Speaking in Tongues: How I went from being a Cessationist to Receiving Spiritual Gifts

Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues, and to still another the interpretation of tongues. All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.

1 Corinthians 12:7-11

Amongst contemporary Christians, there seems to be a great deal of division about Spiritual Gifts. There is disagreement as to whether God continues to pour out these gifts upon the Church. This discussion tends to focus upon the gift of tongues, where one speaks or sings in a language they do not know to the glory of God. In this blog I will not offer a systematic account of the gift of tongues, nor will I evaluate the arguments surrounding their validity and efficacy. Rather, I want to share how God has blessed me in this area of my life.

When I was a teenager, I was fortunate enough to attend a cell group at St John’s Church of England in Birmingham. Every week we would meet together, a bunch of guys in the same year at school, and we would study the Bible, pray with each other and have a good time. We had some wonderful leaders who were very patient, encouraging and loving in their guidance of us. Often the Thursday night we would meet would be the highlight of my week.

This cell group was part of the youth set up at St John’s. Every year, the youth of St John’s would go away to an event called ‘Soul Survivor’, a festival where young people from all over the UK would come to worship God, receive excellent teacher and open their hearts in response to the grace of the Lord. A notable feature of this event was that many people had their first encounters with the Spirit, with gifts poured out upon the youth. There would be stories of healings, ecstatic experiences, supernatural signs and much more. This tended to have a powerful effect on those who went: for weeks afterwards they would have such a joy in the Lord, having a hunger to receive more of God in their lives, allowing His love and power to rule them.

However, there was at least one dissenting voice in all of this: mine. At that time, my faith was tied very closely to my trust in the power of reason. I loved philosophy (I still do!), and my studies convinced me more and more that the truth about reality could be discovered by thought alone. After a long struggle, I was assured of the veracity of Christianity in part by apologetic arguments, such as the ontological argument and the historical evidence for the resurrection. I believed Christianity was supremely rational (which it is!) and anything that deviated from what I considered provable by reason could not be affirmed.

Consequently, I was sceptical about these claims coming back from Soul Survivor, that people had had supernatural experiences. That is not how the world works, I thought. People may have got healed in Jesus’ day, but people don’t get miraculous healing any more. The apostles may have spoken in tongues, and it may be possible today, but without sufficient evidence this is from God I cannot believe it to be so. Without it being clear this is from God and not just mass hysteria, that it is not the manipulation of people’s emotions and that it does not require the abandonment of rational criteria, there is no basis to put much stock in any of this.

Yet this was not solely an intellectual objection to the gifts of the Spirit being present today. That was how I dressed it up, as a problem for the rational person to face, to work out through philosophical reasoning. However, I wasn’t merely sceptical of the supernatural activity of God, I was positively antagonistic to such power.

I remember how in response to the youth leader encouraging the young people to get booked up for Soul Survivor, I wrote a blog post justifying why I would not be going. It was rather visceral, seeking to decimate the credibility of many of the claims people had to having received spiritual gifts. In a rhetorical flourish, I even made a point of saying that Soul Survivor shared its name with a Rolling Stones song about devil worship. I think this fruitless comment was an expression of my total antipathy to the possibility of God’s miraculous power. Although I gave it lip service, in reality I rejected any conception of God’s salvation and love which went beyond the comfortable life I was living. These strange and unusual phenomena were not commensurable with the implicit Christian naturalism I had embraced: all we need is God’s forgiveness, we are only justified by faith, we don’t need anything more than that. There is a sense in which that is true, in that all we need is found in God and God alone. Yet this anger, this utter contempt for God’s instruments for building up His Church was not out of love, faith or hope, but an utter contempt for the challenging and wonderful grace which God had manifested in these people’s lives.

Before continuing, I want to make sure it is clear that I am not saying that all those who reject spiritual gifts do so for the reasons I did. I am just trying to be truthful to why I abhorred the gifts of the Spirit: their presence did not easily with my conception of God, whose essence was reason, not love. And there wasn’t a chance that I was going to be practicing them.

Let us now jump to third year in university. I had just moved into Edinburgh, living away from home for the first time in my life. I needed to find a new church to attend. Given some people on my course wouldn’t stop talking about a place called Kings Church, I thought I would go along and see what all the fuss was about. After one service I knew why. God was doing wonders in communities lives: they shared in Christ’s joy in the Father, Christ’s love for His people. They celebrated their salvation by grace through faith alone, their sanctification by the love of God, their empowerment in the Spirit. They sought the glory of God and exalted His greatness. Ultimately, for all their faults God had engendered in them, by His love, a love for Him and each other. Whilst in form it was different from where I had gone before, in content this was what I was looking for, a grace filled community. Thus I stayed (and am still there!)

Kings is a charismatic church, which celebrates the gifts of the spirit in corporate and private worship. Thus, one might expect that when a person sang a tongue in one of the first services I attended that I would not have returned. But in those years between St John’s and Kings God had been working in me, and I had begun to recognise that what mattered was not the style of worship but God. God’s love is the precondition of all worship, Christ’s mediation the basis of our salvation, the Spirit the source of new life. He had stirred my heart to be more understanding of these gifts, because he gave me eyes to see that Jesus was present. I may not have been comfortable, and I may have not thought these gifts were for me (they were for the emotional people), but I was happy to stay because God had called me to Kings to receive more of His love.

As I have said, whilst I no longer abhorred the supernatural, I continued to find them challenging (and still do!) and did not believe they were for me. It never entered my sphere of thought that maybe God would want to work these in my life. After all, I was a philosophy and theology student: my life was for ideas, not miracles.

That all changed at the Student Weekend away. Given the teaching at Kings and encouragement to receive spiritual gifts, I had sought tongues and had in private prayed out in heavenly languages. Yet I wasn’t sure if it was authentic or just me pretending to have the gift. By myself, I had no way of telling whether I was just comforting myself or whether this was the power of God.

The weekend’s focus was the power of the Holy Spirit. This covered a whole range of areas, but at its heart we were receiving instruction to trust in God’s deliverance in all situations, and expect God’s activity as a response to prayer. Amazing things happened: people were healed, some confessed Christ for the first time. All were affected with a hunger for the Spirit, and many were filled. In my case, I had had on my heart for a long time the issue of tongues. God had previously called me to share a tongue in corporate worship, but I always said “next time Lord.” I feared the response of others over loving the will of the Lord. And I knew it wasn’t right, but the fear always gripped me. Worship at the weekend away was no different: during worship God put it on my heart to share a tongue. And again, I tried to put it off, running away like Jonah from that God had called me to do in that moment. It was existentially painful.

However, God’s grace conquers all obstacles to His kingdom. And so He gave me Himself, and in doing so I had a new strength. So I went up the front, not by my power but His. And He gave me a song – a heavenly language to sing. I did not know the words in advance: I just knew what to sing. As verification and an encouragement to others, God provided an interpretation, sung out so all could be edified by the Holy Spirit.

Following this, I had such a sense of peace: I knew God was with and for me. Subsequently, I have shared tongues at other student events. But this past Sunday God blessed me again. Whilst having received tongues with other students, who I know and have good friendships with, I had never shared one with the whole church. That was a step to far: what happens if the gift disappears when I get up the front? What happens if it sounds like gobbledygook and ruins people’s time with God? And so, like in the student groups, I always ran away when God wanted me to speak out.

So this Sunday was no different. God had opened my heart to Him, pouring out His grace on the congregation. His love was overwhelming, so satisfying and joyous. At its climax, I asked “Lord, let me offer my life to you. How can I respond?” And in a moments flash, I heard in the depths of my soul “share your tongue”. I went from ecstasy to dread. I asked that he would ask for something else, I pleaded, I grovelled. And my spirit felt empty. I knew my shame: I had just rejected the living God! It pierced me to the core of my existence. In that moment I felt like Peter, denying my Lord out of fear of man.

But the love of God knows no bounds, and God continued to love me then and there. In that assurance, in that rock which is the foundation of all I am, I was given a new power, a new motivation, a new strength to get up and share a tongue. So I did. And by the glory of God, an interpretation was given, encouraging and uplifting us all. It was great to see God using these gifts: the whole room seemed to respond with praise of God! Once again, God had brought me, by His mercy, to speak in tongues, despite my rebellious nature, to His eternal and immortal glory.

I have written this piece not to emphasise that all people should speak in tongues, nor that tongues is a good thing in itself. God’s greatest gift is Himself: this alone is the basis of salvation. It is Jesus, not tongues, which is the ground of our justification and sanctification, it is Him who provides the assurance that we are sons and daughters of God. It is God’s gift of Himself as Father, Son and Spirit which frees us from sin and death, gives us new life and allows us to rest freely and certainly on and in Him.

No, I wrote this piece as a witness to the patience and mercy of God in this one are of my life. As I hope has been made clear, I have vociferously railed against the gift of tongues. Not in the search of righteousness or godliness, but out of a hardened heart. In this, God has demonstrated His grace: He took me, a man who hated the gift of tongues, who would run and deny my Lord, and gave me the gift to glorify Him. This is how our Lord often works: He works in our weaknesses. He takes those who run, those who rebel, people like Jonah and Peter, and through His Spirit transforms them in to people who would do anything to proclaim His name. So it is with me in this case – I was the most unlikely candidate to speak in tongues, to edify and bless others through this gift. But God chose me for this role, so I could be an example to others so others may believe in Him and receive eternal life. His is the glory, the holiness and the praise!

So I hope this encourages you, the reader, in your walk with God. If He can take a man like me who was opposed to the gift of tongues and give them to me, He can take whatever obstacle, sin, pain, suffering, evil in your life and overcome it. He can take you from unbelief to faith, from hatred to love, apathy to hunger, sadness to joy, emptiness to joy. He can take the worst of us and work through it to make something wonderful. And this is most true in our salvation: He takes rebels, who would seek His death, and remakes them to love Him. So take heart in the amazing love of God, which turned a hater of tongues into someone who practices them. And He can do the same in you.

A Very Different Response to the Syrian Conflict

The world has been stung in recent weeks, as the conflict in Syria has developed into an even more tragic affair. With chemical weapons being used to inflict excruciating suffering upon civilians, it is hardly surprising that the West has sought to punish such actions and prevent further use of these monstrous tools of war through military strikes. I will argue that this approach to Syria is bound to fail, and an entirely new approach is needed to international politics, as the current traditions of force and power have failed to stop suffering ever since the conception of the state.

David Cameron and Barack Obama are brave men. Standing in the legacy of Iraq, they represent peoples who are vastly opposed to military intervention in the Middle East. They are confronted by Vladimir Putin, a canny international operative who will halt at every turn their quest’s against the Assad regime due to Russia’s influence there. There seems to be little support for any missile strike whatsoever. Yet they defiantly condemn the chemical attacks in Syria and propose military responses to Assad’s regime.

The main reason for this politically risky gamble is the protection of civilians across the world. The thinking is, if you allow one chemical attack to pass by unchallenged, then not only will the regime in question continue to implement such vile forces, but other, more deadly opponents might start to use them too. At its heart, Syrian intervention is about international standards. Anti-western countries like Iran and North Korea cannot be allowed to think they can also use chemical weapons scotch free, so the USA, UK and France have all been vigorously proposing neutralisation of Assad’s chemical stores through missile strikes. This will not only defend the West’s interests, but protect individuals from senseless suffering.

However, this approach to the evils of the world will not change anything. For centuries, people have tried to solve their problems by hitting them with the ‘big stick’. They have attempted to depose tyrants, subdue an enemy, destroy corruption and much more by military power. Yet, it has changed nothing. When one king of woe falls, another rises up to take his place. The West has deposed countless leaders, only for even more terrible foes to be born. By removing the tyrant by his own tools (force and violence), we do not end the cycle of suffering, but only sustain it, we ourselves becoming tyrannical ourselves. This process of making war to rid an evil never works, because the evil still persists, and we become part of the problem. This is best demonstrated by the French Revolution: initiated to help bring economic stability and prosperity to starving peasants, King Louis XVI was violently usurped. But it was not Puss in Boots who took the reigns of power. No, it was a group of vicious men, eventually succeeded Robespierre, the architect of the ‘Great Terror’, gaining rule over the torn people of France. History shows that all military power does, even when motivated by good intentions, prolongs the sufferings of the world’s people. Violence has not solved any problems, and there is no reason to suppose it would in Syria.

It was the great Roman historian Livy who said ‘The outcome corresponds less to expectations in war than in any other case whatsoever.’ I can testify to this through playing Rome 2: Total War. Leading the Athenian people, I had allied myself to Sparta, whose military might I was no match for. Whilst they were away making war on far off countries, they had left the town of Sparta relatively undefended, trusting that I would not attack. But they were wrong. I took my army at Crete and headed north, expecting to crush the Spartan resistance and claim a great prize. However, on my way, I was intercepted by a fleet of Barbarians, who just wanted to spoil the party. Whilst I defeated them, they had killed half of my men, leaving my army rather depleted. Thus, when I attacked Sparta, whilst my forces fought valiantly, the enemy prevailed, and consequently besieged Athens herself! What had been perceived on my part as a potential romp to victory had ended in catastrophic failure.

If this is the case in a video game, how much more is it true in reality! Part of the reason why military power never succeeds in eradicating the structural problems of suffering is because their outcomes often have far reaching consequences one cannot simply predict. Attacking Syria can unleash all manner of horrors, igniting the conflict further, inspiring terrorism, allowing radical groups to ascertain power etc. Those military hawks who desire aggressive responses to the Assad regime care little for the damaging impact it may have. Indeed, just as World War One was a major factor in sparking World War Two, intervening in Syria could make the country even worse. With no way of knowing what to expect in such a complex, unstable environment, it seems impenetrable to determine the results of missile strikes, and as such they are not worth the risk.

Hence, the old responses to suffering are redundant – they have been for a long time. Without knowing what further evils military action can bring, combined with the fact it never changes the world significantly enough to solve the problem of evil faced by billions, would suggest it is time to take a new approach. The people of the world still believe that might can make right, but history is against that theory. A new paradigm of international standards is needed. But what can be offered? What will work?

Instead of threatening those who do wrong, I suggest that we offer to help the Syrian nation as an incentive for peace. Britain, a very wealthy country, even if it is economically struggling, has an immense resource of potential labour, expertise and technology they could offer to invest in Syrian infrastructure. By proposing to help build hospitals, schools, roads, whilst training up Syrian people to run these institutions in exchange for peaceful negotiations, we not only are more likely to stop a war, but develop and help the suffering people caught in the middle of this war. Sacrificing some of our own creativity, ingenuity and reserves to stop a blood thirsty war seems entirely justified. How can we sit by with our Ipads and PS4’s when extra taxation could provide funds for a project which helps saves lives prematurely being taken? It is in service to others we offer a real incentive for Assad and his enemies to stop needlessly killing each other, and it might actually progress with some of the problems violence does not.

One may object that this approach leaves itself to being abused: dictators may intentionally make war just to benefit from our cooperation, in the hope that they can improve their countries well-being. There are many people in the world who falsely take what is not theirs, and governments are no less likely to do that than anybody else. Yet why should this stop us from loving and helping others? If we are serious about tackling world suffering, then the abuses of the few should not render the help to the needy unwanted. It is in sacrifice to others we truly show our love for them, and this is when we are most alive. It mends broken relationships, closes wounds and resolves conflicts. We can only do so much, but as a nation, Britain has an immense capacity to lead the world in a radical new approach to evil: the sacrifice of its own resources and skills to help get closer to addressing the real problems people face.

As a Christian, I find this to be the example Jesus presented to the world as how He conquered suffering. In Jesus, God was present as a man, and through His torture and death on the cross, He fulfilled Israel’s vocation to save the world through her suffering, came good on His promises to save His people and renew them in person and announced His kingship over all the nations. Whilst the Romans and Jews mocked Him, dressing Him up in a purple robe, putting a crown of thorns on His head and calling Him ‘King of the Jews’, the irony is that the crucifixion was the enthronement of Christ as ruler and monarch of the cosmos. He could have smashed His foes with raw power, violently overthrowing the regimes of the world. However, then He would have just been another tyrant, inflicting suffering on more people, not conquering death but supporting it. Rather, He sacrificed Himself, so that His subjects, the people of the world, may be freed from the cycle of suffering, which He had placed the full stop on. Whilst it is God alone who can stop suffering, through our sacrifices and love of others, Jesus uses us to complete His inaugurated kingdom. The murder of God was His enthronement and victory, with His resurrection the vindication of His message and His royalty. As we are servants of the Lord, we too should sacrifice ourselves to stop suffering, as individuals and nations of God’s Kingdom. It is this radical approach, this paradigm shift, which I propose to make the greatest impact on the suffering of the Syrian people.

Drawing the threads of the essay together, I have argued current traditions of resolving evil in the world are ineffectual and that offer to sacrifice our resources and talent to improve the lives of Syrian people in exchange for peace is an example of the model nations should take to international crises. Whilst war has been the method for fixing problems for almost all of history, it has done little to nothing to stop the continued suffering of billions of people. This is because it only enhances and entrenches the already malignant forces at work. Rather, by placing our economy, products and skills as means to other countries ends, we not only truly show our love of humanity (as sacrifice is the visible demonstration of love) but we also provide an incentive to resolve conflicts and progress as united peoples together. The ultimate sacrifice of God on the cross is the paradigm we should follow: as Christ’s suffering brought about God’s Kingdom, our suffering for others is also used by Him to further His kingdom and renew creation. This very different response, or something like it, is what is needed to shake up the current norms of international action. Otherwise, Cameron, Obama and Hollande will continue to uphold the dark evils of this world.

Scottish Independence: Reframing the Debate

With the referendum on whether Scotland should become independent just over a year away, the debate and discussion around this important event has intensified. As a Scot born in Paisley, brought up in England and studying at the University of Edinburgh, this issue fascinates me intensely. However, thus far the proposition and opposition to the motion have both left much to be desired, defending their views with weak arguments. In this article, I will argue that the issue of Scottish independence should be a matter of ideological concerns about one’s own identity, not a pragmatic choice. Following on from this, I shall contend that the culture and values the United Kingdom possesses is one of the richest, and consequently is not worth sacrificing unless Scottish independence will produce a more desirable national narrative.

The Yes vote campaign (led by Alex Salmond) and the No campaign (represented by Alistair Darling) has so far wrangled over many contentious issues. Whether it is the economy, trident, membership of the EU and NATO, immigration, tuition fees or guests on Question Time, the two groups have engaged in a brutal war of words. Whilst the majority of the polls suggest Scotland will not go independent, the clashes up to this point have suggested the No campaign is poorly organised, enabling the Yes vote to aggressively propose their position, making slight increases. Considering a week is a long time in politics, the landscape of public views will look very different in a year, so both sides will need to fight hard to ensure victory in this historic vote.

Let us summarise the two factions’ overall views. On the one hand, the Yes campaign argues they can bring prosperity to Scotland. By leaving the economically downtrodden Coalition governed UK, they can have lower tax rates, embrace European trade and improve public services, whilst still retaining the pound and the North Sea Oil. Furthermore, they will dispense of sin’s the British government has imposed upon the Scottish people, such as Trident. Scotland will become in all but name a utopia.

On the other hand, the No campaign are running a very pessimistic polemic against independence. If Scotland becomes independent, they face an uncertain future. As the endless cycle of boom and bust has demonstrated, inability to have secure prospects often leads to doom. By leaving the economically powerful and stable UK, Scotland risks losing crucial capital and investment, losing its membership of the EU and NATO, whilst losing monetary control and being forced to share out North Sea Oil and British debts. Moreover, as a tiny nation, Scotland will lose whatever influence it had in global affairs. Scotland will be transformed into a dump.

Both of these positions seek to argue that Scotland should choose independence or remain within the union for pragmatic reasons. They claim what they advocate provides more benefits to the people of Scotland in contrast to their counterparts. Scotland will be a better place to live if you vote Yes/No according to the respective campaigns. You should vote depending on what you find more convincing: the optimistic outlook of SNP and her allies, or the pessimism of the Better Together campaign. The consequences of independence should drive your decision in the 2014 referendum, and nothing more.

This approach to such a monumental choice is faced with an insurmountable problem. As with all consequentialist theories of action (such as Mill’s Utilitarianism), they contend that an action is right if and only if it has the best consequences. However, how can one calculate which consequences are the best? With the future filled with so many contingencies, it is near impossible to evaluate the results of any one action. It is said that the flap of a butterfly’s wing can cause a hurricane. This implies that a small, insignificant event can shape the whole world’s history. Hence, predicting in an accurate way the implication of small scale actions is fraught with error. If such an approach to the actions of individuals is difficult, applying such a philosophy to the actions of a nation is absurd.

In this climate of economic and political chaos, where confidence and emotion mould the decisions made in government halls, how can one hope to predict the immediate results of independence, never mind far off into the future. Nations rise and fall. Britain has been a land which has been invaded by the Romans, the Saxons, the Vikings and the Normans. Who would have thought in 1066 that the people of this country, invaded and ransacked incessantly by warring tribes, would become the centre of the largest and wealthiest empire the world has ever known. Or take France. Following the revolution, the French empire fell into disarray, facing threats from abroad, civil strife at home and a languishing economy. It was only a matter of years before Bonaparte Napoleon, the first Emperor of France, restored the country to its former glory, becoming the conquerors of Europe. History is a fickle thing, and deciding to become independent or not on the basis of temporal pleasures, such as economic prosperity, is fraught with peril. As the consequences of becoming independent will be constantly changing, there is no certainty that any state of living will remain long, and as such judging whether Scotland should choose independence using a consequentialist apparatus is futile.

Of course, we all need to make decisions made on consequentialist grounds sometimes. In everyday life, we have to make choices, and some of those are best made when judging various short term consequences. Furthermore, much national and international legislation is justified on consequentialist grounds, as there is clear information on what may or may not happen in the immediate futre. Indeed, if it was evident that Scottish Independence would render Scotland a poverty stricken nation, then it would be abundantly clear that we should all vote no. However, as there is much confusion over what will happen, and by the nature of the case that is unlikely to change.

Heraclitus recognised that the world of particulars (that is, all those objects available to the senses) is in a ‘state of constant flux.’ Everything we observe is in a process of change, not only from our own perspectives but objectively too. Famously, Plato argued that grounding knowledge, and hence morality, in the world of particulars is flawed, as constant change prevents assurance of finding assurance or justification. The place to find ethical guidance is the Forms/universals/abstract objects. For the Platonist, these are immaterial, timeless, perfect objects, which are never changing. They are archetypal concepts which all particulars are mere shadows of. Every predicate, such as virtue, justice, the Good, has a Form, and being unchanging, one could be certain of one’s convictions if they are grounded in the Forms. Whilst one need not subscribe to such metaphysics to reframe the Scottish Independence debate, the fact that ideals are unthawed by temporal contingencies indicates one should judge the issue of separation on ideological grounds, as opposed to pragmatic factors.

The issue of independence is a question about how one identifies oneself. No one choose their original national identity – we are born in a particular geographical location and are forced to become a citizen of that country. However, when one reaches a certain age, an individual has the choice to request citizenship of another country. Sometimes this is done on pragmatic grounds: to work in that location, to get closer to family, to try something new etc. However, for those seeking permanence abroad, they do so because they subscribe to the culture of that place. They may not agree with everything in that country, but they essentially identify themselves with the ideals and values of that nation. That was why so many immigrants moved to the USA, for the values of that country upheld the idea that if you work hard enough you will succeed (the reality being somewhat different), which they wanted to be a part of. When setting up residence in a new culture, the individual identifies their views somewhat with the positions held by the people, engrossing themselves in the way of life there. This entails that changing your citizenship is an ideological choice, for your own identity is intertwined with the cultural milieu and interpersonal relationships that community has.

The referendum is also a choice of culture. It a vote to decide what the Scottish people want: the current British culture, which they have contributed to for over 300 years, or their own, rooted in the tales of Bruce and Wallace, looking towards a new dawn. Last time, the Scots and English were robbed of a vote. After the disastrous Darien Scheme left Scotland bankrupt, the Scottish government united with England to ensure economic stability and to prevent Scotland choosing a different monarch to England. Daniel Defoe, the author of Robinson Crusoe, was hired as an English spy to report on how the Scottish people had been reacted to the decision. ‘A Scots rabble is the worst of its kind,’ he reported, ‘for every Scot in favour there is ninety-nine against’. As a purely pragmatic decision, the Union was a move of remarkable ingenuity. Yet without consultation of any kind, the Scottish people had been ‘bought and sold for English gold’ eliciting the classic line ‘such a parcel of rogues in the nation’ (Rabbie Burns). They felt their culture had been traded in for capital. This truly was a betrayal of the narrative which made up Scotland, and forced English people to be associated with those up north.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Js7x3u2GHYs - Such a Parcel of Rogues

This time things are different. Scottish people have a choice to remain as part of the union or to leave it. Pragmatic issues need not trouble their minds, for they now have the opportunity to affirm their national identity for the first time. So, which should they choose?

I believe that one should vote ‘No’ to Scotland becoming independent of the UK, because Britain has one of the greatest cultures in the world. Ever since the act of union, Great Britain has developed into a global power, bring benefits to the world over. Whilst it has done many bad things in its history, it also has helped millions of people around the world. At the heart of the empire, position in European and international politics, industrial revolution and the other notable aspects of British history is that there has been an ethic of unity which admits plurality. Whereas the Napoleonic Empire crumbled partly by forcing the conquered to assimilate to a French paradigm, the British government was able to run a large part of the world by cooperating and developing the infrastructure of those different to themselves. Allowing others to be different and participate within the trade, military and other components of an Imperial force enabled the small nation of Britain to garner allies and unite far off people’s to their cause. This structure of a united peoples working together, whilst still upholding the plurality of the individuals cultural norms is still present today, with the UK being a diverse and culturally diverse place. With the right to freedom of speech, freedom of action and the accountability of those in charge, the UK is a country which upholds the dignity of each person’s blik (worldview/horizon). This all spawned from the union of England and Scotland, which was a unification of two culturally opposed peoples for a common good. This is a value system I want to subscribe to, and I cannot conceive of a situation where an independent Scotland can surpass the cultural model of plurality within unity. Therefore, on ideological ground, I conclude Scotland should not go independent.

Before I summarise the blog, a note of caution. An ideological debate can be used by sophists and politicians to assert unfounded things in the name of their cause. SNP members have argued Scotland has always been more egalitarian than England, which has little historical truth, and the UK has contended that if Scotland went independent it would have to have nuclear weapons to be apart of NATO, which is nonsense. It must be a principle of any such dialogue that neither culture can be fully realised, as they are a set of ideals. However, each party should be honest about what is their cultural narrative, without deferring to trickery to win the day.

Drawing the threads of the article together, I have argued that the debate over Scottish Independence has been framed in a consequentialist manner, which misses the point of nationality. Rather, the discussion should be on whether one wants to identify themselves with the cultural values of Great Britain or an independent Scotland. It appears to me that the values of unity within plurality, which is at the foundation of democratic nation states, is at the heart of British culture, and that is something I urge all voters to subscribe to. Therefore, the debate needs to be reframed, and in light of this I hope Scots will see why they should vote ‘No’ next year.

Syria and the Parable of the Good Samaritan

I believe that the UK government should not arm the rebels in Syria, because violent revolution changes too little, upholding the status quo of the rule by the mighty. Arming the opposition only supports the idea that the sword can solve our immediate sufferings, which is an illusion. How this topic shall be approached is in relation to the Parable of the Good Samaritan, using this story to evaluate the arguments for and against intervening in the conflict against Assad. What shall be presented is a balanced assessment of the various ideas about Britain’s role in Syria.

The Parable of the Good Samaritan was a teaching of Jesus’ in relation to who the golden rule applies too.

Luke 10:25-37

New International Version (NIV)

25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

26 “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

27 He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’[a]; and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’[b]”

28 “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbour?”

30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii[c] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

Footnotes:

Luke 10:27 Deut. 6:5

Luke 10:27 Lev. 19:18

Luke 10:35 A denarius was the usual daily wage of a day labourer (see Matt. 20:2).

 

The Jews and the Samaritans were ethnic groups which loathed each other – there was great racial hatred between these peoples. This is what makes the actions of the Samaritan so powerful, as he alone helped his ‘enemy’, relieving his suffering at the expense of his time and money. It is because we have moral duties over space and time that we agree with Jesus that the Samaritan is the man’s neighbour – he is the one who aided a stranger in need. We are called to follow suit in our decision making.

Syria

Following the tidal wave which was the ‘Arab Spring’, many individuals in Syria rose up in revolt against the regime of President Assad. The causes and facets of this conflict are multiple and complex, with ethnic, political and religious divisions playing significant roles. What is certain is the catastrophe it has been in relation to human life. The Iraq War was a bloody melee, with the Iraq Body Count project putting the 2003-2005 death toll at 67,365 civilians. The 2011-2013 Syrian civil war has a death toll according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights of roughly 94,000, and possibly as high as 120,000. The loss of human life is horrific, with human rights violations by both sides of the war. Furthermore, it has recently been reported there is evidence chemical weapons have been used in Syria. The people of that nation are experiencing immediate suffering, and there cries echo in the news broadcasts around the world.

After the interventions by British forces in Iraq and Afghanistan, public opinion is resoundingly against military activity in Syria. There are a few reasons often cited for this, which shall be examined as follows.

We should spend British money on British People

The economy is in a mess. Ever since 2008, the UK has been flailing in a mire of debt, gigantic deficits and a populace who want to keep all the perks secured by borrowed money. Many individuals struggle to find jobs, and those who have them live in fear of being laid off or their firm closing. Poverty is increasing, living standards are going down, life is getting harder for thousands of people. The government’s priority should be restoring economic stability and prosperity to the nation, a thing we would all welcome with open arms.

So when we hear that the coalition is considering investing in the expensive endeavour of arming foreign rebels, many people object. Whilst they struggle to make ends meet, William Hague wants to spend money which could help people in this country on those who pay no tax in this nation. Clearly, this hurts the living of many Britain’s.

However, this argument fails in light of the actions of the Good Samaritan. A member of the community of Samaria, he was from a different society to the Jewish man. Not only were they from different nations, they came from natural enemies, like South and North Korea. Yet he recognised that the minimisation of suffering far outweighs any economic benefit from not acting. He was willing to use his bandages, oil and wine on the man, all costing money. Furthermore, he paid two days wages to the innkeeper, and offered to pay for any further expenses. Clearly, the Samaritan understood that helping others is far more important than keeping resources for oneself. When others are in need, one should offer whatever they can, for wealth can never satisfy our deepest desires, whereas love for another, stranger or not, gets to the heart of what fulfils us. In the same vein, not intervening in Syria because it will cost money suggests one prefers wealth over the wellbeing of others, which is abhorrent. Life is precious, and building relationships with others are far superior to any monetary gain, so we this is a bad reason not to engage in military action.

The Middle East is not ours to Interfere with

It is no secret that different societies have very different values. For example, whereas the Western World lives in an era founded upon enlightenment principles, much of the Middle East is structured around Islam. In light of British colonialism, most contemporaries believe the imposition of one’s own values upon another is wrong, and that it is up to the Syrians and the local region to solve this mess. The West has no authority to police the world, as its values are no more right than those of other regions. The shadow of Ayer’s emotivism is used as justification against being involved in other nation’s affairs.

Yet this decision to do nothing in the face of suffering is also reprimanded in the parable of the Good Samaritan. The priest and the Levite both see the injured man on the road, a person they have the skill and wealth to help. However, due to their own reputations and pride, ignore the man, leaving him to go through much pain. Their decision not to act perpetuated the evil that man endured, actively condoning the mugging inflicted on this poor individual. The choice not to intervene in Syria legitimises the violence taking place, just as much as killing innocents would. Just because various communities have different values, it does not follow that the people of Britain do not have a responsibility to help those in need, regardless of their country of origin. Rather, this objection to intervention merely supports the status quo of mindless bloodshed to prevent action offending anybody, just as touching the injured man would have meant hours of purification rights for the Levite. The minimisation of suffering far outweighs one’s own reputation in any respect, and as such this criticism of intervening in Syria is weak.

We do not know who the rebels are

This is the most popular and perhaps pertinent objection to arming the rebels. After 9/11, President Bush declared a ‘war on terror’. Ever since, the USA has been supported by the UK in undermining and attacking those extremist groups which seek to harm the West through violence. In particular, the group Al Qaeda are the prime organisation NATO seeks to destroy, which has claimed the lives of thousands of innocents around the world. Many of these individuals have joined the Syrian opposition, forming Islamist militias in order to throw out Assad and make Syria a radical Muslim country. By arming the rebels, the UK government may inadvertently provide military equipment to those who would seek to harm our nation, which is unacceptable. History has shown this to be bad strategy: when the USSR invaded Afghanistan, NATO armed the Taliban, in the hope they could repel the communist invasion. When the USA and UK later landed in the country to overthrow the Taliban, the very same weapons they had supplied were used against them. Thus, arming radical groups with arms may result in a worse government than Assad’s, which actively seek to destroy the UK and her allies.

This objection also falls down. It relies on the position that if someone may harm you, you should not help them in any circumstance. However, this treats individuals as merely a means, not as ends. It was Kant who recognised this is unacceptable. Every human being as an intrinsic dignity, forged by natural rights to life, liberty and estate (Locke). Actions are right if and only if they treat others as an end in themselves, and are for their benefit, helping them flourish. Without this conception of humanity, the killing, torture and suffering of strangers is legitimised.

Furthermore, the Good Samaritan did not take this approach. He could have justified not helping the injured Jew by citing the fact that Israel was an enemy of Samaria, and this man may one day take up arms against the Samaritans. Allowing this man to die would have prevented him from attacking the Samaritan’s homeland, bringing suffering to his nation. Despite this, the Samaritan understood that no matter whom an individual is or what they have done, they have an intrinsic dignity, whether on account of being made in the image of God, having natural rights or having the propensity to be rational, which means they deserve our kindness and love. If we can help the Syrian people by arming Jihadists and radicals that should be our first priority, not avoiding conflict at the expense of others.

Pressure and Peace

The primary argument for arming the rebels is that this will put pressure upon Assad’s regime, which will make it more likely that peace talks will ensue. As previously stated, the violence in Syria is astronomical, with the death toll nearing 100’000. Providing Assad believes he can still retain power, the violence will ensue. Thus, if one provides military equipment to the opposition, Assad may reconsider his options, faced with a bigger threat. By risking escalation, the killing may in fact be stopped. This is the case William Hague and his followers are making.

The problem with this approach is that it changes too little. If Mr Hague arms the rebels, at best a peace deal will be made by the powerful and violent, and at worse one side will destroy the other by merciless killing. By using the tools of the tyrant, one upholds rule by the self-righteous, and only creates more vengeance and anger. Acquiring power by the means Assad uses to keep control, the opposition would become nothing more than tyrants, continuing the cycle of suffering at the expense of millions. Zealotry merely perpetuates the problem of suffering, it cannot solve it. It will not prevent wars or strife in the future, as it maintains the idea that oppression and power can remove immediate suffering, which is manifestly false. As such, arming the rebels will not provide the radical revolution needed to stop the turmoil in Syria.

An Alternative

Recently, I watched the film ‘Gladiator’, a thrilling blockbluster telling a magnificent story. At one point, the slave owner Proximo tells the gladiators, which include Maximus, that we cannot decide what kind of death we have. However, we can decide how we meet it, as either good or bad people. This thought occurred to me regarding Syria. The argument for intervening militarily is that it could relieve the suffering of thousands of people. However, the cost of that is much further bloodshed of innocent individuals. The fact of life we all try and run from is that one day we must die, no matter rich or poor, black or white, Christian or atheist. No matter what happens, bad things will happen to good people, whether Assad, the rebels or anyone else govern Syria. To think human volition alone can remove the sufferings of Syria and the world is false, the ‘Promethian Illusion’ to which I allude to in my last article. It is pride in our own pitiful achievements, which motivates intervention to stop suffering, and usually it only makes it worse. Death will haunt these people, even if USA drones are on their side.

Christianity has a long history of supporting non-violence. Jesus taught to ‘love your enemy’ and to ‘turn the other cheek’ in the face of oppression. In 1 Peter, the author states we should ‘repay evil with a blessing’. Marx describes this as ‘despicable rubbish’, yet the willingness to forgive and embrace the persecutor is at the heart of Jesus’ ‘Original Revolution’ (Yoder). When violence is met with love, the cycle of suffering comes to an end, with injustice countered with a much more powerful warmth and affection which can change human hearts. This approach can help build relationships anew, start diplomatic negotiations and mend schisms amongst warring peoples. Yet it is only if one refuses to ‘define themselves by their enemies who can bless them’ (Volf). The Christian identity is that of being ‘reborn into a living hope’, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. His love forms the centre of a Christian life, and one’s self-understanding should start from Him. This is a positive identity, independent of other people. By contrast, the Syrian rebel defines herself as an opposition to the current world order, for their identity is moulded around a mission to displace those currently in power to change social structures. Thus, they will always be in conflict with Assad and his followers, pushing them away at every turn. As such, only violence can ensue, once more upholding the existing values of oppression. It is only in forgiveness can this conflict be stopped.

This sentiment has been at the heart of the most successful revolutions. Gandhi, Martin Luther King and Mandela all lead peaceful demonstrations against violent oppression. They did not mobilise the will of a nation by blowing up buses, shooting enemies and supplying their allies with weapons. No, they took to the streets, calling for all people to rise up in non-violent condemnation of the behaviour of the ruling faction. In each case, they achieved their aims, and ever since the countries they have lived in have in some way benefited from their actions. Indeed, the Egyptian rebels largely followed this approach, and as a result a more peaceful transition took place. Contrast that with Syria, a nation still in the iron grip of war. It is only through public witness to a different way of doing things can a good peace be achieved in this nation.

Conclusion

In summary, I have analysed the various arguments for and against arming the rebels in Syria and concluded it would be a wrong decision. Using the Parable of the Good Samaritan, I have critiqued the main arguments for and against military intervention in Syria, and then offered a theological response to the issue, claiming only peaceful protest and forgiveness can end this struggle. Thus, Assad and the rebels should be encouraged to put down their weapons, not be given more, and ask them to sit round a table. This will alleviate the suffering in Syria, not more violence and zealotry. Therefore, the UK government should not arm the rebels. 

Was Christ a Marxist?

Karl Marx changed the landscape of human thought forever when he published his radical political philosophy, otherwise known as ‘communism’. Ever since numerous activists, thinkers and rulers have pledged allegiance to the Marxist tradition, attempting to implement the revolution required to liberate the poor. An even more influential man is Jesus of Nazareth, the central figure of the Christian religion, with estimates projecting almost two billion people today following the teachings of this faith. In the last century, some people have suggested that Christ was a Marxist before Marx, his teachings merely reflecting the truth of communism and that the heavenly kingdom he speaks of is the same as the ideal community Marx described. In this article, I will argue that Christ was not a Marxist, nor is Marxism a palatable philosophy. I shall do this by first pointing out a number of the flaws of Marxism, which Christian ethics does not have. Then, an analysis of what would constitute the ‘heavenly kingdom’ shall ensue, which will rebut the notion that God’s kingdom is Marxist in nature. In short, I agree with Hampson that 'communism has neither as good means nor as good an end as the Christian worldview.'

As this article is already lengthy, I shall not myself offer expositions of Marxism or what Christian ethics constitutes. Rather, if you are not clear on what these terms are taken to mean, you can click on the links for broad guides to these doctrines:

http://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/marx/

http://www.request.org.uk/issues/topics/ethics/ethics01.htm

The first challenge Marxism faces is that if propounds the ‘Promethean Illusion’ (Niebuhr). Christian Realists argue that human beings are insecure, because we are ‘dependent and finite’, relying on God as the source of our continued existence. The ‘noble faith’ recognises are immediate predicament and places all hope and trust in Christ, who has shown his unconditional, unique love for us as the ‘suffering God’, dying on a cross in Judea for the rebel creation (Moltmann). However, out of ‘pride’, humanity often tried to turn its ‘weaknesses into strengths’, attempting to gain security (Niebuhr). Such behaviour leads to power and injustice, oppressing others to secure one’s own safety. It is in ‘trying to transcend our creaturliness’ we not only ‘offend God’ but creation’s harmony and balance. All our attempts are futile in the face of suffering and death, for no act of humanity can eradicate the finite and limited nature we possess. This is the mark of false prophecy: offering security to humans as long as they do such and such. All utopianism, which is trademark of enlightenment thinking, falls into the snare of imagining human volition can reorder the cosmos around us. It is only in recognising we will face immediate perils in that uphold the majesty of the divine.

Communism upholds false prophecy because it suggests alienation and suffering can be significantly minimised if we instigate revolution, a collective human action. Through the will of the many, humanity can reconfigure social structures to rid humanity of the ailments of capitalism. However, the projected Marxist state can solve none of our deepest yearnings. It offers no answers to the intrinsic dependence and vulnerability as part of a cosmic existence. It cannot provide any solution to gaping jaws of death. Worst of all, it actively purports that human action alone can save humanity. Communism presents the illusion that if social relations are corrected, then immediate security will ensue. This pride in human ability is itself the source of moral evil, and not only upholds falsity but encourages dangerous actions of self-righteousness. Without belief in God, hope in humanity’s future is only procured by thinking that humans can change the cosmic order, which is absurd. Perhaps it is out of wish fulfilment that Marxism holds to a utopian future (Feurbach).

By contrast, Christianity openly accepts that suffering and hardship will ensue, no matter the course of human action taken. Indeed, ‘A Christian is someone who shares the sufferings of God in the world.’ (Bonhoeffer) as is alluded to multiple times in Scripture. 1 Peter 4:12–13: ‘Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.’ Clearly, the Christian worldview does not propound a vision of reality where faith removes suffering or evil. Rather, it is the hope and trust in the love of God and the promise of immortality which sustains the faith of the disciple in immediate pain. It is in the realisation of our powerlessness that we begin to undercut the source of moral evil, which Marxism seeks to uphold.

A second problem is that the Marxist holds that one can make a desirable society without the people within that social setup being moral. Communists believe that if private property is abolished, the means of production returned to the proletariat, that if society is structured as a commune, then alienation and other ailments will dissipate. However, this seems to presuppose that living in such a system will configure just people. Yet this seems thesis commits the same fallacious move that many other political philosophies do, that a community can be just without the people being just. If individuals within a system are not good and seek only their self-interest, then it does not matter what their relations are to other people: they will still exploit and damage other people’s livelihoods. If individuals are not virtuous, then it does not matter how they are socially arranged. Moral evil will continue to ensue, taking different forms. Rather, focus should be on the ethical regeneration of individuals, building moral character through loving relationships. Changing social structures has been done before and achieved nothing, for without the people in the system being modified, the system will always be unjust.

The implication of this is that all social constructs, whether it is communist, capatilist, theocracy, feudalist, socialist and even potentially fascist social structures can all be just provided the people within them are just. For example, take Bournville in Birmingham. This area was owned by the Cadbury family, who were the innovators behind the famous Cadbury’s Chocolate. Being Quakers (a Christian denomination), the Cadbury’s believed it was their responsibility to look after the wellbeing of their employees. Thus, they provided homes, health, education and leisure for their labourers, creating a vibrant and happy community. It was this act of kindness, in a capitalist system, which helped make the people of the area just, for the owners used their time and money to improve the welfare of their society. Thus, Bournville was known for its gracious community spirit, always willing to lend a hand in times of need. So clearly, there can be a just community within a framework which is not Marxist, because it is the people, not the system, which determine the goodness of a society.

Jesus recognised that it is people, not social systems, which matter in political and ethical discourse. Thus, when he founded his new community (the Church) it was a ‘distinct community with a deviant set of values’ (Yoder). These values consisted in: 1) it was ‘voluntary’ – one only becomes a Christian if one wants to be a Christian as no one can force you to trust in Jesus; 2) it was of ‘generic composition’ – it was not just the poor, or the rich, or one race or another. It was a society which allowed all groups, the margianlised and the popular, regardless of those things one is born with. 3) It had a ‘new set of values’ – the people in this group put love, faith and hope at the centre of their worldview, using it to direct their actions in every way. It was the commands of Christ to love God with all your ‘heart, mind and soul’ and to love your neighbour as yourself which drove their ethical decision making, reforming their predispositions and enabled Christians to gain a reputation of peaceful and moral folk. Christian society was grounded in sanctification of the individual, a recognition that God’s kingdom could only be on earth when everyone loves one another. Thus, Christianity is once more superior to Marxism, as it recognises that it is people, not social relations, which need to be transformed to make a society just.

Thirdly, Marxism supports the use of violence and conflict to achieve its ends, which is entirely unjustified. Communists are concerned with writing ‘metanarratives’, reshaping the course of history around their political goals (Hauerwas). They want to change the traditions and attitudes of a society, making deep structural alterations which mould a communities past in a new light. They want to redefine and interpret the past in light of a communist society. This is not uncommon for groups who aspire to political revolution: the French Revolutionaries created a new calendar, a new way dividing up time and a new religion. In his ‘Clean Slate Thesis’, Toumlin conjectures such an approach can only lead to ‘rivers of blood’. To overthrow the present narrative, one must remove those who are identified with the current system. This will lead to violence and death, the killing of individuals in order to tinker with history. However, that which endangers life should be ‘oppressed’ (Aquinas), for it is the most apparent truth in nature that life is precious and should not be threatened at any cost. The Marxist violates the natural right to life in order to implement a communist society, which is morally wrong and commits the same crime the bourgeoisie also uphold. The problem is, such ‘zealotry… changes too little’ (Yoder), for the sword still rules and the ‘self-righteousness of the mighty is upheld’. Removing one group by force simply leads to vengeance and injustice, for revolutionaries have used a means of acquiring power which was the same means the previous rulers used, and thus, all they have done is continue the cycle of suffering.

On the other hand, Christianity has a long history of supporting non-violence. Jesus taught to ‘love your enemy’ and to ‘turn the other cheek’ in the face of oppression. In 1 Peter, the author states we should ‘repay evil with a blessing’. Marx describes this as ‘despicable rubbish’, yet the willingness to forgive and embrace the persecutor is at the heart of Jesus’ ‘Original Revolution’ (Yoder). When violence is met with love, the cycle of suffering comes to an end, with injustice countered with a much more powerful warmth and affection which can change human hearts. This approach can help build relationships anew, start diplomatic negotiations and mend schisms amongst warring peoples. Yet it is only if one refuses to ‘define themselves by their enemies who can bless them’ (Volf). The Christian identity is that of being ‘reborn into a living hope’, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. His love forms the centre of a Christian life, and one’s self-understanding should start from Him. This is a positive identity, independent of other people. By contrast, the Marxist defines herself as an opposition to the current world order, for their identity is moulded around a mission to displace those currently in power to change social structures. Thus, they will always be in conflict with capitalists and fascists, pushing them away at every turn. As such, only violence can ensue, once more upholding the existing values of oppression. Therefore, the Marxist identity not only encourages violence but fails to solve the oppression of others by using conflict as a means of revolution, in stark contrast to Jesus’ teachings.

An example of this regards the recent attacks on Muslims in light of last week’s terrorist attack. To counter the EDL, a number of groups, such as UAF, had organised counter demonstrations to voice their opposition. However, these protests actually invigorate groups like the EDL, who thrive on violence and conflict. Forming large groups to challenge them in an aggressive way is exactly what they want, and does little to dissuade those who are fascist from being fascist. By contrast, the actions of a Muslim community in York were far more successful without resorting to violence. Rather than defend their Mosque from the oncoming attackers, they went out to the volatile crowd and offered them tea and biscuits. The EDL gladly accepted, spoke with the Muslims, and then went on their way peacefully, having received the kindness of a group they had sought to attack. This put a stop to the violence in that area, and was a powerful act. It is a testament to the teaching which Christ advocated, that non-violent public witness is a far greater alternative to violent upheaval, as Marxism supports.

So Marxism would seem to endorse a false sense of immediate security, uphold the doctrine states can be just without the people being in them being just and violent methods of usurpation, which Christianity rightly does not claim. As such, Jesus could not have been a Marxist. However, some Christians may argue that whilst Christ is not strictly a Marxist, the communist society is like God’s heavenly kingdom. Marx did not get everything right, but like other secular philosophers, he identified certain truths about reality. Just as he pictured the ideal community as being classless, without private property and arranged on a needs basis, so too the divine society can be thought of in such a way. Since thinkers like Plato and Aristotle, whilst not in entire agreement with Christian doctrine, the essence of what they taught has been thought of as drawing out truths, so too Marx may be seen in the same way. However, in the following passage, I shall argue that in fact the heavenly kingdom cannot be Marxist.

Communism purports that the ideal society is composed of entirely equal members. No one has more rights or property of power than anyone else. All people just take what they need from the commune and contribute the rest to allow others to take what they need. However, this incompatible with Christianity because it would mean the Triune God would be equal with humanity. As the ‘greatest conceivable being’ (Anselm) only God can be Lord, and as the creator of the world, all creation is His property. Thus, Christians believe all things are owned by God, and we are subjects to His rule. The divine community is one composed of individuals who recognise Christ’s Lordship, His superiority and right to use as He sees fit. This is directly opposed to Marxism, which has to have no Lordship or class within its social relations. Therefore, God’s heavenly kingdom cannot be Marxist, for Jesus would have to be equal with humans, which ontologically is absurd.

Furthermore, violence would be the natural result of a Marxist community. Often, thinkers have associated violent behaviour with power. However Arendt has persuasively argued that power comes from the collective will and does not need violence to achieve any of its goals, since voluntary compliance takes its place. This would be the Christian kingdom, where God’s sovereign power over those who conform to His rule. By contrast, violence arises from the absence of power. Marxism envisions a society with the ‘rule by no one’, and as such in the absence of legitimate authority individuals will impose their will on others. With no power base, people will be forced towards violent means to achieve their ends. Yet this is in direct contrast with the peaceful place we think of heaven as being. Thus, Christian society cannot be Marxist.

Drawing the threads of the article together, I have argued that Jesus was not a Marxist in any respect. Firstly, I argued that Christian teachings are superior to Marxist theory because Marxism promotes the ‘Promethian Illusion’, endorses the view that the state can be just without its inhabitants being just and allows for the violation of the right to life, all which Christ rejected. Furthermore, I claimed the heavenly kingdom is not communist, for God stands in a superior position to humans, and the Marxist community would result in violence. Therefore, I conclude Christian ethics is not only not the same as Marxism, but superior to Karl Marx’s philosophy.

Why I Was Wrong About Soul Survivor

In the past, I have been highly critical of Christian communities and organisations, such as Soul Survivor, for their method and approach to worship. In this article, I seek to argue that this thesis was wrong, for Christ’s presence can be mediated through any ‘mode of presentation’ (Frege). However, forming one’s faith on the basis of these practices can harm one’s passion for God and lead to a false sense of immediate security.

During the late 20^th century and early 21^st, many western churches have adopted a new way of worshiping God. This has primarily been a shift from rigid, organ based music to hymns played by rock bands, with a much more liberal style of praise. This style is rather popular amongst younger Christians, so it is no surprise that congregations which have this approach tend to draw in more youths. It provides a vitalising, alive, thrilling, dynamic and ultimately a spirit led praise of the divine ‘wholly other’ (Otto). Furthermore, it engages the heart, opens up the feelings hidden in the dark reaches of the soul and exposes them to ‘contact’ with Christ (Augustine). It provides an experience most people will never get anywhere else, which is part of the appeal of something like Soul Survivor.

I used to challenge such a way of worship as largely unjustified. Yet now I realise the folly of my ways. Christ is a person who is the author, sustainer and redeemer of creation, His resurrection vindication the ‘relational ordering of creation… to the Triune God’ (Northcott). The Father, Son and Spirit have complete control over all reality, uniquely the source of all life, processes and goodness. Thus, the Lord is able to reveal himself through any means He so chooses. Whether it be reason, emotion, nature, conscience, the Scriptures, experience, relationships, love and even suffering can be used by Him to mediate his configuring presence, transforming all with open hearts. I falsely thought God could only reveal himself to humanity is a confined way, or rather, we were only justified in believing in some forms of divine revelation. However, as all life is a miracle, all approaches are open to God, and those who receive His love are entirely justified in believing they have an awareness of it.

That is why Soul Survivor and all these other modern forms of worship are warranted. Just as there is a plurality in the unity of the divine nature, so too the modes of presentation He offers humanity are multiple and varied, whilst pertaining from the same source. They all do great work in presenting themselves as a mechanism for God to use to reach out to humanity, enabling the love of God to be known by many. It is quite right that individuals should follow their consciences and participate in these communities, such as Soul Survivor, which I myself am much more empathetic with. Their revolutionising presence is a bulwark in the mission to let every heart hear the chime of the gospel. As Christ instantiated a community which was of ‘generic composition’ (Yoder), it is only right that we recognise the plurality of legitimate modes of praxis one can worship the one God with.

Furthermore, these more modern churches ironically follow more in the reformed tradition than their counterparts. The primacy of emotion found in such churches can be traced to Calvinist ideology, with its emphasis upon the total depravity of humanity. Calvin had argued that reason was fallen, with our cognitive faculties no longer properly functioning (Plantinga), with reason’s greatest achievement being to identify ‘nature, custom and habit’ as the foundations for our beliefs (Pascal).  Milbank contends ‘that feeling… is what truly discloses to us the real’, which coincides with a theology of ‘Trinitarian grounding,’ emphasising a ‘primacy of Spirit’ like Hume’s ‘primacy of feeling’.   He claims the Spirit is often associated with ‘wisdom specifically of love’, which indicates that the God who is love (1 Jn 4:8) also guides our lives as Christians via moral sentiments.  This theology of feeling, where believers are brought into a relationship with God through the redemption of their emotions, is the theological basis of these contemporary churches. Using emotional music, charismatic prayers and the creation of an electric atmosphere, preachers like Mike Pilivachi utilise the power of one’s feelings to perceive the true nature of reality, apprehending the source of all being’ (Rahner). So this approach to worship finds vindication and endorsement in the protestant tradition, emphasising the power of emotion over ritual and reason.

Whilst this model of Christian worship is entirely warranted and legitimate in its own right, a number of issue arise if individuals ground their faith solely in this approach to God. If one only approaches the divine only through one means, then their picture of the Trinity will be box like, trapped in a human language which cannot encapsulate the majesty of Christ. It is in the exploration of different avenues which the Lord uses to reach us which enables us to develop a relationship with the godhead, learning new aspects and properties of the one we worship. We all like to think we know this, and actively open our hearts, minds and souls to a variety of modes for God to reach us. Yet I am concerned that none more so than in these modern churches, particularly those in the youth and early twenties, can become stuck in this ‘modern’ way of worshipping and relating to Jesus and the gospel. Thus, I will seek to demonstrate the dangers one risks when one does not diversify or deviate from this modern approach to faith.

The first problem applies to all types of Christian worship, which is that one’s experience of God is so narrow that only in certain conditions does one invigorate a passion or praise for the Lord. For many of the people I have met, only with the guitar led songs, with their four chord backing and endless repetitions of the same four lines can they become engaged in a search for Christ. The simple bible study is not really that interesting without the music preceding them. Prayers lack a character and personality they attain when fired up by the strums of the worship band. Without this ritual of singing pop like hymns, many people struggle to get involved in worshipping Jesus, requiring it to help them feel comfortable in His presence. The issue is that one may only identify the Trinity with Sunday evening, leaving their faith trapped in melodies. Jesus is not just king in Heaven, but on Earth also, of every aspect of time and space. His kingdom does not stop at the boundary of Matt Redman or Tim Hughes songs. He commands every aspect of our life, and to live virtuously is to love God in all we do (Augustine). Therefore, using only a modern approach to worship risks enveloping faith in a mode of revelation, rather than finding sanctuary in the one who is producing the revelations.

Secondly, this method can be accused of propounding the ‘Promethean Illusion’ (Niebuhr). Christian Realists argue that human beings are insecure, because we are ‘dependent and finite’, relying on God as the source of our continued existence. The ‘noble faith’ recognises are immediate predicament and places all hope and trust in Christ, who has shown his unconditional, unique love for us as the ‘suffering God’, dying on a cross in Judea for the rebel creation (Moltmann). However, out of ‘pride’, humanity often tried to turn its ‘weaknesses into strengths’, attempting to gain security (Niebuhr). Such behaviour leads to power and injustice, oppressing other to secure one’s own safety. It is in ‘trying to transcend our creaturliness’ we not only ‘offend God’ but creation’s harmony and balance. All our attempts are futile in the face of suffering and death, for no act of humanity can eradicate the finite and limited nature we possess. This is the mark of false prophecy: offering security to humans as long as they do such and such. All utopianism, which is trademark of enlightenment thinking, falls into the snare of imagining human volition can reorder the cosmos around us. It is only in recognising we will face immediate perils in that uphold the majesty of the divine.

The relevance of this to the modernisation of churches is that many of the individuals I have met in these institutions project their wish of immediate security onto these services and events, and as such suffer in the face of evil. They identify God with the joy, fun and ecstasy they experience in these communities, associating the vibrant feeling with Him. However, when life turns sour, when the well is poisoned, those emotions soon vanish, and so does their awareness of Jesus too. So bound up in the frantic energy of the worshippers, young Christians may associate their excitement with Christ, and through habit and memory only recognise His presence when these sentiments are incurred. This has disastrous consequences: in the face of darkness, the believer’s faith buckles with a conception of a God who only induces happiness and pleasure. This may sound like an over exaggeration, but I have seen good friends in pain turn away from the Lord because they only know Him as the author of fun. This is a false sense of security, created by events such as Soul Survivor if the attendee is not aware that Jesus is restoring the creation in ‘participation with humanity’ (N. T. Wright). Giving us the chance to put things right will involve permitting the endurance of immediate insecurity, and no human action can escape it. Whilst we will be delivered in the fullness of time, we must accept that if our King was brutally murdered, so too will we be challenged. As such, the risk approaching God through modern means alone constitutes is a faith based on selective emotions, which when faced by detriment, is washed away on a tide of sin.

Drawing the threads of the article together, I have argued that I was wrong to admonish the modern approach to worship as illegitimate, and any trouble I caused in the process of these criticisms I apologise for. The Lord may use any means He deems fit to reveal His wondrous love to humanity, and it is apparent that events like Soul Survivor do enable people to apprehend the presence of the divine. However, the dangers of only worshipping God through the modern approach are detrimental, perverting one’s passion for Christ and potentially promising a false sense of security from immediate suffering. Therefore, I conclude that like all paradigms of praxis, this approach has several strengths but a number of flaws too.

Celebrity Culture: Is it bad?

David Beckham. Russel Brand. Kim Kardashian. What do they all have in common? They are the famous people. For one reason or another, individuals rise to prominence in the public sphere, being hounded by the press and idolised/despised by the masses. They dominate headlines, jam our news bulletins with their lives and cause controversy whenever they can. We are surrounded by them. At the request of a friend, I will try to offer an opinion on whether the obsession the West have about celebrities is a good or bad thing.

Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, claimed in his work Lost Icons that all societies have symbols of their identity. That is often manifested in the trends, fads and people. As a community, we want to present an image of who we want to be to ourselves, and as such, we hold things and lifestyles we desire in high regard. We project our inclinations onto the world around us, shaping the very culture we live in through our tastes. This should not be surprising: the marketing industry is premised on the notion that people will respond and act upon adverts which invigorate and suggest a possible way of sating our appetites. The world revolves around the social affirmations of items which our sentiments take an affection too.

As such, communities like to display their archetypal lifestyles in people who exhibit it. Those who are rich, powerful, controversial, funny, outspoken, take life by the scruff of the neck and many more attributes become celebrities as they have something we admire and want to preserve by lifting it upon high. Take Justin Bieber. Love him or hate him, he has been highly successful, having made millions of dollars, released a few number one albums and having his own worshipers: the Beliebers. All this at the tender age of 19. Let's be honest for a moment: nearly everyone would trade places with this lad if they had the opportunity. He, and others in his mould, are paradigmatic of our own desires.

Is this ethically healthy? I think not. We seem to prize people who are egotistical, self-indulged, money hoarders, uncaring and many other vices in their possession. Note, not all celebs are like this. However, many are. And it reeks of hypocrisy. Everyone seems to hate the bankers, getting bonuses for failure  not paying enough tax for our liking. What of the likes of Jessie J, One Direction and Wayne Rooney? Yes they all give to charity, they sign the autographs etc. but do they do their part? I found myself getting angry whilst watching comic relief, because whilst honest, hardworking folk with little money donate an incredible amount to this fantastic cause, the celebrities who tell us to donate don't nearly put in as much as the less well off do, making a killing off their wage. Yet, we still idolise them.

Again, take a look at Jonathan Ross. He is a rude, over the top presenter, who has made horrific phone calls to the great lad Andrew Sacks. Yet he is still seen as a good enough candidate to have his own TV show, host parts of charity events and merit our attention. It doesn't seem clear why he is a celebrity at all, never mind someone we look up to.

Finally, and perhaps my favourite case, Eminem. His lyrics promote violence, sexism and misogyny  sexual abuse, rape, drugs, alcohol abuse, swearing, hatred and the rich lifestyle at the expense of others. This is an essential part of the rap culture. But like so many other teenage boys, I have found myself idolising his music, learning his rhymes and developing a way of viewing the world shaped by his words. This cannot be right.



Indeed, I don't think there is anything wrong with having celebrities. We need to reflect who we are as a culture, portray what we admire, and produce examples for our young people to look up too. What worries me is our current selection of famous icons. They embody a way of life which will lead to an individualism and wanton disregard for others that nobody wants. We need to take a look at ourselves to see who we subscribe to and hold up as an emblem.

A suggestion of such a person would be the charity workers in this country and around the world. Many people volunteer to help those marginalised and excluded, giving everything they can to aid those in need. Loving their neighbours, they make a gift of themselves to be used by others how they please, expecting no thanks, no rewards, just looking for a better world. In the past, folk like the philanthropist George Cadbury, Joseph Chamberlain and Florence Nightingale are all British heroes worthy of our admiration. But these are all in the past: there seems to be nobody in the current climate who gives of their own volition, who is known for their acts of kindness first and foremost. This to me, seems wrong.

In conclusion, I have argued that whilst having celebrities is not a bad thing, the people we have accepted as icons of our culture raise questions as to the moral nature of our community. Perhaps this is just a consequence of my worldview: following the Lord, I believe that love is the principle emotion which defines good from bad, and should order our actions due to a divine mandate. However, it is a pretty bleak world where love is secondary to other prerogatives. For without the connection with the other of an agent, what are we? I urge you to reflect upon what you value ethically, and see whether the celebs you approve of correspond to the virtues you endorse. It may change your whole outlook on life.