Chapter 13 is titled "Romance." It's was one of the most humorous chapters in the book to read. In it, Miller presented the analogy of human marital love with that of God's love for us. His anecdotes of dating and "finding the one" were hilarious and easy to empathize with, but again, we should not use romance as a metaphor of God's love. He does not seduce us with flowers, a nice restaurant, and candles. His love is expressed in terms of action and commitment, not mere romantic feelings.
"I mean that to be in a relationship with God is to be loved purely and furiously. And a person who thinks himself as unlovable cannot be in a relationship with God because he can't accept who God is; a Being that is love...," Paul says... [Pages 146-147]
In order to understand the theological implications of this comment (which is spoken by a married friend of Miller's, but Miller's tone indicates that he buys into it), one must understand that this comment is an enthymeme--a conclusion drawn from unmentioned premises. The premise is this: God's love for mankind is rooted in man's "being lovable." In other words, God's love in not rooted in God's character alone--despite whatever condition in which man may be. No, rather, it is also grounded in qualities that man possesses that make him lovable. Several times in the book Miller has qualified God's love as "unconditional", but now he tells us that man is "lovable." God's love cannot be unconditional if we deserve it, and if we do not deserve God's love, then we are not inherently lovable.
If God's love is truly unconditional (which it is), then it matters not that man is lovable (which he is, in fact, not). If man were lovable, possessing the qualities that deserve God's love, then the idea of free grace is completely obliterated. If you need more proof that Miller buys into this man-centered theology, listen to the closing words from a play Miller wrote, which are also the closing words of chapter 13.
God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand the gravity that drew Him, unto us.
Miller completely has it backwards here. Biblically speaking, it is God who draw us to Him. Here, Miller seems to think that somehow we have something, some quality, some attribute, who knows what, that created a "gravity that drew [God] unto us." It is God who is drawn to us in Miller's theology. We are the center of God's universe.
Moreover, I hate the word "risk" in relation to God. In order to truly say that God took a risk, one must also say that God does not know something. The concept of risk depends on the concept of chance, and chance depends on a lack on knowledge. These words of Miller's are an appeal to warm fuzzies that carry severe theological consequences. For you logicians and mathematicians:
God + Risk < Omniscience
For the rest of you, this means that if God could take a risk, God cannot be omniscient--He knows less than everything.
Chapters 14 and 15 deal with the importance of community. This is decent content, besides the endorsement of profanity [Page 179]. The devil's goal is to get you to cuss. ;-) (See my previous reviews to get this joke). Chapter 16 concerns the importance of faith involved with giving. This is also decent material, besides the bashing of conservatives on page 188.
Next review will complete chapters 17 - 20, and thus finish the book.
7 comments:
Brent--
Not having read Miller's book all the way through, I may be wrong in my assesment that follows. However, I think one should assume that Miller's discussion of humanity's "lovableness" is not rooted in being "deserving of love" (as you have characterized Miller's position), but rather in the fact that the creation of humanity was borne out of God's love, that humanity is intrisically lovable precisely because God has created humanity as the recipients of God's love.
I would agree, of course, that God's movements of love toward humanity are not exclusively because humanity is a "magnet" for God's love. After all, God exists apart from humanity in the eternal love of the relations of the Triune Godhead; in this sense, we can speak of God as "loving" without even needing to presuppose the existence of human persons. On the other hand, love without an object seems somewhat inconsistent. Therefore, perhaps Miller's analogy is not entirely off. If God has indeed created humanity to live within a relationship of love with God, then it is natural and, I think, fitting to speak of this innate lovableness of humanity as a draw on the heart of God.
I would disagree with you on your objections to the notion of "risk" in relation to God. While I do not think that "risk" can be taken too far, as if the eternal integrity of the Triune God could be imagined to be at risk, I think there is space within the fundamental relationship of divine/human love to speak of it, espeically if the discussion is divorced from abstract speculations about the eternal nature of God and rooted rather in the Incarnated person and work of Christ.
You note that your conception of divine omniscience is the particular crux of your objection. While certainly coherent, I think very good philosophical arguments can be made that would remove the need for a strict (and tenuous) equation of "omniscience" with "knowledge of everything." If a more nuanced conception of divine epistemology were pursued, one would have much greater ease with which to speak of divine "risk" in a philosophically compelling way.
I do thank you for your summaries of these chapters--I will have to take a look at this book when I have a chance.
Actually, Miller's position is more along the lines that "lovableness" is, in a sense, deserved. I haven't gotten to this chapter yet, but towards the end of the book, Miller says, "Something inside of me caused God to love me."
The goal of the book is make the unbeliever feel at ease with Christianity, and to aide this goal, Miller implies on several occasions that we are worth loving. If God's love is unconditional, then Miller shouldn't have to go through such great length to justify God's love for us.
I also misapplied the context of the closing words of ch 13. The "gravity" that drew God to us is God's love. My mistake on that part. However, as can be seen in saying "something inside me cause God to love me", there is more to this gravity than God in Miller's view.
Why talk about risk? Just as many argue that Christ's genuine temptation demands that He could sin, I would argue that in order for risk to be genuine, then failure must be a possible outcome, and the actual outcome cannot be known.
I am sure a decently consistent philosophical system could be constructed that defines omniscience in terms I would not and claims the possibility of Christ's failure to redeem anyone...
...but what would give such a system any credibility or authority? Why should I believe it over what is clear and explicit in Scripture concerning the omniscience of God?
Brent--
Thanks for the clarification on the "love" issue in re: Miller's thought: I think you are right that there is more operating here than the imago dei.
Per the question about why one would wish to redefine omniscience, I would answer the classical way in which it has bee propounded demands such a revision.
As we have talked about at length before, I would suggest that the very nature of "omniscience" (that is, a strict definition of "God knows everything") leads to some quite unpaletable conclusions.
1.) I'll use a syllogism to get at my point:
Premise A: God knows everything.
Premise B: God is eternal.
Conclusion: Therefore, everything that God knows is eternal.
That is, if God is understood to "know everything," and this eternally, it is quite difficult to separate that which God knows from that which is essential with God's being. To reject this proposition leads one to the second very disasterous conclusion:
2.) God knows everything because God has learned everything.
I would argue that the necessity of this conclusion is self-evident. After all, if God is eternal, and yet #1's conclusion is rejected, the only possible way in which to separate out the eternal knowledge (and self-knowledge) of God from that which is created is to posit that God has "come into" knowledge of that which God created. However,
3.) How can God create that which God does not know? How can God bring into being that of which God has no knowledge? To preserve the classical definition of omniscience can only be to retreat back to #1, which creates a perpetual cycle of confusion, contradictoriness, etc.
Now don't get me wrong: I am no open theist. In reality, OT's and CT's are cut of the same cloth: they both presuppose that omniscience requires exhaustive knowledge of all things. The only difference, really, is that the OT's and CT's hold different conceptions of what there is for God to know (CT's expand everything to include the hypothetical future, while OT's deny that the future exists even for God to know).
My objections, of course, get back to my beef with propositional language. Whenever the "omni-" statements are deployed, they must be qualified to such an extent that they no longer remain meaningful in their original deployment.
I think the "Eldridge books" (i.e. "Wild at Heart," etc.) also had a similar concept of risk, that was similarly dismantled by Reformed bloggers. I think it is hard to talk about God's calling us, or more basically, his creating us to begin with - in terms of risk because, as you say, he already knew what that would invovle (i.e. a cross) - so that creation becomes not so much an act of risk but of 'agape.' Still, one wonders if it is an imperfection in God's nature NOT to know risk - since for some reason we are so thrilled by it - which I guess is why Eldridge (whose whole worldveiw seems to be based upon a somewhat teenager-like need for thrills) wants to posit it to God.
The other reason it is difficult to talk about risk in relation to God (and knowledge too) is the vast mystery of the relationship between God and time. To take a risk from God's perspective would imply the existence of some "time" in which he did not "already" exist in which the consequences of the risky decision could "come to pass" from the point of view of God's own experience. I find this extremely difficult to conceptualize in any case for the One whom I suppose is above or outside of time.
However, I always want to be on my guard of "philosophizing" the wild and free and living God of the Bible so that he no longer looks anything like YHWH or Jesus Christ as he is presented in the sacred Scriptures (who seems often to be doing things we would not expect of a sublime, unmoved, philosopher's Divinity). There may be an appropriate tension there...
I think it is hard to talk about God's calling us, or more basically, his creating us to begin with - in terms of risk because, as you say, he already knew what that would invovle (i.e. a cross) - so that creation becomes not so much an act of risk but of 'agape.'
I'm not sure how a strictly "sovereign" conception of creation that "foresees" the necessity of a cross is an act of "agape." I would rather call it an act of neurosis.
Still, one wonders if it is an imperfection in God's nature NOT to know risk
I don't know that I would wish to posit the necessity of risk in the eternal nature of God, as if God's perfection requires divine experience of all that is possible to experience (although I could see that a very compelling philosophical argument could be made toward this end...). I would also be hesitant to argue that the nature of creation is such that risk is something imposed upon the eternal nature of God. Therefore, I would locate the possibility and--perhaps--actuality of risk in God to the mystery and crisis of Incarnation. As human logic cannot adequately encapsulate the meaning of this intersection of the human and divine, so also I think there is space to speak of "risk" in relation to God's interactions with human history.
The other reason it is difficult to talk about risk in relation to God (and knowledge too) is the vast mystery of the relationship between God and time. To take a risk from God's perspective would imply the existence of some "time" in which he did not "already" exist in which the consequences of the risky decision could "come to pass" from the point of view of God's own experience. I find this extremely difficult to conceptualize in any case for the One whom I suppose is above or outside of time.
I think you have made a reasonable argument here. This is why I would personally limit discussions of the "riskiness" of God's relationship to humanity in the crisis of Incarnation. Although it certainly is not reducible to it, the Incarnation necessarily changes the way in which we speak about God, as all speculative discussions about the eternal nature of God must be qualified by the mystery of the Uncreated One becoming created in the person of Christ.
However, I always want to be on my guard of "philosophizing" the wild and free and living God of the Bible so that he no longer looks anything like YHWH or Jesus Christ as he is presented in the sacred Scriptures (who seems often to be doing things we would not expect of a sublime, unmoved, philosopher's Divinity). There may be an appropriate tension there...
Good point.
So far, this has been a very good discussion. Sorry I haven’t been able to contribute. Now I have a little time, so here are my $0.02…
To exist concerning the risk of God:
I'll use a syllogism to get at my point:
Premise A: God knows everything.
Premise B: God is eternal.
Conclusion: Therefore, everything that God knows is eternal.
Your conclusion is unclear. Are you concluding that things that are in the contents of God’s knowledge are eternal because God is eternal? (i.e. The rock on my driveway is eternal because God knew of it eternally.) Or are you saying that the contents of God’s knowledge are eternal? (i.e. The rock is not eternal although God knew of the rock eternally.)
In the former, the syllogism would be only valid if one presupposed that God’s knowledge of something is the thing itself. I do not hold to this premise. In the latter case, I would certainly agree. The fact He is eternal certainly would mean His knowledge is eternal.
I would also not have a problem with saying that the contents of God’s knowledge are essential to His being. All of his attributes are part of God’s nature, and if God is omniscient, then the knowledge of everything is essential to his being. However, to say that creation and all therein are essential to God’s being because God knew of them before their existence in time is mere speculation, and cannot be supported by any means of revelation that we have. The Scripture is clear as to God’s omniscience…
Daniel:
Still, one wonders if it is an imperfection in God's nature NOT to know risk - since for some reason we are so thrilled by it - which I guess is why Eldridge (whose whole worldveiw seems to be based upon a somewhat teenager-like need for thrills) wants to posit it to God.
I would say that for God to know risk demands an imperfection in his nature: limited knowledge. What thrills us is not a means of revelation into God’s nature. Lust thrills us, for example. Along this line of reasoning, one must also conclude: if God were incapable of lust. then God must have an imperfection in His nature.
Exist:
I think you have made a reasonable argument here. This is why I would personally limit discussions of the "riskiness" of God's relationship to humanity in the crisis of Incarnation. Although it certainly is not reducible to it, the Incarnation necessarily changes the way in which we speak about God, as all speculative discussions about the eternal nature of God must be qualified by the mystery of the Uncreated One becoming created in the person of Christ.
I would agree. Christ becoming man must the way in which we understand the nature of God. Christ, being God and man, still possesses the attributes of God as well as the attributes of un-fallen man. This is a mystery as to how this is possible, and God’s people will spend an eternity learning how God accomplished such an amazing thing. Though, I personally would not say Christ became “created” in the sense that it defines the entirety of his being.
On the other hand, Christ spoke of his pre-incarnate existence, so we cannot limit Christ to a mere creaturely status. He remains to be God-very-God, and risk still involves the possibility of failure. The Scriptures are clear in saying that God does not fail, and who would want to hand his life over to a God who could fail?
Just because Christ was hungry does not mean that God's nature depends on food. Likewise, just because Christ was man does not mean that risk is possible with God.
Your conclusion is unclear. Are you concluding that things that are in the contents of God’s knowledge are eternal because God is eternal? (i.e. The rock on my driveway is eternal because God knew of it eternally.) Or are you saying that the contents of God’s knowledge are eternal? (i.e. The rock is not eternal although God knew of the rock eternally.)
What I am saying is that if one posits that God has eternal knowledge of all things (unqualified); and as God's knowledge is essential with God's being; I honestly do not see how one can get around the conclusion that that which God knows eternally is essential with God's being. Now here, I am operating under the assumption that "knowledge" corresponds to that which is actual --after all, this is how humans use the term (I have knowledge of those things which attain in reality). Therefore, if this common definition of knowledge is extrapolated onto God (which is classically done in the concept of "omniscience"), that which is the object of God's knowledge must attain in reality. However, as God's knowledge of all things (that attain in reality) is necessarily eternal, one must naturally conclude that God's knowledge of all things requires the eternal existence of these same things, for knowledge of that which does not attain in reality (either for God or humans) is a nonsensical conception of knowledge.
In the former, the syllogism would be only valid if one presupposed that God’s knowledge of something is the thing itself. I do not hold to this premise. In the latter case, I would certainly agree. The fact He is eternal certainly would mean His knowledge is eternal.
I am not necessarily saying that God's knowledge of "x" is "x" itself. However, if the logical conclusion of classical omniscience vis-a-vis the eternal nature of God is taken fully, one must conclude that the God's eternal knowledge of "x" requires the eternal existence of "x," for what can be the content of knowledge if not the object itself? Therefore, while one may conceptually bifurcate the knowledge from the thing signified, the logic is left unaltered, for the very knowledge of "x" requires the eternal existence of "x" so that God may have "all" knowledge of it from eternity.
I would also not have a problem with saying that the contents of God’s knowledge are essential to His being. All of his attributes are part of God’s nature, and if God is omniscient, then the knowledge of everything is essential to his being. However, to say that creation and all therein are essential to God’s being because God knew of them before their existence in time is mere speculation
Ah, but here your language betrays you. After all, the concept of "before time" is really a false way of speaking about reality apart from the linear, causal framework of creation. In a sense, the actualization of things in space/time does not fundamentally alter the perception of said things to the divine mind, for they remain known (and necessarily actualized) in eternity so that they might be the objects of divine knowledge.
, and cannot be supported by any means of revelation that we have. The Scripture is clear as to God’s omniscience…
That is fine. However, the fact remains that the simple assertion of "omniscience" cannot be made without qualification, for to press the meaning of the word to its fullest logic, as I have shown, devolves quickly and definitively into absurdity. As before, language fails again and ultimately deceives us into speaking nonsense.
I would agree. Christ becoming man must the way in which we understand the nature of God. Christ, being God and man, still possesses the attributes of God as well as the attributes of un-fallen man. This is a mystery as to how this is possible, and God’s people will spend an eternity learning how God accomplished such an amazing thing. Though, I personally would not say Christ became “created” in the sense that it defines the entirety of his being.
I'm not sure I understand your objection to the language of "created" in relation to the Incarnate Christ. There is a rich, historical usage of such terms to speak of the mystery of the Unoriginate God becoming human in the person of Jesus Christ.
On the other hand, Christ spoke of his pre-incarnate existence, so we cannot limit Christ to a mere creaturely status.
Of course. I could not agree more. But that does not mean that Jesus' creaturely status is unimportant--it is incredibly important for those to whom he came.
He remains to be God-very-God, and risk still involves the possibility of failure. The Scriptures are clear in saying that God does not fail, and who would want to hand his life over to a God who could fail?
I fail to see why the concept of "risk" presupposes the possibility of "failure"...
Just because Christ was hungry does not mean that God's nature depends on food. Likewise, just because Christ was man does not mean that risk is possible with God.
This is true--however, one cannot speak of Christ in terms of humanity bifurcated from divinity. They are united in his singular person, the mystery of Incarnation. In a very real and mysteriously important sense, God experienced hunger, thirst and even death in the person of Christ. Risk would seem to be perfectly admissible within the context of such considerations.
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