Exploding the Sin Scale

The latest weekly installment on John Calvin. The close observer may note that it's posted at a decent hour of the day and two whole days before my prof sees it. I seem to have caught up on short-term projects and can devote some time to the long-term projects... Oh, balance you elude me.

Two years ago we experienced a fire that completely consumed my personal library. Over three thousand volumes perished in the blaze and ever since I’ve been carefully re-building my ‘precious,’ taking careful note of the recommendations of friends and professors. Each volume on the shelf, from the weighty tomes to the small handbooks represents not only the treasure of its content, but also the story of its acquisition. Every time I devote financial resources for the sake of literary expansion, I consider the loss of one well worth the gain of the other.

One of my most recent acquisitions occupies a place of honor on the reference section of my bookshelf. It even has an impressive title; it’s the ‘Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament based on Semantic Domains’. I can be a bit of a snob about my books and I began my quest for this particular gem looking for a new copy. I found one online for the low, low bargain price of 480.00. Choking and spitting, I laid my snobbery aside and began perusing the used copies from various resellers. Descending from three hundred into the two hundreds I began to despair of finding an affordable copy of this must-have resource. Digging deep, I finally found a copy for sixty bucks, shipping included! In my mind, I saved a bundle of money, got the book and preserved a happy marriage.

Everyone uses comparisons to judge the value or cost of economic items. We compare every item we consider purchasing against an internal scale of value, often set by an ‘anchor,’ which can be quite arbitrary. In the case of my dictionary purchase, the new price set the anchor by which to compare other copies. Choosing one thing over another, we decide that possessing it brings us greater utility (value) than retaining the money we use to buy it. Billions of times every day, purchases and trades occur according to that internal value scale.

Comparing the cost of my book to other prices convinced my internal value scale that I had found a bargain, but the scale doesn’t only work for economic costs. We determine the cost of moral behavior in much the same way. As we compare ourselves to others around us, we pleasantly evaluate our good behaviors and decry our weaknesses, the few that we actually find. We even use the Ten Commandments as a set of moral guidelines by which we measure our success or failure. Reading “you shall not murder” leads us to a positive evaluation of our character. This positive evaluation assumes, of course, that we have not taken the life of another human being. John Calvin points out that the negative command also assumes a positive character; and the degree of the command extends in proportion to the prohibition. Wordy, I know, but the meaning is this: If I must not kill, then I must do my utmost to promote life. This expansion of the value scale places comparatively minor sins on the losing side of the equation. Calvin says this:

"In considering vices we are often deceived because we reduce their importance if they are a a little bit hidden; so the Lord draws us back from this deception and accustoms us to putting each fault under a category by which we can better understand how we ought to loath it."

The question for us all is not, “Have I killed anyone today?” nor is it “Have I hated anyone?” These may not be exactly equal, but they exist on the same side of the value scale: the bad side. The real question is, “have I done my utmost to love my fellow man today?” Against this standard, we deeply feel our need for God’s grace and enablement to fulfill the absolute opposite of killing, namely, love our fellow man or woman so much that we do all we can to promote life.

Whipping pigs for tastier bacon?

I am currently teaching an Ethics course at Indiana State Penitentiary. It has been a fun course to teach to that audience. Last week I brought in some ethical dilemmas so that we could test a few ethical theories and see where they took us. One of the dilemmas was whether it was morally acceptable to whip pigs to death if the result was tastier pork meat. Tastier meat would make eaters of pork happy. So, for example, utilitarian ethical theory would state that whatever brings happiness to the most amount of people is the ethically correct thing to do. If the group is pleased by tastier bacon then whipping pigs to death is the right thing to do. What is interesting here is that utilitarians cannot ultimately answer the question of, "is this decision morally correct?" until after they have tasted the bacon. The reason being is that they wont know if the happiness the group experienced from eating the bacon outweighed the potential pain their consciences may feel at torturing pigs. It is very possible that a group would salivate over tasty bacon and then as the whipping goes on, feel nauseated at what they are doing. As they eat the bacon, they may regret what they have done. So what started out as a "moral" thing to do (because the group thought it would make them happy), has now become immoral because of the pain it brought (the group is very unhappy). This is an incredible weakness in the utilitarian argument. If I cannot know my decisions are moral until after the event, then what help is it in deciding which course of action to take before the event?

From a Christian perspective, we are able to utilize God's commands which are based off of his revealed character in His Word. One of the problems for this ethical theory is that the Scriptures do not address every single ethical decision we might need answered. We often have to extrapolate God's ancient commands to today's situations (i.e. think hermeneutics and application of Scripture). I am curious to know how Christian readers of this blog would answer the question, "is it morally correct (from a Christian perspective) to whip pigs to death if it produced tastier pork?" Since the Scripture is quiet about this specific act, what should we base our decision on? I have some thoughts that I will post later.

Punking John Calvin

This latest installment considers the second chapter of Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion: 'Of the Knowledge of Man and Free Will.' Calvin has a pretty low view of man's ability to understand the gospel apart from God's direct action. I'm not so sure, so I examined two of the references he uses to prove his point. I think he misses the Apostle John's use of light and darkness as demonstrated below.

The second chapter of Calvin’s Institutes concerns the abilities, or rather disabilities of man. Here’s a paraphrase of one part: You suck at thinking, especially about God. In this section, Calvin considered the philosophers attempts to understand God, and recognized their inability and recommends considering Scripture as more valuable than reason.

As Calvin considers passages in the gospel of John to establish his point, he cites John 1:4-5 and 1:10. The conclusion he draws from these portions reads thus:

"For by these words he (John) well teaches that the human soul is somewhat illuminated by the light of God so that it is never devoid of some flame, or at least of some spark. But likewise he notes that it cannot understand God by this illumination [Jn. 1:10]. Why not? Because with regard to the knowledge of God all its spirit is pure obscurity, for when the Holy Spirit calls people ‘darkness’ He strips them of every faculty of spiritual understanding."

If I understand his point correctly, Calvin stated that (1) the light of God attempts to illuminate man’s darkened mind and (2) the darkness equals a complete absence of spiritual understanding. Checking all of Calvin’s Scripture references daunts the hardiest of souls, but this one struck me as important. How did Calvin understand the Apostle John? Does John use the idea of ‘darkness’ in as absolute a sense as Calvin seems to? How does John use the idea of ‘light’? Fortunately, John uses the idea of darkness in only a few places, often in contrast to the idea of light.

The specific word for darkness used in Calvin’s citations occurs as a figurative usage for ‘darkening of the mind or spirit’ . John seems particularly fond of this usage and it occurs in Jn. 1:5ab, 8:12, 12:35a and perhaps b, and 12:46. Similar usage is rare outside John, one usage in Matthew 4:16 and several further usages in 1 John. John uses the term literally twice, to refer to actual darkness (Jn. 6:17, 20:1 and perhaps 12:35). John consistently uses this word for opposition to ‘the light’ which he explicitly reveals in several contexts.

John 8:12: “Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world; he who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life.”

John 12:46: “I have come as light into the world, so that everyone who believes in me will not remain in darkness.”

The concept of darkness as spiritual understanding presented in John does resonate with Calvin’s usage to a point. Those who are outside the light remain in spiritual ignorance. There may be an inconsistency in Calvin’s usage of ‘the light.’ Calvin presents the light as a general illumination from God with no mention of the person of Christ, a usage foreign to John. In John, the light specifically refers to the person of Christ. Calvin presents darkness as man’s stubborn ignorance that resists illumination. John presents darkness as a condition of men who reject the person of Christ. When John writes in his first chapter that: “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (Jn 1:5), he specifically refers to the rejection of Christ by the spiritually darkened men of the time. This cursory examination of a small portion of the available data suggests further study of Calvin’s use of darkness in John's Gospel.

In order to properly consider how Calvin understands John, I would need to refer to Calvin's commentaries, research journals and scholarly commentaries. The tentative conclusion at the end reflects the need for further study.

The Glenn Beck of the Sixteenth Century?

I'm taking a class on John Calvin and our weekly reading summaries take the form of a blog post highlighting something that 'struck' us from the reading. Here's the latest installment:

John Calvin’s world was filled with turmoil. Religious tensions in France forced him into exile in Geneva, where he wrote a pastoral and theological guide called: Institutes of the Christian Religion. He wrote it originally in Latin, the scholarly language of the day and translated it into French to be an aid to his countrymen. In the Dedication to the French king, Calvin describes these tensions, which had political, economic and religious facets like this:

"Thus from the individual vices of a number of people have come public error, or rather a common consent to vice which these valiant men want now to consider as law. Those who are not completely blind will see that practically oceans of evil have inundated the earth and the whole world is infected by a number of deadly plagues – in short, that everything is fallen into ruin so that one must either despair of the human condition, or put such evils in order even by extreme remedies."

Wait a minute?! Is that John Calvin or Glenn Beck? The modern and pre-modern political commentators note the importance of individual virtue for public good, an idea that echoes throughout human history. Individuals harbor their little vices, which then bleed into public errors and the culture shifts to an expectation of vice. The expectation of vice grows and infects everything that it touches, until the culture eats itself and like the proverbial Phoenix, and a new culture (political, religious, or social) rises from the ashes. It’s nothing really new, just history.

I’m no saint, nor am I a politician, but I have seen the face of evil by dealing daily with my adopted daughter’s mental illness, caused, at least at some level, by the abuse she suffered as a little girl. The financial, personal and societal costs continue to mount in the application of hoped-for remedies to close this one little part of the destruction wrought ultimately by a culture which turns a blind eye to ‘little’ problems. Little gaps in virtue… downloading music because ‘everybody does it’ means that it’s okay to steal. Stealing a little bit of data might lead into stealing love from our spouse: an ‘acceptable’ level of lust. The lust that gnaws at the fabric of marriage until the basic unit of society shifts from a lifelong commitment to a social contract open to all, dropped as quickly as the deposit on your apartment and for about the same cost. The destruction of family…

John Calvin’s alienation from his homeland resulted from the long, slow corruption of the Roman Catholic Church that led to war, exile, death and homelessness. At long last, the ‘extreme remedies’ were applied: intellectually by scholars and practically by pastors and the laity. He died in exile from his homeland, paying that price and more for his contributions to the Christian faith. He quoted Habbakuk 1:2, “How long, O Lord?” on the title page of the Institutes. As I view the political, religious and social problems in our society, Habakkuk resonates with me, too.

Intensity vs Apathy?

Reading Bruce Gordon’s Calvin, I’m struck in the first few chapters by the intensity of the 1500’s. Political and religious forces work together attempting to forge a unified society wherein every religious choice has political implications, and vice versa. Ideas rock the foundations of society as new forms of Christianity fight for intellectual and political credibility. These ideas spring forth from a renewed interest in the original languages of Scripture and more reliable understanding of its meaning.

The awakening of interest in the original sources and languages of the Christian faith leading up to the Reformation reveals contradictions between the source of the faith (the Bible) and the practices of Catholic Christianity. These contradictions led to an unsuccessful attempt at reform within the Roman Catholic Church. Convinced of the need for a Bible-based Christianity, reformers begin rending themselves from the Catholic Church. While this sounds to modern ears as a simple transition from the one church to another church across town (or across the street), in the 1500’s you were either in the church or outside it. There were no options within Christianity; only hell itself awaits those who step away from the church.
As the ideas of the Reformers percolate through society, the Roman Catholic Church is losing her grip on the enforcement of doctrinal unity over the common people, the intellectual classes and the political leadership. Wealthy and influential political leaders risk power and position to protect leading Reformation thinkers and sway public opinion toward the burgeoning Reformed faith(s). Political power and influence combine with religious ideology in an environment where your religious beliefs could cost your position, your economic security, or your life. In this intense political and religious environment, several leading thinkers achieve both notoriety and fame engaging these ideas -and occasionally each other- in the pulpit and in print.

The intensity of the time is matched by the intensity of personality and intellect among the Reformers. John Calvin is one of these men, whose plans for the career of a scholar and author transmogrify into the leadership of one faction within the larger Reformation movement. This man, who desired literary study became a powerful force in the rupture of Protestantism from the Roman Catholic Church.

Does contemporary Christianity lack this intensity? Perhaps we don’t have the same critical need for theological reform, but it seems that our focal points lack the intense intellectual study of the Bible that made the Reformation such a resonating force in the history of the church. It seems the best we can muster is passion for the loving Christ at the expense of the doctrinal Christ. You remember, don’t you? The Christ who overturned tables and made a whip to drive out the money-changers in the temple? What about His mild-mannered followers? No confrontation there, right? What about the screaming mob in Ephesus, shouting out blasphemous adoration of their false goddess, Aphrodite? Paul had to be stopped from going into the amphitheater to defend (argue intellectually for) Christianity.

While I’m sure that John Calvin and I would disagree theologically on many points. I sure do admire the man’s passionate commitment to his ideas and to his Lord. In our emasculated Christian love-fest, perhaps it’s time we grew a pair, hit the books, and engaged in vigorous debate about things that really matter.

The Ubiquity of Self-Interest

I recently purchased a gently used car from a fellow student who was in a bit of a jam. The balloon payment for the car had wiped out his savings and he faced an oncoming school year in need of a job and short on resources. He had a variable asking price and offered me the lowest price he was willing to take. I made a larger counter offer. You might accuse me of arrogantly proclaiming my virtue, but in all honesty, offering a larger price was still in my own self interest.

Economists discuss the value one places on something using the neutral term, ‘utility.’ Utility is the value someone places on an object, a principle or an action. Just about any interaction between people can be assigned a ‘utility’ value. How many ‘utils’ of value would you place on the time you are spending to read this? Obviously, it is of greater utility to you than (insert alternative activity), because you are still reading… Perhaps you just stopped, realizing that the utility value of reading about utils is less valuable than the next episode of Top Chef. I certainly won’t try to make a persuasive case against good cooking, but the idea of utility is important. Several research questions come to my mind: Does God act in His own self interest? Does God appeal to our self-interest to influence our relationship with Him? Are our sacrificial acts really in accord with a different self-interest?

I’ll take shot at the last question and leave the others for another time. When I paid more than my friend’s asking price was I ignoring my own self interest? I could have made a lower offer… In actuality, I wanted to make sure that my friend did not feel that I had taken improper advantage of our relationship in a business transaction. The utility value of fair dealing with a good friend was of greater value to me than the money charged in the transaction. I paid a slightly higher price than I could have, but gained a necessary vehicle in good condition and ensured good relations with my friend. All in accordance with my own selfish desires. Can you think of an example where you cannot identify some aspect of self-interest in an interaction with another person? I’m starting to think that self interest is ubiquitous.

Why Disney Will Never Make a Movie about Athanasius...

If you have young kids than you have probably become an expert on Disney films and have been able to see the patterns and guess the moral of the story before the denouement occurs. Normally a marginalized character faces adversity and overcomes in the end. With the mantra of "just believe in yourself" being the key to the solution of the protagonist's problems, we leave the experience with renewed expectations on our own life. As a sidenote, I credit American Idol's success to this mantra. Especially in the early stages of the season when the audience gets to see deluded people who genuinely believe in themselves and yet unfortunately cannot combine that belief with any talent.

With this in mind, Athanasius may seems like a shoe-in for a Disney film. Athanasius was a Church Father who was influential in the 4th century. He was marginalized throughout his life by being repeatedly banished by the emperor and being called "the black dwarf", because of his skin color and short stature by those who opposed him. If I were to stop here, I think everyone would agree that this has all the necessary ingredients of a Disney movie.

But I doubt we will ever see a Disney movie about Athanasius, and here is why; Athanasius was one of the primary advocates against Arianism (the belief that Jesus Christ was not divine), and argued relentlessly for the scriptural teaching that Jesus was not only divine but also that unless Jesus was divine he could not have procured our salvation. This is a powerful argument which casts the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus in a cosmic redemptive context and keeps us from falling into the trap that Jesus was a just a good man or a good teacher or a good martyr who "believed in himself."

We owe a lot to Athanasius for the work he did in arguing for this biblical position amongst the believers of his day. Arianism still exists today in various forms. Hopefully, the theological descendants of Athanasius will continue to argue, persuade and suffer so that the whole world will come to a clear understanding of the scriptural doctrine of the deity of Jesus Christ.