Saturday, January 16, 2010

Can genuine faith lead one beyond orthodoxy?

Many Christians are pretty comfortable with the idea of progressive revelation - the notion that more ancient people groups might have engaged with a less perfect revelation of God's true nature than we do today. This move, among other things, serves to free up some room for modern Christians to reject certain ancient practices, perhaps even doctrines, which strike them as outmoded, archaic, or even flat wrong.

Scripture seems to provide some justification for this notion, i.e. in books like Romans and Hebrews which outline the rejection of the law in favor of a new covenant of grace. This could be taken as an instance of progressive revelation.

E.g., “Now if the ministry that brought death, which was engraved in letters on stone, came with glory, so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory, fading though it was, will not the ministry of the Spirit be even more glorious? If the ministry that condemns men is glorious, how much more glorious is the ministry that brings righteousness! For what was glorious has no glory now in comparison with the surpassing glory. And if what was fading away came with glory, how much greater is the glory of that which lasts! Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to keep the Israelites from gazing at it while the radiance was fading away. But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (2 Cor. 3:7-18)

An explanation of such paradigm shifts within God's larger program is provided by the dispensationalists. These are going to say that, as much as the methodology may change, there is an unbroken harmony between them all, and each are in their own way compatible with some more fundamental principle which is essential to God's nature.

A common example is the variant expressions of love. A parent may at times express his love for his children by showing affection, at other times through discipline; at times through intimacy, at other times through imposed distance. All expressions, however, are consistent with the more fundamental principle which motivates them - that is, love.

And the idea is that a well-developed acquaintance with the principle reveals that which is essential to God's nature, and necessarily underlies his every action. We hence become empowered to reject as fixed or essential any particular expression, or 'dispensation', of God's love. This kind of understanding presumably frees one from various forms of legalism, and allows one to take a stand against things which have a foundation in tradition or standard orthodoxy.

E.g., "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven...
"You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart." (Matt. 5:17-20, 27-28)

The revolutionary character of Christ's teaching seemingly finds sanction in an understanding such as that described above - when one understands the principles from which orthodoxy derives, one may dispense with the orthodoxy in favor of the principle.

"Before this faith came, we were held prisoners by the law, locked up until faith should be revealed.So the law was put in charge to lead us to Christ that we might be justified by faith. Now that faith has come, we are no longer under the supervision of the law." (Gal. 3:24-25)

But how far does such liberty extend? Christians have deemed heretical those views which presume to affirm revelations of God's nature and plan for mankind which extend beyond that of Christ. Joseph Smith, for instance, of the Mormon sect made such claims, and orthodox Christians categorically reject them. They do this on several bases, one of which is the following passage of scripture:

"I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: If anyone adds anything to them, God will add to him the plagues described in this book. And if anyone takes words away from this book of prophecy, God will take away from him his share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book." (Rev. 22:18-19)

Although this passage only speaks of adding to the content of 'the prophecy of this book', i.e., the book of Revelation as recorded by John, it is commonly applied to that further end as well as a sort of logical implication. Other passages of scripture seem to corroborate this interpretation, such as those in which Jesus warns his followers to be wary of false prophets who will come announcing his return, etc. Fair enough.

But here is the question. How deep can the rabbit hole go within the confines of orthodox Christian doctrine? How much can a Christian's understanding of God's nature transcend or diverge from orthodox Christianity before it becomes heresy? C.S. Lewis in one book uses the term 'Tao' to refer to the broadest, most fundamental basis of all truth, out of which systematized Christianity derives. But he speaks also of a freedom to improvise improvements/ adaptations to the system as one becomes more deeply familiarized with the Tao itself, the source of truth.

Liberalist movements within Christianity largely tell the story of man's attempt to stretch and adapt orthodox Christianity to accommodate certain difficulties which the original forms seem to neglect or misrepresent. Many feel like they absolutely must make allowance for such 'improvements' to preserve the viability of the system in the face of science and a million other factors. Between the options of adapting or abandoning, they concede to adapt.

So, some alter their belief structure to accommodate problematic features of their experience. Others, I believe, follow other influences to similarly foreign places. Internal conviction, even that believed to be of divine origin, might motivate these changes. The development of denominations within the church, the launching of humanitarian or religious movements, etc. can probably be traced back to a nagging impulse which the possessor interpreted as a divine calling or command. They are all alike improvising on the general theme.

Can genuine faith, then, lead one beyond orthodoxy into apparent heresy? What are the safeguards for the 'pilgrims', those that brave the journey beyond the tradition into potentially deeper revelations of God's nature and intentions for mankind? Kierkegaard writes on this theme in his book, Fear and Trembling. Here he considers the story of Abraham, the 'father of faith'. Kierkegaard takes his situation to be paradigmatic of the life of faith - a journey into the unknown, a journey in which one relates directly to God, circumventing even those ethical prescriptions which are typically thought to facilitate the life of faith. He asks, 'is there a teleological suspension of the ethical' such as would justify Abraham in following God's calling even to the alter where he would sacrifice his beloved son? Why divorce one from the ethical norm in order to initiate the life of faith? This question consumes Kierkegaard, and for good reason, I think.

There's so much more to this dilemma that I can't develop right now, but I think the question has been adequately contextualized to fuel initial discussion. Where might faith lead us within the legitimate boundaries of Christianity? How far beyond or outside of orthodoxy, and with what stipulations? When has one definitively transgressed his/her doctrinal commitments? What is the essence of heresy such that one might recognize how to avoid it while remaining faithful to God's call on their lives - even, if necessary, beyond or outside of traditional orthodoxy?