadow of Israel: The Unfolding of God’s Prophetic Plan for Ishmael’s Line. Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2003. Helpful treatment from an Arab Christian of the role of Ishmael and Arab peoples in the working out of God’s kingdom purposes.

 

Commentaries

 Wenham, Gordon J. Genesis 1–15 and 16–50. Word Biblical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2017). Scholarly evangelical commentary with two volumes on Genesis, here presented as one volume.

 

Articles

 Heard, Christopher. “On the Road to Paran: Toward a Christian Perspective on Hagar and Ishmael.” Interpretation 68 (2014): 270–85. Argues for a more charitable Christian reading of the figure of Ishmael.

 

Websites

 Rishmawy, Derek. “I Am Not Abraham’s Mistake.” Patheos, Christ and Pop Culture (blog). February 27, 2013. http://www.patheos.com/blogs/christandpopculture/2013/02/i–am–not–abrahams–mistake/. Argues that popular evangelical theology about Arabs often contradicts biblical teaching.

 

 


[1] Tony Maalouf, Arabs in the Shadow of Israel: The Unfolding of God’s Prophetic Plan for Ishmael’s Line (Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2003), 65.

[2] R. Christopher Heard, Dynamics of Dislection: Ambiguities in Genesis 12–36 and Ethnic Boundaries in Post-exilic Judah, Semeia Studies 39 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2001), 69.

[3] Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 16–50, Word Biblical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2015), 11.

[4] Heard, Dynamics of Dislection, 69–70.

[5] Maalouf, Arabs in the Shadow of Israel, 72.

[6] Heard, Dynamics of Dislection, 72.

[7] A strong case can be made for an alternate reading of Gen 49:22 that translates the verse as depicting Joseph as the “son of a donkey” (ben porat) in a manner that recalls the depiction of Ishmael “like a wild donkey” (pere’ ’adam) (rather than “a fruitful vine”). The noun son (ben) is never used with a plant elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible but does appear with animals (Gen 18:7; Ps 29:6). See S. Gevirts, “Of Patriarchs and Puns: Joseph at the Fountain, Jacob at the Ford,” Hebrew Union College Annual 46 (1975): 35–49.

[8] Christopher Heard, “On the Road to Paran: Toward a Christian Perspective on Hagar and Ishmael,” Interpretation 68 (2014): 276–77.

[9] Heard, “On the Road to Paran,” 279.

[10] For fuller development of the Hagar-Abraham parallels, see S. Nikaido, “Hagar and Ishmael as Literary Figures: An Intertextual Study,” Vetus Testamentum 51 (2001): 221–29.

[11] Nikaido, “Hagar and Ishmael,” 232–41.

John Wesley: Brand Plucked from the Burning

The rescue of the young John Wesley from the burning rectory. Mezzotint by Samuel William Reynolds.

The rescue of the young John Wesley from the burning rectory. Mezzotint by Samuel William Reynolds.

Thinking he was dying, Evangelical Awakening leader John Wesley penned his epitaph, “John Wesley, a brand plucked out of the burning.” Brother Charles Wesley quipped, “Not once only.”  The ‘brand plucked’ phrase encapsulated the reality upon which not only his but many of his spiritual descendants’ spiritual and moral transformation hinged.  Recount with me the life events that prepared John Wesley for the signal manifestation on 24 May 1738 of his coming to saving faith two hundred and eighty one years ago this year.

At age 23, John Benjamin Wesley read Bishop Jeremy Taylor’s book, Rules and Exercises of Holy Living and Dying.  It deeply affected him.  He said, ‘Instantly I resolved to dedicate all my life to God, all my thoughts and words and actions.’  The next year he read the Catholic monk Thomas à Kempis’s book The Imitation of Christ.  There John Wesley saw that to give his life to God meant giving ‘my heart, yea, all my heart to him.’  John Wesley became what is called a ‘f-a-n-a-t-i-c’ or, same thing, a ‘Methodist’!  Theologian Albert Outler with others following suit argues the 1725 event was John Wesley’s conversion.  Granted, it was a change.  Nevertheless, it was neither the relational change of justification with God nor the new birth from above.  Dedicating his life meant to John Wesley becoming an Olympic religious athlete/monk (like Simon Stylites the ancient ascetic monk who lived on a small platform on top of a pillar for 37 years). Still, he was in dead earnest about bringing all of himself – all thoughts, all words, and all actions – and then some – into perfect conformity with religious righteousness – a.k.a. the rich, young ruler. 

His brother Charles and another friend Robert Kirkham responded to Oxford University’s Vice-Chancellor’s call for students to keep university rules.  What a novel idea!  They started a club in answer to the Vice-Chancellor’s call and made John its leader.  The club aimed at nothing short of “perfection.”  They kept track of every hour’s activity – was it done to God’s glory?  They read the Greek New Testament; fasted; prayed continually; took communion once a week; visited prisoners in the Oxford jail (I visited the cell in the 1980’s); and went to daily worship.  Fellow students called out ‘nerd alert’:  here comes the “the Holy Club,” the “Bible Moths,” and the “Methodists” – likely a pun.  Methodius was a primitive church father and the Methodists followed a stringent, methodical, Christian discipline.

Meanwhile, things were not going particularly well vocationally with John.  Though he was a tutor of Lincoln College, Oxford, some parents were reluctant to send their sons to be taught by the oddball, “Mr. Primitive Christianity.”  Moreover, his brief experience of pastoring a church was lackluster.

When the invitation came to go to Georgia as a missionary, he was ready for a “New World.”  He would oversee the English colonists and evangelize the Indians.  In crossing the Atlantic, Wesley’s tiny ship, the Simmonds, encountered a raging hurricane.  Waves vaulted the ship and smacked its wooden hull. Each time they hit, John thought the ship would be dashed into a thousand pieces.  The turmoil was not just outside.  Inside he asked himself, “Why are you so afraid to die? ... How is it that thou hast no faith?

Meanwhile, German Moravian Lutherans on board quietly served the passengers and calmly sang through the valley of the shadow of death. They were on their way to Georgia to escape religious persecution.  Intrigued, Wesley after the storm asked a Moravian, “Were you not afraid?  Thank God, no,” was the answerHow about your women and children?” “No, they are not afraid to die.”

When John arrived near Tybee Island, Georgia, Moravian leader August Spangenberg asked him point blank a question he had never considered. “Do you know Jesus Christ?”   Wesley paused.  Then he said, “I know he is the Saviour of the world.”  Spangenberg shot back, “But do you know He has saved YOU?” “I hope He died to save me,” said Wesley.  “But do you know yourself?” Spangenberg insisted.  “I do,” said Wesley.  He later confessed, “But, I fear those were vain words.”  Indeed.

Undaunted, still hot from the Holy Club culture, John Wesley was determined to make the American colonists into an Oxford Holy club – an admixture of Catholicism and Protestantism.  The colony would not.  A friend told John, “They (the parishioners) say they are Protestants, but as for you they cannot tell what religion you are of; they never heard of such before.”

In the meantime Wesley was forming a close attachment to the magistrate’s niece, Sophie Hopkey.  Long story short, she married another man.  Wesley refused to serve her communion because he said she deceived him and had not repented of it.  Her uncle the magistrate served a warrant for Wesley’s arrest.  One night Wesley quietly slinked away through the Georgia swamps.  England bound sounded pretty good.  So much for being a missionary.

Sailing home, he was dejected.  He had lost a potential wife.  His congregation was not “holy” – just irate.  His rigorous religion was giving him cold comfort.  “I have a fair summer religion,” he confessed to himself.  “Let death look me in the face, and my spirit is troubled”… “I have a sin of fear, that when I’ve spun my last thread, I shall perish on the shore!”  He mused, “I went to America to convert the Indians, but, oh, who shall convert me!”

He could not by all the rigors of self-denial, prayers, fasting, and good works make himself acceptable to God.  After all his strenuous, spiritual athletics, he could not rid himself of sin and guilt.  Should he die, he feared meeting God.

A couple of months after returning to England, in March 1738, he wrote in his Journal, “I was, on Sunday the 5th, clearly convinced of unbelief, of the want of that faith whereby alone we are saved.”  Moravian Peter Bohler counseled him to preach faith until he received it. The Moravian Lutheran understanding of justifying faith is that it is a gift which God gives and one receives.  One decides for it but God sends faith in his own time.  In April John Wesley realized he was a sinner without recourse.  Several times he wept privately over his state.  By now he had no intellectual objections to the nature of evangelical faith.  He accepted it as a sure trust in God that through the merits of Christ one’s sins are forgiven and one is reconciled to God’s favor.  However, was saving faith instantaneous like the Moravians claimed?  He studied Scripture and concluded it was instantaneous.  But was it for today?  Moravian leader Peter Bohler gave him many current witnesses who testified to it.  He was beat out of that retreat.  Intellectually and willfully he had accepted justification by faith.

Several weeks later on 24 May, 1738, after soul searching, Bible study, discussion with the Moravians, and a great sense of his spiritual lack before God, John Wesley went very unwillingly to a religious house group meeting in Aldersgate Street, London. (Nazi bombing in WW II destroyed the house.)  At about a quarter before nine, someone was reading Martin Luther’s Preface to his commentary on the Book of Romans.  As Luther was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, John Wesley felt “my heart strangely warmed.”  He said, “I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even MINE, and saved ME from the law of sin and death.”

Once he had been providentially plucked from his bedroom in flames.  Now he was rescued from the fires of God’s wrath.  As a child, he was helpless to get out of his flaming room.  Now he conceded he was helpless to make himself righteous.  Two men had to snatch him out of his childhood inferno.  Only Jesus Christ and his mercy offered in the atoning cross could save him from his sin.  Only Jesus could declare him acceptable to God.

Wesley scholars will forever debate the nature of the Aldersgate event.  Was Aldersgate just another step in his Christian pilgrimage?  Was it more assurance of faith than justifying faith? The bottom line is that that night in a room on Aldersgate Street John Wesley’s inner, spiritual ear heard Christ forgive him and accept him.  He went from knowing Jesus as Exemplar to knowing Jesus as Savior.  He no longer trusted in his own but Jesus’ merits.  Aldersgate is the landmark event that notes a change in status having occurred in John Wesley’s life: once a child of this world he was now a child of God; once guilty he was now forgiven; once unrighteous he was now declared righteous.  Now holy living really began.

Aldersgate was the hinge of John Wesley’s spiritual and moral transformation.  May many, many others today have their own similar Aldersgates.  Our hope is that our children and children’s children will not only be retelling his and ours, but theirs as well.

 


TomThomasStaffPhoto.jpg

Tom was most recently pastor of the Bellevue Charge in Forest, Virginia until retiring in July. Studying John Wesley’s theology, he received his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Bristol, Bristol, England. While a student, he and his wife Pam lived in John Wesley’s Chapel “The New Room”, Bristol, England, the first established Methodist preaching house. Tom was a faculty member of Asbury Theological Seminary from 1998-2003. He has contributed articles to Methodist History and the Wesleyan Theological Journal. He and his wife Pam have two children, Karissa, who is an Associate Attorney at McCandlish Holton Morris in Richmond, and, John, who is a junior communications major/business minor at Regent University. Tom enjoys being outdoors in his parkland woods and sitting by a cheery fire with a good book on a cool evening.

Tom Thomas

Tom was most recently pastor of the Bellevue Charge in Forest, Virginia until retiring in July.  Studying John Wesley’s theology, he received his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Bristol, Bristol, England. While a student, he and his wife Pam lived in John Wesley’s Chapel “The New Room”, Bristol, England, the first established Methodist preaching house.  Tom was a faculty member of Asbury Theological Seminary from 1998-2003. He has contributed articles to Methodist History and the Wesleyan Theological Journal. He and his wife Pam have two children, Karissa, who is an Associate Attorney at McCandlish Holton Morris in Richmond, and, John, who is a junior communications major/business minor at Regent University.  Tom enjoys being outdoors in his parkland woods and sitting by a cheery fire with a good book on a cool evening.

Evil in the Book of Job

Job and His Friends by Ilya Repin (1869)

Job and His Friends by Ilya Repin (1869)

Job is an excellent, and terrifying, book, and through it we can learn much—if we have the fortitude to patiently endure its deeper lessons.

While there are many small lessons throughout the book, there are three main things I believe we should learn from Job:

1﷒     The righteous will suffer, and sometimes they will suffer because of their righteousness—just like our Savior.

2﷒     Even though Job was “blameless, upright, fearing God, and turning away from evil,” he still had faults that needed to be corrected.

3﷒     God cares enough about his children to perfect and prepare them for perfect fellowship in the ages to come.

Lesson 1: The Righteous Will Suffer

God brags about Job—wouldn’t it be awesome if the same could be said about us. And, as the first two chapters of Job make clear—he was in a right relationship with God. The author introduces him as one who was “blameless, upright, fearing God, and turning away from evil.” The Lord amplifies this when He speaks of Job saying, “there is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, fearing God and turning away from evil.” And to seal the deal, even The Satan (The Accuser) does not have anything to accuse Job of, he only has an assumption of what Job might be like given the right circumstances.

There should be no debate at this point in the story, Job was in a right relationship with God. And because of Job’s right relationship with Him, God supernaturally protected and blessed him. The Accuser complains that The Lord had built a hedge of protection around Job where he could not break through and wreak havoc; however, The Accuser was certain that if The Lord removed this protection, and if Job’s material blessings could be taken from him, that Job would “curse You to Your face.” In other words, The Satan accused Job of being righteous not because of his character—who he was, but only because of the good stuff God had given him—what he got. The accusation is: Job gave obedience only because he got good stuff from God.

Now comes the first terrifying part of the book—especially for those readers that are in a right relationship with God and that are living a somewhat comfortable life—God removes His protection from Job. With this, The Accuser is now free to bring about destruction in Job’s life and to test/prove the quality of his character. One important thing to remember at this point is that while Job was righteous he was not sinless. Later in the book Job will confess that neither he nor any other human who had lived to that point was sinless before God. Just as believers in Christ are in a right relationship with God while none of us are sinless, so it was with Job. Also, as we learn in Colossians, Job (like the rest of us) was born into the “domain of darkness” where the “god of this age” has significant freedom to inflict its inhabitants. The Lord’s hedge of protection about him was not something that Job earned but a grace gift that God freely bestowed upon him. God in His righteousness could have withheld all of these material blessings and Job’s life could have been filled with pain all along, but because of the free gift of God it was not.

In his first severe test Job understands this. After his properties and possessions and children are all taken from him Job responds,

         “Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
         And naked I shall return there.
         The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.
         Blessed be the name of the LORD.”

Once The Accuser had his first restrained access to Job (The Lord still protected Job’s person), he violently removed all of the things that he believed accounted for Job’s righteous behavior. But as we just saw from Job’s amazing response, the first test only proved God’s point and Job’s character—Job was righteous and that there were none like him.

The next time The Accuser stands before The Lord, God again brags about his servant Job and highlights the fact that Job’s love for God was not based upon the material blessings He had given him. Not one to be dissuaded by the facts, however, The Accuser makes his next accusation: Job really only loves you because you have given him health, if that is removed he will “curse you to your face.” And with this, the second phase of Job’s testing begins.

The Accuser now is granted more access to Job (although still not unrestrained) and uses the opportunity to inflict Job with “sore boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.” After inflicting this state of constant pain, The Accuser caps his attack against Job by using what should have been Job’s last source of comfort—his wife—against him. The Accuser incites Job’s wife to try to help bring about his prediction. In her pain, she tells Job to “Curse God and die!” But even through this extreme testing, “Job did not sin with his lips.” Job has withstood the examination and his righteous character has been fully tested and proven.

Now, if the main point of the story was to show Job’s faithfulness in passing the test, I would have expected the story to have immediately jumped to Job 42:10: “The LORD restored the fortunes of Job…,” but given the extra forty chapters between where we are and that point in the book, it looks as if the main point of the story is still to come. So while we will have to dive in deeply to get to the main point, we have already learned some important lessons.

First, we learned that this is the type of universe where, even though a perfect Judge sits as sovereign, the righteous can still suffer. If the story of Job is looked at in isolation, this is true but not very comforting. However, if we look at this story (as we should all of the Old Testament) as a pointer to Jesus in some way, then we can learn an important theological truth: If the sovereign, righteous God never allowed the righteous to suffer on the earth, then Jesus—the Righteous One—would not have been allowed to suffer and die in our place. Jesus was the only sinless person, the One who justly should never have experienced the suffering brought about by sin; however, He suffered extensively (in our place). The atonement requires innocent suffering and Job shows that this is possible. This is a profound lesson we need to learn from Job (and it is one Job’s friends needed to learn also).

Second, the book of Job doesn’t directly answer the question: Why do the innocent suffer?—and, there is no single answer. If it did, the best potential answer offered would be because God was bragging about them. If this was the main point, the story could have happily ended by pasting the end of chapter 42 onto the end of chapter 2. Also, I don’t believe that The Accuser tricked God into allowing Job to be tormented. While a simple reading may seem like The Satan got the best laugh when God said, “although you incited Me against him to ruin him without cause,” God’s omniscience—and the other forty chapters in the book—lead me to believe there is a deeper story. God allowed this initial test not only to prove Job’s character via a trial (which it did), but as we shall also see, this was just the first phase of the greater test that Job was about to face.

And this point leads us to the third lesson: Even though Job was in a right relationship with God, and he was proven through trial to be “a blameless and upright man, fearing God and turning away from evil,” Job still had a character flaw that needed to be purged. In the next article we will see that while he was righteous, Job had a defective theology and that this in combination with a character flaw would lead him to act foolishly, but only under certain circumstances.


pexels-photo-891674.jpeg


Dave works in the software industry and has a background in both biology and computer science. He has interested in both of these areas, especially where they intersect. He holds a B.S. in Biological Sciences from UC Irvine, an M.S. in Computer Science from West Coast University, and an M.A. in Apologetics from Biola University.

 

 

Dave Sidnam

Dave works in the software industry and has a background in both biology and computer science. He has interested in both of these areas, especially where they intersect. He holds a B.S. in Biological Sciences from UC Irvine, an M.S. in Computer Science from West Coast University, and an M.A. in Apologetics from Biola University.

Editor's Recommendation: The Doctrine of God by John C. Peckham

Editor's Recommendation: The Doctrine of God by John C. Peckham

Recommended by David Baggett

Laudably even-handed and researched, elegantly written and explicated, Peckham’s eagerly anticipated, student-friendly contribution is a treasure trove. Exploring God’s existence is valuable; asking who God is priceless. Peckham investigates the latter by deftly navigating an expansive, philosophically and theologically sophisticated literature to mine substantive doctrine with fertile and far-reaching implications.
— David Baggett, Executive Editor

More Recommendations

No Longer in Glimpses: In Memory of My Mother Joan F. Decker

Touched by the Hand of God by Jayt74

Touched by the Hand of God by Jayt74

Richard Decker is a second-year English master’s student at Liberty University. His eulogy for his mother, on her recent passing, speaks to God’s transforming grace and the hope we have as Christians that God’s love will fully restore us to our true selves, made in his image and for eternal communion with him and our fellow creatures.


When I think back to the good that my mother did during her lifetime, what comes to mind is a person who, despite everything, made it clear that she loved me and was on my side—no matter what. My mother showed me how important it was for me to stay strong and to break the cycle. She gave me a love for music and for people. She taught me the importance of being down-to-earth and open with one’s thoughts and feelings, and she always made it clear to me that I could tell her anything. I believe what I am trying to say is that through all the cloudiness, I was still able to see glimpses of a person who loved and cared so much for me and for others and did her best to show that love. But as I said, these were glimpses.

Joan and Richard Decker

Joan and Richard Decker

 For when I would look at old pictures and hear stories of my mother when she was young, I must admit it was always a surreal experience for me. Because the young woman in those pictures and in those stories—the young woman that many of you knew and loved so well—I knew only in photo albums—in glimpses.

As my mother and I would tell jokes with one another, I would see glimpses of that young woman who walked the hallways of Cider Ridge High School, laughing and having a good time with her friends. As I read my mother’s cursive on my Christmas and birthday cards, I would see glimpses of that young woman who loved sending similar cards and letters to her friends and relatives. As I would see my mother dressed up for a get-together with family, I would see glimpses of that young woman who aspired to be a model—and had her aunts and uncles drive her to modeling classes. As I would watch my mother tidying up the house, I would see glimpses of that young woman who would babysit her cousins and clean up their house solely for the sheer joy of seeing things tidy. As my mother showed me the ills of addiction, I would see glimpses of that young woman who wanted so much to be a nurse so that she could care for and look after others. I would see that young woman, every now and then, through these small actions that my mother would take—and I loved her for that.

And above all, my mother knew Christ and trusted in Him. And I know that she is now with Him in a state of peace—no longer afflicted by the demons of this world—no longer consumed by its cloudiness. You know, I heard once—mostly through rumors—that when people enter heaven, they tend to look like their younger selves. I do not know how much I trust such an idea, but I believe I do trust the symbolism behind it: a symbol of purity and innocence that reveals that we as believers are able to see each other as our greatest selves when we are once again with our Heavenly Father.

I believe that such an idea is close to the truth because I also believe that when my time comes—when I, too, am with my Savior—I will also be with my mother again, and I will be able to not only see her but also that loving and caring young woman—no longer in glimpses, but in a full, bright, and beautiful image—to whom I will say, “Joanie! Mom! There you are! I knew you were there that whole time—and I love you for that.”

Adoption, the Children of God, and the Spirit of Supererogation

Adoption, the Children of God, and the Spirit of Supererogation

Jeffrey R. Dickson

The Bible illustrates the wonder of redemption in many captivating ways—all of which demonstrate the goodness of a loving God. One analogy that has become especially meaningful to my family is that of adoption. The apostle Paul writes,

But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His son, born of a woman, born under the Law, so that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. Because you are sons, God has sent for the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’ Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God. (Gal. 4:4-7)

Recently our family adopted a beautiful little girl and this process has provided us with a new appreciation for what God has accomplished for sinners. This growing admiration for what Christ has completed for the lost has come by means of several parallels that might be drawn between our family’s personal adoption story and Jesus’ program of redemption. To be sure, any comparison between Christ’s salvific work and my family’s experience should not be taken as a suggestion of congruency between the two. However, several similarities do exist that elucidate the heart of spiritual adoption, something of the abundance of God’s grace, and its implications for the believer.

First, my wife and I were under no obligation to adopt. In fact, prior to our newest addition we already had three children of our own. Though we tragically lost our third child (a son) a couple years ago, the only motivating factor behind our desire to adopt a new baby stemmed from a deep and mysterious yearning to show love to another child. Similarly, God was not obligated to redeem lost sinners in a way that would bring them into his family. As God is perfect and (as the passage above intimates) exists in triune community, there is no insufficiency, loneliness, or incompleteness that adopting sinners could possibly satisfy. Instead, it is his mysterious desire to share love, particularly for his Son, with others that motivates him to grow his family. If supererogation is defined as the performance of a work or activity that transcends what duty or obligation requires, God’s spiritual adoption of the sinner is supererogatory in excelsis and par excellence. (Admittedly, some would argue that God himself has no duties, in which case he can’t go beyond his duties, since he doesn’t have any; even if so, though, there’s something of the spirit of the supererogatory at play here in God’s unspeakable grace. Language of duties alone is inadequate to the task of capturing God’s great love.)

That God’s grace is beyond explication in terms of duties alone in adopting anyone manifests in several additional parallels that can be drawn between our family’s experience and the experience of redeemed sinners everywhere. For instance, the offer of adoption is not always reciprocated. For my wife and me, the process of being matched with a birth mother involved sharing our carefully crafted profile with several potential women. Five of these women passed us over for someone else in spite of what we believed was a fairly attractive and convincing presentation. Though we thought we had produced a convincing appeal to raise their biological children, they decided to choose another family. In the same way, Christ’s offer of adoption into the family of God is not always accepted either. This is especially curious given all the convincing proofs of his ministry (as witnessed, for instance, in the compelling case for the historicity of his resurrection), his glory (as seen in the beauty and design found in creation), and his goodness (as evidenced in common grace throughout the world and moral tendencies within the human person). In fact, God’s case for adoption includes the most compelling profile of all, rendering the proposition of passing it over for something/someone else especially grievous and tragic.

Adoption also comes at an unusually high price, often requiring great sacrifice. This was true in the life of our family as we counted the cost and sacrificed plans and pleasures to satisfy what was required to bring our girl home. Added to legal costs were traveling fees and other accommodations as we were made to go a long distance and remain a couple of weeks before being reunited with our older children. Even further, there were multiple hoops through which we were made to jump in order to bring our adoption to finalization. However, what was true in a financial, emotional, geographic, and legal sense for our family is even truer of Christ who, in providing for the adoption of sinners, was required to pay the ultimate price—his life. Not only that, but Christ traveled much farther in his efforts to arrange for sinners to be invited into the family of God and ripped through far more red tape.

. . .although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5b-8)

This passage highlights not only the special and sacrificial barriers Jesus crossed, but also demonstrates the myriad of hoops he jumped through, as it were, in order to pave the way for the spiritual adoption of the redeemed.

Finally, for our family (and most others who adopt children), our new baby girl will not be considered a second-class child nor will she even be introduced as “my adopted daughter.” We consider her as much ours as our other children and her status as one of ours will never change. She has become another member of our family in every way for as long as God leaves us on the earth. In fact, she stands to inherit a portion of what little my wife and I may leave behind along with our other kids. Similarly, God’s adopted children are called “sons and daughters of God” in every meaningful sense. Their legitimacy as children in God’s family is further confirmed by the inheritance they will one day share—“therefore, you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God” (Gal. 4:7). This would have proven especially meaningful to the first century reader as most adoptees were adult males and the reason for adoption was usually to pass on one’s inheritance [Hugh Lindsey, Adoption in the Roman World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 25, 28]. Finally, their status as one of God’s children is permanent as Jesus says, “and I give eternal life to them, and they will never perish; and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand” (John 10:28-29). Again, first century readers would have no doubt appreciated the connotation of permanence associated with adoption as under Roman law a man could never disinherit an adopted son but could more easily put away a naturally-born child [Ramsay, A Historical Commentary on St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1979), 353)].  

Perhaps this is why the adoption image is utilized in the scriptures to speak of Christ’s redemptive work, for, in it, the unspeakably gracious nature of God is on full display, the high cost of Christ is in full view, and something of the permanence of the familial relationship that is forged as a result is adequately celebrated. All of these considerations demonstrate, among other things, the desperately helpless state of the adoptee (lost sinners) and something of the overwhelming benevolence of the adopter (the Lord God). Much as our little girl was helpless, if left unto herself, to enter a good home, so too are lost sinners without a relationship with Christ. That said, praise be to God that he arranged a program for adoption, provided for its cost in the giving of his Son, and paved the way for full and final inclusion in the family of God.


Jeff Dickson.JPG

Jeffrey Dickson, PhD studied Theology and Apologetics at Liberty University where he now serves as an adjunct professor of Bible and theology. Dr. Dickson is also the senior pastor of Crystal Spring Baptist Church in Roanoke VA where he lives with his wife Brianna and their children.