Occasio

What belongs in the church?

There's been a fantastic discussion going on my church's Facebook page the last few days (https://www.facebook.com/groups/8466882591/). The issue at hand emerges from a sermon that Pastor James Bergen and environmental activist Tom Cotter presented on Sunday morning. The two made the case for creation care as a form of biblical stewardship. While this could be a bit controversial, and hopefully provocative, for an evangelical/Anabaptist church like mine, the discussion has primarily centered on a secondary issue.

Ten environmentally conscious organizations set up displays in the foyer and encouraged people to consider options like recycling, solar power and bike riding. Some of the congregants felt uncomfortable with what could be perceived as "vendors" in church. Furthermore, it was hard for some to make a biblical connection to these "non-Christian" activists. The general question raised has to do with what is or is not appropriate to bring into the church. It's a great issue to consider.

One of the very large dilemmas Christians face is deciding whether something is Christian or not. We might want to say something should be kept out of the church because it is secular/non-Christian. But that presents at least three problems.

First, someone has to be the judge of what is Christian and what is not. What would be the test? In the case of inviting representatives from agencies, should we ask them whether they have made personal decisions to follow Christ? I know people who work for Planned Parenthood, an agency that would not be considered Christian by many, who would certainly identify themselves followers of Jesus. And I know some self-proclaimed Christian authors and artists who many faithful would regard as heretical. So it's a very big problem to start saying who is and who isn't a Christian and therefore allowed in the church.

For me, the scariest part of this dilemma is that the specific fault Jesus was continually accused of is that he hung out with irreligious people: tax collectors, prostitutes, lepers, sinners. The danger here is that I might be missing the very people God wants me to interact with because I view them as secular, irreligious or non-Christian.

Second, if by some process we can determine what things/people/agencies are Christian or not, and we commit to excluding those that we decide are non-Christian, we're going to have to throw all kinds of stuff out of our churches. Start by tossing the Christmas tree, which has a long history of pagan ritual usage. Then head over to the guitars and drums, invented explicitly for use in secular music. Even the organ has its origins in the ancient Greeks. The church building itself was first a secular court house (basilica) in the time of Constantine. Finally, the cross, the most heinous, cruel and secular symbol of the Roman Empire, would need to be removed. The history of the Christian church is replete with similar examples. Maybe the church is exactly the place where symbols of the world collide with the truth of the Creator.

Finally, I wonder what the representatives of the environmental organizations thought about our invitation to participate in the service. I wonder if they've been invited to many other churches. Or, have they been rejected by churches enough that they have a negative impression of Christianity? I hope they saw on Sunday a congregation of grace, one that cares for them and the whole of creation. Maybe for that reason alone some of them will be back to worship with us. Maybe they'll find a God in our church they never new existed.

It's wonderful to have conversations about the spiritual nature of things. I hope that these conversations will not divide us, but rather drive us to a broader understanding of our diversity in Christ. This probably says a lot about my values system, but I'll favor grace over exclusion every time. Which means I would never opt to kick someone out if they disagreed with me. :-)

The handwriting is on the wall: mene, mene, tekel, parsin

I’m thinking about Daniel on this Election Day. Daniel, the young Hebrew who was taken into Babylonian captivity, served in the court of King Nebuchadnezzar and then King Belshazzar. There are many stories about Daniel—his interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams, his ordeal in the lion’s den, his apocalyptic visions—the oddest of which includes an encounter with a disembodied hand and some cryptic writing on a wall.

In Daniel 5, we are told that King Belshazzar hosted a feast in which he desecrated the sacred vessels once used for temple worship in Jerusalem. At this banquet, a ghoulish hand appeared and began to write on the wall: “mene, mene, tekel, parsin” (loosely meaning: numbered, weighed, divided). After the king’s advisors failed to interpret the mysterious phrase, Daniel was called on to help.

Daniel immediately interpreted the inscription as an indictment of Belshazzar. His explanation is found in 5:25-26,

Here is what these words mean:
Mene: God has numbered the days of your reign and brought it to an end.
Tekel: You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.
Peres: Your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.

The chapter continues, “That very night Belshazzar, king of the Babylonians, was slain, and Darius the Mede took over the kingdom” (5:30). It was the end of an empire.

This is a great story for Election Day because it reminds me of two things.

First, regardless of who wins the presidential election, the days of any leader’s earthly reign are numbered. Presidents, princes and prime ministers are temporal officials, all subject to removal. Tomorrow, November 7, we’ll know who will lead this country for the next four years. After that, who can tell? In a very short time we’ll hear of politicking in Iowa and Ohio, we’ll weigh the validity of parties and candidates and we’ll decide who will be given the next chance to run the earthly empire called America.

Second, I’m reminded that God’s kingdom is very different than those of nations and states. “God has numbered the days of your reign.” Earthly kingdoms are temporal. Kingdoms rise, and kingdoms fall. But God’s kingdom is eternal. The “now and not yet” has already come, is coming in an ongoing way and will continue to come, regardless of who is elected. Daniel’s role in the empire of his day is also worth paying attention to. He engaged the court and served the king, but he never abandoned his Hebrew heritage. Daniel refused to capitulate to the king or surrender his identity as a member of God’s kingdom. In fact, he very quickly spoke truth to power, an act that could have meant his death. Thus the tension: how to live as members of a nonpolitical eternal kingdom while participating in an earthly one. Daniel is one of my heroes in this regard.

The handwriting is on the wall. Whether it’s Obama or Romney, the days are numbered. Not so with God. What a grand kingdom we have the opportunity to be a part of. The King of all kings is active and working for the advancement of his kingdom in ways that political pundits and strategists will never understand.

A declining church in a spiritual culture

Here is a teaser for an article I just wrote for "Scholars Speak," a series of editorials by Fresno Pacific University professors.

A declining interest in religion has been well documented, but a recent survey by the Pew Forum signals the trend is accelerating. For the first time, less than half of the U.S. population considers itself Protestant. Just 40 years ago, Protestants could boast an affiliation with two- thirds of the country.
 
The number of those who don't identify with any faith tradition has also skyrocketed. Forty years ago only 7 percent of the country reported no religious affiliation. That number rose to 15 percent five years ago, and today almost 20 percent of Americans declare they are unaffiliated with any religion.
 
The culture, however, is not as secularized as we might conclude. Of those who don't claim any religious tradition, two-thirds believe in God, one-fifth pray every day and over half think of themselves as religious or spiritual. What is going on? How do we make sense of a trend toward religious disaffiliation while living in a highly spiritual culture?

Want to read the rest of the article? Follow this link.

Why I think "Why I hate religion but love Jesus" is dangerous

To all my friends who have been disillusioned by church, have been hurt by organized Christianity, or have given up on religion, please don’t jump on the “I hate religion” bandwagon.

Within the last few days, a video by Jefferson Bethke labeled “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus” has had over seven million views on YouTube. That’s quite stunning. Comments on Facebook about this video show that countless people identify with the sentiment that “religion is bad” and “Jesus is good.” I have numerous friends who have been judged, ostracized or treated unfairly by the church. I understand the pain that can come from these experiences.

I, myself, have been confronted, questioned, censored, and banned for challenging assumptions and suggesting solutions to problems within the church (here and throughout this post I’m referring to the church as a whole, not my local congregation). In fact, I’ve been placed on a “watch list” and know that some people will be reading this in an effort to keep an eye on me (peace and grace to you all). All of this has caused a significant amount of pain for me and my family. If anyone has a right to bash institutional religion, it’s me.

A common response when wronged by the church is to condemn the church and then withdraw from organized religion. But this is not the way forward. Isolation, dislocation, fear and hate of anything will not help anyone become a better follower of Christ. Unfortunately, it’s far easier to walk away from and condemn something than it is to stay and help make a change.

So, though I have a pretty consistent (and I think valid) critique of institutionalized Christianity, here are some reasons why I think a “why I hate religion but love Jesus” approach is simplistic, unbiblical and even dangerous.

1. It is not possible to have a belief system without religion. An organized religion is a framework for understanding a particular faith, and includes beliefs, values and practices. A religion creates a whole culture in which one lives and worships. The notion that someone can have Jesus without having religion is a bit like the person who wants a contemporary music-driven worship service because he or she doesn’t like liturgy. Yet even the most charismatic and spirit-led church undoubtedly follows a pattern for worship that is repeated again and again on a weekly basis. This is precisely what a liturgy is—a way of “doing” church. Religion is a way of “doing” faith. It is the system which allows faith to be expressed and passed on to all of its adherents. Religion can be used for good or bad, but there is no escaping it if you believe in and follow God.
2. It’s a very sad point, but this notion that one must make a choice between religion (which is evil) and Jesus (which is good) reflects a prevailing idea among Evangelicals: all that matters is my relationship with Jesus. Our narcissistic, individualistic and egocentric culture has led us to unconsciously believe the myth that the most important thing a person can do is make sure that he or she is right with God. Just in the last fifty years believers have turned worship into a desperate search for therapeutic healing, singing “I want you, I need you, I love you,” and “help me, save me, love me.” It’s the Jesus-is-my-boyfriend scenario. We think God exists simply to help us and make us feel better, and that’s how we judge our Sunday morning worship experience. On the contrary, the Christian life is one of community and the worship experience should not be a focus on the self but on the mystery, majesty, character and transcendence of God. Bethke argues that religion is for the self-righteous, but that argument backfires on him. It’s those who think they can exist outside of religious structures that are the most self-righteous and indulgent. Religion is the vehicle that brings us to the place of community and worship. To suggest that one can do without religion is to suggest that one can live apart from the body of Christ.
3. The video does not present an accurate interpretation of scripture and Bethke contradicts himself multiple times. Here’s just one example. The opening line in this video states “Jesus came to abolish religion.” The idea is later repeated as “Jesus hated religion.” Is this true? If so, Jesus would have had to toss out the entire Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament) and all the “law” within it. Due to a gross misreading of Paul, we often believe that the law is bad and that Jesus came to replace it. But, in Jesus' own words, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matthew 5:17). In the parable of the Good Samaritan Jesus affirms the law and tells his listeners to “go and do likewise.” The law of the Moses, essentially the code of Hebrew religion, was not something Jesus hated, nor did the Jewish people in general. The law guided, directed and freed the Hebrews to love their God, learn about their God and live for their God. The main point of Psalm 119, the longest chapter of the Bible, is exactly that—love for the law of the Lord. While it’s true that Jesus had harsh words for the hypocritical teachers of the law, he had the deepest respect and honor for his Jewish heritage. The Bible simply does not support any dualistic notion that Jesus and religion were in opposition to one another.
4. Another problem with the “I hate religion” approach is that it never offers any answers. Those who withdraw from organized religion seldom have any hopeful suggestions or practical ways to positively work for change within religion. I teach and mentor a lot of young adults who are preparing for ministry at Fresno Pacific University where I am an associate professor of ministry. I see many students who are discouraged and frustrated by the institutional church, and in many cases rightly so. Unfortunately, the favored option is to withdraw from the established church, strike out on their own and plant a new church. And who can blame them? Working in an existing church, especially an historic church can be very hard. Patterns are often engrained and rigid. It’s simply easier to go it alone. There are many troubling issues about this scenario, but perhaps the greatest is this: we need the gifts, talents, skills and contributions of all people in the church, not just from those with which we agree. Church should be the safest place on earth to be different, to disagree and to offer countering ideas. True community encourages fresh ideas and new practices. If you are a young pastor, leader or member of a congregation thinking about leaving the institutionalized church because of disagreements, please don’t—we need you! 
5. Finally, while I recognize that organized religion has numerous faults and has hurt many people, the way forward might actually be through a renewed and revitalized interpretation of religion itself. Just as Jesus didn’t call for the abolishment of the law but its complete fulfillment, so we might find a correction to the church’s dysfunctions through a recommitment to its practices. Whatever we might call this culture we live in—postmodern, post-Christendom, post-Christian or other—and for all of our attempts to create new models of church, target new segments of the population, initiate new musical styles or flee our religious past, I believe the answers lie in the historic church. I’m encouraged when I see college students engaging in the ancient spiritual disciplines of the church. A new generation is finding deep meaning in lectio divina, silence, fasting, prayer labyrinths, historic creeds and so much more. These practices are the bedrock of the historic church. As we again discover these rich disciplines of a 4000-year old religion, we will draw together in communities that reimagine the role of the church while listening for the active presence of God in our midst. This isn’t a time for throwing religion out, it’s a time for rediscovering what it really is, working to right the wrongs and stepping into the great adventure that God has always intended for his people.

As I said earlier, I certainly have reason to be negative and judgmental of the church and organized religion. But condemning it is not the answer. Neither is expecting everybody to become like me and believe like I do. If you have been hurt, please consider that no church is perfect, nor are the people in it. Religion is not bad or good, though it can be used for both. In the end, the church is the biggest and best run volunteer organization in the world. Let’s not give up on the church, but let’s keep working, together, to shape it, change it and imagine what God could do through it to accomplish his purposes, just as he did through the chaos of the Spirit’s coming 2000 years ago to a frightened gathering of believers in Jerusalem.

Anabaptism for the twenty-first century

Today I had the amazing privilege of participating in an historic event. As chair of the division of Biblical and Religious Studies at Fresno Pacific University I represented our department in the dedication of the Center for Anabaptist Studies. The purpose of this Center is to research, teach and envision how the original Anabaptist movement of the sixteenth century might influence and inform our theology and churchly practice in the twenty-first century.

These are my people. This is my tradition. This radical wing of the Reformation was neither Protestant nor Catholic. Harold Bender reminds us in his book The Anabaptist Vision that it was a movement of priests and peasants who centered their understanding of God’s kingdom in three things: discipleship, community and the way of peace. For this they were hunted, persecuted and martyred.

Dr. Valerie Rempel gave an inaugural address in which she provided a concise definition of Anabaptism and offered a rationale for the founding of the Center. Here is an excerpt from her presentation.

In the 16th Century, some of the greatest theological minds of that era began to read the Bible in new ways. The text itself hadn’t changed but because of their experience in the Roman Catholic church, their own study of the scripture and, I have to believe, the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives, they began to develop a new understanding of God’s grace and free offer of salvation. Among those who were committed to reforming the church were those who wanted more than reform – they wanted to restore the kinds of communities described in the New Testament. These were the men and women who became known as the Anabaptists. Many of them lost their lives because of their witness to a new way.

Anabaptists were radical Bible readers at the core. They understood the reign of God to be centered in the church rather than the state, and believed that the body of Christ was to give visible witness to its proper citizenship. They saw themselves as present-day disciples of Jesus and because of that, they gave special weight to Jesus’s teaching – to his invitation to live generous lives, to his call for love of enemies, to his encouragement to participate in God’s work of healing and justice and hope. They formed voluntary churches based on an adult confession of faith. They practiced mutual aid. They practiced church discipline.

As spiritual descendants of those early radicals, these ideas have informed our theological tradition and our church practices. But, nearly 500 years later, we live in a very different period of time. Separation between church and state has morphed from a theological idea about proper allegiances, to a political idea embedded in a constitution. Old enemies – church bodies that persecuted early Anabaptists, are now brothers and sisters in common endeavors – mission enterprises, community development projects, health and human service ministries, and educational programs. We are witnessing the demise of Christendom, a political and cultural reality that privileged Christianity but also invited, indeed welcomed, compromise. In its place is an increasingly secularized society and an increasingly secularized church.

I believe that this is a time that calls for radical Bible reading. The text hasn’t changed – but the times we live in have and they call us to re-engage with God’s Word and with our own theological tradition to see how it can offer us wisdom for living as Christians in our world and for engaging in mission that invites all people to become followers of Jesus and children of God.

I, too, believe that Anabaptism is a viable and relevant option for our postmodern, post-Christendom culture. In an age when people are increasingly skeptical of a superficial gospel that amounts to nothing more than “fire insurance” from the “flames of Hell,” the call to discipleship is compelling and authentic. As people face the crushing and dehumanizing consequences of individualism, the call to community is meaningful. As people recognize the failure of war and militarism to bring about positive change, the call to a way of peace is hopeful. This is the time to dream dreams and allow the Spirit to move us in ways that are often counter to the culture we inhabit. And a re-envisioned Anabaptism gives us the theology, history and tradition from which we can engage the new world around us.

Another quote from Dr. Rempel:

I want the Center to be a place that encourages our own tradition – the Mennonite Brethren church that gave birth to the University and the Seminary – to reclaim its theological heritage. The question of allegiance – to God or to the state – has not gone away. We, too, struggle with an increasingly secularized society and its impact on the church. It is difficult for us to resist the lure of a consumer society – to live lives of simplicity and generosity. Too often, we find ourselves fighting over how God accomplished the work of salvation through Jesus, rather than joining together to proclaim the message that Jesus does indeed save and that through him, people and communities can be transformed. We need active imaginations that can envision ways for our congregations to live out their calling to be the body of Christ and we need the courage to lead.

My people died at the hands of their persecutors for these beliefs. They would not claim allegiance to the state. They would not take up arms against the enemies of the state. They would not baptize their children, but rather chose adult confession of faith. They would not coerce anyone to join them. They were, however, a people of discipleship, community and peace, committed to the Sermon on the Mount. For this they died.

Particularly thrilling today, was when I got to hold a copy of a 263-year-old book. This book, The Martyrs Mirror, is a collection of stories chronicling the deaths of an untold number of Anabaptist martyrs. First published in 1660, the copy that I held was printed in 1748. Documented as the largest book to be printed in Colonial America, and older than the Declaration of Independence, the book before me held story after story of people who sacrificed everything to be a part of this radical way of life.

One of the most famous stories tells of the Anabaptist Dirk Willems. Dirk had the opportunity to flee his captors, but as he ran across a frozen lake he suddenly heard the cries of his pursuer. Dirk’s would-be-captor had fallen through the ice and was certain to be drowned. In an act of compassion, Dirk rescued his pursuer, was recaptured and later burned at the stake.

These are my people. I am very proud to be a founding partner in the Center for Anabaptist Studies. I believe that God has a great and vibrant future for us as we bear witness to his Son through the ongoing creative work of his Spirit, and as we carry forward the heritage of our past.

Here is the dedicatory prayer I offered for the center:

We come today, our great God and Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, through the guidance of the Spirit, to ask for wisdom and discernment. We ask that you would enlighten our minds, open our eyes and soften our hearts for the mission at hand. We ask that you would challenge us through the vast host of witnesses that have gone before us, the forbears of a great tradition of faith – a tradition committed to discipleship, witness, service, community and peace. 

We ask, Father, that you will anoint and bless The Center for Anabaptist Studies. And as the various partners work together to further a theological, historical and educational mission, will you revive the hearts of your children and draw all people to yourself.

We ask a blessing upon Dr. Valerie Rempel, our center’s director. Give her vision, passion and purpose for the challenges that lie ahead.  We are grateful for the benefactors that have made this center possible. We honor their faithfulness to the Anabaptist vision and thank you for them.

God our Father, an idea is born today. For some, it would seem to be an idealistic one, an antiquated aberration of history. Some would even call it heretical as they did 500 years ago. But today, God, we stand together to again commit ourselves to the way of Jesus, though that way may not make sense, though that way may not be popular and though that way may not walk easily in step with the current culture.  We believe that we have a vital and prophetic message for the twenty-first century and we believe that there are those, especially the young who are so disenchanted with popular ideologies and paradigms, that will also find hope, meaning and purpose in a third way.

So, today, our great God, we dedicate The Center for Anabaptist Studies to you and ask that you grant us favor.

Ephesians 3:20-21
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

 

The spirit/wind/breath of God's creation

Psalm 104 is a beautiful poetic recounting of God's marvelous act of creation. In this 3000-year-old poem the author praises Yahweh for his creativity and his sustenance of the cosmos. The psalmist mirrors the Genesis story by recalling God's creation of the heavens and earth, the plant and animal kingdoms and human beings. Yahweh is to be praised as the divine author and sustainer of his magnificent creation.

As I read this inspiring psalm recently, I was struck by the psalmist's testimony of what he perceives God to be doing, not just in the past, but in the present activity of everyday life. He reminds his soul to rejoice in the ongoing work of creation which is evident in the continual blessings and benefits God bestows on his handiwork. God continues to be at work as humans do all the normal things of daily life and activity, as animals hunt for and gather food, as plants spring to life then wither and die and as streams and rivers swell and recede in their normal seasonal patterns.

Verses 29-30 are particularly thought-provoking. Speaking of the living world, the psalmist asserts,

When you hide your face,
   they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
   they die and return to the dust.
When you send your Spirit,
   they are created,
   and you renew the face of the earth. (NIV)

Essential to understanding these two verses is the use of the Hebrew word ruach. It's an amazing word representing a broad and important concept. Ruach can be translated in several different ways, most commonly as spirit, wind, and breath. Verse 29 literally says, "when you take away their spirit/wind/breath, they die...." In a similar way, verse 30 says, "When you send your spirit/wind/breath, they are created...." God's ruach is his ever-present ongoing spirit-of-life/wind-of-life/breath-of-life which enables the act of creation.

Though ruach is used in Psalm 104, it has a much older history. We find the first use of ruach in the first book of the bible. Genesis 1:1-2 records, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters" (NIV).

The NRSV translates the last line as “a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” The general sense is that God was actively beginning the process of creation through his spirit/wind/breath. Furthermore, ruach is clearly a feminine noun. Ruach hovers and broods over the nest of creation, and as it germinates and begins to take shape she guides and nurtures the process.

As we step into the New Testament we are quickly confronted with “spirit” language. In one of the bible’s most famous stories we find a Pharisee named Nicodemus coming to Jesus with questions about God (John 3:1-21). Jesus responds, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” (NIV). Rather than “born again,” a more accurate translation is “born from above.” Either way the emphasis is on new life through a birth other than that of a human nature.

When Nicodemus asks Jesus how this is possible, Jesus responds with,

Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. (NIV)

Every time the word “spirit” or “wind” is used in Jesus’ response, it is the Greek word pneuma. This word is the equivalent to the Hebrew ruach in the Old Testament. In answering Nicodemus’s question about how to enter the kingdom of God, Jesus draws upon the creation story of Genesis, as well as the long tradition of ruach as a creative motherly process. Eugene Peterson’s translation from John 3:5-6 of The Message is helpful and enlightening:

Jesus said, "You're not listening. Let me say it again. Unless a person submits to this original creation—the 'wind-hovering-over-the-water' creation, the invisible moving the visible, a baptism into a new life—it's not possible to enter God's kingdom. When you look at a baby, it's just that: a body you can look at and touch. But the person who takes shape within is formed by something you can't see and touch—the Spirit—and becomes a living spirit.

The same creative, life-giving spirit/wind/breath of Genesis is present and active in the salvation process. Thus, God continues his ongoing creative work through the very spirit and act of creation.

It’s not by coincidence then that Jesus appears to the disciples after his resurrection with a similar message. John 20:21-22 records the scene for us: “Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ And with that he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” In a final act with his disciples, Jesus breathes on them and grants them an equal portion, an in-filling, of God’s pneuma. The ruach of the Old Testament now hovers and broods over and in them to continue the powerful process of creation.

Psalm 104 took me on a journey through Old and New Testaments this week. I was reminded again to praise God with my whole being for his ongoing creative work in this world. The spirit continues to blow and breathe a fresh wind of life, restoration and salvation. And I, as a vessel of this nurturing, life-giving, brooding spirit, am called to join in the ongoing work of creation. When God sends his spirit, we should expect improbable and generative acts of creation -- the kinds of acts that most of us wouldn’t dare to imagine or dream about.

But let’s keep imagining and dreaming. To do anything less might mean quenching the spirit and impeding the creative work of the kingdom at hand.

 

I know a girl who's like a sea
I watch her changing every day for me

One day she's still, the next she swells
You can hear the universe in her sea shells

No line on the horizon

 

U2 and the failed rapture - such a disappointment

The rapture has come and gone. Harold Camping and his Family Radio franchise predicted a massive earthquake that would roll across the planet corresponding to exactly 6:00 PM in every time zone on May 21. At the same time Christians were to be raptured up into the air, finally being delivered from the evils of the world and ushered into the presence of God in heaven.

Such a disappointment.

Not that the rapture didn’t happen—that’s not the disappointment. The disillusionment comes from watching the whole farcical, tragic mess unfold. The heartbreaking reality is that Christians, fueled by a media that almost solely looks for sensationalism in a story, often miss the meaning and purpose of the church and God’s kingdom for this not-so-late-great-planet Earth.

As a kid I lived through the 1970s and was influenced by the hysteria of end times doctrine. I read Hal Lindsey, Tim LaHaye and other popular authors who created a new genre of Christian horror/sci-fi/fantasy. I went to a camp where the speaker explained all of the mystical peoples, signs and places of the Bible by careful isolating and then linking individual verses, with the end result of teaching us who Gog and Magog were, what the antichrist and the beast would do and other concepts like tribulation, millennium and rapture. I saw my share of scare-the-hell-out-of-you plays, skits and movies. All of us Evangelicals thought the end was at hand.

And then, a few years later I realized that this whole convoluted scheme for understanding Christ’s return was actually less than 200 years old. It was only introduced and then popularized by people like John Darby (considered the father of dispensationalism) in the mid-nineteenth century and C.I. Scofield (author of the Scofield Reference Bible which emphasized dispensationalism) in the early twentieth century. This type of systematic teaching was further formalized by Lewis Chafer, the founder of Dallas Theological Seminary, in the mid-twentieth century, and teachings on the rapture and the millennium gained wild popularity in the seventies through Lindsey’s and LaHaye’s writings (even though the terms are never even found in the Bible). None of this was even thought of for the first 1800 years of the Christian Church.

Such a disappointment.

Because of our modern focus on leaving Earth (yes, I said “our” focus), Evangelicals have missed out on one of the greatest truths of scripture: the Kingdom of God is among us. It’s not here or there, Jesus said, it’s in your midst and it continues to come. The “eternal life” of John 3:16 is something that starts in the here-and-now. He prayed, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Jesus illustrated the kingdom with metaphors of a tiny seed growing into a huge tree and yeast that permeates the rising dough. When he left this world his disciples were deeply concerned about knowing when he would return. His answer? “That’s none of your business, you belong here so get busy doing the work of my kingdom.” In seeking to evacuate this planet we forget that the church is a beautiful sign, testimony and witness of God’s great kingdom. Well... it's supposed to be.

Such a disappointment.

May 21, 2011 was not just an epic fail for the rapture, it also marked the return of U2 to the United States. Those who follow the theological threads of U2’s work know that one of the more consistent themes found in their songs is that of eschatology, or in other words, a theology of end times (see "My U2 Rapture Playlist" here).  
 
As a quick illustration, check out the title and album cover for their most recent project No Line on the Horizon. Undoubtedly, the title represents a view of the kingdom suggested by Jesus’ prayer, “on earth as it is in heaven.” The cover art is a beautiful black and white photo of the ocean meeting sky with the horizon running perfectly through the middle. Superimposed on the clear wrapper of the CD is an equal sign arranged in such a way that one bar of the sign straddles heaven and the other rests on earth. It's a beautiful representation of a holistic biblical concept of heaven and earth. One is not evil and the other good; both are avenues through which God brings his kingdom.

During the concert (remember, it’s the night of the supposed rapture), the band played the song “Until the End of the World,” a marvelous apocalyptic tune in which they retell Judas’s story of betrayal and ask the hypothetical question of whether God’s love and grace are big enough to redeem Judas (their answer is unequivocally, “Yes!”). But, on this night, Bono had a variety of comments to make about the hype and hysteria of the day. Here are some of his remarks.

In the intro to the song Bono announces, “This is for the reverend Harold Camping” and then a bit later, “Such a disappointment.”

Such a disappointment.

Why? Because the rapture didn’t happen? No, that’s not the reason. The disappointment lies in that so many have misunderstood what the kingdom of God is and have been shifting the focus to some kind of earth-equals-hell-and-I’m-outta-here plan. The disappointment is that we have, all of us, including the non-Christian media outlets, turned a beautiful truth into a horror story. The disappointment comes from being unable to recognize that God is at work in his wonderful creation and that we have the opportunity (the responsibility?) to join him.

In the middle of the instrumental bridge of UTEOTW Bono brings it home. “God is in the house,” he says/admits/admonishes. He is here! He has come, he is coming and he will continue to come!

During the grand chaotic cacophony of the song’s final few strains, Bono screams with the conviction of a man that knows heaven is not just some distant ethereal place, “Somewhere! Somewhere! It is… it’s heaven!” And then in a beautiful poignant act of symbolism he reaches down, picks up some roses and one-by-one throws them to the impassioned crowd, shouting, “We bring peace! We bring peace!” The peace that Bono references is not some kind of fleeting 70s-style flower power, nor is it the forceful coercion of law and order, or even the absence of violence. It is the shalom of God’s kingdom, the entire story of the gospel including salvation, rescue, redemption, righteousness, justice, freedom and restoration. This is the stuff of heaven!

But the drama isn't over, and in a twist of irony so common at a U2 concert the band leave us with one more image. In the last moment of the song, in a scene played out on two bridges above the screaming crowd, Bono stretches across the chasm between he and The Edge and offers his fellow band member a rose. The trusses they stand on move closer and closer together but just inches away and unable to reach far enough, Bono drops the flower to the audience below. Is the peace of God's kingdom at hand? Yes. Is it here in its perfect and fullest form? Not yet. There will be days when we will recognize God's kingdom and reign over his beautiful creation and we will celebrate. But there will be other days when we acknowledge its incompleteness and continue to run, crawl, scale, climb and search for any glimpse of its glory. That is the tension in which we live.

The whole scene during UTEOTW is a cathartic, moving, grace-filled corrective to the escapist mentality of a rapture-centric American population. The kingdom of God is here, but not yet. It is now, but still to come. It is among us, but not completed. And U2, once again, masterfully and artistically have reminded us so.

Check out a couple of videos of "Until the End of the World" from the May 21 show.

Here is the whole song from a distance.

 

Here is a close-up of the stage. The footage of Bono is very impactful, particularly starting at 3:40. Highly recommended viewing!

 

Lyrics to the song here at the @U2 website.

(Here is another postI did on Bono's use of C.S. Lewis in which I mention the song "Until the End of the World.")

 

No more altar calls

While I have been doing doctoral work I had to give up something I really enjoyed: speaking at summer youth camps. It was a deal I made with my wife to try and bring some sanity to our home and protect our family (and, no, I don't have a demanding wife, I have a very smart wife). But now that five years of hard work and a dissertation are done, I've accepted an engagement this summer.

A few weeks ago the program director from a nearby camp in the Sierra Nevada mountains called and asked if I'd speak to 300+ junior highers. I was honored that he still thought well enough of me to ask. And I was curious (if not a little nervous) to see if this 48-year old college professor still had the knack for making biblical teachings accessible to teens. After the usual discussion of details about camp size, number of sessions, theme, purpose, etc., I let him know that I was interested but that I had some reservations about one particular component of the typical summer camp: the altar call.

Let me back up. I spent nine years working at one of the largest Christian youth camps in America in the 1980s and 1990s. I love children and youth, I love teaching the Bible and I love camp ministry. It was formative in my life and as a youth pastor I've seen it transform countless students' lives. Though many would argue that camp ministry is on the decline in a postmodern culture (at least the entertainment-driven model), it still has a valid place as a transformational component of adolescent faith development.

But, as I told the director of the camp, I now know so much more about the emotional, psychological, physiological and spiritual development of teenagers. I realize now that I and so many others have been guilty of manipulation when it comes to teen conversion. In his book Hurt: Inside the World of Today's Teenagers, Chap Clark brilliantly demonstrates that teens have an innate tendency and desire to please the adults around them. So when a caring and influential counselor asks a question like, "You want to become a Christian tonight, don't you?" the teen is inclined to say "Yes" just to please the adult. (By the way, the previous question is a horrible one in that it is leading, closed-ended and manipulative.) The motivation for a conversion experience is driven by approval from the counselor rather than a personal desire to follow Christ in a transformed life.

Added to the pressure to please adults is often some type of emotionally-charged environment such as, low lights, music, campfire and passioned pleas all after an exhausting week in which students are tired, stressed and easily manipulated. Tony Jones refers to this as "emotional rape." The altar call becomes nothing more than a chance to take advantage of adolescents who are already susceptible to poor decision-making. Teens often agree to some kind of commitment, usually in the form of a series of steps/laws or a formulaic prayer (which can be eerily similar to one of Harry Potter's magical incantations), without the adequate opportunity to understand what it is they are committing to. As the secular musician Maryn Cadell once recorded, "Invite Christ into my heart? How surreal. How serene. I didn't even know the man."

Does this mean that there is no room for a call to salvation at a summer youth camp? Not necessarily, but the method should be closely scrutinized. After assuring the camp director that I still believe in personal salvation I offered an alternative to the altar call (maybe I should call this an "alter call"). I propose that we begin to view salvation as a much more communal process rather than an isolated event. In the New Testament we find people joining a movement called The Way as they commit to following Christ. For these people there was no sense of personal salvation outside of the Christian community. This is why the unity of Jew and Gentile, male and female, slave and free is such a huge deal to the Apostle Paul. Recently a missionary I know by the name of Phil Bergen commented on the process of salvation, "In Burkina Faso becoming a Christian isn't a conversion. It's trading one community for another." Phil gets it because he's a missionary. Community is the place and means of salvation. This is first-century Acts stuff!

Danny Carroll has written a fantastic text on immigration called Christians at the Border: Immigration, the Church, and the Bible. In commenting on the Hebrews' understanding of community as it relates to salvation and acceptance of the foreigner, Carroll states, "In the ancient world, to leave one's gods was to renounce a crucial element of national and cultural identity. To believe in the deity of another people, and all that would entail, meant to enter into the very core of their existence and adopt their worldview." Salvation in both the Old and New Testaments usually means leaving behind one community and entering into a new community of brothers and sisters.

So what does this mean for the typical summer youth camp and a call to salvation? I am eager and excited to present the Gospel, review the life, death and resurrection of Jesus and teach about the saving grace of God. But after that presentation has happened from the stage (and not just in one meeting--it's certainly a fallacy to think that the entirety of the Gospel can be presented in one thirty-minute sermon), it's my job to send the student who has questions about God back to his or her youth leader. It's the individual youth leaders, counselors and pastors who know the context of their students the best, and therefore know how to best lead a student further on in the conversation about God. I'm just the one who primes the pump. The youth leaders are the ones who fill up the bucket. An abstract decision made by a student at my request will never be as strong as the decision made through intimate and personal conversation with a caring mentor in the youth group.

So, no more altar calls for me. (Furthermore, the altar call is an invention of nineteenth-century American revivalists and is not found in the Bible). From now on it'll be a deal-breaker as to whether I'll agree to speak at a camp. I'll gladly call students to a deeper commitment and understanding of God, but I won't use manipulative tactics. Salvation is a process (sometimes a very long process) that happens best in the context of relationship and community and family. I hope the staff and counselors I work with this summer agree. It'll be interesting to see if this camp invites me back.

"God in the Neighborhood" #6, observing the neighborhood

 
We continue to be surprised by God through the stories of engagement in our neighborhoods. Maybe we shouldn't be--after all, we told him we'd be looking for him. Our "God in the Neighborhood" class has been helping us see and hear what he is doing.

Sharing

Paul went into his neighborhood this week ready to ask good questions and listen to those he encountered. He noticed his neighbor working on a motorcycle so Paul simply asked about it. The neighbor began to tell stories of life which eventually led to sharing about his involvement in the National Guard. Stunned by Paul's interest in his life, the man made a telling comment: "Thanks, no one just listens to me."

Aaron was running before he came to church on Sunday, though he couldn't have imagined the situation God brought him to be a part of. Since he was feeling a bit ill he decided to take a shorter route than usual and also changed his routine by not wearing his iPod ear buds. He just wanted to enjoy the sunshine and listen to the sounds of the city on this particular run. What he heard shocked him.

 

F-bombs were flying. The young woman looked in trouble and Aaron had to quickly decide whether to intervene.

 

Not far from his home he noticed a car parked in the middle of a residential street. Though he thought it was a bit odd, he jogged on. Soon, however, he heard shouts of anger as a man and woman in a heated argument jumped out of the car. F-bombs were flying. The young woman looked in trouble and Aaron had to quickly decide whether to intervene. "Alright, God," thought Aaron, "Let's go over there and see what's going on."

Aaron spent the next twenty minutes calming the couple down and using his best conflict mediation skills, which felt woefully inadequate. The man soon walked off down the street and Aaron became the hands and feet of Jesus as he reassured the young woman, helped her find her car keys (which the man had thrown) and tried to temporarily fix the damage the man had done to the car door. In a final gesture of compassion Aaron offered his cell phone number to the distraught woman and prayed with her.

Aaron's story demonstrates what we've been learning together in this class--when we ask God to reveal himself in our neighborhoods we will most likely see things we never would have seen otherwise. So much of life is being lived all around us and until we become intentional about seeing and listening, we will miss the complex stories that happen every day. I'm reminded of Jesus' words in the Gospels, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

As I write this I'm listening to Arcade Fire's album called Funeral.  A significant set of songs on the album are simply titled "Neighborhood." The songs seem to represent various characters who describe and encounter life on the block. Sometimes bleak and cold, often filled with lament and pain, this young, raucous and abrasive group speaks to the realities of home life that many of us forget or don't know about. Arcade Fire's music is full of passion and empathy; they lay down poignant and emotional brush strokes on the canvas. The only way they can capture such a sonic portrait of real life is to watch and listen with the eyes and ears of a prophet. Though not Christian (to my knowledge) they demonstrate for me a way to be aware of and alert to life in my neighborhood.

When daddy comes home, you always start a fight
So the neighbors can dance in the police disco lights

The police disco lights
Now the neighbors can dance!
The police disco lights
Now the neighbors can dance!

-Arcade Fire, “Neighborhood #2”

Resource: Observation in the Neighborhood

Praying to see what God is doing in our neighborhoods means that we need to develop skills for seeing what is actually going on. This week the class members are going to walk around and observe what they can. Here is a list of things to consider.

Space: the physical place of places. How are buildings, homes, features arranged?

Objects: the physical things that are present. What items do you see? Trash bins, sidewalks, trees, fences?

Actors: the people involved. Who is out and about? What ethnicities, ages, types?

Actions:
Acts: single actions that people do. What are individuals doing?
Activities: a set of related acts people do. What do people get together to do?
Events: a set of related activities that people carry out. What do people do that is part of a larger project?

Sounds: action on the block that can be heard. What are the sounds? Dogs, trash pick up, motorcycles?

Smells: the types of smells. What aromas come from cooking, gardening, waste?

Time: the sequencing that takes place over time. What cycles are evident? Gardeners, trash pickup, comings and goings?

Feelings: the emotions felt and expressed. How do different people feel about their neighborhood?

Goals: the things people are trying to accomplish. Is there a common cause?

For another great guide to walking and observing in the neighborhood see “An Exegetical Walk” by Simon Carey Holt (from the book God Next Door: Spirituality & Mission in the Neighbourhood).

Participating and observing the structures, people and activities in a neighborhood will lead us to a much better understanding of what God is doing and how we can join.

(Update: a great article here about the spirituality of Arcade Fire's music, especially their last album The Suburbs.)

"God in the Neighborhood" #5, asking good questions

Sharing

Sunday’s “God in the Neighborhood” gathering encouraged and inspired me once again. We now routinely share about what we’re learning and seeing in the places where we live. Though this time of sharing is common it is, nonetheless, still exciting and Spirit-filled. (Click here for an introduction to this Sunday school series I’m leading.)

Paul learned this week in his neighborhood that God was already there. He discovered that a number of people who attend another church host a weekly Bible study for those who live on the block. He was excited to see another group of Christians already at work where he lives.

After being challenged to think about demographics last week, Melody did a little internet research. She accessed the website of the local elementary school and learned that the school's overall academic performance was in the bottom 10% of California. She also noticed that the school's enrollment was predominantly Hispanic. This raised all kinds of concerns and questions for Melody about ethnicity, poverty, education and more. She leads a tutoring club in NFC's neighborhood and is wondering what God is doing or might want to do where she lives.

Marcy began investigating the difference between two elementary schools her children have the opportunity to attend. She learned that the school with better scores and performance had a higher population of white students (as compared to the other school with less white students), even though the school touts multiculturalism as one of its benefits. She was left wondering why poverty and ethnicity are so closely associated with poor school performance, and why the educational system perpetuates this cycle.

Jamie has been working for a year on getting sugared drinks like chocolate and strawberry milk removed from the meals of the neighborhood elementary school. She is concerned about the negative physical and mental consequences these drinks bring. She has learned that almost a quarter of the school's students eat three meals a day on campus. Many of the food options are unhealthy and detrimental to a positive school experience. She continues to work toward healthier options, has earned the respect and support of her school, but has been met with resistance from a system that is very difficult to change.

Paul, Melody, Marcy and Jamie have all researched and investigated their neighborhoods in an attempt to know their neighborhoods better. They are on the lookout for what God is doing and discovering how they might join him.

Dwelling in the Word

Another routine we have is to read and listen to a passage of Scripture, specifically Luke 10:1-12. Today we spent some time thinking about Jesus’ instruction to accept hospitality. Jesus tells his disciples to enter homes and “stay there, eating and drinking whatever they give you.” A second time he emphasizes, “Eat what is offered to you.”

Americans are often the bearers of hospitality, help and benevolence, but we have a much harder time accepting the kind and gracious acts of others. We are good benefactors, but not very good beneficiaries. Why is it so hard to receive hospitality? Maybe we don’t like the feeling of being dependant on someone else. Maybe we can’t handle not being in charge and in control. When I invite someone into my home, the visitor is on my turf and thus I hold the power and influence over what is done and said. When I enter another person’s home I am the recipient of whatever my host imparts. Americans do not like the vulnerability that comes when they are on the receiving end of hospitality.

Competent missionaries know that they must accept the customs and practices of the native culture if they are to have an effective presence. Speaking the language, eating the food and wearing the clothes of the people is essential. These acts signal that the missionary has something to learn from those he or she has come to live with and serve to establish relationships of trust and respect. We need to see our neighborhoods the same way a missionary sees the mission field—a culture to be explored and engaged while giving up control and our preconceived notions of what it means to “bring the Gospel.” We must learn to be recipients in our own neighborhoods. In the end, maybe the most hospitable thing—the most Christ-like way to behave—is to receive what is being offered.

Resource: Asking Good Questions

The resource I presented this week focused on asking good questions. Many of us think that our job as Christians is to give advice, offer help and tell people how to be saved, when simply listening might be a better way to gain respect in the neighborhood. In fact, asking questions—and being ready to receive the words of those we live with—could be viewed as a form of hospitality.

Proverbs offers a wealth of advice on the skill of listening. Drawing on the image of a well, Proverbs 20:5 reminds, “The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.” When I see a person standing in front of me and open to dialogue I see a deep well. My job as a listener is to ask the kinds of questions that will draw out the depths of the person’s soul, just as a bucket thrown into a well draws out life-giving water. Each person I come in contact with is filled with stories of hope, despair, joy, and pain. The right questions can draw out the narrative of my neighbor.

Proverbs 18:13 advises that “To answer before listening—that is folly and shame.” Often times in a conversation we are not really listening. Particularly when a conflict is emerging or when we feel the need to defend ourselves, rather than hearing what the other person is saying we are quietly formulating what we are going to say next. The worst thing a person can be called in Proverbs is a fool; a sure way to attain this status is to talk more than listen, give hasty advice and be more concerned with telling others what to do than hearing what they are saying.

Asking questions builds trust. An old phrase I’ve often used with ministry teams is a bit trite, but sums up the importance of attending to the needs of others: People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. Of a similar nature, the instruction of Young Life’s pioneer Jim Rayburn to his staff and volunteers was, “You have to earn the right to be heard.” We earn the right to speak into a person’s life by listening with genuine warmth and authentic concern.

Asking good questions is not always easy. It’s important not to ask leading questions. These are the kinds of questions that imply an answer. For example, when I speak to youth groups about alcohol use I could easily ask, “You know drinking is a bad idea, right?” or, “You’re not going to drink anymore, correct?” There’s only one way to answer those questions and a teen would be stupid to respond counter to what I want them to. Unfortunately these types of leading questions are also used in evangelistic efforts. “You want to pray the prayer and receive Jesus into your heart, don’t you?” Saying something like this to a child or young teen is manipulative and borders on emotional abuse of power.

Good questions should be “open” rather than “closed.” Closed-ended questions require single word answers such as “yes” or “no.” Examples of closed questions one might ask a neighbor include “Do you like living in this neighborhood?” “Do you enjoy your job?” or “Are you married?” Rather than ask a closed-ended question like “How many kids do you have?” it would be better to use an open-ended question such as “What do you and your children like to do together?” This kind of question will help draw the deep water out of a soul. The questions above could all be restated as open questions: “What do you like or dislike most about this neighborhood?” “How does your job make you feel?” “How did you meet your wife?”

If we relate this discussion again to evangelism, we find that a really bad question to ask would be “If you were to die tonight do you know where you would go?” or “Do you know Jesus as your personal savior?” These are both closed questions. A much better question would be “What do you think happens when a person dies?” or still better, “If you could ask God one question, what would it be?” These questions have a much greater potential to spark authentic and caring conversation.

For a good summary of open vs. closed questions follow this link.

Our assignment for the coming week is to go into our neighborhoods, not trying to fix something or solve a problem, but to simply ask good questions and listen for responses. Caution: this can’t be done quickly. This takes time and effort. It requires walking off of our property and onto someone else’s. It means we must enter the world with eyes wide open ready to find God and join him when we do.