On Election, pt.4

 Election, pt. 4 

 

Quick Notes: There are two events coming up soon that may be of interest to you. The first is a “Matthew 25” event by the PCUSA, on October 28 at 11:00am, looking at the challenge of global, systemic poverty. For information, click here. The second is a Webinar on “Creating and Maintaining Empowering Mission Partnerships” on Thursday, Oct. 29, at 7:00pm by the Presbytery of Los Ranchos. For information, click here. (Full disclosure: I’m a panelist.) 

 

It has been said about those who believe in the philosophical doctrine of determinism, and likewise can be said about those who believe in the theological doctrine of election: “If you throw a baseball at their head, they will duck.” What they won’t do is just sit there thinking, “God has chosen everything that happens, so Imma let this ball smack me in the head.” The conversation about election is simply not that daft.

 

Everyone, regardless of their philosophical or theological bent, has to deal with the senselessness of chance, luck, happenstance, and unintended consequences – whether it seems to work in our favor or bedevil us. For example, one of the Scriptures that the doctrine of election is based on is the often repeated “Jacob have I loved; Esau have I hated.” We can – and should – nuance the words “love” and “hate” in this phrase, but the shock value of keeping them is what forces us to take election seriously. If God chose Jacob (aka, the People of Israel) over Esau (Israel’s enemies in the OT era), the verbs “love” and “hate” bring that free act of God’s choosing into bold relief. Do we dare say something like this about God? Do we even dare say something like this about the way the world works? If God is sovereign in some way over the world, can we look at great events and say that the results were God’s doings? Abraham Lincoln, in his second inaugural address, could only look at the War Between the States and say, “The Almighty has His own purposes.” That is similar to the humble wonder that concludes the story of Job. Sometimes that’s the best one can say when believing in an “almighty” but unable to make sense of how things happen in the world. 

 

Science offers an analogous puzzle for us. J.S. Whale once fabulously said, “The modern mind which is revolted by this doctrine of Election cheerfully accepts the modern doctrine of Selection, and is not appalled by the thought: ‘The warm-blooded mammals have I loved, but the Ichthyosauri have I hated.’”[1] The problem of randomness does not diminish just because we call it evolutionary selection rather than divine election. And the angst of the question of election arises any time we hear of a disaster that seems to strike randomly (“act of God” according to insurance claims), or anything that seems unfair and undeserved, like the death of a child. Sometimes we try to console ourselves with the words, “Everything has a purpose” or “God is in control” or “All things work together for the good.” (Friend alert: These phrases may offer comfort when we appropriate them for ourselves, but they rarely have that effect when we say them to others who have experienced tragedies.) While these words point to something true and comforting, they often feel empty and unsatisfying.

 

The doctrine of election aims at this feeling of emptiness and dissatisfaction. I read recently that John Calvin – whom many people ‘blame’ for the doctrine of election – considered it a great mystery, to be approached with trembling and faith. He did not see it as a stern doctrine of inescapable judgment and doom for some, but as a comforting doctrine, because it did not leave salvation up to fragile humans, but to a God whose steadfast love endures forever. 

 

I will pick up on this thread next week. There’s still a lot more to ponder here.

 

Cheers, 

Mark of St. Mark

 

---

[1] The Protestant Tradition: An Essay in Interpretation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1955), p.143.

On Election, pt.3

 Note: I have heard that some of you have been reticent to sign up for in person worship because you do not want to take up a space that someone else might want or need. What a beautiful concern! Here’s how you can address it. So far, we have not had to deny anyone because we’ve reached our max capacity. Even so, when you register there is a space for you to add a note. Simply indicate that, if we reach our max, you would be happy to yield your seat to someone else. Then, if that is necessary, we’ll contact you with thanks. If not, you’re in!

 

During this month I am addressing the topic of election. You can read the two previous essays on my blog here. Today I want to address the most common way that people think about election: “Election means that we are predestined to go to heaven or hell regardless of what we believe, how we live, or what we choose.” If election is that automatic, we appear to be nothing more than programmed robots, and here we are imagining that we have lives of passion, conscience, deliberation, and choice. 

 

First, let me say, this common presentation of election is simply not biblical. Biblical election is when the texts express confidence in God’s power and God’s goodness together. And, biblical election is found in texts that deflate human arrogance by reminding us that some folks have ears to hear and some don’t; some folks have hearts that are hardened and some don’t; and that God is free to initiate, rather than dependent on our invocations or incantations. So, something as simple as beginning a prayer with “God is great, God is good” reflects part of the biblical tradition that ascribes sovereignty and freedom to God. Still, it is overspeaking to describe election as God’s whim that takes away human agency. There are too many texts, stories, testimonies, and claims in the Scriptures that express the human capacity to participate in, to follow, to trust in, and to respond to God. Claims about God’s power and goodness do not preclude human choice and will. In fact, the name “Israel” means “one who wrestles with God.” That’s not a robot. 

 

Also, the chief way that God is described – perhaps the only claim that tries to get to God’s essence – is that “God is love.” The nature of love, insofar as we understand and experience it, is that for love to be genuine it requires freedom. Therefore, if God’s love is important to us, then God’s freedom to love (or not) is important to us. And love not only requires freedom to be given, it grants freedom to be reciprocated. God’s freedom to love and our freedom to respond are expressed and implied repeatedly in the most repeated phrase of Scripture, “God’s steadfast love endures forever.” 

 

So, election, as God’s free choice to love, really is a thing in the Scriptures. All of the great stories then begin with God’s free choice: Creation begins with “Let us make ….” The promise to Abraham begins with God’s choice. God consistently exercises freedom by choosing the younger over the older (Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau), inverting the typical means of allocating power in the Ancient Near East. And, of course, in the New Testament, it is God who sends God’s son to bring salvation. 

 

However, while the idea of “election,” as God freely choosing, is the foundation for the biblical stories, that is far different from a definition of election that makes God an arbitrary power and that reduces us to robots. Love requires freedom, yes, but it also requires vulnerability. And that is where we’ll pick it up next week. 

 

Mark of St. Mark 

On Election, pt. 2

As you might remember from last week, I am spending October talking about election. Last week I invited you to think of all of the “givens” in your life – the abilities, proclivities, qualities, and other traits that were given to you long before you made any conscious decisions or choices about your life. And, as I said last week, the ‘givens’ have enormous consequences for who you are, how you live, what you do in life, who you love, and how you roll. That part of your life is primarily what the doctrine of election aims to address. Paul’s question, “What do you have the you did not receive?” invites to approach our faith with the starting point of “the givens.” 

 

One implication that starting with “the givens” has for us is that our theology – our inquiry into who God is before us and who we are before God – is grounded in humility. The 19^th century Reformed theologian Friederich Schleiermacher articulated this starting point in a way that has always been helpful to me. Speaking of religion in general, Schleiermacher argued that the beginning of religion is “the feeling of absolute dependence.” The very fact of my existence, of existence itself, is a reality into which I am thrown prior to any exercise of free will on my part. Is existence itself not worthy of wonder? And not only the fact of existence itself, but the capacity that you and I have to wonder at existence is another given for us. Rene Descartes expressed the philosophical conclusion to his method of doubt as, “I think, therefore I am.” I would express the religious starting point as “I am, therefore I wonder.” 

 

To me, this starting point of ‘existence that leads us to wonder’ is the chief purpose of any doctrine of election. “But wait!” you may be thinking, “Isn’t ‘election’ all about whether we are destined to go to heaven or hell?” That is indeed how most conversations about election go. I do not think that is exactly how Augustine of the 4^th-5^th century or John Calvin of the 16^th century – the two most prominent theologians who are invoked in conversations about election – intended for it to go. But, that is how the conversation has normally played out, whether by advocates for the doctrine of election or opponents to it. I find that unfortunate, but history rarely asks my opinion about things like that. 

 

So, next week let’s look precisely at this question of whether the doctrine of election means that I am personally destined to go to heaven or hell, regardless of how I live, what I believe, or what I want. It is a compelling question in many ways, a misshapen on in others (in my humble opinion). 

 

Until then, Cheers,

 

Mark of St. Mark

 

On Election, pt. 1

I am going to spend the month of October talking about election. No, not “the election.” I have plenty of opinions about that, but this is not the place for me to share most of them. I really don’t talk about partisan politics a lot, but I do address matters of truth and justice that have often been politicized. There’s a significant difference. 

 

Still, that’s not what I am talking about this month. I’ll be discussing the doctrine of divine election that has been part of Reformed theology from its inception and part of many theologies prior to that. This topic has been in play much longer than democracy and electoral votes. And it aims to address something quite different than our electoral process. In the electoral process, we exercise our voice and we choose leadership, policies, and directions. The doctrine of election rests not on our choosing, but on our having been chosen; not our initiative, but God’s initiative; not our will, but God’s will. And, frankly, because it does not rest on our choosing, our initiative, and our will, many people reject or simply do not like the doctrine of election. 

 

If you are someone to whom ‘election’ and its sister-term ‘predestination’ give the heebie-jeebies, I hope to persuade you to reconsider it over this month. Here I go. 

 

I invite you to begin by thinking of some of the most significant things about your life, some of which seem essential and some accidental. You are human, not a rabbit. You are male, female, transgender, non-binary, or your gender is fluid or unique. You may be attracted to males, females, both, all of the above, or none of the above. You were born into a family (for good or for ill), into a particular national identity, with a particular ethnicity. You are tall, short, or of medium height relative to others. You are left-handed, right-handed, or ambidextrous. You can roll your tongue or not and cilantro may taste like an herb or like soap to you. Except for rolling a tongue and eating cilantro, most of these distinctions have enormous consequences for who you are, how you live, what you do in life, who you love, and how you roll. And, you did not choose a single one of them. They were given to you, either via your DNA or by the happenstances of your birth. Perhaps you have made many choices related to these given qualities of your life. But, long before you made any of those choices, your identity was shaped by all of these “givens.” 

 

If nothing else, the doctrine of election invites us to pay attention to the “givens” – dare I say, “the given-ness of the givens.” That’s what the Apostle Paul was encouraging those feuding Corinthians to do when he asked, “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?” 

 

So, if nothing else, let’s start this conversation where it belongs: Not with the question, “What about my freedom?” but the question, “What do I have that I did not receive? And if I received it, why do I boast as if it were not a gift?” 

 

Then we’re on our way to talking about divine election. 

 

 Mark of St. Mark