Bound to Burn?

I like the earth--it's where all my stuff is. I'd like to keep it lookin' good for my children and grandchildren. So I recycle. I also try not to waste energy or throw litter out my car window. I even like that plasticware is now designed with a certain amount of negative space to reduce the amount of material required per utensil. What I don't like is much of the current fad of "saving the earth." Ever since it started, I get the distinct feeling that I'm being had, that there's something someone isn't telling me about here. You know, like when Hollywood's elite tell me not to air condition my house or to take the bus to work instead of drive, or else life on earth will cease to exist, even though they have mansions to cool and private jets to fly.

One particular area in which things just don't feel right to me is the idea of a "carbon footprint." We're all supposed to reduce our carbon footprint, but I have to ask, who is "we?" This is precisely the point in Peter W. Huber's article that recently appeared in City Journal, entitled "Bound to Burn." Huber argues that for us rich Westerners to lower our carbon usage and output is just fine and dandy--until one looks at things globally (isn't that what we are supposed to be doing anyway?). His main point?

We rich people can’t stop the world’s 5 billion poor people from burning the
couple of trillion tons of cheap carbon that they have within easy reach. We
can’t even make any durable dent in global emissions—because emissions from the
developing world are growing too fast, because the other 80 percent of humanity
desperately needs cheap energy, and because we and they are now part of the same
global economy.

He goes on to say that even though we rich-types out there burn more carbon per capita, there are a lot more "capitas" in the world's poorest countries. Thus, "the 5 billion poor...emit 20 percent more greenhouse gas than we do." To make matters worse, as the richer countries reduce their demand for carbon-based fuel, the price for said fuel goes down as well. This, of course, means that for countries like China, who burn massive amounts of coal, they can burn it even more cheaply than they already were. These countries are also increasing their rate of fuel usage at a much faster rate than can be offset by our carbon-reduction efforts.

Huber makes many other thought-provoking points in his article--too many to mention here--but in the end, he takes a realistic look at the situation and realizes that on a global scale, humanity is not going to stop using carbon-based fuels anytime soon, regardless of the amount of reductions in Western countries. Therefore, he reckons, we ought to focus our efforts on getting that carbon out of the atmosphere once it has been released. And what is the best way to do that? Things no one disagrees with. Planting trees, which beautifies our cities and keeps them cooler to boot. Using land wisely and improving agricultural tactics, which can result in greater prosperity. Ideas that benefit both humans qua humans and nature, instead of ideas that villify human use of resources and deify Mother Nature.

So why are these ideas not at the forefront of the environmentalist movement, but riding the bus to work is? I think the leaders of the movement don't really care about the environment, at least not as much as they care about having power. Think about it: How much power do you exert over people when they plant a tree? Not much. How much power do you exert over people when you fundamentally alter the manner in which they travel? Quite a bit more. I think this also explains a lot about the misinformation we receive. For example, in his famous documentary, Al Gore showed an ice berg losing massive chunks of ice into the ocean. He neglected to mention it was computer-generated. To take another example, we are told we need to "save the earth." Since when did it need saving to begin with? Is it misguided hubris to suppose that we can destroy a planet billions of years old by driving to work? Or is it intentional misinformation: If the earth is to be saved, then there must be a savior--a savior with enough political power to make the necessary changes.

This is why I sit uneasy with the environmentalist movement sweeping through our nation. It has nothing to do with treating the earth well. It has everything to do with feeling underinformed, misinformed, and being extremely wary of anyone in pursuit of political power.

Who Do You Love?

Money and righteousness seem to be strange bedfellows. I've been thinking about both lately, perhaps because of a sermon I recently heard/delivered, perhaps because of the economy, perhaps for other reasons not to be named here. In any case, in Christendom money and righteousness have long been pitted against one another or seen as the best of friends, depending on the circles in which one is a member. The same was true in Paul's day, with ascetics living in the desert on the one hand and members of the social elite in the makeup of the early churches on the other. There were even televangelists (well, they would have been if there were television back then) promising God would bless His followers with good careers, nice homes and lots of money; after all, God wants you to be happy! It is interesting and eerily parallel to the present that these proto-televangelists (Paul calls them false teachers) are the subject of discourse of 1 Timothy.

In a pattern common to the letter, in 1 Timothy 6 Paul addresses a specific problem he sees with these false teachers, and then suggests a remedy. He constructs this last section of the letter as a chiasm, which when displayed greatly helps the modern reader understand the flow of the passage:

a. A description of false teachers (vv. 3-5)
b. A proper view of money for the believer (vv. 6-8)
c. The love of money (vv. 9-10)
c'. The love of God (vv. 11-16)
b'. A proper view of money for the rich believer (vv. 17-19)
a'. A description of teachers of the Truth (vv. 20-21)

Without getting into too much detail, the problem is that these false teachers are proclaiming that "godliness is a means to financial gain," which is leading to internal strife within the community of believers (or at least among the sub-category of false teachers and their followers) (vv. 4-5). Paul attempts to restore order and unity by reminding the church that while money is temporal, life is eternal. Thus, as long as a person has his or her needs met financially, that should suffice (vv. 6-8). He then commands the rich Christians to be generous. Generosity is their privilege and duty, and it comes with eternal rewards (vv. 17-19). Paul finally finishes off the chiasm with words of instruction for Timothy, who is to "guard what has been entrusted to [his] care" (v. 20).

While there is much more that could be said about the previous verses, I would like to focus on the center of the chiasm--Paul's main point. What I believe he is doing is taking Jesus' words in the Sermon on the Mount, "You cannot serve both God and Money" (Matt. 6:24), and applying them to the Ephesian context. Paul draws a contrast between the false teachers' love of money and the true Christ-followers' love of God. He argues, "The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil...but you, man of God...pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness" (vv. 10-11, italics added).

This is where it gets weird. This is where things don't make sense. Here's what does make sense--Jesus tells a rich young ruler to give everything he has to the poor, because it's more likely that a camel will pass through the eye of a needle than that a rich person will get into heaven. The opposite of the love of money should be giving it all away and living the ascetic lifestyle. But that's not what Paul says in 1 Timothy 6. Paul says that the opposite of trying to get rich is to get righteousness. The opposite of the love of money is...just love. You might still get rich. You might instead become poor. Your financial status might not change at all. You must be content with what you have.

What is one to do with such an idea? A millionaire becomes a Christian, starts giving away hundreds of thousands of dollars, and still lives in a mansion. A homeless woman finds salvation in Christ, and lives out the rest of her days in a refrigerator box. A middle-class man tries to make ends meet and provide for his family, and yet his focus is to be on matters of faith? But I've got bills to pay and mouths to feed! he screams to himself. Paul's words again allude to the Sermon on the Mount: "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear...But seek first [God's] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." (Matt. 6:25, 33). But it's not fair; it doesn't make sense; it's not the American way!

But then again, it does make sense. Godliness reminds us that ultimately we are not in charge of our finances (as one of my coworkers puts it, "We're all temporary employees"). Faith teaches us that God's grace is not constrained to what is calculable. Pursuing righteousness does lead to divine provision for our physical needs, although endurance may teach us we have misjudged what our needs truly are.

Money versus righteousness. The pursuit of financial gain versus the pursuit of God. Envy and strife versus contentment in all situations. Strange bedfellows, indeed.

100th Post!

Well, here it is.  My 100th post on Tiger's Got My Back.  What does one blog about at such a milestone?  I suppose I could reminisce about all of the great posts I've had, but that's a little too self-congratulatory for my liking.  So instead, I will humbly speak of my last semester at Denver Seminary.

I have learned a two things this semester.  First, I have learned how little I truly know about theology and the Bible.  Sure, I've been studying it for ten years, but my own lack of knowledge often frustrates me.  This was made even more apparent to me as I went through the orals process.  Codifying my theological beliefs into paper format was a definite wake-up call that, although I knew where I stood on many issues at a high level, showed me I need to work on nailing down the details.  One such area is Bible references.  I have a hard time remembering where a particular passage or verse is located.  I suppose the only true solution for this is the hard work of memorization.  Ugh.  I also learned that my knowledge of the history and terminology of various theological issues is a bit weak.  I really had to read up on some various terms, people, church councils, etc, that at this point in my academic career, I probably should have known.  I think a lot of this is because 1) over the course of such prolonged study, one is bound to forget quite a bit of material, and 2) my personal reading is too narrowly focused on books and subjects I enjoy, rather than those I need to read to grow.  I will be changing my reading habits accordingly come May.

I have also learned that I am at the point where I need to dig a little deeper into topics than seminary requirements dictate.  I have noticed with these last few papers that it has become increasingly hard to limit their content to the page limits assigned to them.  One might write an entire book on 2 Thess 2:1-12, whereas I have but 14 pages at my disposal.  Now, given my current work and family situations, I'm not complaining, but I just feel that I am barely scratching the surface anymore.  Perhaps there will be more advanced writing in my future...

Summing up, these past few months have been a good end to seminary.  I have a better idea now of where I am at theologically and academically, and I can see now that my MDiv is just the foundation.  I need to push myself to the next level.  I need to get (more) serious about using the gifts God has given me.  (I've all but forgotten Hebrew--how can I live with myself?)  I need to read books that will challenge me and enable me to be more well-rounded, in addition to the ones I simply enjoy.  (Just to prove how much of a nerd I really am, I'm trying to develop a reading matrix for this purpose.  If anyone has any good ideas, please let me know.)

In effect, the bar remains for me where it has always been set: I want to be the best, not for comparison's sake, but for my own.  I think this semester has reminded me of that.  Perhaps one day I will get there...

Soteri-what?

The good news is I passed my oral exam.  My panel of professors also commented several times on how well-written my paper was.  The bad news is, I have to redo the section on soteriology.  

Everyone who wants to graduate with an MDiv from the seminary must write a somewhat lengthy paper on his or her theological beliefs, ranging the spectrum from describing God's revelation to humankind to interpreting God's Revelation specifically to John.  Overall, many of the topics are relatively easy to understand, and the "orthodox" positions are obviously the correct ones.  The hardest topic for me to wrap my mind around is soteriology (theology of salvation).  The old Calvinism/Arminianism debate rears its ugly head once more.  

I grew up in the Baptist church (first American, then Southern, then General), but I now attend and am on staff at a Wesleyan church.  99% of the doctrine is the same between these denominations, but of course one of the main differences is in this area of soteriology.  My own view has been shaped in part by my denominational journey.  Growing up, I was taught that five-point Calvinism (TULIP) was the way to go.  As I grew in my knowledge of the scriptures, I concluded that this framework was not the best interpretation of key texts.  I didn't want to go clear to the opposite end of the spectrum and embrace a full-fledged Arminianism for the same reasons.  In fact, as I read the Bible (esp. the New Testament), I see that both sides have some things right and some things wrong.  I attempted to create some type of mediating position in my paper, but the type I managed to create was...less than entirely coherent and a bit contradictory, shall we say?  (Hey, it was a first try.)

In the next few weeks, I will be doing some more research on this and try to come up with a better mediating view (if I know one thing, I know that I fall in the middle somewhere).  I'll do the best I can to explain the "mechanics" if you will of the salvation process (ordo salutis, for you Latin geeks) in a satisfactory manner.  I can't help but feel, though, that this attempt to systematize God's salvific work in humankind, corporately and individually, is in effect putting God into a box.  I am not sure that God works in the same way to bring people to Himself in all cases.  I'm not sure he needs a specific process to do this, either.  In fact, if I could use one phrase to describe my views on all of this, it would be, "I'm not sure."  That doesn't mean that I may not become "sure" in the future, or that I will just write off the whole of soteriology to the category of mystery and be on my way.  Nor do I deny that one's position in this area can greatly influence one's ideas on evangelism.  It's just one area about which I have no good answers.

Here is what I do know: Followers of Christ are commanded and expected to spread the gospel.  That much alone should keep me plenty busy until I can figure out the rest of it.

Experiencing Doctrine

"Experience must always be tested by doctrine, not doctrine by experience." I read these words in a journal article I was reviewing during sermon preparation. It got me thinking about my own experience. There have been times when what I experienced did not jive with what the Bible teaches. For example, the Bible insists in multiple places spanning both Testaments that God "will never leave or forsake" his people. There was a time in 2006 when all my senses and all of the circumstances of my life were shouting out to me, "God has left you; He has forsaken you!" Looking back, I see that even though my experience told me God had left me high and dry, in reality He had not. It was a test, a peirasmos in the full sense of the word (for all you Greek scholars out there), and it was what I needed to get serious about this whole Christianity thing. What I thought was God's utter lack of care for me was in actuality the most caring thing God could have done for me. I don't know how to put this other than...my experience was wrong, but doctrine was right.

This month's Toastmasters magazine quips, "We are all bad judges of ourselves." I would agree and go a step further: We are all bad judges of our immediate experience. I look back on many events in my life that I didn't think were beneficial at the time, but in 20/20 hindsight I can now see how they were indeed a part of God's plan for me. I wouldn't have all the wonderful things I have now--Jessica, Brodie, and my faith--without them. My doctrine allowed me to understand my experiences in the proper context. But had I let my experience define my doctrine, where would I be now?

We live in a very experiential age. I don't mean to say that experience is null and void, because obviously that is just plain silly. And I don't mean to say that one should unquestioningly assert biblical precepts, experience or no. But I do mean to say that we should interpret our experiences in light of revealed Truth (for that is what the biblical metanarrative is) and not vice versa. In our postmodern era, this is a counter-cultural call. It isn't popular. It isn't what itching ears want to hear. But it is the truth.

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, a though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior. - Habakkuk 3:17-18

The Goal, or How Much Further Have I to Go!

...It is not just those who plan to enter the academy professionally who need to have training in philosophy. Christian philosophy is also an integral part of training for Christian ministry. A model for us here is a man like John Wesley, who was at once a Spirit-filled revivalist and an Oxford-educated scholar. In 1756 Wesley delivered "An Address to the Clergy..." In discussing what sort of abilities a minister ought to have, Wesley distinguished between natural gifts and acquired abilities. And it is extremely instructive to look at the abilities that Wesley thought a minister ought to acquire. One of them is a basic grasp of philosophy. He challenged his audience to ask themselves,

Am I a tolerable master of the sciences? Have I gone through the very gate of them, logic? If not, I am not likely to go much farther when I stumble at the threshold...Rather, have not my stupid indolence and laziness made me very ready to believe, what the little wits and pretty gentlemen affirm, "that logic is good for nothing?" It is good for this at least,...to make people talk less; by showing them both is, and what is not, to the point; and how extremely hard it is to prove any thing. Do I understand metaphysics; if not the depths of the Schoolmen, the subtleties of Scotus or Aquinas, yet the first rudiments, the general principles, of that useful science? Have I conquered so much of it, as to clear my apprehension and range my ideas under the proper heads; so much as enables me to read with ease and pleasure, as well as profit, Dr. Henry Moore's Works, Malbranche's "Search for Truth," and Dr. Clarke's "Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God?"

Wesley's vision of a pastor is remarkable: a gentleman, skilled in the Scriptures and conversant with history, philosophy and the science of his day. How do the pastors graduating from our seminaries compare to this model?

Taken from Moreland and Craig, Philosophical Foundations For a Christian Worldview, p. 4

The Marx Brothers

A few recent PBS documentaries reminded me of the greatness of a certain comedy act of the 1920s-1940s. Of course, I speak of the Marx Brothers. They had witty jokes, bad puns and impeccable timing that has not been seen since. I would love to see these films re-released in theaters. For that matter, I would love to see a present-day film in the style of the Marx Brothers. (Steve Martin would obviously fill Groucho's role.) This is not to say that today's comedies aren't good, but what the Marx Brothers had was out of this world.

Please enjoy a few clips, on the house. Or inside of it, it's warmer there.