Just War & Jesus

So, it’s beginning to feel like the 15th century.  Emperors beefing with popes over some deep theology that has immediate real world consequences.  Now in 700 words, I’m not going to really solve anything. Nor when Emperors and Popes are yelling at each other does a parish pastor have much standing.  But I do think it is worth trying to think through something in writing.  There is a long Christian history of teaching that comes under the title “Just War” which goes back to Augustine. There is also just as long a history of magistrates ignoring it.

First, let’s look at the most compact form of that teaching possible.  It is from paragraph 2309 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Like Luther’s small catechism, and like all classical catechisms, is structured around: The Creed, The Sacraments, The Law, and Prayer. Paragraph 2309 on Just War is from the section on the law, subsection on the Fifth Commandment (“Thou Shall Not Kill”), further subsection on Jesus’ teaching “you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” As a Lutheran, setting this in the section on the law, would tell us: 1) This is how God intends things to be (Civil Use), 2) It shows us where we sin (Religious Use), and 3) It sets for the Christian Life a standard for sanctification. Let me quote this paragraph in full.

2309 The strict conditions for legitimate defense by military force require rigorous consideration. the gravity of such a decision makes it subject to rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy. At one and the same time: – the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting, grave, and certain; – all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective; – there must be serious prospects of success; – the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. the power of modem means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.

These are the traditional elements enumerated in what is called the “just war” doctrine. The evaluation of these conditions for moral legitimacy belongs to the prudential judgment of those who have responsibility for the common good.

Now let’s summarize. 1) There is no such thing as a just war of aggression. 2) Even if you are aggressed against, there must be a serious cause (“lasting, grave and certain”). 3) It must be a last resort (“all other means…impractical or ineffective”). 4) Probability of success. 5) What is typically called proportionality. (“not produce evils and disorders greater than the evil to be eliminated”).

This is a Mark Brown conclusion, yours may certainly and probably does differ, but using that as a grading scale, probably WW2 and the First Gulf War are the only ones that pass the test.  It is the line on proportionality that is probably most easily crossed.  For example, saying that we will destroy an entire civilization probably crosses that line. But that moves into what I think is something truly new in Just War theory, the reality of nuclear weapons. Since WW2 increasing number of states have had the ability to destroy all life on the planet, or if not all life to make the Roman’s “salting the earth” look like child’s play.  In the current conflict, if you get past the aggression line with the reasoning that Iran has been attacking “The Great Satan” and “The Little Satan” by proxies and other means for decades, you still hit the 2nd line.  Has anything Iran done to us crossed the “lasting, grave and certain” line?  The threat of a state getting a nuclear weapon definitely crosses that line.

And that might be where the last sentence is the wisest.  “The evaluation of these conditions…belongs to the prudential judgement of those who have responsibility for the common good.”  One gets the feeling that the Pope doesn’t trust the prudential judgement of the current President, or his ability to see the common good.  The current President returns the distrust in rejecting the Pope’s reasonability in seeing the common good. A common conservative critique of progressive answers, fine intentions but guaranteed to hurt everyone.

Now as you can see from that entire summary discussion, the biblical text beyond the 5th commandment hasn’t entered into it at all. Just War doctrine is a philosophical argument.  And it is largely persuasive.  I wish this is how the nations of the earth ruled themselves.  But the Bible itself is grittier. Jesus himself seems more realist.

“But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. (Matt. 20:25 ESV)” It is just a statement of fact.  The strong do what they will, the weak suffer what they must. That is how this fallen world often works.  And in fact, if you read Romans 13 or 1 Peter 2:13ff, the apostles tend to think that this is probably for the good of the world.  They say to obey the rulers.  If the rulers are terrible and you can’t follow them for the sake of Christ, and they strike you, it is not a call to rebellion, but to rejoice in your sufferings for the sake of Christ.  Those rulers are present for God’s reasons. Even if we don’t know them.

Jesus then continues, “It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matt. 20:26-28 ESV)”  This old world and the church just operate by different rules.  States are not judged by individual morality.  You, me, everyone who desires to follow Christ, must pick up this cross. We are strangers in this world or as Peter would call us “elect exiles.”

You can see why Anabaptists usually don’t vote and never hold office.  They view any such authority as incompatible with the Christian life. The standard reply of the church was “no, the wheat and weeds together.”  Often referencing John the Baptist’s advice to the solider, “Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” (Lk. 3:14 ESV)” If there was someone who was going to say “separate yourselves” you’d imagine the Baptist would be it.  But he does not.  His advice is don’t abuse the office but carry out your duties.

The Bible’s ultimate answer is that we await the return of the King. There is one who will rule justly. Right now he sits at the right hand of the Father. And one day shall return in power and great glory. Until then, “the kingdom suffers violence, and the violent bear it away (Matthew 11:12).”

A Concrete Faith

The letter of First Peter doesn’t get the respect or attention is should. It gets chosen to start on Easter 2 because it synchs up with Jesus’ words after the Thomas episode.  “Though you have not seen him, you love him (1 Peter 1:8)” aligns nicely with “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed (John 20:29).” But it is such a great example of the concrete nature of the gospel.  We live in the era of the “word salad.”  I muse sometimes that we have moved from a print age that produced high rhetoric like the Lincoln-Douglas debates to common rhetoric like the letters Civil War soldiers sent home.  Sure, there might be a bit of survival fallacy, the letters that serviced were bound to be moving, but the fact that they were written by 8th grade educated privates from the middle of nowhere and they are more meaningful than anything produced by professional wordsmiths in the past 50 years says something. That gave way to the bonhomie of radio addresses. Which themselves gave way to television. And as we adapted to television the “sound bite age” came upon us.  The most complicated arguments got reduced to 10 sec clips.  The Word Salad, in the sports world often called corporate banalities, summed up by Seinfeld as “Yadda, yadda, yadda” was created to avoid the sound bite. It’s a style of speaking to be seen on TV talking but saying absolutely nothing. More air than an angel food cake or a good meringue.  Compare that to the concrete of Peter.

Why has God acted?  “According to his great mercy.” As God repeated said about himself he is “merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Who God is has lead him to act.

What is the act of God that comes from this mercy? “He has caused us to be born again to a living hope.” We were dead in our sins and God’s mercy has caused us to be born again. We are born again not by re-entering our mother’s womb as Nicodemus quipped, but in hope.  Where we did not have hope, we now have hope.

Why do we now have hope? “Through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” If there is one thing we knew it was that dead people are dead. They don’t come back. Until one did. The fact that one did – Jesus Christ – gives hope.

What is the concrete nature of this hope? You have “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for you.” The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the proof that the sacrifice of the cross stands. Heaven has been opened for you. This life may pass away, but your life is in the resurrection.  And death no longer has any hold over it.

When do we come into this inheritance? It is “guarded through faith…to be revealed in the last time.” It is yours right now in faith. You can choose to live right now as if this is just the beginning of eternal life. Which it is. And it will be revealed as such at the last time when all the sons of God are revealed (Romans 8:19). So this inheritance is now and not yet. Nothing stops us from living it now by faith.  The fullness has not yet been revealed.

Why do we live in this now and not yet? “You have been grieved by various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith…may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” The Christian living by faith, even thought they have not seen, is the highest praise that one can give to God. God has testified and revealed himself.  The devil’s first move is to call God a liar. Faith is simply believing what God has said and revealed about himself.  He is not liar, but a good and gracious Lord. All creation is meant to render unto God his glory.  The Christian who lives by faith does this.

What again is the outcome of this? You “obtain the outcomes of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” Now souls in our day and age might sound like an airy word, but to avoid the idea of cherubs floating on clouds, maybe we should simply gloss soul as self. The outcome of you faith is the salvation of your self, your person, your consciousness, who you are. In the resurrection of Jesus Christ, you, what makes you you, has been saved.

We tend to think of faith lightly.  To Peter, that faith is very concrete.  And as we read this letter over the Easter season we will learn more.

Easter Prep

Two quick thoughts about almost all the resurrection accounts in the gospels.  First, setting aside the Road to Emmaus in Luke, which for some reason is only read in the Easter Season once ever three years (stupid lectionary), they are all rather straight-forward.  What I mean by that is they capture some silly things, like John’s 153 fish.  They capture some embarrassing things.  None of the disciples, who after all had been told this was going to happen, went out.  It was only the Mary’s that went out. But they largely are just reports of surprise.  “He is not here; He is risen.” It is that report like nature that to me makes them honest. This actually happened.  They are not – other than that road to Emmaus – deep theological reflections.  Even John’s resurrection accounts are “yeah, I ran faster than Peter after we heard.”  Nobody has had the time or even the inclination to theologize.  It just is.  And the fact of the resurrection is enough by itself that 2000 years later people still can’t accept it.  More theology has probably been written trying to deny it than understand it.  But the accounts are simple.  “He is not here; He is risen.”

The second quick thought might not be so quick.  The angels in Matthew tell the Mary’s, “he’s risen, go tell his disciples, he’ll meet you in Galilee.”  Then Jesus jump scares them “Greetings!” And Jesus says the same thing, “go to Galilee, I’ll see them there.” Mark’s gospel probably ends with the angel’s announcement to the Mary’s. It is either that, or the original ending of Mark’s gospel was lost. Because what we have as the ending isn’t in any of the great 4th century bibles.  And what we have is clearly a summary from the other gospels and probably the book of Acts with it’s bit about snake handling. Luke has that road to Emmaus which has at least two disciples getting out of Dodge, if for the wrong reasons.  And John’s gospel even explicitly has one of the resurrection appearances beside the Sea of Tiberias, which is the Sea of Galilee.  That’s where they get the 153 fish. Yet for some reason we think all of this takes place in and around Jerusalem.

We probably think that because of Luke 24:49 where Jesus tells them to wait in the city until they are clothed with power from on high.  Of course he tells this to them after he has asked for some fish.  Which sounds more like Galilee than Jerusalem.  But Luke picks the story back up in Acts and says in Acts 1:4, “he ordered them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father.”  Were they in Jerusalem the entire 40 days?  Did the plan change from those early morning hours when Jesus said he’d meet them in Galilee?  And what does it really matter?

As far as mattering, there is a fittingness to the mission of the church – to proclaim Christ risen to the world, starting in Jerusalem – actually starting from home.  Abraham was called to leave home for the land God would give him. Likewise the disciples being called from home with the first target the Holy  City has a biblical rhyming quality. Salvation comes from outside of us. It comes from outside of what we would consider holy. It comes to us in the crucified one, from Nazareth, in Galilee.

But the real answer might simply be practical.  The disciples had been in Jerusalem for the Passover.  The Passover was over.  Sunday would be the day all the pilgrims started home.  “I’ll see you in Galilee.” The next pilgrimage festival was Pentecost. So they went back to Jerusalem.  Jesus ascends, but He tells them to wait in Jerusalem.  His Ascencion might have spooked them to flee without his words.  Instead, do not be afraid.  Stay for the festival.  Stay for Pentecost. Because it is about to be fulfilled.  The gospels don’t give us a full travel itinerary, but I don’t think we have to read in some “Jesus and the angels were confused” or “they changed plans.” It’s 40 days. You probably go home.  Where you just happen to see Jesus as he told you.

Holy Week Preview

I’m still adjusting to the Synod’s liturgical change from a pure Palm Sunday to a Passion Sunday preceded by a Procession of Palms. Synod in its core meaning is “walking together” and I seriously attempt to do so.  Part of the constitution of the Synod is both Article 3.7, “encourage congregations to strive for uniformity in church practice,” and Article 6.4, “exclusive use of doctrinally pure agenda, hymnbooks and catechisms in church and school.”  Divergence isn’t necessarily heretical, but The Church is bigger than my personal feelings, wants or desires. After about a decade of denial and anger that they had changed it, and a year or two of bargaining, I just accepted the Sunday of Palms and Passion.  But accepting that liturgical change on one day in Holy Week, I’ve started to think causes ripples in the entire week.

The biggest one is on Good Friday.  My practice before – which is an option in the approved Altar Book – was the collective congregational reading of the passion story in the form of the Tenebrae service. Tenebrae is that service with the steady dowsing of the lights.  It was not so much the theatrical elements, although those are fine, but the collective reading of the story. The Passion story is the core memory of all believers. That Good Friday service was a yearly remembrance almost like the Jewish Passover meal.  But when you’ve read at least a good part of that on the Sunday prior, just repeating it seemed off.

But there is a very similar Good Friday service – maybe the actual origin of that Tenebrae – that is not about the entire passion – everything from after the Supper to Christ’s burial – but has a much tighter focus.  Jesus across the four gospels says seven (7) things from the cross.  It is often called the Seven Words from the Cross, or the Seven Last Words.  This tighter focus also has roots deep into the Christian past. There are significant musical setting in Latin from the 1500’s, German settings from the 1600’s solidly post Reformation, with maybe Haydn’s 1787 work being the standout.  There is also a pop version.  Andrew Lloyd Webber kinda ends Jesus Christ Superstar with the seven words.

So, this Holy Week, this is what you can expect. Today, Palms and Passion, is the expansive view of everything.  From the crowds singing Hosanna to shouting crucify. From the angst of the Chief Priests, “See the world has gone after him.” To their cruelty mocking him on the cross in what they think is their triumph. From all the disciples gathered to all of them scattered. From the life of a victory parade, to the hurried march to placement in the tomb.  Palms and Passion becomes a story of contrasts.  What does faith see in the entire scene?

Thursday, Maundy Thursday, is the institution of the Supper. Maybe it is just that I haven’t contemplated it yet.  There is another tradition for this night, that of foot-washing.  The Maundy comes from Latin Mandatum, mandate or command.  The foot-washing is usually paired with the command to “love one another as I have loved you.” But that foot-washing scene is not that one that Jesus tells us to keep doing.  On that night he says “do this in remembrance of me,” the this being the Supper. And in a Synod that attempts to hang onto closed communion – the Supper being for those who are baptized and profess belief – a yearly ceremonial focusing on the supper alone seems appropriate.

And Good Friday will maintain the Tenebrae, the dowsing of the lights structure, but it will be focused around those Seven Last Words.  And our Hymnbook includes a hymn meditation to go along with them, LSB 447 Jesus, in Your Dying Woes. Having done the Seven Words a couple of times, I think you might be surprised at the emotional effect of meditating on their simplicity. While being tied to the very specific day of Crucifixion, they speak directly to our wants and worries in a powerful way.  

Son of Man

“Son of Man” is Jesus’ nickname for himself.  There are lots of reasons that get floated.  Typically the story goes something like this. “Christ” or “Messiah” was too loaded a term. It had come to mean expected earthly conquest and revenge leader. This is the thing that even the recent Dune movies pick up on most. Oppressed people looking for a promised leader that will lead them to victory and revenge. Jesus did not want to give any credence to that idea, so he chose a relatively obscure yet still messianic title.  “Son of Man” was used by the prophet Daniel.  “I saw in the night visions, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him. (Dan. 7:13 ESV).”  That is the single verse the messianic claims for the title rest upon.

The phrase itself – “son of man” – is used 189 times in the Bible.  The New Testament appearances are mostly in the Gospels and Jesus’ self-reference. The others are clearly referencing Jesus.  The Old Testament uses the phrase 107 times.  That Daniel verse being one. Many of the others are like it’s first use in Numbers, “God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind. (Num. 23:19 ESV)” – a poetic sobriquet for a human that often makes a great distinction between God and man. But what really sent me down this rabbit hole is that out of those 107 Old Testament uses of “son of man” Ezekiel uses is 93 times. And it is almost always a direct address.  It is God speaking to his prophet.  Like his first use of it.  “And he said to me, “Son of man, stand on your feet, and I will speak with you.” (Ezek. 2:1 ESV).”

And I wish I could reproduce the effect for you of reading through the list.  If you want, ask me for a print of all the verses in order.  The effect is a building sense that God is not just talking to the prophet Ezekiel, but he is talking to The Prophet.

“Son of man, I send you to the people of Israel, to nations of rebels, who have rebelled against me. (Ezek. 2:3 ESV)”

“You, son of man, be not afraid of them, nor be afraid of their words (Ezek. 2:6 ESV)”

“Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel. (Ezek. 3:17 ESV)”

“And you, O son of man, behold, cords will be placed upon you, (Ezek. 3:25 ESV)”

The drumbeat continues through the chapters.  Until you get to our Old Testament lesson today.

The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out in the Spirit of the LORD and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones. And he led me around among them, and behold, there were very many on the surface of the valley, and behold, they were very dry. And he said to me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”  (Ezek. 37:1-3 ESV)

Son of Man, can these bones live?

That’s the question, isn’t it?  Death has had free reign, like US Air Power over Iran.  Death can strafe where it wants to.  It can drop bombs that make huge craters anywhere. It could even go nuclear if it so desired. And the bones of a thousand generations lie in the dust they came from.  There were very many and they were very dry.

Son of Man, can these bones live?

The prophet Ezekiel answers the question in the only way he could – “LORD GOD, you know.” But what about The Prophet? Has The Prophet made up his mind? Can these bones live?  Or is this all a grand but failed experiment?

God tells Ezekiel to prophesy – to preach – to the bones. “Hear the word of the LORD.”  And the final word of the LORD in the vision is the promise.  “You shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people…I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the LORD.”

Can these bones live?

Absolutely.

Contrarian Light

I don’t know if I was born a contrarian, or if I was nurtured into one. Like in most of these situations the real answer is probably a little of both. I don’t remember a time where my natural inclination wasn’t to go in the opposite direction of the hoard. At the same time I don’t exactly remember a time that my mother didn’t go her own way.  Maybe my favorite story of that involves a water park.  We had been begging all summer to go.  This is extreme Northern Illinois, so June and July are the warm months.  Early August would be fine, but you get a touch of fall in late August.  Mom’s response in June and July and even early August was “the hottest time is the end of August.” Daughter of Southern Illinois that she was.  Now I don’t exactly know what was on her mind, whether it was the last week of summer vacation, an empty park, or if Mom truly believed that August 29th in Northern Illinois would be the best weather for a water park. But that is when we went.  And when we set out the temperature read 59 F. I think it maxxed out about 73 F.  And by shortly after noon, three bluish boys were asking, “Can we go home?” To which mom said “It’s perfect, enjoy the day.” We left shivering about 3:30 PM.

Our lectionary texts this week all hinge on light and darkness, on blindness and sight.  And of the many biblical metaphors for justification, these are the one that I am least comfortable with. I also think they tend to be the ones that a lot of preachers instinctively reach for. And I don’t know if this is an example of my contrarian streak, or something more meaningful.  But let’s walk through some of my hesitance with these metaphors.

First, light and darkness are absolutely good metaphors for what God has done in Christ. “For at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the World (Ephesians 5:8).” I think my contrarian take is rooted in the next verse.  “Walk as children of the light…and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord (Ephesians 5:9).” I just have little confidence in our ability to discern light and darkness. There are lots of things that get sold as light, that turn out to be deep darkness. Our world is awash in them.  It certainly doesn’t help that Satan can “disguise himself as an angel of light (2 Corinthian 11:14).” Discernment is something that takes a sanctified lifetime to build.  And when and if you develop it, you probably find yourself surrounded by blind people who won’t listen.

That leads to my second misgiving. Isaiah 42 from which our Old Testament lesson comes from starts out with one of the servant songs. It is a song about the justice and rightness of what the servant of the Lord will accomplish and one of praise – “Sing to the LORD a new song (Isaiah 42:10)” – for the zeal with which he will accomplish everything. And the pinnacle of this is “I will turn the darkness before them into light (Isaiah 42:16).” But what does Israel do when this servant is sent?  They remain deaf and blind. “Because he is righteous, the LORD has exalted his glorious law. (Isaiah. 42:21 NLT).”   But, “who among you gave ear to this, will attend and listen for the time to come? (Isaiah 42:23).”  And the answer is not many.

If I’m preaching in the metaphor of light and darkness, it is only on the most sure things.  The starkest law where discernment is not exactly needed.  “Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. (Ephesians 5:11).”  The unfruitful works of darkness like murder, adultery, theft, false witness, envy. You can find other lists like the one in Ephesians 5:3-7, interestingly cut off by our lectionary reading.  Or preaching the opposite, the clearest light as from the resurrection tomb.

And it is that resurrection light that anchors this metaphor. “Awake O Sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you (Ephesians 5:14).” The light is not our work.  We are more like the moon in that we only reflect the light of the Son. It is God’s work to enlighten, the Spirit’s specifically. God has raised his Son that we might see him clearly.  We might not see everything clearly, but we can see the Son.  

Unscrupulous

In business grad school I had this professor who also happened to be an orthodox Jew.  By orthodox I don’t mean Haredi, who are often like urban Amish, completely separate from society. He kept the Sabbath, he followed the kosher laws, he wore the yarmulke.  It is that yarmulke that I am thinking about.  Because one day in class he takes it off. Something that an Orthodox Jew should not do. He takes a minute to say exactly that, but also that it was the perfect example for the concept he was teaching. The concept happened to be a parabolic shape like an upside down yarmulke and that the operational point we were looking for was that local minimum, the bottom of the upside down hat. And he concluded that he supposed the Lord would forgive the trespass of going hatless because it was done for the mitzvah, the good work of teaching.

Now almost 30 years later I don’t remember much about that class, but I remember that episode. And I also suppose that entire lesson might have been planned around that.  That a business operations professor also wanted to teach something about God to a group of students much more interested in money. Christian Mark tied it immediately to Jesus walking through the wheat fields plucking some grain, and Jesus being met at the Pharisee’s door with the man with dropsy. My Orthodox Jewish professor’s understand of God and the law seemed to mirror Jesus in that laws can conflict. The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.  Hence if the choice was Sabbath or hunger – and we are not talking about fat Americans here who could almost all skip a meal or two – take care of the hunger.  And the second one maybe even closer.  If you have the ability to do the good work – like healing the man of dropsy – even if it breaks the sabbath, do it.

There is an old-fashioned word – scrupulosity – that catches what I’m thinking about.  It is old fashioned because we are all antinomians now.  We are very used to dismissing the law or saying it doesn’t apply for many and sundry reasons. But like my professor, that is a bad habit.  He really considered the law before taking his yarmulke off. The law of God is good and wise and we should not be quick to dismiss it. But there is a ditch on the other side.  Scrupulosity is something that has often been hurled at Martin Luther himself.  The Table Talk has Luther being thrown out of the confessional by von Staupitz and told not to come back until he had committed an actual sin. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, but we can carry that fear too long.  Fear is the beginning.  Love and trust are the completion. The person afflicted with scrupulosity is always worried about the little things.  Like tithing the mint and cumin (Matthew 23:23).  And they might come to see God as the galactic accountant scrupulously counting each penny.

But that is not God’s self-revelation. God is rather unscrupulous. David, that horn-dog, is called a man after God’s own heart.  God seems to have no problem calling prophetesses – like Deborah we studied on Wednesday – even through that would seem to cross a law or two. Or Jesus himself defending the work of picking grain on the Sabbath or healing the diseased man. The God who has revealed himself is one full of mercy and abounding in steadfast love. He is a God who is going to do His good work.  A God of whom it is said it is his glory to overlook offense (Proverbs 19:11).  A God who removes sin and remembers it no more.  We have an unscrupulous God.  One who forgives the sin while we are still sinners. One who quickly holds that love covers a multitude of sins. And whose great command is to love one another.

Golden Mean vs. All-In

The wisdom of the world is often expressed as the golden mean.  The Oracle said, “nothing in excess.” Aristotle talked about virtue as the path between extremes.  Courage was the virtue between recklessness and cowardice. And it is not just a western thing.  The Buddhist might chart the middle path between existence and non-existence which was the expansion of the Buddha’s original rejection of both extreme asceticism (non-existence) and self-indulgence (too much existence).  And you can even find it in Christian thought.  For Aquinas and Dante the middle path is that between insufficient love and excessive love. In our love infatuated age it might be hard to imagine that second pole of excessive love.  But think again of courage and recklessness.  Isn’t recklessness an excessive love of risk? It is hard to outgrow old training so I return to a finance example. If one part of our society is engaged in the attempt to eliminate all risk, like shutting down all society for a virus, is not the other, invested in prop bets on Draft Kings and Crypto coins, running to an excess love of it?

And you would be a fool to completely reject the golden mean. But there is something in the spiritual life that speaks against it. Let’s describe it as submission and aggression. God says to Abram, “Go, from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land I will show you (Genesis 12:1).” It is the demand of absolute submission. Not much later God would ask Abram to sacrifice Isaac, his only son, the only child of that promise. And Jesus uses demands like this.  “”If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26 ).”  Or speaking in a way that people responded – “this is a hard teaching, who can listen to it” – “”Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. (Jn. 6:53).”  You shall have no other gods before me is a call for complete submission.

Yet that submission is aggressive, it is not passive.  “Abram was 75 years old when he departed from Haran.  And Abram took Sarai…and Lot…and all their possessions…and set out (Genesis 12:4-5).” Sarah when Isaac was born told Abraham to get rid of Hagar and Ishmael, and God told him to listen to his wife. Joshua was told to conquer the land and Israel was only rebuked when they didn’t go far enough. And like Abram who “journeyed on (Genesis 12:9),” Jesus “sets his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51).”  Within Jesus’ prayer at Gethsemane “Lord, not my will, but thine be done” are both the absolute submission and the aggression.

I think there is something here of what we need. Occasionally it is the law which says do this.  And the “this” is usually some virtue or some golden mean.  The golden rule – “treat your neighbor as you would like to be treated” – is akin to that golden mean. If we all lived that way, we would have no problems.  But we don’t live that way.  And as much as the philosophers might agree in theory, in practice each one has their own list of virtues and their ordering. And when we find ourselves off the middle way, and the true path is lost, it takes something radical to restore us.  It takes the One who “gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist (Romans 4:17).” 

It is that One, who is not at all the middle way, but a jealous God, that we need. And who has shown up not walking a middle path dispensing wisdom like the Buddha, but setting his face for the cross. And it is that One who has given us a promise like Abram.  The Kingdom is yours.

A Life Well Lived?

It is Lent, so I get to be a little more somber. And Satan’s big lie to Eve is the bald assertion that “you will not surely die.” And it is a completely unfair lie.  Did Eve even have a concept of death?  Or maybe a better way of expressing that would be that Eve only had a concept of death.  The naked reality of it is not something she was acquainted with. So even if she had a concept, she was working in the realm of theory.  And we all know what happens to theory when it meets reality.

I watched a recent interview with former Senator Ben Sasse. He is 54 years old, about the same age as I am. Also has three kids with the youngest being 15.  This past December he was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and given a plus/minus of 90 days.  He has not “given up” as the saying goes. A podcast he is recording with another friend is entitled Not Dead Yet.   He has turned himself over to an experimental treatment delivering massive amounts of chemo drugs (i.e. poison) to the cancer. But the reality is still the reality. Unlike my 80-something father whose pancreatic cancer was caught in nascent stages because his appendix just happened to go bad and the surgeon saw something, Mr. Sasse has it all over including in the spinal column which requires massive doses of morphine for the pain. The entire interview is worth your time to watch (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8MO-i3CBZQ, Uncommon Knowledge with Peter Robinson) and to listen to what he has to say.  And I don’t pass it along lightly.  He is that exceedingly rare voice who is honest enough with himself, and open enough to share, and verbal enough to express it.  And his message is that most rare of things – good.

It got me thinking about comparable works on grief and death and advice to the living and they are rare. The poets have an advantage: John Donne’s Death Be Not Proud and Dana Gioia’s Planting a Sequoia come to mind. Both of those are by people who have a functional theology and are struggling to live it. From a different place of white hot rage Mary Karr’s Face Down.  “What are you doing on this side of the dark?…” Now Ms. Karr also has a theology, or she did last I knew, but sometimes it takes a while to travel from head to heart.

The prose writers are at a disadvantage. I know quoting C.S. Lewis is getting to be a cliché, but A Grief Observed is without peer.  Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy was maybe the first Christian work on the subject of “A Good Death” or “Advice for Living from those at Death’s Door” written as he awaited the carrying out of his death sentence. Any critique I have of it says more about me than the work, but it’s a bit too much consolation and philosophy, compared to Lewis who truly lets you in the door.   There are some others.  Richard John Neuhaus attempted it in As I Lay Dying.  But he survived, and I always had a feeling he “knew” he would survive.  He was already thinking about the book he could write as he lay dying. Tolstoy fans would put forward A Confession.    Marcus Aurelius has portions in his Meditations. Simone Weil and Joan Didion both attempted and they have their adherents. But it is a hard thing to pull off.  You have to be remote enough from yourself to think and translate, while being close enough to feel.

That is where Mr. Sasse’s interview excels. He has something to say while he is on death’s door. For all of us creatures of dust, who might want to gather our rosebuds while we may, it is worth your time.

Olympic Training

I love the Olympics. I’m happy that the Winter Olympics are the closest I get to snow anymore. But there are two things that only the Olympics portray clearly.  The first thing is a law of the universe. There is always someone faster, and they are probably faster by a lot.  For example take the 1000m speed skating final.  American Jordan Stolz won it rather easily finishing a half second ahead of the silver medalist. That silver medalist himself was a half second ahead of the bronze. Now a half second may not sound like much, but that is roughly 8 meters behind which is 26 feet. The next half second differential brings you all the way down to 8th place. The 2nd best US athlete was 2.2s off or 111 feet. Now think of it this way.  That silver medalist was from the Netherlands, a country of 18 million people whose national identity is based on speed skating – Hans Brinker and the silver skates. That guy had never lost a race in his life.  He spent high school lapping people. Just to finish 26 feet behind the winner. The bronze medalist was from China, a country over a billion people. The fastest skater amongst a billion people about 50 feet in the ice-dust.

Now I point this power law nature of reality out for two reasons.  The first is roughly akin to the 2nd use of the law.  There is obviously a futility built into the law.  Everyone loses. Yes, someone wins.  Jodan Stolz. He even broke the Olympic record.  It might last 4 to 8 years.  Someone will be faster.  Everything won by the law fades.  “All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away (1 Cor. 9:25 NLT).”  But the second reason I point to this power law nature of reality is that not a single skater out there, even Daniel Milagros of Spain, last place 5 seconds or 230 feet behind would say all the preparation all the self-discipline of training was worthless. Yes, the law crushes us.  There is always someone faster.  But there is also something good in it.  We know where we stand.  We have done our duty to the best of our ability. We have run the race.

Now the apostle Paul – himself seemingly a fan of the games – turns our turns out attention from their race to ours.  “All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. (1 Cor. 9:25 NLT)” If those athletes compete with such vigor for something that is gone tomorrow – Eric Heiden was in attendance at Stolz’s race.  Does anyone remember what Eric did? –  if they do it with joy for a prize that will fade away, should we not equal that for an eternal prize?

Now a good Lutheran might be turning this argument back to the futility of the law.  According to the law we all lose. And the apostle has not suddenly become a Pelagian.  His point is more subtle. There is a personal factor in it. “I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should. Otherwise, I fear that after preaching to others I myself might be disqualified. (1 Cor. 9:27 NLT).” But he universalizes that personal factor.  “I don’t want you to forget, dear brothers and sisters, about our ancestors in the wilderness long ago. All of them were guided by a cloud that moved ahead of them, and all of them walked through the sea on dry ground,,, (1 Cor. 10:1 NLT).” Paul is pointing to the experience of Israel after the Exodus. God with grace and power and love had freed them from the house of slavey.  They were baptized in the Sea and ate the spiritual food (manna) and drink the water from the rock which was Christ.  Paul’s laying out the similarity.  You were baptized and you have tasted the body and blood of Christ. “Yet God was not pleased with most of them, and their bodies were scattered in the wilderness. (1 Cor. 10:5 NLT).”  They disqualified themselves.

The Corinthians that Paul was writing too were all about their freedom in the gospel.  Yet they were neglecting their training.  “You say, “I am allowed to do anything”– but not everything is good for you. You say, “I am allowed to do anything”– but not everything is beneficial. (1 Cor. 10:23 NLT).”  It is not that the training saves us.  It’s that we want to finish the race. There were two guys in that race who were disqualified (Gabriel Odor and Ziwan Lian). They impeded fellow racers in fact. Ziwan probably enough to deny another man a medal.  The race is long. But we can’t let it sap us of the joy of being there. Because we run not for a wreath that fades, but an eternal one. A weight of glory which we can’t really measure today.  Not the fading strains of the national anthem – which they don’t even show anymore.  But the eternal music of the spheres.