Monday, September 28, 2009

Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Part 3

Somehow, remarkably, we all have the image of God but don’t.

Maybe there is some sort of ratio for how much of God’s image remains within us. Perhaps that “image” is only a resemblance as in a human family’s lineage, like the way I resemble my father; I retain features and characteristics while possessing my own unique drives and sociological imperatives

Interestingly, on page 71, Wittmer declares that the planet we currently reside upon will be “restored to its original goodness.” Does that mean that in the new Jerusalem there will be a reformation of earth to its pre-flood state, or will there be a complete transformation to a state that can withstand the presence of God himself that is altogether different from anything we have ever known?

Now then, we are created in God’s image; in the image of God are we created. The deep ramifications of this statement may never truly be understood. I am comfortable at this stage in my faith journey with the idea that the same God who sovereignly governs the heavens also chose to use as a proxy something that could simultaneously govern this planet and innately identify with it. Analogously (and imperfectly) it would serve only a utilitarian function (at best) to have a ruler govern a city but care nothing for the needs of the people. Likewise, said city would engage in hedonistic utilitarianism before dissolving into anarchistic nihilism if not for the intervention of responsible leadership (i.e., an outside source) capable of identifying with the people on a servant-level, loving them, reflecting greater ethical values that support the common good, and possessing the dominion (presence of nonviolent force; charisma) necessary to fulfil its political aims. To bring this back to our discussion, unfortunately, our present humanness struggles with all its might against the things that are best for it. We seem to naturally gravitate towards the things we should not do rather than do the things we are told to do (for our own good) but do not understand. As such, the “image of God” becomes all the more important to us as we endeavour to evolve as a species into a greater idyllic state, which for the Christian is one that, in addition to many other considerations, allows for an unbroken relationship with God on all levels. Since we cannot reflect an “ultimate goodness” in soma and are therefore incapable of fulfilling our vocation (to govern) on our own, it is necessary that we not only derive our values from a source outside of ourselves, but endeavour to reflect said source. We need God to give us order so that order may exist; we need God to govern our lives so that we may govern this planet. Our species, created though it may be, can best reflect the image of God by interacting with this present reality in the way that God originally intended.

Wittmer goes out of his way to remind us of our humble beginnings. We are “mud”. The connection he draws between humans and planet Earth is blatant; “...we are earthlings. We were made to live here. This world is our home.” In the greater context, he seems to be setting up a contrast between the biblical account of humanity’s creation and the Gnostic views of the secularized Evangelical Movement. Perhaps he intends to convey the intrinsic value and importance of maintaining biblical ethics regarding issues of global stewardship. We were never meant to “fly away”. Rather, we are meant to deal with real issues right before us in an effort to make this present generation of human beings look more like the image of God within them, and in so doing, transform this present world into something more resembling the Kingdom of Heaven. Though I am likely engaging in isogesis.

Practically, Wittmer states that our obligation one to another as image bearers of the living God is to “do everything in our power to protect the value and dignity of human life, from the cradle to the grave.” Such a worldview presents great exclusivity in a variety of fields including medicine and politics. Should we pursue stem cell research? Should we permit adult euthanasia as a form of elderly “death with dignity”? Should we permit capital punishment for multiple-offense murderers? Our ethical obligations to protecting the “value and dignity of human life” should cause us to greatly consider any actions before we take them.

Lastly, Wittmer lays out a three-point summary of who we are, why we are here and what we are intended to do: "First. . .God created us in his image so that we might enjoy personal fellowship with him. . .Second. . .so that we might enjoy fellowship with others. . .Third. . .so that we might enjoy right relationship with the rest of creation." And there it is. Only one question left: Where do we go from here?

Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Part 2

God is God and I am not. . .

Having declared that God necessarily exists, remains entirely perfect, is absolutely transcendent, created all things and is predisposed to loving said created things, Wittmer draws our attention to creation itself proclaiming in no uncertain terms that everything God created was and remains good. The last paragraph on page sixty-five is Wittmer’s thesis, complete with objective correlative. However, this is in diametric opposition to everything I have been taught about the “afterlife” and what I am living on earth for. Is earth a “training ground” for our heavenly “assignment”? What use is there in having “pearly gates” if they exist in front of an ethereal Disneyland? Why even have a heavenly vacation spot if the goal is to redeem our home? What is God waiting for?

So if creation is good, and material things are not intrinsically evil, then why does God curse the earth? What possible good is there in something cursed by God in the first-person?

Wittmer begins and ends the chapter with references to some of the more profane attempts at Christian marketing -- profane, not because the purveyors are capitalists, but because they are contributing to the gnostic-izing of the Western Church. In response to this, Wittmer writes on page sixty-seven, and a revelation occurs to me: “Our first responsibility is to find pleasure in our Father’s world.” And said pleasure is derived from our indwelling and groundedness within the material context of the created world, not apart from it. I am glad that someone with credentials in the field of Christian thought believes exactly as I do on the matter. My goal is not to deny myself all that is enjoyable on this planet for the sake of “sharing in Christ’s sufferings” but rather to look more like the picture painted in Genesis 3:8 where humans enjoy unbroken fellowship with God on all perceptible levels “in the cool of the day” when all other work is completed. I can simply marvel at the beauty of the things that God has given to humanity and remain content in the knowledge that it is all “very good” indeed.

Wittmer’s distinction between ethical and ontological (material) meanings of Scripture are refreshing. He calls to attention that our sins are at the root of our problem, and it is our sin that we should retreat from, not the material world. This gives Scripture consistency and prevents the reader from assuming that the Bible is contradictory. I am slowly evolving away from bibliolatry. . .

Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Part 1

There goes the evangelical movement. . .

I have been assigned a reading for Religion 201: Creation and the New Creation. It remains a fascinating class, though frightfully early in the morning. And in an effort to keep a fresh induction of theological blood pumping on this blog, I've decided to incorporate my thoughts concerning the book Heaven is a Place on Earth by Michael E Wittmer.

Wittmer begins this chapter with the assumption that God is the very image of perfection and is therefore “wholly other than” all else in existence. To do this, Wittmer employs Anslem’s theorem, which itself is a rational catch-twenty-two that is easily dismissed by rudimentary logic. To say that humans are capable of imagining a perfect “form” of anything is absurd (i.e., after the introduction of sin) and is Platonic in origin. If God truly is wholly other than me, and if the biblical account of the fall prerequisites that all humanity at present to be “fractured” or “lesser than”, then I shall be wholly incapable of conceiving even a shred of his perfect state. Even if I should I somehow become capable of imagining a perfect form of anything, then that thing I have imagined is no more real than anything else I can imagine. What in Scripture supports an absolutely perfect Creator? Anslem’s argument looks like this: I can imagine something perfect; The most perfect thing I can imagine is God; God therefore necessarily exists. If that were truly the case, then the following atheistic argument can be made: I can imagine something perfect; The most perfect thing I can imagine is cold fusion; Cold fusion therefore necessarily exists. Wittmer concedes the futility of the argument as a starting point for discussion, believing the most valuable attribute of Anslem’s theorem is how it opens our eyes to the vastness of God and the sorts of words we must use to revere God with. However, I am logically predisposed to gravitate towards the Judeo-Christian source of such claims about God. But denying the whole of Scripture, can reason or philosophy ever explain the existence (or lack thereof) of God? Or God’s divine attributes? If all I ever had of the Bible was the first three chapters of the book of Genesis, to what view of God would I rationally concede? It is clearly a matter of faith and nothing more. Such a bizarre way to begin a chapter.

Wittmer’s take on metaphysical dualism and his criticism of Western Christianity seem to be above reproach. His distinction is perfect: A chasm exists between us and God. Logically, in order to recover the image of God we have lost, we must make no quarter for sin. However, we all retain a proclivity toward all manner of sin as a result of the “fall”. Therefore, the need for a Savior was and remains necessary. The line we draw at this point hinges on how gnostic our beliefs have become. Do we surrender to the majesty of a being that is wholly other than us? Or do we utilize our own sin-management and behavioural modification systems in order to escape the tainted bonds of this disgustingly evil earth?

Taking into consideration God’s necessarily transcendent nature, I wonder what the point of all this theology must be? If we will never fully know nor understand God (in this life or the next, as we are still created things) then why bother now? What is our ultimate purpose on earth in 2009? And what of open theism? How transcendent is God?

Wittmer takes a decidedly gracious (and correct) approach to the nature of this chapter. To concede that no one will ever know all of the answers to all of the questions (short of transcendence) is not only philosophically consistent with modern and ancient rationale, but remains supported by Scripture (as Paul attests, that our dependence upon and justification to a necessarily existent God is by faith alone). I am left with one thought: A necessarily existent God, to whatever degree of perfection, must be biased towards caring for the beings said God created. The notion that it is God’s will that I continue (or cease) to be is humbling to say the least. The very fact of my existence proves to me that God exists and God is good.

I am very curious to see where this reading will take me on my journey to a achieving a well rounded theological foundation.