Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Romans 7:13-20

Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. 14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. 15 For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. 17 So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. (Romans 7:13-20)

Depravity Redefined. When theologians speak of total depravity, many get a false and muddled picture of human sinfulness. Total depravity seems to indicate a wholesale fall into perversion. Man is as wicked as he possibly could become. However, neither the Scriptures nor experience support such a view. The fact is that the portrait of human evil is quite a bit more complex than this, and Paul gives a very helpful analysis of our predicament.

I want but I don’t. Oddly enough the depths of our waywardness is revealed by the good and healthy desires of our heart. We, like Paul, often find ourselves wanting to refrain from certain activities. We don’t want to grow bitter and resentful or to be controlled by greed or lust. In this our hearts “agree” with God’s law, which as creatures created in the image of God is engraved upon our conscience (Romans 2:15). However, there is no grounds here to grow confident in our own goodness, for Paul points out that although we reveal God’s imprint through healthy desires, we immediately reject those healthy wants and do what we “hate.” Bondage is not control that goes unresisted. When we speak of slavery, we speak of those unfortunate peoples forced into labors and duties that they would not choose for themselves and are offered no proper reward. In the same way, the bondage of sin is not a slavery that goes uncontested within us. The descent into depravity is an embattled one. Thus, the shackles of our wickedness is powerfully demonstrated by the fervent though impotent resistance of our hearts. We don’t want to do it, and we do it again and again and again.

Is it sin or me? Paul ends here by stating that it is sin and not “I” who does the deed that I do not want. It may, then, seem like Paul is removing himself and us from the culpability of our actions. Given the entire context of Romans, and Paul’s other writings, this clearly is not the case. In the very next section, Paul proclaims, “Wretched man that I am!” and not “Wretched sin that dwells in me.” “Sin” is his master, and at the same time sin is a part of him. It rules him, and yet it dwells in him and is not external to him.

Total Depravity. Thus, total depravity does not mean we are as bad as we can possibly be. It means that we want to live a good and righteous life, but we can’t want it enough. We are tortured souls ever living with the hatred of our own words, thoughts, and deeds, but powerless to speak, think, or act differently. And so we are perpetually condemned to valley of guilt, regret, and shame with a longing to climb out but lacking the strength to do so. If only there was someone willing to descend into this dark, deathly ravine, who also had the strength to carry us out.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Athens and Jerusalem: Church and Culture Part 2

“What hath Athens to do with Jerusalem? What between the Academy and the Church?” These are the famous words of the early church father Tertullian, and they mark the philosophy that he attempted to live by. He totally denounced all Roman authority, he exempted all Christians from civic obligations, he decried all forms of public entertainment, and he rejected the notion that any good could be gained from secular philosophy. What’s more, Tertullian promoted a rigorous ascetic lifestyle that sometimes went to unhealthy extremes. In short, Tertullian advocated complete rejection of all culture.

“What hath Athens to do with Jerusalem?” Well, apparently more than Tertullian realized. It is well known that he was highly influenced by Stoicism as a young man. The Stoics believed that one needed to maintain an emotional detachment from the physical world, part of which they achieved through a strict asceticism. It is pretty clear that this Stoic detachment from pain and pleasure influenced Tertullian throughout his Christian life. For example, he believed that sexual pleasure of any kind was a sin and should be avoided. Stoic philosophy was so embedded in him that although he claimed to reject it entirely he actually filtered his Christian beliefs through it.

Tertullian’s blind spot does not provide the answer for the questions of Christianity and culture, but it does provide some significant warnings. First, total separation from culture is simply not possible. One can hardly imagine an individual going further extremes than Tertuallian, and even he could not escape. Culture is the air the we breath. Christians obviously need to be discerning of culture and must reject much of it. But to say that Christians should avoid all culture is a non-answer. The very motives for rejecting pagan culture may be pagan themselves.

Secondly, Tertullian’s blindness reminds us of our own blindness. What Tertullian viewed as righteousness was actually an ethic derived from a secular, pantheistic philosophy. This early church father tried to draw dark, bold lines between Christ and the world, and he failed. Can you draw the lines between Christ and the world? It seems that suspicion is in order. Perhaps the world isn’t out there. Perhaps the world is much closer than you think.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

African Prosperity "Gospel"

Here is a heartbreaking report by Christianity Today on the spread of the prosperity "gospel" in Africa.

The Prosperity Gospel from The Global Conversation on Vimeo.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Early Christians and Culture

The subject of church and culture is one that I have been studying for some time. Of course, this is subject that is on the front burner of contemporary American Christianity, and in one form or another has always been front and center. Think of how significant and comprehensive are the questions regarding this issue. How involved should the Church be in politics? What is Christian art? Should Christian art even be obviously “Christian”? How far should Christians venture into “worldly” movies, music, and entertainment? What exactly is “worldliness”? What meaning is there in “secular” employment? How does the Church be “in the world” without becoming “of the world”? How does the Church proclaim a counter-cultural (by the way, what does “counter-cultural” mean?) gospel without becoming irrelevant to the culture (and what does “irrelevant” mean and should we care?). Enter John Barber’s The Road from Eden, which is an attempt at a comprehensive history of how the church has interacted with culture. As I slowly work through this book, I thought I would share some perspectives on church and culture from various points in Christian history.

Up first is a piece of early Christian art, the painting titled Raising of Lazarus. In the picture Christ is portrayed as a “large, senatorial, Apollo-type figure.” The Roman senate was the most distinguished and powerful class in the Roman Empire. Apollo was the god of power, and one the three most significant gods in the Roman mind. So why would a Christian artist fashion Jesus after a pagan god?

At first, this painting appears to be simple syncretism, a thoughtless absorption of pagan culture into Christianity. Christianity, even at this early date, appears to be blending with the Roman worship of power. But the situation isn’t that simple. In pagan mythology Apollo is extremely powerful, but he has his limits. And one particularly notable limitation is that he can’t raise people from the dead. But the painting is about raising Lazarus from the dead. Is it not ironic that such a picture would feature Apollo? Ironic or antagonistic? The painting sends a subtle and powerful message into its culture, Jesus is greater than Apollo. Jesus can do what neither the Roman empire, nor its gods could ever do. The Roman elite, the emperor, the pagan gods are not lord. Jesus is Lord.

The painting reveals that the early Christians understood well their neighbors and friends, but it also reveals their devotion to Jesus. They knew how to communicate to the pagan mind without compromising the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Not only did know the pagan culture, they were able to wield for the sake of Christ. This painting (and Barber actually lists several other examples) raises the question: Can Christians use pagan culture to proclaim a counter-cultural gospel?