Scribbling Theology:

Category: Scribbles

• Systematic Theology vs Biblical Theology

  Posted at 1:07 pm by scribblingtheology, on February 10, 2020

  

  When I started to think through my Christian faith, I would do so in terms of fixed categories. For example, Calvinist or Arminian. The Trinity. Premillennial, Amillenial or Postmillennial. Baptist, Anglican, or Pentecostal. Cessationist or Continuationist and many, many more. These are all systematic categories, and they’re helpful because they help the Church to navigate the often muddied waters of theology (of what to believe and not to believe). This kind of approach to neatly defining the Faith is very Western. Starting with the early church fathers through to the reformation and into the modern age we often (not always) find systematicians heavily influenced by Western categorical approaches to Christianity. Despite the influence of deconstructionism, this has actually been a good thing. Faithful theologians like Augustine, Luther, Calvin and Zwingli have used systematics to both guards against heresy and to recover biblical Christianity. However, the use of these sorts of categories has not always been so helpful (at least in my experience.

  Throughout my time studying theology and living the Christian life, I have encountered many people who have taken these systematic categories and formed an identity out of it. All of a sudden Calvinism or Arminianism is equated to true Christianity, and anyone else needs to repent and believe. Instead of one Faith, one body, one Spirit, other Christians become second class where they’re ostracised and considered unclean. Tribes within Christianity are formed, and instead of defending the walls, we turn on one another desperate for theological supremacy. Theology in many corners of the Faith has gone from serving the Church to destroying it all because of pride. I admit I have played my own part in this terrible ordeal and as I continue to move past it, I look back, and I can count three main things that helped me shed my theological prejudice and pride:

  1. Biblical theology
  2. Jesus’ commands to love others
  3. The opportunity to love others

  For me, biblical theology saved me from possibly years and years of tribalism and systematic theology supremacy. While categories were helpful, I began to learn that the Bible isn’t a systematic textbook. Instead, it’s a narrative leading to Jesus Christ and the salvation of humanity. Sometimes categories like free will, God’s sovereignty, the trinity, and total depravity, while correct weren’t so cut and dry. All of a sudden, I went from neatly coloured boxes to colouring just outside of the lines which actually unified the Scriptures for me better overall than ever before. This is where I began to hold “tensions.” Yes, humanity is totally depraved, yet we have stories such as Noah or Abraham, finding favour in God’s eyes because of their faith. Yes, God is sovereign over every atom and movement throughout history, yet we see God hold people accountable for their own free actions. Things weren’t so neat anymore, and I loved it. It was freeing to not bind myself to any-one camp or tribe instead I now strive to commit myself to biblical Christianity (yes I see the irony in that statement, you gotta draw a line somewhere). Now I have genuine friends whom I love in all sorts of camps that I love to float to and fro from. Which leads me to my next point…

  The second thing that saved me from my theological pride was to take the command to love others seriously. This is, an ongoing journey, but until recently, I just hadn’t obeyed this command. For me being an Arminian was more important than loving my Calvinist brothers in Christ. It was more important for me to defend human free will then it was to bear their burdens, to weep with them and to rejoice with them. I thought “if only I could convince them that Jesus really did die for every single person and not just the elect then they’d be better Christians” when in reality what they needed was someone to pray for them and to minister to them in love. God placed one such person in my life that until recently was an ongoing struggle to love and be a brother too. For the longest time, we took every opportunity to one-up each other, to flex our theological minds until the Spirit broke us and bonded us in love. Now we can’t stop talking to one another as we bounce off one another in love for each other’s benefits to the glory of God.

  Finally, biblical theology and systematic theology needs one another (sprinkled with a bit of love). Without biblical theology, systematics become rigid, demanding and inflexible. Yet without systematics, biblical theology can easily be led down the path of liberalism. Our categorised theological traditions safeguard the Faith and have done so for thousands of years. So let us study theology to our heart’s content. Let us do so with discernment and wisdom, the love of Christ and a spirit of worship.

  The goal of theology is the worship of God. The posture of theology is on one’s knees. The mode of theology is repentance.  – Sinclair B. Ferguson

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• Christian Deconstructionism: The Good and the Bad

  Posted at 2:17 pm by scribblingtheology, on February 8, 2020

  

  When I first became a Christian, I swallowed everything hook, line and sinker. I was taught premillennialism, young-earth creationism, and that the Bible was always meant to be read literally unless there was an excellent reason to read it otherwise. Of course, anyone else was wrong and against the purest form of our Faith. These days as I’ve gone through my own sort of deconstructionism, I find myself in a very different place. I’m now an amillennial, an evolutionary creationist, and I’ve learnt to read Scripture according to its literary genre and context. Some of these things might sound fairly mundane to some of you, but for me, even the most basic of these concepts set me on a trajectory that would radically shape the way I relate to God, the Word, humanity and creation. So, rather than walking away from Christianity (which so often happens with people who go through things like this) I pressed forward trusting that God would conform me to the image of His Son (Rom 8:29).

  So what is Deconstructionism? Philosophically, it is the idea that there is no fixed meaning in a text. Instead, everything in any given text is subjective and open to rigorous interpretation (originated by Jacques Derrida 1930-2004). As all things often do, this idea spilt over into a popular Christian movement in the West where traditionally held to beliefs like I’ve listed above (among others) are challenged and pulled apart (deconstructed) and are held up to scrutiny. Once plainly understood verses and passages are now challenged, reinterpreted and reapplied. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. One author defines deconstructionism like this:

  “Let’s say our faith was like a sweater. Yarn: our ideology. Weave: our tradition. This is how you wear it. Don’t change it, even if the sweater doesn’t keep you warm any more. Even if it’s too tight or the threads cut off oxygen at your neck. This is the way. Doubts and questions mean disrespect, and those are the seeds of evil, so just don’t.

  But over the years, a thread comes loose and you try to just tuck it in alongside the others. You can cover the fraying up. You can pull the thread and think, ‘Oh, I don’t need this one, because it is harmful to me; it’s itchy and gets caught on corners.’ It comes out easily. And the sweater stays together. Then you pull another, and another, and soon you find all the yarn is gone. You have deconstructed the entire thing. You are left naked. People gawk and run away, and you feel two opposing things: the freedom of glorious nakedness, and the fear of the same.”

  Lisa Gungor, writing in The Most Beautiful Thing I’ve Seen (Zondervan)

  I have to admit I have felt the freedom of being naked and the fear that comes with change and the judgement you often feel from the people around you who still hold firmly to their traditional beliefs (God bless ’em). Deconstructing one’s Faith is a beautiful, liberating endeavour where (at least in my experience) it has led me into a deeper faith than I ever had before. However, that hasn’t been true for everyone. Unfortunately, people stay naked and join a commune (if you’re still tracking with the metaphor) and never come back. Over the years, there have been a few famous people who have fit this category. Rob Bell started off fairly conservative/ fundamental went through his own deconstruction and now (as much as I love the guy) is hardly even a Christian. This process needs to be walked with wisdom and discernment. That’s ironically a little subjective I know, but my point is that the human heart, while we often mean well and strive for goodness, it’s quite deceptive and easily led astray.  Human nature is a chaotic mess that needs order which takes time and patience under the hand of God. Deconstructionism coupled with dedication for reconstructionism can be either a beautiful part of this process (which we usually call sanctification) or, if done without wisdom it can be destructive.

  So here are a few thoughts and perhaps guidelines for people going through this or for people watching their loved ones going through it:

  1. Christ-like humility. Whether your a black and white fundamentalist or a Christian who is wrestling with some of the hardest questions of our Faith, it all must be done with extreme humility. That is to say, if you’re worried about your friend going through deconstructionism, remember that at some point in your walk with God you didn’t have all the right answers either and I’m sure you still don’t. Don’t let your dedication to guarding that which you’ve been bought up in cloud your ability to love your brother or sister in Christ.

  If you are deconstructing, remember that tradition is wisdom. There have been dozens if not hundreds of learned scholars and theologians throughout church history who have tackled the same things you’re wrestling with. You aren’t a lone wolf. Humbly seek the advice of the sages and saints who have gone before you and of those who are around you.

  2. The centrality of God’s Word. God speaks, and He does so primarily through the Scriptures. If you’re watching your friend go through deconstructionism trust that God will work through His Word and through His people (even you). If you’re going through deconstruction, remember that God’s Word is trustworthy and good. You might be struggling with the idea of inerrancy (I’ve been there) or inspiration, but there is a reason why it’s the most popular book in the history of humanity.

  The Way of the Righteous and the Wicked
  Blessed is the man
  who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
  nor stands in the way of sinners,
  nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
  but his delight is in the law of the LORD,
  and on his law he meditates day and night.

  He is like a tree
  planted by streams of water
  that yields its fruit in its season,
  and its leaf does not wither.
  In all that he does, he prospers.
  The wicked are not so,
  but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

  – Psalm 1:1–4

  3. Finally, as you deconstruct your Faith do so prayerfully and with the expectation that God will work in you good things. Invite God along for the ride, continuously examine yourself, making sure that you’re deconstructing with the right intentions and attitudes. Some use deconstruction as a way out of the Faith, seeking to justify other lifestyles. Instead, let the Spirit move in you as you work out your salvation with fear and trembling. Oh and remember, take every question to God no matter how heretical or silly it sounds. God wants to work at it with you.

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• Chaotic Love

  Posted at 8:56 am by scribblingtheology, on January 15, 2020

  

  I hate love stories, they always make cry, I’ve never even read a love novel. My favourite stories are love tragedies. Samson and Delilah, Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story, The Titanic. The 2003 classic Love Actually has to be one of my all-time favourite love movies though. In particular, the scene where Andrew Lincoln stands outside of Keira Knightley’s door as he boldly declares his love for her all the while her new husband is inside watching T.V always makes me cry. Oh, what could have been? I feel for the guy. Completely in love with a woman he can never have. How long has he been thinking about her, imagining what life what have been like had he met her first? Then, finally, he spills his feelings in a romantic gesture to only walk away from it all, leaving us all wondering if there was a next? What I love about the scene is that he was, at least eventually, so forward with his feelings, yet it didn’t end up the way he’d hope despite his years of dreaming.

  Presenting the unfortunate drama of love and life.

  Personally, love has taken its toll. There’s always a cost with love, a risk that we’re usually blind to because we so desperately want to believe that a knight in shining armour will rescue us from our towers. Thanks, Dinsey. For a lot of people, we swipe right, meet, fall in love and get married. We spend thousands and thousands of dollars on a day where despite the vows, despite the promises made, despite the people cheering and wishing you well, nothing is assured. Meet reality.

  Love is real, but Disney is a myth. Love is as whimsical and as magical as it is practical and painful. Love can happen in an instant, or it develops over time and can be gone the next day again. Love can make you giddy, content, or crazy. People have fought wars over love and swam across oceans, others have simply knocked on the door while being invited in for some ice tea, or they walk away knowing that may never get the one they want. Love binds and breaks, it enlightens and makes us stupid. It cannot be controlled, simply guided. For the Christian love is governed by the Bible, for others, it’s guided by whatever it is their worldview presupposes. However, even for the Christian, as much as we want to believe it, the Bible isn’t a sure way to cover us from the chaotic nature that is love. Love is patient, love is kind and Christian marriage should endure. Life though throws us a curveball, and when love comes crashing down around you in all of its forms, we must beg the questions what now?

  Many of you know my story, many of you may not. This isn’t a sceptical reaction to love. I love, love. I thrive on it, and I think you do too. If I can offer any wisdom or advice on the topic of love, it is this:

  1. Love is a chaotic force that can bring a lot of peace and order to your life. It is not to be taken lightly, yet there is something about it that’s magical.
  2. How love works depends on your choices, yet it can’t be controlled.
  3. Let love take you places, yet be wise in your dealings with it.
  4. Never, ever give up on it, despite its fickle nature, it doesn’t give up on you.
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• Politically Christian

  Posted at 12:37 pm by scribblingtheology, on January 7, 2020

  

  Australia is on fire, and the Greens are to blame, or maybe Scott Morrison is. Trump ordered an assassination on the Iranian Major General Qasem Soleimani which, as Iran promises, guarantees severe consequences and international backlash. Climate change, LGBTQI, international trade and globalisation, human rights. The world is in rapid flux. Peace one day, on fire the next. Politics are unavoidable.

  I never thought I’d admit it but to be Christian is to be inescapably political. Here’s why:

  1. Christians live in a kingdom with a king who rules over every other system of government and power (Psalm 2, Daniel 2:21, Matthew 28:18, Revelation 1:4-5).
  2. Christians, therefore, are inherently monarchists who bow the knee to King Jesus. This is a political stance. We’re saying every other government is on borrowed power and time from a higher power which reigns over them eternally.
  3. Therefore, whenever we vote for a leader or a policy, we do it with Jesus in mind. We must ask ourselves if what it is we’re voting for is aligned with God’s kingdom revealed in His Word (Matthew 5-7 is a great place to start).
  4. Whenever we do vote, whenever we get involved in politics, as citizens of God’s kingdom, we are declaring something about who God is. If we vote for climate change policies, we are saying God cares about the environment. If we vote against abortion, we’re declaring that God cares about all life. If we vote for religious freedom, we’re showing that God, at least in this age, gives everyone the freedom to decide who they will worship.

  In the ever-intensifying geopolitical climate that we all live in, we must prepare ourselves for what is to come. Politics is unavoidable, and because of the Gospel we preach, and the King that we worship we’re already involved in politics anyway. Let’s hold up a minute. Before we go gate crashing the government and rioting for change, Christian, change happens first within the Church itself. If you haven’t already go and read Awaiting the King by James K. A. Smith, one of the best books I read last year among others. In it, Smith argues that

  1. Being political is actually worship
  2. Worship is actually political
  3. That influencing the political world happens first in and through the Church.
  4. When we do inevitably engage in the political sphere, do so with hopeful reservation.

  Which begs the question, what is worship? Singing? Yes. Reading the Bible? Yes. Prayer? Yes, though worship is more. Worship is loving one another as yourself. It’s actually everything you do every day for the rest of your life to the glory of God. Why? Because as a Christian, you are in Christ, the temple, the place where worship happens, where communion between God and His people meet. You cannot escape worship, and you cannot escape than being political because we don’t worship only God but a King of Kings and a Lord of Lords. So here are my easy steps to being a healthy political Christian in 2020:

  • Go to a sacramental centred church. As Smith argues, it is through the liturgical means of the church that the people of God are transformed. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper demonstrate the Gospel, and the Word proclaims it (these are the three sacraments given to the church by Christ).
  • As the Word transforms, as the Supper of the Lord’s death seeps into your soul and Baptism brings you life, love one another fiercely, so that the rest of the world looks on with jealousy and awe. This means that you need to meet other’s needs. Meet them in brokenness, forgive them when they sin against you.
  • Go out and proclaim the Gospel, which is the power of God to save. Before any political reform happens, hearts need to be changed, and only God can do that through the Good News proclaimed by the Church.
  • Engage in the public sphere with a now but not yet mentality. What we do and vote for matters in eternity, however, remember that Jesus is still to return and make all things new at His second coming.

  This 2020 be wise in your engagement in the political sphere. Love, worship and rest knowing Jesus reigns and the world is indeed running on fumes.

   

  The call to follow Christ, the call to desire his kingdom, does not simplify our lives by segregating us in some “pure” space; to the contrary, the call to bear Christ’s image complicates our lives because it comes to us in the midst of our environments without releasing us from them. – James K. A. Smith

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• 2019 Mix Up: My Five Favourite Blogs of the Year

  Posted at 6:50 am by scribblingtheology, on December 16, 2019

  

  Here is a list of my top five favourite blogs I’ve written this year for your viewing pleasure:

  1. Genesis 1-11 Part I: Authorship, Context and Genre
  2. Let’s Fight Depression
  3. The Local Church: A Slice of the New Earth
  4. Between Churches
  5. My Year in Review: 2019
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• My Year in Review: 2019

  Posted at 12:05 pm by scribblingtheology, on December 14, 2019

  

  “And men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty waves of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, yet pass over the mystery of themselves without a thought.”
  ― St. Augustine of Hippo, Confessions

  As 2019 wraps up, as the Earth begins to make its final trip around the Sun, as people all over the world scurry to a fro in a capitalistic drive to purchase an overabundance of gifts for people who’s hearts will never be truly satisfied… I sit back and reflect on the year gone by. What a year it has been. If I were to describe it in one word, that word would be “wearisome.” We’re only days away from Christmas, and as I write this, I can say that I am tired and broken. I’ve moved from the city to the coast, changed jobs by buying a cafe, struggled to settle into a church, I’ve changed positions on some big theological ideas, and on top of all that my wife and I separated. It’s been a tough year of change and heartache, and I have as many questions as I have things to be thankful for.

  One of the biggest things I’ve been thankful for is my family and friends (cliche I know, but it’s true). Despite what I’ve been going through, everyone has been there for me from the entire spiritual spectrum. From non-believers to conservative Christians, they’ve all loved me, prayed for me and have been there for me as much as possible without any judgement. They’ve born my burdens, watched me cry and have listened. I couldn’t have had better people in my life. It’s times like these that genuinely prove who your friends are and they’ve gone above and beyond. They’ve genuinely fulfilled the golden rule.

  However, I’m still left with a lot of questions and mixed feelings.

  • Where’s God in all of this?
  • Why has this happened to me?
  • Isn’t God supposed to do good things for me?

  Theologically, I know the answers to all of these.

  • God never leaves or forsakes me
  • This has happened to conform me to the image of His Son
  • God works out all things for good for those who love Him

  It doesn’t make it any easier, though. It leaves me doubting my God and my faith. It makes me wonder what is next for 2020 and where I’m supposed to go from here. I want to rebel and fly off the handle, wake up in a strangers bed with a hangover and indulge in the typical hedonistic life the world has on offer. As I write this though, I’m reminded to not escape the pain and trials through meaningless distractions (entertainment, booze and parties… trust me it’s very tempting), instead, to embrace the pain and to grow in wisdom. The wisest of us suffer and learn, they don’t escape. I want to walk through the flame, look back and be assured that God had more profound things in store for me. I want to experience the Spirit and be infused with His great love for others. I want to sing the Gospel and witness the might of His Kingdom.

  For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. – Romans 8:18

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• The Best Books I’ve Read In 2019

  Posted at 11:16 am by scribblingtheology, on December 14, 2019

  
  1. On The Road With Saint Augustine by James K. A. Smith

  Already one of my favourite theologians, James K. A. Smith, the author of “Desiring the Kingdom” and “How (Not) to Be Secular” delivers another timely book for the wayward soul. Smith brilliantly lays out and takes apart modern existentialism (the Western meta-narrative) while being sympathetic to the restlessness of the human heart. Restlessness Smith argues is a part of the human experience, it’s a part of our nature. However, the never-ending journey is not our home. Instead, God is. This book is a must-read for those, like me, who find themselves at the crossroads of life without a map or a guide. This book is for the exiles and sojourners who can’t settle and especially for the Christian who has become disillusioned with Western Existential Christianity.

    2. Old Testament Theology For Christians by John H. Walton

  You may not know it, but there is a fight happening right now on the fields of theology to uphold the Old Testament. John H. Walton (one of my favourite Old Testament scholars) enters the fray with this timely book. Author of the Lost Word series, a commentary on Genesis and many other great books on the Old Testament, this book in particular stresses the importance of not divorcing the Old Testament from the New Testament, instead, seeing the continuity and relevance of the Old Testament for Christians. Furthermore, Walton challenges our readings of the Old Testament as he invites us to leave aside our modern notions of how Scripture should be read and instead, interpret it on its own terms. A must-read for any serious student of the Old Testament.

    3. The Unseen Realm by Micheal S. Heiser

  In his book “The Unseen Realm” Heiser focus’ on ancient near eastern context to help uncover what the Bible has to say about the spiritual realm, angels, demons and even God Himself. Meiser argues that ancient Israel lived in a polytheistic world and that particular worldview would have informed the way they understood these things. Heiser does so with a lot of research, precision and grace as he tackles this difficult topic. Another must-read for those wanting more insight into what the Bible has to say about the spiritual realm and its inhabitants.

    4.  In The Shelter by Padraig O Tuama

  Padraig O Tuama is a poet and theologian (albeit a liberal one) who writes with a lot of insight into the nature of humanity. Despite the things I disagree with him over, I feel like he’s one of those people we can learn a lot from.

    5. The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

  A great book if you’re into historical fantasy. Set in old Russia, the story follows the life of a young girl Vasya who can communicate with mythological creatures of tales she was told as a child. The book itself explores the conflict between Christianity and the old stories and folklore of Russia as Christianity dominates Russian life. Exceptionally fascinating and even though Christianity is painted to be the bad guys in the story, it serves as a reminder to those of us who would use religion for the wrong reasons (something we’re all privy to). I highly recommend it.

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• Between Churches

  Posted at 7:18 pm by scribblingtheology, on November 27, 2019

  

  Let’s get real. There are many, many Christians out there that struggle going to church on a Sunday. You can’t just tell me it’s because they’re rebellious or whatever. In any given week, I speak to dozens of Christians from different gatherings where they express the same thoughts. At best going to church is something to do on a Sunday morning but it’s boring. The way we do church is very “one way.” We sit, stand, sit, listen to a speech from a person who we don’t really know about a book hardly any of us have learnt to actually read… We give money to an organisation because we think it’s what we’re supposed to do, we stand around the old dirty coffee urn and talk about the movies and how work was during the week… And at very best we go home with maybe a positive one-liner that we’ll forget by the next day like “God has a wonderful plan for your life.” We’re encouraged for all of Monday before reality comes crashing down on us and God’s wonderful plan looks more like broken despair then it does the upbeat abundant life that we’re told about. Church, as it is often done today, seems so out of touch with reality and out of touch with how it looks in the Bible. One can come and go from church for their entire lives without lifting a finger to love other people, without ever learning how to read the Bible for ourselves. We end up equating the Christian life being completed by going to a meeting for an hour or two per week. 

  It’s no wonder then that even myself, one who has (at least in my eyes) a high ecclesiology, who stresses the importance of going to Sunday meetings and recognises the God-ordained life-changing event that is church finds it incredibly difficult to find himself at home in one. In the entire time that I’ve been a Christian, there have only been two churches that I’ve felt that I belonged and content in. The first one was a church on the Sunshine Coast and the second was in Brisbane. The two churches couldn’t be any more different from one another, yet I felt at home in them because I believe for three excellent reasons.

  1. They valued other people more than themselves. One church had the motto “people matter.” That rings true throughout everything they do. From the gym to the cafe, to the swimming pool to the church on a Sunday, this church has built a community where people feel at home. Where they can kick their shoes off,  take a deep breath and try to pick up the pieces as they wander through this broken world. Sometimes they loved people so much that at times the line blurred between who were genuine Christians and who wasn’t. But I get it. When you love people so much, it can sometimes be challenging to draw distinctions because you want to always believe the best about them. My Church in Brisbane, on the other hand, was way more traditional. No community centre, no cafe, no swimming pool. Yet they carried your burdens and genuinely prayed for you. They were concerned about your holiness and love for God as well as your deep hurts and pains (1 Peter 4:8, John 15:12).

  2. They loved the Bible. When I started going to the first church, they preached through the Bible in a year, twice. I got a great feed upon God’s Word and always walked away, knowing that God was speaking. The other church exposited the Scriptures with precision and clarity. Even on topics, I’d generally disagree with them on, I walked away, feeling God loved me and that He’d never forsake me. I can’t stress this enough, the importance and centrality of the Scriptures for a church. However, and this is true of almost every church I’ve been to, while in theory, they put the Bible into the hands of the people, and they encouraged the congregation to live by it there was no continuation or application on this through the rest of the week apart from a homegroup (Acts 17:11,  Colossians 3:16).

  3. You felt God. At both churches, I regularly experienced the presence of God. Whether it was through the sermons, the sacraments, or through the people, God moved, and God made Himself known to His people. It was sanctifying, transformational and pushed me forward into the presence of God (John 17:3, 1 John 4:16).

  So what’s my point in all this?

  1. Be merciful to those without a church. Likely, they’ve never experienced the above 3 things in a church.
  2. If you’re between churches take heart, these churches exist. Genuine love for God, the Word, and for others do abound.
  3. Finding the perfect church is like drinking the perfect cup of coffee. It doesn’t exist. No matter who you talk to, they’ve always had better. Instead, start brewing it yourself.

  Posted in Scribbles | 2 Comments | Tagged Christianity, church, opinion, Spirituality

• Human

  Posted at 10:22 pm by scribblingtheology, on November 7, 2019

  

  “The man here tells us a truth that is awful – we baptise ourselves with names that are far from the only truth about ourselves.”
  ― Pádraig Ó Tuama, In the Shelter: Finding a Home in the World

  One of life’s biggest question’s is who are we? What does it mean to be human? What is our purpose in life? What is the meaning to all of this? Essential questions, unfortunately, not quickly answered.

  The Scriptures tell a story about us that starts on the first few pages of this ancient book. Humanity is made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26), from the dust of the ground, from the breath of God’s nostrils (Genesis 2:7), and from one another (Genesis 2:22). Humans were created to be like God and relate to Him by ruling over God’s creation. They were created with a connection to the earth as they were to cultivate and protect it (Genesis 2:15). Finally, they were created from one another as it is not good for anyone to be alone (Genesis 2:18). In Genesis 3, we became something less than human as we failed to be like God, and we allowed the serpent to rule over us. We became less than human as we failed to protect the Garden from evil. Then, we failed in our relationship with one another as we immediately turned to blame one another for our mistakes.

  At the Fall, something happened to humanity where we lost our identity. We don’t know who we are anymore, we don’t really understand what we’re meant to be doing because of that loss of self. So in an attempt to recover our lost sense of self, we grab anything that seems to offer an answer to the big question “who are we?” A lot of us, at least in the West, have bought into the modern cultural meta-narratives of capitalism, scientism, gender equality, and probably dozens of ideas I can’t really think of right now. Why? Because even those these in and of themselves aren’t bad, these things help us make sense of who we are yet never really give us the complete picture. Each little story or philosophical idea makes us feel safe for just a fleeting moment. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how much science discovers, whether we find peace in the Middle East or if climate change is solved tomorrow, we’d still end up feeling sense of restlessness and loss of who we’re truly meant to be.

  The Bible tells us that because we’re incapable of being human ourselves, God has to send someone who can fix that problem for us. Jesus is the perfect human. He was truly human in that He was completely like God (Colossians 1:15) He ruled over the serpent and evil (Matthew 4:1-11). He loved God and others as Himself (Matthew 22:36-40), even His enemies (Matthew 5:44). So as we’re united to Christ by His Spirit, we start to recover a real sense of who we’re all meant to be (I’m thinking the beatitudes here as an example). It’s only in Jesus that we truly begin our journey on becoming truly human, which will culminate in glory.

   

  Posted in Scribbles | 0 Comments | Tagged Christianity, Identity, love, opinion, Spirituality, The bible, Theology

• Living As Exiles

  Posted at 9:40 pm by scribblingtheology, on November 3, 2019

  

  Ay, in the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the freest among you wear freedom as a yoke hand a handcuff. – The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran

  Just a small reflection…

  A strange reality lays deeply entrenched within the Christian spirit. Exile. What does it mean to be in exile? A person who has been estranged from their homeland, wandering the deserts of that is this world in search of rest. For the Christian, we walk to-and-fro not yet settled in the world as this present age is not our home. This age still ruled by the invisible forces that ensnare and capture the hearts of the unaware and the proud. They worship at the feet of bronze and gold, yet the Christian wanders evermore in worship as his God carries him along the path of righteousness. The Christian brushes his hand against stone and wood as he knows what this world will become – new. Creation is brimming with potential as it groans for its Painter to stroke His brush against the canvas of life once more as He brings everything to a glorious rest. There will be a new creation, a new day to come, yet it is still a ways off. In the meantime “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Peter 2:11). The deserts are dry, harsh and unforgiving. Yet, they offer sanctuary to the unwise as they seducee the imprudent traveller into a false rest, and the darkness yet again binds them to servitude. Death crouches among the dunes, but you must rule over it, dear reader.

  Each one of us goes through our own personal exile. Disappointment, heartbreak, tragedy and our own trials and tribulations. Each one naturally drives us into solitude and brokenness, but God uses them and moulds us into who we are meant to be. He makes us truly human through our most human experiences. For now, we wander, growing, becoming and never settling. We live as exiles separated from our real home while strangely walking through it.

  “Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
      and do not lean on your own understanding.
  In all your ways acknowledge him,
      and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6).

  The sun has risen at last, and Paul has instructed his hearers to live in light of that new day –  Yet The Sun Will Rise, N.T. Wright

  Posted in Scribbles | 0 Comments

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