From Marvin Wilson’s Our Father Abraham:
Jewish anthropologist Raphael Patai has observed that because the Hebrews liked the concrete and tended to avoid the abstract, the idea of doctrinal formulation was alien to their mind. In Hebrew thought the essence of true godliness is tied primarily to a relationship, not a creed. . . .For the Hebrews, personal or individual relationship has always been far more expressive of the heart of religious faith than mere intellecttual assent to abstract statements or religious ideas. pg. 138.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever fully recover from the idea that what God cares about most is what I “believe” about certain propositional statements. It’s true that we can’t do enough good works to earn our salvation. But how many wrong/bad beliefs does it take to condemn us?
Telling Stories, Asking Questions, Learning Lessons
Responding to the quote…
Isn’t it interesting that many folks complain that the emergent way of thinking is too abstract…
I guess the definitions of “concrete” and “abstract” need context too, eh?
I heard one Jewish rabbi on the radio talking about the doctrine of salvation as Jewish people think about it. He said that it was really quite simple. Heaven was being close to God and hell was being far from God. If you are close to God in this life, the you get a taste of heaven. If you live far from God in this life then you get a taste of hell. The after-life is simply an extension of your experience on this earth.
This makes salvation less of an abstract idea and more of a concrete, relational concept.
I guess I think of all Hebrews like the Pharisees. Perhaps this major difference was the thing Jesus was so angry about. I would hate to think that my bad/wrong ideals would condemn me. I would be NOTHING without grace!
Two thoughts – and many other that make no sense – came to mind after reading this. First, I find it intersting that there should be some sort of seperation of theology and relationship. After all, theology is in essence our thoughts about God. The way we think about God effects the way we relate to Him. If we think Him to be wise, we will rely on His wisdom. If we think Him to be dull, we won’t rely on Him for anything. It seems that there can be no relationship with God separate from our thoughts about Him. (I suppose I could be getting doctrine mixed up with theology, but they do tend to blend into each other. Where do we draw the line between doctrine and theology? That might be an important avenue to explore.)
My second thought is that the men, and for all we know, women, who wrote the Scriptures on which so much of our doctrine is dependant upon, were people of great relationship with God. In fact, it could be said that without their relationship with God, their writings would never have come about, for it is through their relationship with God that their thoughts about God developed.
Theology and relationship, it seems, exist in a wonderful mutual dependancy in which one feeds into the other on a continual basis.
Okay, a third thought came to mind. Perhaps doctrines about God center around how God works rather than God’s character. For example, issues of baptism is a favorite discussion between us. How does God use baptism in the redemption process? That issue probably beyond us and probably does nothing to advance our theology and/or relationship.
“But how many wrong/bad beliefs does it take to condemn us?”
I have wondered something similar — we believe God’s mercy covers moral error. Do we believe it covers errors of the intellect?
As an educator, I’ve wonderd about this issue of errors of intellect as it relates to relationship with God. It seems that there are some who just are not capable of thinking deeply about much of anthing and therefor have some “wrong” beliefs about God. I tend to think that God’s mercy covers that. How can the finite mind of man fully comprehend the greatness of infinite God? He can’t. Mercy spreads into this shortcomming as well.
I have always firmly believed that what is essential to understand about God and about the difference between right and wrong is very simple. It does not require great intellect, average intellect, or even much abstract thought. Its core can be grasped and lived just as well by a relatively young child or a mentally disabled person as it can by an accomplished theologian with a string of PhDs.
It’s one of the reasons Forrest Gump is among my favorite movies. It doesn’t take a smart man to know what love is.