The Rallies To Restore Sanity (and/or) Fear

Perhaps the best sign, theologically, that I've seen come out of that rally.  Bumper sticker theology is lazy.  The same goes for "sign" theology that is present at some rallies.

(H/T to Matt Kelley over at The Truth As Best I Know It)

Happy Reformation Day

I'm sure you have your "Reformation Cards" and will open up all of your "Reformation Presents" today.  But, if not, here's a little Reformation Present for you.

"Amazing Grace" -- A Calvinist vs. Arminian Smackdown

Image via WikipediaRichard Hall, over at Connexions, in Britain, recalls a version of "Amazing Grace" if it were composed by Arminians and finds one as if it were composed by Calvinists -- in a satirical way.  He remembered part of it and then found the whole thing over at Challies. 

Arminianism, for those a little rusty, really stood apart from the Calvinists in believing that grace was resistible and that persons are not predestined to believe but believers are predestined to be with God.  (It's amazing what a little refresher in Wikipedia will bring).  People fought long and hard about this, with the Calvinists saying Arminians (including John Wesley) bordered on "works righteousness."  I recall a story of someone pointing out to Wesley the words of "Rock of Ages" saying, "NOTHING in my hand I bring, only to the cross I cling."  And I recall Wesley's critique of a traditional understanding of predestination, saying, "If predestination is really true, then why do I stand here preaching if it doesn't matter and it's all predetermined who will believe.  It was really Wesley's understanding of prevenient grace that stood at the border of these two theological perspectives.

As said above, there were a lot of heated arguments about these differences and you can still find them today.  So, it was with great interest and much giggling that I read Richard Hall's post at Connexions today which includes a theological smackdown between Arminiansm and Calvinism through parodies of "Amazing Grace."  These are funny.  But more, they get at theological critiques each side had/has of the others.

So, the (satirical) Amazing Grace for Arminians (found at Challies.com) is:

Arminian “grace!” How strange the sound,
Salvation hinged on me.
I once was lost then turned around,
Was blind then chose to see.

What “grace” is it that calls for choice,
Made from some good within?
That part that wills to heed God’s voice,
Proved stronger than my sin.

Thru many ardent gospel pleas,
I sat with heart of stone.
But then some hidden good in me,
Propelled me toward my home.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Because of what we’ve done,
We’ve no less days to sing our praise,
Than when we first begun.

Nice, huh.  And while us good Arminian Methodist may say that this "works righteousness" version of "Amazing Grace" is a long way from how we really understand grace, I think it's imperative on us to hear the critiques and reaffirm that it is God who saves us and not something we do ourselves...and how it happens.

Richard Hall,  comes up with his own parody, poking fun at extreme Calvinism which often appears to make grace anything but "amazing" or "graceful."  In an extreme form, Calvinism can appear to put forth a distant and cantankerous God who randomly assign persons to heaven or hell on a whim.  There's no room for works, clearly, with this perspective, but it seems to remove all of life and faith from the equation as well. 

Here's Richard Hall's Calvinist rendition, with tongue firmly planted in cheek:

Amazing thought! You call it “grace”
That saves and damns at whim?
That blinds the lost, condemns a host
And turns them into toast?

Tis “grace” like this that makes me fear
This “grace” my fear inspires:
Whatever I may think or do
I’m fuel for his fires.

The dangers, trials and snares I see
Are all illusory:
I’m either picked before I’m born
Or else, I’m history!

The Lord has promised naught to me
If I’m not on his list
If this is grace, how bad’s the curse?
I’m going to get drunk. 

Richard Hall makes me think and has one of the more accessible and theological Wesleyan blogs out there.  He's a Methodist minister in Wales.  Well worth your time.

A Problem With How We Address the Problem of Evil

Image by Travis S. via Flickr

Theodicy is the theological study/discussion about why, if we have a good and gracious God, do we have evil.  If God wants nothing but good for us, we need to have some way of explaining where there are bad things in this life.  Harold Kushner famously addressed this in his bestselling book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People.  Of course Job was dealing with this long before as he struggled with all that God did to him in the Bible.

I have a problem with how many persons, even pastors, even good pastors, deal with the problems that come up in persons lives.  Too often we say too much.  Too often, as we try to help parishioners come to grips with tragedy or pain, we'll assume things from God's perspective that I'm just not comfortable with.

"I'm sorry your little child died, Mrs. Smith.  I guess God just wanted to call him home."

"I'm sorry you lost your job again, Mr. Smith.  I guess God has something to teach you from this and this was how he needed to get your attention."



The underlying assumption from these comments seem to be that whatever happens in the world is just how God intended it to be...a theodicy based in predestination.  It leaves no room for "accidents" and no room for that bad stuff that happens in peoples lives to be contrary to what God wants.  I know we have an omnipotent, omniscient God.  But, I want to hold out out that God, for the sake of free will and the order of creation, allows persons to sin (free will) and allows disasters to strike (creation).

I remember a professor at Duke Divinity School who had been raised by a VERY Presbyterian family and had a VERY conservative Presbyterian grandfather.  He said that his grandfather was at his house as he was learning how to ride a bike.  And, he said, every time he fell off his bike, his grandfather made it out to be exactly how God had predetermined it should be.  God was always telling him something with each fall.  Perhaps it was because of some sin in in his life or to teach him a lesson.  I remember that professor lamenting that he was never allowed to just "fall off his bike." Why did every fall have to be part of God's grand plan for him?

This is not to say that we can't learn from situations and problems that arise.  Suffering, anywhere in the world, is a chance for us to respond with love and grace and service.  But, to make an assumption that this is what God intends...well I think that's putting something into the mind of God that we're just not in a position to put there. Moreover, I think intentionality is itself a loaded term and I want to say that God grieves that bad things happen to persons...whether they be good or bad.

All of this comes to mind because of the words of a pastor in Sutton, Alaska as he helps a neighbor deal with the loss of his home to the Matanuska River.  Rain has swollen the banks of the river and some persons report as much  as three feet a day being carved out of the riverbank.  The article appears in today's Anchorage Daily News.  The following is section that talks about what the good pastor says:

"I have pneumonia and shouldn't even be out here," said [the] Grace Bible Church pastor, as he and another neighbor salvaged what they could for Blubaugh. "Forrest asked me 'Why is God doing this to me?' and I just told him that God has his reasons for allowing these things to happen. God can either speak to you like a butterfly landing on a petal or he can hit you with a two-by-four if you're not paying attention. This is the two-by-four for Forrest."

I don't have much trouble with "God has his reasons for allowing these things to happen."  I think that's vague enough that it doesn't get into theological trouble.  However, to say that this is God's way to get Forrest's attention "with a two-by-four" seems to make God into more of a brute than I want my God to be.  Also it's something that just can't be known on this side of the resurrection. 

As we address the problem of theodicy, we need to do so with a good dose of "I don't know."  We really don't know why bad things happen.  It is however entirely appropriate to ask how it is that we should respond most faithfully to the bad things that have happened.  And, from the article, it appears the pastor and his congregation are acting in very loving, and life-giving ways.  They are providing a great service and a great witness.  I just wish he had left it at that.

So, What Does This Say About God?

This is a pillow apparently brought home by a 7 year-old from Bible camp.  Note how God's "comforting" word also brings doom.

Interesting what this says about God and the theology that must have hit home at that Bible Camp.

The picture is from over at Passive Aggressive Notes (dot) com.  And I got it by way of Jesus Needs New PR.

So, What Does This Say About God?

The story is that this is a note in a store, perhaps to dissuade shoplifting. 

I have to admit I've used a similar argument with our kids, basically asking them "Is Jesus happy with what you've done?"  But, as I look at the note I ask what does this say about God and our theology?

I got the picture over at Passive Aggressive Notes (dot) com by way of Jesus Needs New PR.

"Jesus and the Kingdom of God" -- Brian McClaren

Stats and Guardian Angels

I'm a sucker for religious statistics. Ever since I read and did a sermon series on UnChristian, by David Kinnaman, I've been fascinated by the things Christians and non-Christians believe and what they believe about each other. That's why I found the following over at Jason Boyett's blog, "O Me Of Little Faith," right up my alley.

"Have you had the following religious experience?" That's the question asked by the 2008 Baylor Religion Survey, authored by Dr. Rodney Stark and others, in an extensive look at the "depth and complexity" of America's religious landscape. The survey's findings are revealed in the book What Americans Really Believe, by Rodney Stark.

The surveyors spoke to 1,648 adults chosen randomly from across the country. When asked the question about having certain religious experiences, this is how many Americans answered YES:

• I heard the voice of God speaking to me: 20%
• I felt called by God to do something: 44%
• I was protected from harm by a guardian angel: 55%
• I witnessed a miraculous, physical healing: 23%
• I received a miraculous, physical healing: 16%
• I spoke or prayed in tongues: 8%

To be fair, it's not like any of these numbers are in the 90% range. While it may be a good 1 in 5 Americans who believe that they've heard the voice of God speaking to them, it's only 20% no matter how we slice it. And less than half of that figure have gotten into the gift of tongues as far as they know.

The thing I find particularly interesting is that a full 55% of the folks believed they have been protected by a guardian angel. Really? A full 55%. See, out of all of these, this particular point seems to be the weakest, Biblically. I think it plays into a particular pop-culture understanding of angels that we just don't seem to get from the Bible. Plus, I've always been troubled by the flip side of the phrase, "Well I had my guardian angel looking out for me!" For me, logically, this seems to break down when bad things happen. "Well, I guess HE didn't have his guardian angel looking out for him" or, worse, we end up with angels slacking off on the job or actually seeking harm to come to those under their charge. Some guardian!?

I'm sensing some amount of disconnect with the spiritual experience of my peers.

At least 44% of them have felt called by God to something.

I guess the question is called to WHAT?

Reflections on the Holy Trinity

John 16:12-15

The Spirit comes silently into our hearts
bringing love
bringing life
and pointing to the one who brought us life
Jesus the Christ
The Living God
In our desires to be the center
and our desires to turn inward
wrapping ourselves up in ever smaller packages
fearing that if we are not the center
there will be no center
in our emptiness
longing to find that to which we can cling
The Spirit comes
and points to the Christ
the one who walked with us
the one who lived with us
the one who was us
and died like us
only to live and bring life
This is the one to whom the Spirit points
simply
quietly
that we may know God’s love for us
and burst forth in new life
new creation


This is from Pastor Dan's Grace Notes at Christ Our Savior Lutheran Church in Anchorage.

Some Reflections on Orthodoxy and the Spirit

Two days ago was Pentecost Sunday and Girdwood Chapel, like many, many churches around the world, celebrated the coming of the Holy Spirit to God's church.

Of course, we read Acts 2:1-21, with some dramatic flair--even starting worship with it. We also read from John 14, closing with:

”I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

We sang "Sweet, Sweet Spirit" and "Spirit of God" as found in The Faith We Sing hymnal. We had our "Pentecost People" (red clothing in the shapes of persons) up on the wall.

The occasion of the coming of the Spirit got me thinking a little bit about "ORTHODOXY" -- right belief.


See, some years ago I had a member of a church approach me with questions about the Holy Spirit. This person believed in Jesus as "Lord and Savior" and believed in God the Father. This person recited the Lord's Prayer with gusto and sang in the choir and served the poor. From looking at his life, he certainly "looked" a whole lot more Christian than a lot of the other people sitting in the pews. What this person said was that they could not do was believe in the Holy Spirit. At this point in time, several years later, I'm not exactly sure what the holdup was. I understand that, intellectually, the Spirit seems to take more of leap of faith for some persons. It's that whole "you can't see the Spirit but you can see what the Spirit does" thing. But, at the end of the day...and at the end of the conversation...he didn't believe in the Holy Spirit.

Is that outside the realm of "ORTHODOXY"? If so, what does that mean? Is that person going to burn with unquenchable fire? Does grace abound? Does it matter if one stands outside of traditional orthodoxy? These are not simple, little questions.

So, is this outside of the realm of "Orthodoxy?" I want to say, "yes." I view traditional orthodoxy as the historical creeds of the church -- the Apostle's, the Nicene, etc. I want to say that this...this...is right belief...orthodoxy. So, if that's where I draw the lines, then what does it mean to be outside of that? What does it mean to have "incorrect" or "wrong" belief?

What if I believe that God used evolution as a tool to create the human race whom he loves? What if I believe women should be priests/pastors or if I'm a pastor who has experienced divorce and still is serving a local church? What if I believe that Scripture is the infallible and inspired Word of God but have difficulty with "literalism"? What if I believe in premillennial dispensationalism rather than postmillennnial dispensationalism? How narrow a circle are we drawing here and what are the ramifications for being on the outside of that circle...being "heterodox" in belief? And, where does grace come to us on our journeys outside of orthodoxy? And where does our quest for orthodoxy merely lead us into the realm of the Pharisees, straining gnats and swallowing camels?

Two thoughts here:

1. Eternal ramifications: I know that whoever calls on the name of Jesus will be saved. Beyond that, it is not my place to say. I put my trust in a God whom I believe has "Grace greater than all my sin" and will be much more welcoming at the pearly gates than I ever would.
2. Rather than focusing on a legalistic, separating, self-defining, other-defining orthodoxy, it's important for the church to bring persons into relationship with each other and with Jesus Christ, to be in a posture of growth, and to cast ourselves upon Christ's great mercy. "Correct belief" is not unimportant. I'm just not so sure we need to get into the level of detail that we have been known to do.

So, where does that leave the fellow who didn't believe in the Holy Spirit? Well, I want to say that his belief system was not orthodox. He stands outside the realm of orthodox Christianity and, if I were still his pastor, it would be part of my job to explain the reasons for our traditional understanding of the Holy Spirit and continue to work with him to live his life fully in Christ. And I'll put my trust in the Amazing Grace of our God to work out all the eternal details for each of us.

Watership Down: A Lesson in Storytelling

I have announced that we'll be starting a new sermon series next week on the parables and we're calling it, "The Stories Jesus Told."  I don't know many preachers who don't like the parables.  We all, I think, have our favorites.  My favorite is "The Parable of the Prodigal Son" from Luke.  It always has been.  I see myself in it as the younger son and the older son, and sometimes like the Father.  I think it's pretty much the Gospel in Parable form.

But, more than just liking the parables, part of the education I received had a focus on the narrative nature of our faith.  Stories define us.  They shape us.  They provide context.  Indeed, they form the basis of our communities.  We are who we are because we share certain stories about each other and about ourselves as a group. Think of how stories defined your own family...perhaps the stories that were told when you gathered for Thanksgiving dinner or a family wedding.  They are what we talk about and laugh about and tell over and over and over again.  And if we don't have those stories?  Well, then we just have awkward silences.

And so, for us Christians, the stories we tell define us.  They shape our ministries and provide a context for our discussions.

If we forget the stories, then, in a real sense, we forget who we are.

When thinking about all of this, I was reminded of an essay I read of Stanley Hauerwas way back when I was in undergraduate school.  Hauerwas is Christian theologian and ethicist.  And I took a class under him when I was in seminary at Duke.  Hauerwas wrote "A Story-Formed Community: Reflections on Watership Down" back in 1981.  I must have read it about 1990 while I was in undergraduate school.  It's a good read.  And from this we get a clearer understanding of the importance of narrative in our communities.  If we forget to tell the stories or if we forget to take them seriously then we run the risk of losing our identities.


Donna Farley of A Spell for Refreshment of the Spirit has a nice summary of this work...all the way down to three paragraphs long.  The important things to know is that Hazel is our hero as he leads a band of rabbits around.  Hazel and the others have left their warren out of fear for their lives and are left to wander.  They meet other warrens, particularly "Cowslip's Warren" that have become highly individualized and have forgotten the stories that are meant to shape them into followers of El-ahrairah.

Stories of the rabbit hero El-ahrairah are embedded in the main narrative, each one recounted at a time when the rabbits need to be buoyed up by the particular lesson of a particular story. These tales are by turns inspiring, thrilling, humorous, or frightening; and they model such virtues as cleverness, courage, and teamwork.
In contrast to the love of Story shown by the band of rabbits led by Hazel, another group of rabbits in the story have forgotten, downplayed and despised the traditional stories, instead steeping themselves in depressing modernist poetry. This rabbit warren, know as Cowslip’s warren, is living in self-deceit. They train themselves to accept death—because death is the price they pay for comfort. Their warren is surrounded by snares set by the farmer who feeds them and keeps off the foxes. Whenever one of their number goes missing, they pretend to forget that rabbit’s existence.
It is a chilling portrait. But the rabbits of Hazel’s group are by contrast the kind of characters the reader finds himself wanting to emulate. Inspired by the daring and cunning of El-ahrairah and his faithful helper Rabscuttle, Hazel’s rabbits dare to make a journey to find a new home. They learn new skills, make friends of other rabbits and even non-rabbits, and hold together against the attack of the martial warren of Efrafa. When the story of Watership Down is over and the warren at peace, Hazel and his friends have become part of the story tradition that is being learned by new generations of rabbits. What a thing to aspire to—to be part of the great Story of life in such a way that we, even we ourselves, can become the heroes of our children and grandchildren!

So, what does this have to do with our Parables?  Everything!  The Parables of Jesus (along with the rest of the Bible) is, indeed, truth.  But it is truth in story-form and was meant to be shared and passed on to our children and our children's children so that they can continue to define us.   For, if we fail to do this, we may end up like the poor rabbits at Cowslip's warren, lost and story-less.

(This analogy takes on added weight in an environment where our native brothers and sisters have lost many of their stories over the last 70 years as "white" culture has taken over.  How important are the stories of our Alaskan Natives?)

Posted via email from The Prodigal Blog

The Only Hermeneutic -- A Congregation that Beleives

I have been pondering this small post over at J.R. Woodward's "Dream Awakener" for the last couple of days since I found it.  The post has a great quote from Lesslie Newbigin.  The whole post is as follows:

This next paragraph by Lesslie Newbigin, though short and concise is deep, rich and worth considerable reflection – especially for those of us who live in the West.   It first appeared in an article, "Evangelism in the City," written in 1987 for the Reformed Review.  I am taking this from Lesslie Newbigin – Missionary Theologian.

"How can this strange story of God made flesh, of a crucified Savior, of resurrection and new creation become credible for those whose entire mental training has conditioned them to believe that the real world is the world which can be satisfactorily explained and managed without the hypothesis of God? I know of only one clue to the answering of that question, only one real hermeneutic of the gospel:  a congregation which believes it."  – Lesslie Newbigin

A congregation that is growing in grace and is learning to embody the ministry of reconciliation, walk with God, follow the way of Jesus,  become peacemakers, fight for justice, immerse themselves in God’s story, who find healing and wholeness in community and are shaped the the sacred text is the kind of community that believes!

A HERMENEUTIC is an interpretation...usually referring to the Gospel or to the Bible.  So, here, Newbigin is saying that the best, or rather, "only" interpretation of the gospel is a congregation that believes it.   This floors me.  It's like Shane Claibornes' understanding that we are to "fascinate the world with grace."  We are to have congregations, people, faithful Christians who actually believe all this stuff we talk about and actually live it.

As pastor I know I suffer from a Messiah complex of sorts.  "Oh, if people could only be as faithful as me" I'm sure I secretly think to myself as I, too, let my little faith get in the way of my hopes and dreams for my church...our church...THE CHURCH.  Perhaps on this journey we all need to really believe what it is that we say we do.  How that's going to work out...I don't know.  But I'm willing, with God's help, of course, to try.

(Picture above http://www.flickr.com/photos/denise-ann-wells/ / CC BY-ND 2.0)