Love and Horror...

We've been discussing pain and appropriate Christian responses to it below.  Please go there and add your two cents if you have two cents to spare.  I just wanted to relate an experience that I had today.

On her blog this morning April DeConick referred to a trial down in Texas surrounding the beating death of a little girl named Grace (for some reason Dr. DeConick has removed that particular post, but please follow the link to her excellent blog anyway).  I won't relate the details simply because they are too horrible to type out.  She was killed by her own parents in the most vicious act of child abuse I've ever heard of, that's all I'll say.  When I read about the crime I was horror-struck, and I was unspeakably angry.  I wanted to write horrible things about those parents in the comments section of Dr. DeConick's post, and on my blog, and on this blog, and on every other public forum that I could find.  Then I wanted to speak to every person that I know and say more horrible things.  Then I looked at my little boy who was, as usual, running around between our living room and his bedroom being loud and silly.  Instead of saying horrible things about horror I did these things instead:

I made my son spaghetti with meat sauce (aka loodles!!! [noodles] in his parlance).  While the loodles cooked I watched little Liam take my steel mixing bowls off of their rack, set them some four feet away on the kitchen floor, then pick them up one by one and return them to the rack only to then move them from the rack to the floor again.  He did that for around ten minutes.  He was very content.  Then he ate his loodles while I cleaned up the kitchen.  As always he made a horrible mess and fed the dog almost as much as himself.  Then we played in the living room.  I was daddy-monster and chased him, then he was Liam-monster and he chased me and knocked me down and climbed on me screaming and giggling.  Then we snuggled and watched the Mole Sisters on Treehouse.  Then we changed his diaper and we snuggled a little more and he laid down for a nice, quiet nap.

I did those things for my son because I love him.  I also did those things for my son because they are the things that were not done for that poor little girl named Grace.  I can't help that little girl.  I want very badly to help her, but I can't.  But I can love my little boy.  I can care for him and be responsible for him and be his father.

I can't quite explain why, but that responsibility seems even more important to me in light of poor Grace's death.  I suppose the more horror I see pushed out into the world, the more I want to let out love to push back.  That, in my mind, seems like the Christlike thing to do.

Pain and Suffering

First, I am no pastor. Although it is my job, the pastoring part is not what I’m really good at. So I’ll give you my thoughts in 2 regards below, but know that they are as an introverted, mostly socially awkward individual who is far more at home organizing an event or analyzing a problem than dealing with people.

1. Helping those who are in pain or suffering – I think my favourite passage in regards to this is from Romans 12:15 - Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. I’m more apt to offer a few kind words of comfort in a tough time, than to talk too much. Unless the situation warrants, I’m likely to sit by and be a presence more than offer what I think are important words. Frankly, I think that more people offering comfort should just be quiet and keep their words to themselves. I think that a great deal of hurt has been done by people who impose their ego and importance on those who are hurting in a tough time (the hurting person is an easy target for the one who needs to help others). So how do we respond? I’m apt to say – be quiet. Job 38 says: “Who is this that obscures by plans with words without judgement?” Yet….I have a friend named Pete that is an incredible Pastor (in the real sense). He can tell you that you are the dumbest person alive, and you’ll want to be his best friend. So after my rant, I really think that our response has to be based on our gifting. Lastly, I don’t want this too sound corny, or a cop out – but I think it has to do with God’s honest prompting too. There are times we need to be a conduit for God to speak to others. I think that forces out of our comfort zone to speak words we might otherwise not speak, words that may not find their home in this person for a long time (or ever). In summary, I think we should speak exceptionally cautiously, and only at God’s leading.
2. Living pain and suffering – I think that pain and suffering has a place in our lives too (the lives of believers). For years now I’ve felt that a key reason that God allows pain and suffering in the lives of believers is so that they can model hope in the midst of despair to a world that has little hope in the midst of despair. How I handle failure, frustration, sin, pain and suffering has to point to Jesus and to something more than being caught up in whatever situation it is that I’m in. I’m learning this with our real estate stuff. We currently have 2 places to rent out, and if we don’t, we’ll end up paying the mortgages until they are rented out. The first time this happened I was totally stressed out. As I have thought about it, I really believe that we are on the path God has for us, and if we are merely following God, then our attitude needs to reflect that God is leading the journey and will do what he needs to in his time (aka peace). I don’t think this is mis-placed trust or faith, but an appropriate response God’s leading in our lives. I hope that I’m being an accurate reflection of how to live in these circumstances. I think this applies to real pain and suffering too (of which I do not believe I have experience, or not much of anyway). Do we really believe that God can redeem all circumstances for good (a la Romans 8:28 – written in the context of suffering itself)?

I also want to push this one step farther as Colin asked “How can the Church do to speak into the lives of people in pain?” I think this goes to 1 Cor 12. A body acting well will have people who can play the main roles someone needs. Those who can listen, those who can motivate, those who can say difficult words, those who can organize food, or clean-up, or babysitting. I think this is where the Body is shown at its finest, coming together to embrace pain and suffering, as well as those experiencing pain and suffering in a way unknown or unfathomable to the world around us. I guess at times I am sceptical of those on TV who have something horrific happen to them (like a child murdered) and then profess they have no rage or malice toward the perpetrator. I am sceptical because I don’t know them – but what if they are sincere and that is really the case. I would love to be a part of a group that could bring such calm and focus and direction in such a terrible time. I think the group that has the potential for that is the Body of Christ.

Those are my thoughts. I hope I have done you all proud 

Scott

Ends and Means...

The end of the Christian faith is Christ-likeness; that is, to be virtuous as Christ is virtuous. If this is so, then this end justifies any means. Thoughts?

Theory and Practice...

We've been on a Christmas hiatus here at 4712 for the past little while, but it's about time we got back at it.  I'm in the midst of discussing some mild format changes and topic possibilities with our contributors, but I thought I'd offer this post as a welcome back to our readers and an interim conversation.

One subject that seems to surround most of the posts and responses thus far is the difficulty of intersecting theoretical and practical concerns.  This is not a problem unique to theological discussions, but one that I think has become very common throughout our culture.  In extreme cases there are two polar opposite versions of snobbery.

At the one extreme is the intellectual snob, the elitist, who believes that nobody without at least a Master's degree is allowed to speak on a given subject, and that "ordinary" people are less than him/her.  Less educated=less intelligent=less worthy.

At the other extreme is the "common" snob, the anti-elitist, who believes that it is better to be "plain-spoken" than educated.  This person believes that theoretical discussions are pie-in-the-sky nonsense, and that any discussion that does not have immediate, practical applications is not a discussion worth having.  More practical=more grounded and realistic=more worthy.

These are caricatures.  I've only seldom met a person who remotely resembled either of these sketches.  What I am demonstrating is just the extremes on a spectrum.  There are lots of people who are elitist-ish, and lots of people who are anti-elitist-ish out there and I'm sure we've all met them (or are them).  The problem that is immediately apparent when caricatures like this are sketched is that these extremes are unhelpful in this discussion.  That's not always the case, but it is the case here.  Just theory is ethereal nonsense.  Just practice is ignorant drivel.

Theory and practice must coexist, therefore, but how?  Is theory given dominence?  Does all practice flow from theory?  Or is practice given priority?  Does all theory serve to illuminate and clarify practice?  Perhaps an example will be helpful.  Let's try the world of music.

There is an awfully large body of theoretical knowledge out there about music.  Those of us who learned instruments in the classical fashion remember the arduous, tortuous experience of slogging through Grade 1 Theory workbooks (can you tell how much I love musical theory?).  We identified eighth notes, counted rests, filled in scales and arpegios, etc, etc, etc.  As Trev and Colleen well know, musical theory extends far beyond these basics into some rather complex territory.  I imagine you could do a PhD in musical theory if you wanted.  Would that, however, make you a better guitar player?  Of course it would.  You would have a more significant understanding of what it is that makes music work and would consequently be able to play a given instrument with more competence.  But a deep knowledge of theory would not necessarily make you a great musician.  Only one thing is sufficient for that.  Practice.  Music is a practical discipline and so disciplined practice is required.  What of the opposite scenario, however?  If one practices all the time without once thinking theoretically about music is it possible to become a good musician?  Of course it is.  But constant yet unreflective practice cannot make you a great musician.  Great musicians always think about the nature of music.  Does that mean taking classes in advanced classical theory?  Not necessarily.  A person can theorize deeply about music without even knowing how to read standard musical notation.  That theory will simply take place using some other language.  But careful thinking is necessary for any real virtuoso.  As this example demonstrates, however, neither theory nor practice takes precedence.  Different people may begin in different places or have different emphases, but I imagine this has more to do with personality and giftedness (and perhaps calling) than anything else.  The theory/practice relationship is a chicken and egg thing if you ask me.

Theology is a discipline where the intersection of theory and practice is entirely necessary.  Both uninformed and impractical theology are examples of poor theology.  One of the reasons that I wanted to create this blog is for the purpose of encouraging discussion at this point of intersection.  I hope that the very tension that's been remarked upon here is evidence of some success, and odd as it may sound I hope that we see more tension at this point of intersection.  A well constructed yet eminently functional theology is something that North American evangelicalism needs desperately and I hope our tiny little corner can be a place where that point of intersection is taken seriously.