God’s Faithfulness, Election, and Israel (Romans 9:1–13)
To speak of “God’s purpose of election” (Rom 9:11) involves speaking of those who are not the elect—those whose fate should bring great sadness to our hearts. We should also remember that, as mysterious and incomprehensible as it is to us and our finite minds, God justly holds unbelievers accountable not on the basis of His promises and election but on the basis of their rejection of Him (cf. Rom 1:18–20; 2:8–9).
Romans 9–11 is a difficult and debated section of Scripture in terms of God’s role in salvation and ethnic Israel’s role in the redemptive plan of God. Over the next few weeks, I hope to crystallize my own thoughts about these chapters into a few posts, passage by passage, as we work through this section of Scripture as a church, making devotional comments along the way.
Reminding ourselves of the context, Paul has just focused on the glory that will certainly come to us who are in Christ Jesus (Rom 8:18–39). As for Israel, however, Paul’s prose turns to pain for his “kinsmen according to the flesh” (Romans 9:3). He has “great sorrow and unceasing anguish” for Israelites who do not believe even though God’s many blessings belong to them (Rom 9:1–5).
These first five verses set the tenor for Romans 9–11 and should guide our discussions about these matters as well. To speak of “God’s purpose of election” (Rom 9:11) involves speaking of those who are not the elect—those whose fate should bring great sadness to our hearts.
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Distort the Present, Rewrite the Past
Whether art museums or classical music organizations, those institutions have sacrificed their comparative advantages—connoisseurship, scholarly knowledge, and devotion to the highest expressions of culture—in favor of a partisan political program that distorts both present and past.
Like the Art Institute of Chicago, the Metropolitan Museum of Art has redefined itself as an antiracist “agent of change.” In July 2020, its director Max Hollein and CEO Daniel Weiss announced that the museum will henceforth aim to overcome the racism still perpetrated by our “government, policies, systems, and institutions.”
What such a political mandate means for an art museum may seem puzzling, but two exhibits currently running at the Met provide an answer. They suggest that the museum will now value racial consciousness-raising over scholarship and historical accuracy. Double standards will govern how the museum analyzes Western and Third World art: only the former will be subject to the demystification treatment, while the latter will be accorded infinite curatorial respect. The Met will lay bare European art’s alleged complicity in the West’s legacy of oppression, while Third World violence and inequality will be chastely kept off stage.
The first show, “In Praise of Painting: Dutch Masterpieces at The Met,” arranges the Met’s own seventeenth-century Dutch canvases in thematic categories, such as still life and landscape. (The content of those categories is sometimes hard to discern underneath such mannered academic rhetoric as “Contested Bodies.”) Highlights of the show include Franz Hals’s portrait of Paulus Verschuur, a bravura performance of spontaneous brushwork and psychological acuity that captures the Rotterdam merchant’s modern irony, and Johannes Vermeer’s A Maid Asleep, which anticipates Paul Cézanne in its treatment of decorative pattern and geometry.
The Dutch Baroque formed the cornerstone of the Met’s first holdings; subsequent bequests created one of the world’s great assemblages of Rembrandt, Hals, Vermeer, and their peers. The antiracist museum, however, understands that it is not just Western art that needs deconstructing; the collecting and donating of art does, too. Thus, the commentary accompanying “In Praise of Painting” wearily notes that “of course” there are “blind spots in the story these particular acquisitions tell. Colonialism, slavery, and war—major themes in seventeenth-century Dutch history—are scarcely visible here.” It is hard to know who is more at fault, in the Met’s view: the artists or the art lovers who collected their work. Few seventeenth-century Dutch paintings treat of “colonialism, slavery, and war,” and fewer still approach the technical mastery of the Dutch canon. “In Praise of Painting” contains a Brazilian landscape by Frans Post that shows members of an Indian tribe gathered in a clearing. The painting is included in the exhibit as a synecdoche for a Dutch colony in northern Brazil; its interest is purely ethnographic. What other paintings about “colonialism, slavery, and war” do the curators think the Met should have acquired? Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum recently mounted a self-flagellating show called “Slavery,” intending to atone for Holland’s former holdings in Indonesia, New Guinea, and elsewhere. Even the royally endowed Rijksmuseum assembled few canvases with colonialism subject matter; as a second-best solution, it was left to attribute luxury items in portraits and still lifes to slavery and racism.
“In Praise of Painting” adopts that strategy as well. “Still life paintings pictured the bounty provided by newly established Dutch trade routes and the Republic’s economic success, while omitting the human cost of colonial warfare and slavery,” the accompanying wall text points out. The curators do not reveal how a still life painter should portray the “human cost of colonial warfare and slavery.” As even the curators admit, a still life by definition focuses on “things without people.” The Dutch masters, who brought the nascent genre to peak gorgeousness, may have delighted in the dragon-fly translucence of grapes and the somber radiance of silver and cut glass; they may have taught us to see beauty in a kitchen’s bounty. Not good enough. They should have anticipated twenty-first-century concerns about racial justice and revised their subject matter accordingly.
The museum’s benefactors also receive a feminist whack. “Only one picture painted by an early modern Dutch woman has entered the collection over the course of nearly 150 years,” the curators scold. Which Jacob van Ruisdael or Gerard ter Borch would the curators forego for a painting chosen on identity grounds? There simply weren’t as many females as males painting in the seventeenth century. Today, there are; women have unfettered access to art schools and galleries. The Met’s founders bought its female-painted Dutch Baroque canvas—a towering arrangement of peonies, tulips, roses, and marigolds—in 1871. Sexism did not prevent that addition to the museum’s original holdings, but sexism, we are to believe, prevented follow-up purchases.
Having been instructed to see oppression behind portraiture and to hear silenced voices in tableaux of oysters and lemons, the chastened Met visitor may wend his way to “The African Origin of Civilization,” another show drawn from the Met’s own collections. He will find himself back in a world of prelapsarian innocence, where art, if not the collecting of it, is unencumbered by a debunking impulse and where the culture that gave rise to that art is accepted on its own terms, not measured against present values.
“The African Origin of Civilization” pairs artefacts from ancient Egypt with those from modern (from the thirteenth-century A.D. forward) Sub-Saharan Africa to demonstrate their alleged “shared origins,” as the Met puts it, and to “recenter” Africa as “the source of modern humanity and a fount of civilization.” A timeline runs around the walls noting significant moments in African history, such as the receipt of Grammy awards by pop stars from Benin and South Africa.
The show is based on the writings of Senegalese historian Cheikh Anta Diop (1923–1986). Diop held that ancient Egypt was black, that ancient Egypt and modern Sub-Saharan Africa are part of a unified black civilization, and that this black African civilization, not Greece or Rome, is the source of Western civilization. The exhibit opens with a covertly doctored quote from Diop: “The history of Africa will remain suspended in air and cannot be written correctly until African historians connect it with the history of Egypt” (more on that doctoring below). The exhibition “pay[s] homage” to Diop’s “seminal” 1974 book, The African Origin of Civilization: Myth or Reality, the Met explains.
So who was this “influential Egyptologist, scientist, [and] activist,” as the Met describes him? Diop came from an aristocratic Muslim background in Senegal. In the 1950s, he participated in Paris’s anti-colonial student groups. Diop’s research aims were unapologetically political. He hoped to accelerate Africa’s independence movements by “reconquer[ing] a Promethean consciousness” among the African peoples, he wrote in The African Origin of Civilization. Such a task would be impossible so long as the proposition that ancient Egypt was a Negro civilization “does not appear legitimate.”
In Diop’s telling, in prehistoric times, black Africans moved into the Nile Valley from the South, merged with the blacks already living there, established the ancient Egyptian dynasties, then migrated back across the Sahara into the South. The less demanding conditions those black Egyptians found south of the Sahara discouraged the further development of science and engineering that had begun under the pharaohs. “The Negro became indifferent towards material progress,” Diop writes. Rather than pursuing scientific knowledge, the southern Africans concentrated on perfecting their political arrangements. Those political structures were and have remained superior to those of the West, in Diop’s view. Africans also far exceeded the Europeans in the “social and moral order,” which was on the “same level of perfection” as their political order.
Scientific progress may have come to a standstill back in Sub-Saharan Africa, but the gains made in black Egypt during the Pharaonic period, Diop argues, were so great as to serve as the basis for all subsequent developments in the West. “The Black world is the very initiator of the ‘western’ civilization flaunted before our eyes today,” Diop alleged in The African Origin of Civilization. “Pythagorean mathematics, the theory of the four elements of Thales of Miletus, Epicurean materialism, Platonic idealism, Judaism, Islam, and modern science are rooted in Egyptian cosmogony and science.”
Diop’s intellectual history is as shaky as his demographic claims. Leave aside for the moment the question of whether Egypt was black. Graeco–Roman science and philosophy were a different enterprise from Egyptian learning. The Egyptians developed the calendar, the calculation of time, and some medical cures in the second millennium B.C. Their funerary architecture attests to their engineering skills. But the Egyptian numeration system did not provide the basis for Western mathematics. And though the Greeks admired Egyptian accomplishments, the principle of grounding scientific conclusions on logic and empirical evidence—the hallmark of Western science—began with Aristotle, not with the Egyptian dynasties.
As for Diop’s arguments regarding ancient Egypt’s black racial identity, they rest on Old Testament myth, cherry-picked images of Egyptian sculpture, a reference to “black” Egyptians by Herodotus, and a few alleged similarities between Egyptian and African words. According to DNA analysis from the Max Planck Institute in Germany, mummies from the New Kingdom were most closely related to peoples of the Levant (Turkey, Iraq, and Lebanon, among other countries). Modern Egyptians share just 8 percent of their genome with central Africans. As small as that share is, it is much more than that between ancient Egyptians and central and southern Africans; that common 8 percent developed only over the last 1,500 years. The ancient Egyptians, notorious xenophobes, did not believe themselves related to the peoples of the south, with whom their relations were often imperialistic.
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Blessed Are Those Who Mourn
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.Matthew 5:4
Common sense would seem to dictate that mourning is antithetical to blessedness, that lament and sorrow are at odds with happiness and flourishing. However, if we are going to judge reality according to Jesus’ words and not our own, we must apparently conclude otherwise. The wisdom of God is not the wisdom of man.
To “mourn” means to lament or grieve, especially at sin, loss, or death. The disciples “mourned and wept” at Jesus’ death prior to the resurrection (Mk. 16:10), and Paul was afraid that he would have to mourn over those who had “sinned in the past and not repented” when he came to visit the Corinthians a second time (2 Cor. 12:21). James uses the word in the context of grief over sin: “Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom” (Js. 4:9).
Thus to mourn in the New Testament is to feel grief and sorrow, and especially so toward the grim realities of sin and death. It is to feel the awful weight of the curse bearing down on you and to be burdened with a resultant sense of sadness and anguish. In short, to mourn is to see reality as it is; to look this fallen world full in the face, unhindered by naïve illusions, and to feel the only sensible response: sadness, grief, and loss.
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Take Offence at What is Really Offensive
The Bible itself also warns and sometimes describes evil in some amount of detail. But it does so out of love for others. Warning of the many dangers and threats that exist is always the most loving thing to do. So some believers need to stop shooting the messenger. They need to start being offended by the real evil that is out there, and not taking offence with the one who in prophet-like fashion seeks to warn against it.
It happens all the time: those who should know better will take offence at all the wrong things. Primarily, instead of taking offence at the many great evils and dangers that are all around us, some folks – including some rather clueless Christians – will take offence at those who point out these evils, at those who sound the alarm. They are happy to shoot the messenger while ignoring the danger.
The very fact that you are trying to act as a watchman on the wall and warn of impending danger will upset some people. Many are Christians, and they seem to prefer having their heads buried in the sand and not knowing anything about the threats and risks that are all around us.
They just want to live in their own little quiet bubble and not be bothered by a world that is not only going to hell, but is having a very real impact on them and their loved ones, whether they know it or not. Examples of this are many. And I have dealt with them for decades now as I seek to warn and sound the alarm.
For many years the mainstream media would contact me about various issues, including sleazy programs on television (this before the internet had really taken off). Whenever some controversy broke out, I was given a call by the media to give the conservative viewpoint on things. So that I would do.
Yet I even had those who should have been onside making complaints or running with the world’s point of view. ‘If you don’t like what’s on TV, just turn it off’ was a common response I would get from both friend and foe. Hmm, these folks were completely clueless.
I can turn off the TV all I like, or even throw it out the window. But that completely misses the point. My neighbours and their children are still being exposed to all this free-to-air sewage constantly. And as they get contaminated by it, that will have an impact on me and my children. So simply ‘turning it off’ was a rather useless bit of advice. Stopping the rot at the source was the way that we wanted to proceed.
Other examples are easy to come by. How often do we hear both believers and non-believers complain about pictures of aborted babies and the like. They seem to get really offended by this. Well, guess what? They really should be taking offence at abortion! Killing unborn children IS offensive. Warning and trying to raise awareness about it is not.
Indeed, I would suggest that these folks – be they Christians or not – who get more upset and bothered by pictures showing the result of an abortion than the abortion itself have a very skewed moral compass. Their values are wrong – even upside down. Recall that when the Allies won the war they made German citizens go and view the concentration camps. They HAD to be made aware of this gross evil. It should be the same with abortion.
And some Christians will get upset about the least little things, with very little provocation. I recall once when I was working for a pro-family ministry and editing their publications, I ran with an article warning about so-called safe sex and the condom culture.
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