Leeway: Givens Part 3

I have been confronted with some issues recently that coalesce nicely with the next two “givens” I want to address. One of these concerns the future resurrection of the dead who believed in Jesus for salvation while they were alive. This resurrection is one of several aspects of Christianity that could be termed outlandish—or, if you prefer, miraculous. I have achieved a firm faith in Jesus Christ through the years, but that does not mean that it is a blind faith that avoids considering these “outlandish” claims that hold such a prominent place in the Bible and my thinking. I suppose I could say that my faith has been strengthened primarily by two perceptions. One is that the moral doctrines of the Bible make abundant sense to me, both on an intellectual and emotional level. Certain acts that are declared by God’s spokesmen as sin are almost universally agreed upon—murder, theft, and rape, for example. Meanwhile some are debated—premarital sex, abortion, and lying, among others—but from my standpoint they can be acceptably argued to the conclusion that they are indeed wrong. I will have to save that defense for another day, but for now I will say that simply because we have a strong desire towards something that we perceive as desirable to us and harmful to no one, that alone does not suffice as a legitimate reason to fulfill that desire. I believe feelings of guilt and shame are largely natural (or “built in” to us, if you will) and that people who are virulent in their support for these debated behaviors are in most cases quite obviously attempting to suppress this guilt. I have long felt that the more boisterous and confrontational someone is in defending a position, the less certain they are of its validity. I cannot recall hearing a defense of adultery that was not accompanied by a palpable smugness and arrogance, two attributes to which we as humans tend to have a natural—I would say God-given—aversion. Those who are humble in their argumentation are almost assuredly convinced of the certainty of those arguments. So, much like C. S. Lewis, the premiere Christian apologist of the last century, I accept a priori that an integral part of our humanity is a moral law of which we are all innately aware.

The second perception that strengthens my faith is merely considering the alternative philosophies. I have gained enough knowledge of the theory of evolution to be totally convinced of its utter insufficiency. The lack of transition fossils, the lack of experimental verification, and the lack of any reasonable explanation for life appearing from nonliving matter, or the existence of matter at all—each of these are fundamental problems that still have no consensus among the very people who hold to the theory. Evolution has always seemed to me a blatant reactionary belief system that is more about rejecting traditional religious beliefs than standing on its own merits. The best-spoken evolutionists are quite honest about the deficiencies of the theory, but plenty of adherents to this belief system are jarringly antagonistic.

Obviously the alternatives to Christianity also include other religions, but none of these strikes me as containing the same level of realism as is found in the Bible—for all its quirks, the Bible portrays a realistic human condition in key aspects of sociology and philosophy. For instance many of the statements made by the authors of the Bible are not ones that provide any sort of personal or material gain to them. They were highly controversial, yet at their core they contain a level of truth that is hard to ignore. The theme of these assertions is that we should avoid certain behaviors and strive to conform to specific moral standards while still maintaining an incredible level of individuality. The Bible itself has always come across to me as a book that demands that I think for myself—and unfortunately this characteristic of the book is not often promoted in churches and other religious organizations. On a certain level, this is understandable—people want to believe that the precepts in the Bible have been systematized to the point where those who adhere to the Bible should also readily adhere to this systematic structure of its contents. I believe that many theologians in the past have pursued systemization with the best of intentions while some have not. Regardless, my primary concern as a free-thinking individual is reading the Bible in a straightforward way and attempting as best I can to discard any preconceived notions that I or anyone else may have, no matter how noble our intentions in creating them. This means that a passage of scripture that many label a mystery may not be such a mystery after all, if you strive to view it in the proper perspective—what was the author most probably thinking as he wrote this, and why did he do so?

The main point of all of this is my third “given” that governs what I write on this website—the leeway principle. This principle essentially states that because of the lack of direct clarification from God himself concerning the difficult aspects of Christianity, and because God would be more than capable of this direct clarification if he so chose, we as human beings have clearly been given a certain measure of leeway as we attempt to understand the Bible and organize its doctrines in our minds. Instead of trying to identify God’s ultimate plan with too much precision, I believe that God’s plan fundamentally includes this leeway, which in turn encourages more effort on our part to understand his most important truths. The fundamental assertion of Christianity is plain. All human beings have sinned by violating the aforementioned moral law (as outlined by various biblical commands) and thus need some means of being reconciled to God in order to abide in heaven (an unfathomable yet wonderful existence, whatever that may be) with him forever. Jesus Christ, the essence of God in human form, sufficiently provided this means by living a sinless life and suffering death, thus sacrificing himself on our behalf by receiving the punishment for our sins. We are commanded only to believe by faith that because of this act Jesus is our means of reconciliation to God—in other words Jesus is our Savior. At that point God’s Spirit interacts with us in such a way that our desires and thoughts become progressively oriented towards him throughout the remainder of our lives, steadily causing us to become more like Jesus himself though never achieving his level of perfection until we are in heaven. One integral aspect of Jesus’s sacrificial act is that he resurrected a few days later and ascended to heaven in some type of perfect (or glorified) state which we will also assume at our future resurrection. Now we come full circle in this discourse and deal once again with this “outlandish” resurrection claim. My own feelings about it include some amount of uncertainty coupled with an intellectual persuasion that it will happen—I don’t necessarily become joyful when I think about it, even though I know it will be joyful when it happens. This I think is natural—anxiety is always coupled with the unknown, and the fact remains that none of us truly knows what that resurrection day will be like. One key to witnessing to those who don’t believe in Christianity is not to use buzzwords like “joyful” or “glorious” to describe certain truths if we don’t truly feel that way about them ourselves. Being honest about our own responses to the lofty or outlandish aspects of our faith can only be beneficial in the long run. I can safely share with others certain times of my Christian life that I consider truly joyful—the day I accepted Christ, and a couple of other days where I felt God’s Spirit inside of me in a remarkable, empowering way. Because I experienced them firsthand, I can express a genuine joy. I can also express my feelings of guilt and depression that I have felt strongly at certain times, but that caused me to grow and learn vitally. But when I consider future events such as the resurrection and seeing God personally for the first time, I am much more possessed by feelings of awe and anxiety than rapturous joy. When Paul addressed the Thessalonians in his letters, he spent considerable time clarifying questions they had about the resurrection, assuring them that it would be a joyous day. But until that day, they were clearly full of questions and feelings of uncertainty, otherwise Paul would not have had to compose the letters in the way that he did, urging them “not to be quickly shaken in mind or alarmed” (2 Thess. 2:2) and desiring that God would “comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word” (2 Thess. 2:17).

The outlandish aspects of Christianity must be viewed in light of the wealth of moral and practical truths that comprise the core of the faith. The likelihood of the Christian spokesmen in the Bible (including Jesus himself) lying about such events as the resurrection—when their very faith is built upon a foundation of moral integrity—is nigh unacceptable to me. I do not deny that the resurrection and other biblical assertions are difficult to process mentally, but the fact remains that certain practical truths I take for granted are just as mesmerizing, such as my very existence, my ability to philosophize about reality as if I were existing outside of it, and the incredible complexity and variety and order of nature. We are not only surrounded by miracles, we are living a miracle, so the fact that our ultimate destiny is similarly miraculous tends not to bother me in the end.

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