Truth Part 1

Something struck me when I was re-reading my last post. It isn’t a full thought–not really, but it was profound enough that I though it deserved a post–maybe one that I can expand on later.

If God is always right and disagreement with Him is sin, then why does He value our freedom to disagree (both with Him and each other) so very, very much?

And the parallel question… If condemnation comes upon those who sin against God, and God values our ability to disagree with him, then a paradox has been reached and I have evicted myself (or at least my thought) from reality.

Further complicating the picture, if God loves us all perfectly, then how can He destroy those among us whom He calls evil?

Obviously there are errors in all of those statements.

The first question assumes that disagreement with God is sin.
The second question assumes both that the reason God condemns people is that they disagree with him and that condemnation is somehow a negative thing.
The third question assumes that it is not loving to destroy something.

At some point I would love to explore these thoughts further, but what struck me just now was the re-realization that there is a great synergy between everything God has created and does. God is the ultimate pattern-thinker, and He has incorporated principles into the way He created the world that are so simple, so compact, that we cannot express or understand them, yet so expansive that they serve as structure for all of creation.

This is what I call a Truth.

Light AND Salt

Disagreement is not hatred. Judgment is not condemnation.

1. “Don’t Judge Me, Man!”

I am getting unspeakably sick of the judgment-phobia that our society wears on its sleeve that is infecting how most people, even most Christians, approach society.

The latest example that caught my eye was indirectly related to the hullabaloo about Chick-fil-A. It was this quote:

“Christians go WAY out of their way to “hate the sin”–i.e., by voting against gay marriage, voting against civil unions, voicing their angst about gay people adopting children (just to list a few). Is it possible that Christians lose the ability to truly “love the sinner” because they’re so busy “hating the sin”? Do Christians put anywhere near the energy into “loving the sinner” as they do “hating the sin”?”

Every time I read that, it makes me feel a little sicker to my stomach. Why? Well that takes some explaining. On the surface, that paragraph is thoughtful, helpful, cautionary… and totally misses a huge part of what it means to be a Christian.

Taking from the example of Christ, we see, indeed, that He loved the people He came in contact with. He was marvelously, wonderfully forgiving and gentle. He forgave everything from adultery to a life spent thieving. This is one side of the story.

As Christians we are called, not to blind acceptance and forgiveness, but to LOVE.

In love, Christ called one of his closest disciples Satan, with such a sharp rebuke that it must have nearly crushed Peter’s spirit. Why? Because Peter was, misguidedly, trying to be encouraging. (Seem a bit extreme?) This same Christ absolutely RAILED against the generation of people in which he lived. He didn’t say “Oh you mean and unfriendly pharisees” or “oh you unloving and hateful government.” Christ said “Oh, you wicked and adulterous generation!”

Christ, the most loving and forgiving person in history, who forgave even the people who put him to death (something that I personally question whether I would be able to do, if it came right down to it) WAS NOT AFRAID TO CALL WICKEDNESS BY ITS NAME AND REBUKE IT.

In regard to this particular example: the Bible says that homosexuality is an abomination. Sit and consider that word for just a second. Homosexuality is an abomination before God. That is a heavy word. Trying to put that statement into other words is difficult because in English no word is sacred–you can use just about anything lightly if you want to. That word is not used lightly in this case. Homosexuality makes God sick to his stomach.

As a Christian and a citizen of the USA, I have not just a right but a responsibility to call it like it is–that is what it takes to build and preserve a free society. I HAVE to call homesexuality an abomination before God and the world.

When I was going to college, I had a friend who was gay. Yes, he really was a friend. Yes he really was gay. (He even tried to convince me that I was gay at one point–I’m the guy you could use to straighten lazers.) At first, this friend hid the fact that he was gay. He didn’t want me to pass judgment on him. I suspected anyway, and one time I overheard him talking to another friend (they didn’t realize I was in the room) about the fact that he was a homosexual. It was a bit of an uncomfortable situation, but it gave me an amazing opportunity.

I told my friend that yes, I had suspected he was gay, and no it didn’t change anything. I still considered him a friend. I still cared about him and I wasn’t going to reject him. …At the same time, I also told him that I disagreed with that choice (we had to argue about whether it was genetic lifestyle, or a choice at all–of course). I told him that I thought it was wrong and that he was seriously hurting himself by living that way. (And he was. His life was a mess in every sense of the word.) …Aren’t those the people who need our love most? …Aren’t those the people who need the TRUTH most?? My friend was, in a sense, the epitome of my calling as a Christian.

I seriously doubt that I changed his mind, but that was never my purpose. In that regard, at most I planted a seed, but I do hope that maybe God was able to shine a little light into his life that day when he realized that I could see how messed up he was and love him regardless–because THAT was the message I sent that day when I told him that I thought he was wrong and I loved him anyway.

What lies at the center of that incident, though, wasn’t just the light of love. It was also the salt of truth.

The majority of our society is afraid to deal with hard issues. We are afraid to rock the boat. We are afraid of the truth, sometimes for what it is and sometimes because of the rejection or hurt it may bring against us when we stand up and speak it. …The majority of society is afraid to be the salt, and when a few people stand up and prove that they can be salt, that majority is offended.

I will have none of it.

It is my responsibility–my CALLING as a Christian–to judge righteous judgments and to speak the truth. Always.

2. “I hope the gays go hungry.”

I hadn’t planned to go over this side of things, but in the course of writing this post, another article and its corresponding attitude were brought to my attention… And to really bring the point of what I’m saying into focus, I saw that I needed to bring the flip side of judgment to the forefront. This one was written by a LGBT employee of Chick-fil-A. Here’s a paragraph from the article:

“The people I work alongside kept going on and on about how powerful it was to be part of such a righteous movement, and how encouraged they were to know that there were so many people who agree with Dan Cathy. They went on at great length about how it was wrong not just for gays to marry, but to exist. One kid, age 19, said ‘I hope the gays go hungry.'”

Personally, I wonder if the self-rightous fool who made that statement has any idea that he isn’t a Christian?

I daresay, Christ might ask forgiveness for that 19-year-old fool, but would He think of that boy ANY differently than He would the poor woman who had to be exposed to the boy’s misrepresentation of all that Christ stood for? Actually I think He would. He would put that boy (A man by most societies’ reckoning) in the same category as the pharisees, whose sin was pride. …At least the 19-year-old didn’t have the authority the pharisees did (something a good many “church” leaders can’t say, even while they indulge themselves–granted more subtly–in the same unthinking venom). It was the responsibility of every adult Christian in earshot to answer that fool according to his folly and I’m pretty sure they didn’t.

What’s my point?

My point is that there is no excuse for a Christian (Christ-follower) to indulge in the kind of mindless bigotry (read hatred) that crushes the spirit of the people we are charged with lifting up into His arms. Forget excuses like “He’s just a kid” or “He got carried away.” If I know anything of the mind of God from my years of crawling along Christ’s back trail, it’s that while homosexuality may make Him sick to His stomach, he HATES arrogance. (In fact, if the people who went “on and on about how powerful it was to be part of such a righteous movement” had taken the time, in their euphoria, to look around them and lift up the obviously-frustrated and harassed person in their midst–whether they knew about her homosexuality or not, the message would have been even more powerful for good than it was for ill. Instead they, too, were too self-absorbed to see what they needed to do.)

We, as Christians, are called to love many times. We are NEVER called to hate, and the arrogance that leads to hatred is far worse than any sin against which the hatred and arrogance lash out.

3. Christianity is NOT a paradox

So we are called to judge righteous judgments, but we are told to leave the condemnation to God. It’s the same thing right?

Wrong.

Have you ever asked yourself why Christ told us to let the Father to take vengeance, even when we are right and our enemies are wrong?

I daresay, the Father who loves His children perfectly is going to give much more grace than those of us whose instinct is to one-up each other with our self-righteousness. When the time comes, though, is that perfect love going to stop Him from judging righteously or destroying wickedness? No it isn’t. The Father has promised to destroy the wicked. (That word–destroy–has a certain finality, when used in context, by the way. It’s another word that isn’t used lightly.)

It is that perfect love that gives Him the Right to condemn us when all is said and done (which begs the question of what condemnation is, but that’s another story). That means that we have exactly as much right to call condemnation down upon others than we have perfect love for them. How much right is that? None.

What we DO have a right–and a responsibility–to do is to judge righteous judgments about the society, behavior and manner of the people around us. Then we have the responsibility to aggressively stand up for the things that are right. This is what it means to be salt.

We also have the responsibility to love the people around us. This doesn’t mean accepting their bad behavior. It means not rejecting them because of that behavior. It means giving them emotional and mental support to overcome their problems, and not being so self-absorbed that we can’t see that others have problems. This is what it means to be light.

As a follower of Christ, I have a responsibility to be both salt and light. Not one or the other.

Final thoughts:

Most rants and raves are a reaction to something. Most of what drives us in life, especially when we come up against something that we think of as an enemy (such as growing up in a restrictive home, dealing with injustice in other people or forces like the government, etc), is just such a reaction. …Usually a reaction that’s based in a desire to fix what we see as a problem. (Often driven to the point where it’s a NEED to fix the problem.)

Many times, that reaction carries the pendulum (that pendulum being us many times) too far in the opposite direction. As Christians, it is our responsibility to judge righteous judgments–in essence, to get past the reaction and see God’s truth–then to speak that truth. Getting caught up in a reaction to what we see as being wrong is setting us to follow the same pattern as the boy who hoped that gays were hungry that day.

In the interest of transparency, I think it only fair to say that this post was motivated by my own reaction to the “judgment-phobia” of our culture. I can only hope that, in stopping to think about the situation, I made righteous judgments, both about what our culture is and about what it should be. Reaction is a great motivator, but a poor fellow for judgment.

I’d also like to muse a bit (as a sort of post-script) on the idea that judging righteous judgments does not need to set us at odds with one another as Christians. …One of the most difficult parts of life is getting past the point where disagreeing with someone makes them an enemy and to the point where that makes them a valuable friend. Another of my friends in college was an asatru (a worshipper of the norse Gods) and throughout my life, it has been with friends like him who I have had some of the most challenging, interesting, and useful discussions of my life. We are still friends. Granted he isn’t a Christian, but if I can disagree profitably with him, how much more should that be true of brothers and sisters?

Something that I didn’t want to complicate the above thoughts with but which, really, was the whole basis of my post was the simple fact that our society has degenerated to the point where disagreement is considered hateful and saying that someone is wrong is hate speech.

…And THERE are two subjects worth exploring sometime…
1. Freedom: the bedrock of the reality in which we live
2. The incalculable value of disagreement

The First Principle

1. Any belief system must be based on faith. (All thought must have premise.)

Faith is simply a confidence or trust in something. Whether this is faith that what we see and taste and touch is actually real and is truly the way we perceive it to be, or whether that is faith in a being we are unable to see or touch, it is still a trust we cannot verify.
Likewise, any idea or thought must have something upon which it is built. No idea is self-sustaining, and therefore all reasoning must be circular reasoning, based upon some premise, which “proves” itself (or is self-evident).

This principle is difficult to prove even logically, much less materially, specifically because of… well… itself. To make it clear what this means, however, take the words “belief” and “faith” and all their connotations and throw them out the proverbial window. Instead, go with the second part of the statement, namely, All thought must have premise (which should be a tautology–a statement that is obviously true.)

Assuming for a few paragraphs that you don’t consider it a tautology, let’s examine. (If you’re already with me, then don’t expect to get anything new out of most of this post. Feel free to read on, but most of the post is for those who have never really thought through what a “premise” is. Try rejoining me at the last header if you get bored.)

Take the most obvious fact you can think of. A common (though foolish) example is “The sky is blue.” Now ask yourself “Why?” or “What caused this?” …The point here is to realize that “the sky is blue” is NOT a tautology. (In fact, the sky is blue because of the way that light refracts through air.) Now, ask yourself, “Why?” or, again, “What caused this?” Take any statement you like and ask those questions until you come to a standstill. At this point, you don’t have many options. The first option, “Well, that’s just the way it is” doesn’t really count.

Why doesn’t it count? Dig deeper. Unpack the statement just a bit. “Well, that’s just the way it is” is just another way of saying “This is the basic nature of reality. It acts this way because it IS this way.” …which begs the question “What (or Who) made reality behave as it does?” …Now you’ve got three possible answers. One is intellectually dishonest. The other two are functionally the same.

The First Answer

The intellectually dishonest answer is “I CAN NOT know what caused it or how it was caused so don’t bother asking.” …This is the essence of agnosticism. If this is where the train stops for you, then I have another tautology for you, namely. You are not capable of understanding everything there is to understand.

You’ve essentially just stated that you have learned you are in conflict with the nature of the universe and you don’t want to learn or grow any longer. If this is the case, then you have just pronounced yourself intellectually dead. (I have observed that one of the great purposes of humanity is curiosity and learning, and that if our curiosity were ever fully satisfied, our minds would wither and die.)

There are two possible choices at this point.
First: Decide that it’s worthwhile to learn what you can, even though you can’t know it all, and go on to answer two (which is probably your answer anyway, if you are honest with yourself).
Second: Decide that “You can’t know so it’s not worth asking.” …In other words, “I’m putting my head down here in the sand where it’s safe. Go away.”

The Second Answer

So, we’ve just been asking the question, “What (or Who) made reality behave as it does?”

The first LEGITIMATE answer is “I don’t know.” …Which, again, isn’t really the end of the chain. Instead, ask the only question left, “How do you know that reality behaves this way?”

At this point, we’re left with another chain of logic. It probably goes something like this: “How do you know?” “Well, because science says so.” “How does science know?” “Because scientists tested it and found it to be so.” “How do you know they did?” (Which, not coincidentally, has the same answer as “How do they know their results were true?”) “Because I saw, heard, read, felt, smelled, tasted, learned, etc. that it was so.”

And so, the first of two end results to any such (intellectually honest) chain of logic is, “Because I trust what my senses tell me. They tell me that this is the nature of reality.”

Good. Now for the man on the other side of the religious fence.

The Third Answer

Again, the question is “What (or Who) made reality behave as it does?”

The second legitimate answer is, “It was created to be this way by some ultimate force (Probably God or a god). I believe that this is true.”

Again, good.

So what’s the point?

So far so good. We have two possible answers.
One: “I trust what my senses tell me. This is the nature of reality.”
Two: “God created it this way. This is how it is.”

OK. Fine. Now prove it.

Uhhhhhhhh………….. /facepalm

So what are we left with, really?

We’re left saying “Trust me” or “Trust God.” Either way, aside from the simple fact that we believe it to be so, there is no possible way to logically prove anything in the world to someone who does not accept the same premise we do. (And the reason that “Trust God” people seem to argue with each other so much more than “Trust me” people is because usually there is more common ground to the way two people see the world than to the way two people see God.)

So really, what we have is two groups of people. One argues that we should trust our senses first. The other argues that we should trust God (or a god or gods or some other mystical force) first and our senses second. We start from two different premises, but both require that we trust something in order to arrive at any conclusion in the world.

No. What we have is as many groups of people as we have people, because (trust me) EVERYBODY is going to see SOMETHING about their premise a little differently than everybody else does. We’re lucky that we can agree on anything at all.

What does all this mean?

Well, first off, the above chain of logic was what originally convinced me that every belief system must be based on some sort of faith, whether that is faith in what we believe or faith in what we see and touch. We still trust that it is true.

The parallel concept, (that every thought must have a premise) also works off the same chain of reasoning. (Even if that premise is “Because I thought it.”) Most people seem to be able to agree with this concept more readily, partly because it seems so obvious and partly because most people are not emotionally invested in philosophical abstracts the same way they are invested in whatever they have faith in.

Yes, even you atheists… You might as well just get used to calling it what it is, even if you don’t like the connotations. I’ve defined all my terms. You don’t have to be afraid of me poking you in the eye and laughing because you’ve somehow admitted that you have “faith.” One thing I try to never do is hold people in contempt.

So where do we go from here?

Personally, I learned three very important lessons from this.

First: Respect peoples’ right to have their opinion, even if you don’t agree with it. Learn as much as you can about their premises and their conclusions, and about where the fault in their logic lies. Share your view. If you can, shake their hand and part friends.

Second: Know what your OWN premises are before you go running your mouth. This doesn’t just apply to what you have faith in. This is the basis of everything I do in life. This is the basis of how I make every single decision I make. The best way to avoid making an ass of yourself is to be sure that you know not just what you’re talking about, but why. An added bonus: you’ll know how to explain the why if somebody should ask.

Third: What to have faith in is the most important decision you will ever make. Once you’ve made that decision, everything else can be logically attained. What you choose to have faith in will determine everything about your life. Everyone who lives from a basic philosophy rather than social or emotional gestalt makes that decision.