Thursday, August 28, 2014

“Justification,” “The New Perspective” & Why It Matters (PRT 1)

Okay so this first part has more to do with the “new perspective” than on “justification” (though I am assuming most know little about either, so I hope it will all be clear by the end) but my interest in this began when I got a chance to use “justification” as paper topic in one of my systematic theology classes. It gave me an excuse and the time to research the so-called “new perspective” and see what it was all about.  After looking at the argument I realized the it was kind of an important contribution to Biblical scholarship that was widely misunderstood, but more importantly it seemed to be right.    

So, I will make this as brief as possible so as not to bore you to death but here is justification in a nutshell.  Aw who am I kidding… prepare to be bored.   The term justification (dikaiosis) comes from something Paul kept referring to in his letters in which he says we are justified by grace and by faith and at other times we are just justified (Rom. 2-5; Gal. 2-3). Based on these passages the doctrine was formed (mainly by Martin Luther) that said justification by faith is God’s powerful, cosmic and universal act by which He has both set free and vindicated the sinners who by faith trust in Christ’s work and they can now stand in right and faithful relation to God.[1]   Yeah, let that sink in for a second… This came about because Luther was trying to counter-act the Catholic notion that they still had to earn salvation through works and in one sense Luther was not wrong.

However, over the last thirty-forty years there has been a challenge to this which has become affectionately known as the “new perspective on Paul” or also known as “covenantal nomism”.  This idea has predominantly been developed through the work of E.P. Sanders, James Dunn, N.T. Wright and many more, who show that the “old perspective” was extremely deficient in its understanding of Paul and Second-Temple Judaism.  It is worth noting that for the academics who held firmly to the Reformers views, this initially did not set well and some even warned people to stay away from such thinking (see John Piper for that faulty argument).

Nevertheless, the first-century Palestinian Jews have suffered at the hands of the early Catholic’s and Martin Luther’s bad anthropology.  It stemmed from figures like Ignatius and Augustine who believed that the Jewish Law was part of some legalistic merit-theology within Judaism. This is to say, that to the extent the Jews could follow the Law they could thereby amass good works and compensate for sin so to become justified before God.  The new perspective revealed that this was never the case, but rather Israel’s salvation always rested on God’s covenant of grace made with Abraham (Genesis 12:2-3) and any good Second-Temple Jew, including Paul, knew that.  Evidence that this was part of Jewish religious thinking comes from a hymn at the end of the Community Rule of Qumran scroll (1QS 11.11-15):

As for me, I stumble, the mercies of God shall be my eternal salvation. If I stagger because of the sin of flesh, my justification shall be by the righteousness of God which endures forever… He will draw me near by his grace, and by his mercy will he bring my justification. He will judge me in the righteousness of his truth and in the greatness of his goodness he will pardon my sins. Through his righteousness he will cleanse me of the uncleanness of man and of the sins of the children of men.[2]       
            
So then, what was the point of the Law?  The Law had a multifunctional role in Israel’s self-understanding: in one facet it is what to set them apart from the rest of the world, in another facet, God made it the central avenue for Israel to be faithful to God through fidelity to God.  And yet in another facet, it would also be the way to re-manifest God’s work through people in the world.  At its core, the Abrahamic/Mosaic covenants still required faith in God’s work of grace if the Jews were to really invest and commit their entire lives to its practice, even in the face of uncertainty (just like in Christianity).  It was precisely because Luther was shaping his doctrine on false Augustinian thinking, as-well-as his own European racial prejudice towards the Jews, that he and others drew wrong and anti-Semitic interpretations on Paul and even Jesus.  This is most plainly exemplified in 2 Corinthians 3:5-11, as it has been used to set Christianity over and against Judaism all because Paul draws a stark distinction between the old and the new covenant:

… Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God, who also made us adequate as servants of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.  But if the ministry of death, in letters engraved on stones, came with glory, so that the sons of Israel could not look intently at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face, fading as it was, how will the ministry of the Spirit fail to be even more with glory? For if the ministry of condemnation has glory, much more does the ministry of righteousness abound in glory. For indeed what had glory, in this case has no glory because of the glory that surpasses it. For if that which fades away was with glory, much more that which remains is in glory.

Whatever Paul was meaning here (as this could serve as a perfect text to try reinterpreting Paul for yourself), it was not painting a negative picture of Judaism as if it was God’s failed project and now we need to root out its Jewishness.  This is what Luther tried to do.  However, as Dunn has said, resting in God’s grace and faithfulness was always the axiom of Judaism, so Luther did not actually stumble onto something new by showing that the first church was teaching this.[3]  Paul knew Judaism was not distinct from Jesus (or what was becoming Christianity) but that Judaism had in fact reached new levels of fruition in Christ’s work.   

This then raises the question, if Paul and his Jewish contemporaries knew that salvation was wrapped up in God’s grace and faith, what was justification all about? (To be continued)    



[1] A.E. McGrath. Dictionary of Paul and His Letters (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity 1993), 518.
[2]  Geza Vermes. The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English (New York: Penguin Press, 1997), 116.
[3] James D.G. Dunn, ed: J. K. Beilby & P. R. Eddy. Justification: Five Views (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press 2011), 182.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Zoo Theology: A Perspective on Ecology

I was recently walking around the zoo with my wife and kids and I had something of a revelation that I amusingly decided to call zoo theology… hear me out on this.  From time to time in the areas of science, philosophy and theology the question is raised, what separates humans from the rest of the animal kingdom?  On the side of science they would most often say, not much.  We have opposable thumbs which have allowed us to do some special things like make tools and so forth, but it is no different than the special features that other species uniquely posses.  We are an equal part of the animal kingdom and at the end of the day we are nothing terribly special.
 
On the philosophical and theological side (and yes I am going to intermingle them, though a fair share of philosophy streams do agree with science... humor me) they say there is a lot that separates us.  We have the ability to contemplate our own existence; we can compose music, write literature and create art, none of which was actually necessary for the survival of our species in the evolutionary process. Certainly we are above animals and are something special!

Though this may sound like an argument between the melancholy and egocentric both have valid points to offer.  As science says rightly, we are one-of-many intricate parts of the biological kingdom within one-of-many eco-systems that exists within in a ridiculously vast universe. Yet, we also have the ability to be contemplators of it all and operate in unusually creative avenues.  Perhaps both sides could add to this so to strengthen their positions and even attempt to explain the other a way, but I have a different alternative. 
        
            My “epiphany” that I observed happening in the zoo setting to some degree embraces both points.  I realized what really separates humans from animals was not that we ourselves are not animals, but we are the one species with the ability to care for all other species (including our own) in ways they could never do for each other or us in return; and we regularly do it at the risk of our own safety.  We can be loving towards them even when they cannot for us, we provide medical attention for their well-being, and we can contemplate and comprehend their existence enough to know their role in our world and creatively enable them to continue existing in that way, even in the face of extinction.  We have a profound influence in our world that does only belong to us.  
  

What makes this theological is that is also based on the assumption that humans are the species made in the image of God (Gen. 1:26) but to what extent do we bear His likeness?  Well I think it is safe to say that it is not in our anthropomorphisms (i.e. our physical attributes) it is perhaps in what is said after the image-bearing statement. It was qualified in God’s saying that we would reign (hdr)) radah) over the animal kingdom and eco-systems (Gen. 1:26-28), though this could just as well have been understood as “take responsibility for it.”  This may not wrap up every way we bear God's likeness, but it is something we see God regularly do for us.  It would then seem that those we have deemed tree-hugging environmentalists are doing something right as it is in our ability to creatively care for and influence the animal kingdom and eco-systems (for the better)  that we in some sense naturally fulfill our role as God’s image bearers.  Surely this has much broader implications for human character and action, but I will let you think through that one.  

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Misplaced Loyalties

          Lately I have been reading Walter Brueggemann’s The Prophetic Imagination and in it he raises an interesting thought that I want to reflect on.  This could be summed up as “God’s accessibility for all.”  We need to ask ourselves the question, does the Church-community’s action enable others to find the accessible God of the Bible, or have we fully subordinated Him to be a tool for our agendas?  Brueggmann points out that there is a tricky tension between God’s freedom and God’s accessibility in which Christian leadership and subsequent laypersons bear the role and responsibility to “assert the freedom of God that tempers the notion of accessibility.”[1]  

         To use Brueggmann’s example, prior to Israel’s expulsion from their land (and presumably the road to the breaking-point that caused their exile), Israel has two very different social orders.  In Exodus we have Moses and the rest of the Hebrews working with God to create a counterculture within the world.  This community worked for economic equality, rather than individual surplus (Exod. 16:15-18), they abide by a politics that worked for justice and opposed oppression (Lev. 25:35-42) and they maintained a view of, and relationship with, God that embraced God’s freedom to move and dwell among the people (Exod. 33:15-16; 19-20).[2]

            However, by 1 Kings, Solomon had managed to counteract what God had begun (too bad he didn’t make better use of that wisdom).  Solomon, in a short time, amassed much wealth by prizing an “economics of affluence” over equality (1 Kings 4:20-23).  While this may have reduced worries about survival for some, it came at a cost to others who worked toward Israel’s affluence but never received its benefits as Solomon used forced labor to build the nice homes the laborers would never live in and work the wine vineyards they would never drink from (1 Kings 5:13-18; 9:15-22).[3]  Never mind that it only recreated the oppressive-affluence the Hebrews previously suffered under Egyptian rule, but no matter who is behind it oppression and affluence tend to need each other. 

More to the point, Solomon could have never done this without the right theological sanctions which he seemed to adopt (and arguably so) from other pagan social practices. This allowed him to erect his personal shrine to God and create a “static religion”.  In a sense, God is robbed of His freedom and becomes part of the royal landscape. Solomon secluded God’s presence to the temple where He would dwell forever (1 Kings 8:12-13).  I do not say this only because the Mosaic solution is counteracted but where before God was initiating movement, now He is put on call for Solomon’s needs and all access to Him is limited and controlled by the royal court.[4]    

            While it would be all too easy to conclude that Solomon was just a bad person and a corrupted leader, we would do better to ask how the Church has acted the same way. We are guilty of robbing God of His freedom to move and to move us thereby limiting God’s accessibility for others. 

One way I see it is in our notion that we can legislate Christian morality on those who do not hold our convictions.  For example, the hot-button issue of abortion stems from the Christian belief that life is sacred, not because life alone is inherently sacred but rather it is sacred because we believe it is authored by and is an extension of our holy God.  If all we do is put laws against people, in the name of God, who do not know or believe that it not only turns them away from God, but stifles God’s freedom to move us into more creative avenues to bring His accessibility.  If we are to be a counterculture, we need fresh approaches to all situations.  One alternative (specific to abortion) could be for us to become a presence (apart from protesting) at abortion clinics and sacrifice our personal time, resources and finances to help women who would at least be willing to carry their baby to term and if possible longer.  On the other side of it, we could be a source of non-judgmental comfort, compassion and burden-bearing for those who felt like they had no choice and aborted their baby (even though we don’t agree with the decision).  The bigger point is, God moves in all situations, but we are often too busy being offended or worrying about self-interest or only doing what inconveniences us the least to know when God has moved.  But that doesn’t fulfill our role as functionaries for God’s accessibility.     

By all means, I would love input; what are your thoughts?  Are there ways in which you believe we stifle God’s freedom and accessibility?  Do you have creative solutions that reflect more of God and less of us? 



[1] Walter Brueggemann. The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press 2001), 29.
[2] Ibid, 31.
[3] Ibid, 27.

[4] Ibid, 28-29.