(Thanks to Kevin for the inspiration!)

In Luke 10, Jesus tells the famous story of the Good Samaritan.  In this narrative, the behavior of the Samaritan toward the injured man is juxtaposed with that of the a priest and a Levite to reveal the nature of the message of love which Jesus was teaching, a love which treats one's "neighbor" as oneself.

Obviously, the various facets of this story have been mulled over for countless centuries.  However, while listening to a exposition of this passage this weekend, I was struck by something of an interesting idea: that the nature of love and generosity transcends morality. 

Let me explain.

Generally, the attitudes of the Levite and priest are characterized quite pejoratively--after all, it is they who walked so callously by the injured man, with seemingly little regard for his life or injuries.  While there is certainly a measure of truth to this characterization, I think some other considerations are warranted.

One of these considerations is that these men did not bypass the injured man out of gross neglect or comfortable apathy.  In fact, it is quite possible that their hearts were moved to compassion.  If this is so, why did they not then act?

Part of the answer may be that their moral systems prevented them.  For a priest especially, coming into contact with the injured (or perhaps dead) man would have brought ritual defilement.  The priest would have become ritually unclean and would have been unable to perform his normal priestly duties.  This would have brought shame and embarrassment, and both he and his entire family would have borne the consequences.  So then, perhaps some of their motivation for passing by may have been honest commitments to upholding some system of morality, notwithstanding what we may think of them in hindsight.

Now of course, the natural reaction to such a conclusion is that their systems of morality are simply <strong>wrong</strong>.  After all, what kind of moral system would prevent--actively or otherwise--basic acts of humanity toward another?

Let us not forget, however, the Samaritan was not without his own moral orientation.  For hundreds of years, the Samaritans had been religiously, socially and economically oppressed by the Jews.  Samaritans and Jewish children were raised to despise and hate one another, and it is said that Jews would often go hundreds of miles out of their way simply to avoid traveling through Samaritan territory.  Fast-forward to Jesus' time, and it is clear that the Samaritan more than likely saw the man (who was probably a Jew) as an enemy.  For any self-respecting, moral Samaritan, an injured or dead Jew is but a small step toward recompense for a long history of violence and oppression. 

So that is the story of our 3 men.  All of them have strong moral systems that clearly define their identity in relation to each other and, for the purposes of this story, to the injured man along the side of the road.  Each of their moral systems would have held them in the "right" to pass on by, to look the other way.  None of their moral systems would have condemned them for not bothering themselves with the troubles of this poor, bloody man.

If this is true, what is it that made the Samaritan stop?  What prompted him to load the man on his donkey?  What compelled him to seek medical care for the man's wounds, going so far as to put out his own hard-earned money to see that his every need was met? 

Despite the rhetorical beauty of it, the reason is not that the Samaritan was an unnaturally moral man, nor that his moral system was somehow superior to that of the priest or the Levite.  Quite to the contrary, the truth of Jesus' teaching in this parable is that the Samartian's actions were so exemplary precisely because they  transcended the man's moral categories.  Here, Jesus is teaching that true, divine love is not bound to the vacillations of human morality--in fact, he teaches that by necessity love must transcend human categories of morality in order for love and generosity to not be corrupted or subverted by the same.

I think this is an important distinction to make.  After all, if the premise of this discussion is sound, it is clear how powerful systems of morality can be.  For the Levite and the priest, they were strong enough to convince each of them that is was appropriate to leave the man to his death.  But the more profound point here is not simply that their systems of morality allowed such an action; the devious nature of these systems is that <strong>each of these men went on their way fully justified in their actions</strong>.  Because they had maintained right standing within their particular moral systems, they could return to their lives in peace and self-assurance, easily putting the man out of their thoughts.

Lest we despise these men for their seeming callousness, we should remember that we are not immune from the same pitfalls.  How many places in our cities do we avoid because we do not want to be "morally corrupted?"  How many people do we turn away--actively or passively--because our moral "compasses" cause us to look the other way because we don't want to get involved?  How often do we withhold our wealth because of pre-moral determinations about how others will use (read "waste) these resources? 

No, within each of us are all three men.  Without trying, we can easily be the priest and the Levite.  We can sleep soundly at night and walk securely through the day, self-justified in our own feelings of morality while the world lies bloodied and dying along the side of the road.  However, we can also be the Samaritan.  This does not mean that we are thoroughly holy people for whom generosity and love come as easily as breathing.  No, it will be a struggle and it will require that we set aside a lot of assumptions we have about the nature of love and morality.  But rest assured, just as with the Samaritan, it will transcend every category we'd like to lock around it.  True love is revealed, perhaps only when the nature of grace explodes every preconception we have.  It is in this moment that the Spirit of divine love is released to do that which we could never do ourselves.

Over the last three weeks, ToothandNail records has released 3 tremendously cool albums, all of which reveal just how far ToothandNail has come. 

Before the albums, however, let me reminisce :).  I've been a fan of ToothandNail for a LONG time.  10 years or so ago, ToothandNail was releasing copious amounts of albums.  The one problem: they didn't have the resources for good production or good recording.  The result was really cool albums that sounded like crap.  

Fortunately, those days are long gone.  With the success of many of its roster of bands, ToothandNail has obviously been able to upgrade its recording and production talent.  Most of albums coming out of ToothandNail are slick and finished, lacking any remnants of the good old days.

With that said, the albums I've been listening to are as follows:

Emery :  While Broken Hearts Prevail

This is really more of an EP, but it's got some seriously cool songs on it. Emery's sound continues to evolve as the band becomes less and less afraid to loosen the tether to their trademark screamo.  It worked well for Dead Poetic (IMO), so I think it's a positive for Emery as well.

Ruth :  Anorak

My first exposure to Ruth came a week ago when I was browsing ToothandNail's site looking for information about Emery.  Reminiscent of bands like This Day and Age and Waking Ashland, Ruth is powerpop all the way through.  Nonetheless, they bring some pretty intoxicating melodies (especially on "Nothing to Hide")--great drowning-out-the-dullness-of-work music.

Starflyer 59 :  Dial M

I've listened to Starflyer 59 since they began in 1993, and I've always believed that SF's Martin is infinitely more interesting and talented than another Martin of Joy Electric fame...Anyway, Dial M is easily SF's best album to date.  Smart lyrics and ridiculously interesting arrangements imbue every song with life and quell the doubts about the relevance of Starflyer to the post-90's music scene.

Seriously, do not waste any more time.  Go find these three albums right now.  Throw away everything else you have and listen to nothing else for 3 weeks.  You will not regret it.

Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.  -  Matthew 25:34

This vision of the kingdom of God reveals an interesting perspective into the identification of the face of God.  The scenario is that of the eschatological Christ presented as victor and King.  Yet the ones who belong to the kingdom of the Victor are not warriors and statesmen, nor kings and rulers--rather, it is the sick, the impoverished and the oppressed.  Yet these are not simply citizens of God's eschatological kingdom by proxy, but are more audaciously the ones with whom God in Christ self-identifies.  It is in their faces and lives that God dwells most vividly.

It is often said that God is no respector of persons; and in ways this is probably true.  However, the eschatological Christ reveals that the poor and downtrodden have a special place within the life and kingdom of God.

If the poor and oppressed have such a central place in the eschatological kingdom of God, what then should the Christian response to poverty be?  Historically, the answer has been varied.  At times, the Church has made tremendous outreach toward inclusivity and restoration of the poor and marginalized while, at other times, an unfortunate tendency toward over-spiritualization has resulted in increased oppression and neglect in the name of spreading the gospel.

With either approach, however, the danger is that whether the goal is social good or evangelism, the poor will yet remain "them".   Filling bellies and souls is great, but if the impoverished are ever on the outside, the goal of the eschatological kingdom of God is lost.  

This is why the early Church was so appealing to the poor and distressed.  It was not simply because the people did good things for each other, but because by entering into relationship with the Church, people were welcomed into a community of shared life, acceptance and grace.  In this community they found help and life that vanquished the despair and distress of the world around them.

And this is precisely the picture that we find in this vision of God's kingdom.  The face of Christ within the poor and marginalized professes that these not only find a special place within the heart of God, but that it is through community with "the least of these" that the kingdom of God is realized.  The face of Christ in these calls and compels us all to engage their needs and to welcome them into their lives that we might be incorporated into theirs.  As we do, we find that the kingdom of God is realized in us as we embrace the face of God for which we all seek.

So a coworker and I are always talking about code.  Not terribly interesting (especially for people who aren't in the biz...), but sometimes we make ourselves laugh.  Yes, I know.  I am a huge nerd for finding conversations about code to be funny...

But anyway, the other day we were talking about XHTML validation (you're welcome to start sleeping about right now, if you wish) and how validation fails if there are markup tags that are not "closed" (e.g., a "div" tag that hold an image, text, etc. needs to have a "closing" tag to tell the browser what it's dealing with). 

Somehow, the comment was made that life feels like failed XHTML validation--replete with open "tags" of disappointment that never close...

Boy, I made myself bored just writing this.  Appartently my line of work is dorky and lame.  Oh well.   

Wow.  I haven't posted here since the middle of May.  

Well, I've been busy...and whatnot.

For the last several months, I've been extremely busy with my company, Singularity Concepts.  I've launched several websites and currently have some "bigguns" in progress.

But for some reason, I've gotten the theology bug recently.  So here goes.

The other day, I came across a post talking about problems with Arminian theology.  As was once my practice, I jumped into the fray, gunning down the arguments of my Calvinist detractors (not to difficult, but good sport nonetheless).  At one point, one of the Arminians actually defended the Reformed view of the atonement, and pointed me to a post somewhere which he believed was a "great" defense of PSA theory from a non-Reformed perspective.

Needless to say, the argument highlighted was terrifically weak and philosophically thin, but one point did pique my interest.  One of the fundamental arguments made by the author for his view of atonement is that sin damages God's glory, and that this glory must be restored.

Obviously, this is nothing new.  Beginning primarily with Anselm, theologians have thought this way about atonement.  Simply, they suggest that in the fall and continuing sinfulness, humanity degrades the glory of God.  As God must be glorified, the argument continues, something must be done to restore God's honor.  The answer, for whatever reason, follows that punishment of the perpetrators of sin will effect this restoration.  So then, the peculiar mystery of atonement is that Christ is able, as the Incarnate God, to not only encapsulate the whole of history's dishonor of God, but is moreover able to vicariously bear the penalty of this, thereby fully satisfying the honor of God and its due requirement for restitution.

Several problems crop up, of course, for this theory.  The most disturbing, however, is its view of God's honor and glory.

Consider this.  If God is eternally glorious, it stands to reason that the eternality of this glorification concomitantly requires that the amount or level of God's gloriousness is not diminished.  After all, if God's glory waned at any moment, God's would seek to be eternally glorified, and would thereby cease to be God.  Simple enough.

However, we must go deeper: what is the source of God's glorification?  Is it attributed to God by others, or is it self-referential?  The former conclusion poses signficant problems, for it requires that that which attributes glory to God exist eternally with God, whereby the glory which accrues to God might be equally eternal with God (for if God is not eternally glorious, God is not eternally divine).  If we say that glory is attributed to God by that which is not God, one must posit that that which is not God has existed eternally whereby it might be identified as the source of attribution of God's glory.  This, of course, blurs any meaningful distinction between God and that which God has created, creating a thoroughgoing pantheism.  So it must be concluded that God's glory is self-referential.

If this is case, however, we must return to the original notation about the eternality of God's glory, e.g., that there is no point at which God's glory is diminished.  If the logic of this is understood, then it must be further concluded that there is nothing, either internal or external to God, that can in any way add to or diminish from God's glory.  For such a scenario to be possible, one would have to suggest that God's self-referential glory has not be as infinite and eternal as the divine existence toward which it is directed and from which it procedes.

So for discussions of atonement, the notion that God's glory and honor is somehow detracted through human sin must be rejected, for if this is true, we must admit that human sinfulness is capable of diminishing the eternality and fulness of the divine life, even though that which detracts is ultimately dependant upon the former for its primal ontology.  

What, then, does this mean?  It requires that when we approach an understanding of atonement, it must be recognized that the cross is not "for God."  The cross is not a mechanism for filling a deficiency in the divine person, as if something needs to be restored unto God, lest God be understood as incomplete.  This is ludicrous, for a God which lacks that which is essential to deity (e.g., eternal glory) is no longer God.