And in other news today, a herd of American Guinea Hogs has been spotted looping the loop over Manhattan; a large, pregnant female yeti has been captured alive in the Himalayas; and Lance Armstrong has confessed to ingesting more drugs during the three weeks of his last Tour De France win than did Keith Richards, Hunter S Thompson and Whitney Houston, period. Oh, and Elvis Presley has been spotted working in a fish and chip shop in Boise, Idaho.
Well it’s been a little while since we’ve shone the spotlight of reason into the stygian logic-free catacomb that is Calvinism – in particular the Calvinist doctrine of predestination as espoused by “’Pastor’” Mark Driscoll. But when I stumbled, as you do, across this little gem on “’the Pastor’s’” website recently, it got me thinking.
Cue sound of large knives being sharpened.
As usual, “’the Pastor’” is off to a bad start. Because the healing at the pool in Bethesda in John 5 is a rubbish, an entirely inappropriate analogy for the foul – what Dr Thomas Talbott has called the diabolical – doctrine of predestination.
For a start, the main point of this story is clearly to do with Jesus giving the Pharisees one in the eye by healing on the Sabbath. Secondly, we are not told that Jesus didn’t heal anybody else at the pool that day. Nor are we told that he didn’t come by some other time and heal some, maybe even all, the other sick people present that day. (After all, Calvinists maintain that while you are ‘elect’ from before the dawn of time, you don’t get regenerated and converted until God sees fit to effect that change at a certain point in your earthly life. Hopefully, like Augustine, it won’t be until you’ve had a chance to bed all the good-looking women or men in your purview. )
But let’s be generous and assume that Jesus never did heal anybody else who was present that day. What possible relevance has this to the eternal fate of unbelievers? Healing a sick person of a temporary illness on earth is in no way analogous to saving that person from eternal conscious torment in hell. I don’t know about you, but I’d cheerfully endure being paralysed during my earthly life if it meant that I would get to spend all eternity in the blissful presence of God after I kicked the bucket. (Well, maybe not that cheerfully, but you get my drift.)
This piece of duplicitous hermeneutical skulduggery has echoes of the Calvinist claptrap about God’s ‘common grace’ and his ‘love’ for reprobate sinners. You know how it goes. God sends the sun and the rain down on sinners, just the same as he does on saints, thereby lavishing undeserved blessings on them in their earthly lives. Well, leaving aside for a moment the obvious objection that plenty of ‘sinners’ get to live lives of largely unmitigated pain, suffering and misery, the fact that God pulls the rug out from under them the moment they snuff it renders those few short years of ‘blessing’ utterly redundant. Hey folks, God loves you so much that he’ll give you a sniff – in effect, a bare nanosecond’s, a picosecond’s, a yoctosecond’s (no, I’d never heard of it either) worth – of some of the good things in life, if you’re lucky, only to whip them away again when you die. Forever.
Thanks God, you’re all heart.
Any road up. “The truth,” says Mark (and you know the truth, don’t you Mark?) “is that God could save everyone just as he could have healed everyone. Yet, because God is obligated to no one, the fact that he heals or saves anyone is a gracious gift.”
Sorry mate, I’m not buying that. Won’t wash Wilfred. “God is obligated to no one,” you say? Really? God has zero obligations, nothing that he ought to do, nothing that he is bound or constrained to do – given his essential attributes of love, justice, holiness, omniscience etc?
Let’s try that out, shall we? Given his omniscience, can God believe something that isn’t true, or not know something that it is possible for him to know? Surely not. Surely that is a logical impossibility, for if either or those things were true, God wouldn’t be omniscient. Hence he wouldn’t, by any normal definition, be God.
In the same way, given that God – so Christians believe – is the very source of morality itself, the ultimate standard from which we derive all our notions of good and bad, right and wrong, is he free to act contrary to his own intrinsic moral ‘standards’? In other words, can he do something which, by his own standards, is ‘immoral’? I am not a logician, but to me it would be logically contradictory to say that he can.
Neither, I would contend, using the same reasoning, can God ordain a ‘standard’ of morality for us, his creatures, that is substantively different from his. He cannot ordain that it is ‘right’ or ‘good’ for us to behave in a certain way and then behave in a different – indeed diametrically opposite – way himself. Not being a logician, I can’t offer a definitive logical proof for this. But it seems, as Basil Fawlty was fond of saying, to be bleedin’ obvious. If it is possible for God to command us to do one thing and then do another thing himself; if it’s okay for God to do something that if done by a human being would be condemned as cruel, vindictive or unloving; if what we call white is, by God’s standards, actually black – well, we would be in something of a pickle, would we not?
So, in the light of all this, let us return to MD’s assertion that “God is obligated to no one”. In fact, let’s use an analogy to explore the truth, or otherwise, of that assertion – a scriptural analogy. God is our Father in heaven. That’s what the Bible tells us. That’s what Jesus told us. Over and over again this metaphor is used in scripture – that God is a loving parent. Only being God, he must by definition be more loving, more merciful, more everything than any earthly parent could ever hope to be.
So, God is the best Dad ever, the top of the pops, the ne plus ultra of parenthood. That’s a fact, that’s nailed on. That means that he couldn’t, ever, do anything any truly loving human parent wouldn’t do. Now, would a loving human parent wash their hands of their offspring? Would a loving human parent abandon their beloved John or Jane, just because they screwed up somewhere along the line? Would a loving human parent let their child die if there was anything, anything at all they could do to save them?
I hear a resounding chorus of ‘no way Jose’!
But wait. It gets worse.
Would a loving parent with, say, four kids – let’s call ‘em John, Jane, Jack and Jill – decide, before any of those four kids were born, that they were going to love Jane with all their strength, all their heart, lavish untold blessings and kindnesses on her, but effectively abandon John, Jack and Jill at birth?
There they all are, our little family, sitting down to dinner. Jane gets a slap-up five-course meal washed down with the finest lemonade money can buy. But her siblings get nothing. Nada. Let the little bastards starve. They deserve it. They’re evil. Wicked through and through. Sin and hatred and rebellion run through their veins like black blood, infecting every single square inch of their vile little bodies. Never mind that they are the product of their loving parents, inheritors of their genes. Never mind that they are made ‘in the image’ of their loving Mum and Dad. They’re filth. They are good for nothing except to be thrown onto a bonfire and burned.
Of course, the same is true of the beloved Jane. She too is a filthy sinful little beetle, a sinful little beetle who deserves nothing more than to be crushed underfoot like, well, a beetle. Only our loving parents have decided, for reasons they do not care to disclose, to treat her like a princess. They have chosen to overlook all her manifold and manifest horriblenesses and give her the red carpet treatment, five star luxury love and affection.
Is this the sort of behaviour we would expect from a truly loving mother and father? Is this behaviour we would condone in a parent? Or is it behaviour we would condemn as cruel, as wicked in the extreme? Behaviour which would make any parent who practised it a moral monster?
You don’t need to answer that, for we all – instantly, innately – know what the answer is.
But my friends, that is precisely the way the God Mark Driscoll believes in behaves. That is the “great, loving, compassionate, merciful God” God of Calvinism. And so, with Thomas Talbott and John Stuart Mill, I stand up and affirm with all the heart and soul the true God gave me that “I will not worship such a God, and if such a God can send me to hell for not so worshiping him, then to hell I will go”. Indeed, if such a God extended to me Mark Driscoll’s “gracious gift” of salvation I would hand it straight back and take my place with the reprobates. At least then I wouldn’t have to listen to any more of the Pastor’s sermons!
Here endeth the rant. For now.
Peace and love to all (and that includes you “”""""""""“Pastor”""""""""" Mark )
Johnny