Extremes (2)

(Am doing "devotionals" at my job on ba

sic Protestant doctrine. Thought I'd blog them as well.)

"See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil." -Deuteronomy 30:15

"Christianity got over the difficulty of combining furious opposites, by keeping them both, and keeping them both furious." -GK Chesterton

Last week I suggested that American Christianity has weakened itself by blunting its sharp edges and turning a religion of remarkable extremes into a comfortable world-view with hazy definitions. Consider the following common biblical dichotomies that are so extreme they are opposites:

Heaven--hell, Life--death, Light--darkness, Freedom--bondage, Holiness--depravity, Grace--wrath

Consider, also, that God Himself is an extreme paradox. The fathers described Him as "Three Persons in One Essence." Was God one God? Absolutely. Was God three Persons? Absolutely. Was God three Gods? No. Was God one God with three personal manifestations? No. Do the members of the Trinity add up to one God? No. Each one is fully God, not a third of God. Chesterton was right. The church believed that God was one, and God was three, and believed both furiously; or we might say, extremely.

This God, in turn, reveals extremes in His attributes. He is absolutely just and unbending in His insistence that no law in His universe, moral or physical, can be broken without serious consequences. His reaction to lawlessness is anger. He is also loving, and carries out an incredible program to meet the demands of His own justice, called simply, the cross.

The person of Jesus is a combination of extremes. He claimed to be God. He did miracles like God. He forgave sins like God. The high priest of His own religion was so appalled by this claim that he sought and achieved His death. Yet a hardened Roman executioner called Him God, solely on the basis of watching the way He died.

He also referred to Himself as the Son of Man. He was born in a hovel. He ate and drank with the poor and the marginalized. He went to weddings and parties. He was hungry and thirsty. He grew tired. He bled and knew pain. He cried over the death of a good friend. He understood temptation--the worst being to use His divine power to circumvent the plan of God--and overcame it. The church Fathers stated it philosophically: "(Christ is) perfect in Godhead and also perfect in manhood, truly God and truly man, of a rational soul and body; consubstantial with the Father according to the Godhead, and consubstantial with us according to the Manhood..." (Creed of Chalcedon). And, again as Chesterton reminded is, the church believed that confession furiously, extremely.

Lastly, think about inner, subjective Christian experience. My pastor likes to sum up the Christian life with two phrases: "You are more evil than you know, and you are more loved than you know." Christians understand the tension of these extremes. Love and grace are like lights that shine on the darkness within. The more we experience them, the more we comprehend our own depravity. And the knowledge of depravity drives us to grace and love.

The cycle goes deeper and deeper, or if you prefer, higher and higher. Christians never stop changing. And one thing becomes obvious: Christianity is not a comfortable cup of latte, or the warm fuzzies we get at the church picnic. It's extreme, and like all extremes, it stretches us. To quote CS Lewis: "Love's as hard as nails." Next: The Story Behind the Story