Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Unwise God

Some of my friends--my spouse included--have given me a hard time for the number of times I start a sentence with 'In the first-century.' The initial context that the first Christians inhabited intrigues me. Recently, I've read a number of books on concepts of forgiveness among the Greeks and Romans to better understand how the typical guy on the street who didn't read (or even know about) what we call the Old Testament would have understood the offer that in a guy named Jesus was forgiveness of sins.
Seneca and Socrates, back to back, in Pergamon Museum, Berlin

One of the authors I read is Seneca--a contemporary of the Apostle Paul and a shaping influence in the Roman Empire. Seneca served as a tutor for Nero, which sounds like a bad role since most of us only know about the terrible ending to Nero's reign of megalomania and pyrotechnics.  But Nero started out a good emperor under the influence of Seneca. For the record, once Nero went totally nuts, Seneca was involved in a plot to assassinate him. For this, Seneca was forced to commit suicide by Nero in 65 AD; the same year that tradition says Nero killed the apostle Paul. Enough history lesson, I'll get on with the post.

Seneca was a Stoic philosopher, one of the worldviews mentioned when during Paul's interaction in Athens (Acts 17).  Seneca wrote a number of moral essays to Nero that have been preserved. One of these is titled "On Mercy." In this essay Seneca argues that giving people mercy is a good thing. But he considers giving people forgiveness a foolish thing. Mercy means that someone is guilty but is given a lesser punishment or perhaps no punishment. But, mercy still views the person as guilty.

He argues that forgiveness or pardon is foolishness, since it sees a guilty person as now innocent. One of the things that bothered Seneca about forgiveness was that mercy gives one options. Mercy gives one freedom to determine what punishment if any will be exacted. Forgiveness takes away the options. Once you forgive someone there is no punishment that can be given.

Consider his words below.


“Pardon is given to a man who ought to be punished; but a wise man does nothing which he ought not to do, omits to do nothing which he ought to do; therefore he does not remit a punishment which he ought to exact. But in a more honorable way he will bestow upon you that which you wish to obtain by pardon; for the wise man will show mercy, be considerate, and rectify; he will do the same that he would do if pardoned, and yet he will not pardon, since he who pardons admits that he has omitted to do something which he ought to have done.” (Seneca, On Mercy 2.7.1–2)

Seneca would have understood the offer of forgiveness in the name of Jesus as foolishness (cf. 1 Cor 1:23; Acts 17:18-20)--something that a wise person would not do. The idea that God would forgive people would have been outside what Seneca could see as wise. Why wouldn't God just be merciful to people but continue to hold over their heads the reality of their guilt and a fear of later condemnation? Why wouldn't God just be merciful and give a lesser punishment to his people? These options would have been wiser in Seneca's eyes.

Yet, in Jesus an offer exists for forgiveness. The earliest followers of Jesus could stand in the streets of Jerusalem and say to the very people that killed Jesus. "The God of our ancestors raised Jesus from the dead—whom you killed by hanging him on a cross. God exalted him to his own right hand as Prince and Savior that he might bring Israel to repentance and forgive their sins." (Acts 5:30-31)


I'm grateful for forgiveness--that God would no longer hold my own guilt over my head. I can understand that Seneca and others may think it foolish, perhaps unbelievable. But, I'm grateful that "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Romans 8:1).

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Turning Shades of Brown

One of the things our kids have enjoyed about Texas has been the lizards and toads around the yard. The most exciting of these is the anole lizard. They dart up trees, climb walls and escape most attempts to capture them.

I impressed myself by snagging one of them last night. I held it out for the girls to see it and then put it on William's arm. After the anole scampered away, I captured it again. But this time it quickly changed from the bright green to dark brown right in my hand. Apparently, this little creatures change color when they become stressed.

In addition to the sheer amazement of seeing this transformation first-hand--pun intended--I thought about how I respond to stress and pressure. Clearly, I don't change colors. Unfortunately, some of the changes in me are not so easily detected. I can slip into 'worst-case' imagination and quickly conceive of all the bad things that might happen to me in light of this new challenge. I've found over the years that under stress I react more emotionally and at times less rationally (not that I'm in favor of Stoicism--I'll post about the Stoics later this week). I can lose perspective on reality and fail to remember how God has provided again and again in my life.

What about you? How do you respond under stress? Do you change colors? If so, please post a photo.