Friday, August 20, 2010

church that's "real"

Christians can be as critical of church as anyone else, and the criticisms can be perplexing. What does it mean when they're searching for a church that's "real"? And how can a church accommodate this demand?
  • My first guess is that a qualification for "real" is that the church doesn't suffer from Christian "masks" of action or attitude. As I wrote before, the masks prevent Christians from working together to achieve comprehensive change in themselves, but overreactions against the masks are also dangerous. My basic point is that while "gritty" confession most definitely is part of the duties of a church, it shouldn't become an overwhelming focus nor should it necessarily be a component of the large-scale public service (i.e. the service intended for people of any level of commitment).
  • Another possibility is that "real" simply corresponds to a particular style of worship that happens to appeal to that person. Other styles, especially ones that are perceived as opposites, must be " 'fake' worship that puts on an ostentatious show." Clearly, in this case one worshiper's real is another's fake.
  • On a more solid basis, "real" could refer to the complaint that a church discusses Christianity but never accomplishes anything. It's eminently reasonable to expect people who have been reanimated through Christ to participate in the further reanimation of the spiritually-dead world and society. Love and truth are for sharing. Hoarded love and truth probably are counterfeit.
  • In a bizarre twist, for some critics "real" doesn't have any relation to a specific church at all. Instead, they appear to reject all churches of Christianity at once. These are the ones who might refuse to call themselves "Christian" for some reason, despite their belief in the same doctrines. They say that the name is itself too misleading to be a real reflection of their precious identity, reputation, and ego. "Christianity's not real, God is real. People in the 'modern' church are deluded and not encountering God. How can I tell? Because they attend church and call themselves Christian." (Of course, there's not much individual churches can do about them until they actually open themselves up to other believers.)
  • The ultimate accusation of a lack of "real"-ness is the dreaded state of being unauthentic, which is roughly defined as changing anything in order to reach and attract newcomers. Naturally, once a judgment of unauthentic is handed down, it's flatly impossible to escape it. A desperate attempt to stop being unauthentic merely earns a judgment of being unauthenticly authentic. Like the famous person who didn't want to be part of any club that would accept the likes of him, a search for a "real" church may consist of finding one that's highly unwelcoming (or considered welcoming purely by Christians with "refined holy taste"). Therefore "real" implies unpleasant, badly-presented, esoteric, exotic, etc., and any church too successful at evangelism could never pass as real!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Hebrews 10:26

If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, 
A few times online, I've read accusations either that someone is "too soft on sin" or "too stingy with grace". But as I've previously written, both complaints are too simplistic. Without a proper understanding of what sin is, pleas for grace and love are hollow and devolve into therapeutic self-esteem sessions. But without a proper understanding of grace and love (and supernatural empowerment), a clear view of sinfulness produces hopelessness and contempt for self and others.

Perhaps Christians should proclaim "today is the day of repentance" whenever they also proclaim "today is the day of salvation". The purpose of forgiveness is so that you can come back to God and stop separating yourself from Him by sinning.

To recap:

If you have no intent of living a holy life by faith, grace is "stingy" and not for you.

On the other hand, if you honestly and sincerely stop being "soft" on your sin, you have all the grace you require and more.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

simplicity and macroeconomics

Some Christians encourage greater distinction from the surrounding culture along the dimension of simplicity. As children of God who 1) rely on Him to meet our needs, 2) emphasize the importance of intangible things, 3) recognize just how relatively much we have compared to many of our brethren in other times and locations: it's fitting to live a simpler lifestyle with fewer material encumbrances.

Yet simplicity has another "side" on a macroeconomic level. For each transaction, there is a buyer and a seller, and the seller perhaps bought originally from other sellers and producers. The buyer who forgoes a transaction for the sake of simplicity denies that transaction to the would-be seller. That in turn implies that the seller cannot participate in the additional transactions with the other sellers and producers. And so forth, as the withdrawal of the economic transaction continues to "ripple". If sufficient numbers of buyers commit to simplicity simultaneously, the sellers and producers may end up unable to pay their basic expenses, which puts them out of work. So significant application of simplicity on a large scale entails shrinking the economy as a whole and raising unemployment; less participation by buyers results in less potential for participation by workers.

I don't think this means that we should completely stop the practice of simplicity. The point is that while we grow in simplicity, we should continue to expend the freed resources but in good causes. The better ones have transformational qualities that aim to help the disadvantaged "stand on their own feet" (whenever that's a possibility). This too has a macroeconomic justification. By enabling people to both consume and produce, even if at first "produce" is nothing more than a part-time service job, they can enhance the economy instead of being a drain on it, with an accompanying sense of self-worth. Actually, transferring mere consumption to such "human resource investment" might in the end be more effective at stimulating long-term economic growth (a better "multiplier").

Gradually, the shift in the habits of the Christian rich from frivolous to charitable would change the economy's very macroeconomic "structure". There'd be no market for certain items, and those people would be displaced into different industries. The financial world of brokers and investment bankers would likely shrink. Greater economic activity at the lower levels would change (narrow?) the range of products offered. The middle class would enlarge. Higher standards of living, that would continue to spring from the ongoing improvements in productivity, would manifest not in more pronounced gaps between rich and poor but in a "rising tide" benefiting all. 

To everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded. It's right there in the Book.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Joy is more than yelling woo

I once heard the leader of a worship service lecture about Joy. He said that Christians should be overcome with excitement. They should be happy. They should cheer. They should, if they are so inclined, express their Christian Joy by yelling "woo" at the designated point in the song (no, the song wasn't "A Mighty Fortress is our God").

I assume his goal was to encourage more tangible participation in the service. As the worship leader, he doubtless felt that enthusiastic response was a gauge of his effectiveness. Presumably, enticing worshipers into active exuberance has a greater chance of resulting in heartfelt identification with God and his message. People who do or feel something tend to learn better. And genuine ecstasy during worship is a proper reaction. I also don't dispute that fun is a marvelous way to reach people and that it has its place in worship. I believe in the sincerity of the worship leader's efforts to connect with his worshipers and connect them to God.

But my concept of Joy is more than yelling "woo". Joy isn't just feeling perky and grinning. At many times, joy doesn't imply happiness in the shallow sense. Joy is the emotive outpouring of the assurance of Faith. Joy is trust. Joy is the freedom of not worrying whether or not the "universe is on your side". Joy is not dependent on circumstances. Joy is keeping one's perspective tilted toward eternity. Joy is delight in divine perfection, something solid that's worthy of sacrifice. Joy is humble because Joy is full appreciation of grace. Joy isn't a cynical analysis of the evil all around. Joy is searching for good and then embracing it. Joy is recognizing daily blessings. Joy is the prerogative to retaliate against past mistakes and present difficulties by refusing to be a slave to either (consequences can't be ignored but also aren't the "last word"). Joy therefore enables holiness and growth. Joy is the expectation that one can and will attempt to please the God who pursued us first. Joy is the attitude that attracts the undevoted.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

the Enlightenment charge

Of trendy criticisms leveled at current (U.S. evangelical) churches, one of the more puzzling to me has been "The church's core beliefs were reinterpreted to better match the Enlightenment, and this is one of the many causes of its decreasing effectiveness". The adaptation of Christianity to the Enlightenment is supposedly characterized by an emphasis on constructing theoretical systems, reaching truth through abstract debate, and generally enshrining eternal propositions. For postmodernists of varying levels of devotion who're attempting to reconcile their philosophy to Christianity, those emphases are considered unhelpful at best and deceptive or distracting "mere social constructions" at worst.

My first issue with the Enlightenment charge is that it isn't accurate. A long time before then, the biblical concept of God had already been firmly established: a static, absolute, spiritual being whose very nature could be better comprehended through the reading of unchanging documents such as the Pentateuch. Of course, He was also a Personal God who spoke, acted, loved, disciplined, and so forth, but never in ways that contradicted those known attributes. Perfection doesn't evolve so neither does the "I AM THAT I AM". His unpredictability and ineffability are not due to "dynamic divine development" but to the straightforward logical fact that finite creatures (us) are unable to capture or summarize infinity completely. While we have faith that He is Good, it's impossible for us to reliably calculate which specific good thing He will do next. Christians used reason to broaden their picture of God before everyone else began to experience the Enlightenment, and in its function of preserving the (Roman) past, the church was at least partially responsible for the Enlightenment.

Secondly, I'm not convinced that the postmodern Christianity I've read about is any less derivative of the Enlightenment. A postmodern Christian will enthusiastically claim that God isn't a figure in a piece of literature or a precept in a doctrinal statement. Rather, He is alive and willing to participate in an intimate relationship. Anyone who seeks Him earnestly will find Him. "Intellectual hair-splitting" cannot analyze Him for He can only be known by what He does. One mustn't think about Him and instead breathe Him in, more or less.

When I ponder the methodology in the preceding paragraph, the resemblance to a particular philosophical position is uncanny: empiricism, which I could informally state as "Nothing can be known except what we directly experience or can relate to direct experience. Therefore the definition of anything can mean nothing more than a person's experiences of that thing." A postmodern God is thus an empirical God. If we can't ascertain any truths about God except through experience, then He must be defined as experience and nothing else.

Hence the postmodern Christian is an empiricist. However, empiricism's resurgence began with the reintroduction of systematic science...the Enlightenment! Before then, "empirical Christianity" would've been virtually nonexistent even as a possibility. At that time the church's hierarchy declared what God is like, what the duties of each Christian must be, how to apply the Bible, etc. The sentiment of "Stop talking to me about your faith in god and just prove it to me!" is quite foreign before the Enlightenment. One learned through the cunning arguments said by the wise, and so long as the explanation seemed plausible nobody demanded vulgar illustrations of it in the dirtiness of everyday life. The model of belief advocated by the postmodern Christian is itself symptomatic of the Enlightenment.

Still, regardless of debates about history and philosophy and "where the church first went wrong", I gladly join with the postmodern Christian in exhorting (although he or she probably would select a different word than "exhort") my fellow believers to exercise their beliefs in good deeds. We use the same Bible, which compares an inactive listener to a house built on sand. Unlike my counterpart I think that one can certainly say true things about God, but in any case the epistle of James instructs us both that an unexpressed faith is a dead faith.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

a God by any other name

I recently read a curious interview online. The gist was someone claiming that the typical understanding/interpretation/explanation of salvation is out of sync with modern times and not well-supported by the Bible on close examination. To the contrary, he stipulated that salvation isn't primarily about sin or defining who is accepted by God but rather about participating in the ongoing redemption of creation at large. He also specifically mentioned that the usual way of framing the concept of salvation is too exclusionary and narrow for a pluralistic society of people whose expressions about good and evil only differ superficially; underneath, everybody who loves his or her neighbor believes the same broad ideas. In any case a God who demands human sacrifice for unholiness is too vengeful to be consistent with the suffering, victimized Christ who identified with the downtrodden.

I almost don't know where to begin dissecting the viewpoint of Christianity in the preceding paragraph.
  • In point of fact it isn't as revolutionary or new as some would say. Theologically liberal and culturally-muted sects of Christianity have been around just as long as any other part of the Christian movement. Some Christians always have been hesitant to accept the details at "face value" and opted to mix and match the "general outline" (i.e. the bits they like) of the faith with a variety of external notions.
  • I've written before about cultural accommodation through appeasement - the practice of deemphasizing or totally removing culturally-foreign ideas, like truth and sin and hell and blood, until the remainder isn't Christianity in any practical sense. In this case one of the rejected ideas appears to be God Himself, or more specifically the God who quite explicitly in the Bible is exacting in both His moral laws and the highly-serious methods by which guilt is remedied and the divine relationship restored. It may be true that too many Christians are too focused on that aspect of Him, but that's still distinct from veering to the opposite extreme of pretending it isn't there.
  • At another time I wrote about how nonsensical it becomes when someone tries to say that nobody's spiritual beliefs are ever wrong. My point is that if the spiritual realm is real, then what we have are real disagreements about real things. If your one true god is an impersonal unity of the universe then my God cannot also be your god because we're describing contradictory beings. If you believe in multiple gods of roughly equal "rank" then how silly is it to suppose that my God consists of the same divine Presence as all of yours? (Yeah, yeah, Christianity has a Trinity, but Jesus also said "the Father and I are one".) Maybe one's motivation for reducing all religions to one unified supernatural path is the worry that when there are too many religions someone can't rationally believe in one of them. I offered some thoughts on that in the post linked in the previous sentence.
  • At yet other times, I addressed the question of words failing to express all of God, as well as some straightforward reasons for why there's no such thing as Christianity without doctrine. It's certainly a truism that words and doctrinal statements and formal pronouncements aren't the entirety of Christianity, and right actions and motivations matter. But it's still overreaching to conclude either words are useless or your thoughts are pointless. Sure, we have contact with a resurrected God and we are called to imitate Him and cause others to imitate Him. How shall we do that without describing Him or studying His words?
  • Lastly, a serious obstacle to a radical reinterpretation of salvation is the manner that Jesus lived and died. Assume not that He came to atone and assure a blissful afterlife, and instead He came solely to be an in-the-flesh example and teacher of a better human lifestyle that heals and loves not damages and hates. Why didn't He start His ministry sooner? Why didn't He do as His followers advised and "lay low" somewhere away from Jerusalem, where He could train disciples without interference? Why did He talk so literally about His blood and body at Supper?

drop the superciliousness

This is more of a personal preference or opinion of mine than a reasoned-out argument, but I believe that Christians of all people shouldn't be supercilious toward any object: people, things, or ideas. We shouldn't search eagerly for reasons to either denigrate or self-congratulate. For God's sake, our inclination will be to find and appreciate any goodness we encounter. Why?
  • Superciliousness can accompany and perhaps partially cause overall negativity or despair. It's not beneficial long-term to the human spirit, and its short-term rewards are illusory and beggarly.
  • I've read that the ground at the cross is "level", which is a pithy way to remind ourselves that the Bible portrays a God who isn't impressed by what we do; indeed, we're sinners steeped in evil at birth. The powerful and privileged don't have special passes to heaven. Rich folk aren't God's favorites. Fashionable and popular people might not be regarded well by Him. Christians are deceived and distracted by the sinful world's patterns whenever they expend time and effort into measuring humanity's worth by such scales. (On the other hand, some commentators go overboard on this topic of social inequity. Since the ground is level it's also incorrect to assume that all who are poor must be innocent victims and all who are prosperous must be crooks!)
  • At the same time that Christians recognize the dirty-rotten-sinner in everyone, they also know that God loves them. If Christians claim to emulate His example then they'll love them too. They'll rejoice in any speck of righteousness they discover in whom they meet. Although a fallen person's despicable actions deserve no acclaim, he or she is still included in the scope of love. Christians can neither exalt nor despise their fellow man, so they can't be supercilious.