I'm going to tell you my most "memorable" Christmas that I've had. Unfortunately, this story is best told in person with many sound effects and imitations of the people involved, however, my attempt at the written version will have to suffice.
My story takes place in Japan. It was our first Christmas away from our homes. Colleen's Mom and sister came to visit but had just left. According to my recollection, it was somewhere around a week or so before Christmas (you will understand why my memory is hazy as the story continues). Being new to the country, my body was not used to the new germs etc etc that lived in the Tokyo metropolitan area and as such, I got very very sick. I had a nasty fever and a very bad ear infection. The ear infection was so bad that I was actually bleeding out of my ear along with other nasty discharges. It was so bad that I agreed that I needed to see a doctor.
In Japan, one doesn't just go to the doctor. One must see a specialist. So in my case, I had to go to the ear, nose, and throat specialist. Since we had been in Japan for a whopping 5 months or so, my Japanese was rudimentary at best, and downright horrible in reality. Dakara (therefore), Don Love (a missionary in Japan whom Colleen was doing some volunteer work for) accompanied me to this....specialist.
Upon entry into this doctor's office, I felt immediately transported backwards in time. Instead of a futuristic doctor's office like one would expect from the technological leaders of the world, I felt like I had just stepped into the doctor's office in the Western Development Museum in Saskatoon. All of the instruments were made of stainless steel (tongue depressors, chair, etc.) and all of the doctors and nurses were wearing surgical masks and gloves. Don proceeds to go to the front desk lady (who was behind a big piece of glass with a little hole for talking through making me wonder exactly what kind of people usually show up at this place) and check me in.
It comes time for us to go in to see the doctor who has me sit in this very old fashioned looking chair made of mostly metal that goes up and down and leans back and the whole shabang. He gets his little light and starts looking in my ear to see what the matter is. He then proceeds to mutter under his breath in Japanese. "Ahhhh, nan darou. Mita koto nainda. Hmmmmm. Nani sore." Unless you understand Japanese, that made no sense to you, which is exactly how I felt. The doctor then proceeds to pull this giant book off the shelf and starts flipping through the pages looking at pictures, then looking back in my ear. At this point I'm beginning to realize that this guy has no idea what is wrong with my ear and is looking it up in his 'doctor book' right in front of me.
Having apparently come no closer to a conclusion as to what was wrong with my ear, the specialist then proceeds to 'treat' my problem. This is where it gets very interesting. For those who have a tendency to be queasy, this your chance to stop reading. For the more adventurous and those who enjoy hearing of other's agony, read on.
The doctor gets out this 12 inch long stainless steel rod with little cotton swabs on either end. Its basically a giant steel Q-tip. He then starts coming at me with this thing. My first thought is, "okay he's going to try and clean out my ear a little bit. It's a little bit big and a little overkill, but I'm sure he's just ran out of the smaller steel Q-tips." Just as I thought he was going to clean the inside of my ear he starts to put this thing in my nose. My next thought is, "Well maybe he wants to clean out the inside of my nose a bit. Maybe that will help my ear?" I'm sure you have figured out where this is going by now, but I shall continue anyway. The doctor then keeps pushing the giant steel Q-tip all the way up my nose until all 12 inches of it have disappeared into my head. I can feel this thing behind my eye scraping the drum of my ear from the inside. I daren't move at this point for fear that he'll accidentally push it in too far and will be unable to retrieve it. I have to say, that it was probably the most uncomfortable, intrusive thing I've ever had done to me (and I've had a vasectomy). This lasted for probably 30 seconds, although it felt a lot longer than that, until he finally pulled the thing back out which felt like he was going to pull my brain out at the same time a la Egyptian mummification techniques.
The doctor then starts muttering under his breath some more and flipping through his book again when he comes back and starts setting up some kind of....machine. I don't remember exactly what the machine looked like, but I do know what it did. He attached a long rubber hose (about 1/4" in diameter) to the machine and at this point I could already guess where that rubber hose is going. Unfortunately my guess was correct. Up my nose with a rubber hose. He shoves the thing right up there until its touching my ear drum and apparently, the machine was an air compressor which he fired up. He opened up the valve to the rubber hose and started blowing air right into my ear drum from the inside. In retrospect, I would like to know what psi was on that thing and exactly how much pressure it actually took until my ear drum finally blew open and air was flying out of my ear from the inside of my head. Once he had finished blowing air through my nose and out my ear, he pulled the rubber hose back out (my ear immediately plugged up again, although I must admit, those 5 seconds of relief did kind of feel good. But the hose up my nose far outweighed any benefit that those 5 seconds gave me). That was the end of the treatment.
The doctor then prescribed me antibiotics, something else, and something to counteract the antibiotics side effects, and then another medication to counteract the side effects of the medication that was meant to counter the side effects of the antibiotics. Needless to say, it was a poor experience at the doctor and I was supposed to go back a week later for a follow-up. Naturally, I didn't want to have the steel rod rubber hose treatment again so we told everybody we knew to pray for my ear. Within a week, before I had to go back, my ear was completely cleared up. When Don and I went back to the doctor, he looked in my ear and did nothing else. He then explained to Don that he had actually been really worried about my ear and didn't think that it was going to recover and that I was going to lose my hearing. So it is quite safe to say that God performed a miracle for me that Christmas and allowed me to keep my hearing in that ear. In fact, the last time I had a hearing test, that ear did better than the other one. And that is my most memorable Christmas story.
Owarimashita! (The End)
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Christmas Tales...
As I'm sure you all know, Christmas is nearly upon us. In light of the intrinsically busy nature of the holiday season as well as the fact that I hope very much that our contributors and readers are all getting some needed rest, let's shift gears to something a little lighter until after the holidays.
If you're at all interested in blogging here over the break, why not tell us your very favorite Christmas story. It can be fiction or non-fiction, funny or sad, touching or absurd. My wife and I have been rediscovering the comforting power of stories lately. It's served as a reminder that no matter how much propositional theology I read or write, the power of narrative to touch and change my life is always deeper.
So tell us a story, whatever story you like.
If you're at all interested in blogging here over the break, why not tell us your very favorite Christmas story. It can be fiction or non-fiction, funny or sad, touching or absurd. My wife and I have been rediscovering the comforting power of stories lately. It's served as a reminder that no matter how much propositional theology I read or write, the power of narrative to touch and change my life is always deeper.
So tell us a story, whatever story you like.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
What is Salvation?
I feel like it might be helpful to get back to basics for a minute. My question is: What is salvation? In the context of our particular blog here, another way of putting it might be: What is the point?I'm going to take some cynical liberties and for the sake of argument colour some possible answers according to some of the language I've been picking up on here on this blog and also in evangelicalism as a whole. I'm not trying to pick on anyone, but I want to push and prod us a bit too.
1) Is salvation to be thought of in terms of individual life-transformation? A change of character so that one is more Christ-like not only in outward moral action but in terms of inner peace and so on?
2) Is salvation a matter of personal allegiance; an assent or surrender of the will to God?
3) Is salvation to be thought of as the invoking of a new kind of humanity? Thus to be saved is to be converted to a sort of humanitarianism modeled after Christ?
4) Is salvation about personal destiny? Eventually you will be raised to life with God in heaven or you will die into an eternity apart from God in hell; and that's the basic issue at stake?
5) Is salvation about being in love with God? Coming into a personal relationship with Christ and loving Him and loving others?
6) Is salvation about being part of communion with the Triune God in Christ together with all the saints, as sort of a first outposts of the City of God's self-giving love; the Kingdom of Heaven?
7) Other?
Now before everyone decides this is merely abstract theology and therefore irrelevant, let me take my provocative "colourings" of the issue a bit further and spell out what I see to be practical ramifications of these different views:
1) Self-help books are more important than the Church, unless of course you've been lucky enough to find a church that caters to your "felt-needs" pretty directly. Seems pretty ingrown to me. Not sure what place the Bride of Christ has in this view, other than being the collective place where hopefully our lives get enhanced, we get "fed", we get encouraged and inspired, and so on. And what does our witness to Christ become except trying to help people better themselves, ie, look what Christ did for me! I'm sure he can do the same for you! Spiritual gifts are also about personal self-fulfillment; they aren't really for others, per se.
2) What matters most here then is the act of the will, the surrender of oneself, the declaration of loyalties. The altar call is paramount. It takes over. It becomes what it is all about. Everything else is gravy; even optional. The worship service all leads up to these moments of decision. The testimony is mostly about what led us to our turning point. It is about us and our choice. What about God? What about life?
3) Why go to church? Come to think of it: Why be a Christian? What does Christ have that Oprah and Brangelina don't? (By the way I love Brad Pitt, don't get me wrong)
4) Again, why life on earth at all then? Why even create earth? Why not cut to the chase? And why does life go on and on? And why did Jesus do so many healings? Why was the idea of heaven and hell almost absent from Israel's teachings?
5) Too often this view makes it all about the isolated personal relationship, so that all that matters is our fuzzy-wuzzy moments with God, our "sacred romance", and so when we get together for corporate worship we all have our eyes closed trying to get that experience of God. And we talk about being in love with Jesus in ways that I don't see even the disciples who walked with him doing.
6) Obviously, by saving this one for last, I'm showing my own colours. I think this enfolds the truths of the others, and yet puts a perspective on things that is much more holistic and true.
Forgive my provocative cynicism here. I offer it in a spirit of (serious) fun. The above is written as a conversation starter, not as some sort of full-fledgedstatement of faith or something like that. Of course, I am trying to say some things here, but they are haphazard and sloppy to some degree, just to get us started. Feel free to add a seventh option, to "redeem" one of the ones I've offered and mutilated; or to critique or prod for more on number 6!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Witness...
Let me begin by doing something that Scripture commands and rejoicing with those who rejoice and mourning with those who mourn. On the rejoicing side, a huge congrats to Jon (a regular contributor) and his wife on the birth of their twin boys. You can see some ridiculously cute pics here (I'm talking about the kids, not Jon of course), as well as names and critical info. Deepest blessings to you and Ang, Jon, and my thoughts and prayers are with you. On the mourning side, a close friend and her husband recently lost their unborn twins. There's nothing good to be said about this, it's horrible up and down. Jin and I love you and we're praying for you everyday.
On to the question. This one's been slow to move, which makes me think people are busy. It can't possibly be a crappy, disinteresting questions because I thought it up and, as we all know, everything I do is pure gold ;). But seriously folks, if the question seems lame to you that's cool, just let me know or feel free to push us off in another direction if you like. Here's my attempt at an answer.
First of all, I really can't disagree with anything that Jon or Scott said in the comments on the last post. Jon hits on one of the most important points in any discussion about evangelism, which is the fact that no human person anywhere at anytime has ever converted another person to faith in Christ. Conversion is an act of God and nothing less. It is on this single, most important, truth that I think we must build a theology of evangelism. People are not numbers on a scoreboard or notches in a belt. We are not successful because of how many we've "saved." We don't save anybody, Christ does.
What then is our duty as Christians? It's to be Christian. We are called to live as people who have encountered God and are changed because of it. This means, again as Jon said, being witnesses to Christ. A witness sees or experiences an event and then tells about it. Even more, in the spiritual sense of witness, a witness has been changed at the deepest level and doesn't just tell about what caused that change, but lives about it. This can take almost any form. When people ask me how we should do evangelism I ask them how they told people they were engaged to be married. How do you tell people about this great book you just read? How do you tell people that you just had twins? You tell them by telling them. You tell them in any which-way you can. You email and phone, you blog and write, you stop and chat, you preach and proclaim, you do all sorts of things. Good news is good news, and you tell it by telling it. How's that for a permeating syllogism?
Is it legitimate to make exclusive claims about Christ and faith? You bet it is! Everyone makes exclusive claims. I don't know any religion or philosophy that makes no exclusive claims at all. What would be the point of that philosophy or religion? I have no trouble claiming that Christianity is the only way to truly know God. But when I say that, I try to say it with honest humility. I think that Christianity is the only way to truly know God. It is indeed possible that I'm wrong. This is the path that I've chosen and there are reasons for that choice. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. But I don't think that I am wrong, so I'm perfectly happy to argue in favour of my choice to follow Christ.
When it comes to in-bounds and out-of-bounds approaches to evangelism, all I say is that manipulation is un-Christian. I don't want to manipulate someone into thinking that he/she is a Christian. In fact, often when I tell someone about the Gospel I spend most of my time talking them out of it. Being a Christian is a big deal. It should not be taken on lightly. Anything that looks or smells at all of manipulation is out of bounds. Apart from that, who cares? Communicate in the form and the forum that you think is helpful and effective and let God do his thing.
One last thing. When we talk about a person being "saved," do we just mean saved from hell, or is there something more at play there? Should we maybe be talking about being "saved for" at least as much as "saved from"?
On to the question. This one's been slow to move, which makes me think people are busy. It can't possibly be a crappy, disinteresting questions because I thought it up and, as we all know, everything I do is pure gold ;). But seriously folks, if the question seems lame to you that's cool, just let me know or feel free to push us off in another direction if you like. Here's my attempt at an answer.
First of all, I really can't disagree with anything that Jon or Scott said in the comments on the last post. Jon hits on one of the most important points in any discussion about evangelism, which is the fact that no human person anywhere at anytime has ever converted another person to faith in Christ. Conversion is an act of God and nothing less. It is on this single, most important, truth that I think we must build a theology of evangelism. People are not numbers on a scoreboard or notches in a belt. We are not successful because of how many we've "saved." We don't save anybody, Christ does.
What then is our duty as Christians? It's to be Christian. We are called to live as people who have encountered God and are changed because of it. This means, again as Jon said, being witnesses to Christ. A witness sees or experiences an event and then tells about it. Even more, in the spiritual sense of witness, a witness has been changed at the deepest level and doesn't just tell about what caused that change, but lives about it. This can take almost any form. When people ask me how we should do evangelism I ask them how they told people they were engaged to be married. How do you tell people about this great book you just read? How do you tell people that you just had twins? You tell them by telling them. You tell them in any which-way you can. You email and phone, you blog and write, you stop and chat, you preach and proclaim, you do all sorts of things. Good news is good news, and you tell it by telling it. How's that for a permeating syllogism?
Is it legitimate to make exclusive claims about Christ and faith? You bet it is! Everyone makes exclusive claims. I don't know any religion or philosophy that makes no exclusive claims at all. What would be the point of that philosophy or religion? I have no trouble claiming that Christianity is the only way to truly know God. But when I say that, I try to say it with honest humility. I think that Christianity is the only way to truly know God. It is indeed possible that I'm wrong. This is the path that I've chosen and there are reasons for that choice. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. But I don't think that I am wrong, so I'm perfectly happy to argue in favour of my choice to follow Christ.
When it comes to in-bounds and out-of-bounds approaches to evangelism, all I say is that manipulation is un-Christian. I don't want to manipulate someone into thinking that he/she is a Christian. In fact, often when I tell someone about the Gospel I spend most of my time talking them out of it. Being a Christian is a big deal. It should not be taken on lightly. Anything that looks or smells at all of manipulation is out of bounds. Apart from that, who cares? Communicate in the form and the forum that you think is helpful and effective and let God do his thing.
One last thing. When we talk about a person being "saved," do we just mean saved from hell, or is there something more at play there? Should we maybe be talking about being "saved for" at least as much as "saved from"?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Question #4...
Things seem to be moving along fairly well so far. Since the first biographical question we've had official questions from both me and Trev. Again, any contributor is welcome to post an official question at any point and ask for replies. Also, any commentator is welcome to post in comments requesting a specific question. I will absolutely take any such question and post it officially as long as it falls anywhere near the very broad topical reach of the blog.
Conversation on Trev's post seems to be slowing down, and my kind-of-unofficialish-questionlike post seems to be pretty slow as well. As always, if those topics are still of interest to you please keep commenting in the threads. I know I check them almost daily and I think our other contributors and readers check them regularly too. That said, I think it's time for a new official question.
This time I'm going to take Jon's and Dustin's advice and go with something a little bit more specific. I'm also going to vary the format slightly. There has been some back and forth discussion about practical v. theoretical problems. Like Jon I think that the practical and theoretical are both completely necessary. I also realize, however, that they do represent two different kinds of conversations. As an attempt to let both conversations happen I'll ask this question in two ways. First as a theoretical/theological question, and second as a practical/ecclesiological question. This one arises out of several of the comments in Trev's question and the responses to it.
On the theological end:
Is the attempt to convert non-Christians to Christianity a legitimate undertaking? If so, how do you deal with questions of imposing our point of view on others who don't share it? Isn't this just a kind of colonialism? If not, how do you deal with both the extensive biblical witness to the importance of active evangelism and also the long history and tradition of the Church that values evangelism and missionary work? Has the Church always been wrong and we're just getting it right now?
On the practical end:
If evangelism is a legitimate enterprise, what should it look like in the 21st century Canadian (and if you like, American) church? What practices are in-bounds and what practices are out-of-bounds, and why? If evangelism is not a legitimate enterprise, how then should the church relate to the non-Christian world generally and to non-Christians in particular? Is it just a live-and-let-live situation or is there any kind of broad responsibility with regard to the interaction of Church and culture?
Well folks, there you are. Have at it.
Conversation on Trev's post seems to be slowing down, and my kind-of-unofficialish-questionlike post seems to be pretty slow as well. As always, if those topics are still of interest to you please keep commenting in the threads. I know I check them almost daily and I think our other contributors and readers check them regularly too. That said, I think it's time for a new official question.
This time I'm going to take Jon's and Dustin's advice and go with something a little bit more specific. I'm also going to vary the format slightly. There has been some back and forth discussion about practical v. theoretical problems. Like Jon I think that the practical and theoretical are both completely necessary. I also realize, however, that they do represent two different kinds of conversations. As an attempt to let both conversations happen I'll ask this question in two ways. First as a theoretical/theological question, and second as a practical/ecclesiological question. This one arises out of several of the comments in Trev's question and the responses to it.
On the theological end:
Is the attempt to convert non-Christians to Christianity a legitimate undertaking? If so, how do you deal with questions of imposing our point of view on others who don't share it? Isn't this just a kind of colonialism? If not, how do you deal with both the extensive biblical witness to the importance of active evangelism and also the long history and tradition of the Church that values evangelism and missionary work? Has the Church always been wrong and we're just getting it right now?
On the practical end:
If evangelism is a legitimate enterprise, what should it look like in the 21st century Canadian (and if you like, American) church? What practices are in-bounds and what practices are out-of-bounds, and why? If evangelism is not a legitimate enterprise, how then should the church relate to the non-Christian world generally and to non-Christians in particular? Is it just a live-and-let-live situation or is there any kind of broad responsibility with regard to the interaction of Church and culture?
Well folks, there you are. Have at it.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Greatest of These?
I'm throwing out another question in response to Trev's post below and some of the things said on the comments thread. I in no way intend to shut down conversation on the other threads and I strongly encourage contributors and readers to go there and keep the conversation going. That said:
Jesus once said that the two greatest commandments are to love God with everything and to love our neighbors as ourselves. When those two commands come into conflict, and we must choose between loving a God who we accept by faith and a neighbor who we can shake hands with, which one is paramount? Is it better to love God or to love neighbor?
Jesus once said that the two greatest commandments are to love God with everything and to love our neighbors as ourselves. When those two commands come into conflict, and we must choose between loving a God who we accept by faith and a neighbor who we can shake hands with, which one is paramount? Is it better to love God or to love neighbor?
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
A "post-modern" opinion.
The term post-modern is just a term that can be used to describe a variety of things and even if we don't use the term with its original meaning, it is nonetheless used to describe the current cultural climate we find ourselves in. Usage of word by the masses to describe something makes it correct. Thus, I personally use the term post-modern as a way to describe our current culture, if for no other reason but to fit in and sound like I know what I'm talking about.
I want to just touch on a couple of things regarding the post-modern Christian 'in action'. This is probably going to be really hodge podge, but such is life. Please bear with me. I would also like to begin by saying that most of what follows is just my opinion. The first thing I would like to discuss is tolerance, and specifically religious tolerance. I don't really like the word tolerance, I prefer to say acceptance in its stead. I really like this one quote from Herman Melville's Moby-Dick. Ishmael, the main character, finds himself unexpectly bunking with a pagan named Queequeg who worships a little idol. They soon become good friends, and what follows are Ishmael's thoughts when Queequeg invites him to join in his worship of the Idol.
"I was a good Christian; born and bred in the bosom of the infallible Presbyterian Church. How then could I unite with this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood? But what is worship? thought I. Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven and earth-pagans and all included-can possibly be jealous of an insignificant bit of black wood? Impossible! But what is worship?-to do the will of God-that is worship. And what is the will of God?-to do to my fellow man what I would have my fellow man do to me-that is the will of God. Now, Queequeg is my fellow man. And what do I wish that this Queequeg would do to me? Why, unite with me in my particular Presbyterian form of worship. Consequently, I must then unite with him in his; ergo, I must turn idolator. So I kindled the shavings; helped prop up the innocent little idol; offered him burnt biscuit with Queequeg; salaamed before him twice or thrice; kissed his nose; and that done, we undressed and went to bed, at peace with our own consciences and all the world."
Personally, I thought that was brilliant. Herman Melville definitely had a certain slant in his theological thinking that was much more accepting of other religions as is evidenced throughout Moby Dick. Of course his logic is somewhat interesting, as he chooses to place the 'do unto your neighbour' commandment above the 'do not worship any other god' commandment, but then again, Jesus did say that was the second most important thing to remember, but that is beside the point. Back to my opinion.
Is it possible to be a Christian and still accept other religions? Colin talked in his post about how he will dialogue with a hindu or buddhist and not think they're stupid. He thinks they're wrong, but not stupid. I also believe that is very important. I think that truth is relative, and true objectivity impossible. I also believe that proving Christianity is the one true religion is also impossible. To believe Christianity as the one true religion is different from Christianity being the one true religion. As such, as a Christian, I think that one needs to have an accepting attitude toward other religions.
I don't think that we should be necessarily targeting certain religious groups and trying to force the gospel on them in order to turn them into converts. For me, I switch the emphasis toward social action (again this is just how I feel, and I do realize that balance is important). For me, I find it somewhat disturbing that we as Christians have large buildings with paid pastors (nothing against pastors, I love you gals/guys), large bills to pay each month to run our monsterous churches, missionaries to support who are working to convert the catholics in South America (whom, incidentally, I do not think need converting), and then when the benevolent offering goes around people are scrounging out their quarters. Of course, this is not a blanket statement for all Christians and churches, it is just the impression I have gotten from the churches I have attended. I have digressed from my acceptance rant slightly, but that's okay.
Acceptance goes beyond different religions. One specific example that I can think of is the gay community. Recently (relatively recently) Canada opted to change the definition of 'marriage' to include same-sex couples, allowing them to have the same rights as heterosexual couples. I know a lot of Christians who have found this to be the most offensive and horrible thing in the world. Regardless of where one stands on the whole 'homosexuality is a sin' issue, I believe that this is not a moral issue, but rather a human rights issue (I don't want this to turn into a pro-gay/anti-gay discussion). I don't believe in mixing religion and politics. Religious freedom in our country means that we don't impose religious beliefs on the whole of the country and that we are all free to worship in whatever way we feel. Since homosexuality is a Christian religious moral issue, it is unfair to impose Christian religious views on the gay community and deny them their rights as humans. Therefore, I was very happy when the government decided to sanction gay marriage.
Regarding how we interact with non-Christians, I do have an opinion on that as well (surprise of all surprises). I have heard very recently, even in the last 2 days, how a certain Christian was feeling quite guilty about the fact that they haven't really brought their neighbours or non-christian friends to church. Personally, if I was a non-Christian, I wouldn't want to go to Church. It's just weird. They all stand and sing strange songs about blood and other strange metaphors. Then they pray these long prayers where they say 'Lord' and 'God' and 'Just' every two words. (I'm not being critical, I'm just trying to demonstrate how the things that we Christians take as normal are really very strange looking from the outside). I first noticed this 'strangeness' after living in Japan and having not attended a large English speaking Church for a very long time. When we did go, I was weirded out.
All that to say, that it seems that as far as evangelism goes, what most of us have done in the past is put on some kind of event at the church, and bring a friend. Personally, I really dislike this. The unsuspecting victim comes to the event expecting a nice meal and hanging out with their buddy only to discover they have become a project and are hit in the forehead with the gospel. It's almost like getting a free night at a time-share-condo.
I don't believe that non-Christians are projects to be converted. Why can't we all just have real friendships with people who don't believe the way we do without having some secret agenda? People aren't stupid. They can see right through stuff like that. I personally will not invite a friend to church or to an event. If they ask me if they can come, and its their initiative, that's all fine and great. I am more interested in helping people if they need it (although I'm not always good at doing that), having conversations about spirituality (without saying I think they are wrong), and if somebody is interested more in Christianity and wants to check out Church, so be it. But again, I'm not a bean counter for how many converts a church gets. We do ourselves no favours by doing aggressive evangelism. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you? This goes back to Queequeg. Ishmael did for Queequeg what he would have Queequeg do for him, and that, I think, speaks more than evangelistic events.
Moving on. I have another quote for you from the Brian Mclaren's book, Finding our Way Again. The discussion is regarding why Buddhism seems to be so popular. Dr. Senge, when talking to a book store owner, asked what the most popular books were. The second most popular books which were bought were about spirituality, and in particular Buddhism. The question is then posed to Dr. Senge by Brian Mclaren, "why are books on Buddhism so popular and not books on Christianity?" The answer that was given was this. "I think it's because Buddhism presents itself as a way of life, and Christianity presents itself as a sytem of belief. So I would want to get Christian ministers thinking about how to rediscover their own faith as a way of life, because that's what people are searching for today. That's what they need most."
It was this quote that kind of inspired me to ask the question I did. I think that it is very true that the general image that Christianity gives off is that we are a system of belief. We tell you what and how to believe regarding God and that's pretty much the jist of it. Of course Christians will argue that we are much more than a system of beliefs, but that does not negate that the world views us otherwise. How can Christianity become a way of life and not a system of beliefs? Brian Mclaren goes on in his book to discuss the Ancient Practices of the Christian faith as a way of life which I do find to be very useful. I don't really have a good answer to this question and would be interested in hearing everybody else's thoughts on this as well.
Unfortunately, I have found myself in the 'system of belief' camp for most of my life and am just trying to work through this question for myself. I think as well, that if most of us are honest with ourselves, what we believe is more important than how we live out our Christian lives. Just look at how fast our conversations on this blog turn to technical theological issues which don't really influence how we live our lives. I am definitely guilty of this myself. I am by nature a thinker, and thus I become very analytical trying to work out my 'system of belief'' to the detriment of working on my way of life. I of course have my soap boxes (social action and acceptance being the main ones) but as far as spiritual practices go, I am very much lacking. Sorry, this post got kind of long. I thought it would be quick.
I want to just touch on a couple of things regarding the post-modern Christian 'in action'. This is probably going to be really hodge podge, but such is life. Please bear with me. I would also like to begin by saying that most of what follows is just my opinion. The first thing I would like to discuss is tolerance, and specifically religious tolerance. I don't really like the word tolerance, I prefer to say acceptance in its stead. I really like this one quote from Herman Melville's Moby-Dick. Ishmael, the main character, finds himself unexpectly bunking with a pagan named Queequeg who worships a little idol. They soon become good friends, and what follows are Ishmael's thoughts when Queequeg invites him to join in his worship of the Idol.
"I was a good Christian; born and bred in the bosom of the infallible Presbyterian Church. How then could I unite with this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood? But what is worship? thought I. Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven and earth-pagans and all included-can possibly be jealous of an insignificant bit of black wood? Impossible! But what is worship?-to do the will of God-that is worship. And what is the will of God?-to do to my fellow man what I would have my fellow man do to me-that is the will of God. Now, Queequeg is my fellow man. And what do I wish that this Queequeg would do to me? Why, unite with me in my particular Presbyterian form of worship. Consequently, I must then unite with him in his; ergo, I must turn idolator. So I kindled the shavings; helped prop up the innocent little idol; offered him burnt biscuit with Queequeg; salaamed before him twice or thrice; kissed his nose; and that done, we undressed and went to bed, at peace with our own consciences and all the world."
Personally, I thought that was brilliant. Herman Melville definitely had a certain slant in his theological thinking that was much more accepting of other religions as is evidenced throughout Moby Dick. Of course his logic is somewhat interesting, as he chooses to place the 'do unto your neighbour' commandment above the 'do not worship any other god' commandment, but then again, Jesus did say that was the second most important thing to remember, but that is beside the point. Back to my opinion.
Is it possible to be a Christian and still accept other religions? Colin talked in his post about how he will dialogue with a hindu or buddhist and not think they're stupid. He thinks they're wrong, but not stupid. I also believe that is very important. I think that truth is relative, and true objectivity impossible. I also believe that proving Christianity is the one true religion is also impossible. To believe Christianity as the one true religion is different from Christianity being the one true religion. As such, as a Christian, I think that one needs to have an accepting attitude toward other religions.
I don't think that we should be necessarily targeting certain religious groups and trying to force the gospel on them in order to turn them into converts. For me, I switch the emphasis toward social action (again this is just how I feel, and I do realize that balance is important). For me, I find it somewhat disturbing that we as Christians have large buildings with paid pastors (nothing against pastors, I love you gals/guys), large bills to pay each month to run our monsterous churches, missionaries to support who are working to convert the catholics in South America (whom, incidentally, I do not think need converting), and then when the benevolent offering goes around people are scrounging out their quarters. Of course, this is not a blanket statement for all Christians and churches, it is just the impression I have gotten from the churches I have attended. I have digressed from my acceptance rant slightly, but that's okay.
Acceptance goes beyond different religions. One specific example that I can think of is the gay community. Recently (relatively recently) Canada opted to change the definition of 'marriage' to include same-sex couples, allowing them to have the same rights as heterosexual couples. I know a lot of Christians who have found this to be the most offensive and horrible thing in the world. Regardless of where one stands on the whole 'homosexuality is a sin' issue, I believe that this is not a moral issue, but rather a human rights issue (I don't want this to turn into a pro-gay/anti-gay discussion). I don't believe in mixing religion and politics. Religious freedom in our country means that we don't impose religious beliefs on the whole of the country and that we are all free to worship in whatever way we feel. Since homosexuality is a Christian religious moral issue, it is unfair to impose Christian religious views on the gay community and deny them their rights as humans. Therefore, I was very happy when the government decided to sanction gay marriage.
Regarding how we interact with non-Christians, I do have an opinion on that as well (surprise of all surprises). I have heard very recently, even in the last 2 days, how a certain Christian was feeling quite guilty about the fact that they haven't really brought their neighbours or non-christian friends to church. Personally, if I was a non-Christian, I wouldn't want to go to Church. It's just weird. They all stand and sing strange songs about blood and other strange metaphors. Then they pray these long prayers where they say 'Lord' and 'God' and 'Just' every two words. (I'm not being critical, I'm just trying to demonstrate how the things that we Christians take as normal are really very strange looking from the outside). I first noticed this 'strangeness' after living in Japan and having not attended a large English speaking Church for a very long time. When we did go, I was weirded out.
All that to say, that it seems that as far as evangelism goes, what most of us have done in the past is put on some kind of event at the church, and bring a friend. Personally, I really dislike this. The unsuspecting victim comes to the event expecting a nice meal and hanging out with their buddy only to discover they have become a project and are hit in the forehead with the gospel. It's almost like getting a free night at a time-share-condo.
I don't believe that non-Christians are projects to be converted. Why can't we all just have real friendships with people who don't believe the way we do without having some secret agenda? People aren't stupid. They can see right through stuff like that. I personally will not invite a friend to church or to an event. If they ask me if they can come, and its their initiative, that's all fine and great. I am more interested in helping people if they need it (although I'm not always good at doing that), having conversations about spirituality (without saying I think they are wrong), and if somebody is interested more in Christianity and wants to check out Church, so be it. But again, I'm not a bean counter for how many converts a church gets. We do ourselves no favours by doing aggressive evangelism. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you? This goes back to Queequeg. Ishmael did for Queequeg what he would have Queequeg do for him, and that, I think, speaks more than evangelistic events.
Moving on. I have another quote for you from the Brian Mclaren's book, Finding our Way Again. The discussion is regarding why Buddhism seems to be so popular. Dr. Senge, when talking to a book store owner, asked what the most popular books were. The second most popular books which were bought were about spirituality, and in particular Buddhism. The question is then posed to Dr. Senge by Brian Mclaren, "why are books on Buddhism so popular and not books on Christianity?" The answer that was given was this. "I think it's because Buddhism presents itself as a way of life, and Christianity presents itself as a sytem of belief. So I would want to get Christian ministers thinking about how to rediscover their own faith as a way of life, because that's what people are searching for today. That's what they need most."
It was this quote that kind of inspired me to ask the question I did. I think that it is very true that the general image that Christianity gives off is that we are a system of belief. We tell you what and how to believe regarding God and that's pretty much the jist of it. Of course Christians will argue that we are much more than a system of beliefs, but that does not negate that the world views us otherwise. How can Christianity become a way of life and not a system of beliefs? Brian Mclaren goes on in his book to discuss the Ancient Practices of the Christian faith as a way of life which I do find to be very useful. I don't really have a good answer to this question and would be interested in hearing everybody else's thoughts on this as well.
Unfortunately, I have found myself in the 'system of belief' camp for most of my life and am just trying to work through this question for myself. I think as well, that if most of us are honest with ourselves, what we believe is more important than how we live out our Christian lives. Just look at how fast our conversations on this blog turn to technical theological issues which don't really influence how we live our lives. I am definitely guilty of this myself. I am by nature a thinker, and thus I become very analytical trying to work out my 'system of belief'' to the detriment of working on my way of life. I of course have my soap boxes (social action and acceptance being the main ones) but as far as spiritual practices go, I am very much lacking. Sorry, this post got kind of long. I thought it would be quick.
Exhortations for Postmoderns
Trevor asks, “What does a post-modern Christian look like?” As has probably already become clear from some of my other comments, I’m rather cynical about the term “post-modern.” To be candid, I think that that what is often called post-modernity is nothing really new at all. Sure, there are so-called post-modern philosophers (Derrida, Foucault, etc), and these guys are worth a read, but they really amount to a radical skepticism of the presuppositions of various caricatures of the Enlightenment. My (admittedly superficial) read of these guys leaves me with the impression that, at the end of it all, we are nothing more than prisoners of our own skulls and appetites. These are hardly new ideas and hardly ones that a Christian can affirm. Socially, however, what passes for post-modernity is really not much more than a re-vitalization of certain treads of that were already expressed in the Enlightenment (ie., Romanticism).
Apart from the mini-rant, I do have something constructive to say. This is going to sound pompous and self-righteous. I only intend it playfully; please read it that way.
I offer “10 exhortations to so-called Post-modern Christians.” You will see that they are not quite original and have been cribbed from another book:
1. Have no other Gods before YHWH. Remember, you’re identity is in your baptism and not in your location in any cultural movement. In fact, you may find that your cultural situation runs both with and against the grain of your Lord’s command (most likely the latter). Ultimately, appellations before the word “Christian” are not important. Take your guidance from that word alone.
2. Do not make for yourself an idol. There is no such thing as a “post-modern God,” nor is there a “modern God.” Stop trying to create the one and melt down the other. God is God. Postmodernism and modernism, and any other ism, is not a box that God has to fit into.
3. Do not take the Lord’s name in vain. The Modernist application of God’s name to absolutist politics, the progress of science and history, and uniformity are no worse than the application of the same name to diversity, relativity, and textual indeterminism.
4. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. Rest and go to church. Cynicism is hard on the soul. Take a break and give one to others. Worship, hear the Word, and participate in the sacraments.
5. Honour your father and mother. Your spiritual fathers and mothers invested a lot in you. Yeah, they did some stuff you didn’t like all that much. Yet you actually owe them something. Don’t jump ship and don’t go around bad-mouthing your elders as “fundies.” Even the real fundies had some legitimate concerns. Honour them.
6. You shall not murder. Your interest in tradition is a good idea. Tradition, however, also went on in the generation just before you and continues to go on in the one you find yourself. Don’t kill them off. Perhaps those contemporary streams that you find so un-appealing are there for a reason, or at least hold some meaning for others. Be gentle and patient.
7. You shall not commit adultery. In your supposed freedom from the sexual moorings of your heritage, don’t forget that the body is the Lord’s. You can make a big mess of it. Perhaps, just perhaps, some of those moorings we are so quick to throw off rightly “got” the sacredness of what goes on in the bedroom of a married couple in a way we forget.
8. You shall not steal. Ancient-future faith stuff is sexy but don’t cherry-pick the Great tradition. The liturgies, rituals, and theologies of the Church are complex and integrated things. It does not show respect to them when they are cut-and-pasted at your whim. Taking a ritual from a medieval Celtic liturgy, dropping it into the middle of a worship service with a rock-band and following it up with some lectio divina is just downright superficial.
9. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour. When you go about critiquing your evangelical forefathers, take the time to hear them carefully. It is a lie that so-called modernist evangelicals (or “fundies”) didn’t care about love of neighbour or community or thought that the Bible was only a book of propositional truths. Sometimes they acted like they did… but take the time to actually hear what was going on a generation or two ago.
10. You shall not covet. Ask yourself, “Is my infatuation with “post-modernity” a way for me to gain prominence through caricatures of the evil modernists and shock-value of debunking recent tradition? Am I trying to get the mantle of leadership from my elders before my time?”
Sorry, this is my feeble attempt to keep it light
Apart from the mini-rant, I do have something constructive to say. This is going to sound pompous and self-righteous. I only intend it playfully; please read it that way.
I offer “10 exhortations to so-called Post-modern Christians.” You will see that they are not quite original and have been cribbed from another book:
1. Have no other Gods before YHWH. Remember, you’re identity is in your baptism and not in your location in any cultural movement. In fact, you may find that your cultural situation runs both with and against the grain of your Lord’s command (most likely the latter). Ultimately, appellations before the word “Christian” are not important. Take your guidance from that word alone.
2. Do not make for yourself an idol. There is no such thing as a “post-modern God,” nor is there a “modern God.” Stop trying to create the one and melt down the other. God is God. Postmodernism and modernism, and any other ism, is not a box that God has to fit into.
3. Do not take the Lord’s name in vain. The Modernist application of God’s name to absolutist politics, the progress of science and history, and uniformity are no worse than the application of the same name to diversity, relativity, and textual indeterminism.
4. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. Rest and go to church. Cynicism is hard on the soul. Take a break and give one to others. Worship, hear the Word, and participate in the sacraments.
5. Honour your father and mother. Your spiritual fathers and mothers invested a lot in you. Yeah, they did some stuff you didn’t like all that much. Yet you actually owe them something. Don’t jump ship and don’t go around bad-mouthing your elders as “fundies.” Even the real fundies had some legitimate concerns. Honour them.
6. You shall not murder. Your interest in tradition is a good idea. Tradition, however, also went on in the generation just before you and continues to go on in the one you find yourself. Don’t kill them off. Perhaps those contemporary streams that you find so un-appealing are there for a reason, or at least hold some meaning for others. Be gentle and patient.
7. You shall not commit adultery. In your supposed freedom from the sexual moorings of your heritage, don’t forget that the body is the Lord’s. You can make a big mess of it. Perhaps, just perhaps, some of those moorings we are so quick to throw off rightly “got” the sacredness of what goes on in the bedroom of a married couple in a way we forget.
8. You shall not steal. Ancient-future faith stuff is sexy but don’t cherry-pick the Great tradition. The liturgies, rituals, and theologies of the Church are complex and integrated things. It does not show respect to them when they are cut-and-pasted at your whim. Taking a ritual from a medieval Celtic liturgy, dropping it into the middle of a worship service with a rock-band and following it up with some lectio divina is just downright superficial.
9. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour. When you go about critiquing your evangelical forefathers, take the time to hear them carefully. It is a lie that so-called modernist evangelicals (or “fundies”) didn’t care about love of neighbour or community or thought that the Bible was only a book of propositional truths. Sometimes they acted like they did… but take the time to actually hear what was going on a generation or two ago.
10. You shall not covet. Ask yourself, “Is my infatuation with “post-modernity” a way for me to gain prominence through caricatures of the evil modernists and shock-value of debunking recent tradition? Am I trying to get the mantle of leadership from my elders before my time?”
Sorry, this is my feeble attempt to keep it light
An Excercise in Redundancy...
Tara's and Jon's posts on Trev's question are both better than this is going to be, thus the title.
Jon and Chris might be right that I'm oversimplifying when I say postmodernism and Christianity are like oil and water. If Tara wants to call herself a postmodern Christian then that's really fine with me. The reason that I get hesitant about using the word is because I don't think that the Church should be postmodern. I don't think it should be modern either. It's probably some of both and I should just get over it. But for the record I think the Church should be the Church.
What does a postmodern Christian (okay, I'm caving, fine) look like? Well all I can really do is what Jon and Tara did and tell you about why I'm still a Christian.
I believe in God. The word believe is the key there. I honestly and truly don't know that there is a god in the universe, and I honestly and truly don't know what he/she/it is like. I believe in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I mean this as an attempt at humility (you all know how good I am at that). I'm happy to dialogue with anyone about anything related to faith. If you're an athiest, if you're a Muslim, if you're Hindu, I may disagree with you about God and how the universe works, but I don't think you're stupid or ridiculous or evil or any of that. I do think you're wrong, but since you think I'm wrong too let's not get too pissed off about that okay?
I believe very deeply in the importance of Christian community. As a great man once said, if nobody's going with you, you're probably going the wrong way. I don't believe that Christianity can be just a personal religion that you live out in your heart or even in your actions. We all need specific, and preferably local, communities in which to believe. Why is a community so important? Because I need to be told when I'm acting or thinking in a silly way or a way that's inconsistent with who Christ is. I do it all the time. Like Tara I'm a disaster a lot of the time. I do and say stupid, immoral, unkind, unChristian things all the time. If I was all on my own how would I know that's what was happening? Also, and this is at the heart of how the Bible works for me, how do I know that the way that I understand Christianity is the right way? I need other people who call themselves Christians to tell me how they understand Christianity and Christ. I need Colleen and Lola and Dustin and Chris and everyone else here, and my wife and my family, and all the people in my church (if we ever find one in Hamilton, sheesh), and all of my friends at school, and all of the dead people who wrote the books I read. I need, to put it more briefly, a "great cloud of witnesses." How the hell else am I going to keep running?
One of the important things that I think underlies Trev's question (tell me if I'm wrong here) is another question, How is postmodern Christianity different from modern Christianity? Well there are some differences of emphasis I think.
First, I'm not all that concerned in creating a subculture that looks totally different from the rest of the world. I drink wine and beer and scotch (and really anything except Gin...ick! who can stand that crap?!), I watch R rated movies, I watch television, I read non-Christian books, I do all sorts of things that would have had my youthgroup laying hands on me in the 90s. Is this all just me selling out and conforming to the culture around me? I hope not. When I drink a glass of wine I honestly believe that my enjoyment of it, my love of the flavour and the company sharing the bottle with me, honours God. When I watch Pan's Labyrinth yes I see terrible violence, but I also try to reflect on the story and what it means in relation to my understanding of God. When I read Eco's Name of the Rose I'm reading a book by a man who doesn't believe in my faith, but his insights about Medieval Christianity, and about exclusion, and about the nature of evil are all powerful and meaningful and important critiques that I need to hear. I absolutely refuse to shut myself away from the culture in which I live. In fact I go so far as to completely remove myself from Christian sub-culture. This is maybe a little reactionary, and probably as much about snobery as anything, but it's also at least partly about being in the world consciously and intentionally.
Having said all of this, there are things that I think are uniquely Christian. I read my Bible. I read books that are specifically about Christian theology. I started this blog, and I maintain (rather haphazardly) my own blog in order to encourage discussion about Christianity and what it means to be Christian. I've been baptized and I've baptized other people. I take communion and I've served it. I pray, though like Jon I'm not always sure how and I've tried lots of ways. I try to find ways to worship Jesus Christ. These are some of the things that make me and other Christians "not of" the world. The framework of all of these things might be cultural. I speak English, I baptize in a very Western way, I take communion in a very Western way, I generally worship using tools like modern music or even reflective techniques. The content, however, is unique. I proclaim, and read about, and think about, and pray to, and worship, and submit myself to Father, Son and Spirit.
Also, to reiterate something Jon said, there are all sorts of things that are integral to the working out of my faith that look like capitulation to culture but are really Christian things. I try very hard to be environmentally conscious and careful. I think I'm a steward of the world by the grace of God, and I'd like to try to do a good job. I try very hard to be just in my politics and my economics. Like Jon said, this is Isaiah and Micah and the Sermon on the Mount more than anything else.
A lot of what this question is about is boundary markers. Who's in and who's out. This has always been the most difficult question about Christianity for me. I'm sure there are boundary markers. I'm sure there is a point when a person just isn't a Christian anymore. The difference between me now and me 10 years ago is that I'm less willing now to try to define those markers. I believe very deeply in God's statement "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and compassion on whom I will have compassion." But there still have to be boundary markers of some kind. Dustin and I were talking about this over coffee yesterday. If a church flattens itself out so much that you can't tell why it's different from the rest of the world anymore, then what the hell is the point of that church?
Can anyone help me with this?
Jon and Chris might be right that I'm oversimplifying when I say postmodernism and Christianity are like oil and water. If Tara wants to call herself a postmodern Christian then that's really fine with me. The reason that I get hesitant about using the word is because I don't think that the Church should be postmodern. I don't think it should be modern either. It's probably some of both and I should just get over it. But for the record I think the Church should be the Church.
What does a postmodern Christian (okay, I'm caving, fine) look like? Well all I can really do is what Jon and Tara did and tell you about why I'm still a Christian.
I believe in God. The word believe is the key there. I honestly and truly don't know that there is a god in the universe, and I honestly and truly don't know what he/she/it is like. I believe in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I mean this as an attempt at humility (you all know how good I am at that). I'm happy to dialogue with anyone about anything related to faith. If you're an athiest, if you're a Muslim, if you're Hindu, I may disagree with you about God and how the universe works, but I don't think you're stupid or ridiculous or evil or any of that. I do think you're wrong, but since you think I'm wrong too let's not get too pissed off about that okay?
I believe very deeply in the importance of Christian community. As a great man once said, if nobody's going with you, you're probably going the wrong way. I don't believe that Christianity can be just a personal religion that you live out in your heart or even in your actions. We all need specific, and preferably local, communities in which to believe. Why is a community so important? Because I need to be told when I'm acting or thinking in a silly way or a way that's inconsistent with who Christ is. I do it all the time. Like Tara I'm a disaster a lot of the time. I do and say stupid, immoral, unkind, unChristian things all the time. If I was all on my own how would I know that's what was happening? Also, and this is at the heart of how the Bible works for me, how do I know that the way that I understand Christianity is the right way? I need other people who call themselves Christians to tell me how they understand Christianity and Christ. I need Colleen and Lola and Dustin and Chris and everyone else here, and my wife and my family, and all the people in my church (if we ever find one in Hamilton, sheesh), and all of my friends at school, and all of the dead people who wrote the books I read. I need, to put it more briefly, a "great cloud of witnesses." How the hell else am I going to keep running?
One of the important things that I think underlies Trev's question (tell me if I'm wrong here) is another question, How is postmodern Christianity different from modern Christianity? Well there are some differences of emphasis I think.
First, I'm not all that concerned in creating a subculture that looks totally different from the rest of the world. I drink wine and beer and scotch (and really anything except Gin...ick! who can stand that crap?!), I watch R rated movies, I watch television, I read non-Christian books, I do all sorts of things that would have had my youthgroup laying hands on me in the 90s. Is this all just me selling out and conforming to the culture around me? I hope not. When I drink a glass of wine I honestly believe that my enjoyment of it, my love of the flavour and the company sharing the bottle with me, honours God. When I watch Pan's Labyrinth yes I see terrible violence, but I also try to reflect on the story and what it means in relation to my understanding of God. When I read Eco's Name of the Rose I'm reading a book by a man who doesn't believe in my faith, but his insights about Medieval Christianity, and about exclusion, and about the nature of evil are all powerful and meaningful and important critiques that I need to hear. I absolutely refuse to shut myself away from the culture in which I live. In fact I go so far as to completely remove myself from Christian sub-culture. This is maybe a little reactionary, and probably as much about snobery as anything, but it's also at least partly about being in the world consciously and intentionally.
Having said all of this, there are things that I think are uniquely Christian. I read my Bible. I read books that are specifically about Christian theology. I started this blog, and I maintain (rather haphazardly) my own blog in order to encourage discussion about Christianity and what it means to be Christian. I've been baptized and I've baptized other people. I take communion and I've served it. I pray, though like Jon I'm not always sure how and I've tried lots of ways. I try to find ways to worship Jesus Christ. These are some of the things that make me and other Christians "not of" the world. The framework of all of these things might be cultural. I speak English, I baptize in a very Western way, I take communion in a very Western way, I generally worship using tools like modern music or even reflective techniques. The content, however, is unique. I proclaim, and read about, and think about, and pray to, and worship, and submit myself to Father, Son and Spirit.
Also, to reiterate something Jon said, there are all sorts of things that are integral to the working out of my faith that look like capitulation to culture but are really Christian things. I try very hard to be environmentally conscious and careful. I think I'm a steward of the world by the grace of God, and I'd like to try to do a good job. I try very hard to be just in my politics and my economics. Like Jon said, this is Isaiah and Micah and the Sermon on the Mount more than anything else.
A lot of what this question is about is boundary markers. Who's in and who's out. This has always been the most difficult question about Christianity for me. I'm sure there are boundary markers. I'm sure there is a point when a person just isn't a Christian anymore. The difference between me now and me 10 years ago is that I'm less willing now to try to define those markers. I believe very deeply in God's statement "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and compassion on whom I will have compassion." But there still have to be boundary markers of some kind. Dustin and I were talking about this over coffee yesterday. If a church flattens itself out so much that you can't tell why it's different from the rest of the world anymore, then what the hell is the point of that church?
Can anyone help me with this?
Monday, November 17, 2008
Tara's ramblings
I am going to try and tackle both the Scripture question and the post modern question in one post. My answers will be entirely non-academic in nature. I think the guys have that end covered.
First:
"What is the Bible? How does it work? In what way is it meaningful (or is it meaningful)? In what way(s) is it true (or not true)?"
I was raised to believe that the Bible was just one of MANY spiritual texts that one can use to learn about God. Although I agree that there are good points in many of the world's religious texts I really do believe the Bible is unique. I have read parts of the Hindu writings, excerpts from Buddhism, and almost the entire Quran. It is my personal opinion that the Bible is the only truly unselfish text. The Biblical writers were trying to point us to God, not to themselves.
I believe that the Bible, in it's original text (language), is the absolute word of God. I think that we have likely lost some aspects through the translation process. I think that God knew most of us would need a hard copy of His teachings since we are such bone heads. The Bible is another proof of God's graciousness to us. He is reaching out to us in a tangible and incredibly obvious way.
The whole point of the Bible is that it is a TOOL God uses to help us get to know HIM better, to help us build greater relationship with Him and with those around us. It is NOT a purely academic text. When you take the intrinsic spirituality of the Scripture out of it you are simply left with another religious text. I really believe that Scripture is from God.
Obviously I think Scripture is meaningful and true. As a person who has often struggled to "get anything" out of daily Scripture reading, to truly feel connected to God, I know it is my own darn fault. The problem is not with God's words to me... the problem lies with me. MY selfishness and self centerdness and "issues" distract me from truly hearing God's voice in His words. The fact that I EVER get anything out of reading the Bible is truly a testament to God's goodness and His willingness to meet us where we are at... selfish morons that we are.
so.. now for question number 2
What does the 'post-modern christian' look like in action?
Well... I'm a post modern Christian. I look like a frazzled mom who is trying her best to teach her kids about God without sounding like a cheesy religious commercial. I look like an imperfectly odd pastor's wife trying to understand what the point of the religious sub-culture is. I have SOOO many questions about why we do church the way we do it ( churches in general as well as our church specifically). It is so clear to me that people crave relationship and yet so many of our religious practices prevent true relationship.
Why do we try so hard to sound perfect? Why do we act smarter than others? Why do we act as though we have the corner on truth? Why are emotions dismissed as the trappings of our flesh while logical intellectual thinking is upheld as the way to find God? And really, if we are all so darn post-modern in our thinking why the heck don't I fit in better?
I feel like half the time we are simply chasing after whatever the "new" thing is. Right now it is cool to be "different"... cool to "rebel" against the traditional church. And while I completely agree that church needs a full overhaul I do NOT agree with my generations penchant for simply ditching when things don't go their way. If you are not a part of a local body of believers in a regular and meaningful way than you simply do not have the right to complain about it. HOW you participate is up to you but don't bash other's honest attempts to serve God.
I know there is plenty to complain about but being a judgemental ass goes both ways. Christians are accused of judging those outside of the church but I PROMISE you as one who grew up on the other side that the judgement goes both ways.
We are human. We pretty much suck. But God loves us anyway inspite of our failure to really figure things out. I am an introvert at heart. I worship best when I am alone. The corporate worship experience is challenging for me... at best. But I believe that God created us for community. I know that our individualistic Western culture does not help with that. But still I try. Not because it is a "rule" but because I know that God has called me NOT to be a complete hermit.
I think that post-moderns are more concerned with social justice issues and environmental issues than the generations before us. I think we are striving for authenticity. I think we are slowly changing church. I think our natural disposition toward relativism causes a lot of us a good amount of confusion.
And I think that is enough ramblings from me.
First:
"What is the Bible? How does it work? In what way is it meaningful (or is it meaningful)? In what way(s) is it true (or not true)?"
I was raised to believe that the Bible was just one of MANY spiritual texts that one can use to learn about God. Although I agree that there are good points in many of the world's religious texts I really do believe the Bible is unique. I have read parts of the Hindu writings, excerpts from Buddhism, and almost the entire Quran. It is my personal opinion that the Bible is the only truly unselfish text. The Biblical writers were trying to point us to God, not to themselves.
I believe that the Bible, in it's original text (language), is the absolute word of God. I think that we have likely lost some aspects through the translation process. I think that God knew most of us would need a hard copy of His teachings since we are such bone heads. The Bible is another proof of God's graciousness to us. He is reaching out to us in a tangible and incredibly obvious way.
The whole point of the Bible is that it is a TOOL God uses to help us get to know HIM better, to help us build greater relationship with Him and with those around us. It is NOT a purely academic text. When you take the intrinsic spirituality of the Scripture out of it you are simply left with another religious text. I really believe that Scripture is from God.
Obviously I think Scripture is meaningful and true. As a person who has often struggled to "get anything" out of daily Scripture reading, to truly feel connected to God, I know it is my own darn fault. The problem is not with God's words to me... the problem lies with me. MY selfishness and self centerdness and "issues" distract me from truly hearing God's voice in His words. The fact that I EVER get anything out of reading the Bible is truly a testament to God's goodness and His willingness to meet us where we are at... selfish morons that we are.
so.. now for question number 2
What does the 'post-modern christian' look like in action?
Well... I'm a post modern Christian. I look like a frazzled mom who is trying her best to teach her kids about God without sounding like a cheesy religious commercial. I look like an imperfectly odd pastor's wife trying to understand what the point of the religious sub-culture is. I have SOOO many questions about why we do church the way we do it ( churches in general as well as our church specifically). It is so clear to me that people crave relationship and yet so many of our religious practices prevent true relationship.
Why do we try so hard to sound perfect? Why do we act smarter than others? Why do we act as though we have the corner on truth? Why are emotions dismissed as the trappings of our flesh while logical intellectual thinking is upheld as the way to find God? And really, if we are all so darn post-modern in our thinking why the heck don't I fit in better?
I feel like half the time we are simply chasing after whatever the "new" thing is. Right now it is cool to be "different"... cool to "rebel" against the traditional church. And while I completely agree that church needs a full overhaul I do NOT agree with my generations penchant for simply ditching when things don't go their way. If you are not a part of a local body of believers in a regular and meaningful way than you simply do not have the right to complain about it. HOW you participate is up to you but don't bash other's honest attempts to serve God.
I know there is plenty to complain about but being a judgemental ass goes both ways. Christians are accused of judging those outside of the church but I PROMISE you as one who grew up on the other side that the judgement goes both ways.
We are human. We pretty much suck. But God loves us anyway inspite of our failure to really figure things out. I am an introvert at heart. I worship best when I am alone. The corporate worship experience is challenging for me... at best. But I believe that God created us for community. I know that our individualistic Western culture does not help with that. But still I try. Not because it is a "rule" but because I know that God has called me NOT to be a complete hermit.
I think that post-moderns are more concerned with social justice issues and environmental issues than the generations before us. I think we are striving for authenticity. I think we are slowly changing church. I think our natural disposition toward relativism causes a lot of us a good amount of confusion.
And I think that is enough ramblings from me.
Postmodernism?
I realize that the push is for practical answers to Trevor's question, but first let me talk about postmodernism for a second.
I don't think I see postmodernism in the same way as Colin. I guess there is that aspect which includes the rejection of one over-arching belief that governs all cultures, all people, but I'm not sure that's even the case anymore. I think postmodernism has lost that overt feature and turned to a sort of pluralistic humanism. But that's a term we don't need to get into.
I think there are some great things about our times we would do well to integrate without selling the farm for:
Ecological concern: Genesis had the inconvenient truth way before Gore.
Social concern: Isaiah had it a long time ago, and more extreme than many have dared.
Community and dialogue: Better and more appropriate ends than personal piety and isolated and presumptuous certainty.
Future-orientation: We are working toward something, longing for something.
Suspicion of power and the always potentially manipulative nature of language: Let's not play those games.
Even the loss of "metanarrative": While I agree with Colin that it would be un-Christian to let go of the idea of an over-arching "story", there is still something refreshing about the postmodern realization that this story does not begin and end with the "development" of the Western world. There are many facets to this over-arching Christian story. The Triune God likes diversity in unity.
In the end, what do I think the postmodern Christian looks like in action? In the areas Trevor referred to, if we could be more like the ancient one would be fine by me.
Devotions? Back in the day they didn't have their own Bibles. They read the Bible together. We have our own Bibles now, great, but we should still read them together. Bring your insights from personal "devotions" and prayer, but bring them together. Talk about them on the streets, in the church. For God's sake let's talk about the Bible again in the church.
Prayer? That's a tough one. I'm still working on prayer. I like the Lord's Prayer and I value thanks and confession. That's about all I got.
Missions? I think evangelicals are pretty good at this. I don't like that altar call based mission, which is all about the hit and run for the quick conversion prayer, but plenty of evangelicals past and present have transcended that and I think this is a strength that bears continuing. Plenty of organizations combine social gospel with spoken gospel and that's great.
Living around 'non Christians'? I'm all for it. Enough hiding and sheltering. Get in there. Don't even be too sure you've got your label right either. Talk with people about life. What matters. Expect to hear from the Spirit at work around you. Love. Live. Don't pretend to be something you are not. Lament with people. Discuss the hope you hold. Apologize when you suck. Forgive. Seek to be an ambassador of reconciliation, not your own righteousness. Period.
I don't think I see postmodernism in the same way as Colin. I guess there is that aspect which includes the rejection of one over-arching belief that governs all cultures, all people, but I'm not sure that's even the case anymore. I think postmodernism has lost that overt feature and turned to a sort of pluralistic humanism. But that's a term we don't need to get into.
I think there are some great things about our times we would do well to integrate without selling the farm for:
Ecological concern: Genesis had the inconvenient truth way before Gore.
Social concern: Isaiah had it a long time ago, and more extreme than many have dared.
Community and dialogue: Better and more appropriate ends than personal piety and isolated and presumptuous certainty.
Future-orientation: We are working toward something, longing for something.
Suspicion of power and the always potentially manipulative nature of language: Let's not play those games.
Even the loss of "metanarrative": While I agree with Colin that it would be un-Christian to let go of the idea of an over-arching "story", there is still something refreshing about the postmodern realization that this story does not begin and end with the "development" of the Western world. There are many facets to this over-arching Christian story. The Triune God likes diversity in unity.
In the end, what do I think the postmodern Christian looks like in action? In the areas Trevor referred to, if we could be more like the ancient one would be fine by me.
Devotions? Back in the day they didn't have their own Bibles. They read the Bible together. We have our own Bibles now, great, but we should still read them together. Bring your insights from personal "devotions" and prayer, but bring them together. Talk about them on the streets, in the church. For God's sake let's talk about the Bible again in the church.
Prayer? That's a tough one. I'm still working on prayer. I like the Lord's Prayer and I value thanks and confession. That's about all I got.
Missions? I think evangelicals are pretty good at this. I don't like that altar call based mission, which is all about the hit and run for the quick conversion prayer, but plenty of evangelicals past and present have transcended that and I think this is a strength that bears continuing. Plenty of organizations combine social gospel with spoken gospel and that's great.
Living around 'non Christians'? I'm all for it. Enough hiding and sheltering. Get in there. Don't even be too sure you've got your label right either. Talk with people about life. What matters. Expect to hear from the Spirit at work around you. Love. Live. Don't pretend to be something you are not. Lament with people. Discuss the hope you hold. Apologize when you suck. Forgive. Seek to be an ambassador of reconciliation, not your own righteousness. Period.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The Post-Modern Christian in Action
I'm not sure whether or not I have the authority to start a new question, but here I am doing it anyway. If he doesn't like it, Toffelguy can just delete it. My question is this: What does the 'post-modern christian' look like in action? As a fundementalist Evangelical, my main thoughts were generally always focused on evangelism and missions, missions, and more missions. The general feeling I get from fundamentalist evangelicals (even today when I went to church) is that evangelism and missions is pretty much the main focus of our action in the world. Would this be any different for the post-modern Christian? Also, what does the post-modern christian look like as far as spiritual practices go? Do we still do devotions, how do we pray, how do we relate to 'non-christians', how do we teach our children about God, in what ways do we worship? This is a somewhat less technical question, but one that is very important as we hit the ground.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Trevor's Garbled Point of View
I have already fielded this question somewhat on my blog with the post called Divine Inspiration which you can all read if you like. Since most of my thoughts are already there, I will be brief here and add only a couple of things.
In a nutshell, I believe that the Bible is God revealing himself to us through the writings of the authors. I also believe that since the Bible was written by humans, it is inevitably fallible and susceptible to each particular author's point of view and bias. I believe that one must be careful to interpret the text within the cultural context that it was written in, including the religio-cultural context. I believe that God did reveal himself to the people of the time of the writing of each particular book of the Bible and that he may have even used the particular religious ritual preferences of the culture to reveal himself. Thus, I don't think that all of the rites and rituals laid out in the Bible (including NT stuff) are prescriptive for how we should practice Christianity today.
Not to say that we can't use those things, but I would not say they are truly necessary. For example, I see the rite of baptism being analagous to the near death experience initiation rite of the mystery cults of the time. However, I believe God used this common ritual that was well understood by the masses to speak to and relate to humanity. Another example would be the sacrificial system of the Israelites. This again seems to be God using a common ritual that was already in place to speak to his people.
As for what I do think the Bible is useful for, please see the aforementioned post on Divine Inspiration. Although, perhaps my view has changed since then, as it seems to morph daily.
As an aside, I am currently reading (or rather very quickly perusing) a book by Roger Oakland called 'Faith Undone'. This book is basically his attempt at convincing Christians that the emerging church movement is an "end-times deception." One point of his that fits in with this discussion was regarding yoga. He said Christians should not practice yoga at all, as it has its roots in Hindu religion. He views the idea of using yoga for Christian purposes (ie: thinking about the Holy Spirit entering you while you breathe in, and exhaling all those things which are impure) as having no part in Christianity. To this I would respond that the history of Christianity, even in the Bible, is fraught with borrowed religious practices. If a certain thing, such as yoga, brings a Christian closer to God, I see no problem with it. This is only one example, but throughout Oakland's book he uses scripture again and again to prove points about specific examples in our current culture (like yoga), using verses that really have no bearing on the subject. That's my rant about Roger Oakland.
Having said all that, I do believe that the Bible is important for our faith and can speak to us and help to shape our lives. However, I would not call it ultimate truth by which all things in life can be measured. It is subject to interpretation and I would never presume to be the one with the rights to the mind of God by which my interpretation is the interpretation.
Disclaimer: I am currently battling some sort of illness, thereby I would imagine that some of my thoughts here are not entirely coherent or possibly entirely wacked out...niner... double pumper turbo the other....
In a nutshell, I believe that the Bible is God revealing himself to us through the writings of the authors. I also believe that since the Bible was written by humans, it is inevitably fallible and susceptible to each particular author's point of view and bias. I believe that one must be careful to interpret the text within the cultural context that it was written in, including the religio-cultural context. I believe that God did reveal himself to the people of the time of the writing of each particular book of the Bible and that he may have even used the particular religious ritual preferences of the culture to reveal himself. Thus, I don't think that all of the rites and rituals laid out in the Bible (including NT stuff) are prescriptive for how we should practice Christianity today.
Not to say that we can't use those things, but I would not say they are truly necessary. For example, I see the rite of baptism being analagous to the near death experience initiation rite of the mystery cults of the time. However, I believe God used this common ritual that was well understood by the masses to speak to and relate to humanity. Another example would be the sacrificial system of the Israelites. This again seems to be God using a common ritual that was already in place to speak to his people.
As for what I do think the Bible is useful for, please see the aforementioned post on Divine Inspiration. Although, perhaps my view has changed since then, as it seems to morph daily.
As an aside, I am currently reading (or rather very quickly perusing) a book by Roger Oakland called 'Faith Undone'. This book is basically his attempt at convincing Christians that the emerging church movement is an "end-times deception." One point of his that fits in with this discussion was regarding yoga. He said Christians should not practice yoga at all, as it has its roots in Hindu religion. He views the idea of using yoga for Christian purposes (ie: thinking about the Holy Spirit entering you while you breathe in, and exhaling all those things which are impure) as having no part in Christianity. To this I would respond that the history of Christianity, even in the Bible, is fraught with borrowed religious practices. If a certain thing, such as yoga, brings a Christian closer to God, I see no problem with it. This is only one example, but throughout Oakland's book he uses scripture again and again to prove points about specific examples in our current culture (like yoga), using verses that really have no bearing on the subject. That's my rant about Roger Oakland.
Having said all that, I do believe that the Bible is important for our faith and can speak to us and help to shape our lives. However, I would not call it ultimate truth by which all things in life can be measured. It is subject to interpretation and I would never presume to be the one with the rights to the mind of God by which my interpretation is the interpretation.
Disclaimer: I am currently battling some sort of illness, thereby I would imagine that some of my thoughts here are not entirely coherent or possibly entirely wacked out...niner... double pumper turbo the other....
Sorry for being so late to this question. I have this bad habit of remembering that I want to do this.
Ahhh, the Bible - beater of people, backer-uper of personal hobby horses, proof-texter and conversation ender.... what an incredible animal you are. Oh right, I forgot to mention the good uses....
Working in a church, or with Christians, or in North America, I'm a bit tired of how others use the Bible. It seems to me that many misunderstand the purpose of the Bible (just call me captain obvious), or at the very least, have gross misunderstandings of how it is to be read and applied. How often do I find myself wailing and gnashing my teeth, blubbering the words "CONTEXT.....Context....context." I'll try and put my jadedness aside for a while - althought this is getting harder with time.
I find myself less concerned with the question "Is it true", although I only mean this in certain regards. Hmmmm....to expand - does it matter if Genesis 1-3 was a poem or fact? Or if 2 different historical accounts of how many people fought are congruent (I just used congruent so I could sound smart - I've got to find a way to keep up with all these PhD's)? I find myself agreeing with Dustin and Jon in many ways. Does the human element of the Bible detract from its inerrancy? What really is inerrancy? I find more in life I'm taking a bigger and bigger picture view. More like life at 30,000ft instead of 10ft (which I'm already pretty close to at 6'2"). I find the Bible to be a lifechanging book. It challenges me to the core, or rather often I ignore what could be a challenge to the core. I guess this is what the "proof" is for me - that the Bible, or God through the Bible, challenges and changes me immensely (when I take the time to allow it to). At the end of the day, I find living closely to what the Bible teaches to make me better in every regard. More caring, loving, better husband, more generous, more faithful, better father.
That is all I have in my brain today....
Scott
Ahhh, the Bible - beater of people, backer-uper of personal hobby horses, proof-texter and conversation ender.... what an incredible animal you are. Oh right, I forgot to mention the good uses....
Working in a church, or with Christians, or in North America, I'm a bit tired of how others use the Bible. It seems to me that many misunderstand the purpose of the Bible (just call me captain obvious), or at the very least, have gross misunderstandings of how it is to be read and applied. How often do I find myself wailing and gnashing my teeth, blubbering the words "CONTEXT.....Context....context." I'll try and put my jadedness aside for a while - althought this is getting harder with time.
I find myself less concerned with the question "Is it true", although I only mean this in certain regards. Hmmmm....to expand - does it matter if Genesis 1-3 was a poem or fact? Or if 2 different historical accounts of how many people fought are congruent (I just used congruent so I could sound smart - I've got to find a way to keep up with all these PhD's)? I find myself agreeing with Dustin and Jon in many ways. Does the human element of the Bible detract from its inerrancy? What really is inerrancy? I find more in life I'm taking a bigger and bigger picture view. More like life at 30,000ft instead of 10ft (which I'm already pretty close to at 6'2"). I find the Bible to be a lifechanging book. It challenges me to the core, or rather often I ignore what could be a challenge to the core. I guess this is what the "proof" is for me - that the Bible, or God through the Bible, challenges and changes me immensely (when I take the time to allow it to). At the end of the day, I find living closely to what the Bible teaches to make me better in every regard. More caring, loving, better husband, more generous, more faithful, better father.
That is all I have in my brain today....
Scott
Further Thoughts on Scripture
Commenting on Scripture is tough. It is tough because we are so used to treating a doctrine of Scripture and a hermeneutical theory as a foundation upon which we might construct our belief and theology. I think that the last two hundred years of biblical criticism have shown that to be a dead end. And so, the first thing that I want to say about Scripture is that my convictions about the Bible are derived from much broader convictions about God, his self-revelation, his Spirit and his people. These broader convictions, within which I come to an understanding of the Bible, owe themselves to the fundamental witness made by the Bible itself to its subject matter, God in his self-revelation. Thus, I view the Bible primarily theologically, as Holy Scripture, rather than philosophically/hermeneutically as a “text” (though it is that), or historically as a “source” (though it is that too).
At the risk of appearing overly simplistic, I continue to believe that the Bible is best understood as “God’s written Word.” To this short definition all sorts of nuances and clarifications can and should be offered. Regardless, I think that the description of the Bible as “God’s Word” is absolutely essential. It means that God addresses himself to us in Scripture in a way not done through other means. In Scripture we hear something more than an echo of ancient culture, outdated ideas, or even our own voices (though we may hear these things too). Rather, in Scripture, the Church hears, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, God’s Word. Apart from this conviction, the Church, and indeed each individual, is thrown back upon themselves and their own meager spiritual resources in the knowledge of God and his grace. This I cannot accept. To do so would compromise God as “wholly other,” the conviction that humanity is finite and sinful, and, ultimately, the mediation of Christ.
I also want to echo something that Jon mentioned, though I think I may be a little more sympathetic to the term sola scriptura than he. When I read the great defenders of sola scriptura (Luther, Calvin, and even Zwingli), I find myself agreeing with them that Scripture is indeed the sole authority in the Church. But it is specifically the Church’s Scripture. That means that the Bible is still the final measure (canon) by which all belief and practice must be measured, but it is so for a particular people: the Church. I quite like Jon’s note about how Scripture came to us through the Church (canonization) and is transmitted to us by the Church (tradition), rather than in a vacuum. These are important qualifications. Yet even granting these qualifications, it is God speaking his Word through Scripture by his Spirit that functions as the definitive communication of God to the Church.
This is where I find myself disagreeing with the idea of a “norming norm.” God speaking through Scripture is not, in my mind, one authority among others. It is in fact the sole authority around which the Church gathers to hear God’s Word. The Church is important, not as a second “lesser” source of authority alongside of Scripture but in its entirely different role as “hearer of the Word.” In the Church we hear with the hearers who have gone before and accompany us. In this good company I have help, though not a guarantee, that my own voice does not become substituted for the voice of God. In practice, this means that I read Scripture with a “bias” to the creeds and confessions of the Church. Before I dare venture my own “improved” reading of Scripture, I want to be sure that I have exhausted the potential of readings that have been found compelling by my fellow hearers. Perhaps that makes me rather conservative. I'm okay with that. But I’m not shutting the door to new light coming from God through the Scripture. I just want to do my best to admit that others before and around me have seen that Light too.
At the risk of appearing overly simplistic, I continue to believe that the Bible is best understood as “God’s written Word.” To this short definition all sorts of nuances and clarifications can and should be offered. Regardless, I think that the description of the Bible as “God’s Word” is absolutely essential. It means that God addresses himself to us in Scripture in a way not done through other means. In Scripture we hear something more than an echo of ancient culture, outdated ideas, or even our own voices (though we may hear these things too). Rather, in Scripture, the Church hears, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, God’s Word. Apart from this conviction, the Church, and indeed each individual, is thrown back upon themselves and their own meager spiritual resources in the knowledge of God and his grace. This I cannot accept. To do so would compromise God as “wholly other,” the conviction that humanity is finite and sinful, and, ultimately, the mediation of Christ.
I also want to echo something that Jon mentioned, though I think I may be a little more sympathetic to the term sola scriptura than he. When I read the great defenders of sola scriptura (Luther, Calvin, and even Zwingli), I find myself agreeing with them that Scripture is indeed the sole authority in the Church. But it is specifically the Church’s Scripture. That means that the Bible is still the final measure (canon) by which all belief and practice must be measured, but it is so for a particular people: the Church. I quite like Jon’s note about how Scripture came to us through the Church (canonization) and is transmitted to us by the Church (tradition), rather than in a vacuum. These are important qualifications. Yet even granting these qualifications, it is God speaking his Word through Scripture by his Spirit that functions as the definitive communication of God to the Church.
This is where I find myself disagreeing with the idea of a “norming norm.” God speaking through Scripture is not, in my mind, one authority among others. It is in fact the sole authority around which the Church gathers to hear God’s Word. The Church is important, not as a second “lesser” source of authority alongside of Scripture but in its entirely different role as “hearer of the Word.” In the Church we hear with the hearers who have gone before and accompany us. In this good company I have help, though not a guarantee, that my own voice does not become substituted for the voice of God. In practice, this means that I read Scripture with a “bias” to the creeds and confessions of the Church. Before I dare venture my own “improved” reading of Scripture, I want to be sure that I have exhausted the potential of readings that have been found compelling by my fellow hearers. Perhaps that makes me rather conservative. I'm okay with that. But I’m not shutting the door to new light coming from God through the Scripture. I just want to do my best to admit that others before and around me have seen that Light too.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Preliminary Thoughts on the Bible
I do believe in one sense in sola scriptura and I do believe in the authority of the Bible. But I don't think it is so simple as that. I think sola scriptura was a useful thing in its time (fighting the abuses of church authority and the oppressive measures of holding church rites over people's heads in a manipulative way because they felt they needed those things for salvation). But I'm not sure how useful or helpful it is now.
There is no such thing as sola scriptura, really. It didn't show up from outer space or appear in a vacuum sealed tube. It came in the Church and is passed on in the Church and is heard and listened to in the context of an interpretive community and always with the aid of reason and experience.
Which leaves us asking about authority. But the Scripture itself points to Jesus as the authority, so that's sort of a no-brainer isn't it? Except He isn't really here in the same way the Bible is. I do believe that the Bible is our "norming norm" (Grenz) of all those other potential authorities mentioned above. They work together within Christ's authority as a witness to him. Clearly Scripture is the best and most reliable one we have.
As for infallibility, I have a hard time understanding how words themselves can be infallible. I do think the Bible a reliable and true witness and that it is sufficient. All that doesn't diminish but exclaims how amazing it is. It is this living and active presence of God to us, it is a gracious miracle of God's communication to us, and is as sacred a thing we have.
Even though we do not have the originals, it has been a point well made that we probably have something better: enough ancient documentation to piece together a 99.8% degree of accuracy of what the originals said without giving us the chance to be idolaters of some 2000 year old parchment (we have enough bibliolatry today as it is). I think the very transmission of the text into our hands is something of a miracle befitting the way God wanted us to get it (through Church participation and through sincere effort and collaboration). We can't read the Scriptures without entering in some way (even unconsciously) the dialogue of thousands of years. That's awesome.
I do feel that I encounter God when I read the Bible. I look to it as the standard bearer for truth, and consider it the book of books. It is a gift from God. I do not want to say it is fully human and fully divine (because it is neither a human nor a god) but as a descriptor I think it has those connotations. It is the Word of God in human words; the best ones possible. As words, they require Spirit, church, reason, and experience to understand and live.
This is our best and most reliable witness to Christ. I think translators (into other languages) are doing some of the most important work around.
There is no such thing as sola scriptura, really. It didn't show up from outer space or appear in a vacuum sealed tube. It came in the Church and is passed on in the Church and is heard and listened to in the context of an interpretive community and always with the aid of reason and experience.
Which leaves us asking about authority. But the Scripture itself points to Jesus as the authority, so that's sort of a no-brainer isn't it? Except He isn't really here in the same way the Bible is. I do believe that the Bible is our "norming norm" (Grenz) of all those other potential authorities mentioned above. They work together within Christ's authority as a witness to him. Clearly Scripture is the best and most reliable one we have.
As for infallibility, I have a hard time understanding how words themselves can be infallible. I do think the Bible a reliable and true witness and that it is sufficient. All that doesn't diminish but exclaims how amazing it is. It is this living and active presence of God to us, it is a gracious miracle of God's communication to us, and is as sacred a thing we have.
Even though we do not have the originals, it has been a point well made that we probably have something better: enough ancient documentation to piece together a 99.8% degree of accuracy of what the originals said without giving us the chance to be idolaters of some 2000 year old parchment (we have enough bibliolatry today as it is). I think the very transmission of the text into our hands is something of a miracle befitting the way God wanted us to get it (through Church participation and through sincere effort and collaboration). We can't read the Scriptures without entering in some way (even unconsciously) the dialogue of thousands of years. That's awesome.
I do feel that I encounter God when I read the Bible. I look to it as the standard bearer for truth, and consider it the book of books. It is a gift from God. I do not want to say it is fully human and fully divine (because it is neither a human nor a god) but as a descriptor I think it has those connotations. It is the Word of God in human words; the best ones possible. As words, they require Spirit, church, reason, and experience to understand and live.
This is our best and most reliable witness to Christ. I think translators (into other languages) are doing some of the most important work around.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Question #2...
My apologies for being scarce the past week or so. I have been alternately deathly ill or crashing deadlines (or both). My brief intro is below, feel free to peruse it at your leisure. The real business of the day is, however, Question #2. I've hummed and hahed about this a fair bit, unsure of which can of worms to open first. All in all this is the one that I think touches on the widest variety of problematic issues. So here we go:
What is the Bible? How does it work? In what way is it meaningful (or is it meaningful)? In what way(s) is it true (or not true)?
What is the Bible? How does it work? In what way is it meaningful (or is it meaningful)? In what way(s) is it true (or not true)?
into something rich and strange...
Like Jon and Trev I'm a lifetime evangelical Christian. Trev and I actually grew up in the same church so if you're looking for a sense of my early years, feel free to read his opening paragraph or two and just extrapolate.
For most of my life I had it in my head to be a pastor in a church. I never really had any other goals. So I went to Bible College when I was 18. I simply assumed that Bible College would be a breeze and that I'd know everything that needed knowing. Anyone who knew me then will be able to tell you that I was an arrogant tool an awful lot of the time (and anyone who knows me now will probably say little has changed ;) ). In any case, I did not expect to be challenged in real and meaningful ways.
I expect that most non-Christians or Christians from more liberal traditions would be surprised to know that the professors that work at an awful lot of conservative Bible Colleges in North America are very talented, well educated, and insightful people. That was (and is) certainly the case at Canadian Bible College (now Ambrose University College). I discovered at college that a lot of my firmly held beliefs about the world were not so monolithic as I had imagined. It's hard to say for sure, but I think that had I gone to a secular university I would have become very defensive about many of my fundamentalist beliefs and would not have been challenged all that much. At Bible College, however, my defenses were down. My professors and friends were all Christians and so I expected them to agree with me about everything. When they didn't I found the experience very, very unsettling. There are simply too many stories from that first year or two to tell here, but I will tell the one that I think changed me in the most profound way.
I can never quite remember if it was my first or second year, but I think it was year one. For some reason the issue of the role of women in the church was a really big deal to me then. I was, at the time, strongly convinced that women should not teach, or have any authority at all in the church, and that women should be subservient to their husbands in the home. I felt this very strongly. It seemed to me that any other position represented a departure from the Bible as inspired truth, and that was unacceptable.
One morning at breakfast in the cafeteria I was sitting with a group of friends from my home church. We were talking about our friends back home and the Bible study group they were forming now that they were finished with high-school youth-group. My friend K (for so I shall call her for this post) was so proud of her friends, two young women, who were leading the group. Naturally, as a budding hierarchicalist I found this idea appalling. Those two women shouldn't have be leading the group, one of the men should have been. So that's what I said. I was completely astonished at the vehemence of K's response. She was terribly angry and upset with me and we had a fairly unpleasant argument there in the cafeteria before she left, clearly exasperated with me and tired of my presence. A few hours later she called me and we sat down to talk about the whole issue again. This time she put up with me for longer, giving me the opportunity to say some truly hurtful things, and even to make her cry (which made me cry I think too). It was fantastic. That was the first time that I realized that I was kind of a bastard,* and that there was very little love or grace involved in my conception of God or of Christ, and thus of Christianity in general. I thought in terms of logic and rules, and so that is how I conceived of God. That conversation with K, though the consequences were long in coming, fundamentally altered the way that I thought.
I realized that I didn't want to be mean spirited, and I also realized that there were other honest, well-meaning, intelligent Christians in the world who disagreed with me. I couldn't paint them all as stupid or ignorant and so I couldn't simply ignore them. It was the first time that I truly realized that love must be the first rule of all conversations, even debates or disagreements. That love, that deep respect for the other as a person, is central to the Gospel of Christ as I have slowly been realizing. For me, at that time in my life, this was a sea change. It was the first time in my life that I thought it might be better to be kind than to be right.
*Please don't take this to mean that I believe anyone who is not an egalitarian is a bastard. This is a personal account and, while others may express views with which I disagree in an honest and loving way, I know my own heart from that time and the statement is, I assure you, true.
For most of my life I had it in my head to be a pastor in a church. I never really had any other goals. So I went to Bible College when I was 18. I simply assumed that Bible College would be a breeze and that I'd know everything that needed knowing. Anyone who knew me then will be able to tell you that I was an arrogant tool an awful lot of the time (and anyone who knows me now will probably say little has changed ;) ). In any case, I did not expect to be challenged in real and meaningful ways.
I expect that most non-Christians or Christians from more liberal traditions would be surprised to know that the professors that work at an awful lot of conservative Bible Colleges in North America are very talented, well educated, and insightful people. That was (and is) certainly the case at Canadian Bible College (now Ambrose University College). I discovered at college that a lot of my firmly held beliefs about the world were not so monolithic as I had imagined. It's hard to say for sure, but I think that had I gone to a secular university I would have become very defensive about many of my fundamentalist beliefs and would not have been challenged all that much. At Bible College, however, my defenses were down. My professors and friends were all Christians and so I expected them to agree with me about everything. When they didn't I found the experience very, very unsettling. There are simply too many stories from that first year or two to tell here, but I will tell the one that I think changed me in the most profound way.
I can never quite remember if it was my first or second year, but I think it was year one. For some reason the issue of the role of women in the church was a really big deal to me then. I was, at the time, strongly convinced that women should not teach, or have any authority at all in the church, and that women should be subservient to their husbands in the home. I felt this very strongly. It seemed to me that any other position represented a departure from the Bible as inspired truth, and that was unacceptable.
One morning at breakfast in the cafeteria I was sitting with a group of friends from my home church. We were talking about our friends back home and the Bible study group they were forming now that they were finished with high-school youth-group. My friend K (for so I shall call her for this post) was so proud of her friends, two young women, who were leading the group. Naturally, as a budding hierarchicalist I found this idea appalling. Those two women shouldn't have be leading the group, one of the men should have been. So that's what I said. I was completely astonished at the vehemence of K's response. She was terribly angry and upset with me and we had a fairly unpleasant argument there in the cafeteria before she left, clearly exasperated with me and tired of my presence. A few hours later she called me and we sat down to talk about the whole issue again. This time she put up with me for longer, giving me the opportunity to say some truly hurtful things, and even to make her cry (which made me cry I think too). It was fantastic. That was the first time that I realized that I was kind of a bastard,* and that there was very little love or grace involved in my conception of God or of Christ, and thus of Christianity in general. I thought in terms of logic and rules, and so that is how I conceived of God. That conversation with K, though the consequences were long in coming, fundamentally altered the way that I thought.
I realized that I didn't want to be mean spirited, and I also realized that there were other honest, well-meaning, intelligent Christians in the world who disagreed with me. I couldn't paint them all as stupid or ignorant and so I couldn't simply ignore them. It was the first time that I truly realized that love must be the first rule of all conversations, even debates or disagreements. That love, that deep respect for the other as a person, is central to the Gospel of Christ as I have slowly been realizing. For me, at that time in my life, this was a sea change. It was the first time in my life that I thought it might be better to be kind than to be right.
*Please don't take this to mean that I believe anyone who is not an egalitarian is a bastard. This is a personal account and, while others may express views with which I disagree in an honest and loving way, I know my own heart from that time and the statement is, I assure you, true.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Ummmm, Excuse me...
Hey Toffelguy, I thought you said you had some questions to get us started out here. What's the hold up Mr. Phd no time for the little guy bloggers type person!
That is all.
p.s. I am very excited because my very first issue of the Journal of Near Eastern Studies was just handed to me by my wife!!! I subscribed mainly to have access to their back issues online but this is an added bonus. TEE HEE (a la little school girl)
That is all.
p.s. I am very excited because my very first issue of the Journal of Near Eastern Studies was just handed to me by my wife!!! I subscribed mainly to have access to their back issues online but this is an added bonus. TEE HEE (a la little school girl)
Friday, October 24, 2008
And now for something completely different...
Hi. I'm Tara.
I am a pastor's wife and stay at home mom to three kids. My husband Doug pastor's a small Alliance church here in northeastern Saskatchewan. Our town is teeny tiny. My son Aiden is 6, my son Owen is 5 and my daughter Olivia turns 2 in 6 weeks. My mom lives in our basement.
My journey to faith has been... well... odd.
I was raised by a pot-smoking, card carrying feminist, hippy single mother... who also happened to be a rebellious pastor's kid. My mom was 32 years old when I came along and she had been trying to have a baby for over 6 years. So although I was a surprise, she was thrilled. I had a good childhood. I was loved.
It was different.
But still good.
I was taught about God. I was also taught about various new age and eastern philosophies.
My grandparents and my Aunt & Uncle were both in ministry (both Alliance pastors) and they prayed for me daily.
God protected me from a whole lot. I was never all that interested in joining the lifestyle of my mom and her friends. I became a Christian, for the first time, when I was four. Apparently I had been playing alone in my room and I came out and informed my mom that Jesus lived in my heart. I have no recollection of this.
My mom would occassionally send me to Sunday School but certainly nothing regularly.
We moved constantly. At LEAST once per year. Different schools, different homes, different friends every few months. My dad was never around. My mom got married when I was nine. Step-dad was a schizophrenic artist. (no, I'm not kidding). Mom got divorced when I was 10.
When I entered junior high we moved to Edmonton. My Uncle was pastoring a church there and I began attending regularly. I think I mostly did it to tick my mom off. I found the Christian subculture exceedingly difficult to break into and understand. At one point I was accused of being drunk at youth group... I wasn't. I didn't drink. In all truth and reality I was just acting dumb which is an ailment most 13 year old girls possess. As a result two girls in youth group were no longer allowed to be my friend. They never spoke to me again.
People, that is messed up.
Anyway, I prayed the prayer of salvation EVERY NIGHT at LEAST 5 or 10 times for about 3 years during junior high. I'm not kidding. I had absolutely ZERO assurance of salvation. It became a mantra of sorts for me. I remember thinking that if I just said it often enough and sincerely enough maybe it would finally work.
When I was 14 my mom had a heart attack. This was a huge turning point in both my life and my mother's. She returned to the faith of her childhood and I found assurance of Salvation. But that period of time was intensely difficult for both of us.
High school was tough.
There were lots of good things- My mom was a secretary for a church and I was deeply involved in the life of the church. I even went on an amazing life changing teen missions trip to Kathmandu, Nepal. Everyone should see real poverty at least once in their lives.
I was also baptized... all I remember from that experience was being terrified of sharing my testimony in front of those thousand people sitting their staring at me.
There were also a whole lot of bad things. In church I had unkind things said to me like "well, we can't expect much from you considering how you have been raised". I am a VERY perceptive person and I KNEW people were treating me differently than the kids who grew up in church. Not that they tried too hard to hide that fact.
At this point I just need to share a small story. During my very first visit to a new church (a HUGE MASSIVE church) I sat with a friend from school. There was a lot about the service I didn't understand and I kept asking my friend questions. I asked who the guy talking was, I asked why there were 15 people on the stage for singing time, I asked all sorts of things which my friend graciously answered for me. After the service we were approached by a lady in her 50's. She said "I want you to know that you two were very rude and disrespectful. I brought a friend to church today and she couldn't concentrate because of you two. You need to learn to behave in church" then she huffed away. I was HORRIFIED that I had been bad at church. That woman successfully made me feel like a misfit on my first day at church.
Don't be like that.
There were other really miserable things in highschool. I managed to find a boyfriend from church who was abusive and told me that it was ok because he knew God better than I did. I believed him and learned to "submit". He ditched me and I felt lost and even more unaccepted in church. When I was with him people had been nice to me. Now I was back to being looked down on. I learned quickly that it didn't matter what people were really like, it only mattered what how they appeared and how able to fake it they were. If you were too honest and too real you weren't accepted. Plain and Simple. I spent my years trying desperately to fit in, to fake it enough to be accepted.
I was intenseley depressed.
Highschool blissfully ended and things rapidly improved! The summer after grade 12 I got a phone call from Capernwray Harbour Bible Centre. They said "Someone has annonymously paid for a full year, room and board and tuition, at our school. Would you like to come?". I jumped at the chance to escape my world!
I spent two incredible years at Capernwray (a different person paid for my full second year). In this time God taught me how to care more about what HE thought than what church thought. He healed many of my heart wounds. The professors actually listened to me and answered my questions.
Capernwray was God's place of healing for me. I still have friends from my time there. It was great because the place was just filled with people who didn't fit in church! I wasn't the only one! It really was an incredible blessing for me. And the best part is that God knew I never could have afforded to go on my own so he paid for me to go! God was totally taking care of me and I have never forgotten that.
After Capernwray I re-entered the world of church sub-culture by attending Canadian Bible College (now Ambrose University). It was tough but an excellent training ground for my present life as a pastor's wife.
I LOVED the classes. I drank up the teaching like I was dying of thirst. I LOVED being able to ask my questions and dialogueing with the professors and other students. It was amazing. And no, I didn't understand everything and I didn't even necessarily agree with everything... but that wasn't the point. God had healed my heart enough during my years at Capernwray so that I was ABLE to learn at CBC.
I met and married my fabulous husband. My husband who was raised in a lovely Christian home and grew up in church and was becoming a pastor. I thought God had gone stark raving mad when he paired the two of us up. But it was exactly what we both needed- two different perspectives coming together to try and make this church thing work.
We have been in church ministry for almost 9 years now. It has been tough for me, learning to navigate church culture as the pastor's wife. I have learned that I am incapable of pretending to be the perfect pastor's wife... plus God doesn't want me to. So I strive for reality. To let people see me as I really am. And boy oh boy do I get in trouble for it.
I seem to regularly tick people off.
When I was struggling through my 3 bouts of post partum depression I was ridiculed for being honest about it (pastor's wives shouldn't struggle), for taking medication (if I really had faith God would be enough), for just generally sucking at life. When my first son was born he was severely colicky and would cry for 10 -12 hours per day (no, I am not exaggerating). I had SEVERE post partum depression. At one point I went to the elder's board to get prayed for. They prayed that I would adjust to motherhood and learn to be a better mother.
I was crushed. The prayers were cruel and judgemental. Even my husband was horrified. I vowed to never get prayed for by an elder's board again, I was so hurt and demoralized.
I have recovered - realizing anew that God loved me and knew my heart even if they didn't.
There have been many ups and downs over the years. Lately people get mad at me for blogging. For being too honest. Apparently it is behaviour unbecoming of a pastor's wife. sigh. And for arguing in favour of women in ministry. And for saying the church should be more involved in the community and in social justice.
Like I said I get in trouble really a lot.
But I carry on with my honesty because people need it. This world needs more honesty. I am blessed daily by the people who read my blog and send me emails and comments. God has called me to be ME. It's all I can do. And I believe I am where God has called me to be.
At one point in my life (before children) I was pretty academic. Actually I was a complete nerd. And I loved it. I pretty much wanted to be in school forever. Aiden was a surprise and so I became a mom instead of getting my masters degree. God knew what He was doing. Being a mom has made me think more practically and learn to communicate to the non-academic members of my life. It has been a good thing.
I still have loads of questions. I wonder constantly how we can make church relevant in our time.
My son Aiden is in the process of being diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder. People have been cruelly judgemental to him and to us. He doesn't behave normally. He gets frustrated easily and lashes out. He feels intense emotion and anger. He has trouble fitting in to our world. He is a wondeful lesson about how differently people are made, about accepting people where they are at. Accepting them and loving them and not trying to push them into a mold simply to make ourselves more comfortable.
We have been gossiped about, judged to be poor parents because of the behaviour of our son.
Don't be like that people.
Now that a real doctor says Aiden has a legitimate reason to act the way he does people have been slightly kinder. Which only proves to me how cruel church can be for the misfits amongst us. The ones who destroy the image of perfection so many strive to uphold. You can only be different if you have a note from the doctor.
And so I carry on, learning to listen to God instead of the cacophony of voices around me.
How's that for an intro? :)
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Dustin's Intro
For those who came to this blog and want to read far more interesting journeys than mine, which is posted immediately below, please be sure to jump down to the much more “existentially aware” intros of Jon, Trevor, and Scott.
You’ve got to admit, it’s kinda funny that we began this blog on evangelicalism with personal testimonies….
(…Cue “Just as I am.”)
In all likelihood, I am the least known participants in this group, though I think I have some small connection to a few of you in one way or another. I grew up on the Canadian prairies and did not become interested in Christianity and the like until well into my teen years. My first exposure to such things was through an evangelical youth group (C&MA, actually) by which I was formed through the usual suspects: DC Talk, Wednesday night Bible-studies, and The Princess Bride. After high school I completed a BA from Briercrest College. It was exposure to the critical study of the Bible, particularly of the Gospels, that caused me first to question how I fit within evangelicalism as I knew it. Looking back, it was really one question that haunted me: “If the Bible is so historically-conditioned, how can we ever look to it for guidance on matters of life and faith? How can we preach?” I’d say that it was this question more than any other that kept me from following through on my original intention to enter vocational ministry.
However, I enjoyed my studies and had no other real direction, so I continued into the seminary part-time. (Good reasoning, eh?) Eventually, I found myself working in an administrative capacity for the college. I finally graduated from my MA program after having written a thesis on contemporary evangelical doctrines of Scripture. Through my studies I finally recovered some of the confidence that I had lost in God’s ability to be heard in Scripture and planned again to enter pastoral ministry. However, this time I couldn’t find a church that I really felt comfortable entering into as a pastor! Looking back, I think that my hesitation was what Bonhoeffer described as “loving one’s image of the community more than the community itself” (paraphrased from Life Together). This is something I continue to wrestle with and, I think, has played a much greater role than I care to admit in determining where I am now.
Anyway, I had aspirations to teach theology and to write. And so, I worked a couple of more years at Briercrest and dabbled a bit in the classroom. In Fall 2006 my family and I moved to Hamilton so that I could begin my PhD work at McMaster University’s department of Religious Studies with the hope of becoming an “academic.” We also began to attend an Anglican parish around this time. I’m now at the dissertation stage of my program, researching the Christology and biblical interpretation of Swiss Reformed theologian Karl Barth, still wrestling with similar questions that emerged a long time ago. I continue to consider myself an evangelical, even (perhaps especially) as we get to know the Anglican Communion. I’m glad to be part of this little experiment in conversation because I think that the stories of those involved are representative of a common trend. I hope to understand that.
(Concluding Unscientific Post-Script) Re-reading this intro, it sounds much more intellectualist than I actually am. Take it with a grain of salt... the theological/philosophical questions are very real indeed, but they are but a part of a much more complicated history than what I can represent here (or even to myself).
You’ve got to admit, it’s kinda funny that we began this blog on evangelicalism with personal testimonies….
(…Cue “Just as I am.”)
In all likelihood, I am the least known participants in this group, though I think I have some small connection to a few of you in one way or another. I grew up on the Canadian prairies and did not become interested in Christianity and the like until well into my teen years. My first exposure to such things was through an evangelical youth group (C&MA, actually) by which I was formed through the usual suspects: DC Talk, Wednesday night Bible-studies, and The Princess Bride. After high school I completed a BA from Briercrest College. It was exposure to the critical study of the Bible, particularly of the Gospels, that caused me first to question how I fit within evangelicalism as I knew it. Looking back, it was really one question that haunted me: “If the Bible is so historically-conditioned, how can we ever look to it for guidance on matters of life and faith? How can we preach?” I’d say that it was this question more than any other that kept me from following through on my original intention to enter vocational ministry.
However, I enjoyed my studies and had no other real direction, so I continued into the seminary part-time. (Good reasoning, eh?) Eventually, I found myself working in an administrative capacity for the college. I finally graduated from my MA program after having written a thesis on contemporary evangelical doctrines of Scripture. Through my studies I finally recovered some of the confidence that I had lost in God’s ability to be heard in Scripture and planned again to enter pastoral ministry. However, this time I couldn’t find a church that I really felt comfortable entering into as a pastor! Looking back, I think that my hesitation was what Bonhoeffer described as “loving one’s image of the community more than the community itself” (paraphrased from Life Together). This is something I continue to wrestle with and, I think, has played a much greater role than I care to admit in determining where I am now.
Anyway, I had aspirations to teach theology and to write. And so, I worked a couple of more years at Briercrest and dabbled a bit in the classroom. In Fall 2006 my family and I moved to Hamilton so that I could begin my PhD work at McMaster University’s department of Religious Studies with the hope of becoming an “academic.” We also began to attend an Anglican parish around this time. I’m now at the dissertation stage of my program, researching the Christology and biblical interpretation of Swiss Reformed theologian Karl Barth, still wrestling with similar questions that emerged a long time ago. I continue to consider myself an evangelical, even (perhaps especially) as we get to know the Anglican Communion. I’m glad to be part of this little experiment in conversation because I think that the stories of those involved are representative of a common trend. I hope to understand that.
(Concluding Unscientific Post-Script) Re-reading this intro, it sounds much more intellectualist than I actually am. Take it with a grain of salt... the theological/philosophical questions are very real indeed, but they are but a part of a much more complicated history than what I can represent here (or even to myself).
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
This is Jon
I say this with fear and trembling: I'm not entirely sure I would be a Christian today if not for spending thousands and thousands of dollars to get a theological education, thus discovering Christianity to more relevant, life-giving, complex, beautiful, intellectual, and communal than I had ever realized.
I'm not trying to make a statement with that, I'm just saying that's my story. I'm not trying to say the evangelical churches I grew up in never had any of that, I'm just saying I never caught much wind of it (and still don't very often). I'm not saying I have my own theological education to thank for my faith (as if it is mine in some way), I'm just saying that key professors and authors have been the part of the church which God has graciously used to keep me. I think this does speak to a problem in evangelicalism, but we'll get to that later I'm sure.
Reading Robert Webber's Younger Evangelicals a couple years ago I realized that being born in '75 put me between generations---and this explained to me why I've always felt tugged in two directions at once. It has never been incredibly difficult for me to join in on the postmodern critique of modernity; the Gen-X critique of Boomers; the emergent critique of the seeker-service; and so on. Whatever you want to call it, I feel it in my bones.
But it isn't so easy: I am just as suspicious of my critique as I am of the one I critique. I am postmodern enough to believe that it isn't so black and white as all that---as if modernity is all bad and postmodernity all good; as if my generation will be able to right the wrongs of evangelicalism past without in turn bringing new and even worse wrongs to evangelicalism future; as if we are the enlightened ones whose first step ought to be to shrug off the lies and errors of our fathers. Uh-uh. I'm with Elijah: My ancestors may have had some problems, but the harder I try to fix them the more I discover that I am no better than my ancestors. We've seen generation after generation err by over-reacting to the one before. Too many babies have been thrown out with the bathwater. The errors of today's evangelicalism are the over-reactions to the evangelicalism which preceded.
But lest this become a rant instead of an introduction, let me give a couple anecdotes from my life that illustrate why I look at it this way.
When I was a boy of 12 I was for the first time listening to rock music on my headphones---and it was so good. I was loving it. I had never really heard to anything like it and new vistas of experience were opening on my horizon.
But all the time I listened I was full of this debilitating and deathly fear that I'd be found out for being so rebellious; I'd be in huge trouble for brushing the dark side---and this new world of music that had just opened up in front of me would be taken away by my parents forever.
Then one day it happened: I was listening to this music and my Mom was trying to talk to me. I couldn't hear. She spoke louder to get my attention. When I noticed I thought my time had come. I was busted. I don't recall exactly but I think I burst into tears. Turned out she was just telling me we had to go somewhere. That's all. She couldn't understand what I was so fearful of. What she and I both didn't realize, I think, was what a hold guilt and fear had on my young Christian heart. I felt guilty for pretty much everything and I was afraid of even more.
Now here's the crazy thing: The music was Micheal W. Smith! And my parents had not only overseen the purchase of the cassette but had given me the walkman! Why was I afraid? For the life of me I can't figure it out except to say that the fear (and guilt) that I felt crippling me growing up was part and parcel of the evangelical air I breathed.
I'm not going to try to say that guilt and fear don't have their place, but they are not the beating heart of the faith. Something went seriously wrong in my corner of the 2oth century evangelical world and many like me have not survived it. I am thankful that by the grace of God somehow the faith still has a hold of me, but at times it has been barely. Eventually the icy grip of guilt and fear squeezes the life out of it and you either run for cover or you find that there is something deeper to the faith.
This may sound like therapy, but so be it. One more anecdote: In grade 7 the San Francisco earthquake happened right before my eyes while I watched TV. Given my upbringing I was fairly certain the rapture was about to happen any moment. Unexpectedly, I became very afraid of being raptured. I did not want to go to heaven. I did not want to go to hell, either, don't get me wrong, but all I could think of when I thought of heaven was this eternal extension of my current experience. At the time I did not appreciate things like love and grace and peace and reconciliation and hope. Those things had certainly been taught in church but I didn't hear them.
I had heard about the slippery slope though. And it certainly kept me out of trouble. Something good might still be said about it. I had heard conviction of sin. And it certainly led me to Jesus. Something good might still be said about that too. I had heard all about the end-times. It certainly made me aware of the urgency of life, and something good might still be said about it as well, but beneath them I had nothing but a gaping hole where Jesus (and Christian community)ought to have been thriving but was breathing for air.
Here I was petrified of heaven because all I could picture was me sitting alone in a crowded church feeling completelly out of the loop . . . for ever. I was beside myself. I really was. Few things are as frightening in my memory as that time of my life.
What got me through was my dad praying with me. Notice that? I had the evangelicalism of my ancestors partly to blame for the trouble I was in, but I also had my living breathing ancestor to thank for leading me in Christian communion to engage the Jesus somewhere behind it all.
20 years later I am still working through all of this. My church upbringing is something I have become very thankful for. But it is also something I want to build on. Hopefully little conversation groups like this one can be some good therapy---I mean edification.
I doubt that ours is a period of transition which will smooth out the church experience for our children. I shudder to think of the messes I am leaving for my kids to clean up. But I take solace in the grace of God and I make it my goal not to pass on a heritage of my own achieved perfection, but the ministry of reconciliation that (whether it always realised it or preached it or not) has been the beating heart of the evangelical church all along.
I'm not trying to make a statement with that, I'm just saying that's my story. I'm not trying to say the evangelical churches I grew up in never had any of that, I'm just saying I never caught much wind of it (and still don't very often). I'm not saying I have my own theological education to thank for my faith (as if it is mine in some way), I'm just saying that key professors and authors have been the part of the church which God has graciously used to keep me. I think this does speak to a problem in evangelicalism, but we'll get to that later I'm sure.
Reading Robert Webber's Younger Evangelicals a couple years ago I realized that being born in '75 put me between generations---and this explained to me why I've always felt tugged in two directions at once. It has never been incredibly difficult for me to join in on the postmodern critique of modernity; the Gen-X critique of Boomers; the emergent critique of the seeker-service; and so on. Whatever you want to call it, I feel it in my bones.
But it isn't so easy: I am just as suspicious of my critique as I am of the one I critique. I am postmodern enough to believe that it isn't so black and white as all that---as if modernity is all bad and postmodernity all good; as if my generation will be able to right the wrongs of evangelicalism past without in turn bringing new and even worse wrongs to evangelicalism future; as if we are the enlightened ones whose first step ought to be to shrug off the lies and errors of our fathers. Uh-uh. I'm with Elijah: My ancestors may have had some problems, but the harder I try to fix them the more I discover that I am no better than my ancestors. We've seen generation after generation err by over-reacting to the one before. Too many babies have been thrown out with the bathwater. The errors of today's evangelicalism are the over-reactions to the evangelicalism which preceded.
But lest this become a rant instead of an introduction, let me give a couple anecdotes from my life that illustrate why I look at it this way.
When I was a boy of 12 I was for the first time listening to rock music on my headphones---and it was so good. I was loving it. I had never really heard to anything like it and new vistas of experience were opening on my horizon.
But all the time I listened I was full of this debilitating and deathly fear that I'd be found out for being so rebellious; I'd be in huge trouble for brushing the dark side---and this new world of music that had just opened up in front of me would be taken away by my parents forever.
Then one day it happened: I was listening to this music and my Mom was trying to talk to me. I couldn't hear. She spoke louder to get my attention. When I noticed I thought my time had come. I was busted. I don't recall exactly but I think I burst into tears. Turned out she was just telling me we had to go somewhere. That's all. She couldn't understand what I was so fearful of. What she and I both didn't realize, I think, was what a hold guilt and fear had on my young Christian heart. I felt guilty for pretty much everything and I was afraid of even more.
Now here's the crazy thing: The music was Micheal W. Smith! And my parents had not only overseen the purchase of the cassette but had given me the walkman! Why was I afraid? For the life of me I can't figure it out except to say that the fear (and guilt) that I felt crippling me growing up was part and parcel of the evangelical air I breathed.
I'm not going to try to say that guilt and fear don't have their place, but they are not the beating heart of the faith. Something went seriously wrong in my corner of the 2oth century evangelical world and many like me have not survived it. I am thankful that by the grace of God somehow the faith still has a hold of me, but at times it has been barely. Eventually the icy grip of guilt and fear squeezes the life out of it and you either run for cover or you find that there is something deeper to the faith.
This may sound like therapy, but so be it. One more anecdote: In grade 7 the San Francisco earthquake happened right before my eyes while I watched TV. Given my upbringing I was fairly certain the rapture was about to happen any moment. Unexpectedly, I became very afraid of being raptured. I did not want to go to heaven. I did not want to go to hell, either, don't get me wrong, but all I could think of when I thought of heaven was this eternal extension of my current experience. At the time I did not appreciate things like love and grace and peace and reconciliation and hope. Those things had certainly been taught in church but I didn't hear them.
I had heard about the slippery slope though. And it certainly kept me out of trouble. Something good might still be said about it. I had heard conviction of sin. And it certainly led me to Jesus. Something good might still be said about that too. I had heard all about the end-times. It certainly made me aware of the urgency of life, and something good might still be said about it as well, but beneath them I had nothing but a gaping hole where Jesus (and Christian community)ought to have been thriving but was breathing for air.
Here I was petrified of heaven because all I could picture was me sitting alone in a crowded church feeling completelly out of the loop . . . for ever. I was beside myself. I really was. Few things are as frightening in my memory as that time of my life.
What got me through was my dad praying with me. Notice that? I had the evangelicalism of my ancestors partly to blame for the trouble I was in, but I also had my living breathing ancestor to thank for leading me in Christian communion to engage the Jesus somewhere behind it all.
20 years later I am still working through all of this. My church upbringing is something I have become very thankful for. But it is also something I want to build on. Hopefully little conversation groups like this one can be some good therapy---I mean edification.
I doubt that ours is a period of transition which will smooth out the church experience for our children. I shudder to think of the messes I am leaving for my kids to clean up. But I take solace in the grace of God and I make it my goal not to pass on a heritage of my own achieved perfection, but the ministry of reconciliation that (whether it always realised it or preached it or not) has been the beating heart of the evangelical church all along.
hey Everyone,
Thanks for your thoughts Trev. I appreciated hearing your journey.
So my journey.... wow. I didn't grow up in a Christian home, started going to youth in Gr 10/11 and really dedicated myself to following God there. I was a pretty black and white/traditional thinker at college and early in my ministry as a youth pastor, but something started happening to me about 3/4 years in (about 5 years ago). I don't really know how it happened, but I started thinking a lot more about postmodern thought, culture, etc, etc. I took a great postmodern class in college (with Draper) but it didn't mean much for me. For some reason it started to click in different ways these years later. Colin and I had a lot of great talks that also helped me work through these issues (Colin paid me $10 to say that, and hey, ten bucks is ten bucks). If anything, I've started to move away from a lot of the traditional church elements, some I'm happy about, some scare me a bit. I'm starting on a church plant from our church with the desire to attempt a re-creation of church.....well, not a re-creation, but an avenue to allow a new creative voice to draw what church could be. Not so much talking by 1 person from the front, but a community. Not so much leader driven, but community driven. Not so much inwardly focused, but focused on the world here and abroad.
A book that has really challenged me lately is "Pagan Christianity". More than anything it allowed me to dream and think further than before.
I guess I could sum this up by saying that I don't fit in the church as it exists, nor do I necessarily feel wanted, nor do I want to fit in. I don't view the Bible as most people do on a Sunday. Truth is vague, grey, and more circumstantial than people want to believe. I can't stand being in a place where there is so much criticism and nit-picking. This isn't the environment I want to live in. But this group isn't about being critical. I want to help, in some small way, bring a new era of relevance to the Church as I believe there is need and merit to its existence. Thanks for listening. Feel free to ask any questions.
Scott
Thanks for your thoughts Trev. I appreciated hearing your journey.
So my journey.... wow. I didn't grow up in a Christian home, started going to youth in Gr 10/11 and really dedicated myself to following God there. I was a pretty black and white/traditional thinker at college and early in my ministry as a youth pastor, but something started happening to me about 3/4 years in (about 5 years ago). I don't really know how it happened, but I started thinking a lot more about postmodern thought, culture, etc, etc. I took a great postmodern class in college (with Draper) but it didn't mean much for me. For some reason it started to click in different ways these years later. Colin and I had a lot of great talks that also helped me work through these issues (Colin paid me $10 to say that, and hey, ten bucks is ten bucks). If anything, I've started to move away from a lot of the traditional church elements, some I'm happy about, some scare me a bit. I'm starting on a church plant from our church with the desire to attempt a re-creation of church.....well, not a re-creation, but an avenue to allow a new creative voice to draw what church could be. Not so much talking by 1 person from the front, but a community. Not so much leader driven, but community driven. Not so much inwardly focused, but focused on the world here and abroad.
A book that has really challenged me lately is "Pagan Christianity". More than anything it allowed me to dream and think further than before.
I guess I could sum this up by saying that I don't fit in the church as it exists, nor do I necessarily feel wanted, nor do I want to fit in. I don't view the Bible as most people do on a Sunday. Truth is vague, grey, and more circumstantial than people want to believe. I can't stand being in a place where there is so much criticism and nit-picking. This isn't the environment I want to live in. But this group isn't about being critical. I want to help, in some small way, bring a new era of relevance to the Church as I believe there is need and merit to its existence. Thanks for listening. Feel free to ask any questions.
Scott
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Trevor's Introduction... of sorts
I would daresay that the rest of the contributors already know who I am. I would also venture to say that this will likely be one of my shortest posts I've done so far (if you've read Ponderings and Musings, you will know that I have a tendency to write too much). My story in a nutshell is as follows.
I grew up in a Christian home and went to church and youth group and was basically a goody two shoes (although after taking my pre-employment polygraph for the police service I certainly didn't feel like a goody two shoes. Imagine all of your deepest darkest secrets from the time of your birth until now and explaining them in detail to a stranger who will know if you are lying or even not telling the whole truth. I imagine that is how judgement day will feel. It sure motivates a person to not have any secrets! Ahem. Enough for this bracketed aside). I was basically brought up in a fundamentalist evangelical setting with all of the other sub-cultural baggage that goes along with it. After High School I went to CBC and obtained a Bachelor of Religious Education. At CBC some of my pre-constructed theology about God was demolished, but for the most part I was still able to remain in the fundamentalist evangelical mold.
Upon completion of CBC, my wife and I moved to Japan where we lived for 3 years. It was there that I began my ride down the slippery slope of post-modern Christianity. For it was in Japan that I first began my personal studies of the Ancient Near East - and Assyriology in particular. For me it was much like that scene in The Matrix where Neo is offered the red pill and the blue pill.
Morpheus: I imagine that right now you're feeling a bit like Alice. Tumbling down the rabbit hole?
Neo: You could say that.
Morpheus: I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he's expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Neo?
Neo: No.
Morpheus: Why not?
Neo: 'Cause I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.
Morpheus: I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know, you can't explain. But you feel it. You felt it your entire life. That there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there. Like a splinter in your mind -- driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?
Neo: The Matrix?
Morpheus: Do you want to know what it is?
(Neo nods his head.)
Morpheus: The Matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, or when go to church or when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
Neo: What truth?
Morpheus: That you are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage, born inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your mind. (long pause, sighs) Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back.
(In his left hand, Morpheus shows a blue pill.)
Morpheus: You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. (a red pill is shown in his other hand) You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.(Long pause; Neo begins to reach for the red pill) Remember -- all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.(Neo takes the red pill and swallows it with a glass of water)
I felt that I was not told the whole truth regarding the Bible. I felt somewhat deceived and, for lack of a better term, brain-washed. In many ways, I feel like I should have taken the blue pill and forgotten all of what I have learned and found out and go back to the way I was. But on the hand, would I really want to go back if I could? It's obviously too late now. Of course the analogy only goes so far. Anyway, the more I read about Assyriology, the more I found out that my presuppositions about the Bible and my faith were not entirely (if not at all)correct. I won't get into those details here. To hear about what I was studying, you can go and read my little essays I have posted on Ponderings and Musings. Needless to say, I was unable to continue being the Christian I once was and began my journey into a new kind of faith. This journey is still continuing (as is most people's journey of faith). Often times I feel like I am alone in what I believe, which is why I am personally excited about this blog as it will give me a chance to dialogue with others who will not condemn me as a heretic.
I grew up in a Christian home and went to church and youth group and was basically a goody two shoes (although after taking my pre-employment polygraph for the police service I certainly didn't feel like a goody two shoes. Imagine all of your deepest darkest secrets from the time of your birth until now and explaining them in detail to a stranger who will know if you are lying or even not telling the whole truth. I imagine that is how judgement day will feel. It sure motivates a person to not have any secrets! Ahem. Enough for this bracketed aside). I was basically brought up in a fundamentalist evangelical setting with all of the other sub-cultural baggage that goes along with it. After High School I went to CBC and obtained a Bachelor of Religious Education. At CBC some of my pre-constructed theology about God was demolished, but for the most part I was still able to remain in the fundamentalist evangelical mold.
Upon completion of CBC, my wife and I moved to Japan where we lived for 3 years. It was there that I began my ride down the slippery slope of post-modern Christianity. For it was in Japan that I first began my personal studies of the Ancient Near East - and Assyriology in particular. For me it was much like that scene in The Matrix where Neo is offered the red pill and the blue pill.
Morpheus: I imagine that right now you're feeling a bit like Alice. Tumbling down the rabbit hole?
Neo: You could say that.
Morpheus: I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he's expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Neo?
Neo: No.
Morpheus: Why not?
Neo: 'Cause I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.
Morpheus: I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know, you can't explain. But you feel it. You felt it your entire life. That there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there. Like a splinter in your mind -- driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?
Neo: The Matrix?
Morpheus: Do you want to know what it is?
(Neo nods his head.)
Morpheus: The Matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, or when go to church or when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
Neo: What truth?
Morpheus: That you are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage, born inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your mind. (long pause, sighs) Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back.
(In his left hand, Morpheus shows a blue pill.)
Morpheus: You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. (a red pill is shown in his other hand) You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.(Long pause; Neo begins to reach for the red pill) Remember -- all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.(Neo takes the red pill and swallows it with a glass of water)
I felt that I was not told the whole truth regarding the Bible. I felt somewhat deceived and, for lack of a better term, brain-washed. In many ways, I feel like I should have taken the blue pill and forgotten all of what I have learned and found out and go back to the way I was. But on the hand, would I really want to go back if I could? It's obviously too late now. Of course the analogy only goes so far. Anyway, the more I read about Assyriology, the more I found out that my presuppositions about the Bible and my faith were not entirely (if not at all)correct. I won't get into those details here. To hear about what I was studying, you can go and read my little essays I have posted on Ponderings and Musings. Needless to say, I was unable to continue being the Christian I once was and began my journey into a new kind of faith. This journey is still continuing (as is most people's journey of faith). Often times I feel like I am alone in what I believe, which is why I am personally excited about this blog as it will give me a chance to dialogue with others who will not condemn me as a heretic.
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