Thoughts on the 5th of July

“This is the greatest nation on the earth.” I heard that a number of times last night. And as a citizen of a country other than the aforementioned greatest country on earth, such a statement always sounds a little harsh. But I suppose that it is fair: America is an incredible nation, with international influence, extensive might, and an average standard of living that ranks high above most, if not every, country that currently exists or has ever existed.

I guess the real reason that such a statement rings in my ears is my familiarity with ancient mythology. In ancient mythology, the most classic motif, and also the most deadly, is hubris—proclaiming oneself to be in a better station in life than one really is. It was commonly an action of a mortal who claimed to be better than a god in some way or another. The end result was that the god would appear, show that he or she was far superior, and then kill or curse the mortal in a fitting way that would serve as a lesson to all.

            As far as the statements spoken all across this country yesterday, are they hubristic? Yes and no. In one sense, they are not: America isn’t claiming anything that isn’t arguably true—it is a pretty great nation. In another sense, it is hubris, because there is a sense in which a declaration can be hubristic if it is somewhat true but ignores major factors in the process. For instance, the proclamation from a mythological king that his is the greatest country on the earth could be hubristic, not because it is untrue, but because it fails to recognize from where that greatness comes.

            Now this is Texas, and three things were a part of this 4^th of July celebration (and I would assume most celebrations in Texas): the Star Spangled Banner, Deep in the Heart of Texas, and God Bless America. I actually heard plenty about ‘God bless America’—a lot more than I would have heard at celebrations in other parts of the country. But here’s the interesting thing: there are two statements—‘God bless America’ and ‘America is the greatest,’ but the connection between the two is vague and often nonexistent.

            A mythological king under the patronage of Poseidon who proclaimed that his nation was the greatest and then asked that Poseidon bless his city, with no mention of how his city got to be the greatest (by prior blessing of Poseidon) would be liable to lose his capital city to a Poseidon-induced tidal wave in short order. What about America? Is America professing her own greatness, and asking God to bless her, without accepting or proclaiming that it is God who has made her great? If you asked most people at that festival last night, many of the ones who cheered and clapped at the phrase ‘God bless America’ would tell you that America is great because it has hardworking people, dedicated military, etc. God’s blessing would be further down the list, if it appeared at all. But at the end of the day, I as a Christian must confess that it is God who not only can bring blessing in the future (as many are willing to admit, it would seem) but has also brought blessing in the past (as fewer, it would seem, are willing to admit.)

            What do we as Christians do then, when the nation which we live in and love is standing on its pinnacle and proclaiming that it is the greatest, and beseeching God to turn an eye to its future without realizing that its tendency to fail to accept God’s prior provision—rather taking such blessing as its own work—might well lead it to suffer something less than blessing from God? On the one hand, we could simply ignore it, accepting that I have it right and most people have it wrong, and so long as I’m in the right, everything is OK. That would be easier—it’d certainly be easier for me! Saying the pledge of allegiance in America is probably some minor level of treason on my part. So sticking my head in the sand would be easy (and perhaps justifiable).

            But if we really do love this country as much as we say we do, and if we really do profess that we desire to maintain the American way of life (which might need some adjusting as well…) so that future generations can enjoy the freedom and standard of living which we enjoy, then we have to work to protect that way of life. We sing salutes to soldiers who we say are protecting that way of life for us and trying to lead others to such a way of life throughout the world. So perhaps we at home should be willing to do the same thing, knowing full well that life as we know it in America, blessed as it is, comes only because of God’s favor extended to this nation, and if this nation would have any hope of seeing ‘God bless America’ in the future, they need to be willing to accept that God blessed America in the past and they need to work to make a nation that is less undeserving of God’s national blessings.

Fun Facts about American Patriotism from a mildly sarcastic Canadian:

On-board a military vessel is 'sovereign territory' and for all intents and purposes is considered the soil of the country which owns that ship. So although penned by an American author, watching an American flag fly over an American fort, the Star Spangled Banner was written on British soil.

While the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4^th, 1776, the war for independence began on April 19, 1775 with the battles at Lexington and Concord.

The popular song This Land is Your Land was written as an antagonistic response to God Bless America by a communist-friendly songwriter.

Martin Van Buren was the first American president who was born as an American citizen, and he was inaugurated in 1837.

My Country, ‘Tis of Thee, although written by an American, uses the tune of God Save the Queen, the British national anthem (and Canadian royal anthem).

In 1812, America launched a war against Britain due to tensions between America and Britain and the American expansionist dream. The British repelled various American attempts to take British territory and succeeding pushing into the Chesapeake Bay and burning Washington D.C. With the Treaty of Ghent in 1818, the Americans lost their first war, failing to wrest any territory from the control of the British military and the local militia who would later form the country known as Canada.

Genesis 1:1--"In the beginning God created...": Is that right?

Many Christians have memorized, often unwittingly, the very first verse of the Bible: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” It has been ingrained in the collective mind of Christianity for centuries and has, in recent times, come to represent the firm belief that God created everything in the universe out of nothing (creatio ex nihilo). I am not here to challenge that belief. What I am here to challenge is the current typical English translation of the Hebrew for Genesis 1:1-3.

I could list out various translation choices for Genesis 1:1 in some of the more popular English translations, but that would be pointless. Almost any translation you can think of (NIV, ESV, ASV, NASB, NLT, KJV, NKJV, etc.) translates it as: “In the beginning God created the heaven(s) and the earth.” The only mainstream translation to offer a variant of any significance is Young’s Literal Translation (YLT), which reads: “In the beginning of God’s preparing the heavens and the earth.”

Now one (or two) of two things might strike you upon reading the YLT translation: one, the translation doesn’t seem that ultimately different. Two, how did the translators get to that translation? I shall answer the second question first, as a way of getting around to answering the first question.

Here’s how one gets that translation: the initial word in the Hebrew text is the word breshit, pronounced “bray-sheet,” followed by bara, then elohim. Traditionally, these three words, translated in order, would be: “in the beginning, he created, God…” (with the subject following the verb as is standard in Hebrew). But the word of interest here is the first word, breshit. This word as we see it here is a compound word, a combining of a noun and a preposition. The simple preposition b, meaning “in” is combined with the noun reshit—“beginning” to create the ultimate form. But you may notice something even now. The word is missing the definite article, the simple word “the;” if it had the definite article, the form of the word would be bareshit (pronounced “baa-ray-sheet”), but that is not what we have here, so the translation of breshit at this point would simply be “in a beginning.” But we know that this is not “a” beginning but “the” beginning—not just some beginning, but the original beginning of all things. So how do we get the definite article? Can we imply it? In a sense we can.

In Hebrew it is common to have two or more nouns in something called a “construct chain.” These two words imply a certain level of possession, so that we translate it with the word “of.” So if two nouns were side-by-side in Hebrew, such as the noun melek (king) and the noun yisrael (Israel) then the translation of melek yisrael would be “king of Israel.” Another rule in Hebrew is that if two nouns are in a construct chain, they do not have to contain the definite article in order to actually be definite. In other words, melek yisrael can be translated as “king of Israel,” “the king of Israel,” “king of the Israel,” or “the king of the Israel.” In context we can rule out the second two as nonsensical, but it isn’t certain which of the first two it is.

Now while this construction most often occurs with two nouns, it can occasionally happen where the last noun in the construct chain, the one that everything else modifies, is actually a verb and not a noun. This is the case here in Genesis 1:1—the noun breshit is in construct with the verb bara. So the combination of the words would be “in the beginning of he created.” Well, that makes no sense at all. However, one way to understand the verb at hand is to understand it simply in terms of the thing done and the person doing it, i.e., a creative act upon the part of God. So try this translation: “In the beginning of a creative act upon the part of God.” Well, that’s still not very good English, so here’s the translation of my Hebrew professor, a world-acclaimed Hebrew language scholar: “In the beginning of God’s creating the heavens and the earth,” or even “When God began to create the heavens and the earth.”

So why does this difference matter? Well, what it means is that verses 1 and 2 are setting the stage for the first real action in the story which we only find at the beginning of verse 3. So if a translation were appropriately taking into account this feature of the Hebrew it would look like this:

“1. In the beginning of God’s creating the heaven and the earth, 2. the earth was formless and void, and the Spirit of God was circling over the water. 3. And God said: “let there be light,” and there was light.”

In this structure, verses 1 and 2 are like the words on-screen at the beginning of Star Wars movies which simply set the scene and then segue into the first action of the storyline, which we find in Genesis 1:3.

If we hold the original translation then it seems like the first action of God in creation is found in verse 1: “…God created the heavens and the earth.” But in reality, that’s not what the text says; rather, the text says that the first act of God in creation, and really the first thing regarding the universe, is in verse 3: “God said: ‘let there be light,’ and there was light.” So the first creative act of God is that God created light.

Now you might wonder what the implications of that are. Well I’ll tell you. I don’t know. I really don’t know what the implications of that are, though I’m sure scholars have postulated any number of things. But although I can’t make any statements about what the value is of knowing that ‘God created light’ is the first act in the Bible, at least now I have brought out that particular point and perhaps further thought and discussion will bring out some of its practical value or allow you to see things in a new light.

You Can Call Me YHWH

Exodus 3:13-15

Then Moses said to God, “If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” And he said, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” God also said to Moses, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘The LORD, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever, and thus I am to be remembered throughout all generations.

Perhaps you know the history of the name of God in the Old Testament (OT): throughout the OT, God is most commonly referred to in one of two ways—both of them reflected in this passage. The first way is in the use of the generic term “elohim,” which is typically translated “God.” The second way in which God is referred to is by the proper name of God: “YHWH” with the consonants pronounced Yahweh and translated as “the LORD” throughout the OT. In the history of its use, it eventually became taboo to speak the name YHWH (although it was spoken by many of the figures in the OT and its being spoken was perhaps not completely outlawed until 70 AD). Given the sacredness of the name YHWH and the commandment not to take the name of the LORD in vain the Israelites figured that it would be safest not to say it all, so when they encountered YHWH in writing they would simply read “adonai” (Lord).

So that’s a very brief history of the use of the proper name of God in the OT. Now we go to our text above since it is the passage where the given name of God is expressed. Moses says to God: “what can I call you?” And God’s response is that he is defined not by a name but by a quality—by the quality of complete self-existence: “I AM WHO I AM” or simply “I AM.” This is his identity—his overarching, ‘this is who I am, I am this to everyone’ kind of answer. But God isn’t done. He adds something more, something special, unique, and expressly covenantal: “The LORD” or more notably “YHWH.” It’s like someone saying to you: “I’m the most important person in the world, but because you and I are in a covenant, you can call me Richard.”

Christians, in similar vein as the Israelites, rarely actually use the name YHWH. Much of this comes from an attempt to try and avoid offending Jews, who believe that it is blasphemy to say “YHWH.” However, this decision isn’t exactly Biblical; in fact, the principle behind it is exactly the kind of legalism which Paul says that we as Christians no longer need to worry about. And if we’re worrying about blasphemy in the eyes of Judaism, we’d also have to stop claiming that Jesus is the proverbial “Son of Man,” we’d have to stop talking about God as triune, and we wouldn’t say that Jesus is the Son of God. (Although there certainly are times to hold this consideration in mind.)

And yet, despite the ultimate invalidity of this concern, we still never refer to God by the name that he gave to his covenant people; rather we refer to him by terms about him. It’d be like never referring to someone by their actual name but rather by their character, relationships, actions, etc. We do it so thoroughly that it has been written into the text of almost every Bible that we use, where the proper name of God is simply translated “the LORD.” We have had no choice in the matter—no one has discussed whether to translate it “YHWH,” it is simply constantly “the LORD.”

So now you may ask why this matters; well, take Psalm 42/43 (they were likely one Psalm originally): this Psalm is a swirling, chaotic, explanation of a troubling time which uses the term “God” all throughout. Yet there in the middle of the Psalm at verse 8, acting as a place of firm footing, is an expression of the endless love of God and in this one instance, the Psalmist uses the name YHWH. So as a point of hermeneutic interest, you can see how the use of the specific term in this one verse instead of the general term found through the rest of the Psalm calls attention to this particular verse, highlighting the importance of a steadfast foundation upon the covenantal God YHWH.

While tipping my hat to the concerns about the offensive nature of the use of the term YHWH, I must confess that I have serious objections to not referring to God by his name. For one thing, there’s the simple awkwardness of referring to God without using his proper name even though he specifically gave it to his covenant people (whom we as Christians are). On another level, one of the questions hermeneutics asks is not simply “what is said,” but “why might it be said that way instead of another (perhaps more intuitive) way.” And the use of YHWH instead of elohim offers perhaps more insight throughout the OT on that level than any other possibility out there. So why do we ignore it? Why do we allow translation committees to simply decide for us that we ought not to concern ourselves with this? God gave a covenant name to his covenant people and throughout Scripture it is used to remind people of the covenant nature of Israel’s relationship with God. Shouldn’t we, as people of the new covenant with God, also use the covenant name of God when we speak in covenant contexts?

The Danger of Seeking Truth in Science

Much is made within the traditional Christian community of the dangers of getting too deep into science—of being overly influenced by it. But I would contend that it is not that scientific study or the findings of the scientific community are inherently dangerous, but rather that reliance upon the findings of the scientific community as worldview-definition is unavoidably dangerous. As a means of defining worldview, the findings of science are bleak, narrow, and harsh—void of any intrinsic meaning, purpose, light, or care; they are the very definition of what we would call “inhumane”—principles which would be abhorrent to apply in practical ways to the life of one’s pet kitten but which are applied to humanity nonetheless, at least in theory. To base the foundation of one’s life on findings which uphold the principle that all life exists solely to live and die while acting out a simple desire for self-definition at any cost is the ultimate crime to collective humanity—a crime which will drive it into its proverbial grave.

If you think that the majority of the Western world is post-Modern and has moved beyond the modern reliance on the scientific community as the source of most, if not all, ultimate answers, I challenge you to ask those on the street what knowledge is and listen to them talk about data, facts, academic experts, and unbiased principles. The reliance on the modern scientific community for final answers is still the majority Western worldview, but is that the fact that the dominant Western worldview comes with more problems than answers. This is evidenced, in a way, by the fact that few people actually live their lives in this manner—they realize how unhelpful it is as a worldview, but they claim it for lack of a better alternative. After all, how many people for whom the source of answers about the purpose of life is the findings of the scientific community really live their lives as true utilitarians—crushing or throwing aside any who might impose upon their self-definition? Or to say it another way is to say it the same way: how many people carry a 9mm to execute any who threatens their project to immortalize themselves through accomplishment, propagation, and the production of famous and large artifacts?

On the surface, science attempts to answer the basic human drive towards immortality by justifying life as the scrabbling attempt to self-define—from the struggles of mating mantises to the struggle to build enduring monuments of stone and steel. It gives to humans the right to fight—by any means necessary—to say in an undeniable voice for centuries and millennia: “this is me, I am immortal, and nothing you can do will erase that.” From a purely scientific standpoint, those who ordered the building of the pyramids are those who reached the pinnacle in some sense: they found a way to immortalize themselves, carving their names into the very stone of time. Or consider the one who commissioned the Great Wall of China, a monument which is written on the earth so as to be seen from space. Did they not write their mark on the planet—the permanent medium of the ages? Yet all it takes is a few ill-placed explosive devices and the monuments are gone.

The film Citizen Kane tells the tale of a man who built a financial empire and with his wealth created buildings, institutions, and projects rivaling any before him. Yet death came. And with death his legacy began to be questioned and torn down, and the one thing which he wished to have with him at death above even his own legacy unto immortality was lost to him. When I contemplate such things, the words of a song from Don Francisco come to mind:

Rome is full of ruins, Babylon is gone

The Temple’s just a memory, that some still dwell upon

But deep within a place that sword and veil had once denied

The Tree of Life is growing, living waters flow beside.

A human seeks immortality as a response to the inevitability of death, and a worldview based on pure scientific study claims that it is acceptable—and even accurate to one’s nature—to strive for immortality at any cost, whether by building pyramids, starting a family legacy, forging an empire, creating fine works of art, or becoming fabulously wealthy. But the simple fact of the matter is that any attempt in this direction is a lie unto oneself. Even the finest works which attempt at immortality can be eradicated: wealth is lost, art is consumed, empires fall, families are swept away, and pyramids are torn down or eradicated.

I stood on the Acropolis at Sparta and looked out over the surrounding ruins. The Spartan Empire, the scourge of the Aegean Sea—known for their power, ruthlessness, and ability to create a society of martial dominance—is gone. Almost nothing remains. But as I stood there and looked, the sun was setting over snow-capped mountains, and I realized that all that remains of a society which attempted to breed immortality into its DNA is the view that they had from their front door, a view which was neither created nor sustained by them.

I’ve watched some post-apocalyptic movies where even the beauty of God’s created world is muted, along with the works of man—the sun was darkened, plants killed, water licked up. And even today, in many ways and places, humans have consumed, by folly and self-absorption, the beauty of the created world. Yet even that cannot kill the truth that:

Far beyond all human reason and words upon a page

His glory lightens all who fret their hour upon this stage

To know Him is our freedom, to hear Him is release
To fix your heart and soul on Him is rest and perfect peace

A worldview that is based purely upon the findings of the scientific community is futile. It is bleak, narrow, and meaningless, and though it may take death to impart the reality, living by its principles will never reach immortality. Yet it is the dominant secular Western worldview—the way that humans seek to fight the inevitability of death and to create immortality.

But immortality is only to be grasped in the Tree of Life and in knowing Christ and his glory as our light, our freedom, our release, and our perfect peace. And our mission to those who attempt to find ultimate truth and escape from mortality in scientific study is not to replace scientific study as a source of truth but to replace it as a source of ultimate truth. Our mission to them (which is part of our greater mission) is to tell people that the immortality they seek is never stored up in earth, “where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal,” but in heaven, “where moth and rust do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal.”

(The lyrics mentioned in this essay come from Still Your Soul in Silence by Don Francisco. This song, like all of his songs, is available free for download from his website: http://www.rockymountainministries.org/membersite.html)

Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus: A Response

I felt the need to respond to a video that appears to have become popular in the internet world as of late:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IAhDGYlpqY

So here's a few thoughts:

He didn't seem to be doing too poorly until he got to the part where he called religion "the infection." He's operating under the assumption that the organized religion of Christianity is a human institution, which, for the sake of argument, I can agree with, although I tend to believe that God can support and bless the work of humans as he has done in many times and in many places with the Christian religion.

But assuming his stance, he still fails on another point: he is assuming that his loving Jesus somehow comes unmediated through humanity. His loving of Jesus, just as the Christian religion's attempt to faithfully be the body of Christ, comes through humans, making both streams potentially impure. However, the benefit of having the background of the religion is that now you're working with 2000 years and billions of people who can act as boundaries to guide you--something you don't get in the same helpful measure when you distance yourself from organized religion and make it about 'you and Jesus.'

On another note, he makes it seem like there is no value whatsoever in the motions of religion, which, although such motions will not save, they are beneficial in places within the order of salvation. And I would direct him (or others) to James K. A. Smith's discussion of "liturgies" in his book Desiring the Kingdom to better get at some of that.

It's really a case of his misunderstanding what religion fundamentally is from a Christian standpoint; his definition of "Jesus is God searching for man and religion is man searching for God" is simply flawed. It is an accurate secular definition of religion but it is not accurate (or should not be considered accurate) from the standpoint of a Christian. A better Christian definition of religion as far as a Christian is concerned (and I could write papers, books, etc. on this, so don't push it too much) is that it is a Christian response to the grace of Christ.

His claim that organized religion is a human product is accurate, but it is accurate at the same level at which we say the Bible is a human product. God designed it, God ordained it, and God has had his hands in many parts of it. There are parts that the human hand is pretty obvious, and it doesn't end well, so we tread with caution and do our best to parse out what is worth keeping and what isn't. But that means we fight to find the right and the wrong in the Bible (and in organized religion), not completely throw it out.

Finally, his claim that Christ's cry "it is finished" is a little confusing and though I can't say exactly where he took it, the implications are a little problematic. As far as I can tell, it seems to imply, given the previous content, that the need for organized religion is gone. Well, people haven't changed in their need for organization because Jesus died on the cross; at least, I don't think "need for organization" made it into any discussions pertaining to atonement. And in another direction, if we think of Christians as the kingdom of God upon the earth, we generally speak of an "already, but not yet" kingdom, and if you choose to take his statement this direction, he would be implying that it is simply an "already" kingdom.

My older brother Luke once said: "Giving up on religion to follow Jesus is like giving up on marriage to love your wife." If you absolutely have to parse it out, there's one that is more important and more critical than the other. But if you're in a position of needing to divide the two, then you're doing one of the two--or more likely both of them--wrong in some form or another. If your marriage is getting in the way of you loving your wife, then it is true, loving your wife is more important the marriage; but it's also true that you have a misconception of loving your wife and a misconception of marriage if your marriage hinders you loving your wife. Similarly, if Christian religion is getting in the way of you loving Christ then, technically speaking, loving Christ is more important. But practically speaking, you are probably misunderstanding both what it means to love Jesus in this world and what the Christian religion is if you think you can somehow separate the two.

I guess the best I can say is that it appears that the baby was in the bathwater on this one and is now floundering in the yard with the soap suds; someone should probably go and retrieve him...

Sexuality in the Church

We are all heirs to an ancestral estate, and in many cases, we reap the fruit of the misdeeds which our parents and grandparents sowed. An excellent example of this in today’s culture is in the world of sexuality and the manner in which Christians act towards sex and sexuality, a manner which I would maintain is deeply—and in some critical ways dangerously—affected by the actions of the earlier generation.

Since the 1920’s in the USA, with its joys of prosperity, its inheritance from first-wave feminism, and its freedom of physical expression in dress and dance, sexuality in American culture has increasingly become a prominent feature in the public square. This process gained momentum by many factors, including the freedom of the post-WWII era, second-wave feminism, free divorce laws, the expansion of film and television, and the rise of the internet. This is not to say that any or all of these things are evil, or are the source of evil, or that even freedom from sexual repression is bad. (In fact, my argument is that openness to sexuality is a good thing, just not in the form we find it in the secular world.)

The Christian response to this was to shut it out and shut up. The Church assumed that if they simply ignored with enough force they could keep unfettered sexual license out of the Church. If they could abstain from making sexuality in any way public, then they could avoid any misuse of it. (And in this we hear echoes of medieval ideology that sex was only ever to be used for procreation along with Pauline sentiments—accurately understood or not—that sex was for those too weak to control their bodily desires.) So in short, the Church stuck its head in the sand and left it there for the last century or so. And for many in the Church, the head is still in the sand.

But if one pulls their head up and looks around, they will realize that the project was a failure. For one thing, the world did not take any cues from the Church (ignorance, it would seem, is not a strong witness to the truth). Rather the secular world continued on the track it was on and even gained momentum. Massive industries are built upon sexual aberrations and the consumer market runs its advertising on the glorification of hyper-sexuality. And even within the members of the Church we see bad sexuality: the marriage bed is not kept pure, people are sexually abused, and clergy are revealed (like many of their parishioners) to have a serious struggle with and addiction to pornography.

But the issues that arise in the Church because of the head-in-the-sand mentality concerning sexuality go deeper than a failure to fix the problem. The Church has also managed to come with a few problems all its own as a result of this mentality. For one, the Church does not talk about sex. It’s a naughty word and a dangerous topic so the Church leaves it alone. But this kind of a response creates a “baby-and-the-bathwater” scenario. By throwing out the bathwater of bad sexuality the Church has thrown out the baby of good sexuality.

What do I mean by this? Well, let me get at it this way: how many of you had “The Talk” at some point in your late childhood or early adolescence? Most of you had something like that, along with some discussion of the morals of sexuality. But for how many of you did your parents ever again sit you down and talk to you about sex? How about the first time you went on a date? When you brought a girl/guy home for the first time? When you got engaged? Before you got married? The answer I would expect to most of these questions is “no.” The reason is that many of the people I know, like myself, are products of the baby-boomers; as in we were produced and raised by the baby-boomers. And the Christians of the baby-boomer generation tend to be part of the head-in-the-sand group when it comes to sexuality. What this means is that while there is much talk about what bad sexuality is (and if your parents did speak to you frequently, that was likely the content of the discussion) they rarely get around to what good sexuality is.

Now sex is good. I’m married. I know that. And I know it’s a critical aspect of a happy marriage (a truth gained more by going without sex than by having it). And while I had the benefit when I was engaged of having older siblings who were married to tell me about good sexuality, I would not doubt that there are many who did not have the same sort of assurances prior to marriage. Sure, the Christian community winks and nods when you talk about honeymoon plans, but nobody really talks about it—good or bad. There are few people who will look their child in the eye a month before their wedding and say: “sex is weird and awkward, and first-time sex can be painful and emotionally difficult. But it will get better and it will be worth it.” Everyone who’s had sex knows the truth but few people who know the truth seem very willing to share it.

This may not seem like much of a problem to you. You may be thinking: “why open the floodgates of sexuality just to give a couple of starry-eyed young lovers some help that they’ll figure out on their own and get around to realizing. Besides, they’ll be fine—they’re (pardon my language here, but it fits the mentality) ‘young, dumb, and horny’ and their young love will get around any issues. They’ll be fine.” Really? What kind of a mentality is that! That’s like allowing your child to figure out that the stove is hot by letting him stick his hand on it, in the certainty that it will heal! True, the school of hard knocks rarely teaches lessons that are forgotten, but that does not make it the optimal method of education. And yet that is the mentality with which many people approach sex.

This doesn’t just pertain to honeymoon sex; it also pertains to inter-gender friendships, to dating, to engagement, and to anything else that pertains to romantic interest. How many kids come home with a boy or girl who their parents look at and go “no way is that happening,” and two months later that relationship is broken with deep pain and destroyed friendship, and all that trouble could have been avoided if the parent had said before they sent their kid off to college: “look, there’s this mistake I made in college, and I don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

Or how many awkward situations could be avoided in college if a father would sit his son down and say: “look, of the girls you’ll meet in college and spend a lot of time with, there’s something you should know about them: once a month, for a few days, they’ll be physically and emotionally a little touchy. It might seem weird, but it’s normal, and you’ll make your friendships with them so much better if you are simply aware of that and are sensitive to their needs. As in, that’s a bad time to try to start arguments or bring up grievances. And someday, when you’re married, it will make you a great husband.” How many girls out there would appreciate it if freshmen guys had advice like that coming into dorm life? And wouldn’t the inter-gender friendships be so much deeper for it? So why don’t we do it? Because we don’t talk about sex!

There are still messed-up versions of sexuality in the world. They’re all over—I won’t even bother explaining them, as they are so obvious and common. But the Church’s response to this cannot be to simply stick their fingers in their ears, put blinders on their eyes, and close the doors of their Church. Simply apart from the truth that you can’t hide from the effects of the surrounding world, the Church would not be doing its job if it didn’t try to right the wrongs of the world. The Church needs to change what it’s doing. It cannot continue to hang around with its head in the sand on the matter of sexuality. Bad sexuality is all around the Church, and it can’t even manage to talk about good sexuality within itself, let alone to the rest of the world.

I could give a lengthy proposition as a conclusion, with all the right points. But my point is simple. The Church needs to talk about good sexuality. Why? Because it’s part of a right marriage relationship and because otherwise the bad sexuality of the surrounding world will continue to gain a foothold until it cannot be loosed, even in the Church. So again, my point is simple: talk about good sex—with your kids, your mentors, your mentees, your friends. Talk about good sex.

The Sundering of the Veil

Matthew 27:45-54 (ESV)

Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, “This man is calling Elijah.” And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink. But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.

And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many. When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God!”

The architecture of the Jewish Temple was designed to be sectional, with each successive section of the Temple being closer to God and farther from the world. And as one progressed through the Temple each section became more exclusive. The Temple built by Herod, the Temple of Christ’s day, was designed with five different layers:

1) The Court of the Gentiles, accessible to anyone.

2) The Women’s Court, accessible to any Israelites.

2) The Court of the Israelites, accessible only to male Israelites.

3) The Court of the Pharisees, accessible only to male Levites who ministered before God.

4) The Temple Interior, accessible only to the priests who ministered at certain times and in certain ways.

5) The Holy of Holies, the seat or throne of God, accessible to the High Priest once a year on Yom Kippur to perform priestly duties.

Between the final two sections was a heavy curtain which separated the Temple Interior from the Hole of Holies. This curtain, besides performing the material function of separating the Holy of Holies from the world outside, served to symbolize the separation between God and humans. This separation was bridged only once a year by one person—the High Priest of God.

When Christ was given up as a sacrifice upon the cross, he performed the action of the High Priest—he performed a sacrifice for the people (a sacrifice given in himself) and he entered the Holy of Holies and stood before God as the representative of the people. But Christ, as the eternal and ultimate High Priest (Hebrews 8), did not leave the Holy of Holies and close the curtain behind him, but instead, in his death, rent the curtain from top to bottom. In this Christ symbolized that the distinction between God and humanity was, in him, removed, and all people now have access to the throne of God.

So may the words that I write here bring to light the fact that Christ has bridged the gap, once and for all, between God and humans—between God and the world. May the words you read here show that Christ has established a new covenant (Hebrews 8) in which we have access to God through Christ and his sacrifice and that the sundering of the veil may be a proof of that new covenant.

Consider these lyrics as a way of explaining the giving of the new covenant through Christ, the Lamb of God:

Who am I to be part of your people—the ones that are called by your Name?
Could I be chosen as one of your own, could it be that our blood is the same?
How can a stranger, a remnant of nations, belong to the Royal line?
You showed your grace when the branches were broken and I grafted into the vine.

How could you show me such bountiful mercy by taking the life of the Lamb?
Your love is greater than I can imagine, I bless you with all that I am.
Praise to you Jesus—the veil has been parted, and what once was secret is known.
Now I can cry to you: “Abba, my Father,” and praise you as one of your own.

Baruch Hashem Adonai, baruch Hashem Adonai;
Blessed be the Name of the Lord, baruch Hashem Adonai.