Rev Barry Trayhorn forced to resign for quoting Bible in chapel

The salient facts of this case are these:

• HMP Littlehey is a category C men's prison and Young Offender institute in Cambridgeshire. Chapel is entirely voluntary. Nobody is required or forced to attend, sing hymns or listen to scripture.
• Rev Trayhorn is an ordained Pentecostal minister who worked as a gardener at the prison. He has helped out with prison chapel services at the invitation and under the supervision of the coordinating Chaplain, the Rev’d David Kinder, on behalf of the Criminal Justice Forum in the Diocese of Ely.
• Whilst leading worship in chapel in May 2014 Rev Trayhorn quoted the passage 1 Corinthians 6:9-11 (the quoted version is unknown).
• Four days later, a complaint was lodged against Rev Trayhorn. He was immediately suspended from helping with chapel services, and was subsequently told that his comments during the service were ‘homophobic’ and breached national prison policy.
• Rev Trayhorn was informed a disciplinary hearing would follow. He was subsequently signed off work with a stress related illness. During this time, his manager visited him three times at home to discuss work-related issues. On two of those occasions, a senior prison official was present.
• On 4th November 2014, Rev Trayhorn felt that he had no choice but to resign. Two days later, a disciplinary hearing was held in his absence, when he was given a ‘final written warning’.
• Rev Trayhorn, backed by the Christian Legal Centre, is now taking HMP Littlehey to an employment tribunal where he is claiming he was forced out of his main paid job as a gardener at the jail because of the intimidation he suffered as a result of his faith.

Several things are worthy of note and a few comments seem necessary.

First, as the Archbishop Cranmer blog notes, Rev Trayhorn's claim is not entirely unreasonable. For "it was not Barry Trayhorn’s skills as a paid gardener which had been called into question, but his competence to lead worship as an unpaid chaplain’s assistant." By all accounts, Rev Trayhorn's gardening skills have not entered into any discussion and there has been no complaint received over his horticultural prowess. It does, therefore, appear very much as though his quote from the Bible has directly led to the loss of his job as gardener.

Second, Rev Trayhorn received a final written warning at a disciplinary hearing in his absence. Again, as noted by Cranmer, given his gardening skills were not under scrutiny and he had "no previous misdemeanours or complaints recorded against him, it is not unreasonable to conclude that he was disciplined for quoting scriptures about sin which were deemed unpalatable by sinners."

Third, it seems worth pointing out that Rev Trayhorn did not major on sexual sin at the expense of other forms of sin. It does appear his quote includes the sexually immoral (that is the heterosexual immoral as the verse also goes on to mention those who practice homosexuality), idolaters, thieves, the greedy, drunkards, revilers and swindlers. Across the range of those sins, and in line with traditional evangelical thought, the list takes aim at just about all people everywhere. It is a more extensive list of Paul's basic comment in Romans 3:23: "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God".

Fourth, Rev Trayhorn was not disciplined for offering a particular interpretive view of the verses quoted. In fact, the man only went on to say "the Christian message [is] that God will forgive those who repent." It is, therefore, highly likely that Rev Trayhorn was disciplined specifically for quoting directly from the Bible.

All of this adds up to the ludicrous position that suggests it is now a felony to state the Bible's ethical teaching to convicted felons. It is equally ridiculous that prisoners, many of whom have been incarcerated for heinous sexual crimes which both the penal system and wider society recognise as ethically wrong, can claim offence at the biblical position (which is in agreement with both the penal system and wider society on this issue) and make a felon out of the man who dared quote it. Truly this is a nonsense.

Aside from all of this, the only conclusion that can be drawn is that significant portions of the Bible are now prohibited for public proclamation. We are censoring the ethical teachings of a book that played a central role in forming the ethical standard by which our own penal system abides. We are deeming a book that was, until very recently, a central part of school daily assemblies and a copy of which was given to every hotel room in the land to be incompatible with nebulous "British values" which, if they even exist at all, have been drawn from the selfsame source.

Most troubling of all, we already know about the government's plans to crack down on "extremism in all its forms" (see here, here and here etc). It seems quite clear that ill-defined "British values" must be pressed into every sphere of British public and private life. Anything that does not accord with them will be clamped down. The Home Secretary has already made it clear that those who speak against orthodox cultural utterances stand to lose charitable status and assets such as privately held buildings and cash funds. Some evangelical preachers who pose no physical threat to anybody - regardless of whether you agree with their position or the way in which they communicate it - have begun to feel the force of these measures (eg here).

And this seems to be yet another case of it happening. The chapel at HMP Littlehey is neither a public space nor a mandatory requirement for all prisoners. It is attended voluntarily and nobody is forced to partake in worship or to listen to God's word against their will. It is, therefore, utterly incredible that the Bible can be censored during a private meeting of Christian worship. Whilst this particular case beggars belief, it is all the more troubling that what is happening in HMP Littlehey and has already reached into some private meeting houses, will increasingly impede the public reading of God's word and the clear proclamation and explanation of what it contains in more and more churches. 

Measures intended to impede acts of terrorism and those propagating such acts are increasingly being used against all manner of political protesters and benign religious groups who pose no physical threat to anybody but who nonetheless do not assent to cultural orthodoxy. The measures are politically obtuse and utterly cowardly. For it seems clear enough that to avoid being seen to target one particular religious group, all people of faith - regardless of what they actually teach and believe or their propensity to call for the death of the infidel - are embroiled in a war against one small group, within one particular strain, of one particular branch of one particular religion. By any measure, it is not fair, it is not equitable, it is not reasonable and it should not stand.

On the historic apology

It can't have escaped your notice that the unstoppable runaway train that is Jeremy Corbyn's Labour leadership bid has been a rich vein of material for this blog of late (see here and here). And today is no exception. In today's Guardian, Corbyn announces that if he becomes leader he will apologise on behalf of the Labour Party for the (most recent) military intervention in Iraq.

I dared to reply to the Guardian twitter update with the following:

@guardian why? He was one of very few who have zero need to apologise!

— Stephen Kneale (@steve_kneale) August 20, 2015

This led to a small twitter-spat (as these things tend to do) which I will not bother boring you with here (for those interested in such things, you can find it here).

This got me thinking about the value of historic and symbolic apologies. On one side of this discussion are those who think they are a symbolic show of future intent. Never mind that Jeremy Corbyn consistently voted against the Iraq war, it doesn't matter that he himself always opposed it, as leader of the Labour Party he would be making an important symbolic gesture moving forward. On the other side of the debate are those who think it is a totally valueless act. His future intent is clear enough when he called for Tony Blair to be tried as a war criminal and has consistently and repeatedly voiced his opposition to military intervention. If the word 'sorry' conveys contrition and remorse, how can those uninvolved in a felony, and who consistently stood against the action, show such penitence? I fall into the latter of these two camps.

Symbolism is only really valid when the symbol applies to the one associating themselves with it. I am sure scores of Iraqi citizens would find value in an apology from the perpetrators. I am far less convinced they will find an apology from a man who consistently voted against the action and has repeatedly and vociferously called out his own government on the decision remotely worthwhile. His views on the issue have been clear from the beginning, remain clear and his plans going forward are no less transparent. An apology under such circumstances is neither symbolic nor meaningful. Only those who are responsible for an act can offer a meaningful apology. An apology from someone who always rejected the action does nothing to change the fact that those responsible are still unrepentant. It is like receiving an apology from the mother of a murderer (who you never held responsible) whilst her son continues to brag publicly about his heinous crime. It is simply a hollow gesture.

That also brings into question the nature of the historic apology altogether. The Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzo Abe, recently apologised to America for Japanese actions during WWII though he has more recently claimed that modern-day Japan shouldn't have to keep apologising for WWII actions. Angela Merkel has made further apologies for German atrocities under the Nazis. And Tony Blair, though unable to apologise for his own actions in Iraq, seems to have no issue apologising for Britain's past involvement in the slave trade and our part in the Irish potato famine.

It is Blair's own apologies that bring into sharp relief the pointlessness of the historic apology. It is easy to say sorry for actions with which we were personally uninvolved and that we have consistently made clear were wrong. There is little doubt in the modern age that virtually everyone in the Western world despises slavery. There are no policy decisions from any party across the political spectrum that suggest, explicitly or implicitly, any desire to return to such days. To apologise for something universally rejected in the West, and for which we bear no personal responsibility, is but a valueless and hollow gesture. We are really apologising on behalf of others which seems to defeat the very purpose of an apology. I can express sorrow and disgust about the actions of others but I cannot be remorseful or penitent on their behalf. An apology is only worth something if there is a recognition of wrongdoing on the part of the perpetrator. For those of us who always rejected the action, apologising on behalf of others does nothing.

It is ludicrous to me that people who openly and repeatedly reject the actions of the Nazis in modern day Germany are expected to continually apologise for something with which they had no part, neither passive nor active. It is silly that a hollow apology from a modern world leader about the horrors of slavery, when they have repeatedly and consistently stated their opposition to it, is deemed of value. It is rather more telling that Tony Blair has no problem whatsoever apologising for historic crimes in which he had no part but cannot bring himself to say sorry for the very real problems his decisions have directly caused for those who are still alive, affected by such things and for whom an apology would be both laden with meaning and of any intrinsic value. It says to me that the only apology worth anything is one from the individuals responsible. It says to me that is a much harder apology to give because it involves owning up, to those affected, to that for which we are personally responsible. It says to me that anyone can express sorrow and remorse for what they have not done; it is much harder to own what we personally and directly have done and admit we were wrong.

It also brings into sharp relief the words of Jesus Christ in Matthew 7:13f: "Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." Many of us are happy to accept that the way is hard. Jesus also said “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." And so we expect following Jesus to be tough. But we often don't like the fact that "the gate is narrow... and those who find it are few". It is not simply following Christ that is hard but even entering by the gate - a gate that Christ elsewhere makes clear is himself - is also difficult.

Those from other religions may not understand what is so difficult about salvation by faith alone. What on earth could be difficult about that? It is precisely the same thing that is easy about the historic apology and extremely difficult about the current, only valid, one. To come to Christ necessitates an understanding that we are personally responsible for our own sin. It is not an historic crime in which we have no part and remains entirely the fault of Adam, Paul tells us "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom 3:23). Without acknowledging our own personal responsibility for the sin that separates us from God, there can be no forgiveness. And there is no denying that accepting responsibility for what we have done, acknowledging that we have not lived as we ought and accepting that we have actively pursued what is wrong is difficult indeed!

It also means - if I must accept personal responsibility for my separation from God - that somebody else cannot be penitent on my behalf. If I am separated from God because of my sin, it is simply no good for my father, mother, brother, sister, friend or colleague to be terribly sorry on my behalf. My personal responsibility has in no way been accepted if I am personally unwilling to seek forgiveness for what I have done. It is only when we accept that we have done wrong and that forgiveness is found in repentance and faith in Christ alone that we can be made right with God. It is something that requires a personal and heartfelt penitence. A meaningful apology - that is true repentance and genuine faith in Christ - are the only means of real forgiveness.

By contrast, historic apologies are neither personal, do not accept responsibility and are not an acceptance of wrongdoing. It is pleading on behalf of another who has potentially shown no remorse whatsoever. If we want the word 'sorry' to mean anything at all, let's please stop insisting we use it on behalf of others.

Grace & Service

Grace is a great Christian truth. It is the means by which we have faith at all (cf. Eph 2:8f) through which we come into a saving relationship with Jesus Christ. Not only is it the basis of God's saving act toward us, it is also a means to live out the christian life (cf. Rom 5:2; Eph 2:8-10; 1 Pet 5:12). God's effective calling of his children, the means by which he makes us holy, by which we live out our Christian walk, and the basis of how and why He keeps us until the end are all of grace. Little wonder then that Christians are happy to talk about grace. A lot.

However, I have become increasingly convinced that our view of grace can impact in the most direct way on our service for the Lord. If you will forgive the crass terminology (I didn't have anything better to hand), there is a low view of grace (or, cheap grace) and a high view of grace (costly grace). Please don't confuse low and high, cheap and costly, as necessarily indicative of which view is "correct". Both affirm something rightly and deny something wrongly.

The low view of grace rightly affirms that works play no part in salvation or forgiveness. However, it tends toward a form of antinomianism. It establishes grace as the means of forgiveness and then fails to concern itself with individual sin. That is it takes a blasé attitude to sin because, of course, God will just forgive me. It is cheap because in the old analogy - we stand in court, God is the judge and we are unable to pay the fine - this low view treats the price paid by Christ as though it were a mere speeding fine. An inconvenience, for sure, and money we'd rather not pay but hardly an eye-watering sum. Perhaps, to take the analogy further, we may accept we were broke and couldn't pay £60. Yet, it is still only a relatively small price. Thus Christ's forgiveness comes cheaply and easily available.

The high view of grace, by contrast, rightly affirms we are saved from sin and are brought into a relationship with God in order to glorify him. It correctly holds dear the truth that just as God is holy so we are to be holy (1 Pet 1:16). However, it tends toward a form of nomianism (or legalism). It can have a particularly hard attitude to sin as God hates sin and Christ paid such a high price to remove it from us. Grace is, therefore, hard to come by. It is costly because in the old analogy - we stand in court, God is the judge and we are unable to pay the fine - this view treats the price paid by Christ as trillions of pounds that not even the richest man in the world could pay, let alone you or I. Thus forgiveness comes at the highest of costs. To add further sin to the debt is to pile Pelion upon Ossa.

The problem the low view causes for our service is ultimately this. Christ has paid the price for my sin, I am no longer guilty before God and I don't have to continually worry about my standing before him. I don't have to keep working out my righteousness by doing anything. Thus far, thus correct. However, because I am right with God I have no need to prove anything. If I don't fancy serving him I don't have to. If I don't want to do x, y or z for him, so what? I'm forgiven. I don't need to earn my way to Heaven so why bother working hard for the Lord when I don't necessarily fancy it. And, even if I ought to have done something, well, he'll forgive me won't he.

The problem the high view causes for service is this. I'm forgiven and because of what he has done for me, I owe Jesus everything. Thus far, thus correct. However, because I owe Christ so much, I effectively have to pay him back for all he has done for me. Every time I sin, that adds to my debt (which I know he has forgiven and I am no longer liable for it). But every time I do something good, that pays him back in a small way for all he has done for me. Therefore, I must get to every meeting, do all the evangelistic events I can and generally try to do as much good as I can. I can measure my holiness and righteousness by the amount of stuff I do for God. Whilst I know he will forgive me when I sin, I've already got a mountain of debt I owe so I don't want to be adding to that. Though I know I will never (indeed, couldn't) fully pay him back, I'd like to do what I can as best as I'm able.

Both views have hit on some truth to the detriment of an equally important truth. The low view is thoroughly liberating whilst simultaneously dismissing biblical imperatives to pursue holiness and to follow particular commands. It ignores the work of the Spirit in our lives who empowers us to keep God's law. The high view emphasises personal holiness but can lead to a crushing expectation in our spiritual walk. It can also create a two-tier system of believers and super-believers, based on the twin measures of the amount of stuff we do and our personal piety (usually assessed entirely negatively in how much stuff we are willing to shun).

How do we avoid the Scylla of cheap grace and the Charybdis of legalism? The high view primarily errs in presuming we can "pay back" Christ at all. It is not simply that the price he paid was beyond our means, it was that the price he paid was in a currency to which we have no access. No amount of good works will pay him back one penny. Equally, when Christ's righteousness is imputed to us we are clothed in Christ's righteousness. You cannot be more or less righteous, you either are or you aren't righteous at all. If we are in Christ, we have his perfect righteousness. This means there cannot be tiers of believer. Yes, there are those who do more for Christ than others and the scale of our reward in Heaven may differ as a result. But our fundamental righteousness, our standing before God, is a flat platform as our holiness in glory will also be.

The low view errs inasmuch as it treats Christ like an insurance policy. I may aim not to sin but, if I do, it's not the end of the world because Christ will forgive. It equally denies the ongoing work of the Spirit in our hearts. He isn't called the Holy Spirit for nothing. It seems highly unlikely God would put his Holy Spirit into our hearts simply to sit there and care not one jot about our personal holiness. If all true believers receive the indwelling of the Holy Spirit (and they do), it follows that all true believers would pursue holiness. If we are growing in holiness, it follows that such will have a clear a noticeable outworking in our lives and in our service. Though our service is no payback scheme, nor does it earn us righteousness, it does please the Father (as Kevin DeYoung points out here). 

At heart, grace is the means by which we are saved. It is the means by which we receive Christ's righteousness. Yet, it is also the means by which God empowers his children to live lives that are generally pleasing to him. When talking grace, it's always worth keeping these two truths together.

MP voting records and rundown biases

When considering where to cast your vote this election, MP voter breakdowns can be a helpful tool. They Work for You offers a fairly comprehensive breakdown of how your MP has voted and links directly to Hansard reports on which your MP has delivered a speech or voted. They give you a general breakdown of how your MP has voted in the commons and a much more detailed rundown (if you want it) of specifically how they have voted on each bill, reading and amendment.

Understandably, many Christians want to consider whether to vote for their incumbent MP based on their voting record concerning the issues that matter to them. For this reason, many will search out Christian-focused vote histories. Many presume these Christian organisations will offer a fair summary of the issues that matter to them most. On this, let me offer a word of caution.

The Christian Institute offer one such voter rundown. They run a very simple system: a green tick means "morally right"; a red cross means "morally wrong"; a black dot means an abstention or absence from the chamber. Inevitably, this is going to involve a certain level of interpretation. It is also likely to end up being a little misleading.

Nowhere do the Christian Institute link back to Hansard nor breakdown the specific voting record of the MP in question. They don't even offer the eminently more helpful caveat of They Work for You, which qualifies each issue with information on whether the MP voted strongly or moderately for or against the issue (that is, they may have voted for certain elements but not others). The Christian Institute rundown simply says the MP either voted for or against a measure and this is deemed either morally right or wrong.

It is also worth considering how far back some of these histories go. You may find a voting record stretching back to first appearance in the Commons incredibly helpful. However, it is always worth bearing in mind that individuals can change their mind over time and issues certainly change their substance over time. Someone voting one way in the 90s does not mean they will vote the same way now. Equally, having voted one way decades ago on an issue simply means they were voting on the issue before them on the day. Though current bills may relate to similar issues, the specific provisions will inevitably be different. For example, many MPs voted in favour of Civil Partnerships (specifically because they were not gay marriage). That is not evidence they were going to vote in favour of gay marriage.  The Christian Institute took a hard line that said Civil Partnerships were "gay marriage in all but name". As such, on their breakdown they deem a vote in favour as morally wrong. Were an election to follow immediately after a vote on this issue, to read the Christian Institute rundown would be to presume this MP will vote for gay marriage when that is not evident at all.

Other of their interpretive views are interesting. For example, they deem a vote against "mainly Christian" Religious Education (back in 1988 no less), to be morally wrong. Yet, this isn't really a moral issue. This measure wasn't preventing the teaching of Christianity, it was removing a presumption that learning about other religions in any detail would be prohibited. Moreover, this moral stance presumes RE existed for the purposes of Christian Instruction. Certainly that was once the case but most Bible-believing Christians would surely balk at the idea of non-Christian RE teachers attempting to instruct children in a "mainly Christian" manner. Further, it is hard to see what it morally wrong about expecting RE to be about comparative study and learning about the different religions in the UK. It is possible you may prefer "mainly Christian" RE (though, equally, you may not as outlined here in respect to assemblies) but to view it as morally wrong to demur seems well beyond the bounds of scriptural morality.

Other examples include a specific point about voting to remove the ban on homosexuals joining the army. This was deemed morally wrong. Whatever our views on homosexuality (and they usually are morally based), it seems hard to maintain a moral argument for homosexuals being prohibited from serving in the armed forces. Even if there are reasons we may give for that ban (though I'm not sure I can think of any), they surely cannot be moral ones. There are a handful of further examples here too.

At the end of the day, we have to be pretty simplistic in our thinking to believe all true Christians agree on all matters of politics. That Christians exist in almost every political party in the UK, of all stripes and colours, speaks to this. Even where we agree on matters of morality, we may not agree on how those moral views ought to be played out in the public square and the prohibitions put on them. Effectively, we may agree on what constitutes sin and how that will be judged by the Lord whereas we may disagree on whether individuals ought to be free to commit those sins and in what measure. For an explanation of how I work that out, how I understand the relationship between civil law, sin and morality see here.

All that is not to say we should ignore these voter rundowns. It is not to say they are of no value at all. It is only to say that we should read them with our eyes open. We should be aware of the biases of the groups writing them. It is probably best to compare a few of them. Cross-reference between The Christian Institute and They Work for You or other similar voting histories. The bottom line is we should not simply presume, at face value, a green tick or a red cross does true morality show. 

How do you sell God in the 21st Century? More Heaven; less Hell

I came across this article in today's Guardian online. The piece recounts a conservative Evangelical journey away from their faith. It outlines the story of somebody growing up in an Evangelical baptist family, going to Moody Bible Institute (a conservative, Evangelical seminary), engaged in evangelism and yet becoming increasingly disaffected with theodicy and theology of Hell. In many ways, it is a common story of an Evangelical unable to square what they see in scripture, the apologetic arguments and theology they are taught and their own internal sense of what is just, fair, moral and right. Though lengthy, the article is certainly worth reading.

Nevertheless, the article's emphasis isn't really autobiographical. The writer isn't ultimately trying to share how they became disaffected with Evangelicalism (though they do share that and do so - in my view - in a way that still exhibits fondness for Evangelicals if not for Evangelicalism nor Evangelical theology.) Rather, the writer is trying to address why the perception of Hell - and certainly the formulation of the doctrine of Hell at a popular level - has changed over time.

The article contends that 30 years ago - whilst the writer was growing up in Evangelical baptist circles - Hell was taught in, what would now be considered, an anachronistic way. It was all fire and brimstone, eternal torment and attempts to scare folk into Heaven. It notes a shift in emphasis, focusing on the preaching and writing of Bill Hybels, toward less of a focus on Hell itself. Certainly when Hell was mentioned, it was brought into focus by empathetic appeals to sin and evil existing in all people. The writer then considers how this has changed again, focusing on the writing of Rob Bell. It argues Hell is now either (a) something to be experienced here on Earth; or, (b) a purgatorial refinement leading to ultimate, universal reconciliation and the end of Hell itself.

The article misses the mark in various respects. Principally, it argues the way to avoid Hell, according to protestant Evangelical theology, is to say the sinner's prayer. It states "For contemporary evangelicals, it’s solely this act that separates the sheep from the goats." Though there are undoubtedly people who hold this view, most at a personal level, it is not mainstream Evangelical belief. 

Paul Washer, a well-known conservative Evangelical couldn't be clearer when he states "We call men to repent and believe. And if they repent and believe, truly in that moment they are saved in that moment. But the evidence is more than just the sincerity of a prayer. It is a continuation of the working of God in their life through sanctification." He has also argued "We have taken that truth [that if you truly believe and you confess Christ, even if it costs you your life, you will be saved]… we have taken that beautiful truth and reduced it down to, “If you pray a little prayer before a bunch of people in a church in America, you can be guaranteed you were saved if you think you were sincere.”"

Denny Burk - Professor of Biblical Studies at Boyce College (Southern Baptist seminary) and associate pastor at Kenwood Baptist Church - has published this comment by David Platt - president of the International Missions Board, the mission agency of the Southern Baptists (a conservative Evangelical denomination). Platt states:

Do I believe it is “wrong” for someone to pray a “prayer of salvation”? Certainly not. Calling out to God in prayer with repentant faith is fundamental to being saved (Romans 10:9-10). Yet as I pastor a local church and serve alongside pastors of other local churches, I sense reasonably serious concern about the relatively large number of baptisms in our churches that are “re-baptisms”—often representing people who thought they were saved because they prayed a certain prayer, but they lacked a biblical understanding of salvation and were in reality not saved. This, in addition to a rampant easy believism that marks cultural Christianity in our context (and in other parts of the world), leads me to urge us, as we go to all people among all nations with the good news of God’s love, to be both evangelistically zealous and biblically clear at the same time (Matthew 28:18-20).

Plenty of other conservative Evangelicals can be found stating categorically that nobody is saved simply because they prayed a "sinner's prayer". Though a prayer of repentance may be an outward expression of the repentance that has already taken place in the heart of a believer, it is this ongoing state of repentance and trust in Christ's atoning work that saves.

However, the article is helpful in pinpointing where the boundaries of belief lie. It quite rightly sees the arguments advanced by Rob Bell as demonstrating "the potential pitfalls of the church’s desire to distance itself too quickly from fire and brimstone." As the writer comments:

Bell claims to address the exact theological problem that motivated me to leave the faith, but rather than offer a new understanding of the doctrine, he offers up a Disneyesque vision of humanity, one that is wholly incompatible with the language biblical authors use to speak about good and evil. Along with hell, the new evangelical leaders threaten to jettison the very notion of human depravity – a fundamental Christian truth upon which the entire salvation narrative hinges.

The issues for the writer were plain enough. The Bible teaches the doctrine of Hell. An internal sense of that which is just and merciful couldn't accept the doctrine of Hell. One either accepts the teaching of the Bible or rejects it. Bell's attempts at "disneyfying" the doctrine seemed too hollow and shallow for credible belief.

What the article helpfully states in the clearest terms is the following:

what made church such a powerful experience for me as a child and a young adult was that it was the one place where my own faults and failings were recognised and accepted, where people referred to themselves affectionately as “sinners”, where it was taken as a given that the person standing in the pews beside you was morally fallible, but still you held hands and lifted your voice with hers as you worshipped in song. This camaraderie came from a collective understanding of evil – a belief that each person harboured within them a potential for sin and deserved, despite it, divine grace. It’s this notion of shared fallibility that lent Hybels’s 9/11 sermon its power, as he suggested that his own longing for revenge was only a difference of degree – not of kind – from the acts of the terrorists.

Without a clear and defined understanding of the doctrine of Hell the message of the gospel is liable to be lost. No amount of rebranding is going to help. For a reformulation of the doctrine of Hell means the gospel, the message of salvation in Christ, ultimately loses its power. No Hell soon leads to a watered down, or non-existent, statement of sin. No sin means no need of salvation. No need of salvation means no need of Christ. No need of Christ makes Jesus a pitiable character indeed.

Efforts to rebrand Hell, or to push it to the sidelines, are misguided at best. That is not to say our preaching must be fire and brimstone every week. Nor is it to say Hell must be the centre of all our gospel presentations. It is to say, that to pretend it doesn't exist or to speak of it in such ways as it seems little more than trifling irritant - like a small wart on God's created order - is to undermine the gospel.

A right view of sin - to see it as God sees it - lends credence to the existence of Hell. To do anything other than present Hell as scripture presents it damages our understanding of sin, salvation and the work of Christ. Whatever else the article made clear, it is apparent that changes to the doctrine of Hell were ultimately unconvincing and - despite the title of the piece - more Heaven and less Hell doesn't do much to win anybody. If anything, it undermines the achievement of Jesus on the cross and the reality of our standing before a holy God.

3 things my 1 year old son has taught me about God

This last week, on the 13th November, my son turned 1. During this time, I have learnt an enormous amount - far more than during my theological studies - about God and myself. It is not that I didn't know these things before but they have become more real, and painfully obvious, to me since becoming a father. And, of course, it is no coincidence God is cast as a Father in scripture. There are a whole ream of things I could share but here are three things my son has taught me about God and myself this year:

God is always faithful; I am impatient and lack trust
Even this morning, my son and I went through our usual routine. I got him up and dressed - during which he played and was incredibly happy. I took him downstairs and poured some milk into his bottle (at which his eyes lit up). I took the bottle over to the microwave to warm it for 30 seconds. It was then he decided to get angry. This is a daily occurrence.

Clement loves his food. He doesn't tantrum a lot (praise God) but, when he does, it is usually over food and drink. Either he wants some, wants more or wants it quicker. This morning, when he got angry, I said to him "I get you your milk every morning, warm it and have never yet failed to give it to you. What do you think is going to happen?" Lo and behold, when the milk appeared again, Clem had his bottle and all was once again well.

It was a poignant reminder that God has never yet failed to sustain or uphold me, even during times of difficulty. He has never once failed to deliver on his promises and has, over the course of my life, given me all sorts of things which I acknowledge come from him and for which I thank him. Yet, so often, I throw little tantrums of my own effectively questioning whether God will give me this or that. They are the sort of things he hasn't yet failed to give me, so I have no reason to doubt he won't give them to me now, but so often I do. I am either impatient, wanting them now, or question that he will give them to me at all. My son has taught me the truth of Mt 7:11.

God wants my good; I am defiant
It is undoubtedly true that Clem knows the difference between right and wrong. Not all right and wrong but certainly he knows what 'no' means. I know this because sometimes, when I say no, he turns around and stops batting the thing he was touching. Equally, I know he is defiant because sometimes, when I say no, he turns around with a big grin and sticks his hand straight back on the front of the fireplace we have repeatedly told him not to touch.

Most of the time, my son's desire to touch stuff is irksome rather than grievous. He has a mountain of toys we use to distract him. The toys are eminently more fun than touching the tivo box or poking a plug socket. Nevertheless, toys become boring compared to the sheer delight of doing something he knows he shouldn't. The actual value of that decision, objectively speaking, is minimal (touching a glass front on a fireplace really isn't that exciting!) But the very act of defiance is what makes it appealing. What he doesn't realise is when we ask him not to touch the fire we aren't out to spoil his fun. Rather, it is something for his own good.

Every time I say no to Clem (especially when he defies me), I am reminded of how gracious God is to me. He has given me all sorts of good things to enjoy in the world. Yet, often, I think the most appealing things are those to which he says 'no'. When I pursue them, their value turns out to be minimal - or, more usually, detrimental - to me. Yet, pursue them I do. Rico Tice, in Christianity Explored, gives the example of a beach in Australia with signs up saying "Beware! Sharks." We have to ask whether the signs are there for our own good or simply to spoil our fun. In the same way, we must ask whether God's word is there to stop us enjoying ourselves or if he intends it for our good. When he says no, it is always for our benefit. When we defy him, just like my son, we say we know better and touching a fire seems like a good idea.

God loves me; I question his care
When my son does what he shouldn't, discipline usually follows. Typically, this involves some sort of "time out" or being held so he can't play. It is inevitably accompanied by tears and screams as he hates being stopped from doing what he wants (even if what he wants is eminently stupid!)

Now, I don't stop loving my son when he defies me. I'm certainly not full of hate and contempt when I discipline him. Usually, especially given his age, his little acts of defiance are little more than a bit irritating. Often, it's not even that - it's just a bad habit for him to get into (such as touching the fire). The discipline is a corrective measure more often than not. It is occasionally meant as a punishment too but, even in those circumstances, is a corrective to his behaviour. To leave him to it, and ignore behaviours that I know will be destructive, would be a surefire sign that I don't love or even care about my son.

In the same way, I am reminded how much God loves me. Not only has he given me a world to enjoy and his word for my good but he also disciplines out of love. Both Proverbs 3:11f and Hebrews 12:3-17 make this truth clear. His discipline is a sign that we are his children. Though no discipline is pleasant at the time, as the writer to the Hebrews says, "it later yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it". God disciplines his children out of love just as I do my son. He does it to train us, to refine our characters where they need refining. To enact no discipline when we err would be to suggest we are illegitimate sons - one's whom he doesn't really care for at all. Discipline is for the good of the one being disciplined and is a sign of love and care. It is a sign of wanting the best and seeking to stop destructive behaviours (1).

Notes

1. The same applies in the church. Church discipline is a sign of love and care for an individual. To enact no discipline is to suggest we don't care about destructive behaviours for them or the church

Four signs you don't belong to God

As a community group, we have started a series of studies in 1 John. Tomorrow, we reflect upon the key points and applications from our first study in 1 John 1:1-2:6 as a means of focusing our prayers. I have also been organising our future studies in 1 John. Today, I have been reflecting on our first study as well as preparing a future study in 1 John 3:11-4:6.

One of John's central concerns is determining who belongs to God and who does not. More specifically, he is concerned as to whether we belong to God or remain under the influence of Satan. He also wants us to be clear that not all teaching that purports to be from God is truly from Him. Much of what claims to pass as "Christian" is no such thing and comes from the Devil.

One sign that we do not belong to God, according to John, is a claim to sinlessness. He says:

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1 John 1:8-10)

Teaching like this seems to be precisely the sort of thing John has in mind here.

Two further signs are offered in chapter 4:1-3. John says:

Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you heard was coming and now is in the world already. (1 John 4:1-3)

It is a sign of unbelief, and Satanic influence, for one to deny "Jesus has come in the flesh" i.e. he is not fully man. It is similarly significant if one argues "Jesus is not from God" i.e. he is not fully God himself. Teaching like this (1) seems to be in mind here.

On top of that, in the studies I have been preparing (though throughout the letter John offers further tests), he says:

They [false teachers] are from the world; therefore they speak from the world, and the world listens to them. We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us. By this we know the Spirit of truth and the spirit of error. (1 John 4:5f)

In other words, true believers will listen to God's word in scripture. They will hear the teaching of the apostles and reject things that don't accord with it. They certainly will not teach things that cannot be found, or cannot be tested, by the words of scripture. John seems to be aiming at teaching like this and this:

“The Bible can’t even find any way to explain this. Not really. That’s why you’ve got to get it by revelation. There are no words to explain what I’m telling you. I’ve got to just trust God that He’s putting it into your spirit like He put it into mine.” Joyce Meyer (What Happened from the Cross to The Throne? audio)

The most concerning thing here is not the warning against false teachers themselves. It is far more troubling that John says "they speak from the world, and the world listens to them. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us". In other words, if you are swept up in such false teaching - you listen to it and believe it over and against the clear teaching of John in these passages - it is a sign that you are not saved yourself.

For most of us - certainly those who move in my circles - this sort of false teaching doesn't tend to be pushed. Amongst our church members, there aren't usually people standing up and teaching these sorts of heretical views. What is far more likely, and troubling, is people in our congregations may hear such things and be swept away with it. They themselves aren't teaching it but they are imbibing it and ultimately responding to it.

Heed John's warning, best to ignore anyone who comes with such views.

Notes

1. Joyce Meyer audio

What is it to "hate [your] brother"?

I've just been working through a bible study in 1 John to be delivered next month (one likes to keep oneself ahead). I have spent considerable time looking at 1 John 2:9-11:

9 Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. 10 Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling.11 But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes.

It is a passage I have read many times before. The point John makes here is pretty obvious; if you hate your brother it seems highly unlikely you have been saved. If God is love (and light), as John says repeatedly in the letter, then those who abide in him are unlikely to exhibit lots of hatred (and darkness). A simple, yet profound, point.

What is almost never discussed is what hatred of one's brother actually looks like in practice. How do I know if I hate my brother? Is hatred and dislike the same thing? If I simply find someone annoying, or I get on better with someone else, am I written outside of God's love? If hatred of other believers is a mark of unbelief, how can I ever know the truth of the antipoint John is actually making, the assurance of my salvation, if this hatred is never defined?

I have heard some wildly contradictory (and, largely, unsatisfactory) views on what hatred of one's brothers looks like over the years. I am still not certain I could give any categorical definition. But, I offer the following as a potential starting point.

John spends much time outlining the differences between light and dark, love and hate, godliness and worldliness. These seem to be the fundamental contradistinctions John wants to make. Given this, it follows that hatred of one's brother can be identified by determining the defining features of love and inverting them. Though not exhaustive (1), Paul's list of loving attributes in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 can help.

Paul comments on love:

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

This might be inverted to read:

Hatred is impatient and unkind; hate envies and boasts; it is arrogant and rude. It does insist on its own way; it is irritable and resentful; it rejoices at wrongdoing, but not with the truth. Hate bears nothing, believes nothing, hopes for nothing, endures nothing.

Perhaps this is where we should start to assess our state before the Lord.

Notes

1. I do not think Paul is offering a definition of love here. I rather suspect he is outlining all the things the Corinthian church are doing and telling them that love would not do those things. It isn't a definition but rather draws some boundaries around what love is (or, is not)

Why on earth are evangelical statements of this kind treated differently?

I was surprised to read in today's Guardian two particularly good comments, within the same article, by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Here, Justin Welby outlined the difficult position in which the Anglican Communion finds itself regarding gay marriage.

The first comment, which really outlines the difficult position, was the headline of the article. Welby suggested that African believers will be killed if the CofE accepts gay marriage. He told of the mass grave he had seen in Nigeria of 330 Christians who had been killed by their neighbours. He said this atrocity was justified by those who committed it this way: "If we leave a Christian community here we will all be made to become homosexual and so we will kill all the Christians".

Welby went on to say "I have stood by gravesides in Africa of a group of Christians who had been attacked because of something that had happened in America. We have to listen to that. We have to be aware of the fact". If the Church of England celebrated gay marriages, he added, "the impact of that on Christians far from here, in South Sudan, Pakistan, Nigeria and other places would be absolutely catastrophic. Everything we say here goes round the world".

Welby is right to outline this issue. The Anglican Church does not operate in a Western Liberal bubble and its pronouncements are felt across the world. Moreover, it is not only those who subscribe to Anglicanism who are affected. All Christians will feel the brunt of their decisions and statements, irrespective of whether they themselves are Anglican communicants. Most people do not have enough theological nuance to differentiate between denominations and theological views. Typically, whether believers like it or not, Anglicanism is seen as the authentic voice of Christianity across the world. As such, not only do CofE pronouncements affect Anglican believers, they have knock-on effects for all Christians, especially those in countries in which Christianity is less than welcome.

However, the far more interesting part of the article came later, almost as an aside. The article stated:

Welby also condemned homophobia in England. "To treat every human being with equal importance and dignity is a fundamental part of being a Christian," he said. Although he continued to uphold what he called the historic position of the church, of "sex only within marriage and marriage only between a man and a woman", he agreed with the presenter, James O'Brien, that it was "completely unacceptable" for the church to condemn homosexual people more than adulterous heterosexual people.

This is the closest statement to the scriptural position on gay marriage I have seen from the Archbishop and it was this that caught my attention. 

As a caveat, I appreciate there are some fundamentalist, and fewer evangelical, churches who would not frame the Christian position in this way. There are those who would major on homosexuality in a thoroughly unhelpful (and unbiblical?) way. I also appreciate there are those who, though they would make similar comments, say and do a series of other things that rather undermine their stated position. Again, however, I think these churches are in the minority within both fundamentalist and evangelical circles.

This was the thing that interested me most. The Guardian, the paper most likely to cry foul play on this issue, reported fairly that the Archbishop "condemned homophobia". They rightly stated the scriptural position that all people should be treated with dignity and respect - irrespective of whatever sin they may have committed - as "a fundamental part of being a Christian". All of this was stated alongside the clear view of the Archbishop that sex is for marriage between a man and a woman but that it is nevertheless wrong to condemn homosexual behaviour more than adulterous heterosexual behaviour. All of that, I completely endorse.

Why then, given the Archbishop of Canterbury was deemed - by the Guardian no less - to have "condemned homophobia", do evangelicals who make exactly the same case get castigated as homophobic? Almost every evangelical church I have known (with few exceptions), would state the position of scripture and their individual, independent churches in almost exactly those terms. 

Recently, evangelical writer and rector of St Ebbes, Oxford - Vaughan Roberts - expressed precisely this view in an interview for Evangelical Now, as well as in his book Battles Christians Face. In both interview and book, he bravely spoke of his own personal struggle with same-sex attraction. Other evangelical writers have written similar articles and books making much the same case. It simply beggars belief that this statement from the Archbishop of Canterbury can be deemed to condemn homophobia whilst nigh on identical statements from evangelical quarters are roundly condemned as homophobic.

If the scriptural position stated by Justin Welby is recognised as condemning homophobia, continual claims of evangelical homophobia need to be addressed. If it be homophobic to call homosexual acts (whilst still respecting the rights and dignity of those attracted to people of the same-sex) sinful, in precisely the same way as calling adulterous heterosexuality (whilst still respecting the rights and dignity of those people) sinful, then it is hard to see how Justin Welby's comments escape this charge. If, however, the scriptural view is not deemed fundamentally homophobic - that all people irrespective of the particular sins they commit (of which, we all commit some) are worthy of dignity and respect but that any sexual activity outside of heterosexual marriage does amount to sin - then Justin Welby, the CofE and the majority of evangelical churches cannot, and should not, be labelled uniformly homophobic.

I would love it if this signals a change in media reporting. I would be delighted if this means the genuine nuances of the scriptural view, and majority position within evangelicalism, are reported fairly. It would be great if Christians are not simply denounced as homophobic when they differentiate the choice to commit homosexual acts from the homosexual people who do not choose to be attracted to people of the same-sex. This is exactly the same as the differentiation between the heterosexual people who do not choose to be attracted to people of the opposite sex but do choose when, and with whom, to engage in sexual activity. 

When evangelicals speak of homosexuality as sinful, they rarely mean same-sex attraction is of itself sinful, intentional and chosen. I hope these nuances are reported fairly and this marks a sea-change in the way evangelical, and broader Christian, views of homosexuality are seen in the media and the public square. I hope this is the case but I shan't hold my breath.

Christian parenting and emotional abuse

The Guardian report that the government are seeking to implement a law that would see parents face jail for harming a child's "physical, intellectual, emotional, social or behavioural development". In a column in the same paper, Oliver James - author of Not in Your Genes: The Truth About the Findings of the Human Genome Project - has offered a comment here explaining why he believes this is a good move. In truth, this move strikes me as more than a little troubling.

There are some things to which most normal, sensible people who function as good citizens will assent. One such thing is that the physical and emotional abuse of children is a terrible thing. Good Christians should assent to this too since Paul tells parents to love, and not to provoke, our children (Eph 6:4; Col 3:21; Ti 2:4).

Whilst most people can spot the obvious extremes, the boundaries of that which constitutes physical child abuse are a little hazy and the cause of some debate (is smacking abusive? What level of force is acceptable? is any physical chastisement acceptable?). Across most of Europe, the answer to that last question comes in the form of a definite 'no'. In Britain, the edges are a bit more fuzzy. Regardless of our personal opinions on such questions, if we are unclear on that which constitutes physical abuse, how on earth are we supposed to navigate that which constitutes "intellectual, emotional, social or behavioural" abuse?

Though these questions are tricky, as with physical abuse, legislation and case law will draw the line somewhere. In respect to the physical, the furthest the line may be drawn would be to say all forms of physical chastisement represent abuse. At worst, this would mean any use of force - no matter how minor - could be forbidden. In reality, this would simply amount to a ban on open-hand smacking which, at the risk of alienating some christian readers, is not an attack on scripture, christian parenting nor a major undermining of all discipline.

However, what concerns me most about these new proposals is precisely where does one draw the line in respect to emotional, intellectual, social and behavioural abuse? Of course, as with physical abuse, most of us could point out extreme examples. Of course, extreme behaviour being what it is, most people are not engaging in it. Where the issue lies is in the fuzzy edges - where exactly do the boundaries of intellectual, emotional, social and behavioural abuse begin?

If the writing and twitter ranting of Richard Dawkins is to be heeded, then all forms of religious upbringing are most definitely included. If the writing and twitter ranting of some adherents of religion are to be heeded, all beliefs apart from their own are included. Similarly, some ardent political activists are bound to shout indoctrination at any child brought up under the oppressive views of competing political theories. All of that is before we even get to those confused notions of tolerance that will tolerate anything but intolerance and would castigate all as abusive who do not assent to the acceptance of culturally approved views.

Nobody should want to see a child emotionally abused any more than they should want to see one physically abused. My concern is that, in a no doubt well meaning attempt to address particular noxious behaviours, we inadvertently (or, if one is to be cynical, actively) proscribe certain beliefs and views as abusive that are no such thing. Indeed, that which is abusive may well change in accordance with the cultural zeitgeist. 

If it is unpalatable for the church to speak negatively of homosexuality, one can only presume that to hold to the scriptural teaching on this issue in the family will be deemed emotionally abusive. To not allow your child to indulge all the sinful desires of their heart, no matter how deeply felt, could this in turn be deemed abusive? In truth, as potential parenting problems go, for Christians this is far bigger than any sort of ban on smacking.

What do we do when justice fails?

The 2006 St Andrews Agreement has always been something of a tentative conclusion to the problems in Northern Ireland. Voting remains as polarised as ever - Protestants still overwhelmingly vote Unionist; Catholics still predominantly vote Republican - with the Ulster Unionists and SDLP continuing to play second fiddle to those parties once deemed (perhaps unfairly) more "radical" but certainly more virulently disposed to the aims and desires of their respective communities. The DUP, over the last 30 years, stood on a platform of being more Unionist than the Ulster Unionists and more robust in their rejection of the Good Friday Agreement (GFA) to great effect. Likewise, Sinn Fein have positioned themselves as greener than the SDLP. That the DUP and Sinn Fein are the majority parties within their respective communities speaks to the nature of voting cleavages in the region and the primary concerns of both the Protestant and Catholic communities.

Given all that, what are we to make of the recent revelations that secret backdoor deals, including immunity, had been given to terror suspects? Unsurprisingly, such revelations are now threatening to tear apart the already fragile St Andrews Agreement. Peter Robinson, First Minister of Northern Ireland, is threatening to resign unless there is a full judicial review into what went on. David Trimble, former Ulster Unionist leader who was central in the formation of the GFA, has stated he was unaware of such deals and reiterated that no such provision was made in the GFA to grant immunity to terror suspects. In particular, the St Andrews Agreement marked the desire of Sinn Fein to submit to the rule of law and specifically the authority of the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). The recent revelations of backdoor deals rather undermines the very agreement that led to power sharing in the first instance.

Sadly, this was all rather too predictable (indeed, I commented to that effect as an undergraduate student just prior to the signing of the St. Andrews Agreement). The central flaws in the power sharing arrangement were threefold: (1) The Arend Lijphart consociationalist model for Power Sharing giving the minority side a veto on any "petition of concern"; (2) As Col. Tim Collins argues, "the Good Friday Agreement was in fact a “peace at any price” deal where a militarily defeated IRA and the chaotic so-called loyalist paramilitaries were given the working-class populations of their respective communities as a blood dowry, to do with as they pleased in exchange for keeping the violence off the TV screens. The knee-cappings and beatings carried on out of sight. Only once – the brutal murder of Robert McCartney in 2005 – did the mask slip, but this was quickly covered up." St Andrews never dealt with this underlying and ongoing issue; (3) The DUP rampant rejection of the GFA was based on several factors, but one central issue was early prisoner releases. St Andrews never addressed this issue and these recent revelations were bound to reopen this old wound.

What hope of justice exists for the families of the victims of those who have been given immunity? Sadly, at the present time, not much. Unless a judicial review determines the letters granting immunity to be void (and one finds it difficult to see how they could do) terror suspects of historic crimes will remain immune. All the while, I think Tim Collins is right to feel aggrieved that "the Hyde Park murders, we are told by [Peter] Hain and others, are so far back in time that it is an outrage that anyone should be held to account. Yet he would be the first to bay for the prosecution of any soldier even vaguely associated with the event of Bloody Sunday, 10 years earlier in 1972". In the end, justice at the present time seems unlikely to be forthcoming. Expensive enquiries into the historic actions of state service men and women continue whilst equal energy is put into covering up the historic actions of terror suspects (on both sides). 

Nevertheless, none of us will escape the justice of the Lord. Whether British service men and women, Loyalist or Republican terrorist, the Lord sees all and knows what each has done. He will hold to account. For the Christian, though we may often feel like David in Psalm 73, we know that "it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgement (Heb 9:27)". Likewise, "it is time for judgement to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God? (1 Pet 4:17)"

When is an idol not an idol?

It is apt to interpret the Ten Commandments in light of Jesus extension of their reach. The command of Ex. 20:13 to not murder, according to Jesus teaching, includes hatred and anger (Mt. 5:21f). Similarly, the seventh commandment (Ex. 20:14) encompasses lustful thought (Mt. 5:27f). Thus, on this understanding, follows the statement of Rom 3:23: 'for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God'.

In applying the Ten Commandments today, Christians (rightly) do not limit the second commandment (Ex. 20:2-5) to the mere creation of carved/forged gods. Nevertheless, I wonder how far we have rolled the first and second commandments together without warrant? For example, it is not uncommon to hear preachers ask 'what are the idols in your life?' and go on to explain that idols are anything that has taken the place of God as first in your life.

However, I wonder whether this is a misclassification. In OT times, it is probable the creation of an idol meant an individual was likely to be breaking both the first and second commandments concurrently. I suppose it is possible that one could make an image which supposedly "represents" God without making that image a specific object of worship, thus falling foul of the second commandment alone. However, on the literal OT reading of the moral law, one could easily place another god before Yahweh without making a 'graven image' to worship alongside. 

When interpreting the Ten Commandments for the modern day, most preachers rightly suggest an explanation of idolatry as merely creating carved images is not the extent of this command. However, is it strictly true to argue that anything we place before God is an idol? Such certainly appears to fall foul of the first commandment but not so obviously the second.

Now, let me quickly explain what I am not saying. I am not suggesting those things we often call idols are somehow OK for the Christian. I am not suggesting the consequences of what we often call 'idolatry' are not indeed the very consequences we will face. I am not suggesting it is somehow acceptable to place things before God and make them objects of worship.

Here is what I am suggesting. The problem of "anything that takes the place of God in your life" (a legitimate thing to highlight as sin) seems to fall foul of the first commandment. Lumping idolatry in with this combines the first and second commandments, making no real distinction between the two, without any warrant from scripture to do so. If our typical explanation of idolatry is in reality an explanation of failure to obey the first commandment, contemporary application of the second commandment must surely be something else beyond this.

This begs the question: what should be the application of idolatry for the modern reader? If the first commandment prohibits placing any god before Yahweh, the application of the second commandment surely cannot be the very same thing. Perhaps the first commandment prohibits placing anything before Yahweh (those things we typically define as modern-day idols falling under this bracket) whilst the second proscribes altering the image of Yahweh. That is to say, anything by which we limit or change the character of God is, to all intents and purposes, a modern day idol. To argue that God is not who He claims to be, to change his person, nature, etc is to worship a "false image".

Now, this is something of a tentative attempt to maintain a distinction between the first and second commandments. I am convinced the first and second commandments must have different things in mind, for why have two commandments that target the same thing? Similarly, given they must be addressing two separate problems, it follows the application and reach of these separate commandments must - at least in some way - be distinct. My suggestion above is just an attempt (perhaps a misplaced one) to maintain this distinction and address the reality that two commandments must mean two different things and thus be applied in different ways.

"Whole-lifers", inhumane treatment and basic human dignity

A recent story, carried by various media outlets, reported whole-life jail terms without review have been deemed a breach of human rights by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR).

Unsurprisingly, outrage has not been hard to come by. In a guest post on the Archbishop Cranmer blog, Rev'd Dr Peter Mullen seems miffed. Similarly, the BBC reports several UK government ministers are not best pleased. The usual scroll down the Guardian comments section will lead you to several other unhappy customers.

I want to limit myself to the following brief points:

1. The ECHR have not ruled that it is inhumane to imprison somebody for the rest of their natural life. They have merely stated that all prisoners should have a right to review with the possibility of release. It does not follow that, upon review, prisoners will be released necessarily.
2. The outpouring of anger in response the newspaper headlines seems to rest on the idea that heinous, inhumane crimes revoke one's right to humane treatment. "Whole-lifers" had such scant regard for the lives of those they attacked that their human rights should be treated with equal disdain, they aver.
3. Whilst there may be some debate over the nature of human rights and that which constitutes basic human dignity, scripture is clear that all humans are of inherent worth and value, worthy of respect and require a certain level of dignity by virtue of being made in the image of God
4. Scripture nowhere reasons that sin warrants the removal of basic human dignity, inherent by being God's image bearers (see here for a more full defence of this view). 
5. Therefore, even the most heinous crimes do not legitimise inhumane treatment. One may wish to argue against the notion that whole-life sentences without review are inhumane - that is certainly a legitimate debate to be had. Equally, there is legitimate debate to be had over what constitutes inhumanity. However, if our argument rests on the idea that inhumane crimes warrant inhumane treatment we may struggle to find biblical warrant for that view.
6. Equally, how would we determine which crimes are so heinous they warrant removal of basic human dignity and those which, although sinful and clearly viewed seriously by God, do not warrant such treatment? How far would we be able to move away from self-justification and existential arguments of sins most people commit and those particularly horrendous one's that are only categorised as such because we don't tend to do them?