New Thoughts (04/08/17-04/10/17)
Given the modern propensity for supposing science and religion to be utterly incompatible, it is well for us to settle certain points from the outset. What Paul is speaking of in terms of the wisdom of this age, the wisdom of the world, is not the hard science of mathematics, physics, medicine, or such like. Barnes points out what scientists of old well understood. “God is the friend of truth on all subjects; and he requires us to become acquainted with his works, and commends those who search them.” If, as is the case, all truth is God’s truth, then it would be a particularly incongruous thing to find God arguing against the facts uncovered by science. He may very well reject flawed research – indeed, He must. But, where science has properly understood the mechanics of the real world, there is no conflict with faith.
The issue that Paul is addressing here is not one of scientific endeavor, but rather one of false religion. To some degree, I suppose we must allow this to encompass the entire realm of philosophy, for how can one pursue Truth and not arrive at a set of religious beliefs? Even the atheist, for all his protestations to the contrary, has arrived at just such a set of religious beliefs. Pride leads us to promote false religion in the place of God’s sublime Truth. But, all such efforts must result in what Clarke describes as affected pretense of wisdom. How could it be otherwise? One’s wisdom either derives from and trends toward Truth, or it is but a pretense. However fine the arguments, however lofty the words by which one describes this philosophy or religion, it remains false. Let its followers be ever so devout and vehement in their defense of this falsity, and it changes not one thing.
This, I must say, seems to be the prevailing wind of error in our day and age. The general assumption has become that the louder the argument, the angrier the debater, the more valid the point. If you just yell enough to overcome any that might say otherwise, you must be right, right? Wrong. You’re just so much noise. You’re just vanity and wind, as Scripture puts it. What Shakespeare wrote of life in general, surely applies to these rage events. Their attempt at argument turns out to be ‘a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing’.
We have another term for such false religious systems. We speak of them as paganism. Some of these pagan systems go by what are deemed to be relatively respectable names, but it’s really no more than a matter of numbers. If you have enough adherents, and you are not Christianity, you are granted a degree of respect in pagan society. Thus, for all their benighted, medieval violence, Islam manages to have more respect in our hedonistic culture than Christ. And, as for Hindu and Buddhist religions, these have a certain panache, given their faintly mystical aspects. I think this same thing is at play with those who find a certain attraction to Eastern Orthodox and Catholic practices. There’s something just a bit more mystical and spirity about their practices, over against the typical Protestant church. But, it all turns out to be paganism. There is the common thread.
We can add in things that prefer to present as not being religious. Let’s consider environmentalism in its current guise. What do we find but the invocation of Gaia. What do you know? Paganism. New Age practice? Pagan in the extreme! Goddess worship? Oh, yes. The sexual revolution in its most current, most repulsive extreme? Absolutely. The whole mess is paganism top to bottom. That being the case, I found myself rather saddened to read Clarke’s take on the situation in his day. Granted, he’s looking back down the avenues of history, but it demonstrates a certain blind spot, one whose fallout we seem to be left to combat today. Looking at the ironic justice evidenced in the quotes Paul has chosen, he looks back through history and sees that where paganism sought to destroy the Church, it found itself destroyed instead.
Now, I will say with utmost confidence that this is the assured final outcome. But, we have made a mistake in supposing paganism a defeated foe of no further concern to us. Paganism was no more destroyed than Satan was fully and finally thwarted in the days of Christ’s temptation. He went away to await an opportune time, but he didn’t go away for good. Paganism, as it turns out, did much the same. So, too, every ancient heresy to plague the Church. It suffers defeat for a season, but its supporters do not recant, they retreat. They regroup. They bide their time, assess their tactics, and await an opportune time to make a return. It may be decades, even centuries. But, one needs only to survey the religious landscape today with a modicum of awareness as to those historical doctrines of death to see every last one of them active and on the attack. Sadly, one need not look too far to find that modern day believers, much like the Corinthians to whom Paul writes, are readily taken in by the subtle presentation, the plausible argument, the enticing message of false piety.
When I read that comment from Clarke, my immediate reaction was, ‘would that you were right’. Oh! How much sweeter the day had these foes of truth and faith been defeated rather than merely subdued. But, their continued existence, while it is cause of no end of sorrow to the believer and to the Church, must be understood to have purpose. This is not, I must stress, some oversight on God’s part, something that slipped through because He wasn’t paying sufficient attention to details. No. The truth of Scripture stands. “God is the one who catches the wise in their craftiness, and He knows that the reasonings of these so called wise men are entirely useless.” Whatever their intentions, it remains rock-solid certainty that God is availing Himself of their plans to further His Good – nay, Perfect – plan. We, dear brothers, KNOW that God causes ALL things to work together for good to those who love God, and are called according to His purpose (Ro 8:28). This must be more than mental assent, if we are to stand fast. It must be the very fabric of our thought and deed.
Joseph didn’t persevere because he had read something once about how God was that way. He knew it. He knew it with every fiber of his being, trusted it more than his own senses. He did not appear to be particularly wise when he was sent off to prison for a sin he didn’t even commit. You know, it’s one thing to face the consequences of an act that had some pleasure in it, but this? What is he thinking? He’s thinking that God wasn’t fooling. This is for good. The present may be bad, but it is to good purpose. Wait for it.
Now, let us turn to the other side of the picture. As I found in my earlier study of this passage, the first order of business here is delivered with vehemence. “Stop deceiving yourselves!” This has been a continuous issue for the church, and it has to stop. Now! That’s the sense of the message Paul has for Corinth. There is no room to doubt that the condition that was true for Corinth remains true today. We are all so terribly proud of our understanding of God – just as proud as we were when our understanding had led us to conclusions we are now absolutely certain were wrong. And still we are proud. Do we never learn?
Where the illness is pride – which is most everywhere – the curative is humility, ‘the remedy of the irregularities in the church of Corinth’, as Matthew Henry writes. It’s a curative we are just as greatly in need of obtaining. So, hear this not as directed at the factional leaders of Corinth, nor even to the Corinthians at all. Take it personally. Calvin writes, “God from on high declares that everything that the mind of man conceives and contrives is mere vanity.” God, then, declares that everything I personally conceive and contrive is mere vanity. I am, after all, man, and my thoughts are part of that ‘everything’.
Our capacity for impressing ourselves seems boundless. Our ability to be absolutely certain of our convictions no matter how many times they have required revision in the past is unparalleled. Our pride is, by all the evidence before us, incapable of being tempered with real humility. Now, no sooner do I write that than I find myself wanting to temper it: It’s not that bad. We have a degree of humility. It’s just that we really are right, and it’s hard to deal with all the erroneous thinking around us. At which point I am forced to concede the problem isn’t that bad. It’s worse.
Barnes writes, “Let no man be puffed up with a vain conceit of his own wisdom, for this had been the real cause of all the evils which they had experienced.” I cannot speak for every man, as often as I appear to try. I can speak for myself. For my part, prideful conceit as to my own wisdom is a deadly poison that I cannot seem to eradicate. What a surprise that is! Here is something I cannot do. My every effort proves vanity and wind. Oh, wait. Isn’t that what Calvin was saying? Isn’t that what Paul has been saying? Indeed it is. And I, in my pride, quickly transferred the lesson to another. Clever aren’t I? But, God will not have it so.
He has been worrying away at this prideful self of mine, it seems, so long as I’ve acknowledged Him. And yet, I see that I hold onto it. As recently as last night, I have been brought face to face with cause to repent of pride’s poison. It almost certainly stands as the reason for this dull headache this morning. Wrestling with God and conscience will do that to a person. Seeing the corrective action that must, for now, lie ahead of me and wondering if I will manage it correctly has a certain tensing effect on the muscles which is not all that conducive to restorative rest. But, then, I am merely battling pride on another front, aren’t I? For, I still remain convinced that it’s up to me – my strength, my wise choice of words, my gentle temper. No wonder I feel a sense of impending doom! But, it’s not up to me. It’s God in me. He has arranged this reminder and recognition. He has prompted the heart-sick reaction to seeing how grievous this sin has become in me. He is with me yet. As I saw in the preceding section (as I must remind myself when called to bring the word of correction to others, so to myself now), “You ARE the temple of God.”
There is a correlative knowledge to go with that recognition. “He will see it cleansed.” Christ cleansed the temple when He was here. (How is it I’ve never made this connection before?) Christ cleansed the temple in heaven when He returned. We are His temple. Can there be any doubt but that He will cleanse it in us? Is this not the very mission of the Holy Spirit? I need not strength of will. I need fervency of prayer.
Lord God, thank You for bringing this recognition. Now, I pray, bring the words and the meekness of character by which to rectify the damage I have done. I know I am forgiven, for I have repented to You already. But, let me repay and repair in the strength of Your Holy Spirit, for I shall otherwise make a bigger mess. O, God! How I would that you would rend this prideful root from out of me once for all! How long, O, Lord? How long must I struggle with this towering ego of mine? Heal me, Father, that I may serve You better not just in the church, but in public. If I must become a fool to that end, so be it. If I must suffer ridicule, so be it. But, let it not be that You suffer ridicule for my failure.
[04/10/17] This is a message that makes us uncomfortable, yet it is what the Spirit says to us through Paul: Better we were content to be considered fools if by so doing we become wise to salvation. I’m leaning on Mr. Clarke for that rendering, although I could as readily borrow the same sentiment from Barnes. The point is simply this: The issue we have with worldly wisdom is its entire lack of value in matters of salvation. Science has produced great advances in our understanding. These are not an issue. The wisdom by which they discern the equations describing planetary orbits, or the treatments for maladies that afflict the human body is not what Paul speaks of as foolish, and if we do so it is not just the world that should account us foolish, but the wise Christian as well.
Where science becomes foolishness is when it thinks to offer salvation by its arts. For Paul, such tendencies were found primarily with the Greek philosophers with their various approaches to saving man, and their failed attempts at describing ultimate realities. For us, it may be other matters, such as the efforts to establish rules of morality and ethics based on nothing but science. Science is not a morally oriented pursuit, although it may well be that those who pursue its arts are moral people. The mere fact that that we have learned how to do some scientific marvel or other does not render the doing of it morally wise or even morally acceptable. We have learned, to our shame, any number of ways to kill efficiently and from great distance. We have learned how to terminate life in the womb without particular physical danger to the mother. And in so doing, we have done our utmost to ignore the emotional danger imposed on her for passing this death sentence on the life created within her. We have – we must in order to continue – completely disposed of all concern as to the spiritual destruction this action causes. Eternity doesn’t matter much to the scientist because he cannot describe the mechanics of eternity.
It is when we face these misplaced appeals to science as mediator of morality (or politics or anything else this side of God), that we must content ourselves to be seen as benighted throwbacks for insisting that God’s definitions stand. This applies, it should be noted, not just to the opinions that come at us from outside. It is equally applicable to the opinions that form within us. Now, those opinions likely form in response to outside stimuli, but they remain internal constructs from our perspective, and the more tenaciously held because of it. But, if we must be content to be considered fools for our faithfulness to God, we must likewise be prepared to give way to God when He brings correction our way.
What shall we do when a long-held belief of ours is shown to be counter-factual from a proper Scriptural perspective? Do we doggedly persist in maintaining our opinion as valid and legitimate? Do we refuse correction because to accept it must mean acknowledging what has been, perhaps, lifelong error on our part? The proper answer must be no, mustn’t it? Rather, as Calvin propose, we must be ready – and I’ll emphasize ready – to give way to God, embracing ‘with fear and reverence everything that he teaches us’, rather than pursuing whatever plausible course our senses have been advertising. It is at that point where man’s wisdom comes into competition with God’s wisdom that that man’s wisdom becomes utmost foolishness. And that holds for believer and unbeliever alike. Man vs God. There can be no contest! And so, we come round again to the beginning of this brief passage. “Let no man deceive himself.” If you have been doing so, knock it off! Dad has spoken.
This is a message to pride. You ARE the temple of God, but don’t get puffed up about it. The temple of God cannot aspire to outshine God. Rationalize it any which way you like, but if pride is leading you to elevate your opinions beyond what they should, you are no longer rational. Pride wants you – I speak to myself for I am only too aware of the long-running battle. Pride wants you, and seeks to see your ego overwhelm good sense. Sadly, I know just how ready my ego is to do just that. Who needs sense when you can fly off the handle? And what comes of it? Well, praise be, I’m still the temple of God, so what comes of it is a stern reminder of my own moral worthlessness, and the utter lack of strength that is in me to combat this ego. I cannot do it. God must, else it will remain undone. I will remain undone.
There is also a sound reminder to be heard from Clarke’s writing. It’s something I think we are generally quite ready to hear when it’s leveled at the other guy. But, when it’s brought home and pointed our way, well rationalization awaits. Good intentions, he writes, ‘will stand them in no stead’ in the final judgment. Good intentions are not enough. While the life of faith is more to do with motivation than outward act, that is not to say that right motive excuses wrongful act. It is only to say that the right action undertaken for the wrong reason is not only futile, but potentially deadly to the spirit of the man. Think, as the obvious example, of communion. We are warned outright: Don’t make empty show of this, else you eat and drink to your own death. The symbol must represent inner reality. If there is unforgiveness in your heart, it’s the wrong time to be coming to the table for forgiveness. If prayer is just an obligation you fulfill so that others can applaud your efforts, you are wasting your breath and annoying the very God you would appeal to for aid. Pride has overwhelmed your good sense, and rather than humbling yourself before Him, you have opted to exalt yourself in His place. You have set yourself as the arbiter of right, and that is nigh on guaranteed to go wrong.
Through all of this, I think it is the point made by Matthew Henry that strikes closest to the heart for me. While the humble man will submit his understanding to better information so as to be ‘improved by revelation’, the proud man, ‘conceited of his own wisdom and understanding, will undertake to correct even divine wisdom itself’. Those are words to strike dread in the heart! The temple seeks to tell its God how to think and act. Far be it from us! And yet… How often do we do this? How often do I do this?
Do I not, daily if not more often, take matters into my own hand? Do our prayers not have a tendency to ask not what God wills, but rather to seek to bend His will toward our preferences? Can it really be wise to insist that God see things our way? His ways are far and away above and beyond our own. Yes, we are indwelt by God, but we show ourselves to be deaf, dumb stones in the walls of His temple most of the time. The entire lack of humility we so often show in approaching His throne demonstrates our unfitness to be anywhere in the vicinity. Yes, we are called to approach His throne boldly, knowing ourselves accepted before Him. But, to come to Him demanding? Far be it from us! No. Come to Him asking, “Lord, how may I be of service to You? What would You have of me this day? Speak, for Your servant listens.” We are, as I said, morally worthless in our own strength. If we can come up with nothing better to say, let us then ask that God might strengthen us to live according to His will, to think according to His way, and to act ever with His glory our goal.
