Monday, March 28, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
WORLDS COLLIDING
Over the past few years my spiritual formation has taken me to many places, many of which were pretty unpredictable. One of those places that I never thought that I would be again was within a renewed interest in formal ministry. The irony in this is that the very paradigm shift that has brought so much renewal and healing personally has also taken me away from the absolutism of “calling”. While I see a “calling” as a absolutist’s approach to choosing a vocation or set of behaviors, I, rather, have come to value embracing my destiny isntead. I see one’s destiny as the act of living out who that person is fully. While a calling is linked to teleological ethic, it also demands both deontological and virtue ethics to be accepted. This simply means that a calling is linked to our purpose, but also demands that it is absolute. This convoluted approach to dealing with ethical responses is typical in evangelicalism. I, however, am attempting to move toward an ethic that pulls from various ethical theories (rather than trying to adhere to all of them inconsistently) for the purpose of responding to God more naturally. And that is what I mean by destiny. However, even though I am now seeking out what my destiny is, the only way I know how to explore that is through seeking out my calling. This is perhaps the first time my old life and my new life have collided in such a way.
Let me try to explain the difference in a different way. In Notes From the Underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky is addressing the importance of struggling. In the paragraph below he is talking about the existential angst that would come from a humanity that was hyper-rationale. In this paragraph he is contrasting the value of struggling to the rationale of simply being a key on a piano.
For it seems to me that the whole meaning of human life can be summed up in the statement that man only exists for the purpose of proving to himself every minute that he is a man and not an organ- stop! Even if it means physical suffering, even if it means turning his back on civilization, he will prove it. And how is one after that to resist the temptation to rejoice that all this has not happened yet and that so far desire depends on the devil alone knows what…
A little later on he continues to explain the value of the struggle,
And why are we so firmly, so solemnly convinced that only the normal and positive, in short, only prosperity, is of benefit to man? Does not reason make mistakes about benefits? Is it not possible that man loves something besides prosperity? Perhaps he is just as fond of suffering?... All I plead for is that I should be allowed my whims, and that they should be guaranteed to me whenever I want them. In light comedies, for instance, suffering is not permitted, and I accept that. In the Crystal Palace it is unthinkable: suffering is doubt, it is negation, and what sort of Crystal Palace would it be if one were to have any doubts about it? And yet I am convinced that man will never renounce real suffering, that is to say, destruction and chaos. Suffering! Why, it’s the sole cause of consciousness! And though at the beginning I did argue that consciousness was the greatest misfortune to man, yet I know that man loves it and will never exchange it for any satisfaction.
So how does one embrace the negative of struggle, sacrifice of benefits, and ambiguity of doubt for the purpose of being fully alive when our entire paradigm for experiencing that life fully lived is seen through the perspective of certainty, prosperity, and assurance? How does one discover one’s purpose when there is no more purpose than seeking one’s purpose? And how does one work through this struggle in a community that continues to hold to certainty, prosperity, and assurance? Let me be a little pragmatic. There is an incongruence within me. I am pursuing a life fully lived: one that is meaningful, obedient, fruitful, relational, and dynamic. Even though I believe this life is best (not only) discovered through faith, I attempt to find it through certainty. Within this struggle I have to discover who I am, what I aspire to be, how I want to live, who God wants me to be, how God wants me to live, and all of this within the context of a beautiful and broken world. While I don’t criticize those who feel that holding to an absolute calling and see every bad thing that happens as a work of Satan and/or the orchestrating of God to place people within their true calling, I believe that life is simply that- life. It is messy, unpredictable, and often tragic. It is how I and God relate within that reality that will shape meaning.
But my point here is not to negate my previously held evangelicalism for the purpose of elevating existentialism. My purpose is to address the irony of part of that existentialism. Within this new paradigm I value struggle but often feel that that value is battling against my previous evangelicalism. But perhaps that struggle (between existentialism and evangelicalism) is just as much a part of the struggle. I don’t have to work out my evangelicalism before I can embrace existentialism; I simply have to see that as part of the struggle. Call it meta-existentialism. The fact is evangelicalism is a part of me that is real and a part of me that I don’t have to denounce. Perhaps the pursuit of destiny is understanding my desire for a calling.
Let me try to explain the difference in a different way. In Notes From the Underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky is addressing the importance of struggling. In the paragraph below he is talking about the existential angst that would come from a humanity that was hyper-rationale. In this paragraph he is contrasting the value of struggling to the rationale of simply being a key on a piano.
For it seems to me that the whole meaning of human life can be summed up in the statement that man only exists for the purpose of proving to himself every minute that he is a man and not an organ- stop! Even if it means physical suffering, even if it means turning his back on civilization, he will prove it. And how is one after that to resist the temptation to rejoice that all this has not happened yet and that so far desire depends on the devil alone knows what…
A little later on he continues to explain the value of the struggle,
And why are we so firmly, so solemnly convinced that only the normal and positive, in short, only prosperity, is of benefit to man? Does not reason make mistakes about benefits? Is it not possible that man loves something besides prosperity? Perhaps he is just as fond of suffering?... All I plead for is that I should be allowed my whims, and that they should be guaranteed to me whenever I want them. In light comedies, for instance, suffering is not permitted, and I accept that. In the Crystal Palace it is unthinkable: suffering is doubt, it is negation, and what sort of Crystal Palace would it be if one were to have any doubts about it? And yet I am convinced that man will never renounce real suffering, that is to say, destruction and chaos. Suffering! Why, it’s the sole cause of consciousness! And though at the beginning I did argue that consciousness was the greatest misfortune to man, yet I know that man loves it and will never exchange it for any satisfaction.
So how does one embrace the negative of struggle, sacrifice of benefits, and ambiguity of doubt for the purpose of being fully alive when our entire paradigm for experiencing that life fully lived is seen through the perspective of certainty, prosperity, and assurance? How does one discover one’s purpose when there is no more purpose than seeking one’s purpose? And how does one work through this struggle in a community that continues to hold to certainty, prosperity, and assurance? Let me be a little pragmatic. There is an incongruence within me. I am pursuing a life fully lived: one that is meaningful, obedient, fruitful, relational, and dynamic. Even though I believe this life is best (not only) discovered through faith, I attempt to find it through certainty. Within this struggle I have to discover who I am, what I aspire to be, how I want to live, who God wants me to be, how God wants me to live, and all of this within the context of a beautiful and broken world. While I don’t criticize those who feel that holding to an absolute calling and see every bad thing that happens as a work of Satan and/or the orchestrating of God to place people within their true calling, I believe that life is simply that- life. It is messy, unpredictable, and often tragic. It is how I and God relate within that reality that will shape meaning.
But my point here is not to negate my previously held evangelicalism for the purpose of elevating existentialism. My purpose is to address the irony of part of that existentialism. Within this new paradigm I value struggle but often feel that that value is battling against my previous evangelicalism. But perhaps that struggle (between existentialism and evangelicalism) is just as much a part of the struggle. I don’t have to work out my evangelicalism before I can embrace existentialism; I simply have to see that as part of the struggle. Call it meta-existentialism. The fact is evangelicalism is a part of me that is real and a part of me that I don’t have to denounce. Perhaps the pursuit of destiny is understanding my desire for a calling.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
MATTHEW 25: WHAT THE HELL? Part 2
Then in Matthew 25 Jesus brings in two parables to illustrate this message. The first is of the Ten Virgins and the second is of the Master and the Talents. Regardless if you see Matthew 24 and 25 as end-times literature or (as I do) a call to participate in the incarnation of Christ, we have a difficult situation in Matthew 25 to deal with. For the most part, this chapter fits fairly easily into either interpretation of scripture. But in the first parable something really frustrating appears. In the parable of the Ten Virgins we read the following,
1 “At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. 2 Five of them were foolish and five were wise. 3 The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. 4 The wise ones, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. 5 The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep. 6 “At midnight the cry rang out: ‘Here’s the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ 7 “Then all the virgins woke up and trimmed their lamps. 8 The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.’ 9 “‘No,’ they replied, ‘there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.’ 10 “But while they were on their way to buy the oil, the bridegroom arrived. The virgins who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut. 11 “Later the others also came. ‘Lord, Lord,’ they said, ‘open the door for us!’ 12 “But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I don’t know you.’ 13 “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.
Coffman Commentary gives a fairly fundamental yet broadly accepted interpretation of the passage:
The parable is practical, the tragic story of the ready and the unready. It applies to all present-day Christians. The kingdom of heaven is the church, aptly set forth in the analogy as a company of precious bridesmaids. The great shock, therefore, is to realize that some, even of these, shall be summarily excluded from association with the bridegroom. The parable is designed to shock men into realization that a host of good, clean, moral, respectable members of the church will be lost. Through sheer negligence, many of the redeemed shall fail to enter in. The foolish virgins are the Lord's own example of saved persons who at last failed to make the port of everlasting life. This warns against idleness and neglect, but it should not discourage. Those foolish virgins did not provide oil, but they could have done so. What was required of them was nothing extraordinary or especially difficult, but it did require concern and attention which they failed to give.
I believe that many commentaries, like this one, neglect the details of the story which would suggest that even the foolish went with oil, just not enough. Meaning that they were not prepared for what could be a long wait. Since we don’t know when Christ will return we need to be prepared for the long haul. But in verses 8 and 9 something very interesting happens, “8 The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.’ 9 “‘No,’ they replied, ‘there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.’” The only translations I have seen of these two short verses are very similar: we are judged by our own works and can’t live off the faithfulness of others. I can agree to an extent with this interpretation, but I do have a few problems with this blanket interpretation such as the fact that we aren’t judged by our works, that this parable suggests that all ten were “virgins”, and that I don’t believe this is end-times teachings. So maybe I disagree with this interpretation quite a bit. But my real frustration here is why the five wise virgins who took oil won’t share. From here we move to the parable of the talents where the message is more understandable about the importance of investing what we have been “blessed” with rather than protecting it hoping that the original blessing will be enough. The best that I can come up with here is that 25: 1-13 are part of a larger narrative that is far too often broken down into pieces that can preach more succinctly. Chapter 25, a parable shared with disciples, not the broader Christian community, is a teaching of responsibility that disciples have and to identify the ignorance that we disciples often have for the lack of intimacy that exists around us.
Far too often we live in a world of false intimacy. We believe that since Christians worship together, “waiting for the bridegroom” together that we have formed community. But what is often happening is that we exist in a world of false community. In an industrialized society this message is even greater as we value security above almost everything else. We enter into community sharing what is acceptable and palatable, but rarely engaging in relationships that usher in the turmoil of intimacy. We share in a community of shared “virginness”, but not in one of preparedness. When the incarnation presents itself, many faithful followers will miss out because of the unwillingness of “mature” followers to take the risk of developing true relationships. While we are fairly comfortable considering the role of mature Christians as bringing in new converts, discipling other Christians, encouraging and participating in missional work, and forming social support systems, the burden of shared pilgrimage is often far too great of a call. Acknowledging our own struggles and allowing others to share in our blessings is simply too much to ask. That often requires that we are no longer the expert, the blessed, or the mature, but a fellow seeker. In Matthew 25 we are guided to a second parable of investing our blessings. While the first parable warned the disciples of the need to move beyond their reluctance, the second parable warns us of what we can miss out of by not participating in the greater narrative. So while the “wise” virgins may get to experience the incarnation, they may very well miss out on the future incarnation of true community.
This has been a long post and I assume if you are anything like me that if you even got this far that you have scanned most of it, but I want to know your thoughts. What do you think verse 8 and 9 mean? On one additional note, of the small number of people who read my blog, a few of them are from Japan. Know that the prayers and thoughts of the entire world are with you.
1 “At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. 2 Five of them were foolish and five were wise. 3 The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. 4 The wise ones, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. 5 The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep. 6 “At midnight the cry rang out: ‘Here’s the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ 7 “Then all the virgins woke up and trimmed their lamps. 8 The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.’ 9 “‘No,’ they replied, ‘there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.’ 10 “But while they were on their way to buy the oil, the bridegroom arrived. The virgins who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut. 11 “Later the others also came. ‘Lord, Lord,’ they said, ‘open the door for us!’ 12 “But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I don’t know you.’ 13 “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.
Coffman Commentary gives a fairly fundamental yet broadly accepted interpretation of the passage:
The parable is practical, the tragic story of the ready and the unready. It applies to all present-day Christians. The kingdom of heaven is the church, aptly set forth in the analogy as a company of precious bridesmaids. The great shock, therefore, is to realize that some, even of these, shall be summarily excluded from association with the bridegroom. The parable is designed to shock men into realization that a host of good, clean, moral, respectable members of the church will be lost. Through sheer negligence, many of the redeemed shall fail to enter in. The foolish virgins are the Lord's own example of saved persons who at last failed to make the port of everlasting life. This warns against idleness and neglect, but it should not discourage. Those foolish virgins did not provide oil, but they could have done so. What was required of them was nothing extraordinary or especially difficult, but it did require concern and attention which they failed to give.
I believe that many commentaries, like this one, neglect the details of the story which would suggest that even the foolish went with oil, just not enough. Meaning that they were not prepared for what could be a long wait. Since we don’t know when Christ will return we need to be prepared for the long haul. But in verses 8 and 9 something very interesting happens, “8 The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.’ 9 “‘No,’ they replied, ‘there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.’” The only translations I have seen of these two short verses are very similar: we are judged by our own works and can’t live off the faithfulness of others. I can agree to an extent with this interpretation, but I do have a few problems with this blanket interpretation such as the fact that we aren’t judged by our works, that this parable suggests that all ten were “virgins”, and that I don’t believe this is end-times teachings. So maybe I disagree with this interpretation quite a bit. But my real frustration here is why the five wise virgins who took oil won’t share. From here we move to the parable of the talents where the message is more understandable about the importance of investing what we have been “blessed” with rather than protecting it hoping that the original blessing will be enough. The best that I can come up with here is that 25: 1-13 are part of a larger narrative that is far too often broken down into pieces that can preach more succinctly. Chapter 25, a parable shared with disciples, not the broader Christian community, is a teaching of responsibility that disciples have and to identify the ignorance that we disciples often have for the lack of intimacy that exists around us.
Far too often we live in a world of false intimacy. We believe that since Christians worship together, “waiting for the bridegroom” together that we have formed community. But what is often happening is that we exist in a world of false community. In an industrialized society this message is even greater as we value security above almost everything else. We enter into community sharing what is acceptable and palatable, but rarely engaging in relationships that usher in the turmoil of intimacy. We share in a community of shared “virginness”, but not in one of preparedness. When the incarnation presents itself, many faithful followers will miss out because of the unwillingness of “mature” followers to take the risk of developing true relationships. While we are fairly comfortable considering the role of mature Christians as bringing in new converts, discipling other Christians, encouraging and participating in missional work, and forming social support systems, the burden of shared pilgrimage is often far too great of a call. Acknowledging our own struggles and allowing others to share in our blessings is simply too much to ask. That often requires that we are no longer the expert, the blessed, or the mature, but a fellow seeker. In Matthew 25 we are guided to a second parable of investing our blessings. While the first parable warned the disciples of the need to move beyond their reluctance, the second parable warns us of what we can miss out of by not participating in the greater narrative. So while the “wise” virgins may get to experience the incarnation, they may very well miss out on the future incarnation of true community.
This has been a long post and I assume if you are anything like me that if you even got this far that you have scanned most of it, but I want to know your thoughts. What do you think verse 8 and 9 mean? On one additional note, of the small number of people who read my blog, a few of them are from Japan. Know that the prayers and thoughts of the entire world are with you.
Friday, March 11, 2011
MATTHEW 25: WHAT THE HELL? Part 1
There is a lot of talk about hell in pop-Christianity right now thanks to Rob Bell’s new book. I think that it is great that this topic is coming to the front of conversations. Hell has been a difficult topic for the past few decades within Christianity. For a few sects, hell has found renewed focus and is used to further advance personalities. Even within politics it has found renewed interest as we address terrorism and the advocates of violence. Hell has never been out of fashion within the church though. But as the impact of postmodernism and multiculturalism find its way into Christian thought, the certainty of what hell means is up for discussion. Hell, though, is an important topic to discuss for those working through their own journey. There is little doubt that hell has been used to manipulate and control people for years and is broadly accepted as a good strategy for evangelism within fundamental factions, but many mainstream and progressive Christians differ greatly even within their own localized communities regarding their beliefs about hell. This new conversation about hell in the broader Christian culture as well as within my own faith development intersects with my renewed passion for scripture. I have recently begun reading the New Testament and I am shocked at how differently I read it now than just a few years ago. The Gospel of Matthew, for example, has led me to journal about struggles and gain new insight that I had never seen before in scripture. A recurring topic within the New Testament, as you know, is the Kingdom of God. Last week I read Matthew 25, which addresses the Return of Christ, and I haven’t been able to shake my frustrations with the chapter. My frustration with this chapter, specifically the first thirteen verses, has been back dropped against the pop Christian discussion of hell.
As you might guess if you have read my blog before, I am not quite on board with the whole hell thing. That doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in hell; simply that I see it as irrelevant to my own spiritual development or how I interact with others (even “pagans”). As I am reading the Gospel of Matthew I notice something about the way that Jesus discusses hell, and he discusses it a lot. Matthew is obviously written as a chronology of the life of Christ, but the structure suggests that it is more than a simple biography and takes a few privileges to make an otherwise chronological detailing of Jesus’ life into a narrative of the story of Jesus. This can be seen throughout the Book Matthew. For example, early in the ministry of Jesus, he is very clear about righteousness and the standards that we all live by. Hell is seen as a consequence in the early part of Matthew. But then the conversation moves toward one of grace and mercy. Throughout the middle of the book we see that righteousness only comes through knowing Christ and that the law is incomplete. Then at the end of Matthew we are reintroduced to hell, but it is contextualized much within the language of the Kingdom of God. I think that the point here is that we are being walked through the stages of spiritual maturity. But what is interesting is that judgment (as a topic) is important in early development, but that we should move beyond that. We will, however, have to come back to reflecting on judgment, but that we had to go through a process of deconstruction before we can see that judgment is really about the Kingdom of God. So when Jesus is referencing hell I think what he is saying is, “I get it. Not only are you largely motivated by reward and punishment, but knowing God in any way other than earning that intimacy is far too difficult to comprehend. But we have to realize who God and what he wants for us. His desire is to know us and for us to know each other. Once you get that then you can experience the Kingdom of God.” So instead of judgment being seen as being left behind (as in not getting to go to heaven) it is about being left behind (as in missing the incarnation of Christ).
So that is my basic take on the whole hell thing. That leads me to Matthew 25. In chapter 24 we see Jesus use some pretty apocalyptic language. It is broadly accepted that this is an end-times reference. What that means is up for discussion though. Although this may be a reference to actual end –times, I can’t help but feel that such a fundamental paradigm to this is inconsistent with the context of the rest of the book and the ministry of Christ. I continue to feel that the language in this chapter refers more to experiencing the incarnation of Christ than the impeding scenario of tribulation. The context of this chapter revolving around the “fall of the temple” further solidifies this perspective for me. The idea that we need to be on alert because we don’t know when Jesus will return or else we may end up in hell is completely contrary to his entire previous ministry focused on the transformational power of intimacy with God. The end of the chapter beginning in verse 36 reads,
36 “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 37 As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; 39 and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. 41 Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left.
42 “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. 43 But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.
As you might guess if you have read my blog before, I am not quite on board with the whole hell thing. That doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in hell; simply that I see it as irrelevant to my own spiritual development or how I interact with others (even “pagans”). As I am reading the Gospel of Matthew I notice something about the way that Jesus discusses hell, and he discusses it a lot. Matthew is obviously written as a chronology of the life of Christ, but the structure suggests that it is more than a simple biography and takes a few privileges to make an otherwise chronological detailing of Jesus’ life into a narrative of the story of Jesus. This can be seen throughout the Book Matthew. For example, early in the ministry of Jesus, he is very clear about righteousness and the standards that we all live by. Hell is seen as a consequence in the early part of Matthew. But then the conversation moves toward one of grace and mercy. Throughout the middle of the book we see that righteousness only comes through knowing Christ and that the law is incomplete. Then at the end of Matthew we are reintroduced to hell, but it is contextualized much within the language of the Kingdom of God. I think that the point here is that we are being walked through the stages of spiritual maturity. But what is interesting is that judgment (as a topic) is important in early development, but that we should move beyond that. We will, however, have to come back to reflecting on judgment, but that we had to go through a process of deconstruction before we can see that judgment is really about the Kingdom of God. So when Jesus is referencing hell I think what he is saying is, “I get it. Not only are you largely motivated by reward and punishment, but knowing God in any way other than earning that intimacy is far too difficult to comprehend. But we have to realize who God and what he wants for us. His desire is to know us and for us to know each other. Once you get that then you can experience the Kingdom of God.” So instead of judgment being seen as being left behind (as in not getting to go to heaven) it is about being left behind (as in missing the incarnation of Christ).
So that is my basic take on the whole hell thing. That leads me to Matthew 25. In chapter 24 we see Jesus use some pretty apocalyptic language. It is broadly accepted that this is an end-times reference. What that means is up for discussion though. Although this may be a reference to actual end –times, I can’t help but feel that such a fundamental paradigm to this is inconsistent with the context of the rest of the book and the ministry of Christ. I continue to feel that the language in this chapter refers more to experiencing the incarnation of Christ than the impeding scenario of tribulation. The context of this chapter revolving around the “fall of the temple” further solidifies this perspective for me. The idea that we need to be on alert because we don’t know when Jesus will return or else we may end up in hell is completely contrary to his entire previous ministry focused on the transformational power of intimacy with God. The end of the chapter beginning in verse 36 reads,
36 “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 37 As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; 39 and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. 41 Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left.
42 “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. 43 But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.
Monday, March 7, 2011
WHAT I BELIEVE AT 37
When I first began to consider what I wanted to blog about regarding my birthday I thought that clarifying what I do believe would be great. I assumed that it would come really easily to me as well. I have spent the past five years actively engaged in that process and the past two years actively blogging about what I believe. However, when it came time to sit down and actually put it on paper I drew a blank. In fact, for the first couple of hours all I did was go back and forth to Facebook. I believed that this activity would be rather simple because I have identified two clear precepts of what I know hold to be the only real beliefs that I have philosophically or theologically: (1) I simply don’t put much value in belief and (2) what I do value is the relational tension that exists in the existential understanding of identity.
(1) I don’t value belief as much as I used to. The industrialized, modern theology of evangelicalism, while being something that I have regained a great appreciation for, is simply far too problematic for me to continue to hold to. There are three primary flaws with holding to absolutism. The first is that it is just wrong. It defies all logic and appreciation for the intentions of culture of ancient times. Second, it contradicts the overall message of scripture and value of spirituality. Far too often the absolutism of modern Christianity is significantly more exclusive than inclusive. Finally, despite the mercy of God and the transformed hearts of so many, it is only becoming more clear how damaging absolutism can be. In other words, while the grace of God continues to work, Christianity (as a belief-centered religion) is only becoming less valid.
(2) My faith is continually moving toward a tension centered paradigm. I likely have always been an existentialist and I have come to really value the philosophical contribution of postmodernism, but the core of what I hold to be truth is that truth can only be discovered within the tension that exists between ideas and people. This tension is not always one of contention, but one marked by struggle. Perhaps this is where one of my beliefs can be identified.
I believe that humanity is a story of people on the journey of having deep intimacy with God and others while discovering their true identity and purpose within those relationships. Because this is a journey of discovery and the Jewish people had a natural appreciation of this struggle, God was able to be most easily discovered there. Because Judaism was rooted on such solid existential realities and because God was most easily discovered within Judaism, Judaism was the most natural fit for greater revelation. Judaism was flawed and only became more so over time meaning that the message of God through Jesus was going to be a reclaiming as well as an expansion of the original story of the “people of God.” That stated, the identity of Jesus is as much of a mystery to me as the identity of God. While some will read that as a proclamation that Jesus wasn’t God or that there is no person of God, that is not so. It does mean that I am not completely sure what it means that God is a person and that Jesus is part of that relationship of the Trinity.
I believe that scripture is both the absolute word of God as well as the desperate collective attempts of people trying to understand the world around them. I believe that there is a need for the highest standards of moral perfection, but that we have absolutely no idea what that standard should be. For example, I believe that scripture is clear about homosexuality, but that no one has quite figured out what that clear message is. I believe that salvation comes solely through a personal relationship with Christ, but that I don’t know what salvation means. I believe in the deontology of religion, radical hermeneutics, and the beautiful weakness of God. I don't believe, by necessity, in hell or that we should think so much about heaven. I believe that faith and politics should never be mistaken for each other, but I also believe in social justice and reform. I believe that violence of any kind is always wrong. That includes war and abortion, but I also know that when we are faced with evil and injustice we must act. I don’t believe in such a thing as being called into the ministry, but I do believe that my destiny lies in ministry.
Additionally, I believe that the greatest things are:
• Spending the day with Shannon at Target
• Making love
• Wrestling with my kids and the sound of them belly laughing
• Coffee shops with a good book on a rainy day
• A harder than hell workout followed by a message that actually hurts
• Hiking in the mountains
• The Patty Griffin station on Pandora
• A decent chicken fried steak
• Sitting on the porch with a good friend solving the problems of the world with a good cigar and Crown and Coke
• New socks
And that is what I believe at 37.
(1) I don’t value belief as much as I used to. The industrialized, modern theology of evangelicalism, while being something that I have regained a great appreciation for, is simply far too problematic for me to continue to hold to. There are three primary flaws with holding to absolutism. The first is that it is just wrong. It defies all logic and appreciation for the intentions of culture of ancient times. Second, it contradicts the overall message of scripture and value of spirituality. Far too often the absolutism of modern Christianity is significantly more exclusive than inclusive. Finally, despite the mercy of God and the transformed hearts of so many, it is only becoming more clear how damaging absolutism can be. In other words, while the grace of God continues to work, Christianity (as a belief-centered religion) is only becoming less valid.
(2) My faith is continually moving toward a tension centered paradigm. I likely have always been an existentialist and I have come to really value the philosophical contribution of postmodernism, but the core of what I hold to be truth is that truth can only be discovered within the tension that exists between ideas and people. This tension is not always one of contention, but one marked by struggle. Perhaps this is where one of my beliefs can be identified.
I believe that humanity is a story of people on the journey of having deep intimacy with God and others while discovering their true identity and purpose within those relationships. Because this is a journey of discovery and the Jewish people had a natural appreciation of this struggle, God was able to be most easily discovered there. Because Judaism was rooted on such solid existential realities and because God was most easily discovered within Judaism, Judaism was the most natural fit for greater revelation. Judaism was flawed and only became more so over time meaning that the message of God through Jesus was going to be a reclaiming as well as an expansion of the original story of the “people of God.” That stated, the identity of Jesus is as much of a mystery to me as the identity of God. While some will read that as a proclamation that Jesus wasn’t God or that there is no person of God, that is not so. It does mean that I am not completely sure what it means that God is a person and that Jesus is part of that relationship of the Trinity.
I believe that scripture is both the absolute word of God as well as the desperate collective attempts of people trying to understand the world around them. I believe that there is a need for the highest standards of moral perfection, but that we have absolutely no idea what that standard should be. For example, I believe that scripture is clear about homosexuality, but that no one has quite figured out what that clear message is. I believe that salvation comes solely through a personal relationship with Christ, but that I don’t know what salvation means. I believe in the deontology of religion, radical hermeneutics, and the beautiful weakness of God. I don't believe, by necessity, in hell or that we should think so much about heaven. I believe that faith and politics should never be mistaken for each other, but I also believe in social justice and reform. I believe that violence of any kind is always wrong. That includes war and abortion, but I also know that when we are faced with evil and injustice we must act. I don’t believe in such a thing as being called into the ministry, but I do believe that my destiny lies in ministry.
Additionally, I believe that the greatest things are:
• Spending the day with Shannon at Target
• Making love
• Wrestling with my kids and the sound of them belly laughing
• Coffee shops with a good book on a rainy day
• A harder than hell workout followed by a message that actually hurts
• Hiking in the mountains
• The Patty Griffin station on Pandora
• A decent chicken fried steak
• Sitting on the porch with a good friend solving the problems of the world with a good cigar and Crown and Coke
• New socks
And that is what I believe at 37.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)