The Apostle Paul’s injunction to "pray without ceasing" (KJV) or "pray continually" (NIV) is a familiar scripture to which evangelicals often appeal, but it is also one that often occasions frequent discussion due to its apparent impossibility. How can one pray while going about one’s daily business, for example? How can one continue to pray throughout a day? How can one pray while sleeping?
The standard answer to this problem lies in redefining the word "pray." We are to "pray" continually by having a "prayerful attitude" at all times; i.e., by meditating on the things of the Lord, by silent prayer throughout a day, etc. The objection concerning sleep or other states of unconsciousness is met either by asserting that the mental processes going on while falling asleep continue throughout sleep, by claiming that certain states of mind such as sleep are obvious and therefore inconsequential exceptions to the command, or that the command itself, like "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect," is a goal to be sought, but is unachievable in our present life.
Watered-Down Prayer?
The problem with this line of interpretation is that it seems to water down the meaning of the word "pray" (προσευχεσθε) to a level that becomes effectively meaningless. Even leaving aside the problem of sleep, reducing our understanding of prayer to a mental state that can be maintained under all conditions, without regard for what the mind is otherwise concentrating on, would appear to be pointless. The likely effect on those who hear this teaching is to cause them to attempt to engender a vaguely pious feeling whenever they recall this passage. Aside from the fact that this seems hardly worthy of a command from the apostle, it doesn’t fall within the lexical range of the word προσευχομαι.
Although a middle deponent, προσευχομαι has the meaning of active communication with God throughout the New Testament. Out of 87 references in the New Testament[1], six refer to specific and recurring times of prayer (e.g. Matt. 6:5, "When you pray"; also Matt. 6:6, 7; Mk. 11:24, 25; Lk. 11:2). Twenty references are imperitival forms indicating commands or requests to pray for specific persons or in specific circumstances (e.g. Lk. 22:40, "Pray that you will not fall into temptation"; 1 Cor. 14:13, "Anyone who speaks in a tongue should pray that he may interpret").[2] Specific occasions of prayer, by particular people and in specific places or times (i.e., in narrative), occur in 49 places.[3] All of the above 75 references imply concreteness and specificity in prayer; i.e., praying at a specific time, or going to a specific place for the purpose of praying, or praying with a specific object in mind. There is therefore no support among these references to the idea of prayer as merely a "prayerful attitude." If such an interpretation can be supported, it must lie among the remaining twelve citations.
Of these, six refer to hypothetical situations; i.e., to discussions of prayer rather than incidents, commands, etc. These discussions, though hypothetical, do have concrete ideas about the prayers that are envisioned. Lk. 11:1 is the disciples’ question, "Lord, teach us to pray," and Rom. 8:26 refers to the Spirit interceding for us when "we do not know what we ought to pray for," both implying conscious volition in the prayers envisioned.[4] A prayerful attitude does not need to be taught (and Jesus’ response in the form of the Lord’s prayer certainly indicates concreteness and purposefulness), neither is there frustration in not knowing how to pray if a frame of mind is all that is intended. 1 Cor. 14:14-15 (four references) refer to praying "in a tongue" as opposed to praying "with my mind," and in this case alone does scripture specify prayer that is mentally (but not spiritually) nonvolitional. However, it is doubtful that anyone, including Pentecostals, would understand "pray continually" in 1 Thess. 5:17 as continuous praying in tongues (although they might see silent and verbal prayer in tongues as a part of the continual prayer we are to do). Moreover, Pentecostals view prayer in tongues as purposeful—as something done volitionally—and though Pentecostals praying in tongues may not know the subject matter of the prayer, they know that they are praying: they are making a choice to pray at that moment. It does not constitute a mere "prayerful attitude."
This leaves six references to continual or prolonged prayer. The first introduces a parable, in which Jesus demonstrates to his disciples "that they should always pray and not give up" (Lk. 18:1). Here, the two phrases form a hendyadis, in which always praying is synonymous with not giving up; that is, the opposite of continued prayer is to give up altogether. This is illustrated by the parable of the unjust judge that follows, in which a woman "kept coming to him" with her plea. It is not to be assumed that she continuously pled with the judge, but that she repeatedly did so, and did not cease these repetitive requests until they were granted.
Col. 1:3, 9; and 2 Thess. 1:11 occur within the opening sections of Pauline epistles and refer to the apostle’s prayer for the Colossian and Thessalonian churches respectively. In all these cases, it is inconceivable that Paul is praying continuously for these churches (while simultaneously praying for all the rest, writing the rest of his epistles, founding churches and suffering in prison, tentmaking, etc.; cf. 2 Cor. 11:23-28!). These passages are generally understood in context as referring to continuing, but periodic prayer.
Finally, we come to Eph. 6:18 and the passage in question, 1 Thess. 5:17; both are exhortations to continual prayer. The Ephesians passage stresses prayer "in the Spirit" for a diversity of reasons; other than that, it does not shed any more light on the issue. Therefore, in the absence of any support in the New Testament, other than prayer "in a tongue" in 1 Cor. 4:14-15, it is unreasonable to view the exhortations to continued prayer in Ephesians and 1 Thessalonians as referring to anything but volitional mental or verbal communication with God. It often presupposes an object for the prayer to be "about," it frequently involves removal to a particular place or the choice of a specific time. Of course, this does not resolve the difficulty concerning how we are supposed to continually pray in such a purposeful way.
It may be objected that keeping a prayerful attitude does not preclude specific times of more concentrated prayer, and that of course most references to prayer in scripture would be to such specific prayers. However, if it is shown that all other citations of προσευχομαι assume purposefulness, we may suspect that its dilution in this passage is invented to reduce its difficulty.
What does "continually" really mean?
I would submit that another line of interpretation is possible, by focusing instead on the word "continually" (αδιαλειπτως). This word only occurs four times in the New Testament; its adjectival cognate αδιαλειπτος occurs twice.[5] Aside from the passage in question, the three occasions of αδιαλειπτως in Rom. 1:9 and 1 Thess. 1:3; 2:13 refer to prayers or thanksgivings for the Roman and Thessalonian churches; i.e., with objects in view that could not literally be held in the mind continuously. Similarly with the adjectival αδιαλειπτος, 2 Tim. 1:3 speaks of constant prayers for Timothy, and Rom. 9:2 refers to unceasing anguish in Paul’s heart for the Jews who were not accepting Christ. Although one may imagine (regarding the Romans passage) that an undercurrent of regret for his kinsmen could have formed a constant backdrop in Paul’s mind, providing impetus for his tireless work for the gospel, it would again seem impossible for Paul literally to be praying specifically for Timothy (in the 2 Timothy passage) on an unceasing basis, if by unceasing we mean uninterrupted.
It would seem clear, then, that we must not force αδιαλειπτως to indicate perpetual action without interruption. It more clearly refers to action, whether continuous or intermittent, that does not come to an end, and whose regular performance is not omitted. This understanding of the adverb accords with the lexical range of the verb προσευχεσθε, which is in the present tense and the imperitive mood. Although the present tense is often understood as being strictly durative (or continuous, without interruption), it can also be iterative (or repeated).[6] It is even more important not to force a durative construction when the verb is in the imperitive mood, which occurs in only two aspects—present and aorist—and in which the temporal aspect is minimized. The general idea behind the iterative present would have to do with the faithful carrying out of the action of the verb.[7] This would accord well with the context: v. 18 reads "give thanks in all circumstances (εν παντι), for this is God’s will concerning you." "In all circumstances" suggests, again, not continuous action, but repetitive. Therefore, the imperitive to "αδιαλειπτως προσευχεσθε" in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 might best be interpreted, "Continue your practice of regular prayer without cessation or omission."
The implications of this study go beyond the mere interpretation of this verse. If it is shown that throughout the New Testament the verb "to pray" has the meaning of conscious, purposeful communication with God, something that one does at particular times and places, it precludes New Age ideas of "prayer" that minimize this aspect. Evangelicals over time have gone from a mentality that considered prayer legitimate only when on bended knee in a church or in one’s "prayer closet," to one in which we stress that prayer can take place at any time—while driving, working, etc. While doubtless this is true—conscious, purposeful mental prayer can occur under these circumstances—many may have used these teachings to avoid or omit particular times and places of prayer. If Jesus found it necessary to remove himself for private prayer at particular times, how much more may we have that need? We may in fact have substituted a pious sort of prayerlessness for the prayer that scripture enjoins upon us. We need to heed the apostle’s words: to pray (not merely keep a "prayerful attitude") without ceasing (regularly, without quitting or omitting times of prayer). Along with always being joyful and giving thanks in all circumstances (1 Thess. 5:16-18), the apostle writes that "this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."
© Keith Schooley 1999.
Notes
[1] Wigram, George V. and Green Sr., J. P., The New Englishman’s Greek Concordance and Lexicon (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson Publishers, 1982), p. 757.
[2] Also Matt. 5:44; 6:6, 9; 24:20; 26:41; Mk. 13:18, 33; 14:38; Lk. 6:28; 22:46; Col. 4:3; 1 Thess. 5:25; 2 Thess. 3:1; 1 Tim. 2:8; Heb. 13:18; Jas. 5:13,14; Jude 20.
[3] Matt. 6:5; 14:23; 19:13; 23:14 (omitted in best mss. and NA26 text); 26:36, 39, 42, 44; Mk. 1:35; 6:46; 12:40; 14:32, 35, 39; Lk. 1:10; 3:21; 5:16; 6:12; 9:18, 28, 29; 11:1; 18:10, 11; 20:47; 22:41, 44; Acts 1:24; 6:6; 8:15; 9:11, 40; 10:9, 30; 11:5; 12:12; 13:3; 14:23; 16:25; 20:36; 21:5; 22:17; 28:8; 1 Cor. 11:4, 5, 13; Phil. 1:9; Jas. 5:17, 18.
[4] If the Romans reference to "groans that words cannot express" (NIV) is construed to refer to "speaking in tongues," it would fall into the category of the following 1 Corinthians references.
[5] Wigram and Green, 16. A few other scattered references occur in early Christian literature—in Ignatius’s letters to the Ephesians and to Polycarp, in the Shepherd of Hermas, and in Polycarp’s letter to the Philippians; cf. Bauer, Walter; Arndt, William F.; and Gingrich, F. Wilbur, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1979), p. 17.
[6] Brooks, James A. and Winbery, Carlton L., Syntax of New Testament Greek (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1979), pp. 85-86.
[7] Snyder, Steve, "GL 201 Intermediate Greek Supplement," photocopied supplement to second-year Greek language class (South Hamilton, MA: Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, 1988), p. 13.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
The Silly Flap over "Happy Holidays,"
and the battle over the two Christmases
'Tis the season for all right-thinking Americans to get a bee in their collective bonnet regarding "Happy Holidays" being substituted for "Merry Christmas." It's an insufferable umbrage, we are told, to hear the generic holiday greeting, since the overwhelming majority of people in our culture do celebrate Christmas. This deeply important issue precipitated a boycott of Wal-Mart last year, in response to which Wal-Mart has gone back to "Merry Christmas." We are encouraged to think that a moral victory has been won.
Given the antipathy I recently expressed regarding "Happy Turkey Day," you might think that I have similar feelings toward "Happy Holidays." The latter expression is, of course, a silly concession to political correctness, and another example of how Christians are expected to accept marginalization in favor of supposedly neutral secularism. Nonetheless, I really don't mind "Happy Holidays." The reason why is related to what has happened to Christmas in our culture.
Two Holidays
It is commonplace to complain that Christmas has been too commercialized; the real issue came earlier: Christmas being secularized. For a long time now, two separate holidays have coexisted by the same name and on the same day, often being celebrated by the same people at the same time. One commemorates the birth of the incarnate Son of God, and the incidental aspects of that birth become the symbols of the holiday: angels, shepherds, wise men, a man and his young pregnant bride, the animals in a stable, and one special star. There is music associated with this holiday: "O Come, O Come, Immanuel," "Silent Night," "Joy to the World," Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus".
The other holiday is a celebration of sentimentality and childhood fantasy. Its central event is the annual magical appearance of presents, and the incidental aspects of that event are the symbols of that holiday: snow, reindeer, evergreen trees, stockings, and the Right Jolly Old Elf himself, Santa Claus. There is music associated with this holiday as well: "White Christmas," "Winter Wonderland," "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and "Jingle Bell Rock."
These two holidays have coexisted for a long time, but have had great difficulty in being integrated. There is always the attempt by Christians to relate gift-giving to the gifts of the Magi; and it used to be fashionable for adults in the secular world to talk about the "real meaning" of the holiday as being The Birth of a Child (without, of course, any discussion of Who that Child was). But that was before it became fashionable for adults to proclaim, Peter Pannish-like, True Belief in Santa Claus, thus getting rid of any necessity of mentioning a Child at all. The secularization of Christmas has a long history. It was considered scandalous to the Puritans, who opposed its celebration at all.
Which Christmas?
I think that celebrating the entrance of the Son of God into the world is a good thing, and if it contains some of the trappings of Secular Christmas, I frankly don't mind, as long as the two Christmasses are kept in perspective. But over the last several years, I have noticed a virtual monopoly of Secular Christmas music, to the exclusion of Christian Christmas music, on the radio and in public places. It's easy to find snowmen and reindeer to put on your lawn; much more difficult to find nativity scenes. Rather than coexisting with Christian Christmas, Secular Christmas has been supplanting Christian Christmas for some time now. That, in turn, makes me a little uneasy when someone wishes me a "Merry Christmas." I'm beginning to wonder, "Which Christmas do you mean?"
The reality is, you have to know Christ to appreciate the Real Meaning of Christian Christmas. Sentimental hogwash about the Birth of New Hope is just meaningless words if you don't believe in the hope that Jesus came to give. And the majority of people you meet don't believe, and so they don't know, and can't appreciate what Christmas means to those who do know Christ. I'm frankly not sure I want everyone and their dog wishing me a "Merry Christmas." I'm not sure I want to wish everyone else a Merry Christmas, if some of them are going to understand by that phrase getting drunk on eggnog and maxing out their credit cards. It's a communication thing. "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
Happy Holidays
On the other hand, I don't mind wishing people "Happy Holidays." I truly want Jewish people to enjoy their week of Hanukkah; I don't even mind secular people enjoying Secular Christmas. If they celebrate the day differently than I would, it doesn't matter. It's not my holiday they're trashing. And I don't mind them wishing me a happy holiday. I will gladly celebrate Christian Christmas, and be glad that they wished me a happy one. They spoke better than they knew, God bless 'em.
So don't get bent out of shape when you hear, "Happy Holidays." Better a genuine "Happy Holidays" than a fake "Merry Christmas." And when you do hear "Merry Christmas," maybe it will actually mean something. Better yet, it may mean the right thing.
Given the antipathy I recently expressed regarding "Happy Turkey Day," you might think that I have similar feelings toward "Happy Holidays." The latter expression is, of course, a silly concession to political correctness, and another example of how Christians are expected to accept marginalization in favor of supposedly neutral secularism. Nonetheless, I really don't mind "Happy Holidays." The reason why is related to what has happened to Christmas in our culture.
Two Holidays
It is commonplace to complain that Christmas has been too commercialized; the real issue came earlier: Christmas being secularized. For a long time now, two separate holidays have coexisted by the same name and on the same day, often being celebrated by the same people at the same time. One commemorates the birth of the incarnate Son of God, and the incidental aspects of that birth become the symbols of the holiday: angels, shepherds, wise men, a man and his young pregnant bride, the animals in a stable, and one special star. There is music associated with this holiday: "O Come, O Come, Immanuel," "Silent Night," "Joy to the World," Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus".
The other holiday is a celebration of sentimentality and childhood fantasy. Its central event is the annual magical appearance of presents, and the incidental aspects of that event are the symbols of that holiday: snow, reindeer, evergreen trees, stockings, and the Right Jolly Old Elf himself, Santa Claus. There is music associated with this holiday as well: "White Christmas," "Winter Wonderland," "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and "Jingle Bell Rock."
These two holidays have coexisted for a long time, but have had great difficulty in being integrated. There is always the attempt by Christians to relate gift-giving to the gifts of the Magi; and it used to be fashionable for adults in the secular world to talk about the "real meaning" of the holiday as being The Birth of a Child (without, of course, any discussion of Who that Child was). But that was before it became fashionable for adults to proclaim, Peter Pannish-like, True Belief in Santa Claus, thus getting rid of any necessity of mentioning a Child at all. The secularization of Christmas has a long history. It was considered scandalous to the Puritans, who opposed its celebration at all.
Which Christmas?
I think that celebrating the entrance of the Son of God into the world is a good thing, and if it contains some of the trappings of Secular Christmas, I frankly don't mind, as long as the two Christmasses are kept in perspective. But over the last several years, I have noticed a virtual monopoly of Secular Christmas music, to the exclusion of Christian Christmas music, on the radio and in public places. It's easy to find snowmen and reindeer to put on your lawn; much more difficult to find nativity scenes. Rather than coexisting with Christian Christmas, Secular Christmas has been supplanting Christian Christmas for some time now. That, in turn, makes me a little uneasy when someone wishes me a "Merry Christmas." I'm beginning to wonder, "Which Christmas do you mean?"
The reality is, you have to know Christ to appreciate the Real Meaning of Christian Christmas. Sentimental hogwash about the Birth of New Hope is just meaningless words if you don't believe in the hope that Jesus came to give. And the majority of people you meet don't believe, and so they don't know, and can't appreciate what Christmas means to those who do know Christ. I'm frankly not sure I want everyone and their dog wishing me a "Merry Christmas." I'm not sure I want to wish everyone else a Merry Christmas, if some of them are going to understand by that phrase getting drunk on eggnog and maxing out their credit cards. It's a communication thing. "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
Happy Holidays
On the other hand, I don't mind wishing people "Happy Holidays." I truly want Jewish people to enjoy their week of Hanukkah; I don't even mind secular people enjoying Secular Christmas. If they celebrate the day differently than I would, it doesn't matter. It's not my holiday they're trashing. And I don't mind them wishing me a happy holiday. I will gladly celebrate Christian Christmas, and be glad that they wished me a happy one. They spoke better than they knew, God bless 'em.
So don't get bent out of shape when you hear, "Happy Holidays." Better a genuine "Happy Holidays" than a fake "Merry Christmas." And when you do hear "Merry Christmas," maybe it will actually mean something. Better yet, it may mean the right thing.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Don't "Happy Turkey Day" Me!
For a long time now, Thanksgiving has been my favorite holiday. This is undoubtedly to some extent because of how much I like to eat, but it was mostly because it seemed to me to be the least corrupted of the major holidays. Christmas was completely commercialized, Easter had been co-opted by bunnies and candy. Thanksgiving, of course, was dominated by feasts and football, but it seemed to me that I could more easily ignore that - I wasn't being bombarded by commercials from toy and candy manufacturers. Yes, the major focus was the Big Dinner, but sharing food with family is a bonding time. It wasn't about the meal; the meal was about the celebration, and yes, we always did remember to give thanks, to express our appreciation to God and to one another.
And so it was with dismay that I began hearing "Happy Turkey Day" years ago. To me, it was the equivalent of wishing someone a "Merry Presents Day" or "Happy Chocolate Bunny Day." Nothing like isolating the most superficial aspect of a holiday and identifying the whole with that one incidental part. And now I am seeing more encroachment on the actual meaning of the day. I'm sure it's just me paying more attention, rather than a significant, recent change. But I was watching the Thanksgiving Day parade today and noticed how few of the floats and balloons had anything to do with Thanksgiving at all. If one didn't know better (which I'm beginning to think I don't), one could have sworn that it was a Christmas parade. Which, of course, it was. The function of Thanksgiving these days is to power-shift the Christmas shopping season into high gear.
It seems clichéd to talk about the "real meaning" of holidays. And having brought it up, you may expect me to say something about Pilgrims and harsh winters. But the "real meaning" of a holiday isn't a history lesson - although it would be good if we remembered that glib talk about "harsh winters" obscures the reality that a full half of those who came across on the Mayflower had died by the time of that first Thanksgiving. All of those giving thanks (well, the English, anyway) were grieving loved ones who hadn't made it to that day; they had all been through a horrific experience and were still thankful.
But the "real meaning" of Thanksgiving is simply the giving of thanks - expressing gratitude to God for all the things He has given to us, and perhaps more importantly, remembering that they are blessings from God and that we owe gratitude for them. Thanksgiving is our cultural harvest festival, which has less meaning to us since we can get any kind of food we want at any time of the year, but nonetheless functions much as the Feast of Weeks (Lev 23:10-21) and the Feast of Tabernacles (Lev 23:34-43) did for the ancient Israelites (in the Israeli climate there are two harvests). Harvest is a good time to remember the Lord for His blessings. A farmer can plant and tend his crops faithfully, only to lost the whole thing in a drought. In an era in which so many consider themselves "self-made men" (and consequently feel no responsibility to others - "If I can do it, you can too"), it is important for us to recall that anything we do will come to nothing without the favor of the Lord.
For this, O Lord, please make us truly thankful.
And so it was with dismay that I began hearing "Happy Turkey Day" years ago. To me, it was the equivalent of wishing someone a "Merry Presents Day" or "Happy Chocolate Bunny Day." Nothing like isolating the most superficial aspect of a holiday and identifying the whole with that one incidental part. And now I am seeing more encroachment on the actual meaning of the day. I'm sure it's just me paying more attention, rather than a significant, recent change. But I was watching the Thanksgiving Day parade today and noticed how few of the floats and balloons had anything to do with Thanksgiving at all. If one didn't know better (which I'm beginning to think I don't), one could have sworn that it was a Christmas parade. Which, of course, it was. The function of Thanksgiving these days is to power-shift the Christmas shopping season into high gear.
It seems clichéd to talk about the "real meaning" of holidays. And having brought it up, you may expect me to say something about Pilgrims and harsh winters. But the "real meaning" of a holiday isn't a history lesson - although it would be good if we remembered that glib talk about "harsh winters" obscures the reality that a full half of those who came across on the Mayflower had died by the time of that first Thanksgiving. All of those giving thanks (well, the English, anyway) were grieving loved ones who hadn't made it to that day; they had all been through a horrific experience and were still thankful.
But the "real meaning" of Thanksgiving is simply the giving of thanks - expressing gratitude to God for all the things He has given to us, and perhaps more importantly, remembering that they are blessings from God and that we owe gratitude for them. Thanksgiving is our cultural harvest festival, which has less meaning to us since we can get any kind of food we want at any time of the year, but nonetheless functions much as the Feast of Weeks (Lev 23:10-21) and the Feast of Tabernacles (Lev 23:34-43) did for the ancient Israelites (in the Israeli climate there are two harvests). Harvest is a good time to remember the Lord for His blessings. A farmer can plant and tend his crops faithfully, only to lost the whole thing in a drought. In an era in which so many consider themselves "self-made men" (and consequently feel no responsibility to others - "If I can do it, you can too"), it is important for us to recall that anything we do will come to nothing without the favor of the Lord.
For this, O Lord, please make us truly thankful.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
40 Things to be Thankful For
My pastor gave us all an assignment: come up with 40 things we are thankful for between Sunday and Thanksgiving (American Thanksgiving Day, fourth Thursday in November, for my international readers). 40 is a number of testing and judgment in the Bible, isn't it? Hmmm.... Well, anyway, here goes:
- My salvation, the forgiveness of sins, given as a free gift of God's grace, on the basis of the sacrifice of His son Jesus.
- My wife, the greatest gift God ever gave me in this lifetime.
- My children. I don't talk about them much on this blog, because I want to preserve their privacy, but I cherish them beyond what words can say.
- My parents, who raised me to know Jesus and to know what that really means.
- My sister, an answer to prayer, whom I love deeply and was my best friend growing up.
- The salvation of my whole immediate family. I'm so grateful not to have to worry about their future.
- My health and the health of most of those near to me.
- A home to live in, and the kindness of those who helped us out when we were in transition.
- The ability to provide for my family.
- The written Word of God, God's gracious gift to reveal Himself to us.
- The work and sacrifice of many who copied the Bible and translated it, sometimes at the cost of their own lives, so that I might have a Bible to read in my own language.
- The witness of generations of Christians who kept the faith alive, often in the midst of persecution, so that the truth of my faith might be passed down to me.
- My friend Bob, who understands me better than most, and who has been generous, kind, and thoughtful toward me and my family in more ways than I can count.
- My friend Dave, who helped me hammer out what I believe and who I am, and helped me get through that time of being single and not very happy about that fact.
- My friend and pastor Bill, who went out on a limb to marry my wife and me, and proved to be a friend as well as a pastor.
- My friend Tom, who was my guitar buddy in seminary and my support in not following the crowd. I'm sorry that we lost touch. I hope you're doing well.
- My friend Scott, also from seminary, now a professor, and one of the most genuinely goodhearted and humble people I've ever known.
- My friend Ron, who was my best friend growing up in junior high, high school, and college. He was always a faithful friend, during my most introverted and shyest years.
- Shiloh, the band I was in in high school and early college - which is to say, Dave, Ron, Phil, and Melody. You were my social life during those crucial years, and I'm sure kept me doing the right thing.
- The privilege of living in a nation that is still, by world standards, pretty free, where I can believe and worship without fear of persecution.
- Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, where I learned to order and shape and make coherent and self-consistent the truths of what I believe.
- My years at Wayne State, where I grew from a boy to a man, and my understanding of life was broadened and deepened immeasurably.
- C.S. Lewis, who could take the most mundane of commonplace truths and build it up through a logical sequence to a conclusion that would leave you breathless.
- The example of Corrie ten Boom, who did what was right in the most difficult circumstances, paid the price, lived to tell the tale, and became an inspiration.
- The example of Brother Andrew, who risked everything to bring the Word of God to those who couldn't obtain it, and who still seeks out the suffering church to reach out to those in greatest need.
- The example of my mother, who through debilitating health and personal circumstances, has persevered in her faith and convictions without wavering.
- Beautiful fall days with blue skies (today is one).
- Holidays. I think we forget how much of the world is in a day-to-day struggle for existence, with no special days off.
- Joyful days - those rare occasions when my generally melancholy self takes a rest and my soul sings.
- The ability to read - something else we take for granted, but how many people throughout history and even now don't hold this key to the pleasure and enrichment that the written word holds.
- Music - the ability to appreciate it and whatever small talent I have for making it, and especially being able to praise God through it.
- The hope of life eternal with our Lord.
- The assurance that nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
- Truth. In a world which says there is no truth - or no truth that can be assuredly known - we are told, "You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
- People who are faithful in ministry. It's much more difficult than most people imagine. God bless those who do it faithfully for the long haul.
- Food to eat, water to drink, air to breathe - the things we take for granted almost every moment of our lives.
- Prayer - the infinite honor of direct communion between us and the Sovereign Lord of all creation.
- The ability to cooperate with God in accomplishing His plan, through prayer and action, and to be rewarded for obedience as a result. As Pascal said, in prayer, God allows us the dignity of being causes.
- The way in which God redeems, changes, and restores lives; not scrapping them and starting over with others, but healing what is already there.
- God's infinite mercy, patience, and grace, without which I would have been lost ten thousand times over.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Scot McKnight's "What Is the Emerging Church?" 2
This is the second part of a series summarizing and reflecting on Scot McKnight's "What is the Emerging Church?", a talk given at Westminster Theological Seminary on October 26, 2006. The first part is available here.
At this point of the talk, Dr. McKnight is using Lake Emerging as a metaphor for discussing the emerging movement, with four rivers flowing into it: Postmodernism, Praxis, Postevangelicalism, and Politics.
The second river Dr. McKnight discusses as flowing into Lake Emerging is that of praxis. Emerging types are more interested in what believers do than the minutia of what they believe. Orthopraxy rather than orthodoxy (living right as opposed to believing right) is what is focused on, largely because no two theologians have perfectly agreed on every point of doctrine, and Jesus didn't call us to a doctrinal position but to a way of life. The emerging movement is focused on "living the way of Jesus." Scot makes clear at this point that emerging leaders don't think that our relationship to God is established by what we do, or that it doesn't matter what we believe; they simply see how we live as being more important, on balance, than has been regarded previously.
Another current in the praxis river involves worship. Those in the emerging movement are interested in exploring different ways of worship, and recognizing that aesthetics matters in how one experiences God. They regard praxis as influencing theology, as well as the reverse, and wonder if the very layout of the places in which we worship influences the content of that worship and what we believe about God and His people. A third current is that of social justice. The emerging movement places great emphasis on justice, defined largely as eradication (or at least ameleoration) of poverty, racism, and social inequality. The main issue is engagement and involvement with the world: Christians are not to remove themselves from the world and hope for the return of Christ, but rather work for justice in the here and now.
What Scot regards as the heart of the praxis river is the missional element. This might best be described as being involved in God's redemptive work in the world. Whereas Evangelicalism was concerned with reaching people in the world and drawing them out of it and into the church, the emerging movement is concerned with the church itself moving into the world and participating in God's redemption of it. This involves more than just the spiritual aspect of people getting saved; it involves the whole person--physical, emotional, social, as well as spiritual.
The Post-evangelical River
The emerging conversation is also something of a protest movemet against evangelicalism--not to say that it rejects evangelicalism in toto, but that it views itself as rejecting what it sees as some of evangelicalism's flaws and limitations and going beyond evangelicalism. The emerging movement regards evangelicalism as reflecting a "Bible study piety," concerned more with doctrinal precision and condemning those who disagree than it is with living out the command to love. The goal of the Christian life is not to master the Gospel, but to be mastered by it and to exhibit it by living it out.
For something of the same reason, the emerging movement is rather suspicious of systematic theology, at least in terms of trying to formulate a definitive statement of the Gospel. The definitive statement of the gospel should be the lives of its adherents, not a linguistic formulation. The emerging movement is also suspicious of the "in vs. out" mentality of Evangelicalism--they're less sure that we can know with any confidence who is truly in the family of God and who isn't. For this reason, they prefer to view everyone as in or moving into the family of God, and trust that showing God's love to them will continue to draw them in. Scot offers a warning at this point: the good news is not just to be lived out, but also to be proclaimed, and our efforts at "living missionally" still need to have as their goal the redemption of everyone possible through Christ.
The Political River
The final river flowing into Lake Emerging is political (this aspect is largely on the American scene). Although emerging leaders sometimes talk about a bipartisan or non-partisan political involvement, they are largely on the political left. This comes from the social justice element of the praxis river: emerging believers tend to believe that part of working toward social justice in the world is prodding the government to do the same. Essentially, the emerging movement rejects the dichotomy between evangelism (how conservative Evangelicals relate to the world) and the social gospel (how the mainline churches relate to the world), drawing both together in its missional emphasis.
It appears to me that this "political river" is really little more than an outgrowth of the social justice aspect of the praxis river; perhaps not best described as a "river" in its own right at all. Scot's division may be valuable, however, because I think a number of people who consider themselves emerging in the US are basically Evangelicals with liberal political sympathies.
This short blog series has been less concise than I would have hoped (it was intended as one post) , and also more of a simple synopsis as opposed to a synopsis and reflection. I would welcome two things: if any of my readers haven't read Scot's paper for themselves by this time, please do download and read it. And I would appreciate any responses you might have to these ideas--either corrections to my understanding of what Scot has presented, or your impressions on any aspect of the subject matter itself.
At this point of the talk, Dr. McKnight is using Lake Emerging as a metaphor for discussing the emerging movement, with four rivers flowing into it: Postmodernism, Praxis, Postevangelicalism, and Politics.
The second river Dr. McKnight discusses as flowing into Lake Emerging is that of praxis. Emerging types are more interested in what believers do than the minutia of what they believe. Orthopraxy rather than orthodoxy (living right as opposed to believing right) is what is focused on, largely because no two theologians have perfectly agreed on every point of doctrine, and Jesus didn't call us to a doctrinal position but to a way of life. The emerging movement is focused on "living the way of Jesus." Scot makes clear at this point that emerging leaders don't think that our relationship to God is established by what we do, or that it doesn't matter what we believe; they simply see how we live as being more important, on balance, than has been regarded previously.
Another current in the praxis river involves worship. Those in the emerging movement are interested in exploring different ways of worship, and recognizing that aesthetics matters in how one experiences God. They regard praxis as influencing theology, as well as the reverse, and wonder if the very layout of the places in which we worship influences the content of that worship and what we believe about God and His people. A third current is that of social justice. The emerging movement places great emphasis on justice, defined largely as eradication (or at least ameleoration) of poverty, racism, and social inequality. The main issue is engagement and involvement with the world: Christians are not to remove themselves from the world and hope for the return of Christ, but rather work for justice in the here and now.
What Scot regards as the heart of the praxis river is the missional element. This might best be described as being involved in God's redemptive work in the world. Whereas Evangelicalism was concerned with reaching people in the world and drawing them out of it and into the church, the emerging movement is concerned with the church itself moving into the world and participating in God's redemption of it. This involves more than just the spiritual aspect of people getting saved; it involves the whole person--physical, emotional, social, as well as spiritual.
The Post-evangelical River
The emerging conversation is also something of a protest movemet against evangelicalism--not to say that it rejects evangelicalism in toto, but that it views itself as rejecting what it sees as some of evangelicalism's flaws and limitations and going beyond evangelicalism. The emerging movement regards evangelicalism as reflecting a "Bible study piety," concerned more with doctrinal precision and condemning those who disagree than it is with living out the command to love. The goal of the Christian life is not to master the Gospel, but to be mastered by it and to exhibit it by living it out.
For something of the same reason, the emerging movement is rather suspicious of systematic theology, at least in terms of trying to formulate a definitive statement of the Gospel. The definitive statement of the gospel should be the lives of its adherents, not a linguistic formulation. The emerging movement is also suspicious of the "in vs. out" mentality of Evangelicalism--they're less sure that we can know with any confidence who is truly in the family of God and who isn't. For this reason, they prefer to view everyone as in or moving into the family of God, and trust that showing God's love to them will continue to draw them in. Scot offers a warning at this point: the good news is not just to be lived out, but also to be proclaimed, and our efforts at "living missionally" still need to have as their goal the redemption of everyone possible through Christ.
The Political River
The final river flowing into Lake Emerging is political (this aspect is largely on the American scene). Although emerging leaders sometimes talk about a bipartisan or non-partisan political involvement, they are largely on the political left. This comes from the social justice element of the praxis river: emerging believers tend to believe that part of working toward social justice in the world is prodding the government to do the same. Essentially, the emerging movement rejects the dichotomy between evangelism (how conservative Evangelicals relate to the world) and the social gospel (how the mainline churches relate to the world), drawing both together in its missional emphasis.
It appears to me that this "political river" is really little more than an outgrowth of the social justice aspect of the praxis river; perhaps not best described as a "river" in its own right at all. Scot's division may be valuable, however, because I think a number of people who consider themselves emerging in the US are basically Evangelicals with liberal political sympathies.
This short blog series has been less concise than I would have hoped (it was intended as one post) , and also more of a simple synopsis as opposed to a synopsis and reflection. I would welcome two things: if any of my readers haven't read Scot's paper for themselves by this time, please do download and read it. And I would appreciate any responses you might have to these ideas--either corrections to my understanding of what Scot has presented, or your impressions on any aspect of the subject matter itself.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Scot McKnight's "What Is the Emerging Church?" 1
I've discussed before my gratitude to Scot McKnight for presenting the emerging movement in a way that is comprehensible to those who are just discovering and learning about it. On October 26, 2006, Scot spoke at Westminster Theological Seminary on the topic, "What is the Emerging Church?" The full text of Scot's talk is available at the Sacred Journey blog in PDF format for easy download and printing. I really recommend anyone interested in the emerging movement to check it out: it is highly readable, written with humor and grace, and appears to get to the heart of the component aspects of the emerging movement in a way that both makes sense and is very challenging.
I'm going to do Dr. McKnight an injustice now and summarize his summary, which I'm sure he already considered shorter and less nuanced than he would have liked. My hope is not to replace his work with a condensed version, but to give people a taste in hopes that they will check out the whole thing.
Scot makes a plea to allow people from within the emerging movement define themselves, rather than be defined by outsiders. This is a reasonable request, although my experience has been that most people from within that movement have a strong resistance to defining themselves, leaving the rest of us to our own devices in trying to get a handle on them. There's a bit of a private lingo going on (similar, I'd say, to the churchspeak that many emerging types find so exclusive among traditional evangelicals), and a sense that, "If you don't get it, you're simply not one of the 'in' crowd." Hence my gratitude to Dr. McKnight, once again, for being willing to bridge the gap and communicate to those of us who really want to know.
McKnight's Response to Carson's Response to Emerging
Scot's plea for the movement to be allowed to describe itself is proffered in response to D. A. Carson's Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, the best-known critique of the movement. Scot argues that Carson boils the emerging movement largely down to Brian McLaren and postmodern epistemology. Although Carson recognizes the nuances that distinguish "hard" and "soft" postmodernism, he doesn't apply these nuances to the differing currents within the emerging movement. Essentially, Carson equates emerging with postmodern epistemology, postmodern epistemology with a denial of truth, and then discusses at length what the Bible has to say about truth--which of course amounts to a categorical rejection of emerging. By contrast, Scot argues that in two years of close conversations with and prodding questions of leaders in the emerging movement, he has "never once heard any of them deny the truthfulness of the gospel or deny that there is truth in a hard postmodernist way" (the above-referenced pdf document, page 3; hereafter, "McKnight 3").
Far from being a theological movement based on a denial of truth, Dr. McKnight argues that emerging is an ecclesiological movement--an attempt to think about and "do" church in a different way. He recommends the book, Emerging Churches: Creating Christian Community in Postmodern Cultures by Gibbs and Bolger, as an introduction and analysis of the movement from within, and which defines the emerging movement in this way:
So emerging tends to look at itself based on what it is doing, as opposed to defining itself based on a particular theological position. It's also important to note that the emerging movement is broader and more diverse than Emergent, which properly refers to Emergent Village, a website and clearinghouse for a subset of emerging leaders who officially associate themselves with it.
Lake Emerging
In the heart of his address, Scot describes the emerging movement as "Lake Emerging," into which are flowing four rivers: postmodern, praxis, postevangelical, and politics. Various emerging types favor one or more of these rivers more than others; some are just dipping a toe into one or two, while others are paddling about in the middle of the lake itself. So even a description of these four won't completely describe every emerging person, but it will at least give a description of the various aspects of the movement.
River Postmodern may be the most controversial of the four, as well as the most difficult to pin down. While the flat denial of truth embraced by the harder postmodern philosophers is simply incompatable with Christianity, some aspects of postmodern thought are proving congenial to some Christians. In essence, the postmodern perspective simply recognizes that all individuals exist within a place, time, and culture, that to some extent defines what appears reasonable to them; getting outside the cultural circumstances of one's existence is impossible, so a body of objective, universal knowledge (e.g., a definitive systematic theology) is impossible to construct.
Scot distinguishes between three different types of "postmoderns" represented by the emerging movement. There are those who minister to postmoderns--i.e., viewing postmodernity as a part of the contemporary human condition that Christians need to reach into in order to rescue others from it. There are those who minister with postmoderns--i.e., they accept postmodernity as an inevitable fact of life in contemporary society, and so therefore that is the "world" in which we now are called to live out the Gospel. This would, in a sense, be a "seeker sensitive" model: adapting to the world in order to reach it. Most emerging Christians and churches, according to Dr. McKnight, fit into these two categories. The third kind are those who minister as postmoderns. What this means is not that they categorically deny truth, but they will say that only God Himself is Absolute Truth, and that truth can be experienced and lived out, but not known as a logical chain of propositions. Trying to pin God down in language and claiming that that language is the truth is called by some "linguistic idolotry" (LeRon Shults, quoted in McKnight 14).
Next up: the Praxis, Postevangelical, and Politics rivers
I'm going to do Dr. McKnight an injustice now and summarize his summary, which I'm sure he already considered shorter and less nuanced than he would have liked. My hope is not to replace his work with a condensed version, but to give people a taste in hopes that they will check out the whole thing.
Scot makes a plea to allow people from within the emerging movement define themselves, rather than be defined by outsiders. This is a reasonable request, although my experience has been that most people from within that movement have a strong resistance to defining themselves, leaving the rest of us to our own devices in trying to get a handle on them. There's a bit of a private lingo going on (similar, I'd say, to the churchspeak that many emerging types find so exclusive among traditional evangelicals), and a sense that, "If you don't get it, you're simply not one of the 'in' crowd." Hence my gratitude to Dr. McKnight, once again, for being willing to bridge the gap and communicate to those of us who really want to know.
McKnight's Response to Carson's Response to Emerging
Scot's plea for the movement to be allowed to describe itself is proffered in response to D. A. Carson's Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, the best-known critique of the movement. Scot argues that Carson boils the emerging movement largely down to Brian McLaren and postmodern epistemology. Although Carson recognizes the nuances that distinguish "hard" and "soft" postmodernism, he doesn't apply these nuances to the differing currents within the emerging movement. Essentially, Carson equates emerging with postmodern epistemology, postmodern epistemology with a denial of truth, and then discusses at length what the Bible has to say about truth--which of course amounts to a categorical rejection of emerging. By contrast, Scot argues that in two years of close conversations with and prodding questions of leaders in the emerging movement, he has "never once heard any of them deny the truthfulness of the gospel or deny that there is truth in a hard postmodernist way" (the above-referenced pdf document, page 3; hereafter, "McKnight 3").
Far from being a theological movement based on a denial of truth, Dr. McKnight argues that emerging is an ecclesiological movement--an attempt to think about and "do" church in a different way. He recommends the book, Emerging Churches: Creating Christian Community in Postmodern Cultures by Gibbs and Bolger, as an introduction and analysis of the movement from within, and which defines the emerging movement in this way:
Emerging churches are communities that practice the way of Jesus within postmodern cultures. This definition encompasses the nine practices. Emerging churches (1) identify with the life of Jesus, (2) transform the secular realm, and (3) live highly communal lives. Because of these three activities, they (4) welcome the stranger, (5) serve with generosity, (6) participate as producers, (7) create as created beings, (8) lead as a body, and (9) take part in spiritual activities. (Quoted in McKnight 7; italics in original.)
So emerging tends to look at itself based on what it is doing, as opposed to defining itself based on a particular theological position. It's also important to note that the emerging movement is broader and more diverse than Emergent, which properly refers to Emergent Village, a website and clearinghouse for a subset of emerging leaders who officially associate themselves with it.
Lake Emerging
In the heart of his address, Scot describes the emerging movement as "Lake Emerging," into which are flowing four rivers: postmodern, praxis, postevangelical, and politics. Various emerging types favor one or more of these rivers more than others; some are just dipping a toe into one or two, while others are paddling about in the middle of the lake itself. So even a description of these four won't completely describe every emerging person, but it will at least give a description of the various aspects of the movement.
River Postmodern may be the most controversial of the four, as well as the most difficult to pin down. While the flat denial of truth embraced by the harder postmodern philosophers is simply incompatable with Christianity, some aspects of postmodern thought are proving congenial to some Christians. In essence, the postmodern perspective simply recognizes that all individuals exist within a place, time, and culture, that to some extent defines what appears reasonable to them; getting outside the cultural circumstances of one's existence is impossible, so a body of objective, universal knowledge (e.g., a definitive systematic theology) is impossible to construct.
Scot distinguishes between three different types of "postmoderns" represented by the emerging movement. There are those who minister to postmoderns--i.e., viewing postmodernity as a part of the contemporary human condition that Christians need to reach into in order to rescue others from it. There are those who minister with postmoderns--i.e., they accept postmodernity as an inevitable fact of life in contemporary society, and so therefore that is the "world" in which we now are called to live out the Gospel. This would, in a sense, be a "seeker sensitive" model: adapting to the world in order to reach it. Most emerging Christians and churches, according to Dr. McKnight, fit into these two categories. The third kind are those who minister as postmoderns. What this means is not that they categorically deny truth, but they will say that only God Himself is Absolute Truth, and that truth can be experienced and lived out, but not known as a logical chain of propositions. Trying to pin God down in language and claiming that that language is the truth is called by some "linguistic idolotry" (LeRon Shults, quoted in McKnight 14).
Next up: the Praxis, Postevangelical, and Politics rivers
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Ben Witherington Throws Down the Political Gauntlet
I finally got around to reading Ben Witherington's recent post, "Evangelicals in a Post-Haggard, Post-Rumsfeld World." I had initially assumed that Dr. Witherington was merely discussing the fallout from the recent election, but there is a great deal more there than that. It's a very provocative piece, even though it doesn't grab the attention immediately, and well worth a serious read.
I've discussed my political perspectives briefly in two posts: one on the relationship between conservative Christians and the Republican party, and another on the philosophical concept of "rights" that so dominates American politics. It's an issue that I'm interested in, and yet a little reluctant to discuss in a public forum, partly because emotions run so high and partly because so many people have certain political opinions so wedded to their faith that questioning one appears to involve apostasizing from the other. And yet, that's all the more reason to speak out.
Dr. Witherington writes,
This is largely Dr. Witherington's point. He argues that the moral issues discussed in the New Testament have to do with wealth and poverty, taxes (paying them), sexual behavior (mostly heterosexual issues), behaviors and attitudes that divide believers, and war; many of these issues have been ignored or glossed over by the "religious right." He also sees the body of believers as responsible for the amelioration of social ills, rather than the government; and he is a (self-described) pacifist, so he sees no New Testament support for war at all and therefore no reason for Christians to support a government that is prosecuting a war.
My own response to Dr. Witherington's post is mixed. I'm not sure I agree with his list of issues that the NT focuses on; it doesn't seem to me that taxes and war are discussed in great detail, and there is plenty of evidence against the pacifist position in the Old Testament that is not contradicted in the New. Moreover, to argue that the New Testament writers don't place a burden on the government for the amelioration of social ills is to ignore the fact that all of the NT documents were written to people who had no immediate hope for any influence on governmental policy; they focus on individual and group behavior in the context of a hostile, pagan ruling order. The NT simply doesn't address principles for running a government; once again, one has to go to the OT for that, and there the evidence is clear that rulers were to care for the socially disadvantaged ("widows and orphans") and even to practice some degree of economic redistribution (the "year of Jubilee"). Ezekiel 34, which rails against the "shepherds" of Israel for a lack of care for the sheep, is almost assuredly referring to secular rulers--i.e., kings and lower governmental rulers.
It's my conviction that no political party will ever (or can ever) represent Christians fully. I see a greater openness these days to rethinking what Christians should regard as important in our political discourse. I think that doing that rethinking is important. What shouldn't be done (and what I have seen rather frequently) is a dismissal of the traditional foci of religious right issues (opposition to abortion, the gay rights agenda, pornography, euthanasia, etc.) so as to favor traditionally liberal policies (social justice, assistance for those in need, environmentalism, internationalism, reluctance to pursue war). I don't see why both of these foci cannot be pursued (if indeed we view them to be biblical); the only trouble is in finding candidates who support all of these issues. We may have to weigh positives and negatives of various political candidates, instead of following a more narrowly construed agenda that can be identified with a single party. But who said being more biblical would be easy?
I've discussed my political perspectives briefly in two posts: one on the relationship between conservative Christians and the Republican party, and another on the philosophical concept of "rights" that so dominates American politics. It's an issue that I'm interested in, and yet a little reluctant to discuss in a public forum, partly because emotions run so high and partly because so many people have certain political opinions so wedded to their faith that questioning one appears to involve apostasizing from the other. And yet, that's all the more reason to speak out.
Dr. Witherington writes,
[T]he alliance between Evangelicals and the hard line conservatives in the Republican party has made it difficult for many Evangelicals to see the difference in our time between being a Christian and being an American, and in particular being a certain kind of an American—namely a Republican. The problem is that this reflects a certain kind of mental ghettoizing of the Gospel, a blunting of its prophetic voice on issues ranging from war to poverty, and sometimes this even comes with the not so subtle suggestion that to be un-American (defined as being opposed to certain key Republican credo items) is to be un-Christian.In other words, many people have adopted being a conservative Republican as a part of their faith--for some, the most important part. I actually do understand this point of view, partly because of the hostility held by many on the liberal side of the political fence to Bible-believing Christians, partly because of the overwhelming nature of abortion as a political and social issue, and partly because of the ever-increasing social agenda of those who wish to push the normalization of practices that many Christians find intolerable. Social-issues conservatives have felt that they had nowhere to go but the Republican party, and have as a result largely adopted its economic and foreign policy positions as well. The war in Iraq may have done us the inadvertent service of forcing us to reconsider this political alliance, and look to see if there are issues that demand our moral attention other than the ones focused on by the leaders of the "religious right."
This is largely Dr. Witherington's point. He argues that the moral issues discussed in the New Testament have to do with wealth and poverty, taxes (paying them), sexual behavior (mostly heterosexual issues), behaviors and attitudes that divide believers, and war; many of these issues have been ignored or glossed over by the "religious right." He also sees the body of believers as responsible for the amelioration of social ills, rather than the government; and he is a (self-described) pacifist, so he sees no New Testament support for war at all and therefore no reason for Christians to support a government that is prosecuting a war.
My own response to Dr. Witherington's post is mixed. I'm not sure I agree with his list of issues that the NT focuses on; it doesn't seem to me that taxes and war are discussed in great detail, and there is plenty of evidence against the pacifist position in the Old Testament that is not contradicted in the New. Moreover, to argue that the New Testament writers don't place a burden on the government for the amelioration of social ills is to ignore the fact that all of the NT documents were written to people who had no immediate hope for any influence on governmental policy; they focus on individual and group behavior in the context of a hostile, pagan ruling order. The NT simply doesn't address principles for running a government; once again, one has to go to the OT for that, and there the evidence is clear that rulers were to care for the socially disadvantaged ("widows and orphans") and even to practice some degree of economic redistribution (the "year of Jubilee"). Ezekiel 34, which rails against the "shepherds" of Israel for a lack of care for the sheep, is almost assuredly referring to secular rulers--i.e., kings and lower governmental rulers.
It's my conviction that no political party will ever (or can ever) represent Christians fully. I see a greater openness these days to rethinking what Christians should regard as important in our political discourse. I think that doing that rethinking is important. What shouldn't be done (and what I have seen rather frequently) is a dismissal of the traditional foci of religious right issues (opposition to abortion, the gay rights agenda, pornography, euthanasia, etc.) so as to favor traditionally liberal policies (social justice, assistance for those in need, environmentalism, internationalism, reluctance to pursue war). I don't see why both of these foci cannot be pursued (if indeed we view them to be biblical); the only trouble is in finding candidates who support all of these issues. We may have to weigh positives and negatives of various political candidates, instead of following a more narrowly construed agenda that can be identified with a single party. But who said being more biblical would be easy?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Expandable Posts in Main Page
I'd like to thank both Hans and Ramani for their joint work on "Super Peek-A-Boo Posts," a hack for Blogger Beta that allows posts on main and archive pages to appear condensed, with a link reading "Read More" that expands the post to its full size, and then another link reading "Summary Only" at the end of the full-size post that allows you to condense the post back to its first few lines. (Short posts like this one won't be affected.)
If you are using Blogger Beta and would like to implement this hack, click on either of the two hyperlinked names to get to their site that shows how to set it up. Also, if you restrict javascript, you may need to allow it for www.anniyalogam.com in order to see the effect; I believe that if you don't allow it, you'll simply see the full text of all posts without any being condensed (i.e., the way it's always looked before).
Once again, thanks guys.
If you are using Blogger Beta and would like to implement this hack, click on either of the two hyperlinked names to get to their site that shows how to set it up. Also, if you restrict javascript, you may need to allow it for www.anniyalogam.com in order to see the effect; I believe that if you don't allow it, you'll simply see the full text of all posts without any being condensed (i.e., the way it's always looked before).
Once again, thanks guys.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Why Evangelical Christians Can't Confess Sin
In the midst of all of the pontification from Left and Right regarding Ted Haggard, Scot McKnight as usual cuts directly to the heart of the real issue: Evangelical Christianity creates a situation in which it is virtually impossible for believers to confess sin.
Of course, we believe in confession, repentance, forgiveness, and restoration. That's the bait we present to unbelievers: come to Jesus and He will save you from your sins. He will rescue you, restore you, change you, and forgive you. And we really believe it. We love to see someone come to newfound faith in Christ, to fall upon the mercy of God. We don't expect them to be perfect; it's because they're not perfect that they need a Savior. We needed a Savior too; we understand; it's okay. Each of us comes to the Lord Just As I Am. The Amazing Grace the Lord offers us is there "to save a wretch like me." We're all in the same boat. Not one of us could stand before God on our own merits; it's only by the sacrifice Jesus made for us that we can be reconciled to God.
And then, the newfound believer begins his Christian walk.
And at first, we expect missteps. They're new in the faith; we don't want to be harsh toward a baby Christian. Stay with us, get discipled, learn what this Christian life is all about. You got questions; we got answers. Still struggling in some areas? Let's pray. You seem confused on this issue; let me show you what the Bible has to say on it. And the new believer really is changing; old things really are passing away; everything really is becoming new. It's a wonderful experience.
I'd say, on average, a new believer is given about six months to get his act together.
And then, you know, you really should be beyond that struggle. We've talked about this several times; you know what the Word says. God gives you the power to overcome; you just need to give it all to Him. It's time to get past the milk and get on to the meat, you know. Do you think Jesus would be pleased with that?
And the wierd thing is that unless we're Wesleyan perfectionists (which hardly anyone is anymore--even Wesley held it as a theoretical and didn't claim it for himself), we all believe that sanctification is an ongoing process in each one of our lives and that we will not be totally perfected in this lifetime. That doesn't mean that we shouldn't be growing or changing, or that we shouldn't find victory over sinful patterns, but it does mean that we will have issues that God is dealing with--which is to say, issues of sin, throughout our lives. And depending on the person, they just might not be the kinds of safe, innocuous sins that nobody really worries about.
And this includes leaders.
I've heard the quote from James a thousand times: "Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly" (3:1). Which, of course, means that if you're going to presume to teach others, you darn well better have your act together. Right? Interesting, then, that James follows it up with, "We all stumble in many ways. If anyone is never at fault in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to keep his whole body in check" (3:2). And unless you're a Wesleyan perfectionist.... well, you get the idea. We all stumble in many ways. But how many leaders, of any denomination, from any tradition, with any theology, seriously acknowledge that?
We have created a situation in which believers, and especially leaders, cannot acknowledge failure--which is to say, sin, to one another, even though James also says, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed" (5:16). This is the Bible, this is a command, and it's a command that most of us are disobeying most of the time. And so issues that begin as temptations grow and fester in the darkness, because we're taught not to be real about where we are and what we're struggling with. It grows to the point where there is overt sin, not just in the imagination, not just in private, but with others, because it's not being dealt with through the very means that we offer to unbelievers. The grace that we offer to them, we don't take for ourselves. And so we're not healed, we struggle in silence. Until the silence is broken by scandal and disgrace, and people's lives are shattered.
Just to be clear: this is not an excuse for Ted Haggard. It is an indictment on how he, and most of the rest of us, don't deal with sin issues, because we feel we have to maintain an image that's above all that.
And that's how we're caught.
Of course, we believe in confession, repentance, forgiveness, and restoration. That's the bait we present to unbelievers: come to Jesus and He will save you from your sins. He will rescue you, restore you, change you, and forgive you. And we really believe it. We love to see someone come to newfound faith in Christ, to fall upon the mercy of God. We don't expect them to be perfect; it's because they're not perfect that they need a Savior. We needed a Savior too; we understand; it's okay. Each of us comes to the Lord Just As I Am. The Amazing Grace the Lord offers us is there "to save a wretch like me." We're all in the same boat. Not one of us could stand before God on our own merits; it's only by the sacrifice Jesus made for us that we can be reconciled to God.
And then, the newfound believer begins his Christian walk.
And at first, we expect missteps. They're new in the faith; we don't want to be harsh toward a baby Christian. Stay with us, get discipled, learn what this Christian life is all about. You got questions; we got answers. Still struggling in some areas? Let's pray. You seem confused on this issue; let me show you what the Bible has to say on it. And the new believer really is changing; old things really are passing away; everything really is becoming new. It's a wonderful experience.
I'd say, on average, a new believer is given about six months to get his act together.
And then, you know, you really should be beyond that struggle. We've talked about this several times; you know what the Word says. God gives you the power to overcome; you just need to give it all to Him. It's time to get past the milk and get on to the meat, you know. Do you think Jesus would be pleased with that?
And the wierd thing is that unless we're Wesleyan perfectionists (which hardly anyone is anymore--even Wesley held it as a theoretical and didn't claim it for himself), we all believe that sanctification is an ongoing process in each one of our lives and that we will not be totally perfected in this lifetime. That doesn't mean that we shouldn't be growing or changing, or that we shouldn't find victory over sinful patterns, but it does mean that we will have issues that God is dealing with--which is to say, issues of sin, throughout our lives. And depending on the person, they just might not be the kinds of safe, innocuous sins that nobody really worries about.
And this includes leaders.
I've heard the quote from James a thousand times: "Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly" (3:1). Which, of course, means that if you're going to presume to teach others, you darn well better have your act together. Right? Interesting, then, that James follows it up with, "We all stumble in many ways. If anyone is never at fault in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to keep his whole body in check" (3:2). And unless you're a Wesleyan perfectionist.... well, you get the idea. We all stumble in many ways. But how many leaders, of any denomination, from any tradition, with any theology, seriously acknowledge that?
We have created a situation in which believers, and especially leaders, cannot acknowledge failure--which is to say, sin, to one another, even though James also says, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed" (5:16). This is the Bible, this is a command, and it's a command that most of us are disobeying most of the time. And so issues that begin as temptations grow and fester in the darkness, because we're taught not to be real about where we are and what we're struggling with. It grows to the point where there is overt sin, not just in the imagination, not just in private, but with others, because it's not being dealt with through the very means that we offer to unbelievers. The grace that we offer to them, we don't take for ourselves. And so we're not healed, we struggle in silence. Until the silence is broken by scandal and disgrace, and people's lives are shattered.
Just to be clear: this is not an excuse for Ted Haggard. It is an indictment on how he, and most of the rest of us, don't deal with sin issues, because we feel we have to maintain an image that's above all that.
And that's how we're caught.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
The Ted Haggard Scandal
How will we, and how should we, respond?
Yet another evangelical scandal.
I wonder if the body of Christ as a whole will ever learn how to deal with the moral failures of its leaders. The predictable reactions have already begun. First, separation into two camps: Shoot the Wounded and Excuse the Sinner.
The Shoot the Wounded crowd has already begun to get its digs in. There are two motivations: a desire to distance oneself (and one's chosen Christian subsgroup) from the offending party (and his chosen Christian subgroup), and a sense of vindication that it's the other guy's brand of Christianity that got tarred. For example, we have Phil Johnson arguing that
The logic that is being attempted here can be expressed syllogistically as follows:
I haven't seen much from the Excuse the Sinner crowd yet, but it will happen. We can't possibly imagine the stresses Brother Ted was under; we are all sinners, after all; who among us could cast the first stone; it's our duty to forgive; what would Jesus do? (This last one is taken in the most marshmallowy sense possible.) There is truth in all of these statements, but there is a crucial difference between forgiveness and restoration on one hand, and making excuses and denying responsibility on the other.
At the time of this writing, Haggard claims that he "purchased methamphetamine from a gay escort after contacting him for a massage, but never used the drugs." I'm sorry, but this smacks much too much of admitting only what on has to, based on what the hard evidence has already proven to be true. Who buys meth with no prior history of drug use? And Haggard could have gone to a health club for a massage; why hire an, erm, escort? If Haggard wants any credibility in the future at all, he needs to come clean with what really was going on in his life. Which is not to say that he needs to do that publicly right now; I don't think he needs to talk to the press at all during this time. But if he's going to do so, saying something plausible might be a good way of going about it.
Thank God that those two crowds aren't the only ones out there. I do think that some people are getting it right. Michael Spencer writes,
The truth is, Christian leaders are just people. If they're doing their jobs right, they merely act as signposts, pointing others to Christ. The attempt to make them more than that, to elevate them on a pedestal, to follow them rather than the Lord they serve; or conversely, to make them emblematic of All that is Wrong with the Church Today, is a form of idolatry. And the sin of idolotry is committed, not by the idol, but by the one who worships it.
I wonder if the body of Christ as a whole will ever learn how to deal with the moral failures of its leaders. The predictable reactions have already begun. First, separation into two camps: Shoot the Wounded and Excuse the Sinner.
The Shoot the Wounded crowd has already begun to get its digs in. There are two motivations: a desire to distance oneself (and one's chosen Christian subsgroup) from the offending party (and his chosen Christian subgroup), and a sense of vindication that it's the other guy's brand of Christianity that got tarred. For example, we have Phil Johnson arguing that
The fashionable brand of NAE/Christianity Today-style "evangelicalism" actually abandoned historic evangelical principles long ago, and hasn't taken a firm stand for biblical and evangelical doctrine for some time. The current scandal is only a symptom of that much deeper problem.And Ingrid Schlueter writes
The sad truth is that evangelicals have asked for this for a long time. Rather than be about the Great Commission left us by Jesus Christ, Christians have sought temporal and political power and influence.So you see, Ted Haggard isn't just Ted Haggard and a moral failure isn't just a moral failure; it's a Symptom of the Sad State of the Apostate Church of Our Day.
The logic that is being attempted here can be expressed syllogistically as follows:
- Ted Haggard has been a representative of the kind of evangelical / charismatic / megachurch / politically-conservative / seeker-sensitive / arminian / market-driven (choose one or more epithets) "Christianity" that I (to put it mildly) disapprove of;
- Ted Haggard is guilty of moral failure and probably of living a double life;
- Therefore, the kind of evangelical / charismatic / megachurch / politically-conservative / seeker-sensitive / arminian / market-driven "Christianity" that I disapprove of has been demonstrated to be morally bankrupt.
I haven't seen much from the Excuse the Sinner crowd yet, but it will happen. We can't possibly imagine the stresses Brother Ted was under; we are all sinners, after all; who among us could cast the first stone; it's our duty to forgive; what would Jesus do? (This last one is taken in the most marshmallowy sense possible.) There is truth in all of these statements, but there is a crucial difference between forgiveness and restoration on one hand, and making excuses and denying responsibility on the other.
At the time of this writing, Haggard claims that he "purchased methamphetamine from a gay escort after contacting him for a massage, but never used the drugs." I'm sorry, but this smacks much too much of admitting only what on has to, based on what the hard evidence has already proven to be true. Who buys meth with no prior history of drug use? And Haggard could have gone to a health club for a massage; why hire an, erm, escort? If Haggard wants any credibility in the future at all, he needs to come clean with what really was going on in his life. Which is not to say that he needs to do that publicly right now; I don't think he needs to talk to the press at all during this time. But if he's going to do so, saying something plausible might be a good way of going about it.
Thank God that those two crowds aren't the only ones out there. I do think that some people are getting it right. Michael Spencer writes,
I’m a preacher and a sinner. I have intimate knowledge of what it’s like to be the person who is preaching against an issue where I am personally failing.... If we aren’t willing to be humiliated to know Christ, we are quite likely not going to know him at all.David Wayne writes,
Christian engagement with the world (whether political, social, evangelisitc or otherwise) is not based on a position of moral authority. It is based on grace.... But let's also be careful that we not assume some moral superiority to, or moral authority 0ver, Ted Haggard.And Ben Witherington makes some very good points on accountability and being real with temptation and sexual issues among pastors.
The truth is, Christian leaders are just people. If they're doing their jobs right, they merely act as signposts, pointing others to Christ. The attempt to make them more than that, to elevate them on a pedestal, to follow them rather than the Lord they serve; or conversely, to make them emblematic of All that is Wrong with the Church Today, is a form of idolatry. And the sin of idolotry is committed, not by the idol, but by the one who worships it.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Maintenance or Mission?
The following excerpt from the article, "Good News People," by Harold Percy, allegedly appeared on the Crossmarks website, although I couldn't find it there, and has been republished on A Peculiar Prophet and Danno's Dangerous Mind. I think it has a lot of very, very good stuff on how churches need to look at reaching the world.
MAINTENANCE OR MISSION?
MAINTENANCE OR MISSION?
- In measuring their effectiveness, the maintenance congregation asks, "How many pastoral visits are being made? The mission congregation asks, "How many disciples are being made?"
- When contemplating some form of change, the maintenance congregation says, "If this proves upsetting to any of our members, we won't do it." The mission congregation says, "If this will help us reach someone on the outside, we will take the risk and do it."
- When thinking about change, the majority of members in a maintenance congregation ask, "How will this affect me?" The majority of members in the mission congregation ask, "Will this increase our ability to reach those outside?"
- When thinking of its vision for ministry, the maintenance congregation says, "We have to be faithful to our past." The mission congregation says, "We have to be faithful to our future."
- The pastor in the maintenance congregation says to the newcomer, "I'd like to introduce you to some of our members." In the mission congregation the members say, "We'd like to introduce you to our pastor."
- When confronted with a legitimate pastoral concern, the pastor in the maintenance congregation asks, "How can I meet this need?" The pastor in the mission congregation asks, "How can this need be met?"
- The maintenance congregation seeks to avoid conflict at any cost (but rarely succeeds). The mission congregation understands that conflict is the price of progress, and is willing to pay the price. It understands that it cannot take everyone with it. This causes some grief, but it does not keep it from doing what needs to be done.
- The leadership style in the maintenance congregation is primarily managerial, where leaders try to keep everything in order and running smoothly. The leadership style in a mission congregation is primarily transformational, casting a vision of what can be, and marching off the map in order to bring the vision into reality.
- The maintenance congregation is concerned with their congregation, its organizations and structure, its constitutions and committees. The mission congregation is concerned with the culture, with understanding how secular people think and what makes them tick. It tries to determine their needs and their points of accessibility to the Gospel.
- When thinking about growth, the maintenance congregations asks, "How many Lutherans live within a twenty-minute drive of this church?" The mission congregation asks, "How many unchurched people live within a twenty-minute drive of this church?"
- The maintenance congregation looks at the community and asks, "How can we get these people to support our congregation?" The mission congregation asks, "How can the Church support these people?"
- The maintenance congregation thinks about how to save their congregation. The mission congregation thinks about how to reach the world.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The Successes and Failures of the Reformation
489 years ago, the world was changed by a someone tacking a notice up to a church bulletin board. Who knew?
Okay, it wasn't a bulletin board. But that was what the door of the church in Wittenburg was used for. Martin Luther couldn't possibly have imagined the impact. He was hoping to start a limited discussion to reform a specific abuse within the Church; he ended up unleashing a huge movement that irrevocably altered the nature of the church as a whole. And therein lie both the successes and the failures of the Reformation.
Luther's immediate concern was the issue of indulgences. He did not, at the time of posting the 95 Theses, challenge the authority of the Pope or the sacramental system. He was only beginning to come to an understanding of justification by faith through his reading of Galatians and Romans. The last thing he was looking for was to break off from the established church and start his own.
Yet all these things he did. It is seldom noted how much the Reformation illustrates the law of unintended consequences.
The Reformation breathed new life into a Christianity that had grown corrupt with wealth and worldly power. It established the Bible as the sole authority of Christian faith and practice, removing the power of the Church from that position. It reawakened an understanding of salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone, independent of the mediation of the Church and its sacraments. It put the Bible back into the hands of the people so that they could have access to God's special revelation for themselves. It reduced, to some degree, the gulf separating clergy from laity, reestablished the dignity of all work (not just clerical work), and indirectly fueled a movement toward literacy and free enterprise that had profound socioeconomic effects on the modern world. Martin Luther was arguably the most influential person of the last millenium, and we should thank God for the wonderful things that his courage and insight have bequeathed upon us.
And yet.
The great benefits of the Reformation came at the expense of the division of the Church. For a millenium after the council of Acts 15, there was a sense that the church was a unity, that debates and disputes should be brought to councils and settled, so that Christianity could speak with one voice. Even after the division between East and West, there was still a sense that this was not how things should be, that the divided halves of the Church would one day be reconciled. Luther did not intend to break the Church again, but that is what his actions did. I do not argue that this was unnecessary, and it was not, after all, Luther who did the breaking; the Roman church broke him off, and with him, all those who saw the truth of what he was proclaiming. In the early years of the Reformation there was a dream of a unified Protestant movement, a new True Church raised up in opposition to the decadent false one, a dream that was shattered when Luther wrote on a table at Marburg, "This is my body."
The weak side of the sole authority of Scripture and the priesthood of all believers was the inability of these believers to come to unity on the meaning of Scripture. And once the precedent had been set to divide rather than compromise what one believes to be the truth, division became the hallmark of the Protestant movement. We have divided over the meaning and administration of the Lord's Supper and Baptism; we have divided over various forms of church government; we have divided over differing understandings of the respective roles of predestination and free will; we have divided over differing forms of church services, over differing understandings of spiritual gifts, over differing understandings of the role of believers in civil society. We have divided and divided and divided and divided. Is it any wonder that an unbelieving world increasingly says, "A pox on all your houses"?
What all this division has accomplished, in the long run, is the inability of the Church to function in a unified way to accomplish the goals set out for it by God through Scripture. One of the things that the Reformation did was to change our understanding of the nature of the universal (once called catholic) Church. We pay lip service to the idea that The Church of True Believers as God Sees It is spiritually unified; pity that there is no evidence of it on the ground. Most of our cities are dotted with small churches, each struggling for survival, each competing for its share of the shrinking portion of the population that thinks that Christianity has anything meaningful to say to contemporary life. If only we could find a way to work together! If only we could offer the unbeliever one choice, not dozens!
I don't have an answer. I am a Protestant; I believe in sola scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia. I am deeply grateful to Martin Luther, to William Tyndale, to John Wesley, to them and countless others that struggled, were persecuted, and in some cases died, to give me a Bible in my own language to read and the understanding of access to God and forgiveness of sins through faith in Christ alone. But as a result of being a Protestant, I belong to a particular church that has a particular position on all the topics I have listed above. There is no way, in the contemporary context, to put Humpty Dumpty together again.
The great failure of the Reformation was simply that it didn't actually reform anything. It created something new, in which people who believed something different could have a place to exercise that belief. But it didn't create the opportunity for people who have differing doctrinal convictions to be able to work through those convictions, perhaps come to a mediating position, and perhaps find unity and continue to worship together.
Perhaps we need a new Reformation, to tie up the loose ends of the old one. With that thought in mind, Happy Reformation Day.
Okay, it wasn't a bulletin board. But that was what the door of the church in Wittenburg was used for. Martin Luther couldn't possibly have imagined the impact. He was hoping to start a limited discussion to reform a specific abuse within the Church; he ended up unleashing a huge movement that irrevocably altered the nature of the church as a whole. And therein lie both the successes and the failures of the Reformation.
Luther's immediate concern was the issue of indulgences. He did not, at the time of posting the 95 Theses, challenge the authority of the Pope or the sacramental system. He was only beginning to come to an understanding of justification by faith through his reading of Galatians and Romans. The last thing he was looking for was to break off from the established church and start his own.
Yet all these things he did. It is seldom noted how much the Reformation illustrates the law of unintended consequences.
The Reformation breathed new life into a Christianity that had grown corrupt with wealth and worldly power. It established the Bible as the sole authority of Christian faith and practice, removing the power of the Church from that position. It reawakened an understanding of salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone, independent of the mediation of the Church and its sacraments. It put the Bible back into the hands of the people so that they could have access to God's special revelation for themselves. It reduced, to some degree, the gulf separating clergy from laity, reestablished the dignity of all work (not just clerical work), and indirectly fueled a movement toward literacy and free enterprise that had profound socioeconomic effects on the modern world. Martin Luther was arguably the most influential person of the last millenium, and we should thank God for the wonderful things that his courage and insight have bequeathed upon us.
And yet.
The great benefits of the Reformation came at the expense of the division of the Church. For a millenium after the council of Acts 15, there was a sense that the church was a unity, that debates and disputes should be brought to councils and settled, so that Christianity could speak with one voice. Even after the division between East and West, there was still a sense that this was not how things should be, that the divided halves of the Church would one day be reconciled. Luther did not intend to break the Church again, but that is what his actions did. I do not argue that this was unnecessary, and it was not, after all, Luther who did the breaking; the Roman church broke him off, and with him, all those who saw the truth of what he was proclaiming. In the early years of the Reformation there was a dream of a unified Protestant movement, a new True Church raised up in opposition to the decadent false one, a dream that was shattered when Luther wrote on a table at Marburg, "This is my body."
The weak side of the sole authority of Scripture and the priesthood of all believers was the inability of these believers to come to unity on the meaning of Scripture. And once the precedent had been set to divide rather than compromise what one believes to be the truth, division became the hallmark of the Protestant movement. We have divided over the meaning and administration of the Lord's Supper and Baptism; we have divided over various forms of church government; we have divided over differing understandings of the respective roles of predestination and free will; we have divided over differing forms of church services, over differing understandings of spiritual gifts, over differing understandings of the role of believers in civil society. We have divided and divided and divided and divided. Is it any wonder that an unbelieving world increasingly says, "A pox on all your houses"?
What all this division has accomplished, in the long run, is the inability of the Church to function in a unified way to accomplish the goals set out for it by God through Scripture. One of the things that the Reformation did was to change our understanding of the nature of the universal (once called catholic) Church. We pay lip service to the idea that The Church of True Believers as God Sees It is spiritually unified; pity that there is no evidence of it on the ground. Most of our cities are dotted with small churches, each struggling for survival, each competing for its share of the shrinking portion of the population that thinks that Christianity has anything meaningful to say to contemporary life. If only we could find a way to work together! If only we could offer the unbeliever one choice, not dozens!
I don't have an answer. I am a Protestant; I believe in sola scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia. I am deeply grateful to Martin Luther, to William Tyndale, to John Wesley, to them and countless others that struggled, were persecuted, and in some cases died, to give me a Bible in my own language to read and the understanding of access to God and forgiveness of sins through faith in Christ alone. But as a result of being a Protestant, I belong to a particular church that has a particular position on all the topics I have listed above. There is no way, in the contemporary context, to put Humpty Dumpty together again.
The great failure of the Reformation was simply that it didn't actually reform anything. It created something new, in which people who believed something different could have a place to exercise that belief. But it didn't create the opportunity for people who have differing doctrinal convictions to be able to work through those convictions, perhaps come to a mediating position, and perhaps find unity and continue to worship together.
Perhaps we need a new Reformation, to tie up the loose ends of the old one. With that thought in mind, Happy Reformation Day.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Wonderful Quote of the Week
"It's time for the whole church to stop sending mixed messages like 'Sex is dirty and unholy, save it for the one you really love and marry'."
--from Ben Witherington, "After the Foley Follies, The Catholic Temperature Rises."
--from Ben Witherington, "After the Foley Follies, The Catholic Temperature Rises."
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Making Your Blog Readable
How to make text and columns larger in Blogger
Tired of skinny columns of tiny text in your blog? I guarantee you, your readers probably are.
A few short hacks in your Blogger template are all that's necessary to make your blog much more readable. As in, small changes in six lines. Sound good? Okay, here goes:
First, you'll have to go to the template tab in the management section of your blog. Choose "Edit HTML." The first, best thing to do here is to back up your present template. Click "Download Full Template" and save it somewhere on your present computer. This way, you can get back to square one if you mess something up.
Now, scroll down in the template code until you come to a section that looks something like this:
I'm using the Blogger Beta version of the Minima Blue template; yours might look somewhat different. See the three lines that have either
Your readers, incidentally, can change the text size themselves, either by using the "View > Text Size" drop down menus in Explorer, or by hitting "Ctrl-plus" (i.e., "Ctrl-=") or "Ctrl-minus" in Firefox. (Sorry, if you're using other browsers, I can't help you.) So there's really no reason on a website to make the main text size anything other than "medium."
Anyway, now that you've got the text to a readable size, you're going to want to change the column sizes. Scroll further down until you see a section that looks like this:
(If you're using the older Blogger, you'll be looking for a section entitled "Content" instead. I don't want to reproduce that code here, to avoid confusion.) See the lines that say
The number of pixels is relatively small because older monitors had a low screen resolution; a larger number could potentially make your blog too wide, with text running off the sides of the screen so your blog would difficult or impossible to read. The crazy thing is, the widths don't need to be specified as a number of pixels at all; they can be specified as a percentage of screen size. That makes a lot more sense, since you don't know the screen sizes of your readers' monitors. If you specify percentages, your blog will resize itself to fit all your readers' screen sizes automatically. Cool, huh?
So each of these three numbers has to be changed to a percent. It's best not to add up to a full 100%, so you have some space between columns and at the edges of the screen. Here's how mine looks:
And that's it. Really. You've got your text and the widths of your columns set; with those six minor changes, you've just overhauled the whole look of your blog. If you like how it looks, this would be a good time to save it and download another backup of your template.
Now in my case, I decided that I wanted my sidebar content and my comments to be in a text a bit smaller than the text of the main posts. No problem. Scrolling further down to the section that deals with comments, look for code that looks like this:
This time you need to actually add in a line that specifies the type size for comments to be small. Here it is:
Now do the same thing to the sidebar content. Here's the code you're looking for:
Add in the same line as above:
And there you have it!
Well, that's it. Give it a shot and spread the word. Readable blogs are only a few short keystrokes away!
A few short hacks in your Blogger template are all that's necessary to make your blog much more readable. As in, small changes in six lines. Sound good? Okay, here goes:
First, you'll have to go to the template tab in the management section of your blog. Choose "Edit HTML." The first, best thing to do here is to back up your present template. Click "Download Full Template" and save it somewhere on your present computer. This way, you can get back to square one if you mess something up.
Now, scroll down in the template code until you come to a section that looks something like this:
body {
background:$bgcolor;
margin:0;
color:$textcolor;
font:x-small "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, Sans-Serif;
font-size/* */:/**/small;
font-size: /**/small;
text-align: center;
}I'm using the Blogger Beta version of the Minima Blue template; yours might look somewhat different. See the three lines that have either
x-small or small in them? That's what makes your text so tiny. Change all of them to medium, so that your code looks like this:body {
background:$bgcolor;
margin:0;
color:$textcolor;
font:medium "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, Sans-Serif;
font-size/* */:/**/medium;
font-size: /**/medium;
text-align: center;
}Your readers, incidentally, can change the text size themselves, either by using the "View > Text Size" drop down menus in Explorer, or by hitting "Ctrl-plus" (i.e., "Ctrl-=") or "Ctrl-minus" in Firefox. (Sorry, if you're using other browsers, I can't help you.) So there's really no reason on a website to make the main text size anything other than "medium."
Anyway, now that you've got the text to a readable size, you're going to want to change the column sizes. Scroll further down until you see a section that looks like this:
/* Outer-Wrapper
----------------------------------------------- */
#outer-wrapper {
width: 660px;
margin:0 auto;
padding:10px;
text-align:left;
font: $bodyfont;
}
#main-wrapper {
width: 410px;
float: left;
word-wrap: break-word; /* fix for long text breaking sidebar float in IE */
}
#sidebar-wrapper {
width: 220px;
float: right;
word-wrap: break-word; /* fix for long text breaking sidebar float in IE */
}
(If you're using the older Blogger, you'll be looking for a section entitled "Content" instead. I don't want to reproduce that code here, to avoid confusion.) See the lines that say
width: and then have a number with px after it? These lines specify the overall width of your blog, the width of your main text, and the width of your sidebar, respectively, as a number of pixels (px).The number of pixels is relatively small because older monitors had a low screen resolution; a larger number could potentially make your blog too wide, with text running off the sides of the screen so your blog would difficult or impossible to read. The crazy thing is, the widths don't need to be specified as a number of pixels at all; they can be specified as a percentage of screen size. That makes a lot more sense, since you don't know the screen sizes of your readers' monitors. If you specify percentages, your blog will resize itself to fit all your readers' screen sizes automatically. Cool, huh?
So each of these three numbers has to be changed to a percent. It's best not to add up to a full 100%, so you have some space between columns and at the edges of the screen. Here's how mine looks:
/* Outer-Wrapper
----------------------------------------------- */
#outer-wrapper {
width: 90%;
margin:0 auto;
padding:10px;
text-align:left;
font: $bodyfont;
}
#main-wrapper {
width: 70%;
float: left;
word-wrap: break-word; /* fix for long text breaking sidebar float in IE */
}
#sidebar-wrapper {
width: 25%;
float: right;
word-wrap: break-word; /* fix for long text breaking sidebar float in IE */
}
And that's it. Really. You've got your text and the widths of your columns set; with those six minor changes, you've just overhauled the whole look of your blog. If you like how it looks, this would be a good time to save it and download another backup of your template.
Now in my case, I decided that I wanted my sidebar content and my comments to be in a text a bit smaller than the text of the main posts. No problem. Scrolling further down to the section that deals with comments, look for code that looks like this:
#comments-block {
margin:1em 0 1.5em;
line-height:1.6em;
}
This time you need to actually add in a line that specifies the type size for comments to be small. Here it is:
#comments-block {
margin:1em 0 1.5em;
line-height:1.6em;
font-size: small;
}
Now do the same thing to the sidebar content. Here's the code you're looking for:
.sidebar li {
margin:0;
padding:0 0 .25em 15px;
text-indent:-15px;
line-height:1.5em;
}Add in the same line as above:
.sidebar li {
margin:0;
padding:0 0 .25em 15px;
text-indent:-15px;
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}And there you have it!
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Friday, October 20, 2006
Marriage, RIP
Dr Ray Pritchard cites a Seattle Times article claiming, based on US Census statistics, that households headed by a married couple had fallen to less than 50% of total US households. A few numbers demonstrate the trend:
Profound isn't the half of it. This is the iceburg ripping into the hull of the Titanic.
Prichard discusses challenges for the Church to minister to the increasingly diverse groups of non-married people, rather than focusing on married families and having on the side a generic "singles" ministry. These challenges are certainly real and Prichard's suggestions are generally good, but don't address the implications of the social changes reflected by these statistics. Watters appears (in the single quote reported) to be attempting to minimize the issue. Marriage is only being delayed, not rejected. This seems better; in truth, it's almost as bad.
What we're seeing here is something that God designed and intended to function together as an organic whole being dissected into its constituent parts: marriage, parenthood, sexuality, and the image of God. The first social relationship ever entered into was created specifically by God. Here's the narrative:
The elements of marriage, sexuality, parenthood, and the image of God are all woven together in this fabric. Marriage is quite simply the fundamental social relationship; it is the first one in existence; it is the only one, in this narrative, that is allowed to trump prior family ties. It is the context in which sexuality occurs; it is the context in which parenthood occurs; it reflects the image of God (the relationship among the members of the Trinity) and transmits that image to the children. The metaphor of threads woven together into a fabric doesn't really do it justice: it's more like the separate organs of a living, breathing, multifaceted organism designed by God and given to us.
Our society is taking this living, organic being and inexorably ripping it into its constituent parts, in the naive assumption that the patient will survive the operation. Why should marriage ("a piece of paper") be necessary if two people are truly in love? Why should marriage be permanent? Why should sexuality be reserved only for marriage? Why should pregnancy be a necessary consideration for sexuality? Why should parenthood be reserved for married couples? Why should any of this be affected by a person's religious beliefs?
The fact that marriage is only being delayed, not denied, doesn't mean that sexuality is being delayed. The sad fact is that this is true even within the church--and everyone knows it. God calls some people to singleness. I'm not arguing against that, and we need to have more respect and honor for those who have been called to that life. But He calls people to celibate singleness, for a purpose; not a prolonged indulgent adolescence in which sexual relationships are repeatedly entered into and ended. We don't recognize what we're doing to ourselves when we live like that: repeatedly creating and ripping apart a one-flesh bond that God intended to last throughout our lives. When couples who have prolonged singleness (but not sexuality) finally do get married, how do they make the shift into a new mode of life, in which this relationship is different, this one will last forever? The sad truth is that often they never do. Statistics show that people who live together before marriage have a 50% or more higher chance of divorce than those who do not; this is true whether it is the cohabitating couple who marry one another or people who have cohabitated with one or more other people before marriage.
The consequences are not merely individual. Married couples and parents have a vested interest in providing for one another and for their children; when these relationships break up, that vested interest breaks down (hence "deadbeat dads") and more children grow up in poverty, more must be provided for by the state or charitable organizations. Parents have a vested interest in caring for their own children and usually do without payment a better job than paid child care. Children who grow up in intact families tend to have a greater sense of security than those who grow up without two parents in the home, and tend to have fewer social adjustment problems; it is likely that the current trend toward deferred marriage is at least in part a result of increasing numbers of children of divorce or single parenthood entering adulthood without having had successful marriages modeled for them, and understandably being anxious about entering into such a significant commitment. Marriage and the nuclear family have been called the building block of civilization; I suspect that's not far off the mark.
Just so this post is not misunderstood, I am not taking a position against birth control, or against sex for purposes other than reproduction, or against divorce in all circumstances, or condemning every instance of single parenthood, or advocating very young marriage. The Bible itself places limits on some of these principles; with regard to some there are other social factors to take into account; and some are issues on which honest and sincere believers can disagree.
My point is simply a lament for the inexorable destruction of something God gave to us as a precious gift. He gave us a fundamental human relationship that provided the context, and much of the transcendent meaning, for sexuality and parenthood. I am blessed with a wonderful marriage and family, and I wish that everyone who doesn't specifically have a gift of celibate singleness could know the joy that marriage and family can be. It saddens me that so many people, even believers, don't have that. It saddens me more that so many have given up on it before ever giving it a chance.
HT: Smart Christian. For much worthwhile information and statistics on the topic of divorce, see the statistics page of the Divorce Reform Page.
1930: 84%The Times article quotes Steve Watters, director of young adults for Focus on the Family, as saying that "the trend of fewer married couples was more a reflection of delaying marriage than rejection of it." Nonetheless, as the article states, "A growing number of adults are spending more of their lives single or living unmarried with partners, and the potential social and economic implications are profound."
1990: 56%
2006: 49.7%
Profound isn't the half of it. This is the iceburg ripping into the hull of the Titanic.
Prichard discusses challenges for the Church to minister to the increasingly diverse groups of non-married people, rather than focusing on married families and having on the side a generic "singles" ministry. These challenges are certainly real and Prichard's suggestions are generally good, but don't address the implications of the social changes reflected by these statistics. Watters appears (in the single quote reported) to be attempting to minimize the issue. Marriage is only being delayed, not rejected. This seems better; in truth, it's almost as bad.
What we're seeing here is something that God designed and intended to function together as an organic whole being dissected into its constituent parts: marriage, parenthood, sexuality, and the image of God. The first social relationship ever entered into was created specifically by God. Here's the narrative:
Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...." So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it...."The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."... So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. The man said, "This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called 'woman,' for she was taken out of man." For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh. The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.... Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.... Adam lay with his wife Eve, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Cain. She said, "With the help of the LORD I have brought forth a man." Later she gave birth to his brother Abel.... When God created man, he made him in the likeness of God. He created them male and female and blessed them. And when they were created, he called them "man." When Adam had lived 130 years, he had a son in his own likeness, in his own image; and he named him Seth. (Genesis 1:26-28; 2:18, 21-25; 3:20; 4:1; 5:1-3 NIV)
The elements of marriage, sexuality, parenthood, and the image of God are all woven together in this fabric. Marriage is quite simply the fundamental social relationship; it is the first one in existence; it is the only one, in this narrative, that is allowed to trump prior family ties. It is the context in which sexuality occurs; it is the context in which parenthood occurs; it reflects the image of God (the relationship among the members of the Trinity) and transmits that image to the children. The metaphor of threads woven together into a fabric doesn't really do it justice: it's more like the separate organs of a living, breathing, multifaceted organism designed by God and given to us.
Our society is taking this living, organic being and inexorably ripping it into its constituent parts, in the naive assumption that the patient will survive the operation. Why should marriage ("a piece of paper") be necessary if two people are truly in love? Why should marriage be permanent? Why should sexuality be reserved only for marriage? Why should pregnancy be a necessary consideration for sexuality? Why should parenthood be reserved for married couples? Why should any of this be affected by a person's religious beliefs?
The fact that marriage is only being delayed, not denied, doesn't mean that sexuality is being delayed. The sad fact is that this is true even within the church--and everyone knows it. God calls some people to singleness. I'm not arguing against that, and we need to have more respect and honor for those who have been called to that life. But He calls people to celibate singleness, for a purpose; not a prolonged indulgent adolescence in which sexual relationships are repeatedly entered into and ended. We don't recognize what we're doing to ourselves when we live like that: repeatedly creating and ripping apart a one-flesh bond that God intended to last throughout our lives. When couples who have prolonged singleness (but not sexuality) finally do get married, how do they make the shift into a new mode of life, in which this relationship is different, this one will last forever? The sad truth is that often they never do. Statistics show that people who live together before marriage have a 50% or more higher chance of divorce than those who do not; this is true whether it is the cohabitating couple who marry one another or people who have cohabitated with one or more other people before marriage.
The consequences are not merely individual. Married couples and parents have a vested interest in providing for one another and for their children; when these relationships break up, that vested interest breaks down (hence "deadbeat dads") and more children grow up in poverty, more must be provided for by the state or charitable organizations. Parents have a vested interest in caring for their own children and usually do without payment a better job than paid child care. Children who grow up in intact families tend to have a greater sense of security than those who grow up without two parents in the home, and tend to have fewer social adjustment problems; it is likely that the current trend toward deferred marriage is at least in part a result of increasing numbers of children of divorce or single parenthood entering adulthood without having had successful marriages modeled for them, and understandably being anxious about entering into such a significant commitment. Marriage and the nuclear family have been called the building block of civilization; I suspect that's not far off the mark.
Just so this post is not misunderstood, I am not taking a position against birth control, or against sex for purposes other than reproduction, or against divorce in all circumstances, or condemning every instance of single parenthood, or advocating very young marriage. The Bible itself places limits on some of these principles; with regard to some there are other social factors to take into account; and some are issues on which honest and sincere believers can disagree.
My point is simply a lament for the inexorable destruction of something God gave to us as a precious gift. He gave us a fundamental human relationship that provided the context, and much of the transcendent meaning, for sexuality and parenthood. I am blessed with a wonderful marriage and family, and I wish that everyone who doesn't specifically have a gift of celibate singleness could know the joy that marriage and family can be. It saddens me that so many people, even believers, don't have that. It saddens me more that so many have given up on it before ever giving it a chance.
HT: Smart Christian. For much worthwhile information and statistics on the topic of divorce, see the statistics page of the Divorce Reform Page.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Becoming Missional
I'd like to welcome Becoming Missional to the blogroll. Jerry's most recent post has a fascinating YouTube link showing Bono at a Washington prayer breakfast. Bono's remarks are extremely challenging, and much more overtly Christian than anything else I've heard (or read) of him.
Jerry also has some interesting stuff on a church transitioning from traditional to missional. I don't yet know if I'm a "friend of missional." I'm probably an acquaintance. I'm really not sure if there's something genuinely new here, or if there is largely idealism here that hasn't yet hit the wall of the sometimes painful realities of life in the church world. Even if it's the latter, there's something to be said for renewing idealism periodically.
Jerry also has some interesting stuff on a church transitioning from traditional to missional. I don't yet know if I'm a "friend of missional." I'm probably an acquaintance. I'm really not sure if there's something genuinely new here, or if there is largely idealism here that hasn't yet hit the wall of the sometimes painful realities of life in the church world. Even if it's the latter, there's something to be said for renewing idealism periodically.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
The Problem of Subculture and Missional Living
Rich Tatum wrote, as a comment to his own piece on the Robert Duvall movie, The Apostle,
Subcultures are merely homogeneous groups that exist within a larger culture and share various cultural norms that can include specialized knowledge, terminology, dress, rituals, customs, and expectations. They exist throughout society, among ethnic groups, professional vocations, aficionados of various sports or types of entertainment, as well as other groupings. Get a group of engineers or doctors or political junkies or comic book fans or football fans together, and the commonalities will come out pretty quickly. Someone may think it ridiculous to go to a convention wearing fake pointy ears, but perfectly normal to go shirtless with a painted chest to a football game. Subcultures are a necessary component of any larger culture that isn't monolithic. It's rather pointless to argue that a Christian subculture shouldn't exist; that would be equivalent to arguing that people with common experiences and interests should pretend as though they didn't have anything in common. It defies human nature.
In some ways, the Christian subculture is a remnant of what the larger American culture used to be. I once read a comparison of Franklin Roosevelt's and Ronald Reagan's first inaugural addresses; it's astonishing how much more biblical quotations and allusions were in the "liberal" Roosevelt's address as compared with Reagan's. Despite the fact that Reagan was the darling of the religious right, American culture had shifted dramatically in forty-eight years, and the shared biblical frame of reference that had existed in the larger culture was virtually gone. I am not here subscribing to the notion of a golden age of "Christian America." When would that have existed--during the days of slavery? I am simply acknowledging that there was once a shared cultural heritage that included a great deal more biblical knowledge than is common today. Whether people believed in them or not, or lived according to biblical tenets or not, Bible stories provided much of the content for an American shared cultural heritage. In large measure, the modern Christian subculture is merely a holdover of that earlier heritage; and so there is truth in the charge that the Christian subculture is merely a response to a larger culture that is by turns indifferent and hostile.
Nonetheless, it's hardly a positive response to huddle together in defensive fashion. Scripture calls us to remain in the world, even as we resist the temptation to become a part of it. Light in the darkness; salt on a tasteless meal: Jesus' metaphors for who we are imply that we are supposed to make a difference in the world around us, which implies both that we are engaged in that world and yet form a perceptible contrast to it. Be involved, but be different. That's our mandate.
Unfortunately, this is part of the problem: even if we have a shared vocabulary, social expectations, and rituals, we are tending not to be very different from the surrounding culture in ways that really matter--the behaviors that are supposed to mark Christian faith. We get divorced at about the same rate as non-Christians; we are influenced to almost the same degree by mass media; and practice of such spiritual disciplines as prayer and Bible study are embarrassingly modest. Often, we've got it exactly backwards. We know how to dress, talk, and behave when we gather together as Christians or happen to meet one another, but our lives too often don't witness to the power of a transforming relationship with the infinite and holy creator of the universe. We're the same as everybody else, except for the secret handshake. That's an overstatement--but by how much?
One of the emphases of the emerging church movement is something called "missional living." I'll be honest: I know about this much more from reading about it than from experiencing it firsthand. But the concept is based on what missionaries have long understood: that to reach a people group different from yourself, you have to adopt as much as possible the customs and behavior of the group you're trying to reach, for the purpose of securing a hearing for the gospel. People who attempt to live missionally specifically try to avoid the look and manner of "church people"--the things that tend to separate us from the world at large--while actively engaging unbelievers and offering a genuine difference.
I don't know how much of this is real, how much is wishful thinking, and how much is simply motivated by a desire to get out from under traditional taboos within evangelicalism. I've known too many people spouting anti-legalistic jargon who, at bottom, simply wanted to live more worldly. And yet something in my soul longs for this. The prophetic voice of the Church has collapsed into the "culture wars," which themselves have largely become little more than a mandate to vote Republican. I can't help but feel that we were supposed to be... something else.
What do you think about missional living? Anyone have personal experience in this area? Is it something only single twentysomethings can glom onto, or can we middle-aged people also do it (in a way that wouldn't be ridiculous)? Any thoughts?
If you like this post, you may be interested in my book, What's Wrong with Outreach?
After watching The Apostle I walked out of the theater amazed that Duvall, an admitted outsider, had worked so hard to get our culture right–and he very nearly succeeded.This comment made me begin thinking about the problem of subculture. Like it or not, American Christians live in a subculture that is getting increasingly marginalized. (I can't speak for believers elsewhere in the world. Sorry, this post is going to be rather USA-centric.) When we address this topic at all, it is either with dismissive contempt--the speaker imagines that he is not a part of this subculture, and is usually referring to a branch of the church that appears to him to be exasperatingly "out of touch" with the surrounding culture--or with a sort of righteous indignation--the speaker views the surrounding culture as increasingly hostile, and retreat into one's own cultural norms is defended as "taking a stand" for moral uprightness. Both views are oversimplifications of a problematic issue.
Subcultures are merely homogeneous groups that exist within a larger culture and share various cultural norms that can include specialized knowledge, terminology, dress, rituals, customs, and expectations. They exist throughout society, among ethnic groups, professional vocations, aficionados of various sports or types of entertainment, as well as other groupings. Get a group of engineers or doctors or political junkies or comic book fans or football fans together, and the commonalities will come out pretty quickly. Someone may think it ridiculous to go to a convention wearing fake pointy ears, but perfectly normal to go shirtless with a painted chest to a football game. Subcultures are a necessary component of any larger culture that isn't monolithic. It's rather pointless to argue that a Christian subculture shouldn't exist; that would be equivalent to arguing that people with common experiences and interests should pretend as though they didn't have anything in common. It defies human nature.
In some ways, the Christian subculture is a remnant of what the larger American culture used to be. I once read a comparison of Franklin Roosevelt's and Ronald Reagan's first inaugural addresses; it's astonishing how much more biblical quotations and allusions were in the "liberal" Roosevelt's address as compared with Reagan's. Despite the fact that Reagan was the darling of the religious right, American culture had shifted dramatically in forty-eight years, and the shared biblical frame of reference that had existed in the larger culture was virtually gone. I am not here subscribing to the notion of a golden age of "Christian America." When would that have existed--during the days of slavery? I am simply acknowledging that there was once a shared cultural heritage that included a great deal more biblical knowledge than is common today. Whether people believed in them or not, or lived according to biblical tenets or not, Bible stories provided much of the content for an American shared cultural heritage. In large measure, the modern Christian subculture is merely a holdover of that earlier heritage; and so there is truth in the charge that the Christian subculture is merely a response to a larger culture that is by turns indifferent and hostile.
Nonetheless, it's hardly a positive response to huddle together in defensive fashion. Scripture calls us to remain in the world, even as we resist the temptation to become a part of it. Light in the darkness; salt on a tasteless meal: Jesus' metaphors for who we are imply that we are supposed to make a difference in the world around us, which implies both that we are engaged in that world and yet form a perceptible contrast to it. Be involved, but be different. That's our mandate.
Unfortunately, this is part of the problem: even if we have a shared vocabulary, social expectations, and rituals, we are tending not to be very different from the surrounding culture in ways that really matter--the behaviors that are supposed to mark Christian faith. We get divorced at about the same rate as non-Christians; we are influenced to almost the same degree by mass media; and practice of such spiritual disciplines as prayer and Bible study are embarrassingly modest. Often, we've got it exactly backwards. We know how to dress, talk, and behave when we gather together as Christians or happen to meet one another, but our lives too often don't witness to the power of a transforming relationship with the infinite and holy creator of the universe. We're the same as everybody else, except for the secret handshake. That's an overstatement--but by how much?
One of the emphases of the emerging church movement is something called "missional living." I'll be honest: I know about this much more from reading about it than from experiencing it firsthand. But the concept is based on what missionaries have long understood: that to reach a people group different from yourself, you have to adopt as much as possible the customs and behavior of the group you're trying to reach, for the purpose of securing a hearing for the gospel. People who attempt to live missionally specifically try to avoid the look and manner of "church people"--the things that tend to separate us from the world at large--while actively engaging unbelievers and offering a genuine difference.
I don't know how much of this is real, how much is wishful thinking, and how much is simply motivated by a desire to get out from under traditional taboos within evangelicalism. I've known too many people spouting anti-legalistic jargon who, at bottom, simply wanted to live more worldly. And yet something in my soul longs for this. The prophetic voice of the Church has collapsed into the "culture wars," which themselves have largely become little more than a mandate to vote Republican. I can't help but feel that we were supposed to be... something else.
What do you think about missional living? Anyone have personal experience in this area? Is it something only single twentysomethings can glom onto, or can we middle-aged people also do it (in a way that wouldn't be ridiculous)? Any thoughts?
If you like this post, you may be interested in my book, What's Wrong with Outreach?
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Have a Cup of Coffee with Christoph Fischer
I'd like to welcome my cup of coffee to the blogroll. Christoph Fischer is a pentecostal pastor and doctoral candidate (yes, I did say that in the same breath) in Germany. Here's a sample of his work, from his post Ramblings on teaching in the Pentecostal church:
Postmodernism despises truth. In fact, postmodernism simply abolishes the notion of truth as we knew it before. “The truth” (which, incidentally, Jesus claimed to be) does not exist any more as such, but, at best we have individual approaches to such a truth, tainted as they are by individual circumstances, presuppositions, characteristics, personality issues, whatever.You'll have to read the rest to see how good this really is. It doesn't appear that Christoph posts all that often, which is a shame, but what he has is great stuff.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It is exactly at this point that the old Pentecostal hermeneutic principle comes in. I might not be able to access an objective truth which is blocked out (at least partially) and therefore tainted by my own subjectivity. But someone else can.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Emotion, Scheliermacher, Edwards, and the JollyBlogger
David Wayne has a curious post up comparing the role of emotion in the respective theologies of Friedrich Schleiermacher and Jonathan Edwards. David probably has as much or more of a grasp on the theologies of both men than I do, so all I can do regarding the specific point at hand is to echo his own sense that while Edwards thought the "affections" were important, for Schleiermacher they were all-encompassing (he wrote that music--by which he meant music itself, not lyrics--was a better expression of spiritual truth than any sort of rational discourse).
The more interesting point, to me, is the fact that David relates this to an ongoing discussion largely among Adrian Warnock, the Pyromaniacs, and David himself regarding the role of emotions and charismatic gifts in Christian experience. It seems to me that perhaps all parties are laboring under the misconception of regarding charismatic experience as inherently emotional (as opposed to other types of Christian experience, which presumably would be more rational, or at least more balanced between emotionalism and rationality). Even though Adrian (the charismatic in this discussion) himself made the appeal for a more "experiential" faith, and Pentecostal/charismatic services tend to be more overtly demonstrative of emotion, this identification of emotion and charismatic gifts lends itself to the idea that there is nothing to the gifts but emotion. It might even be thought that emotion itself is the only goal of charismatic Christian experience. That is emphatically not what Pentecostals and charismatics believe. Most of the churches and worship environments I've been a part of have been quite explicit about the difference between what we believe comes from God and what can come from one's own heightened emotions ("in the flesh" is generally how it's termed). Moreover, it seems to me that charismatics hardly have a corner on religious emotion. It seems to me that fear of too much emotional expression is just as much an emotion as anything else.
It seems to me that this view of charismatic experience is what suggested the Schleiermacher-Edwards comparison to David. To be sure, he didn't oppose them as Schleiermacher = emotion = bad and Edwards = rationality = good. In fact, he said they were actually very similar in their romanticism, and therefore it was something other than stressing emotional experience that made them either good or bad. He's getting away from the whole "emotion is the crux of the matter" mentality, which I view as positive. And yet, when they're compared and related to the charismatic-cessationist debate, it appears that Edwards falls into the camp of the balanced cessationist and therefore charismatics are left with the fount of theological liberalism as their representative of emotional, experiential Christianity. And isn't that actually the concern of many cessationists? that in emphasizing experience and emotion, we will deemphesize scriptural truth?
The comparison could be turned on its head, of course. We could compare, for example, John Wesley as the representative of emotional, vibrant faith (balanced with a firm commitment to scriptural truth), and Rudolph Bultmann as the representative of overrationalized exegesis. It would be just as wrong. The true gulf lies not between charismatics and cessationists, but between all of us who accept the authority of Scripture and all of those who do not. Our quibbles of interpretation are nothing compared to the foundational mistake of leaving behind the inspiration and authority of Scripture.
The more interesting point, to me, is the fact that David relates this to an ongoing discussion largely among Adrian Warnock, the Pyromaniacs, and David himself regarding the role of emotions and charismatic gifts in Christian experience. It seems to me that perhaps all parties are laboring under the misconception of regarding charismatic experience as inherently emotional (as opposed to other types of Christian experience, which presumably would be more rational, or at least more balanced between emotionalism and rationality). Even though Adrian (the charismatic in this discussion) himself made the appeal for a more "experiential" faith, and Pentecostal/charismatic services tend to be more overtly demonstrative of emotion, this identification of emotion and charismatic gifts lends itself to the idea that there is nothing to the gifts but emotion. It might even be thought that emotion itself is the only goal of charismatic Christian experience. That is emphatically not what Pentecostals and charismatics believe. Most of the churches and worship environments I've been a part of have been quite explicit about the difference between what we believe comes from God and what can come from one's own heightened emotions ("in the flesh" is generally how it's termed). Moreover, it seems to me that charismatics hardly have a corner on religious emotion. It seems to me that fear of too much emotional expression is just as much an emotion as anything else.
It seems to me that this view of charismatic experience is what suggested the Schleiermacher-Edwards comparison to David. To be sure, he didn't oppose them as Schleiermacher = emotion = bad and Edwards = rationality = good. In fact, he said they were actually very similar in their romanticism, and therefore it was something other than stressing emotional experience that made them either good or bad. He's getting away from the whole "emotion is the crux of the matter" mentality, which I view as positive. And yet, when they're compared and related to the charismatic-cessationist debate, it appears that Edwards falls into the camp of the balanced cessationist and therefore charismatics are left with the fount of theological liberalism as their representative of emotional, experiential Christianity. And isn't that actually the concern of many cessationists? that in emphasizing experience and emotion, we will deemphesize scriptural truth?
The comparison could be turned on its head, of course. We could compare, for example, John Wesley as the representative of emotional, vibrant faith (balanced with a firm commitment to scriptural truth), and Rudolph Bultmann as the representative of overrationalized exegesis. It would be just as wrong. The true gulf lies not between charismatics and cessationists, but between all of us who accept the authority of Scripture and all of those who do not. Our quibbles of interpretation are nothing compared to the foundational mistake of leaving behind the inspiration and authority of Scripture.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Johnny Lingo and the Ten-Cow Wife
"So tweasuwe youw wife--"I read this story years ago in the Reader's Digest. It made a significant impact on me. One of the main keys of a happy marriage is to treat your spouse like the person you want them to be. I've never understood people who got married and then complained about the "ball and chain" for the rest of their lives. Statistics have shown that evangelical Christians have marriages no better than society as a whole. This is a tragic shame, and a horrible witness. God wants our marriages to represent His love for His people. I hope this little story reminds us of how we should be treating the person who should be the closest one in our lives.
--The Impressive Clergyman
"Get Johnny Lingo to help you find what you want and then let him do the bargaining," advised Shenkin as I sat on the veranda of his guest house and wondered whether to visit Nurabandi. "He'll earn his commission four times over. Johnny knows values and how to make a deal."
"Johnny Lingo." The chubby boy on the veranda steps hooted the name, then hugged his knees and rocked with shrill laughter.
"Be quiet," said his father and the laughter grew silent. "Johnny Lingo's the sharpest trader in this part of the Pacific."
The simple statement made the boy choke and almost roll off the steps. Smiles broadened on the faces of the villagers standing nearby.
"What goes on?" I demanded. "Everybody around here tells me to get in touch with Johnny Lingo and then breaks up. It is some kind of trick, a wild-goose chase, like sending someone for a left-handed wrench? I there no such person or is he the village idiot or what? Let me in on the joke."
"Not idiot," said Shenkin. "Only one thing. Five months ago, at festival time, Johnny came to Kiniwata and found himself a wife. He paid her father ten cows!"
He spoke the last words with great solemnity and I knew enough about island customs to be thorougly impressed. Two or three cows would buy a fair-to-middling wife, four or five a highly satisfactory one.
"Ten cows!" I said. "She must have been a beauty that takes your breath away."
"That's why they laugh," my guest said. "It would be kindness to call her plain. She was little and skinny with no--ah--endowments. She walked with her shoulders hunched and her head ducked, as if she was trying to hide behind herself. Her cheeks had no color, her eyes never opened beyond a slit and her hair was a tangled mop half over her face. She was scared of her own shadow, frightened by her own voice. She was afraid to laugh in public. She never romped with the girls, so how could she attract the boys?"
"But she attracted Johnny?"
This is the story Shenkin told me:
"All the way to the council tent the cousins were urging Sam to try for a good settlement. Ask for three cows, they told him, and hold out for two until you're sure he'll pay one. But Sam was in such a stew and so afraid there'd be some slip in this marriage chance for Sarita that they knew he wouldn't hold out for anything. So while they waited they resigned themselves to accepting one cow, and thought, instead, of their luck in getting such a good husband for Sarita. Then Johnny came into the tent and, without waiting for a word from any of them, went straight up to Sam Karoo, grasped his hand and said, "Father of Sarita, I offer ten cows for your daughter." And he delivered the cows.
"As soon as it was over Johnny took Sarita to the island of Cho for the first week of marriage. Then they went home to Narabundi and we haven't seen them since. Except at festival time, there's not much travel between the islands."
This story interested me so I decided to investigate.
The next day I reached the island where Johnny lived. When I met the slim, serious man, he welcomed me to his home with a grace that made me feel like the owner. I was glad that from his own people he had respect unmingled with mockery.
I told him that his people had told me about him.
"They speak much of me on that island? What do they say?"
"They say you are a sharp trader," I said. "They also say the marriage settlement that you made for your wife was ten cows." I paused, then went on, coming as close to a direct question as I could. "They wonder why."
"They say that?" His eyes lighted with pleasure. He seemed not to have noticed the question. "Everyone in Kiniwata knows about the ten cows?"
I nodded.
"And in Narabundi everyone knows it, too." His chest expanded with satisfaction. "Always and forever, when they speak of marriage settlements, it will be remembered that Johnny Lingo paid ten cows for Sarita."
So that's the anwer, I thought with disappointment. All this mystery and wonder and the explanation's only vanity. It's not enough for his ego to be known as the smartest, the strongest, the quickest. He had to make himself famous for his way of buying a wife. I was tempted to deflate him by reporting that in Kiniwata he was laughed at for a fool.
And then I saw her. Through the glass-beaded portieres that simmered in the archway, I watched her enter the adjoining room to place a bowl of blossoms on the dining table. She stood still a moment to smile with sweet gravity at the young man beside me. Then she went swiftly out again. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Not with the beauty of the girl who carries fruit. That now seemed cheap, common, earthbound. This girl had an ethereal loveliness that was at the same time from the heart of nature. The dew-fresh flowers with which she'd pinned back her lustrous black hair accented the glow of her cheeks. The lift of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin, the sparkle of her eyes all spelled a pride to which no one could deny her the right. And as she turned to leave she moved with the grace that made her look like a queen who might, with enchantment, turn into a kitten.
When she was out of sight I turned back to Jonny Lingo and found him looking at me with eyes that reflected the pride of the girl's.
"You admire her?" he murmured.
"She--she's glorious. Who is she?"
"My wife."
I stared at him blankly. Was this some custom I had not heard about? Do they practice polygamy here? He, for his ten cows, bought both Sarita and this other? Before I could form a question he spoke again.
"This is only one Sarita." His way of saying the words gave them a special significance. "Perhaps you wish to say she does not look the way they say she looked in Kiniwata."
"She doesn't." The impact of the girl's appearance made me forget tact. "I heard she was homely, or at least nondescript. They all make fun of you because you let yourself by cheated by Sam Karoo."
"You think he cheated me? You think ten cows were too many?" A slow smile slid over his lips as I shook my head. "She can see her father and her friends again. And they can see her. Do you think anyone will make fun of us then? Much has happened to change her. Much in particular happened the day she went away."
"You mean she married you?"
"That, yes. But most of all, I mean the arrangements for the marriage."
"Arrangements?"
"Do you ever think," he asked reflectively, "what it does to a woman when she knows that the price her husband has paid is the lowest price for which she can be bought? And then later, when all the women talk, as women do, they boast of what their husbands paid for them. One says four cows, another maybe six. How does she feel--the woman who was sold for one or two? This could not happen to my Sarita."
"Then you paid that unprecendented number of cows just to make your wife happy?"
"Happy?" He seemed to turn the word over on his tongue, as if to test its meaning. "I wanted Sarita to be happy, yes, but I wanted more than that. You say she's different from the way they remember her in Kiniwata. This is true. Many things can change a woman. Things that happen inside, things that happen outside. But the thing that matters most is what she thinks about herself. In Kiniwata, Sarita believed she was worth nothing. Now she knows that she is worth more than any other woman on the islands."
"Then you wanted..."
"I wanted to marry Sarita. I loved her and no other woman."
"But--" I was close to understanding.
"But," he finished softly, "I wanted an ten-cow wife."
For more on marriage, check out my book, Marriage, Family, and the Image of God .
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