He's been a lot more irritable than usual lately, and he took some of it out on me today.
The original post is about a prisoner who died during CIA interrogation of asphyxiation after being covered with a plastic bag. There's also a picture of the man in a body bag which includes blood-soaked gauze on his right eye. Shea's post talks about information "beaten out of him." Commenter Jeff asks for clarification, since he (and I) got the impression that the man was beaten during interrogation. Shea belittles Jeff, I defend Jeff, and Shea belittles me as well. Shea then goes on to ask Jeff "You do grasp, don't you, that 'homicide' is wrong, don't you?" to which I use Old Testament examples of God-sanctioned homicide to question Shea as to whether homicide is always wrong, resulting in the first post I linked above.
Here's the thing: Mark Shea had a post which seemed to be confusing. At least two people made the assumption that "beaten out of him" actually referred to the dead guy shown in the picture who was the subject of the post, and I think this was a fair assumption to make. It makes it seem as though the man was beaten to death (his injuries came while he was resisting capture) when in fact it was an interrogation gone wrong.
Was it torture to put a bag of air over the man's head? That's a good question, as it could be well-argued that the interrogators are guilty of negligently committing manslaughter because they were wrong to torture him. In Crisis magazine Mark Shea argues that torture is prohibited by Roman Catholic teaching according to section 27 (last paragraph) of the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, quoting:
"Furthermore...whatever violates the integrity of the human person, such as...torments inflicted on body or mind, attempts to coerce the will itself...all these things and others of their like are infamies indeed. They poison human society, but they do more harm to those who practice them than those who suffer from the injury. Moreover, they are supreme dishonor to the Creator."
What I want to know is where the line is. Do the police tactics of playing two suspects off against each other or of talking up the accused's prison time if they don't turn state's evidence count as inflicting torments on the mind? If so, then this is torture. In fact, any attempt to coerce the will, such as offering cable television to inmates who behave themselves, would seem to fit this very overbroad definition. How can we condemn torture if we can't even agree on what it is?
That's part of the problem I've had with Mark Shea's coverage of the treatment of captives. He condemns those who don't agree with his views on what the administration calls "enhanced interrogation techniques" as being the "Rubber Hose Right." The admonition to love our neighbor would seem to say to me that we should send captives home and give them money, as that's certainly what I would like to have happen to me if I were ever to be arrested. I'd probably like for my captors to give me a foot massage as well. Are these techniques effective? I don't know, but someone in power must believe that they can be, and I don't think arguing from results is a very good way to figure out what's ethical. When we can't even define "torture" (or, apparently, "homicide") without including things which it isn't then how can we be upset with folks who disagree with us?
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Apparently, This Blog Gets Read
By my count, it's been 151 weeks since I last said something worth mentioning on TS O'Rama's Spanning the Globe best-of feature. It is therefore with great pride (the good kind) that I announce my reappearance on the charts, and the first appearance since moving to this blog. To be fair, I didn't make up the quote. I'm pretty sure I got it from Shane Claiborne's book The Irresistable Revolution, and he may have gotten it from elsewhere as well.
One thing that jumped out at me, though, was the description of me as "Anglican Robert." That's not false; I am Anglican(-ish). It makes for an interesting juxtaposition with the quote, though, which was that "When Christ returns, He's expecting a bride, not a harem." I may be reading way too much into this, but it seems like a little bit of a dig at such a quote from one regarded as a Protestant (whole separate issue there...) by the Roman Catholic TSO.
As for me, I subscribe to a version of the "Branch Theory," believing that while Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and Anglicanism are all valid forms of Christianity, they're not the only valid forms and that none of them has right to more than ceremonial precedence over any other valid form. Of course, an immediate question of which forms are valid arises, to which I'd reply that Trinitarian forms of Christianity, most especially but perhaps not entirely limited to those which affirm the Nicene Creed. To my mind, the denial of the Eucharist to one who affirms the Nicene Creed is indefensible, as that creed specifically talks about the communion of saints. Unless a group is willing to say that those of another group are not believing Christians, they cannot rightly discriminate in such a way.
Does this squabbling make Christianity a harem, rather than a bride? Perhaps not. What it may simply mean is that we are immature and thus often inconsistent (I doubt many commentators would deny that such statements can be very applicable to Christianity as it is practiced), and that short of healing in Christ, we will never be the Bride of Christ as we are meant to be. On the other hand, when Christians refuse to recognize each other as fellow believers there cannot be said to be unity an any meaningful sense. Some of the more rural churches, which tend to have "Baptist" in their name regardless of any actual affiliation, are stereotypically guilty of this. The Roman Catholics certainly are, in practice even if not with hostile intent. A lot of Evangelical ministries will tell people that in certain countries in South America and Eastern Europe, only some tiny percent of the people are Christians and that they are terriby persecuted by the Roman Catholics or Eastern Orthodox. This implies that they don't consider these other groups to be believers. Of course, Anglicanism often goes the other way, which lets them off one hook only to be snared by another, so it's not blameless, either.
What does all this mean? I guess it just means that I don't find that juxtaposition ironic, as a Roman Catholic might. Nothing wrong with that, and it gave me a reason to blog.
Coming soon: the TribalPundit guide to Wine, Women, and Song. Two of those are probably going to be a lot easier than the other.
One thing that jumped out at me, though, was the description of me as "Anglican Robert." That's not false; I am Anglican(-ish). It makes for an interesting juxtaposition with the quote, though, which was that "When Christ returns, He's expecting a bride, not a harem." I may be reading way too much into this, but it seems like a little bit of a dig at such a quote from one regarded as a Protestant (whole separate issue there...) by the Roman Catholic TSO.
As for me, I subscribe to a version of the "Branch Theory," believing that while Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and Anglicanism are all valid forms of Christianity, they're not the only valid forms and that none of them has right to more than ceremonial precedence over any other valid form. Of course, an immediate question of which forms are valid arises, to which I'd reply that Trinitarian forms of Christianity, most especially but perhaps not entirely limited to those which affirm the Nicene Creed. To my mind, the denial of the Eucharist to one who affirms the Nicene Creed is indefensible, as that creed specifically talks about the communion of saints. Unless a group is willing to say that those of another group are not believing Christians, they cannot rightly discriminate in such a way.
Does this squabbling make Christianity a harem, rather than a bride? Perhaps not. What it may simply mean is that we are immature and thus often inconsistent (I doubt many commentators would deny that such statements can be very applicable to Christianity as it is practiced), and that short of healing in Christ, we will never be the Bride of Christ as we are meant to be. On the other hand, when Christians refuse to recognize each other as fellow believers there cannot be said to be unity an any meaningful sense. Some of the more rural churches, which tend to have "Baptist" in their name regardless of any actual affiliation, are stereotypically guilty of this. The Roman Catholics certainly are, in practice even if not with hostile intent. A lot of Evangelical ministries will tell people that in certain countries in South America and Eastern Europe, only some tiny percent of the people are Christians and that they are terriby persecuted by the Roman Catholics or Eastern Orthodox. This implies that they don't consider these other groups to be believers. Of course, Anglicanism often goes the other way, which lets them off one hook only to be snared by another, so it's not blameless, either.
What does all this mean? I guess it just means that I don't find that juxtaposition ironic, as a Roman Catholic might. Nothing wrong with that, and it gave me a reason to blog.
Coming soon: the TribalPundit guide to Wine, Women, and Song. Two of those are probably going to be a lot easier than the other.
Monday, May 7, 2007
The President as Your Own Personal Jesus
Remember that song by Depeche Mode? "...Someone to hear your prayers; someone who cares..."? According to Martin Gore, the songwriter, the song is about making someone (who isn't God) into your god. As he states, "...that's not a very balanced view of someone, is it?"
What got me thinking about that was the upcoming (-ish...in, you know, like a year and a half) election for President, and how I'm utterly unimpressed with any of the major-party candidates. I tend to vote Republican, not out of any sort of party loyalty but because the candidate on the ballot with whom I most agree has tended to be from the GOP. I wish this weren't the case; I'd like to see some Democrats who aren't supporters of abortion and who think the Iraq war was worth pursuing run so there would be less polarization and more competition between the parties. In some cases, if I'm uninspired by any of the options I'll typically write one of my parents in (they raised me well, so I may as well give them a shot at whatever office it is I'm voting on). I was considering Steve Adams (only one letter away from Adama, and The Admiral has been doing a successful job of shepherding humanity so far...) as something of a protest vote, but I'm now leaning towards Fred Thompson. I'm on board with most of both men's views, but electability is important. I wish Adams well, and hope his candidacy will advance the causes of faith in Christ and in reforming our political system, but we're at too critical of a point in history for me to spend my vote protesting the current way the political process is working.
In any case, part of the problem is that I believe that we Americans, aided in large part by the press, are making the position of President of the United States of America into more than it should be. We want the President to be our leader, chief executive, First Citizen, ambassador at large, hero to children and foreigners, mommy, daddy, and sometimes scapegoat all at once. That's a lot to ask of one man (or woman, when and if that day arrives). He's a celebrity, and we're interested in his personal life, accent, and who's on the ins and who's on the outs with him. If someone in his administration does something stupid or illegal, it becomes a reflection on his leadership. When foreigners, who it should remembered have their own interests in play and should by all rights love their own country more than ours, like or dislike him it is treated as a referendum on whether he's right for America. When something goes wrong we immediately look to him, either for gravitas and the proper expression of the national feeling or as a scapegoat, as though the President controls the stock market or the response of local/state agencies to natural disasters. It's related to the erosion of federalism in our national consciousness in how we always demand the best, even when it's overkill for the situation. I don't need the chrome trim and factory-added decals on my new truck, especially at $429, but darn if it isn't tempting. Nor do I need 2GB of RAM and an advanced video card on a laptop I'm going to use for web browsing and Microsoft Word...but I want it anyway. Why settle for less? In the same way, if I have a problem then I want to know that the President of the United States is on the case.
What we want is to set up a man as our god and king. As a Christian, it's often hard for me to remember that even though I can't find God by my five senses He's always there. However, at least I have faith in God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to carry me through. For those who don't have that faith in what's True, but are simply seeking to do what's right (...and there are those who aren't seeking to do what's right, too), it must be nearly impossible not to want to set up some sort of idol so we can have a place to direct our feelings and longings. As a nation imbued with a Christian aesthetic, even a Protestant and increasingly an Evangelical one, we've set up all sorts of icons and formulations regarding our country. Just trying to sort out all the images on a dollar bill will make your head hurt (it was only the fun story and the pleasant-to-look-at lead actress that helped me while watching National Treasure). As Gideon found out when he made a golden ephod which later became an idol, icons can very easily become idols if we become careless and irresponsible.
To a large extent, that's what I think has happened. Life is complicated, and a good case can be made that we're more aware of more troubles than those in the past. We're worried about the situation in Iraq, although Iran is also kind of scary and it's a good thing the North Koreans are only starving, not shooting the nukes they may or may not have at us. Darfur is worrisome as well, especially as nothing seems to be going on. Meanwhile, depending on your bias, you may believe either that the neocons are working to establish a theocracy with the help of the Illuminati or that militant homosexuals are trying to turn our country into a NAMBLA playground. Taxes are impossible to figure out, some appalling decision was just made by the local government or reached by some court in a state in which you don't live (as your state tends to be a model of reason, as Virginia tends to be). All this and more, which doesn't even include Jenny needing braces and headgear and how Barry Bonds may have used steroids. It's a lot to take in, and shifting some of the responsibility for figuring out how our government works (which, to be fair, is pretty complicated at times) is very tempting. We can't know everything, and even being politically savvy is very time-consuming, especially when we've just gotten back from work and the kids have a soccer game or there's a paper due tomorrow. However, we've seemingly abdicated just about all of our knowledge of our own government and the world of politics. Instead of figuring for which things our state (Commonwealth, in the case of oft-reasonable and definitely exemplary Virginia) is responsible and which things are under the purview of the national government in Washington DC, we simply want to go to the most obvious and seemingly-highest-ranked source, whom we believe to have the power to give and to take away.
From a Christian point-of-view this has its own dangers, and for which (another) over-long post could be written, but it's also unsettling from the perspective of policymaking and concern over maintaining our freedom. Although we cavil about the Patriot Act and possibly-illegal wiretapping, we're very willing to trade or even give away our freedoms and rights. This overmagnification of the office of the Presidency is a symptom of the entropic tendency for a people to let things fall apart, when maintaining our civilization and the many benefits we derive from it is very expensive and time- and energy-consuming. That may have come across as a little melodramatic, but it's not meant to be. If you look at once-great powers Britain and France, or ancient Rome, you can see how this begins to play out. I have some ideas, hopes, and plans on how to revive ourselves, and we're not sunk yet, but it's very easy for one step to become many on the road to mediocrity. We're currently a (the?) great power, and until and unless we can pass the torch, we have a responsibility to guard it.
What got me thinking about that was the upcoming (-ish...in, you know, like a year and a half) election for President, and how I'm utterly unimpressed with any of the major-party candidates. I tend to vote Republican, not out of any sort of party loyalty but because the candidate on the ballot with whom I most agree has tended to be from the GOP. I wish this weren't the case; I'd like to see some Democrats who aren't supporters of abortion and who think the Iraq war was worth pursuing run so there would be less polarization and more competition between the parties. In some cases, if I'm uninspired by any of the options I'll typically write one of my parents in (they raised me well, so I may as well give them a shot at whatever office it is I'm voting on). I was considering Steve Adams (only one letter away from Adama, and The Admiral has been doing a successful job of shepherding humanity so far...) as something of a protest vote, but I'm now leaning towards Fred Thompson. I'm on board with most of both men's views, but electability is important. I wish Adams well, and hope his candidacy will advance the causes of faith in Christ and in reforming our political system, but we're at too critical of a point in history for me to spend my vote protesting the current way the political process is working.
In any case, part of the problem is that I believe that we Americans, aided in large part by the press, are making the position of President of the United States of America into more than it should be. We want the President to be our leader, chief executive, First Citizen, ambassador at large, hero to children and foreigners, mommy, daddy, and sometimes scapegoat all at once. That's a lot to ask of one man (or woman, when and if that day arrives). He's a celebrity, and we're interested in his personal life, accent, and who's on the ins and who's on the outs with him. If someone in his administration does something stupid or illegal, it becomes a reflection on his leadership. When foreigners, who it should remembered have their own interests in play and should by all rights love their own country more than ours, like or dislike him it is treated as a referendum on whether he's right for America. When something goes wrong we immediately look to him, either for gravitas and the proper expression of the national feeling or as a scapegoat, as though the President controls the stock market or the response of local/state agencies to natural disasters. It's related to the erosion of federalism in our national consciousness in how we always demand the best, even when it's overkill for the situation. I don't need the chrome trim and factory-added decals on my new truck, especially at $429, but darn if it isn't tempting. Nor do I need 2GB of RAM and an advanced video card on a laptop I'm going to use for web browsing and Microsoft Word...but I want it anyway. Why settle for less? In the same way, if I have a problem then I want to know that the President of the United States is on the case.
What we want is to set up a man as our god and king. As a Christian, it's often hard for me to remember that even though I can't find God by my five senses He's always there. However, at least I have faith in God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to carry me through. For those who don't have that faith in what's True, but are simply seeking to do what's right (...and there are those who aren't seeking to do what's right, too), it must be nearly impossible not to want to set up some sort of idol so we can have a place to direct our feelings and longings. As a nation imbued with a Christian aesthetic, even a Protestant and increasingly an Evangelical one, we've set up all sorts of icons and formulations regarding our country. Just trying to sort out all the images on a dollar bill will make your head hurt (it was only the fun story and the pleasant-to-look-at lead actress that helped me while watching National Treasure). As Gideon found out when he made a golden ephod which later became an idol, icons can very easily become idols if we become careless and irresponsible.
To a large extent, that's what I think has happened. Life is complicated, and a good case can be made that we're more aware of more troubles than those in the past. We're worried about the situation in Iraq, although Iran is also kind of scary and it's a good thing the North Koreans are only starving, not shooting the nukes they may or may not have at us. Darfur is worrisome as well, especially as nothing seems to be going on. Meanwhile, depending on your bias, you may believe either that the neocons are working to establish a theocracy with the help of the Illuminati or that militant homosexuals are trying to turn our country into a NAMBLA playground. Taxes are impossible to figure out, some appalling decision was just made by the local government or reached by some court in a state in which you don't live (as your state tends to be a model of reason, as Virginia tends to be). All this and more, which doesn't even include Jenny needing braces and headgear and how Barry Bonds may have used steroids. It's a lot to take in, and shifting some of the responsibility for figuring out how our government works (which, to be fair, is pretty complicated at times) is very tempting. We can't know everything, and even being politically savvy is very time-consuming, especially when we've just gotten back from work and the kids have a soccer game or there's a paper due tomorrow. However, we've seemingly abdicated just about all of our knowledge of our own government and the world of politics. Instead of figuring for which things our state (Commonwealth, in the case of oft-reasonable and definitely exemplary Virginia) is responsible and which things are under the purview of the national government in Washington DC, we simply want to go to the most obvious and seemingly-highest-ranked source, whom we believe to have the power to give and to take away.
From a Christian point-of-view this has its own dangers, and for which (another) over-long post could be written, but it's also unsettling from the perspective of policymaking and concern over maintaining our freedom. Although we cavil about the Patriot Act and possibly-illegal wiretapping, we're very willing to trade or even give away our freedoms and rights. This overmagnification of the office of the Presidency is a symptom of the entropic tendency for a people to let things fall apart, when maintaining our civilization and the many benefits we derive from it is very expensive and time- and energy-consuming. That may have come across as a little melodramatic, but it's not meant to be. If you look at once-great powers Britain and France, or ancient Rome, you can see how this begins to play out. I have some ideas, hopes, and plans on how to revive ourselves, and we're not sunk yet, but it's very easy for one step to become many on the road to mediocrity. We're currently a (the?) great power, and until and unless we can pass the torch, we have a responsibility to guard it.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Explaining Catholicism
Being Anglican(-ish) is kind of an interesting situation. At times you're despised by Protestants and Evangelicals* as a crypto-papist but by Roman Catholics as a mere heretic, and at other times you're seen as sufficiently close to whatever the mark is to be a reliable glimpse into the other side. Due to this via media, I think a disproportionate number of Anglicans have looked into Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Wesleyanism, and/or Calvinism at times. I don't know much about Orthodoxy, but I place myself somewhere between Wesleyanism and Catholicism and utterly reject Calvinism. However, my interest in denominations has gained me something of a reputation as a go-to guy for people having questions about other Christian traditions.
One of those instances was tonight, when a friend of mine invited me over to talk to her roommate about what Roman Catholics believe, as the roommate is Evangelical but has her eye on a Catholic guy. Of course, I'm not Roman Catholic, but I have a copy of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, have attended RC masses, and have read up on Catholic beliefs. I've been told that my understanding of Catholicism is pretty much on-target, although I do have some serious disagreements with it.
In any case, she and my friend quizzed me for a long while, asking for clarification and Biblical support for Catholic doctrines. I went and explained how the RCs see the Bible as coming through the Church, how praying to saints is like asking a friend to pray with you, how Catholics don't try to work their way into heaven, and how sacraments are seen as imparting a change on the nature of the recipient. I also pointed out that in terms of the Holy Spirit, Catholic and Pentecostals/Charismatics are much closer to each other than they are to Cessationist Protestants and Evangelicals. They took it in, asked good questions, and said they might have some other questions soon.
For me, I really enjoy that kind of discussion. Catholics and non-Catholics alike tend to have mistaken understandings of each other, and that's not a good thing. I have some serious disagreements with Catholic doctrine; I don't claim that they worship the Pope or believe Mary is greater than Jesus. It'll take a miracle for there to be true reconciliation, but perhaps the drift can be slowed and a process of healing the universal Church can begin. After all, when Christ returns, he's expecting a bride, not a harem.
*Modern Evangelicalism isn't really a protest against Catholicism. In fact, it often has very little to do with Mainline Protestantism, especially if the Evangelicals are also Charismatics. Catholics seem to often use the term "Protestant" to refer to all non-Orthodox non-Catholics, and "Fundamentalist" to refer to Evangelicals. In general, Mainline Protestants (classically, Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, and Baptists) refer to themselves as Protestants, while Evangelicals (a more nebulous group, but almost always including "Bible Church" groups) generally consider "Fundamentalist" to be pejorative unless they're KJV-only and do things like forbid dancing, card-playing, and movies. Calling an Evangelical a Fundamentalist is like calling a Roman Catholic a Papist (or Mary-Worshipper), and calling an Evangelical a Protestant is like saying that the Greek Orthodox are Catholics.
One of those instances was tonight, when a friend of mine invited me over to talk to her roommate about what Roman Catholics believe, as the roommate is Evangelical but has her eye on a Catholic guy. Of course, I'm not Roman Catholic, but I have a copy of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, have attended RC masses, and have read up on Catholic beliefs. I've been told that my understanding of Catholicism is pretty much on-target, although I do have some serious disagreements with it.
In any case, she and my friend quizzed me for a long while, asking for clarification and Biblical support for Catholic doctrines. I went and explained how the RCs see the Bible as coming through the Church, how praying to saints is like asking a friend to pray with you, how Catholics don't try to work their way into heaven, and how sacraments are seen as imparting a change on the nature of the recipient. I also pointed out that in terms of the Holy Spirit, Catholic and Pentecostals/Charismatics are much closer to each other than they are to Cessationist Protestants and Evangelicals. They took it in, asked good questions, and said they might have some other questions soon.
For me, I really enjoy that kind of discussion. Catholics and non-Catholics alike tend to have mistaken understandings of each other, and that's not a good thing. I have some serious disagreements with Catholic doctrine; I don't claim that they worship the Pope or believe Mary is greater than Jesus. It'll take a miracle for there to be true reconciliation, but perhaps the drift can be slowed and a process of healing the universal Church can begin. After all, when Christ returns, he's expecting a bride, not a harem.
*Modern Evangelicalism isn't really a protest against Catholicism. In fact, it often has very little to do with Mainline Protestantism, especially if the Evangelicals are also Charismatics. Catholics seem to often use the term "Protestant" to refer to all non-Orthodox non-Catholics, and "Fundamentalist" to refer to Evangelicals. In general, Mainline Protestants (classically, Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, and Baptists) refer to themselves as Protestants, while Evangelicals (a more nebulous group, but almost always including "Bible Church" groups) generally consider "Fundamentalist" to be pejorative unless they're KJV-only and do things like forbid dancing, card-playing, and movies. Calling an Evangelical a Fundamentalist is like calling a Roman Catholic a Papist (or Mary-Worshipper), and calling an Evangelical a Protestant is like saying that the Greek Orthodox are Catholics.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Economics? From Me?
Well, not instigated by me, at least. I was just reading one of TS O'Rama' posts, this time contemplating the relationship between monetary and soteriological (I like big words) economies. He points out that CS Lewis prayed for relief for his wife's pain and experienced more pain just as hers was lessening. I've heard similar stories from others I know personally, and TS rightly notes how this can be confusing: if we say that pain seems to be zero-sum, is that an argument that God isn't all-powerful and able to simply take away pain without a 1:1 compensation?
At first I thought that perhaps this would imply that the penalty for literally every sin committed by mankind was borne by Christ, and that this seemed very implausible as each of us (probably) sins every day and there have been billions of people, while Jesus only had 33 years. As much as He suffered, there's still not a 1:1 payment of pain. However, the wages of sin isn't pain, but death, and thus it could be argued that Christ's one innocent death was worth billions of guilty deaths (although I'm sympathetic to Lewis's and Wesley's views of a more governmental nature of atonement). I feel as though I'm writing very densely and not really connecting the dots for anyone reading this; I'll try and do better.
It seems to me that at least some pain is transferable, at least indirectly. When Jesus cast out the "Legion" demons from the possessed man, they asked to be allowed a specific other place to dwell. While not all pain is due to demons, at least some seems to be. Perhaps some is also the payment (or consequence or due) for something, and simply must be suffered by someone. If this is the case, like the penalty for sin, then it would seem that it could be transferred, especially by request of someone sympathetic. As for other pain, which is simply the consequence of living in a fallen world, I don't know that there's any reason why it should be able to be transferred, although perhaps it could be removed.
At first I thought that perhaps this would imply that the penalty for literally every sin committed by mankind was borne by Christ, and that this seemed very implausible as each of us (probably) sins every day and there have been billions of people, while Jesus only had 33 years. As much as He suffered, there's still not a 1:1 payment of pain. However, the wages of sin isn't pain, but death, and thus it could be argued that Christ's one innocent death was worth billions of guilty deaths (although I'm sympathetic to Lewis's and Wesley's views of a more governmental nature of atonement). I feel as though I'm writing very densely and not really connecting the dots for anyone reading this; I'll try and do better.
It seems to me that at least some pain is transferable, at least indirectly. When Jesus cast out the "Legion" demons from the possessed man, they asked to be allowed a specific other place to dwell. While not all pain is due to demons, at least some seems to be. Perhaps some is also the payment (or consequence or due) for something, and simply must be suffered by someone. If this is the case, like the penalty for sin, then it would seem that it could be transferred, especially by request of someone sympathetic. As for other pain, which is simply the consequence of living in a fallen world, I don't know that there's any reason why it should be able to be transferred, although perhaps it could be removed.
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