Monthly Archives: May 2010

Richard Hooker’s law of reason

Richard Hooker has an ‘interesting’ argument. The fact that the nature of God limits the actions which God can do without changing his ‘core’ nature he calls the eternal law; and from this he derives natural law that governs ‘natural agents’, celestial law which governs the angels, and reason which he holds to be the expression of divine law to man. From this he seeks to show that reason is a law from God but apart from scripture and that through the exercise of reason we discern the will of God in the form of a law beyond and before scripture.

My concern about this argument is first that ‘reason’ unlike his ‘celestial’ and ‘natural’ forms is not compulsive or regulative but merely supportive. The sun cannot decide against rising, yet man can decide against reason. Whilst it is true that man is governed by some part of the eternal law of God, that law is expressed foremost in those things which we cannot avoid – in our post-fall condition that means to be born, to perceive God in the witness of the creation, to be sinful, to receive such grace as is given, to suffer death, and to receive judgement.

That reason is not a distillate of eternal law should be further clear by considering the chief end of reason, which is sin. For, every man that sins has reasoned that “there is no God” or “God shall not Judge me”, for else he would not sin. He reasons that God is not God indeed, but merely a powerful adversary, thus reasoning he exchanges the truth of God for a lie so that he might continue to sin. So, the chief end of reason is sin, notably idolatry and blasphemy. Reason recieves early attention in the scriptures, indeed it was through a call to reason by the serpent that mankind fell; God had declared the truth apart from reason, and the reason of man through the prompting of the devil made him judge the Word of God as less than certain.

If reason leads inevitably to sin and death, having done so throughout the scriptures from even the earliest times, then can we truly judge reason to be an expression of God’s eternal law as given to the governing of mankind? Long history – whether Jewish, Christian or Pagan – demonstrates that reason reliably leads peoples away from God. Reason is raised up against faith, for the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith. God has revealed to every man his eternal power and divine nature; yet as the scripture shows, our reasoning is futile and our foolish hearts become darkened, for despite claiming to be wise we become fools, exchanging that truth God revealed apart from reason for a lie derived through reason.

It is true that we may, at times, obtain through our industry some useful rules and regulations, and even be able to discern which path is more in agreement with the will of God. Yet, our ability to determine and discern such things results not from reason, but from the grace of God. Was it not declared by God that every thought of the heart of man was only evil continually? How then can we attribute any good thought or righteous judgement to ourselves? Indeed, it is telling that Paul tells of the fate of us sinners apart from grace, that where God ceases to restrain us we fall straightway into dishonourable passions and in depravity commit the most grieveous of sins. What Hooker percieves as the law of reason is perhaps then not law or reason but rather grace, and that it be called law is to be greatly regretted.

Why should this matter? Well, it all comes down to the Gospel. Just consider the simple but glorious truth – that Christ died for our sins and rose again. There is nothing complex about that statement, there is yet nothing in the grammar or syntax that would confuse a child. But, the Gospel is so strange to reason and in opposition to our fallen and self-centered thoughts, that it is impossible for mortal man to arrive at the Gospel through reason. Further, the evil heart of man will rather at every turn seek to use every tool it can to defeat the Gospel, and amongst the tools available the foremost is reason. The moment the seed of the Gospel is sown then sin attacks it from every angle, reasoning that it cannot mean what it means, that it cannot be true, that even if true it is inconvenient. Given this great assault, to which the scriptures testify amply, how ridiculous it is to raise up the proceeds of reason to being a law from God before and apart from scripture?

No, let us be very clear, that the righteous live by faith. It is not through reason that the Gospel can enter the heart, but by grace. It is not by reason then that we are saved, but it is reason that opposes our very salvation. Hooker’s reason itself is unreasonable by his own definition; for because it steadfastly resists the Gospel, so too does it resist God. As it resists God, it cannot be an expression of God’s eternal law in any form without God thereby being the author of evil and so not God at all.

What do you think? Is reason in itself a form of the eternal law of God as given man for his governing, or can the knowledge of God or his law only come from reason only in so much as it is moved through divine grace, a divine grace which we know can work quite apart from reason?

Forgiving others is unfair

We sometimes feel it unfair to forgive, and I think in many ways this feeling is right; it is unfair to forgive. When you forgive someone who has wronged you, then on an economic level you are coming out at a loss. Someone has wronged you, and you have been content to remain wronged. This is true for emotional wrongs just as much as physical acts.

If it’s unfair, then it follows that we don’t forgive because it is fair; rather, we forgive in spite of it being unfair. It is to be expected that we should not want to forgive others, for we do not wish to be unfair to ourselves. So, if we come to terms with the idea of forgiveness being essentially and fundamentally unfair then I suggest it becomes easier to think about the true reasons, motivations and limitations for forgiveness.

Often-times we delay forgiveness. We put off forgiving others until we come to a decision that the matter is so far past, better explained, and half-forgotten, so that it somehow feels easier to forgive. It’s harder to forgive when the wound is fresh; we feel that the cost is too high, that to forgive too much too soon would be too hard or too charitable for us.

Now, the root of forgiveness is love; to forgive someone we do not want to forgive is a pure, certain and direct statement of love. Yet, more than that it is a gloriously and mightily unfair act of love. To forgive in opposition to our own knowledge of what is just and fair is to make a real and costly sacrifice, to deny ourselves retribution and vengeance for the sake of the love we have for our fellow men.

The question then is not how we might forgive others, but where we might look to find that great love, to fill our hearts until they overflow with charity. The more perfectly we love, the more perfectly we will forgive, not through our own work but through the work of that love which is within us.

This, interestingly, is something that differentiates Christianity from the major religions; for it is this very story, a history of a love so deep that it could not bear to see just judgement on mankind. It is an account of a sacrifice so great and so very deeply unfair that not just one person was forgiven, but the sins of the whole world. The Gospel of John puts it in this very simple way “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son”. Is it possible for there to be an act more unfair than for Jesus Christ to be rejected, persecuted, beaten, mocked and put to death by hanging on a cross amongst thieves?

God could have stopped what happened at Golgotha at any time. God could have saved Jesus and spared him from death. It would have been fair and just to send angels to defend him. He didn’t; and that he didn’t was for you and for me, because he loved us so much that he was willing to pay such a price to achieve our forgiveness. God, our perfect judge, just punisher, and omnipotent creator came to earth as man to be judged unfairly, punished wickedly and destroyed even to death so that he could take onto himself the punishment and judgement of our sins. What Jesus did on the cross was to pay the greatest price of the greatest love. Jesus said “I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd gives his life for the sheep”; and this was his intention from the very beginning.

The Prophet Isaiah, writing around seven hundred years before Jesus was born, wrote movingly about what Jesus was to do for mankind. I’ve included an extract from Isaiah 53 below, although the whole chapter is deeply meaningful:

He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.

Here then, at the foot of a Roman cross, do we find that deep and pure love, that perfect charity from which comes true, perfect, and very very unfair forgiveness. Here then, in the midst of perfect love do we find perfect forgiveness. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him (John 3:16-17).

Perhaps when we feel we don’t want to forgive others, or want to to put it off until it seems less of a challenge, we might do well to remember the deep love that God has for us, that whilst we were yet sinners, he died for us (Romans 5:8). How dreadfully unfair, how terribly costly, how very humiliating – but yet, how gracious, how merciful and how loving – that God who is the very definition of righteousness should sacrifice so much for desperate sinners such as us. God didn’t wait until our sins were half-forgotten, nor did he wait for us to first apologise and mend our ways; rather he saved us when we did not seek him and in spite of our hatred and rejection of him.

Forgiveness then is not a matter of difficulty, but a matter of love. To forgive one another is never wrong, but as we’ve discussed, it is usually deeply unfair. But, let us rejoice in this very unfairness, for it is in this unfairness that we reflect the glow of the love our creator has for all mankind, that love that drove God to commit the most unfair act of all eternity to take away the sin of the world.