Month: July 2009

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Thoughts on Providence and Hell

By Jim Spiegel

I hold to a high view of providence—what is sometimes called the “Augustinian” perspective.  This is essentially the view that God actively governs the entire cosmos, including human beings.  The Augustinian view jives well with the Calvinist doctrine of salvation, which I also espouse, but it is much broader than this, affirming that everything that happens in history is somehow part of the divine plan.  The Augustinian view of providence is strongly affirmed in the Westminster Confession of Faith, which declares that God ordains all things that come to pass.

This is a hard teaching, and frankly I can see why many Christians reject it.  The two principal objections to the Augustinian view appeal to human freedom and the problem of evil.  And between these two, the latter seems to me to be the stronger objection by far.  How could God ordain such terrible evils as the Holocaust or that a small child should suffer from a brain tumor?  Good questions indeed, and I certainly feel their force.

My wife, Amy, is also an Augustinian when it comes to providence.  (I distinctly recall when I first learned that this was her view.  It was early in our dating relationship, and this revelation, combined with her usual thoughtful articulation of her perspective, floored me.  Like so many other issues, she arrived at the same conclusion as I, but via a more intuitive path than my more logical-theoretical approach.  This was probably the clincher for me—when I knew I was falling for her.  Or was it when she turned me on to the band Cake?  Hmm…  Anyway, I digress.)  Recently, Amy had a long discussion with a friend about providence, and naturally, her friend posed the objection from evil, specifically challenging Amy to explain why God would allow a little child to have cancer.  Amy responded by noting that God does everything he does for greater goods, such as to glorify himself and bless others.  And sometimes this involves or even requires intense suffering.  And if God can bring greater goods through the crucifixion of Jesus, which is the worst evil in history, then why can’t he bring greater goods through lesser, though still horrific, evils, such as cancer?  Amy’s friend was not convinced, and they went on to discuss other things.

Later, when recounting their conversation, Amy noted how this same friend of hers affirms the traditional view of hell, known as the doctrine of “eternal conscious torment.”  This is the view that those who are condemned to hell suffer eternally.  Not only are the pains of hell unspeakably intense, but they last forever, according to this view.  One of the many reasons that Amy and I reject this doctrine (in addition to the fact that it is not biblical) is that such endless suffering constitutes infiniteevil for which there is no redemption or sufficiently greater good.  (Traditionalists, of course, argue that the greater good is that it demonstrates the justice of God.  But how can infinite punishment for finite sins be just?  In case you were wondering, we affirm “conditional immortalism,” the view that the damned are eventually annihilated in hell and that only those in Christ live eternally.)  Ironically, many of these traditionalists who believe God tortures the damned forever in hell are the same people who reject the high view of providence because it implicates God in our finite suffering here on Earth.  As Amy put it, some people can’t accept a God who allows cancer but they glibly confess that he allows infinite suffering in hell. 

I suppose part of the explanation for this inconsistency lies in the fact that all (or most) of us have known cancer victims and have witnessed its awful ravages.  None of us, however, have personally witnessed the horrors of hell.  So, in the end, the problem is that of an existential gap.  It’s easier to understand or appreciate what one has experienced than what one has not experienced.  And it often takes tremendous effort to close this gap.  When it comes to comparing the sufferings of the damned and suffering in this life, I suppose that gap could never truly be closed.  We just can’t imagine the pains of hell, while the suffering we witness here among friends and family is all too real and, at times, overwhelming.  But we can always do better to put these things into proper perspective, and if we do so, I believe it will help us to better formulate our views on the doctrines of providence and hell, among other issues.

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Living in the Twilight

By Amy Spiegel

The DVD selection at our small local library isn’t what you’d call expansive and leans more to the popular than the classic. A few nights back, I was heading home to face a mountain of laundry screaming for my attention and decided that I was okay with popular. I had heard a great deal about Twilight, both the book and the film, and decided it couldn’t be any worse than The Princess Protection Program which I had watched early in the week with the kids. Relative to its genre, the movie was more than half bad— interesting storyline and a plot that keeps you (or at least me) hooked till the end. I did, however, feel more than slightly self-conscious when explaining to Jim what I was watching. In an attempt to keep myself from looking like a total loser who sits around folding laundry and watching teenie bopper flicks, I decided to call it “cultural observation” and make a post out of it. Therefore, you the reader can benefit from my wisdom (or suffer through my folly).

twilightIf you don’t have any teens in your life and haven’t heard of the Twilight series, the basic premise is this: Bella, a young woman who has recently moved to live with her father in Washington state, becomes intrigued by and then falls madly in love with Edward, an aloof outsider who initially repels Bella’s attempts to befriend him but continues to pop up just in time to come to her rescue. Eventually it is revealed that Edward as well as his “foster” parents and siblings are vampires. Edward desires to save Bella from the monster within him and thus tries (and fails) to prevent her from getting too close. Now I realize that this sounds like the plot of myriad love stories, and in many ways it is just a new spin on an old tale. But isn’t that what draws us to so many narratives? We identify with the thread of narrative that runs through these stories, which also often runs through our own lives.

Whenever I have a strong emotional response to a film, which was certainly true in the case of Twilight, I become very suspicious of that film. The female heart is so susceptible to manipulation, I must keep my guard up lest I find myself in the garden taking a big bite of something that Forked Tongue over there said would do me some good. There is definitely some heart string pulling in Twilight and if Maggie was old enough to watch it (or read it) I would want to have some long talks about what true love means. We see Bella wanting to give up the very essence of who she is, a human, in order to be with Edward. Certainly I have experienced to varying degrees that feminine tendency to lose perspective in my relationships, both romantic and otherwise. There is something seductive in the idea of submerging to the point of drowning. Ironically, as soon as we have finished plunging head first, we seem just as likely to deeply resent any call to submission and spend the rest of our lives trying to fight our way to the surface or get out of the pool all together.

Back to the point at hand, my head is still aswirl from trying to dissect this movie. Whatever it is selling, it has certainly inspired a great deal of head scratching on my part. Head scratching is a good thing, right? Despite our desire (or at least my annoyingly predominant desire) to categorize everything into neatly assigned species and subspecies, there is something to the postmodern idea of gray areas and ambiguity. In the end the most compelling part of the story isn’t the love story but Edward’s inner battle. Something in his struggle against his very nature resonates with my own grappling against the flesh. I have faith that in the end, the monster won’t win out and that all will be made as it should be, including my heart. But there are many days when it feels as though the beast in me has been unleashed, as Johnny Cash would say. All I can do is hold on tight and hold out for dawn. I suppose we all have hearts that are living in the twilight, waiting for the dawn.

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Lagidorp’s Playbook

By Jim Spiegel

There once was a football player named Lagidorp who deeply loved his team’s playbook.  He not only studied it diligently but encouraged his teammates to do the same.  Lagidorp—or “Lag,” as he came to be called—was a running back, and his many duties included blocking and short receiving routes as well as carrying the ball.  His first year with the team, Lag worked enthusiastically to fulfill his responsibilities.  But during his second year, the difficulty of some aspects of his job began to get to him.  While he loved carrying the ball, he found route running to be tiresome and blocking for the quarterback to be downright unpleasant.  “Why should I be stuck with picking up defenders that get past our offensive line?” he thought to himself.  “I’m a running back, not a blocker.”  Soon Lag found that some of his teammates had misgivings of their own about the duties laid out for them in the playbook.  And they would sometimes share their criticisms with one another.  So Lag’s love for the playbook waned, as did his respect for Coach, who devised the playbook.  Whereas earlier in his career Lag could trust Coach about the demands the playbook placed on him, now he found it very difficult to do so.

Eventually, Lag decided to ignore or de-emphasize some of the more demanding or “unreasonable” plays—those which required him to block for the quarterback.  “This is just too ‘old school,'” he would say.  “Today everyone should know that running backs shouldn’t have to block huge defensive lineman.”  Predictably, however, Lag’s approach resulted in some quarterback sacks, including one that cost his team a game and another that injured the quarterback.  Naturally, several teammates and assistant coaches chided Lag for his poor play.  While he  publicly acknowledged his mistakes, Lag privately resented their “arrogance” in correcting him.

As time went on, Lag found others outside the organization who shared his resentment toward his coaching staff, teammates, and especially Coach, for their unreasonable expectations.  Lag would often consider ways the playbook could be improved and how, if he were Coach, he would do things very differently.  By the end of his fourth year Lag had had enough, and he quit the team.  The last straw came when several teammates confronted him about his refusal to “play by the book.”  “You guys are part of the problem,” he told them.  “If you want to blame me for thinking for myself, then so be it.”

So Lagidorp joined another team—a team in a different kind of league where players wrote their own playbooks.  By some strange coincidence, though, all of the players’ playbooks ended up looking very much the same in this league—with very few responsibilities for helping teammates and where most plays emphasized “doing what comes naturally on the field.”  However, while the players claimed to enjoy this freedom, they did not improve as players but deteriorated in their skills.  Nor did they work well as teammates—if you could call them such—especially since they had no Coach.

There were also many more injuries in this alternative league.  This did not bother Lag much at first, but as the casualties mounted, he began to recognize that something was wrong.  Still he continued to play for his new team—until he had an injury of his own.  In the middle of his second season on the new team, Lag blew out his knee.  The injury called for reconstructive surgery, which meant a long rehabilitation.  During this time away from the game, Lag reflected on the previous five years.  He realized how foolish he had been in questioning his Coach and the playbook.  He also saw how unfair he had been to his teammates who, for all their flaws, were really doing the right thing in admonishing him. 

So as Lag did his rehab he resolved to return to his original team.  He contacted one of his former teammates, who was thrilled to hear this.  Eventually, Lag humbly approached Coach, apologizing for his irresponsible behavior and asking if he could try out for the team again.  “I was very foolish in the way I behaved,” he said.  “I’m ready to be a good teammate and play by the book.  In fact, at this point, I think I’d rather be a water boy than play in that other league.”  Coach forgave him, saying “We’d love to have you back on the team, assuming you really are ready to do all of the work.  It’s too bad it took an injury to get you to see the light.  But, in the end, you’ll probably be better for it.”

So Lagidorp tried out for his former team and made it back on the roster.  This time he didn’t seek the limelight, but he played a crucial role on the team and was especially pleased to block for his quarterback.  “Anything to help the team,” he would often say—and not just in public but even privately to himself.

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Snapshots

By Amy Spiegel

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

200px-gran_torino_posterGran Torino — I can’t remember the last time I saw a film I liked as much as I like Gran Torino which was surprising to me. I was pretty sure it would be well done but I had braced myself for the racially charged theme and overall dark atmosphere that often accompanies a Clint Eastwood movie. Though the film was by no means a tip-toe- through-the-tulips kind of experience, it felt a lot like life—ordinary days made up of seemingly ordinary moments punctuated by life-changing moments of drama. I must admit to having a bit of a crush on Eastwood’s character, Walt Kowalski, despite his crusty outer shell. I could even tolerate the less than heroic token Christian. If you have an above average tolerance for bad language, this is a must-see.

200px-henry_poole_is_hereHenry Poole Is Here — It was a slow night at the Spiegel household and I thought I would check out this Luke Wilson flick. I really didn’t have any expectations for a dark comedy about the face of Jesus appearing on the side of a suicidal man’s house. I am not sure that the filmmakers themselves knew exactly what they wanted to convey or, if they did, they weren’t entirely successful at conveying their message. I appreciated their openness to the supernatural but hated that they couldn’t bring themselves to draw conclusions or make a more explicit statement about faith. Still, good performances and an uplifting theme make it a great slow night movie.

200px-reader_ver2The Reader — Okay, I don’t care if she played a great Elinor Dashwood (Sense and Sensibilty) or not, Kate Winslet is no longer invited to my first slumber party in heaven. (This is a game I play with myself when feeling like all my heroes predate me by a couple hundred years. I imagine sitting around eating cheese puffs and drinking beer with Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen and Elizabeth Gaskell. Sad, but true.) Jim tells me this story represents nihilism, the complete meaninglessness of human history. It was maddening because since there is no meaning, there can be no villains, no heroes, no redemption—something this movie greatly needed. Winslet is a talented actress who delivers a stellar performance (most of which she gives in some state of undress), but nothing could redeem this film’s harsh take on the choices we make.

Mentionables: Children of Heaven — I don’t know how they make films in Iran but I loved the first eighty-two minutes of this movie and hated the last minute. If only I could wave my magic movie wand and change it to suit, this would be an all-time favorite).   I Capture the Castle — Still thinking about this one but I am a sucker for period clothing and a great British Isles setting.  The Proposal — Pure fluff, but one of the funniest romantic comedies to come down the pike in quite a while.

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Hodgepodge

By Jim Spiegel

We just returned from our family vacation down South.  There and back, amidst the chaos that is our family life, Amy and I had some good conversations about art, culture, and theology.  We also talked a bit about film, and if our discussions are any indication, you’ll definitely enjoy her next installment of Snapshots.  Until then, here are some assorted thoughts of my own on random topics:

1. Counting the Cost—I recently heard that the interest on the last stimulus package is costing us (you, me, and other American taxpayers) $100,000,000 per day (assuming a 5% interest rate).  That’s right—one hundred million bucks every day.  That wouldn’t hurt so bad if it appeared the stimulus package was doing some good.  Supporters caution against pessimism at this stage, since less than 10% of the stimulus money has actually been spent.  But then why are members of Obama’s economic advisory team talking about the possibility of yet another stimulus package totaling hundreds of billions of dollars?  Five months into this mess, I am even more firmly convinced of Veronique de Rugy’s simple but insightful analysis.

2. Prehistoric?—When my son asked me the other day if a particular animal about which he was reading was “prehistoric,” it suddenly struck me what an anthropocentric word that is.  Since God knows (and is the author of) all of human history, something cannot be pre-historic in any ultimate sense but only relative to human knowledge of historical events.  So it is more accurate to say, as some folks do, that an event occurred before recorded history.  Splitting hairs?  Dwelling on the obvious?  Perhaps, but it’s still a good reminder of the eternal expanse of providence.

3. Robert McNamara, R.I.P.— The passing of Robert McNamara last week reminded me how deep an impact on world history one man can have, even when that individual is not a head of state.  McNamara served as defense secretary in the Kennedy and Johnson cabinets, and he was President of the World Bank for 13 years.  In addition to being the mastermind behind U.S. involvement in Vietnam, he is essentially the father of public policy systems analysis.  For a fascinating documentary on the former, check out The Fog of War.

4. Hail to the Kings of Leon—Lately I’ve been exploring the musical riches of Kings of Leon.  This foursome from Nashville Tennessee is comprised of three brothers and a cousin, all bearing the surname Followill—which, for my money, would be an even better name for the band, but I digress.  Their music is cleverly crafted, fully of melodies and energy, sometimes brooding, sometimes funny, but always good.  For a quick taste, check out this video of their song “King of the Rodeo“—2.5 minutes of rock n’ roll bliss (and a rather tastefully erotic video narrative—if only more video directors could be so creative and restrained).

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Over the River and Through the Woods

By Amy Spiegel

Our family is currently enjoying a visit with my mother-in-law, which, despite the stereotypical assumptions regarding such visits, is something I look forward to. This visit, while greatly anticipated by us all, does come at a cost—a long and desolate drive in the South over land so monotonous and dull that it makes Indiana look topographically diverse. We have made this journey many times, yet each time it seems to catch us all off guard. We forget how long it is (14 hours on a good day); we forget how boring it is (really boring); we forget how cranky we all get (really, really cranky). At about the four hour mark, when we have spotted every variety of truck known to man, managed to eat our allotted snacks for the day, and managed to spend more time in truck stop bathrooms than on the interstate, it all comes rushing back to us like a semi with no breaks on a steep grade. Just when we think we simply cannot stand to be on the road a minute longer, we arrive—to the smiles and greetings of my dear mother-in-law and her obese but lovable dog.

Today, somewhere in Georgibama, I began searching for any metaphorical significance to our trek. After all, if I can’t enjoy the trip, I might as well get some good blog material out of it. So here are a few random, though hopefully not entirely contrived, parallels that came to mind.

Most road trips start out as rather happy occasions. One thinks much more of the destination than the process of getting there. Sure, you have mentally acknowledged the distance from point A to point B, but on a map nothing looks that far. It is impossible to imagine mile after mile without doing a bit of condensing. Besides, a map can only represent the mileage. MapQuest is shamelessly optimistic when it comes to traffic jams, flat tires, bathroom breaks, and dead batteries. So it is in the life of faith. I have yet to hear the testimony which begins “Well, I decided to become a Christian because, golly, the whole pick-up-your-cross-daily bit just seemed like it would be more fun than a barrel of monkeys.” Of course, we think we know what we are getting into, but then we thought we knew everything about marriage and raising kids, too. Man, are we stupid. Despite the fact that the cost is always greater and more painful, we seem to suffer from severe short term memory loss like a slightly more comical version of Guy Pierce in Memento only with fewer tattoos and less homicidal. “Sure, I’ll serve on that church committee. What could be better than hanging out with a bunch of fellow believers, week after week, trying to tease out the meaning of ‘baptism’?” “Sure, I’ll commit to mentoring that college student. When I’m not hanging out with my church committee friends, I love nothing more than talking to someone who has her entire life figured out and doesn’t hear a single word I say.”

So is this road trip optimism a character flaw of the Christian or does it somehow serve a higher purpose? Perhaps in some instances, it is our pride telling us that we have grown and matured and we’re ready to conquer this stretch of highway. But maybe it is also a blessing in disguise. If we did remember all the prior bumps and detours, how many of us would set out to begin with? So much is accomplished by simply beginning. Growth follows obedience and, fortunately for us, we aren’t required to know the full cost of our obedience beforehand.

The other thing that struck me as we thankfully pulled into the familiar driveway, weary but happy, was that we always arrive at our final destination. Maybe not when we thought we would or smelling like we had hoped, but we get here. I have yet to hear of the family that started out for grandma’s house and never got there. So too with us. Things may not go according to our plan but there is a plan and we will get where we are supposed to go. The cross has already been carried on our behalf and when we consider the journey taken to see it and ourselves delivered, our road seems much easier and our burden light. Unlike our road trips which mess up our hair and trash our cars, the trials of faith we face are shaping us for our destination. All we have to do is get in the car, buckle up for the ride and follow the directions we have been given. It may not be easy but it’s simple.  And frankly I wouldn’t want to be headed anywhere else, even Grandma’s house (but don’t tell her or the obese dog I said so).