المداخل المتاحة للدفاعيات – فتح الباب للإيمان – أليستر ماكجراث (الدفاعيات المجردة)

المداخل المتاحة للدفاعيات – فتح الباب للإيمان – أليستر ماكجراث (الدفاعيات المجردة)

المداخل المتاحة للدفاعيات – فتح الباب للإيمان – أليستر ماكجراث (الدفاعيات المجردة)

يمكن تشبيه الدفاعيات بإزاحة الستار حتى يتمكن الناس من رؤية لمحة لما يختبئ وراءها، أو يرفع ماسة مقابل النور فتتلألأ وجوهها وتبرق عند سقوط أشعة الشمس عليها. فالدفاعيات تهتم بتأسيس مداخل للإيمان، سواءً تخيلنا هذه المداخل فتح أبواب، أو إزاحة ستار، أو إضاءة مصباح حتى يرى الناس بمزيد من الوضوح، أو استخدام عدسة تضع الأشياء في البؤرة.

والموضوعات الرئيسية في الدفاعيات هي تلك التي تتيح للناس رؤية الأشياء بوضوح، وربما للمرة الأولى، تساعدهم على اكتشاف الأفكار المضللة، فيدركون فجأة سر ما يتمتع به الإيمان المسيحي من قدرة على الإقناع على المستوى الفكري وجاذبية على المستوى التخيلي.

فالدفاعيات تقوم بمد الجسور التي يعبر عليها الناس من العالم الذي يعرفونه إلى العالم الذي يودون اكتشافه، وتساعدهم في العثور على أبواب ربما لم يسمعوا بها من قبل، فيرَون عالماً يفوقُ كل تخيلاتهم ويدخلون فيه. والدفاعيات تفتح العيون وتفتح الأبواب بتأسيس مداخل للإيمان المسيحي. فما هي المداخل التي نقصدها؟

حتى عهد قريب، كان الاتجاه السائد في الدفاعيات يعتمد على استخدام الحجج للدفاع عن الإيمان المسيحي بشكل عقلاني. إلا أن هذا الاتجاه كان يمثل إلى حد كبير استجابة لثقافة عقلانية اتخذت من التوافق مع العقل معيارًا للحق. وسنرى أن استخدام الحجة ما زال يمثل جزءًا لا يتجزأ من الدفاعيات المسيحية ولا يجب تهميشه أبدًا. إلا أن تراجع المذهب العقلاني في الثقافة الغربية أدى إلى الإقلال من أهميتها. وخلَق جوًا يتطلب إدراكَ جوانب أخرى في الإيمان المسيحي، وعلى رأسها ما يتمتع به من جاذبية عظمى على مستوى الخيال، والأخلاق.

والكُتاب المسيحيون القدامى، وخاصةً كُتاب العصور الوسطى وعصر النهضة، علقوا أهمية كبرى على الصور التشبيهية والقصص الكتابية في تعليم الأشخاص المخلصين، إلا أن صعود تيار الحداثة أدى إلى الحط من قيمة هذين العنصرين، بقدر ما أدى ظهور تيار ما بعد الحداثة إلى إعادة اكتشاف قوة تأثيرهما.

وقد أدى نمو تيار ما بعد الحداثة مؤخرًا إلى تأكيد أهمية القصة والصورة من جديد لأن كلاً منهما يجذب الخيال البشري بشكل خاص. وكل من له دراية بتاريخ الدفاعيات المسيحية لا يصعب عليه أن يدرك أن المدافعين القدامى كانوا يعتمدون اعتمادًا كبيرًا على هذين العنصرين باعتبارهما مداخل للإيمان، وخاصةً في عصر النهضة. ولذلك، فنحن بحاجة لاستعادة هذه الأساليب القديمة في الدفاعيات لخلق منهج متوازن يدافع عن الإيمان المسيحي ويبرز جماله في ظل ما تشهده ثقافتنا من تحولات.

وعلينا أن نكيف دفاعياتنا بم يتلاءم مع مستمعينا، مع الانتباه لوجود عدة نقاط للتلاقي بين الإنجيل والنفس البشرية. ويتضح أن العهد الجديد نفسه يُعنى بربط الإنجيل مع مفاهيم وخبرات المتلقين على اختلاف نزعاتهم. فإن كانت النفس تَعطش لله “كَأَرضٍ يَابِسَةٍ” (مز143: 6)، فكيف ترتوي؟ إن مهمتنا تحديد القنوات المتاحة التي تتدفق فيها مياه الإنجيل الحية فتنعش النفس البشرية وتغيرها، ثم استخدام هذه القنوات بأمانة وفاعلية. وفي هذا الفصل سأستخدم صورة المدخل لتساعدنا على فهم هذه المنهجيات المختلفة.

المداخل والدفاعيات: بعض الأفكار:

تُعتبر صورة الشمس والنافذة من أهم الصور التي استخدمها اللاهوتيون في العصور الوسطى لشرح ما تجريه نعمة الله من تغيير في النفس البشرية. وتُعَد كتابات “ألن الذي من لِيل” Alan of Lille (المتوفى سنة 1203) مثالاً جيدًا على هذا حيث يشَبه النفس البشرية بحجرة باردة مظلمة. ولكن عندما تُفتح النافذة على مصراعيها، يندفع نور الشمس إلى الحجرة فيشيع فيها النور والدفء.

إلا أن فتح النافذة لا يدفئ الغرفة ولا ينيرها، ولكنه يزيل حاجزاً من أمام القوة التي يمكنها أن تفعل ذلك، فسبب التغيير الحقيقي هو الشمس. وكل ما نفعله نحن أننا نزيل الحاجز الذي يمنع نور الشمس وحرارتها من دخول الحجرة.

وهذه الصورة تساعدنا على إدراك هذه الفكرة اللاهوتية، وهي أننا لا نتسبب في تغيير الناس وقبولهم للإيمان. ويؤكد “ألن” أننا نحن الذين لا بد أن نفتح نافذة عقولنا على مصراعيها، فتتمكن نعمة الله من العمل في حياتنا، وهكذا ينحصر دورنا في إزالة العوائق من أمام نعمة الله، أما تجديد نفوسنا فهو مهمة هذه النعمة الإلهية. إلا أن الصورة مهمة في مجال الدفاعيات أيضًا، فهي تُذكرنا أن الله هو من يغير النفوس، وتؤكد في الوقت نفسه أننا قادرون على تيسير هذه العملية بالمساهمة في إزالة الحواجز والعوائق التي تقف أمام نعمة الله.

والمدخل وسيلة تنفتح بها عيوننا على حقيقة حالتنا، وقدرة الإنجيل على تغييرها. ولكي نفهم هذه النقطة المهمة، تخيل أنك مصاب بتسمم في الدم، وحياتك ستنتهي في غضون ساعات لو لم تحصل على الأدوية اللازمة، ولكنك لا تعرف ما أصابك على وجه التحديد، ولا تعرف بوجود علاج لهذه الحالة. حاول أن تتخيل نفسك في ذلك الموقف. والآن فكِّر في الطرق التالية التي يمثل كلٌّ منها مدخلاً يؤدي إلى تغيير وضعك:

  1. يخبرك طبيب من أصدقائك أن ما تعانيه هو تسمم في الدم، ويشرح لك أن هذه الحالة إن لم تعالج تؤدي إلى الوفاة، ويعطيك أسماء عدة أدوية ويخبرك بالمكان الذي تحصل عليها منه وبكيفية استخدامها.
  2. يخبرك صديق آخر أنه أصيب بهذه الأعراض عينها، إلا أن شخصًا أخبره بدواء معين أنقذ حياته. يقترح عليك أن تجرب هذا الدواء. أي أنه يحكي لك قصته الشخصية التي تتقابل مع قصتك في هذه النقطة الحرجة.

الطريقة الأولى تمثل حجة تستند إلى أدلة، أما الثانية قصة تستند إلى خبرة شخصية يرى صاحبها أنها مطابقة للموقف الذي تمر به. ورغم أن كل أسلوب يختلف تمامًا عن الآخر، فكلٌّ منهما يمثل مدخلاً. كيف؟

أولاً، كلٌّ منهما يساعدك على رؤية الأمور على حقيقتها. ثانياً، كلٌّ منهما يتيح لك أن تدرك ما يجب فعله لتغيير الأوضاع. ثالثًا، كلٌّ منهما يشجعك على اتخاذ تلك الخطوة الحاسمة بالحصول على الدواء، وتناوله حتى تتحسن حالتك.

إن الدواء هو سبب شفائك، ولكنك لو لم تدرك حقيقة حالتك، وأنك تحتاج للدواء، لكان شفاؤك مستحيلاً. ونعمة الله هي الدواء، وبعد أن تُشفى بهذه النعمة يمكنك أن تساعد الآخرين على إدراك حاجتهم لها، ويمكنك أن تشهد عن قوتها. والله هو من يغير الناس ويأتي بهم للإيمان. أنت جزء صغير (ولكنه حقيقي) في عملية الشفاء هذه. ومن ثم، فما تقوله يمكن أن يمثل مدخلاً يسمح للناس برؤية الأمور من منظور مختلف، مما يساعدهم على تخيل طريقة جديدة للتفكير والعيش.

فما هذه المداخل المتاحة للدفاعيات المسيحية؟ سوف نبحث في هذا الفصل بعض الإمكانات المتوفرة للدفاعيات. وسنبدأ بأبسط الأساليب الدفاعية، ألا وهي شرح ماهية المسيحية.

المدخل الأول: الشرح:

أفضل دفاع عن المسيحية هو شرحها. أي أنك إن أردت أن تدافع عن المسيحية أو تبرز جمالها، فأفضل السبل لذلك أن تبدأ بتعريف الناس بماهية المسيحية، لأن الكثيرين لديهم مفاهيم خاطئة عن المسيحية تعيق قبولهم للإيمان.

ومن أروع الأمثلة على ذلك مثال يقدمه اللاهوتي العظيم القديس أغسطينوس الذي قبِل الإيمان بعد جولة طويلة في أراضي الفلسفة المجدبة.[1] كان أغسطينوس شابًا موهوبًا في الخطابة من شمال أفريقيا، وقد صاحب المانويين، وهي طائفة كانت شديدة الانتقاد للمسيحية، هكذا استقى جُل معرفته بالمسيحية من نقادها، لم تكن بالمعرفة الدقيقة. ورفض أغسطينوس المسيحية باعتبارها لا تستحق اهتمام شخص في ثقافته وذكائه.

وكان أغسطينوس طموحًا، فقرر أن يكون رجلاً ناجحًا في عاصمة الإمبراطورية، فغادر شمال أفريقيا متجهًا إلى روما. وبعد فترة وجيزة من وصوله، عُرِضَت عليه وظيفة خطيب عام في ميلانو، وهي المدينة الرئيسية في شمال إيطاليا. ونظرًا لإدراكه بأن هذه الوظيفة يمكن أن تمثل بداية لحياة مهنية ذات شأن في العمل المدني بالإمبراطورية، رحب أغسطينوس بالعرض. إلا أنه كان يعلم أيضًا أن تقدمه في المجال السياسي يعتمد على قدراته البلاغية. فمن يستطيع أن يساعده في تطوير هذه المهارات؟

اكتشف أغسطينوس بعد وصوله إلى ميلانو أن أمبروز Ambrose أسقف المدينة المسيحي مشهور ببراعته في الخطابة، فقرر أن يكتشف بنفسه ما إذا كان يستحق هذه الشهرة. فكان كل يوم أحد يتسلل إلى الكاتدرائية الكبيرة في المدينة ويستمع لعظات الأسقف. وفي البداية لم يكن اهتمامه بالعظات سوى اهتمام الشخص المتخصص الذي ينظر للعظة باعتبارها خطبة فخمة. ولكن محتوى العظات بداً يستحوذ عليه تدريجيًا.

اعتدت أن أسمع عظاته متحمسًا، ولكني لم أكن مدفوعاً لذلك بالدافع الصحيح، بل كنتُ أريد أن أختبر مهارته في الخطابة لأرى ما إذا كانت طلاقته أفضل مما قيل لي عنه أم أدنى… ولكني لم أكن مهتمًا بما يقول، وكانت أذناي لا تتجه سوى نحو أسلوبه في الخطابة… إلا أنه كما دخلت الكلمات التي أمتعتني إلى عقلي، هكذا دخلت المادة التي لم أكن أعبأ بها في بادئ الأمر، حتى إني لم أتمكن من الفصل بينهما. فبينما كنت أفتح قلبي لفصاحته، دخل معها أيضًا الحق الذي كان يعلنه.[2]

وكما يتضح من رحلة أغسطينوس الطويلة إلى الإيمان، نجح أمبروز (الذي أصبح أغسطينوس يعتبره واحدًا من أبطال اللاهوت) في إزالة عائق ضخم من طريق الإيمان. فقد أبطل مفعول الصورة المغلوطة التي روجتها المانوية عن المسيحية. وبعد أن استمع أغسطينوس لأمبروز بدأ يدرك أن المسيحية أكثر جاذبية وإقناعًا مما كان يظن بكثير. وهكذا أزيل عائق يقف أمام الإيمان. وبالرغم من أن أغسطينوس لم يؤمن بالمسيحية إلا بعد فترة، فقد كان لقاؤه مع أمبروز علامة بارزة على طريق البحث.

ولابد أن البعض ممن نلتقي بهم في خدمتنا الدفاعية يحمل أفكارًا مضللة ومشوهة تمامًا عن المسيحية. وهذه المفاهيم الخاطئة التي يلتقطها البعض دون وعي، والبعض الآخر ينشرها عن قصد، لابد من تحديدها وإبطال مفعولها بخطة مُحكمة مدروسة.

ننتقل الآن لنبحث ما قد يُعتبر أكثر مداخل الإيمان شيوعًا، ألا وهو استخدام الحجة المنطقية.

المدخل الثاني: الحجة:

تؤكد المنهجيات الكلاسيكية في الدفاعيات أهمية العقل في كلٍّ من بناء حجة فكرية تؤيد فكرة وجود الله، ونقد الأفكار المغايرة. وقد بحثنا فيما سبق دور الحجج في الدفاع عن وجود الله، ومنها:

  1. الحجة المبنية على التصميم argument from design: وهي تَعتبر أن ملاحظة التصميم الموجود في العالم، مثل ما يميزه من “ضبط دقيق”، أو بنية معقدة يشير إلى أن الله هو المصمم (ص 99، 100).
  2. الحجة المبنية على الإنشاء argument from origination: إن كانت للكون بداية، فهذا يعني أن له مسببًا أنشأه، وقد يكون هذا المسبب شخصًا أو شيئًا، وهو ما يشير تلقائيًا إلى فكرة الله في المسيحية باعتباره خالقَ كل شيء (ص 96- 98).
  3. الحجة المبنية على الترابط argument from coherence: وهنا نركز على قدرة الإيمان المسيحي أن يقدم تفسيرًا لما نلاحظه في العالم المحيط ولما نختبره داخلنا (ص79- 86، 101- 103).
  4. الحجة المبنية على الأخلاق argument from morality: تقول هذه الحجة باستحالة وجود قواعد ثابته وموثوق بها للقيم الأخلاقية إلا إذا كان لها أساس يتجاوز هذا العالم المادي، كإله بار مثلاً (ص 104-109).

وقائمة الحجج تطول، ولكن لابد أن نأخذ في اعتبارنا أن هذه الحجج لا يجب أن تُفهم على أنها “براهين” بالمعنى المنطقي الدقيق للكلمة. ولكن ما توضحه هذه الحجج بكل جلاء أن الإيمان بالله له أسباب وجيهة، أو أن الإيمان بالله له مبرراته، حتى وإن كان لا يمكن البرهنة عليه بشكل مطلق.

وكلمة “برهان” بمعناها الدقيق لا تنطبق إلا على المنطق والرياضيات، فكما يمكننا أن نبرهن على أن الكل أكبر من الجزء، يمكننا أن نبرهن أن 2+2 =4. إلا أنه يجب أن نحترس من الخلط بين “قابلية البرهنة” و”الحق”. ففي مطلع القرن العشرين أثبت عالم الرياضيات العظيم “كرت جودل” Kurt Gödel أنه بالرغم من كثرة ما نصوغه من قواعد الاستدلال، ستظل هناك بعض الاستدلالات التي لا تخضع لهذه القواعد، ومع ذلك فهي مقبولة.

أي أن هناك عددًا من الأفكار الصحيحة التي قد لا يمكننا إثبات صحتها،[3] وهذه الحقيقة تنطوي على معانٍ غاية في الأهمية من الناحية الفلسفية.[4]

ويمكن استخدام الحجج أيضًا في نقد بدائل الإيمان المسيحي وتقييمها، وذلك بإظهار عدم ترابطها على المستوى الفكري أو افتقارها لأساس من الأدلة يمكن الوثوق به. فقد أبرزنا مثلاً عبر صفحات هذا الكتاب قدرة الإنجيل على خلق معنى للأشياء.

ونحن بذلك لا نحصر جاذبية المسيحية في أبعادها العقلانية فحسب، لأنها غنية بالجوانب الوجدانية، والأخلاقية، والتخيلية، والوجودية. ويجب على المدافع الذي يتحلى بروح المسئولية أن يستفيد منها استفادة كاملة. ولا شك أن الكثيرين ينجذبون إلى الإيمان المسيحي بسبب قدرته على خلق معنى للأشياء.

ولكن ماذا عن بدائل المسيحية؟ ما مدى قدرة النظم المنافسة على خلق معنى للأشياء؟ هل تصمد أمام اختبار الاتساق التجريبي، أي هل تنجح نظرياتها في خلق معنى للملاحظة وللخبرة؟ وقد أكدنا في فصل سابق أهمية إظهار ما يميز الإيمان المسيحي من قدرة على خلق معنى لملاحظاتنا وخبراتنا. ولا يكفي هنا أن يقتصر المدافع على إظهار تفوق المسيحية في هذا الصدد، ولكنه لا بد أن يبين قصور البدائل الأخرى.

ويرجع الفضل في تصميم هذا الأسلوب لواحد من أهم المدافعيين الكتابيين في أمريكا الشمالية أثناء القرن العشرين، وهو “فرانسيس شِفَر” (1912- 1984). ويُبرز أسلوب “شِفَر” في الدفاعيات الكثير من النقاط التي تناولناها في هذا الكتاب.[5]

فهو يلفت النظر مثلاً لأهمية أخذ الجمهور في الاعتبار، والابتعاد عن استخدام منهج موحد للجميع: “إن أردنا أن نتواصل مع مستمعينا، لابد أن نصرف الوقت والجهد لنفهم لغتهم، حتى نوصل لهم الرسالة باللغة التي يفهمونها.”[6] أي أن المدافع لابد أن يستمع لجمهوره حتى يتعلم لغتهم ليتمكن من التواصل معهم بهذه اللغة.

ويبدو أن “شِفَر” اكتشف بنفسه أهمية الإصغاء لأفكار جمهوره ومخاوفهم وتطلعاتهم أثناء عمله المرسلي في المنطقة الناطقة بالفرنسية في سويسرا في أواخر الخمسينات وفي الستينات من القرن العشرين. ونظرًا لأنه كان يقيم في كوخ سويسري (اسمه “لابري” L’Abri وهو مشتق من الكلمة الفرنسية التي تعنى “مأوى” أو “ملجأ”) في قرية بجبال الألب تدعى “إيموز” Huemoz، فقد كان يستضيف الكثير من الطلاب الذين يتجولون في أنحاء أوروبا، ولاسيما الشباب الأمريكيين الذين كانون يتجولون في مختلف البلدان الأوروبية بحقيبة ظهر.

فكان يسمع آرائهم في الأفلام والروايات المعاصرة أو في الفلسفات الجديدة التي ظهرت آنذاك. وكان يتساءل كيف يمكن تقديم الكتاب المقدس بشكل يناسب الأفكار الوجودية العنيدة التي روجها الفلاسفة المؤثرون في تلك الحقبة مثل “جان بول سارتر”  Jean Paul Sartreوكذلك “سورن كيركجارد”. وإذ استمع “شِفَر” لهؤلاء الطلاب وهم يُعبرون عن أفكارهم، اكتشف أنه يمكنه التفاعل معهم في مستواهم وبلغتهم، مستخدمًا صورًا توضيحية من عالمهم ليساعدهم على إدراك معقولية الإيمان المسيحي.

إلا أن أعظم إساهم قدمه “شِفَر” للدفاعيات يكمن في الأهمية التي يعلقها على تحديد مَواطن الصراع في الفلسفات غير المسيحية واكتشاف ما تنطوي عليه من معانٍ أشمل. والمقصود أن أي فلسفة حياتية ترتكز على افتراضات مسبقة معينة، فإن كانت هذه الافتراضات المسبقة من صنع الإنسان ولا تتضمن تفويضًا أو تخويلاً إلهيًّا، فلن تتمكن من التوافق مع بِنَى الكون الذي خلقه الله.

كلما كان مَن يؤمن بفكر غير مسيحي منسجمًا مع افتراضاته المسبقة، ابتعد عن العالم الحقيقي، وكلما اقترب من العالم الحقيقي، تَبدد انسجامه مع افتراضاته المسبقة.[7]

ويقول “شِفَر” إن كل شخص يعيش بإحدى قدميه في أحد العالمَين ويضع الأخرى في العالم الآخر: العالم الحقيقي الخارجي الذي يتميز بعمقه وتعقيده، وعالم داخلي من الأفكار يشكله الاشتياق للتفهم، والحب، والقيمة. فإن وُجِد صراع بين هذين العالمين، يستحيل على الفرد أن يحيا حياة لها معنى.

فلابد من وجود توافق بين خبرتنا في العالم الخارجي وعالمنا الداخلي.[8] ولذلك، يرجح “شِفَر” أن المدافع لابد أن يستخدم الحجة المنطقية لتحديد وكشف التناقضات والصراعات الداخلية التي تحويها الفلسفات الحياتية غير المسيحية. وهو يبين أنها تقوم على فرضيات أو افتراضات مسبقة لا تتسق مع الوجود الإنساني الحقيقي ولا تتوافق معه.

كل مَن نتحدث إليه، سواءً أكان بائعًا في متجر أم كان طالبًا جامعيًا، يحتفظ بمجموعة من الافتراضات المسبقة، سواء قام بتحليلها أم لم يقم… ويستحيل على أي شخص غير مسيحي أو جماعة غير مسيحية أن تتوافق مع النظام الذي تتبعه سواء على مستوى المنطق أو على مستوى الممارسة.

وعندما يحاول الشخص إخفاء الصراع، عليك أن تساعده على كشفه، وفي نقطة معينة سيكتشف عدم الاتساق. وعندئذٍ سيجد نفسه غير قادر على الاستمرار، وهذا الصراع ليس صراعًا فكريًا فحسب، ولكنه يقع في صميم الكيان الإنساني ككل.[9]

ومن ثم، على المدافع أن يساعد الفرد على إدراك هذا “الصراع” والشعور بقوته الفكرية والوجودية، وهو ما يتضمن مساعدته على اكتشافه أولاً، وتقدير أهميته ثانيًا. ويرى “شِفَر” أن البشر يَقُون أنفسهم من هذا الصراع بحمايتها داخل شرنقة فكرية تمنعهم من مواجهة ذلك الاكتشاف المزعج بأن أفكارهم لا تتفق مع الواقع. ويستخدم “شِفَر” صورة يقتبسها من شتاء سويسرا لوصف هذه الحالة، فهو يشبه هذه الشرنقة الفكرية بأسقف أكواخ جبال الألب التي تعمل كمصدات تحمي المسافرين من الانهيارات الثلجية:

فهو يشبه المصدات الكبيرة التي تبنى على بعض الممرات الجبلية لحماية العربات من انهيارات الصخور والحجارة التي تهوي من فوق الجبل من آن لآخر. وهذه الانهيارات الثلجية في حالة غير المسيحي هي العالم الحقيقي الساقط المشوه الذي يحيط بهم. وعلى المسيحي أن يزيل المصدة بحب ويسمح لحقيقة العالم الخارجي وحقيقة الإنسان بأن تصدمه.[10]

ومن ثم يمكن النظر إلى الدفاعيات باعتبارها نزعًا لسقف هذا الكوخ لإجبار الشخص على إدراك أن طريقة تفكيره عاجزة عن الصمود في مواجهة العالم الحقيقي الخارجي.

فكيف يمكن تطبيق هذا المنهج؟ يعطينا “شِفَر” مثالاً يوضح هذا الأسلوب جيدًا. فقد كان يتحدث إلى مجموعة من الطلاب في غرفة بإحدى الكليات في جامعة كامبردج. وبينما كان الماء يغلي لتحضير الشاي، ابتدره أحد الطلاب الهنود قائلاً إن المسيحية لا معنى لها. فسأله “شِفَر” عن عقيدته قائلاً: “ألستُ على صواب إن قلت إن القسوة وعدم القسوة متساويات في عقيدتك، وليس بينهما أي فارق أصيل؟” فوافقه الطالب. ثم يروي “شِفَر” ما حدث بعد ذلك:

الطالب الذي اجتمعنا في غرفته فهم جيدًا ما يعنيه اعتراف الطالب السيخي، فتناول الغلاية الممتلئة بالماء الساخن الذي كان سيعمل به الشاي، ووضعها أعلى رأس الشاب الهندي والبخار يتصاعد منها. فنظر الشاب لأعلى وسأله: ماذا تفعل؟ فأجابه بنبرة حاسمة باردة ولكنها مهذبة: “لا فرق بين القسوة وعدم القسوة.” وعندئذ خرج الهندي صامتًا واختفى في ظلام الليل البهيم.[11]

وأسلوب “شِفَر” يتسم بقوته وبقدرته على الوفاء بالعديد من الأغراض، مما يجعله صالحًا لعدد من المواقف المختلفة. خذ مثلاً الوضعية المنطقية Logical Positivism، وهي حركة فلسفية حققت نجاحًا كاسحًا في العالم الناطق بالإنجليزية في ستينات القرن العشرين. وقد أعلنت هذه الحركة أن كل العبارات الميتافيزيقية*، بما فيها ما يتعلق بالله، عديمة المعنى.

وكان الأساس الذي اعتمدت عليه هذه الفلسفة في ذلك هو “مبدأ التحقق” الذي قصر العبارات ذات المعنى على القضايا الصحيحة في حد ذاتها (مثل “كل العزاب غير متزوجين”) أو التي تتأكد بالخبرة (مثل “كان في الحديقة الأمامية لقصر “باكينجهام” ست إوزات الساعة 5:23 صباحًا يوم 1 ديسمبر 1968″). وتطبيق منهج “شِفَر” يتيح لنا أن نؤكد أن مبدأ التحقق نفسه عديم المعنى لأنه لا يتماشى مع المعيار الذي اعتمدته الوضعية المنطقية لقياس المعنى.

أو خذ مثالاً أبسط للهجمة الشرسة التي غالبًا ما نواجهها في جامعات أمريكا الشمالية: “لا يمكن أن تتأكد من أي شيء”. وهذه النظرة تهدف إلى الإطاحة برؤية “الصورة الكبرى” للواقع، كتلك التي يقدمها الإيمان المسيحي لأنها تعني أننا لابد أن نتشكك حتى في كل العبارات المؤكدة المختصة بالحياة.

ولكن من الواضح أن هذا التصريح ذاتي المرجعية يعتمد في صدقه أو كذبه على ذاته self-referential، ويمكن تقويضه والقضاء عليه بطرح سؤال بسيط ردًا عليه: “هل أنت متأكد من ذلك؟” وهكذا فإن المنطق الذي يقوم عليه الادعاء هو نفسه الذي يُسقطه.

إلا أن هذا لا يعنى أن مهمتنا هي مجرد الفوز بالمجادلات أو تقديم المؤهلات العقلانية للإيمان. فمما يؤسف له أن تأثير حركة التنوير على الثقافة الغربية لم يختفِ، ولا سيما في الإصرار على تقديم براهين تثبت صحة العقائد، مما نتج عنه تقديم الدفاعيات المسيحية باعتبارها مجرد بناء حجج فعالة تهدف لإقناع الناس بصحة الإيمان المسيحي. إلا أن الخطورة في ذلك أنه قد يؤدي إلى إظهار المسيحية على أنها مجموعة من الحقائق الجامدة والأفكار المجردة. ولذلك، فإن هذا المنهج ينطوي على ثلاث صعوبات.

أولها، أنه ليس  مؤسسًا على الكتاب المقدس كما يجب. فالحق، ولاسيما في العهد القديم، يركز في المقام الأول على المصداقية والثقة. والقضية الأساسية في الدفاعيات تتلخص في أن الله هو قاعدة أمان، وأنه أساس آمن تُبنى عليه حياة الإيمان. أي أن “الإله الحقيقي” ليس مجرد إله موجود، بل إله يمكن الاعتماد عليه. والنظرة العقلانية التي تعتبر الحق هو كل افتراض تَثبت صحته تستبعد النظرة الكتابية التي تعتبر الحق مفهومًا علاقاتيًا.

والمشكلة الثانية أن جاذبية الإيمان المسيحي لا يمكن أن تقتصر على منطقية عقائده. ولكن المسيحية تستند بقوة على الخيال أيضًا. كما توضح كتابات “سي. إس. لويس.” وعندما كان “لويس” شابًا وجد نفسه يتوق إلى عالم له معنى، يشتعل حبًا، ويفيض جمالاً، ولكنه اقتنع أن هذا العالم لم ولن يوجد: “كنت أؤمن أن كل ما أحبه تقريبًا وَهم، وتقريبًا كل ما آمنت بأنه حقيقي رأيته منفرًا وبلا معنى.”[12]

لقد أخبره خياله بوجود عالم أفضل، ولكن عقله أخبره أنه كلام فارغ. فلم يجد أمامه خيارًا سوى مواجهة عالم مجدب مجرد من المشاعر، ومواجهة وجوده الخالي من أي معنى.

وأخيرًا اكتشف “لويس” عقلانية الإيمان المسيحي، إلا أن انجذابه للإيمان كان سببه أن الإنجيل يقدم معنى، وليس لأنه يُعبر عن افتراضات صحيحة. وقد علق “لويس” على هذا قائلاً: “إن العقل هو الأداة الطبيعية للحق، ولكن الخيال هو أداة المعنى.”[13] وجاذبية الإيمان المسيحي عند البعض تتمثل في جمال عبادته، أو في قدرته على التلامس مع المشاعر الإنسانية، أو في نتائجه الأخلاقية.

أما ثالث هذه المشكلات فهي أن المنهج العقلاني يقوم على نظرة حداثية. إلا أنه في معظم أنحاء العالم الغربي اليوم، حل اتجاه ما بعد الحداثة مكان الحداثة، مما يقلب الكثير من المعتقدات المحورية للحداثة رأسًا على عقب. فالاستناد إلى الصفة العقلانية الأصيلة في الإيمان ينجح في إطار حداثي، ولكن في أطر ثقافية أخرى، قد يفشل هذا المنهج نفسه الذي يقوم على الحجة والمنطق فشلاً ذريعًا في التلامس مع التطلعات والأفكار الثقافية المسبقة.

وكما سنرى في قسم لاحق من هذا الفصل، أن ميل ما بعد الحداثة للقَصص أكثر منه للحجة يتيح فرصًا عظيمة للدفاعيات الكتابية نظرًا لأن الأشكال القصصية تملأ صفحات الوحي.

ولكننا مع ذلك، ما زلنا نؤكد منطقية الإيمان ونشدد عليها، دون أن نحصره فيما يمكن للمنطق أن يبرهن عليه بشكل قاطع. فأسئلة الحياة الجوهرية تتجاوز حدود العقل بكثير، ومن هذه الأسئلة: من أنا؟ هل أنا مهم فعلاً؟ لماذا أنا هنا؟ هل يمكنني أن أُحدث اختلافًا؟[14] وهي أسئلة لا يمكن للعلم ولا للمنطق البشري الإجابة عنها.

ومع ذلك، إن لم يجد المرء إجابات لهذه الأسئلة، تصبح حياته بلا معنى. وعلينا نحن المدافعين أن نبين أن الإيمان المسيحي يقدم إجابات لأسئلة الحياة الجوهرية، وهي إجابات منطقية من ناحية، وناجحة على المستوى العملي من ناحية أخرى. فكما هو مهم أن نُظهر أن المسيحية صحيحة، مهم أحيانًا أن نُظهر أنها حقيقية.

المدخل الثالث: القصص:

إن تركيز تيار ما بعد الحداثة على القصص يمثل أهمية خاصة في الدفاعيات. فقد كانت الحداثة تنظر بعين الريبة للقصة في التعامل مع الواقع. ومن ثم، سعت لإجهاضها أو التخلص منها بالاستناد إلى التحليل أو الحجة العقلانية، بحيث تتحرر تمامًا من قيود عشوائية التاريخ الأليمة. وقد انعكس ذلك بكل وضوح في تفسير الكتاب المقدس. وكما أشار “هانس فري” Hans Frei  (1922- 1988) أستاذ اللاهوت في “جامعة ييل” Yale University، مختزلاً ما به من روايات تاريخية وأشكال قصصية (كأمثال المسيح) إلى أفكار مجردة من الزمن.[15] وكان يُنظر إلى القصة كأنها قشرة مزعجة غير مستحبة تغطي على الجوهر الفكري والأخلاقي للكتاب المقدس.

إلا أن تيار ما بعد الحداثة شهد استعادة للاهتمام بالقصة الكتابية بما فيها الأشكال القصصية الخاصة كالأمثال التي رواها يسوع ليُعَلم الجموع عن ملكوت الله. ولم يعد إثبات الحق يتوقف على الحجة، ولكن بدأ يُنظر للقصص على أنها قادرة على تكوين هوية مميزة من الناحية الأخلاقية والمفاهيمية.

فالمسيحية تعلن عن عالم يتشكل بالقصص وهي تسكن في هذا العالم، والأساس الذي يشكل أفكار هذا العالم وقيمه هو قصة تعاملات الله مع شعبه التي تبلغ ذروتها في قصة يسوع الناصري. وهكذا فالمسيحية في أساسها ليست مجرد مجموعة أفكار.

منذ حوالي سبعينات القرن العشرين، تزايد الاهتمام بدراسة دور القصة في كلٍّ من اللاهوت والفلسفة، وعلى صعيد الفلسفة الإنجليزية والأمريكية، ظهر بعض الكُتاب البارزين أمثال “بول ريكور” Paul Ricoeur وكذلك “ألاسدير ماكينتاير” وأيضًا “تشارلز تيلور” الذين تصدوا لتقديم معالجات جادة لما ينطوي عليه القَصَص من موضوعات أساسية. فقد درس “ريكور” القصة بوصفها أساسًا لكل صور فهمنا للعالم وبوصفها إطارًا يعيش فيه البشر. ويقول “ماكينتاير” بأن قرارات حياتنا تتشكل وتترتب بناءً على فهمنا لها باعتبارها تشكل جزءًا في “قصة” (أو تقليد) أكبر.

وهو يقول “لا يمكنني أن أجيب عن سؤال “ماذا يجب أن أفعل؟” إلا بعد أن أجيب عن سؤال أسبق، وهو “ما هي القصة التي أشكل جزءًا منها؟”[16] وكما سنرى، يمكن أن تمثل هذه المنهجيات قيمة عظمى للدفاعيات المسيحية.

والكثيرون اليوم يؤيدون الرأي الذي يقول بأن القصص هي المنظار الأساسي الذي يرى البشر الواقع من خلاله. فنحن نرى العالم باعتباره قصة تجيب عن الأسئلة المحورية المختصة بالوجود، والهوية، والمستقبل.

وهذه القصص يمكن أن تجيب عما يسميه الفيلسوف “كارل بوبَر” Karl Popper “الأسئلة العليا” “ultimate questions” وهو بذلك يريدنا أن نفهم المسائل الكبرى التي تتناول “معنى الحياة”، ومنها تلك التي يطرحها “روي بوميستر” Roy [17]Baumeister، وهي التي تتعلق بالهوية، والغرض، والتكليف، والقيمة وتتخذ شكل أسئلة مثل: “من أنا؟” “ما هدف الحياة؟” ” ماذا أفعل لأُحدث فرقًا؟”

وقد أدرك البشر من قديم الزمان الأهمية الثقافية والفكرية لوجود قصة تفسيرية شاملة. وغالبًا ما يستخدم مصطلح “الأسطورة” في المجال الأكاديمي للإشارة إلى هذه القصص التفسيرية التي تشرح الواقع والهوية الشخصية والاجتماعية. (عادةً ما يساء فهم مصطلح “الأسطورة” على أنه “قصة غير حقيقية”، إلا أن هذا المعنى ليس هو المقصود هنا). ولكن كما أشار “لويس” وآخرون، كلمة “أسطورة” تشير أساسًا إلى قصة عن العالم تُمكن الأفراد من فهمه والعيش فيه.

وهذه “الأساطير” تمثل العدسات التي ينظر بها أي مجتمع للعالم، فهي تقدم إطارًا يسهم في حل التناقض بين الخبرات العديدة ويعمل على خلق رابطة بينها.

والقصة المسيحية عند “لويس” التي يعتبرها المنحة الإلهية التي تكمل وتتوج المحاولات البشرية الأخرى في صنع الأسطورة، تمثل أعلى وأسمى قمة نرى منها الحقيقة ونفهمها. فالقصة المسيحية عن الخلق، والسقوط، والفداء، ونهاية الزمان تعطي معنى لكل القصص الأخرى التي نرويها عن هويتنا وغاياتنا الحقيقية. إنها القصة الأم، الرواية العليا التي تضع سائر الروايات المختصة بأصل الإنسان ومصيره في مكانها الصحيح.

ويؤكد هذه النقطة أستاذ العهد الجديد والمدافع البريطاني ” ن. ت. رايت” N.T. Wright الذي يقول إننا عندما نروي قصة الكتاب المقدس كاملةً فنحن بذلك نعلن النظرة المسيحية للواقع وفي الوقت نفسه نتحدى البدائل العلمانية الأخرى. فبروايتنا لقصة الكتاب المقدس

مؤكد أننا نتحدى جوانب عديدة في نظرة العالم للأمور (أي نظرته للسلطة والقوة). ونقوض نظرته لماهية العالم ولغرضه بالكامل، ونقدم نظرة جديدة للعالم بأفضل طريقة ممكنة.[18]

والكتاب المقدس عند “رايت” يتحدى طرق التفكير الأخرى ويبرز جمال طريقته ويجسدها بوضوح. وهو يروي قصة تجيب عن أربعة أسئلة أساسية:

  1. من نحن؟ الكتاب المقدس يخبرنا أننا بشر مصنوعون على صورة خالقنا، ولا نكتسب هويتنا الجوهرية من العنصر الذي ننتمي إليه، ولا النوع، ولا الطبقة الاجتماعية، ولا الموقع الجغرافي.
  2. أين نحن؟ نتعلم من الكتاب المقدس أننا نحيا في عالم حسن وجميل، ولكنه مؤقت. وقد خلقه الله الذي نحمل صورته.
  3. ما المشكلة؟ نفهم من الكتاب المقدس أن البشرية تمردت على خالقها، وبالتالي انحرف العالم عن القصد المخلوق له.
  4. ما الحل؟ يطمئننا الكتاب المقدس أن الله عمل، ويعمل، وسوف يعمل في الخليقة من خلال المسيح يسوع والروح القدس ليتعامل مع الشر الذي نتج عن تمرد البشرية، وليصل بعالمه إلى الغاية التي صنعه من أجلها، ألا وهي أن يكون في توافق تام مع حضوره ومجده.[19]

وتطالعنا أعمال الروائي “ج. ر. ر. تولكين” بنظرة مشابهة. وقد عُرف “تولكين” بدفاعه المستميت عن الدور المحوري الذي تلعبه الأسطورة في خلق معنى للواقع وبمحاولته أن يطبق هذا الفكر في ثلاثيته الملحمية “ملك الخواتم” The Lord of the Rings.[20] ووفقًا لهذا النهج، تظهر قدرة القصة المسيحية الكبرى على تفسير الأمور في تَمَكُّنها من وضع غيرها من القصص الكبرى في موقعها الصحيح، وتفسيرها، وشرحها. والقصة المسيحية، مثل سائر القصص، لا يمكن “البرهنة عليها” بالوسائل الموضوعية منطقية كانت أم علمية.

بل يجب تقييمها بناءً على قدرتها أن تخلق للأشياء معنى أعمق من منافساتها الحالية أو التي قد تظهر فيما بعد، وذلك ببساطتها، وأناقتها، وسهولة فهمها، وقدرتها على خلق معنى يتجاوز حدودها.

فكيف نستفيد من عودة الاهتمام بالقصة في محاولتنا لفهم كيفية تقديم الإيمان المسيحي لثقافتنا؟ سأطرحُ هنا بعض الأفكار الشخصية. عندما كنت أصغر سنًا كنت أعتقد أن أفضل طريقة لمساعدة الآخرين على اكتشاف حق المسيحية المدهش هو مناقشتهم بالحجة. أي إقناعهم بأن المسيحية صحيحة وحق. وباختصار، كونت ما يطلق عليه الكثيرون اليوم منهجًا “حداثيًا”. ولكني اليوم أوصل حق الإنجيل بطريقة مختلفة. فأنا أحكي قصة قبولي للإيمان.

لماذا؟ لأن القصة أكثر تشويقًا من أي حجة، ولكن السبب الأهم أن قصتي تبين أن المسيحية حقيقية، أي أنها قادرة على تغيير حياة البشر، وإعطائهم أسباب جديدة للحياة ورجاء أكيد للمستقبل. فالقصة تدور حول فلسفة حياتية أصبحت تمثل نظرة شخصية في حياة صاحبها، وهي قادرة على التجديد والتغيير والاستثارة. وروايتي لهذه القصة الشخصية تؤكد أن الإنجيل حقيقي في حياتي.

إننا نعيش في عالم تشكله القصص. بالإضافة إلى أن “القصص الكبرى” قادرة على إضفاء معنى على العالم وعلى خلق علاقة مفيدة بين من يلاحظ الأحداث والأحداث نفسها. وهذه القصص عبارة عن شباك من المعاني نحكيها لنجمع فيها خبراتنا الشخصية ونحتفظ بها، ولنختزن فيها المعنى الذي نرى أنها تنقله أو تنطوي عليه.

والمسيحية تروي واحدة من هذه القصص، والإلحاد الجديد يروي قصة أخرى، وهناك قصص لا تحصى يرويها أولئك ممن لديهم أغراض يريدون تنفيذها، ورؤى ينشرونها، ومصالح أو أغراض شخصية يروجونها. إن القصص تحدد أماكن الحقائق بوضعها في إطار قصصي.

والآن بعد أن وضعنا أساسًا نظريًا لتأكيد أهمية القصص في الدفاعيات، سنتناول كيفية استخدامها. وسنبدأ بعد قليل بقصتين تُستخدمان في تدعيم الدعاوى التي يقيمها بعض الكُتاب ضد المسيحية، وسنرى كيف يمكن نقدهما.

على الدفاعيات المسيحية أن تنقد وتُقَيم غيرها من القصص الكبرى، مثل القصص العلمانية التي تعمل على تقويض المسيحية أو تهميشها. ولكنها لابد أن تُقدر في الوقت نفسه ما تتضمنه المسيحية من قصص خاصة بها. فالقصة المسيحية الكبرى عن الخلق، والسقوط، والفداء، ونهاية الزمان تساعدنا أن نفهم معنى العالم، كما أشار “لويس” وغيره. ولكن هذه كلها “قصص كبرى” فماذا عن القصص العادية؟ وكيف يمكن استخدامها في الدفاعيات المسيحية؟

أَوضَحُ نموذج يمكننا البدء به هو أمثال المسيح. فاستخدام الرب يسوع للقصص حتى يتفاعل مع مستمعيه لم يكن من قبيل الصدفة، ولكن هذه القصص كان لها غالبًا أساس في الحياة اليومية للمجتمعات الريفية والزراعية التي سادت فلسطين في القرن الأول. وقد كانت قصصًا غاية في السهولة تجذب انتباه المستمعين وتثير خيالهم. وكلُّ من هذه الأمثال يحمل داخله قدرة دفاعية هائلة يجب اكتشافها وفهمها، بل استخدامها. وإذا استُخدمَت هذه الأمثال بحكمة فإنها تتمتع اليوم بذات التأثير الذي كانت تتمتع بها عندما قيلت لأول مرة.

والمدافع الحكيم هو من يدرس الأمثال الرئيسية ويسأل هذه الأسئلة المحورية: كيف تساعدني هذه القصة في توصيل الإنجيل؟ كيف تساعدني على التواصل مع هذه الفئة؟ فالقضية هنا ليست دراسة ما في المثل من صور ومفردات في ضوء الديانة اليهودية إبان القرن الأول، بل اكتشاف وسائل لاستخدامه دفاعيًا اليوم.

ولنأخذ مثالاُ لوضيح هذه النقطة، وليكن تلك القصة المعروفة التي عادةً ما يشار إليها باسم “مثل اللؤلؤة كثيرة الثمن.”

أَيْضًا يُشْبِهُ مَلَكُوتُ السَّمَاوَاتِ إِنْسَانًا تَاجِرًا يَطْلُبُ لآلِئَ حَسَنَةً، فَلَمَّا وَجَدَ لُؤْلُؤَةً وَاحِدَةً كَثِيرَةَ الثَّمَنِ، مَضَى وَبَاعَ كُلَّ مَا كَانَ لَهُ وَاشْتَرَاهَا. (مت 13: 45، 46)

بالرغم من صياغة القصة بأقل عدد ممكن من الكلمات (خمس وعشرون كلمة فقط في الأصل اليوناني)، فالخيال البشري يمكنه بسهولة معالجتها وتذوق تأثيرها. والخبرة البشرية تؤكد صحتها. بالإضافة إلى أنه من السهل البناء عليها وتطبيقها. فكيف نستخدمها في الدفاعيات؟ سأعرض لك كيف أستخدمها، وأترك لك الحرية في تطويرها:

إننا جميعًا نبحث عن شيء له قيمة في الحياة. إلا أننا غالبًا ما نكتشف أن الأشياء التي كنا نظن أنها ستسعدنا وتفرحنا لا تفعل ذلك، فنشعر أنه ما من شيء يمكنه أن يمنحنا الفرح والسلام. ولكن يسوع روى قصة عن هذا الموضوع. فقد قال إن تاجرًا وجد لؤلؤة ثمينة كانت معروضة للبيع، فقرر أن يبيع كل شيء ليحصل عليها. لماذا؟ عندما رأي التاجر تلك اللؤلؤة المميزة أدرك أن كل ممتلكاته باهتة وتافهة مقارنةً بها. وكما يغطي لمعان الشمس على لمعان النجوم، فلا يُرى إلا ليلاً، هكذا أتاحت هذه اللؤلؤة الثمينة للتاجر أن يرى ممتلكاته من منظور مختلف.

فما كان يظن أنه سيشبعه ثبت أنه يكشف عدم شبعه، ويثير اشتياقه لشيء لم يكن في متناوله. ولكنه رأى تلك اللؤلؤة المتميزة، فأصر أن يحصل عليها، لأنها شيء عظيم القيمة، شيء يستحق الامتلاك، حتى إن كل مقتنياته الأخرى تبدو قليلة القيمة مقارنةً بها. هذا هو الإنجيل عندما تكتشفه لأول مرة. إنه شيء في غاية الروعة حتى إنه يتفوق على كل ما عداه.

وهنا نرى مثالاً لاستخدام قصة كتابية لتوضيح نقطة دفاعية مهمة. إلا أن القصص الكتابية يمكن أن تُستخدم أيضاً لتكوين أطر تقدم معاني أو تفسيرات يمكن استخدامها لإضفاء معنى على الحياة. وعندما نستخدم القصص ندعو المستمع للدخول في القصة ونسأله عما إذا كانت تعطي معنى لخبراته وملاحظاته.

ولكن ليست كل القصص الكتابية تلقي الضوء على نقاط محددة بهذا الشكل. فبعض القصص تتيح لنا أن نرى خبراتنا الحياتية وملاحظاتنا من منظور مختلف. ولتوضيح هذه الفكرة سنأخذ قصة من أعظم قصص العهد القديم، وهي قصة السبي البابلي وَرَدّ مسبيي أورشليم إلى أرضهم بعد سقوط الإمبرطورية البابلية.

وتُعتبر قصة السبي البابلي سنة 586 ق. م من أهم قصص العهد القديم. ففي سنة 605 ق.م هزم الإمبرطور البابلي نبوخذ نصر الجيوش المصرية التي تجمعت في كركميش، وهكذا أسس بابل باعتبارها أعلى قوة عسكرية وسياسية في المنطقة. إلا أن يهوياقيم ملك يهوذا تمرد على الحكم البابلي، فقامت القوات البابلية بغزو يهوذا، وهو ما فسره الكُتاب آنذاك بكل وضوح باعتباره تنفيذًا للقضاء الذي أخبر به الرب على شعبه الخائن وملكهم.

وفي مطلع سنة 597 ق.م استسلم كلٌّ من الملك، والعائلة المالكة، ومستشارو البلاط الملكي لقوات الحصار. وتم ترحيلهم إلى بابل مع عدة آلاف من المسبيين غيرهم. ثم حدثت موجة أخرى من الترحيلات سنة 586 ق.م ولم يحصل اليهود على حريتهم في العودة إلى أرضهم إلا بعد سقوط بابل أمام الفرس سنة 539 ق.م.

وغالبًا ما تستخدم هذه القصة التاريخية المؤثرة لخلق معنى للوضع البشري. فمن منظور مسيحي، يرمز وضع اليهود أثناء سبيهم في بابل لحالة البشر. وذلك لأن اليهود لم يكونوا ينتمون لبابل، ولكنهم كانوا مسبيين يتوقون للعودة إلى أرضهم. ومزمور 137 يرسم صورة تنبض باشتياقهم للعودة وتعبر عن ذكرياتهم المرتبطة بأرضهم: “عَلَى أَنْهَارِ بَابِلَ هُنَاكَ جَلَسْنَا، بَكَيْنَا أَيْضًا عِنْدَمَا تَذَكَّرْنَا صِهْيَوْنَ.” (ع1).

إن هذا الإطار يعطي الحياة الإنسانية معنى. فليس المفترض أن نكون هنا، وهذه الأرض ليست وطننا، ولكننا ننتمي لوطن آخر. ومازلنا نحمل في أعماقنا ذكرى هذا الوطن التي لا تستطيع قوة في الوجود أن تمحوها. إننا نتحرق شوقًا للعودة إلى وطننا، ونحيا على رجاء أننا يومًا ما سنكون في الوطن الذي ننتمي إليه بالفعل. إن هذا الإطار يشير إلى مصدرنا الحقيقي ومآلنا، ويعطي معنى للشوق والتوق العميق الذي تتناوله “الحجة المبنية على الرغبة.”

ولكن ماذا عن القصص التي تتحدى المسيحية؟ سنستعرض قصتين تهدفان لهدم المصداقية التاريخية لأهمية يسوع الناصري كما يصورها التقليد المسيحي. أولهما “شفرة دافينشي” The Da Vinci Code (2003) لكاتبها “دان براون” Dan Brown، والثانية “يسوع الصالح والمسيح الشرير” The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ    (2010) لمؤلفها “فيليب بولمان” Philip Pullman. ما المنهجيات التي يتبعها كلٌّ منهما؟ وكيف نرد عليهما؟

إن القصص تدعونا لنتخيل عوالم بديلة ونقارنها بعالمنا: أيهما أكثر معقولية؟ وأكثر جاذبية؟ وتجدر الإشارة إلى أن إعادة قراءة التاريخ بشكل مختلف عادةً ما يكون وراءها دوافع هجومية أو أخلاقية، ومنها على سبيل المثال تصوير شخصية تاريخية خبيثة بشكل أفضل، أو شخصية محبوبة بشكل أسوأ. فرواية “أنا كلوديوس” I, Claudius (1934) مثلاً لكاتبها “روبرت جرفز” Robert Graves تتعاطف مع الإمبرطور الروماني كلوديوس (10ق.م – 54 م) وترسم له صورة إيجابية، وهو شخص كان يُنظر إليه في التاريخ على أنه رجل أحمق لا يضر ولا ينفع.

إلا أن “جرفز” يبرز كلوديوس على أنه يروج هذه الصورة عمدًا حتى يخدع الآخرين فيضمن بقاءه في زمن ملئ بالمخاطر السياسية.

وقد تَمكَّن كتاب “دان براون” الذي صدر سنة 2003 من تحقيق نجاح باهر واستحوذ على انتباه قرائه بفضل حبكته المتقنة التي تروي بداية تاريخ المسيحية بدرجة عالية من المعقولية حتى إن القارئ لا يلحظ التحريفات الجذرية المدسوسة في الكتاب ببراعة. (والطبعات الأولى من الكتاب كانت بحمل على غلافها كلمة “رواية” تحت العنوان. ولكنها حُذفَت فيما بعد). والقصة المحورية في هذا الكتاب تتلخص في أن الكنيسة اخترعت صورة خاصة بها ليسوع وجعلت منه إلهًا وفرضت هذه الصورة بالمؤامرة السياسية والتهديد بالعنف. ويصور “براون” الإمبراطور قسطنطين على أنه شخص مكيافلي انتهازي يغير طبيعة المسيحية لتخدم أغراضه السياسية.

ويروي “براون” قصة خداع وقمع تنتهي بكشف “الحق” وتحرير الناس. ويركز جزء كبير من القصة على بداية تاريخ المسيحية، فيروي أن الإمبراطور قسطنطين أراد للمسيحية أن تكون الديانة الرسمية للإمبراطورية الرومانية، ولكنه أدرك أنها تحتاج لنوع من إعادة الصياغة حتى تفي بهذا الغرض. ومن ثم، كان لابد من رفع رتبة يسوع الناصري بحيث لا يظل ذلك المعلم الريفي الفلاح، فأعلن فسطنطين أن يسوع هو الله. وقد استلزم ذلك الحصول على عدد مناسب من الأصوات والتلاعب في النصوص.

ويتم إطلاع القارئ على هذه الأسرار في شخصية السير “لي تيبينج” Sir Leigh Teabing الذي يعلم بهذه الخفايا التاريخية، فيصرح بأنه لم يكن أحد يعتقد أن يسوع هو الله حتى مجمع نيقية سنة 325 عندما طُرحَت المسألة للتصويت، وحصلت على غالبية الأصوت بفارق ضئيل. وتُصدم “صوفي نفو” Sophie Neveu المتخصصة في فك الشفرات عندما تسمع هذا الكلام وتقول في حالة من الذهول: ” لست أفهم ما تقول. هل تتحدث عن ألوهيته؟”

صرح لها “تيبينج”: “عزيزتي، حتى تلك اللحظة، كان أتباع يسوع يتعتبرونه نبيًا فانيًا مثل كل البشر… رجل عظيم مؤثر، ولكنه إنسان، فانٍ”.

[قالت “صوفي”]: “ليس ابن الله؟”

أجاب “تيبينج”: “بلى. فكرة أن يسوع “ابن الله” طُرحَت رسميًا للتصويت في مجمع نيقية.”

“مهلاً. تقول إن لاهوت يسوع جاء نتيجة تصويت؟”

أضاف “تيبينج”: “بفارق ضئيل بين الطرفين.”[21]

ويشرح “تيبينج” كيف حظر قسطنطين الأناجيل التي تحدثت عن يسوع بلغة إنسانية بحتة، ولم يسمح إلا بالأناجيل التي تشير إلى ألوهيته.[22]

ويتم تعريف القارئ بالحقائق المحظورة الخطيرة التي تتعلق بتاريخ الكنيسة ويركز الكاتب بشكل خاص على جماعة يلفها الغموض تعرف باسم “جمعية سيون” Priory of Sion ويقدمها باعتبارها حارسة لأحد الأسرار الخطيرة. ويخبر “براون” قراءه بأن هذه “الجمعية” هي جماعة سرية تكونت سنة 1099 ومازالت موجودة حتى اليوم ويؤكد لهم أن هذه حقائق ثابتة.

والحقيقة أن هذا كلام خاطئ بكل المقاييس، لأن “جمعية سيون” عبارة عن منظمة اخترعها “بيير بلانتار”  Pierre Plsntard (1920- 2000) سنة 1956، وقد كان “بلانتار ” بارعًا في تأليف القصص الخيالية، فنسج قصصًا غاية في الإتقان عن هذه الجماعة التي اخترعها وربط بينها وبين أحداث من العصور الوسطى والأرض المقدسة.[23] أي أن الموضوع لا يمت بصلة لأي نوع من الحقائق.

ولست أعرف أي سند تاريخي ذا قيمة يؤيد أيًا من الأفكار الرئيسية التي تقوم عليها “شفرة دافينشي” التي يمكن تفنيدها جميعًا بمنتهى السهولة. ولكن مربط الفرس أن “براون” يروي قصة يتمنى الكثيرون أن تكون صحيحة ويدعوهم أن يصدقوها. وقصة “براون” تقوض الفكر المسيحي التقليدي في أذهان عموم القراء بتصويره لهذا الفكر على أنه نشأ من إساءة ممارسة السلطة والرغبة في قمع العناصر الأنثوية للإيمان.

والقصة “تُعرفنا” بأن الحقيقة هي أن يسوع تزوج مريم المجدلية وأن ابنتهما أنجبت نسلاً ملكيًا في فرنسا. وقد قال “براون” ردًا على الانتقادات الكثيرة التي تناولت الأخطاء التاريخية الفادحة في روايته إن كل ما فعله أنه وضع الكلمات في أفواه شخصيات الرواية وترك القارئ يفهم منها ما يفهمه.

وتكمن جاذبية منهج “براون” في المقام الأول في قدرته على الهدم. فالقصة مكتوبة بأسلوب ركيك يبدو أن معظم القراء يتقبلونه خاصةً مع سرعة توالي الأحداث. وهي من حيث الأسلوب على النقيض تمامًا من “يسوع الصالح والمسيح الشرير” لكاتبها “فيليب بولمان” التي صدرت سنة 2010.[24] فأسلوب “بولمان” يتبع نوعًا ما أسلوب ترجمة الملك جيمز King James للكتاب المقدس، وهو يتميز بفصاحة لا نجد لها أثرًا في أسلوب “براون” الممل الركيك.

وكتاب “بولمان” يعيد سرد قصة الإنجيل في قالب تخيلي يحتفظ بالأسلوب الأصلي للأناجيل ولكنه يغير المحتوى تغييرًا جذريًا. وتنطوي إعادة صياغة القصة بهذا الشكل على تقديم فرضية محورية يبني عليها “بولمان” أطروحته. فهو يصور مريم على أنها فتاة تعاني من ضعف قدراتها العقلية وصعوبات في التعلم، يخدعها أحد الرجال لتنام معه مؤكدًا لها أنه ملاك، فتلد توأمين، يسوع والمسيح، ولكن العلاقة بينهما تسوء منذ سن مبكرة.

كان يسوع رجلاً تقيًا، وواعظًا متجولاً يكرز بملكوت الله وينتظر من أتباعه أن يتغيروا أخلاقيًا. ويخبرنا “بولمان” أن يسوع، كأي كارز بروتستانتي ليبرالي من القرن التاسع عشر، لم يصنع معجزات بالمعنى المفهوم. ولكنه كان يجعل الأمور تحدث بشكل طبيعي. فما الذي حدث في إشباع الخمسة الآلاف؟ كل ما في الأمر أنهم تقاسموا ما كان معهم من طعام.

وهكذا يتضح أن يسوع شخص صالح ينتمي إلى عالم مثالي غير عالمنا ولا يحتك بواقع السلطة السياسية. إلا أن المسيح مختلف. فهو يلتقي بشخصية غامضة اسمها “الغريب” The Stranger تزرع في عقله فكرةَ أن يعيد كتابة قصة يسوع وتعاليمه على نحو يجعلها أكثر جاذبية وأطول عمرًا.

والنتيجة إنجيل أسطوري كُتِب أصلاً لأسباب تافهة بقلم توأم يسوع المزعوم. وما يريد “بولمان” أن يشير إليه من طرف خفي أن إنجيل المسيح “المحسَّن” والمزوَّر هو السبب الأساسي في ظهور كتابات بولس في العهد الجديد.

وهكذا تصبح الكنيسة مؤسسة على إنجيل المسيح الوهمي، وليس على حقيقة يسوع التاريخية المفقودة. فالمسيح يدرك بدهائه ضرورة خلق قصة كبرى، فلسفة حياتية مغرية لتضمن استمرار الكنيسة على مر التاريخ.

ونظرًا لفشل يسوع في تقديم هذه القصة، يقوم المسيح بتعويض هذا العجز بنفسه بتأليف قصة قادرة على إنشاء مؤسسة قوية والحفاظ عليها. والقوة المؤسسية تعتمد على الأمر الإلهي الذي يُفرض دون هوادة ويصبح أيديولوجية راسخة تضمن استمراريته. ويظهر بكل وضوح من هذه الرواية ومن ثلاثية “مواده السوداء” His Dark Materials أن “بولمان” يستهدف مؤسسة الكنيسة.

وأخيرًا يحرض “الغريب” المسيح على خيانة أخيه، خيانة تؤدي إلى موت الشقيق (نعم، يتضح في النهاية أن المسيح هو يهوذا الإسخريوطي). ثم تصبح القيامة مسرحية يحاول فيها المسيح الحي أن يُظهر نفسه على أنه يسوع الميت، وهو ما يعني طبعًا أن القيامة تمثيلية اخترعها المسيح ليعوض عن موت يسوع ميتة مؤسفة عادية. والموضوع مألوف لدى قراء الأعمال العقلانية التي أعادت تأليف حياة يسوع في القرن الثامن عشر، ولكن “بولمان” أدخل عليها تعديلات تاريخية جديدة ولكنها مستحيلة الحدوث.

وهذه هي المشكلة، فهذه القصة الهجومية غير معقولة على الإطلاق لدرجة أنها لا تطابق أدنى المعايير المستخدمة لتحديد صحة الأحداث من الناحية التاريخية. والقصة معقدة ومتداخلة حتى إنها لا يمكن أن بؤخذ على محمل الجد من الناحية التاريخية. ورغم أن الكاتب قَصَّاص من الطراز الأول عندما يؤلف قصصًا خاصة به، فعندما يعيد إنتاجَ قصص غيره، وخاصةً إذا كانت قصة مألوفة كقصة يسوع الناصري يتعثر كثيرًا. فالحبكة مفتعلة بشكل مفرط حتى إن براعة “بولمان” الأسلوبية تعجز عن التعامل مع هذا الخط القصصي المعقد اللازم لتحقيق أغراضه في مهاجمة التقليد.

وقد أقحم “بولمان” نفسه في القصة الكتابية على نحو سافر، فلم يكن دوره فيها سلبيًا ولا صامتًا. وأكثر المواقف التي يظهر فيها هذا الإقحام بشكل صريح هو صلاة يسوع في جثسيماني التي يفاجئنا بأن يسوع يختمها قائلاً أنه لا يوجد إله. ويأتي صوت المؤلف مملاً رتيبًا في مواقف كهذه، ولا سيما عندما يعظ يأخذ مكان يسوع ويعظ قراءه بنبرة حادة مزعجة.

وهو ما يختلف عن أسلوبه في ثلاثية “مواده السوداء”. وهو في رواية “يسوع الصالح والمسيح الشرير” يفتعل حالة من التقوى المفرطة بشكل يثير الاشمئزاز. علاوة على أنه يَسهل على القارئ التنبؤ بما سيحدث قبل قراءته.

ومن الواضح أن القصة مستحيلة الحدوث التي نطالعها في هذه الرواية تهدف إلى هدم مؤسسة السلطة الدينية. ويتضح هذا الهدف بجلاء في سؤال طرحه أثناء لقاء أجري معه عقب نشر كتابه بفترة وجيزة: “إن استطعت أن ترجع بالزمن وتنقذ ذلك الرجل من الصَلب وأنت تعلم أن هذا يعني عدم ظهور الكنيسة لحيز الوجود، هل ستنقذه أم لا؟” وترتكز هذه الحجة على افتراض مسبق مفاده أن القارئ يشارك “بولمان” في كراهيته الشديدة للمؤسسة الكنسية، وهو ما يظهر بكل وضوح في أعماله الأسبق.

ولكن هل الأمور حقًا بهذه البساطة؟ وهل الحق التاريخي يتوقف على ما نحب؟ وهل الإنجيل يتمحور فعلاً حول الكنيسة باعتبارها مؤسسة؟

معروف أن “بولمان” يريد أن يزعزع أساس الإيمان المسيحي. ولكن كيف يدعم هذا الكتاب حجته؟ إن ما حصل عليه هذا الكتاب من ردود أفعال فاترة على المواقع الإلكترونية الإلحادية يؤكد مدى غموضه. وقد سألني أحد زملائي من الأساتذة الملحدين مؤخرًا: “ولكن ما الفائدة منه؟ ومن سيلتفت لهذا الهراء؟” وقد راودتني هذه الأسئلة الوجيهة الواضحة وأنا أقرأ هذا الكتاب. ورغم استمتاعي بأسلوبه، لم أتمكن من تصديق حبكته الركيكة. ولابد أن أعترف أني لم أجد إجابة مقنعة حتى الآن.

المدخل الرابع: الصور:

تُعتبر الصور، لا الكلمات، أعلى أشكال التواصل عند كُتاب ما بعد الحداثة. وشركات الدعاية والإعلان تنفق أموالاً طائلة لتحصل على أفضل صورة للشركة المعلِنة، وتصمم إعلانات تليفزيونية تعرض صورًا تجعلنا نريد أن نشتري منتجات معينة دون غيرها. إلا أن الكثير من المسيحيين، مثلي، يفضلون استخدام الكلمة (ولا سيما الكلمة المكتوبة، في حالتي) لتوصيل الإيمان وإبراز جماله. ولكن علينا أن نعي أن الصور يُنظر إليها في إطار ما بعد الحداثة على أنها تتمتع بمصداقية وقوة من نوع خاص وتتجاوز الحدود المفروضة على الكلمات.

والعقل البشري يعمل عن طريق توليد صور تساعدنا على “تصوير” العالم المحيط بنا وفهم معناه. ويمكن تشبيه الصور بالخرائط الذهنية التي تساعدنا على رسم أرض الواقع وتحديد مكاننا في الإقليم المحيط بنا. وهذه الصور مفيدة جدًا للمدافع، لأن الصور التي تُعبر عن الفكر المسيحي يمكن تقديمها بأشكال تجذب الخيال البشري. وعمومًا نحن نتعلم أن نسكن في صورة نستخدمها ونكتشف مدى ملاءمتها لواقع عالمنا.

وسنفحص في هذا الجزء عددًا من هذه الصور ونبحث كيفية استخدامها لتوصيل الإنجيل وإبراز جماله. وبعضها مأخوذ من الكتاب المقدس، والبعض الآخر من الثقافة العلمانية. وأولى هذه الصور مأخوذ من أحد كلاسيكيات الفلسفة اليونانية القديمة، ألا وهو كتاب “الجمهورية” Republic لأفلاطون. (إن كنت قد قرأت رواية “الكرسي الفضي” The Silver Chair، وهي إحدى روايات سلسلة “نارنيا” لكاتبها “لويس”، ستكون الصورة مألوفة لك، حتى وإن لم تكن تعرف أصلها التاريخي[25]).

يدعونا أفلاطون لأن نتخيل كهفًا مظلمًا عاشت فيه مجموعة من الناس منذ مولدهم. وقد ظلوا محبوسين في هذا الكهف طيلة حياتهم حتى إنهم لم يعرفوا عالمًا آخر سواه. وفي أحد أطراف الكهف تشتعل نيران متوهجة بالدفء والضوء. اللهُّب المتصاعدة تلقي ظلالاً على جدران الكهف، فيشاهد الناس هذه الظلال التي تسقط أمامهم على الحائط، ويفكرون فيما تعنيه، فهذه الظلال المرتعشة هي كل ما يعرفه سكان الكهف عن العالم. وإدراكهم للواقع منحصر فيما يرونه ويختبرونه في هذا السجن المظلم.

فإن كان هناك عالم خارج الكهف، فإنه شيء لا يعرفونه ولا يمكنهم أن يتخيلوه، وكل آفاقهم محدودة ومحددة بالظلال وبما ينالونه من ضوء خافت. ولكنهم لا يعرفون أن الكهف سجن ولا أنهم محبوسون فيه، وليس لهم أن يصلوا إلى هذا الاكتشاف إلا إذا عرفوا بوجود عالم آخر.

ويزين أفلاطون هذه الصورة بالعديد من التفاصيل، منها أن سكان الكهف مقيدون بأغلال تمنعهم من الحركة في أنحاء الكهف. ولا يمكنهم أن يروا إلا الجدار المقابل لهم. ويمتد خلفهم ممر يعبر فيه أشخاص يحملون أشياء متنوعة على رؤوسهم، والنار تلقي هذه الظلال المتحركة على جدران الكهف.

والناس الذين يعبرون الممر يتحدثون بعضهم مع بعض فتُرَجِّع أصواتهم صداها في جنبات الكهف، ولكنها تأتي مشوهة بفعل الجدران. وهكذا يرى السجناء ظلالاً متحركة ويسمعون أصداء أصوات. فهم لا يرون ولا يسمعون أي شيء بشكل مباشر، ولكن خبرتهم بكل شيء تأتي على نحو غير مباشر وغير واضح المعالم.[26]

ولا يعنينا هنا البناء الفلسفي لهذا التشبيه كما وضعه أفلاطون، ولكن ما يعنينا هو إمكانية استخدامه في الدفاعيات. فكيف نستخدم هذه الصورة لتوصيل الإنجيل وإبراز جماله في عالم اليوم؟ تخيل نفسك الآن تسكن في هذه الصورة بضع دقائق، ولاحظ أنك لابد أن تنسى كل شيء عن العالم الذي نعرفه جميعًا حيث الشمس الساطعة، والهواء العليل، والورود، والبحيرات، والأشجار. وتَذَكر أن العالم الوحيد الذي تعرفه هو ذلك الكهف المظلم الذي يمثل لك الواقع كله.

وأنت لا ترى إلا ظلالاً ولا تسمع إلا أصداء. وما يظهر من هذه الأشياء يصبح واقعًا لك.

احترس من مقارنة عالم الكهف بأي واقع آخر، ففكرة التشبيه كلها تقوم على أساس أنك لا تعرف أي شيء غير هذا الكهف الذي يمثل لك تعريف الواقع. وعندما تشعر بأنك اعتدت على الصورة، سنبدأ في فحصها ودراسة كيفية تطبيقها في الدفاعيات.

اسأل نفسك هذا السؤال: كيف يتأتى لسكان الكهف أن يدركوا أن هناك عالمًا أفضل خارج جدران الكهف المظلمة المدخنة؟ فكر قليلاً في السؤال ثم واصل القراءة بعد أن تصل إلى بعض الإجابات.

ثلاث وسائل تُمكن سكان الكهف من اكتشاف وضعهم الحقيقي:

  1. يدخل شخص من العالم الحقيقي الخارجي إلى داخل الكهف ويخبر سكانه بالعالم الحقيقي. ومن الناحية الدفاعية، تقابل هذه الوسيلة فكرة الإعلان الإلهي.
  2. بنية الكهف نفسه تحتوي على دلائل تشير إلى وجود عالم خارج جدرانه. ومن الناحية الدفاعية، تقابل هذه الوسيلة الحجج التي تؤكد وجود الله بناءً على المؤشرات التي نراها في بنية العالم.
  3. عند هؤلاء المساجين معرفة حدسية تقول لهم إن هناك عالمًا أفضل من الكهف المظلم المدخن. ومن الناحية الدفاعية، تقابل هذه الوسيلة الحجج التي تؤكد وجود الله بالاستناد على المشاعر الإنسانية، ومنها الحجة المبنية على الرغبة.

وسوف نبحث فيما يلي ما تتضمنه كل وسيلة من إمكانية دفاعية مع الاحتفاظ بصورة الكهف.

أولاً، قد يقتحم الكهف شخص من عالم آخر، ويخبرنا عن ذلك العالم الآخر مستخدمًا تشبيهات مستمدة من الكهف. بل إنه قد يفعل ما هو أفضل من هذا فيعرض علينا أن يرشدنا لطريق الخروج. وقد يفعل ما هو أفضل من هذا وذاك، فيعرض علينا أن يُخرجنا بنفسه.

وهذا الأسلوب هو الذي ينعكس في عقيدة التجسد المسيحية التي ترى يسوع المسيح باعتباره الشخص الذي يدخل إلى عالم التاريخ والخبرة البشرية، ليُظهر لنا الأمور على حقيقتها وليعطينا القدرة أن نتحرر من ربط العالم وقيوده. وبالرغم من أن هذا الموضوع يملأ صفحات العهد الجديد، فهو يَبرز بشكل خاص في إنجيل يوحنا، كما يتضح من الآيتين التاليتين:

وَالْكَلِمَةُ صَارَ جَسَدًا وَحَلَّ بَيْنَنَا وَرَأَيْنَا مَجْدَهُ مَجْدًا (يو 1: 14)

أَنَا هُوَ الْخُبْزُ الْحَيُّ الَّذِي نَزَلَ مِنَ السَّمَاءِ. (يو 6: 51)

والوسيلة الثانية تقول بأن عالم الكهف نفسه مرصع بمؤشرات ومفاتيح تشير إلى أنه ليس العالم الوحيد. فقد يكون على جدران الكهف علامات تشير إلى أصله أو إلى مصيره الحقيقي، مثل العلامات التي لاحظها أريستبوس على شاطئ جزيرة رودس (ص 122). فربما الكهف يكشف عن أدلة تشير إلى وجود تصميم أو بنية معقدة تثير أسئلة جوهرية عن نشأته. وقد تكون جدرانه مزينة بالرسوم أو غيرها من الدلائل التي تشير إلى أصله وتاريخه.

أما الحل الثالث هو أن من يلاحظون الكهف أنفسهم يملكون في أعماقهم حسًا فطريًا أصيلاً بوجود عالم آخر. وقد يتخذ هذا الحس شكل قناعة عميقة أن الحياة أكثر من مجرد ظلمة هذا الكهف المدخن، أو معرفة حدسية قوية بأن مصيرهم يجب أن يكون في مكان آخر، أو رغبة في شيء يشعر صاحبها أنها لن تُشبع أبدًا، وهو شعور يشير إلى أن عالمنا ليس العالم الوحيد، وأن إشباعنا الحقيقي لن يتحقق فيه.

فنار الشوق التي تشتعل داخلنا ولا تطفئها خبراتنا في هذا العالم تمثل مفتاحًا جوهريًا يشير إلى وضعنا الحقيقي ويدعونا لاكتشاف الواقع الأعظم الذي تشير إليه.

هكذا قمنا ببحث الأساليب الثلاثة وشرحها بسهولة مستخدمين صورة كهف أفلاطون. وكل وسيلة منها تتيح للدافع أن يبحث أحد جوانب الإيمان المسيحي ويكتشف تلامسه مع خبرتنا بالعالم المحيط ومع معرفتنا الحدسية وأشواقنا العميقة وقدرته على خلق معنى لكل هذه الأمور.

ويمكن إدماج هذه الصورة المعبرة بسهولة في الأحاديث، والعظات، والمحاضرات، ويمكن تطويرها بالعديد من الطرق المبتكرة. ويسهل كذلك إضافة طرق أخرى للثلاثة المذكورة أعلاه.

فما الصور الأخرى التي يمكن استخدامها في الدفاعيات؟ يستخدم بولس مجموعة من الصور القوية في رسائله ليساعدنا على فهم ما فعله المسح لأجلنا بصلبه وقيامته. ومن هذه الصور صورة التبني. وفيها يؤكد لنا بولس أننا أصبحنا أبناء الله بالتبني في المسيح (رو 8: 23، غل 4: 5). ويرى بولس أن هذه الصورة المستمدة من قانون الأسرة الروماني تلقي الضوء على امتيازات المؤمن ومكانته في علاقته بالله.[27] وهي صورة تتطلب منا أن ندركها في عقولنا ونقدرها في قلوبنا.

وصورة التبني سهلة الفهم نسبيًا، فهي تُعبر عن أسرة تقرر أن تمنح طفلاً لم يولد في أحضانها الامتيازات القانونية نفسها التي يحصل عليها الطفل المولود في الأسرة. وهو ما يستتبع أن الطفل المتبنى يتمتع بحقوق الميراث التي يتمتع بها الطفل الطبيعي.

وهكذا يمكن أن يرى المؤمن نفسه باعتبار أنه أُدخِل في عائلة الله ومُنح ذات الامتيازات القانونية التي يتمتع بها أي ابن طبيعي. ومن هو الابن الطبيعي لله؟ إنه المسيح نفسه. وبذلك، يشرح بولس هذه الفكرة القوية، ألا وهي أن كل ما منحه الله للمسيح باعتباره ابنه سيؤول إلينا في النهاية باعتبارنا أولاد الله:

أَنَّنَا أَوْلاَدُ اللهِ. فَإِنْ كُنَّا أَوْلاَدًا فَإِنَّنَا وَرَثَةٌ أَيْضًا، وَرَثَةُ اللهِ وَوَارِثُونَ مَعَ الْمَسِيحِ. إِنْ كُنَّا نَتَأَلَّمُ مَعَهُ لِكَيْ نَتَمَجَّدَ أَيْضًا مَعَهُ. (رو 8: 16، 17)

ولذلك فالسمات الأسرية التي تميز أولاد الله هي الألم في هذه الحياة والوعد بالمجد في الحياة الآتية. وهو ما يعني أن المجد يكمن وراء الألم، ولابد أن نتعلم أن نرى الألم باعتباره امتيازًا نحتمله مسرورين بوصفه نتيجة لمركزنا الجديد بصفتنا ورثة الله.

ولكن صورة التبني لا تخاطب العقل فحسب، بل تستحوذ على الخيال والقلب أيضًا. وهي بذلك تدعونا أن نترجمها بشكل تخيلي، ولا نكتفي بفهمها. فالتبني معناه أن الطفل مرغوب فيه، وهو يتضمن أيضًا معنى الانتماء. وهذه قضايا وجدانية عميقة تتلامس مع اهتمامات الكثيرين ومخاوفهم في مجتمعات تزداد انكسارًا يومًا بعد يوم.

فالتبني يعني دعوة الشخص ليدخل في بيئة مُحبة حانية. وهي تعني الترحيب بالشخص والرغبة في وجوده وتقديره . والتبني يقدر امتياز الدعوة التي يتم بمقتضاها الترحيب بشخص من خارج الأسرة وإدخاله في كنف الإيمان والحب.

والصورة التي يرسمها بولس للتبني تتوافق بشدة مع اشتياق الإنسان العميق للانتماء إلى مكان ما. فنحن نحتاج أن نشعر أننا مقبولون ومرغوبون. وتؤكد “سيمون فيّ” كثيرًا في كتاباتها أهمية هذه النقطة.

فهي تشير في كتابها “البحث عن الجذور” The Need for Roots إلى أهمية المجتمعات في تكوين الهوية الشخصية وحمايتها: “قد تمثل الحاجة للجذور أهم احتياجات النفس البشرية ولكنها الأقل حظًا من حيث إدراكها والاعتراف بها.”[28] ويتناول “ولتر بروجمَن” Walter Brueggemann أستاذ العهد القديم المعروف هذه الفكرة بمزيد من العمق عندما يشير إلى أن

الشعور بالضياع والتشرد وفقدان المأوى يسود ثقافتنا المعاصرة. وتوق الإنسان لأن ينتمي لمكان، ويكون له بيت، يحتمي في موضع آمن هو سعي عميق يثير في النفس لهيبًا من المشاعر المتأججة.[29]

ونجاح المسلسل التليفزيوني الأميريكي “في صحتك” Cheers يعكس هذه النقطة على أكمل وجه. وقد بدأ عرض المسلسل الذي تجري أحداثه في حانة في بوسطن سنة 1982 واستمر على مدى 271 حلقة حتى سنة 1993. ويرجع نجاحه الباهر إلى ما خلقه من شعور قوي بالانتماء لجماعة.[30]

فقد كانت الحانة مكانًا للأحاديث الخفيفة والأحاديث الجادة، وكانت ملجأ يرحب بكل من يأتيه، والجميع هناك يعرفك. أما خارج الحانة هناك جموع مجهولة من بشر لا يعرفهم أحد ولا يعرفون بعضهم البعض. ولكن داخل الحانة، أنت شخص مميز، ومهم عند الآخرين، أنت تنتمي لمكان. وقد عبَّرت أغنية المسلسل عن هذا المعنى أوضح تعبير: أنت تريد أن تكون في مكان “كل من فيه يعرف اسمك.”

ويمكن للمدافع أن يستخدم صورة التبني التي يرسمها بولس مشيرًا إلى ما تحمله من معانٍ على مستويات مختلفة. فهي لا تلقي الضوء على ما يعود علينا من موت المسيح وقيامته فحسب، ولكنها تخاطب اشتياق القلب البشري العميق للانتماء.

وهناك صور كتابية أخرى يسهل الاستفادة منها في الدفاعيات، مثل صورة الله الراعي، أو المسيح خبز الحياة. فالدفاعيات تتمتع بصندوق زاخر بالكنوز التي يمكننا الاستفادة منها، وهي تستخدم الخيال باعتباره مدخلاً للنفس البشرية. وينبغي على المدافع الناجح أن يجدد هذا الصندوق باستمرار مضيفًا إليه قصصًا وصورًا جديدة.

خطوة للأمام:

المداخل الأربعة التي تناولناها في هذا الفصل كلها مهمة ويمكن تطبيقها بسهولة في الدفاعيات. إلا أنها مجرد أمثلة توضيحية لا تشمل كل المداخل التي يمكن الاستفادة منها، بل يمكن إضافة مداخل أخرى لها. ومنها على سبيل المثال تجسيد المؤمن لإيمانه في حياته العملية، وهو مدخل يؤدي وظيفة دفاعية مهمة.

فالكثيرون يسألون عن الإيمان عندما يرون أن أصدقائهم يتميزون بشيء غير متوفر لهم، كالشعور بالسلام أو بوجود غرض للحياة، أو الشعور العميق بالحنان والحب للبشر، وهو ما يثير لديهم السؤال: “من أين لهم هذا؟” ويتمنون في أعماقهم أن يتمتعوا بما يتمتع به هؤلاء. ومحبة الله تتجسد وتعلَن عندما يخدم المسيحي الحقيقي العالم المحيط به.

والطريقة التي يتعامل بها المؤمن مع الموت تقدم شهادة مهمة لرجاء القيامة المغير الذي يمثل ركيزة أساسية في الإنجيل. فممارسة الحق في حياتنا العملية هي “دفاعيات متجسدة” تمثل في حد ذاتها شهاد قوية لذلك الحق. أي أننا نحتاج لما هو أكثر من الحجج، نحتاج أن نظهر أن الإيمان المسيحي يغير الحياة ويمنحها قوة، كما أشار المدافع “فيليب د. كنِسون” Philip D. Kenneson في ملاحظة حكيمة قائلاً:

إن ما ينتظره عالمنا، وما تبدو الكنيسة متقاعسة عن تقديمه، ليس الاستمرار في تقديم مزيد من الأحاديث عن الحق الموضوعي، بل شهادة متجسدة تعطي الآخرين سبباً للالتفات لهذا الحق.[31]

علاوة على ذلك، تقدم الحياة المسيحية شهادة مهمة لقدرة الإنجيل على تغيير حياة البشر، فعندما نشهد عن قصتنا الشخصية، نقدم شهادة غير مباشرة على أن الإنجيل حقيقي، وليس صحيحًا فحسب.

ومن السهل إضافة المزيد من الأساليب أو تطويرها حسب القضايا التي يواجهها المدافع أو الاتجاهات الثقافية التي يشعر أنه يجب التعامل معها. ومن الأمثلة الواضحة التي يمكن استخدامها في الدفاعيات من بعض المجالات الفنية والأدبية الأخرى:

  1. الأفلام: ربما يعتبر الفيلم، لما يميزه من المزج بين القصة والصورة، أفضل وسيلة للتواصل مع جيل يطَلِّع على الواقع بطريقة بصرية أكثر منها نَصية. والكثير من الأفلام الحديثة تثير قضايا لاهوتية ودفاعية كبرى، مما يتيح الفرصة لفتح مناقشات دفاعية.
  2. الشعِر: تُعبر الكثير من القصائد عن شعور بالقلق الشديد تجاه الوضع الحالي للعالم، وعن تطلع نحو الهدف الأسمى للبشرية. وليس من الصعب على المدافع أن يحدد بعض القصائد، وكلمات بعض الأغاني المشهورة، التي تتيح الفرصة لإثارة أسئلة أو فتح مداخل للدفاعيات.

  3. اللوحات الفنية: الكثير من الأعمال الفنية الكلاسيكية، ناهيك عن الصور المشهورة، يمكن أن تمثل مداخل دفاعية. فإذا أجريت بحثًا سريعًا على الإنترنت مثلاً ستجد لوحة مشهورة للفنان “إدفارد مونك” Edvard Munch اسمها “الصرخة” The Scream  (1893) يظهر فيها شخص في حالة من اليأس الوجودي المريع لعجزه عن التعامل مع العالم. فكيف نستفيد من هذه اللوحة؟ إنها مدخل ممتاز للدفاعيات، ويمكنك أن تجد الكثير غيرها بسهولة.

الآن وقد اطلعنا على أساليب تساعدنا في إبراز جمال الإيمان المسيحي وربطه بحياة الناس العاديين، لابد أن ننتقل للعثرات والشكوك التي يواجهها الناس في الإيمان وكيفية التعامل معها .

لمزيد من الاطلاع:

Garson, D.A.The God Who Is There: Finding Your Place in God’s Story. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010.

Johnston, Robert K.Reel Spirituality: Theology and Film in Dialogue، 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006.

Keller, Timothy J. The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism. New York: Dutton, 2008.

Marsh, Clive. Theology Goes to the Movies: An Introduction to Critical Christian Thinking. New York: Routledge, 2007.

McGrath, Alister E. Surprised by Meaning: Science, Faith, and How We Make Sense of Things. Louisville: Westminster john Knox, 2011.

Nash, Ronald H. Faith and Reason: Searching for a Rational Faith. Grand Rapids: Academie Books, 1988.

Peters, James R. The Logic of the Heart: Augustine, Pascal, and the Rationality of Faith. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009.

Piper, John. Think: The Life of the Mind and the Love of God. Wheaton: Grossway, 2010.

Sire, James W. Naming the Elephant: Worldview as a Concpt. Downers Grove, IL: Inter Varsity, 2004.

Wright, N. T. Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006.

[1] Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo (London: Faber & Faber, 1967).

[2] Augustine, Confessions V.xiii.23-xiv.25.

[3] James Robert Brown, Philosophy of Mathematics: An Introduction to the World of Proofs and Pictures (London: Routledge, 1999, 71-78); George Bools, “Gödel’s Second Incompleteness Theorem Explained in Words of One Syllable,”, Mind 103 (1994): 1-3.

[4] For a highly influential discussion, see John Lucas, “Minds, Machines and Gödel,” Philosophy 36 (1961): 112-27.

[5] For two good assessments of Schaeffer’s approach, see Thomas V. Morris, Francis Schaeffer’s Apologetics: A Critique (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1987); Bryan A. Follis, Truth with Love: Apologetics of Francis Schaeffer (Wheaton: Crossway, 2006).

[6] Francis Schaeffer, The God Who Is There, Complete Works of Francis Schaeffer, vol. 1 (Westchester, IL: Crossway, 1982), 130.

[7] Ibid., 134.

[8] For a good analysis, see Morris, Francis Schaeffer’s Apologetics, 21-22.

[9] Schaeffer, The God Who Is There, 132.

[10] Ibid., 140.

[11] Ibid., 110.

* metaphysical وتترجم أحياناً إلى “ما وراء الطبيعة” والمقصود كل ما يختص بالبحث الفسلفي في المبادئ أو العلل الأولى للكينونة والمعرفة. (المترجمة)

[12] C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (London: HarperCollins, 2002), 138.

[13] C. S. Lewis, Rehabilitations and Other Essays (London: Oxford University Press, 1939), 158.

[14] See Roy Baumeister, Meanings of Life (New York: Guilford Press, 1991). Baumeister’s analysis of the importance of questions of identity, value, purpose, and agency is of major importance to Christian apologetics.

[15] Hans Frei, The Eclipse of Biblical Narrative: A Study in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Biblical Hermeneutics (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1977).

[16] Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (London: Duckworth, 1985), 216.

[17] Baumeister, Meanings of Life.

[18] N. T. Wright, “How Can the Bible Be Authoritative?” Vox Evangelica 21 (1991): 7-32.

[19] N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 132.

[20] See Verlyn Flieger, Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien’s World (Kent, OH: Kent State University, 2002); Jeffrey L. Morrow, “J. R. R. Tolkien as a Christian for Our Times,” Evangelical Review of Theology 29 (2005), 164-77.

[21] Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code: A Novel (New York: Doubleday, 2003), 233.

[22] Brown is totally wrong on all these points. See, for example, Bart D. Ehrman, Truth and Fiction in The Da Vinci Code: A Historian Reveals What We Really Know About Jesus, Mary Magdalene, and Constantine (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 23-24.

[23] The best account of the fabrication of this myth is Massimo Introvigne, Gli Illuminatie il Priorate di Sion (Milan: Piemme, 2005). An English summary of this work is available at http://www.cesnur.org/2005/pa_introvigne.htm.

[24] Philip Pullman, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (Edinburgh: Canongate, 2010).

[25] You might enjoy reading the interesting study of William G. Johnson and Marcia K. Houtman, “Platonic Shadows in C. S. Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles,” Modern Fiction Studies 32 (1986), 75-87.

[26] For a detailed discussion, see Gail Fine, Plato on Knowledge and Forms: Selected Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003).

[27] James C. Walters, “Paul, Adoption, and Inheritance,” Paul in the Greco-Roman World, ed. J. Paul Sampley (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 2003), 42-76.

[28] Simone Weil, The Need for Roots (London: Routledge, 2002), 43.

[29] Walter Brueggemann, The Land: Place as Gift, Promise, and Challenge in Biblical Faith, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 2002), 1.

[30] Bill Carter, “Why ‘Cheers’ Proved So Intoxicating,” New York Times, Sunday, May 9, 1993.

[31] Philip D. Kenneson, “There’s No Such Thing as Objective Truth, and It’s a Good Thing, Too.” Christian Apologetics in the Postmodern World, ed. Timothy R. Phillips and Dennis L. Okholm (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1995), 155-70.

المداخل المتاحة للدفاعيات – فتح الباب للإيمان – أليستر ماكجراث (الدفاعيات المجردة)

Is Jesus advocating pacifism and denouncing capital punishment in this passage? MATTHEW 26:52

MATTHEW 26:52—Is Jesus advocating pacifism and denouncing capital punishment in this passage?

PROBLEM: When the soldiers came to arrest Jesus, Peter took out his sword and cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant. Jesus told Peter to put back the sword because those who take up the sword will die by the sword. Some use this verse to support pacifism and to oppose capital punishment, which the Bible affirms elsewhere (Gen. 9:6).

SOLUTION: Total pacifism is not taught in this Scripture. Indeed, Abraham was blessed by the Most High God (Gen 14:19) after engaging in a war against the unjust aggression of the kings who had captured his nephew Lot. In Luke 3:14, soldiers come to inquire of John the Baptist about what they should do. John never told them to leave the army. Likewise, Cornelius, in Acts 10, was a centurion. He was called a devout man (v. 2), and the Scriptures say that the Lord heard the prayers of Cornelius (v. 4). When Cornelius becomes a Christian, Peter does not tell him to leave the army. Also, in Luke 22:36–38, Christ says that the one who has no sword should sell his robe and buy one. The apostles responded saying that they had two swords. Jesus responded saying that “it was enough.” In other words, they did not need to get rid of their swords. The Apostle Paul accepted the protection of the Roman army to save his life from unjust aggressors (Acts 23). Indeed, he reminded the Roman Christians that God had given the sword to the king who did not bear it in vain (Rom. 13:1–4). When Jesus returns to earth, He will come with the armies of heaven and will war against the kings of the earth (Rev. 19:11–19). So, from the beginning to the end, the Bible is filled with examples of the justification of war against evil aggressors.

What, then, did Jesus mean when He commanded Peter to put away his sword? Peter was making two mistakes in using his sword. First, while the Bible permits the sword by the government for civil purposes (Rom. 13:1–4), it does not endorse its use for spiritual ends. It is to be used by the state, not by the church. Second, Peter’s use was aggressive, not purely defensive. His life was not being unjustly threatened. That is, it was not clearly an act of self-defense (Ex. 22:2). Jesus appears to have endorsed the use of the sword in civil self-defense (Luke 22:36), as did the Apostle Paul (Acts 23).

Likewise, capital punishment is not forbidden in Scripture, but rather was established by God. Genesis 9:6 affirms that whoever sheds man’s blood, the blood of the killer will also be shed. Numbers 35:31 makes a similar statement. In the NT, Jesus recognized that Rome had capital authority and submitted to it (John 19:11). The Apostle Paul informed the Romans that governing authorities are ministers of God and that they still possessed the God-given sword of capital authority (13:1, 4). So Jesus in no way did away with the just use of the sword by civil authorities. He simply noted that those who live lives of aggression often die by the same means.

[1]

 

[1]Geisler, N. L., & Howe, T. A. (1992). When critics ask : A popular handbook on Bible difficulties (360). Wheaton, Ill.: Victor Books.

Did Jesus err by affirming that the signs of the end time would be fulfilled in His era? MATTHEW 24:34

MATTHEW 24:34—Did Jesus err by affirming that the signs of the end time would be fulfilled in His era?

PROBLEM: Jesus spoke of signs and wonders regarding His second coming. But Jesus said “this generation” would not end before all these events took place. Did this mean that these events would occur in the lifetime of His hearers?

SOLUTION: These events (e.g., the Great Tribulation, the sign of Christ’s return, and the end of the age) did not occur in the lifetime of Christ’s hearers. Therefore, it is reasonable to understand their fulfillment as something yet to come. This calls for a closer examination of the meaning of “generation” for meanings other than that of Jesus’ contemporaries.

First, “generation” in Greek (genea) can mean “race.” In this particular instance, Jesus’ statement could mean that the Jewish race would not pass away until all things are fulfilled. Since there were many promises to Israel, including the eternal inheritance of the land of Palestine (Gen. 12; 14–15; 17) and the Davidic kingdom (2 Sam. 7), then Jesus could be referring to God’s preservation of the nation of Israel in order to fulfill His promises to them. Indeed, Paul speaks of a future of the nation of Israel when they will be reinstated in God’s covenantal promises (Rom. 11:11–26). And Jesus’ response to His disciples’ last question implied there would yet be a future kingdom for Israel, when they asked: “Lord, will You at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” Rather than rebuking them for their misunderstanding, He replied that “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority” (Acts 1:6–7). Indeed, Paul in Romans 11 speaks of the nation of Israel being restored to God’s promised blessings (cf. vv. 25–26).

Second, “generation” could also refer to a generation in its commonly understood sense of the people alive at the time indicated. In this case, “generation” would refer to the group of people who are alive when these things come to pass in the future. In other words, the generation alive when these things (the abomination of desolation [v.15], the great tribulation such as has never been seen before [v. 21], the sign of the Son of Man in heaven [v. 30], etc.) begin to come to pass will still be alive when these judgments are completed. Since it is commonly believed that the tribulation is a period of some seven years (Dan. 9:27; cf. Rev. 11:2) at the end of the age, then Jesus would be saying that “this generation” alive at the beginning of the tribulation will still be alive at the end of it. In any event, there is no reason to assume that Jesus made the obviously false assertion that the world would come to an end within the lifetime of His contemporaries.

[1]

 

[1]Geisler, N. L., & Howe, T. A. (1992). When critics ask : A popular handbook on Bible difficulties (358). Wheaton, Ill.: Victor Books.

Why did Jesus call people fools and yet condemn others for doing the same thing? MATTHEW 23:17

MATTHEW 23:17—Why did Jesus call people fools and yet condemn others for doing the same thing?

PROBLEM: Jesus said, “whoever says [to his brother], `You fool!’ shall be in danger of hell fire” (Matt. 5:22). Yet He Himself said to the scribes and Pharisees, “Fools and blind!” (Matt. 23:17) The Apostle Paul, following suit, said, “O foolish Galatians” (Gal. 3:1; cf. 1 Cor. 15:36).

SOLUTION: There are good reasons why there is a strong difference between the two uses of the term “fool.” First, this is another example of the principle that the same word can be used with different meanings in different contexts (see Introduction). For instance, the word “dog” can be used of a canine animal or a detested person.

Second, in Matthew 5, it is used in the context of someone who is “angry” with his brother, indicating a hatred. Neither Jesus nor Paul harbored hatred toward those to whom they applied the term. Thus, their use of the term “fool” does not violate Jesus’ prohibition against calling others a fool.

Third, technically speaking, Jesus only commanded that a “brother” (Matt. 5:22) not be called a “fool,” not an unbeliever. In fact the scriptural description of a fool is one who “has said in his heart, `There is no God’ ” (Ps. 14:1). In view of this, one can see the seriousness of calling a brother a fool; it is tantamount to calling him an unbeliever. Hence, when He who “knew what was in man” (cf. John 2:25) called unbelievers “fools,” it was a most appropriate description of what they really were.

[1]

 

[1]Geisler, N. L., & Howe, T. A. (1992). When critics ask : A popular handbook on Bible difficulties (357). Wheaton, Ill.: Victor Books.

Did Jesus heal the blind man coming into or going out of Jericho? MATTHEW 20:29–34 (cf. Mark 10:46–52; Luke 18:35–43)

MATTHEW 20:29–34 (cf. Mark 10:46–52; Luke 18:35–43)—Did Jesus heal the blind man coming into or going out of Jericho?

PROBLEM: According to Luke, a blind man was healed as Jesus entered the city of Jericho (18:35), but Matthew and Mark declare that the healing took place as Jesus left the city of Jericho. Again, the accounts do not seem to be harmonious.

SOLUTION: Some believe that the healing in Luke may have actually taken place as Jesus left Jericho, claiming that it was only the initial contact that took place as “He was coming near Jericho” (Luke 18:35) and the blind man may have followed Him through the city, since he was continually begging Jesus to heal him (vv. 38–39). But this seems unlikely, since even after the healing (v. 43) the very next verse (19:1) says, “then Jesus entered and passed through Jericho.”

Others respond by noting there were two Jerichos, the old and the new, so that as He went out of one He came into the other.

Still others suggest that these are two different events. Matthew and Mark clearly affirm the healing occurred as Jesus left the city (Matt. 20:29; Mark 10:46). But Luke speaks of healing one blind man as He entered the city. This is supported by the fact that Luke refers only to a “multitude” of people being present as Jesus entered the city (18:36), but both Matthew (20:29) and Mark (10:46) make a point to say there was a “great multitude” of people there by the time Jesus left the city. If the word spread of the miraculous healing on the way into the city, this would account for the swelling of the crowd. It might also explain why two blind men were waiting on the other side of the city to plead for Jesus to heal them. Perhaps the first blind man who was healed went quickly to tell his blind friends what happened to him. Or maybe the other blind men were already stationed at the other end of the city in their customary begging position. At any rate, there is no irresolvable difficulty in the passage. The two accounts can be understood in a completely compatible way.

Geisler, N. L., & Howe, T. A. (1992). When critics ask : A popular handbook on Bible difficulties (353). Wheaton, Ill.: Victor Books.

Did Jesus make a mistake about His disciples seeing the kingdom come in their lifetimes? MATTHEW 16:28

MATTHEW 16:28—Did Jesus make a mistake about His disciples seeing the kingdom come in their lifetimes?

PROBLEM: Jesus told His disciples that some of them would not see death until they saw Him coming in His kingdom. Yet during the life of the apostles, Jesus never returned to set up His kingdom.

SOLUTION: This is a question of when this was going to take place, not whether it would. There are three possible solutions.

First, some have suggested that this may be a reference to the Day of Pentecost where Christ’s Helper, the Holy Spirit, came to descend upon the apostles. In John’s Gospel (14:26), Jesus promised to send the Holy Spirit, and, in the beginning of Acts (1:4–8), He tells them not to leave Jerusalem until they have received the Holy Spirit. But this hardly seems to fit the description of seeing Christ coming in His kingdom (Matt. 16:28).

Second, others believe this might be a reference to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in a.d. 70. This would mean that He would return to bring judgment upon the city that rejected Him and crucified Him. While this is a possible explanation, it does not seem to account for the fact that Jesus appears to be coming for believers (those “standing there” with Him), not simply coming in judgment on unbelievers. Nor does the judgment on Jerusalem in a.d. 70 adequately express seeing the “Son of Man coming in His kingdom” (v. 28), a phrase reminiscent of His second coming (cf. 26:64). Nor does it explain why Jesus never appeared in a.d. 70.

A third and more plausible explanation is that this is a reference to the appearance of Christ in His glory on the Mount of Transfiguration which begins in the very next verse (17:1). Here Christ does literally appear in a glorified form, and some of His apostles are there to witness the occasion, namely Peter, James, and John. This transfiguration experience, of course, was only a foretaste of His Second Coming when all believers will see Him come in power and great glory (cf. Acts 1:11; Rev. 1:7).

[1]

 

[1]Geisler, N. L., & Howe, T. A. (1992). When critics ask : A popular handbook on Bible difficulties (349). Wheaton, Ill.: Victor Books.

The Truth of Scripture and the Problem of Historical Relativity Philip Edgcumbe Hughes

The Truth of Scripture and the Problem of Historical Relativity

Philip Edgcumbe Hughes

The Bible is a collection of documents belonging to a period of history now long past. The most recent of its writings, those that comprise the books of the New Testament, are nineteen hundred years removed from the age in which we live. It can be stated without exaggeration that the remarkable scientific and technological advances of our day would have been inconceivable to persons living less than a century ago, let alone in the first century of the Christian era. To these people our world with its nuclear power and its computerization, its man-made satellites orbiting the earth, and its landing of men on the moon would have seemed like some legendary other planet. There is every justification, then, for asking what possible relevance the ancient writings of a bygone prescientific and unsophisticated age can possibly have for modern man.

Such a question, however, is less momentous than at first sight it appears to be. A large proportion of our much-vaunted twentieth-century world may accurately be described as to all intents and purposes prescientific and unsophisticated. Let us restrict the question accordingly to that portion of our planet’s population that is able to enjoy, because it can afford, the benefits of our advanced technological inventions. (I say nothing here about the terrible blight of death and destruction that modern “progress” has brought with it.) Yet even granting this qualifying restriction, the scenario is still far from realistic. Two other modifications of our present world situation should not be left out of account. First, a moment of reflection will suffice to show that the great majority of the millions who daily use the wonderful gadgets and appliances of our electronic civilization are, except for the fact that they take these conveniences for granted, hardly more scientifically minded than the underprivileged masses who know no power other than that of muscles and mules. The expertise of our “civilized” society is limited, in the main, to turning switches on and off. The prevailing ignorance and incompetence become starkly apparent when the machines in common use break down or function erratically. Even the multitudes who now travel by air with a display of sophistication, being devoid of any knowledge of aeronautics, are adept only at taking seats in jet planes—an achievement inferior to that of riding a camel over the sands of the Sahara. Second, it is no less evident that the members of “simple” and “backward” societies are equally capable of learning to turn switches on and off, to make use of modern machinery, and rapidly to become as technologically sophisticated as the average members of an “advanced” society. Moreover, those who are so inclined can readily be taught the technicalities of assembling and maintaining our modern inventions. In short, the technological distance between the “first” and the “third” worlds, and by the same token between the twentieth and the first centuries, is more apparent than real insofar as human powers of adaptability are concerned.

In the unfolding of history man is naturally a constant focal point because it is with the affairs of mankind that history is concerned. But there is another constant, superior to man. God, as the Creator of all things, sovereignly overrules the course of history by His exercise of providence, judgment, and redemption. Made in the image of God and entrusted with the mandate to have dominion, under God, over the rest of the created order, man is the divinely appointed agent through whom, in the unfolding of history, the purpose for which all things were created is carried forward to its fulfillment. The fundamental tragedy of history is that man, by reason of his self-induced fallenness, has perverted the potential implicit in this mandate. That this potential has not been destroyed is evident in man’s cultural and scientific achievements. The tragic perversion of that potential is seen in the ever-present propensity to put these achievements to ungodly and inhuman uses. Technological progress has certainly not brought ethical improvement. Man is no better today, no more loving and compassionate, than he was two thousand or four thousand years ago.

Now of course the Bible is not free from historical relativity. The New Testament, for example, was written in the Greek language of the first-century Mediterranean world, not in classical or modern Greek. The cultural conventions of those originally addressed by the New Testament authors were certainly not those that prevail in the twentieth century; and even those conventions varied from community to community, depending on whether they were predominantly Jewish, Greek, Roman, or barbarian. It is plain that the apostle Paul was well aware of these variations in the cultural norms and backgrounds of those he was evangelizing and adjusted his approach accordingly.

To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews [he wrote]. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some (1 Cor. 9:20–22).

When speaking to Jews it was Paul’s custom to demonstrate the truth of the Christian gospel by proving that in it there was a complete fulfillment of the promises and prophecies of the Old Testament Scriptures, which they knew and venerated. In the synagogue of the Jews at Thessalonica, for instance, “he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Christ had to suffer and rise from the dead, and saying, ‘This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Christ’ ” (Acts 17:1–3). But shortly afterward, in Athens, when he was given the opportunity of addressing a group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers, who were ignorant of the Old Testament Scriptures, he followed a different line, speaking to them as sophisticated religious inquirers and even attempting to establish rapport by quoting from their own philosopher-poets, but without compromising the essential gospel. He declared to them the true God, hitherto unknown to them, who has revealed Himself redemptively in the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus (Acts 17:16–31). Subsequently, no doubt, those who believed were carefully instructed in the witness of the Scriptures. But by adjusting his presentation to the cultural formalities and preferences of his audiences, and showing himself sensitive to their degree of sophistication, Paul effectively pursued the objective “by all means to save some.”

This objective, we should notice, is ever the same: to save some. Whether they be religious Jews or philosophical Greeks or imperialistic Romans or unpolished barbarians, whether they be kings and rulers or just the ordinary everyday men and women in the street, all are human beings and all are sinners in desperate need of the saving grace of God, and therefore all share the one basic necessity of being evangelized. Hence the apostle’s protestation: “I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” (1 Cor. 9:16). And “to save some” is also the primary purpose of Holy Scripture, which is so designed that it is “able to make [us] wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 3:15). The Bible belongs integrally within the divine scheme of redemption. That is why its central message, which does not vary from age to age, is not at all culturally conditioned and why, precisely because it is directed to the heart of the human predicament, which also does not vary from age to age, it is unfailingly relevant to mankind in every period of history.

This means that the cultural environment within which the biblical writings first saw the light of day is not of central significance. But it would be wrong to conclude that it is of no significance. Our understanding of the language of the New Testament, for example, has been enhanced by knowledge acquired from the study of nonliterary material still available to us from the first century; and the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls has added an important dimension to our comprehension of Jewish thought and interpretation in the age of the apostles. The more we know of the period and its culture, in all its manifestations, the better equipped we are to penetrate to the sense of the biblical text. Such intellectual advances, however, do not change the central message of the Scriptures, which is unmistakably clear for all to see, with or without linguistic and archaeological training. The scholarly specialist is able to give valuable aid to the ordinary reader who is unskilled in the original languages and social background of the Bible.

But, as is plain from the evangelistic purpose of Holy Scripture and as the history of the spread of the Christian faith shows, the Bible is for everyone. It is not the preserve of the specialist. To allow it to become the book of the expert, on whose pronouncements the average person is dependent, is an abuse and inversion that can lead only to disastrous results. The effect is to take the Bible out of the hands of those for whom it is intended, that is, the totality of mankind. Whatever the difficulties and obscurities associated with particular passages (on which the expert may be able to throw some light), not only is the Bible’s central message, in all its plainness and constancy, addressed to everyone, but it is also accessible to everyone. It is especially pertinent to the one who recognizes in himself or herself the sinner for whom Christ died, and therefore the one who needs above all else to hear and heed the good news of redemption and reconciliation in Christ. The apostle John’s explanation of the purpose of his Gospel provides also a perfect epitomy of the primary purpose of Scripture in its entirety: “These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31).

This was a lesson that P. T. Forsyth, himself an academic and an expert, had to learn. Once he learned it, the whole thrust of his theological perception was reshaped.

The authority of the Bible [he wrote] speaks not to the critical faculty that handles evidence but to the soul that makes response. The Bible witness of salvation in Christ is felt immediately to have authority by every soul pining for redemption. It is not so much food for the rationally healthy, but it is medicine for the sick, and life for the dead. All the highest interpretation of the Bible comes from that principle of grace.1

The Bible, Forsyth has said in another place,

is not a history of Israel, but it is a history of redemption. It is not the history of an idea, but of a long divine act.… [The] first value of the Bible is not to historical science but to evangelical faith, not to the historian, but to the gospeller.2

This insistence is of course congenial to the evangelical mind, which, while it welcomes the advances in understanding resulting from scholarly research, is unwilling, as a matter both of principle and of experience, to concede that the absolute truth of revelation can in any way become outmoded or invalidated by the changing relativities of the historical situation. We live in a day, however (as did Forsyth), when many academic “experts” are intent on persuading us that a radical restructuring of the central message of Scripture is necessary. They demand a change not merely at the periphery but at the very heart of the Christian faith. They argue that teaching conditioned by and appropriate to a historical context now long past is meaningless and unacceptable to modern scientific man.

For more than fifteen hundred years the authority and authenticity of the Bible as the infallibly inspired Word of God was a fixed and uncontested belief of the Christian church. The widespread departure from this position in the modern era is symptomatic of the abandonment by many of the distinctive teaching of Christ and His apostles, and this development is responsible for the present ecclesiastical crisis of authority. At the same time it is symptomatic of the attempt to secularize the church by the removal of its ancient landmarks on the part of those who wish to accomodate it to the spirit of the age and thus to win the world’s favor. The ground was prepared for the questioning of the relevance of past history to present faith by the leaders of the intellectual movement of the eighteenth century known as the Enlightenment, whose roots reached back into the deistic soil of the preceding century. Naturalism, which left little or no room for the presence of the supernatural; rationalism, which affirmed the self-adequacy of human reason; and confidence in the essential goodness and freedom of man were the characteristic tenets of this movement. God, if His existence was allowed, was regarded as little more than an uninvolved spectator remote from the course of this world’s affairs. The philosophical skepticism that became fashionable for members of the Republic of Letters inevitably cast a shadow over theological beliefs hitherto held sacrosanct.

Against this background Hermann Reimarus (1694–1768), a Hamburg schoolmaster, composed, privately, and avowedly for the purpose of quieting his own conscience, a manuscript of considerable length to which he gave the title An Apology or Defence on behalf of the Rational Worshippers of God. Not long after the author’s death the work came into the possession of Gotthold Lessing (1729–1781), who decided to proceed with its publication, though designating it an anonymous composition (Reimarus had not intended to make it public). Lessing alleged that he had discovered it at Wolfenbüttel in the collection of the Duke of Brunswick, by whom he was appointed librarian in 1770. Accordingly, between the years 1774 and 1778 Lessing brought out a number of excerpts, calling them Fragments by an Anonymous Person (also known as the Wolfenbüttel Fragments), in which the teachings of the New Testament were quite radically “demythologized,” the figure of Jesus being reduced to that of a merely human Palestinian Jew, and the account of His resurrection from the dead and His significance as the world’s redeemer being dismissed as inventions of His apostles, who, it was averred, had succeeded in spiriting His corpse away, thus leaving His tomb empty. The appearance of the Fragments aroused a storm of denunciation. In 1778 Lessing responded with an essay On the Proof of the Spirit and of Power—a title borrowed from 1 Corinthians 2:4. That text had long, though not necessarily accurately, been interpreted as referring to the fulfillment of prophecy (spirit) and the performance of miracles (power). It was Lessing’s contention that, even if the factuality of prophetic and miraculous events was accepted, once prophecies had been fulfilled and miracles performed, their force and significance were exhausted. Though their occurrence might be historically true, the report or record of their occurrence afforded no proof that Christianity was true, since the logical demonstration of historical truth was an impossibility. Only the one to whom particular events happened could possess the proof and the knowledge that they were true. Absolute truth, it was contended, cannot rest on contingent events of the past, or, as Lessing put it, “accidental truths of history can never become the proof of necessary truths of reason,” for between the two there is an “ugly broad ditch” that cannot be bridged.

It was in this way that Lessing postulated the irrelevance of past history to Christian faith and reason. Occurrences, then, like the virgin birth of Jesus, His death on the cross, and His bodily resurrection, even if they were actual historical events, could not validate present faith, which must be founded in reason. This is the subsoil of twentieth-century existentialism, for the effect of such theorizing is not only to individualize man but also to isolate him, and to isolate him not merely from the past but even from God.

It is little wonder that Lessing succeeded in persuading himself that it is not by the possession of the truth but by the search for the truth that man finds his true worth. “Is it not a fact,” Karl Barth pertinently asked, “that Lessing’s man is self-sufficient, and has no need of God in any event?”3 The Reimarus-Lessing reassessment represents a radical departure from the central perspective of Scripture. The very essence of the biblical gospel is its indissoluble connection with particular historical events proclaimed as the acts of God Himself sovereignly intervening in the midst of human history for the purpose of reconciling the world to Himself. Hence the further observation of Karl Barth that “it is precisely the Protestant doctrine of Scripture that Lessing is trying to juggle away.”4 Despite his professed hostility to rationalism and liberalism, however, Barth’s own thought did not free itself from Lessing’s intellectual motives: he too, with his distinction (learned from Martin Kähler) between Historie and Geschichte, adopted the “ditch” mentality, and with his illuministic theory of Scripture came close to existential individualism. To relax one’s hold on the objectivity of the great biblical absolutes can only result in the vacuous speculations of finite subjectivism.

Impressed by Lessing’s views, Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) formulated his philosophical system in which the principle of keeping history separate from faith was given an important place. Redemption, for Lessing, consisted in respecting the divinely given laws of morality, in doing better than previously, in cancelling wrong with right, in doing for ourselves what Christ our fellow had done for Himself. Kant, in turn, developed this theme. He asserted the universal givenness of what he called practical reason, that is to say, the rational moral awareness in every person of the “categorical imperative,” the absolute sense of duty, which lays on us both the obligation and the ability to fulfill the dictates of that ultimate and unconditioned law which alone engenders unity between God and man. Thus defined, practical reason is both prior and superior to the happenings of history. Indeed, in his treatise Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, published in 1793, Kant postulated not just an “ugly ditch” but a “mighty chasm” between objective facts of history (which would include the supernatural events of the Gospel accounts) and the subjective constant of reason. He insisted that finite man is totally incapable of grasping the Infinite One by means of revelation—that is to say, revelation as biblically understood, which involves reception and handing down as a historical faith. The only true revelation, according to Kant, is the God within ourselves who speaks to us through our own reason and whom we worship in the duty of honoring our moral obligations. The authority of the Bible is experienced by interpreting it in a manner that harmonizes with this inward moralistic revelation. Not surprisingly, the celebrated Kantian scholar Edward Caird accused Kant of “saving his morality at the expense of his religion” and objected that the defect of Kant’s position lay precisely in the sharp line he drew

between rational and revealed religion, or in other words between the essential elements in religion and the accidents of its historical form … for the division between the ideal and the real, the subjective and the objective, which Kant adopted from the individualism of his time, makes him cast away as part of the external form much that belongs to the very essence of religion.5

A movement of religious romanticism (which also had roots in previous centuries) developed in reaction to the intellectualism of the Enlightenment. But it left Lessing’s ditch or Kant’s chasm unbridged. Rejecting the moralistic rationalism of Lessing and Kant, though like them opposing dogmatic formulations of Christianity, Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) insisted that feeling was the heart of religion, and in particular man’s feeling of absolute dependence and his sensation of oneness with God. Lessing, as a matter of fact, had also placed considerable emphasis on feeling. Part of his argument against historicism was that the Christian feels that Christianity is true quite independently of historical testimony to its truth. He granted that if one’s personal feeling of experience of truth happened to coincide with historically communicated truth, then, but only then, could the accidental truth of the latter convey the force of proof and become one with the necessary truth of reason: it must be my truth, not someone else’s. In this teaching, once again, we hear the genuine ring of existentialism two hundred years before our day. Schleiermacher’s argument followed a different line. However, he arrived at a similar conclusion regarding the relevance to contemporary man of the historical witness of the Bible. He would not allow that “faith in Jesus as the Christ or as the Son of God and the Redeemer of men” could be based on the authority of Scripture. He contended that if Scripture were treated as authoritative in this way it would place reason before faith, so that unbelieving hearts might be persuaded, even though they felt absolutely no need of redemption. Schleiermacher’s perspective betrayed an unfortunate misunderstanding of the purpose of Scripture (2 Timothy 3:15 and John 20:31 again!) and a failure to recognize that it is only to the believing heart that Scripture authenticates itself in the deepest sense (John 5:39–47).

The Bible, in Schleiermacher’s view, may be useful without being indispensable for the Christian faith. As the apostles’ faith was prior to the New Testament, so ours may be independent of it. Schleiermacher held that “the grounds of our faith must be the same for us as for the first Christians,” in whose souls faith was awakened by “a direct impression.” Their description of Jesus, now embodied in the writings of the New Testament, “was only an expression of this faith.” It may indeed move us to faith, “but in no sense conditionally on the acceptance of a special doctrine about these writings, as having had their origin in special divine revelation or inspiration.” For Schleiermacher, then, there is no necessity of Scripture but only of “faith itself, present in a feeling of need (in whatever source that feeling may have originated).” Scripture may be adduced, he says, “only as expressing the same faith in detail.”6 The destination reached by Schleiermacher is that of his starting point, namely, one of subjective individualism.

Limitations of space preclude the possibility of discussing the significant contributions to the articulation of nineteenth-century liberalism made by other notable scholars and theorists such as Ferdinand Christian Baur and the Tübingen School that he founded, David Friedrich Strauss, and Albrecht Ritschl; or the remarkable influence of the Hegelian dialectic on theological as well as philosophical minds; or the powerful, though delayed, impact in our own century of the anti-Hegelian “existential” thought of Sören Kierkegaard. The twentieth century has seen the rise of existentialism as a philosophy that has for the most part been atheistic and unconcerned with Christian presuppositions. In the light of the formulation of liberal theology over the past two centuries, with its heavy emphasis on subjectivity, it should not be found surprising that contemporary reductionists have embraced existentialism as though it were a blood relative. The rejection of objectivity leaves no alternative but to seek the meaning and the worth of things entirely within oneself, and in existentialism the isolation of the individual has been carried to the extreme.

There is, indeed, this difference between the subjectivism of the past two centuries and that of our own day: the former was conceived and formed by unbounded confidence in the rational and ethical powers of man, whereas the latter is the offspring of desperation. The ghastly carnage of two world wars and the disorientation of society in general gave a painful check to the optimism of the past and caused widespread disillusionment. The modern existentialist, feeling himself engulfed by meaninglessness, sought to make some sense of life by passionately asserting the meaning of his own existence in the face of futility and to affirm his own dignity even by choosing that over which he had no choice, including the ultimate negation and absurdity of his own death. For him there is only one history that has meaning, and that is his own history. The future is black nothingness. He is solely a man of the present, and that present is solely his own individualistic present. Not all forms of contemporary existentialism are stamped with such utter hopelessness. In some there is a place for the numinous, and in those that have been “christianized” the relevance of Jesus and the existence of God are postulated in one way or another. But all forms, whether present or past, have this in common: they are expressions of humanistic egocentricity.

The outstanding exponent of the amalgamation of theology and existentialism is Rudolf Bultmann (1884–1979), whose writings have been remarkably influential. Insisting that the New Testament was filled with mythological notions and elements unacceptable to modern scientific man, he propounded a procedure of demythologization that cut away from the Gospel accounts every aspect of the supernatural. Bultmann portrayed Jesus as a merely human figure who lived and died in first-century Palestine, himself the exemplary existentialist. In their recollection of him, his disciples found existential worth and inspiration. His value to them was given graphic expression by their embellishment of his story with miraculous (and mythical) additions, such as his deity, his preexistence, his virgin birth, his sinlessness, his vicarious sacrifice, his resurrection and ascension, and his heavenly glory and future return. All this was not a reprehensible falsification of history but an honorable attempt to find symbols and put into words the significance he had for them. We now know, of course, on the authority of Bultmann, that the church was mistaken in thinking for so many centuries that such supernormal elements could be or were intended to be literally believed—and that we who live in the age of man’s maturity must make allowances for the fact that those were the naïve, prescientific centuries.

The gospel history, as Bultmann sees it, is the history of subjective moments of encounter effected through the agency of preaching. Far from being events of past history, the incarnation and resurrection of Jesus are eschatological events that come to pass every time that the message preached meets with the faith of the hearer. Indeed, Bultmann speaks of the Word of God becoming incarnate in the preacher: “For the incarnation is likewise an eschatological event and not a datable event of the past; it is an event which is continually being re-enacted in the event of the proclamation.”7 Again, he has written elsewhere: “Jesus Christ cannot be objectively established as an Eschatological Event, so that one could there and then believe in him. Rather he is such—indeed, to put it more exactly, he becomes such—in the encounter—when the Word which proclaims him meets with belief.” Revelation, too, has to be understood as belonging, not to a divine action of the past, but to the immediate, present moment or encounter: “It is only revelation as an event in the present, that is, where he [Jesus] confronts me at any time with what he preached and what he is—as the act of God to me or to us.”8 E. L. Mascall has tartly commented that Bultmann has succeeded in substituting magic for myth.9

Bultmann’s method turns out to be a game of words—words without moorings, words in a vacuum, words about the deity, incarnation, and resurrection of a mere man long since dead and buried, who was not God and was not incarnate and did not rise from the dead and is not a savior. What possible sense could there be in my believing them? And in any case why connect them especially with the man Jesus? Why not with anyone else who made extravagant claims for himself—Simon Magus, for example? And why the New Testament? Why should not any other book of inspiring thoughts produce the same existential response from me? Bultmann, who has subjectivized everything to the ultimate degree, can only suggest that a christological pronouncement about Jesus is a pronouncement about myself, simply a value-judgment of his significance at a particular moment to me. Jesus, I am told, does not help me because he is the Son of God (that would be to objectify him) but he is the Son of God because he helps me. Bultmann explains that “the sentence ‘And we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God’ (John 6:69) would be quite simply just a confession of significance for the ‘moment’ in which it was uttered, and not a dogmatic pronouncement.”10 This, of course, is Bultmann’s dogmatic christological pronouncement.

We may readily acknowledge that the message of the gospel, as it is read in Scripture and heard in preaching, is thoroughly existential. There is indeed such a thing as a dynamic moment of encounter, when the message meets with faith and becomes truly and transformingly present and the Bible leaps to life in the experience of the believer as the authentic Word of God. But this is not the same thing as the illuminism of Karl Barth, according to which a fallible word of man may at a given moment become the veritable Word of God to me; nor is it compatible with the humanistic egocentrism of Rudolf Bultmann, which tears the heart out of the gospel record and makes the value of Scripture dependent on the judgment of my experience of its worth. What is at stake is the actual truth of the biblical witness; not in the first place its truth for me—though, as we have agreed, this is important because the message of the gospel is addressed to me—but its truth as coming from God. In other words, the objective character of Scripture as truth given by God comes before and validates my subjective experience of its truth. A person may willfully shut his eyes and deny that the sun is shining, and in doing so he is truly in darkness, both physical and intellectual; but once he opens his eyes, the sun’s brightness will transform his outlook. Though it is at that moment that his darkness is dispelled, the sun has never ceased objectively to be the sun and to radiate forth its brilliance. The objectivity of the light of biblical truth has not only been a classical doctrine of the Christian church but was also fundamental in the teaching of Christ and His apostles, for whom the word of Scripture was identical with the Word of God. It should be added that the believer’s experience of the truth of the biblical witness within himself is not solely a subjective experience, because it is concomitant with and effected by the dynamic working of the Holy Spirit in the heart of his being, so that in this respect it is objective in character, and the experience in its fullness is an indivisibly objective-subjective event. Thus the apostle John says, “Anyone who believes in the Son of God has this testimony in his heart. Anyone who does not believe God has made him out to be a liar, because he has not believed the testimony God has given about his Son (1 John 5:10; cf. Rom. 8:16; Gal. 4:6).

It can be taken for granted that scholars who nowadays offer for our approval their own attempts at the “reconstruction” of the Christian faith are in fact busily engaged in the demolition of historic orthodoxy. A recent contribution of this genre is a symposium of essays by seven British academics with the title The Myth of God Incarnate.11 The authors, who rightly “make no pretence to originality,” prepare the ground for the radical change they wish to advocate by maintaining that Christianity has ever been a “changing movement.” They point to “two major new adjustments” of the nineteenth century, namely, the recognition that man must now be naturalistically understood as having “emerged within the evolution of the forms of life on this earth” (ignoring the fact that evolutionism is scientifically highly vulnerable), and the realization that the books of the Bible “cannot be accorded a verbal divine authority” (ignoring the fact that the majority of Christendom still believes otherwise). Then, contending that the doctrine of the incarnation was not an element of the original faith of Christian believers, they express their conviction “that another major theological development is called for in this the last part of the twentieth century,” namely, the abandonment of belief in the Incarnation. “The later conception” of Jesus, they explain, “as God incarnate, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity living a human life, is a mythological or poetic way of expressing his significance for us” (once more simply a matter of subjective value-judgment!). For those who think that this would be the betrayal of something essential to the faith once delivered they throw in the assurance that “modern scholarship has shown that the supposed unchanging set of beliefs is a mirage,” with the result that “ ‘Orthodoxy’ is a myth.”12 These academics are in fact hoping to persuade us that historic orthodoxy is actually heterodoxy and that their heterodoxy is after all these centuries of ecclesiastical incomprehension the original orthodoxy.

Accordingly, it is the atonishing claim of these authors that they have “come full circle back to the primitive faith of the church.”13 If this is really so, what, we may ask, has happened to the insistence on the necessity for constant change? Apparently the changes of the centuries, elsewhere said to be so integral a part of the church’s life, now need to be eradicated. The only change to be made is that of the elimination of change, so that we may return to a pristine faith. However, this is a faith that the first Christians would have found unrecognizable and unworthy of the name, and certainly so paltry and powerless that there could have been no point in living and dying for it. The distinctive character of this “primitive faith” is that it is totally natural and human; there is no place in it for the dimension of the supernatural or for divine intervention. This is a most happy discovery, because in our modern sophisticated world, too, “there is no room for God as a causal factor in our international, industrial or personal lives.”14 What we are invited to return to, then, is “a ‘deabsolutized’ scripture” which, we are instructed, “is of infinitely greater religious value than the flat oracle of fundamentalism”; and “a ‘deabsolutized’ Jesus” who “can be recognized as revealing God to us in much more complex ways than the Christ of Chalcedon.”15 Indeed, we are warned that “Chalcedonian christology could be a remote ancestor of modern unbelief”!16 It is even contended that these regrettable changes and additions to the simple “primitive faith” were made not only by the Nicene and Chalcedonian fathers but by the apostles themselves.17 Evidently these latter-day theologians have transferred to their own pronouncements the dogmatic infallibility that the church always believed to be a distinctive mark of the teaching of the apostles.

Nonetheless, careless of contradiction, they approve of change as a beneficial necessity inseparable from the relativities of the historical perspective. Thus they draw attention to “the great cultural gap which separates Jesus and his contemporaries from all things ‘modern.’ ”18 and assure us that, while “the idea of supernatural divine intervention was a natural category of thought and faith” and “supernatural causation was accepted without question” in the first century, such notions have become “simply incredible” for most people in this twentieth century, including “the main body even of convinced believers.”19 This, in fact, is a tendentious and misleading assertion, since millions of convinced believers in our modern world find these notions anything but incredible. One can only wonder at the puny god, deprived of the power of causation and intervention, that these reductionist academics have formed for themselves. For them to assure us, further, that “the raising of the dead to life, understood in the most literal sense, did not at that time and in those circles seem so utterly earth-shaking and well-nigh incredible as it does to the modern mind”20 flies in the face of all the evidence. Since the apostles themselves, let alone the rest of their first-century world, thought that the death of Jesus meant the end of Jesus and of their hopes in Him. They were at first completely incredulous when it was reported that He was alive from the dead. But, attributing the resurrection appearances of Jesus to “the power of hysteria within a small community,”21 the symposiasts will have none of this. For them, the measure of our sophistication must provide the canon of our christology. Christ, they stress, can remain a figure of inspiring significance to our world only “if he is an ever-changing figure. Just as he changed greatly between apostolic and Nicene times, so he has changed down the generations and must continue to change if, as cultural change accelerates, he is to continue to mediate the nature, grace and demands of God to succeeding generations.”22

The faith of the New Testament is secure and immutable precisely because it is founded on absolutes. But now with their plea for the deabsolutization of Christ and the Scriptures the authors of The Myth of God Incarnate are inviting the church to engulf itself in the quagmire of relativism. We are told that we must bid farewell to the uniqueness of the Christian faith and see it as merely sharing a place, pluralistically, with the other religions of the world. We are informed, as though it were a matter no longer open to question, of “our new recognition of the validity of the other great world faiths as being also, at their best, ways of salvation.” Consequently, our witness to Christ can only be relativistic, no more than a part contributed to the whole of religious reality, and the answer given to the question, “Should our revelation of the Logos, namely in the life of Jesus, be made available to all mankind?” is, “Yes, of course; and so also should other particular revelations of the Logos at work in human life—in the Hebrew prophets, in the Buddha, in the Upanishads and Bhagavad Gita, in the Koran, and so on.”23

In brief, we are being urged to abandon the uniqueness of the Christian gospel and to subjectivize the Christian faith (on the understanding that any other religion or none will serve the purpose equally well). No wonder the obligatory prerequisite for doing so is the “deabsolutization” of Christ and Bible, for it would be most inconvenient if the dominical pronouncement “No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6), the apostolic admonition that “salvation is found in no one else” (Acts 4:12), and the Pauline anathema thundered against any who should preach a different gospel (Gal. 1:6–9) were to remain unobliterated. But to remove the church’s landmarks in order to render it completely open and congenial to all and sundry of whatever persuasion is to lose the Christian faith, for it requires the dismantlement of the gospel. Those who are willing to pay that price have no right to the name of Christians. “The final tendency of ‘advanced theology’ is backwards” P. T. Forsyth once pointedly observed. “Like Molière’s ghost, it has improved very much for the worse.”24

As we have seen, it is the contention of modern liberal scholars that the Bible is historically and culturally conditioned not only in its provenance but also in the course of its interpretation across the centuries. Because the mentality of the first century was supposedly anything but commensurate with the mentality of the twentieth century, a radical reinterpretation is now being demanded as a necessity for the church. Their battle cry, like that of the militant evolutionists of a former generation, is “Change or perish!”—though always with the proviso that the change must be one of which they approve, that is to say, of a reductionist nature. For example, they deplore as a change for the worse the transition that they postulate took place from the understanding of the primitive church to that of the Chalcedonian Definition of the Faith in the fourth century. This is a judgment that I believe to be mistaken in respect, first, to there being a change and, second, to there being a change for the worse.

That there have been differing interpretations of the biblical text throughout the history of the church is an undeniable fact. But it is wrongheaded to adduce this as evidence that demonstrates either that the authority of Scripture (which can be made to mean different things by different people) is an illusion or that biblical interpretation is subject to historical relativity. It is not the comparatively few difficult and obscure passages that are in question here; precisely because of the uncertainty of their meaning, these passages naturally evoke a variety of judgments and explanations. Nor, for that matter, is it a question of those places where there are gaps in our knowledge rather than exegetical difficulties in the text. In this connection it is somewhat ironical that the earliest Christians were much better informed than we are. They knew, for instance, which languages Jesus spoke on different occasions, whether Paul realized his desire to carry the gospel as far west as Spain (Rom. 15:24, 28), who wrote the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the identity and location of its recipients, and they had the answer to numerous other matters now in dispute on which much intellectual energy in scholarly research and speculative ingenuity has been expended.

Our concern here, rather, is with straightforward passages whose sense is plain for all to see and that nonetheless have had a variety of interpretations imposed on them. This is not the place for a survey of hermeneutics, but it is well known that in the history of biblical exposition a fourfold scheme of interpretation (comprising the literal, allegorical, tropological, and anagogical senses) was long prevalent in church circles. For all practical purposes, however, these four senses amounted basically to two main senses, namely the literal and the allegorical—the literal being the natural or surface sense, and the allegorical the “spiritual” or deep sense. In the early Christian centuries two rival schools of interpretation appeared: the Antiochene, which insisted on the primacy of the literal sense, and the Alexandrian, which championed the allegorical sense, with Theodore of Mopsuestia as a leading exponent of the former and Origen of the latter. The allegorical method may be traced back to Greek intellectualism that prior to the Christian era had become accustomed to interpret the Hellenic mythology and the Homeric epics in an allegorical manner. Alexandria had for some considerable time enjoyed a reputation as a center of Greek culture. It was there that Philo, the Jewish philosopher and contemporary of the apostles, constructed his platonic allegorization of the events and personages of the Old Testament. But the allegorical method of biblical interpretation was not limited to a particular city or a restricted period of time. It had many exponents throughout the church from the subapostolic generation for fifteen hundred years. The method in fact persists right up to the present day in some Christian circles. Therefore it cannot be categorized as a phenomenon of historical relativity.

The principle behind the allegorizing method is nonetheless a pernicious one. It presupposes that under the surface of the text, hidden from the sight of the multitude, there lies a profound “spiritual” sense that only the expert is capable of discerning. This inevitably fosters an attitude of disdain and disregard for the plain, natural sense of the text and reduces the Bible to a book of intellectual word puzzles. It also leads to the spinning out of exegesis of the most elaborate and fantastic character that is as unedifying as it is fanciful. And, worst of all, it has the effect of taking the Bible out of the hands of the common people and making it the preserve of inventive academics. The two rival schools of Alexandria and Antioch have been mentioned, but it would be an oversimplification to imagine that the theory of either was invariably matched by its practice. The Antiochene exegetes pursued the saner course, allowing that different senses were present in Scripture and holding that any of these senses—whether historical, allegorical, ethical, or heavenly—might, depending on the nature of the passage and its context, be the proper or literal sense. They acknowledged also that a particular passage might well be susceptible of more than one sense. Thus, for example, it was certainly not illegitimate to see christological significance in much of the history of the Old Testament. But even these commentators occasionally succumbed to the temptation to indulge in allegorization of a questionable nature.

Allegorical esotericism is an abuse of Scripture. Its practitioners disclose deep secrets and arcane significances that were never there to begin with and never entered the mind of the author. The same results could be produced by the application of their ingenuity to virtually any other text of whatever kind, religious or irreligious. Moreover, as Luther remarked, “allegories of this sort prove nothing, and it is better to teach these things at their proper places, for it is hazardous to change meanings in this way and to depart so far from the literal meaning.”25 In general, the allegorizers “discovered” truths that were explicitly taught and constituted the literal sense elsewhere in the Bible; hence Luther’s admonition that “it is better to teach these things at their proper places.” In other words, the church’s allegorizers were inherently orthodox: it was not their intention to develop their technique as an instrument for the propagation of heterodoxy.

The point I am making here is that, until modern times, the church always had a clear and acknowledged line of orthodoxy. However much corrupt and unspiritual practices might infiltrate into its ranks, the standard of orthodoxy remained constant, and that standard was the doctrine of Holy Scripture. We cannot afford to overlook the significance of the church’s recognition of Scripture as canon, or measuring rod, to whose teaching all faith and practice, if they are to be genuinely Christian, must conform. Furthermore, the church formulated the ecumenical creeds as controls for the assents of its members, not, however, as additions or alternatives to the biblical canon, but as summary statements of central beliefs directly derived from Scripture, and authoritative precisely for that reason. The same is true of the Chalcedonian Definition of 451, which as a filling-out or amplification of the original Creed of Nicea was avowedly the church’s affirmation of the authentic apostolic faith of the New Testament. It did not create a departure from or alteration of the primitive Christian position (though some modern academics, as we have seen, would like to persuade us otherwise).

This consideration, however, should not be taken to imply that the church is immune to pressures arising from specific historical situations. Undoubtedly there was a strong temptation for the early church to accommodate its formulations to the idiosyncrasies of Greek thought then prevalent. But the orthodox leaders resolutely resisted this temptation. To maintain, as it is now fashionable to do in some academic circles, that the creedal documents of Nicea and Chalcedon represent a capitulation to Greek thought and the Hellenization of the church is to turn things upside down. As Greek was the language used, the articles of belief were expressed in Greek terms. But it is precarious to argue that the presence of Greek terminology means the adoption of Greek philosophy. Equally precarious is the conception, also fashionable, that there is a radical difference between Hebrew and Greek ways of thinking and that this radical difference is actually ingrained in the Hebrew and Greek languages. Hebrew thought/language, we have been assured a thousand times, is dynamic and concrete, whereas Greek thought/language is static and abstract, so that one might wonder how it could ever be possible to translate the one into the other. James Barr nailed the lid on the coffin of this scientifically disreputable canard in his book The Semantics of Biblical Language,26 but the misconception obstinately persists. The authors of The Myth of God Incarnate, for example, explain that the original (subjective) “poetry” hardened later into (objective) prose “and escalated from a metaphorical son of God to a metaphysical God the Son.”27 Moreover, Rudolf Bultmann speaks of the early church as having sought a solution to the christological question “in an inadequate way by means of Greek thought with its objectivizing nature, a solution which indeed found an expression that is now impossible for our thought, in the Chalcedonian formula.”28

Far from Greek philosophical notions being readily absorbed into the Christian system, it was precisely against the Hellenization of the faith that the leaders of the early church waged unrelenting warfare. Seen in its historical perspective, the Chalcedonian affirmation of Christ’s incarnation, death and resurrection, and double homoousios (“truly God and truly man, … of one substance with the Father as regards his Godhead, and at the same time of one substance with us as regards his manhood”) was a categorical rejection of the Greek philosophical mind, to which an affirmation of this kind was totally unacceptable. The battle actually began in the time of the apostles who emphatically opposed the threat to the gospel posed by docetism. The philosophical principle of docetism was the dualistic spirit/matter antithesis whose ancestry went back at least as far as Pythagoras and that continued its existence as the core of the more complicated forms of gnosticism elaborated in the postapostolic period. For those whose thought was governed by this principle the incarnation was an impossibility. So also the roots of Arianism, whose subtle formulations caused a crisis in the church of the fourth century, can be traced back to the theories of Greek philosophy. It was such Hellenizing movements that were decisively denounced and repudiated as heretical by the church’s first four general councils. In short, the real Hellenizers were the heretics! And the orthodox leaders of the church opposed them so resolutely because they saw clearly that the alien notions they wished to import attacked the heart of the gospel itself and that therefore the survival of authentic Christianity was at stake. It may well be that to some degree the statement of christological truth could benefit from a limited revision of the ancient terminology, but only with the proviso that this truth, being unique and ageless, is not itself compromised or subjected to revision.

The Chalcedonian Definition did not mark the end of the battle of truth against error. It was, however, the culmination of the church’s efforts in these early centuries to provide for all persons, and for all time, a statement of theological (and especially, because of the nature of their struggle, christological) orthodoxy that preserved the integrity of the gospel and faithfully set forth the teaching of Holy Scripture. The situation has been presented in admirable perspective by Aloys Grillmeier, who has expressed his conviction that “the simple, original proclamation of Christ, the revealer and bringer of salvation, the proclamation of Christ the Son of God can be heard in undiminished strength through all the philosophoumena of the Fathers.” He continues:

These philosophoumena, these technical concepts and formulas (though their “technical” character should not be exaggerated), are not an end in themselves. They have a service to perform for the faith of the church. They are intended to preserve the Christ of the gospels and the apostolic age for the faith of posterity. In all the christological formulas of the ancient church there is a manifest concern not to allow the total demand made on men’s faith by the person of Jesus to be weakened by pseudo-solutions. It must be handed on undiminished to all generations of Christendom. On a closer inspection, the christological “heresies” turn out to be a compromise between the original message of the Bible and the understanding of it in Hellenism and paganism. It is here that we have the real Hellenization of Christianity.29

Now again, in our day, the christological battle lines are drawn. As in the apostolic age, so once more in ours the warfare is quite simply between Christianity and antichristianity, between the authentic faith and a philosophical counterfeit, between divinely revealed truth and humanistic speculation. The admonition of the disciple whom Jesus loved is just as urgent in our twentieth century as it was when it was first written: “Many deceivers, who do not acknowledge Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh, have gone out into the world. Any such person is the deceiver and the antichrist. Watch out.… Anyone who runs ahead and does not continue in the teaching of Christ does not have God” (2 John 7–9).

In the perennial struggle against heterodoxy there has frequently been, perhaps not surprisingly, a tendency for the orthodox mind to lose the theological equilibrium that rightly belongs to the fullness of Christian truth. Preoccupation with the defense and affirmation of a doctrine that is under attack is understandable and necessary. In such a situation, however, the temptation is always there to allow the threatened doctrine so to dominate the orthodox perspective that other important doctrines, just as firmly believed, are not given due prominence. This leads to imbalance. The christological controversy of the fourth and fifth centuries provides an illustration of this sort of overreaction. The erroneous constructions placed by the Arians on certain texts, which they cited as proof that Christ was not the eternal Second Person of the Trinity but a creature of some kind, were in some cases countered by the champions of orthodoxy with interpretations that themselves were questionable. Thus it was agreed that the assertion of Psalm 2:7, “Thou art my Son, today I have begotten thee” (rsv) had christological significance. This passage, according to the Arian explanation, meant that there was a day when the Son was begotten and therefore a time when He came into being. Anxious to maintain the eternal deity of the Son, the majority of the orthodox theologians responded by asserting that the “day” in question was the everlasting day of God’s eternity and thus that the text implied not the temporal creatureliness but the eternal generation of the Son. They would, however, have done better to be guided by the apostolic interpretation according to which this verse was fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus, the incarnate Son, from the dead (Acts 13:32–33; Rom. 1:4; Heb. 1:5): the resurrection day was the day of the begetting or rebirth, in Christ, of the humanity He had taken to Himself. It was not as though the orthodox were dependent on the exposition of this text in a particular way for the establishment of their case. But in this and other instances their zeal for the doctrine of Christ’s eternal sonship caused them to engage in a less-than-satisfactory form of polemical exegesis. This, though, was no more than a tendency—an example, one might say, of the pressure of “historical relativism.” The unfailing loyalty of these advocates of the authentic faith was to the truth divinely revealed in Scripture, and it would be unpardonable to leave out of account the great number of passages legitimately adduced and interpreted by them to the confusion of their opponents.

Still today this tendency is discernible in the ranks of orthodoxy. In the face of current christological reductionism, which cuts the figure of the historic Jesus Christ down to the paltry dimensions of a mere man, dead and buried for nearly two millennia (psilanthropism), there has rightly been an emphatic insistence on His divine and eternal existence. But at the same time, and largely because of this, there has been an inadvertent neglect or misplacing of the rich biblical doctrine of the humanity of Christ and the absolutely fundamental significance for the believer of the human life, death, and glorification of Christ, since it was our humanity that He took to Himself in the incarnation in order that He might redeem it and bring it to its destined glory, which is His glory.

Likewise the modern humanistic determination to destroy the authenticity and therefore the authority of Holy Scripture, leaving no more than a mutilated corpse of a document, has rightly spurred those who have experienced the saving power of the Bible’s message to reaffirm with passion the truth of the Scriptures as the genuine and binding Word of God. But, challenged with the necessity for asserting the “divinity” of the Bible, some orthodox voices have remained silent about its “humanness.” There has been an unwillingness to acknowledge that the phenomenon of Scripture is a mystery. That the infinite God should condescend to us, in the sense of His coming down to our finite level, whether by the eternal Word’s becoming flesh and dwelling among us as man with man and for man, or by the communication of His truth, and in particular this truth, to us in the frail form of human language, is something so marvelous that it is beyond the limited grasp of our comprehension—though not, thanks to divine grace, beyond our experience. This condescension is humiliation, self-humbling. But it is humiliation with a purpose, and that purpose, being God’s purpose, is achieved with absolute adequacy and indefectibility.

Thus again today orthodox Christians are feeling the pressure of “historical relativity” as fresh and fierce assaults are launched against the bastion of Holy Scripture. In the heat of the conflict there is a strong temptation, when insisting on the “divinity” of Scripture, to thrust aside its “humanity,” and this can only be at the expense of upsetting the balance of the paradox and ignoring the mystery. There is then, inevitably, resort to rationalization, which in itself is a form of reductionism (even though this is the last thing that is intended) as the level is lowered to the capacity of human thought by putting the emphasis on one pole of the paradox. This tendency is sometimes displayed in the postulation that inerrancy belongs only to the original autographs, which (as far as we know) are no longer in existence. It is seen also in the deduction from this premise that we now possess only errant copies of these autographs. To be assured that these copies, though errant, are nonetheless infallible is far from helpful. The use of language in this confused and confusing manner is hardly conducive to sound reason and understanding. It creates, rather, the impression of verbal acrobatics.

Here I must state plainly that I certainly do not regard the original text as unimportant or as only relatively important. Obviously, full authenticity belongs only to the autograph or to a completely faithful copy of the autograph. This is the first principle of all textual and literary research, secular as well as religious. Obviously, too, in our reconstruction of the authentic biblical text we will favor the text that, to the best of our judgment, approximates most nearly to what was originally written—hence the painstaking process of textual criticism—and we will reject variant readings that we judge to be unoriginal. By the same token, we will welcome that translation that most accurately reproduces the meaning of the original (or, as we do not possess the original, the text closest to the original)—though a merely literalistic translation, word for word, would be altogether pitiful and inadequate (as a reference to any interlinear Hebrew-English or Greek-English Bible will show), since it is not a sequence of isolated words that have to be translated, but rather words in context and in combination as sentences and ideas and idioms. The points I wish to stress are these: (1) that even without possessing the autographs we have the Word of God, whether in Hebrew or Greek or in the form of a translation; (2) that the Scriptures are translatable without ceasing thereby to be the authentic Word of God; (3) that the term inerrancy is sometimes used in an ambiguous and confusing manner; (4) that the distinction between inerrancy and infallibility as between superior and inferior concepts is open to serious question; (5) that the “humanity” of Scripture, the fact that it involves the “weakness” inseparable from the finiteness of human language, must not be left out of account, even though by God’s grace it adequately fulfills its revelatory and redemptive purpose and there is a true harmony in the union of the “human” and the “divine”; (6) that thanks to the providential control and guidance of the Holy Spirit throughout the course of the church’s history the integrity of the Scriptures has been essentially preserved in the transmission of the text; and (7) that even if the autographs were to be discovered tomorrow, though this would display the authentic text and mean the end of all textual criticism, the problems and perplexities that puzzle us now would remain unresolved—the chronological questions regarding passion week, for example, or the difference in the order of Christ’s temptations as given by Matthew and Luke. Thus, much though we would like to have the original autographs, we are not at a disadvantage for not having them. No good purpose is served by taking refuge in unavailable autographs, and it is much healthier for us to speak simply, positively, and confidently of the Bible as the Word of God without any qualification.

Rather than stretch out the arm of our human reason to steady the ark of Scripture when it seems to be in danger of falling, we should approach the Bible with simplicity, reverence, and expectancy, and always with thankfulness, knowing it to be that inexplicable mystery that is the Word of God written. As such we acknowledge its teaching to be absolutely true and supremely authoritative. We shall not depend on our limited powers of logic or on the testimonies of experts and scholars (valuable though these may be in their place) for our persuasion that Scripture is indeed the Word of God, for it is only by the inner working and witness of the Holy Spirit that this conviction becomes unshakably established in our hearts and minds. And this is a certainty, as Calvin has observed, that is primary because it is “higher and stronger than any human judgment.”30 We must not allow “the certainty of faith to be supplanted by the certainty of intellect.”31 Moreover, the certainty of faith confirms to us the understanding that the Holy Spirit who first sovereignly gave the truth of Holy Scripture also sovereignly superintends the transmission of the Word of grace from generation to generation, kindling simultaneously in our hearts the response of belief in the gospel and the recognition that Scripture is indeed the dynamic Word of God. Thus throughout the course of history the written Word, precisely because it is God-breathed, accomplishes the purpose of its giving and prospers in the thing for which it was sent (Isa. 55:10). The Holy Spirit is indeed the primary author of Scripture, but we may also say, with Abraham Kuyper, that He is the perpetual author of Scripture as He graciously writes its revitalizing truth in the hearts and lives of believers from one age to another.32 Apart from the light He brings, the Scripture remains, because of our sinful blindness, as lusterless as a diamond in the dark.33 God’s Word will not and, by virtue of its being God’s Word, cannot return to Him empty. Its truth is eternal, its message is infinite grace, its power is to bring us from death to life through faith in Jesus Christ. That is why the truth of Holy Scripture triumphantly transcends and transforms all relativities of human history.

We who cherish the orthodox and evangelical faith have become too defensive about the Bible; we have grown accustomed to jumping from a worthy premise: “The Bible is the Word of God,” to a conclusion negative in form: “… therefore it is inerrant.” This, of course, is not wrong in itself, but I suggest that it reflects the position into which we have allowed ourselves to be maneuvered. We must move on to the offensive, boldly wielding this powerful weapon that we know to be the sword of the Spirit (Eph. 6:17), as we positively (and, I believe, more biblically) proclaim to the world that the Bible is the Word of God and therefore is living, dynamic, penetrating, and unfailingly effective as it cuts with the edge of redemption for the believer and with the edge of condemnation for the unbeliever (Heb. 4:12).

In much contemporary writing about hermeneutics, or the interpretation of Scripture, there seems to be a preoccupation with methods of understanding that may variously be described as humanistic, relativistic, or existentialist (self-centered). It is quite legitimate to recognize that there are significant differences between the horizon of the biblical author and the horizon of the modern interpreter and to take this difference into account; but, as Anthony Thiselton has pointed out, “historical method becomes anthropocentric when the interpreter’s own experience of life becomes the test of all historical truth.”34 Besides, as I have said earlier, the radical predicament of man remains unaltered through the centuries, and the authentic force of God’s Word, precisely because it is God’s Word, continues undiminished.

 

1 P. T. Forsyth, The Person and Place of Jesus Christ (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1909), p. 178.

2 P. T. Forsyth, Positive Preaching and the Modern Mind (New York: A. C. Armstrong, 1907), pp. 10, 13.

3 Karl Barth, Protestant Thought: From Rousseau to Ritschl (New York: Harper & Row, 1959), p. 148.

4 Ibid., p. 146.                                                        

5 Edward Caird, The Critical Philosophy of Immanuel Kant (Glasgow: J. Maclehose, 1889), 2:574–75.

6 Friedrich Schleiermacher, The Christian Faith (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1928), §128, pp. 591–93. (The German work was first published in 1821/22.)

7 Rudolf Bultmann, in Kerygma and Myth, ed. H.-W. Bartsch (London: SPCK, 1953), p. 209.

8 Rudolf Bultmann, Essays Philosophical and Theological (New York: Macmillan/London: SCM, 1955), pp. 286–87.

9 E. L. Mascall, The Secularization of Christianity (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1965), p. 11.

10 Bultmann, Essays, p. 280.

11 John Hick, ed., The Myth of God Incarnate (London: SCM, 1978).

12 Ibid., pp. ix–x.

13 Ibid., p. 61.

14 Ibid., p. 31.

15 Ibid., p. 141.

16 Ibid., p. 143.

17 Ibid., p. 60.

18 Ibid., p. 192.

19 Ibid., pp. 4, 31.

20 Ibid., p. 170.

21 Ibid., p. 59.

22 Ibid., p. 200.

23 Ibid., pp. 180ff.

24 Forsyth, Person and Place, p. 133.

25 Martin Luther, Lectures on Genesis (on Gen. 14:18).

26 Oxford: University Press, 1961.

27 Hick, ed., Myth, p. 176.

28 Bultmann, Essays, p. 286.

29 Aloys Grillmeier, Christ in Christian Tradition, vol. 1, From the Apostolic Age to Chalcedon, 2nd ed. (London: Mowbrays, 1975), p. 555.

30 John Calvin, Institutes I. vii. 1.

31 Abraham Kuyper, Principles of Sacred Theology (English trans., 1898; reprint ed., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965), p. 550.

32 Ibid., p. 402.

33 Ibid., p. 551.

34 Anthony Thiselton, The Two Horizons: New Testament Horizons and Philosophical Descriptions (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), p. 78.

If Jesus is the Jewish Messiah, why don’t more Jews believe in him? | Brown, M. L

If Jesus is the Jewish Messiah, why don’t more Jews believe in him?

Actually, there are tens of thousands of Jews who have believed and do believe in him. The problem is that most Jews have not bothered to check into the facts about Jesus, and the only Jesus most of them know is either the baby Jesus of Christmas, an emaciated figure hanging on a cross in churches, or the Jesus of the Crusades and Inquisitions. The question is, Why don’t you believe Jesus is the Messiah? Do you really know who he is?

I encourage you to consider the following points.

1. Most Jews have never seriously studied the issue. Many of those who have decided to find out who Jesus is have been quite surprised by what they have learned. The greatest scholars and scientists in the world once believed the earth was flat—until firsthand investigation and discovery altered their outlook. It’s the exact same thing with Jews who honestly investigate the Messianic claims of Jesus. Everything changes—to put it mildly.

2. If most religious Jews learn anything about Jesus in their traditional studies, it is quite biased and negative. 22 Thus, they do not entertain even the possibility of the messiahship of Jesus.

3. Many so-called Christians have committed atrocities against Jews in the name of Jesus, helping to drive Jews away from their true Messiah. (See below, 2.7, for more on this, along with my book Our Hands Are Stained with Blood.)

4. These same Christians have often put forth a distorted picture of Jesus that bears little resemblance to the real Messiah who walked the earth two thousand years ago. Can Jews be blamed for thinking that Christians worshiped idols when the churches were filled with worshipers bowing before large, beautiful statues depicting Jesus as a babe in his mother’s lap?

5. There is often great pressure on those Jews—especially religious Jews—who put their faith in Jesus the Messiah. Some succumb to the fear, the pressure, the intimidation, the separation, and the loneliness, and they deny with their lips what they know to be true in their hearts.

6. Traditional Jewish teaching gives a slanted portrayal of who the Messiah is and what he will do. Since the description is faulty, people are looking in the wrong direction for the wrong person. No wonder relatively few have found him.

7. Once a learned Jew does believe in Yeshua, he is discredited, and so his name is virtually removed from the rolls of history. It’s almost as if such people ceased to exist. (Do you remember reading the novel Animal Farm in school? Revisionist history goes on to this day—even in traditional Jewish circles.) The story of Max Wertheimer provides one case in point. In the last century, Wertheimer came to the States as an Orthodox Jew, but over the course of time, he became a Reform Jew and was ordained a rabbi upon graduating from Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati in 1889. (He also received a Ph.D. from the University of Cincinnati the same year.) He then served as the greatly loved rabbi of B’Nai Yeshurun synagogue in Dayton, Ohio, for the next ten years. When he became a fervent believer in Jesus, however, pastoring a church as well, his name was literally removed from the rolls of the school—a school of alleged tolerance at that. Why was his name dropped? According to Alfred A. Isaacs, cited in the November 25, 1955, edition of the National Jewish Post, Wertheimer was disowned by Hebrew Union College solely because of his Christian faith. 23 And to think, this happened in a “liberal” Reform Jewish institution!

8. Although this may be hard for you to accept, because our leadership rejected Jesus the Messiah when he came, God judged us as a people (just as he judged us as a people for rejecting his law and his prophets in previous generations), and as a result, our hearts have become especially hardened toward the concept of Jesus as Messiah. 24 Paul explained this in his important letter to the believers in Rome: “What Israel sought so earnestly it did not obtain, but the elect did. The others were hardened, as it is written: ‘God gave them a spirit of stupor, eyes so that they could not see and ears so that they could not hear, to this very day’ ” (Rom. 11:7–8; the quote here is taken from Deut. 29:4 in our Torah and Isa. 29:10 in our Prophets).

If you stop to think about it, isn’t it strange that as a people we have almost totally lost sight of the fact that Jesus-Yeshua is one of us, actually, the most influential Jew ever to walk the earth? 25 Yet most of us think of him as if he were some fair-skinned, blue-eyed European. The good news is that Israel’s hardening was only partial: There have always been Jews who followed Jesus the Messiah, and in the end, our people will turn back to him on a national scale. Paul explains this a few verses later:

I do not want you [Gentiles] to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers, so that you may not be conceited: Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of the Gentiles has come in. And so all Israel will be saved, as it is written: “The deliverer will come from Zion; he will turn godlessness away from Jacob. And this is my covenant with them when I take away their sins.”

Romans 11:25–27; the quote is taken from Isaiah 59:20–21; 27:9; and Jeremiah 31:33–34, all in our Prophets

Hopefully, you will be one of those Jews who is determined to find out the truth about the Messiah right now, determining to follow him at any cost. In the end, you must decide for yourself, and the bottom line question is one that only you can answer: Why don’t you believe Jesus is our promised Messiah?

What if more Jews—including your rabbi—did believe in him? Would you? Of course, that wouldn’t change the facts. Either Jesus is or is not the Messiah of Israel. Public opinion can’t affect the truth. But many times, when people find out that it’s okay to hold to a certain opinion, they come out of the closet.

Maybe it would help you to know that many of us in Jewish work have spoken with Orthodox and even ultra-Orthodox Jews who have told us in private that they believe Jesus is the Messiah, but they are afraid to go public for fear of what could happen to them. Maybe if a number of these religious Jews—some of whom are rabbis—showed up one day on your doorstep and told you their views, it would get you to think seriously about the matter.

As we grow and mature—from infants to children to teens to adults—we find out that not everything we have been told is true. Sometimes we just have to learn for ourselves. And even as adults, we often have skewed perspectives on many things. Just look at what Democrats believe about Republicans (and vice versa) or what Palestinians believe about Israelis (and vice versa) or what Black Muslims believe about Jews (and vice versa). Our perspectives, opinions, and convictions are not always right—no matter how strenuously we argue for our position. Common sense tells us that all of us can’t be right about everything all the time.

Even on an interpersonal level, how often have you met someone only to find out that all the bad things you heard about that person were greatly exaggerated or false? It happens all the time. As for the matter at hand, I assure you in the strongest possible terms: As a Jew, most everything you have heard about Jesus has been untrue. You owe it to yourself to find out just who this Jesus really is—and I say this to you whether you are an ultra-Orthodox rabbi reading this book in secret or you are a thoroughly secular, wealthy Jewish businessman who was given this book by a friend.

This much is certain: We have carefully investigated the claims of Jesus and can testify firsthand that Yeshua is who he said he was. What do you say?

[1]

 

22 The infamous Rabbinic collection of anti-Jesus fables, called Toledot Yeshu, is still studied in some ultra-Orthodox circles, although virtually all other Jewish scholars have long since repudiated the Toledot. These scurrilous writings, based in part on some Talmudic references, accusing Mary of fathering Jesus through a Roman soldier (or by rape), and portraying Jesus as an idolater, magician, and Israel’s arch-deceiver, were the primary source of information about Jesus for many traditional Jews, especially in the Middle Ages. Of course, as noted by the Oxford Dictionary of Jewish Religion, ed. Geoffrey Wigoder (New York: Oxford, 1997), 695, “the work is an expression of vulgar polemics written in reaction to the no less vulgar attacks on Judaism in popular Christian teaching and writing.” But as I have stated before, just as many Gentiles around the world have had a biased and inaccurate view of the Jewish people, so also have many Jews had a biased and inaccurate view of Jesus, the Jewish Messiah. For a representative sampling from the Toledot, see the excellent study of Walter Riggans, Yeshua ben David: Why Do the Jewish People Reject Jesus as Their Messiah? (Crowborough, England: Marc, 1995), 127–32. Interested readers of this present volume would do well to read Riggans as well.

23 For more on this, see Nahum Brodt, “The Truth about the Rabbi,” in Would I? Would You?, ed. Henry and Marie Einspruch (Baltimore: Lederer, 1970), 8–10. For a fuller account of Wertheimer’s faith, see Jacob Gartenhaus, Famous Hebrew Christians (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979), 191–97.

24 This is not the first time in our history that God has hardened our hearts because we sinned against him. This is what God said to the prophet Isaiah more than twenty-five hundred years ago: “Go and tell this people: ‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding; be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’ Make the heart of this people calloused; make their ears dull and close their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed” (Isa. 6:9–10). The prophet was actually called to a ministry of hardening his people’s hearts! It was as if God were saying, “Fine. If you want to be hard-hearted, refusing to believe me or obey me, I will give you over to your hardness and make you even harder.” This is exactly what has happened to us regarding the Messiah: When so many of our people refused to follow him, God gave us over to our unbelief and obduracy to the point that through the centuries, we have become especially resistant to Jesus.

25 This well-known, anonymous tribute to Jesus, known as “One Solitary Life,” puts things in perspective: “He was born in an obscure village. He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty. He then became an itinerant preacher. He never held an office. He never had a family or owned a house. He didn’t go to college. He had no credentials but himself. He was only thirty-three when the public turned against him. His friends ran away. He was turned over to his enemies and went through the mockery of a trail. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While he was dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing, the only property he had on earth. He was laid in a borrowed grave. Nineteen centuries have come and gone, and today he is the central figure of the human race. All the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one solitary life.”

[1]Brown, M. L. (2000). Answering Jewish objections to Jesus, Volume 1: General and historical objections. (21). Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Books.

How Can One God Be Three?

How Can One God Be Three?

Speaking through the prophet Isaiah, God said, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, / Nor are your ways My ways … / For as the heavens are higher than the earth, / So are My ways higher than your ways, / And My thoughts than your thoughts” (Isa. 55:8–9). God is infinite, man is finite, so there are mysteries about God that man cannot fully understand. One of these mysteries is the Trinity, the tri-personality of God. According to Christian orthodoxy, God is one God in essence, power, and authority, and also eternally exists as three distinct co-equal persons. These three persons are the Father, the Son (Jesus), and the Holy Spirit. This does not mean that Christians believe in three gods (polytheism). Rather, the doctrine of the Trinity is that there is only one God who exists in three distinct persons, and all three share the exact same divine nature or essence.

Understanding this fully is beyond human comprehension and has no human parallels, although various analogies have been offered. One of these analogies is the three physical states of water. Water is not only a liquid but also a solid (ice) and a gas (vapor), yet its chemical composition (substance) never changes in all three forms (two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen—H2O). Although such analogies help us visualize the concept of the Trinity, they all fall short in some way. In the case of the water analogy, although the molecule H2O can be liquid, solid, or gas, it is never all three at one time. The Trinity, on the other hand, is all three persons as one God.

The word Trinity is not used in Scripture, but it has been adopted by theologians to summarize the biblical concept of God. Difficult as it is to understand, the Bible explicitly teaches the doctrine of the Trinity, and it deserves to be explained as clearly as possible, especially to non-Christians who find the concept a stumbling-block to belief. So let’s dig into this topic by addressing four key questions.

IS THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY IRRATIONAL?

The doctrine of the Trinity is certainly a mystery but that doesn’t mean it’s irrational. The concept cannot be known by human reason apart from divine revelation, and, as we’ll soon see, the Bible definitely supports the idea of the Trinity. But for now, I want to demonstrate that the doctrine of the Trinity, although beyond human comprehension, is nevertheless rational. Our acceptance of it is congruous with how we respond to other data about the known world.

There are many things about the universe we don’t understand today and yet accept at face value simply because of the preponderance of evidence supporting their existence. The scientific method demands that empirical evidence be accepted whether or not science understands why it exists or how it operates. The scientific method does not require that all data be explained before it is accepted.

Contemporary physics, for instance, has discovered an apparent paradox in the nature of light. Depending on what kind of test one applies (both of them “equally sound”), light appears as either undulatory (wave-like) or corpuscular (particle-like). This is a problem. Light particles have mass, while light waves do not. How can light have mass and not have it, apparently at the same time? Scientists can’t yet explain this phenomenon, but neither do they reject one form of light in favor of the other, nor do they reject that light exists at all. Instead, they accept what they’ve found based on the evidence and press on.

Like physicists, we are no more able to explain the mechanics of the Trinity than they can explain the apparent paradox in the nature of light. In both cases, the evidence is clear that each exists and harbors mystery. So we must simply accept the facts and move on. Just because we cannot explain the Trinity, how it can exist, or how it operates does not mean that the doctrine must be rejected, so long as sufficient evidence exists for its reality. So let’s now explore this evidence.

HOW DOES THE BIBLE PRESENT THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY?

THE OLD TESTAMENT

Although the doctrine of the Trinity is fully revealed in the New Testament, its roots can be found in the Old Testament.

In several places, God refers to Himself in plural terms. For example, “Then God said, ‘Let Us make man in Our image’” (Gen. 1:26; see 3:22; 11:7; Isa. 6:8).

The Messiah was prophesied in the Old Testament as being divine. Isaiah 9:6 states that the Messiah will be called “Mighty God,” a term applied in the Old Testament specifically to Yahweh (see Mic. 5:2).

Isaiah 48:16 refers to all three members of the Godhead: “Come near to Me, listen to this: From the first I have not spoken in secret, from the time it took place, I was there. And now the Lord God [Father] has sent Me [Jesus], and His Spirit [the Holy Spirit]” (nasv).

The Old Testament also makes numerous references to the Holy Spirit in contexts conveying His deity (Gen. 1:2; Neh. 9:20; Ps. 139:7; Isa. 63:10–14).

THE NEW TESTAMENT

The New Testament provides the most extensive and clear material on the Trinity. Here are just a few of the texts that mention all three members of the Godhead and imply their co-equal status.

•     Matthew 28:19, the baptismal formula: “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name [not ‘names’] of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

•     Matthew 3:16, at the baptism of Christ in the Jordan: “And after being baptized, Jesus went up immediately from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened, and He saw the Spirit [Holy Spirit] of God [Father] descending as a dove, and coming upon Him [Jesus]” (nasv).

•     Luke 1:35, the prophetic announcement to Mary of Jesus’ birth: “And the angel answered and said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Highest [Father] will overshadow you; therefore, also, that Holy One who is to be born will be called the Son of God [Jesus].’”

•     The trinitarian formula is also found in 1 Peter 1:2, 2 Corinthians 13:14, and 1 Corinthians 12:4–6.

DIGGING DEEPER

To explain the doctrine of the Trinity, I will take an inductive (scientific) approach. By this I mean I will accumulate general facts in Scripture that lead to a specific conclusion—that the nature of God is triune. The argument will go like this:

1. The Bible teaches that God is one (monotheism) and that He possesses certain attributes that only God can have.

2. Yet when we study the attributes of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we discover that all three possess the identical attributes of deity.

3. Thus we can conclude that there is one God eternally existing as three distinct persons.

God Is One (Monotheism)

The Hebrew Shema of the Old Testament is “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one!” (Deut. 6:4; see Isa. 43:10; 44:6; 46:9). Some people have argued that this passage actually refutes the concept of the triune nature of God because it states that God is one. But the Hebrew word for “one” in this text is echod, which carries the meaning of unity in plurality. It is the same word used to describe Adam and Eve becoming “one flesh” (Gen. 2:24). Scripture is not affirming that Adam and Eve literally become one person upon marriage. Rather, they are distinct persons who unite in a permanent relationship.

The New Testament confirms the teaching of the Old: “You believe that God is one. You do well; the demons also believe, and shudder” (James 2:19, nasv; see 1 Tim. 2:5; 1 Cor. 8:4; Eph. 4:4–6).

God Has a Certain Nature

Both the Old and New Testaments list the attributes of God. We won’t consider all of them here, but what follows are some of the clearest expressions of what constitutes deity.

•     God is omnipresent (present everywhere at once): Psalm 139:7–10; Jeremiah 23:23–24.

•     God is omniscient (possesses infinite knowledge): Psalms 139:1–4; 147:4–5; Hebrews 4:13; 1 John 3:20.

•     God is omnipotent (all-powerful): Psalm 139:13–18; Jeremiah 32:17; Matthew 19:26.

The Father Is God

To the Jews, who do not accept the Trinity, God is Yahweh. In the Old Testament, Yahweh is to the Hebrews what Father is in the New Testament and to Christians. The attributes of God (Yahweh) listed above are the same for Yahweh and Father because both names apply to the one God. Although the concept of God as Father is not as explicit in the Old Testament as it is in the New, nevertheless, it has its roots in the Old (see Pss. 89:26; 68:5; 103:13; Prov. 3:12).

In the New Testament, the concept of the Father as a distinct person in the Godhead becomes clear (Mark 14:36; 1 Cor. 8:6; Gal. 1:1; Phil. 2:11; 1 Pet. 1:2; 2 Pet. 1:17). God is viewed as Father over creation (Acts 17:24–29), the nation of Israel (Rom. 9:4; see Exod. 4:22), the Lord Jesus Christ (Matt. 3:17), and all who believe in Jesus as Lord and Savior (Gal. 3:26).

The Son Is God

Like the Father, Jesus possesses the attributes of God. He is omnipresent (Matt. 18:20; 28:20). He is also omniscient: He knows people’s thoughts (Matt. 12:25), their secrets (John 4:29), the future (Matt. 24:24–25), indeed all things (John 16:30; 21:17). His omnipotence is also taught. He has all power over creation (John 1:3; Col. 1:16), death (John 5:25–29; 6:39), nature (Mark 4:41; Matt. 21:19), demons (Mark 5:11–15), and diseases (Luke 4:38–41).

In addition to these characteristics, Jesus exhibits other attributes that the Bible acknowledges as belonging only to God. For example, He preexisted with the Father from all eternity (John 1:1–2), accepted worship (Matt. 14:33), forgave sins (Matt. 9:2), and was sinless (John 8:46).

The Holy Spirit Is God

The Holy Spirit is also omnipresent (Ps. 139:7–10), omniscient (1 Cor. 2:10), and omnipotent (Luke 1:35; Job 33:4).

Like Jesus, the Holy Spirit exhibits other divine attributes that the Bible ascribes to God. For instance, He was involved in creation (Gen. 1:2; Ps. 104:30), inspired the authorship of the Bible (2 Pet. 1:21), raised people from the dead (Rom. 8:11), and is called God (Acts 5:3–4).

The upshot of all this is that God is triune. In a formal argument, we can put it this way:

Major Premise:

Only God is omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent.

Minor Premise:

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent.

Conclusion:

Therefore, God is triune as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

THE TRINITY

HOW DOES JESUS TEACH THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY?

In the Bible, Jesus claims to be God and then demonstrates this claim by displaying the attributes of God and by raising Himself from the dead. So what Jesus has to say about God must be true. And Jesus clearly teaches that God is triune.

Jesus Is Equal with the Father and Holy Spirit

In Matthew 28:19, Jesus tells His followers to “make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” He uses the singular word name but associates it with three persons. The implication is that the one God is eternally three co-equal persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Jesus Is One with the Father

In John 14:7 and 9, Jesus identifies Himself with the Father by saying to His disciples, “If you had known Me, you would have known My Father also; and from now on you know Him and have seen Him … He who has seen Me has seen the Father” (see John 5:18). Jesus is not claiming to be the Father; rather, He is saying that He is one with the Father in essence.

Jesus Is One with the Holy Spirit

Continuing in John 14, Jesus tells His disciples that, after He is gone, He will send them “another Helper” who will be with them forever and will indwell them (vv. 16–17). The “Helper” is the Holy Spirit. The trinitarian implication lies with the word another. The apostle John, as he wrote this passage, could have chosen one of two Greek words for another. Heteros denotes “another of a different kind,” while allos denotes “another of the same kind as myself.” The word chosen by John was allos, clearly linking Jesus in substance with the Holy Spirit, just as He is linked in substance with the Father in verses 7 and 9. In other words, the coming Holy Spirit will be a different person than Jesus, but He will be the same with Him in divine essence just as Jesus and the Father are different persons but one in their essential nature. Thus, in this passage, Jesus teaches the doctrine of the Trinity.

So far we have seen that the authors of Scripture and Jesus Christ teach the triune nature of God. Therefore, the only way the doctrine of the Trinity can be rejected is if one refuses to accept the biblical evidence. Some groups, such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses, do this by reinterpreting and altering Scripture. Others, such as the Unitarians (who claim that Jesus is just a man), arbitrarily and without any evidence deny anything supernatural or miraculous in the Bible. Both the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Unitarians are guilty of the very same thing of which they accuse Christians—irrationality. They refuse to accept the evidence for the Trinity regardless of how legitimate it is. This is unscientific and irrational. If one approaches Scripture without bias, he will clearly discover what the church has maintained for centuries: God is triune—one God in essence but eternally existing in three persons as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

A COMMON OBJECTION

Perhaps you’ve wondered or heard someone say, “If Jesus is one in essence with the Father, an equal member of the triune Godhead, why does He say, ‘the Father is greater than I’” (John 14:28)? This question actually moves away from the doctrine of the Trinity and launches us into the doctrine of the incarnation, the process whereby Jesus, as the eternal Son of God, came to earth as man. Nevertheless, because this question is frequently raised as an objection, it needs to be answered.

Numerous passages in Scripture teach that Jesus, although fully God, is also fully man (John 1:14; Rom. 8:3; Col. 2:9; 1 Tim. 3:16). However, Philippians 2:5–8 states that, in the process of taking on humanity, Jesus did not give up any of His divine attributes. Rather, He gave up His divine glory (see John 17:5) and voluntarily chose to withhold or restrain the full use of His divine attributes. There are numerous instances in Scripture where Jesus, although in human form, exhibits the attributes of deity. If Jesus had surrendered any of His divine attributes when He came to earth, He would not have been fully God and thus could not have revealed the Father as He claimed to do (John 14:7, 9).

The key to understanding passages such as John 14:28 is that Jesus, like the Father and the Holy Spirit, has a particular position in the triune Godhead. Jesus is called the Son of God, not as an expression of physical birth, but as an expression of His position in relationship to the Father and Holy Spirit. This in no way distracts from His equality with the Father and the Holy Spirit or with His membership in the Godhead. As man, Jesus submits to the Father and acts in accordance to the Father’s will (see John 5:19, 30; 6:38; 8:28). So when we read passages such as Mark 14:36 where Jesus submits to the Father’s will, His submission has nothing to do with His divine essence, power, or authority, only with His position as the Incarnate Son.

Perhaps an illustration will help to explain this. Three people decide to pool their money equally and start a corporation. Each are equal owners of the corporation, but one owner becomes president, another vice-president, and the third secretary/treasurer. Each are completely equal so far as ownership, yet each has his own particular function to perform within the corporation. The president is the corporate head, and the vice-president and secretary/treasurer are submissive to his authority and carry out his bidding.

So when Jesus the God-man submits to the Father’s will or states that the Father is greater than He or that certain facts are known only by the Father (e.g., Matt. 24:36), it does not mean that He is less than the other members of the Godhead but that in His incarnate state He did and knew only that which was according to the Father’s will. The Father did not will that Jesus have certain knowledge while in human form. Because Jesus voluntarily restrained the full use of His divine attributes, He was submissive to the Father’s will.

Why did Jesus choose to hold back from fully using His divine powers? For our sake. God willed that Jesus feel the full weight of man’s sin and its consequences. Because Jesus was fully man, He could fulfill the requirements of an acceptable sacrifice for our sins. Only a man could die for the sins of mankind. Only a sinless man could be an acceptable sacrifice to God. And it is only because Jesus is an equal member of the triune Godhead, and thus fully God, that He was able to raise Himself from the dead after dying on the cross and thereby guarantee our eternal life.

When all the evidence is accounted for and the verdict read, the Bible clearly teaches that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are three distinct, co-equal, co-eternal members of the Godhead, yet one in essence, power, and authority. All three are one God. Were this not the case, if the Trinity were not a reality, there would be no Christianity.

[1]

 

 

[1]Story, D. (1997). Defending your faith. Originally published: Nashville : T. Nelson, c1992. (99). Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications.

In the Garden of Eden, the serpent told Eve that if she and Adam ate of the forbidden fruit, they would be “as gods” (Gen. 3:5 KJV). Then in Genesis 3:22 God says, “Behold, the man has become like one of us” (NASB). Does “gods” and “us” imply the existence of more than one God?

In the Garden of Eden, the serpent told Eve that if she and Adam ate of the forbidden fruit, they would be “as gods” (Gen. 3:5 KJV). Then in Genesis 3:22 God says, “Behold, the man has become like one of us” (NASB). Does “gods” and “us” imply the existence of more than one God?

In the Garden of Eden, the serpent told Eve that if she and Adam ate of the forbidden fruit, they would be “as gods” (Gen. 3:5 KJV). Then in Genesis 3:22 God says, “Behold, the man has become like one of us” (NASB). Does “gods” and “us” imply the existence of more than one God?

Not at all. The usual Hebrew term for “God” is ʾelōhím, which is the plural of ʾelôah. It is occasionally used as a true plural, referring to the imaginary gods of the heathen. But usually it refers to the one true God, and the plural ending is known to Hebrew grammarians as the “plural of majesty.” Like ʾadōním (“lords” or “Lord”) and beʿālím (plural of baʿal, “lord,” “master,” “owner,” “husband”), ʾelōhím also may be used to give a heightened impressiveness of majesty to God. As such, this plural is modified by adjectives in the singular and takes a singular verb.

In the case of the serpent, serving as Satan’s mouthpiece, his previous uses of ʾelōhím (3:1,5a) are unquestionably intended as a designation of the one true God; hence, it is altogether likely that it should be so used here. Therefore, the proper rendering of 3:5b should be (as ASV, NASB, NIV, and even the Luther Bible): “You will be like God, knowing good and evil,” The last phrase acts as a qualifier; that is, “you will be like God in that you will have personal knowledge of the moral law, with the distinction that it draws between good and evil.” No longer would they remain in a state of innocency, but they would have a (guilty) personal experience of evil and would be to that extent closer to God and His angels in the matter of full moral awareness.

Who, then, constitutes the “us” referred to in v.22? Conceivably the three persons of the Trinity might be involved here (as in Gen. 1:26), but more likely “us” refers to the angels surrounding God’s throne in heaven (cf. 1 Kings 22:19; Isa. 6:1–3, etc.). There are a few passages in the Old Testament where the angels are referred to as benê ʾelōhîm (“sons of God,” e.g., Job 1:6; 2:1; 38:6; cf. benê ʾēlîm—a shortened form of ʾelōhîm, Ps. 29:1; 89:6). In some cases, just as benê Yiśrāʾēl (“sons of Israel”) is shortened to Yiśrāʾēl alone (referring to the nation of Israel rather than to Jacob), so also benê ʾelōhîm (“sons of God” in the sense of angels) is shortened to ʾelōhîm, as in Psalm 97:7.

It was certainly true of the angels of heaven that they too had acquired a knowledge of good and evil. Before the dawn of human history, there was apparently a revolt against God under the leadership of Satan or “Lucifer” (see Isa. 14:12–15, where Satan is addressed as the patron of the king of Babylon). This is probably alluded to in 2 Peter 2:4: “God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell and committed them to pits of darkness, reserved for judgment.” Therefore, those angels who remained true to the Lord were members of His heavenly court, having passed the tests of faithfulness and obedience in the face of temptation.

[1]

 

 

[1]Archer, G. L. (1982). New International Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties. Originally published: Encyclopedia of Bible difficulties. 1982. Zondervan’s Understand the Bible Reference Series (74). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House.

Exit mobile version