As a teenager I remember engaging with friends in long, long discussions about those questions. Could God produce a rock too heavy to lift? Could God microwave a burrito so hot that even he couldn’t eat it? More often than not, these were questions asked because they niggled. Occasionally, though, someone would suggest that it proved God couldn’t exist.
In any case, I’ve become accustomed to side-stepping these by highlighting the importance of understanding God as he is towards us. Often the philosophical questions result in discussions of an abstract god or a caricature of God. God’s identity is removed from his self-revelation in Scripture, and is reduced to a series of categories - omnipotency, omnipresence, impassibility, aseity, etc. I’ve found that a more meaningful discussion of God draws from God’s revelation of himself. I can still hear my doctrine lecturer, Robert Doyle repeating the phrase, “God is who he is towards us!”
Of course, Robert was channelling Karl Barth, who was channelling Soren Kierkegaard. Kierkegaard, often called the Father of Existentialism, keenly opposed systems of thought and particularly those proposed by his predecessors Kant and Hegel. Barth continued this method in his theology, mostly ignoring categories of Systematic Theology and preferring to understand God by his (mostly) excellent exegesis of Scripture. It’s a result of such emphases that here at Moore College Biblical Studies rightly holds a place of priority among the subjects we study. God is as he is as he is towards us: He has revealed himself most clearly in his son Jesus, whose life and work reconciled humanity with himself, and issued in hope of new creation, which is brought into being by God’s Spirit. This is the triune God as revealed in Scripture, the one that Christians believe and worship.
I don’t mean to dismiss any value in discussing God’s attributes; this discussion could venture into a number of interesting areas from here. But the question that I’ve got going relates to the work of Oliver Crisp. I was introduced to Crisp at last year’s School of Theology on John Calvin. More recently, I’ve been reading Crisp’s 2007 work, Divinity and Humanity, a series of essays that relate to the Chalcedonian Definition, both challenging it and reinforcing it. To my surprise, Crisp has embraced these philosophical categories, used them to critique people like Barth and Gunton, and yet doesn’t even mention this key difference in methodology.
In one particular chapter, I’m left almost completely unconvinced by Crisp’s rebuttal of Edward Irving’s, Gunton’s and Barth’s view that Christ had a fallen nature. Granted, it was a short essay. But it really could have engaged more in the long and sustained arguments of any of these thinkers who work closer to the biblical texts and not philosophical categories like God’s omnipotence.
Oliver Crisp is a man much smarter than I am and I certainly don’t want to disrespect him. I also don’t want to say that there is NO value in using these philosophical categories, I guess I’m just confused. Haven’t we realised the limits of these categories?
This weekend I’ll be playing guitar at church for the first time. At least the first time with my dear family at CBTB.
For those who already do this kind of thing or are thinking of doing it down the track, my friend Cedric pointed me to this masterclass video that is definitely worth checking out. It’s by a guy in the UK called Dave Clifton - a guy with chops and a great vision for what church music is trying to achieve. I had no idea that the guitar was so versatile!
I came back down to Canberra on Monday after mission to catch up with my family and a few friends.
I always find it hard coming back because there just isn’t time to see all the people I want to see. This usually results in the type of paralysis that leaves me seeing no one at all, or at least very few people. It’s a real shame.
But today I found it extra hard. I spent some time wandering around the Uni campus and I bumped into a number of kids that I led in youth group years ago - not kids anymore, all grown up. Or at least pretending to be grown up.
I spoke to few, and heard about a few others and it seems that many of them aren’t going so well in their walks with Jesus and it’s breaking my heart.
“Listen! A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants, so that they did not bear grain. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, multiplying thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times.”
Then Jesus said, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
(Mark 4:3-9 NIV)
Image: Danilo Rizzuti / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
One of my friends jokingly said that this was their favourite blog. I haven’t posted in months and haven’t said anything thoughtful for much longer. So I’ve decided that it’s time.
Here are five things that I’ve learned about blogs as I’ve had mixed experiences in reading other people’s blogs and as I’ve failed at contributing to my own. Let me enumerate.
1. Thinking is just plain hard work. What this means is that blogging is easier when it expresses the thoughts you’ve had during the week and it’s harder when it’s a special project.
2. I like a good-looking website. It often doesn’t matter at all as people use RSS feeds, but when it comes to scoping out a website in its natural habitat, I unashamedly judge a book by its cover.
3. Shorter is better. It’s quicker to write. It’s quicker to read. It makes you get to the point. NOTE - this doesn’t mean that it can’t be interesting, funny and even poetic. It just means that someone might care to read it.
4. Keep it regular. I habitually visit the same sites each day expected my next snack. When there’s nothing to take I might not come back for a little while. Impulsive? Sure. Feed me.
5. Give me Meat. While underlining the need to keep things punchy, I want something meaningful, or funny, or informative or at least well written. Drivel drives me insane.
This has been more for my benefit than yours. I guess what this means is that I’ll be back again soon with something a little shorter (maybe also more thoughtful… and better looking…. )