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I tire of life. Quite often, actually. My allegiance is to my God and my King, and my citizenship is to another country; the trials of this temporary home feel far too permanent. The visible community that serves to foreshadow an invisible one does its best to offer hope and comfort, yet tends to fall tragically short. Answers are rote and routine in nature, paling in comparison with the weight of the world we are often asked to bear.
When the church uses common thoughts and phrases, exhorting us to persevere in God’s grace, trust in His wisdom, and have faith He will deliver us, my soul yearns for the divine truth and reality undergirding these cliché responses. My entire being aches for His Spirit’s illuminating glow on my heart and mind. In desperation I wonder: What is faith? What does it mean to trust in that which I cannot perceive with these five senses? How do I live coram deo, when I must rely on things unseen to do so? “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1 ESV)
Faith is altogether essential to the Christian life, yet seems far too difficult to conceive of. In what follows, we will embark on a discussion of the true construction of faith: What is its nature? What is its object? What are its implications? In examining the constitution of faith, I hope to present a better understanding of one of the more fundamental concepts to the Christian experience.
Aiding us in our exploration will be two individuals who, at first glance, have little in common: SÆren Kierkegaard and J. Gresham Machen. While Kierkegaard died in 1855 and Machen wasn’t born until 1881, their experiences in life were remarkably similar. Kierkegaard is well known for being the “Socratic Gadfly” of Copenhagen, and often was scathingly critical of the cultural Christianity – or Christendom as he called it – that plagued Denmark during his lifetime. Similarly, Machen fought long and hard against the Liberalism that took up a dominant position of influence during his lifetime. As a result of their viewpoints, both Kierkegaard and Machen were heavily criticized in some way or another; Kierkegaard was unceremoniously abused in the Corsair Affair and roundly criticized for his attack on the Danish National Church, and Machen was expelled from his denomination outright.
Despite having numerous enemies while living, both Kierkegaard and Machen have been widely celebrated posthumously for their work. Kierkegaard is regarded by many as the father of modern existentialism, and Machen’s work as a New Testament scholar and staunch opponent of liberalism renders his work valuable to the believer even today.
Both Kierkegaard and Machen wrote extensively on the topic of faith. In what follows we shall examine both Kierkegaard’s and Machen’s views on faith. We will see that Machen – as a New Testament scholar – is primarily concerned with the nature, construction, and content of faith. Kierkegaard – as a philosopher – is more concerned with the implications of faith for the individual.
First published in 1925, What is Faith? is a collection of lectures delivered by Machen at Grove City College. More a New Testament scholar than a philosopher – or even a “theologian” for that matter – Machen’s penchant for practical exposition of the scriptures is on display in What is Faith? His lectures were given in the climate of intense sociological upheaval, and Machen was concerned over the anti-intellectual tendencies in society at that time. “Facts, in the sphere of education, are having a hard time.”[1] This tendency expressed itself in religious circles as liberalism. “…the growth of ignorance in the Church, the growth of indifference with regard to the simple facts recorded in the Bible, all goes back to a great spiritual movement, really skeptical in its tendency, which has been going forward during the last one hundred years…”[2]
Machen was ardently opposed to this tendency, and did not want the Christian’s spiritual existence to be based on mystical leanings and uninformed perspectives. “Theology…is a setting forth of those facts upon which experience is based.”[3] To ascertain such facts as they lead the believer to faith, Machen thought it prudent to turn to our most trustworthy source on the topic, the Bible “At any rate, the Bible as a whole, taking prophecy and fulfillment together, is the supreme textbook on the subject of faith.”[4]
Foreshadowing claims of a postmodern generation that disavows allegiance to propositional statements, Machen was sure at the outset to clarify the specific nature of faith. “The Persons in whom according to the Bible faith is particularly to be reposed are God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ…it is impossible to have faith in a person without having knowledge of the person; far from being contrasted with knowledge, faith is founded upon knowledge.”[5] Is faith then merely a propositional knowledge? Surely not, for faith must not be comprised solely of knowledge, but assent to the knowledge contained therein. “In the first place, religion is here made to depend absolutely upon doctrine, the one who comes to God must not only believe in a person, but he also must believe that something is true; faith is here declared to involve acceptance of a proposition.”[6]
Machen relies on Hebrews 11: 6, “And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him,” to orchestrate an ordo salutis of sorts pertaining to faith in God. “In order to trust God or to have communion with Him we must at least believe that He exists.”[7] Machen is at pains to show, rather than subscribing entirely to one extreme that faith is entirely knowable to the human intellect or the other that faith is purely a mystical experience, faith is a mixture of both. “…the author of the Epistle of the Hebrews insists upon the primacy of the intellect; he bases religion squarely upon truth. He does not, of course, reject that immediate and mysterious contact of the soul with God which is dear to the mystic’s heart; for that immediate contact of the soul with God is a vital part of all religion worthy of the name.”[8]
However, Machen is not content with an abstract faith in an impersonal god – akin to Deism. Machen is concerned with a faith in a redeeming God who loves and saves. “In the Bible, then, it is not merely God as creator who is the object of faith, but also, primarily, God as Redeemer from sin…In Christ the redeeming work of God became visible; it is Christ, therefore, very naturally, who is ordinarily represented as the object of faith.”[9] And in having Christ as the object of our faith, there are again propositions to which we must adhere; things we must know. “For one thing, we need to know that He is alive; we need to know, therefore, about resurrection. And then we need to know how it is that He can touch our lives; and that involves a knowledge of the atonement and of the way in which He saves us from our sin.”[10]
Machen is clear to delineate three very important things regarding faith in Christ so as not to confuse the reader. First, the knowledge that precedes faith does not have to be exhaustive in any way. “…faith may come first, on the basis of very elementary knowledge, and then fuller knowledge may come later.”[11] Second, faith is intended to be simple and – as Christ Himself announced – childlike. “The faith of the modern pragmatist is a very subtle, sophisticated, unchildlike thing; what is really childlike is the faith that is founded upon knowledge of the one in whom trust is reposed.”[12] And thirdly, Machen is sure to re-affirm that through faith we receive all Christ has to offer, and through no works of our own; our knowledge cannot earn us faith. “What mars the simplicity of the childlike faith which Jesus commends is not an admixture of knowledge, but an admixture of self-trust. To receive the kingdom as a little child is to receive it as a free gift without seeking in slightest measure to earn it for one’s self.”[13]
One might be tempted to posit that in light of this, faith is solely passive and the believer does nothing but allow faith to be exercised to him, or at the very least on his behalf. In one sense it appears this is accurate. “Faith, in other words, is not active but passive; and to say that we are saved by faith is to say that we do not save ourselves but are saved only by the one in whom our faith is reposed; the faith of man presupposes the sovereign grace of God.”[14] However, it is accurate only to the extent that Machen wants to show that the believer cannot earn faith or achieve it, but instead can only respond to God. “Thus the beginning of the Christian life is not an achievement, but an experience…”[15]
Machen is quick to anticipate the obvious question when faith is painted in this picture of passivity. “But if the beginning of the Christian life is thus not an achievement but an experience, if a man is not really active, but passive, when he is saved, if faith is to be placed in sharp contrast with works, what becomes of the ethical character of the Christian religion…”[16] And in light of this question, Machen turns to the New Testament to find differing uses of the word “faith” and their different implications.
“But if the faith regarded insufficient by James is different from the faith commended by Paul, so also the works commended by James are different from the works regarded inefficacious by Paul. Paul is speaking of the works of the law, he is speaking of works that are intended to merit in order that God’s favour may be earned; James on the other hand is speaking of works like Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac that are the result of faith and show that faith is real faith.”[17]
In other words, the works that Paul speaks of are impossible for the believer, because they are an attempt to earn the gracious favor of God, while the works James references are the outward signs of the inwardly renewed life, the life of the believer that has been renewed by placing his faith in the saving and sanctifying power of Jesus Christ.
Admittedly, Machen does a great service to the believer in so clearly laying out the constitution of faith. However, for the struggling Christian, the believer who desires to know God deeply and intimately, his answers might come dangerously close to another cliché, wooden definition of faith – one that is devoid of passion, intensity, or deep-seated meaning. There is still the desire to move from the theoretical to the practical – from the conceptual premises of faith to the actual implications therein. With this mind we will for the time being turn our conversation to the second of our guides in this journey, SÆren Kierkegaard.
Kierkegaard’s literary legacy is voluminous to say the least, and scattered across dozens of published works and thousands of journal entries are countless references to the concept of faith. We shall do our best to limit our discussion to only the most pertinent mentions of faith, and those that serve our greater context of comparing Machen’s and Kierkegaard’ thoughts on faith.
When discussing Kierkegaard on faith, what generally comes to mind first is his notion of “the leap”. We must point out that Kierkegaard never truly discusses a leap of faith, but more accurately the leap to faith. “He does, however, clearly and often refer to the concept of a leap (Spring) and to the concept of a transition (Overgang) that is a qualitative (qvalitativ) or, alternatively, a meta-basis eis allo genos (transition from one genus to another)…”[18] In other words, Kierkegaard does not discuss a leap of faith, where one employs faith as a tool or instrument, but more accurately a leap to faith, where one undergoes, “qualitative transformation to religiousness and to faith in an eminent sense, namely, Christian religiousness.”[19]
Kierkegaard seems to endorse – as Machen might say – not the manipulation of faith to procure an achievement of Christian living, but rather sees faith as the vehicle by which the Christian lives his life. “Can there be a transition from quantitative qualification to a qualitative one without a leap? And does not the whole of life rest in that?”[20] We began this discussion by wondering how to live a life of faith despite the fact that faith is rooted in hope and things unseen. It is becoming clear that living in faith includes wrestling with the tension of trust that which do not see. According to Kierkegaard, the choices made while existing in this tension are life defining.
Through this concept of defining oneself through choice or action we find the perfect context in which we can return to our conversation of Abraham and Isaac, whom Kierkegaard deals with in one of his most well known works, the multi-faceted Fear and Trembling. Abraham is the perfect case study for Kierkegaard because of that precarious predicament atop Mt. Moriah where Abraham gave Isaac up for dead through a divinely instructed sacrifice, only to have God prevail in His faithfulness and return Isaac to Abraham.
In Stages on Life’s Way Kierkegaard has separated life into three stages, or spheres. “There are three existence-spheres: the esthetic, the ethical, and the religious…The ethical sphere is only a transition sphere…The esthetic sphere is the sphere of immediacy, the ethical the sphere of requirement (and this requirement is so infinite that the individual always goes bankrupt), the religious the sphere of fulfillment…”[21] Kierkegaard goes on to explain that this fulfillment is not the sort to allow one achievement or accomplishment, but instead experience the fulfillment of a life of paradox, contradiction, and security. Faith has the ability to comfort despite being based on things hoped for and unseen.“…and as a consequence the religious contradiction: simultaneously to be out on 70,000 fathoms of water and yet be joyful.”[22]
In Fear and Trembling Kierkegaard uses Abraham as his point of reference to further clarify his latter two stages, the ethical and the religious, by discussing the Knight of Infinite Resignation and the Knight of Faith. The individual in the ethical stage does what is right, but he does it to appease himself, having made himself the standard. This individual is the Knight of Infinite Resignation. “The act of resignation does not require faith, for what I gain in resignation is my eternal consciousness. This is a purely philosophical movement that I venture to make when it is demanded and can discipline myself to make, because every time some finitude will take power over me, I starve myself into submission until I make the movement…”[23]
It is in this distinction that we begin to see Kierkegaard’s helpfulness in determining faith as not just something we know, but something we live. The ethical sphere of existence presents itself as that in which we live without much self-awareness. We exist to follow the rules and do that which we think is right, without consideration to a why behind the what. In the ethical sphere, what the individual would call faith is actually based on something physical and tangible, my conscience and myself. In so doing, the Knight of Infinite Resignation avoids the unknown and unseen.
Were Abraham merely the Knight of Infinite Resignation, he still would have offered up his son Isaac for sacrifice, but only because his ethical consciousness bound him to the directives of God, who commanded the sacrifice. Because the Knight of Infinite Resignation has constructed for himself an ethical system of obedience to the infinite and absurd, he will follow through on the divine’s commands. In resignation he gives up his son through sacrifice, and has lost all hope. “In ethical terms, Abraham’s relation to Isaac is quite simply this: the father shall love the son more than himself.”[24] He has no choice but to subscribe to the universal and its dictates for his life.
To the outside world, the Knight of Infinite Resignation and the Knight of Faith are identical, and only to the divine are they discernable. “Now let us meet the knight of faith on the occasion previously mentioned. He does exactly the same as the other knight did: he infinitely renounces the love that is the substance of his life, he is reconciled in pain. But then the marvel happens; he makes one more movement even more wonderful than all the others, for he says: Nevertheless I have faith that I will get her – that is, by virtue of the absurd, by virtue of that fact that for God all things are possible.”[25]
According to Kierkegaard Abraham is not the Knight of Infinite Resignation, but the Knight of Faith. The Knight of Infinite Resignation sees the ethical limit as the end of his existence with nothing beyond it. “The ethical as such is the universal, and as the universal it applies to everyone, which from another angle means that it applies at all times. It rests immanent in itself, has nothing outside itself that is its telos [end, purpose] but is itself the telos for everything outside itself, and when the ethical has absorbed this into itself, it goes no further.”[26]
As the Knight of Faith, Abraham renounces Isaac, only to know in faith that God will return Isaac to him. In faith does Abraham live, and in faith does he offer Isaac in sacrifice, knowing he will not be left wanting. He bases this on no immediate knowledge or sensation, but on faith and hope. Faith permits the individual to live beyond the limits of the universal – the structures and strictures of this present world – and instead by relation to the absurd and the absolute. Abraham subscribes not to his own ethico-moral conscience, but to a teleological suspension of the ethical.
“Faith is precisely this paradox that the single individual as the single individual is higher than the universal, is justified before it, not as inferior to but as superior – yet in such a way, please note, that is the single individual who, after being subordinate as the single individual to the universal, now by means of the universal becomes the single individual who as the single individual is superior, that the single individual as the single individual stands in an absolute relation to the absolute.”[27]
In faith Abraham suspends the universal, ethical system through his love for and devotion to the absurd and absolute – God. Abraham acted out of his absolute relation to the absolute, and not out of his duty to the universal and ethical. “Abraham’s situation is different. By his act he transgressed the ethical altogether and had a higher telos outside it, in relation to which he suspended it.”[28]
Is living in this fashion, subscribing to something above a universal ethic, dangerous? Certainly. “Without risk, no faith. Faith is the contradiction between the infinite passion of inwardness and the objective uncertainty. If I am able to apprehend God objectively, I do not then have faith; but because I cannot do this, I must have faith. If I want to keep myself in faith, I must continually see to it that I hold fast the objective uncertainty…”[29]
This leap to faith, this existence where one lives by abiding in the teological suspension of the ethical, this life depending on the balance of objective uncertainty and subjective inwardness, is a life–defining commitment. Wrestling in that tension is part of existence and is something every individual involves himself in. “The existing subject…is engaged in existing, which is indeed the case with every human being.”[30] Through the lens of Kierkegaard’s existentialism, where one is continually engaged in the process of defining one’s own existence, the leap to faith is a foundational part of this defining move. “…existence itself, the act of existing, is a striving.”[31]
One’s project in life – one’s means of defining one’s own existence – is centered on the essential knowledge that informs us. “All essential knowledge that pertains to existence, or only the knowing whose relation to existence is essential is essential knowing. Essentially viewed, the knowing that does not inwardly in the reflection of inwardness pertain to existence is accidental knowing, and its degree and scope, essentially viewed, are a matter of indifference.”[32] Living an authentic faith based on decision, then, is the project the individual must take up to find himself living an authentic existence in the face of the tension of subjectivity. “Only in subjectivity is there decision.”[33]
What then, is faith? Faith is the inward resolve to live in the face of that uncertainty. Faith relies on a type of sight that is not limited by our five senses. To live by faith, I must learn not to bemoan the fact that I cannot learn of faith through my five senses, but I must rejoice in that fact, for faith truly is the assurance of things hoped for and of things unseen. “Thus faith is not merely founded upon knowledge; but also it leads to knowledge.”[34] As knowledge, faith is not blind, but truly a means by which we are illuminated. “Faith is closely connected in the New Testament with hope; and it is contrasted in notable passages with sight.”[35] It is with the sight that faith affords do we truly see, and in seeing have hope.
In Machen we have seen what faith is, and in Kierkegaard we have seen what faith may require of the individual believer. We see that as Machen pushed for faith based on objective and propositional knowledge, Kierkegaard reminds us we will not have an exhaustive or completed knowledge of God, even if we do have a truthful knowledge of Him. Through faith we see, and through seeing we have hope. And in having hope, we are equipped to truly persevere, and we praise God that “…the Christian lives by hope.”[36]
We do not press to merely know about God. No, we press to know about God that we might know Him personally and intimately. Faith is not the achievement of knowing about God, but is the experience of truly and simply knowing Him. And in knowing Him, may we glorify Him and enjoy Him forever.
[1] Machen, J. Gresham. What is Faith? Banner of Truth Trust, Carlisle; 1991. 15.
[2] Ibid 23
[3] Ibid 32
[4] Ibid 45
[5] Ibid 46
[6] Ibid 47
[7] Machen 48
[8] Ibid 49
[9] ibid 87
[10] ibid 91-92
[11] ibid 94
[12] ibid 94
[13] ibid 95
[14] ibid 195
[15] ibid 197
[16] ibid 198
[17] ibid 204, emphasis original
[18] Ferreira, James M. Faith and the Kierkegaardian Leap in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. Hannay, Alastair and Marino, Gordon D. Cambridge University Press; New York: 1998. 207.
[19] ibid
[20] Journals and Papers, Volume I, page 110; as found in Ferrerira 207.
[21] From Stages on Life’s Way as found in: Hong, H and Hong, . ed. The Essential Kierkegaard. Princeton University Press; Princeton: 2000. 182.
[22] Ibid
[23] Hong, H and Hong E ed. Fear and Trembling, Repetition. Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1983. 48.
[24] Ibid 57
[25] Ibid 46
[26] Ibid 54
[27] Ibid 55-56
[28] Ibid 59
[29] From Concluding Unscientific Postscript, as found in The Essential Kierkegaard, 207.
[30] Kierkegaard in Concluding Unscientific Postscript as found in Bretall, Robert, A Kierkegaard Anthology. Princeton University Press; Princeton: 1946. 206.
[31] Kierkegaard in Concluding Unscientific Postscript, as found in Guignon, Charles and Pereboom, Derek. Existentialism: Basic Writings. Hackett Publishing Company, Inc.; Indianapolis: 2001. 7.
[32] Concluding Unscientific Postscript as found in The Essential Kierkegaard, 205.
[33] Ibid 206
[34] Machen 229
[35] Ibid 223
[36] Ibid 220.
As numerous as the clichés regarding the journey of life and the paths we take are, there is truth behind every one of them. From the second we wake up we have infinite choices in any number of different combinations as to where the day will take us. Sadly, this complication reaches far beyond our surface into the very depths of our existence. The things we ascribe to as our morals, ethics, and values are all part of the cacophony of choices facing us. It can be argued that the underlying foundation for all these choices that dictate how we comport ourselves to the world is our faith, whatever it may be in and however it may manifest itself.
Oswald Chambers was an evangelistic minister in England during the early 1900’s and is the well-known author of many books, including the daily devotional My Utmost for His Highest. One of the daily readings by Chambers speaks to the primacy of our personal relationship with the person of Jesus Christ. Chambers does not refer in this particular passage to one’s receiving Christ as Lord and Savior, but instead to the daily walk one must endure in order to live a life bringing honor and glory to God.
What is interesting about Chambers’ point is his emphasis on the personal aspect of this relationship, and how that influences all other areas of life. One’s personal and private daily relationship to the Ultimate above us can sometimes go neglected, misunderstood, and underestimated. Often, rather than the daily relationship, the support systems surrounding the individual are considered with too much prominence. While these are good things and a blessing from God – Bible studies, fellowships, churches – they are not the ultimate authority nor do they contain the ultimate answers; they are fallible, man-made, and part of the fallen creation. Unfortunately, society gets caught in the discourse arising from organized religious structures and is worn down before it acknowledges its need for God’s truth.
What is it about the gathered masses that make them harbingers of such untruth? Soren Kierkegaard has several views on the dynamics of individuality versus existing as part of the crowd, the implications of which reach the shallowest facets of our cultural comings and goings to the deepest and most convicting aspects of our personal faith in Jesus Christ. In The Point of View, Kierkegaard attacks the crowd as untruth and focused on time-present, the finite and the temporal; the Infinite has no place in the crowd. Through Fear and Trembling Kierkegaard delves into the intricacies of the relationship between God and Abraham and Abraham and Isaac; and thereby examines what it is for one to exist in solitary obedience to God; the knight of faith.
Kierkegaard begins by speaking to the dichotomous views on the crowd, saying that one may look to the crowd to find truth while another may avoid the crowd, for within it lays the untruth. “…even if every individual, each for himself in private, were to be in possession of the truth, yet in case they were all to get together in a crowd – a crowd to which any sort of decisive significance is attributed, a voting, noisy, audible crowd – untruth would at once be in evidence.”
Each individual in the crowd seeks after themselves and forgets about what truly matters. “Hence where there is a multitude, a crowd, or where decisive significance is attached to the fact that there is a multitude, there it is sure that no one is working, living, striving for the highest aim, but only for one or another earthly aim; since to work for the eternal decisive aim is possible only where there is one, and to be this one which all can be is to let God be the helper – the ‘crowd’ is the untruth.”
In the crowd, each individual is focused on the temporal, the here and the now as opposed to the infinite and the eternal. Material goods and earthly worries consume the individual as opposed to concern for serving and glorifying the Infinite. Man looks to his left and to his right in an attempt at finding relevance; he does not look upward. The highest aim Kierkegaard speaks to concerns a life centered around God, something only attainable through His strength flowing through His people; hence the phrase, “God be the helper.” From this miniscule statement, much is divulged pertaining to Kierkegaard’s intentions.
The individual seeks the crowd because He fears the truth God will reveal to him, he fears living a life as God has called him. In the stead of this living, breathing, dynamic relationship with his Father in heaven, the individual seeks out a man-made construct that serves him as he attempts think his way to God and relate to Him on his own terms. In this circumstance, God is nothing more than the thing placed on a pedestal to live in relation to, not have a relationship with. Conversely, God truly desires direct interaction with His children; a Helper to the needy and the Truth beyond which there is nothing else. God is the Ultimate and the Inescapable, there is a reason He cannot be comprehended by man.
Yet what is it that has frightened the individual so much that he would run from the truth – God – and instead seek a falsifiable and fallen structure that forces him into serving himself rather than allowing him to serve His Father? For this it is necessary to turn to Fear and Trembling, in which Kierkegaard examines the anxiety and tension defining the life of an individual who follows God above all other directives; even forsaking moral law for the sake of a higher one – the teological suspension of the ethical.
In the Biblical passage recounting God’s instructions to Abraham concerning the sacrifice of his long awaited only child, much is revealed about the dynamics of the trust one has when living obediently for God. Abraham is asked, contrary to all ethical, moral, and logical considerations, to take his son up to Mount Moriah and sacrifice him. In this test of the devout the particular results of living the individual life for God are made visible; the silence a true follower of God might live in and the resulting implications are made frighteningly clear.
Abraham is devoted to both God, his Father in heaven, and his son, the lone child for whom he waited so long. In the tension that exists here, between obeying his Father and attempting to preserve the life of his son, faith appears. Faith exists insofar as it calls into question human logic and reason because they are fallible and based on man’s mind; faith defies the world system that wants to define man. “…Moreover, it must be fixed in one’s memory as the highest rule, that what has been revealed to us by God is to be believed the most certain of all things; and even though the light of reason should seem most clearly to suggest something else, we must nevertheless give credence to the divine authority only, rather than to our own judgment.” It is in this tension that the individual solely seeking after God, namely Abraham in this case, is resigned to live.
First, Abraham can speak with no one about what he has been told; what can he be but insane for attempting to explain a loving God has ordered him to sacrifice the son for whom he waited one hundred years. “Humanly speaking, he is crazy and cannot make himself intelligible to anyone.” Abraham must not disclose what has been revealed to him, so he continues existing as an individual quietly resolved to obey God no matter the implications; Abraham trusts God. Now the resulting implications of said silence come into play and the reasons the individual flees his solitude for the comfort of crowd, albeit the crowd of untruth, are elucidated.
Abraham has a faith in God that he will not betray, his foundation is on God and God alone; he places faith not in man-made structures of organized religion that have been fabricated by men seeking to use God, not be used by Him. As a result of this unbreakable faith, Abraham displays no visible struggle accepting what God has to say; once God says to wait, Abraham waits. When Isaac asks where the sacrifice is, Abraham explains God will provide the sacrifice. Through his unshakable faith in the living and breathing God with whom he has a relationship, Abraham is able to successfully live the solitary life of faith in God.
Conversely, the man who flees solitude with God for the untruth is the man who panics when he cannot comprehend the wisdom of God that transcends man’s thinking; the finite cannot grasp the infinite and this scares him. The reality is that God’s ways go beyond men and call the individual to existence as a being in the world but not of the world. The individual flees because he is attempting a self-sufficient life and has not the strength to see himself through. Apart from God’s strength in him, he has no ability to survive.
The individual with no understanding of God’s calling flees it in an attempt to comprehend it, yet he flees God’s call to understand it on his own terms, and in the wake he has left God behind. The man who flees forsakes the relationship by which God will show Himself as all knowing and all powerful when he too quickly abandons the place God has put him and runs for a place of supposed clarity and understanding.
In his concluding comments to the Individuality and Subjective Truth portion of The Point of View, Kierkegaard deals specifically with this issue of knowledge, or lack thereof, and the ability to believe despite this. “The truth is precisely the venture which chooses an objective uncertainty with the passion of the infinite…But it is for this very reason that the inwardness becomes as intense as it is, for it embraces this objective uncertainty with the entire passion of the infinite.” Man cannot comprehend God, and that is His intension. Simply because humans do not see how and why God works does not mean God hasn’t got a firm grasp on His world.
The man who flees because he does not understand is missing the point; he is not supposed to understand. In the space where he is left open with no basis for belief is the space in which he flees; yet this is the very space where instead he needs to embrace that which he knows exists but cannot fathom because he knows It is larger than he. “…So the only thing that can save him is the absurd, and this he grasps by faith. So he recognizes the impossibility, and that very instant he believes the absurd; for, if without recognizing the impossibility with all the passion of his soul and with all his heart, he should wish to imagine that he has faith, he deceives himself…” The moment he realizes he cannot grasp the Infinite, he is to fall to his knees in broken desperation and cry out for God. Only through brokenness will the individual understand he is depraved and separate from God, realizing he has nothing to offer up to God of any value save for his humility and desire for God’s truth.
Yet at what point does the individual leave go of this world, and what are his intensions in finally doing so? The knight of Infinite Resignation forsakes this world because he knows he will gain it back. Through the knight’s recollection of the finite – the princess – he does not lose this world, he simply keeps it alive for himself in his mind and in his heart. “So the knight remembers everything, but precisely this remembrance is pain, and yet by infinite resignation he is reconciled with existence…This impossible however, the knight makes possible by expressing it spiritually, but he expresses it spiritually by waiving his claim to it.”
The knight of Faith looks strikingly similar to the knight of Infinite Resignation, indeed because externally they are one in the same. Both knights renounce this world and all it has to offer and look instead to things of greater importance. Where the knight of Infinite Resignation gives up this world for himself, the night of Faith gives up this world for the Infinite and Eternal, desiring not to serve himself as does the knight of Infinite Resignation, but instead to laud praises upon and glorify the Ultimate in everything he does. Only the Ultimate, as omnipotent and omniscient, truly can differ between the two; a startling reality, for is it not possible the knight of Infinite Resignation is deceived, believing he is seeking the Eternal yet still pursuing his own interests?
We return to Oswald Chambers and the personal, private, and daily relationship to the Ultimate; this relationship must be nurtured, energy dedicated to knowing the Ultimate and understanding what it is to live a life for Him and not one’s own self. Once focus is removed from the Ultimate, man embarks on a journey fulfilling only himself. Chambers often asks, “Who is on the throne, God or man?” The true romantic knows what his love desires because he cares enough to ask her what she desires; in the same way, the true knight of Faith knows enough that listening to the Ultimate is the only way to live a life in pursuit of Him.
Day by day it is a struggle to exist in relation to God who is beyond comprehension. Day by day it is impossible to exist for God when man attempts to dictate how God should relate to humans, and then attempts to live in relation to that concept on his own strength. However, there is a solution. Day by day, man has no task except to wake up and commit to weakness and humility, for only when man offers himself to God as empty will God fill him with Himself. The knight of faith lays down his claim to himself and this world, and in return he is awarded all he needs to survive; he is provided for through God. He lets go and is sustained not by self-fulfillment and turning inward, but by self-emptying and looking upward. “He resigned everything infinitely, and then he grasped everything by virtue of the absurd.”
“The knight of faith knows that to give up oneself for the universal inspires enthusiasm, and that it requires courage, but he also knows that security is to be found in this, precisely because it is for the universal.” Through man’s emptiness does God instill in him love, wisdom, and understanding; and then man has no task except to glorify God in all that he does.
Looking back from today’s vantage point, we can see Pelagian teaching – while still widely influential in certain contexts – has no place in orthodox Reformed theology. We read in the Westminster Confession of Faith:
“I. Our first parents, begin seduced by the subtlety and temptations of Satan, sinned in eating the forbidden fruit. This their sin God was pleased, according to his wise and holy counsel, to permit, having purposed to order it to his own glory. II. By this sin they fell from their original righteousness and communion with God, and so became dead in sin, and wholly defiled in all the faculties and parts of soul and body. III. They being the root of mankind, the guilt of this sin was imputed, and the same death in sin and corrupted nature conveyed to all their posterity, descending from them by original generation. IV. From this original corruption, whereby we are utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to all good, and wholly inclined to all evil, do proceed all actual transgressions. V. This corruption of nature, during this life, doth remain in those that are regenerated; and although it be through Christ pardoned and mortified, yet both itself, and all the motions thereof, are truly and properly sin. VI. Every sin, both original and actual, being a transgression of the righteous law of God, and contrary thereunto, doth, in its own nature, bring guilt upon the sinner, whereby he is bound over to the wrath of God, and curse of the law, and so made subject to death, with all miseries spiritual, temporal, and eternal.”[1]
While there is no room within orthodox Reformed theology for Pelagianism, certain circles of Christianity have embraced a form of it, known as Semi-Pelagianism. Semi-Pelagianists agreed with Augustine that the Fall happened, that Adam’s act was not isolated, and human nature was changed as a result. Semi-Pelagianists also believed that grace was necessary for salvation, as opposed to simply providing help like Pelagius taught. However, Semi-Pelagianists differed from Augustine in thinking that while humanity is so fallen that it cannot be saved apart from the grace of God, it is not so fallen that it is removed from the responsibility of accepting or rejecting God’s grace. Semi-Pelagianists taught that the human will is weakened by sin, but not enslaved to it.[2]
The Semi-Pelagianists were originally condemned at the Council of Orange in 529 AD, but their teaching can still be found alive and well in theologies that require an element – no matter how small – of human cooperation in salvation. Whereas Reformed theology affirms man is dead and unable to incline himself to the things of God in the slightest bit, others adhere to the teaching that man is merely sick and salvation is more synergistic than monergistic. “The key word is cooperation: no one can save himself but, by cooperating with the grace of God, salvation can be appropriated by anyone.”[3]
As we look back on the development of the theology of original sin, it is important to remember why we have undertaken this task in the first place: to better understand man’s origins. In doing so, we hope to provide insight and aid to those who wander in life. Ignorant to the fact that he is not created basically good, man is doomed to assume this life is the basis for ultimate reality.
And with no inkling as to his whence or his wither, man sets out in an attempt to determine the outcome of his life. He lives according to what he believes is right, true, good, and just. He also lives unaware that no matter how right, true, good, or just something appears to him, it is ultimately finitely so, and bears no eternal consequence, except to further align his path along the road to perdition.
His only recourse is an understanding of his existence in terms of his origin – his condemnation on the part of Adam – and his need for both the wholeness and the holiness Christ’s redeeming blood brings. Man was created in the image of God, Adam later tarnished that image, and man now bears it with him. This is the most basic foundation for his worldview; without understanding he is created in the image of God but exists in a depraved and fallen state – and coming to terms with all of the implications that follow from this truth – man will continue to live hopelessly lost and without purpose.
Unless man realizes his path was set for him by Adam and will only find resolution in Jesus Christ, he will continue to engage in a life concerned with little more than fulfilling his own wants and desires. His disabling at the fall changed nothing in his obligation, man is still held accountable for living a life pleasing and glorifying to God, whether he recognizes it or not.
[1] WCF, Chapter 6
[2] Sproul 25
[3] Allen, David. Semi-Augustinians. In Christian History. 2000 19.3: 32.
As we move through the generations following the Pelagian controversy[1], the next individual of note to deal with this concept of original sin in any exhaustive fashion is Thomas Aquinas, his Summa Theologica devoting several questions to the issue of original sin, its origins, and its effects. The writings and teachings of Aquinas became foundational in the development of Catholic Church doctrine as we know it today.
In Aquinas we see something of a middle ground between Pelagius and Aquinas, both of whom he references in his Summa: “According to the Catholic Faith we are bound to hold that the first sin of the first man is transmitted to his descendants, by way of origin. For this reason children are taken to be baptized soon after their birth, to show that they have to be washed from some uncleanness. The contrary is part of the Pelagian heresy, as is clear from Augustine in many of his books.”[2]
Aquinas taught that man was indeed fallen – as Augustine did – but differed from Augustine in that salvation was more a cooperation of efforts than a monergistic act. According to the Summa, original sin is the absence of original justice, or a privation.[3] However, to limit Aquinas’ teaching on original sin to only privation would be incorrect. Man was originally created to seek the highest good and practice the three virtues of faith, hope, and love. In falling, Adam lost the ability to please God through the pursuit of these aims in addition to losing his original righteousness.[4]
“…the natural good which sin diminishes is the natural inclination to virtue. Now the reason why man inclines to virtue is that he is rational.”[5] This corrupted nature – consisting of the negative loss of righteousness (and resultant inability to fulfill the virtues of faith, hope, and love) and positive turning toward lesser goals (the lesser virtues) – was transmitted to all of Adam’s posterity.[6]
Whereas Pelagius taught that man was equally and absolutely free by nature of his own free will to pursue evil or good and Augustine taught man was absolutely dead and incapable of pursuing good, Aquinas teaches that man has only lost the power to pursue faith, hope, and love. Man is still able to attain what Aquinas termed the four natural virtues: prudence, justice, courage, and self-control. These qualities enable man to experience some degree of earthly good, but ultimately still preclude him from salvation.[7]
Aquinas’ teaching here is monumental for the Catholic Church, setting the parameters for the administration of the sacraments. Man’s restoration to the presence and acceptability of God is possible only through the free and unmerited grace of God.[8] However, while this grace is unmerited, it still must be implemented and applied by the individual; Aquinas taught the necessity of cooperating grace. While Christ won grace for the sinner, the church alone is permitted to impart it through the sacraments. Assisted by this special grace, man is capable of doing works that please God and gain merit.[9]
Aquinas also sides with Augustine and against Pleagius in regards to transmission of original sin; Aquinas agreed with Augustine that Adam’s sinful and rebellious act was not an isolated incident. “Original sin, in the Thomistic view, is rather the state of spiritual disorderliness into which Adam was cast as a result of his actual sin, and because of this fallen state constituted the basis for all human existence – as opposed to the sins pertaining strictly to an individual which are not inherited by his children – the first parents bore their children into it.”[10] Aquinas himself said, “Original sin in one man or another is nothing other than that which extended to him, in his origin, from the sin of the first parent.”[11]
[1] We only pass over Semi-Pelagianism until later in our investigation
[2] Sum. llallae. Q. 81, Art. 1.
[3] Ibid Q. 82, Art. 1.
[4] Walker 246.
[5] Sum. llallae Q. 85, Art. 2.
[6] Walker, 246.
[7] Ibid
[8] Ibid
[9] Shelly, Bruce. Church History in Plain Language. Thomas Nelson Publishers, Nashville; 1995. 201-202.
[10] Cohen 505
[11] from De Malo 4.2, as found in Cohen, 505.
In contrast to Pelagius, St. Augustine held to a much higher concept of Adam before the fall, a deeper view of the Fall itself, and a greater appreciation for God’s grace. “Augustine is in no doubt that man is totally depraved. Apart from the grace of God man is lost; his own best efforts will not avail to rescue his soul.”[1]
Augustine’s view of Adam before the fall is generally expressed in the Latin, “posse peccarre, possee non peccarre,” or, “able to sin, able not to sin.” In other words, man was created good with the ability to do good, possessed free will, and was endowed with the possibility of not sinning and immortality.[2] Man possessed reason, and while in the garden was the recipient of God’s grace, which enabled him to serve God.
Augustine is at pains to point out that even before the fall, man was subject to the possibility of change and development. He could either obey or disobey, and his resulting disobedience had monumental implications: “Augustine writes much more straightforwardly of the results of sin. Whereas Adam was free to serve God (and free not to) before he fell, with his fall his posterity lost their truest freedom; death of the body became inevitable, and death of the soul became a real possibility.”[3]
Despite this natural inclination to do good, Adam still succumbed to temptation. In pride he rebelled against God and ate the forbidden fruit. The fall of man meant humanity was susceptible to the dominion of sin; as man rebelled against God – to whom man was rightfully subservient – so did man lose the ability to control that which was naturally should have been subservient to him – namely, his human body.[4]
Augustine holds to a deeper view of the Fall because while he taught Adam was created good with the ability to do either good or evil, he still felt (in contrast to Pelagian teaching that Adam was created with the absolute equal ability for good or evil) Adam possessed a natural predisposition for good. In thinking this, Augustine postulates that the Fall was that much more dramatic because rather than choosing evil, Adam had to overcome his tendency for good in order to disobey God.
Where Pelagius sees Adam as an isolated person and his act of disobedience as an isolated incident, Augustine would say that modern humanity is tied very closely to Adam’s act of disobedience. Adam was our legal representative (expressed by the concept of federal headship), and we are held legally responsible for his actions. Additionally, Augustine taught that all of humanity was physically present in Adam’s loins – in lumbis Adami. “Adam, created originally righteous, sinned, thereby losing God’s gratia adjurtoria. Further, all men actually sinned in Adam…In sinning the father of the race was not merely … representative of his heirs, they sinned in him.”[5]
Following the Fall, all of humanity was stricken with the inherent stain of original sin. In accordance with this, man was deprived of true free will. While man still had the ability to make choices, ultimately he was left with nothing in his being except a necessity to sin, the extreme opposite of his pre-fall tendency towards obedience. Additionally, man faced existence marred by the obstruction of knowledge, the loss of paradise (the curse upon the earth), and the loss of God’s grace (forfeiture of the ability to do good). “The saving grace of God alone can free the human will from bondage to sin.”[6]
Man was predisposed to obey God before the Fall, and incapable of doing so after it. In addition, man became predisposed to the pursuit of the sensual life as lust began to rule his spirit; Augustine termed this susceptibility to lust concupiscence. Finally, man became both capable of and subject to death.
[1] Sell 126
[2] Walker 164
[3] Sell 128
[4] Cohen, Jeremy. Original Sin as the Evil Inclination – A Polemicist’s Appreciation of Human Nature. In Harvard Theological Review. Volume 73 (Jul-Oct, 1980); 504.
[5] Sell 127
[6] Sell 131
“What is the meaning of life?” “What is my purpose?” “What am I supposed to do?” “Why am I here?” Perhaps no questions are more ingrained in the very fabric of man’s existence than these. But why? What is it about the nature of man that he should so desperately seek direction and purpose?
Inherent within all men is a desire to comprehend the whence and the wither of their existence. Man is given to inquiry concerning his very identity and purpose; he is eager to understand who he is, where he is destined to go, and why.
However, before man should endeavor to uncover such monumentally important information regarding who he is and where he is going, it is prudent he should seek first who he is in regards to where he has come from. For how can he decipher where he is going if he does not fully understand where he has come from? “The question of origins is one of the most significant that a person ever faces: where we came from is crucial to understanding who we are and where we are going.”[1]
The Scriptures tell us man exists in a fallen state, corrupted by a sin-nature and conceived spiritually dead, with a heart of stone. But the average person, with no inclination to the things of God, is ignorant to his depravity. He is unaware that his legal representative – Adam – perpetrated the first sin, thereby dooming all of humanity to this fallen state we now find ourselves in.
So the question poses itself: Why has the average individual never seen fit to inquire of his origins? He likely assumes that man is basically good. And why should he bother to investigate his past if he is under the belief that man is good? If that idea alone – that man is wholly and inherently good – informs his worldview, then his entire perception of reality is skewed. Man lives blindly, deceived as to the truth of his existence.
Understanding, then, that man has a misinformed worldview due to the idea that humanity is basically good, we need to first remedy this notion that man is born naturally good before attempting to reconcile man’s worldview with reality. The best way to do this in the space provided is investigate the development of the doctrine of original sin.
Original sin can be defined as follows: “Original sin is not the first sin. It’s the result of the first sin, it refers to our inherent corruption, by which we are born in sin, and in sin did our mother’s conceive us.”[2] While this concept is relatively clear today, that was not always the case – in the earliest days of the church, the doctrine of original sin was anything but clear.
Our investigation to elucidate man’s origin through the development of the doctrine of original sin takes us first to the early fifth century, just before Rome fell to Alaric the Visigoth. A monk named Pelagius was born in Britain around 360 A.D. and served for thirty years as chaplain to the Roman Senatorial house of Anicii.[3] From early in his career, Pelagius was sure of one thing: humans were created good: “Pelagius said there is no such thing as original sin. Adam’s sin affected Adam and only Adam. There is no transmission or transfer of guilt or fallenness or corruption to the progeny of Adam and Eve.”[4] What concerns us for the topic at hand is just this, Pelagius’ view on original sin.
Pelagius taught that man was equally free to choose good or evil – man has absolute autonomy and independence in regards to his will. Man is free from everything, including God Himself, man possessing absolute equal ability to do either good or evil. Pelagius believed, “If I ought, I can,” denying that man inherits original sin from Adam and affirming that all men have the power not to sin.[5] “Pelagian man is created mortal by God. He is, moreover, sinless, as was Adam before the Fall. Possibilities of evil and good confront him, and he is able to choose between these by the exercise of his free will.”[6]
However, while man has this freedom in his will, he is still susceptible to influence. According to Pelagius, man is a creature of habit and sin is just this, an acquired habit. The human will is affected by its own actions, acquiring a disposition according to how it is exercised. “There was no ‘great sin’ (as Augustine proposed) behind the misery of the human condition…the trouble was habit and not nature.”[7]
By Pelagius’ accounting, man is born tabula rasa, and any actions thereafter serve to create tendencies in the will of man according to those very actions. “Far from being defiled as a result of Adam’s weakness in disobeying one commandment, Adam’s posterity my actually become stronger than Adam by obeying many commandments. This goal is to be attained by the consistent right exercise of the will, and such exercise is, to reiterate the point, naturally open to man.”[8]
Pelagius can say that man is born tabula rasa because as he sees it, Adam’s act of disobedience in the garden was an isolated incident, having no effect on humanity. “The whole human race neither dies because of Adam’s sin, nor rises because of Christ’s resurrection.”[9] His sin was a singular, excusable mistake with no consequences for his body or soul. “For him every person’s sin was one’s own. Adam’s fault lay in his example – he did not infect the human race, but he did lead it astray.”[10] This leaves Adam’s posterity with equal capacity for both good and evil. And while there are no inherent flaws as a result of Adam’s sin, there is still his bad example, and it is through this poor moral showing by Adam in the garden that Pelagius gives an accounting for the sin in the world. “Adam’s sin set them an ill example, which they have been quick to follow.”[11]
Since sin only exists thanks to Adam’s bad example and man is born tabula rasa, Pelagius is confident in saying that man exists today in the exact same moral condition Adam enjoyed before the Fall, and redemption is achievable merely through the exercise of one’s free will to do and follow good. “Infants enjoy the status of Adam before the Fall and hence may attain eternal life irrespective of baptism. Both the law and the gospel are means of salvation.”[12] Given this, Pelagius is able to say that God’s natural grace is evidence that He gave man free will, and His supernatural grace exists to assist men in the exercise of their free will for good.
The teachings of Pelagius were propagated and made more accessible by his disciples Julian of Eclanum and Celestius. In roughly 410 AD, Celestius was charged with the following theological errors: “(1) Adam was made mortal and would have died whether he had sinned or had not sinned. (2) The sin of Adam injured himself alone, and not the human race. (3) New-born children are in that state in which Adam was before his fall. (4) Neither by the death and sin of Adam does the whole race die, nor by the resurrection of Christ does the whole race rise. (5) The law leads to the kingdom of heaven as well as the Gospel. (6) Even before the coming of the Lord there were men without sin.”[13]
Where Celestius may have been somewhat more radical than Pelagius, Pelagius’ views may be summarily stated according to the following three points: 1) Adam’s fall has no effect on mankind, 2) humans are born perfectly free, and 3) perfection is attainable in this life. Pelagius’ views leave him known to history primarily as the heretic who did battle with St. Augustine in the Pelagian Controversy.
[1] Kelly, Douglas. Creation and Change. Christian Focus Publications, Great Britian; 1997. 1.
[2] Sproul, R. C. The Pelagian Captivity of the Church. In Modern Reformation. Volume 10, Number 3 (May/June); 2001. 24.
[3] Frend, W. H. C. The Rise of Christianity. Fortress Press, Philadelphia; 1984. 673-674.
[4] Sproul 24
[5] Walker 168
[6] Sell, Alan. Augustine versus Pelagius: A cautionary tale of perennial importance. In Calvin Theological Journal. [………] 122.
[7] Frend 674
[8] Sell 122
[9] ibid 121
[10] Frend 674
[11] Walker 168
[12] Sell 121
[13] Walker 169; also in Sell 120-121
In theological terms, God is archetypal and man is ectypal.
That is, God is the self-existent one and man is derivative of Him; man owes his entire being to God. Man is dependent upon God for his existence and cannot exist apart from God.
When man is struggling with issues of identity – with wanting to feel comfortable in his own skin – it does him no good to solely examine himself. In order to fully know himself and fully understand himself, man must seek God and endeavor to know Him.
John Calvin was very wise when he wrote in the opening pages of his Institutes:
“Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves…In the first place, no one can look upon himself without immediately turning his thoughts to the contemplation of God, in whom he, “lives and moves,” [Acts 17:28].”
And again a little bit later on:
“Moreover, although our mind cannot apprehend God without rendering some honor to Him, it will not suffice simply to hold that there is One whom all out to honor and adore, unless we are also persuaded that He is the fountain of every good, and that we must seek nothing elsewhere than in Him.”
Not only must we recognize that apart from knowledge of God will we never truly know ourselves, but also that a true knowledge of God consists of worship, reverence, awe, and humility.
To know God will cause us to worship God, and to worship God will allow us to see His magnificence, and accordingly our place in His plan and His kingdom.
“Our knowledge should serve first to teach us fear and reverence; secondly, with it as our guide and teacher, we should learn to seek ever good from Him…you cannot behold Him clearly unless you acknowledge Him to be the fountainhead and source of every good.”
Do not feel insecure, inadequate, or anxious. Know God has created you – as you – specifically.
Turn to Him, seek Him, and worship Him.
“You will seek me and find me when you search for me with all your heart”
- Jeremiah 29:13
“God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth”
- John 4: 24
Only when you lose sight of yourself in all that God is, will you truly find yourself.
Photo courtesy of Booksneeze.com
Through the good graces of the Thomas Nelson Book Review Bloggers program, I recently had the privilege of reading The Gospel According to LOST by Chris Seay.
As a former philosophy major and current seminary student, I of course have been attracted to LOST for quite some time.
The characters and storyline always offer ample opportunity for reflection and discussion concerning larger issues of life; LOST often serves as a primer for numerous philosophical quandaries and theological debates.
Seay tackles the philosophical questions presented by LOST with ease, providing the background information necessary for having a deeper understanding of the issues put forth by the TV show. He also attempts to step back from the realm of pure philosophical speculation and allow the seeker or non-believer time to evaluate the deeper, spiritual questions raised.
However, I would have liked to see a little bit more guidance concerning these spiritual issues – a little more focus on the redemptive nature of Christ – instead of simply providing a space for unguided spiritual reflection and journey.
That being said, Seay’s The Gospel According to LOST does a good job of integrating the philosophical and spiritual questions with pure enjoyment of the show.
There is a drive inherent within each and every one of us, a drive in life to do something – anything – in life that is meaningful, relevant, and purposeful.
Why do we perform in high school? Do get into a good college. Why do we perform in college? To get a good job. Why do we perform in our job? To make money. Why do we want money? To live a comfortable life in want of nothing.
But is that really all there is to life? Is that truly our sole drive – our lone motivation?
I think not….
There is much talk of the “God-shaped hole” in each of our hearts, and while I find this conversation terribly cliché, there is some truth to it; each of us truly does have a longing for something more, for something bigger than us or our existence or our ability to describe it. Something that broods over us and makes us hungry for more, though often we know not what we are hungry for.
In the same vein, there is a drive each of us feels to create, to be somebody and do something that matters, that won’t fade away into infinite nothingness when we pass from this earthly realm.
This concept of purpose can be discussed in terms of teleology.
Philosophers speak of teleology often in relation to creation (evidence for the existence of God based on the design and apparent purpose inherent within creation) or biology (behavioral patterns serving a specific purpose) and even mental function (how a mental representation represents what it intends to).
However, when speaking about teleology in terms of human action, I find it necessary to port our conversation to a spiritual discussion.
A desire for meaning and purpose in life, a desire for something more than myself.
We are aware of and hungry for something that is bigger than us, something we can find our place in and be a part of. Something of meaning, value, truth, love, and beauty. Something we are incapable of participating when left to our own corrupt devices.
Humans all worship something; money, power, fame, possessions, etc.
Our lives are shaped by that which we worship and pursue.
When we worship things of earthly and temporal fancy, our satisfaction derived from said wants is temporal as well.
However, when we worship something that is eternal, permanent, and holy, our satisfaction and sense of belonging is divinely inspired therein.
Look about you boldly and daringly, do not be afraid to approach the world that is bigger than you and seek your place within it.
You will not find purpose in and of yourself, but in the One who created you, the one in Whom, “we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28).
Have ears to hear, eyes to see, and hearts desperate for Jesus Christ, and find rest.
Theological terms are often thrown around without much explanation given as to the fullness of their meaning.
Expiation and Propitiation are two of these terms.
Expiation can be found contextually in Numbers 35:33, “So you shall not pollute the land in which you are; for blood pollutes the land and no expiation can be made for the land for the blood that is shed on it, except by the blood of him who shed it.“
And propitiation in Hebrews 2: 17, “Therefore, He had to be made like His brethren in all things, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.”
These terms are important to our walk as believers and our understanding of the Scriptures because they are often discussed in terms of soteriology (the doctrine of salvation). Christ’s death is referred to as both expiatory and propitiatory.
These terms can be even more confusing because they are often used interchangeably even though the minute differences in their meaning have broad ramifications.
In the simplest terms possible, propitiation means to appease and expiate means to cover.
When we speak of our sins being expiated, we mean they were covered over or made to be no more.
When we speak of our sins being propitiated for, we mean that wrath and justice was appeased.
God is a holy God, and it is therefore impossible for stained and sinful man to stand in His presence; He is too just for that.
Christ’s death on the cross was propitiatory in that it provided appeasement (satisfaction) in light of God’s demand for justice, and Christ’s death was expiatory because His blood covers our sin and removes our stain.
