True, but....

I recently heard a radio preacher use the word antinomy.  It must be a technical word because I have never heard it used in the way he used it.  I am familiar (from my Christian Reconstructionist days) with the word antinomian, meaning someone who rejects the binding nature of the law of God (for a variety of different reasons), but the sense in which it was used on the radio was closer to the definition I found in Merriam Websters dictionary...."a contradiction between two apparently equally valid principles, a fundamental and apparently unresolvable conflict or contradiction."  The speaker was referring to some of the mysteries we commonly hold in our study of the scripture, free will versus divine sovereignty, God is love versus the wrath of God, created in the image of God versus total corruption, and others like those.

We do not naturally feel drawn to such things because we have been drilled that there is absolute truth, that this absolute truth is knowable by revelation, and that this revelation is given to us in the written Bible.  Thus we have the common proverb "God says it, I believe it, that settles it."  But when God says, or does, or shows forth two things that in themselves are true but which are the opposite of each other, then we are forced into the mental and verbal gymnastics that fill even the best of commentaries.  And the argument that these are just two sides of the same coin is an analogy that falls short in my estimation, because anyone who has won or lost a bet on a coin flip knows that which side of the coin lands up takes precedence over the side that is down.  It is that very coin flip that has split arminianism from calvinism, or universalists from fundamentalist.

I don't have much more to comment on this, nor do I remember much of how the radio preacher dealt with the apparent antinomy he had in mind.  I merely think we would be better served if more of our teachers would dare to admit that they do not have a clue as to how two characteristically opposite truths can be true at the same time.  It would be much more honest than cobbling together a system of intricate verbal arguments that seem to me to be nothing but a house of cards waiting for a stray breeze to scatter them.  Let's accept the fact that our "professionals" cannot really adequately explain the tensions in Christian revelation and living to us, and let us seek to live our lives well in the moment, trusting to the one who holds our souls in His hand.

What Matters Most?

Last post for today as I finally get through the list of random thoughts and questions I constantly jot down in a little notebook in my pocket.  Today's question sounds a lot like others I have asked, but with its own particular twist.  "What matters most, that we believe, or that we love?"  You can see where this is going.  It cuts right to the heart of that lasting struggle between truth and mercy.  But why should such a struggle even occur in the Church of Jesus Christ?  Why does it seem like the latest trend within the churches in my geographic region is a return to legalism based on an absolute (meaning our version is right) truth and building walls where there ought to be none?  Suddenly their version of Christianity does not seems so much like good news as in "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me for He has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free."

Truth is a bludgeon, no one can stand before Moses when he starts swinging those tablets.  But Jesus came for freedom's sake and in Him mercy meets truth on an even plane, the righteous demands of a holy God embrace peace in a holy union.  That is good news, much better than the standard fare of hoop jumping or dogma collecting that is common in so many churches.  For the record, it matters most to me that I love even when it conflicts inside of me with what I believe is the truth in any matter.  I guess I'd rather give account before God that I loved too much instead of that I believed zealously.

What's the Point?

I used to think that church on Sunday sometimes was uneventful at best.  The people are great, but the entire congregation is stuck in a confederation that is 50 or 60 years old and no longer fits their current demographics, and they have inherited a liturgy that is sacrosanct and not easy to change.  So there is a lot of up and downs in the pews, and 200 year old songs stuck here and there, and forms that can never be wavered from.  It makes one think "What would happen if the Holy Spirit really did show up as everyone prays and blew wherever He chose to do so?"  But there is the benefit of reflection, both inward and Godward, and I get my best questions in the pews, rarely answers, just many, many questions.  And I find that the closer I get to asking the right questions, the closer I feel I am getting to laying hold of who God is, who I am because of Him, and what my life is intended to amount to.

So last week's questions included this one.  What is a better starting point for trying to live the Christian life, absolute truth or sincere doubt?  Anything needs a foundation to build on and I have always been told that the truth of God's word was the very best foundation for my life.  And because it was my foundation I defended it to any length necessary, because if the foundation starts to get shaky, so does what is built on it.  But I found, as I have aged and journeyed, that when people exhort you to build your life on the solid rock of God's word they usually have an implied version of interpreting God's word that they are foisting wholesale on you.  And that is when good solid granite gets mixed in with cheap brick to fill in those inconvenient areas, and that leads to a foundation with gaps, weak spots, places where water tends to seep in.  So I ask the question again, what is a better starting point?  Should we cling to our version of absolute truth and defend it to the death, often against common sense or the witness of life itself?  Or should we have the decency and honesty to say, "I don't know" and come to God with the prayer of the honest man who said "Lord, I believe, but would you help my me where I cannot believe"?  My life has tended to follow the latter path.  By now I should have amassed a wondrous amount of wisdom but instead I have a notebook of questions that one by one I wrestle with.  Some I bring to resolution, others I set aside for a time.  The sad fact is that is is far easier to learn something right the first time then to have to unlearn something that habit and time have reinforced.  Renovations, rebuilding, correcting structural defects are always more expensive in terms of time, resources, and energy.  But I've stayed the course this far and I don't intend to abandon the journey.  Rather fixing my eyes on Jesus, I press forward.  He is the one that started what faith I have inside me and He is the only one that can bring it to any fulfillment.