Sunday, 6 January 2013

Faith Seeking Understanding

[NOTICE: This piece must be read as if Anselm himself is speaking. Why is it in this format? Because I wrote it as a monologue, which I also presented at the chapel service of Nazarene Theological College, Manchester, on 17 February 2009.]


My Monologion should actually be entitled An Example of Meditation on the Meaning of Faith, because it is an analytic meditation on the content of faith without reference to the Scriptures. I wrote this in response to my brethren’s request to write down, “as a kind of model meditation,”[1] some of the things I have said about the divine essence. Its method is strictly philosophical: “nothing whatsoever to be argued on the basis of the authority of Scripture, but the constraints of reason concisely to prove, and the clarity of truth clearly to show, in the plain style, with everyday arguments, and down-to-earth dialectic, the conclusions of distinct investigations.”[2] Like in Augustine’s time, my brethren had difficulties in understanding the contents of their faith, and so they were ready to either abandon their faith or abandon their pursuit of the knowledge of God, and so it necessitated me to write something as an example of employing the godly gift of reason to probe deeper into the faith. My basic proposition is that faith is assent to the Truth, which can also be proven and made understandable by the help of the intellect. An example of this endeavour is my ontological argument for the existence of God.

My other book, Proslogion, should also be titled as Faith in Quest of Understanding. In it, rather than propositions of the faith giving the content for a philosophical meditation, the appalling awareness of my own lack of faith drove me to my quest for understanding. Here, though, we must distinguish between the act of faith and the content of faith. I had faith, but I was not able to fully grasp the contents of my faith. And so I wrote:

Come then, Lord my God, teach me where and how to seek You, where and how to find You. Lord, if You are not present here, where, since You are absent, shall I look for You? On the other hand, if You are everywhere why then, since You are present, do I not see You? But surely You dwell in ‘light inaccessible’ [1 Tim. 6: 16]….Never have I seen You, Lord my God, I do not know Your face.[3]

On the other hand, far from divinizing the intellect, we should acknowledge that we cannot, by natural reason alone, comprehend God. This is why, as I stressed in the Proslogion, the proper context for the pursuit of wisdom is prayer and confession. Reason, though helpful, should not be considered as an independent autonomous source of godly wisdom. To believe this otherwise is impiety. Without humility before the truth, and recognition of the priority of faith, there can be no progress in wisdom and understanding. As I wrote in the Proslogion,

I  acknowledge, Lord, and I give thanks that You have created Your image in me, so that I may remember You, think of You, love You. But this image is so effaced and worn away by vice, so darkened by the smoke of sin, that it cannot do what it was made to do unless You renew it and reform it. I do not try, Lord, to attain Your lofty heights, because my understanding is in no way equal to it. But I do desire to understand Your truth a little, that truth that my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand so that I may believe; but I believe so that I may understand. For I believe this also, that ‘unless I believe, I shall not understand’ [Isa. 7: 9].[4]

I would like to comment upon my famous dictum fides quarens intellectum, or in your language today, “faith seeking understanding.” Faith, for me, is more than a volitional assent to propositional truths. Faith is actually more like an epistemic state: it is love for God and a drive to act as God wills. So, when I said “faith seeking understanding,” I meant to say “an active love of God seeking a deeper knowledge of God.” What I am saying is that with the help of reason, one who already loves God will learn even more to desire the knowledge of God.

God of truth I ask that I may receive so that my ‘joy may be complete.’ Until then let 
my mind meditate on it, let my tongue speak of it, let my heart love it, let my mouth 
preach it. Let my soul hunger for it, let my flesh thirst for it, my whole being desire it, 
until I enter into the ‘joy of the Lord’ [Matt. 25:21], who is God, Three in One, ‘blessed 
forever, amen’ [Rom. 1: 25].[5]

Perhaps it is best to conclude this talk with a prayer that I wrote:

            My God,
            I pray that I may know you and love you
                        that I may rejoice in you.
            And if I may not do so fully in this life
                        let me go steadily on the day when I come to that fullness
            Let me receive
                        that which you promised through your truth
                        that my joy may be full.


[1] Anselm, Monologion, trans. Simon Harrison in The Major Works, ed. Brian Davies and G. R. Evans (Oxford: Oxford U. Press, 1998), 5.
[2] Anselm, Monologion, 5.
[3] Anselm, Proslogion, trans. M. J. Charlesworth in The Major Works, 84-85.
[4] Anselm, Proslogion, 87.
[5] Anselm, Proslogion, 104.

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

The Way Forward is Backward

Scripture Reading: Philippians 1:3-6, 9-11 


There is always something exciting about the New Year. A new horizon is spread out in front of us and the prospects of many things can be a source of thrill. Perhaps some of us are even hoping for the New Year because there are exciting plans and events lined up for the year: some of us are planning to go somewhere; some of us are entering new phases in educational achievement; some of us are having babies, or planning to have babies; some of us are expecting to get married; some of us are hoping to get married; and some of us have new work responsibilities. There is also a sense of relief when approaching the New Year. When you have encountered some difficulties in the past year, entering the New Year can be a source of hope, knowing that things can change for the better.

But perhaps for some of us the New Year offers no great promise, or it might mean nothing at all. For some of us, there is no prospect of new jobs, new achievements, better health, more money, and so on. If you belong to this group, the New Year brings nothing but anxiety, for it is quite frustrating to think that nothing new is about to happen in your lives. Of course, to think about the future can also bring about fear, because the future is ultimately an unknown territory. There is an array of possibilities, but let us admit that these possibilities include some frighteningly unfavourable ones. It is this open-endedness of the future that is scary.

This year, in our chapel services at APNTS, we have repeatedly affirmed that “The Lord is our Shepherd.” It is fascinating that the people who usually utter Psalm 23 are people who are experiencing difficulties in the present, or are anticipating challenges in the future. In fact, it can be said that the occasion where most of the utterances of the Psalm is not during average Sunday worship services at church, but during funerals. My suspicion is that even among Christians, in their practical lives and prayers, Psalm 23 only has two redacted verses: “The Lord is my Shepherd… Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me” (23:1, 4). In this way, the Psalm is important to essentially two groups of people: (1) those who are really struggling in the present, and (2) those who are anxious about what the future offers.

What we must emphasize here, however, is not the contemporariness or the future-ness of the affirmation “The Lord is my Shepherd.” Rather, we shall see that Psalm 23 is not only a statement referring to the present or to the future, but is actually also a statement about the past. Here we are going to learn from the profundity of Alain Badiou’s words: “When a step forward is the order of the day, one may, among other things, find assistance in the greatest step back” (St Paul). This manoeuvre and emphasis on the past may sound anti-contextual, considering that we just celebrated the New Year in the Philippines. In fact, sermons preached on the New Year emphasize newness, progress, moving forward, and the like. But the move to step back to the past is important in order for us to better appreciate how we utter Psalm 23 in the is-ness of the present and the mystery of the future.

So how is the statement “The Lord is my Shepherd” a statement about the past? We often forget that the faith is Israel is a combination of the eschatological and the retrospective. It is retrospective because their faith is grounded in remembrance. This is evident in their major festivals. The Pesach (Passover) is celebrated in remembrance of the salvation of their first born sons against the angels of death that visited Egypt in particular and their deliverance from Egypt in general. The Shavu-ot (Feast of Weeks) is celebrated both because of the recent harvest and the commemoration of the giving of the Law at Mt. Sinai. The Succoth (Feast of Tabernacles) is celebrated to remember their wandering years after their Egyptian exodus (Lev 23:43). The faith is Israel is always looking back.

Even their expectations and anticipations, including restoration, is anchored not in an ideal future utopia, but in their experiences of God’s hands in the past. The expected Messiah is not  really a new sort of creature that will do things that are completely unheard of. In fact, the Messiah they were expecting is mirrored in the life of King David, viewed as the ideal King of Israel. This means that their expectations of the future work of God is grounded in what they already know as God’s work, and their understanding of how God will work is grounded in how they know God has worked in the past. Ultimately, they have a glimpse of what they will experience in the future because the main Actor of the future is the same as in the past, the Lord who is the “compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness” (Exo 34:6; 2 Chron 30:9; Neh 9:17; Psa 86:15; 103:8; 111:4; 112:4; 145:8; Joel 2:13; Jonah 4:2).

It is within this realization that Jewish faith is retrospective that we can appreciate David’s claims. Ultimately, David can make the statement “The Lord is my Shepherd” not only because of the factual knowledge he has about what a shepherd does (as David is himself a shepherd), but also because of the experiential knowledge he has about the Lord’s shepherding of his life. David is one who has experienced and has been experiencing the Lord in his life, and hence his affirmation is not grounded in abstract speculation on what God as God can do. His affirmation is not an empty self-deceiving assurance, a fantasy acting as a defence mechanism to cope with present predicament. His affirmation is not blind faith, for he has seen and heard and felt God’s shepherding all throughout his life. His affirmation is not an ignorant guess, but is an utterance informed by real life encounters with God’s provision, sustenance, protection, and guidance.

If we postulate that David wrote the Psalm during his reign as king, then we can say that he indeed has experienced God’s shepherding in his life. For instance,

(1) David himself has experienced Psalm 23:1-2, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures…” David was just a simple shepherd, and from the looks of it, his own father did not think much of him (1 Sam 16:11) but he was chosen to be king, to leave the dirty field and dwell in abundance. 1 Samuel 21:1-6 also records the story when David and his companions were hungry and asked for bread from the priest Ahimelech, who then provided them food (cf. Matt 12:3; Mark 2:25).

(2) David himself experienced Psalm 23:3, for we read the story of his restoration through the prophet Nathan in 2 Samuel 12 when he sinned, although such a restoration was painful (cf Psa 52:1-12).

(3) David himself experienced Psalm 23:4, for he has walked so many valleys of the shadow of death. We have the stories when he killed a lion and a bear (1 Sam 17:34-36), met the giant Goliath in an insane one-to-one combat (1 Sam 17), and when King Saul tried to kill him (1 Sam 19), and yet in three occasions, God protected David’s life. This is why he can also proclaim in Psalm 27:1-3:


The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?
When the wicked advance against me to devour me,
it is my enemies and my foes who will stumble and fall.
Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.

David will certainly not agree with Ludwig Feuerbach, Sigmund Freud, and Karl Marx in their erroneous assessment of Christianity. According to all three, coming from three different approaches but having the same conclusion, the Christian faith is the projection or invention of an ideal being, a being we wish to be but cannot be. For instance, Freud thought that it is humanity’s primal need to have a parent figure to take care of their needs. For Freud, therefore, the concept of the Good Shepherd is a creative invention made-up by people in order to comfort themselves. But as we have seen, David was not a Feuerbachian, Freudian, or Marxist philosopher projecting an image made out of his own self and self-needs. Rather, David was someone who has really experienced God’s shepherding. J His affirmation is grounded in historical experiences, not in idealism.

The relevant question for us as we start the new year is this: “How do we face the new and the unknown?” By looking at the old and the known. This reminder is important, because as our reading indicated, sometimes it is very easy to forget. Elijah experienced God’s mighty power right before his eyes. God declared himself as the one true God through a very tangible means. But right after God has revealed himself to be the reliable ally to Elijah, when he received a death-threat, he ran as quickly as he can, fleeing for his life to Horeb because of fear (1 Kings 19:3). In fact, he was so afraid, depressed and feeling hopeless that he prayed “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors” (19:4). We can ask: where did the feeling of depression come from? Was it not that God just displayed his power over every gods and authorities? The root of Elijah’s fear was his amnesia, his forgetfulness. The same is true with the Israelites in Exodus 32. God just delivered them from their Egyptian bondage, and they were in the presence of their Deliverer at Mount Sinai, and what did they do? They built a golden calf and worshipped it. Like Elijah, the ground of their foolishness is their forgetfulness. This is why the summon this morning is to look back. Let us not forget the God who guided us in the past, who graciously provided for our needs, who protected us from harm, who lavished his blessings upon us, and even gave his life for our sakes. It is only when we remember God’s faithfulness in our lives that we can truly say “The Lord is my Shepherd… I shall not want.” Yes, J new things can happen, but always look back and always look up.

Is it not comforting that we face today and tomorrow, knowing that, just as in the past, we have a Friend, Companion, Helper, Guide, Comforter, Advocate, Prince of Peace, Almighty God? Is it not comforting that the God of Jeremiah is the same God we have today, He who proclaimed “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (29:11)? Is it not comforting that the Holy Spirit who enabled Jesus to overcome the devil’s temptations is the same God who Paul pronounced as faithful, and who “will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it” (1 Cor 10:13)? Is it not comforting that Jesus, the one who breathed the Spirit of Peace to the disciples when they were afraid and stressed (John 20:19-23) is the same Jesus who is “the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End” (Rev 22:13)? Is it not comforting that “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion” (Phil 1:6)?

[This sermon was preached at APNTS Chapel, on the 3rd of January, 2013).

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