Ramblings and Prognostications

I recently tried to overnight a package, paying $190 for “guaranteed “ delivery by the end of the next business day. It didn’t happen. Do you remember the familiar mantra of the US postal service? “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” Apparently, Acts of Nature are no longer covered under the fine print of “guaranteed.” It has moved up the authoritative ladder to “Acts of God,” which no man can dispute nor receive a partial refund!

Photo by Mediamodifier on Unsplash

I find it paradoxical, if not amusing, that a federal entity surrenders authority to the divine in this but little else. My post takes a gloomy turn. Nonetheless, I do predict a hopeful future.

In Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis makes clever use of “authority.”

“Authority is either special or general, and either human or divine.”

—C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory, 80

To the human authority, like governmental agencies, one cooperates with some exceptions. Extremes are Lewis’ warning. A stalwart stance upon one’s rights shouldn’t root too deeply when the Divine proffers the sound principle of forbearance in light of logical delays—like snow storms. So, I accepted the Postmaster’s finely-lined “Divine Acts” and did not pursue the “guarantee” any further.

Likewise, there are times when reading the Bible profits from a broader view of its inherent principles in light of its detailed storyline. To this, C.S. Lewis weighs the question of Pacifism in its various forms. He was writing when the world was overcome with a second “great war.” I can sum up by quoting King Solomon’s Ecclesiastes: “To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven” (Eccl. 3:1).

For example, Lewis rejects the interpretation that “turning the cheek,” in Matthew 5:38-40, means, in all instances, that one must offer a passive response. I agree, adding a meaningful interpretation I once heard in a class at Israel Bible Center, entitled “Roman Military in Israel,” by Dr. Christopher Zeichmann. In Yeshua’s culture, the left hand, to put it bluntly, served as “toilet paper.” Thus, they only used the right hand to strike deals, and for that matter, to slap faces. When “turning the cheek,” offering the left side of the face, the slapper must use the palm of the right hand to deliver a second blow. Slapping with the palm signified equal status and those offended could seek legal restitution. You may offer the left cheek, but the other party will incur humiliation at striking an equal and legal ramifications if pursued. What appears as pacifism, then, is really—like a boxer—clever slips and rolls.

Likewise, Yeshua finished his lesson by noting that the Roman military could require civilians to carry their gear for one mile (Matt. 5:41-42). Again, in his culture, if the civilian refused, then Roman law allowed the civilian to be beaten. However, the soldier could incur punishment if a second mile was demanded. Yeshua’s listeners may have chuckled at his clever balance between forbearance and dignity. The takeaway: there is a limit to pacifism. Yeshua advocated for temperance while maintaining the dignity of what it means to be human and created in God’s image.

Overall, I agree with Lewis’ stance on extremes, and I think it presents a biblical principle: There are exceptions to the exception. In the examples above, Yeshua ingeniously blends the extremes of passive and defensive responses. He blends the passive response of turning the cheek or going the extra mile with the humiliation and trouble those responses heap upon an adversary. Lewis is right. Dwelling in any extreme is dangerous. But sometimes, the extreme is the proper response. The extreme becomes the exception where human authority attempts to thwart the Divine. One must stand rooted in God’s truths.

So here is the prognostication I offer: In the end, God’s ways are eternal—never outmoded. But again, C. S. Lewis says it best:

“All that is not eternal is eternally out of date.”

—Preface, God in the Dock, xii

What? You were hoping for more—something profound? For the most part, we overcome bit by bit with daily spiritual tools, but there may come a necessity for an unwavering and exceptional stance. Then, we offer a spiritual “left cheek” to render the enemy off balance. We go another mile to show that transhumanism is the age-old waywardness present in the “fallen ones,” or that identity confusion is the way of the teen years—a normal process to be wisely weathered. That extra mile sets the enemy’s teeth on edge. We offer a patient smile in the parking lot when someone manuvers ahead of us, or when the Postmaster highlights the fine print, declaring pardoxically that even this federal service submits to the Divine.

Humans navigate these mundane events as well as the aberrant ones. Navigation is part of the human condition and there is only one answer to it: Take God out of the dock. Judge ourselves against God’s precepts through honest contemplation. Don’t hide the Faith unless you offer it through parables or ply it between the pages of clever stories about a lion in mysterious lands reached by timid but curious seekers.

Now, of course, I use Lewis’ term “dock,” according to his usage in “God in the Dock.” Our present venacular thinks about the tool bar at the bottom of our computers. I just “hid” annoying apps that vie for my attention by clicking “Remove from Dock.” They no longer linger in my periphery.

Lewis dedicates a large swath in “God in the Dock” to the changing meanings of words. For him, “dock” refers to a courtroom defendant’s box where Man is the Judge and God must defend his motives and means. God must account for the horrors against humanity. Isn’t that always the case? Isn’t it the same circular theodicy— generation by generation: “If God exists, why is there so much evil?”

The prognostication remains the same: God’s ways are eternal so he wins. He was not surprised when Habakkuk or Job or David the Psamist asked the age-old questions of theodicy and he isn’t taken off balance when we ask (Hab. 1:5-11; Job 3:11; Ps. 13:1-3). Maybe these questions lingered at the edges of Judas Escariot’s desire to see justice in his lifetime, circumstance, and understanding. Again, God’s ways are eternal and established.

This conversation started with ramblings over fine print escape clauses rampant in human constructs, like the US Postal Service. Surely, the high standards of yester-year, when neither rain nor sleet prevented the trusted steed from delivering letters of hope to awaiting war brides (thanks to the 6888) or news from universities with letters of acceptance. We live in an age of instantaneous digital clicks. Yet, there is something to be said for the lofty standards of a bygone era: hand shakes were unbreakable bonds, “fine print” refered to high quality calligraphy, and God’s ways stood uncompromisingly in the face of persecution. Stand up, Church; Mankind is in the dock!¹

1. C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1970), 268.