The Seed that Changed the World

 

A sermon delivered to the City Park Church of Christ
12th Sunday after Pentecost
July 30, 2017

TEXTS:
1 Kings 3:5-12
Ps. 119:129-136
Romans 8:26-39
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

 

“He put before them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.'” (Mat. 13:31-32).

Our humble God did not gain his humility with the advent of Christ.  The God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit has always worked in small beginnings.  He decided that his dominion of the world should be shared with Man and Woman.  He called an unknown man from the east and made him the father of many nations.  He chose the barren to give birth to a chosen people.  He chose a small people to give birth to a Savior.  He chose a manger to give birth to a King.  And he chose a mustard seed to grow tall and play host to birds and their nests.  Such is the kingdom of heaven in the person of Jesus Christ.

The same God that did all this is the same God we serve today.  The history of the church follows in the footsteps of its crucified Christ.  Its small beginnings, with a despised carpenter from Nazareth, have quite literally shaped the world.  It did not keep its blessings to itself.  It has grown large and played hosts to civilizations and cultures.  The same God which accomplished all this can accomplish the same great things in us.  But what great things has this tiny church accomplished empowered by the kingdom of heaven?

Hospitals
Medicine has been studied for a long time.  Hippocrates, born in the fifth century B.C., is often considered the father of modern medicine.  Doctors, however, were for the wealthy.  There were some medical facilities in Rome, but they were primarily for soldiers and gladiators.  The mother of our modern hospitals was not established until the fourth century A.D. by St. Basil of Caesarea.  Moved by his faith he established an enormous complex, a “new city”, for “the care of friendless strangers, the medical treatment of the sick poor, and the industrial training of the unskilled.”1 By the middle of the 16th century there were “37,000 Benedictine monasteries alone that cared for the sick.”2 This close association with Christianity is the reason for the emblem of the Red Cross as well as such names as St. Jude’s, St. Luke’s, and our own Covenant Medical Center in Lubbock.3 Other kinds of medical care such as Hospice, established by Anglican Cicely Saunders, and the L’Arche communities of Jean Vanier were likewise inspired by a commitment to Jesus Christ and his care for “the least of these.”  Could you imagine a world without hospitals? If you can, you will then see the difference the kingdom of heaven makes out of its small beginnings.

Public Education
Public education is almost brand new in terms of world history.  It also has Christianity to thank for it establishment.  Prior to public education there was no law which required parents to educate their children.  As such, many went without any education at all.  Those which were educated were either taught by their parents or by those who were wealthy enough to hire a tutor.  This all began to change with The Massachusetts Bay School Law of 1642.

Plymouth, Massachusetts was established in 1620 and became the second successful North American colony (after Jamestown, Virginia in 1607).  It was established by Puritans who sought to separate themselves from the State Church of England.   Literacy was exceptionally important for them.  They thought that you needed to be able to read and understand the laws of the land in order to make good citizens.  They also believed that you should be able to read the Bible in order to make good people.  Suddenly, there was an influx of new settlers who did not share their commitment to literacy.  They worried that perhaps their way of life might be endangered.  So, they passed The Massachusetts Bay School Law.  It says:

“Forasmuch as the good education of children is of singular behoof and benefit to any Common-wealth; and wheras many parents & masters are too indulgent and negligent of their duty in that kinde. It is therfore ordered that the Select men of everie town, in the severall precincts and quarters where they dwell, shall have a vigilant eye over their brethren & neighbours, to see, first that none of them shall suffer so much barbarism in any of their families as not to indeavour to teach by themselves or others, their children & apprentices so much learning as may inable them perfectly to read the english tongue, & knowledge of the Capital Lawes: upon penaltie of twentie shillings for each neglect therin. Also that all masters of families doe once a week (at the least) catechize their children and servants in the grounds & principles of Religion, & if any be unable to doe so much: that then at the least they procure such children or apprentices to learn some short orthodox catechism without book, that they may be able to answer unto the questions that shall be propounded to them out of such catechism by their parents or masters or any of the Select men when they shall call them to a tryall of what they have learned of this kinde.”4

Note their two reasons for insisting upon learning to read: that they may learn the laws of the land and that they may learn Christian orthodoxy. A difficulty soon arose with the law. They may impose a fine for those who do not educate their children but what are those to do who are not themselves educated enough to teach their children or rich enough to pay someone else to do it? This led to The Old Deluder Act of 1647. It states:

“It being one chief project of that old deluder, Satan, to keep men from the knowledge of the Scriptures, as in former times by keeping them in an unknown tongue, so in these latter times by persuading from the use of tongues, that so that at least the true sense and meaning of the original might be clouded and corrupted with false glosses of saint-seeming deceivers; and to the end that learning may not be buried in the grave of our forefathers, in church and commonwealth, the Lord assisting our endeavors.

It is therefore ordered that every township in this jurisdiction, after the Lord hath increased them to fifty households shall forthwith appoint one within their town to teach all such children as shall resort to him to write and read, whose wages shall be paid either by the parents or masters of such children, or by the inhabitants in general, by way of supply, as the major part of those that order the prudentials of the town shall appoint; provided those that send their children be not oppressed by paying much more than they can have them taught for in other towns.”5

So the city required one school teacher for all children per fifty households. Again, their motives were religious. They saw public education as a way to combat “that old deluder, Satan.” His job, they said, was “to keep men from the knowledge of the Scriptures” and saw whatever would enable men and women to read the Bible would be war against him. It was not long before surrounding areas began to pass similar laws. The Deluder Act goes on to require the establishment of a grammar school per one hundred households in order to prepare students for college.  Our first colleges, over a hundred of them, were established as seminaries.  The Christian influence in education is undeniable.  Can you imagine a world without public education? If you can then you will begin to grasp what difference the kingdom of heaven makes out of beginnings like that of a mustard seed.

The Church
The Church itself had the humblest of beginnings.  Its cornerstone is, of course, Jesus built upon by his closest disciples, the apostles.  They were a rag-tag group of men. They were fishermen, tax-collectors, and rebels.  Two of these, Peter and John, were recognized as “uneducated and ordinary men” by their opponents.  Yet their boldness made it clear that they had been with Jesus (Acts 4:13).  Paul had the most learning of the apostles and yet he did not depend upon it.  Rather, he preached “the foolishness of the cross” (1 Cor. 1:18-21; 2:1-5).  Still, it was Christ in him that “turned the world upside down” (Acts 17:6).  This community, at first as small as a mustard seed, grew so large so as to be scattered throughout the known world.  And like that great tree became a home to the birds of the air, so the church shared its blessings with the world.  They were and we are a people who believe, fundamentally, that “it is better to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

Jesus
It was in Jesus that the kingdom of heaven arrived.  As he stepped onto the scene of history he announced, “The kingdom of God is at hand” (Mark 1:15).  But even Jesus’ beginnings are small and despised, like that of a mustard seed.  “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” was the question asked of him (Jn. 1:46).  Just after he told these parables the people were impressed, partly because of his despised beginnings.  They marveled, “Is not this the carpenter’s son?” (Mat. 13:55).  None of this mattered.  His lowly birth, his unworthy neighborhood, his working class family, none of it stopped him from changing the world.  He built a house which all can call their home.  The church he built spans centuries, countries, and cultures.  Billions of people have made their homes in the tree which sprung from the seed of his body.  This is the God of the Bible, the God who brings order from confusion, a great tree from a small seed, even life out of death.  This is the God who raised Jesus from the dead.

The Change in You
The tiny seeds which change the world are being sown today.  Their symbols remain in the church.  Only God can take water and birth a new family from all nations, tribes, and tongues.  Only God can take the singular meal of the Supper, the common bread and wine, and feed billions across millennia.  Only God can speak a word and change a life.  Baptism, the Supper, the preaching of the Gospel are all humble simple things, but they make the home that we inhabit.  And should this surprise us?  Jesus has made the world.  Yes, the sun, moon, and stars, but also the hospitals and the schools.  The branches which began in the mustard seed continue to grow.  Christ continues to bless the world through the church.  He changed the world forever, in amazing ways.  If he can establish the foundations of the universe, if he can build hospitals and schools, don’t you think he can do great things in you?  Those great things need not start off great.  It need only be as big as a mustard seed.  A marriage can be saved by something so small as the commitment to tell the truth.  A community can be revitalized by your signature on a petition to establish a food bank.  A soul can be saved because you took the time to listen to a person’s grieving.  A life can be put back together just because you decided to read the gospel for yourself.  Christ brought the kingdom of heaven to earth.  It began as a seed.  Today its branches provide homes for millions of homeless.  Make Christ your home today.

 

©M. Benfield 2017


1. The Catholic Encylopedia, “St. Basil the Great.” Available: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02330b.htm ; Accessed 29 July, 2017.
2. “The Christian Origins of Hospitals.” Available: https://biblemesh.com/blog/the-christian-origins-of-hospitals/ ; Accessed 29 July, 2017.
3. Ibid.
4. “Massachusetts Bay School Law (1642).” Available: http://www.constitution.org/primarysources/schoollaw1642.html ; Accessed 29 July, 2017.
5. “The Old Deluder Act (1647).” Available: http://www.constitution.org/primarysources/deluder.html ; Accessed 29 July, 2017.

The Call of Christ

 

 

A sermon delivered to the City Park Church of Christ
10th Sunday after Pentecost
July 16, 2017

TEXTS:
Isaiah 55:10-13
Psalm 65:(1-8), 9-13
Romans 8:1-11
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

The Call of Christ
The word from the Gospel is often co-opted by preacher’s to describe their work.  While we may do so by analogy the problem I have with such a comparison is that it circumvents the Christ.  He is the sower of the seed (cf. 13:37).  Jesus is and must be central to the exegesis of both Testaments.  We cannot go around him.  Because he is the sower of the seed, any preaching of the gospel must be an encounter with the living Christ, not an abstract idea which we label “Jesus.”  This changes the way that we read the words of Jesus, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer well knew.  He writes,

“Discipleship means adherence to Christ, and, because Christ is the object of that adherence, it must take the form of discipleship.  An abstract Christology, a doctrinal system, a general religious knowledge on the subject of grace or on the forgiveness of sins, render discipleship superfluous, and in fact they positively exclude any idea of discipleship whatever, and are essentially inimical to the whole conception of following Christ.”1

If our only encounter with Jesus is as a static idea then we may easily find our way “out of it.” We may say,

“‘It is true that the demand of Jesus is definite enough, but I have to remember that he never expects us to take his commands legalistically. What he really wants me to have is faith. But my faith is not necessarily tied up with riches or poverty or anything of the kind. We may be both poor and rich in the spirit. It is not important that I should have no possessions, but if I do I must keep them as though I had them not, in other words I must cultivate a spirit of inward detachment, so that my heart is not in my possessions.’ Jesus may have said: ‘Sell thy goods,’ but he meant: ‘Do not let it be a matter of consequence to you that you have outward prosperity; rather keep your goods quietly, having them as if you had them not. Let not your heart be in your goods.’–We are excusing ourselves from single-minded obedience to the word of Jesus on the pretext of legalism and a supposed preference for an obedience ‘in faith.'”

This is how it might look if we related to Jesus as a mere idea. This is how it might look if we treated Christianity as if it were adherence to a system of doctrine instead of obedience to a person. But that option was not available to those who met Christ by the way, as he went about sowing the seed.

“The difference between ourselves and the rich man is that he was not allowed to solace his regrets by saying: ‘Never mind what Jesus says, I can still hold on to my riches, but in a spirit of inner detachment. Despite my inadequacy I can take comfort in the thought that God has forgiven me my sins and can have fellowship with Christ in faith.’ But no, he went away sorrowful. Because he would not obey, he could not believe … But we in our sophistry differ altogether from the hearers of Jesus’ word of whom the Bible speaks. If Jesus said to someone: ‘Leave all else behind and follow me; resign your profession, quit your family, your people, and the home of your fathers,’ then he knew that to this call there was only one answer–the answer of single-minded obedience, and that it is only to this obedience that the promise of fellowship with Jesus is given. But we should probably argue thus: ‘Of course we are meant to take the call of Jesus with ‘absolute seriousness,’ but after all the true way of obedience would be to continue all the more in our present occupations, to stay with our families, and serve him there in a spirit of inward detachment.’ If Jesus challenged us with the command: ‘Get out of it,’ we should take him to mean: ‘Stay where you are but cultivate that inward detachment.'”2

No, we do not follow Christ as if he were an idea. We do not adhere to Christianity as if it were a body of doctrine. We do not preach the gospel as if it were a creed to be merely recited. The Christ which met men in the dusty deserts of Galilee is the living Christ who meets each of us today and calls us to follow him. And so we must face his call because he faces us.

“With an abstract idea it is possible to enter into a relation of formal knowledge, to become enthusiastic about it, and perhaps even to put it into practice; but it can never be followed in personal obedience. Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship, and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ. It remains an abstract idea, a myth which has a place for the Fatherhood of God, but omits Christ as the living Son. And a Christianity of that kind is nothing more or less than the end of discipleship. In such a religion there is trust in God, but no following of Christ. Because the Son of God became Man, because he is the Mediator, for that reason alone the only true relation we can have with him is to follow him.”3

And so we find a living and resurrected Savior, not a dead and dying god. He is no idea. He is a man, just as you and I are men. As such, his call comes as definite and clear as my voice is to yours.

“When he was challenged by Jesus to accept a life of voluntary poverty, the rich young man knew he was faced with the simple alternative of obedience or disobedience. When Levi was called from the receipt of custom and Peter from his nets, there was no doubt that Jesus meant business. Both of them were to leave everything and follow. Again, when Peter was called to walk on the rolling sea, he had to get up and risk his life. Only one thing was required in each case–to rely on Christ’s word, and cling to it as offering greater security than all the securities in the world. The forces which tried to interpose themselves between the word of Jesus and the response of obedience were as formidable then as they are to-day [sic]. Reason and conscience, responsibility and piety all stood in the way, and even the law and ‘scriptural authority’ itself were obstacles which pretended to defend them from going to the extremes of antinomianism and ‘enthusiasms.’ But the call of Jesus made short work of all these barriers, and created obedience. That call was the Word of God himself, and all that it required was single-minded obedience.”4

What then do I mean? Do I mean that Jesus is calling you to leave your job as he called Matthew, Peter, James, and John? Maybe. Do I mean that Jesus is calling you to sell all that you have and give to the poor? Yes, maybe. Do I mean that Jesus is calling you to leave your family and to follow him wherever he bids you go? Yes, maybe. That is something that neither you nor I can determine. That is determined by Christ alone.

If we believe that the same Christ that met Peter and his brothers by the sea is the same Christ we worship, why should we think that he calls no one in similar fashion today? If we believe that the same Christ which met the rich young man is the same Christ which is alive today, why should we think that he calls no one to a similar destiny? Is there no one which needs to hear that call? If we believe that the same Christ which called men to leave father and mother is the same Christ which calls us today, why should we not believe that he issues the same call to some today?

No, it is not necessary for everyone to leave his occupation. No, it is not necessary for everyone to leave their families behind. And yes, it is possible to have riches and faith in Christ. But often this is only made possible by first giving them up, as Abraham received Isaac again only after he had sacrificed him to the LORD.

“[I]t is possible to have wealth and the possession of this world’s goods and to believe in Christ–so that a man may have these goods as one who has them not. But this is an ultimate possibility of the Christian life … It is by no means the first and the simplest possibility. The paradoxical understanding of the commandments has its Christian justification, but it must never lead to the abandoning of the single-minded understanding of the commandments. This is only possible and right for somebody who has already at some point or other in his life put into action his single-minded understanding, somebody who thus lives with Christ as his disciple and in anticipation of the end.”5

When we read the call of Matthew or the call of the rich young man, we should not assume that ours is the same call, but neither should we exclude it from possibility.

“Obedience to the call of Jesus never lies within our own power. If, for instance, we give away all our possessions, that act is not in itself the obedience he demands. In fact such a step might be the precise opposite of obedience to Jesus, for we might then be choosing a way of life for ourselves, some Christian ideal, or some ideal of Franciscan poverty. Indeed in the very act of giving away his goods a man can give allegiance to himself and to an ideal and not to the command of Jesus. He is not set free from his own self but still more enslaved to himself. The step into the situation where faith is possible is not an offer which we can make to Jesus, but always his gracious offer to us.”6

The point is simply this: each time the gospel is preached it is not a mere exchange of information, it is a meeting with the risen and living Lord.

“Jesus Christ is not dead, but alive and speaking to us to-day [sic] through the testimony of the Scriptures.  He comes to us to-day [sic], and is present with us in bodily form and in his word.  If we would hear his call to follow, we must listen where he is to be found, that is, in the Church through the ministry of Word and Sacrament.  The preaching of the Church and the administration of the sacraments is the place where Jesus Christ is present.  If you would hear the call of Jesus you need no personal revelation: all you have to do is to hear the sermon and receive the sacrament, that is, to hear the gospel of Christ crucified and risen.  Here he is, the same Christ whom the disciples encountered, the same Christ whole and entire.  Yes, here he is already, the glorified, victorious and living Lord.”7

It is that sort of encounter which Jesus is describing in the Parable of the Sower. The previous chapters of Matthew describe various responses to people’s encounters with Jesus; This parable is an explanation of those various responses. And so, this parable invites us to ask ourselves how we have responded and how we will respond when we meet him again.

The Seed Eaten by Birds
The first response to Christ is describe as that seed which fell along the path (13:4).  “Hear then the parable of the sower.  When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path” (13:18, 19).

The first response to Christ is pictured as puzzlement and confusion.  It is not because Christ is enigmatic or his call unclear.  Understanding is not only a matter of the intellect; It is a matter of the heart.  It takes moral training in order to understand holiness.  Even his own disciples often misunderstood what he said.  They did so because they still treasured in their hearts visions of power and conquest.  When victory means killing your enemies one cannot help but misunderstand when the conqueror predicts his own death (cf. Mark 9:9-10, 30-32; also Mat. 16:13-23).  And so it is that Satan is often at work in our hearts to make Jesus message unintelligible.  “The evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart.”

The Seed on Rocky Ground
“As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away” (13:20-21).

To “be rooted” is to be attached to Jesus for Jesus’ sake.  Those who have “no root” are those who have not attached themselves to a person but an idea, the very abstraction which I described at the beginning of this sermon.  An idea is completely within our control.  We may take it, leave it, or alter it whensoever we wish.  We may construct a Christ of our own liking.  If that abstraction brings with it any difficulty then we may discard it without harm and so we “immediately fall away.”  Only when we “root” ourselves in Jesus, in his living person, do we find root in anything of substance.  It is the strength of the living Christ which offers us the strength to endure persecution.

“Jesus hath many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but few bearers of His Cross.  He hath many seekers of comfort, but few of tribulation.  He findeth many companions of His table, but few of His fasting.  All desire to rejoice with Him, few are willing to undergo anything for His sake.  Many follow Jesus that they may eat of His loaves, but few that they may drink of the cup of His passion.  Many are astonished at His miracles, few follow after the shame of His Cross.  Many love Jesus so long as no adversities happen to them.  Many praise Him and bless Him, so long as they receive any comforts from Him.  But if Jesus hide Himself and withdraw from them a little while, they fall either into complaining or into too great dejection of mind.  But they who love Jesus for Jesus’ sake, and not for any consolation of their own, bless Him in all tribulation and anguish of heart as in the highest consolation.  And if He should never give them consolation, nevertheless they would always praise Him and always give Him thanks.  Oh what power hath the pure love of Jesus, unmixed with any gain or love of self!  Should not all they be called mercenary who are always seeking consolations?  Do they not prove themselves lovers of self more than of Christ who are always seeking their own gain and advantage?  Where shall be found one who is willing to serve God altogether for nought?”8

We may not idealize Christ or Christianity because it is not ideals that we love. It is not ideals that we worship. We follow of a living Lord. But we must not forget the resurrected Lord is the crucified Christ, and “it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master” (Mat. 10:25). To be rooted in Christ is to be destined for suffering but we “rely on Christ’s word, and cling to it as offering greater security than all the securities of the world.”9 Nothing else can sustain in time of trial.

The Seed Among Thorns
“As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing” (13:22).  Just as the ground cannot sustain both the wheat and the thorns, so no man can serve two masters (cf. Mat. 6:19-24).  The call of Christ is to leave everything behind and follow him.  As goes the proverb, “If Christ is not Lord of all he is not Lord at all.”  Unless my money is under the sovereignty of Christ, it is a danger to me.  Unless I do my work as unto the Lord with faith in his provision, it is harmful to my spirit.  Unless I enjoy my pleasures as a grace from God, they erode my soul.  Unless I receive each meal as a gift from him who gives all good things, I eat to my own damnation.  My heart has room for only one master and Christ lays claim to its throne.  In order to place another upon his seat I must insist that Jesus move over.  And if I do I am assured that I will “yield nothing” (13:22).

The Seed on Good Ground
“But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty” (13:23).  Christ calls us all individually.  Just as the decision whether to sell our possessions, or leave our occupation, or leave behind our family is dependent upon the call of Christ, so is our own productivity.  God gives the increase.  It is not for everyone to lead myriads to Christ and we should not pridefully insist upon being greater than our call.  If we have answered the call at all we have answered the call which Christ has given to us and that is our satisfaction.  “In other words, disciples do not come in only one size or type, and there is room in the kingdom of God for the ordinary as well as for the spectacular.”10

Tilling the Soil
Jesus tell us what makes the difference in the soils. When he describes those whom we are understand as bad soil he says of them,

“With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says: ‘You will indeed listen, but never understand, and you will indeed look, but never perceive. For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes; so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn–and I would heal them.'” (13:14, 15).

Adopting the language of the psalms to describe idol worshipers, Jesus describes those who become like the idols they worship. Those who reject Christ do so because they are idolators. When a man meets Jesus he receives the call to come follow him. That call constitutes the call to forfeit his idols and worship Jesus as the one and only true God. It is a man’s unwillingness to part with his idols which results in the rejection of Christ.

This is informative because by contrast it also indicates to us the way in which we may prepare our hearts to receive Christ and hear his call–we worship him.

“To the question–where to-day [sic] do we hear the call of Jesus to discipleship, there is no other answer than this: Hear the Word, receive the Sacrament; in it hear him himself, and you will hear his call.”11

This is why the liturgy of so many Christian traditions all lead up to the Lord’s Supper, as I could wish we did here. There we meet Christ. There we hear his call, over and over again. At the celebration of the Eucharist in The Book of Common Prayer the celebrant offers you the Supper and then commissions you to enter the world on behalf of Christ. They may say, “Let us go forth in the name of Christ” or “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”12 In the Catholic tradition it is so called “Mass” from the Latin “Missa” because it is the past participle of the verb “to send.”13 We come to be sent. We come to hear the call. Having heard the Word and received the Supper, you have been called by Jesus himself.  Will you answer the call of Christ?

 

©M. Benfield 2017


1. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, (New York: Touchstone, 1995), 59.
2. Ibid, 80-81.
3. Ibid, 59.
4. Ibid, 79.
5. Ibid, 82.
6. Ibid, 84-85.
7. Ibid, 225-226.
8. Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Trans. Rev. William Benham, (Einstein Books), “Of the Fewness of Those Who Love the Cross of Jesus”, II.11.1-3, pp. 42-43.
9. Bonhoeffer, 79.
10. R.T France, New Bible Commentary, 21st Century Edition, Ed. Wenham, Motyer, Carson, and France, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2010), 921.
11. Bonhoeffer, 228.
12. The Book of Common Prayer According to the Use of the Episcopal Church, (New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2007), “The Holy Eucharist: Rite One”, 339-340.
13. “Mass”, Dictionary.com. Available at: http://www.dictionary.com/browse/mass?s=t ; Accessed 15 July, 2017.

The No-True-God Fallacy: A Blind Man’s Confession

 

 

Having reviewed my own work in the previous article about who God is and what sort of God he is, I realize that it is an easy article to contest.  One might easily say that I have committed the No-True-Scotsman fallacy.  This fallacy is an after-the-fact attempt to rescue an argument from refutation.  It is so called the No-True-Scotsman fallacy for the illustrations that are often used to explain it.

Smith:  All Scotsmen are loyal and brave.
Jones: But McDougal over there is a Scotsman, and he was arrested by his commanding officer for running from the enemy.
Smith: Well, if that’s right, it just shows that McDougal wasn’t a TRUE Scotsman.1

Or another form, which was my first introduction to the idea and still the one which first comes to mind, goes like this:

Person A: No Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge.
Person B: But my uncle Angus likes sugar with his porridge.
Person A: Ah yes, but not true Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge.2

One might say this is the sort of thing I have done.  I have asserted that God exists.  Then, when someone points out that there is suffering in the world, I simply respond by saying, “Ah yes, but the sort of God that is disproved thereby is not the God of the Bible.  The true God is not disproved by suffering.”  One might say that in the face of any evidence which would refute God I simply say, “The God you have refuted is not the true God.”  One might say that this is “simply a dogmatic refusal to face up to the possibility of being wrong.”3 Is this what I have done? Have I committed the No-True-God Fallacy?

Have I failed to make God intelligible?  What am I to do?  Should I recant all that I have said?  I find myself in the position of the blind man by the pool of Siloam.  And so, consider this a blind man’s confession.

The Unbelievers Who “Know” God, and the Believer Who Doesn’t
In John 9 Jesus and his disciples come across “a man blind from birth” (9:1).  Jesus “spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam’ (which means Sent).  then he went and washed and came back able to see” (9:6, 7).  It is undeniable that this man had been changed by Jesus, so much so that even those who knew him were not sure that he was the same person.  “The neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar began to ask, ‘Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?’  Some were saying, ‘It is he.”  Others were saying, ‘No, but it is someone like him.’  He kept saying, ‘I am the man.'” (9:8, 9).

The most interesting thing about the encounter is the man’s agnosticism.  Whenever he is asked for an explanation as to how he came to see all he can tell is what happened to him, but as to who Jesus is, where he came from, or how we was able to perform the miracle, he repeats over and over, “I don’t know.”  “But they kept asking him, ‘Then how were your eyes opened?’  He answered, ‘The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’  Then I went and washed and received my sight.’  They said to him, ‘Where is he?’  He said, ‘I do not know.'”

In contrast, those who refuse to acknowledge Jesus as Messiah are quite sure that they know what sort of man Jesus is.  “They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind.  Now it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes.  Then the Pharisees also began to ask him how he had received his sight.  He said to them, ‘He put mud on my eyes.  Then I washed, and now I see.’  Some of the Pharisees said ‘This man is not from God, for he does not observe the sabbath.'” (9:13-16a).  Whereas the healed man did not know where Jesus was, certain the Pharisees knew where he was not from.  They were certain that he was not from God.  Others, however, were more cautious.  “But others said, ‘How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?’  And they were divided.” (9:16b).

They turn to the formerly blind man and ask him again to explain the man who healed him.  This time he ventures beyond his agnostic position to say simply, “He is a prophet” (9:17).  The Jews who interrogated him were not even sure that the man was born blind or whether he was making it up.  After calling his parents to witness to the truth of the matter they turn again to the man and say, “Give glory to God!  We know that this man is a sinner” (9:24).  Again, those who reject Jesus are the one’s that make the strongest claims to know him.  They know that he is a sinner.  The blind man continues his cautious and agnostic approach about the nature of Jesus.  “He answered, ‘I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see'” (9:25).

After the blind man’s expulsion he has another encounter with Jesus.  “Jesus heard that they had driven him out, and when he found him, he said, ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?’  He answered, ‘And who is he, sir?  Tell me, so that I may believe in him.’  Jesus said to him, ‘You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.’  He said, ‘Lord, I believe.’  And he worshiped him” (9:35-38).  How ironic that it is the life-long blind man who “sees” Jesus (9:37).

As so often happens in scripture, Jesus explains his actions to those around him as a kind of enacted parable.  “Jesus said, ‘I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.’  Some of the Pharisees near him heard this and said to him, ‘Surely we are not blind, are we?’  Jesus said to them, ‘If you were blind, you would not have sin.  But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains.'” (9:39-41).  The blind man knew well that he was blind, not only physically but spiritually.  He did not presume to know who Jesus was, and thereby he was able to accept Jesus as coming from God.  It was this “blind” man who has his sins forgiven.  The mistake lies with those who were so sure that they could see, both physically and spiritually.  They “knew” who Jesus was and what sort of man he was.  It is that claim to knowledge that made them unable to accept Jesus.  It is because they said “We see” that their “sin remains” (9:41).

We Do Not Make God Intelligible, He Makes Us Intelligible
All those who are sure that they know what sort of God the God of the Bible is find themselves in the place of the Jews who opposed him.  They had read the Bible, they were sure that they “knew” what the Messiah would look like, how prophets would act, and what sort of God they served.  It was that “knowledge” of God which caused them to refuse Jesus.  As it turns out, the God they rejected was not the God they met in Jesus Christ.  So it is with so many unbelievers.  They have perhaps read the Bible and maybe even some philosophy.  They are then sure that they know what sort of God the Christian God is and that is the very thing which stops them from being able to accept him.

But if they are the Pharisees then that leaves me in the place of the blind man.  Often the best that I can do when asked about God is to say, “I don’t know.”  Still, given that it turned out well for the blind man, I don’t think that’s a bad place to be.  “Disputes between those who believe in God and those who do not often turn on the assumption by both parties that they know what they mean when they say ‘God.’  This seems unlikely, since Christians believe that we learn to use the word ‘God’ only through worship and prayer to the One we address as Father, Son, and Spirit.  Such a God is identified by a story that takes time, often a lifetime, to learn.”4 Because this is the case, it is likely misguided to try and defend God or explain him. Even believers are often not quite sure what to say about God.   And when they are “sure” they are often wrong.  But I think that is because God does not gain his intelligibility from us, rather we get ours from him. We do not explain him, he explains us. The blind man put it so well. “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see” (9:25). He could not make sense of who had healed him. But the only explanation for the blind man’s sight was that someone had healed him. He could not explain Jesus, but only Jesus could explain him. Hans Urs Von Balthasar says something about this dynamic when he says, “John’s designation of Christ as the Logos points to the fact that the evangelist envisions him as fulfilling the role of cosmic reason, in the Greeks’ and in Philo’s sense as that which grants all things their intelligibility.”5

The Church that Only God Could Make
Mortimer Adler once described his attempt at apologetics using the works of Thomas Aquinas.

“One year–in 1936, I believe–that seminar began with the ‘Treatise on God.’  I announced that I would not move a page beyond Question 2 until I had succeeded in persuading every member of the class that the existence of God could be demonstrated by one or another of the proofs advanced by Aquinas.  One by one they gave in, either from some measure of conviction or, more likely, from weariness and boredom with the protracted process; but one, Charles Adams, indomitably held out.  Finally, my professorial colleague, Malcolm Sharp, called a halt to the proceedings and suggested that, instead of sticking to my guns with Adams, I tell the class about the life and work of Aquinas.  I did so, stressing the shortness of his career as a teacher and writer (a little more than twenty years) in which, under the austerities of monastic life, with no libraries, typewriters, in ordinary-sized volumes, would occupy many shelves; and, I added, most of these works were filled with quotations from Sacred Scripture, from the philosophers of antiquity, from the Fathers of the Church, and from his immediate predecessors in the 11th and 12th centuries–all this without having the convenience of a well-stocked library or an adequate filing system.  When I had finished, Adams spoke up.  He rebuked me for not having started out by telling the class what I had just finished reporting.  ‘Why?’  I asked.  ‘Because,’ said Adams, ‘if you had told us all this about Aquinas, you would not have had to bother our minds with arguments about God’s existence.  Aquinas could not have done what he did without God’s help.”6

Whereas, for Adams, Aquinas had failed to make God intelligible, he was sure that only God could make Aquinas intelligible.  It may be that the church’s best apologetics is being the church.  Stanley Hauerwas tells of a woman who served as his priest for some time, “Susan would often begin her sermons by observing that she could not ‘think the church up.’  She could not imagine an Aldersgate, but God can and does.  What a wonderful way to put it.”7 Our response to the living Christ is not to explain him but to live lives which only he could explain. This is a hard call to answer because so often Christians have severed their theology from the way that they live. Christianity has become formal knowledge of a private creed instead of discipleship to a living Christ. “I have come to think that the challenge confronting Christians is not that we do not believe what we say, though that can be a problem, but that what we say we believe does not seem to make any difference for either the church or the world.”8

It is time for the church to be the church.  It could very well be it is our lives, not our arguments, which need conversion.  There is a story often told of G.K. Chesterton.  He was asked if there was any irrefutable argument for Christianity.  He said, “Yes. Christians.”  Immediately following he was asked if there was any really good argument against Christianity to which he answered, “Yes.  Christians.”

I may not be able to make God intelligible.  The church may not be able to make God intelligible.  But the church can be a body which only God makes intelligible.  Let’s get about being the church that only God could make.

 

©M. Benfield 2017

 


1. This example is taken from the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, available here: http://www.iep.utm.edu/fallacy/#NoTrueScotsman ; accessed 9 July, 2017. There it is noted that the No-True-Scotsman Fallacy is a different way of naming what is called an Ad Hoc Rescue.
2. This is the first form given on Wikipedia, available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_true_Scotsman ; accessed 9 July, 2017.
3. Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, “Ad Hoc Rescue.” Available at: http://www.iep.utm.edu/fallacy/#AdHoc Rescue ; accessed 7 July, 2017.
4. Stanley Hauerwas, Hannah’s Child: A Theologian’s Memoir, (Grand Rapids: Eerdsman, 2012), 236.
5. Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Love Alone is Credible, (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2004), 54.
6. Mortimer J. Adler, How to Think About God: A Guide for the 20th Century Pagan, (New York: Macmillan, 1980), 22-23.
7. Hauerwas, 222.
8. Ibid, 159.