Couldn't Help Noticing

The sins of the whole world

My seven-year-old asked me a few days ago, “If Jesus died for the sins of the whole world, why isn't everyone forgiven?”

The Bible is quite clear that it's a fair question. Jesus did die for the sins of the whole world. John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life”. But it's equally clear that not all are forgiven, since we read two verses later that “Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God”.

So I told my daughter that it's a bit like when you're at a birthday party and the host at the end of the party has enough lolly bags for everyone there, and even a few extras in case a younger sister has snuck in under the radar. As you leave the party, you can refuse a lolly bag. There's plenty for everyone, but if you don't want one, you don't have to have one.

I can't think of any major holes in the illustration yet. But the other thing my daughter and I did straight away was pray for the friends we knew who didn't love Jesus--that they would come to know him and not refuse his gift.

The Pope and his quote

(From Shaun McGregor, one of our Briefing readers in Kurrajong, Australia.)

Reports on the reaction to the Pope's comments are everywhere: Muslims around the world were outraged, church leaders were scrambling to repair the damage, even the Prime Minister put in his 2 cents.

Finding what the Pope had actually said—apart from a few words from a 600-year-old quote—was far more difficult. Finally my googling bore fruit.

What did I find? First and foremost, a very highbrow discussion of the relationship between faith and reason—far above the ability of mere mortals like me to follow. Immersed amongst all the big words was a quote from a 14th-century Pope by the name of Manuel who seemed to be arguing the very old-fashioned idea that compelling someone to change religion by the threat of death was self-evidently a bad thing—that “spreading the faith through violence is something unreasonable”. And in Manuel's opinion, Muhammad had been in favour of that sort of unreasonableness—presumably because he thought that's what Muhammad said in the Koran.

The whole reference to Islam was no more than an archaic starting point for a lengthy discussion of a completely different topic, and at no point did the current Pope endorse the quote in any way.

Surely everyone agrees spreading religion by violence is not a good idea (at least everyone who spoke out in the media thought so), and I don't think there can be any doubt that at least some parts of the Koran promote the idea. And let's be honest: there's no doubt that Christians have sometimes been guilty of such ‘unreasonable’ behaviour. The big question is: why can't you talk about it?

Stephen Bates from the British Guardian newspaper put it well:

[I]f you cannot, as part of a lengthy and profound academic lecture, cite a 600-year-old text for fear of stirring the aggravation of noisy politicians halfway around the world, what CAN you do? We might as well all retreat into obscurantism. And keep our mouths shut, for otherwise, who knows who we might offend. And if, as a result of the outrage, some Catholics get killed or their churches burned down by offended scholars and textual exegesists it might be thought that Manuel's original point had rather been made.

Chocolate and chips

If my kids were given the run of the place and were allowed to set the rules, what would their day look like? Apart from the absence of school, I'm guessing their activities would involve a copious diet of computer gaming, msn (if you don't know what this is, ask someone under 20), music downloads, TV, chocolate and chips.

What these delights have in common is that they are all easy, enjoyable and entertaining. They are ‘more-ish’. Their appeal is obvious, the satisfaction immediate, and the possible negative consequences of over-consumption remote enough to be ignored.

It is the same with counterfeit versions of Christianity. “The gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many”, says Jesus (Matt 7:13). When movements spring up that are inclusive and entertaining, and which attract many customers, alarm bells should go off. Is this one of the ‘broad and easy ways’?

But we, like spiritual children given the run of the house, are inclined to consume whatever looks attractive, and then go back for more.

According to the New Testament, the way of godliness is more like solid meat and three veg than chocolate and chips. Consider Paul's advice to Timothy in 1 Timothy 4 about what to do in the face of alternative teachings: train yourself in godliness, command and teach, set an example, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, practise these things, devote yourself to them, keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching ...

This is not easy, thrill-a-minute Christianity. But it does have one distinct advantage that Paul concludes with: “Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers”.

Peace on Earth

“Is your town peaceful?”

This question was posed to me by a 10-year-old boy from Eritrea, Africa. We correspond through letters a few times a year. Upon my initial reading through his letter, I didn't think much of the question. Not much of anything happens in my hometown, Pulaski. We do get some Amish upheavals every once in a while when cars don't share the road fairly with their horse and buggies, but that's about it.

As I wrote back to my 10-year-old correspondent, I was struck greatly by the context of his question. He grew up in a war-torn part of the world. He has never known anything other than violence and war. His father died because of violence. His village is under constant threat. Eritrea's location is just across the Red Sea from Yemen and Saudi Arabia, thus making it susceptible to Islamic extremism. He has never experienced peace in the way I have—peace I often take for granted. In fact, it is probably just as strange for him to imagine his hometown in peacetime as it is for me to think of Pulaski in wartime.

Still, he goes to church and is open about his faith in God. How eager he must be to experience the glorious peace of the new creation.

This 10-year-old boy gave me a much-needed reminder to thank God for the peace he has given to me and to most people who live in the West. Even more, it motivated me to keep praying for those who experience everything but peace in their lives.

If it wasn’t so sad…

This story in the Times about an Anglican minister converting to Hinduism and moving to India, and yet having his Anglican license renewed by his UK Bishop, is a worry.

Sure, I feel desperately sad for a clergyman who is so confused about the Christian gospel that he cannot see any problem with him making offerings to a snake god. But what worries me even more is the notion that someone who is supposed to be his “pastor” (i.e. his bishop) was so unaware of where one of his clergy was at, both spiritually (and for that matter geographically), that it could get to this ridiculous stage.