The Truth Is Out There—Living with Unanswered Questions, Part 3

In my last post I noted that my questions often leave me perplexed, and even confused. But I’m not in despair.

Like Mulder of the X-Files, I believe “The truth is out there.”

That doesn’t mean that I will find it; but I’m sure going to try. I’m on a quest, and this quest has led me to try to puzzle out this world, and in the process to study theology, philosophy, and the Bible—as well as to take human experience seriously.

The Need for Faith

I’ve found that the quest for truth requires two things.

First, it requires a certain faith. You have to believe that it is a worthwhile quest and that you won’t come to the edge of the world and fall off; you won’t fall into the unknown, never to return. This means that the fearless quest for truth—motivated by doubt, by what you don’t know—is nevertheless undergirded by trust or faith. (Is this faith in God? It is at least faith in the trustworthiness of reality.) The quest for truth (to use Augustine’s idea, made famous by Anselm) is “faith seeking understanding.”

However, there is no guarantee that throughout this quest for understanding your faith will remain unchangeably the same. Hopefully it will deepen and become more mature.

The Need for Humility

The other thing the quest for truth requires is the humility to realize we don’t have all the answers, and might never find all the answers. There are no guarantees for success in the quest.

Plus, we could always be wrong—in anything we currently believe. This is not a matter of psychological doubt (of actually doubting any particular belief), but simply the logical possibility of being wrong. There is no belief that I currently hold that is strictly “indubitable,” that I can’t doubt, that isn’t subject to the possibility of change.

Of course, I would need to be shown (in a manner that convinces me) that I need to change my belief on a particular matter. But I have to be open to that, in principle.

The Problem with Fundamentalism

The alternative to acknowledging the possibility of being wrong is fundamentalism.

Fundamentalism isn’t a matter of any particular beliefs, but rather a way of holding to beliefs. A person who doesn’t actually think they could possibly be wrong (not that they are wrong, that they could ever be wrong)—that person won’t give another person’s viewpoint the time of day. They might even believe the other person has no right to their beliefs, since they contradict what is obviously true.

Fundamentalists of a philosophical type (typically called foundationalists) tend to label people they disagree with as irrational. I’ve met such people and been so labeled (when I was in grad school).

Fundamentalists of a political or religious type tend to regard people they disagree with as evil. In its mild form, such people are thought to have ulterior motives; in its extreme form, they are “of the devil.” I’ve encountered religious fundamentalists and had the latter phrase applied to me (by a prominent church leader, in public).

Given the problems of fundamentalism, I’m fine with the possibility of being wrong; I’m even fine with doubt.

I’ll talk about the positive role of doubt in my next post.

Was Abraham’s Attempt to Sacrifice Isaac a Faithful Response to God?

In my last post I mentioned that I had just attended the 2014 Congress of Humanities and Social Sciences, at Brock University, in St. Catharines, ON, Canada.

One of the academic societies I participated in was the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies, where I presented a paper on Genesis 22, known in Jewish tradition as the Aqedah or “binding” of Isaac (Abraham “bound” [‘aqad] Isaac and placed him on the altar; Gen 22:9). I titled my paper (somewhat ironically): “Unbinding the Aqedah from the Straightjacket of Tradition.”

The gist of my paper was that contrary to traditional readings in both Judaism and Christianity, we should not understand Abraham’s response as a paradigm of virtue. Rather, I argued that Abraham’s response of blind obedience to the command to sacrifice his son was sub-par. It was better than outright disobedience. But a truly faithful response would have been to follow the example of the lament psalms (and Job) by questioning God, even protesting that this command wasn’t right.

Central to my argument was the fact that Abraham had previously (in Gen 18) protested the possibility that God might destroy Sodom, despite the fact that there were righteous/innocent people living there (the Hebrew word tsadîq can mean either). Whereas Abraham’s motive for that protest was the fact that his nephew Lot and his family were living in Sodom, it is strange that when God tells him to offer up his own son as a burnt offering, Abraham’s silence is deafening. He says nothing whatsoever (he certainly does not protest the death of this innocent victim), but blindly moves to obey—and has to be stopped in the act by an angel calling from heaven: “Abraham, Abraham! . . . don’t do anything to the boy!”

It is also significant that the text reports that Abraham returned to his servants and that they went off together, but that Isaac is not mentioned at the end of the story (Gen 22:19). Also significant is that Isaac is then reported as living in a different geographical location from Abraham (and Sarah is living elsewhere, by the way), and father and son never again see each other. This is why the subtitle of my paper was: “How Abraham Lost His Son.”

In the end, I argue that the test (“God tested Abraham”; Gen 22:1) was not whether Abraham would obey. Rather, what was being tested was Abraham’s discernment of the character of God. Was this a God of mercy or a deity just like one of the other ancient Near Eastern gods who required child sacrifice?

Well, there’s a lot more to be said (and the paper says more, and even recognizes the arguments against this interpretation). But this should give you the gist of what I presented. I am presently expanding the paper and preparing it for publication.

What’s your response to this interpretation of Genesis 22? Do you find it jarring? Or does it resonate with you? Why?

The Canadian Evangelical Theological Association

I just returned from the 2014 annual meeting of the Canadian Evangelical Theological Association (CETA), which was part of the Congress of Humanities and Social Sciences, held at Brock University, in St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada. The Congress is an annual meeting of about 80 academic societies and it moves around to a different Canadian university each year.

The CETA meeting was held on May 25 and there were eight excellent papers on topics ranging from violence in the Bible, to the (im)mutability of God, using jazz as a metaphor to understand the church’s mission, and the application of trauma studies to the Hagar narrative in Genesis 16. The meeting was marked by a wonderful sense of collegiality between graduate students, new graduates, and senior scholars. For a schedule of papers and abstracts, click here.

A particular highlight of the CETA meeting was the presence of J. Gerald Janzen (professor emeritus in Old Testament at Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis, who was born in Saskatchewan). Janzen gave a brilliant paper on Paul’s thorn in the flesh. Not only did his gentle manner and stunning intertextual reading of the New Testament, the Old Testament, and evidence from Hellenistic literature convince those in attendance about the meaning of Paul’s “thorn,” but the paper had profound practical implications for living with under the sign of the cross.

I also gave my “exaugural” address as outgoing president of CETA (yes, that really is a word; the opposite of inaugural). I’ve had the privilege of being president of CETA for the past three years, and I took the opportunity to give a brief history of the organization (including the  rationale for its founding in 1990). I also highlighted some of CETA’s exciting recent initiatives (such as a peer-reviewed journal and an annual Fall conference that moves around to different theological schools). And I shared my vision for the future of CETA. The text of the presidential address is available here.

CETA’s journal, the Canadian Theological Review, is actively soliciting articles and book reviews, which may address any area of theology—including biblical studies, systematic theology, historical theology, practical/pastoral theology, and philosophical theology. Information for contributors can be found here.

CETA will be having its next Fall conference in Toronto, at Wycliffe College on October 18, 2014 and a call for papers will be going out soon.