Oy vey...

....wit da poodles already!!

Morning sickness my eye - this is more like "all day, whenever" sickness...and sleep isn't even sacred.  Argh.  Dahmon bought me some wrist bands that have a plastic knob that apply pressure to some pressure points in my wrist that help the nausea go down...thank God!  Healing pressure points are wonderful things.

You know what has me in awe right now?  According to websites, our baby is about the size of a grape (we'll know more when we go in for the ultrasound on the 8th).  I didn't even know it was growing within me until last Monday, and already its little nervous system, circulatory system, and every other system is well under way.  If the one nurse is right and I'm at 9 weeks, then this baby's heart is already beating!  How unreal to imagine that the heart of another is beating within my uterus and one cannot even tell from looking at me yet that I'm even with child.  

It is absolutely mindblowing to think about how God orchestrates a birth.  I don't know how to feed and nourish an in utero child, but God has created my body such that it does exactly what it needs to do exactly when it needs to do it in order for this child to grown and be born healthy.  Its DNA looks completely different than mine, it is a completely different person than me, and yet I get to be a part of its creation.  God allows me to be a part of the creation of one of his precious children - how cool!!

I'm just continually in awe right now about how I don't need to tell my body what to do (wouldn't even know where to begin), but it does exactly what it needs to.  I can't even speak to my child yet, but its cells are doing exactly what they need to in order to create the systems that need to be in place.  Nothing but God and DNA are telling our mutual bodies what to do in order to function together symbiotically.

Okay, I'm ill (being married means sharing germs with your spouse, and Dahmon was super sick last week - my turn) and super tired from being sick and pregnant, and I don't think this post is capturing what I really mean.  Oh well.  Time for a nap.

We're expecting!!

*deep breath*

On Monday, I peed on a stick and an extra little pink line appeared.  My eyes got big, I went upstairs to the bedroom and showed Dahmon.  Dr's appointment was made for that afternoon, which confirmed - we are expecting our first child in March/April of next year!

The nurses I've been talking to have been disagreeing about how far along the baby is - either 4-6 weeks or 9 weeks.  The only thing for sure is that the baby would be visible to the naked eye at this point, the heart is beating, and I've definitely been feeling some symptoms - though I think since I run a lot the symptoms are lesser than they could have been.  (Note: the nurse said that I can keep running (yay!) so long as I pay attention to my body and the baby and listen when they say slow down.  No more pushing for time).

Parents on both sides are ecstatic.  Angela Fronsoe (friend from college, maid of honor at our wedding) was screaming for a full minute when told.  We've received many well wishes and congrats on Facebook (my status was OVbunEN, Dahmon was much more straightforward and just said that we are pregnant).  We're excited....and terrified!


We're living in a 3 - bedroom house in Minneapolis with Jessy and Alex, two girls we know from school and work respectively.  Our bedroom is basically the entire upstairs of the building, so we'll rearrange furniture so the baby can have one half of the room while we get the other half - for the first year / few months it will be just fine.

Oh baby!

Moving for a cause

So I run. A lot. Blame a good friend of mine from college--he got me hooked on running and now I'm addicted. Six races total this summer (if you know of a good one in the Twin Cities area, let me know...especially if it is an adventure race):

1. Hoofin' It For Haiti 5K
2. Rugged Maniac 5K (obstacle race)
3. Go Commando 5K (obstacle race)
4. Warrior Dash 5K (obstacle race)
5. Minneapolis 13.1 (half marathon)
6. Twin Cities Marathon

So adventure races are a blast, infinitely more interesting than just running on a track (5K = 10-11 obstacles for all of those mentioned above). Challenging in a different way. :)

When I started running last year, my dear brother--Daniel--asked me "Why? A bear isn't chasing you, and neither am I, so why would you do that?" Well, now he runs too, so there. :) I run because it helps overall health (sleeping, immune system, etc). I run because God gave me legs that move and I'm gonna use them. I run because I'm high-strung and need a way to get my energy out. I run because people donate money to sponsor runners.

Here is the crux of this post: This summer it is my goal to run/spin (at the gym) 300 miles between June 1 and September 1. Yeah yeah yeah, that's a big goal. A friend of mine invited me to a biking challenge of similar length during the summer, but no bike is in this lady's possession. I do have two working legs are, however, and a desire to raise money for the organization that I work for.

As some of you know, I work for an organization called World Wide Village (www.worldwidevillage.org) and we do relief work in Haiti that is focused on providing a hand up, NOT a hand out. Hand outs cultivate a sense of dependency that is just plain unhealthy for a country that is doing its best to get back on its feet. WWV operates under the "teach the person to fish" model, and we focus on projects in the areas of clean food and water, health care, micro-enterprise (by the way, if you want greeting cards, let me know--we have hand-made ones for sale!), housing, and education. WWV is a Christian organization, and it is through the love of God in our hearts and God allowing us to be a part of his plan for Haiti, and the amazing supporters that we have, that we are even able to work in that country in the first place. I was there in January (check out my travel blog here: http://msnoratravels.blogspot.com/) and fell in love with the people and the country.

This summer my running is dedicated to all of the people in Haiti who need someone to come alongside them and stand in solidarity with them. If you would like to sponsor my running at 1 cent, 10 cents, or even 100 cents (or more!) per mile, please please please let me know. More details to follow. For now, I've run 5 miles towards my goal--only 295 left to go!!

I use Runtastic.com to track running (note that right now it says I wasn't active in sports--that's only because I added the run later instead of bringing my phone with me on the run and letting the GPS track me):

Is foreign aid putting the ethical speck before the plank?

Recently submitted as ethics paper:

Is Foreign Aid Putting the Ethical Speck Before the Plank?

January 2010: a devastating earthquake rocked the small island country of Haiti. Hundreds of thousands of people died from the initial earthquake. Dozens of aftershocks killed more people and traumatized survivors, who were then devastated by cholera outbreaks and a completely crippled governmental infrastructure that made getting food to the hungry nigh impossible. January 2011: I was sent to Haiti by my employers—a 501(c)(3) non-profit that works to “transform impoverished communities” in Haiti[1]—and saw devastating poverty and its effects first-hand. March 2011: a family in Minneapolis lost their home and had to move to a homeless shelter…again—they couldn’t make rent. Tyler[2] was acting out during Bible Study at a ministry I volunteer with and the adult leaders realized he was exceptionally crabby due to hunger. His parents could not afford food. Suddenly I came face to face with extreme poverty and hunger 30 minutes from where I live as I realized Tyler is small for his age from lack of food. This child is within the borders of the U.S.A., and even he is hungry. Extreme poverty exists oceans and blocks away, yet it is an economical fact that the same $100 would either buy a couple weeks worth of groceries for Tyler or alleviate one case of kwashiorkor, the most extreme form of malnutrition, for a Haitian child. The same amount of money donated to aid foreign countries does more good as the U.S. dollar goes much further than on its own soil. Yet it would seem ethical to battle poverty in our own backyard before focusing on the needs of people in foreign countries. Is it more ethical to encourage people to keep aid money local, where it could do good for a few people within our own nation, or to have them send the same money to a foreign country where it will do good for many people?

Jesus makes it exquisitely clear that we are to “love [our] neighbor as [ourselves]” (Mark 12:31, NIV) for “[a]s I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples” (John 13:34-35, NIV). How are we to love our neighbor? One way is to bless them with our excess (i.e. not needed for survival) material and monetary wealth. Martin Luther believed that “[t]he Christian who receives grace from God must then pass it on, and…this is given concrete form in deeds and material goods; serving the neighbor thus cannot consist only in praying…but must take shape in earthly service as well” (Blanchard, 301-302). Perhaps this is why “more focus is given specifically to money than to any other subject in Jesus’ teaching. This should not be surprising, for what we do with money and possessions reveals more about our true identity and our commitments than anything else” (Snodgrass, 137). Yet “[t]he age-old question “Who is my neighbor?” has an ever-changing answer as the world gets smaller” (Blanchard, 304). Jesus seems to apply this qualifier to any human who is not me—so who exactly is this neighbor to whom I am supposed to extend love? Is it the drunken wino on the street behind me who lost his house for the second time? Is it the starving child two towns over who does not know if Mom and Dad are going to be drunk again tonight? Is it the woman who lost her entire family to the 2010 Haiti earthquake? Or the Japanese fisherman whose boat was swept out to sea during the latest tsunami? Or the thousands of children who die every day in Africa because food is a thing of dreams?

This is a question I wrestle with daily. On one hand, there are a number of easily definable benefits for deeds, material goods, and money remaining local. Children like Tyler are helped and afforded food necessary to strengthen their bodies, thereby increasing their ability to concentrate in school, successfully graduate high school, and live full, filled lives. The local economy is strengthened not only because money and resources are staying here, but also because those individuals who are helped have more potential to be contributing members of our society, culture, and country. Not to mention supporting local governmental interests and fixing our own backyard before trying to “help” a different country run programs for their poor. One could argue that in developed countries, aid remaining local is not a matter of life and death. True, developed countries see far fewer starvation and malnutrition victims, and have lower disease and crime rates. Yet for many individuals within these countries, starvation is still a fact. Indeed, “one in eight Americans struggle with the reality of hunger and food insecurity” (Real Stories, 2011). There are poor, diseased, and starving in need of aid in our own backyard—developing countries are just better at making their issues more invisible.

On the other hand, however, the U.S. dollar goes much further in a foreign country and the same amount can help more people. A starving person is a starving person, after all. Does it not make more moral sense to send one’s financial aid to a foreign country where ten people could be helped for the cost of one in the U.S.—a disturbing kind of 10 for 1 deal? Much of what could be said about the person helped locally can also be said about the person helped in a foreign country. Through the efforts of the able and caring, a person may be afforded food necessary to strengthen a body weakened by malnutrition and disease, thereby increasing their ability to participate in their local forms of education and live a full, filled life. The economy local to the person helped would also be supported as that person has a greater potential to contribute to the society, culture, and country. Their local government interests could be supported and their own backyards addressed as they see the need to help others who are now in the same position that is a part of their past. So the same kinds of results are attained in either place—the only real difference is which nation benefits from the resulting good. If we, as Christians, are supposed to live as though we are all under the Kingdom of God and not tied by man-made national lines of separation, what are we supposed to do? Am I supposed to help the child I know, Tyler, or help ten children I do not know and will never meet?

According to Aristotelian and character ethics, people flourish when they have reached their full potential and fulfillment of character. If “human good turns out to be activity of soul exhibiting excellence, and if there is more than one excellence” (e.g. lock makers being excellent lock makers, politicians being excellent politicians, etc) and each person exhibits a different excellence (Aristotle, 120), then we are each to find that which is the fulfillment of the excellence of our soul, thereby fulfilling our character. Okay, but how does that relate to the topic matter at hand? Perhaps the morality of aiding a local person vs. aiding someone in a different country has less to do with how far the money can go and more to do with the focus of one’s calling. From experience working in the field of non-profits focused both locally and abroad, it is exquisitely clear to me that people are called to aid others in particular areas. Some are led to support the building of schools rather than feed a starving child (and vice versa). Others are led to focus on the neighbor just down the street and would be mightily uncomfortable aiding a person in different country (and vice versa). Character ethics would seem to argue that one should aid where one is led/called for that is the fulfillment of that particular character trait within that particular person. Therefore, though Craig and Susie both live in the same developed country, it would be more moral for Craig to aid the wino down his street, for that is his calling, while it would be more moral for Susie to pursue her specific calling and aid orphaned children in Sudan.

Perhaps this is a matter of where one’s ethical duty lies—here Kant and deontological ethics may be able to offer some guidance. If, as Americans are taught from birth, one’s duty is to one’s countrymen, then are we not obligated to help our countrymen first? After all, with them we share common goals, a national identity, culture, etc. The United States military bases its recruiting system on playing to young persons’ sense of duty to their country; could we not do the same to justify our economically aiding those closest to us first? Yet the kind of duty Kant defines is one of “whatever is the right thing to do”—that which you would will everyone in the exact same kind of situation would do as well (MacKinnon, 82). Faced with our problem, is it preferable for everyone everywhere at every time to send their aid money to a foreign country, or is it preferable for everyone everywhere to help people within their own borders? The former of these options would strip developed countries of their ability to aid people their citizens drive past every day as all aid money would go to other nations. The latter would mean each nation were so focused on its own belly button that no one else mattered—certainly this is not what Jesus was talking about. Sorry Kant, but you are just confusing the issue. We do not live in an ideal world.

What about utilitarianism? Here we find a very straightforward answer. If, as Bentham and Mill suggested, “the best choice [is] that which promote[s] the interests of the greater number” (MacKinnon, 53) then obviously we are to send aid money wherever it will do the most good for the most number of people. If our $100 will save one person for two weeks in the United States but will also be enough to save 10 children for two weeks in a foreign country, then the latter outweighs the former and is the preferred choice. Even if the $100 is only enough to save one person in a foreign country for the rest of his or her life, this is still preferred to staying local and only helping one person for two weeks. Yet one must also take into consideration the plausibility of the intended impact. If, for example, someone could take $100 and drive Tyler to the grocery store for groceries, that is preferred to sending $100 to aid a foreign country when one knows the government is corrupt and the money may instead end up in the hands of a corrupt politician. Though it could have helped more people than just one Tyler, it can be hard to argue for the morality of donating aid to a foreign country when one knows a corrupt government is pilfering aid money away from its designation population. Indeed, even Peter Singer, a rather hardline ethicist, says “[t]he lack of certainty that by giving money I could save a life does reduce the wrongness of not giving” (Singer, 165).

The Bible is frustratingly unhelpful when applied to this particular dilemma. As mentioned before, Jesus has a keen interest in helping the poor, but he puts few qualifiers on who should be helped first. Even if one wanted to argue that we should take care of our family—obviously!...right?—one could cite Matthew 12:49-50 when he counts as his family those who fulfill the will of God, not those within his biological relation. We could also consider Luke 14:26 where he says “[i]f anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple” (NIV). Now, I do not interpret that to mean that Christians are to literally “hate” their family members, but it does support the case that putting luxurious needs of family members above the basic necessity needs of others is absurd. It also seems to support the idea of a global family. Jesus did not say “those who do God’s will who are also citizens of Rome,” but instead includes anyone who does God’s will. It is the same in Matthew 25:31-46 where we are not given qualifications for the sick, hungry, and otherwise needy we are to tend—simply because the conditions exist means they must be tended. So if someone is in need, Biblically they need tending. Given the fact that God’s family is global and that we are to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19, NIV), this is not surprising but is also not terribly helpful for answering the present question. Indeed, Christian understandings of virtue do not provide entirely clear ideas about how generous individuals are supposed to, to whom, and under what kinds of circumstances (Ferkiss, 13).

Disagreement amongst philosophical leanings does not let one off the hook for helping in the first place. Not doing anything because one is frozen by trying to figure out which is the best option is not an option. Peter Singer says “allowing someone to die is not intrinsically different from killing someone” in his argument that “people in rich countries are allowing those in poor countries to suffer from absolute poverty, with consequent malnutrition, ill health and death” (Singer, 162). The poor are the poor, there is no changing or getting around this fact. We are not afforded the luxury of ignoring their struggles merely because we cannot figure out whom to help. Singer argues it is natural for us to want to help those close to us, but that denying people in another nation help simply because we would rather prefer to help someone like us is akin to being white and denying African American people help based on the amount of melanin in their skin. After all, “[e]very affluent nation has some relatively poor citizens, but absolute poverty is limited largely to the poor nations” (Singer, 171).

Next time a prospective donor asks why they should give to World Wide Village instead of an organization that works locally, I could go down a litany of what philosophers, pastors, and those in need have said. I could cite statistic after statistic to paint a dismal picture of the devastating poverty facing people within our own borders and across the ocean. I could tell stories of people I have interacted with in both places, and relay how my heart was shattered while in Haiti. But what do I actually think? Are we more morally responsible to use our economical aid locally or send it overseas? I side with Singer in believing that if we are going to be moral human beings and have the capacity to share resources that will mean the difference between luxury for me and survival for someone else, then I am morally obligated to do so both as a human being and as a Christian. Yet I think every individual needs to decide for themselves where their aid shall go, as each individual is called to work with a different set of people. Those who can work in a psychiatric hospital without a problem have a calling to work with a different set of people than a kindergarten teacher (if both of them are filling their calling). If “[t]he task of all believers is to exercise their calling” (Van Til, 122), and if my job is to stay out of the way of people reaching the fulfillment of their character and/or calling, and if I acknowledge that poor are everywhere and it is the moral obligation of the able to help the poor, then when someone asks where they should help, it is my moral obligation to tell them “find where your heart/calling is and funnel your aid in that direction…but do something”.

Extreme poverty is a matter of life and death wherever it is found, whether that be on Snelling Avenue in St. Paul, MN or at the cholera house operated by the Real Hope for Haiti Clinic in Cazale, Haiti. Deuteronomy 15:11 says “[t]here will always be poor people in the land” (NIV). People are starving, contracting preventable diseases, and dying everywhere. We are morally obligated to aid the poor everywhere in whatever way and however much we are able, not just in a different country because our dollar will stretch further. Yet it also must be acknowledged that some are called to work locally and some are called to work in foreign lands. Goodness knows there is enough to be done.

Bibliography

Aristotle. (2002). Nicomachaen Ethics. In S. M. Cahn, & P. Markie, Ethics: History, Theory and Contemporary Issues (pp. 116-135). New York, New York: Oxford University Press.

Blanchard, K. (2006). "If you do not do this you are not now a Christian": Martin Luther's Pastoral Teachings on Money. Word & World , 26 (3), 299-309.

Ferkiss, V. C. (1965). Foreign Aid: Moral and Political Aspects. New York, New York: The Council on Religion and International Affairs.

MacKinnon, B. (2009). Ethics: Theory & Contemporary Issues. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth.

Palmer, M. (1991). The Theory of Immanuel Kant. Toronto, Canada: University of Toronto Press.

Real Stories. (2011). Retrieved March 23, 2011, from Feeding America: http://feedingamerica.org/faces-of-hunger/real-stories.aspx

Singer, P. (1979). Practical Ethics. New York, New York: Cambridge University Press.

Snodgrass, K. (2010). Jesus and Money: No Place to Hide and No Easy Answers. Word & World , 30 (2), 135-143.

Van Til, K. A. (2007). Less Than Two Dollars Per Day: A Christian View of World Poverty. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.

Ward, B. (1966). The Decade of Development: A Study in Frustration? In Two Views on Aid to Developing Countries (pp. 7-29). Westminster, SWI: Institute of Economic Affairs.

World Wide Village, Inc. (2011, March 15). World Wide Village, Inc. Retrieved March 21, 2011, from www.worldwidevillage.org

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[1] Retrieved from www.worldwidevillage.org 21 Mar 2011.

[2] Name changed.

To love or not to love: It isn't a question.

I recently submitted this as a paper to an ethics class:

Both the Old and New Testaments reflect the sad fact that the poor will always be amongst members of a humanity not in complete rightness with the Creator. Deuteronomy 15:11 states “There will always be poor people in the land…”. John 12:8 depicts Jesus as saying to his disciples “You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.” Certainly we see the evidence of this truth today—one need only transverse a road in the downtown area of any major city in the world to see examples of the poorest of the poor, those whom society has apparently given up on. On the same street, however, one may also find a church. Given our temporal context, what does Matthew 25:31-46, a classic passage about ministering to the practical needs of the downtrodden, contribute to our understanding of responsibility to the homeless?

The first section of this passage paints a picture of God sitting on his throne, judging between people of “all the nations” (v.22) and separating the sheep from the goats. Those who are put on his right side, the sheep, are invited to accept the inheritance prepared for them, for they fed the hungry, gave water to the thirsty, clothed the naked, visited the prisoners, and tended the sick. They cared for the “least of these” (v.40) and each action is being understood as having been done to God as well. Those who saw the hungry, thirsty, naked, imprisoned, and infirmed and did nothing are cast as guilty of having ignored the LORD as if he himself were lying on the side of the road or in prison.

Many people justify their lack of action to end homelessness by saying things like “oh, the homeless could get a job if they really wanted to” or “they are responsible for the consequences of their addictions”. We conveniently forget that the homeless are fully human as well—people whom God sees and loves desperately—and many times life just kicks people in the teeth (for example, the thousands of displaced individuals in Haiti did not choose to have their homes leveled by a catastrophic earthquake). Is it ethical to explain away inaction in this manner? Note that Jesus does not ask how the sick became sick, or the hungry, naked, and thirsty lost the ability to provide for themselves. Nor does he say “visit the people in prison who are there for burglary, but leave the rapists alone”. Rather he says “the sick”, “prisoners”, etc. He does not seem to care how individuals took their place amongst the least of society, just that they are there and are in need of tending. Just because a lack of responsibility on their part may have contributed to where they sleep at night does not remove our responsibility in offering them service and care. (Also note that this passage does not command people to tend to the marginalized (this command can, however, be found elsewhere). Rather, it just provides an example of ‘here is what will happen if you do and here is what will happen if you don’t’.)

It is important to note the kind of care for “the least of these” being discussed in this passage. Jesus does not say “preach at them, but they get to worry about where food is going to come from” or “you should baptize them, but it is their responsibility to get to the doctor.” This passage depicts a Savior who is exquisitely concerned about the practical needs of the people. Preaching the Gospel and baptizing willing participants each have their place, are very good, and indeed can even be seen as commands in particular verses (ex: Mark 16:15-16), but one must attend to practical needs as well. After all, a hungry person is not able to focus on the Good News of the Gospel while their empty stomach is doing cartwheels, or if a fever clouds their thoughts. A prisoner does not care to hear about the love of a distant, not-always-tangible Creator when no one around them seems to care a whit. Abraham Maslow is well-known for his articulation of the human ‘hierarchy of needs’, namely that basic needs (e.g. food, water, shelter, safety) must be met before one can focus on so-called higher needs (e.g. self-actualization, abstract concepts of the world and God). Rare is the individual for whom the order is reversed. Practical needs must be met so the Gospel may be shared and heard in truth.

Notice that this passage also does not say care for the marginalized is reserved only for those who will accept the Gospel, as if we should hold food hostage until the person proclaims faith in the Lord and Savior. “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me” (v. 35-36, NIV). Do you see a conditional phrase in that text? No—the state of being hungry existed and it was tended, same with the states of being thirsty, naked, sick, and imprisoned. Those who are able to tend these needs are not given license to ignore certain people because they are not pretty, the right age, height, or race, not ideally oriented towards receiving the Gospel, etc. These needs were tended simply because they existed. A similar statement may be made about the following verses:

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me” (v. 41-42, NIV).

The aforementioned states of hunger, thirst, etc existed and damning guilt results from the fact that nothing was done. Voltaire once said “every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do.” Combining this thought with the passage from Mark would make it seem we are morally required to do that which we can towards those who, for whatever reason under the sun, are unable to tend themselves.

On the other hand, what if this is a passage meant to be taken figuratively? What if Jesus was addressing those who are hungry, thirsty, and naked in spirit, those supernaturally imprisoned by the Devil’s grip on humanity[1]? Reading this passage figuratively does not release the reader from moral obligation. It would still seem we are morally responsible to and for tending to spiritual hunger and imprisonment just as if we were tending the physical needs of a body. If someone is spiritually hungry, feed them with the Word and by the Spirit. Clothe them in the armor of God. Direct them towards the well that will never run dry, the Son who proclaims freedom for prisoners and slaves.

By tending the needs of the marginalized, the sheep interact directly with God as he stands in solidarity with “the least of these”. Yet another implication of this Scripture is that God is often found in unexpected ways amongst those whom we would rather ignore. Trying to find God in the church, or in liturgy and worship, or even in debate has its place, but by interacting directly with the poor, one interacts with the Almighty. God sees the marginalized, relates with them, and has even placed himself within their shoes. A deity became a pauper so that we might experience his love. We reflect love back to God by tending his beloved in whichever way need is presented. Oh boy, we have a lot of work to do!

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[1] Given other Scriptural references to being clothed in God’s armor, this reading does not seem entirely out of the question.

I'm in Haiti!

Okay peoples, I'm in Haiti--check out my travel blog: http://msnoratravels.blogspot.com/

Theological thinkings

So this is going to be rather long, but here is the text of a recent theological essay take-home exam I completed as a part of my seminary studies. Thoughts are appreciated...though keep in mind that I am by no means 100% sure on anything I typed: this is basically my current theological ramblings (I will include citations at a later date):

1: Relationship between Scriptures, revelation, contextual awareness, and authority.

Since the first century on, there have been arguments about where Biblical Scripture came from, its role in shaping Christian belief, and its authority within historical and cultural context. Some say every single word is God-breathed, the Bible can be taken absolutely literally on all counts, it functions as both history and science books, and parts are confusing because the Holy Spirit simply has not yet revealed their true meaning. I would argue otherwise.

Scripture, when not understood in a strict, Biblicist sense, is designed to be something that reveals God to one aspect of his Creation. While it is not necessary that every single dot or letter be the direct hand-over-hand direction of God, this does not negate God being directly involved in the overall scope of the creation of Scripture. Think about someone about whom a biography is being written in their lifetime—that person will not direct the author’s hand in every single word or phrase penned (if this were the case, it would turn into an autobiography and must be approached differently). Rather, the person will certainly want to make sure the essence of their life and who they are comes through on the page. Platcher states that “the stories capture through narrative a person’s identity” (pp. 92) and this is what happens with Scripture. It was unnecessary for God to fully inspire each dot and tittle put down about him so long as the final document fulfills its function as “a unique witness to the sovereign grace of God at work in the history of Israel and above all in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus” (Migliori, pp. 50). In a sense, allowing room for human creativity in the creation of Scripture fits with the image of a God who wants his creations to co-create along with him. He revealed Scripture and as much of himself as was necessary for humankind to create a document that witnesses to His message of liberation.

Scripture is meant to serve as a witness, a testimony that points to the glory of God and directs his creation towards the liberating message of Jesus Christ. It is not meant as a history or science book. Indeed, Migliori says the “Bible is a witness, and at its center it attests the sovereign, liberating grace of God in Christ…Scripture witnesses to God’s world-transforming activity” (pp. 52). All throughout the book we find descriptions of God shaping and reforming the world so that His beloved children might find freedom in Him. The children of Israel were brought up out of Egypt and into their Promised Land that they might be in a wedded relationship with YHWH. Each person is given the opportunity of rescue from their figurative “Egypt” through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, that we might find ultimate liberation from sin. Scripture, particularly the New Testament, is thus a symbol that stands in the middle between people and God and mediates exchange between a God who must be reminded of his promises and a creation that must be pointed towards ultimate liberation. We are not to take it literally as a science or history book—to do so not only defeats the purpose, but distracts readers from truly getting at the heart of the text. It is merely a way for us to indirectly access the logos, or complete idea, of a God who is so powerful that direct access would mean destruction. As an “authentic witness”, Scripture is that which “directs our attention to some other reality…The living Word of God is Jesus Christ and it is with him that we are brought into relationship by the witness of Scripture” (Migliori, 51). Migliori says it well:

“Beyond the dead letter of Biblicism, the uncritical assumptions of historicism, the narrowness of bourgeois privatism, and the detachments of aestheticism lies the real authority of Scripture in the life of the community of faith. Christians do not believe in the Bible; they believe in the living God attested by the Bible. Scripture is indispensable in bringing us into a new relationship with the living God through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, and thus into new relationship with others and with the entire creation” (pp. 50)

Yet just because the Bible cannot be read as a historical or scientific document does not mean it loses face in the light of cultural context. When examining interpretive hermeneutics, it is foolish to deny that one’s interpretation is outside that person’s cultural context. To do so is to deny the Spirit creativity. Of course women interpret Scripture differently than men, just as a poor orphan will see aspects of the text that escape a rich business man—the Spirit reveals Gospel and Law to individuals as is fitting to their circumstance. At the same time, a person’s circumstance will make them exquisitely sensitive to particular aspects of Scripture. For example, “the experience of suffering and poverty provides an opportunity for understanding the message of the Bible that frequently remains hidden to those who insulate themselves from the suffering of others and from their own suffering” (Migliori, pp. 62). We must realize that God did not make cooky-cutter children and the Spirit is not going to reveal the exact same thing to each person. “We must remain open to the freedom of the Spirit who sheds new light on Scripture. The Spirit of God moves in surprising ways” (Migliori, pp. 61).

Does this rob Scripture of authority? Certainly not! It was authoritative upon original inscription and continues as such today. It is the applicability of Scripture to our daily life and the enduring message of the cross (despite the brilliance of humanity, we still need the Savior), that garners Scripture continuing authority. The same is true for the writings of Confucius or Mohammed—they are granted authority within their respective traditions partly because people still need the messages contained within. When humanity no longer needs the message of hope that Scripture provides, when the truths of God ceases to play out in our daily lives, when we no longer need a Savior—then the Bible will no longer be needed and will lose authority. The problem is that too many people approach the document as one meant to be taken absolutely literally and have abused its authority. Our task, according to Migliori, “is to develop a liberative understanding of the authority of Scripture” (pp.44). When the text is read as it is meant to be, a witness to the living Creator who desires ultimate communion with each of its creations, then no—authority is not diminished in light of contemporary context or challenges.

The make-up of God

So what is God? A four-word question that can send even the most well-versed theologian searching for the perfect four-letter word—“God” seems awfully hard to pin down. Answering “I am” when Moses asked for his name, God seems to deny definition. God is outside of definition because each definition we try to pin on him/her/it/whatever necessarily shoves this supreme entity into a box that is limited by the language with which we are attempting to posit our ideas. God seems to refute every single box we puny humans try to shove him into, preferring instead to remain undefined as that allows him freedom for work that is beyond our comprehension. Indeed, ancient Jewish iconography refused to create images of God because to do so would force us to consider God within the limits of our own imaginings (Jones, pp. 70). Yet humans, beings that like structure, need something a little more concrete. As we ponder theologically, we are necessarily always doing so in a context shaped by language, culture, institutions (political, educational, social), and a history that conditions how we see and experience things around us. Therefore, how we conceive of God is necessarily shaped by how and where we live. So here is my conception of God as influenced by my gender, cultural context, and linguistic background:

· God as I understand him/her/it, hereafter referred to as “him” for the sake of convention, is above gender. It has been the tradition for thousands of years to refer to God as male, and yet the Old Testament (which, notably, also frequently refers to God as male) makes it clear that God transcends gender. How? Language referencing God takes on both masculine and feminine characteristics (God as the husband of Israel, God as the mother eagle who shelters chicks under her wings). Genesis 1:27 says “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (NIV). The mere fact that we reference God as “him” is a reflection of the patriarchal society humanity has lived within since Adam and Eve (Jones, pp. 68). Well, if God is above gender, why do we not say “it”? Human beings like categories. Have you ever noticed the discomfort someone often displays when they cannot figure out if another human is male or female? This division of entities based on gender pervades science (male and female animals), language (masculine vs. feminine nouns), and even how we reference inanimate objects that do not display any sort of gender categorization (cars are often “she”). It would be absurd to expect a society so obsessed with identifying the gender of something to not apply this to God. Matters were not helped that Jesus appeared as a man, constantly said things like “My Father in Heaven”, and then told people to say “our Father” when praying. Yet in initial creation, the image of God was both male and female together in communion. Moreover, “the model of God as Father, Lord, and King…justifies a system of domination that grounds and sustains social hierarchies (patriarchy, for one)” (Jones, pp. 49).

· God is that which nothing can be greater than. He is the “all in all”, the strength when we are weak, the rock of our salvation, orderer of chaos, the ultimate truth, life and love, etc. Recognizing that the preceding list of attributes is a list of symbols, here I must also point out that nothing innate exists about the words “God”, “Elohim”, “YHWH”, “Lord”, or any of the other words used to reference the Creator (a word which is in itself a symbol) that tells us anything about the ultimate nature of God. He is too powerful to access directly, so we use symbols and metaphorical language to approach that which we do not have the human capacity to describe within language. He is so holy, so pure, and so powerful that we may not even think to approach his essence without risking being destroyed or severely disfigured (e.g. Moses). So what is he? An ultimate good, pure, loving being that transcends human understanding. The preceding sentence may seem like a cop-out, but I am still not yet even sure that I understand what God is other than redemptive, loving, and all-powerful.

· God cannot be God without his creation. It is awfully hard for the God of the universe to be God of anything if nothing exists. We cannot talk about God as a rock of salvation if there is nothing to save. No ultimate truth exists if there is no truth to be proven. There is no holy of holies if there is no “of holies”. God cannot use the title “Lord” if there is nothing to lord over. Therefore, God is “creative” and complete in his “creation”. Without Creation, God simply is. With Creation, God can be the force of light, joy, hope, and peace as understood within much of Scripture. God is just as dependent on Creation for full expression of his “God-hood” as we are dependent on him for existence.

To believe in the God witnessed to by Scriptures and the Christian tradition is to fully come into being. If humans are created to be in communion with the Creator, then how can we be fully human if we deny that communion, deny the existence of the Creator, and do not allow ourselves to acknowledge the divine role we have in co-creating existence? To believe in God is to allow God to be fully God in our lives. It is to allow ourselves to express the nature in which we were created and to allow the Creator to fully express his nature through us. How exciting!

Point of creation, theological engagement with science, and theodicy

People have tried to figure out why they were created for almost as long as they have existed. I would posit that people were made to be in ultimate union with God and sin drove the dividing wedge between that ultimate purpose and reality post-Fall. Creation itself is the “play of God…a kind of free artistic expression whose origin must be sought ultimately in God’s good pleasure” (Migliori, pp. 112). It provides an avenue of interacting with the glory of God through expression of his true self-hood by offering a “mask” to directly experience God without risking annihilation. It is a place for God to fully express himself and meet his precious people in his unending creativity and glory in a very real, tangible way that will not destroy his precious ones. The Bible says that nature itself will cry out the glory of God if people remain silent. It cannot help but do so. At the same time, as discussed above, God cannot be God without creation. Through bringing order to cosmic chaos, God provided an avenue of expression for his glory and love. Are we the first creations? I do not know. There is nothing in the Bible that denies the possibility that worlds and universes existed before or concurrently with that of which we are currently aware. Yet talk of alternate universes brings up the question of science and theology.

No matter how much people within either camp would like to do so, to divorce science from theology is the mark of absolute absurdity and, in my humble opinion, stupidity. I happen to agree with Migliori that the “language of science and language of faith must be recognized in their distinctiveness; one should not be collapsed into the other. And the claim that only one of these languages is the voice of truth and alone provides access to reality is simply unfounded and arrogant” (pp. 114). Science should not try to upend theology, and vice versa. At the same time, to theologically ignore science would be the end of witnessing to the reason-minded—the secular world does not ignore the laws of evolution and physics, biological processes, or molecular mechanics and neither should theologians. Good theologians will attempt to provide a way to explain how God works through these processes, realizing that science might, just might, provide a way to explain how God works his will in the world. Science is a good tool for theologically interacting with the concerns of those who are attempting to explain “how” and “why” things happen the way they do. To deny science is to limit God, which is unacceptable.

Many find the concurrent existence of evil and an ultimately good God unacceptable. Yet when one considers that “God abides in loving communion that affirms difference and makes room for the other” (Migliori, pp 109) and how God “recognizes and respects the free activity of creatures and does not play the part of a tyrant” (Migliori, pp. 126), the existence of evil as an idea is not so troubling. The translation from idea to reality is when evil becomes troubling. Humankind is meant for ultimate communion with God, yet God is not one to force that communion on his free-willed creatures. To do so would deny free will. In order to have free will and the ability to choose a life in communion with God, however, there must be an opposite of ultimate good. We must have something to choose between—absolute human freedom is necessary in order to exercise true communion with the Almighty. Enter evil, stage left. As for where evil came from—does it matter? It exists. We cannot get rid of it. Indeed, “God has created a world of both birth and death, both rationality and contingency, both order and freedom, both risk and vulnerability. In such a world, challenge, struggle, and some forms of suffering belong to the very structure of life” (Migliori, pp. 119). As argued in another work, it would seem that Biblically speaking Christianity should be far less interested in where evil came from and more interested in what to do with its presentation in the world. Yet it would seem that evil originates in humankind’s abuse of its freewill (Migliori, pp. 122). Since an opposite exists, people have the option to and have chosen it. We work atrocities on one another that can never have been intended by God—just as He is creative so too are his creations.

I would argue evil in all of its forms is simply another mask for the glory of God, but not in the same sense as Creation--here I mean a mask as appropriation (God revealed through his opposite). Does God work evil for the sole purpose of revealing his glory? No. God does not work evil, but simply acknowledges evil that already exists and uses its outcomes to further his purpose of pointing people towards the divine; in being present as a co-sufferer, God displays his love for humanity. “Tyranny, injustice, social breakdown, war, and other evil events are not caused by God…Nevertheless God permits these events to occur and uses them to accomplish the divine purpose. God exercises sovereignty over evil by bringing good out of what by itself is only negative and destructive” (Migliori, pp. 122). Try saying this to someone in the middle of crisis, however, and the deliverer of this message is risking getting slapped.

There are no easy answers to any of these questions. The best any of us can do is say “I think…because XYZ makes the most sense”—but we will never really know the answer until we are standing (or hovering or whatever) before the Most High and he chuckles and says “Oh my child.”