Sin

Note: Last Updated 7/29/2024.

Karl Menninger:

     The very word “sin,” which seems to have disappeared, was a proud word. It was once a strong word, an ominous and serious word. It described a central point in every civilized human being’s life plan and life style. But the word went away. It has almost disappeared—the word, along with the notion. Why? Doesn’t anyone sin anymore? Doesn’t anyone believe in sin?

(Karl Menninger, Whatever Became of Sin? [New York: Hawthorn Books, Inc., 1974], p. 14.)

Cf. Owen C. Thomas:

     Although the concept of neurosis was unknown before the late nineteenth century, there is an element in the Christian tradition which tends to support the causal relation between sin and neurosis. Paul taught that when a person rebels against God, this leads to the disruption of the person (Rom. 1:28-32). Similarly Augustine taught that when the will is not subordinate to God, the affections of the soul are insubordinate to the will and become disordered. According to Christian faith a person’s relation to God is fundamental to the person’s well being on all levels, including the psychological. If the relation to God is disrupted, then we can expect things to begin to go wrong on all levels of the person’s life. If persons are created to have their lives centered in God, then to lose this center is to place all aspects of life in jeopardy, leading to psychological confusion, conflict, and perhaps neurosis. Thus we have discovered that causality is a possible relation between the concepts of sin and neurosis.

     Are these concepts complementary in the sense that they refer to different aspects of one reality in a person? Is it possible to assert that one particular human state looked at from one point of view is an unconscious emotional conflict and looked at from another point of view is estrangement from God? This sounds like a possibility.

     …However, if, as we have noted above, it is possible to conceive of the presence of sin without neurosis and vice versa, then this complementary relation would not always be the case. So the concepts may be complementary but not necessarily always.

     At this point it is important to note that the referents of the concepts of sin and neurosis are usually held to be universal, that is, present in all people. The Christian doctrine of sin asserts that estrangement from God is universal, and that it is overcome only fragmentarily in historical life. Freud and his followers assert that neurosis in some form and in some degree is probably universal, but that it can be overcome in varying degrees. We have noted that one limitation of the applicability of the relations of causality and complementarity is the fact that it is possible to conceive the presence of sin without neurosis and vice versa. If, however, the concepts of sin and neurosis both involve their universality, then this limitation is removed.

(Owen C. Thomas, Theological Questions: Analysis and Argument, [Wilton: Morehouse-Barlow Co., Inc., 1983], pp. 66, 67.)

Cf. Rebecca Manley Pippert:

Surely you don’t expect a modern person to believe that human woes could be tied to something as archaic as the notion of sin? Few concepts have less cash value today than sin. In fact, since the time of the Enlightenment we have not even used the concept of sin as a category for understanding the human condition. So let’s not be so naive as to say our problems are a result of sin. Nobody believes that anymore.

     Yet the notion of human fallenness has captured the imagination of literary thinkers such as Camus and William Golding, author of Lord of the Flies. It was exactly Karl Menninger’s point in Whatever Happened to Sin? And listen to what psychotherapist Otto Rank says in Becker’s The Denial of Death: “The neurotic type suffers from a consciousness of sin just as much as did his religious ancestor, without believing in the conception of sin. This is precisely what makes him ‘neurotic’; he feels a sinner without the religious belief in sin for which he therefore needs a new rational explanation.” Thus the plight of the modern person is that he or she is, according to Becker, “a sinner with no word for it.” Becker even lists the characteristics of the disease as being in disharmony with others, always trying to create one’s own world from within themselves, blowing oneself up to larger than true size, refusing to admit one’s cosmic dependence.

(Rebecca Manley Pippert, Hope Has Its Reasons: The Search to Satisfy Our Deepest Longings: Revised Edition, [Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001], p. 86.)

Cf. Ernest Becker:

     But now we see the historical difference between the classical sinner and the modern neurotic: both of them experience the naturalness of human insufficiency, only today the neurotic is stripped of the symbolic world-view, the God-ideology that would make sense out of his unworthiness and would translate it into heroism. Traditional religion turned the consciousness of sin into a condition for salvation; but the tortured sense of nothingness of the neurotic qualifies him now only for miserable extinction, for merciful release in lonely death. It is all right to be nothing vis-à-vis God, who alone can make it right in His unknown ways; it is another thing to be nothing to oneself, who is nothing. Rank summed it up this way:

The neurotic type suffers from a consciousness of sin just as much as did his religious ancestor, without believing in the conception of sin. This is precisely what makes him “neurotic”; he feels a sinner without the religious belief in sin for which he therefore needs a new rational explanation.

Thus the plight of modern man: a sinner with no word for it or, worse, who looks for the word for it in a dictionary of psychology and thus only aggravates the problem of his separateness and hyper-consciousness. Again, this impasse is what Rank meant when he called psychology a “preponderantly negative and disintegrating ideology.”

(Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death, [New York: The Free Press, 1975], pp. 197-198.)

Cf. Otto Rank:

…those masses are still deeply engulfed in religious traditions of their forefathers, and the mere fact that a handful of intellectuals have introduced a few new terms into popular language does not alter the deep religious feeling most people, including those intellectuals themselves, still cherish in spite of their denial.

     To label sin by the misleading term of “guilt”—which is the result of it—does not in the least change the individual’s inner experience concerning it. The neurotic type suffers from a consciousness of sin just as much as did his religious ancestor, without believing in the conception of sin. This is precisely what makes him “neurotic”; he feels a sinner without the religious belief in sin for which he therefore needs a new rational explanation. The need and desire for a humanistic Christianity is one thing and the ability to lead a Christian life—to be “un vrai chrétien”—is quite another.

(Otto Rank, Beyond Psychology, [New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1958], pp. 192-193.)

Barbara Brown Taylor:

…neither the language of medicine nor the language of law is an adequate substitute for the language of theology, which has more room in it for paradox than either of the other two. In the theological model, the basic human problem is not sickness or lawlessness but sin. It is something we experience both as a species and as individuals, in our existential angst and in our willful misbehavior. However we run into it, we run into it as wrecked relationship: with God, with one another, with the whole created order. Sometimes we cause the wreckage and sometimes we are simply trapped in it, but either way we are not doomed.

     Contrary to the medical model, we are not entirely at the mercy of our maladies. …The choice to enter into the process of repair is called repentance, an often bitter medicine with the undisputed power to save lives.

     Contrary to the legal model, sin is not simply a set of behaviors to be avoided. Much more fundamentally, it is a way of life to be exposed and changed, and no one is innocent. …the essence of sin is not the violation of laws but the violation of relationships.

     …“All sins are attempts to fill voids,” wrote the French philosopher Simone Weil. Because we cannot stand the God-shaped hole

inside of us, we try stuffing it full of all sorts of things, but it refuses to be filled. It rejects all substitutes. It insists on remaining bare. It is the holy of holies inside of us, which only God may fill.

(Barbara Brown Taylor, Speaking of Sin: The Lost Language of Salvation, [Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2015], pp. 40, 41, 41, 46-47.) Preview.

Cf. Augustine of Hippo:

...You made us for Yourself and our hearts find no peace until they rest in You.

(Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, 1.1; trans. Penguin Classics: Saint Augustine: Confessions, trans. R. S. Pine-Coffin, [Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1986], p. 21. Cf. NPNF1, 1:45.)

Cf. Blaise Pascal:

What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.

(Blaise Pascal, Pensées, trans. A. J. Krailsheimer, [London: Penguin Books, 1966], # 148 (428), p. 75.)

Fore more see: Timothy Keller, The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism, [New York: Dutton, 2008], Chapter Ten: The Problem of Sin, pp. 159ff.

R. C. Sproul:

When we want to emphasize the importance of something in English, we have several devices from which to choose. We may underline the important words or print them in italics or boldface type. We may attach an exclamation point following the words or set them off in quotation marks. These are all devices to call the reader’s attention to something that is especially important.

     The Old Testament Jew also had different techniques to indicate emphasis. One such device was the method of repetition. We see Jesus’ use of repetition with the words “Truly, truly, I say to you” (NASB). Here the double use of truly was a sign that what He was about to say was of crucial importance. The word translated “truly” is the ancient word amen. We normally think of the word amen as something people say at the end of a sermon or of a prayer. It means simply, “It is true.” Jesus used it as a preface instead of a response. …On a handful of occasions the Bible repeats something to the third degree. To mention something three times in succession is to elevate it to the superlative degree, to attach to it emphasis of superimportance. …Only once in sacred Scripture is an attribute of God elevated to the third degree. Only once is a characteristic of God mentioned three times in succession. The Bible says that God is holy, holy, holy. Not that He is merely holy, or even holy, holy. He is holy, holy, holy. The Bible never says that God is love, love, love; or mercy, mercy, mercy, or wrath, wrath, wrath; or justice, justice, justice. It does say that He is holy, holy, holy, that the whole earth is full of His glory.

(R. C. Sproul, The Holiness of God, [Carol Stream: Tyndale, 1998], pp. 23-24, 24, 25.)

Derek Thomas:

     The first lesson that emerges from the fifth petition is that Jesus takes sin seriously. Anselm, the medieval theologian and scholar, wrote a treatise on the necessity for Christ to become incarnate in order for him to be our Redeemer — the book was called Cur Deus Homo, Why Did God become Man? In it, he portrays a somewhat dense character, suitably called Bozo, who cannot follow his reasoning. Exasperated, someone tells Bozo: Nondum considerasti quantum ponderis sit peccatum, ‘You have not yet considered the greatness of the weight of sin.’ A failure to take sin seriously leads us into all kinds of moral and spiritual failure. Sin, after all, is why Jesus came into this world. It is the reason why he had to become a servant — a suffering servant. It is sin that necessitated him dying on a cross of shame. 

     We can never take sin lightly.

(Derek Thomas, Praying The Saviour’s Way: Let Jesus’ Prayer Reshape Your Prayer Life, [Fearn: Christian Focus Publications, 2002], pp. 99-100.)

R. C. Sproul:

None of us keeps the Great Commandment for five minutes. We may think that we do in a surface way, but on a moment’s reflection it is clear that we don’t love God with our whole heart or our whole mind or our whole strength. We don’t love our neighbor as we love ourselves. We may do everything in our power to avoid thinking about this at a deep level, but there is always that nagging sense in the back of our minds to accuse us of the certain knowledge that, in fact, we violate the Great Commandment every day. Like Isaiah, we also know that no one else keeps the Great Commandment either. Herein is our comfort: Nobody is perfect. We all fall short of perfect love for God, so why worry about it? It doesn’t drive sane people to the confessional for six hours a day. If God punished everyone who failed to keep the Great Commandment, He would have to punish everyone in the world. The test is too great, too demanding; it is not fair. God will have to judge us all on a curve.

     Luther didn’t see it that way. He realized that if God graded on a curve, He would have to compromise His own holiness. To count on God doing so is supreme arrogance and supreme foolishness as well. God does not lower His own standards to accommodate us. He remains altogether holy, altogether. righteous, and altogether just. But we are unjust, and therein lies our dilemma. Luther’s legal mind was haunted by the question, How can an unjust person survive in the presence of a just God? Where everyone else was at ease in the matter, Luther was in agony: “Do you not know that God dwells in light inaccessible? We weak and ignorant creatures want to probe and understand the incomprehensible majesty of the unfathomable light of the wonder of God. We approach; we prepare ourselves to approach. What wonder then that his majesty overpowers us and shatters!”

(R. C. Sproul, The Holiness of God, [Carol Stream: Tyndale, 1998], pp. 87-88.)

John Calvin:

Again, it is certain that man never achieves a clear knowledge of himself unless he has first looked upon God’s face, and then descends from contemplating him to scrutinize himself. For we always seem to ourselves righteous and upright and wise and holy—his pride is innate in all of us—unless by clear proofs we stand convinced of our own unrighteousness, foulness, folly, and impurity. Moreover, we are not thus convinced if we look merely to ourselves and not also to the Lord, who is the sole standard by which this judgment must be measured. For, because all of us are inclined by nature to hypocrisy, a kind of empty image of righteousness in place of righteousness itself abundantly satisfies us. And because nothing appears within or around us that has not been contaminated by great immorality, what is a little less vile pleases us as a thing most pure—so long as we confine our minds within the limits of human corruption. Just so, an eye to which nothing is shown but black objects judges something dirty white or even rather darkly mottled to be whiteness itself. Indeed, we can discern still more clearly from the bodily senses how much we are deluded in estimating the powers of the soul. For if in broad daylight we either look down upon the ground or survey whatever meets our view round about, we seem to ourselves endowed with the strongest and keenest sight; yet when we look up to the sun and gaze straight at it, that power of sight which was particularly strong on earth is at once blunted and confused by a great brilliance, and thus we are compelled to admit that our keenness in looking upon things earthly is sheer dullness when it comes to the sun. So it happens in estimating our spiritual goods. As long as we do not look beyond the earth, being quite content with our own righteousness, wisdom, and virtue, we flatter ourselves most sweetly, and fancy ourselves all but demigods. Suppose we but once begin to raise our thoughts to God, and to ponder his nature, and how completely perfect are his righteousness, wisdom, and power—the straightedge to which we must be shaped. Then, what masquerading earlier as righteousness was pleasing in us will soon grow filthy in its consummate wickedness. What wonderfully impressed us under the name of wisdom will stink in its very foolishness. What wore the face of power will prove itself the most miserable weakness. That is, what in us seems perfection itself corresponds ill to the purity of God.

(John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 1.1.2; trans. The Library of Christian Classics: Volume XX: Calvin: Institutes of the Christian Religion: In Two Volumes. (Vol. xx: Books I.i To III.xix), ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, [Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1960], pp. 37-38.)

William Golding:

     “Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!” said the head. For a moment or two the forest and all the other dimly appreciated places echoed with the parody of laughter. “You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?”

(William Golding, Lord of the Flies: Casebook Edition: Text, Notes & Criticism, eds. James R. Baker & Arthur P. Ziegler, Jr., [New York: Perigee, 1988], Chapter Eight: Gift for the Darkness, p. 147.)

Genesis 4:7:

…sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you…

(New American Standard Bible: 1995 Edition.)

Aleksandr Isaevich Solzhenitsyn:

…the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either—but right through every human heart—and through all human hearts. This line shifts. Inside us, it oscillates with the years. And even within hearts overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained. And even in the best of all hearts, there remains . . . an unuprooted small corner of evil.

(Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago: 1918-1956: An Experiment in Literary Investigation: III-IV, trans. Thomas P. Whitney, [New York: Harper & Row, 1975], p. 615.)

Timothy Keller:

     In her book Creed or Chaos? Sayers said that over the previous century and more, politics had operated on the following basis: What was wrong with human society was not in the human heart. It lay in social structures, in a lack of education. It was a lack of applying what we know through science. Therefore, if we could just fill those gaps, human society would achieve greatness. But modern history is littered with disillusioned people who thought capitalism would make us better or socialism would make us better. The sins of the human heart just express themselves differently in each of these systems. Politics is another outside-in approach that does not change the heart.

(Timothy Keller, King’s Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus, [New York: Dutton, 2011], p. 78.)

Note: Political solutions treat the symptoms of the problem, not the cause (i.e. the hardness of the human heart). E.g. the problem with abortion is not that the law makes it legal (i.e. Roe v. Wade) but rather that as a nation we see nothing wrong with murdering unborn children. The laws of our nation are a manifestation of the hearts of the people, the answer to the problem of abortion is not changing laws, it’s changing hearts. People need the Gospel of Jesus Christ, not different governmental rules. A man who is dying of an infection does not need an aspirin to numb the pain, he needs antibiotics to kill the infection (i.e. treating the symptoms vs. the cause).

R. C. Sproul:

The debt that we owe God is not a pecuniary debt that can be measured in dollars and cents. It is a moral debt. Every sin we commit is deposited in the treasury of wrath that constitutes our debt to God unless we are recipients of the mercy of Christ. On the cross, all of that sin debt was paid by our Savior. 

     I honestly cannot believe how many people think they can pay the debts they owe to God. They think they can perform ten thousand deeds of righteousness to make up for their ten thousand debts of sin. This is foolishness. The debt is too huge and our so-called good works are actually filthy rags (Isa. 64:6), good for nothing. We absolutely need grace. Since we have received it, we should be the last people to grab our brothers or sisters and demand that they pay their debts to us. 

     As I said at the beginning of this chapter, we are not required to give unilateral forgiveness, but we must stand ready to forgive every second of the day. As Christians, we should be the most merciful of people. 

     It has been said that Christians are beggars telling other beggars where to find bread. That saying is somewhat trite, but things tend to become trite when they are repeated frequently, and sometimes things are repeated frequently because they are true. We have nothing before God except His mercy. None of us has even begun to understand the depth of that mercy. We sing “Amazing Grace,” but we are not really amazed by it, because we do not like to think of the enormity of the debt that has been canceled by the Father’s compassion. We need to think about that debt so that we will grasp that we are forgiven by divine mercy and grace.

(R. C. Sproul, Matthew: An Expositional Commentary, [Sanford: Reformation Trust, 2019], pp. 509-510.)

καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria

Significance in a Vast Universe

Note: Last Updated 3/18/2025.

C. S. Lewis:

“Now that we know how huge the universe is and how insignificant the earth, it is ridiculous to believe that the universal God should be specially interested in our concerns.” In answer to this you must first correct their error about fact. The insignificance of earth in relation to the universe is not a modern discovery: nearly two thousand years ago Ptolemy (Almagest, bk. 1, ch. v) said that in relation to the distance of the fixed stars earth must be treated as a mathematical point without magnitude. Secondly, you should point out that Christianity says what God has done for man; it doesn’t say (because it doesn’t know) what He has or has not done in other parts of the universe. Thirdly, you might recall the parable of the one lost sheep. If earth has been specially sought by God (which we don’t know) that may not imply that it is the most important thing in the universe, but only that it has strayed. Finally, challenge the whole tendency to identify size and importance. Is an elephant more important than a man, or a man’s leg than his brain?

(C. S. Lewis, “Christian Apologetics;” In: C. S. Lewis, The Grand Miracle: And Other Selected Essays on Theology and Ethics from God in the Dock, ed. Walter Hooper, [New York: Ballantine Books, 1988], p. 73.)

Note: See further: C. S. Lewis, Miracles: A Preliminary Study, [New York: Collier Books, 1978], VII: A Chapter of Red Herrings, pp. 48-54.

G. K. Chesterton:

Herbert Spencer would have been greatly annoyed if any one had called him an imperialist, and therefore it is highly regrettable that nobody did. But he was an imperialist of the lowest type. He popularized this contemptible notion that the size of the solar system ought to over-awe the spiritual dogma of man. Why should a man surrender his dignity to the solar system any more than to a whale? If mere size proves that man is not the image of God, then a whale may be the image of God; a somewhat formless image; what one might call an impressionist portrait. It is quite futile to argue that man is small compared to the cosmos; for man was always small compared to the nearest tree. But Herbert Spencer, in his headlong imperialism, would insist that we had in some way been conquered and annexed by the astronomical universe.

(G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, [London: John Lane, 1912], pp. 108-109.)

John Piper:

     “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1). That is why all the universe exists. It’s all about glory. The Hubble Space Telescope sends back infrared images of faint galaxies perhaps twelve billion light-years away (twelve billion times six trillion miles). Even within our Milky Way there are stars so great as to defy description, like Eta Carinae, which is five million times brighter than our sun.

     Sometimes people stumble over this vastness in relation to the apparent insignificance of man. It does seem to make us infinitesimally small. But the meaning of this magnitude is not mainly about us. It’s about God. “The heavens declare the glory of God,” says the Scripture. The reason for “wasting” so much space on a universe to house a speck of humanity is to make a point about our Maker, not us. “Lift up your eyes on high and see: who created these [stars]? He who brings out their host by number, calling them all by name, by the greatness of his might, and because he is strong in power not one is missing” (Isaiah 40:26).

(John Piper, Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ, [Wheaton: Crossway, 2004], pp. 13-14.)

Note: See further: Theistic Evolution (Evolutionary Creation).

καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria

Sense-Perception/Memory, Reliability of

Note: Last Updated 7/29/2024.

Jason Lyle:

     In order for a worldview to be rationally defensible, it must be internally consistent. But just because a worldview is self-consistent does not necessarily mean that it is correct. There is another criterion as well. A rational worldview must provide the preconditions of intelligibility. These are conditions that must be accepted as true before we can know anything about the universe. The preconditions of intelligibility are things that most people take for granted.

     The reliability of memory is one example. Everyone assumes that his or her memory is basically reliable, but this turns out to be rather difficult to prove. How do you really know that your memory is reliable? Some might say, “Well, I took a memory test two weeks ago, and I did very well on it.” But we could reply, “How do you know you took a test two weeks ago? Just because you remember this doesn’t prove it happened unless we already knew your memory is reliable.” That our memories are basically reliable is something that we all assume before we begin to investigate the universe.

     Another example is the reliability of our senses. We suppose that our eyes, ears, and other senses reliably report the details about the universe in which we live. Without this assumption, science would be impossible. We could draw no reliable conclusions from any experiment if our observations of the experiment are unreliable. If our sensory experiences are merely illusions, then science would be impossible.

     Consider one more crucial example: laws of logic. We all presume that there are laws of logic that govern correct reasoning. Earlier in this chapter I stated that contradictions cannot be true. It probably didn’t occur to any reader to question that claim; it is a law of logic that we all take for granted. And yet how could we prove that there are laws of logic? We would have to first assume them in order to begin a logical proof. Therefore, laws of logic constitute a precondition of intelligibility. They must be assumed before we can even begin to reason about anything — including reasoning about the laws of logic themselves.

     We take for granted that our senses and memory are basically reliable, and that there are laws of logic. Yet most of us do not stop to think why these things are so.

(Jason Lyle, The Ultimate Proof of Creation, [Green Forest: Master Books, 2011], pp. 38-39.)

καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria

Salvation and the Corporeal World

Note: Last Updated 7/29/2024.

Vinoth Ramachandra:

     But the cross speaks of a God who is entangled with our world, who immerses himself in our tragic history, who embraces our humanity with all its vulnerability, pain and confusion, including our evil and our death. Here is a God who comes to us not as a master but as a servant, who stoops to wash the feet of his disciples and to suffer brutalization and dehumanization at the hands of his creatures. In identifying with us in our humanity he draws the human into his own divine life. So what this means is that the closer we get to God, the more human we become, not less. And our created, physical bodies have a future. In raising Jesus from death, the Creator was affirming our humanity: this historical, embodied existence has a future.

     So our salvation lies not in an escape from this world but in the transformation of this world. Everything good and true and beautiful in history is not lost forever but will be restored and directed to the worship of God. All our human activity (in the arts and sciences, economics and politics) and even the nonhuman creation will be brought to share in the liberating rule of God. This grand vision centers on the cross of Jesus Christ. There a vision of future hope opens up for the world.

     You will not find hope for the world in any religious systems or philosophies of humankind. The biblical vision is unique. That is why when some say that there is salvation in other faiths I ask them. “What salvation are you talking about?” No faith holds out a promise of eternal salvation for the world the way the cross and resurrection of Jesus do.

(Vinoth Ramachandra, The Scandal of Jesus, [Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001], pp. 23-24.)

Timothy Keller:

When we look at the whole scope of this story line, we see clearly that Christianity is not only about getting one’s individual sins forgiven so we can go to heaven. That is an important means of God’s salvation, but not the final end or purpose of it. The purpose of Jesus’s coming is to put the whole world right, to renew and restore the creation, not to escape it. It is not just to bring personal forgiveness and peace, but also justice and shalom to the world. God created both body and soul, and the resurrection of Jesus shows that he is going to redeem both body and soul. The work of the Spirit of God is not only to save souls but also to care and cultivate the face of the earth, the material world.

     It is hard to overemphasize the uniqueness of this vision. Outside of the Bible, no other major religious faith holds out any hope or even interest in the restoration of perfect shalom, justice, and wholeness in this material world.

(Timothy Keller, The Reason For God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism, [New York: Dutton, 2008], p. 223.)

καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria

Resurrection, Truth of

Note: Last Updated 7/29/2024.

W. H. Griffith Thomas:

     The First Proof is the life of Jesus Christ Himself. It is always a disappointment when a life which commenced well finishes badly. A perfect life characterized by Divine claims ends in its prime in a cruel and shameful death. Is that a fitting close? Surely death could not end everything after such a noble career. The Gospels give the resurrection as the completion of the picture of Jesus Christ. There is no real doubt that Christ anticipated His own resurrection. At first, He used only vague terms, such as, “Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” But later on. He spoke plainly and whenever He mentioned His death, He added, “The Son of man . . . must be raised the third day.” These references are too numerous to be overlooked, and, in spite of difficulties of detail, they are, in any proper treatment of the Gospels, an integral part of the claim made for Himself by Jesus Christ.

     His veracity is at stake if He did not rise. Surely the word of such a One must be given due credence. We are, therefore, compelled to face the fact that the resurrection of which the Gospels speak is the resurrection of no ordinary man, but of Jesus—that is, of One whose life and character had been unique, and for whose shameful death no proper explanation was conceivable. Is it possible that, in view of His perfect truthfulness of word and deed, there should be such an anti-climax as is involved in a denial of His assurance that He would rise again.

     Consider, too, the death of Christ in the light of His perfect life. If that death was the close of a life so beautiful, so remarkable, so God-like, we are faced with an insoluble mystery—the permanent triumph of wrong over right, and the impossibility of believing in truth or justice in the world. So the resurrection is not to be regarded as an isolated event, a fact in the history of Christ separated from all else. It must be taken in close connection with what precedes. The true solution of the problem is to be found in that estimate of Christ which “most entirely fits in with the totality of the facts.”

(W. H. Griffith Thomas, “The Resurrection of Jesus Christ;” In: The Bible Champion: Volume 25: No. 12: December, 1919, [Reading: Frank J. Boyer, 1919], pp. 490-491.)

W. H. Griffith Thomas:

     The Second Proof is the fact of the empty tomb. That Jesus died, and was buried, and that on the third morning the tomb was empty, is not now seriously challenged. The theory of a swoon and a recovery in the tomb is impossible, and to it Strauss “practically gives its deathblow.” At Christ’s burial, a stone was rolled before the tomb, the tomb was sealed, and a guard was placed before it. Yet on the third morning the body had disappeared, and the tomb was empty. There are only two alternatives. His body must have been taken out of the grave by human hands or else by superhuman power. If the hands were human, they must have been those of His friends or His foes. If His friends had wished to take out His body, the question at once arises whether they could have done so in the face of the stone, the seal and the guard. If His foes had contemplated this action, the question arises whether they would seriously have considered it. It is extremely improbable that any effort should have been made to remove the body out of the reach of the disciples. Why should His enemies do the very thing that would be most likely to spread the report of His resurrection? Besides, the position of the grave-clothes, proves the impossibility of the theft of the body. How, too, is it possible to account for the failure of the Jews to disprove the resurrection? Not more than seven weeks afterward Peter preached in that city, the fact that Jesus had been raised. What would have been easier or more conclusive than for the Jews to have produced the dead body and silenced Peter forever? “The silence of the Jews is as significant as the speech of the Christians.”

(W. H. Griffith Thomas, “The Resurrection of Jesus Christ;” In: The Bible Champion: Volume 25: No. 12: December, 1919, [Reading: Frank J. Boyer, 1919], p. 491.)

W. H. Griffith Thomas:

     The Third Proof is the transformation of the disciples caused by the resurrection. They had seen their Master die, and through that death they lost all hope. Yet hope returned three days after. On the day of the crucifixion they were filled with sadness; on the first day of the week with gladness. At the cruicfixion [sic] they were hopeless; on the first day of the week their hearts glowed with certainty When the message of the resurrection first came, they were incredulous and hard to be convinced, but when once they became assured, they never doubted again. What could account for the astonishing change in these men in so short a time? The mere removal of the body from the grave could never have transformed their spirits and characters. Three days are not enough for a legend to spring up which should so affect them. Time is needed for a process of legendary growth. There is nothing more striking in the history of primitive Christianity than this marvelous change wrought in the disciples by a belief in the resurrection of their Master. It is a psychological fact that demands a full explanation. The disciples were prepared to believe in the appearance of a spirit, but they never contemplated the possibility of a resurrection. Men do not imagine what they do not believe, and the women’s intention to embalm a corpse shows they did not expect His resurrection. Besides a hallucination involving five hundred people at once, and repeated several times during forty days, is unthinkable.

(W. H. Griffith Thomas, “The Resurrection of Jesus Christ;” In: The Bible Champion: Volume 25: No. 12: December, 1919, [Reading: Frank J. Boyer, 1919], p. 491.)

W. H. Griffith Thomas:

     The Fourth Proof is the existence of the primitive church. “There is no doubt that the church of the apostles believed in the resurrection of their Lord.” It is now admitted on all hands that the church of Christ came into existence as the result of a belief in the resurrection of Christ. When we consider its commencement, as recorded in the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, we see two simple and incontrovertible facts: (1) the Christian society was gathered to gether by preaching; (2) The substance of the preaching was the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ was put to death on a cross, and would, therefore, be rejected by Jews as accursed of God. Yet multitudes of Jews were led to worship Him, and a great company of priests to obey Him. The only explanation of these facts is God’s act of resurrection, for nothing short of it could have led to the Jewish acceptance of Jesus Christ as their Messiah. The apostolic church is thus a result of a belief in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The early chapters of Acts bear the marks of primitive documents, and their evidence is unmistakable. It is impossible to allege that the early church did not know its own history, that myths and legends quickly grew up and were eagerly received, and that the writers of the Gospels had no conscience for principle, but manipulated their material at will, for any modern church could easily give an account of its history for the past fifty years or more. And it is simply absurd to think that the earliest church had no such capability. In reality there was nothing vague or intangible about the testimony borne by the apostles and other members of the church. “As the church is too holy for a foundation of rottenness so she is too real for a foundation of mist.”

(W. H. Griffith Thomas, “The Resurrection of Jesus Christ;” In: The Bible Champion: Volume 25: No. 12: December, 1919, [Reading: Frank J. Boyer, 1919], p. 492.)

W. H. Griffith Thomas:

     One man in the apostolic church must be singled out as a special witness to the resurrection. The conversion and work of Saul of Tarsus is our next line of proof. Attention is first called to the evidence of his life and writings to the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Some years ago an article appeared inquiring as to the conception of Christ which would be suggested to a heathen inquirer by a perusal of Paul’s earliest extant writing (1 Thess.). One point at least would stand out clearly—that Jesus Christ was killed and was raised from the dead. As this Epistle is usually dated about 51 A.D.—that is, only about 22 years after the resurrection-and as the same Epistle plainly attributes to Jesus Christ the functions of God in relation to men, we can readily see the force of this testimony to the resurrection.

     Then a few years later, in an Epistle which is universally accepted as one of St. Paul’s, we have a much fuller reference to the event. In the well-known chapter (1 Cor. 15) where he is concerned to prove (not only Christ’s resurrection but the resurrection of Christians, he naturally adduces Christ’s resurrection as his greatest evidence, and so gives a list of the various appearances of Christ, ending with one to himself, which he puts on an exact level with the others: “Last of all he was seen of me also.” Now it is essential to give special attention to the nature and particularity of this testimony. “I delivered unto you first of all that which also I received; that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures; and that He was buried; and that He hath been raised on the third day according to the Scriptures.” (1 Cor. 15. 3f). This, as it has often been pointed out, is our earliest authority for the appearances of Christ after the resurrection, and dates from within 30 years of the event itself. But there is much more than this: “He affirms that within 5 years of the crucifixion of Christ, he was taught that ‘Christ died for our sins according to the Scritpures [sic]; and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day, according to the Scriptures.’” And if we seek to appreciate the full bearing of this act and testimony we have a right to draw the same conclusion: “That within a very few years of the time of the crucifixion of Jesus, the evidence for the resurrection of Jesus was, in the mind of at least one man of education, absolutely irrefutable.” 

     Besides, we find this narrative includes one small but significant statement which at once recalls a very definite feature of the Gospel tradition—the mention of “the third day.” A reference to the passage in the Gospels where Jesus Christ spoke of His resurrection will show how prominent and persistent was this note of time. Why, then, should St. Paul have introduced it in his statement? Was it part of the teaching which he had “received?” What is the significance of this plain emphasis on the date of the resurrection? Is it not that it bears absolute testimony to the empty tomb? From all this it may be argued that St. Paul believed the story of the empty tomb at a date when the recollection was fresh, when he could examine it for himself, when he could make the fullest inquiry of others, and when the fears and opposition of enemies would have made it impossible for the adherents of Jesus Christ to make any statement that was not absolutely true. “Surely common sense requires us to believe that that for which he so suffered was in his eyes established beyond the possibility of doubt.”

     In view, therefore, of St. Paul’s personal testimony to his own conversion, his interviews with those who had seen Jesus Christ on earth before and after His resurrection, and the prominence given to the resurrection in the apostle’s own teaching, we may challenge attention afresh to this evidence for the resurrection. It is well known that Lord Lyttleton and his friend Gilbert West left Oxford University at the close of one academic year, each determined to give attention, respectively, during the long vacation to the conversion of St. Paul and the resurrection of Christ, in order to prove the baselessness of both. They met again in the autumn and compared experiences. Lord Lyttleton has become convinced of the truth of St. Paul’s conversion, and Gilbert West of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. If therefore, Paul’s 25 years of suffering and service for Christ were a reality, his conversion was true, for everything he did began with that sudden change. And if his conversion was true, Jesus Christ rose from the dead, for everything Paul was and did, he attributed to the sight of the risen Christ.—International Standard Bible Encyclopedia.

(W. H. Griffith Thomas, “The Resurrection of Jesus Christ;” In: The Bible Champion: Volume 25: No. 12: December, 1919, [Reading: Frank J. Boyer, 1919], pp. 492-493.)

καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria

Relativism

Note: Last Updated 7/29/2024.

C. S. Lewis: (The self-referential argument)

You cannot go on ‘seeing through’ things for ever. The whole point of seeing through something is to see something through it. It is good that the window should be transparent, because the street or garden beyond it is opaque. How if you saw through the garden too? It is no use trying to ‘see through’ first principles. If you see through everything, then everything is transparent. But a wholly transparent world is an invisible world. To ‘see through’ all things is the same as not to see.

(C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man: Or, Reflections on Education with Special Reference to the Teaching of English in the Upper Forms of Schools, [New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1974], p. 91.)

G. K. Chesterton:

But the new rebel is a sceptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist. And the fact that he doubts everything really gets in his way when he wants to denounce anything. For all denunciation implies a moral doctrine of some kind; and the modern revolutionist doubts not only the institution he denounces, but the doctrine by which he denounces it. Thus he writes one book complaining that imperial oppression insults the purity of women, and then he writes another book (about the sex problem) in which he insults it himself. He curses the Sultan because Christian girls lose their virginity, and then curses Mrs. Grundy because they keep it. As a politician, he will cry out that war is a waste of life, and then, as a philosopher, that all life is waste of time. A Russian pessimist will denounce a policeman for killing a peasant, and then prove by the highest philosophical principles that the peasant ought to have killed himself. A man denounces marriage as a lie, and then denounces aristocratic profligates for treating it as a lie. He calls a flag a bauble, and then blames the oppressors of Poland or Ireland because they take away that bauble. The man of this school goes first to a political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they were beasts; then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a scientific meeting, where he proves that they practically are beasts. In short, the modern revolutionist, being an infinite skeptic, is always engaged in undermining his own mines. In his book on politics he attacks men for trampling on morality; in his book on ethics he attacks morality for trampling on men. Therefore the modern man in revolt has become practically useless for all purposes of revolt. By rebelling against everything he has lost his right to rebel against anything.

(Gilbert K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, [New York: John Lane Company, 1908], pp. 73-74.)

καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria