So some of you (for reasons I can only imagine) follow along with me in spite of the fact that you don't believe most of the stuff I post about. Thanks for coming along anyway!
Let me explain a little something about my people who inhabit my corner of the American sub-culture, a.k.a. evangelical Christianity.
For much of our country's history, Christianity had a good bit of sway. Even when people didn't subscribe fully to all the tenets, the basic Judeo-Christian framework was still the core operating system.
"Christendom" is one name given to an era when Christianity functions as a quasi-moral compass in the broader culture. I recently heard one boomer talk about how his parents were committed Christians and his in-laws were not, but their lives looked basically the same on the outside.
Christendom ruled over "the greatest generation" of World War II vets up to the boomer generation, and so there was a good deal of commonality in terms of the day-to-day practices of many--obviously with lots and lots of exceptions. This was true even as there were tremendous assaults on the validity of the Bible and church authority throughout the early part of the twentieth century.
That's shifted a good bit over the past couple of generations. And many folks in my part of the world (particularly the really, really theologically and politically conservative ones) are really upset about the loss of "Christendom."
But I live and minister in a part of the country where Christendom still holds some sway. And at times I find it more difficult, not less, to talk about matters of faith in ways that are fresh and awakening.
"Inoculation" is when people get a weakened form of a virus or disease in order to build up appropriate anti-bodies to fight off the genuine form of the virus or disease. This is the deadly fruit of Christendom. They become inoculated with a weaker form of Christianity and thus resist the real thing.
Many of the people I work with have all the right vocabulary and all the wrong definitions. They think they already "get" Jesus, sin, grace, forgiveness, mercy, justice and the like. They don't (not that any of us do), and it's infinitely more complicated because they think that they do.
And that's in large part what I fight against as I wage war against Christendom here in the South. Christendom is not a friend except to those Christians who value a "same as me" cultural hegemony and familiarity and comfort over the genuine engagement with the truth of the gospel. Christendom is an enemy of the true gospel. Thank goodness it is dissipating...even here in the South.
Kierkegaard (a long-dead philosopher) has this to say: "Remove from the Christian Religion, as Christendom has done, its ability to shock, and Christianity...is altogether destroyed. It then becomes a tiny superficial thing, capable neither of inflicting deep wounds nor of healing them"
Showing posts with label arm-chair sociological musings meets arm chair theological musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label arm-chair sociological musings meets arm chair theological musings. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
The Place Where Fundamentalism and Atheism Intersect
So my dad grew up in a very conservative Christian church environment. The primary ethical mantra of his growing up years: Don't drink. Don't smoke. Don't dance. Don't chew [that's tobacco, in case you're confused]. And don't consort with those who do.
There are many problems with this from a Christian perspective. The most obvious is that Jesus himself would have failed on at least one or two of these imperatives and he certainly hung out with people who did all of them.
But another reason why this is poor is that it builds the primary ethic around the negative: it's all about living into the "no."
Very few people find it compelling to build their lives around being primarily against something or primarily about not doing something. It's not very emotionally or psychologically satisfying.
This is especially true in the west, and particularly here in the U.S. where much of our culture is about pressing ahead into the future...for better or for worse.
And this is why I think atheism will never have much luck in establishing itself as the 'religious preference of the masses.' It's just not that invigorating to build one's life around the belief that something does not exist. I don't believe in UFO's. I'm not really all that excited about getting all that excited about that.
So here, let's take a moment to pity the would-be evangelistic atheist. Not only are we all built to worship something and not only are we all made in God's image and so we tend to search for God--all these are unfair competitive advantages in and of themselves for us spiritual/religious types.
But on top of all that, the atheist also has to work hard to convince us that it's worth getting amped up about the hypothetical fact that God does not exist.
And then if he/she can convince us (although let's face the fact that atheism over the centuries has been overwhelmingly the exclusive property of power-hoarding white males, with a few notable exceptions) that this might be the case, they have to then try to get us on board with spreading the good news about nothing existing.
And so the super-fundy Christian church and the evangelistic atheist make for strange bedfellows and both have an important lesson to learn: we were made to live our lives for something much, much greater than simple, dull negations. We were made to live for something more than a "no."
And so it is with great joy that the Scriptures sing out, "no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'yes!' in Christ Jesus!" We were made to live our lives for that yes.
Christian leaders, we've got to be the ones who are leading with God's yes...even and especially where it includes a very clear 'no.'
I'm quite sure that all of this is about much greater things than drinking, dancing, or smoking...and it might have everything to do with consorting with those who do.
There are many problems with this from a Christian perspective. The most obvious is that Jesus himself would have failed on at least one or two of these imperatives and he certainly hung out with people who did all of them.
But another reason why this is poor is that it builds the primary ethic around the negative: it's all about living into the "no."
Very few people find it compelling to build their lives around being primarily against something or primarily about not doing something. It's not very emotionally or psychologically satisfying.
This is especially true in the west, and particularly here in the U.S. where much of our culture is about pressing ahead into the future...for better or for worse.
And this is why I think atheism will never have much luck in establishing itself as the 'religious preference of the masses.' It's just not that invigorating to build one's life around the belief that something does not exist. I don't believe in UFO's. I'm not really all that excited about getting all that excited about that.
So here, let's take a moment to pity the would-be evangelistic atheist. Not only are we all built to worship something and not only are we all made in God's image and so we tend to search for God--all these are unfair competitive advantages in and of themselves for us spiritual/religious types.
But on top of all that, the atheist also has to work hard to convince us that it's worth getting amped up about the hypothetical fact that God does not exist.
And then if he/she can convince us (although let's face the fact that atheism over the centuries has been overwhelmingly the exclusive property of power-hoarding white males, with a few notable exceptions) that this might be the case, they have to then try to get us on board with spreading the good news about nothing existing.
And so the super-fundy Christian church and the evangelistic atheist make for strange bedfellows and both have an important lesson to learn: we were made to live our lives for something much, much greater than simple, dull negations. We were made to live for something more than a "no."
And so it is with great joy that the Scriptures sing out, "no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'yes!' in Christ Jesus!" We were made to live our lives for that yes.
Christian leaders, we've got to be the ones who are leading with God's yes...even and especially where it includes a very clear 'no.'
I'm quite sure that all of this is about much greater things than drinking, dancing, or smoking...and it might have everything to do with consorting with those who do.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Getting Squirrelly with Suffering: "Left Behind, " The Protestant Work Ethic, and Helpful Catholic Correctives
So my friend and former student Tim, never missing an opportunity to point out the ways that a healthy dose of Catholicism might set me straight, commented on yesterday's post about suffering:
"I think modern Christianity seems to think the two are antithetical--if you're suffering then you aren't joyful. The traditional/catholic perspective--and the one indicated by Scripture--seems to me to be that unless we share in Christ's suffering, then we will not share in his joy either."
I think Tim, as he often is, is right on. In much of American Protestant/evangelical Christianity, suffering is something to be avoided or managed...or worse is a sign that God's angry with you.
This taps into something I've been mulling over. Scripture has in some ways informed the general Western view of suffering as bad or something to be managed or avoided as opposed to the Eastern view of suffering which understands suffering as something to be embraced as a part of normal life.
Much of what has captured the West's imagination post the Reformation (and informed the Protestant work ethic) is the concept of end-times and our possible participation in bringing about God's kingdom on earth.
Some of this has been shaped (at least in the U.S.) by a century or so of a very questionable end-times theology fueled by dispensationalism which has (thankfully) mostly gone out of favor, but is still behind much pop-evangelicalism. The "Left Behind" series is yet another (but hopefully among the last) unfortunate product of what I believe to be a mistaken view of what the end will look like.
One of the views of end-times thinking was that as God's people worked to bring about his kingdom things would inevitably get better and better until it reached a point of nearly-fully-redeemed-ness. Then Jesus would come back and we would all live happily ever after.
And so, for the love of everything good and holy, Christians got to work. They believed that in Jesus' power all (or nearly all) things could and would be fixed before he came. This notion of "fixing" things has marked much of the West's cultural influence and has born good fruit (vaccinations, for example) and bad fruit (colonialism and genocide, just to name a couple).
But the natural outworking of this is to see suffering in a specific light. That is, suffering is a problem to be eradicated so that Jesus would return.
And even as dispensationalism (and that specific end-times theory) falls out of favor and even as Christianity as a whole recedes a bit from the western consciousness, this core value of "fixing things" continues to live on as one of our favorite self-identifying characteristics.
This, of course, robs us of a true Biblical understanding of Christianity. As my friend Tim has proposed, the point is not that suffering is to be avoided or even managed but it is to be embraced as a part of our participation with Christ.
This can get squirrelly. Suffering in and of itself is evil and will one day be done away with once and for all. We do not celebrate suffering. We celebrate Jesus who is Lord over suffering and who invites us to share in his suffering that we along with him might know fullness of joy and victory.
When we are doing that, we can walk in the goodness of participating in the redemption of a broken world while at the same time walk in suffering as a participant in Christ, with Christ, for the joy set before us.
"I think modern Christianity seems to think the two are antithetical--if you're suffering then you aren't joyful. The traditional/catholic perspective--and the one indicated by Scripture--seems to me to be that unless we share in Christ's suffering, then we will not share in his joy either."
I think Tim, as he often is, is right on. In much of American Protestant/evangelical Christianity, suffering is something to be avoided or managed...or worse is a sign that God's angry with you.
This taps into something I've been mulling over. Scripture has in some ways informed the general Western view of suffering as bad or something to be managed or avoided as opposed to the Eastern view of suffering which understands suffering as something to be embraced as a part of normal life.
Much of what has captured the West's imagination post the Reformation (and informed the Protestant work ethic) is the concept of end-times and our possible participation in bringing about God's kingdom on earth.
Some of this has been shaped (at least in the U.S.) by a century or so of a very questionable end-times theology fueled by dispensationalism which has (thankfully) mostly gone out of favor, but is still behind much pop-evangelicalism. The "Left Behind" series is yet another (but hopefully among the last) unfortunate product of what I believe to be a mistaken view of what the end will look like.
One of the views of end-times thinking was that as God's people worked to bring about his kingdom things would inevitably get better and better until it reached a point of nearly-fully-redeemed-ness. Then Jesus would come back and we would all live happily ever after.
And so, for the love of everything good and holy, Christians got to work. They believed that in Jesus' power all (or nearly all) things could and would be fixed before he came. This notion of "fixing" things has marked much of the West's cultural influence and has born good fruit (vaccinations, for example) and bad fruit (colonialism and genocide, just to name a couple).
But the natural outworking of this is to see suffering in a specific light. That is, suffering is a problem to be eradicated so that Jesus would return.
And even as dispensationalism (and that specific end-times theory) falls out of favor and even as Christianity as a whole recedes a bit from the western consciousness, this core value of "fixing things" continues to live on as one of our favorite self-identifying characteristics.
This, of course, robs us of a true Biblical understanding of Christianity. As my friend Tim has proposed, the point is not that suffering is to be avoided or even managed but it is to be embraced as a part of our participation with Christ.
This can get squirrelly. Suffering in and of itself is evil and will one day be done away with once and for all. We do not celebrate suffering. We celebrate Jesus who is Lord over suffering and who invites us to share in his suffering that we along with him might know fullness of joy and victory.
When we are doing that, we can walk in the goodness of participating in the redemption of a broken world while at the same time walk in suffering as a participant in Christ, with Christ, for the joy set before us.
Monday, December 14, 2009
The Duplicitous Response to Tiger Woods Duplicity
So I'm a little amused by the media-world's reaction to the Tiger Woods saga.
Here's the deal: if we're going to worship sex as a god, it's going to have consequences. Give most any man the kind of temptations that Tiger Woods would receive on any given weekend and 95.9% of them would do what he did.
The thing that roots my commitment to my wife (perhaps strangely) is theology: what it means to be image-bearers of God, the God-ordained purpose of sexuality, a commitment to following Jesus no matter what the cost, and a growing understanding of what it means that marriage is supposed to mirror Christ's commitment to the church.
Mix in the power of God's Spirit. God's Spirit has worked in me over many years to shape my sexuality, my disciplines, my thoughts, my desires for marriage and to develop in me holy appetites for things more important and more eternal than sexual experiences. I pray that God will continue to develop and keep me. I'm not done battling for myself, my marriage, and my family. That battle will go on for most of my days.
But take all that away, and all you have is meager will-power contra raging hormones. Hormones will win that battle eventually in most cases. See Letterman, David, Clinton, Bill, and on and on and on and on.
I'm not saying that only Christians can be faithful to spouses. Obviously, some who do not hold to the same worldview that I do manage to honor their marriage vows. They would have to speak to their own motives for doing so. For myself, I can only see either the most will-powered, the most conscientious, or the least sought-after surviving apart from a commitment to something greater than themselves. .
Sadly, many who claim to (and some who indeed do) follow Jesus still fall into marital infidelity. For many, that point becomes a significant watershed place of repentance, awakening,and transformation co-mingled with the pain and brokenness.
Such is the power of the gospel, the power of the God who loves us and who offers forgiveness, that he can redeem even the most broken and willfully committed of acts.
I'm just saying that it's duplicitous for us as a culture to condemn a man who simply does what our culture has encouraged him to do for his entire life. It does not excuse what he's done. I believe what he's done is destructive and awful.
But I believe that because of a ton of other things that I believe that our culture en mass does not. On what grounds is the media throwing stones? And what's with all these glass houses everywhere?
Perhaps here, too, I am conflicted. Which symptom of cultural dis-ease would be worse: for the condemnation to rain down (in spite of the fact that there is no actual reason why most do so) or for no one to note or even care? Perhaps the latter would be far worse.
But both options would be indicative of cultural sickness. And perhaps that, in the end, is the point. Let's call it what it is: sickness. And let us, along with Tiger, repent and turn back to the God who made us (sexuality and all) that we might live the life we were made for.
Here's the deal: if we're going to worship sex as a god, it's going to have consequences. Give most any man the kind of temptations that Tiger Woods would receive on any given weekend and 95.9% of them would do what he did.
The thing that roots my commitment to my wife (perhaps strangely) is theology: what it means to be image-bearers of God, the God-ordained purpose of sexuality, a commitment to following Jesus no matter what the cost, and a growing understanding of what it means that marriage is supposed to mirror Christ's commitment to the church.
Mix in the power of God's Spirit. God's Spirit has worked in me over many years to shape my sexuality, my disciplines, my thoughts, my desires for marriage and to develop in me holy appetites for things more important and more eternal than sexual experiences. I pray that God will continue to develop and keep me. I'm not done battling for myself, my marriage, and my family. That battle will go on for most of my days.
But take all that away, and all you have is meager will-power contra raging hormones. Hormones will win that battle eventually in most cases. See Letterman, David, Clinton, Bill, and on and on and on and on.
I'm not saying that only Christians can be faithful to spouses. Obviously, some who do not hold to the same worldview that I do manage to honor their marriage vows. They would have to speak to their own motives for doing so. For myself, I can only see either the most will-powered, the most conscientious, or the least sought-after surviving apart from a commitment to something greater than themselves. .
Sadly, many who claim to (and some who indeed do) follow Jesus still fall into marital infidelity. For many, that point becomes a significant watershed place of repentance, awakening,and transformation co-mingled with the pain and brokenness.
Such is the power of the gospel, the power of the God who loves us and who offers forgiveness, that he can redeem even the most broken and willfully committed of acts.
I'm just saying that it's duplicitous for us as a culture to condemn a man who simply does what our culture has encouraged him to do for his entire life. It does not excuse what he's done. I believe what he's done is destructive and awful.
But I believe that because of a ton of other things that I believe that our culture en mass does not. On what grounds is the media throwing stones? And what's with all these glass houses everywhere?
Perhaps here, too, I am conflicted. Which symptom of cultural dis-ease would be worse: for the condemnation to rain down (in spite of the fact that there is no actual reason why most do so) or for no one to note or even care? Perhaps the latter would be far worse.
But both options would be indicative of cultural sickness. And perhaps that, in the end, is the point. Let's call it what it is: sickness. And let us, along with Tiger, repent and turn back to the God who made us (sexuality and all) that we might live the life we were made for.
Monday, December 07, 2009
Growing Kids Satan's Way and Perpetual Self-Righteousness Tendencies
Yesterday's post drew quite a number of responses. One comment celebrated being out of college--to her there were a greater number of opportunities for self-righteousness while in school surrounded by Christians.
I've been thinking on this today and on the one hand, I agree. When you get a community full of eighteen to twenty-two-year-olds together, passion is high. That can often get mis-directed into self-righteousness. And Craig Fowler proposes in his 'stages of faith' that we all have to go through a black-and-white stage as a part of our development spiritually, and that's typically where college students are.
But I would argue that self-righteousness is one-hundred-percent a part of the human condition. No matter how old we are or what life stage we are in, we are always looking for something to be our righteousness apart from Christ.
We're incomplete creatures. In our clearest moments we know this. God offers to complete us in Christ. But we reject that (some of us aggressively and obviously, others of us in more subtle ways) and try to find other things to prop us up, to validate us or to give us a sense of worth.
When that gets externalized in clear and proud ways we call it being 'self-righteous' about something. That takes all sorts of forms, and it's particularly ugly when religion gets involved with it, as Jesus' interactions with the religious leaders shows.
When we had our first child six years ago, one question swirling around us was were we going to "grow our kids God's way" (also a title of a book for those of you who aren't a part of my little slice of the Christian world)?
We looked at it and decided no, we weren't--at least, not all the way. Did that mean we were growing kids Satan's way? To some people, it did. That was the way, the only way, to do it correctly.
But then we started looking into the complete polar-opposite approach to parenting: attachment parenting. It has a more hippie, less religious feel to it...but the people on that end of the spectrum were just as rabid, just as "self-righteous" about it as anyone on the more religious end who were growing kids God's way.
The point is that self-righteousness is always our temptation, at every age and every stage of our lives. In this parenting world, both attachment parenting and 'growing kids God's way' advocates were expressing the exact same distorted self-righteousness, just using different outlets or forms.
All of us are tempted to be 'justified,' propped up, validated by someone or something apart from what God has done for us in Jesus: our money, our friendships, our kids behavior, what we think we know about theology or cars or music or the economy or home repair.
For those of us who claim to follow Jesus, self-righteous arrogance should be the last thing that we express. This whole project is built on the fundamental presupposition that we have no such thing as righteousness that comes from ourselves. This whole thing starts with admitting that we're broken, sinful, needy people. That's where we meet grace. That's what this whole thing is about, start to finish.
And all of our self-righteousness must go if we are ever to become fully human. Not that we don't grow in knowledge or experience or have things to offer one another in terms of correction or information or helps. But we offer that humbly, acknowledging that none of it is the "righteousness" that we were actually made to inhabit. None of it actually ever heals our hearts.
Not even if you're growing kids God's way.
I've been thinking on this today and on the one hand, I agree. When you get a community full of eighteen to twenty-two-year-olds together, passion is high. That can often get mis-directed into self-righteousness. And Craig Fowler proposes in his 'stages of faith' that we all have to go through a black-and-white stage as a part of our development spiritually, and that's typically where college students are.
But I would argue that self-righteousness is one-hundred-percent a part of the human condition. No matter how old we are or what life stage we are in, we are always looking for something to be our righteousness apart from Christ.
We're incomplete creatures. In our clearest moments we know this. God offers to complete us in Christ. But we reject that (some of us aggressively and obviously, others of us in more subtle ways) and try to find other things to prop us up, to validate us or to give us a sense of worth.
When that gets externalized in clear and proud ways we call it being 'self-righteous' about something. That takes all sorts of forms, and it's particularly ugly when religion gets involved with it, as Jesus' interactions with the religious leaders shows.
When we had our first child six years ago, one question swirling around us was were we going to "grow our kids God's way" (also a title of a book for those of you who aren't a part of my little slice of the Christian world)?
We looked at it and decided no, we weren't--at least, not all the way. Did that mean we were growing kids Satan's way? To some people, it did. That was the way, the only way, to do it correctly.
But then we started looking into the complete polar-opposite approach to parenting: attachment parenting. It has a more hippie, less religious feel to it...but the people on that end of the spectrum were just as rabid, just as "self-righteous" about it as anyone on the more religious end who were growing kids God's way.
The point is that self-righteousness is always our temptation, at every age and every stage of our lives. In this parenting world, both attachment parenting and 'growing kids God's way' advocates were expressing the exact same distorted self-righteousness, just using different outlets or forms.
All of us are tempted to be 'justified,' propped up, validated by someone or something apart from what God has done for us in Jesus: our money, our friendships, our kids behavior, what we think we know about theology or cars or music or the economy or home repair.
For those of us who claim to follow Jesus, self-righteous arrogance should be the last thing that we express. This whole project is built on the fundamental presupposition that we have no such thing as righteousness that comes from ourselves. This whole thing starts with admitting that we're broken, sinful, needy people. That's where we meet grace. That's what this whole thing is about, start to finish.
And all of our self-righteousness must go if we are ever to become fully human. Not that we don't grow in knowledge or experience or have things to offer one another in terms of correction or information or helps. But we offer that humbly, acknowledging that none of it is the "righteousness" that we were actually made to inhabit. None of it actually ever heals our hearts.
Not even if you're growing kids God's way.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Stuck with DSL & Patient Expectation
One of the many benefits of being involved with campus ministry with InterVarsity is the opportunity to interact with other IV staff workers. The past several days I was in meetings with some of the most gifted and thoughtful people I know--the Eastern Carolina's area team, a.k.a, the Heavy Hitters.
One highlight for me of our quarterly-ish meetings is time together in Scripture. The other morning we were looking at Isaiah 61, one of the most poetically glorious passages in all of Scripture. Here's a small sample of it:
As we read through this passage, sat in it and discussed it, our overwhelming sense was, "Yes! We need this! In our lives, on our campuses! Let's see this roll out now!"
But the context calls us up short. These are promises made to people in captivity. And these specific promises will take many, many years to come to their fulfillment.
In fact, it could be argued that the promises don't ever become fully realized until Jesus comes. This is the scroll he picks to read in Luke 4, his debut sermon. After he reads this, he says, "today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."
So basically, this promise isn't fulfilled for many, many generations. And the question raised by one of my astute co-workers: what does patient expectation look like?
Does anything in our culture encourage this kind of a long obedience in the same, expectant, patient, hopeful, deliberate, eager waiting direction?
And the follow-up for us as campus ministers: does anything in our student's world help them to think in these terms?
In Jesus' time, the stuff the every-day person handled was soil, seeds, plants, harvest, wood, metal, and the like. Those things required patience over a long-haul in order to achieve hoped-for results. The crop to come in three months captured the daily imagination. Or the table that was forming out of the wood in the shop. Those were the daily imaginings of the average worker in Palestine.
The internet is what shapes our imagination today. Nothing waiting about it, unless you're stuck with a DSL connection which then takes all of two seconds instead of two tenths of a second to download something. Not exactly what the Scriptures are calling us to when it comes to a patient expectation.
All of this simply means that we must work all the more to root ourselves in the culture of the Land of the Trinity over and above the culture(s) of this world. We must learn how Life there works, how promises are made and actually kept there. What waiting looks like. What hoping looks like. What true loving looks like.
We must, in other words, soak ourselves in God. He is our good. And he promises us many things, few of which download as quickly as an internet site does. Where will we learn this foreign Land of the Trinity value of patient expectation?
Only by sitting with Jesus in prayer and in the Scriptures.
One highlight for me of our quarterly-ish meetings is time together in Scripture. The other morning we were looking at Isaiah 61, one of the most poetically glorious passages in all of Scripture. Here's a small sample of it:
1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,And it just keeps going, rolling out promise after promise of replacing brokenness with wholeness, sadness with joy, defeat with victory, loss with hope.
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called mighty oaks,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
As we read through this passage, sat in it and discussed it, our overwhelming sense was, "Yes! We need this! In our lives, on our campuses! Let's see this roll out now!"
But the context calls us up short. These are promises made to people in captivity. And these specific promises will take many, many years to come to their fulfillment.
In fact, it could be argued that the promises don't ever become fully realized until Jesus comes. This is the scroll he picks to read in Luke 4, his debut sermon. After he reads this, he says, "today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."
So basically, this promise isn't fulfilled for many, many generations. And the question raised by one of my astute co-workers: what does patient expectation look like?
Does anything in our culture encourage this kind of a long obedience in the same, expectant, patient, hopeful, deliberate, eager waiting direction?
And the follow-up for us as campus ministers: does anything in our student's world help them to think in these terms?
In Jesus' time, the stuff the every-day person handled was soil, seeds, plants, harvest, wood, metal, and the like. Those things required patience over a long-haul in order to achieve hoped-for results. The crop to come in three months captured the daily imagination. Or the table that was forming out of the wood in the shop. Those were the daily imaginings of the average worker in Palestine.
The internet is what shapes our imagination today. Nothing waiting about it, unless you're stuck with a DSL connection which then takes all of two seconds instead of two tenths of a second to download something. Not exactly what the Scriptures are calling us to when it comes to a patient expectation.
All of this simply means that we must work all the more to root ourselves in the culture of the Land of the Trinity over and above the culture(s) of this world. We must learn how Life there works, how promises are made and actually kept there. What waiting looks like. What hoping looks like. What true loving looks like.
We must, in other words, soak ourselves in God. He is our good. And he promises us many things, few of which download as quickly as an internet site does. Where will we learn this foreign Land of the Trinity value of patient expectation?
Only by sitting with Jesus in prayer and in the Scriptures.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Fifth Grade Social Dynamics and the Power of Invitation
I remember it well, in part because it was one of my few elementary school victories.
When I walked into my 5th grade class one early-fall morning, there was an envelope on top of the chair turned upside-down on my desk. Inside the envelope was an invitation. Jonathan Wilmeth was having a birthday slumber party. And I was one of the five guys invited.
This catapulted my social standing in the class. All year long we had slumber parties, and I got invited to each one. Unfortunately, I peaked socially in fifth grade--it was all down hill from there until college!
If the Christian story is true, then a Relationship is at the center of the universe: Father, Son, Holy Spirit.
And if the Christian story is true, we are made in God's image, and therefore we are innately relational beings.
And if the Christian story is true, then what's gone wrong with the world is broken relationships: first with God, then with one another (between individuals, in families, between people-groups or nations, between the genders), then with the earth, and then with how we relate to things or work (think of the dad who loves his car or his investments more than his kids).
The Christian story calls those broken relationships sin.
So if a Relationship is at the center of the universe and broken relationships are what is wrong with the world, then one of the most explosive relational dynamics at our disposal is the power of invitation.
Invitation is an innately relational thing. To invite someone into a relationship with you is one of the most significant gifts you can give anyone. To invite someone to relate rightly to their world, their parents, to their GPA, to their car or kids, to their money, and especially to their Creator is at the heart of making broken things right in this world.
And of course, invitation to do the wrong thing has power to further complicate and destroy the creation.
Many of you have deep and lasting regrets because you took someone or something up on an invitation to do or try or relate in a way that was destructive, foolish, or just turned out poorly. You slept with that person. You tried that business venture. You took on that project that sucked all your time and energy away from other things.
If we are innately relational beings, and broken relationships are what's wrong with the world, then the power we have for good or ill in invitation is one of the most overlooked relational dynamics in the world.
I think Jesus understood the power and importance of invitation. I think this is why he starts his ministry with a powerful and essential invitation: "Come, follow me."
When I walked into my 5th grade class one early-fall morning, there was an envelope on top of the chair turned upside-down on my desk. Inside the envelope was an invitation. Jonathan Wilmeth was having a birthday slumber party. And I was one of the five guys invited.
This catapulted my social standing in the class. All year long we had slumber parties, and I got invited to each one. Unfortunately, I peaked socially in fifth grade--it was all down hill from there until college!
If the Christian story is true, then a Relationship is at the center of the universe: Father, Son, Holy Spirit.
And if the Christian story is true, we are made in God's image, and therefore we are innately relational beings.
And if the Christian story is true, then what's gone wrong with the world is broken relationships: first with God, then with one another (between individuals, in families, between people-groups or nations, between the genders), then with the earth, and then with how we relate to things or work (think of the dad who loves his car or his investments more than his kids).
The Christian story calls those broken relationships sin.
So if a Relationship is at the center of the universe and broken relationships are what is wrong with the world, then one of the most explosive relational dynamics at our disposal is the power of invitation.
Invitation is an innately relational thing. To invite someone into a relationship with you is one of the most significant gifts you can give anyone. To invite someone to relate rightly to their world, their parents, to their GPA, to their car or kids, to their money, and especially to their Creator is at the heart of making broken things right in this world.
And of course, invitation to do the wrong thing has power to further complicate and destroy the creation.
Many of you have deep and lasting regrets because you took someone or something up on an invitation to do or try or relate in a way that was destructive, foolish, or just turned out poorly. You slept with that person. You tried that business venture. You took on that project that sucked all your time and energy away from other things.
If we are innately relational beings, and broken relationships are what's wrong with the world, then the power we have for good or ill in invitation is one of the most overlooked relational dynamics in the world.
I think Jesus understood the power and importance of invitation. I think this is why he starts his ministry with a powerful and essential invitation: "Come, follow me."
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Kroger, James, and the Four-Year-Old Boy
Tonight as I pulled up into the check-out at my local Kroger, cart full to the brim with a week's worth of groceries, there was a mid-20-year old African-American woman with her four-ish year old boy talking with the African-American mid-twenties cashier.
They apparently knew one another, or at least knew the same pool of people. Their conversation about the boy's father turned to the men that they knew in common who were in jail. Or rather, who were not in jail. They could count them: two. They could list two men that they knew from this pool of people who were not locked up.
I don't really know anyone who's locked up. It's sort of tempting to make that into some sort of joke. But tonight I felt how different my experience of the world is from many people's--the raw-ness of it.
That little boy was about Davis' age. What are the chances that he'll also end up in jail? All kinds of odds are stacked against him that are not stacked against my little guy.
It made me think about the Scripture we're studying in our church small group: James 2, the admonition to care for widows and orphans...the people who were powerless and marginalized in that society.
Do I have any idea how to help my church community live out the gospel in such a way that it makes contact with that little boy and his mother? Does our resource-rich little church plant have any way of making our way to the widows and orphans, the poor that James tells us God has chosen to give the kingdom to?
Would these folks be welcomed in our Sunday morning worship service? Would they "get" what was happening with all the readings and responses and the formality of robes and processions and the like?
All questions that the book of James forces me to ask. Not sure that I like the answers very much...
They apparently knew one another, or at least knew the same pool of people. Their conversation about the boy's father turned to the men that they knew in common who were in jail. Or rather, who were not in jail. They could count them: two. They could list two men that they knew from this pool of people who were not locked up.
I don't really know anyone who's locked up. It's sort of tempting to make that into some sort of joke. But tonight I felt how different my experience of the world is from many people's--the raw-ness of it.
That little boy was about Davis' age. What are the chances that he'll also end up in jail? All kinds of odds are stacked against him that are not stacked against my little guy.
It made me think about the Scripture we're studying in our church small group: James 2, the admonition to care for widows and orphans...the people who were powerless and marginalized in that society.
Do I have any idea how to help my church community live out the gospel in such a way that it makes contact with that little boy and his mother? Does our resource-rich little church plant have any way of making our way to the widows and orphans, the poor that James tells us God has chosen to give the kingdom to?
Would these folks be welcomed in our Sunday morning worship service? Would they "get" what was happening with all the readings and responses and the formality of robes and processions and the like?
All questions that the book of James forces me to ask. Not sure that I like the answers very much...
Friday, November 21, 2008
Identity Bonus Track: Considering Social Networking
So I didn't talk about this at Chapter Retreat, but the issue of Facebook and blogging and the like and how that affects our understanding of our identity has had me thinking over the past several days.
Let me first off say that I obviously think that social networking sites have benefits. I hope that all six of my ardent followers are encouraged by my blog posts. As I'm winding down into sabbatical, I'm glad to keep up with folks, especially my students, via Facebook.
But at the same time, the dangers of Facebook and blogging and the even more questionable benefits of the creation of avatars for stuff like Second Life is fairly significant.
There is something innately good about my inability to be the person that I want to be in my own strength. There is something to the jarring dissonance between the voices in my head that demand perpetually perfect performance and the reality that I cannot deliver such a thing that creates a holy dissatisfaction. When I am discontent with my life lived on my own strength, it presses me to continually seek for something deeper, more real to live my life for.
What social networking sites like Facebook allow you to do, however, is to spin a "you" that begins to actually live out the unhealthy demands in your head. You can image-manage yourself to be who you wish you really were...or who you think other people wish you were. It is much easier to lie to yourself and to other people that you are much more than you actually are. The holy dissatisfaction with life lived on your own is easier to numb.
So while I hope to continue to regale all six of you with my wit and wisdom, I also want to be aware of the innate dangers of trying to present myself as something that I'm not. Or as someone that I might want to be, but would be fatally destructive to my soul were I to actually attain it.
The original temptation in the Garden of Eden was that humans might be like God. This, it seems, is our perpetual temptation, especially as it pertains to our own sense of who we are, our identity.
We all long for second life, a new name. Most of us seek it in all the wrong places, try to conjure it up on our own. Jesus offers it to us, full of mercy and grace and truth. Let us press on to know and trust in Him, to follow Him. He loves us and he knows the way. Really.
Let me first off say that I obviously think that social networking sites have benefits. I hope that all six of my ardent followers are encouraged by my blog posts. As I'm winding down into sabbatical, I'm glad to keep up with folks, especially my students, via Facebook.
But at the same time, the dangers of Facebook and blogging and the even more questionable benefits of the creation of avatars for stuff like Second Life is fairly significant.
There is something innately good about my inability to be the person that I want to be in my own strength. There is something to the jarring dissonance between the voices in my head that demand perpetually perfect performance and the reality that I cannot deliver such a thing that creates a holy dissatisfaction. When I am discontent with my life lived on my own strength, it presses me to continually seek for something deeper, more real to live my life for.
What social networking sites like Facebook allow you to do, however, is to spin a "you" that begins to actually live out the unhealthy demands in your head. You can image-manage yourself to be who you wish you really were...or who you think other people wish you were. It is much easier to lie to yourself and to other people that you are much more than you actually are. The holy dissatisfaction with life lived on your own is easier to numb.
So while I hope to continue to regale all six of you with my wit and wisdom, I also want to be aware of the innate dangers of trying to present myself as something that I'm not. Or as someone that I might want to be, but would be fatally destructive to my soul were I to actually attain it.
The original temptation in the Garden of Eden was that humans might be like God. This, it seems, is our perpetual temptation, especially as it pertains to our own sense of who we are, our identity.
We all long for second life, a new name. Most of us seek it in all the wrong places, try to conjure it up on our own. Jesus offers it to us, full of mercy and grace and truth. Let us press on to know and trust in Him, to follow Him. He loves us and he knows the way. Really.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Catalyst #8: A Multi-Lingual Theology
Catalyst #8: That all our theology is language-based, which is shaped by culture. Can any one language or culture tell the whole story of God? Emergents by and large plead for a multi-lingual approach to telling God's story, which fits with their earlier influences of pluralism and mulit-culturalism.
Huzzah!
This is a great, great stride in western Christendom...and one that will eventually yield much fruit in terms of a fuller, richer understanding of God and the work of Christ.
The Danger
The danger here is a reverse discrimination against the rich heritage and legacy of God's work throughout the centuries in the west. In other words, as we're embracing a more global understanding of God's kingdom and entering into a richer dialogue, let's not chuck a couple thousand years of God's work in Europe and America.
The Verdict
This is good for evangelicalism in particular, as we figure out how to engage a multi-ethnic, pluralistic world. We've got to have a Christ-centered, multi-lingual gospel.
Thus endeth the posts on the Emergent Church...and the pressing issues that I see in my students all the time!
Huzzah!
This is a great, great stride in western Christendom...and one that will eventually yield much fruit in terms of a fuller, richer understanding of God and the work of Christ.
The Danger
The danger here is a reverse discrimination against the rich heritage and legacy of God's work throughout the centuries in the west. In other words, as we're embracing a more global understanding of God's kingdom and entering into a richer dialogue, let's not chuck a couple thousand years of God's work in Europe and America.
The Verdict
This is good for evangelicalism in particular, as we figure out how to engage a multi-ethnic, pluralistic world. We've got to have a Christ-centered, multi-lingual gospel.
Thus endeth the posts on the Emergent Church...and the pressing issues that I see in my students all the time!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Catalyst #7: Homosexuality
Catalyst #7: Homosexuality. They are convinced that sexuality is complicated, are committed to having relationships with all types of people, and live in a tension with the Bible about what to do about this issue.
Huzzah!
Hooray for a more thoughtful, nuanced, and well-informed engagement with this issue...and for genuine relationships that help us to push past caricatures to engaging with real people.
The Danger
A couple of years ago I had an epic conversation with a number of people over this issue. If you missed it, click here. Scroll down to the post starting on Oct. 5, 2006 and read through the comments and then some of the posts afterwards.
My bro also had a really good post (and a long string of dialogue) over on his blog a couple weeks ago.
The Verdict
I think that the homosexuality issue and the "do all religions lead to God" issue will be the two most fracturing questions in all of Christendom over the next fifty years.
The acceptance of homosexuality and homosexual marriage will move more and more front-and-center in our culture--it is already starting to eclipse the abortion issue as the boundary-line of conservative v. liberal politics. If we're going to hold to historically orthodox thinking on the purpose of sexuality, gender, image-bearing and marriage, we better have clear and solid thinking. And then we need clear and solid pastoral answers to the inevitable questions that will come.
Huzzah!
Hooray for a more thoughtful, nuanced, and well-informed engagement with this issue...and for genuine relationships that help us to push past caricatures to engaging with real people.
The Danger
A couple of years ago I had an epic conversation with a number of people over this issue. If you missed it, click here. Scroll down to the post starting on Oct. 5, 2006 and read through the comments and then some of the posts afterwards.
My bro also had a really good post (and a long string of dialogue) over on his blog a couple weeks ago.
The Verdict
I think that the homosexuality issue and the "do all religions lead to God" issue will be the two most fracturing questions in all of Christendom over the next fifty years.
The acceptance of homosexuality and homosexual marriage will move more and more front-and-center in our culture--it is already starting to eclipse the abortion issue as the boundary-line of conservative v. liberal politics. If we're going to hold to historically orthodox thinking on the purpose of sexuality, gender, image-bearing and marriage, we better have clear and solid thinking. And then we need clear and solid pastoral answers to the inevitable questions that will come.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Catalyst #6: Scripture and a Loving God
Catalyst #6: For some the Bible has portrayals of God that does not square with their understanding of God as loving. So often they will mythologize or allegorize some portrayals of God (often in the OT) and say that later pictures are the real thing--i.e. Jesus as the perfect picture of the God who is altogether gracious and loving.
Huzzah!
Hmmm...well, I agree with the "Jesus as the perfect picture of God" part...
The Danger
The danger here is that we are always tempted to make God into our own image. My systematic theology professor called it "going around the circle the wrong way."
Here's how this works: we start our engagement with God with us. We come with our own ideas of what a loving/just/perfect/righteous God "should" look like. We then encounter the God of the Bible and are shocked that somehow God doesn't look like *we* think he should. Who knew that my opinion would not be the perfect arbiter of what a perfect God is?
So we have a decision to make. We can reject this God. We can try to figure out a way around the description of this God. Or we can have our very definitions of what a loving, just, perfect, righteous God looks like re-defined by this God.
My professor exhorted us to think around the circle the other way. We do what we can to come to the God of the Scriptures ready to have that picture and that God inform our understanding of what a just/loving/perfect/merciful God is, rather than with our own agenda of what that God should look like.
This is Christianity, not Unitarianism. You don't get to get a ball of Play-Dough and decide what shape God is. God is mercy and love and justice, and his character and actions are what define what those words mean. There is no such thing as mercy and justice and love as disembodied, ethereal ideas. Love and justice and mercy are found alive and active and perfectly at work in God--yes, fully in Christ but it's the same God at work throughout the Scriptures.
Are we, then, the perfect evaluators of what true love, what true mercy, what true justice, what true judgment and righteousness and redemption are all about? Aren't all our definitions shaped by our own experiences, the cultures we live in, the whims of the times we happen to inhabit and how our digestive tract happens to be responding to the food we just ate a couple of hours ago?
The Verdict
Depending on the severity and the direction of this line of thinking, it's simply a re-mixed version of an old heresy: the Old Testament God is different from the New Testament God.
Post-modernity as a cultural movement is simply an over-reaction of the heart to the previous over-reaction of the head of modernity. In short, post-modernity tends to encourage us to think with our hearts. That's not always bad. But this is a good example of where it can go wrong.
Again, I'm not trying to say that there aren't hard things in the Scriptures that sometimes don't make sense. I'm not trying to flatten out a complex issue--there is some funky stuff in the OT especially that I sometimes just sit before and I say to God, "why?"
But I think that to iron out those tensions by simply writing them off conveniently as allegory or not "really" telling us what God is like at all is to miss the point. It gets us off the hook too easily. I think we're supposed to live in that tension, not erase it by pulling a Thomas Jefferson and whiting-out the passages we don't like.
Huzzah!
Hmmm...well, I agree with the "Jesus as the perfect picture of God" part...
The Danger
The danger here is that we are always tempted to make God into our own image. My systematic theology professor called it "going around the circle the wrong way."
Here's how this works: we start our engagement with God with us. We come with our own ideas of what a loving/just/perfect/righteous God "should" look like. We then encounter the God of the Bible and are shocked that somehow God doesn't look like *we* think he should. Who knew that my opinion would not be the perfect arbiter of what a perfect God is?
So we have a decision to make. We can reject this God. We can try to figure out a way around the description of this God. Or we can have our very definitions of what a loving, just, perfect, righteous God looks like re-defined by this God.
My professor exhorted us to think around the circle the other way. We do what we can to come to the God of the Scriptures ready to have that picture and that God inform our understanding of what a just/loving/perfect/merciful God is, rather than with our own agenda of what that God should look like.
This is Christianity, not Unitarianism. You don't get to get a ball of Play-Dough and decide what shape God is. God is mercy and love and justice, and his character and actions are what define what those words mean. There is no such thing as mercy and justice and love as disembodied, ethereal ideas. Love and justice and mercy are found alive and active and perfectly at work in God--yes, fully in Christ but it's the same God at work throughout the Scriptures.
Are we, then, the perfect evaluators of what true love, what true mercy, what true justice, what true judgment and righteousness and redemption are all about? Aren't all our definitions shaped by our own experiences, the cultures we live in, the whims of the times we happen to inhabit and how our digestive tract happens to be responding to the food we just ate a couple of hours ago?
The Verdict
Depending on the severity and the direction of this line of thinking, it's simply a re-mixed version of an old heresy: the Old Testament God is different from the New Testament God.
Post-modernity as a cultural movement is simply an over-reaction of the heart to the previous over-reaction of the head of modernity. In short, post-modernity tends to encourage us to think with our hearts. That's not always bad. But this is a good example of where it can go wrong.
Again, I'm not trying to say that there aren't hard things in the Scriptures that sometimes don't make sense. I'm not trying to flatten out a complex issue--there is some funky stuff in the OT especially that I sometimes just sit before and I say to God, "why?"
But I think that to iron out those tensions by simply writing them off conveniently as allegory or not "really" telling us what God is like at all is to miss the point. It gets us off the hook too easily. I think we're supposed to live in that tension, not erase it by pulling a Thomas Jefferson and whiting-out the passages we don't like.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Catalyst #5: Pluralism
Catalyst #5: The public schools message of multi-culturalism and pluralism conflicted with their church's teachings that those outside of Christ were doomed. "Possessing both a faith that is particular and an intimate knowledge of religious pluralism prodcued a tension that was nearly intolerable." This leads them to a religious pluralism or a much broader interpretation of what it means to be "a Christian."
Huzzah!
The need for Christians to engage with a genuinely pluralistic world with compassion and dialogue and winsomeness is well past.
The Dangers
Oi. This could take a couple of posts. Let me see if I can pitch my case against capitulating to a "all religions (or maybe just most religions) lead to God," even if that feels better.
#1. Most 21st century westerners smugly assume that we're living in the first pluralistic culture, or at least that the first century AD was a fairly and charmingly sweet and simple time. This is patently false. A quick glance through the book of Acts shows a veritable plethora of engagement with all kinds of religious practices: centuries-old religions alongside magic and sorcery alongside sophisticated philosophies.
In every case, in every cross-cultural and cross-religious engagement, the new Christians were adamant: what had happened in the death and resurrection of Christ was a new and final and decisive God-event that had ramifications for all peoples, everywhere.
The early disciples absolutely did not celebrate the religious diversity that they encountered. They were sickened and saddened by it. And they countered it at every turn with the news of the God who had come to live and die and conquer the grave for them.
It was this essential, urgent message that compelled the early Christians through the first centuries to death at the hands of lions and paranoid emperors and dungeons and swords and famines.
#2. If all roads lead to God, then the Christian story makes no sense. If Jesus comes and hijacks a perfectly fine Jewish religious system that leads people to God anyway, why bother? Why not just leave the Jewish people alone if Judaism will lead them to God anyway?
If any and every (or at least most) religions lead to God without all the blood and sweat of Gethsemane and the horror of the cross, what's the point? Is all that just a charade, a giant show, a sham? It would seem that it's not only a nice thing that God comes and dies for our sins. It would seem that if there's any other way, that cup might have passed...in fact, the entire incarnation might have passed.
Here's where the weak understanding of the cross that we discussed in an earlier post really hurts the Emergent movement.
#3. In fact, Jesus is perpetually correcting both Jews and Gentiles. He tells the woman at the well in John 4 that the Samaritans don't know who or what they worship. They're wrong. And a time is coming when they will finally get a chance to get it right. And it's come because of him. That's the point.
#4. Who decides which religions lead to God? The KKK thought of themselves as a religion, do they get to God? What about people flying planes into towers? Clearly most of us think that some religions or at least some religious people don't get there.
So given that almost everyone believes that not everyone seems to know a God who is good and loving, even if they're religious in some sense, we're back to what Christians throughout the centuries have argued throughout the centuries. Not every religion leads to God. In the final analysis, most of us are just discussing which religions lead to God. Christians just argue that what God did in Christ is unique.
Throughout the centuries most of the major religions have held that there are significant, eternal consequences to the decisions we make regarding God. Of course, this has led us to do many stupid things on all sides. We do not have to kill each other to believe deeply that there are eternal consequences to our decisions.
The Verdict
This is more or less all bad. And if this continues to be a central plank of the Emergent church, it'll probably go the way of the mainline churches, which are dying by the boatloads as baby-boomers start to die. Nothing is at stake, so there's no fresh re-engagement with culture as it shifts.
This issue is a huge stumbling block for many, many people. I'm not saying it's easy. I'm just saying that it takes a good bit of mental and theological gymnastics to adhere to historically orthodox Christianity and say that it doesn't really matter what you believe.
For a fantastic, thoughtful, not-angry but very thorough discussion of this stuff, check out The Gospel in a Pluralist Society by Lesslie Newbiggin. When I'm swimming in the fog of this question and asking the hard, heart questions of how this can possibly be good news, I re-read some Newbiggin and he helps me to re-find my bearings
Huzzah!
The need for Christians to engage with a genuinely pluralistic world with compassion and dialogue and winsomeness is well past.
The Dangers
Oi. This could take a couple of posts. Let me see if I can pitch my case against capitulating to a "all religions (or maybe just most religions) lead to God," even if that feels better.
#1. Most 21st century westerners smugly assume that we're living in the first pluralistic culture, or at least that the first century AD was a fairly and charmingly sweet and simple time. This is patently false. A quick glance through the book of Acts shows a veritable plethora of engagement with all kinds of religious practices: centuries-old religions alongside magic and sorcery alongside sophisticated philosophies.
In every case, in every cross-cultural and cross-religious engagement, the new Christians were adamant: what had happened in the death and resurrection of Christ was a new and final and decisive God-event that had ramifications for all peoples, everywhere.
The early disciples absolutely did not celebrate the religious diversity that they encountered. They were sickened and saddened by it. And they countered it at every turn with the news of the God who had come to live and die and conquer the grave for them.
It was this essential, urgent message that compelled the early Christians through the first centuries to death at the hands of lions and paranoid emperors and dungeons and swords and famines.
#2. If all roads lead to God, then the Christian story makes no sense. If Jesus comes and hijacks a perfectly fine Jewish religious system that leads people to God anyway, why bother? Why not just leave the Jewish people alone if Judaism will lead them to God anyway?
If any and every (or at least most) religions lead to God without all the blood and sweat of Gethsemane and the horror of the cross, what's the point? Is all that just a charade, a giant show, a sham? It would seem that it's not only a nice thing that God comes and dies for our sins. It would seem that if there's any other way, that cup might have passed...in fact, the entire incarnation might have passed.
Here's where the weak understanding of the cross that we discussed in an earlier post really hurts the Emergent movement.
#3. In fact, Jesus is perpetually correcting both Jews and Gentiles. He tells the woman at the well in John 4 that the Samaritans don't know who or what they worship. They're wrong. And a time is coming when they will finally get a chance to get it right. And it's come because of him. That's the point.
#4. Who decides which religions lead to God? The KKK thought of themselves as a religion, do they get to God? What about people flying planes into towers? Clearly most of us think that some religions or at least some religious people don't get there.
So given that almost everyone believes that not everyone seems to know a God who is good and loving, even if they're religious in some sense, we're back to what Christians throughout the centuries have argued throughout the centuries. Not every religion leads to God. In the final analysis, most of us are just discussing which religions lead to God. Christians just argue that what God did in Christ is unique.
Throughout the centuries most of the major religions have held that there are significant, eternal consequences to the decisions we make regarding God. Of course, this has led us to do many stupid things on all sides. We do not have to kill each other to believe deeply that there are eternal consequences to our decisions.
The Verdict
This is more or less all bad. And if this continues to be a central plank of the Emergent church, it'll probably go the way of the mainline churches, which are dying by the boatloads as baby-boomers start to die. Nothing is at stake, so there's no fresh re-engagement with culture as it shifts.
This issue is a huge stumbling block for many, many people. I'm not saying it's easy. I'm just saying that it takes a good bit of mental and theological gymnastics to adhere to historically orthodox Christianity and say that it doesn't really matter what you believe.
For a fantastic, thoughtful, not-angry but very thorough discussion of this stuff, check out The Gospel in a Pluralist Society by Lesslie Newbiggin. When I'm swimming in the fog of this question and asking the hard, heart questions of how this can possibly be good news, I re-read some Newbiggin and he helps me to re-find my bearings
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Catalyst #4: Church Failure
Catalyst #4: Emergents grew up in a time of serious public failings of evangelical leaders (Ted Swaggart and Jim Baker). This amplifies the feelings of cynicism towards the church as a viable institution...and creates the felt need to start over with greater authenticity.
Huzzah!
Yay for a commitment to greater authenticity and integrity within the church. This is clearly not only a problem for people who grew up in the church but also for people who look at the church from the outside.
The Danger
The dangers here are the same as with any new start-up that's attempting to break away or re-form something that they see as antiquated or no longer functioning: it becomes self-righteous (everyone else is doing it wrong and we've got it right) or more reactive (this is what we're NOT) rather than pro-active (this is who we are and what we're doing).
There's also the temptation/desire to make the break so badly that you chuck stuff that's good. This certainly happened to some extent in the Protestant Reformation. It's certainly happening some here in the Emergent church as well, at least in some parts of it.
I also find in my situation that bashing on the church (both to Christians and non-Christians) garners cheap trust. Hey, I'm cool, I think that the church by-and-large is a really screwed up institution that can't be trusted and is pretty much a disaster top to bottom. So we're all on the same side! Most all of my students are cynical towards the church.
So the danger here is that we feed into cynicism (which is a sin) rather than do faithful re-hab that genuinely acknowledges the brokenness of the church and also the beautiful and glorious stuff about the church throughout the centuries: schools built, drinking water purified, hospitals and orphanages and disaster teams. It's not all bad. In other words, we need to be honest about the church as it truly is--and still love it. Christ does.
The Verdict
I think that there's some good stuff here...just depends on how it all plays out in the individual church and in the individual lives.
Huzzah!
Yay for a commitment to greater authenticity and integrity within the church. This is clearly not only a problem for people who grew up in the church but also for people who look at the church from the outside.
The Danger
The dangers here are the same as with any new start-up that's attempting to break away or re-form something that they see as antiquated or no longer functioning: it becomes self-righteous (everyone else is doing it wrong and we've got it right) or more reactive (this is what we're NOT) rather than pro-active (this is who we are and what we're doing).
There's also the temptation/desire to make the break so badly that you chuck stuff that's good. This certainly happened to some extent in the Protestant Reformation. It's certainly happening some here in the Emergent church as well, at least in some parts of it.
I also find in my situation that bashing on the church (both to Christians and non-Christians) garners cheap trust. Hey, I'm cool, I think that the church by-and-large is a really screwed up institution that can't be trusted and is pretty much a disaster top to bottom. So we're all on the same side! Most all of my students are cynical towards the church.
So the danger here is that we feed into cynicism (which is a sin) rather than do faithful re-hab that genuinely acknowledges the brokenness of the church and also the beautiful and glorious stuff about the church throughout the centuries: schools built, drinking water purified, hospitals and orphanages and disaster teams. It's not all bad. In other words, we need to be honest about the church as it truly is--and still love it. Christ does.
The Verdict
I think that there's some good stuff here...just depends on how it all plays out in the individual church and in the individual lives.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Back to the Original Program
Catalyst #3: Their educational history and experiences have led emergents to disown the idea that when science and the Bible contradict that science must step aside. They refuse to give the Bible the "trump card." They remain committed to it, but with a different view as to what it actually is and how it works as a piece of literature to describe the workings of the cosmos. They are both left and right wing, committed to the Bible and open to new ideas.
Huzzah!
I believe that this is primarily aimed at the relatively small percentage of evangelicals who hold to a very strict reading of the creation account in the first few chapters of Genesis. Not being one of those myself, and in fact often feeling embarrassed on their behalf, I find this move good.
The Danger
Some of the dangers here are the same as in the earlier posts discussion about moving beyond "Scriptural inerrancy."
But a specific issue to consider in this case has to do with the relationship between science and faith. Forgive me for again going to C.S. Lewis, but he's good here..as he is with so many things!
Lewis argues that we should neither be too quick to proclaim victory when "the sciences" (everything from physics to biology to even archeology) seem to agree with a Biblical account or portrayal of the world. Nor should we be too intimidated when the sciences reach conclusions that appear dismissive of the Christian understanding of the world.
To borrow a phrase from a column I recently read, the general public squints at the world of "science" and considers it to be uniform mass of well-educated, white-coated people who with one voice reach firm conclusions about "the world of facts" and "how things are" that leaves no room for doubt or discussion.
In reality there is a very small slice of the body of scientific knowledge where this is true. The rest of it ebbs and flows like fall and spring fashions. Read journals from fifty years ago and you'll find any number of discoveries that appeared to be certain at the time that have since been disproved or nuanced or corrected or completely overhauled.
The Verdict
So if we're not going to give the Scriptures a literalists "trump card," let us also be slow to turn and give the world of the sciences that same card. And let us walk in humility and wisdom, winsomeness and thoughtfulness as we interact with the ancient wisdom of the Scriptures and twenty-first century understandings of how the world works.
Huzzah!
I believe that this is primarily aimed at the relatively small percentage of evangelicals who hold to a very strict reading of the creation account in the first few chapters of Genesis. Not being one of those myself, and in fact often feeling embarrassed on their behalf, I find this move good.
The Danger
Some of the dangers here are the same as in the earlier posts discussion about moving beyond "Scriptural inerrancy."
But a specific issue to consider in this case has to do with the relationship between science and faith. Forgive me for again going to C.S. Lewis, but he's good here..as he is with so many things!
Lewis argues that we should neither be too quick to proclaim victory when "the sciences" (everything from physics to biology to even archeology) seem to agree with a Biblical account or portrayal of the world. Nor should we be too intimidated when the sciences reach conclusions that appear dismissive of the Christian understanding of the world.
To borrow a phrase from a column I recently read, the general public squints at the world of "science" and considers it to be uniform mass of well-educated, white-coated people who with one voice reach firm conclusions about "the world of facts" and "how things are" that leaves no room for doubt or discussion.
In reality there is a very small slice of the body of scientific knowledge where this is true. The rest of it ebbs and flows like fall and spring fashions. Read journals from fifty years ago and you'll find any number of discoveries that appeared to be certain at the time that have since been disproved or nuanced or corrected or completely overhauled.
The Verdict
So if we're not going to give the Scriptures a literalists "trump card," let us also be slow to turn and give the world of the sciences that same card. And let us walk in humility and wisdom, winsomeness and thoughtfulness as we interact with the ancient wisdom of the Scriptures and twenty-first century understandings of how the world works.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Catalyst #2: What Jesus Taught
Catalyst #2: The gospel that emergents heard as children they believe is a caricature of Paul's teaching--Brian McLaren (often seen as the poster-child for the movement) calls it "Paulianity." The re-discovery of Jesus' teaching about the kingdom and the poor and life changing here and now (not just salvation when you die) creates a tension--if this is what Jesus talked about, why don't we talk about it, too? Why aren't we preaching Jesus' message? This message is often more political and social and global in its' scope.
Huzzah!
Taking Jesus' life and his teaching seriously is a very, very good thing.
This past week I read something from John Piper, a leader and pace-setter in many corners of evangelicalism--and someone who was very influential in my own life earlier in my ministry.
He was talking about his new sermon series starting this fall through the gospel of John. One of the reasons why he's excited? He's never preached through a gospel before. This is a man who's been preaching for several decades. He always preaches straight through books of Scripture. He's never once had his people sit in the life and teachings of Jesus. He's never once preached through a gospel.
It's just one story, but I think it's indicative of how many baby-boomer generation Christians approached the Scriptures...and it's exactly this type of thing that Emergents are pushing back against. Without looking at what Jesus preached, how can we be preaching the whole gospel?
The victory here is that the Emergents are calling the evangelical church to take seriously this world and issues that matter here and now, including systemic evils, poverty, racism, etc.
The Danger
But boo! to repeating an old mistake made last century! In the early 20th century, the liberal church liked Jesus' social gospel message and made that the whole of their preaching. The more conservative churches were wary of the social gospel and made their priority "winning souls."
We've already been down this weary road of a false bifurcation between Jesus and Paul. The Emergents are simply over-reacting to a previous over-reaction in evangelicalism.
And their Jesus, inasmuch as I can see, is a very truncated one. No one talks more about hell than Jesus does--issues of eternity matter to Jesus. Jesus never once says the word "grace" in all four gospels. Everything we know about grace comes from the rest of the New Testament that unpacks the work and life of Christ in extremely important ways that cannot be ignored--especially the meaning and purpose of Christ's death and resurrection.
And here, as Scot McKnight points out in his article, is a very weak spot in the thinking of Emergent thought. The cross and the resurrection have a very small role to play beyond a model or an example. Again, we've been down this road before.
As N.T. Wright points out, throughout the Scriptures God acts and then his people interpret his activity: the crossing of the Red Sea, crossing the Jordan River, the death and resurrection of Christ, all require Spirit-led people to interpret and apply meaning and purpose. This is the point of the rest of the New Testament--and why it matters that we read past the gospel of John into the rest of the Scriptures.
C.S. Lewis argued that all the hardest and most overwhelming things that are said in the Bible come from Jesus' mouth. Many of the most comforting and relieving things said come from his interpreters. It is a false, flat caricature of Jesus to make him warm-fuzzy, social-justice only guy.
The Verdict
I am glad for people in and around the evangelical movement calling us to take Jesus seriously. I am less excited about the negation of the rest of the New Testament in doing so. There is no need to choose between these two.
We can have both Jesus' teachings on "the kingdom" which shapes our understanding of what life under Christ's rule is to look like AND the writing of the rest of the New Testament that helps us to understand the purpose and meaning behind the death and resurrection of Christ.
In fact, author Dallas Willard is an evangelical giant who has spent much of the last twenty years doing just that. For folks who would like to see a more fully "whole" gospel worked out, I'd highly recommend his book Divine Conspiracy.
Huzzah!
Taking Jesus' life and his teaching seriously is a very, very good thing.
This past week I read something from John Piper, a leader and pace-setter in many corners of evangelicalism--and someone who was very influential in my own life earlier in my ministry.
He was talking about his new sermon series starting this fall through the gospel of John. One of the reasons why he's excited? He's never preached through a gospel before. This is a man who's been preaching for several decades. He always preaches straight through books of Scripture. He's never once had his people sit in the life and teachings of Jesus. He's never once preached through a gospel.
It's just one story, but I think it's indicative of how many baby-boomer generation Christians approached the Scriptures...and it's exactly this type of thing that Emergents are pushing back against. Without looking at what Jesus preached, how can we be preaching the whole gospel?
The victory here is that the Emergents are calling the evangelical church to take seriously this world and issues that matter here and now, including systemic evils, poverty, racism, etc.
The Danger
But boo! to repeating an old mistake made last century! In the early 20th century, the liberal church liked Jesus' social gospel message and made that the whole of their preaching. The more conservative churches were wary of the social gospel and made their priority "winning souls."
We've already been down this weary road of a false bifurcation between Jesus and Paul. The Emergents are simply over-reacting to a previous over-reaction in evangelicalism.
And their Jesus, inasmuch as I can see, is a very truncated one. No one talks more about hell than Jesus does--issues of eternity matter to Jesus. Jesus never once says the word "grace" in all four gospels. Everything we know about grace comes from the rest of the New Testament that unpacks the work and life of Christ in extremely important ways that cannot be ignored--especially the meaning and purpose of Christ's death and resurrection.
And here, as Scot McKnight points out in his article, is a very weak spot in the thinking of Emergent thought. The cross and the resurrection have a very small role to play beyond a model or an example. Again, we've been down this road before.
As N.T. Wright points out, throughout the Scriptures God acts and then his people interpret his activity: the crossing of the Red Sea, crossing the Jordan River, the death and resurrection of Christ, all require Spirit-led people to interpret and apply meaning and purpose. This is the point of the rest of the New Testament--and why it matters that we read past the gospel of John into the rest of the Scriptures.
C.S. Lewis argued that all the hardest and most overwhelming things that are said in the Bible come from Jesus' mouth. Many of the most comforting and relieving things said come from his interpreters. It is a false, flat caricature of Jesus to make him warm-fuzzy, social-justice only guy.
The Verdict
I am glad for people in and around the evangelical movement calling us to take Jesus seriously. I am less excited about the negation of the rest of the New Testament in doing so. There is no need to choose between these two.
We can have both Jesus' teachings on "the kingdom" which shapes our understanding of what life under Christ's rule is to look like AND the writing of the rest of the New Testament that helps us to understand the purpose and meaning behind the death and resurrection of Christ.
In fact, author Dallas Willard is an evangelical giant who has spent much of the last twenty years doing just that. For folks who would like to see a more fully "whole" gospel worked out, I'd highly recommend his book Divine Conspiracy.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
8 Catalysts
This month, author/theologian/blogger Scot McKnight has an excellent piece on the Emergent Church in Christianity Today. The article is talking about what has shaped what is often called the "post-evangelical" movement. These are Gen X-ers and Y-ers who have evangelical Christian roots but who have made decidedly different choices in how to live out the faith while still claiming an essential loyalty to following Jesus.
McKnight breaks down eight catalysts that have shaped this movement and the people who are leading it. These eight catalysts have pushed the emergent movement to re-think how they were brought up and how they were taught to think about Jesus.
I want to sum up McKnight's points here today and then briefly take on a couple of them over the next several days: the good, the bad, the ugly. I think the catalysts that McKnight briefly explains in the article are exactly the issues that my students face and the conversations that I have all the time.
For those of you who are students, I hope that this might help inform your journey. For those of you who aren't, my guess is that you'll find some of your own struggles/questions/faith challenges here as well. And I hope that this might help you prepare for my students who are coming your way.
McKnight talks about these eight catalysts as challenges that have forced many evangelicals to either radically re-think the faith that they received or abandon it altogether. This is, indeed, what I see going on around me.
Without futher ado, here are McKnight's Eight Catalysts for the "ironic" faith of the Emergent Church:
1. The word "inerrancy" as it pertains to the Bible is "the wrong word at the wrong time, though it might have been the right word for a previous generation.
2. The gospel that emergents heard as children they believe is a caricature of Paul's teaching--Brian McLaren (often seen as the poster-child for the movement) calls it "Paulianity." The re-discovery of Jesus' teaching about the kingdom and the poor and life changing here and now (not just salvation when you die) creates a tension--if this is what Jesus talked about, why don't we talk about it, too? Why aren't we preaching Jesus' message? This message is often more political and social and global in its' scope.
3. Their educational history and experiences have led emergents to disown the idea that when science and the Bible contradict that science must step aside. They refuse to give the Bible the "trump card." They remain committed to it, but with a different view as to what it actually is and how it works as a piece of literature to describe the workings of the cosmos. They are both left and right wing, committed to the Bible and open to new ideas.
4. Emergents grew up in a time of serious public failings of evangelical leaders (Ted Swaggart and Jim Baker). This amplifies the feelings of cynicism towards the church as a viable institution...and creates the felt need to start over with greater authenticity.
5. The public schools message of multi-culturalism and pluralism conflicted with their church's teachings that those outside of Christ were doomed. "Possessing both a faith that is particular and an intimate knowledge of religious pluralism prodcued a tension that was nearly intolerable." This leads them to a religious pluralism or a much broader interpretation of what it means to be "a Christian."
6. For some the Bible has portrayals of God that does not square with their understanding of God as loving. So often they will mythologize or allegorize some portrayals of God (often in the OT) and say that later pictures are the real thing--i.e. Jesus as the perfect picture of the God who is altogether gracious and loving.
7. Homosexuality. They are convinced that sexuality is complicated, are committed to having relationships with all types of people, and live in a tension with the Bible about what to do about this issue.
8. That all our theology is language-based, which is shaped by culture. Can any one language or culture tell the whole story of God? Emergents by and large plead for a multi-lingual approach to telling God's story, which fits with their earlier influences of pluralism and mulit-culturalism.
McKnight breaks down eight catalysts that have shaped this movement and the people who are leading it. These eight catalysts have pushed the emergent movement to re-think how they were brought up and how they were taught to think about Jesus.
I want to sum up McKnight's points here today and then briefly take on a couple of them over the next several days: the good, the bad, the ugly. I think the catalysts that McKnight briefly explains in the article are exactly the issues that my students face and the conversations that I have all the time.
For those of you who are students, I hope that this might help inform your journey. For those of you who aren't, my guess is that you'll find some of your own struggles/questions/faith challenges here as well. And I hope that this might help you prepare for my students who are coming your way.
McKnight talks about these eight catalysts as challenges that have forced many evangelicals to either radically re-think the faith that they received or abandon it altogether. This is, indeed, what I see going on around me.
Without futher ado, here are McKnight's Eight Catalysts for the "ironic" faith of the Emergent Church:
1. The word "inerrancy" as it pertains to the Bible is "the wrong word at the wrong time, though it might have been the right word for a previous generation.
2. The gospel that emergents heard as children they believe is a caricature of Paul's teaching--Brian McLaren (often seen as the poster-child for the movement) calls it "Paulianity." The re-discovery of Jesus' teaching about the kingdom and the poor and life changing here and now (not just salvation when you die) creates a tension--if this is what Jesus talked about, why don't we talk about it, too? Why aren't we preaching Jesus' message? This message is often more political and social and global in its' scope.
3. Their educational history and experiences have led emergents to disown the idea that when science and the Bible contradict that science must step aside. They refuse to give the Bible the "trump card." They remain committed to it, but with a different view as to what it actually is and how it works as a piece of literature to describe the workings of the cosmos. They are both left and right wing, committed to the Bible and open to new ideas.
4. Emergents grew up in a time of serious public failings of evangelical leaders (Ted Swaggart and Jim Baker). This amplifies the feelings of cynicism towards the church as a viable institution...and creates the felt need to start over with greater authenticity.
5. The public schools message of multi-culturalism and pluralism conflicted with their church's teachings that those outside of Christ were doomed. "Possessing both a faith that is particular and an intimate knowledge of religious pluralism prodcued a tension that was nearly intolerable." This leads them to a religious pluralism or a much broader interpretation of what it means to be "a Christian."
6. For some the Bible has portrayals of God that does not square with their understanding of God as loving. So often they will mythologize or allegorize some portrayals of God (often in the OT) and say that later pictures are the real thing--i.e. Jesus as the perfect picture of the God who is altogether gracious and loving.
7. Homosexuality. They are convinced that sexuality is complicated, are committed to having relationships with all types of people, and live in a tension with the Bible about what to do about this issue.
8. That all our theology is language-based, which is shaped by culture. Can any one language or culture tell the whole story of God? Emergents by and large plead for a multi-lingual approach to telling God's story, which fits with their earlier influences of pluralism and mulit-culturalism.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Entitlement
Last night at our large group we had a speaker named Nairy Ohani. Nairy has spent most of the past fifteen years serving as a missionary overseas in Armenia and most recently in Turkey.
She told lots of positive, warm-fuzzy stories about God's work while she was abroad. She was also honest about how hard it was to deal with things like police harassment and many years of labor without always seeing concrete results.
She summed up one of her stories profoundly: "God does not owe you anything just because you do the right thing."
Entitlement is a cultural pandemic. It is woven into the basic framework of our country: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These are not bad things. I rather enjoy life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
But spiritually, this breeds a consumerist mentality about God that is utterly repugnant. The whiny demanding-ness of our entitlement issues is uttered loud and clear when it comes to thoughts on God. Both the vaguely spiritual and the committed Christian feel that God has basically let them down on his end of the bargain...whatever that is. Remember a song from the late '90's? A band called Dog's Eye View and the song is called "Everything Falls Apart:"
I met God this afternoon ridin' on an uptown train
I said, "Don't you have better things to do?"
He said, "If I do my job what would you complain about?
Nairy's comments cut me to the quick. If I do what God wants, I feel like he owes me to come through for me exactly how I think he should. To let go of that frees me up to then receive what he actually has for me.
Why do I think that God should throw me a parade when I do the right thing? Is that really all that commendable?
She told lots of positive, warm-fuzzy stories about God's work while she was abroad. She was also honest about how hard it was to deal with things like police harassment and many years of labor without always seeing concrete results.
She summed up one of her stories profoundly: "God does not owe you anything just because you do the right thing."
Entitlement is a cultural pandemic. It is woven into the basic framework of our country: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These are not bad things. I rather enjoy life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
But spiritually, this breeds a consumerist mentality about God that is utterly repugnant. The whiny demanding-ness of our entitlement issues is uttered loud and clear when it comes to thoughts on God. Both the vaguely spiritual and the committed Christian feel that God has basically let them down on his end of the bargain...whatever that is. Remember a song from the late '90's? A band called Dog's Eye View and the song is called "Everything Falls Apart:"
I met God this afternoon ridin' on an uptown train
I said, "Don't you have better things to do?"
He said, "If I do my job what would you complain about?
Nairy's comments cut me to the quick. If I do what God wants, I feel like he owes me to come through for me exactly how I think he should. To let go of that frees me up to then receive what he actually has for me.
Why do I think that God should throw me a parade when I do the right thing? Is that really all that commendable?
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thankful to Who? For What?
So Thanksgiving was originally a bunch of religious folks thanking God for bringing them safely to "the new world." Of course, it can't stay that way today. As a culture we're more or less done with God and we're deeply conflicted about how we treated people in this "new world" once we got here.
So the question is, what do we do with this Thanksgiving thing?
I'm not sure I've got an answer for the "what" question. I think that what our ancestors did to the natives here was pretty atrocious. National repentance is really the only answer. But I don't anticipate that happening any time soon.
But the question of "thankful to who?" is one that we've got to deal with. "Thanksgiving" makes for a poor noun. It's supposed to be a verb. We're never thankful in normal life apart from someone, an object, to be thankful to.
Have you ever had someone start out complimenting you and end up complimenting themselves? Or have someone start out thanking you but end up in vague, vapid sentimentalism? I think that these are basically the only options we have for God-less thanks giving.
The sane among us know that we have much to be thankful for. But since we've taken God out of the equation, we don't have an outlet for that thanks. So thanks-giving, which is a gloriously humbling and excellent 'bringing us back down to earth' exercise whenever we do it, suddenly just becomes yet another exercise in self-aggrandizement now that God is no longer the one that we have over us to give thanks to.
Or it becomes just another chance to reflect on nice things. How very nice.
Again, I'm not real sure what the solution is. I'm not advocating for a return to some glory days of America the Christian nation (I'm not sure those ever existed). I'm simply saying that the impulse to give thanks is a right and proper one. And to take away the object of that thanks giving is to create more moral and spiritual confusion, since that's the whole point of this whole thing called life anyway.
So the question is, what do we do with this Thanksgiving thing?
I'm not sure I've got an answer for the "what" question. I think that what our ancestors did to the natives here was pretty atrocious. National repentance is really the only answer. But I don't anticipate that happening any time soon.
But the question of "thankful to who?" is one that we've got to deal with. "Thanksgiving" makes for a poor noun. It's supposed to be a verb. We're never thankful in normal life apart from someone, an object, to be thankful to.
Have you ever had someone start out complimenting you and end up complimenting themselves? Or have someone start out thanking you but end up in vague, vapid sentimentalism? I think that these are basically the only options we have for God-less thanks giving.
The sane among us know that we have much to be thankful for. But since we've taken God out of the equation, we don't have an outlet for that thanks. So thanks-giving, which is a gloriously humbling and excellent 'bringing us back down to earth' exercise whenever we do it, suddenly just becomes yet another exercise in self-aggrandizement now that God is no longer the one that we have over us to give thanks to.
Or it becomes just another chance to reflect on nice things. How very nice.
Again, I'm not real sure what the solution is. I'm not advocating for a return to some glory days of America the Christian nation (I'm not sure those ever existed). I'm simply saying that the impulse to give thanks is a right and proper one. And to take away the object of that thanks giving is to create more moral and spiritual confusion, since that's the whole point of this whole thing called life anyway.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Reduce, Reuse, Recycle: John Mayer meets Frederich Nietzche
[This week I'm giving a talk at large group entitled "If God is Father I don't want anything to do with Him!" So I've been thinking a lot about fathers, fatherhood in general, and God's Fatherhood...and so I've been thinking about this post from last February. I'm in and out of meetings all week, so this might be a slower than normal blogging week!]
A couple weeks ago we had a speaker at our large group talk about part of his Ph.D. studies where he looked at the lives of famous atheists. He said that the one thing they all had in common was that they had either extremely dysfunctional relationships with their dads or they had no relationship with their fathers whatsoever. His point: if you're going to try to share your faith with Frederich Nietzche, you better listen and know what his issues really are. Not all 'presenting objections' are actually the totality of the obstacles to someone embracing faith.
This has stuck with me over the past few weeks as I've been growing into being a father of two. God made fatherhood to function as a sign or a pointer to his true Fatherhood. Just like all marriage (Christian or not) is fundamentally designed to point to Christ's love for the church (see last month's "Sacred Marriage" and Holiness and Happiness discussion under the archives) so, too, all fatherhood, Christian or not, points to God's Fatherhood.
I see this on campus with students all the time--dysfunctional dad relationships invariably produce issues in the students that I work with in terms of trusting God, understanding unconditional love and grace and acceptance, and experiencing real freedom and joy in the safety of their relationship with God.
Of course, our relationship with our dads, functional or dysfunctional, is not the final word on our relationship with God--C.S. Lewis had a highly dysfunctional relationship with his dad and there are few that I know of who knew God's heart and mind more intimately, but it's a significant part of our development as children of a good and perfect Father.
So as the not-so-great philosopher John Mayer once sang, fathers, be good to your daughters (and sons, too, for that matter), they'll begin to understand God's love like you do.
A couple weeks ago we had a speaker at our large group talk about part of his Ph.D. studies where he looked at the lives of famous atheists. He said that the one thing they all had in common was that they had either extremely dysfunctional relationships with their dads or they had no relationship with their fathers whatsoever. His point: if you're going to try to share your faith with Frederich Nietzche, you better listen and know what his issues really are. Not all 'presenting objections' are actually the totality of the obstacles to someone embracing faith.
This has stuck with me over the past few weeks as I've been growing into being a father of two. God made fatherhood to function as a sign or a pointer to his true Fatherhood. Just like all marriage (Christian or not) is fundamentally designed to point to Christ's love for the church (see last month's "Sacred Marriage" and Holiness and Happiness discussion under the archives) so, too, all fatherhood, Christian or not, points to God's Fatherhood.
I see this on campus with students all the time--dysfunctional dad relationships invariably produce issues in the students that I work with in terms of trusting God, understanding unconditional love and grace and acceptance, and experiencing real freedom and joy in the safety of their relationship with God.
Of course, our relationship with our dads, functional or dysfunctional, is not the final word on our relationship with God--C.S. Lewis had a highly dysfunctional relationship with his dad and there are few that I know of who knew God's heart and mind more intimately, but it's a significant part of our development as children of a good and perfect Father.
So as the not-so-great philosopher John Mayer once sang, fathers, be good to your daughters (and sons, too, for that matter), they'll begin to understand God's love like you do.
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