"We find people made fierce by love; and by wickedness made seductively gentle. A father spanks a boy, while a kidnapper caresses him. Offered a choice between spankings and caresses, who would not choose the caresses and avoid the spankings? But when you consider the people who give them you realize that it is love that spanks, wickedness that caresses. This is what I insist upon: human actions can only be understood by their root in love. All kinds of actions might appear good without proceeding from the root of love. Remember, thorns also have flowers: some actions seem truly savage, but are done for the sake of discipline motivated by love. Once and for all, I give you this one short command: love, and do what you will. If you hold your peace, hold your peace out of love. If you cry out, cry out in love. If you correct someone, correct them out of love. If you spare them, spare them out of love. Let the root of love be in you: nothing can spring from it but good. …"
------Augustine
Saturday, August 17, 2019
Saturday, August 3, 2019
Pelagianism and the Placebo of Liberal Solutions to the Problem of Evil
It is interesting to see who theological presuppositions come into play even in a political world that often pretends to be void of religious mandates. I personally think that there is more secularism in play in conservative politics than in liberal politics. Liberalism is basically a religious cult with its own advancement of theological and ethical ideas that are pushed on others like a new Spanish Inquisition.
One of these theological ideas, however, is present, not explicitly, but implicitly presupposed in liberal solutions to problems concerning crime, and that is Pelagian anthropology.
In Pelagian thought, humans are basically a blank slate when they are born. There is no disposition of their spiritual nature that hinders them from achieving goodness. It is merely the choices them make.
Hence, in the Pelagian paradigm, if there are bad choices being made, it is merely because the person chooses them. So the liberal concludes that if man is basically a blank slate, and he is choosing wrong, it is because his environment has convinced him to choose wrong. Ergo, the environment is the problem. It must be changed.
If bad choices, therefore, come from an environment of poverty, then everyone should be given the same amount of money and some of those bad choices will go away. If bad choices come from a lack of education, then giving people the best education possible will cause some of those bad choices to go away. If the presence of guns causes people to make bad choices, then getting rid of guns will cause some of those bad choices to go away.
It is never considered whether the reason why people make bad choices is because they love evil, and would make those choices regardless of whether they were privileged with wealth, education, a non-violent environment, etc. This is the Augustinian, i.e., orthodox and biblical view concerning why man makes bad choices.
It is not his environment. It is his nature that must be changed.
This is not to say that environment does not direct one's nature to a particular expression of his love for evil, but that the problem of man's evil cannot be solved by a change of environment. This is a lesson that the Bible teaches in a few places, but particularly with the flood narrative, where Noah and his family are placed in an environment now free from the evils of the world, and yet, fall into sin because "man is evil from his earliest existence."
The problem isn't guns. It's man who wants to murder when he's angry or apathetic toward others. The problem isn't poverty. It's man who is lazy or who wants to oppress others even when they are not lazy. The problem isn't lack of education. If you educate a theif, as the saying goes, he'll become a better thief. The problem is man.
As such, the only solution can be found in what changes man's nature, and the only thing that changes man's nature is the gospel and the Word of God that builds upon the regeneration found therein. Apart from this, everything else is a band-aid put on a wound created by cancerous cells. It may cover up the problem to where it looks like it was a good solution, but in the end, the cancer continues to grow unchecked. It will consume the body because the right remedy requires the right diagnosis. The nations that have come before, and continue to fall because of their theological malpractice are the corpses of the mistreated.
As such social reform is futile. Our culture is just as immoral, if not more so, as it was before all of this activity of social reform. Social justice is nothing more than the administration of a placebo to calm those who are dying.
One of these theological ideas, however, is present, not explicitly, but implicitly presupposed in liberal solutions to problems concerning crime, and that is Pelagian anthropology.
In Pelagian thought, humans are basically a blank slate when they are born. There is no disposition of their spiritual nature that hinders them from achieving goodness. It is merely the choices them make.
Hence, in the Pelagian paradigm, if there are bad choices being made, it is merely because the person chooses them. So the liberal concludes that if man is basically a blank slate, and he is choosing wrong, it is because his environment has convinced him to choose wrong. Ergo, the environment is the problem. It must be changed.
If bad choices, therefore, come from an environment of poverty, then everyone should be given the same amount of money and some of those bad choices will go away. If bad choices come from a lack of education, then giving people the best education possible will cause some of those bad choices to go away. If the presence of guns causes people to make bad choices, then getting rid of guns will cause some of those bad choices to go away.
It is never considered whether the reason why people make bad choices is because they love evil, and would make those choices regardless of whether they were privileged with wealth, education, a non-violent environment, etc. This is the Augustinian, i.e., orthodox and biblical view concerning why man makes bad choices.
It is not his environment. It is his nature that must be changed.
This is not to say that environment does not direct one's nature to a particular expression of his love for evil, but that the problem of man's evil cannot be solved by a change of environment. This is a lesson that the Bible teaches in a few places, but particularly with the flood narrative, where Noah and his family are placed in an environment now free from the evils of the world, and yet, fall into sin because "man is evil from his earliest existence."
The problem isn't guns. It's man who wants to murder when he's angry or apathetic toward others. The problem isn't poverty. It's man who is lazy or who wants to oppress others even when they are not lazy. The problem isn't lack of education. If you educate a theif, as the saying goes, he'll become a better thief. The problem is man.
As such, the only solution can be found in what changes man's nature, and the only thing that changes man's nature is the gospel and the Word of God that builds upon the regeneration found therein. Apart from this, everything else is a band-aid put on a wound created by cancerous cells. It may cover up the problem to where it looks like it was a good solution, but in the end, the cancer continues to grow unchecked. It will consume the body because the right remedy requires the right diagnosis. The nations that have come before, and continue to fall because of their theological malpractice are the corpses of the mistreated.
As such social reform is futile. Our culture is just as immoral, if not more so, as it was before all of this activity of social reform. Social justice is nothing more than the administration of a placebo to calm those who are dying.
Friday, August 2, 2019
The Postmillennial Prosperity Gospel
I'm wondering if the way that prophetic texts in the OT are read by Postmillennials have some continuity with the way they are read by the prosperity gospel? It seems that if one is to read these texts as having their fulfillment in the physical victory of the church, then it may simply be a matter of moving prosperity from the invidual to the larger nation or globe.
But this also begs the question as to why one must read it collectively without any application to the individuals who make up the collective. I know most Postmillennials in the Reformed camp would absolutely reject the prosperity gospel; and yet, if the physical fulfillment of the prophecies in the OT are for the church today, why exactly is the prosperity gospel off its mark?
In postmillennial theology, nature becomes harmonized and prosperous, political structures are subdued and become prosperous. Why wouldn't individuals become financially and materially prosperous as well? Isn't there a promise of good crops, healthy children, wealth and well-being all around?
Two things are important, I think, in discussing both of these theologies.
1. Victory in the New Testament is part of the already-not yet theology found therein. Hence, what is victorious is spiritual until the new earth comes with Christ's return in the resurrection of the dead. Until then, there is no promise the New Testament gives of any kind of material victory, including political victory. The definition that Revelation gives to victory is when one can give all for the sake of Christ and is no longer enslaved by the pressures of the world to compromise. Victory often ends in death in the book, not an acquiring of political power. So like the prosperity gospel, it is an over-realized eschatology, where the physical blessings of the new heavens and earth to come are thought to be offered now.
2. Prophecy in the OT does not function as absolute promises of what will be in the future. They are contingent promises. This means that they exist for their recipients, i.e., Israel, as long as Israel is obedient. Most of the texts cited are often references that argue that God is going to restore Israel to a place of prominence and prosperity (as a picture of the new heavens and earth to come) if, and only if, they turn from their sins, usually after the exile, and obey God. They don't. That's why these things did not come about. There is no sense given by the New Testament that those promises remain for the church on the microcosmic scale, i.e., in this world; but rather that the Church is spiritual Israel and will receive the physical promises in the new cosmos after the resurrection. Until then, it will be a picture in terms of its spiritual prosperity in Christ, not its physical prosperity or victory in this world.
I'm not sure how one answers these things. Is postmillennial eschatology just a matter of not understanding the way that OT prophecy works coupled with not understanding the already-not yet trajectory of the New Testament?
But this also begs the question as to why one must read it collectively without any application to the individuals who make up the collective. I know most Postmillennials in the Reformed camp would absolutely reject the prosperity gospel; and yet, if the physical fulfillment of the prophecies in the OT are for the church today, why exactly is the prosperity gospel off its mark?
In postmillennial theology, nature becomes harmonized and prosperous, political structures are subdued and become prosperous. Why wouldn't individuals become financially and materially prosperous as well? Isn't there a promise of good crops, healthy children, wealth and well-being all around?
Two things are important, I think, in discussing both of these theologies.
1. Victory in the New Testament is part of the already-not yet theology found therein. Hence, what is victorious is spiritual until the new earth comes with Christ's return in the resurrection of the dead. Until then, there is no promise the New Testament gives of any kind of material victory, including political victory. The definition that Revelation gives to victory is when one can give all for the sake of Christ and is no longer enslaved by the pressures of the world to compromise. Victory often ends in death in the book, not an acquiring of political power. So like the prosperity gospel, it is an over-realized eschatology, where the physical blessings of the new heavens and earth to come are thought to be offered now.
2. Prophecy in the OT does not function as absolute promises of what will be in the future. They are contingent promises. This means that they exist for their recipients, i.e., Israel, as long as Israel is obedient. Most of the texts cited are often references that argue that God is going to restore Israel to a place of prominence and prosperity (as a picture of the new heavens and earth to come) if, and only if, they turn from their sins, usually after the exile, and obey God. They don't. That's why these things did not come about. There is no sense given by the New Testament that those promises remain for the church on the microcosmic scale, i.e., in this world; but rather that the Church is spiritual Israel and will receive the physical promises in the new cosmos after the resurrection. Until then, it will be a picture in terms of its spiritual prosperity in Christ, not its physical prosperity or victory in this world.
I'm not sure how one answers these things. Is postmillennial eschatology just a matter of not understanding the way that OT prophecy works coupled with not understanding the already-not yet trajectory of the New Testament?
The AntiChrist Is Both Beasts
It's popular to argue today that modern eschatology has gotten their identification of the beast and antichrist all mixed up. Modern eschatology gets almost everything wrong, so why not one more thing?
However, because there is one, and yet many leading up to the one, just like eschatological events themselves, the beast and antichrist in New Testament theology can be identified as the same person at any given time, and I will argue that it is in the Book of Revelation.
First, it is important to note that the idea itself stems from the events in Daniel, where Antiochus IV, both a state leader and a religious figure, sets himself up to be worshiped in the temple of God in Jerusalem. He is often called "the lawless one," or as Paul says in 2 Thessalonians "the man of lawlessness." In vv. 2-12, the text reads as follows.
3 gLet no one deceive you in any way. For that day will not come, hunless the rebellion comes first, and ithe man of lawlessness2 is revealed, jthe son of destruction,3 4 who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, kproclaiming himself to be God. 5 Do you not remember that when I was still with you I told you these things? 6 And you know what is restraining him now so that he may be revealed in his time. 7 For lthe mystery of lawlessness mis already at work. Only he who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way. 8 And then nthe lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus owill kill with pthe breath of his mouth and bring to nothing by qthe appearance of his coming. 9 The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan rwith all power and false signs and wonders, 10 and with all wicked deception for sthose who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. 11 Therefore tGod sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe uwhat is false, 12 in order that all may be condemned vwho did not believe the truth but whad pleasure in unrighteousness.
Notice that this language and imagery is taken from Epiphanes, who is both a political and religious figure. Paul is not merely talking about some false teacher in the church. That would be extremely odd imagery to employ if the man had no political power and was also the object of worship (those who attempt to find some sort of figure like this in the early church fail to find a figure that fits the bill exactly and are left to mold these descriptions to people like a wax nose).
The reason why this figure must be both political and religious is that he would not have had the ability to exalt himself above Caesar or the Roman gods unless he actually was Caesar and claimed to be the highest of Roman gods, i.e., Jupiter. It may be that Paul is not thinking of a false teacher like Cerinthus, but instead of Caligula who had ordered a statue of himself be placed in the temple (his death being the only thing that ultimately prevented this).
Likewise, the figure often referenced as the beast in Revelation (actually there are two different beasts in Revelation, not one) is clearly a political figure and a religious figure in that it is a Roman Emperor exalting himself as a god.
Unlike the singular beast in Paul's description, John breaks him up into two different beasts, one making the blasphemous claims of deity and exalting himself above all gods, and one lending him support and making those claims of him as well.
The question becomes what John is doing in his theology of the man of lawlessness. In Paul's description, the man of lawlessness is accompanied by all sorts of displays of power and false signs and wonders. In Revelation, these signs and wonders are brought about through the second beast, which is the religious teacher.
In fact, I would argue the second beast is not just any religious teacher, but is any false teacher in the church (this beast has the horns of a lamb, i.e., comes in the name and authority of Christ).
This brings us to the Johannine Epistles, where John states that the spirit of antichrist has already come into the world (1 John 2:18). A similar statement is made by Paul above in that "the mystery of lawlessness is already at work," even though the man of lawlessness is not yet revealed.
What brings this all together is understanding what the word "antichrist" actually means. The preposition anti in the New Testament means "replacement." It refers in John to either the Christology of false prophets or the false prophets themselves simply because they have placed their false Christ's in the place of the true One, and have hence replaced Christ. They are antichrist. But there is also the AntiChrist to whom John alludes that is merely being prefigured by these false teachers and their false Christs.
John is likely, therefore, alluding to the man of lawlessness, and if we understand that the word antichrist means "replacement Christ," then we understand that anyone who either teaches himself to be or anyone else to be Christ beside the real Jesus Christ is an antichrist. The beast from the abyss in Revelation qualifies and so does the other beast from the land.
They all likely prefigure the lawless one who will be revealed/the antichrist who is coming.
This also means that any political figure who puts himself in the seat of Christ, or any Christian who props up that figure or any replacement of Christ is antichrist espousing the doctrines of antichrist. It is not limited in its application when it comes to the types that prefigure the actual one who is coming. The beast absolutely exalts himself as a replacement of Christ in Revelation. Christians are to bow to him as lord and savior of the world, not Jesus exclusively.
Hence, it is absolutely fine to identify both of the beasts in Revelation as the antichrists, even though John does not use that language (Revelation is filled with Johannine theology that expresses the concepts used by John elsewhere in the vivid and symbolic imagery of apocalyptic speech). Certainly, John is using Paul's statement in 2 Thessalonians, and explaining that the man of lawlessness is accompanied by a false prophet that props him up in support, and that this false prophet is a false teacher(s) in the church (the very false teachers he is dealing with in the letters at the beginning of the book).
None of these shadows are the actually substance, of course. Christ does not rain fire upon Cerinthus or Titus or Nero or Domitian or any other person one seeks to identify in the first century. In fact, the coming of Christ in all of these passages hails the end of the physical existence and reign of the man of lawlessness/beast. That does not happen to any of these people in the first century, and so they remain only types and nothing more.
However, because there is one, and yet many leading up to the one, just like eschatological events themselves, the beast and antichrist in New Testament theology can be identified as the same person at any given time, and I will argue that it is in the Book of Revelation.
First, it is important to note that the idea itself stems from the events in Daniel, where Antiochus IV, both a state leader and a religious figure, sets himself up to be worshiped in the temple of God in Jerusalem. He is often called "the lawless one," or as Paul says in 2 Thessalonians "the man of lawlessness." In vv. 2-12, the text reads as follows.
3 gLet no one deceive you in any way. For that day will not come, hunless the rebellion comes first, and ithe man of lawlessness2 is revealed, jthe son of destruction,3 4 who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, kproclaiming himself to be God. 5 Do you not remember that when I was still with you I told you these things? 6 And you know what is restraining him now so that he may be revealed in his time. 7 For lthe mystery of lawlessness mis already at work. Only he who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way. 8 And then nthe lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus owill kill with pthe breath of his mouth and bring to nothing by qthe appearance of his coming. 9 The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan rwith all power and false signs and wonders, 10 and with all wicked deception for sthose who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. 11 Therefore tGod sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe uwhat is false, 12 in order that all may be condemned vwho did not believe the truth but whad pleasure in unrighteousness.
Notice that this language and imagery is taken from Epiphanes, who is both a political and religious figure. Paul is not merely talking about some false teacher in the church. That would be extremely odd imagery to employ if the man had no political power and was also the object of worship (those who attempt to find some sort of figure like this in the early church fail to find a figure that fits the bill exactly and are left to mold these descriptions to people like a wax nose).
The reason why this figure must be both political and religious is that he would not have had the ability to exalt himself above Caesar or the Roman gods unless he actually was Caesar and claimed to be the highest of Roman gods, i.e., Jupiter. It may be that Paul is not thinking of a false teacher like Cerinthus, but instead of Caligula who had ordered a statue of himself be placed in the temple (his death being the only thing that ultimately prevented this).
Likewise, the figure often referenced as the beast in Revelation (actually there are two different beasts in Revelation, not one) is clearly a political figure and a religious figure in that it is a Roman Emperor exalting himself as a god.
Unlike the singular beast in Paul's description, John breaks him up into two different beasts, one making the blasphemous claims of deity and exalting himself above all gods, and one lending him support and making those claims of him as well.
The question becomes what John is doing in his theology of the man of lawlessness. In Paul's description, the man of lawlessness is accompanied by all sorts of displays of power and false signs and wonders. In Revelation, these signs and wonders are brought about through the second beast, which is the religious teacher.
In fact, I would argue the second beast is not just any religious teacher, but is any false teacher in the church (this beast has the horns of a lamb, i.e., comes in the name and authority of Christ).
This brings us to the Johannine Epistles, where John states that the spirit of antichrist has already come into the world (1 John 2:18). A similar statement is made by Paul above in that "the mystery of lawlessness is already at work," even though the man of lawlessness is not yet revealed.
What brings this all together is understanding what the word "antichrist" actually means. The preposition anti in the New Testament means "replacement." It refers in John to either the Christology of false prophets or the false prophets themselves simply because they have placed their false Christ's in the place of the true One, and have hence replaced Christ. They are antichrist. But there is also the AntiChrist to whom John alludes that is merely being prefigured by these false teachers and their false Christs.
John is likely, therefore, alluding to the man of lawlessness, and if we understand that the word antichrist means "replacement Christ," then we understand that anyone who either teaches himself to be or anyone else to be Christ beside the real Jesus Christ is an antichrist. The beast from the abyss in Revelation qualifies and so does the other beast from the land.
They all likely prefigure the lawless one who will be revealed/the antichrist who is coming.
This also means that any political figure who puts himself in the seat of Christ, or any Christian who props up that figure or any replacement of Christ is antichrist espousing the doctrines of antichrist. It is not limited in its application when it comes to the types that prefigure the actual one who is coming. The beast absolutely exalts himself as a replacement of Christ in Revelation. Christians are to bow to him as lord and savior of the world, not Jesus exclusively.
Hence, it is absolutely fine to identify both of the beasts in Revelation as the antichrists, even though John does not use that language (Revelation is filled with Johannine theology that expresses the concepts used by John elsewhere in the vivid and symbolic imagery of apocalyptic speech). Certainly, John is using Paul's statement in 2 Thessalonians, and explaining that the man of lawlessness is accompanied by a false prophet that props him up in support, and that this false prophet is a false teacher(s) in the church (the very false teachers he is dealing with in the letters at the beginning of the book).
None of these shadows are the actually substance, of course. Christ does not rain fire upon Cerinthus or Titus or Nero or Domitian or any other person one seeks to identify in the first century. In fact, the coming of Christ in all of these passages hails the end of the physical existence and reign of the man of lawlessness/beast. That does not happen to any of these people in the first century, and so they remain only types and nothing more.
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