theology

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I've picked up Dante's Divine Comedy (Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradise) to study for my WIP.

(Side note: thank you, Kindle, for making this selection available to me for free. We love you, Kindle, oh yes, we do.)

A couple of interesting observations from my study of the poem and the little I've read on it (mostly in order to understand the references):

1. The Roman Catholic concept of purgatory originated with this work, which is allegorical. Most likely, Dante intended Purgatorio to represent the Christian life. Some things never change when we take allegory too literally.
2. The arrangement of sins--which is worse, in other words--differs from how the evangelical church would today arrange sins. While Dante's work isn't divinely inspired (and therefore not the biblical standard for arrangement of sin), it provides an interesting anthropological study in how our cultures affect our view of sin. To clarify: this doesn't imply that lust, for example, is a sin in one culture and not in another, or that the culture itself defines lust. It shows how we as human beings attempting to grapple with sin, its effects, and transformation from sin into life, do so differently in different ages. Dante's culture, and the problems therein, affected which sins (while all worthy of punishment and separation from God) seem more harmful. It brought to light the sins we prefer to gloss over because of our situation.
3. Dante struggled with God's justice and mercy. He reiterates that those in hell reside there because they denied Christ. And, above all, separation from God is a horrible thing. But you also see in Dante this hesitation to see good people in the hands of an angry God. So men like Virgil, Homer, Julius Caesar, Plato, and other great philosophers and thinkers, while apart from God (and quite upset to be so, to Dante's credit) are not actively tortured as others are. These men reside in a meadow in hell, which wouldn't seem so bad except for the complete lack of presence from God. Dante asks, "Is this eternal? Or will there be reprieve?"
   
   This subject continues to bother us. What is hell? What is the gnashing of teeth? What about those who seemed so close to baptism?
4. Dante incorporated Greek and Roman mythology (popular during his day as mythology saw a resurgence in the Renaissance). He uses it almost sacramentally: everyday items infused with God's grace to draw the unknowing to God.
5. Finally, an amusement: Dante had no quelms about putting real people in hell, men he admired, and men he blamed for the downfall of Florentine society. This is the writer's ultimate retribution, is it not? Cross me, and I'll put you in my novel. We may change the names (Dante didn't bother to do even that!), but we carry out our ideas of justice and revenge in our own ways.

First things first: The story would make Christopher Vogler proud, but it's predictable in every way. The computer graphics are amazing, especially with how they work with the real life film. At times, I couldn't tell which was which. And I applaud Cameron's imagination to create this amazing world with the animal and plant life. That imagination testifies to God's creativity implanted in us.

But (spoiler alert!) the ending fails.

In the beginning, the scientists talk about their desire to coexist with the Na'vi on Pandora. Yet, in the end, this does not happen. Not really. One guy becomes a Na'vi through spiritual intervention, and the Na'vi choose a couple of humans to remain on Pandora. But Cameron gives us no reason to believe that humans and Na'vi will attempt to live together peacefully, bringing together their two different cultures.

We all cheer when the military fails to destory the sacred place of the Na'vi. We did not want the U.S. military to conquer and dominate. But I'm not sure the Na'vi kicking out the military completely is a satisfying ending either. Where's the peace and harmony in this?

Also, Avatar offers no real redemption. They lost a great opportunity to do so with Parker Selfridge's character (nice name, huh?). Jake Sully warned Parker that he did not want that kind of blood on his hands. And Parker seems to show hints of regret. They could have developed that more--his remorse and repentance. Instead, they focus on the Na'vi, with guns and arrows pointed at the military, kicking them all out.

I'm not saying I'm on the side of the military. Clearly, the military were wrong and selfish and consumerist-driven. This calls for justice. But justice doesn't exclude redemption.

One last complaint: Cameron created straw men. Is there truth embedded in the characters he created--in this innocent native group and imperialistic military group? Yes. Of course. But he took this to the extreme. The innocent natives are only innocent and the imperialistic military and corporate guys are only impirialistic. The only type of redemption, then, available in this system is to become a native. In other words, to be saved, you have to leave your culture and enter into another culture rather than work with Christ to change the culture in which you live so that every culture will bow at the name of Christ.

No real redemption. No peace and harmony between people groups. That's why Avatar fails.

Yesterday, I ended Part I wondering what questions we ask of the Biblical narrative. And this leads me to the essence of why I no longer hold to inerrancy: the doctrine of inerrancy asks the wrong questions.

The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia (vol. 2) says, "Those who speak of inerrancy usually mean freedom from any kind of error--scientific, historical, chronological, etc." (p. 821). But is this how the human writers of the Bible approached truth?

Let me make one side note here: those who believe in inerrancy and those who believe in infallibity both have an equal amount of respect and honor for God's word. Both camps believe God's word to be inspired (or God-breathed) and useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16). Both believe that Scripture reveals God's character (as, for example, omniscient, omnipotent, unfailing, etc.) and the creation, fall, and redemption of the world and humanity. Both take Scipture seriously.

With that in mind, I believe the argument for infallibility is stronger than the argument for inerrancy.

First, while God is all-knowing, sovereign, and full of truth, he works within limited humanity. Both camps believe this, but let me flesh it out. In working within humanity, he works within understanding and cultures in order to communicate. On the scientific level, the most obvious example is how the biblical authors reference the sun as rising and setting, which we today would acknowledge as a misunderstanding to the scientific workings of the cosmos. Even those in the camp of inerrancy acknowledge this.

But what about other aspects? For example, until Isaiah, the biblical authors wrote stories and poetry that affirms God as being more powerful than other gods. (Isaiah clarifies in tongue-and-cheek manner that these so-called gods are figments of our imaginations and craft.)

Or the Genesis account talks about God creating the sea creatures, a word used in other places to reference the mythological leviathan (Job 7:12; Isaiah 27:1; Psalm 74:13). In the culture of the biblical authors, the sea was a scary place filled with uncontrollable creatures called leviathan. In the creation account, God affirms his omnipotence over even these sea creatures. We see this theme carried through the Psalms and Isaiah and again in Revelation when John, picking up on passages such as Psalm 74 and Isaiah 27, notes especially that God destroyed the sea, which is the house of these sea creatures. In light of this, what do we do if these sea creatures (sometimes translated as dragon or sea monster) don't actually exist?

This brings me to the area of genres. As God communicates within cultures, he does so with the genres of these cultures. So back to our Genesis creation account. our evolution v. Intelligent Design wars ask the wrong questions of the passage. The writer of the account (I'm refusing to name any names or go into this because I don't want to get side-tracked with that discussion) framed the story with a common genre of Ugaritic creation accounts. Genesis 1 shares plot points with other Mesopotamian accounts. But it also has key differences (regarding the nature of God and the nature of humanity), and these differences would have stuck out to those familiar with the genre. (Augustine also speaks of the literary nature of the creation account.)

Does this mean that we can't believe in a six-day creation? No, but it means that's not the point. Perhaps that's how God created the world. But perhaps it's not. (For those of you interested in this issue, you can go here, here, and here.) The doctrine of inerrancy focuses on the wrong question.

Second, the Church creeds employ the term "infallibilty" but do not use the term "inerrancy." They use it to describe a sureness or certainty or faith in God's word in matters relating to salvation and life. Scriptures are reliable, trustworthy, and meaningful to contemporary life. But that doesn't mean they have to have the same types of standards (notice I said types, not levels) created in this scientific era. I take you again to Medieval days. Storytellers told and retold the account of King Arthur. With each telling, minute details changed over time. The tellers embellished or omitted certain things. They may have changed the order of events. But to the people at the time, this did not make the stories any less true or reliable. I don't say this to intimidate that we need to adopt the Medieval mindset. I say this as a reminder that the current mindset, preoccupied with scientific and chronological details, does not need to be imposed on the mindset of the biblical writers in order to prove the reliability of Scriptures. God does not lie, but he limits himself in order to communicate to us. And as any exegete knows, in order to understand what God is communicating, we must understand how and why he does so.

One final note before you have at me. I don't believe this means that we kowtow to science. (In fact, if you click on the last "here" link above, you'll see that while I don't think we have to necessarily hold to a six-day creation, I think there are theological and philosophical issues with evolution [on the macro level] to consider.) If inerrancy requires the Bible to be scientifically accurate, it opens the door for science to be the standard for truth, meaning things are only true if scientifically proven by humans. If science is the standard for truth, then a false dichotomy arises between science and the Bible. God uses science (as he does art and other facets) to continue to communicate to us (although in different ways than his biblical communication). We submit everything to God, knowing that our knowledge has always been and will always be limited but also knowing that these endeavors are part of fulfilling what it means to be human. And how fun is it that we have an eternity to learn, discover, and explore scientifically and artistically?

The Diving Bell and The Butterfly is based on the memoir of Jean-Dominque Bauby, editor-in-chief of Elle magazine. After suffering a massive stroke, Jean-Dominique lived with locked-in syndrome, meaning that though his mind was active and healthy, his body, except for his eyes and minor head movement, was paralyzed.

A speech therapist devised a system so that Jean-Dominique could communicate by blinking his left eye (his right eye had to be sewn closed because of problems--I can't stand watching anything related to surgery, needles, or sharp objects and eyes). She repeated each letter of the alphabet (arranged according to popularity rather than in alphabetical order), and he blinked at the correct letter to spell words.

After Jean-Dominique learned the system, he contacted the publisher that had recently signed a contract with him. He wanted to write his memoir.

This movie is some Swiss Family Robinson story. It doesn't gloss over the ugliness of the disease, making it some beautiful conduit without which Jean-Dominique would have never discovered himself. It is wonderfully acted, directed and filmed, often in a documentary style. When Jean-Dominique first wakes in the hospital after coming out of a coma (and for quite a bit after that), you see everything from his hazy perspective. My husband and I cringed at the blurry, vacillating objects. It's hard to watch, in other words, attempting to give you a taste of Jean-Dominique's adjustment.

Jean-Dominique is not suddenly some saint because of his stroke and syndrome. He feels sorry for himself; he doesn't always treat people well. In fact, at times, he can be an ass (at least in the movie--who knows what's fictionalized and what's true to form).

But here's what amazed me: even at this point, when his body betrays him, when he cannot function as he once did, he responds with creativity and culture. He chooses to use his imagination. This is how integral creating is to humanity. I found myself wondering if he, in fact, acted more fully human than I do watching TV on the couch every night (or in the office crammed together with my husband on the one overstuffed chair, since we no longer have cable and watch TV shows on the Internet). This shamed me. How can I complain about the difficulties of writing? He awoke early in the morning, considered what he wanted to write, memorized it, then dictated it by eye-blinks later that morning for four hours each day. No surprisingly, his book became a bookseller.

But he didn't have much time to enjoy that. He died ten days after it released.

Writing the book wasn't about acknowledgement. It was about creating itself and about communicating.

Let me be blunt (again): I don't understand the over-spiritualization in North America. To clarify: I don't mean that I believe there are things related to spirituality and things unrelated to spirituality. I mean that we talk about things in a hyped-up manner, using what we call spiritual terms in a manner not found in the Bible.

Side note: I blame this on the so-called Second Great Awakening, my go-to scapegoat for all spiritual things wrong in the United States.

Side note 2: This over-spiritualization somehow combines with and emerged from a prevailing Deist view and value system in the foundations of our country.

To wit: talk about God's will typically abrogates our lack of responsibility, smoothes over our egos, and undergirds our desires. For example, we say, "I'll get that promotion if it's God's will."  I don't mean to take away from God's sovereignty or his personal and intimate interaction in his creation, but let's be honest here. We may not get that promotion because we drink in the gossip at the water cooler or because we turn in reports late or because we fail to work with excellence. Or we may not get that promotion because someone else is better for the job. (Our egos can take rejection better when it's God's will. To take this more personally, if I'm called to write, I can better accept the numerous rejections.) Or we say, "It's God will that I move to Hawaii" or leave such-and-such ministry/job/relationship. Let me also say here that this doesn't necessarily negate the legitimacy of moving to Hawaii or leaving a certain ministry/job/relationship. But who can argue our decision when it's God's will?

But that's not why I'm here today. I've blogged about calling before and about wisdom here, here, here, and here (the series back at the Tapestry blog). Today, I want to externally process some thoughts about balancing ideas of God's calling, human responsibility, and God's divine intervention. By externally process, I mean, please addend your thoughts. (Note, at this point in time, I won't reference the verses from which I glean my thoughts, but I'd be happy to in the comments if someone has questions. Also, some of these may overlap, but I included them for the nuances.) With that in mind . . .

We act

• in God's grace
• in prayer
• with wisdom
• in service to God
• for his glory
• with love for our neighbor
• in freedom
• as his image bearers
• creatively
• in accordance to God's desires for the world and humanity as revealed in Scripture
• doing the good works God has prepared for us
• with the gifts, talents and resources he's given us
• with responsibility to our fellow man and to the earth
• despite and in our circumstances
• as we are transformed and becoming more like Christ (and seeking to have the mind of Christ)
• trusting God to use everything for our good and to his purpose
• displaying the fruit of the Spirit
• with faith, hope and love
• in the power of the Holy Spirit, depending on him
• and knowing we can't control the outcome but trusting that God's will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Most of you know the story: Carl and Ellie dreamed of going to Paradise Lost in South America. They wanted a house at the top of the waterfall. But life doesn't always happen as we expect or hope. Decades later, after Ellie's death, Carl vows to fulfill the promise he made her as kids: He's taking their house to Paradise Lost.

But a stowaway Wilderness Scout brings Carl an unexpected adventure.

This movie with its simple story is one of the best I've seen since WALL-E. Of course it is. It's Pixar. If Pixar took over the world, it might be a better place. With Pixar, we can expect greatness.

I didn't expect, though, to cry so early on in the film. Oh, I expected to cry. I bawled in WALL-E. Pixar has mastered emotional attachment to cartoon characters.

The colors and attention to detail make this movie visually beautiful. Chris and I saw the 3D version, which I recommend. We don't often go to the movies anymore, and to shell out the extra $3 per ticket we had to take the hammer to the piggy bank, but it was worth it. Plus, Chris took home his 3D glasses, so he now has an extra coolness factor for that $3. Let me tell you, he looks sexy in those glasses.

Several of the themes in the movie echoed a theology we as Christians can affirm. 

1. Embrace the adventure, even if it means giving up your dreams. We see this theme in Ellie's life. Life keeps them from their dream, but she never grows bitter. She dances every moment of her life and sees every opportunity as part of the adventure. We also see this in Carl's journey. He has a choice to make: fulfill his dream and vow to Ellie to get their house to Paradise Lost or to embrace the new adventure to help a hunted exotic bird.
   We grow up with ideals of the American Dream, which usually means something bigger and better. Having and working toward goals is good, but how often do we use it as an excuse to neglect those who need us? And how often does the elusive American Dream keep us from enjoying what we have now (a virtue known as contentment). Interestingly enough, Chris and I have some choices to make now that reflect that, although not as drastically as Carl's choices. We have a dream in life we've been working toward. Do we continue pursuing it? Or do we take the new opportunities on the journey?
2. We need the elderly. Yes, they need us, but even more, we need them. We need them involved in our lives and in the lives of our children.
   Side note: I don't talk politics often on my blog, but I'd like to note that I find the timing of this message interesting with the new healthcare "reform." This "reform" will most likely affect the elderly first and most. In Europe, which uses the healthcare we're working toward, often, the powers that be deny the elderly because when "prioritizing," it's more important to get care to the younger and stronger.
   This is a sanctity of life issue. The elderly are no less valuable than you or I.
   Okay, enough of that soap box.
3. I had a third point, but after that last speech, I've forgotten it. Oops.

Pixar has once again made a great film that combines good storytelling, beautiful animation that takes Bugs Bunny to a whole new artform, entertainment, and themes that make us think.

Psst--If you find this post interesting and think others might as well, would you mind taking a minute to stumble it? It would mean a lot to me.

After Logan's painful, almost fatal surgery (the good thing about a prequel is you know Wolverine doesn't die!), he runs naked into a barn while the farmowners, driving up to their home, look on. Featured prominently on the back of their truck is a bumper sticker: "Not all who wander are lost."

This Tolkien quote does two things.

Sandra Glahn is the author of fiction (including a Christy-nominated book), nonfiction, and Bible studies. She's editor of the award-winning magazine, Kindred Spirit, and adjunct professor at Dallas Theological Seminary.

In this podcast, we talk about how her writing affects her theology.

The podcast is approximately 4:45 minutes.

This is the final installment of my interview with Dr. Reg Grant, professor at Dallas Theological Seminary, actor, author, and tap dancer. In this podcast, we talk about the artist, depression, and the pursuit of joy.