Plagiarism and the love of God

I was struck by two news articles I read in this morning's paper that on the surface have little to do with each other, but given my present state of mind promoted some furious thinking.

The first ("Schools not yet minding Minister's cheating edict," National Post, Sept. 28/11, p. A1) bemoaned the fact that in Saskatchewan students caught cheating and plagiarizing had only to re-do the assignment, with no impact on the mark received.

[As a former university dean who dealt with student discipline issues, I can assure you that plagiarism and purchasing essays from paper mills are academic problems in far more places than just that prairie province. Amazingly, when they are caught in this particular act, students are very surprised that they are given an F for the paper, or in a few cases, for the course. They anticipate a little lecture from the kindly official, a slap on the wrist, and a chance to make it up in some progressive fashion. They found that they were dealing with the wrong dean.]

The second article ("Hardly draconian: A law professor takes readers through the government's omnibus criminal-justice bill," National Post, Sept. 28/11 p. A13) addresses, among other things, the lack of accountability for the perpetrators of serious crimes, particularly towards children.

Accountability for deliberate and serious wrongdoing is the common thread, of course. What this prompted in my mind was last Sunday's discussion at neXus on the doctrine of Hell. As those in attendance know, a local pastor and writer named Brad Jersak has written a book that attempts to show (pretty well, in my view) that the teaching regarding Hell is metaphoric and that it was never intended to indicate a literal place to which a large portion of the human race would be consigned for all eternity for their sins.

I enjoyed the discussion very much, and heartily recommend Jersak's book, Her Gates Will Never be Shut. It did leave me with a problem, however. Hell has always been seen as a means of accountability. Reject Christ--go to Hell. Too much sinning--broil for eternity. Consider the revivalist American preacher Jonathan Edwards:

The sight of Hell's torments will exalt the happiness of the saints forever...Can the believing father in Heaven be happy with his unbelieving children in Hell...I tell you, yea! Such will be his sense of justice that it will increase rather than diminish his bliss ("The Eternity of Hell Torments" (Sermon), April 1739 & Discourses on Various Important Subjects, 1738).

Or my former colleague at Regent College in Vancouver, J.I. Packer:

...love and pity for hell's occupants will not enter our hearts. "Hell's Final Enigma" in Christianity Today Magazine, April 22, 2002.

Strong stuff. But if we don't believe it (and I don't), what sort of accountability is left. Does everyone who, to use old-fashioned terminology, enters heaven start with a clean slate? John Wesley and Jim ("There is no Christian way of doing business.") Pattison? George Grant and George W. Bush? Mother Teresa and Tariq ("Mother of all battles") al-Aziz?

Once again I head out into forbidding terrain. I haven't got a clue what shape accountability takes, for members of God's kingdom, either in this life or in the one to come. I'll lay on my usual supply of pain killer (i.e., wine and Tylenol) while I plumb the depths of what is, for me, another mystery.

Wish me luck. Or drop by the wine store on my behalf. I'll be needing copious amounts of both.

Fallen from grace: Hint #4 The work of the Holy Spirit

It's been too long since I posted something on this big dilemma I'm dealing with--how can a person, who is secure in God's hand, fall from grace? This is hard enough to figure out in traditional Christian theology; i.e., why would a believer stop believing? But I find the issue even more puzzling because I hold to the "emergent" position that God's creatures are all part of his kingdom, whether or not they know it, unless they choose to abandon this favoured situation. How do you abandon God when you have never heard of him? Or don't believe in him? Or believe in someone or something else?

Perhaps we should look at what the Holy Spirit's "job" is. Is there a clue there? William Young's depiction of the Holy Spirit, or as Young calls her/him, Sarayu, offers some insight:

Both evil and darkness can only be understood in relation to Light and Good; they do not have any actual existence. I am Light and I am Good. I am Love and there is no darkness in me. Light and Good actually exist. So, removing yourself from me will plunge you into darkness. Declaring independence will result in evil because apart from me, you can only draw upon yourself. That is death because you have separated from me: Life (136).

But before I go any further on what the Spirit does 9 to 5 (and all the other hours), a brief mention of his name. Regrettably, the Third Person of the Trinity is not known by nifty titles as are the First and Second Persons.

In the Old Testament, the Hebrew word for Spirit is Ruwach meaning wind or breath. The wind, like the Spirit of God, is unseen and active in the world. In the Old Testament, He is referred to as the Spirit of God, or the Spirit of the Lord, My Spirit or just the Holy Spirit (e.g., Psalm 51:11, Isaiah 63:10,11).

In the New Testament, the Greek word for Spirit is Pneuma, which like the Hebrew is derived from the meaning of wind or breath. The Holy Spirit is also called the Comforter or Helper, translated from the Greek word Parakletos, meaning one who comes alongside to plead the case before the judge (John 14:16,26;15:26). He is also called the Spirit of Jesus (Phil. 1:19).

St. Paul speaks of the work of the Spirit in the loftiest terms in I Corinthians 2:10-11: But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God....no one knows the things of God except the Spirit of God.

I take it, then, that to reject the Spirit is to cut oneself off from any possible knowledge of God, his character, will, love, grace, and mercy.

We don't have to ask God for knowledge about himself--the Spirit is happy to do that for us. But if we blaspheme (diminish or reject the role of) the Holy Spirit, we cut ourselves off entirely from God. This action is not unforgivable in the sense that God drops about nine pounds of mercy at this point and turns his back on a person. Rather, a person chooses to turn her/his back on God, making her/himself unforgivable, or as Young put it, plunging yourself into darkness.

I think the way I have expressed this is consistent with the traditional roles assigned to the Spirit of revealing, redeeming, indwelling, and transforming. If through revelation, creation, or conscience the Holy Spirit reveals the life that God wants to empower his creatures to lead, and some reject this revelation, we have blasphemed the Spirit and cut ourselves off from God in so doing. Presumably the Spirit will persist in attempting to turn the prodigal's face around toward the Light, but her/his respect for free will and human choice means that the one rejecting these attempts will eventually become so hardened that no further work of grace will be possible.

The unforgivable sin. The fall from grace. The end of life. Death. Tragedy. The broken heart of God.

Charity begins at home--apparently

Like everyone else, I was sad to see Jack Layton's life end at such a young age. His breakthrough in Quebec was very heartening. Sharon and I drove around the Gaspe peninsula this summer. It was new territory for us, and we thoroughly enjoyed its beauty and history. But what particularly struck me in this stretch of long-time Bloc country was the number of Canadian flags we say flying along with the expected fleurs-de-lis. I was thrilled to see them and express my gratitude for Layton's fine work in enfolding more Quebecois into this great country.

On the other hand, I was puzzled--in fact, distressed--at Layton's seemingly uncaring attitude towards the incredible repression of women and others in Afghanistan during the federal campaign and particularly during the leaders' debates. He mocked poor Michael Ignatieff for arguing that an on-going Canadian military presence was necessary in that desperately needy country in order for the job of rebuilding to go on.

Yet at the same time, he and his other party members argued vociferously on behalf of the Canadian postal workers who were planning a strike this past June. The filibuster that Layton orchestrated in the House of Commons lasted nearly 60 hours. At that time, the average starting wage of a postal worker was $23/hour. Canada Post had tabled an offer that included a wage increase, a defined benefit pension plan for both new and existing employees, up to seven weeks vacation, and job security.

While not taking any position on the collective bargaining dispute, I don't think there is anyone who would argue that the postal workers are hard done by--quite the opposite. But Layton's overwhelming support for them, in contrast to his apparent low regard for the needs of Afghan women, children, Shiites and non-Muslims struck me as very odd. If this is the NDP's view of social justice, I think that Attila the Hun has company on his side of the political spectrum.

Fallen from grace: Hint # 3 Turning from obedience to wickedness

You know the old expression about painting yourself into a corner. Well, I find myself with brush in hand, standing on tiptoe trying to keep my shoes clean. How did I ever allow myself to start speculating on theological questions as if I were any good at it? This to say that the notion of falling from grace didn't seem that tough until I actually started trying to figure it out.

It would be tempting to be a universalist at this point, if only to rid myself of these complex questions. But as I've posted elsewhere, you can have free will or you can have universalism, but you can't have both. It takes free will to jump out of Christ's hand. Nobody can pull you out from between his fingers (John 10:27-29). That decision is purely one's own.

And as we've seen, the New Testament warns us in various places that giving up one's place in the Kingdom of God is a live option. Consider, for instance, St. Paul's words (employing nautical terms of which he seemed to be fond):

Timothy, my son, I give you this instruction in keeping with the prophecies once made about you, so that by following them you may fight the good fight, holding on to faith and a good conscience. Some have rejected these and so have shipwrecked their faith. Among them are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme (1 Timothy 1:18-20).

It seems, by the way, that Hymenaeus failed to learn his lesson, even with the protection of God removed:

2 Timothy 2:15 Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth. 16 Avoid godless chatter, because those who indulge in it will become more and more ungodly. 17 Their teaching will spread like gangrene. Among them are Hymenaeus and Philetus, 18 who have wandered away from the truth. They say that the resurrection has already taken place, and they destroy the faith of some. 19 Nevertheless, God’s solid foundation stands firm, sealed with this inscription: “The Lord knows those who are his,” and, “Everyone who confesses the name of the Lord must turn away from wickedness.”

...must turn away from wickedness. The Apostle John obviously was thinking along similar lines as he wrote his first epistle:

1 John1:5 This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. 6 If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. 7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.

8 If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives.

Paul and John are focusing on two things here:

1. Nobody is perfect. John matter-of-factly says that nobody can claim to be faultless, so walking in darkness isn't the same thing as falling short of perfection. Similarly, Paul tells Timothy to do his best in working for God. Clearly he wasn't expecting perfection either. Paul refers to his own failings in Romans 7:24-25 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!.

2. Perverting God's truth, rather than imperfect knowledge or occasional faltering obedience, is the big issue, especially when this action is compromising the beliefs and trust of other people. St. John is particularly graphic--if we contradict God's truth we are calling God a liar. This certainly reminds one of the sin of Lucifer--seeing himself as God's equal and able to take positions of his own that rival God's.

We keep coming back to the same themes as we explore the idea of sin finally going unpardoned: substituting one's own preferences for God's will as revealed in creation, Scripture, or conscience; thinking that these preferences (whether they be beliefs or actions) are genuine options that one would not only continue to pursue but to impress upon others to their detriment; and persisting in these illusions rather than heeding any advice or action to the contrary. Perhaps this is what it means to blaspheme the Holy Spirit.