I am the son of a computing pioneer. My father was working at Point Mugu in the early 1950’s when one of the first analog computers ever sold arrived on the loading dock. Being a Scot, my father took note of the price tag, $65,000 I believe, and decided he needed to find out what this machine was and what it could do. He was soon able to use the device to simulate the flight of aircraft and the missiles to shoot them down, and later simulated the pulmonary and cardiac systems of the human body when he built one of the first working heart and lung machines in his spare time. With my mother he founded Simulations Councils, Incorporated, which later became The Society for Computer Simulation. Suffice it to say that he was so successful in spreading the gospel of computer simulation and its benefits that the Society today is no longer needed nor is it vital. All branches of human endeavor have adopted computers and simulation as a means of maximizing performance and control while minimizing costs and risks. With the development of integrated circuits, digital computers have largely replaced analog because of the increased computational power they offer at a much lower cost. This change has become possible only through the grudging realization that you can represent just about any datum or relationship through bits of 1 or 0, there or not there, present or absent. It’s not a romantic notion, but it’s true: by reducing all concepts to binary representation, we arrive at the best, cheapest, fastest way to do work and increase our leisure time.
In contrast to this increased dependency upon the black/white, there or not there reality of digital computation, we have the moral world around us. Francis Schaeffer points out that up until the 19th century, a similar, binary view of the world prevailed. Things were either in keeping with divine revelation or not; they were right or wrong, divine or demonic, worthwhile or harmful. With the introduction of Hegel’s dialectic of thesis, antithesis and synthesis, however, we have a world that is increasingly attracted to gray. There was no right or wrong, only progress towards a more refined synthesis. What started out as a philosophical commentary was soon applied in every arena, particularly moral theology or ethics. Gone is the quaint idea that things have implicit moral validity; a binary valuation. Hegel has allowed us to substitute a kind of analog morality that has had sweeping implications. Things that were once considered outrageous or inconceivable are now not only tolerated but encouraged as being avant garde or progressive. It seems that our society is moving in one direction with respect to technology, while it’s moving in the exact opposite direction in terms of philosophy, morality, or perish the thought, theology.
To be fair I should point out that not everybody’s gone to shades of gray regarding moral theology. Whereas the last almost 500 years have been characterized by a tension between the poles of Roman Catholicism and Protestantism, that enduring conflict has given way to a new battle between liberal and conservative versions of Christianity. Unthinkable just a short time ago, conservatives of both Roman and Protestant stripes are finding they have more in common with one another than they do with their liberal compatriots. This could never have happened unless both Roman and Protestant theologians had started to think like Hegel and base their pronouncements upon changing views of what constitutes right. Just as an analog computer works by comparing relative voltages, modern moral debate is based upon a reference voltage that is fluctuating according to popular sentiment. The result is that Rome has compromised its moral integrity in the name of legal and financial expedience, and the only sins that abide in Protestantism are those of sexism, racism, and homophobia.
So the question then becomes, in this debate between liberal and conservative, who’s right? We can play Biblical roulette and proof-text using verses that buttress our preconceived position, but that’s been tried and has produced more acrimony than certainty. Is it possible to look at the full expanse of the revelation of God as revealed in both Testaments of the Bible and come to an understanding of how God operates, and how he chooses to reveal himself, that will shed some light on this clash of hermeneutics? I believe it is.
Taken as a whole, the first thing you notice about the Bible is its inherent redundancy in terms of both its form and its content. In terms of literary form, you have Hebrew poetry and chiastic rhetoric. The former is characterized not by rhyme, but by repetition, or parallelism. This repetition can be attributed to three concerns. The first is that it’s the only form of poetry that translates without loss; it doesn’t depend upon rhyme. Secondly, it helps convey emphasis. As Joseph says in Genesis 41:32,
“The reason the dream was given to Pharaoh in two forms is that the matter has been firmly decided by God, and God will do it soon.”
Finally, it is God’s signature, so to speak, in all his dealings with his creation. Finite humans require a point of moral reference when receiving or asserting truth. As the author of the Letter to the Hebrews explains,
“Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope offered to us may be greatly encouraged.”
A chiasmus is the traditional form of argument or persuasion wherein an argument is marshaled through a series of points, each building upon that which precedes it. A culmination or conclusions is reached, then the argument is repeated, point by point, in the opposite order. A five point argument would appear as A,B,C,D,E,D,C,B,A. This is the form of rhetorical argument Jesus and the apostles were so good at that they confounded the religious teachers who theretofore had been its sole masters.
A similar preoccupation with repetition is evident with respect to the historical events the Bible records. Old Testament, New Testament; two. These equate with the two covenants, first with Abraham, then through Jesus. Two temples, the one made of stone, then the flesh and bones of Jesus. Each sacrament has its own prior adumbration as well, first the water of the Red Sea, which presages baptism, and then the Passover lamb, which finds its perfection in the sacrifice of Jesus. Even the bad stuff seems to have a precursor, with the destruction of the temple and deportation of the Jews as a foretaste of the final judgment of humanity. Though resembling the literary forms mentioned above, this repetition of events or types is more comprehensive still. Whereas the former involves repetition of like words or concepts, the latter involves the repetition of events that are similar in intent but different in terms of efficacy. In every case, there is first an imperfect, temporary, physical presentation, primarily of human authorship or agency. There is then a later repetition that is of divine agency, that is perfect, permanent, and spiritual. It’s as if God lets us try it once ourselves to make the point that we can’t do it by ourselves. He then comes and does it unilaterally and correctly.
The form of Biblical revelation appears to be a reflection of a deeper bilateral symmetry of the cosmos itself. There are two created orders, one spiritual and one physical. There are two moral actors, God and man. The intent was that they were to be in communion, but it was not long before a problem developed between them. At the outset of trouble we see two perspectives. God asks, “Who told you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?” Man, showing that the first sign of human sin is blame shifting, responds by saying, “The woman you put here with me – she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.” It’s not his fault, it’s the fault of the woman and the God who put her there. From this point on, man has two problems: God’s at enmity with him, and he’s at enmity with God. This produces two dilemmas on man’s part: moral guilt and powerlessness to change. God’s solutions, needless to say, are also two in number: our justification and our salvation.
If there’s one thing that has been consistently overlooked in the Scriptures, it’s this notion that God’s solution to our problems, our redemption, is a two-step process. I don’t know why this is so hard to see, but apparently it is. Suffice it to say that most commentators either gloss over the verses where Paul contrasts justification and salvation, or conclude that they refer to the same thing from different perspectives. I propose we look at two verses that hold them in stark contrast, and see if we can discern what Paul may be trying to say. In Romans 5:9,10 we read:
“Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!”
Further, in Romans 10:9,10 we find:
“That if you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved.”
Now the first temptation is to say that Paul is simply indulging in that time-honored practice of Hebrew parallelism, where one statement is repeated in a different manner to have poetic impact. Resist the temptation. Give him more credit. Let us assume that he wrote what he wrote for a reason, and wasn’t being redundant for the sake of literary form. What I propose is that Paul is separating two things that must be kept separate, or else we will lose insight into how God redeems mankind.
First, Paul says that something happened on one day, Good Friday, that he calls justification, where all humanity was declared innocent in God’s eyes, and placed in Jesus’ legal position of righteousness. To Paul it means being found by the divine court to be in a position of righteousness and legal probity exactly like that of Jesus Christ. We’re not any different, but our legal standing is updated to reflect Christ’s righteousness, not our own. Donald Bloesch seems to agree:
“Something happened for our salvation in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ independent of our belief or response. Reconciliation and redemption are an accomplished fact, an objective reality that is not affected by the subjective attitude of man…The atonement of Jesus Christ signifies a transformation of the human situation, and not simply the possibility of a future salvation.”
Now I would clean up Donald’s soteriological nomenclature somewhat, but my point abides: on Good Friday Christ died for all humanity, independent of time, our awareness, or our ability to respond. All are placed “in Christ,” whether they know it or not, and are justified. As Scripture boldly proclaims, Christ died for the sins of the whole world. There is nothing limited or imperfect about the shed blood of the sinless Son of God. Is that the last word on man’s redemption? No, but it is the first word. God is no longer at enmity with us. Jesus is our Savior.
The second word God speaks is that of salvation, to Paul an entirely different issue. It is, according to John the Baptist, Jesus, John the apostle, and of course Paul, deliverance from a coming wrath reserved for those do not realize that their justification carries with it a moral imperative. It’s not too much to say that whereas both Rome and Geneva say people are lost until they are saved, variously through ritual observance or divine election, a careful reading of Paul suggests that we’re in fact saved until we’re lost; a very different thing! And Paul’s not the only one saying this. What we read in many parables, in Hebrews chapters 4 and 6, and throughout that entire pesky book of James, is that we can indeed fall out of a position of favor with God. The notion of “eternal security” is not only not Biblical, it’s apparently not true. Jesus himself says in John 15:2 that the branches that are cut off and burned are those originally “in me.” Although it is treading on the inner counsels of God, I would venture that at the age of majority, people become subject to the temptation to declare themselves moral free agents, and if this fantasy is indulged in, become subject to this coming, second judgment. Jews and Christians both have sensed this reality, and have commemorated coming of age with rites to confirm a right decision. What each is saying is, “We are no longer at enmity with God, and therefore trust him to control our lives. Jesus is now our Lord.” This, as both experience and the Bible suggest, is anything but universal.
To eradicate the enmity we feel toward God, we need an infusion from without. This is the role of the Holy Spirit, who comes in and fills the void left when our spirit was attenuated in the Fall. Although Pentecost is a historical fact no less than Good Friday, each of us must allow a personal Pentecost if its benefits are to be conferred upon us. No individual can take credit for this new life, but it is nevertheless up to us to cede exclusive control of our volition, and let the Spirit have his way with us. The goal is that our behavior might conform to and reflect our legal status as being morally righteous. We have a role to play that, unlike that which Pelagius would encourage, is not positive. It is negative, the cessation of something pernicious, but one which nevertheless requires our concurrence. As Oswald Chambers says,
“The disposition of sin is not immorality and wrong-doing, but the disposition of real-realization – I am my own god…The condemnation is not that I am born with a heredity of sin, but if when I realize Jesus Christ came to deliver me from it, I refuse to let Him do so, from that moment I begin to get the seal of damnation.”
Two solutions, and guess what, two sacraments. Just as we are justified once, so are we to celebrate that fact through the one baptism commanded by Christ. For the very young, this is a celebration of something done for us by another, with no agency or effort on our part. Just as an infant child is incapable of willful effort one way or the other, and may even be asleep, he stands justified by the act of Christ’s death on the cross 2,000 years ago. And as that action is perfect and needs no repetition, so too our baptism is a one-time act that need not and should never be repeated. Children who are baptized young should be raised in the knowledge of their accomplished justification. This is the norm. Older people who come to faith in Christ later in life should view baptism as an opportunity to agree with Paul that “I have been crucified with Christ.” They are dead to self, and the ceremony symbolizes burial that an entirely new person might come up who is aware of their powerlessness. Even the greatest of saints knows the experience of needing a new infusion of power from above. As the Scriptures record, the apostles themselves were “filled with the Holy Spirit” time and again. So for the on-going drama of life, we need a sacrament that is repeatable, and which corresponds with our constant need of divine help. Thus, communion is a request that the Spirit of Jesus dwell within us, no less than the bread and wine do, in a literal, deliberate sense. Two actors, two problems, two solutions introduced by divine act on two days in history, Good Friday and Pentecost.
So what does this say about the revelation of God’s will for our doctrine and moral conduct? It reveals that God is squarely in the digital age. To quote Oswald Chambers again,
“In spiritual relationship we do not grow step by step; we are either there or we are not. God does not cleanse us more and more from sin, but when we are in the light, walking in the light, we are cleansed from all sin. It is a question of obedience, and instantly the relationship is perfected. Turn away for one second out of obedience, and darkness and death are at work at once.”
There are several passages in the Scriptures that suggest some analog computing lingers in the universe, such as when it says that along with differing gifts and degrees of revelation there are differing expectations. Further, as behavior differs, rewards can follow suit. For the most part, however, there is right, and there is wrong. It galls us, who favor systems that we can master without help from another, but it’s just not what the Bible is saying. The Bible is a book of extremes, of absolutes, just as holiness is absolute. We need to rehabilitate the notions of black and white. They are not inclusive, nor are they intended to be. We’re not the point of reference, God is. Jesus echoes this absolute dichotomy when he says, “…whoever is not against you is for you, ” and “He who is not with me is against me.” All attempts to render God’s will with respect to our doctrine, our philosophy or our behavior in shades of gray is to try to dilute that which is absolute.
It’s a hackneyed cliché to say that there are only two kinds of people in the world, but that appears to be the case with regard to our response to the Gospel. When Jesus was crucified there were two thieves executed along with him, and they exhibit the two responses we can have to his ministry. One is the wrong response, and the other is the right response. Listen to the first thief, who is flippant about his own role in matters and incredulous regarding Jesus’ authority. “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” He personifies those in every age who hear the Gospel and make the mistake of thinking they are alive when in fact they are dead. This mistake may be manifested in two ways. On the one hand they can deny guilt by reserving the right to determine moral authority unto themselves. In doing so they are saying they don’t need a Savior. On the other, they can acknowledge guilt, but insist that they have the power within themselves to reform. They don’t need a Lord. Both constitute blaspheming the Holy Spirit, either by denying the testimony to our guilt found in the Scriptures He caused to be written, or by refusing Him control of our will. The Holy Spirit is gentle but he’s determined, and he will not tolerate competition for our will. He, like anybody with whom we have a relationship, can be frustrated and driven from our presence. The man who competes with the Spirit will eventually be left alone, bereft, fruitless. The second thief is the obverse. “Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” This man is honest about himself, and credulous regarding Jesus. He has ceded his role as moral arbiter, and has in fact repudiated that right as he formerly exercised it. In such men the Spirit finds a chance to dwell, and the sure and certain sign of his presence is the fruit he bears. Between the two men, we have the sum total of human response to the Gospel. The question is not whether or not you’re a thief; any religion can tell you that you are. The question is which thief are you? I binary question.
One of the legacies my father passed on to me was a love of the outdoors. Scotsmen like to camp because it’s cheap, but in the process an appreciation for the created order took deep root. As that creation is beautiful and beneficial, so one can conclude that the One who made it is beautiful and well-disposed towards us. Every aspect of creation, its laws of life and death, are intended to make us mindful of the intelligence and love behind the work. It has been argued that the presence of DNA in all living organisms proves that all evolved from a common life form. I would counter that when the Lord goes to the trouble of developing a system that works, that is perfect, he uses it throughout his garden. As with natural laws, so with moral laws. The same reasoning can apply to the processing, storage and communication of information, whether secular or sacred. Nature has validated a binary nomenclature for data processing as best; it’s clear, concise and responds to advances in technology. I contend that this is a reflection of the fact that the moral universe is itself binary in essence; God has instituted a mechanism of salvation that is itself clear, concise, and responsive to cultural translation. Our natural tendency is to make things, especially important things, more complicated than they really are. It should come as a relief and a joy that all we really need to know about life can be comprehended if we can just count to two.
