Religion or Relationship?

 I've seen many memes and posts say that the Christian faith isn't about religion, but relationship. I must vehemently disagree. Jesus never spoke against religion. In fact, he fulfilled His religious obligations. Instead, He spoke against empty, legalistic "religion" - itself a vain corruption of the religion God desires.

But to understand the difference, I think it helps to define what religion is. Religion is the organized, corporate, creative response of the community to God's grace. It embraces the love of Christ by reflecting it into the lives of others, especially those in need; and it remembers and proclaims God's story of salvation and our part within it.

Healthy religion is ordained by the Father, empowered by the Holy Spirit, and illuminated by Christ's grace. I pray that all humanity embraces God's invitation to *both* religion *and* relationship with Him.

As the Apostle James once said, "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world," (Jas. 1:27).

#Religion #Faith #Christianity #Jesus #Relationship

A Part of Something Greater, Part III: Defending Nazarene Apostolic Succession

Introduction

This is part of an on-going series which began as a reflection on my own ordination to the order of Elder in the Church of the Nazarene, and quickly expanded into an articulation and defense of apostolic succession and the ordination of women, and why I think it is important for Evangelical Christians to understand their biblical basis, especially as ecclesiology often gets put on the back-burner in American Evangelicalism (1). Though many Evangelicals may contend that their affirmation of the central Christian beliefs and the expression of their individual faith is enough for obedient discipleship; I would argue this isn’t the case (2). While Jesus definitely came so that we may all be saved as individuals redeemed and restored to His Image; he also desired that we would all be one, as Jesus and the Father are one (3). It is this unity in Christ, exemplified by love for one another that would show the World that we are truly His disciples (4).

So, for the sake of unity, one of the ultimate goals of this series is to not only develop a reasonable and scripturally sound ecclesiology for Evangelicals, which includes apostolic succession and the ordination of women; but also to defend the legitimacy of that succession and our ordinations to other communions who make up the majority of the Christian Faith. These include the Catholic Church, the Eastern Orthodox Church, the Oriental Orthodox Church, the Assyrian Church of the East and the Ancient Church of the East. Each of these groups affirms the doctrine of apostolic succession and its relevance to ordination and the legitimacy of sacraments, and each declares Protestant apostolic succession (and therefore our ordinations and sacraments) to be invalid.

Their contention that our apostolic succession is invalid is based on two arguments: 1) that we have left the orthodox faith as (variously) held by their individual communions, and so do not have apostolic authority; or 2) that our ordinations, as being traced through the Anglican Communion, are invalid since Anglican ordinations lost their apostolicity after their form and intent were changed during the Edwardian Reforms following the English Reformation (5). In the piece below, I will demonstrate that the Church of the Nazarene retains apostolic authority both in its orthodoxy (right teaching) and in the form and intent of its ordinations.

Orthodoxy in Apostolic Succession

As members of the Church of the Nazarene, we hold that everything necessary to our salvation is inerrantly contained within scripture (6). This includes the central doctrines of the faith, namely those expressed in the only creed universally agreed upon by bishops from the entire Church in ecumenical council, namely the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed of 381. The early fathers, called the creeds “symbolum” as in “Symbolum Nicaenum” and “Symbolum Apostolicum” or “symbolon” in Greek. The original meaning of the term meant “watchword” or “badge of identification” and identified the bearer as belonging to a particular community, in this case orthodox Christianity (7). All those who affirm the Creed are orthodox Christians, those who don’t, aren’t. That the creed itself is the definition of the apostolic faith was affirmed by Canon 1 of the Ecumenical Council of Constantinople in 381 and in Canon 7 of the Council of Ephesus (8).

This means that, if one uses the Creed alone as the symbol (in the ancient sense of the word) of orthodoxy, then the vast majority of Trinitarian Christians are in fact orthodox in their belief. This would include most Protestants, the Proto-Protestant Churches, the Anglican Communion, the Catholic Church, the Eastern Orthodox Church, the Oriental Orthodox Church, the Assyrian Church of the East, and the Ancient Church of the East. If orthodoxy is a condition for apostolicity, then each of those churches has it.

Now the Catholic Church, Eastern Orthodox Church, and Oriental Orthodox Church would all disagree with the above statements, as they all hold Ecumenical Councils beyond the first two to be authoritative and necessary for true orthodoxy (9). But it is this effort to define orthodox doctrine beyond scripture and the central Creed of the Church which simultaneously ushered in the first schism of the Church, and caused the visible institutions of the various churches to lose their catholicity and unity, two of the four marks of the Great Pre-Schism Church. The Creed which was defined at Nicaea and clarified at Constantinople was again affirmed at the Council of Ephesus in Canon 7 (10). But while the Fathers of Ephesus sought to clarify the christological understanding of the Church, they anathematized a portion of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church despite the fact that it held to orthodox christology and to the Creed mentioned above. That their christology was in fact orthodox has since been confirmed by joint declaration between the Catholic Church and the Assyrian Church of the East (11).

This effectively created two visible institutions within the Church: the Great Church and the Churches of the East, which were not in full communion with each other but which were both fully orthodox and who both preserved apostolic succession. Because of this disunity, all subsequent councils lacked true ecumenical character, as a certain number of orthodox bishops in true apostolic succession were barred from participating, and their sees were ignored and invaded by bishops from the other communions, in contravention of Canon 16 of the Council of Nicaea (12). More schisms have followed among bodies who all hold to the Creed and who also preserve apostolic succession, but which lack catholicity and unity and so cannot unilaterally anathematize or formulate doctrine as a means of denying the legitimacy of the other denominations within the Church. No denomination in existence today has the authority to deny the orders, sacraments, or ministry of any other denomination which holds to the central creed of the Church and preserves apostolic succession.

The only guides for deciding orthodoxy remain scripture and the Canons of the first two Ecumenical Councils, including the Creed which they formulated. Subsequent Councils may indeed be helpful and espouse solid theology, but they are effectively local synods with jurisdiction over their own denominations only. I, for instance, affirm the theology expressed in the Canons of Ephesus and the Definition of Chalcedon. But I deny that their councils are truly ecumenical in the way the first two are.

This means that those who would argue the Church of the Nazarene lacks apostolicity because we are “unorthodox” are simply wrong. We still hold to the only Symbol of orthodoxy which the Ecumenical Councils have affirmed, and as long as we preserve the apostolic succession with which we’ve been entrusted, no other denomination has the right or jurisdiction to take that away from us. And as long as the ancient schisms continue to mar the unity of the Churches, this will not change.

The Form and Intent Behind Ordination

Having addressed the first common argument against our apostolic succession from orthodoxy, we now move to the second: namely that our ordinations lack the form and intent present within the ordinations of the apostolic churches. This is an argument most often advanced by Catholics, who point to a papal bull issued by Pope Leo XIII in 1896 which declared that the Edwardine rite instituted by the Church of England “completely null and void,” as they supposedly changed the form of the ordination sufficiently to communicate an intent that was different from that which the apostles intended (13). Since the Church of the Nazarene traces its superintendents back through the Church of England, they contend that our apostolic succession was invalidated at the institution of the Edwardian reforms in 1552, when explicit reference to the Eucharist as a sacrifice and to the priesthood as a sacrificing priesthood was omitted (14). This meant that those ordained according to the Catholic rite prior to the Edwardian reforms, but after the schism in 1534, were still validly (though illicitly) ordained.

That schism does not ipso facto invalidate orders is supported by Canon 8 of the Council of Nicaea which made provision for the reception of Novatians who returned to full communion with the Church, and which recognized the ordinations which they performed while in schism (15). The papal bull referenced above recognizes this, and so affirmed that the bishops who separated from the Catholic Church with the Church of England remained bishops with the authority to ordain, even though they were in a state of schism.

The contention that the Edwardian rite changed the form as a reflection of the intention of Thomas Cranmer and others to deny the sacrificial role of the priest or the nature of the Eucharist as a sacrifice is possible, but is not conferred by the words themselves, as they do not expressly deny the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist. Rather, the omission simply serves to allow for freedom of conscience when interpreting scripture with reference to the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist, while still affirming its sacramental character as a means of grace. That the Eucharist is a sacrament and means of grace in which Christ is really present is still affirmed in the words of ordination and the doctrines of the Church of the Nazarene today (16).

That the intention of Nazarene ordination is to give the ordained Elder the full apostolic authority to administer the sacraments and lead the Church is evident in the words which were used at my ordination (17) and in the doctrine we hold regarding scripture, that it contains “all things necessary to our salvation, so that whatever is not contained therein is not to be enjoined as an article of faith,” (18). This means the primary intention of ordination (whether Nazarene or by one of our Methodist or Anglican predecessors) is and has always been to transmit the fullness of apostolic authority and all it entails.

If scripture supports the contention that the Eucharist is a sacrifice (or more accurately is the participation of the Church in the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross), then the fullness of the Eucharist is inferred by our ordination. If scripture does not support the contention, then it is not and need not be inferred in the ordination. The form and intention behind the rite of ordination used in the Church allows for both interpretations inclusively as the Eucharist is positively defined as a means of grace by which Christ is truly present and does not negatively preclude a sacrificial understanding of the Eucharist or the priesthood (whether ministerial or corporate). And since the form communicates the intention of both the ordaining authority and the recipient of ordination to transmit full apostolic authority, that authority is exactly what is transmitted, since we know we can trace our apostolic succession back to the apostles themselves (19).

That the papal bull of Leo XIII is not as definite as it may initially seem for Roman Catholics is evident by the fact that the eight member commission tasked by Leo XIII to investigate the validity of Anglican Orders was split evenly, 4-to-4 on the question of whether or not Anglican orders were valid, and subsequent investigation by the US Council of Catholic Bishops suggests that a re-appraisal by the Catholic Church of Anglican orders is necessary, given a better knowledge of the tumultuous events and theological positions of the English and Roman bishops during the 16th century (20). In the same document, the USCCB cites the encyclical Sæpius Officio, a letter written by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York to all the bishops of Christendom. This encyclical both affirmed the Anglican teaching of the Eucharistic sacrifice and pointed out that the precise terms required by Leo XIII were missing from the earliest Roman ordinals which had been used to consecrate bishops and ordain priests which the Catholic Church naturally considered valid, as they were instrumental to the Catholic Church’s own claim to apostolic succession (21). That the Anglican understanding of the Eucharist includes both a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving on the part of the recipient, and the joining of the recipient to Christ in His one sacrifice on the Cross on our behalf, as well as the reality that the bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ, are all affirmed by both the Catholic Church and the Anglican Communion (22). It goes to follow then, that Methodists and Nazarenes, as heirs of Anglican sacramental theology, affirm this understanding as well.

Conclusion

All of the above evidence demonstrates that the declaration of Anglican orders (and therefore Nazarene orders) as null and void by Pope Leo XIII is likely mistaken in both its estimation of the intent behind the Edwardian reforms and in the forms required for ordination. The deep irony of this is that the standard by which the Pope would require the Anglican Communion to conform would invalidate his very own ordination! Additionally, given the state of schism between multiple denominations in which the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church exists; no single denomination, or pope, or even council has the authority contend the orders of other communions are valid or invalid, beyond what was already decided by scripture and the first two ecumenical councils which were decided when the visible institution of the Church still retained the fullness of the first two marks of the Church: Unity and Catholicity. Until the Church repairs its schisms and decides by Ecumenical Council otherwise, the apostolic succession (and therefore the orders, sacraments, and ministry) of the Church of the Nazarene remains valid, intact, and equal to that of any other Church.

Sources

(1) Hyde, Ian. “A Part of Something Greater, Part I: Apostolic Succession” Written Jun. 21, 2018. (Link); and Hyde, Ian. “A Part of Something Greater, Part II: Women’s Ordination.” Written Oct. 22, 2018 (Link).
(2) Though I fully affirm the Protestant doctrine of Sola Fide, which says it is by grace through faith, and not works, that we are saved (Eph. 2:8-9); what I am talking about here is the obedient Christian walk, which requires community. Though faith saves, if a person refuses to walk with other believers as Christ commands, then do they really have faith in Him?

(3) Jn. 17:21.

(4) Jn. 13:35.

(5) Smith, S. “Anglican Orders.” In The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1907. Web. Retrieved November 15, 2018.

(6) Para. 4. Manual, 2017-2021. Church of the Nazarene. Web. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(7) σύμβολον , τό. Henry George Liddell. Robert Scott. A Greek-English Lexicon. revised and augmented throughout by. Sir Henry Stuart Jones. with the assistance of. Roderick McKenzie. Oxford. Clarendon Press. 1940.

(8) “The Canons of the Council of Constantinople (381),” and “The Canons of the Council of Ephesus (431),” at Early Church Texts. Web. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(9) The Oriental Orthodox Church affirms the first three ecumenical councils. The Eastern Orthodox Church the first seven, and the Catholic Church claims twenty-one ecumenical councils through the ages.

(10) “The Canons of the Council of Ephesus (431),” at Early Church Texts. Web. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(11) Pope John Paul II and Mar Dinkha IV. “Common Christological Declaration Between the Catholic Church and the Assyrian Church of the East.” Signed Nov. 11, 1994. Vatican Website. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(12) “The Canons of the Council of Nicaea (325),” at Early Church Texts. Web. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(13) Pope Leo XIII. “Apostolicae Curae.” Written Sep. 13, 1896. On EWTN Website. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(14) United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. “Anglican Orders: A Report on the Evolving Context for their Evaluation in the Roman Catholic Church.” Web. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(15) “The Canons of the Council of Nicaea (325).

(16) cf. Hyde, “A Part of Something Greater, Part I”, as well as COTN Manual, Para. 13, 515.4, 700.
(17) Ibid.

(18) Para. 4. Manual, 2017-2021. COTN. Web. Retrieved Nov. 16, 2018.

(19) For a full list of all the names in my line of apostolic succession, see Hyde, “A Part of Something Greater, Part I.”

(20) USCCB. “Anglican Orders: A Report.”

(21) Ibid.
(22) (22) Anglican-Roman Catholic Dialogue in the United States. “Five Affirmations of the Eucharist as Sacrifice.” Published Jan. 06, 1994. Web.

*Edited to clarify first paragraph and correct footnotes.

#Apostles #Ordination #ApostolicSuccession #Nazarene #ChurchOfTheNazarene #Catholic #Orthodox #Anglican

Recommendations for Discussing Religion with Atheists

We've all seen internet comment sections get out of hand. I'm sure too many of us, if we looked at our own responses carefully and honestly, would admit that we have occasionally said something hurtful, not because it was right, but because we just wanted to win the argument or because we felt insulted by something the other party said.

But as more and more opinions are shaped, challenged, or reinforced through discussion online; the way we respond becomes just as important as the arguments we use. In fact, I would argue it becomes more important, as it is indicative of how we view people who disagree with us. If we cannot love those who disagree with us, then we certainly won't be able to love those who hate us, and our responses become antithetical to the gospel, even while trying to prove its veracity.

I’ve always found that the best way to have a discussion about God, or any other religious, philosophical, or even aesthetic idea with someone who differs in opinion from you, is to approach them with as much grace as possible.

Always assume the best in their intentions, and try to actively engage in a way that values listening as much as talking. It’s a little bit like taking marriage counseling. Instead of just waiting for them to quit speaking so that you get your turn, truly listen to them. Weigh what they say. Ask yourself, if you were in their shoes, with their reasons, and their experiences, would you feel the same way?

So let’s imagine I am having a discussion with an atheist. We likely have very different opinions about God, seeing as I am a devoted Christian. So when I write a response, I don’t think, “Man, I’m gonna trip his logic up good!” Instead I think, “Are there ways that he can legitimately challenge me to think more deeply about my faith?” “Am I willing to be honest with myself about the hard questions?” “Is there a way I can provide him with thought-provoking answers that helps him think about things from an angle he’s never considered?” “How can we both grow through this experience?”

I’ve found having this attitude generally leads to much more fruitful and edifying conversations for all parties involved. :)

As to practical matters of discussion, I try to keep this Dietrich Bonhoeffer quote in mind, “How wrong it is to use God as a stop-gap for the incompleteness of our knowledge. If in fact the frontiers of knowledge are being pushed further and further back (and that is bound to be the case), then God is being pushed back with them, and is therefore continually in retreat. We are to find God in what we know, not in what we don't know.”

This means that when we discuss God with someone who doesn’t believe, our reasoning should avoid arguments of infinite regression or appeals to a god of the gaps at all cost. There are good, objective reasons for thinking God exists based on the available scientific evidence (though I would argue that “evidence” and “reason” is quite different from “proof”).

For instance, the modal ontological argument at least demonstrates that God’s existence is logical and plausible; the double-slit experiment and the “Schrodinger’s Cat” though experiment both demonstrate that consciousness plays a defining role in structuring our physical reality (and when it is understood that we are in the same box as Schrodinger’s Cat, an Outside Observer to the Cosmos becomes a necessity. And I would argue that the dual process theory of the mind provides evidence that the very basis of that consciousness which plays an integral role in structuring the physical universe is at its most basic level (the so-called “system 1” or “unconscious mind) also geared toward finding patterns in our environment, distinguishing life from non-life, and providing a foundational belief in transcendent Deity.

All of these, when taken together argue (but do not prove) that God’s existence, and our foundational experience of religious belief, are both rational and even probable. Deciding to live one’s life on such a religious foundation then becomes what we call “faith.” Faith after all is not belief in spite of evidence, but rather relational trust based on the evidence that God exists and cares for us.

#atheism #faith #christianity #discussion

The Problem of Evil and Epicurus' Trilemma

I've been musing over the problem of evil and that popular maxim put forward by Epicurus, 2300 years ago, as an argument against an all-knowing (omniscience), all-powerful (omnipotent), and all loving God. The argument is still popular today among many of my atheist friends (even being referenced in the movie Superman vs. Batman), so I thought it worthwhile addressing.

First, in case you are unfamiliar with the argument, Epicurus basically posited that if God is willing to prevent evil, but not able, He is not omnipotent. If He is able, but not willing, He is not all good. If He both able and willing, evil should not exist. If He is neither able nor willing, then He is not God.

The problem with the Epicurean trilemma (leaving aside the fact it is first quoted in the writings of a Christian theologian arguing against it, and was possibly never uttered by Epicurus) is that it rests on a few (unproven) assumptions: 1) the future is something which can be known, 2) omniscience is properly defined as knowing the future, and 3) evil can be objectively defined.

The reason this is a problem is that, if the future is something which can be known ahead of time (either because it is predetermined, or "exists" in the mind of its Creator), then free will does not exist. If free will does not exist, no action can be good or evil. A predetermined universe negates the initial premise of the argument.

However, it seems that quantum mechanics shows us "the future" is probabilistic in nature, rather than deterministic. This means it is essentially uncreated. While an omniscient God can know all the possible futures, there is no way a single future could be known ahead of time. A thing can only be known if it exists; so it follows that if the future does not exist, it cannot be known. In this case, a probabilistic universe negates the argument's definition of omniscience.

Finally, if evil can be objectively defined (especially as something within the created order), this suggests a moral reality beyond human social contract, which can only apply to functionally free beings in a probabilistic universe. Since humans are (said to be) free beings, then the burden of evil rests entirely on them.

But if there is no God, then there can be no moral reality beyond transitory human social contract. And again, the burden of breaking any such contract (defined as an act of evil) would rest only on its constituent parties, i.e. human beings. In either case, human beings are to blame for evil's existence, rather than God (whether or not God exists).

It seems to me that the God of Christianity (the faith with which I am most familiar) is generally described as creating humanity to reflect God's "Image", i.e. to be free beings which possess the ability to make moral decisions, to live in community (with God, fellow humans, and creation), and to create or destroy.

But the existence of free beings carries with it the implicit risk of evil, broken relationship, and immoral decisions. If Christianity's claims are correct, then the best explanation for the existence of evil is that God loves humanity so deeply, He figured it was worth the risk that we would dork everything up.

#philosophy #God #atheism #Christianity #theodicy #Epicurus #evil

Six Challenging Questions Regarding God's Ethics

Below are my responses to six challenging questions by an atheist friend regarding God's ethical behavior in the Bible. These are questions I've struggled with deeply myself, so I definitely identify with those who question the often harsh or seemingly unfair behavior of a God who's supposed to be good and leading us toward a perfect relationship with Him, each other, and creation.

1) Would you drown everyone except 8 people and a boatload of animals?

I think this story is a great example of the use of myth to convey truth. Especially in Genesis, but also throughout the Torah, there are many places where the text incorporates myths from other cultures and usually gives structural clues in the Hebrew as to the nature of the myth. An example of the parallelism within this story is found in the opening verses. In v. 5 “God saw [Heb. wayyar'], v. 6 “the LORD was grieved [Heb. wayyinahem]... his heart was filled with pain [Heb. wayyitasseb]” and on and on. Hebrew parallelism is regularly used both in mythic and poetic genres and suggests a carefully crafted structure, not just a historical account. This is a myth, and while there have been local destructive floods throughout history, Noah's flood almost certainly didn't happen literally.

When this story was included in the Torah, the Jews were in the midst of the Babylonian exile and though they knew the special character of their God, they wanted a way to viscerally convey this character to their people, so they used stories which were familiar, i.e. the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh (for the flood), the Atrahasis Epic and the Enuma Elish (for creation), and Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta (the Tower of Babel). Other sources may have been used as well, but these may have been lost. But what is most interesting is not the parallels with these other myths, but what is unique to the Hebrew myths. In the Assyrian, Babylonian, and Sumerian stories, the gods are pissed that humans are too noisy. We just party too hard, baby. So they want to kill us. Then when they realize they'll starve without our worship, they praise one of the gods who sneakily saved Utnapishtim (Noah). The Hebrew God on the other hand, cares about social justice and the violence that spreads through the earth. In fact, the Hebrew contrasts in the language with humanity's violence and the goodness of creation suggests that the violence was so bad, all humanity would have slaughtered each other completely. This means that by saving 8, God saved 8 more than would have survived without intervention.

This story's placement within the book of Genesis also serves an important theological purpose. It is the culmination of the acts of Adam and Eve, which first brought rebellion and deception into the world and out of that, the first acts of violence. This is foreshadowed in the skins with which they are covered, and carried on in the story of Cain and Abel, which in narrative structure (especially in Cain's dialogue with God) mirrors almost exactly the exchange between the first couple and God. Destruction was the inevitable path humanity was already on. I find it very interesting today, that in the face of climate change, we find ourselves in the same place again (only this time our violence is toward the earth and not just toward each other). If humanity cannot change its ways, it may very well destroy itself. I think that is the ultimate point of this story.

It is important to note as well that the Jews reading the Torah during the Babylonian exile would have immediately recognized these stories as myths (both because they were already familiar with the Babylonian myths and because of the Hebraic structural clues); yet even as myths they communicate essential truths about God and humanity: that we have the potential to utterly destroy ourselves, and that God cares about social justice and wants to show mercy to those who will reject the path of violence.

2) Would you consider women as property?

In the ANE (Ancient Near East) all the way through Greco-Roman times, women were indeed seen as property, either the property of the clan itself (whose authority was recognized either in the elder males, or a patriarch) or the property of the pater familias (head of household). These authorities generally had the power of life and death over the men and women under their control. It was through this cultural lens the original audiences (and even authors) of the biblical texts saw their relationships to each other and to their God (or gods). But what is very interesting about even the Old Testament is that, despite many brutal passages read in today's Western cultural light, there are some pretty huge changes to the status of women and all vulnerable classes (including widows, orphans, the poor, and migrants/immigrants) taking place in scripture.

This change begins with the creation myths at the beginning in Genesis (two are found here, as well as another six uses of creation imagery in the Psalms). In the opening verses, men and women are created equally (Gen. 1:27-28). Even in the second story (ch. 2-3), when Eve is taken from the rib of Adam, their relationship is like that of a river. The mouth of the river might be its “head” or its source, yet no part of the river is more important than another. It is all river. Inequality is first mentioned after humanity has sinned, and is described as a consequence of our sin (Gen. 3:16). In this context, all human inequality is the direct result of human sin and is not part of the original created order.

From this point forward, any law code, or instruction, or even mythic (or possibly historic for some) story must be read in the context of human-created inequality. So, in this context, let's say God decides to begin speaking into history and changing things. I think God began to do this gradually, because an outright revolution of thought would have been utterly rejected (as I've stated elsewhere, I think God's relationship with humanity is not deterministic, but a give-and-take, and we have a say in it). The Torah laws represent a compromise, and an understanding that God is not done interacting with (and changing) the nature of our relationship.

Even the more brutal laws are a vast improvement in terms of social justice when compared with either ANE cultural practice or other written law codes (such as Hammurabai's). Where in other cultures, slaves were held for life against their will, in the Torah they are set free the seventh year, and all debts forgiven after seven sets of seven years (the 50^th year of the debt), meaning a debt could not be passed to children or over the estate (as the land was held in trust for descendants forever). The concept of the Jubilee year is remarkably more progressive than even today's debt laws. And where in the ANE, if a slave did a crime they were given a harsher punishment then a rich person, in the Torah all are punished for crimes equally (though harshly). Additionally, where women leaders were unheard of in much of that world, some of the oldest sections of the Torah include the stories (and song) of Deborah, a female judge who leads an army and prophecies to the people (Jg. 4-5), as well as women who kill kings (Jg. 4:21; 9:53) and who decide the destinies of princes (cf. Rebekah, Jacob & Esau). It's certainly not a perfect image of women, but if the Torah were all humanity needed to move into perfect relationship with each other, with creation, and with God; then Christ would not have come (this point is what much of my theology hinges on).

Even in the NT, Jesus and Paul provide a vast improvement in the treatment of women and their status. Women form a central part of Jesus' ministry. It is a woman who brings the Incarnate Word into the world (Mary), and it is women who first discover the empty tomb and bring the Proclaimed Word into the world (by telling the disciples). It is a Canaanite woman who actually bests Jesus with a riddle/analogy in one of the best uses of irony in scripture (Mt. 15:21-28) and it is women who have some of the most intimate discussions and interactions with Jesus (Jn. 4:4-26; Lk. 7:36-50). Women even sit at the feet of Jesus, and listen as his disciples which was unheard of at the time (Lk. 10:38-42). And, even though a later bishop (who wrote Timothy) uses Paul's name to place limits on women leadership in his congregations, Paul himself elevates the role of women, proclaims them equal with men (and all people regardless of background) (Col. 3:11, Gal. 3:28), and even praises the work of women leaders in the church and commends Junia, a female apostle (Rom. 16:7).

3) Would you yourself or would you condone owning another person?

No, I wouldn't. And I don't think God would either. Though Paul tells slaves they should serve their masters, this should be read in the context of the unequivocal rejection of violence by Jesus and the early church, and in Jesus' and Paul's statements regarding the equality of all individuals. Paul's admonition in this case is actually a position of nonviolent subversion of Roman structures. Christians were to serve (whether free or slave) in such a way that defied the expected reaction to those placed in bondage or forced in anyway. It was indeed a revolution, but a revolution that rejected force and instead relied on the overwhelming power of love to change people's hearts, even the oppressors.

As for the Torah references to slavery,  I stated earlier that I think these are concessions to the cultural mindset and state of sin, violence and oppression in human affairs so that God could begin to define humanity's relationship with each other and with God, and that even they were a vast improvement over contemporary societies. The laws are a stepping stone into relationship, but they do not bring us into ideal relationship with God. That's why the Incarnate Word (Christ) took on flesh, but only once human beings were ready for such a radical event to take place.

4) Would you condone beating said person as long as they didn't die right away?

Well, since I rejected slavery in the previous sections, I suppose I'd beat the s*** out of a free man (I kid, I kid). Again, I think the Torah was a progressive approach to the brutality of human beings and was part of the process of God breaking into our interactions with each other and beginning to establish the grounds which would form our relationship with Him (generally framed within the cultural practice of covenant). This progress continues with the ministry of Jesus, who as the Christ, reframes the entire relationship and sheds new light on the old ways.

It is deeply unfortunate that for many centuries the church forgot these important lessons and took steps backward. Still, God's value and love for women, the oppressed, and the alien has shown through in the work of many saints and mystics through history who tapped into the heart of God and shared it with others. And I think that when the progression of scripture is taken as a whole, and informed in the light of the writings of the early Church fathers, we see a definite movement toward rejecting violence and embracing mercy as a reflection of Christ's character.

5) Do you think eternal torture or annihilation for temporal crimes, unbelief or just 'wrong' thoughts is just?

Nope, and I also don't think scripture refers to eternal torture or annihilation. In the Tanakh, death was vaguely referred to as Sheol. This may have been understood as a shadowy existence, though many Jews believed a person lived on in name only, that they were wholly material infused with the “ruach” or “breath” of God, and that their bodies simply returned to the earth with no afterlife. There are many poetic allusions to death in the OT and very few of them suggest some type of afterlife.

When Jesus talks about Gehenna, much of what he was talking about was actually referring to the upcoming destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem (which happened 40 years after he died and a few years after the gospel of Mark was likely written). Like almost all prophets (including John of Patmos, who wrote Revelation), he was speaking of contemporary conditions and the near future. Now, ever since Clement of Alexandria (and the Alexandrian school), many have ascribed deeper allegorical meaning to these utterances, and I think that's fine as long as we recognize that there are certain lessons which can apply to every generation, there are certain ones which apply only to the original generation, and there may be some that refer to an apocalyptic final future (but these interpretations must always be taken with a grain of salt).

I do think scripture affirms a bodily resurrection, though I don't believe in an immortal soul (which I think is a Greco-Roman syncretic addition to later Christian thought). In fact, I think many of our modern Christian thoughts around the afterlife are Gnostic holdovers that need to be re-examined. Honestly, if an immortal soul was all that was needed for existing, a bodily resurrection wouldn't be necessary. But as Paul states, without the bodily resurrection of Christ, we have no bodily resurrection. And if we have no bodily resurrection, we have no hope (1 Cor. 15:3-19). While much of scripture is infused with myth, I affirm the historicity of the death of Jesus and the discovery of the empty tomb, as well as the perception by the disciples that they saw the risen Lord soon after. It through understanding these specific events as historical that my faith in Christ takes shape.

While I do not have a definitive answer, I have been looking at different possibilities for interpretation. One, is that the condition popularly known as “hell” (a word which never appears in scripture) is actually a post-resurrection state of an individual (or even a state in this life), where they are so filled with rejection, bitterness, and hate that they are agonizing and suffering in the midst of their willful separation. If this is the case, then I think that God's mercy is so great, that in the very moment this person were to turn to God, they would be immediately accepted into the Body of Christ. This could leave open the possibility for even universal reconciliation among all human beings (and, I interpret “human being” to mean all life that has evolved the agency to enter into relationship). Though, there may be some who would so much rather wallow in their own bitterness and general crapitude, that even though they may be resurrected into the midst of Paradise, still they would eternally and wilfully suffer in their own personal “hell.”

If these possibilities are the case, then perhaps scripture (and Jesus) is using the creative imagery of Gehenna and fire to describe these states. There are many places throughout scripture where concrete terms are poetically used (such as in the Psalms and Proverbs) to describe more abstract concepts. A great example is the female personification of wisdom in the proverbs. Concrete imagery (especially in prophetic and apocalyptic works) helps us to grasp almost ungraspable concepts.

6) Would you let your son be tortured and killed to solve a problem you created?

Which one, Samson or Conan? That's right, I named my sons Samson and Conan (I like epic characters, what can I say?). Anyway, I assume you are referring to Christ. I think this is where the doctrine of the Trinity comes into play (though it is a very sticky topic, with much of its thought originating well outside the scope of scripture and more in the context of 4^th century Greco-Roman culture and Greek philosophy). I think that Christ as God's Son may be understood to the effect that the substance, Being God is eternally, coequally Personalized in perfect internal relationship as the Trinity. This relationship becomes our model for relationship, and it is with this understanding that Christians call Jesus the Son. We believe that the Son eternally proceeds from the Father, just as a Word is the expression of the Originator, while at the same time Being the Originator.

That might sound like a lot of word salad (and I think some of the 4^th century and later formulations border on word saladness), but its better if we go back to my point in a previous post about how the symbols of language fail to fully register direct experience, and even less so, direct being (in this case, the Being of God). Part of the value of the symbolic language of Sonship is its connections to sonship (as in the Son of Man, the Son of David) in the OT, and Jesus' special context within Israel. Anyway, the point is, it is God Itself who took on flesh, was tortured, and was killed for a problem that we created. If we have free will (and I think we do, at least in a limited way in our environment), and we were created for relationship with God, creation, and each other, and to be able to create or destroy (as God does, cf. Gen. 1:26-27; Deut. 30:19), then we need to take responsibility for our own actions. Honestly, this is the point of humanism, and helps explain humanism's roots within Christianity. We are responsible for our own problems, and our decision to enter into Christ signals our willingness to be part of the solution.

Final Thoughts

I hope these responses help any readers who are struggling with the idea of a God revealed in scripture and in flesh. As I said earlier, they are the fruit of my own struggle, and it is my hope that they save you some time and maybe some heart-ache; and will hopefully lead you down the path toward the truth (wherever that may lead you).

#christianity #atheism #interpretation #hebrew #women #torah #tanakh #bible #ethics

The Problem of a God Who Allows Suffering, pt. II

This is a bit of a rehash on the topic found in a previous post of mine, The Problem of a God Who Allows Suffering. But as I often re-examine my own ideas, I try to see them from different angles. This time, my thoughts were prompted by the questions a friend of mine posted on Facebook. He asked,

"Whenever something 'bad' happens everyone asks for prayers. Everyone says God answers prayers, but if what they're praying for doesn't happen they always say 'it's what God wanted'. 'It was their time' Then why pray if God is already making the decision?"

 Below is my response. What are your thoughts on this issue? I'm always glad to hear them!

I do believe in God, but I don't think God operates on our terms. A ton of problems humans face are created either by the actions of other humans, themselves, or by systems that humans have set up. In this regard, I think the purpose of faith is a complete change of character, in how we treat others and how we organize the systems which rule our lives. In this way, God ends up acting through the lives of human beings.

As far as natural things that hurt and kill us (earthquakes, floods, disease, asteroids, etc.), I think that these stem from the necessary amount of chaos which exists in the universe to allow for things like free will or uncertainty of action (probability) and biological evolution while also allowing for a relatively stable universe (the determinism we observe in Newtonian physics). If God is actually a God who desires personal relationship with people, then that would only be possible if their actions were probabilistic instead of deterministic. We find an analogy in physics, where many things in quantum theory are probabilistic, while the overarching standard laws of physics tend to be deterministic in nature.

Which means, again, that it is up to human beings to reflect the desires and compassion of God in how we react to such disasters (i.e. through aid to the needy, disaster relief, etc.) When we choose to care for each other, we best reflect the character of God. This is why Jesus says the entire Torah (Jewish Law) can be found in two rules: Love God with everything we are, and love our neighbor as ourself. We fulfill the first by doing the second. And we do the second when we sacrifice what we have, even what we are (our very life), for others.

While I think it's good to ask God for help, I think its better to ask God how we can reflect God's character in the situation we are going through. Our faith isn’t an exercise in escapism, it is an exercise in incarnation. We are called to bring God’s love into the World, rather than flee from it. The example of God’s character on which we model our lives is found in the Incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. He becomes the model by which we live, and the redemption and resolution we find in a life following Him is the vehicle God uses to spread grace throughout the world.

You might say, “Why doesn't God just intervene and stop the nonsense?” I think the key to answering this is in just how we define God. Most people define God using philosophical and ontological terms: God is omniscient (knows everything that is and will be), God is omnipresent (everywhere), and God is omnipotent (all powerful). I don't think these are exactly correct. I think they were when God created the cosmos, but once chaos was introduced into the mix (“the void” or “the seas” is a term the Bible often uses), it meant that the future could change. I do think that God is present in the future as well as the future, but that's a little misleading, as there is no thing called “the future.” There are probable futures, and God is present in all of them. He knows all possible outcomes of any given situation, and even which future is likely to manifest, but He does not know which future precisely will manifest in the reality which we will experience out of all the many possibilities, because that particular future remains un-created until it happens. And that which is un-created is not a thing which can logically be known.

This means that no matter what possible suffering we could experience, God suffers with us. We may not experience every possible future, but I believe God does, including the one we will eventually face. So, instead of omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent; I define God by the attributes found in the revealed Christ: God is imminent (experiences our suffering, and indeed the movement of every particle in the cosmos), God is transcendent (God extends beyond the cosmos, to all possible futures, and even into non-existence), and God is good (despite the suffering we face, as fellow creatures of freedom with the ability to create and destroy, God loves us and has compassion on us – and desires that we do the same).

So does praying do any good? I think it helps us to quiet ourselves, commune with God, and hopefully better reflect God's character in the midst of our suffering. But will God always intervene miraculously? Not if we are to remain creatures of freedom, created in God's image. If all suffering, chaos, and freedom were removed from the cosmos, we would just be a lab experiment or puppets on a stage and would no longer really be human.

I think that sometimes God does intervene miraculously (and definitely did so in the life of Christ), but only to the extent to which we are still able to make our own future and on a statistically negligible basis. I say statistically negligible, based on recent studies regarding the efficacy of prayers for patients in hospitals. I think that if, and when, God does heal someone, it's on His own terms.

#suffering #God #atheism #christianity #DivineIntervention #Providence #probability #determinism #arminianism

Further Thoughts on Faith and Science

After posting "Thoughts on Faith and Science," I received this response, which I thought was worthy of reflection and address:

"You and the article's author are talking about two different things. However, to your point:

'The third is my understanding of miracles. While I don't think it is necessary that most of the miraculous stories in the bible be literally true (and I am not denying their possibility or existence either), I do think that the basic understanding of the Incarnation, death, and resurrection of Christ be true in order for Christian faith to maintain any coherence. These miraculous events, if actually breaking any physical laws, would be 'one-off' affairs, meaning they would be non-replicable (sic) and therefore untouchable to scientific investigation.'

This is what makes science and religion completely incompatible. Science encompasses all things and for something to lie outside the realm of science means that they are at odds on a fundamental level. Merely the existence of some supernatural being (and even there, in the very word supernatural, implies incompatibility with natural science) already defies the very idea of science, much less that this being could pass part of itself into an impossible child (for humans) who then subsequently dies and comes back to life with no outside intervention after a much-too-long period of time.

A miracle may be a miracle in the sense that it is impossible to explain by our current understanding or knowledge. This is fine and compatible with science. But if you step outside the realm of science - 'untouchable to scientific investigation' - then that is where you can no longer the idea of a miracle with science. Fundamentally.

You can argue that the incarnation was poetic and metaphorical, that the death was not a death but some coma that was misinterpreted as death, that the resurrection was a recovery from this coma (perhaps with outside aid, despite what the bible says), and I will buy every bit of it. That is completely compatible with science. But to say that it's a 'one-off' and 'untouchable to [science]' is not acceptable to science." - Mr. Chen, Posted on Facebook, September 11, 2015.

Below are my musings in response to the points of contention Mr. Chen brought up:

Thanks for your thoughts Mr. Chen! I apologize for the late reply as I've been pretty swamped with schoolwork recently.

You're right, my response was really more geared toward comments I had seen in the posting from which this article was taken, and not to the article itself. Another poster made a great summery of the article in his comment [posted on Facebook, above these], with which I generally agreed (especially in its application to political ideas).

I've had some time to reflect on your points and they made me realize that my statement that miraculous events are “untouchable to scientific investigation” isn't exactly true. They may not be repeatable in a lab, but they are subject to historical, anthropological, and archaeological investigation, which are still branches of science. I think, then, a reasonable conversation about events like the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus must rest on what we know about these areas.

However, I've also noticed that we're operating on a number of assumptions regarding natural science that we should probably take a look at. First, we are assuming God would need to break the laws of physics in order for these events to happen. This may very well be true, but I wonder if there are other theological interpretations where this isn't necessary. It seems to me that while the standard laws of physics would be largely deterministic in regards to what events are possible, the nature of many quantum events seem to be more probabilistic in nature. This opens some pretty fantastic possibilities for what would still be regarded as natural phenomena. Since I'm not an expert in these areas, these are just my musings as I read more about them, but I find their implications very intriguing for discussions about God or miracles.

I also question your statement that “science encompasses all things.” I would argue that science encompasses our reasonable inferences regarding subjects we can observe. To truly “encompass all things” we must have knowledge of every bit of information in the universe, and I don't think our species will ever make it to that point naturally. I'm not saying that it's impossible, but based on what I currently know, I think we will always have more to discover.

Perhaps the best analogous event to what we are talking about (and to which we can both agree actually happened) is the Big Bang. Again, I am not an expert in this field, so I may very well be off in my understanding of it. However, my understanding is that the current laws of physics break down in the moments immediately following and surrounding the singularity which signaled the beginning of the event. This could have multiple implications. If the laws of physics can break down once, why can they not do it again? One may very well call this event miraculous, for lack of a better term.

The problem is, many Christians are tempted to leave it at that, with a definition of miracles resting in ignorance rather than what we know. To me, the only relevant God is a revealed God. This means that the true importance of any miraculous (or otherwise unexplained) event rests entirely in revelation. For Christians, this revelation rests primarily in the Incarnation and in the experiences of those who wrote scripture. I think such revelations are naturally possible (without breaking any physical laws) since, much like other quantum events, the nature of the mind also appears to be less deterministic and more probabilistic.

Now, I recognize that allowing for the possibility of miracles does not necessarily mean their certainty. This is where I think historical, anthropological, and psychological study becomes important for their investigation. But the purpose of my response here isn't really to delve into their certainty (which would probably take a bunch more posts); it's mostly just to show the reasonableness of their possibility.

Finally, just to address the coma theory. While as possible as just about anything else, even that would be very unlikely. A man who had just been beaten severely, crucified, stabbed in the side, and left for dead in a cave with probably very little oxygen, and no food or water; would be just about as unlikely to get up, go on a walk and talk with people, as one who had actually been dead. Such an event would probably require Divine intervention. :D #science #religion #atheism #christianity #faith

Thoughts on Faith and Science

The paragraphs below consist of my response to an article in the New Yorker titled, “All Scientists Should Be Militant Atheists.” Actually, this is less a response to the article (which advocates for critical thinking, a position with which I heartily agree), and more a response to many of the comments after the article which seemed to defend the position that faith and science are incompatible (a position with which I heartily disagree).

There have been many mainstream and well respected scientists (including physicists) in the past century who have been religious and who still provided valuable and solid scientific insights, including Charles H. Townes (inventor of the laser), Kenneth R. Miller, Tom Mcleigh, Russel Stannard, etc .

I think perhaps the key is avoiding belief in a "god of the gaps," or a definition of God that is defined by what we don't know. Naturally, as scientific knowledge advances, such a god would inevitably retreat. It is this type of god Richard Dawkins argues against in his book, The God Delusion. Ironically, he uses the argument against the "god of the gaps" as an atheist argument, when Christian theologians (Henry Drummond, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, etc.) have argued against such a definition for centuries.

My understanding of God ultimately derives from the Incarnation of Christ, in that His (or Its, for that matter) presence consubstantiates the physical cosmos. This means the presence of God exists in and all around the cosmos, even extending into nothingness (a God who doesn't exist being the same as That which does), both personal and impersonal. In this point of view, deriving better understandings of the natural world through science helps us better understand the workings of Creation. I find no contradiction with this in scripture, primarily for three reasons:

The first is that many of the miraculous stories found in the Bible are best understood poetically, prophetically, and allegorically. This isn't a new or heterodox position, as it was advanced by St. Clement of Alexandria as early as the second century. This means you don't have to believe in literal talking snakes in order to be a Christian. The creation story is best understood as a poetic myth describing the magnificence of God's creation, and the saga of Adam and Eve is best understood as a conflict which is played out in every human being's life, and not just a "first couple." Please understand, I do not use the word "myth" to mean "fable" or "falsehood", but rather "narrative truth communicated through symbolic means." I firmly believe that some truths cannot be communicated literally, and often story is the best way to transcend cultural and linguistic barriers.

The second is in my understanding regarding the nature of scripture itself. Many people confusingly call it the word of God, though this term is reserved in the New Testament only for Christ himself, and their theology often reflects an unintentional conflation of the two. Perhaps a better term for scripture should be "words about God." This means that all scripture, while I believe it is Divinely inspired, useful in a variety of contexts, and a reliable witness to God’s work in the world, is still humanity's response to the revelation of God rooted in the Incarnation. So of course there are textual variances, scribal mistakes, redactions and a variety of genres testifying to the very human need for creative communication (through the use of myth, poetry, song, parable, and symbol) beyond just the rote assertion of historical or scientific facts. This does not diminish the truth found in Christ (at least for the Christian).

The third is my understanding of miracles. While I don't think it is necessary that most of the miraculous stories in the bible be literally true, I do think that the basic understanding of the Incarnation, death, and resurrection of Christ be true in order for Christian faith to maintain any coherence. These miraculous events, if actually breaking any physical laws, would be "one-off" affairs, meaning they would be non-replicable and therefore untouchable to scientific investigation. It may even be that they do not “break” physical laws, so much as their unique occurrence means they do not factor into the formulation of physical laws based on observable, repeatable phenomena.

This is where it becomes a matter of faith based on the testimony of the gospels. This should not be confused with "blind belief," which I define as intellectual assent for no reason. Instead, it should be defined as a radical, life-changing trust in Christ that is so essentially transforming to a person and community that they become the Body of Christ participating in the redeeming of the cosmos, today.

The above isn't necessarily meant to convert anyone to my point of view and it touches on a lot of elements that deserve a much more extensive treatment. It is simply meant to demonstrate that a rational, scientifically-minded human being can still exhibit faith in God.

 #science #religion #atheism #christianity #faith

Evangelical Christianity Needs to Step Away from the Culture Wars

Below are a couple of great articles by Relevant Magazine on the need for Evangelical Christianity to reject political posturing, move beyond the culture wars, and embrace the life and teaching of Jesus:

"Christians Shouldn't Be Culture's Morality Police" via Relevant Magazine

 "Moving On From the Culture Wars" via Relevant Magazine

These articles led me to the following thoughts...

John 13:35 says, "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another,” not "If you win America for Jesus," or "If you institute biblical laws." Those of us who are called to follow Jesus should be shaped by what he did and taught, but that only happens AFTER we decide to to take that step, and only within the context of relationship with Christ.

It makes no sense to force these things on others, and it certainly harms the Church's ability to be a light for the gospel when we are so obsessed with political and cultural divisions. If we have anything worth sharing with the world (and I believe we do), then it must be shared with compassion, caring, and understanding. Everyone draws on their own experience, reason, and cultural understanding to make their decisions; and we must be willing to accept that.

A non-Christian friend of mine stated, in response to the above thoughts, that a person does not need religion to be moral. They can choose to be compassionate, decent, and equitable without fearing condemnation or seeking reward in the afterlife.

I responded and acknowledged that he is right, one can have morals without religion (though I would argue that all good things come from God, but that conversation probably deserves its own post). Though I don't believe in God out of a fear of what may happen after I'm dead. The idea of a disembodied spirit floating around after we die was borrowed heavily from Greco-Roman culture and philosophy, and strikes me as an untenable belief theologically.

And the idea of such a spirit being submitted to eternal torture isn't supported biblically or by our current scientific understanding. I think the Gehenna which Jesus speaks of (he never uses the word “hell”) is primarily the natural result of the divisive actions of human beings toward each other, toward creation, and toward God. When human beings are consumed by selfishness (or self-righteousness), how could the result be anything but separation? But if you notice, Jesus' message is concerned with how we treat each other in the here and now. While he still works within the framework of Jewish law, he shifts interpretation from one of fear or self-righteousness, to one primarily motivated by love.

I try to be good, and follow Jesus' teachings, not because I'm afraid. I mean, when I'm dead, the jig is up one way or another and it's all out of my hands at that point. smile emoticon But I try to be good because not only am I intellectually convinced through reason and personal experience of God's existence, but I have fallen in love with God. I love God and I love others, not just because somebody told me to, but because in my opinion it's the best, most beautiful, most illuminating way for me to live.

Am I perfect in my understanding or practice of that love? Nope. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna give up trying to live this way. And I think there are many other Christians who share the same point of view. It's true that not all of us do, but that's where the above article comes into play. It's intent (and my intent in sharing it) is to foster a conversation about what living as Christ's disciples really means. We have 2,000 years of bad blood to overcome as people have hijacked the cross for a variety causes (which arguably boiled down to a desire for power in almost every case).

Call me an optimist, an idealist, or just a plain old fool, but I think we can do better. In fact, we owe it to our God and the rest of the world to do better. And this starts by re-centering Christian teaching on the teaching of Christ: which is to love no matter what.
 ‪#‎AmericanChristianity‬ ‪#‎ChristDoesntMeanCulturePolice‬ #Evangelicals

My Reflections on 9/11

In ministry, I am given a voice. And today I am torn between the prophetic and the political voice. This is the anniversary of 9/11. It is a day that is ripe for prophetic statement, but at the same time is very politically charged. One might challenge, the other might heal. Or maybe both voices have the capacity to challenge and heal; just like both have the power to alienate and reinforce old, stale views.

In my weakness, I often default to the political voice, in the service of self-preservation and advancement. But in what I believe is a God-given strength, I deeply desire for humanity to overcome its old hatreds and advance toward things better than we've ever dreamed. And humanity has only ever advanced when it was challenged to do so; even "pissed off" to the point that it would do so. And that is the role of prophetic statements, to get people riled up.

So which do I choose? Am I so vain that I think my statements or views would make any difference? After all, we live in an age of vanity, the age of the "selfie" and twitter, where we broadcast our every thought, whether people want to hear them or not. Or am I so cowardly that I won't stand up for what is right?

I guess when it comes down to it, I have a simple mind and a simple prayer. I pray that today, instead of resorting to political speeches and rallies, we seek forgiveness for the fallen world we've made. I pray that we really think on the only two commands God ever really gave: that we love God with everything we are, and that we love others as much as we love ourselves. And I pray that God heals us, despite our immense stupidity in the face of such global challenges as we look upon today.

That's it; no support for one political side or the other. And this statement offered no real, concrete solutions to our problems (sorry to disappoint whoever was hoping for such things). No grand political statement to make. I'm just a big dummie that wishes people would come together and do the great things that we are able to do as a species, instead of killing each other all the time.