Concepts of God

Theologian Paul Helm (about whom I know little) has a rather lengthly article on his blog on "The Classical Calvinist Doctrine of God". This is a scholarly and well-constructed discussion of some of the major views of God, with specific emphasis on His foreknowledge and predestination, throughout Church history. He begins with the Calvinist view of God, which is in truth the view outlined by the "'A' team"--Augustine, Anslem, and Aquinas. He compares this view with Scripture and very effectively demonstrates that they are congruent. He then compares three other views with the first one--the Arminian view, the Open Theistic view, and the Modified Calvinistic view. Helm eruditely discusses each view, and its conflict with Scripture. He concludes with some very germane comments on philosophy and understanding.
This is a challenging article. It deals with some difficult Theological concepts. Yet, these concepts are very important. One might say these are the central concepts in a Theological belief system. It is well worth the time of any Christian to ponder these thoughts. We may not come to a conclusion, but we can surely come to a deeper understand than what we once had. Too many Christians are too ignorant regarding these discussions. Most are content to accept what their pastors tell them. Many pastors I have known are not to enthusiastic about tackling such "controversial" topics. They will try to explain it away with a simple analogy. One pastor describes man's free will and God's sovereignty as being like the rails of railroad tracks. Close to us they look like two tracks, but as we gaze into the distance they appear to merge into one. This doesn't explain the relationship between them at all. This doesn't come close to a logical, Scripture explanation at all. Many pastors will state that God is sovereign and we have a free will, they do not conflict, and that is the way it is. Again, no logical, Scriptural explanation.
I doubt that these pastors are too lazy or unintelligent to tack on such a task. I would say that they are afraid. They are afraid of where these concepts will lead. They may lead into a very frightful abyss. Helm explains in his conclusion that we may not be able to follow these concepts to their end.

"We have some understanding of what predestination is, but we lack the sort of knowledge that would free us from all the difficulties that it presents to our minds—difficulties about fairness, or about the way in which the divine decree meshes with human freedom, or about the manner in which God's choice is grounded. These matters are at least presently beyond our full grasp, but they are not completely ungraspable.
We should expect mystery, but it is 'targeted' mystery. We can identify the mystery, and say why it is so. In the noble tradition of ‘faith seeking understanding’ we should do what we can to understand the mystery insofar as we have warrant to do so in Scripture, but not at the expense of what Scripture actually teaches."

This is a tremendous paradigm. Not being able to find the end of a thread of thought is no reason not to seek the beginning. We should take the ideas giving to us in Scripture, and, by His Grace, seek them as far as they will take us. The Truth, no matter how difficult or mysterious, will set us free.
Note that I have spoken about the article rather than commenting on the article. I am far from qualified. Helm brought up many theological terms and concepts with which I am not familiar. Sad to say I have studied theology very little. One aspect of the article I found interesting was his assertion that, when we look at God's sovereignty and man's free will, we must make one unmovable. That is, when we develop our position, we must either make God's sovereignty the unmovable post about which man's free wheel pivots, or vice versa. His opinion is that the Scripture clearly states that God is sovereign. He predestinates us according to His will, not according to His foreknowledge of our faith or good works. In a sense, our will is according to His will. This is one of those concepts that can be very frightening. Does that mean that we really don't have a free will? Does that mean that God wills sin? I have not the answer to that.

On communication

Kierkegaard says:

"The person who can think this thought along with everything else he otherwise thinks does indeed think most naturally, and the person who does not need to be changed so as to be able to think it and does not need the thought to be changed so that he can think it does indeed think most naturally, because he find in this thought the equivalent in childlikeness, which makes play the best."

In this discourse he is discussing Solomon's invocation to "Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth." Kierkegaard goes on to say, "In this way those words of the Preacher are already a demonstration that this thought must be the most natural in youth."
I found the first statement to be intriguing, and worth pondering. If I understand my teacher, he is saying that, many times, we change our thinking to accommodate a thought, or we change the thought to accommodate our thinking. To naturally understand a thought is to understand that thought an sich, without our adding to or taking away from it. It seems to me that we rarely "naturally" think thoughts that come from others. We tend to be very narcissistic people in this present era. I believe we have a real problem with communication in the present era, and I think that Kierkegaard's statement accurately describes the source of the problem.
I have asked myself on more than one occasion: Is honest, sincere, earnest communication between two human beings possible? How much can one person actually communicate to another person? So much of what we say each day is merely noise. Many times I wonder why I say the things that I say, for they have no meaning or relevance. In another book, Kierkegaard notes:

"[Talleyrand] (and [Edward] Young before him expressed) discovered and expressed, although not as fully as empty talk does, that the purpose of language is to conceal thought--namely, to conceal that one has none."

Communication is the transfer of one person's thoughts to another person. Communication, as most know already, is far more than mere words. So often we talk because we would rather not be silent. So often we speak words we assume the other person wants to hear. So often we say whatever we can rather than say what we really think. Harold Bloom comments on Shakespeare's characters that they "overhear" themselves as they speak, for they are "gorgeous solipsists". It seems that this is true of many us as well. So often we speak because we like to hear what we have to say. So often we are waiting to speak rather than listening to what the other person is saying. How often are you more focused on your next comment rather than the other person's current comment? I know that I am saying "we" frequently, and may only be speaking of "me," but I will assume that what is true of one is true of everyone.
Is communication more about hearing accurately what the other person is saying, or about accurately conveying our thoughts? Most will say that communication is about both. I do not know if one is more important than the other. It may be, though, that the reason we cannot understand others is that we cannot understand ourselves. We see ourselves the way we choose to see ourselves, and lucky are we if this is the way others see us. We see others according to the way we see ourselves. Earlier, I said that I will assume that what is true of one is true of everyone. Though we may not formally state it, most all of us think this. The problem arises when we do not see ourselves accurately. Socrates is right when he invokes us to "Know thyself." We can forget about understanding ourselves if we do not understand ourselves.
Communication involves a great deal of trust. Is it possible to completely trust another human being? How much of a role does trust play in communication? Communication is an opening and exposing of our inner selves to others. For many people, this can be quite disconcerting. Many people keep a tight grip on their inner person. Many people have been manipulated and offended by others, and so are unwilling to place themselves in a situation where that can happen again. Many people have manipulated and offended others, and assume that, if they did it, then others might do it to them. Again, what is true of one is true of everyone. Trust, in the Biblical sense, involves subjection. Paul commands us to be "subject, one to another." We are egotists and do not want anyone else controlling us or dominating us. We desperately want to be autonomous. In an age where individuality is the highest virtue, we are giving away a great part of ourselves when we lend control to another human being. Thus, we remain guarded in our communication.
There is another question, the answer to which I don't have readily available: What does the Bible say about communication? I am sure that It says much about it, though I cannot recall exactly what it says. I do not think it is possible for man to truly communicate with each other outside of the Love of God. I do not think it is possible for mankind to truly love each other outside of the Love of God. I need to study the Word and find from Wisdom's source the true meaning of communication, and the true means of communication. Maybe we all need to do that.

The problem of pain

Forbidden Games is a French film made in 1952. It is one of the more poignant war films I have ever seen. The main character is a 5 year old French girl named Paulette. Her parents and dog are killed right before her eyes as they attempt the flee the Nazis. She doesn't understand anything about death, and clings tenderly to her dog. Another lady sees that the dog is dead and throws it into a river. Paulette runs after the dog. In doing so she runs into a young boy named Michel. Michel convinces his family, that live on a small farm, to take her in. He does what he can to teach Paulette about death and burial. He helps her bury the dead dog in a makeshift cemetery. They start burying all kinds of other animals they find, in order so that the dog is not lonely. Being a good Catholic boy, Michel knows that the graves need crosses, so he steals some from the local human cemetery. This causes much dismay in Michel's household. Eventually, Paulette is sent to the Red Cross.
This is a touching film. I think the girl reminded me of my daughter, so it held me quite intensely. This film makes some interesting statements regarding loss, and our methods of dealing with it. The family who takes in Paulette has a son that eventually dies from wounds he received being kicked by a horse. The family is a strong Catholic family, though Michel is the only one who knows his prayers and Catechisms. As the brother dies, the family asks Michel to say some prayers. He does, but he mixes several prayers together, and eventually speaks nonsense. The family doesn't notice, and are content with the fact he is saying any prayer. They soon forget about the loss and focus on the petty dispute they have with their neighbors. They blame everything that goes on, including the missing crosses, on them. At the funeral, both families each try to outdo each other in decorating the graves of their loved ones. Eventually, the two fathers get into a fight and fall into an open grave. Meanwhile, the kids are busy saying prayers and placing crosses over the graves of their animal friends. For much of the film Paulette forgets about her parents. Only at the end, when she is at the Red Cross and sees a man and woman that reminds her of them, does she remember that they are gone. She cries out for her parents and disappears into the crowd looking for them.
Religion in this film is a child's game, something that innocent children look to rather than looking at their loss. The kids are severely reprimanded for stealing the crosses for their pet cemetery. Yet, it is equally silly for the adults to have them in the human cemetery. The adults in the film are also determined to distract themselves. They focus on this silly squabble so they don't have to focus on the war and the loss of their brother. No one in the film faces reality. Yet reality is there, and reality is full of hardship and turmoil. The only thing that doesn't seem to be in the film is God. If He was there wouldn't He stop all the pain and suffering? If He was there wouldn't He do more than provide some temporary balm for the wounds of war? I may be reading too much into the film. However, I know that many people think these things about pain. They see pain as evidence that God doesn't exist. Of course, in doing so, they assume to know how an omniscient deity would act. "If God was good, why would He allow suffering?" What makes the person who says that so sure that they know what is good and what is evil? Who are they to decide that good means life without suffering? Even the famous atheist Nietzsche said, "That which doesn't kill me makes me stronger." Most will agree that good can come from suffering. So what makes them say that suffering is evil, and a good god wouldn't allow it? I find that the existence of pain and suffering to be one of the most profound moral arguments for a God. One of the greatest gifts a good God could give us is a free will, the ability to reject Him. If this God is all-powerful, and the end of all things, wouldn't it be good for us to follow Him, and bad for us to reject Him? Would a good God allow us to make wrong decisions without consequence? Would God be truly seeking our benefit if He let us do whatever we wanted with any type of punishment? From what I can see, man will do more out of fear of punishment than out of hope of reward. Most will allow that suffering results from man's evil. Is it possible to have suffering without evil, and vice versa?
Also, if God doesn't exist, then what do we do with suffering? We have no hope. We have not possible easement. Suffering and pain and loss will always be there, and there is nothing we can do about it. If this is the case, why wouldn't you chose something to distract you? Anything that relieves the burden, no matter how silly or preposterous, would be better than suffering, better than facing the reality of this dreadful world. Why should we look with disdain at those who found a way to endure this dreary life? I cannot see what an atheist hopes to attain. I cannot see how they can get any joy out of life. It what they say is true, what point is there to anything?

Be thou my good

In Shakespeare's Othello, Iago says:

Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus
or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which
our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant
nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up
thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or
distract it with many, either to have it sterile
with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the
power and corrigible authority of this lies in our
wills. If the balance of our lives had not one
scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the
blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us
to most preposterous conclusions: but we have
reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal
stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that
you call love to be a sect or scion.

At another point he says:

And what's he then that says I play the villain?
When this advice is free I give and honest,
Probal to thinking and indeed the course
To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy
The inclining Desdemona to subdue
In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful
As the free elements. And then for her
To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism,
All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,
His soul is so enfetter'd to her love,
That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
Even as her appetite shall play the god
With his weak function. How am I then a villain
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
When devils will the blackest sins put on,
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
As I do now: for whiles this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
I'll pour this pestilence into his ear,
That she repeals him for her body's lust;
And by how much she strives to do him good,
She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.

Both of these statements seem very similar to statements made by Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost:

So farwel Hope, and with Hope farwel Fear,
Farwel Remorse: all Good to me is lost;
Evil be thou my Good; by thee at least
Divided Empire with Heav'ns King I hold
By thee, and more then half perhaps will reigne;
As Man ere long, and this new World shall know.

All of these statements reveal a significant aspect of man's nature. Man spends more time excusing his faults, and defending his defects, and avoiding his guilt than he does anything else. Rare is the man that accepts his shortcomings. Rare is the man that acknowledges his faults. Rare is the man willing to stand guilty before all. We convince ourselves of our goodness. We convince ourselves that our vice is virtue. We declare our innocence, not to others, but to ourselves. We are not designed (dare I imply design?) to live with sin (dare I call anything sin?). No one wants to be guilty. No one wants to be evil. The easy path for us to take is to convince ourselves that we are good, that what we do is good. It is easy for us to look on Iago, one of the most wretched, nefarious characters in all of literature, and condemn him for his conniving, his malfeasance. It is so easy for us to judge others of their sin. Who does not do this? Those who speak of moral relativity cast judgment on those who cast judgment on others. How easy is it for us to declare the whole world guilty. And how difficult and uneasy is it for us to declare ourselves guilty before the whole world. That is not the way to proceed. Much better that we manipulate our thoughts so that all we do is good. "Evil, be thou my good," says Satan. "My evil is good," says us.

Why I love films: The Preamble

I am a cinephile. I enjoy greatly watching movies/films. I am also a Christian, a quasi-neo-Fundamentalist (I haven't yet determined exactly what that means). Are those consistent positions? Are you able to legitimately be both? According to a series of articles (Parts One, Two, and Three, so far) by a Fundamentalist named Kevin Bauder, you cannot. His notes that prominent theologians "from Tertullian to Tozer" have been adamantly opposed to the theater/cinema. Having not read all of those writers, I will have to take his word for it. He posits the idea that theater/film is unable to carry the message of Christ. He challenges his readers to "convince [him] that theater as a medium is legitimate for Christians." Apparently, his contention is that theater/cinema is not legitimate for Christians. He gives, though, very specific parameters for this debate.

If you are going to convince me, however, here is the first thing that you are going to have to do. You must show me that you have understood how theater communicates. You must know and respond to the aesthetic conversation. Once you have done that, then we will be in a position to get down to the really important considerations.

I will not attempt to completely answer his queries just yet. As I peruse some articles on Wikipedia dealing with aesthetics and art, I see that I am undeniably unqualified to meaningfully contribute to this discussion. However, I would like to make some preliminary "gut" observations.
I was not able to find in his article substantial support for his thesis. He does state that theater/cinema is primarily Dionysian as opposed to Apollonian. "Dionysian" is a term that comes from the Greek god Dionysus, or Bacchus, who is "the god of wine and of an orgiastic religion celebrating the power and fertility of nature." The terms means "of an ecstatic, orgiastic, or irrational nature; frenzied or undisciplined." Thus, theater primarily stimulates our carnal, visceral passions. "Apollonian" comes from the Greek god Apollo, "the god of prophecy, music, medicine, and poetry." The term means "characterized by clarity, harmony, and restraint." Literature, music, and poetry speak primarily to the intellect and reason. Bauder's premise seems to be that the message of Christ is primarily an intellectual one, and, thusly, one that must be carried by an intellectual medium. I would agree with this. I do not, however, agree with his position that film is an entirely unintellectual medium. He states in Part Three, "A competent director does not want his audience to think. He wants his audience to feel, and to feel at some primeval and instinctual level." This is not entirely true. Most serious directors want their audiences to think. Most serious directors want to get convey a specific message. Many directors will use emotions to get this message across, as do many preachers. Some directors will avoid these emotional/visceral tactics and aim straight at the mind. Directors such as Bergman, Fellini, Kurosawa, Tarkovsky, and Allen are more interested in philosophical ideas. Though some of their films are enjoyable at face value, they contain some intense philosophical depth.
Another issue I have with Bauder is his premise that some mediums, namely theater/film, can be inherently flawed. I understand that any medium can be used for carnal purposes. Music, painting, sculpture, photography, and literature can all be used in non-God-honoring ways. Yet I cannot accept that a medium can be non-God-honoring in itself. A medium is a means of communication. It is amoral. There are not good mediums and evil mediums. The morality of a medium depends on the message. It seems very constrictive to say that only certain mediums are appropriate conveyors of God's truth.
Allow me to now lay out my views on cinema, and why I love it. I see film as having two main aspects, the cinematic and the thematic. The cinematic includes the plot, the dialog, the cinematography, the sound, the acting--all the technical/production aspects of the film. These are the things most people see when they see a film. This is the primary reason why most people watch films, for these are the things that easily entertain us. The thematic includes the main theme and philosophy of the film. In most films, the cinematic conveys the thematic. For me, both of these are important. I do not like films that lack in cinematic value. I enjoy a good plot, witty dialog, beautiful cinematography, and good acting as much as any one else. Films that lack these values are not worth my time. However, films that contain only these values are also not worth my time. Popcorn or escapists films may look neat and may provide simple entertainment, but ultimately waste my time, as I walk away with nothing. The thematic is the more important aspect. I want to see a film that has something to say, whether or not I agree with it. I like films that deal with significant and universal themes. I like films that challenge my aesthetic sense, and cause me to think intently about what they are saying. I like films that take a while to digest. Most people, and many times myself, are interested in film because most films think for us. Television is as popular as it is because it does everything for us. This is why TV and film can be so dangerous. We let our intellectual guard down and simply ingest what we are fed. We can probably get something meaningful out of any film if we are willing to bring along our intellect. Some films will challenge us in that their is nothing in it to challenge us. It takes all our intellectual power to squeeze some significant point from the film. For me, film can be endlessly entertaining, and I have yet to see how to be entertained is unhealthy, spiritually speaking. Yet, film can also be endlessly intellectually invigorating. That is why I love films.