I just tried taking a religion test but couldn't make it through to the end. The choices were lousy, limited, and cliche. I wanted to find out how suitable I am for Christianity - but they didn't say anything about what "failure to complete" might mean.
It would not have been very valid anyway since I was having to fudge too many times in choosing one of their limited possibilities. The "Christian" answer was usually obvious but many times I cringed at the characterization it inferred.
I guess one thing it does say: I'm not a Christian in terms of the test-makers' definition.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Living true in Love
Last night in our discussion we looked at the familar statement in Ephesians 4:15 commonly rendered in English translations as: "speaking the truth in love".
Naturally, we have often read the English as if the instruction is about preaching or proclaiming truth, with "love" being the way we go about telling others the truth. In other words, we need to tell others what is true, but do it lovingly. The "truth" in this reading of the verse comes down to facts, information, or doctrines. That is what we've heard this verse saying.
But the original Greek has a whole different meaning. The Greek uses a verb form for truth, in essence saying something untranslatable into English - truing in love. The Pulpit Commentary remarks that this word is hardly translatable in English - "it implies being true as well as speaking the truth and following the truth. Truth is the element in which we are to live, move, and have our being."
Rather than being about telling truth in a loving way to others, it is about us being true in love. It's why Paul then talks about the body of Christ building itself up in love - rather than truth.
The focus is not propositional truth statements told in a loving way, but love lived in a true way.
Through it all Tim brought up the concept of truing a tire, which is shaving rubber off an uneven tire until it is perfectly round again. We couldn't think of another English use of true as a verb - but this one works well.
We are to be trued in love.
Then we will be like Jesus, who is truth - not just has it or spoke it, but is truth.
Being true in love.
Naturally, we have often read the English as if the instruction is about preaching or proclaiming truth, with "love" being the way we go about telling others the truth. In other words, we need to tell others what is true, but do it lovingly. The "truth" in this reading of the verse comes down to facts, information, or doctrines. That is what we've heard this verse saying.
But the original Greek has a whole different meaning. The Greek uses a verb form for truth, in essence saying something untranslatable into English - truing in love. The Pulpit Commentary remarks that this word is hardly translatable in English - "it implies being true as well as speaking the truth and following the truth. Truth is the element in which we are to live, move, and have our being."
Rather than being about telling truth in a loving way to others, it is about us being true in love. It's why Paul then talks about the body of Christ building itself up in love - rather than truth.
The focus is not propositional truth statements told in a loving way, but love lived in a true way.
Through it all Tim brought up the concept of truing a tire, which is shaving rubber off an uneven tire until it is perfectly round again. We couldn't think of another English use of true as a verb - but this one works well.
We are to be trued in love.
Then we will be like Jesus, who is truth - not just has it or spoke it, but is truth.
Being true in love.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Holy Communion
I grew up in a Christian tradition that observed the Lord's Supper frequently, but from where I now stand, didn't do it well or with much meaning. We were doing it because we were supposed to . . . and dutifully partook and tried to think the right thoughts in order to please (appease) God. Our thinking didn't go much beyond "we were commanded to do this, so here we are."
Andrew Jones shares a bit of his dialogue with some others in a post when he says:
"so let me get this straight. after examining the last supper of Jesus and the historical accounts of the early church, you have come up with a communion service that: - excludes children, swaps a full meal for a sample, avoids any technology, forbids joy or laughter, happens in a hall with men on a stage, dispenses with conversation, has no wine whatsoever . . and you think that is more biblical? more godly?"
I have the same question - how'd we get here? How can we with a straight face claim that what we have done is anything like the early Christ-follwers? Face it . . . we can't.
However, try to make holy meal more meal-like and authenic and you'll find out how uncomfortable many would be if they were transported back to one of the early churches. Actually, I really don't want a codified observance in any format. It's not like I believe that we must make it more like the original meal. I just wonder what's the problem if we do?
Monday I was sharing a meal with a Roman Catholic brother who expressed his confidence that the Eucharist, in the western tradition, would continued to be celebrated a 1000 years from now. I don't doubt that. I actually enjoy such a solemn, content laden, personally formative, and God-is-present observance.
What I don't get is why it has to be that way. The early Christians didn't have a formal, lengthy, prescribed celebration. They also didn't have a pinch of cracker and sip of Welch's.
Don't get me wrong- I'm not favoring a mode. I am wondering why we've become committed to modes, one way or the other. Give me formal and reverential. Then give me informal and conversational. Tell me when to stand, kneel, and sit. Next, let me do whatever I want. Let's have a full meal, and then let's have a pinch and sip.
No longer being a "patternist" in my thinking, I don't believe that we must celebrate communion in the exact mode of the earliest believers, but I also do not want to become exclusivistic about any later traditions associated with this sacrament. Those modes are not sacred unless we believe some era of the historical church after the first century achieved a level of perfection not realized among the apostles and their congregants.
Andrew Jones shares a bit of his dialogue with some others in a post when he says:
"so let me get this straight. after examining the last supper of Jesus and the historical accounts of the early church, you have come up with a communion service that: - excludes children, swaps a full meal for a sample, avoids any technology, forbids joy or laughter, happens in a hall with men on a stage, dispenses with conversation, has no wine whatsoever . . and you think that is more biblical? more godly?"
I have the same question - how'd we get here? How can we with a straight face claim that what we have done is anything like the early Christ-follwers? Face it . . . we can't.
However, try to make holy meal more meal-like and authenic and you'll find out how uncomfortable many would be if they were transported back to one of the early churches. Actually, I really don't want a codified observance in any format. It's not like I believe that we must make it more like the original meal. I just wonder what's the problem if we do?
Monday I was sharing a meal with a Roman Catholic brother who expressed his confidence that the Eucharist, in the western tradition, would continued to be celebrated a 1000 years from now. I don't doubt that. I actually enjoy such a solemn, content laden, personally formative, and God-is-present observance.
What I don't get is why it has to be that way. The early Christians didn't have a formal, lengthy, prescribed celebration. They also didn't have a pinch of cracker and sip of Welch's.
Don't get me wrong- I'm not favoring a mode. I am wondering why we've become committed to modes, one way or the other. Give me formal and reverential. Then give me informal and conversational. Tell me when to stand, kneel, and sit. Next, let me do whatever I want. Let's have a full meal, and then let's have a pinch and sip.
No longer being a "patternist" in my thinking, I don't believe that we must celebrate communion in the exact mode of the earliest believers, but I also do not want to become exclusivistic about any later traditions associated with this sacrament. Those modes are not sacred unless we believe some era of the historical church after the first century achieved a level of perfection not realized among the apostles and their congregants.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Finding Direction in the Missio Dei
A God-is-Distant Beginning
For me, and some others with similar journeys, we started out with a very removed God. He worked closely with his people in "Bible times" - miracles, prophecies, inspiration, and direct guidance - but in our day had drawn back, no longer doing anything "supernatural." Fortunately, God had left us a manual, the Bible, which we were to follow carefully, mining it for clues about how to please him by doing the right things.
Obviously, though we wouldn't have said that God was an impersonal force, practically our interaction with God was very impersonal because all we had was the Bible. We lived with and by a set of documents. God was passive and an observer while we worked hard to please him according to the instructions he'd given.
A God-is-Near Discovery
Something world-changing happened when I was found by the reality of a near God, who was not only known distantly through texts, but immediately by his continued work and presence. Obviously, I didn't throw away my Bible. I did, though, need to discover how to live within the presence of God, interacting moment by moment.
Now I can change my verbs to present tense - and I am still learning how to live with God as a person. This is not easy, because besides the old view I had, there are other ideas about what it means for God to be real and active in our world, and for us to shape our lives to his reality.
A God-is-Leading-Me View
See, some would tell me that since God is living, active, and present - I can expect constant and daily guidance in everything. Walking in the Spirit means taking every matter to God and looking for divine help - answers, direction, or whatever is needed. Being a spiritual person means being in touch with God's voice, and his word is personalized to me and directs me each moment to do His Will. We learn to hear God's voice and to faithfully respond.
In it's best aspects, this view takes seriously God's involvement in our world and encourages constant reliance on Him. I am to think of God always, and trust Him for everything. That is good.
One of the possible problems with this approach is the assumption that there is personalized divine direction for everything. Will God tell me specifically which car to buy? I don't mean does he establish principles of moderation, of propriety, of extravagance, and of stewardship under which I look for how to be godly in my decision, but will God pick the Toyota over the Ford for me directly? Am I to look for a sign of God's leading when I am in the dealership?
It may sound as if I am making fun of this view, but I am not. These are real, practical questions for how I am to expect God's Presence to shape me. These are faithful questions. Do I look for specific, addressed-to-my-question answers?
An associated problem is how to know whether I am getting that direction from God, or is my "impulse" coming from somewhere else? It can become too easy to be certain that all my urgings are from God. If I adopt this approach, at least let me be hesitant with my "readings" of God's Will lest certitude close me off from God's direction which may not always come from within me. A good question is whether God's direction is regularly or only occasionally a matter of an "inner" message laid on the heart.
A God-is-at Work View
I actually like another understanding of God's immediate action and presence, and a different expectation of what it means for me to receive direction - and this is the Missio Dei, or Mission of God. This is a different starting point: God is at work with his purpose or mission, rather than God is at work guiding me. Let me try to unpack the difference.
Starting from the Missio Dei we would say that God is not distant, but as throughout history, intimately involved in his creation. God is near and active. What God is doing is completing his work. His constant activity is not attending to me (answering my questions, directing each decision) but attending to his purpose. This doesn't mean I have no direction. It doesn't mean God is leaving me out. On the contrary, my work is to join God in his mission! He has shown us what is good . . . act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with your God.
I do have constant direction from God, but it is not centered on me and my questions about this or that in life, but centered on Him and his purpose. My direction is not what car to buy, but how to be about God's purpose. Ultimately, with this view, I do have to bring my purchase of a car under God's direction. I do not expect God to make something happen to direct me to the right car dealership, and choose the "right" model, but I do have to ask how my choices might be in harmony or out of harmony with God's purposes.
The spiritual life, walking in the Spirit, or however you want to describe this God-centered life . . . is not learning to be a "sign-reader" of all God's personalized messages to me, but how to conform myself to what God is really doing. God is not attending to me; I am learning to attend to Him. There is a world of difference here.
For me, and some others with similar journeys, we started out with a very removed God. He worked closely with his people in "Bible times" - miracles, prophecies, inspiration, and direct guidance - but in our day had drawn back, no longer doing anything "supernatural." Fortunately, God had left us a manual, the Bible, which we were to follow carefully, mining it for clues about how to please him by doing the right things.
Obviously, though we wouldn't have said that God was an impersonal force, practically our interaction with God was very impersonal because all we had was the Bible. We lived with and by a set of documents. God was passive and an observer while we worked hard to please him according to the instructions he'd given.
A God-is-Near Discovery
Something world-changing happened when I was found by the reality of a near God, who was not only known distantly through texts, but immediately by his continued work and presence. Obviously, I didn't throw away my Bible. I did, though, need to discover how to live within the presence of God, interacting moment by moment.
Now I can change my verbs to present tense - and I am still learning how to live with God as a person. This is not easy, because besides the old view I had, there are other ideas about what it means for God to be real and active in our world, and for us to shape our lives to his reality.
A God-is-Leading-Me View
See, some would tell me that since God is living, active, and present - I can expect constant and daily guidance in everything. Walking in the Spirit means taking every matter to God and looking for divine help - answers, direction, or whatever is needed. Being a spiritual person means being in touch with God's voice, and his word is personalized to me and directs me each moment to do His Will. We learn to hear God's voice and to faithfully respond.
In it's best aspects, this view takes seriously God's involvement in our world and encourages constant reliance on Him. I am to think of God always, and trust Him for everything. That is good.
One of the possible problems with this approach is the assumption that there is personalized divine direction for everything. Will God tell me specifically which car to buy? I don't mean does he establish principles of moderation, of propriety, of extravagance, and of stewardship under which I look for how to be godly in my decision, but will God pick the Toyota over the Ford for me directly? Am I to look for a sign of God's leading when I am in the dealership?
It may sound as if I am making fun of this view, but I am not. These are real, practical questions for how I am to expect God's Presence to shape me. These are faithful questions. Do I look for specific, addressed-to-my-question answers?
An associated problem is how to know whether I am getting that direction from God, or is my "impulse" coming from somewhere else? It can become too easy to be certain that all my urgings are from God. If I adopt this approach, at least let me be hesitant with my "readings" of God's Will lest certitude close me off from God's direction which may not always come from within me. A good question is whether God's direction is regularly or only occasionally a matter of an "inner" message laid on the heart.
A God-is-at Work View
I actually like another understanding of God's immediate action and presence, and a different expectation of what it means for me to receive direction - and this is the Missio Dei, or Mission of God. This is a different starting point: God is at work with his purpose or mission, rather than God is at work guiding me. Let me try to unpack the difference.
Starting from the Missio Dei we would say that God is not distant, but as throughout history, intimately involved in his creation. God is near and active. What God is doing is completing his work. His constant activity is not attending to me (answering my questions, directing each decision) but attending to his purpose. This doesn't mean I have no direction. It doesn't mean God is leaving me out. On the contrary, my work is to join God in his mission! He has shown us what is good . . . act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with your God.
I do have constant direction from God, but it is not centered on me and my questions about this or that in life, but centered on Him and his purpose. My direction is not what car to buy, but how to be about God's purpose. Ultimately, with this view, I do have to bring my purchase of a car under God's direction. I do not expect God to make something happen to direct me to the right car dealership, and choose the "right" model, but I do have to ask how my choices might be in harmony or out of harmony with God's purposes.
The spiritual life, walking in the Spirit, or however you want to describe this God-centered life . . . is not learning to be a "sign-reader" of all God's personalized messages to me, but how to conform myself to what God is really doing. God is not attending to me; I am learning to attend to Him. There is a world of difference here.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
Weekend Update . . .
Had a great time in Dothan, AL yesterday with Christians of The Journey. Two of us went to spend Sunday with them, and were blessed by their gracious hospitality and encouraged by their community and focus.
I told them that it reminded me of being in Africa - where every Sunday was a 2-4 hour drive to a church to teach, discuss, and reconnect with Christians I hadn't seen in a while.
We get to experience the same in reverse next weekend, as Christians who've started a house church in Auburn travel here and we'll have some time to sit down and discuss how God leads in being his people in our respective situations.
Should be a blessing!
I told them that it reminded me of being in Africa - where every Sunday was a 2-4 hour drive to a church to teach, discuss, and reconnect with Christians I hadn't seen in a while.
We get to experience the same in reverse next weekend, as Christians who've started a house church in Auburn travel here and we'll have some time to sit down and discuss how God leads in being his people in our respective situations.
Should be a blessing!
Friday, April 28, 2006
Idealists and Intuitives
I am quite clearly an idealist. That is to say, I try to live out of ideas . . . principles that are as true as I can make them to my own understanding. I guess it goes with being an idealist that one then tries to order life according to those ideals, which means that integrity is the consistent application of those truths. For an idealist, to lack integrity is to not aspire to the truths one knows. In other words, to know, but to ignore and do otherwise.
One thing I have learned, that has tempered my idealism, is that my hold on truth is flawed. Furthermore, the exact nature of where my perception is flawed is hidden from me. So my idealism is for me the way I must go, while I must also be constantly ready to adjust that idealism to new understandings of truth.
We had a guest last Sunday, a Roman Catholic scholar who spoke (among other things) about Aristotle's view of man. One of the fundamental characteristics of man is his desires, which is quite different from the mind. For me it is natural as an idealist for my desires to be for a life ordered more about the mind seeking truth - and as a Christian truth is the person of God.
However, I see that others order their lives around their desires, and the mind for them works to support their desires. I am not talking about sinful, fleshly desires, just that they seem to want, not as the result of thinking, but just out of who they are. I am also not suggesting that their desires are selfish. Perhaps I could contrast their approach as more intuitive versus my idealism. This is, I assume, as natural for them as my idealism is for me. But it sure drives me nuts!
So here's the confession . . . being with those who think and live this way is work for an idealist! I just don't know how to do this well (at least "well" in the way I think of it). But that's another whole subject . . .
So here's what happens: I think about how we should be based on seeking truth, my desires not being as important as finding truth - at least as well as I can grasp it at this moment. These other people, most unlike me as they can be, seem to desire a way to be. I am not saying this is wrong, just talking about how foreign our processes are to one another.
While my thinking is toward discovering how we should be, their thinking seems to run toward finding ways to say why we should be as they desire to be. I can see all sorts of inconsistency in their thinking. What is put forward to "support" a desire would be disowned by them in an instant with regard to another of their desires that it would not support. But I realize that "consistency" in thinking is important for me in ways it is not likely as important for them.
This drives me bonkers. For me, living by my thinking (flawed as it is, but what else do I have?) is my end; for them, thinking is a means to support the ends they desire.
The weird thing for an idealist to realize is that their desires have as much a chance of being "right" as my grasp on truth. Since my best efforts to order life around a search for God, in a particular manner, is always flawed, their desires might be as true or even more correct. Whose to say?
So we are left to muddle through, living as inscrutable creatures to one another. And so here is God - creating space for the practice of grace, patience, love, acceptance, and all other aspects of his nature by shaping some of us as idealists and others as intuitives. That we live in this tension is likely more important than sorting out our different approaches - which probably will never happen anyway. There isn't much chance of me ever not being an idealist. I can't expect to turn intuitives into people like me.
An intuitive probably wouldn't have spent the last hour trying to sort out a cognitive framework for understanding this dynamic.
One thing I have learned, that has tempered my idealism, is that my hold on truth is flawed. Furthermore, the exact nature of where my perception is flawed is hidden from me. So my idealism is for me the way I must go, while I must also be constantly ready to adjust that idealism to new understandings of truth.
We had a guest last Sunday, a Roman Catholic scholar who spoke (among other things) about Aristotle's view of man. One of the fundamental characteristics of man is his desires, which is quite different from the mind. For me it is natural as an idealist for my desires to be for a life ordered more about the mind seeking truth - and as a Christian truth is the person of God.
However, I see that others order their lives around their desires, and the mind for them works to support their desires. I am not talking about sinful, fleshly desires, just that they seem to want, not as the result of thinking, but just out of who they are. I am also not suggesting that their desires are selfish. Perhaps I could contrast their approach as more intuitive versus my idealism. This is, I assume, as natural for them as my idealism is for me. But it sure drives me nuts!
So here's the confession . . . being with those who think and live this way is work for an idealist! I just don't know how to do this well (at least "well" in the way I think of it). But that's another whole subject . . .
So here's what happens: I think about how we should be based on seeking truth, my desires not being as important as finding truth - at least as well as I can grasp it at this moment. These other people, most unlike me as they can be, seem to desire a way to be. I am not saying this is wrong, just talking about how foreign our processes are to one another.
While my thinking is toward discovering how we should be, their thinking seems to run toward finding ways to say why we should be as they desire to be. I can see all sorts of inconsistency in their thinking. What is put forward to "support" a desire would be disowned by them in an instant with regard to another of their desires that it would not support. But I realize that "consistency" in thinking is important for me in ways it is not likely as important for them.
This drives me bonkers. For me, living by my thinking (flawed as it is, but what else do I have?) is my end; for them, thinking is a means to support the ends they desire.
The weird thing for an idealist to realize is that their desires have as much a chance of being "right" as my grasp on truth. Since my best efforts to order life around a search for God, in a particular manner, is always flawed, their desires might be as true or even more correct. Whose to say?
So we are left to muddle through, living as inscrutable creatures to one another. And so here is God - creating space for the practice of grace, patience, love, acceptance, and all other aspects of his nature by shaping some of us as idealists and others as intuitives. That we live in this tension is likely more important than sorting out our different approaches - which probably will never happen anyway. There isn't much chance of me ever not being an idealist. I can't expect to turn intuitives into people like me.
An intuitive probably wouldn't have spent the last hour trying to sort out a cognitive framework for understanding this dynamic.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Dietrich
I watched a PBS presentation on Bonhoeffer last night. The show was really well done with interviews with his students, his best friend from when he was teaching in the seminary in northern Germany, the sister of the young woman he proposed to . . . and of course they included many of his own words from his books and letters.
His understanding that faith had to have concrete expression in the world - which did not allow him to ignore the Nazis' actions - is compelling. His willingness to identify with the hurting and marginalized people, abdicating his position of safety to risk death with even those who did not share his faith, is truly a story of the presence of Christ.
He obviously wrestled with the meaning of faith - pursuing with sincerity what he believed was truly faithful, while struggling with profound questions.
As much as he believed that his faithful duty was to oppose Hitler, and even to try and kill him, the events show that it was not God's will that Hitler die by another's hand. I don't intend to defend God's choices . . . God has mercy on whom he has mercy.
I have no doubt that Bonhoeffer was faithful and pleasing to God even though what he tried to accomplish God did not wish to do. Instead of bringing a tyrant to the grave, God gave the church a martyr . . . and a clear voice that needs to be heard today.
His understanding that faith had to have concrete expression in the world - which did not allow him to ignore the Nazis' actions - is compelling. His willingness to identify with the hurting and marginalized people, abdicating his position of safety to risk death with even those who did not share his faith, is truly a story of the presence of Christ.
He obviously wrestled with the meaning of faith - pursuing with sincerity what he believed was truly faithful, while struggling with profound questions.
As much as he believed that his faithful duty was to oppose Hitler, and even to try and kill him, the events show that it was not God's will that Hitler die by another's hand. I don't intend to defend God's choices . . . God has mercy on whom he has mercy.
I have no doubt that Bonhoeffer was faithful and pleasing to God even though what he tried to accomplish God did not wish to do. Instead of bringing a tyrant to the grave, God gave the church a martyr . . . and a clear voice that needs to be heard today.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Recent Blessings . . .
Had a visit from Eddie Rogers last week. Eddie and his wife Kathy were missionaries in Kenya when we were in Tanzania, and I hadn't seen him since before they left Kenya in 1997. It was so good to see him again . . . and to talk.
They have recently moved out of their denominational heritage and are discovering what else they've been missing. It's never all good, but there is more good in Christianity than is contained in any of it's denominational manifestations.
We remembered conversations long ago about such matters . . . while sitting in their home in Sotik, and later Kericho. They lived along the road we would take for the 13 hour drive from our home to Nairobi, Kenya for doctor's appointments and to stock up on supplies.
We were talking then about a journey which continues now in different circumstances - but it is the same seeking of God that we were about then. Today we are still being formed more by the Misseo Dei than pragmatics, economics, career opportunities, denominational structures, or such.
I was also blessed last week to hear Brian McLaren speak at Samford University on the subject of interfaith dialogue. His sense of needing to be generous and respectful, truth-seeking while not fearful, open, careful, and nuanced in dialogue, and to be true to convictions all resonate powerfully with me. It was a reminder of what I have sensed is so needed.
In one week, these two events reaffirmed to me the journey which I first understood in Africa, and the difficulties of pursuing it where civil religion and the lure of respectability and practicality demand other choices. This Easter we need a resurrection of simple faith, discipleship, obedience, and love in a Christian world too enamored with its economic weight, media inroads, political initiatives, and institutional efficiency.
I guess, like Paul, I want to say "I was not disobedient to the vision" (Acts 26:19). It is not an undestanding that I force on anyone, but concerning which I will speak to everyone who is willing to listen. Ironically, it is a vision which includes room for those who don't share it . . . which is the posture Brian was talking about.
They have recently moved out of their denominational heritage and are discovering what else they've been missing. It's never all good, but there is more good in Christianity than is contained in any of it's denominational manifestations.
We remembered conversations long ago about such matters . . . while sitting in their home in Sotik, and later Kericho. They lived along the road we would take for the 13 hour drive from our home to Nairobi, Kenya for doctor's appointments and to stock up on supplies.
We were talking then about a journey which continues now in different circumstances - but it is the same seeking of God that we were about then. Today we are still being formed more by the Misseo Dei than pragmatics, economics, career opportunities, denominational structures, or such.
I was also blessed last week to hear Brian McLaren speak at Samford University on the subject of interfaith dialogue. His sense of needing to be generous and respectful, truth-seeking while not fearful, open, careful, and nuanced in dialogue, and to be true to convictions all resonate powerfully with me. It was a reminder of what I have sensed is so needed.
In one week, these two events reaffirmed to me the journey which I first understood in Africa, and the difficulties of pursuing it where civil religion and the lure of respectability and practicality demand other choices. This Easter we need a resurrection of simple faith, discipleship, obedience, and love in a Christian world too enamored with its economic weight, media inroads, political initiatives, and institutional efficiency.
I guess, like Paul, I want to say "I was not disobedient to the vision" (Acts 26:19). It is not an undestanding that I force on anyone, but concerning which I will speak to everyone who is willing to listen. Ironically, it is a vision which includes room for those who don't share it . . . which is the posture Brian was talking about.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Free-Market Christianity?
Ted Haggard, president of the National Association of Evangelicals, has a book out about free-market small groups that someone showed me a few weeks ago. He also has one out entitled the Jerusalem Diet for how to reach your ideal weight . . . but I am trying to avoid my less-than-gracious urges to say more about that one.
Back to the first book: though I appreciate the desire to be relevant, I worry that we are too often treating Christianity like a belief system that can be communicated by any "effective" means. The idea is that Americans, who are people raised in and accustomed to a free-market society, must have their church small groups conform to that model . . . in order for the small groups to be effective. The belief is that the way to form our spiritual lives is along the lines of the economic models of our society. Economic theory becomes the guide for how to pursue spiritual formation.
I actually applaud the creativity, wholism, God-in-everything, and anything-can-be-holy concept that Ted is promoting, but I don't like the idea that we ought to pragmatically do life in whatever way our society endorses. Aren't there theological reasons for being creative, wholistic, seeing God in all of life, and reclaiming all sorts of activities as God-honoring? Do we do this only because it fits the free-market economics of our nation? Do we encourage creativity in forming small groups because our economy endorses the idea of a free-market, or because God is creative and our human diversity is by his design and ought to be encouraged?
Obviously, I think there are compelling out-of-the-nature-of-God reasons for what Ted talks about. But when we say we are encouraging people to be creative, to find God in everything because they live in a free-market society and like things that way . . . we put our economic system in the guiding role.
I know . . . we have to communicate the message in ways people can relate to. However, do I want to tie the message of the Kingdom of God to the principles of a free-market economy? Do I want to say that these two go together like hand-in-glove? Do I believe that these are wholly complementary? Is there nothing about our free-market economy that God's Reign questions?
This is actually a much bigger problem of the people of God losing their identity. It is the belief that all that is "good" about America is consistent with being the people of faith. Being a "good" American - supporting democracy, a free-market economy, free-trade, opposing big government, advocating low taxes, and such ("good American" as understood by the conversative right) - is part of being a good Christian.
The church that sells itself to people with the message of how appealing, satisfying, and relevant it is, and tries to build customer loyalty so expand marketshare is following the American ideal. The prevalent model of church in a free-market society where the competitive capitalistic values have become the norm for how the people of faith pursue a life of faith, has lost its identity. No longer can such a church call people to what is unpopular, uncomfortable, unaccustomed, or unlike the status quo. A free-market culls out whatever doesn't sell.
Don't assume that I am opposed to free-markets, or democracy, or that I like big government. I don't and I'm not. I just know that such things stand under the judgment of God, and are imperfect. I know that as the people of God we will never be completely comfortable nor in harmony with our society - whether we live in communist North Korea or in the Bible belt of the southern U.S.
If we stop being theologically-driven, and become pragmatically-driven, becoming the advocates of national political or economic policies and equating those with our faith, our identity in God is compromised.
I really don't want to take Ted to task, for I assume his motives are nothing but good. I want to offer a critique of an approach that his book perhaps exemplifies, in the hope that we might be formed by who God is rather than the ways of our culture.
Back to the first book: though I appreciate the desire to be relevant, I worry that we are too often treating Christianity like a belief system that can be communicated by any "effective" means. The idea is that Americans, who are people raised in and accustomed to a free-market society, must have their church small groups conform to that model . . . in order for the small groups to be effective. The belief is that the way to form our spiritual lives is along the lines of the economic models of our society. Economic theory becomes the guide for how to pursue spiritual formation.
I actually applaud the creativity, wholism, God-in-everything, and anything-can-be-holy concept that Ted is promoting, but I don't like the idea that we ought to pragmatically do life in whatever way our society endorses. Aren't there theological reasons for being creative, wholistic, seeing God in all of life, and reclaiming all sorts of activities as God-honoring? Do we do this only because it fits the free-market economics of our nation? Do we encourage creativity in forming small groups because our economy endorses the idea of a free-market, or because God is creative and our human diversity is by his design and ought to be encouraged?
Obviously, I think there are compelling out-of-the-nature-of-God reasons for what Ted talks about. But when we say we are encouraging people to be creative, to find God in everything because they live in a free-market society and like things that way . . . we put our economic system in the guiding role.
I know . . . we have to communicate the message in ways people can relate to. However, do I want to tie the message of the Kingdom of God to the principles of a free-market economy? Do I want to say that these two go together like hand-in-glove? Do I believe that these are wholly complementary? Is there nothing about our free-market economy that God's Reign questions?
This is actually a much bigger problem of the people of God losing their identity. It is the belief that all that is "good" about America is consistent with being the people of faith. Being a "good" American - supporting democracy, a free-market economy, free-trade, opposing big government, advocating low taxes, and such ("good American" as understood by the conversative right) - is part of being a good Christian.
The church that sells itself to people with the message of how appealing, satisfying, and relevant it is, and tries to build customer loyalty so expand marketshare is following the American ideal. The prevalent model of church in a free-market society where the competitive capitalistic values have become the norm for how the people of faith pursue a life of faith, has lost its identity. No longer can such a church call people to what is unpopular, uncomfortable, unaccustomed, or unlike the status quo. A free-market culls out whatever doesn't sell.
Don't assume that I am opposed to free-markets, or democracy, or that I like big government. I don't and I'm not. I just know that such things stand under the judgment of God, and are imperfect. I know that as the people of God we will never be completely comfortable nor in harmony with our society - whether we live in communist North Korea or in the Bible belt of the southern U.S.
If we stop being theologically-driven, and become pragmatically-driven, becoming the advocates of national political or economic policies and equating those with our faith, our identity in God is compromised.
I really don't want to take Ted to task, for I assume his motives are nothing but good. I want to offer a critique of an approach that his book perhaps exemplifies, in the hope that we might be formed by who God is rather than the ways of our culture.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Good blog post by Creech
I was reading Creech's blog today (http://www.alancreech.com/) and felt a kinship with him.
Though I was planted in different soil than him, I've think I've come to the place of not wanting to be stuffed into religious boxes anymore-which is what I see him saying. I don't want to choose a label, a flavor, a limited expression of faith and make it my norm. Of course, whatever I actually do will reflect some flavor or branch of the Christian Church . . . that's obvious.
I also don't want to try and be ahistorical, pretending I'm somehow able to transcend the realities of being a follower of Jesus in a time and place. I can't be a Christian without a context. In fact, only within a context (a real circumstance) can we be Christians.
Strangely enough, the heritage I grew up in once said things like "Christians only, but not the only Christians" and somehow lost that sentiment. Now trying to be "just a Christian" gets one in trouble with the very denomination that once sought to be only that.
Of course my own heritage has no monopoly on being denominationally-minded. It's the disease of denominationalism.
Though I was planted in different soil than him, I've think I've come to the place of not wanting to be stuffed into religious boxes anymore-which is what I see him saying. I don't want to choose a label, a flavor, a limited expression of faith and make it my norm. Of course, whatever I actually do will reflect some flavor or branch of the Christian Church . . . that's obvious.
I also don't want to try and be ahistorical, pretending I'm somehow able to transcend the realities of being a follower of Jesus in a time and place. I can't be a Christian without a context. In fact, only within a context (a real circumstance) can we be Christians.
Strangely enough, the heritage I grew up in once said things like "Christians only, but not the only Christians" and somehow lost that sentiment. Now trying to be "just a Christian" gets one in trouble with the very denomination that once sought to be only that.
Of course my own heritage has no monopoly on being denominationally-minded. It's the disease of denominationalism.
Friday, March 10, 2006
A short note . . .
To someone who is struggling and asked for my prayer, I wrote . . .
I certainly will be praying. Sounds, though, like a regular day for most people – that is, to struggle with all sorts of thoughts, impulses, and temptations. Sometimes we become more aware, and sometimes the struggle is greater. I do not say that to downplay what you’re feeling, but only to remind you that it may be more typical than atypical. In other words, of such is the nature of our journey.
For whatever reason the struggle is increased, or your awareness has been deepened, I pray that you will find the grace to practice simple obedience – following carefully the way of Jesus through submission to God, humility, full dependence, honest confession, and above all love. This I have great confidence you will continue under God’s strength and blessing, though the immediate difficulties may be apparent as beyond your abilities – as truly they are.
Perhaps such unsettledness of spirit is a nudge into healing those parts that still hurt, so it may be angels and not demons that stir these emotions. Either way, God’s goodness will be realized through your patient seeking.
Peace.
I certainly will be praying. Sounds, though, like a regular day for most people – that is, to struggle with all sorts of thoughts, impulses, and temptations. Sometimes we become more aware, and sometimes the struggle is greater. I do not say that to downplay what you’re feeling, but only to remind you that it may be more typical than atypical. In other words, of such is the nature of our journey.
For whatever reason the struggle is increased, or your awareness has been deepened, I pray that you will find the grace to practice simple obedience – following carefully the way of Jesus through submission to God, humility, full dependence, honest confession, and above all love. This I have great confidence you will continue under God’s strength and blessing, though the immediate difficulties may be apparent as beyond your abilities – as truly they are.
Perhaps such unsettledness of spirit is a nudge into healing those parts that still hurt, so it may be angels and not demons that stir these emotions. Either way, God’s goodness will be realized through your patient seeking.
Peace.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Birmingham Today
Despite what I said in the previous post - I just looked at the Birmngham News' newly published civil rights era photos. So I am posting after all.
I look at those images and think that the people working non-violently for rights, for opportunity, for justice . . . won technically, but I am afraid that looking at Birmingham today, they really lost.
Bigotry and prejudice are always inventive, and ways were found to comply with the changes in law but to keep the evil going. New legal ways were crafted to separate blacks and whites, for the whites to hold onto wealth, and to leave blacks in poverty.
Here in the great "Christian" south where some champion putting the ten commandments front and center, we still fail miserably to do right by our neighbors. Some southerners will resent my assertion, but then you only have to go outside this area to see what life is like where racial prejudice does not continue to profoundly shape society.
To be fair, prejudice exists everywhere -it was Polacks when I lived in Iowa, wogs and aborigines in Australia, wetbacks in Texas . . . but there is something more prevalent where the separation continues in systemic ways.
What the bigots don't realize is that when any of us are impoverished, it affects us all. We are all poorer. You don't get ahead by stepping on others . . . you only sink down by trying to push them down.
I look at those images and think that the people working non-violently for rights, for opportunity, for justice . . . won technically, but I am afraid that looking at Birmingham today, they really lost.
Bigotry and prejudice are always inventive, and ways were found to comply with the changes in law but to keep the evil going. New legal ways were crafted to separate blacks and whites, for the whites to hold onto wealth, and to leave blacks in poverty.
Here in the great "Christian" south where some champion putting the ten commandments front and center, we still fail miserably to do right by our neighbors. Some southerners will resent my assertion, but then you only have to go outside this area to see what life is like where racial prejudice does not continue to profoundly shape society.
To be fair, prejudice exists everywhere -it was Polacks when I lived in Iowa, wogs and aborigines in Australia, wetbacks in Texas . . . but there is something more prevalent where the separation continues in systemic ways.
What the bigots don't realize is that when any of us are impoverished, it affects us all. We are all poorer. You don't get ahead by stepping on others . . . you only sink down by trying to push them down.
Reusing Posts
Because I have too much to do to write another post today, or at least I think I have too much to do, I am including part of a post from my other blog, Contemplations.
peace.
----------------
Contemplation #111
“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ . . .” Galatians 1:6
The grace of Christ tolerates no rivals and no exceptions. God’s grace is so all-consuming that it leaves no room for any other way of living. Therefore, any move to live by means other than grace is a desertion of God’s merciful action in Christ. This is why our abandonment of grace can come quickly. We do not slide gradually from living by grace, but at the first turn to something other we immediately abandon God and the way of grace. The nature of grace means, though, that my quick desertion of it is not the same of God’s removal of it. Paul instructs us to return to the grace that we so quickly leave, living intentionally once again in that which we left, though which did not leave us.
peace.
----------------
Contemplation #111
“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ . . .” Galatians 1:6
The grace of Christ tolerates no rivals and no exceptions. God’s grace is so all-consuming that it leaves no room for any other way of living. Therefore, any move to live by means other than grace is a desertion of God’s merciful action in Christ. This is why our abandonment of grace can come quickly. We do not slide gradually from living by grace, but at the first turn to something other we immediately abandon God and the way of grace. The nature of grace means, though, that my quick desertion of it is not the same of God’s removal of it. Paul instructs us to return to the grace that we so quickly leave, living intentionally once again in that which we left, though which did not leave us.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Another Voice . . .
Words from Ozzy Osbourne's Dreamer:
Gazing through the window at the world outside
Wondering will mother earth survive
Hoping that mankind will stop abusing her
sometime
After all there's only just the two of us
And here we are still fighting for our lives
Watching all of history repeat itself
Time after time
I'm just a dreamer
I dream my life away
I'm just a dreamer
Who dreams of better days
I watch the sun go down like everyone of us
I'm hoping that the dawn will bring a sign
A better place for those Who will come after us ...
This time
I'm just a dreamer
I dream my life away oh yeah
I'm just a dreamer
Who dreams of better days
Your higher power may be God or Jesus Christ
It doesn't really matter much to me
Without each others help there ain't no hope for us
I'm living in a dream of fantasy
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
Gazing through the window at the world outside
Wondering will mother earth survive
Hoping that mankind will stop abusing her
sometime
After all there's only just the two of us
And here we are still fighting for our lives
Watching all of history repeat itself
Time after time
I'm just a dreamer
I dream my life away
I'm just a dreamer
Who dreams of better days
I watch the sun go down like everyone of us
I'm hoping that the dawn will bring a sign
A better place for those Who will come after us ...
This time
I'm just a dreamer
I dream my life away oh yeah
I'm just a dreamer
Who dreams of better days
Your higher power may be God or Jesus Christ
It doesn't really matter much to me
Without each others help there ain't no hope for us
I'm living in a dream of fantasy
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Truth Telling
I think that I (and I cannot say to what degree this may or may not be true for others) am still only slowly coming to understand how Jesus dealt lovingly with others - to nurture them toward God. I am convicned that I have not known how to be first loving, and only "right" within that framework.
Too often in the past I said what was "right" or "correct" on a matter, believing that being truthful in telling others what was right was to be loving. It makes good logic, but in practice I think it is actually self-satisfying. What I mean is that when I tell someone else truth to unburden myself, I am telling them out of self-love, not love for others.
Surely you know the same Bible stories that made me tend to do this - the lepers who had to tell everyone that the enemy army was gone. The watchman who isn't guilty of the people's blood as long as he sounds the alarm; if they don't listen, their blood is on their heads.
Many times I think I was like Pilate, washing my hands of other people's blood, by making sure I told them the truth. Now it was up to them - not me anymore. I was off the hook eternally.
Now when I look at the gospels - I just don't see Jesus telling others "truth" so he wouldn't be responsible. He seemed to say what they needed, not what "truth" demanded.
If you don't know what I mean by "truth" here . . . this is going to be long enough without explaining it completely. Maybe I can say simply, "truth" is something that I believe to be "right" but may have nothing to do with helping anyone. It's sterile, laboratory truth. It's truth about what is sin. That kind of statement.
Contrast this with Jesus talking to the woman caught in adultery. When he says "I don't condemn you . . . go and sin no more" he tells her three things, only one of which is new. She knew what she was doing was sin, and that she shouldn't do it anymore. It had been 1200 years since Moses received the ten commandments. She knew this.
What Jesus told her that was new was that he didn't condemn her. What if Christians stopped being those who tell everyone the "truth" of how what they are doing is wrong, and shared the truth of how Jesus (and his followers) are not in the condemning business?
We'll all be roundly labelled as soft on sin, of simply being pc, of being tolerant and reflective of a permissive age, and not believing in absolutes.
Oh, well.
Too often in the past I said what was "right" or "correct" on a matter, believing that being truthful in telling others what was right was to be loving. It makes good logic, but in practice I think it is actually self-satisfying. What I mean is that when I tell someone else truth to unburden myself, I am telling them out of self-love, not love for others.
Surely you know the same Bible stories that made me tend to do this - the lepers who had to tell everyone that the enemy army was gone. The watchman who isn't guilty of the people's blood as long as he sounds the alarm; if they don't listen, their blood is on their heads.
Many times I think I was like Pilate, washing my hands of other people's blood, by making sure I told them the truth. Now it was up to them - not me anymore. I was off the hook eternally.
Now when I look at the gospels - I just don't see Jesus telling others "truth" so he wouldn't be responsible. He seemed to say what they needed, not what "truth" demanded.
If you don't know what I mean by "truth" here . . . this is going to be long enough without explaining it completely. Maybe I can say simply, "truth" is something that I believe to be "right" but may have nothing to do with helping anyone. It's sterile, laboratory truth. It's truth about what is sin. That kind of statement.
Contrast this with Jesus talking to the woman caught in adultery. When he says "I don't condemn you . . . go and sin no more" he tells her three things, only one of which is new. She knew what she was doing was sin, and that she shouldn't do it anymore. It had been 1200 years since Moses received the ten commandments. She knew this.
What Jesus told her that was new was that he didn't condemn her. What if Christians stopped being those who tell everyone the "truth" of how what they are doing is wrong, and shared the truth of how Jesus (and his followers) are not in the condemning business?
We'll all be roundly labelled as soft on sin, of simply being pc, of being tolerant and reflective of a permissive age, and not believing in absolutes.
Oh, well.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Order and Love
In part of our coffee conversation the idea was raised that in congregational life orderliness and love are at odds. Orderliness can have many forms such as to be nice and neat about beliefs and practices, about forms and structures, or about ways of simply doing community. Love is about acceptance.
Orderliness requires the exclusion of any who might not conform. When the dominant "order" is love, then there is the inclusion of diversity in belief and practice, forms and structure, and divergent ways of being a community.
The unavoidable reality is that there is a lack of orderliness in humanity, and in our spiritual condition. To love will mean not easing our discomfort concerning the orderliness of another that seems disorderly to me.
Orderliness requires the exclusion of any who might not conform. When the dominant "order" is love, then there is the inclusion of diversity in belief and practice, forms and structure, and divergent ways of being a community.
The unavoidable reality is that there is a lack of orderliness in humanity, and in our spiritual condition. To love will mean not easing our discomfort concerning the orderliness of another that seems disorderly to me.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Catching the Wave
We are glad to begin sharing the building we lease with another church, Tapestry of Hope. For anyone who's been missing going to two services on Sundays . . . well now at our Lorna Road building Disciples' Fellowship meets in the mornings and Tapestry of Hope in the evenings.
The really cool thing is that this is just one in several ways in which God has mulitiplied our participation with His people in the last few weeks. In my missions experience, it takes 2-3 years for a movement to really get started, to work through the start-up process, and then begin really moving as God directs.
Realistically, many who began this journey did so with a considerable amount of extra luggage - more like great weights and chains which shackled everything. Thorugh God's grace we've are being brought to where we won't bind our burdens on others - and have been freed to lay much down that was needless and the dictates of men.
To me this is a sign of God moving us into an exciting and uncomfortable adventure (uncomfortable if you like knowing what is going to happen) of being and doing what will be to God's glory.
It seems that some of that is going to be practicing a unity with believers and an acceptance of anyone struggling to come to belief.
When our work in Africa reached this point I likened it to riding the crest of a wave of the Spirit's working . . . just trying to ride it and knowing there is no controlling it.
Way cool.
The really cool thing is that this is just one in several ways in which God has mulitiplied our participation with His people in the last few weeks. In my missions experience, it takes 2-3 years for a movement to really get started, to work through the start-up process, and then begin really moving as God directs.
Realistically, many who began this journey did so with a considerable amount of extra luggage - more like great weights and chains which shackled everything. Thorugh God's grace we've are being brought to where we won't bind our burdens on others - and have been freed to lay much down that was needless and the dictates of men.
To me this is a sign of God moving us into an exciting and uncomfortable adventure (uncomfortable if you like knowing what is going to happen) of being and doing what will be to God's glory.
It seems that some of that is going to be practicing a unity with believers and an acceptance of anyone struggling to come to belief.
When our work in Africa reached this point I likened it to riding the crest of a wave of the Spirit's working . . . just trying to ride it and knowing there is no controlling it.
Way cool.
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