I've often been accused by certain members of my family of giving the
"encyclopedia" rather than the "dictionary" answer when asked a
question. My response to such an accusation is this: if you don't want
to know the answer, don't ask the question! All my answers to questions
aren't long and involved, however. If someone asks me what time it is,
or how hot it is outside, or what I ate for supper last night, I'll
probably give a pretty short answer. If I'm asked about something that
I find interesting, however, chances are I'll launch into an extended
diatribe. The problem is, I'm interest in lots of different things. I
suspect that some of my students have figured this out, because they
sometimes ask me questions that lead to rather long discussions. In one
class today, one question I was asked had to do with the problem of evil
and another had to do with the origin of writing, neither of which was
directly related to the material we were studying (i.e., Hebrew). I've
discovered that the best way to stifle questions that are asked merely
to take me off course is to remind students that they are responsible
for all the material on the test, whether I cover it in class or
not. Although I might be unusually verbose, I don't think my curiosity
about the world is anything out of the ordinary. People are naturally
curious, and humanity's quest for knowledge has led to tremendous
advances over the years in the areas of medicine, technology,
psychology, linguistics, and many, many other areas of study. In
general, the quest for knowledge is a good thing, but what happens when
knowledge outstrips wisdom? In the story of the Garden of Eden, the
serpent tempts Adam and Eve with the promise of knowledge. Since they
are human beings, they naturally want to know as much as possible, so
they succumb to the temptation. When their eyes are opened, they
realize that their quest for knowledge has resulted in tremendous loss.
No longer are they the innocents they were prior to tasting the fruit.
Their world is no longer a paradise, because it is tainted with the
knowledge of pain and death. They lose their place in the garden, yet
in so doing they become completely human, for good or ill. I don't
think the lesson of the garden is that the quest for knowledge is wrong.
I think the lesson is that the acquisition of knowledge sometimes has
unintended consequences, and those who obtain knowledge must use all
their God-given wisdom to use their newly-found knowledge for the good
of the world we all live in. Our knowledge of medicine has led to the
possibility of creating biological weapons. Our knowledge of physiology
and biology has led to the possibility of reproductive human cloning.
Our knowledge of science has led us to create weapons systems with
enormous destructive potential, a globally interconnected society that
is overly dependent upon technology, and genetically engineered
organisms that pose a potential danger to life on the planet. Yes,
knowledge is good, and the pursuit of knowledge is good, but it is vital
that we learn to temper our use of our newly found knowledge with the
wisdom that comes from God.
Psalm 32 (first
published 13 February 2005)
How truly happy is a man When God forgives his blackest sin. What joy when God removes the guilt Through him whose precious blood was spilt. When hidden sin was in my life, My days and nights were full of strife. I felt your rod upon back. My heart despaired, my strength grew slack. In desperation to you I cried. My deepest sin I did not hide. I said, "My sins I must confess," And you forgave! You called be blest. So pray to God you pure in heart, While it is day before the dark. You hide me, Lord, from misery And surround me with shouts of victory. "I will show you the way you should go, And teach you wisdom that you should know. Don't stiffen your neck in pride and say, 'I can make it,' for I am the Way." The wicked live in sore despair, But for the faithful God's mercy is there. So be happy in God and lift your voice, You righteous ones, rejoice, rejoice!
Romans 5:12-19 (first published 13 February 2005)
For the past several years many of the world's political leaders,
leaders of the United Nations, leading human rights activists, and even
the pope have called on the industrialized countries of the world to
forgive the debt of Third World nations. Imagine this scenario in a
typical underdeveloped country. After the nation gains its independence
from a colonial power, probably in the 1960s, the people have high
expectations and hold their first free elections. Lack of sufficient
technological expertise, an educated workforce, or infrastructure quickly
lead the nation into chaos, and a strongman seizes power. The country has
a few very rich people, but the masses remain poor. The poor attempt to
bind themselves together to oppose their oppressors, perhaps encouraged by
Marxist economic theories and ideals of egalitarianism. The free
democracies of the West, fearful of the dangers they believe to be
inherent in all forms of communism, pour military aid into the country,
propping up the tyrant and the military in their oppression of the common
people. The ruler appropriates the country's natural resources for
himself and his cronies, lining his own pockets, while also buying
stockpiles of weapons. Lacking the funds to pay for all the military
resources the West wants to pour into the country, the dictator accepts
loans from Western nations, promising to repay every dollar borrowed.
After years of corrupt rule, the leader is forced into exile, but he takes
with him an enormous fortune and leaves his country with a huge debt
burden. The International Monetary Fund then offers new loans to cover
the earlier loans, provided the nation implements draconian economic
measures. The newly elected leaders implement these measures, but the
promised economic improvements don't come, and in the meantime, millions
of people crowd into the cities looking for jobs that don't exist, while
other remain in the rural areas unable to eke out a living without
government aid, which is not forthcoming. One reason that aid is not
forthcoming is that the government has to make huge annual payments to its
creditors, nations and international organizations that don't need the
money nearly as much as the nation that is paying. Imagine now that the
IMF, the World Bank, and the Group of Eight, the richest eight countries
in the world, decide to forgive the debts of the 40 or 50 poorest
countries in the world. How would the life of an average citizen of those
nations be affected? Suddenly the government would have resources it
never had before, and wise elected officials would do all they could to
alleviate the suffering of the hungry, provide jobs, and support
subsistence farmers around the country. Debt forgiveness in today's world
would have a tremendous impact on people living in those countries.
Paul, writing to the Roman church, describes the effect of Christ's death
on humankind as debt forgiveness of a different sort. The transgression
of one man, Adam, introduced sin into the world, and because of Adam's
sin, all of his descendants suffer the penalty of death, Paul says. On
the contrary, because of Jesus' righteousness, all who are spiritual
descendants of Jesus receive the free gift of eternal life. Whether we
understand verse 12 to mean that all sinned in Adam ("in whom all
sinned") or to mean that all have sinned like Adam ("because all
sinned"), the end result is the same. Human beings are sinners and in
need of redemption. If we will but accept the free gift that God offers,
the gift of forgiveness, Paul says that we will be able to exercise
dominion in life. Our mortality need not render us powerless, for
Christ's righteousness gives us the ability to live our lives free from
the control of forces of oppression. Too many of us continue to live our
lives as though we were still under the thumb of sin, death, or
powerlessness, but we aren't. All we have to do is assert the authority
that we already have through faith in Christ, and we can accomplish great
things. Our debt has been paid, hallelujah!
Matthew 4:1-11 (first
published 13 February 2005)
I have what you might call a healthy fear of heights. I have no problem climbing a ladder or even being on a two-story roof, as long as I'm not too near the edge. I fly on planes with few qualms, although I prefer to drive anywhere within about 500 miles or so. However, although I like to hike and climb hills, I have no desire whatsoever to scale a mountain that requires the use of ropes, hammers, and spikes. I watch movies like K2, Vertical Limit, and Cliffhanger with a certain amount of terror. I feel the same way when I watch a high wire or a trapeze act at the circus. All I can say about Belo, the star of the Ringling Brothers/Barnum and Bailey Circus, is that he must be crazy! When I visited the circus, he climbed a ridiculously high, wobbly, vertical pole, swung on a trapeze, and performed other stunts high above the ground that I would never have attempted even on the ground when I was younger and more nimble. As the saying goes, it's not the long fall that kills you, it's the sudden stop at the end. I say all this to say that I would never have been tempted to jump off the pinnacle of the temple, or any other tall building, to see if God's angels would come to rescue me. They wouldn't need to rescue me, because I wouldn't jump. I wouldn't even be anywhere near the edge of the roof. Similarly, I've never been tempted to turn rocks into loaves of bread. I don't know how to do it, so it's just not a temptation. Although I've never been anywhere close to starvation, I've felt like I was starving at various times in my life, particular during my teenage years. The hungriest I've ever been was at Philmont Scout Ranch during the summer of 1977. We hiked in the mountains of northern New Mexico for two weeks, and we ate freeze-dried food that we carried in our backpacks. Freeze-dried food is OK, but the portions they allotted to us were not enough to satisfy the appetites we worked up from hiking ten miles a day or so. One night two friends and I liberated a can of Hershey's chocolate syrup that somehow hadn't made it into whatever that evening's dessert had been. We snuck out a little way from the main camp, opened the can, and proceeded to drink its entire contents. It was sickeningly sweet, but it helped. On the way back home from our stay, our scoutmaster made the mistake of offering to buy us as many McDonald's hamburgers as we could eat. After an appetizer of about half a dozen sandwiches in the car, I managed to eat nine hamburgers that day, and others in the group also consumed vast quantities. Despite my hunger, however, it never occurred to me to magically change a rock into bread or a pine cone into a hamburger. When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, I presume that the temptations to leap from the pinnacle of the temple or to turn stones into bread were real, despite the fact that I can't relate to them. However, I can relate to the last temptation, the promise of great riches in exchange for worshiping the devil. I haven't ever been rich, I don't ever expect to be rich, and I don't even particularly want to be rich. What do I want with the wealth of the whole world? On the other hand, I wouldn't mind if someone paid off my mortgage; or if I suddenly inherited enough money so that I could devote myself to study, writing, and teaching, regardless of remuneration; or if on my next trip to the beach I discovered some long-lost buried pirate's treasure. We're familiar with stories of people like Dr. Faustus, who sold his soul to the devil in exchange for the love of Margaret. We remember Joe Hardy, who sold his soul in exchange for a role in getting the Yankees to the World Series in Damn Yankees!. We've also read about Dorian Grey, who traded his soul for eternal youth and beauty. We might not be engaged in Satan-worship, but we often find ourselves paying homage to love, sports, youth, riches, power, or some other worldly idol. The desire for more of the world's goods even penetrates the doors of the church when we offer financial management seminars as a substitute for Jesus' command to give all we have to the poor. The things that tempt me may not be the same things that tempt you, but we are all tempted. Only by maintaining a close walk with God can we avoid succumbing to a host of temptations around us. Lent is a season in which we remember our weakness, our spiritual impoverishment, and our susceptibility to sin. As we enter this time of the year, let us remember that we cannot live the Christian life on our own. We need the strength of the one who was tempted in every way as we are, yet overcame his temptations through the power of God.