Every year I enjoy receiving Christmas greetings in the mail, but this year an atheist friend sent me something new: an Anti-Christmas card in which he gave us felicitations of the winter solstice, inviting us to join our pre-Christian forebears in celebrating its prospects. He takes a Nietzschean view of Christianity: it is a myth in which the spiritually and mentally weak take refuge, a platform from which to make cowardly and self-righteous assaults on those who have the courage to deny the truth of these fairy-stories and live in a demystified reality.
I am sympathetic to his charges, since I find them true from a perspective I understand, and do not find unreasonable, but have chosen not to adopt because I do not myself wish to be judged on my worst points. It is by no means difficult, however, to find representatives of Christianity against whom they are perfectly plausible. If someone concentrates his sight on these, defining the faith by its worst professors--who loom exceedingly large in the view of many through no fault of their own--then it is indeed every bad thing that so many wounded freethinkers accuse it of being.
I rarely find these people unlovely--in fact, the contrary has usually been true. Many of them seem full of love, not only for people, but for God’s other handiwork--and they are lovers of truth so far as they are able to perceive it as unconnected to orthodox religion. Are they really atheists? God knows, but I am not willing to affirm it. What does one say of someone whose encounters with professing Christians and their churches have left him cold or hostile, but who rejoices in justice, truth, goodness, and beauty so far as his prejudices allow him to perceive it?
St. Augustine said he would never have believed the gospel if the authority of the catholic Church had not influenced him to do so, but for many this authority has been obscured, the power, glory, beauty, and authority of the Church having been eclipsed by the flocks of mendicants, hucksters, and holy shows in its outer courts. Becoming atheists to their gospels is a necessary step to finding one’s way to God. While we cannot deny the fool the privilege of saying “No God” in his heart, the atheist as we can know him may not be a fool; indeed, we who profess Christ need to be especially careful that we do not become fools ourselves in our profession to know God, inclined as we are to make him over after our own images and worship what is in fact an idol.
For me the authority of the catholic Church has only been discoverable behind the churches. What has made it discoverable is my love of, and strong desire to play a part in, the Great Story from which all stories worth hearing come, of which I have written elsewhere. The Church is the Beautiful Princess whom the Handsome Prince went through death and fire to win. This story is not told only by the Bible--although that is the authoritative version which gives the central detail--but in variation (and sometimes only in part) by all the storytellers whose stories simple people such as I want to hear. The Prince returns to Ithaca, or Minas Tirith, or Hogwarts, or heaven, ruining his enemies and claiming his bride. This is the only story I want, and, like a little child on Mother’s knee, insist absolutely it be told right--with no “creative” work on the part of the storyteller, whose sole task is to pass it down accurately and uncorrupted.
Now, there are certain requirements involved in being a Christian which are obnoxious to us worldly people naturally inclined to sin. But I hardly see how one could desire to do what is necessary to know Christ without loving him first (even when his name is not known), as the object of what Lewis called Sweet Desire--a mysterious and overwhelming longing, rooted in the Self by Grace, that goes far beyond and is far deeper than fear or respect or religious devotion or even much that is regarded as love. It is much more like strong sexual desire, its loss what is felt, and meant to be felt, at the end of every carnal exultation. It is what is found when a special gift of God allows us to consider, even for a brief moment, what our hearts desire--of what the place will be like where we want our pilgrimage to end. We cannot summon this of our own will; it comes as when a chime awakens the vision of “a far green country under a swift sunrise,” which then quickly recedes--and so it should, for it is not of this world, but a visitation from another.
There are “church” formulations of this understanding which are absolutely and formally correct: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever” is one of the best. These generally leave me as cold as they do my atheist (or angry heretic) friends. But I have no problem whatever seeing the Lord Jesus Christ as the handsome Prince, the Church as his Bride, and wishing myself to be among his friends. For me, as well as perhaps for them, he needs translating out of church language before he can be translated back in, but once the translation has been made, then one can see it was the ancient voice of Mother Kirk in all her hidden glory that was speaking to us all along--yes, even in Homer.
I am sympathetic to his charges, since I find them true from a perspective I understand, and do not find unreasonable, but have chosen not to adopt because I do not myself wish to be judged on my worst points. It is by no means difficult, however, to find representatives of Christianity against whom they are perfectly plausible. If someone concentrates his sight on these, defining the faith by its worst professors--who loom exceedingly large in the view of many through no fault of their own--then it is indeed every bad thing that so many wounded freethinkers accuse it of being.
I rarely find these people unlovely--in fact, the contrary has usually been true. Many of them seem full of love, not only for people, but for God’s other handiwork--and they are lovers of truth so far as they are able to perceive it as unconnected to orthodox religion. Are they really atheists? God knows, but I am not willing to affirm it. What does one say of someone whose encounters with professing Christians and their churches have left him cold or hostile, but who rejoices in justice, truth, goodness, and beauty so far as his prejudices allow him to perceive it?
St. Augustine said he would never have believed the gospel if the authority of the catholic Church had not influenced him to do so, but for many this authority has been obscured, the power, glory, beauty, and authority of the Church having been eclipsed by the flocks of mendicants, hucksters, and holy shows in its outer courts. Becoming atheists to their gospels is a necessary step to finding one’s way to God. While we cannot deny the fool the privilege of saying “No God” in his heart, the atheist as we can know him may not be a fool; indeed, we who profess Christ need to be especially careful that we do not become fools ourselves in our profession to know God, inclined as we are to make him over after our own images and worship what is in fact an idol.
For me the authority of the catholic Church has only been discoverable behind the churches. What has made it discoverable is my love of, and strong desire to play a part in, the Great Story from which all stories worth hearing come, of which I have written elsewhere. The Church is the Beautiful Princess whom the Handsome Prince went through death and fire to win. This story is not told only by the Bible--although that is the authoritative version which gives the central detail--but in variation (and sometimes only in part) by all the storytellers whose stories simple people such as I want to hear. The Prince returns to Ithaca, or Minas Tirith, or Hogwarts, or heaven, ruining his enemies and claiming his bride. This is the only story I want, and, like a little child on Mother’s knee, insist absolutely it be told right--with no “creative” work on the part of the storyteller, whose sole task is to pass it down accurately and uncorrupted.
Now, there are certain requirements involved in being a Christian which are obnoxious to us worldly people naturally inclined to sin. But I hardly see how one could desire to do what is necessary to know Christ without loving him first (even when his name is not known), as the object of what Lewis called Sweet Desire--a mysterious and overwhelming longing, rooted in the Self by Grace, that goes far beyond and is far deeper than fear or respect or religious devotion or even much that is regarded as love. It is much more like strong sexual desire, its loss what is felt, and meant to be felt, at the end of every carnal exultation. It is what is found when a special gift of God allows us to consider, even for a brief moment, what our hearts desire--of what the place will be like where we want our pilgrimage to end. We cannot summon this of our own will; it comes as when a chime awakens the vision of “a far green country under a swift sunrise,” which then quickly recedes--and so it should, for it is not of this world, but a visitation from another.
There are “church” formulations of this understanding which are absolutely and formally correct: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever” is one of the best. These generally leave me as cold as they do my atheist (or angry heretic) friends. But I have no problem whatever seeing the Lord Jesus Christ as the handsome Prince, the Church as his Bride, and wishing myself to be among his friends. For me, as well as perhaps for them, he needs translating out of church language before he can be translated back in, but once the translation has been made, then one can see it was the ancient voice of Mother Kirk in all her hidden glory that was speaking to us all along--yes, even in Homer.
Thank you for this eloquent and excellent post, Steve. Of course, I make my living by story, and I always love to hear someone else's apology for the importance of what I do. It is always my prayer, in every class I teach, that my students will find some Beauty they had not yet seen or understood, be surprised by Joy, come closer to seeing the One who has made it all and left us sparks of Love to draw us ever toward Him.
Posted by: Beth from TN | December 18, 2009 at 04:40 PM
As one of those perpetual religious fence-sitters, I appreciate the sympathetic and understanding tone of this post.
By the way, many of us "outsiders" do find beauty in elements of the Christian religion: the call to self-sacrifice, the hope for divine union and eternal life, the liturgies of the high church traditions and the refined sense of ethics of many of the Christian philosophers and theologians.
Unfortunately, it's hard to hang on to these: religious faith too often seems to manifest itself in a vitriolic self-righteousness that seems to gain a certain satisfaction out of the idea of the punishment and destruction of those outside one's religious group or clique. Cynicism towards even other sincere and dedicated Christians is portrayed as "discernment" (much like the criticism leveled against Mother Teresa because of her occasionally dark and doubt-filled spiritual journey).
Perhaps things are improving, though: I do recall hearing my parents say it would have been unthinkable at one point in the last few decades for a Baptist to marry a Catholic, so who knows ...
Posted by: John FB | December 18, 2009 at 07:01 PM
This is absolutely beautiful and speaks well to my own experience, of atheist and questioning friends, of the Church, of the Great Story that lies behind all great stories of rescue, all of it. Thank you so much for this.
Posted by: Fr. J | December 18, 2009 at 07:40 PM
I have to disagree with the comments posted so far. I don't think Mr. Hutchens' depiction of Christians, or of atheists, for that matter, is fair or balanced. While in the third paragraph he all but exalts atheists as near-saints in the rest of the article the author essentially refers to Christians as hypocritical, self-deceiving scum. I suppose that as a Christian I'm supposed to read this article and think, "Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Hutchens, for insulting me. You're right: I really am a self-righteous huckster. Golly. If not for your saintly example, I would never have found my way." No, I'm quite insulted, but I'm also impressed by the author's breathless eagerness to sweepingly disparage every one of his brothers and sisters in Christ. I'm sorry that you're so ashamed of us, Mr. Hutchens. It's quite clear that you're attempting to separate yourself from us in the eyes of your atheist friends, standing apart, as it were, from the crowd and saying to atheists, "I know - aren't these Christians awful? Well, I'm a Christian myself, but I'm not anything like *them.*"
Frankly, I think your post is a failure in justice to the Christian community, and as such it warrants an apology. You're right: we are imperfect. We are full of flaws, each one of us. We hurt each other as well as those who do not share our beliefs. You're also correct in saying that we must always strive to maintain a clear vision of Christ, insofar as we are capable of doing so. But your post is, quite frankly, nasty and mean, and the view you take of Christians is as commonplace as it is frustrating and undeserved. We are a group comprised chiefly of ordinary, decent, sincere people who are striving to achieve union with Christ. We never became Christians because we thought we were better than anybody else, and we remain Christians because we know we need the love of Christ. I can't recall having met a Christian who could not be described in these terms. I have not met a Christian such as you're describing. If I did, I would not think him a representative of the community as a whole. Thus your remarks about us appear to me uncharitable, unjustified, and frankly, breathtakingly arrogant.
The final thing I want to say, Mr. Hutchens, is this: who on earth are you to describe your brothers and sisters as mendicants and hucksters? Really, now! I myself accept without hesitation your point that it is the authority of the Church that is ultimately attractive, and not the Christians trying to follow said authority. However, I'd like to propose that if the rest of are hucksters and mendicants, then you're probably a huckster and a mendicant yourself, a beggar before God like the rest of us. Oh, I'm sorry; I guess I'm being my typically showy, self-righteous self again. Wait a minute - aren't I simply saying about you what you said about me? Oh, that's right. Never mind.
Your article made two or three good points, but along the way you stabbed your fellow Christian in the back. Well done, brother! You've done a fine job deriding, demeaning, and misrepresenting the faithful. No, you could have made your points without insulting us. Again, I believe you owe us an apology.
Posted by: David Casson | December 19, 2009 at 01:24 AM
"It is by no means difficult, however, to find representatives of Christianity against whom they are perfectly plausible. If someone concentrates his sight on these, defining the faith by its worst professors--who loom exceedingly large in the view of many through no fault of their own--then it is indeed every bad thing that so many wounded freethinkers accuse it of being."
I'm not sure what post you read, Mr. Casson, but it is not helpful to overreact to criticism of believers. As the sentences I quote clearly convey, Dr. Hutchens is merely saying that the person who wishes to concentrate on those who profess Christ and do not live His life well can of course find many examples to confirm his prejudices. This is hardly an indictment of every single believer as utterly base.
Posted by: Beth from TN | December 19, 2009 at 08:24 AM
I read this article as an admonition against personal atheism, in contrast to nominal atheism. As we deck our halls this year, are we preparing for our Handsome Prince's arrival, or are we bedecking ourselves in an annual ritual of mindless and heartless heresy, both corporate and personal? I suggest that Mr. Hutchens has, in few words, illuminated this transcendence.
He invites this transcendence by underscoring the confusio linguarum inherent in the narrative of the outer courts of the Church. He further invites us to throw the dying coals of our Sweet Desire into the bed of embers behind the church, to warm our collective, prenuptial cold feet.
Posted by: Peter J. O'Leary | December 19, 2009 at 09:59 AM
For an atheist to send an anti-Christian card is shockingly rude. I suppose his Jewish friends get an anti-Hannukah card. To twist someone's holiday in this way is smarmy and uncivil, the opposite, come to think of it, of "coexist."
Posted by: Margaret | December 19, 2009 at 11:51 AM
Smarmy, uncivil? Perhaps. I'm guilty of both these, and lots worse.
Still, would we have gotten this wonderful lesson from Mr. Hutchens sans card?
That card got me into the Christmas spirit just a little more. That, and the little dusting of snow in Chicago this morning.
Posted by: Peter J. O'Leary | December 19, 2009 at 12:51 PM
Mr. Casson, we have apparently have very different impressions of how much evil is done in Christ's name by people who style themselves orthodox Christians--and how much they harm others through their false doctrines and practices. Intimate exposure them through the course of my life has made me sympathetic to people who become atheists in reaction--or, if you wish, whose natural tendency to atheism (which we all have) is driven forward by their experience of this kind of "Christian." It should be obvious that I am not talking about believers who are acting as Christians should. Why you should wish to take what I have said here as a global statement about Christians I cannot imagine.
Sending this card shockingly rude? Yes, to be sure. This friend has always found getting a rise out of Christians entertaining, and he's good at it. But he knows there are several of us who are on to him. We watch him as he takes stray animals and people into his house and cares for them--he is a very tender-hearted man--and carries on his feud with God at his own Peniel. We hear him as he tries to hide his love in his hatreds. It seems best in this situation that we not allow him to upset us, even though we would be within our rights in doing so.
Posted by: smh | December 19, 2009 at 03:16 PM
There are “church” formulations of this understanding which are absolutely and formally correct: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever” is one of the best. These generally leave me as cold as they do my atheist (or angry heretic) friends.
I understand this sentiment. There are truths that take some getting used to, that need certain experiences in order to see the beauty and power of them. Those who have never really loved with passion may look at the marriage vows as some kind of straightjacket depriving the "doomed" couple of freedom and the pleasure that comes with that "freedom". They don't yet understand how exquisite is the joy of such slavery to vows made for love, to being bound to another in body and soul and to no longer being one's own person. Few immature lovers truly understand this. They are usually blessed to have their passions to hold them together until they begin to understand. I think the joy of worshipping God for his own sake is something we begin to learn after we have fallen in love with him through the greatest story ever told, the story that is behind all human desires and all human history.
I remember Chesterton saying that the problem with atheists isn't that they don't believe in God, it is because they believe too much. This is why they are often angry and so hateful toward God and his faithful. There is a fine line between love and hate. The true atheist are those who those who just don't care. To them God isn't worth opposing or worshipping. They believe in little beside themselves, They are the ones who may say they believe but in their heart, where there treasure lies, they show what their true beliefs are.
Many atheists, like I used to be, can't ever be apathetic to God. They strive against him because what they see seems unworthy of him. They need to see proof that he exists despite the evil in the world and the faithlessness of his followers. They need to begin to understand the nature of Grace.
Posted by: Christopher Hathaway | December 19, 2009 at 08:30 PM
Good analogy and good observation. I believe there is no such thing as ignorance of God or neutrality toward him: the two, and only two, possible destinies of every moral intelligence indicate the impossibility of this. It also means everyone has a personal history with God which ends in ultimate acceptance or ultimate rejection.
Professing atheists are almost always people who are angry with him, for the many reasons that a child might be angry with its father, and one of the most effective ways they think it possible to punish him is by claiming disbelief in his existence. But the scriptural advice to them is that they had better agree with their adversary while they are in the way: they will never be successful in their disbelief. If they make their beds in hell, he is there. Only belief, and submission, will "work."
Posted by: smh | December 20, 2009 at 03:01 PM
Christopher writes: "Many atheists, like I used to be, can't ever be apathetic to God. They strive against him because what they see seems unworthy of him."
Is there anything that could be done by God that would make you say "This is a Being whom I cannot or will not worship"?
In other words, is there anything that could be done or that could occur that is so heinous and so cruel that you would feel forced to reject God as either not existing or, if He exists, to conclude that He is (at least from the vantage point of the human race) malevolent?
Personally, the notion that God creates much of humanity purely so that they can serve as "vessels of wrath" (an ugly and revolting phrase if ever there was one) and objects of His eternal anger even as they remain unable to choose some alternate mode of being or spiritual condition for themselves seems, well, pretty malevolent. Of course, predestination and religious determinism are only partially embraced by the Christian community, but it surely must be one of the strongest cases for actively rejecting the worship of a Creator among thinking people.
Posted by: John FB | December 20, 2009 at 06:11 PM
Is there anything that could be done by God that would make you say "This is a Being whom I cannot or will not worship"?
That is a good question, and I hope you don't think my answer is some kind of evasion.
Since I am made by God to worship Him, anything I find truly abhorent and cruel, such that my spirit refuses to worship one who does this, I conclude is something that God cannot by His very nature do. That is, if God behaved like the Devil, or like us when we behave sinfully, then I could not worship him. But God cannot do these things. Thus I cannot truly hate anything He does when I see it truly.
Now the limitations of our knowledge or of our sin often clouds our vision of God. It is only misunderstanding on our part that makes us think His actions are anything like what we hate in ourselves. The notion that God creates some men merely so He can punish them I attribute to such a limitation. My brain is too small to understand the nature of the universe, let alone the nature of a God who creates free will. Is light a particle or a wave? Are we free or is God sovereignly in control? Yes. That is as far as I can get.
I know God is good because He makes me love goodness even when I am not good. This is not creating Him in my own image, but it is understanding Him through the image of Him that He has created in me.
If what you see of God is hateful, look deeper.
Posted by: Christopher Hathaway | December 20, 2009 at 07:38 PM
In case my remarks are misunderstood or unclear, I did not mean to imply that I see Scriptural statements about God as being incorrect but that the nature of or limted createdness makes any understanding we have of and from God to be limited. We can only see two dimensions of God's three dimensionality, and so Scripture can only give us more perfect two dimensional understandings whose limitations are themselves made more perfect by the multiple perspectives given. We see from the left side and right side, the front and back, top and bottom. All are true, truer than our blurry vision, but none are comprehensive.
Posted by: Christopher Hathaway | December 20, 2009 at 08:07 PM
John FB, you seem to have a particular animus towards Calvinist Christianity. Don't make the mistake of ascribing Reformed tenets to Christianity as a whole. Not all of us here are sympathetic to that specific theology. As an Orthodox I have huge problems with it; this site is not the forum for airing them, however.
Posted by: Rob G | December 20, 2009 at 08:08 PM
Both are there; both must be accepted: predestinate creation of vessels of wrath--as well as the love of God for all and a universal atonement provided by the will of God that none should perish. One goes off the track by denying either, or by using one to efface the other. Both seem completely consonant with the person and character of Almighty God (how can he fail but to predestine? how can he, loving the world, fail but to offer his salvation to all?), who does not excuse those who spurn his gift, that is, who show themselves for what they are, complaining that he is a hard man who arbitrarily selects some for wrath, and who use this as an excuse to reject his mercy. To those who have of their own will chosen to regard him in that way, he is what they have made him out to be. What excuse do those have who, offered salvation and given the ability to receive it, do not, because they prefer to accuse God of being unjust and unmerciful? In the end they are confirmed in their opinion about him. Good becomes their evil, evil their good, and so they agree with their predestination.
Posted by: smh | December 20, 2009 at 08:13 PM
"If what you see of God is hateful, look deeper."
Actually, Christianity is much grittier than most people surmise. Jesus Himself reinforced the divide between those who desire truth and those who do not. "For whoever has, to him more will be given, and he will have abundance; but whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken away from him. Therefore I speak to them in parables...lest they should understand with their hearts and turn, so that I should heal them." (Matthew 13:12-15)
Then there was the deliberate thinning out of His followers with these words, "Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you." (John 6:53)
Repentance is a gift (II Timothy 2:25), as is the love of the truth (II Thessalonians 2:10). God does not owe us anything. His gifts, while unfathomably abundant, are only received through an awareness of our full destitution.
Posted by: Diane | December 20, 2009 at 09:50 PM
But John FB, I daresay I need to even more vehemantly endorse David Hart's "Doors of the Sea" to you, given your antipathy toward Calvinism. Hart could hardly be more scathing toward Calvinism in the book, and it's one of the better things on the problem of evil I've read.
Posted by: Wonders for Oyarsa | December 20, 2009 at 10:25 PM
Wonders, I shall pick that up this week. Thanks for the reference.
SMH: Karl Barth (a very respected - if controversial - conservative Protestant theologian) has a slightly different take on it. From Wikipedia (although, from having read his book on Romans, it's a bit oversimplified):
"Barth's doctrine of election involves a firm rejection of the notion of an eternal, hidden decree. In keeping with his Christo-centric methodology, Barth argues that to ascribe the salvation or damnation of humanity to an abstract absolute decree is to make some part of God more final and definitive than God's saving act in Jesus Christ. God's absolute decree, if one may speak of such a thing, is God's gracious decision to be for humanity in the person of Jesus Christ. Drawing from the earlier Reformed tradition, Barth retains the notion of double predestination but makes Jesus Himself the object of both divine election and reprobation simultaneously; Jesus embodies both God's election of humanity and God's rejection of human sin."
Posted by: John FB | December 21, 2009 at 06:38 AM
>John FB, you seem to have a particular animus towards Calvinist Christianity. Don't make the mistake of ascribing Reformed tenets to Christianity as a whole. Not all of us here are sympathetic to that specific theology.
People reject the truth for a variety of reasons.
Posted by: Bananas Gorilla | December 21, 2009 at 07:25 AM
I hope everyone will continue to follow the ground rules. "Respect the ecumenical character of this site." If you start fighting about Calvinism, the moderator will end comments for this thread.
Dr. Hutchens's original post and many of the comments have been very edifying for me. Please, keep sharing your wisdom and insight!
Christmas blessings to all - to those of you who have found peace in the arms of our triune God, and to those who are still wrestling with him. Especially to you who are still wresting with him.
Posted by: Stonechurch | December 21, 2009 at 08:41 AM
>>Unfortunately, it's hard to hang on to these: religious faith too often seems to manifest itself in a vitriolic self-righteousness that seems to gain a certain satisfaction out of the idea of the punishment and destruction of those outside one's religious group or clique. <<
I second John FB's words above and, with him, appreciate the charitable nature of SMH's post.
It is all too common on certain supposedly Christian blogs (sadly, this one too on occasions) to heap scorn, derision, and even hatred on "outsiders" -- feminists, gays, liberals, atheists, agnostics, and even those scientifically inclined people who may believe in evolution or global warming, or who hold certain opinions about the age of the universe! Litmus tests to acceptance often seem more political and prejudiced than Christ-inspired. I've seen honest and well-intentioned people hounded and insulted by so-called Christians. The "You too can be like me!" brigade don't help either.
Not all Christians are smug or raging bundles of hatred or judgmentalism, but let's face it -- those who are scare away too many potential Christians.
Posted by: Matt | December 21, 2009 at 09:32 AM
Hear, hear. The gentle Dr. Hutchens successfully and artfully smuggled the Gospel past some of my personal dragons. While interesting to see how the Word might be tangentially deflected, I'm more interested in seeing the Touchstone editors keep things on track. And continue smuggling.
Posted by: Peter J. O'Leary | December 21, 2009 at 12:19 PM
One of the first areas Christ dealt with me personally was in the notion that I should reject Him because of the failings of his followers. The call to the unbeliever is to repent and believe, and take up the cross and follow *Him,* not to look around at what the other sheep are doing, not to sit in judgment of everyone else. God knows I have plenty of sin in my own backyard to keep me plenty busy for as long as He lends me breath and, were my heart set upon the perfection of Christ, working out my salvation with fear and trembling, I doubt I'd have much time to waste worrying over the sin of other believers, far and near. If others are sinners, too, then I humbly join them in daring to call myself a Christian. The Christian standard is the perfection of Christ, and we all stand in need of his saving blood, the hypocrite, the self-righteous, the jealous, the gossip, the drunkard, the adulterer, the liar, the judgmental, and the white washed sepulchre whose sin is deeply hidden in the heart.
Bottom line, over-focus on the sins of others is a sophomoric distraction from an appropriate focus on the sins of self.
Posted by: A Mere Lurker | December 21, 2009 at 04:08 PM
I think the cited passage on Barth's understanding of predestination is accurate, and that Barth is best read on this subject with G. C. Berkouwer's The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth. In an extended note in Church Dogmatics, Barth notes the cogency of Berkouwer's criticism, but holds his ground for Christological reasons. On one hand he understands he cannot teach universal salvation, but on the other regards the grace of God in Christ toward sinners of such a character that he cannot see how the apokatastasis panton can fail to be fully and exactly that. Other Christian thinkers (lately R. J. Neuhaus in Death on a Sunday Afternoon) have encountered the same dilemma. They are wise--as Berkouwer points out and Barth and Neuhaus agree--while saying what they cannot help but think, not to impose on scripture in such matters.
Let me not be misunderstood, Matt: Atheism is a contemptible lie and all who, being confronted with the Truth, persist in it, are fools in the biblical sense, that is to say, are damned, as is the case with those who cling to any error. "How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?"
Observing that people other than the atheist, some of whom profess Christianity, may be heavily implicated in the atheist's sin is no great kindness on my part, only acknowledgment of the obvious. But even if it were one should not cherish the hope that I or my fellow Touchstone editors will ever think it uncharitable to attack sin and error. On the contrary, that we believe them separable from the sinner and errorist is a mark of our belief in the God who only can do it in ourselves and others, of hope that the sinner subject to our ministrations has not yet become his sin, so that he may yet be saved.
It is typical of the "liberal" to leave the errorist (unless his error is orthodox Christianity) alone with his error, content that he be defined by it, content that his soul be lost--an act of deep hatred the liberal defines as "love:" let the feminist, homosexual, and atheist remain as they are. Don't try to save them, for what you are trying to save them with is your own damned opinions.
Make no mistake, we are not interested in that kind of charity, and fully intend to remain as offensive as we possibly can to those who think we ought to be.
Posted by: smh | December 25, 2009 at 07:54 AM