The Thickness of the New Creation

Our picture of “Heaven” is wrong because we’re looking in the wrong place. Rather than gazing up in the clouds trying to picture what heaven will be like, look down at your feet. Take your shoes off and dig your toes into the damp soil. Reach down and tip the little pill bug over on its back. Watch its squiggly legs kick in the air. Then, turn it over again and let it scurry away. Nearby, see the earthworm wriggling deeper into the freshly turned earth. Look closer and examine the tiny grains of dirt, each a different shape and color, yet combining to form the lush hue of fertile soil. It even smells brown. Turn over the small rocks and explore the exquisite glories that hide in even the most innocuous crevices of creation. I can’t tell you what the new earth will be like. The Bible gives us very little detail. But I can say that this one’s pretty amazing. And, whatever God has in mind for our future, it will not be any less than this

- Marc Cortez

Heaven is Union with God

The moment “Heaven”  ceases to mean union with God and “Hell” to mean separation from Him, the belief in either is mischievous superstition; for then we have, on the one hand, a merely “compensatory” belief (a “sequel” to life’s sad story, in which everything will “come all right”) and, on the other, a nightmare which drives men into asylums or makes them persecutors. – C.S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms

Reflections on Reflections on the Psalms: “Judgement” in the Psalms

Lewis must have fallen asleep at the typewriter and argued the following in his sleep:

• The psalmist is in error when he says that he is righteous.  Lewis believes that he confuses “being in the right” and “being righteous” (pg. 17).  He states that the psalmist is wrong in declaring himself righteous.  However, he admits that he might be correct when he declares himself on the right side of a particular issue (pg. 18).  My response is this: The psalmist is correct in appealing to God on the basis of his righteousness because he is positionally righteous before God by faith (and this faith is evidenced by righteous deeds).  This righteousness is an alien righteousness imputed to him through the work of Christ, but we must allow for less theologically articulate statements in the Old Testament since Christ had not yet fully disclosed all the mysteries of God.
• Lewis states that praying for God’s judgement on enemies is merely civil for the Jews and should not be prayed by Christians.  Now, Jesus does say that we are to pray for those who persecute us (Matt. 5:44), but a desire to see wrongs made right isn’t ungodly.  While Lewis provides a fresh way to apply these imprecatory Psalms, he denies their most direct implications and implies that the confidence of the psalmist is foolish by saying that “there are, indeed, some passages in which the Psalmists approach to Christian humility and wisely lose their self-confidence” (pg. 16).  If Lewis is correct, the Church must throw Revelation out of the canon.  The Apocalypse was written to comfort persecuted believers with the certainty of Christ’s victory over his enemies.  Christians hope in their judgement at Golgatha, and in the judgement of the wicked at the resurrection.  Both penal substituation and retributive justice are essential elements of the Christian hope.

But Lewis was nodding in and out of consciousness.  He brilliantly observed the following in his waking moments:

• “Judgement is apparently an occasion of universal rejoicing” (pg. 9) in the Psalms.
• Something to keep in mind while reading imprecatory Psalms is to step into the shoes of the oppressor to see if they fit (pg.13).  Could anyone pray this Psalm against me?
• The Biblical concept of a bad judge is of a man who doesn’t judge at all (pg. 10).

The Right of a Book Our World Forsook

…necessary to the practice of Christianity is not only action but also proclamation (kerygma).  We are called not only to act upon the world but also to speak to and about its conditions – and to speak with authority and security, rooted in the (written!) biblical witness.  And since literature and criticism constantly address the personal and social issues to which the Bible calls our attentions, then Christians who study or write literature should be particularly concerned with the reservation of the kerygma (Jacobs, 191).

Like many of my peers, I entered college with little knowledge about literary criticism.  I assumed that texts are intelligible and have meaning.  This commitment to discernable meaning and truth arose out of my understanding of the Bible and divine revelation.  “In the beginning was the Word” (John 1:1).  “God said, ‘Let there be light’” (Gen. 1:3).  Jeremiah writes, “The word of the Lord came to me, saying, ‘Go and proclaim in the hearing of Jerusalem’” (Jer. 2:1-2). Paul charges Timothy to “preach the word” (2 Tim. 4:2).  Peter encourages his audience to pay careful attention to the prophetic word (2 Pet. 1:19).  Christians are word people.  We believe that the Scriptures are our sole authority for faith and practice.  With this dependence upon God’s written, divine self-disclosure, the stakes are high when Christians search for ways to integrate their faith and English Studies.

It was my sophomore year when I was introduced to Deconstruction as a way of reading.  As Charles E. Bressler notes in Literary Criticism, “Derrida claims that his approach to reading and literary analysis is more a ‘strategic device’ than a methodology, more a strategy or approach to literature than a school or theory of criticism” (107).  I was taught this approach by two professors who viewed it as curious, but ultimately as an invalid way of approaching a text.  I am thankful for the pastoral care each one exercised in introducing my classmates and I to Deconstruction; for, even their words of caution weren’t enough to strip it completely of its appeal.  One must learn how to be a thoughtful Christian in higher education, and it is common for young Christians to stumble over unfamiliar ideas.  Unfortunately, some run with these ideas without ever stopping to think critically about what they’ve accepted as true.  I am thankful that sound books and solid professors conspired together to provoke critical, Christian reflection on critical method –  Deconstruction included.  Because Christianity is built on certain presuppositions, and postmodernism (of which Deconstruction is an expression) on others, it will be impossible in this essay to strike this reading strategy with a fatal blow.  In fact, it is improbable that this essay will be more than a glancing blow to Christian deconstructionists.  I hope to argue convincingly that the Christian critic cannot accept Deconstruction as a valid approach to literary texts while remaining consistent with his convictions.  I propose that reading is an ethical exercise for the Christian.  First I will examine what makes Deconstruction appealing as a reading strategy, and then I will attempt to demonstrate that it is irreconcilable with Christian theology and anthropology (anthropology here refers to that aspect of Christian theology which deals with man).

First, let it be said that Deconstruction is based primarily on certain convictions about language. These convictions are perfectly rational and must be dealt with.  Jacques Derrida developed his theory of language by critiquing the work of structuralist critic Ferdinand de Saussure.  In a nutshell, Structuralism relies on the underlying structure of language to discern its meaning.  Saussure describes this structure in terms of sounds and signs (signifiers) that represent certain ideas or concepts (the signified).  Jonathan Culler, foremost post-structuralist scholar and professor at Cornell University, summarizes Post-structuralism’s critique of Structuralism in his book The Pursuit of Signs: Semiotics, Literature, Deconstruction.  Culler writes,

Semiotics thus takes up the problem of the sign, on which logocentric notions of signification have been based, and gives it a relational or differential interpretation which seems to not only make possible a new type of explanation – structural explanation in terms of underlying systems of relation – but also to displace logocentrism.  However, as Derrida has shown,… semiotics does not escape logocentrism: though the source of meanings is no longer a consciousness in which they exist prior to their expression, their source becomes a system of differences which semiotics treats as the necessary condition of any act of signification…. One deconstructs this perspective by arguing that the differences ultimately responsible for meaning did not simply fall from heaven but are themselves products. (40-41)

Because language is made up of “binary oppositions”, words derive their meaning from their opposites.  For example, we understand “light” because it is the opposite of “dark”.  Derrida argues that one element in each of these binary oppositions has been arbitrarily privileged; therefore, the hierarchies from which meaning is derived are unstable.  It is through demonstrating how a text’s meaning relies upon these assumed hierarchies that one deconstructs a text.  But why would anyone want to deconstruct a work of literature?

Deconstruction is an important strategy for those seeking to make a name for themselves in the academic community.  Literary critics devote their lives to analyzing canonical works of literature.  There are more critics than there are works to criticize, so there is pressure to say something new about old books.  Deconstruction allows literary critics to find fresh meaning in texts that have been written on hundreds of times.  In fact, most other literary theories depend on Deconstruction as a means to their own ends.  For instance, Feminist criticism and Queer theory rely upon Deconstruction to overthrow oppressive hierarchies within a work of literature.  Deconstruction opens countless doors for fresh readings.  In addition to the academic benefit that Deconstruction offers, deconstructing a text can be fun.  There is a certain thrill that comes with locating assumptions within a text and watching traditional interpretations of the text crumble as the foundation is ripped from underneath them.  But is this sort of juvenile fun constructive?  It can perhaps be argued that there really are unjustified hierarchies that serve to marginalize and oppress others which Deconstruction can dismantle.  But ruins aren’t the object of justice, so there must be something built in the place of the unjust structure that was just torn down.  Unfortunately, this new structure is just as subject to Deconstruction as the old one was.  Even if this reading strategy is used as a means to another end, the arguments erected from the ruins never have the structural integrity of the text’s intended meaning.  But pragmatism mustn’t be the field on which this war is fought.  The Christian reader must ask, “Is it Christian?”

There is ultimately no biblical argument that can withstand Deconstruction on the basis of reason (primarily because the Bible itself is subject to Deconstruction), but the community of Christian scholars can make a rational defense for a position that is consistent that its affirmation of the absolute authority of Scripture.  Such an argument can be made from the creation account in the book of Genesis.   In the opening chapters of Genesis numerous binary oppositions are present.  But the creation account establishes the validity of particular hierarchies amongst these couples.  For instance, as Genesis 1 opens, the earth is said to be formless and void.  God’s work of creation in the first two chapters simply seems to be an ordering of the elements that he had already created.  At the end of this work God declares the result to be good.  There is therefore evidence in the Genesis narrative that order is to be privileged over chaos in the Christian life.  This provides support for Paul’s exhortation to the Corinthians to exercise their spiritual gifts in an orderly manner so that the body might benefit.  Therefore, orderliness is privileged over chaos not simply because it works, but because there is divine precedent for its privileged position in creation.  Another example, one that has extraordinary implications for the world of literary criticism, is the biblical evidence for a gender hierarchy.  In the Genesis narrative, man is created first, and then a woman is created as a helper for the man.  This is explained by Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:6-9 in his teaching on femininity and modesty.  He writes,

But since it is disgraceful for a wife to cut off her hair or shave her head, let her cover her head.  For a man ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God, but woman is the glory of man.  For man was not made from woman, but woman from man.  Neither was man created for woman, but woman for man. (ESV)

So, there is in the first chapters of the Bible evidence for man being privileged over woman.  This privileged position doesn’t entail a difference in equality, but a difference in responsibility and authority.  Nevertheless, a hierarchy is warranted according to the biblical witness.  There are other such binary oppositions in Genesis 1 and 2 that come packaged with divine warrant for privileging one over the other.  These include the creator and creation relationship, darkness and light, and man and beast.  In all of these binary oppositions the Bible privileges one element over another.  So, ironically, Culler is exactly wrong.  When discussing binary oppositions and hierarchies, it is evident that at least some of these constructions do fall from heaven.  This is important for Christians who are evaluating Deconstruction; for, Derrida’s argument for the utter relativity of language and the uncertainty of communication is completely rational.  But the Christian finds linguistic stability in the inerrant and authoritative word of God.

Ultimately, one decision divides Christians who receive Deconstruction as a valid reading strategy and those who reject it as hazardous.  Those who have accepted Deconstruction have placed their faith in the sufficiency of reason.  There is no reason why a literary critic with no religious commitments should reject Deconstruction.  In fact, it would be a clear rejection of the obvious for unreligious individuals to argue against Deconstruction.  However, a Christian who is unwavering in his commitment to the authority and sufficiency of the Bible must reject Deconstruction on the basis of certain faith assumptions.  Christians who become Deconstructionists choose to submit to the authority of reason, and those who reject it submit to the authority of the Bible.  So what are the consequences of Christians deconstructing the Bible?  Christians must admit that deconstructing the biblical text will lead to the rejection of most every major doctrine; therefore, it is practically essential for the Christian to refrain from reading the Scriptures in this manner.  In fact, it is unlikely that someone can read the Bible using a deconstructive reading and even remain “Christian” in the objective sense of that label.  Objectively, a Christian is someone who affirms the ecumenical creeds (i.e. the Chalcedonian and Nicene Creeds).  Deconstructing the biblical text will ultimately lead to the rejection of the Trinity and the divinity of Christ; therefore, unless someone provides an alternative definition of “Christian”, Christianity and Deconstruction are naturally at odds. The same could be said about any belief system that requires the affirmation of statements or creeds as true.  But aside from biblical hierarchies and practical implications of employing this reading strategy, what light does Christian theology and anthropology shed on this subject?  As I argue that Deconstruction as an unethical reading strategy for Christians, remember that this essay specifically addresses the Christian critic’s approach to literature.  It has been shown that Deconstruction can undermine orthodoxy if applied to Scripture; however, these are not sufficient grounds on which to reject it as a strategy for reading uninspired literature.

The marrow of the Christian worldview and the meta-narrative that naturally arises out of the biblical storyline is creation, fall, redemption, and restoration.  Man’s rebellion in Eden, Christ’s redemption, and the New Creation all derive their significance from the creation account in Genesis 1.  While the Christian meta-narrative is often explained in cosmological terms, Christian anthropology concerns itself primarily with the microcosmic doctrine of Imago Dei. It is in the doctrine of the image of God in man, and the creation account in the first two chapters of Genesis, that the strongest opposition to Deconstruction is found.  Genesis 1:26 and 27 read,

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.  And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”  So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them (ESV).

Man is the pinnacle of God’s creation precisely because he bears the divine image and likeness.  This is intended to have an immediate significance for us as we read the Genesis account.  The Bible describes the relationship between God and Adam in terms of fatherhood and sonship.  This is part of the significance of Jesus’ identity as the Son of God.  This indicates that Jesus has the same nature as his Heavenly Father.  In Romans 5 Paul also explicates the significance of this in terms of federal headship by referring to Jesus as the “second Adam”.  So, as the second Adam shared God’s nature as his Son, so with the first Adam.  Luke traces Jesus’ lineage back to God in his Gospel by ending his genealogy with the following: “…the son of Adam, the son of God” (Luke 3:38).  Russell Moore, Dean of the School of Theology at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, explains the significance of biblical genealogies in Tempted and Tried.  Moore writes,

We know from the Bible that a child learns who he or she is in relation to his or her father.  That’s why persons in the scriptural story are known as ‘Joshua the son of Nun’ or ‘John the son of Zebedee.’  Our personal identities are shaped after a cosmic pattern, a Father from whom fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named (Eph. 3:14-15).  We reflect a Father-Son dynamic in which a Father God announced, ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you’ (Ps. 2:7). (32)

The statement that “God created man in his own image” signifies that he fathered Adam as his own son, and this creates the expectation that he will be like God, and that he will do the types of things that God does.  With this relationship in mind, the actions of God in the first chapter of Genesis must be examined.

There are of course two authors of Scripture, the historical author of the text and the Holy Spirit.  Therefore, it must be kept in mind that Moses is telling this story to Israelites who have known the redemption of God.  For this particular audience the Imago Dei would have had moral and covenantal significance.  But because Moses was inspired by the Spirit of God as he wrote (cf. 2 Peter 1:20-21), there is also an intended significance for the gentile who lacks the knowledge and experience of the Israelites.  The person reading this text without any prior knowledge about the God of Israel will know only one thing about God when the Imago Dei is introduced in verses 26 and 27: God is a creator.  In The Liberated Imagination Leland Ryken, chair of the English Department at Wheaton College, writes,

…God’s creation of the world was only the start of his creative activity.  He delegated the ongoing work of creation to his human creatures.  We read in Genesis 1:27 that ‘God created man in his own image.’  Exactly what does this mean? When we first read about the  image of God in people in Genesis 1,we have as yet heard nothing about God as redeemer or the God of providence or the covenant God or the God of moral truth.  The one thing that we know about God is that he created the world.  In its immediate narrative context, then, the doctrine of the image of God in people emphasizes that people are, like God, creators (66).

Here Ryken restricts his observation to the “immediate narrative context”; however, this is important considering that the majority of this text’s readers had followed neither the cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night.  But it is not enough to establish what the text says about God; rather, the significance of this information must be determined before it can inform the way we read literature.

The first thing we learn about God is that he is an author.  In Notes from the Tilt-a-whirl N.D. Wilson refers to God as “the Poet.” If God is an author, a poet, a playwright, then man was also created with the ability to author novels, poems, and plays.  As Ryken writes, “ [God] delegated the ongoing work of creation to his human creatures” (66). Part of the responsibility that comes with bearing God’s image is an imagination.  As God has spoken man into existence, so man has the ability to dream, tell, and write stories.  As Ryken has written, “Human creativity is rooted in divine creativity. Artists create because God created first.  Genesis 1 is the starting point for thinking Christianly about artistic creativity” (65-66).  Now, there are obvious limitations to the human imagination that God does not have.  For instance, God created everything ex nihilo.  All being is derived from the mind of God; therefore, God needed only his own imagination to dream up this universe. In contrast, human authors can only compile elements of God’s creation and work them into their own narrative.  Also, in God’s omnipotence he speaks what he imagines into physical existence.  As Wilson has written,

For Berkeley and Buddhists and most breeds of Hindu, this world is illusory, sleight of hand.  It seems material, the way the smoke plays with the mirrors, but it isn’t.  The world is Vegas magic.  Pick a card.  Kick a stone.  There are no tricks here.  There are no props, no prefabbed white rabbits.  The magic is real, and I stand blinking on the stage because of it.  I’m real.  I’m matter. Cut me and I’ll bleed.  But I’m not made out of anything, and if the Magician, the Poet, the Word, if the Singer were to stop His voice, I would simply cease to be (cited from Kindle on iPhone, Location 369).

This is important for the Christian critic to keep in mind.  The human author can only create, compose, or even exist because God is speaking him into existence.  The author of Hebrews writes that Jesus is “the radiance of the glory of God  and the exact imprint of his nature, and he uphold the universe by the word of his power (Heb. 1:3, emphasis added).  Remembering this will help the Christian reader avoid worshiping Homer, Dante, or Faulkner.  The purpose of human creativity is to direct the reader’s gaze to its divine origin.  Ryken describes this theocentric view of literature well in the following words:

The biblical doctrine of the image of God in people is thus the theological reason why people write literature and paint pictures and compose music.  They create because they have been endowed with God’s image. This, in turn, deflects the ultimate praise for artistic achievement from people to God… (67).

This is instructive for how we are to approach literature as Christian readers.  When God finished his work of creation, he rested and enjoyed the fruit of his labor.  Man is to mirror God’s response by delighting in his own creation.  Literature is to be enjoyed by both author and reader for the praise and adoration of God.  If the human imagination reflects the nature and character of God and produces fruit that is intended to be enjoyed for the adoration and praise as the divine author, there are two distinctively Christian responses to literature.  The first concerns the “legitimate authority” of the author that Alan Jacobs refers to in his essay “Deconstruction”, and the second concerns the continuity between the author’s creation which reflects the author, and Creation which reflects God.

First, the Christian reader must approach a text humbly.  As God has authority over his creation, so the human author has authority over his literary creation.  This idea was suggested to me by Peter J. Leithart’s essay Authors, Authority, and the Humble Reader.  Arguing for the necessity of recognizing the authority of the author Leithart writes,

…reading could not be anything but an act of humility – homage to the auctoritas of an auctor.  This medieval insight should be a truism: simply by picking up a book, opening it, and following the words that someone else has written, a reader is subjecting himself to the author.  In ages of confusion, however, truisms must be argued, and it is, especially in our postmodern climate, important to emphasize it once again (210).

This theory of literature doesn’t require the reader to submit to the didactic elements of a work of literature.  The reader is responsible for submitting to the worldview of a text only as far as it is consistent with the worldview presented in the Bible.  But humble reading is allowing the author to define his own terms and establish the rules of his own creation.  Leithart writes,

No matter what the distance between the real and the fictional worlds, reading intelligently requires a humble acceptance of the world of the novel…. A ‘suspension of disbelief’ is elementary to reading fiction, but it is rarely recognized as an act of humility (211).

This strikes at the root of the inconsistency between Christianity and Deconstruction.  If  moral categories may be applied to reading, I propose that a deconstructive reading of literature is rebellious, arrogant, or even unethical.  There are reading strategies that are consistent with Christian theology and anthropology, and there are ways of reading that are inconsistent with them.  An author sets his own terms as he writes his world into existence. Man reflects God’s authorship as he employs literary devices such as types, foreshadowing, and metaphor.  God has written meaning into the Old Testament (and into history) through these same literary devices that is only fully disclosed in Christ.  The human author also creates meaning with these different devices.  The humble reader is sensitive to these clues and takes into account how they fit into the narrative.  Deconstruction ignores these elements and finds its purpose in discovering unintended meaning; meaning other than the meaning the author writes into the text.  Alan Jacobs describes the deconstructive reading strategie as overpowering.  He writes,

…it is proper…to suggest that insofar as deconstruction involves the exertion of power over texts, writers, and other interpreters – and the Nietzschean view of belief and action virtually demands that – the Christian can join with the Marxist and the liberal humanist to denounce it as ethically reprehensible. And indeed there is a strong sense in which deconstruction is, like the philosophy of Nietzsche, little or nothing more than an assertion of power (194).

At this point in the discussion of authority, Jacques Derrida himself if of some help.  In a collection of his lectures published posthumously as a multi-volume work entitled The Beast and the Sovereign, Derrida focuses on the roles of the beast and the sovereign.  In a discussion of Rousseau’s self identification as a “werewolf” Derrida writes, “So the werewolf, the “true” werewolf, is indeed the one who, like the beast or the sovereign, places himself or finds himself placed “outside the law,” outlaw [Eng.], above or at a distance from the normal regime of law and right… (I.63-64).  Derrida is here presupposing something significant.   He notes that both the beast and the sovereign are outside or above the law.  If this thinking is applied to the discussion of authorial authority and the responsibility of the reader, the implication is that man, in placing himself outside the law, is choosing to be subhuman.  Sovereignty is a right that is held by a few.  In the literary world, it is the author who has sovereignty over a text.  When man tries to unlawfully usurp this throne, he may grasp for true sovereignty, but this right can never be his.  Rather, the only way the reader can escape the authority of the author is to become less human; not more autonomous.  As Jacobs states, this is “ethically reprehensible”.   So Deconstruction’s obsession with raping the text and the author is a power play.  Playing with the meaning of a text sounds rather liberating; however, the reader soon finds himself unable to enjoy the simple pleasures of reading.  Jacobs also writes,

Some Christians have found deconstruction appealing because they see it as bringing interpretive liberation; but orthodox Christian theology has always insisted that freedom, for creatures, is possible only within structures of constraint.  Thus the Apostle Paul says that we can only be either children of God or slaves to sin – that is, that we are always under benevolent authority or naked power; and Augustine, at the end of the City of God, says that the saints in Heaven will be truly free because they will be unable to sin.  Likewise, the historicity of language is not a burden to be cast off in order that we may have something better; it is the very condition of meaning and communication between people. We can talk to one another insofar as we share a language that has a history of meanings (196-197).

One might question how a reading strategy can be immoral.  This conclusion arises out of the author’s reflection of God as the divine author of creation.  Dominion and subjection are two fundamental aspects of being human.  Man’s rebellion consists of asserting his self sovereignty.  This is the great irony of the Fall of Man.  Man was given dominion over every beasts of the field; yet, Eve allowed a beast to interrogate her and ultimately to deceive her.  The Serpent promised that eating of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil would make the man and his wife “like God.”  Sadly, it is the image of God that was marred by this attempt at a self sovereign power play.  Similarly, readers ought to approach texts knowing their identity.  The role of the reader is submission to the author.  Jacobs again identifies Deconstruction as an attempt to usurp the author’s throne in the following:

…Why seek after such textual power?…the text (or author, or a previous critic) is an enemy, well-armed and fierce, with whom I am in a kill-or-be-killed relationship.  I must exert my power over the text or else it will exert its power over me.  Thus the assertions of deconstruction (like those of Nietzsche) derive chiefly if not wholly from fear – fear of one’s personal autonomy being infringed upon by an external force, the text (195).

The Christian reader must ask himself, “does this fear of external infringement,” this hostile attitude to the author, or this exertion of “personal autonomy” more closely align itself with Scripture’s view of sin or righteousness?  It shouldn’t surprise the Christian reader that reading is a microcosmic exercise of faith.  Reading is an ethical exercise because there exists between the author and the reader a distinctly human exchange.  Refusing to submit to the authority of the author has the same practical effects on our ability to enjoy literature as sin has on our ability to enjoy life.  This is why Jacobs writes the following:

…there is something seriously wrong with a system of criticism that transforms an experience as potentially joyful and exhilarating as reading into an especially bitter form of warfare.  It is particularly regrettable in that it does not allow the reader to see the textual encounter as a potentially enriching, even ennobling thing; it makes no provision for the possibility that what a text may exercise over us is not necessarily sheer power but rather a legitimate authority, like that which Kent recognized in Lear, or which distinguished Jesus from the (far more powerful) scribes (195).

A deconstructionist wouldn’t say that he is waging war against the author or his text, and a sinner doesn’t believe that he is waging war against his Creator.  A distinctly Christian perspective on this issue requires the boldness to step outside of the literary circle and attempt to refer to certain ideas objectively.  It doesn’t matter that Deconstruction can be enjoyable.  The bottom line is that it doesn’t lead to the true pleasure of mining a text for meaning.  Deconstruction doesn’t offer the joy of a respectful conversation with the author.

Perhaps a good summary of what has been argued for in this essay would go something like this: authorial intent isn’t fallacious, it’s authoritative and it’s liberating.  Christian critics do have the responsibility to evaluate texts, but we must always do so in ways that are respectful of the author’s authority.   Christian critics will do well to keep the following comments by Ryken in mind as they analyze works of literature:

We must not overstate the case for the merits of artistic creativity.  Human creativity did not escape the effects of the Fall.  Artistic creativity, too, is subject moral and intellectual criticism.  We have no basis of approving of a painting or a song or a novel simply because it is the product of human creativity.  We must differentiate between good and bad manifestations of the creative impulse (69).

Therefore, Christian critics must sift every work of literature through Scripture to see whether or not it is consistent with the biblical witness.  This act of biblical evaluation doesn’t violate the reader’s relationship with the author because the Christian reader realizes that the author himself is a work of art, and as such, he is subject to the Creator.  Thus, the life of the Christian literary critic is a continuous conversation with authors.  Authority permeates a distinctly Christian view of reading and literature, and this is precisely why Christians should read.  Reading is more than a pass-time, it is worship.

Home Groups and Their Purpose

 

A link that a friend sent me brought me into contact with the following quote from Brad Houses’ new book Community: Taking Your Small Group Off Life Support:

We have community groups because we have seen the glory of God and we have been given the grace to live our lives to exalt the Christ. We have community groups because we have been reconciled to God and one another. . . . We have community groups as a proclamation of the goodness of our God and testimony to the completed work of the cross. (p. 43)
Home groups are messy business. It is easy to become discouraged when it doesn’t feel like a group is “organic”.  But be encouraged with the Gospel, Brothers and Sisters! Even when we don’t feel it we are each united to the same Christ.  The same Holy Spirit reside in each one of us if we are in Christ…how wondrous!  We can’t help but be “organic”; for, we are the same “organism”!  Jesus is the True Vine and we are each united to him by faith.  Brothers and Sisters, we must be rooted in this reality to enjoy the rapturous moments when our emotions are in accord with it, and to endure when we can only trust that it’s true.  Paul instructs the Ephesians in reference to this unity in Christ in Ephesians 4.

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.  (Ephesians 4:1-6 ESV)

A few comments on this passage:

1.) Walking in a manner worthy of the Gospel assumes community.  It is difficult to be patient, gentle, and burden bearing when there isn’t anyone to test your patience, provoke you to wrath, or require your help.

2.) “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”  This phrase is essential to understanding the nature of the body.  Jesus also teaches that an inherent unity exist between the branches by virtue of their connection to the same Vine (John 15).  Lionel Richie might have provided the Church’s theme song with “Stuck on You.”  We’re all stuck on Christ, so we’re all stuck together… like it or not.  If you are wondering what you have in common with the person sitting next to you in Home Group Paul can help.

•one body

•one Spirit

•one hope

•one Lord

•one faith

•one baptism

•one God and Father

These commonalities are important to keep in mind, because there is some sense in which we are also to mature into unity.  This will come as the result of ministering to one another with our gifts as we are equipped by the ministry of the Word. In verses 11-13 of the same chapter Paul writes,

And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, (Ephesians 4:11-13 ESV)

How is this to be achieved?  Paul provides us with the answer two verses later.  He writes,

Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.  (Ephesians 4:15-16 ESV)

It is by lovingly speaking Scripture into each other’s lives that our community attains unity and maturity.  So, as a Home Group let us not ask what must we do to build an “organic” community; rather, we should ask how can we speak the truth in love to one another.  This happens in Home Group in ways that it simply can’t happen during Sunday morning worship.  It is through the explained Word in Sunday school and the preached Word in the sermon that we are equipped to minister to one another,  it is through Home Group and the Members meeting that we are given opportunities to minister to one another, and it is “in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart,…” (Ephesians 5:19 ESV) that the united and mature body exalts the God-head.  We must of course be seeking to encourage one another outside of corporate gatherings; however, there is vitality and joy to be had in growing as a local church.  May we rejoice in the means of grace as we strive for maturity!

Election and the Love of God

Paul writes the following to the Church at Ephesus:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.  (Ephesians 1:3-7 ESV)

What does Paul teach about election in this passage?  He tells the Ephesians that…

• He [the Father] chose us in him (namely, in Christ)
• We were chosen in Christ before the world was made.
• So that the elect should be holy and blameless.
• The Father elected us in love.
• Our election is unto adoption as sons (thus, it is relational and familial).
• Our adoption is through Jesus Christ.
• The Father’s election is the result of his own purposes and desires.
• The result is the praise of his glorious grace.

So, we are chosen by God to be sons of God to the praise of God.  Paul says that we are chosen to be sons of God.  Notice two things:

1. Paul speaks to a corporate body and says that they have been elected as “sons” (plural)
2. And in the New Testament, the doctrine of adoption is always individual.

This means that if you have trusted in the Christ and his death and resurrection, God set his love on you before the world was made.  He chose you, pursued you, and loved you enough not to take no for an answer.  The doctrine of election is pastoral.  As believers we are assured of the electing love of the Father, the propitiating love of the Son, and the regenerating and sanctifying love of the Spirit, both for us, and a definite number of people from every tribe, tongue, and nation.