Occasio

Miroslav Volf at Fuller: World Religions - what are they & why do they matter?

This morning Miroslav Volf presented the first of two lectures for Fuller Theological Seminary's Payton Lectureship. His topic, a Christian focus on world religions, is being addressed in two parts: on Wednesday, “What are they and why do they matter?” and on Thursday, "How does globalization effect them?”

Volf notes that there have been two basic options for Christians when talking about world religions.

1. Relegate any discussion to a technical summary, objectively delineating the peculiarities of each faith, remaining unattached (though, he says this unbiased approach is not really possible calling it a “view from nowhere").
2. Provide a robust view from one's own faith perspective in an attempt to proselytize, or at least help non-Christians understand one's perspective.

Of course, Volf is concerned with each of these approaches and offers a third, sometimes controversial option. Volf proposes that we must examine our own religion in relation to other religions because all faiths, especially in the increasing globalization of society, are inextricably intertwined. The goal is to find commonalities as well as distinctions so that genuine conversation can take place.

Volf has taken on his own challenge, and identified six common features of all world religions. Defining these qualities is not an attempt to syncretize religions, but to find points of dialogue.

All major religions, reports Volf, have grown in the last 35 years. Followers of Christianity have risen in number from 1.2 to 2.1 billion. The world is becoming a more religious place, partly carried on the wings of globalism, and this growth is happening both in absolute and relative numbers. Desecularization is happening on a global scale. (Isn’t it interesting that American Christians are overwhelmingly preoccupied with the apparent “secularization” of our country, the exact opposite of what is happening globally.)

The character of world faiths: six common features (Volf)
Religions come about through axial transformation of ages/events/people and they...

1. Offer a two-worlds account of reality (Nietzsche), in which primacy goes to the transcendent over the mundane;
2. Address individuals as human beings, but also in larger transcultural communities;
3. Offer claims and frameworks for dealing with tough human problems;
4. Have goods beyond human flourishing - human beings can attain the good even through failure;
5. Create a distinct cultural system, transcending political and ethnic boarders;
6. Focus on the transformation of mundane realities.

• This results in kind of a quarrel with life: things aren't the way they are supposed to be. Religion provides a way to align the transcendent with the mundane. The transcendent shapes mundane. Ascetic and prophetic activity in biblical and Christian history function this way.

Volf concluded by pointing to his second lecture in which the focus would be on the “how to” of globalized faith, and then interacted with respondant Dr. Mark Labberton (Fuller’s president) and the audience.

Labberton asked, “How do we remain true to ourselves and yet be non-hostile to other faiths?” and, “What would be required of self-conscious aware Christians to engage with other faiths?"

I love Labberton’s pastoral nature. He is keenly aware that any discussion like this must result in practical advice and engagement of the church.

One outstanding point that I heard again and again this morning was that we—Christians and non-Christians alike—must understand the processes and effects of globalization better if we are ever to understand the followers of other world religions. In this new global community, it is impossible to remain theological/ideological isolationists.

As an extension of that thought, it occurs to me that one of the most helpful pieces of curriculum for American high school students might just be religious education. As students learn more about all of the major world religions, they would surely become better conversation partners, more globally aware and ready to engage those different than themselves.

The best witness Christians will have in the future church is not found through apologetics, but will likely come through compassionate dialogue, standing ready to share about the beauty of Christ and his work of the kingdom.

Pursuit of political power and the world's goods is the biggest contributor to the bigotry of world religions (including Christianity). -Volf

Miroslav Volf at Fuller: remembering rightly and justly

International theologian Miroslav Volf opened the Week of Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary tonight (Tuesday) with the topic "Remembering Rightly and Justly." It was a treat to meet with him in a small, informal context, as he interacted with the crowd for most of two hours.

Volf, a wiry, energetic, seasoned scholar, spoke of forgiveness and humility, all the while demonstrating his keen ability as both an orator and a compassionate listener.

He opened with an anecdote relating to the evening's topic. Illustrating the complexity of his cultural background and how that context shapes his own theology, he recounted what it was like growing up in Yugolsavia as a German/Slavic/Christian/Pentecostal/pacifist. That amazing conglomeration of cultural context put him, as a "white man," at the bottom rung of society in his country. To further illustrate the complexities of his interest in forgiveness, reconciliation, justice and ethnicity, he then noted his shift in status upon coming to America, where he is received as a prestigious Yale scholar and author--top of the rung!

This reminds me how much geography matters. Context is absolutely critical to the understanding of texts, whether those texts are biblical documents, works of art or people's lives.

Here are some of Volf's comments from the evening (many of which were originally tweets; follow me at @TimothyNeufeld).

What does it mean to remember rightly?

Victims have long memories. Perpetrators have short memories--they are quick to move on from the uncomfortable feelings.

Victims want to remember until there is justice.

Memory and forgiveness are intimately tied. You can't really forgive without remembering.

Every untruthful memory is an injurious memory, hurting the victim over again.

We never really know what we're doing when we forgive, that's what makes it forgiveness.

The command for the Hebrews was not, "Remember that you were slaves," but rather, "Remember that you were slaves AND that you were delivered."

Identity is shaped by oppression and liberation.

The goal of reconciliation is a community of love.

The heart of forgiveness is naming the injustice and not holding it against you,

Hell, a chamber of torture, does not resonate with memory, forgiveness, restoration and justice.

I know plenty of people who are saints whose stories will never be told. I know plenty of people who are made saints by virtue of their position and power whose stories are full of injustice.

Unforgiveness is not worthy of us as people who live in the fullness and new creation of Christ.

Forgiveness works with the past. It never predicts the future. That's why we must forgive again and again and again.

Forgiveness and punishment are not opposite; forgiveness and retribution are.

Truth is found as community brings victim and perpetrator together to write an account of that which is to be forgiven.

Our forgiveness of each other is a dark reflection, an echo, of God's forgiveness. When we forgive each other we participate in God's forgiveness. Ours is a shallow forgiveness compared to God. We will one day experience the fullness of our forgiveness in and through the consummation of God's forgiveness.

You grow into forgiveness after you have made your decision.

Inspiring. Challenging. Volf comes very close to saying that forgiveness is not just an important element of the gospel, but is essentially the entire gospel. It's certainly good news, especially considering our society's obsession with vindication and retribution.

In a post-9/11 world, we often hear the slogan, "Never forget," but this type of remembrance is usually enmeshed with other sentiments of hate, reprisal and revenge, all of which are counter to the Christian nature.

And that has me thinking about another theologian, albeit a reluctant one:

"You forgave, and I won't forget." -Marcus Mumford.

To evangelical leaders: "what is happening?"

Three key evangelical leaders appeared on Easter Sunday’s installment of the ABC news show “This Week.” Each had their own agenda and each seemed to miss the question that was being asked. 

 

When news anchor Martha Raddatz inquired about recent declines in church attendance, the conservative Christian leaders gave puzzling answers. Raddatz reported that in 1992, 70% of Americans attended a church or synagogue, while in 2013 that number dropped to 59%. Her follow-up question to her guests was, “What is happening?”

This would have been a great moment to talk about the need for new imagination, community engagement and cultural sensitivity. It was a chance to reflect on the failures of fallen church leaders and the irrelevance of modern church structures. Here was an opportunity to admit that the Spirit is up to something new and we don’t exactly know what that is yet, but what is needed is a humble posture of listening and learning as we head into this new frontier.

Predictably, none of that happened.

Franklin Graham, President and CEO of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, answered the “What is happening?” question with a confident and passionate call to repentance, using his opportunity to convert his television audience (and possibly his host), speaking repeatedly about God's message of love. He then reiterated his support of Putin’s decision to restrict and punish gay people in Russia.

Russell Moore, President of the Southern Baptist Convention’s Ethics and Religious Liberties Commission, also seemed to dodge the question, saying he wasn’t worried about the decline in church attendance. His response to what he calls “the collapse of a cultural form of nominal Christianity” is to assert that Evangelicalism is a “strange” movement and that’s the way he wants it. Hence, he is even more committed and will work hard to convince Americans that the conservative values they once had are still the best and most beneficial.

Ralph Reed, Chairman of the Faith and Freedom Coalition, assumes that evangelicals are all conservative Republicans and has redoubled efforts to increase participation of this group in the political process, especially through social media.

The answers these three evangelical leaders gave are strikingly similar, not in the actions that they prescribe, but in the philosophy that lies behind their responses. Graham calls for more conversions. Moore wants restored conservative values. Reed pushes for greater political participation. But all of them are basically saying, “We have to continue what we’re already doing, we just have to do it harder, louder and with more resources.” The answer to the question of declining church attendance is to reinvest in practices that worked for the last 200 years (and especially in a 1980s conservative political climate), redouble efforts, solicit larger contributions and gain greater cultural power and control.

This reminds me of the oft used quote attributed to Einstein: Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

The comment I was most surprised by during the ten-minute feature came from Cokie Roberts. She correctly identified research that confirms though church attendance is declining, belief in God is holding steady. Depending on which survey is cited, roughly 70% of all Americans claim a belief in God, and many of those pray and read their Bibles on a weekly basis. Roberts’ response to the original question is spot on: “It’s organized religion that they are having a problem with, it’s not belief.”

So true. And what evangelicals need to be asking themselves is not, “How can we continue to do what we’ve always done and do it better?” but rather, “Why have we become so estranged from people’s lives that they don’t find us helpful, relevant or authoritative anymore?”

Of course, if we seriously ask that question, we better be ready to discover stuff about our churches that we don’t want to hear. We should also be ready to learn about the deficiencies of our own gospel interpretation from those who are different than us. We’ll never get anywhere while we continue to listen solely to internal voices.

And all of that is very unlikely to happen when leaders are so confident and sure that their plan for church growth is the right one, the only one and the ordained one.

The Easter of story

Preachers, teachers and church leaders, take note: the power of story in the sermon can't be underestimated, especially when telling the beautiful, transformative narrative of Easter!

Those of us trained in theology and ministry craft sermons that are often nothing more than information dumps on our people. We love to show our congregations how well we're trained and convince them of our great theological prowess. We quote verses at convenient intervals and cite statistics with impressive precision, accenting each sub-point with an emotional anecdote from a recent bestselling book or blockbuster movie. We lay out our three-point propositional monologues skillfully and concisely.

But the Bible is a book of stories (true stories!) that deserves so much more than a studied apologetic defense, and there’s no better time to remember that than during this holy season. In the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus we have the grandest story ever told, yet we continually reduce it either to a mind-numbing distribution of facts on the one hand, or an overly dramatized, if not graphic, presentation bordering on emotional manipulation on the other.

Both approaches—highbrow intellectualization and emotional sensationalism—fall short of the beauty and truth of the real story.

The intellectual sermon that I have prepared for my people tomorrow is not their story

Pastor Wayne Reece recalls a time when he learned about the shortcomings of his own Easter sermon. Soon after being installed as the new pastor of a church in rural Texas, he found himself stranded in a motorcycle bar the night before Easter Sunday. There, while making friends with a group of bikers very unlike himself, he learned to think differently about the Jesus-story.

When Roy, one of the bikers, said that he didn’t really know anything about Easter, the young pastor was faced with a dilemma: “Do I give him the sermon that I had prepared, that was filled with illustrations from Paul Tillich’s The New Being? Or do I try to find new ways to tell the story—the old, old story—to the new ears of Roy?” It was then that Pastor Reece, along with his new friends, discovered both the simplicity and profundity of the Easter narrative.

Hours later, deep in the middle of the night, the pastor finally reached home and was reunited with his worried wife. But he wasn’t ready for bed. He told his wife, “I have got to rewrite my sermon, because the intellectual sermon that I have prepared for my people tomorrow is not their story.”

How will we tell the Easter story this year? Will it be a report of cold and calculated facts?  Will we make impassioned pleas for an emotional response? Or, will we tell a story that becomes the story of the people we minister to?

Of course, the only way to really tell a story of Jesus that relates to the stories of those in the pews is to get to know the people in our congregation. And that means living life alongside them, being co-workers and fellow participants on the journey toward Christ and the cross. Without that, we’ll probably be left again with very antiseptic and detached sermons this Easter. This year, let's discover Easter of the beautiful gospel story together.

Click this link to hear Pastor Wayne Reece tell about his wonderful encounter, and how it changed his perspective of Easter. It’s only ten minutes long and you’ll really enjoy the ending!

Why Stephen Colbert is the best (and possibly the worst choice for CBS)

Stephen Colbert has long been my first choice for late-night talk show hosts. And he’s definitely one of my favorite theologians. Seriously.

But now that he has accepted a contract to replace David Letterman on the “Late Show,” I fear that he may not be able to do or say some of the things he could on Comedy Central.

Here’s why I think Colbert is a brilliant theologian.

1. Colbert functions as a voice from within the religious community. He is not an outsider looking in. As a committed Catholic, he understands the doctrines and activities of his own tradition as well as those of other Protestant denominations. He’s a smart guy, well-read and knowledgeable about institutional Christianity. Unlike Bill Maher and Jon Stewart, who present a constant fare of irreverent and unauthoritative criticism, Colbert has earned the right to offer critique because he is one of us.

2. Colbert puts on a persona to deliver his theology. Irony is a powerful tool for helping people reflect on life, and as Colbert has proven, especially on religious life. He’s not the first to develop a satirical character to help convey religious meaning. Most famously, C.S. Lewis used this strategy in his Screwtape Letters, when he positioned the senior devil Screwtape as the mentor of the younger demon Wormwood. Bono did the same when he took on the role of MacPhisto on U2’s ZooTV tour in the mid-90s, often espousing the "virtues" of self-gratification, media saturation and overindulgence, all the while suffering the effects of his devilish alter-ego run amok. Even the Church Lady from Saturday Night Live effectively used irony to help us reflect on our theological inconsistencies. The gospel is irony and Colbert helps us see the irony of the gospel.

3. Using his ultra-conservative façade, Colbert appeals to a huge demographic. He finds an audience in both liberals and conservatives, especially in young adults. In a remarkable study and subsequent dissertation, Jill Dierberg concluded that Christian emerging adults of both right and left political leanings were challenged to think about the theology and application of their own faith through viewing The Colbert Report. This is quite an astounding conclusion, signaling the unique nature of Colbert’s ability to engage a broad religio-political audience. The study also confirmed the ability of a popular entertainer to use mainstream media—traditionally seen as the enemy of religion—to effectively promote theological reflection. 

4. The gospel is ironic in ways that we often can’t detect because we are too comfortable with our preconceived notions of what we think it's saying. That’s why irony works so well as a form of gospel communication. What are some of the theological themes that Colbert has consistently brought to the forefront? There are many, but here are a few that I’ve enjoyed.

a. Poverty and justice. Colbert has routinely called attention to issues of oppression, injustice and the poor, but always through his twisted ironic sensibilities.

“Jesus wants me to prosper,” Colbert retorts with his guest, Sister Simone Campbell. “It is Christmas time. Why do we have to talk about the poor? Keep it light. It’s a happy time of the year.” “Did Jesus choose to be poor? Yes. Then I believe that poor people choose to be poor.” (source)

b. Church. Colbert has demonstrated like no one else the absurdities of the churches that you and I attend. Again, not as an outsider, but as someone who attends church, he functions as a credible critic. When a church in Kentucky gave away guns as an incentive to attract men, Colbert provided some much needed commentary, suggesting a “Jesus-blowie-man” might be better than a banner.

“No other religion out there will be able to compete with a gun giveaway!” “But you know what else guys love other than steaks and guns? Guys love strippers and unlimited shrimp. I say just fill in the baptismal font with cocktail sauce, swap out that giant cross for a brass pole.” “But bottom line, you gotta bring them to Jesus by any means necessary, even if that means weapons. Remember, Jesus said 'all those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword.' And if churches give out enough weapons, we can bring a lot of people home to Jesus for good.” (source)

c. Jesus. Colbert’s seemingly untheological, over simplistic descriptions of Christ usually reveal something we’ve forgotten about him.

"Jesus was the ‘Original Hipster.’ After all, He was into Christianity way before it went mainstream. I don’t know how i didn’t see this sooner, folks! An unemployed 33-year-old, who homebrews His own water into wine and thinks He’s God’s Gift to Humanity? …And Jesus was as ironic as it gets. When everyone else went swimming, Jesus was like, ‘Nah, I’d rather go for a walk.’ Even His Death was ironic. ‘Sup, Romans? Yeah, I was dead for a while, but then I got bored. YOLO.'” (source)

d. American Christianity. In a rare moment of almost breaking character, Colbert offered this one Christmas.

“If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn’t help the poor, either we’ve got to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we’ve got to acknowledge that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition — and then admit that we just don’t want to do it.” (source)

Will Colbert be able to keep his unique blend of media, irony and theology? Probably not in the same way he has for the last nine years. It’s certain that he won’t retain his savvy, self-assured, far-right persona. The new Colbert will have a tough challenge ahead, but I’ll be glad to give him the opportunity. He’s the best. I hope he continues to be.

Colbert is dead. Long live Colbert!

Petra and Nirvana: the good and the bad?

Two things happened this weekend to remind me of how much I’ve changed in the last 20 years and how fluid faith and theology really are.

First, I was astonished to learn that it’s been 20 years since Kurt Cobain, lead singer of Nirvana, committed suicide (April 5, 1994). Soon after his death, I was up on a stage preaching to 600+ teens about the dangers of listening to Grunge, wearing black clothes and writing dark poetry. I warned against piercings, tattoos and Pearl Jam. I wasn’t all that committed to the Christian subculture, and I regularly listened to secular music, but I was pretty sure that something inherently evil was going on in Seattle.

The second thing that happened is related to the old Jesus Music collection I’ve recently taken out of storage. While I was listening to Petra’s Not of this World, a song titled “Lift Him Up” caught my attention. I was singing along while doing house chores and had to laugh when one set of lyrics came up repeatedly.

Lift Him up, higher and higher
Lift Him up, set the world on fire
It doesn't take much theology
Just lift Him up, so the world can see

Lift Him up, tell the gospel story
Lift Him up, let them see His glory
It doesn't take any Bible degree
Just lift Him up, so the world can see

So how do those two events signal a change in my own way of thinking about faith and culture?

The Cobain death was something I paid attention to at the time, but only with a desire to cast it as a dangerous omen for a gullible generation. That was a real shortcoming on my part. I remember one teen girl literally yelling at me after my anti-Cobain message, “Stop picking on Kurt!” Another young youth leader came to me with an anguished look on his face, trying to convince me that I was wrong about this new musical form of cultural expression. What I lacked 20 years ago was a sensitivity to what was happening in the lives of the very people to which I’d come to speak. I was almost completely inattentive to what they were actually saying.

If I had it to do again, I’d handle that situation differently. I’ve since learned to be a student of my students. I realize that they have much to teach me about their own perspectives of culture. I’m more inquisitive today, asking questions about the world around rather than summarily dismissing what I don’t understand. And now I know that even in the darkest corners of culture—where some would place Cobain—there are elements of truth and light. Nirvana called us to question our complacency, our sensibilities and our unrecognized prejudices. If I had a chance to preach to that same crowd again, I’d probably play “In Bloom” and then ask the kids how they’ve felt abandoned by a whole generation of adults. That could be a great introduction to the hero of our Christian story who was also abandoned as he challenged the notions of his day.

The Petra song is a different but related lesson. “It doesn't take much theology, Just lift Him up, so the world can see,” sang Greg X. Volz. He continued with, “It doesn't take any Bible degree, Just lift Him up, so the world can see.” That simplistic view of Christianity in the early 80s led me to my reductionist view of culture in the 90s. It was much easier to subscribe to a “just do what the Bible says” position than it was to engage in an honest investigation of Scripture. It was obvious to me: a good sermon told people what to do. The more certain of himself a pastor was, the more respect I had for that pastor. My theology was uncomplicated and comfortable.

But today, I’m pretty sure that theology is much more complex than I originally assumed while singing along with Petra. And it’s no surprise that exposure to other cultures is the single most important step in helping me understand this. As I ponder cultural engagement, I’m made aware of how difficult biblical interpretation is, as well as the narrowness of my own hermeneutical process. As I become a student of my students, I learn that the old adage is quite true: The more I know, the less I understand.

So, now in my fifth decade of life, I’m not as certain that one style of music is to be avoided and another is to be embraced. What appears to be unholy might carry a lot of truth, and what appears to be orthodox might actually have a fair amount of bad theology. It’s a bit tougher at times—sometimes quite unsettling!—but I’m a better Bible reader, teacher and preacher today because I’m not hesitant to struggle with and be honest about hard questions and difficult passages. I won’t get rid of my Petra albums (hey, “God Gave Rock n Roll to You”!), but I’m not afraid of listening to, or experiencing, something that makes me uncomfortable anymore.