Category: random thoughts

Bobbi Keese posted a reply to my previous post on Facebook, and while I started to respond there, it became clear that Facebook’s character limit didn’t allow for a reasonable response. As a result, I thought I would copy her response out and reply to it here.

very good points. what is you [sic] personal plan of action? what can we do to improve? a change of such substantial size is daunting. does it start with us and how we live our christian lives? do we teach by example to others? when asked these questions, what will you say?

I do not believe there is a simple or singular answer to these challenges, but I do think any substantive change begins on an individual level, and then spreads to groups of individuals.

For many of us, this begins as an open and honest evaluation of our own thoughts, feelings and actions:

• I may not be a racist, but am I the inheritor of racist attitudes which surface occasionally, even if only for a moment? Why is it that I feel just a little bit of tension when a large semi-threatening looking minority walks toward me? Rationally I know nothing is going to happen, and I’m able to suppress that thought very quickly, but the reality is that it’s there, at least on some level. How does that affect my reactions to minorities and my views about their place in the community of faith in which I reside?
• How closely do I tie my political agenda to my religious views, and vice versa? Marriage is a good example of where this can become sticky – there are many male/female couples who don’t have any sort of spiritual union at all. Why do we oppose homosexual marriage because marriage is a bond between a man, a woman and God, yet we don’t oppose millions of heterosexual marriages that have nothing to do with God? And after all, if we’re really interested in protecting marriage, shouldn’t we be spending our time, effort and energy outlawing divorce instead? (thought: Is it because divorce, for most Christians, hits a lot closer to home than homosexual marriage?)
• How consistent am I in the ways I apply scripture in forming my theology? Do I find that I have differing standards for passages of scripture depending on whether they confirm or discourage a particular practice which I support or oppose? If I exclude certain practices due to lack of explicit biblical reference, yet allow others because of “necessity” or “expedience”, am I really being honest and fair in my application of criteria to determine what is “necessary” and what isn’t, and is the practice of deeming certain practices (but not others) “necessary” and thus allowing their continued use really fair and consistent at all?
• etc…

This parade of questions is likely to lead us to some very uncomfortable places – often uncomfortable because the questions and answers challenge both the views we have about ourselves and our own “righteousness-of-sorts” and the religious structures in which we’ve heavily invested. Change in either of those areas can be profoundly disconcerting. While I do think there *are* answers for the questions I posed in the previous post, I think one of the largest problems facing Christendom today is the complete ignorance among the “average Christian” that a) such questions exist at all and b) they’re fairly convicting. It often does not help that when people become aware of these and other “non-traditional” questions, our clergy frequently tend to react violently to stamp out any further thought and questioning, and people who continue to ask questions are often shunted sideways, quarantined, and never heard from again.

If our generation demands that theology be lived out in our lives consistently, then it is my sincere opinion that parts of our theology are in dire need of reform. We must take a hard look at what our religious traditions actually say, how we enact and apply what is said in the actual practice of our daily lives, and any disconnects between the two. I think this begins on a personal level in evaluating our own beliefs and ideals, but I also believe our churches will have to wrestle with their own discrepancies in doctrine and praxis and restructure one or the other (or likely both) if they are to survive. As we all collectively wrestle with these ideas, we must keep in mind not only the abstract minutiae, but the practical implementation of our ultimate decisions – can we consistently apply whatever doctrinal and theological standards at which we arrive, and more importantly, what are the broader (and sometimes very messy) implications implied by said application. Only when we have communicated our theology authentically with our behavior will we have a credible voice in secular or spiritual discourse.

Lord, our Father, may Your everlasting strength and resolve help solidify and bring together Your Nation of devoted followers to work towards uplifting the economy. We pray for You to forgive foreclosures, for the Nation’s dollar to be strong in value once again, and for the government to make wise and Godly decisions with the country’s national resources. Let us pray to You, oh Lord, to provide relief to those impoverished and in dire need; and for those of us with wealth and abundance to increase our charity and support as we were taught through Your divine teachings.
Amen

I received an email this evening with this prayer, and couldn’t help but be a bit disturbed regarding the sentiments it expresses.

While we seem to have acquired the view in our country that it’s God’s will for all poor people to become middle class, I think the very first line in this prayer strikes me as a symptom of one of our main problems in America today – the focus on increasing our personal wealth and well being, and promoting said within a Christian framework. The author of the prayer hopes that we will all come together “to work toward the uplifting of the economy…” The working of the Kingdom of God, the deep despair of souls wrecked by greed and pride, and the global mission of the Church seem to take second priority to having a strong, vibrant national economy. Additionally, the author doesn’t *actually* pray for relief to those who are impoverished and in need, or for charity on the part of believers, but asks that God would “let us pray” for such things.

I’m not certain, but I have to think that God’s Kingdom exists on a level that’s a bit different from interest rates and sub-prime mortgages. Somehow we’ve taken the idea that God has always wanted us to have a booming capitalist economy and that if He *really* loves us, he’ll keep the money flowing.

Two things humble me about this assumption.

The first and most scary is that it is often in the times of greatest blessing we find it most difficult to rely on God. When Jesus speaks in the Sermon on the Mount, at least in Luke, he does not say “blessed are the poor in Spirit”, but rather “blessed are the poor.” I think Jesus knew that the poor are desperately aware of their need of a helper, a savior. As one of the richest and most blessed nations on earth, I think we confuse our wealth as a great blessing, when in reality I think it often makes it much harder for us to see God, and to live the lives we’re called to. It’s much more difficult for those of us who have a vested interest in preserving the status quo to be about transforming the structures of this world to allow the lowest and the least among us to be elevated to a position of significance.

Second, do we feel we can honestly ask God to bless us further so we can be charitable when we have been such poor stewards of God’s wealth in the service of other people up to this point? As a nation, we may give more than any other country on earth toward charitable causes, but we still give a tiny fraction of what we have to helping others and solving global problems. How hypocritical can we be to ask God to grant us more money, saying that “then we’ll be able to give more?” Do we not have charity backwards? Can we not let go of what we have first and foremost, allowing God to bless us with more once we have first selflessly given what we have away?

At the end of the day, my hope and prayer is that God is doing a lot more right now than worrying about the valuation of the American Dollar, and that each of us would realize that our 401k’s have very little to do with either our eternal destination, or our present contentment and satisfaction in life.

I don’t usually post a lot of articles, but I found this one fairly compelling as well. It’s written by a doctor and discusses death and dying.

“What I have learned from my patients since that day is that we give death power (as if it needs it) — power not to kill us but to rivet us, to silence us, to drive us from our humanity while we still live. We give death power precisely to the extent that we work to ignore it, to blind ourselves to its closeness, to imagine we have the power to stave it off forever. If we go through life imagining that, then the moment when we are forced to look at death can only rupture everything we know and paralyze us, still alive. That’s not a good way to die.”

Kelly sent me an incredible article this morning in the Washington Post. It’s extremely long, but extremely good.

The Post arranged for a world renowned classical violinist, Joshua Bell, playing on a 3.5 million dollar violin, to give a 40 minute performance at a Metro station in Washington DC during rush hour. Over 1,000 people passed him by, but only a handful noticed the music. It’s interesting the things we pass by and never notice. One of the most interesting quotes to me in the article is from a lady who shines shoes. “Couple of years ago, a homeless guy died right there. He just lay down there and died. The police came, an ambulance came, and no one even stopped to see or slowed down to look.”

The recent discussion of ten “progressive” questions has me finally wanting to write something regarding the ways in which we use the word progressive, especially in our fellowship, and the general confusion it often causes.

Generally, we think of people’s viewpoints in linear terms. We might say someone is a “lefty”, or “right-wing”, implying that they are either “liberal” or “conservative” respectively. This view generally places “conservative” or “traditional” viewpoints on the right side of the line, and “liberal” or “progressive” viewpoints on the left. It also implies that there is some gradient on the scale. A typical understanding of this idea is shown in this picture:

This view leads to certain problems, both politically and religiously, however. Because the recent discussion was religious, I’ll try to stick to those terms. Much as the person who wrote the original ten questions that sparked this discussion, many people tend to see “progressive” as an attitude that centers largely on worship. However many people who have extremely forward views on worship also have extremely traditionalist and even reactionary views on social agendas. How would a person be classified, for instance, who promoted an extremely forward and contemporary worship style, but felt it wrong to read Harry Potter, feeling that it promotes witchcraft? What about a person who feels it is wrong to have a female minister, but who feels equally strongly about actively ministering to homosexuals and inviting them into our churches? Clearly, a single line cannot adequately represent the viewpoints these people have, yet we try to force them onto the line anyway.

One possible way to reform this divide is to add a second dimension. When we start thinking in terms of planes instead of lines, the picture becomes more clear. Consider the following picture:

In this conception, the person who promoted a contemporary worship style (progressive worship) and opposed Harry Potter (socially conservative) would be on the bottom left. We need not stop at two dimensions, however. Consider the following graphic:

Imagining the third axis heading back into the page, we now can place people in three dimensional space, giving us another point of information. Certainly this can be carried on ad nauseam, but as we talk about “progressive” and “traditional”, we need to take care to make sure we’re not discussing different things while using the same word.

I wanted to spend a short amount of time in conclusion discussing some generic thoughts about the ten questions that weren’t presented in my reply to the sender for various reasons.

There are three main points in tone the questions that bother me.

The first assumption I disagree with profoundly is that if certain actions are not present in a person’s worship, they are somehow uncomfortable or oppressed in their worship to God. In many ways, the tone of the questions seems to indicate that if a person doesn’t raise their hands or clap, they aren’t worshiping God with all their heart, soul, mind and strength, and that the reason they hold themselves back is tradition, culture, or fear. I personally don’t believe there is anything wrong with clapping, raising hands, instruments, or incorporating mixed-media presentations into corporate worship times. I don’t personally clap or raise my hands during these times – but not because of tradition, culture, or fear, but rather because it is not the way my soul responds in praise to God. There seems to be an attitude of “Well why wouldn’t you want to do these things?” in the questions, and a slight hint that if you don’t do those things, you’re somehow not as spiritual as those who do. Simply because I’m free in this country to go eat a pint of ice cream doesn’t mean that I have to, or that I should, or even that I should want to. People who are “free in Christ” have the freedom to worship God in the ways they choose, but that does not mean they are forced to worship in those ways, or that they must worship God in a prescribed way. The questions also seem to assume that if there were no external barriers to how we worship God, each of us would worship God in an identical fashion, which seems to me in direct opposition to what I would say is a plain fact that each of us is different, and we all conceive and interact with God in different ways. Furthermore, this viewpoint assumes that the important part of “worship” is the action itself, not the heart behind the action. In truth, there are many places where people raise hands, clap, kneel, and use instruments which are absolutely devoid of God. Our external actions in corporate worship do not necessarily correlate to the internal condition of our hearts.

The second assumption with the questions seems to me to be that what is really important in Christianity is what happens on Sunday morning. I discussed this in the email response, but I think it bears mention again here. The majority of our disagreements in churches often come on issues which are related to corporate assembly times. Of the ten questions, the only ones that can be debated as having no clear tie with “Sunday morning issues” are Questions 7 and 10, one of which I will discuss at length in a moment. I cannot believe 80% of the major issues with Churches today are related to the technicalities of how we praise God on Sunday mornings. I cannot believe there are no bigger problems out there. The original author, I think, is quite right when he asks “Is it worth spending time arguing over something like this when we could be _____”? While I appreciate the burden and sincerity of his heart, I am disturbed by the ease with which he seems to have missed one of his major points, and the ease with which many of miss the same point. Do we really believe that these issues aren’t worth arguing about, or when we say it’s not worth arguing about it, do we simply mean that people who disagree with us should stop arguing and start thinking the way we do?

The final, and I think most disturbing assumption in the email is that each of us should do, and I quote, “whatever it takes to love God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength.” Of all the attitudes expressed in the original questions, this, I believe, is the most dangerous. “Whatever it takes” is the most dangerous religious attitude precisely because it leads people to justify anything in the name of loving God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength. “Whatever it takes” is the attitude that leads people to strap bombs on themselves, walk into buildings, and blow themselves up for the promise of Heaven. It is the attitude that leads people to fly airplanes into buildings, to murder doctors who perform abortions, to scream “God hates Fags!” at a homosexual man’s funeral, to declare holy wars, culture wars, and spiritual wars – all because, according to someone else, that’s “what it takes” to love God. There *must be* limits on “whatever it takes” to love God. In some ways it is a semantic discussion, but it is an essential one. If someone tells us that “in order to really love God, you need to ______”, we are not absolved of our responsibility to ask whether _______ is something consistent with the character of the God we are supposed to love.

At the end of World War II, many men were put on trial for their actions during the war. Many of the men replied that they’d only been “following orders.” The response of the jury was clear – soldiers have an obligation to disobey orders if they violate basic human decency. We can perhaps argue that refusing to murder someone in God’s name does not mean we’re unwilling to do “whatever it takes” to love God, but rather disagreeing about “what it takes” – but I personally reject that distinction. People who blindly and willingly obey any order they are convinced is in the line of “loving God” are a danger to themselves and others. While we cannot use this reasoning to get out of things we selfishly want to do but are prohibited from (e.g. I want to have sex with whoever I want), we must rather evaluate all of our actions and examine them in the light of the character of God.

Even with the extended amount of time that I’ve dedicated to the discussion of this situation on my blog, there is so much more that can be said. As I mentioned on Monday, this discussion is fruitful not necessarily because it reveals dissatisfaction with the particulars of worship styles, but because it exposes deep, fundamental, disturbing problems in how we view Christ, our relationship with Him, and the essence of what it means to please God.

My prayer and hope is that we would somehow be able to address the deeper questions raised by this discussion, moving past externals toward a deep transformation of our hearts, formed and reformed into Christ’s body as we journey together.