Archived Posts For 2007 October
can love be defined purely by motive?
Posted on October 9, 2007 by Geoff Matheson
Filed Under Emerging Questions | 4 Comments
Conversations I’ve had with people both online and off in response to the “God is love. But what is love?” post have caused a few different people to ask the very pertinent question: “Is love more about motive than it is the specific action?” It’s a question that has an obvious pat answer, but that pat answer has some pretty significant implications. I want to say “yes, of course”. In fact, some of the opinion I’ve heard is that a loving action is only about motive, rather than what the action itself is.
It’s a “feel-good” opinion. It makes lots of nice sense. But then when you think about it, it can get really scary. Because suddenly, a whole bunch of things that we’ve decided are bad things to do, must be considered “loving acts“. Euthanasia - if committed out of genuine concern and love for someone would therefore be a loving thing. You can figure out for yourself, specific actions that you’d consider to be bad things, that with this understanding of love, must be considered to be loving acts.
So, is love just about motive, or are some actions inherently unloving? Keep in mind, we’re not tackling the issue of whether or not these actions still qualify as sins - that’s a bigger one that we might approach later.
is the OT a metaphor for this age?
Posted on October 8, 2007 by Gerry Beimers
Filed Under Bible Study | 7 Comments
In a comment to the post God is love. But what is love? Reinhard said, “the OT does several important things. It acts as a metaphor for this age (the time between Christ’s ascention and return),…”
I have a great difficulty with this statement about the Old Testament being a metaphor for this age. Sure, there are places where we can allegorise the actual historical story into a spiritual application, but I very much doubt that the OT is such a metaphor. Why? Well lets see if the metaphor works for example with:
Deut 13:6-11 “Suppose someone secretly entices you—even your brother, your son or daughter, your beloved wife, or your closest friend—and says, ‘Let us go worship other gods’—gods that neither you nor your ancestors have known. 7 They might suggest that you worship the gods of peoples who live nearby or who come from the ends of the earth. 8 But do not give in or listen. Have no pity, and do not spare or protect them. 9 You must put them to death! Strike the first blow yourself, and then all the people must join in. 10 Stone the guilty ones to death because they have tried to draw you away from the LORD your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt, the place of slavery. 11 Then all Israel will hear about it and be afraid, and no one will act so wickedly again.
I’m scratching my head what the metaphor here might be.
Or let’s jump to the first 9 chapters of 1 Chronicles. That’s nine chapters of genealogy! I’m struggling to find a metaphor there too.
And on I could go, but I won’t. The Old Testament is about the history of God’s dealing with humanity moving from broad interaction to specific interaction with a nation that he had a special covenantal relationship with. Drilling down to his son who came to restore all of humanity. The cycle of creation, fall, redemption is played out in the grand narrative of our scripture.
The seriously brutal injunction of Deuteronomy 13 is about rigorous maintenance of the covenantal relationship. The genealogy of 1 Chron. radically demonstrates that our meta-narrative is well and truly anchored in history. These are not metaphorical concerns, these drill to the heart of me being able to trust the story of my faith.
Or perhaps you disagree?
God is love, but what is love?
Posted on October 3, 2007 by Geoff Matheson
Filed Under Emerging Questions | 14 Comments
Had big discussions on Monday evening in our small group when we were planning on discussing Bec’s “Pick and Mix” post. The conversation was hijacked and diverted to the point that we were talking about one of the big ugly questions: dealing with God killing people in the Old Testament. Lots of people. Entire tribes. Which is a big deal.
I suggested that my baseline for any theology revolves around the very simple statement that “God is love”. Just about anything else I believe about God has to go through this filter. Thus, my problem with God wiping out tribes, etc. But the “God is love” thing is more central to me than having to have a great explanation for everything that I don’t understand in the Old Testament. So my very learned and wise friend Brian (Bri-Bri for those who know him well) who also believes that God is love, suggested that perhaps the issue is with my human limitations of what love means.
He suggested that my understanding as a 21st century western pseudo-post-modern white man of what “love” is must surely look differently to that of a first century Jew or Roman. Which must be accurate. So where I see violence and killings as bad things, it’s possible, under a different understanding of what is loving and good, to see those actions as being loving and true. But it leaves me in a nasty spot.
Because without that reference point: huge chunks of my assumptions about what it means to be following the heart of God are gone, or at least clouded. The assumption that it’s not God’s will for people to die from preventable diseases could just be wrong - it could well just be my faulty understanding of what death is all about, and my modernist assumption of a right to life. But my gut tells me that’s not quite right either.
Does the fact that my understanding of what “God is love” means would be vastly different to a first century believer change how I should act? I realise I’m getting over-theoretical about something that’s ultimately worked out best in “just doing it”, but I guess I’m hoping that there’s value in wrestling with this stuff. Do we need to be more holistic or broad in our understanding of what is love and loving?
failing sunday school
Posted on October 1, 2007 by Laura Beimers
Filed Under Bible Study, Emerging Questions | 5 Comments
Sam is a pranic healer, studying to be a naturopath, and has some church background. Whenever I take a casual shift at work with Sam, conversations tend to run down wildly complex and thought provoking paths. Amidst my questions about pranic healing, chakras, auras and enery, and his about church, Jesus, how I view God and the spiritual encounters I’ve had; we often end up taking a lot longer to get our work done.
In talking about Jesus a few weeks ago he said something I’ve been pondering over, “I believe Jesus has so many good teachings to help us live.”
In thinking on it further that evening I realized how much emphasis my church experience has placed on what Jesus does for me, an individual. We accept grace so easily, so much more easily than we accept the teaching of Jesus about how to live out the Kingdom of God practically. The phrase “the teachings of Jesus” sat with me for a long time. I don’t think I’ve ever come across something that sounded so strange in the light of what I’ve seen Christianity made out to be…. and that scares me.
The Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 5-7, leaves me wondering if the eternal life we are given by Jesus actually eventuates with us practicing the life Jesus taught (and lived).
Quite disturbingly at the end of the Sermon on the Mount I came across a seemingly familiar story I thought I knew, the story about the man who built his house on the rock and the man who built his house on the sand (Matthew 7:24-27). I can still recall the Sunday school song we use to sing and to be honest I think I could pull out all the actions to it as well. But it seems Sunday school taught the wrong story. I never knew it came at the end of the Sermon on the Mount.
So what is it about? It’s about choosing God (building on the rock) or not choosing God (building on the sand), right? Right? Actually, it’s not. Verse 24 says it all, “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.” Go read the story (four verses… it won’t take long).
The story becomes even more challenging when linked with the words Jesus brings to the crowd just before it:
“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’”
