The Blog of Hobbes

First and foremost we are called to Someone (God), not to something (such as motherhood, politics, or teaching) or to somewhere (such as the inner city or Outer Mongolia).

Os Guinness, The Call, p 31

who will deny that true religion consists in a great measure, in vigorous and lively actings of the inclination and will of the soul, or the fervent exercises of the heart? That religion which God requires, and will accept, does not consist in weak, dull, and lifeless wishes, raising us but a little above a state of indifference. God, in his Word, greatly insists upon it, that we be good in earnest, fervent in spirit, and our hearts vigorously engaged in religion.

If we be not in good earnest in religion, and our wills and inclinations be not strongly exercised, we are nothing. The things of religion are so great, that there can be no suitableness in the exercises of our hearts, to their nature and importance, unless they be lively and powerful. In nothing is vigor in the actings of our inclinations so requisite, as in religion, and in nothing is lukewarmness so odious.

Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections 1.II.1

This is particularly important for the more theologically minded of us, who can be tempted to think that our understanding of the things of God is of equal value to desiring, treasuring and living the things that we claim to understand.

Philosopher AC Grayling, in a recent Prospect Magazine column, summarizes three ways to argue against a relativist:

The first way to argue against the relativist is to point out that if there is no such thing as truth, except from a given perspective, then one must accept one of the following three assertions: the claim “there is no truth except from a given standpoint” is true only from a given standpoint, or it is self-refuting, or it is a very special kind of truth in being the only one that is true from all standpoints. Each of these makes a nonsense of the original claim, so the relativist position is incoherent.

The second way is to point out that when people assert that their beliefs are true, they typically do not mean “only for me”. This phrase applies in cases of taste or preference, and sometimes when there is known to be no way to settle a choice of view. But if I say that camels have humps, I do not mean to imply that it is simultaneously the case that camels have no humps just because someone else believes as much.

The third way is to point out that if relativism is true, enquiry (in science and elsewhere) is pointless, because if there is no objective truth, there is nothing to enquire about. If fairy tales and physics are equally true “in their own ways,” one might as well rest content with whatever one currently happens to believe, and seek no further.

What is astonishing is that these responses were first given by Plato 2,500 years ago, in his work Protagoras. But, despite their ancient origin, I suspect that they will do little to convince those who hold to a popular conception of relativism. Very few people embrace relativism - or any position, for that matter - due to an assessment of its philosophical cogency and logical coherence. Therefore, to wave a philosophical response in their face is hardly going to make much difference. And, this is one reason why I doubt whether rationally-based apologetics really do much good.

Nevertheless, it is always a fun exercise to reveal how certain strongly-held beliefs have very unwelcome implications. And, when an adherent is confronted with these implications, their sense of foolishness tends to be more persuasive than a rational argument. I’m sure we would recoil at the idea of making people feel foolish as part of an apologetic strategy. But when a philosophical or theological position is foolish, is it really a problem if we allow people to have a sense of its foolishness?

On Sunday I preached from Matthew 3, focusing mainly on John the Baptist’s ministry and message as described in verse 3. Once I get the audio, I’m tempted to post it here to expose my limitations as a teacher to the world, adding some analysis of my style and content. That will truly be a test of courage.

Anyway, a key question in verse 3 is this: who is the “voice of one crying in the wilderness”? Is this voice the commissioning voice of God addressed to John, or is it the prophetic voice of John himself? If it is the former, then it is John the Baptist who “prepares the way of the Lord”. He does the stuff and, consequently, the application of the divine command is limited to this particular episode of redemptive history. However, if it is the latter, then it is those around John who are to “prepare the way of the Lord” - those who hear his voice - and not John alone.

Despite the ESV and NIV chapter headings unhelpfully stating that “John the Baptist prepares the way”, it seems more clear to me that the voice in the wilderness is the voice of John. Therefore, his prophetic command to prepare the way is addressed to everyone - those in “Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region about the Jordan” - and surely beyond. We also must receive the call to “prepare the way of the Lord” and “make his paths straight”. John the Baptist speaks to us, and not just to those who were with him at that time.

So, how do we prepare the way of the Lord? How do we make his paths straight? In view of John’s message of repentance, it seems appropriate to say that repentance is the means by which this is accomplished. Without repentance - without the changing of our minds from worldly concerns and priorities to heartfelt obedience to Jesus - then the path of the Messiah remains a worn, uneven rut. But, when our minds are set on things above, then his path to us becomes smooth and straight, well prepared for King Jesus to travel along. And as Jesus travels towards us along the prepared way, he comes to reign over us.

It is in this way - the way of repentance - that we enter the kingdom: the dynamic, active, living rule of God.