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The Intimidating Task of Bible Study, Part 1

September 13, 2011 Culture, Readings, Relationships, The Text, Theology Comments are closed

Taken from Wes Howard-Brook’s introduction to his commentary on the Gospel of John, Becoming Children of God:

Attempting to read a biblical text challenges us in ways that quickly threaten to sink us in a quicksand of questions. Which translation is “best” if we don’t read ancient Greek or Hebrew? And even if we try to learn something about these long-dead languages, how do we move forward in our language to talk about the text? Once we start getting enmeshed in inquiries about language, the paradoxes of words and their relationship to reality “out there” can become powerfully mind-boggling. Linguistic and literary theory are minefields in which much heat is radiated but precious little light remains after the explosions.

At the same time, the biblical texts – like almost no others still widely read in our time – confront us with worlds confoundingly foreign. Names of people and places seem unpronounceable, and locations are obscure. People behave in ways strange to our “normal” practice, but we cannot easily discern whether their behavior is strange to those with whom they interact in the stories. Much of the context involves situations with which we have absolutely no experience or concern. Furthermore, few sources of information from the ancient world are available to enlighten us on these crucial matters. A few pieces of broken pottery or tablets and miscellaneous scraps of documents are hardly sufficient to recreate for us a sense of the long lost world of Israel. What would future cultural historians do with a couple of our daily newspapers and a handful of random paperbacks from the best-seller list? Would such artifacts allow for reasonably certain inferences about our daily lives and concerns?

What Is One To Do?

Beginning to consider these questions and the infinite corollaries that cascade from them can lead to several responses among prospective biblical readers.

First, we can attempt to close our minds to the questions and, like fundamentalists, pretend in effect that the Bible was written in English in the recent past, interpreting its “plain words” according to our (unspoken) cultural assumptions. This is the de facto reading “method” of most people of goodwill who have grown up with the Bible as a book on the shelf to be read among other selections from history or literature. Whether because the questions are threatening or simply because they have not occurred to us to ask them, we read the Bible naively and come up with naïve – and often dangerous – interpretations.

A second option is to allow the questions to take us over and move toward becoming biblical scholars at one level or another. One can very easily be swept up into methodological questions – for instance, questions of form criticism and hermeneutics – and never return to the Bible itself. Or one can attempt (impossibly) to consider all that has been written on a particular biblical text in an effort to cull the wisdom of “better” and “more qualified” readers than oneself. This project runs into the barriers of one’s own linguistic competence (biblical scholarship speaks many languages) and the supply of periodicals in local theological libraries. Not to mention the financial and social costs of giving up one’s job and family to create the time to read such a mountain of material!

A third possibility in the face of the mammoth nature of the undertaking is to give it up altogether. The Bible is too arcane, too distant, too complicated to be of much practical use for those of us struggling to discern the Creator’s path for humankind in our troubled era. Why bother to conjugate lost languages to figure out how to act in the face of racism, poverty, and the infinite oppressions of everyday life in the American empire? The very act of attempting to dig out from under the mound of questions is evidence enough of the privilege we should probably be about the business of renouncing.

Each of these options avoids in a different way the challenge and opportunity to learn from our ancestors what the Bible offers. Whether one chooses fundamentalism, ivory-tower academia, or some “new” religious approach disconnected from the biblical tradition, the result is to deny the invitation to acknowledge that we stand on the pinnacle of the mountain of human experience. Our “age” – whether we conceive of that term as signifying the baby boomers, generation X, millenials, the period of technology, or the era of democratic capitalism in the West – is only the most recent chapter in a human story spanning many millennia. The simple fact remains that the Bible is the deepest echo of our ancestors’ own cries of “Who are we?” and “What are we to do with our lives?”

So, if we are to choose an alternative to abandoning or getting lost in the search for biblical wisdom, we must begin with a humble acknowledgement that our efforts are limited by many factors that cannot be overcome. Rather than denying either the invitation to learn or the existence of barriers, I urge us to name our limits and continue to move forward.

Who We Are Matters

This very process has also been taking place from within the formal institution of biblical scholarship. Where once professional Bible readers (are there such things?!) claimed “scientific” methods that obviated the need to claim the personal positions and limits of the interpreter, more and more we find scholars admitting what has been true all along. That is, each reader or community of readers comes to the Bible with a panoply of prejudices and commitments that necessarily play a powerful part in shaping how one hears the word of God speaking. Poor peasants in Latin America can connect with Jesus’ parables drawn with images of farming far more readily than clean-fingered university professors in the United States or Europe. Women can hear both the pain caused by the patriarchal mind-set that permeates the Bible and Jesus’ shocking invitations to reshape that mind-set in ways that men such as myself can never do. People anywhere committed to the transformation of unjust social structures into God’s realm of shalom will pick up the pervasive political context of the gospels when readers satisfied with the status quo find only “spiritual” messages.

This is not to suggest that one particular cultural perspective or sociopolitical ideology is “better” for reading the Bible. Rather, it is to call all prospective readers to the enlightening and humbling task of paying attention to how who we are affects who we believe the God of the Bible to be. At the same time, it is not to succumb to a trackless pluralism in which anyone and everyone can read the Bible and find their “opinion” equally valid. Criteria do exist for distinguishing among readers, just as distinctions between faith in Yahweh and faith in Baal, Marduk, or Caesar are not mere tricks of the text. Our image of God and sense of God’s will for us and for creation powerfully influence our sense of what makes for a “right” world. Are we simply part of a dog-eat-dog, survival-of-the-fittest struggle to survive, or ought we to aim together for a harmonious interconnectedness that respects the dignity of all life? Our biblical interpretations are crucial to answer this eminently practical inquiry.

Beginning the Journey

This getting to know ourselves in order to get to know the Bible can, of course, produce the same avoidance of the question as does the attempt to get to know the Bible “directly.” We will never completely know ourselves any more than we will completely know the Bible. But just as we should not allow our ignorance of Greek or Pharisaic practice to prevent our encounter with the sacred texts, we should not stop reading the Bible simply because some unrevealed prejudice may be affecting our reading. Instead, we can, like the Hebrews in Egypt, courageously accept the invitation to leave our captivity behind and begin the journey toward liberation.

Stay tuned for Part 2!

On a Child-Like Faith

August 10, 2011 Philosophy, Relationships, The Text, Theology Comments are closed

When I was little, there were many magical moments. One such moment happened when I entered the living room and found presents under the Christmas tree. Call it Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, or whatever you want – but it was mysterious, and I was in.

This was a wonderful time – and perhaps you can remember such a time in your own life. Or if you have kids, perhaps you know the delight in ‘playing along’ with the story, vicariously experience the joy and innocence once again.

But it can’t last forever – can it?

I suppose we could all mutually agree to believe what we know isn’t the case – and in some ways, you could say that given our Christmas-overkill every year we do exactly that. We reinforce the illusion, by some mutual agreement (which must be some marketer’s dream).

But then a ten-year-old who has figured it out says to her younger brother, “You know Santa isn’t real, right?” And Christmas is ruined. If only he could go back to his child-like faith.

I wonder if there are parallels to this scenario in the life of faith. Jesus certainly commends children as ‘the greatest in the kingdom’ and calls us to receive the kingdom ‘like a little child’. The phrase ‘faith of a child’ or ‘child-like faith’ does not actually appear in the Bible, though the idea is certainly present.

I often hear this referenced when someone takes part in a discussion about hard to understand issues or when learning something that might challenge an aspect of his or her faith that perhaps had been taken for granted.

“But you just have to have a child-like faith.”

OK.

Yes.

But what is a child-like faith?

children-jesus-115 — For theirs is the kingdom of heaven

When Jesus mentions that children are the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, he is noting their humility – not their ability to believe certain things about God, nor their ability to believe almost anything. In Matthew 18 he is contrasting children with those who argue and fight about who is the greatest. (Though I know some kids who have the same argument!).

In Mark 10 he talks about receiving the kingdom like a little child. Here I think the focus is being open to what God is doing in the world. This may be in contrast to those who were skeptical or critical of the things Jesus was doing as he proclaimed the kingdom – teaching, healing, eating with outsiders, etc. So there definitely is an element of openness and embracing what God is saying and doing. Children probably didn’t have the status of adults, and Jesus may be surprising his listeners with who is actually included in the kingdom – children, prostitutes, tax collectors. The kingdom is for ‘the least of these.’

Simpler Times

We all know there is something about grown-ups that gets in the way of relationships, that makes simple things more complicated, that is less willing to trust, and so on.

Further, in a complicated, intimidating world we want something that is easily graspable, something that we can hold on to easily, something that soothes and calms our fears.

Even David in the Psalms yearns for the simplicity of a child:

“I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have stilled and quieted my soul;
like a weaned child with its mother,
like a weaned child is my soul within me.”

There is a time to just sit and rest in God. He is vastly greater than we are, and it is a great comfort to simply trust in his goodness. That is a very biblical thing to do and is one of the supreme joys of faith.

Growing Up

So what are we to do when things get complicated, as they inevitably do? I suppose we could retreat and ‘find a happy place’. Or plug our ears and simply ignore whatever is going on. Or say, “I just want a child-like faith.” Or tap our heels and say, “There’s no place like home.”

But we do not remain children. We grow up.

And that is not necessarily a bad thing.

The Apostle Paul noted as much:

“When I was a child,
I talked like a child,
I thought like a child,
I reasoned like a child.
When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.”

Some say faith is becoming ‘too heady’. Perhaps we have Paul to thank for that. Or the church fathers. Or the desert fathers. Or the various councils that met early on to hammer out incredibly heady ideas. Or Thomas Aquinas. Or Duns Scotus. Or Anselm of Canterbury. Or John Calvin. Or the medieval scholastics who wrote volumes and volumes of incredibly dense theology.

The idea that faith is getting ‘more heady’ is probably not actually the case. In fact, perhaps we are coming out of a time of when the faith has been ‘dumbed down’, and now some are attempting to deconstruct a few of the concepts that came out of our dumbing down period (the explosive growth of fundamentalism in the 20^th century). So maybe there is a reapprehension of the faith taking place. A return to thinking. This might be painful to some, but, in reality – this probably happens in every generation.

One might also point out that the very things we might call the ‘simple aspects’ of faith are themselves the results of some very heady dialogue, hard work and intense thinking. Let’s take one issue: the Trinity. As Christians we take this aspect of God for granted, but it took centuries of thought and argument for this ‘simple’ concept to be worked out. Or the divinity of Jesus. This also took centuries to work itself out. Or pick your favorite ‘simple’ doctrine. The idea that there was a pristine time when faith was simple and we didn’t have to think about things but just trust in God is an illusion.

Even in Jesus’ day children were expected to memorize vast portions of the Torah, if not the whole Torah itself. That’s way too heady for most of us. And that was the expectation for children. So perhaps the faith of a child is the faith of one who takes their faith seriously. Who takes God seriously. Who commits their hearts and minds to knowing God as well as possible, by taking the textual tradition they’ve been handed seriously, and when the kingdom is breaking in around them (even in unexpected ways!) – they are open to it.

Additionally, Jesus himself was one who did quite a bit of deconstructing of what many took for granted. “You have heard it said… but I say to you…”

So when we look for cracks in the settled foundations of our assumptions, perhaps we are simply walking in the path of the Master himself, who called us to be as children, without actually becoming children.

After all, when I was a child, I thought like a child.

But we are no longer children, and we must – at some point – put childish ways behind us.

Pub Theology Recap June 16

June 23, 2011 Culture, Politics, Pub Theology, Relationships, Theology Comments are closed

Whose idea is it to recap a discussion on theology over beer a week later? Not a great idea.

But here goes anyway.

These were last week’s topics, and I’ll do my best to give a couple thoughts that were expressed:

1. What is your favorite part about summer?

2. How does one move forward after a tragedy? How do you explain it?

3. Is history science or art? (See recent Paul Revere revisionism)

4. “Children are bad at lying for the same reason that adults are. We are born with a conscience (which is God’s voice in our soul) that says it is wrong for us to bear false witness.”

5. The Declaration of Independence dogmatically bases all rights on the fact that God created all men equal; and it is right; for if they were not created equal, they were certainly evolved unequal. There is no basis for democracy except in a dogma about the divine origin of man.

6. “The point of the universe is the hallowing of God’s name.”

Favorite parts about summer: no socks, the beach, SUNSHINE!, garden parties, SUNSHINE! and so on… in short – we’ve waited a long time for summer, and woohoo! it’s here!

Topic no.2 was a much more sobering one, given the tragedy with Carly Lewis, a local teenager who was killed in Traverse City.

How do you move forward after something like this? How do you explain it?

Most said that there is no explaining a tragedy, other than giving the straightforward account of what happened: so-and-so did this, and so-and-so did that, and X or Y was the result. It sucks, but that is what happened. Most felt it was beyond us, or even inappropriate, to try to give any larger philosophical or speculative explanations about the bigger picture.

That said, many felt that what is most important is how one responds to a tragedy. One can wallow in it, perhaps even remain paralyzed by it. One can find something deep inside that they didn’t have before. One can find communal support that he or she wasn’t aware of before. And one can perhaps be a source of help for others experiencing similar difficult situations.

But much of that is down the road. The immediate reality is grief, shock, anger – raw emotion. And no one can tell anyone else how they ought to respond to such things.

Some personal stories were shared around this topic, and I think it was a meaningful and important time to spend together.

Topic no.3: is history science or art? Did Paul Revere ring bells while warning the British about American weapons?

Here’s a re-enactment by Stephen Colbert of Paul Revere’s famous midnight ride:

OK, it’s not letting me embed. Here’s the link:

http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/388583/june-06-2011/paul-revere-s-famous-ride

4. We noted that children are actually quite decent at lying, and adults perhaps even moreso. But what does lying say about someone? And have you ever experienced someone blatantly lying to you and you knew it? What did you do?

5. Everyone agreed this quote was bunk.

6. One person responded: “I don’t think that is the point of the universe.” Then he rephrased, “Or maybe that’s part of it – but it isn’t the whole thing.” What do you think?

Pub Theology Recap June 9

June 16, 2011 Pub Theology, Relationships Comments are closed

A great turnout last Thursday, and some very good conversation. With a pint from the cask in hand, we set out to respond to six questions I took from an evangelism questionnaire that I had used in college.

The questions surprisingly created a lot of good conversation and sharing about things, prompting us to wonder about the effectiveness of such a questionnaire, not to mention the idea of accosting random people to talk to them about deep personal matters.

The questionnaire is as follows:

1. How would you describe your life in one word?

2. What three things do you most desire out of life?

3. What do you think “God” is like?

4. Who, in your opinion, is Jesus Christ?

5. If you were to die tonight and found yourself standing before God, and he asked you, “Why should I let you into My heaven?” How would you respond?

6. If you could know with 100% certainty how you could get into heaven, would you be interested in hearing about that?

The first two questions created opportunity for us to share some things about ourselves that our normal questions didn’t necessarily prompt. So that was very cool.

The third and fourth questions began to lead us into theological territory – also somewhat revealing in the group, and certainly would be in an interaction with a stranger.

It seems, though, that it is all a warmup to no.5: the evangelical zinger. Give me the password that gets you into heaven. Answer correctly and you win! The prize: eternity in heaven. Answer wrong, and (cue the Price is Right wrong answer theme), sorry friend, the flames await you. Which made us wonder about the typical evangelical understanding of salvation, of evangelism, of faith, and all that. Is life really just a big prelude, and the goal, after all the major events, life learning, relationship building, personal growth, etc, is simply to answer a question correctly? And if I didn’t study adequately for the test, or if I somehow was never properly prepped, I’m doomed? That all seems like a cruel joke.

Perhaps a short answer might point to something deeper and and true in a sense, but the idea of having to answer a question at the gate seems sort of silly, and falls right into all the old cliches about St. Peter manning the door.

And of course question no.6 makes the whole thing seem like a sales gimmick. If you could be 100% certain of how to get no.5 right – would you be interested? In fact, we have a money-back guarantee! (Too bad you’ll be too dead to claim it though!)

We then began wondering about the whole idea of street evangelism, beach evangelism, door-to-door evangelism, etc. Can deep and serious matters be discussed or entered into at a meaningful level in a random encounter with a stranger? Should the gospel be peddled like it’s the next-best vacuum? Where do relationships come into play? Where does community fit in? What about discipleship? What about going forward?

oceancityboardwalk — Ocean City boardwalk

I noted that in my experience of two summers doing beach evangelism in South Jersey, at its best, we had meaningful encounters with people and then encouraged them to find a local church to connect to. Even better were our relationships with locals through our summer jobs. But you wonder how effective this ‘drive-by evangelism’ really was for some random person on the boardwalk who was simply trying to figure out how best to devour the delicious elephant ear they were holding to suddenly realize the more pressing matter of hell was being shoved down their throat. As they stared dumbfounded at you, the eager college student with all the answers and the salvation guarantee, you wonder if there were moments we actually did more harm than good.

There’s a great post on the blog Slacktivist about evangelism (thanks, Steve!), where the following is noted:

Without relationship, it’s not really evangelism, merely sales. Evangelism should never be anything like sales. This is not a transaction, not commerce.

No doubt. They also note the important point that listening is key. Too often we are armed with ‘the answers’ and enter into a conversation so that we can tell someone what’s what. This is not a new tact:

The Cherokee Baptist theologian Bill Baldridge tells a story about white missionaries who arrived at the Indian settlement. “We are here to tell you the story of our God and of salvation,” they announced.

The elders welcomed them, brought them food, and gathered around to hear this story. The missionaries, pleased by this enthusiastic audience, decided to go with the Long Version. They started at the beginning and over the next several hours they told the whole great Christian saga of creation, fall and redemption.

When at last the missionaries were finished, the elders thanked them. “This is a good story,” the elders said. “Now we would like to share with you our story.”

The missionaries were furious. Hadn’t these people been listening? Didn’t they realize that they had just heard the One True Story and that their old story, whatever it was, no longer mattered?

The missionaries abruptly left, shaking the dust off their shoes and heading out to find some other group more receptive to to their message.

Sad, but I’m sure I could dig back and find similar instances from my own evangelistic efforts.

So it was a good night at the Pub last week, and I look forward to the next one, as learn to share our stories, our perspectives, our lives, and as we do so, may we remember that ‘our stories are not an argument.’ They are us. May we give them the respect they deserve, and not merely use (or abuse!) them to win a debate, but rather share them with one another, even as they are unfolding at that very moment.

Stages of Faith

May 19, 2011 Relationships, The Text, Theology Comments are closed

Stages of Faith: Human Development and the Quest for Meaning
James Fowler, Ph.D. is a developmental psychologist, a United Methodist layperson, and Director of the Center for Faith Development at Emory University. He is the premiere pioneer of the study of Faith development, and his book Stages of Faith (1981) is a ground-breaking classic. Fowler identifies six stages through which pilgrims of faith invariably travel. Below are summaries of the stages drawn from various sources as well as the book itself. Read it through and see what you think.

The first stage:
Intuitive-Projective faith
This first stage usually occurs between the ages of three and seven, and is characterized by the psyche’s unprotected exposure to the Unconscious. Imagination runs wild in this stage, uninhibited by logic. It is the first step in self-awareness and when one absorbs one’s culture’s strong taboos. The advantages of this stage are the birth of imagination and the growing ability to grasp and unify one’s perception of reality. This age perceives the world through lens of imagination and intuition  unrestrained by logic e.g., lives in a magical world in which anything is  possible.

The second stage: Mythic-Literal faith
Symbol and ritual begin to be integrated by the child. These symbols, however, are one-dimensional. Only literal interpretations of myth and symbol are possible. Here the child develops a way of dealing with the world and making meaning that now criticizes and  evaluates the previous stage of imagination and fantasy. The gift of this  stage is narrative. The child now can really form and re-tell powerful  stories that grasp his or her experiences of meaning. There is a quality of literalness about this. The child is not yet ready to step outside the stories and reflect upon their meanings. The child takes symbols and myths  at pretty much face value, though they may touch or move him or her at a  deeper level. Here one sees the world as a story–concrete, literal, narrative family of  ritual and myth e.g., “In the beginning, God created the . . .”

The third stage: Synthetic-Conventional faith
The majority of the population finds its permanent home in this stage. Usually arising in adolescence, it is a stage characterized by conformity, where one finds one’s identity by aligning oneself with a certain perspective, and lives directly through this perception with little opportunity to reflect on it critically. One has an ideology at this point, but may not be aware that one has it. Religious concepts are “tacitly” held – the person is not fully conscious of having chosen to believe something. Thus the name “Synthetic” – beliefs are not the result of any type of analytical thought. Any attempts to reason with a person in this stage about his beliefs, any suggestion of demythologizing his beliefs is seen as a threat. Those who differ in opinion are seen as “the Other,” as different “kinds” of people. Authority derives from the top down, and is invested with power by majority opinion. Dangers in this stage include the internalization of symbolic systems (power, “goodness” “badness”) to such a degree that objective evaluation is impossible. Furthermore, while one can at this stage enter into an intimate relationship with the divine, This stage develops in the teenager to early adulthood or beyond, sees the world through the lens of  the peer community e.g., unconsciously “catches” faith, values, and way of  thinking from peer group or subculture. Tends not to question the accepted ways of thinking e.g., “if the Bible says . . . it must be true” or “if my church says . . . then it’s the Truth.” At this stage it is difficult dealing calmly and rationally  with issues that touches on one’s identity.

One of the hallmarks of this stage is that it tends to compose its images of  God as extensions of interpersonal relationships. God is often experienced  as Friend, Companion, and and Personal Reality, in relationship to which I’m  known deeply and valued. I think the true religious hunger of adolescence is  to have a God who knows me and values me deeply, and can be a kind of  guarantor of my identity and worth in a world where I’m struggling to find  who I can be.   At any of the stages from two on you can find adults who are best described by these stages. Stage Three, thus, can be an adult stage. We do find many persons, in churches and out, who are best described by faith that essentially took form when they were adolescents. The name “conventional” means that most people in this stage see themselves as believing what “everybody else” believes and would be reluctant to stop believing it because of the need they feel to stay connected with their group. It turns out that most of the people in traditional churches are at this stage. And in fact, Fowler comes right out and states that religious institutions “work best” if the majority of their congregation is in Stage 3. (Now THAT explains a lot of the preaching we hear that sounds destined to discourage people from questioning! To properly assure their continuance, churches apparently need people to remain in Stage 3. )

When a person cognitively realizes that there are contradictions between some of his authority sources and is ready to actually reflect realistically on them, he or she begins to be ready to move to the fourth stage.

The fourth stage: Individuative-Reflective
This is primarily a stage of angst and struggle, in which one must face difficult questions regarding identity and belief. It is ideal that a person reach this stage by their mid-twenties, but as has already been discussed, it is evident that many adults never reach it. If it happens in the thirties or forties or even later, it is much harder for the person to adapt. At this time, the personality gradually detaches from the defining group from which it formerly drew its identity. The person is aware of him or herself as an individual and must–perhaps for the first time–take personal responsibility for his/her beliefs and feelings. This is a stage of de-mythologizing, where what was once unquestioned is now subjected to critical scrutiny. Stage four is heavily existential, where nothing is certain but one’s own existence, and disillusionment reigns. This stage is not a comfortable place to be and, although it can last for a long time, those who stay in it do so in danger of becoming bitter, suspicious characters who trust nothing and no one. But most, after entering this stage, sense that not only is the world far more complex than his or her stage three mentality would allow for, it is still more complex and numinous than the agnostic rationality of stage four allows.

Meanings in stories become separate from the symbols themselves, so the stories are demythologized. (In losing the literal meaning of the religious symbols, people can lose ALL meaning of the symbol and that is how you wind up with so many atheists and agnostics at this stage.) This process can result in grief and guilt in some cases, and can take several years to work through. But in the place of the literal symbol, the person gains the ability to make comparisons and whatever meanings they retain are explicitly held (and thus more authentic in that they are personal.)

The strengths of this stage lie in the capacity for critical reflection (and the willingness to face truths that may cause distancing from comfortable thought patterns and thus pain.) But a weakness of this stage is that the person may put excess confidence in the rational, conscious mind, thus ignoring unconscious and spiritual forces that become more prominent in the next stage.

Stage five: Conjunctive faith
Here one moves from stage four’s rationalism to the acknowledgement of paradox and transcendence. It is in this stage that, in Washburnian terminology, one chooses regression in the service of transcendence. One develops a “second naivete” in which symbolic power is reunited with conceptual meanings. It was Barth’s and Ricoeur’s common conviction that theological interpretation of the Bible ought to lead us beyond a critical preoccupation with the text to a fresh encounter with the divine reality to which the text bears witness. In this stage a person grasps the reality behind the symbols of his or her inherited systems, and is also drawn to an acknowledging of the symbols of other’s systems. People in this stage are willing to engage in dialog with those of other faiths in the belief that they might learn something that will allow them to correct their own truths. To get to this point, it is critical that the person has moved through the demythologizing phase of stage four. This stage makes room for mystery and the unconscious, and is fascinated by it while at the same time apprehensive of its power. It sees the power behind the metaphors while simultaneously acknowledging their relativity.

In stage five, the world is re-sacrilized, literally brimming with vision. It is also imbued with a new sense of justice that goes beyond justice defined by one’s own culture and people. Because one has begun to see “the bigger picture,” the walls culture and tradition have built between ourselves and others begins to erode, and one can work through one’s cultural and psychological baggage. Stage Five is a period when one is alive to paradox, and, though it is not easy to live on the cusp of paradox, one understands that truth has many dimensions which have to be held together in paradoxical tension. It is an overwhelming, ecstatic stage in which one is radically opened to possibility and wonder. One becomes committed to a form of justice that extends to those outside the confines of tribe, class, religious community or nation. With this very inclusive worldview, people at Stage 5 are in an excellent position to make important contributions to society.

Stage six: Universalizing faith
The final stage is reached only by the very, very few. Examples Fowler names are Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr. and Mother Teresa. In a sense we can describe this stage as one in which persons begin radically to live as though what Christians and Jews call the “kingdom of God” were already a fact.  These people experience a shift from the self as the center of experience.  Now their center becomes a participation in God or ultimate reality. There’s  a reversal of figure and ground. They’re at home with a  commonwealth of being. We experience these people on the one hand as being more lucid and simple than we are, and on the other hand as intensely liberating people, sometimes even subversive in their liberating qualities. Persons described by stage six typically exhibit qualities that shake our usual criteria of normalcy. Their heedlessness to self-preservation and the vividness of their taste and feel for transcendent moral and religious actuality give their actions and words an extraordinary and often unpredictable quality. In their devotion to universalizing compassion they may offend our parochial perceptions of justice.

Pub Theology Recap May 12

May 19, 2011 Culture, Philosophy, Pub Theology, Relationships, The Text, Theology Comments are closed

So… a good night at the pub last Thursday. So intense it took me a week to attempt to relive it. A nice group – some friends from in town, some friends from out of town, some other friends…

The topics, shorthand, were setup as follows: man vs. wild, soul vs. body, and interpretation vs. facts.

First topic: Like animals – we eat, sleep, defecate, and have sex. How are we different?

Interesting question. Everyone at the table finally admitted to participating in all the above activities. Wait, was I not supposed to share that?

“We are animals. Does anyone here think we’re not animals?” Steve had to know.

Silence. Crickets.

The non-animals among us refused to speak up. Guilty as charged. Apparently our initial dichotomy – ‘man vs. wild’ should be rephrased to: ‘man is wild’?

Brian noted the law recently passed in Florida which forbade sex with animals.

“Apparently it’s now illegal to have sex in Florida,” he quipped.

Clever.

Yet.

There are differences, aren’t there? You wouldn’t imagine a group of hyenas gathered around a table having existential ponderings. You don’t see chimpanzees inventing smartphones. You don’t see parakeets writing novels. So there are some differences. What are they?

Rational thought? The ability to step outside ourselves? The awareness of our own mortality? The ability to have empathy? The presence of a soul? The need to dispose of our defecation?

Well, we couldn’t let that one alone. Somehow we stumbled on the topic of privacy when it comes to going to the bathroom.

“I can’t stand it when stalls don’t have doors.”

“Don’t you hate it when that guy just has to keep talking to you at the urinal? You know that guy.”

“One time, I was in a stall in a large bathroom near the beach, and I just started making loud painful groaning sounds. It was hilarious.”

Wait, what?

Speaking of, what do you make of the following:

“[T]he immediate appearance of the Inner is formless $h*t. The small child who gives his sh-t as a present is in a way giving the immediate equivalent of his Inner Self. Freud’s well-known identification of excrement as the primordial form of gift, of an innermost object that the small child gives to its parents, is thus not as naive as it may appear: the often-overlooked point is that this piece of myself offered to the Other radically oscillates between the Sublime and – not the Ridiculous, but, precisely – the excremental. This is the reason why, for Lacan, one of the features which distinguishes man from animals is that, with humans, the disposal of sh-t becomes a problem: not because it has a bad smell, but because it came out from our innermost selves. We are ashamed of sh-t because, in it, we expose/externalize our innermost intimacy. Animals do not have a problem with it because they do not have an “interior” like humans.”

Leave to Zizek to get all psychoanalytic about poop.

Yet perhaps he’s on to something.

In any case, isn’t there a Game 7 tonight? Spoiler: the Wings came up just short. Oh that’s right, that was a week ago.

We did spend some time on the idea of the soul. Is that a differentiating factor? Do all dogs go to heaven?

We started talking about the idea of the Christian hope in a new heavens and a new earth. I wondered, “So, what about dogs? I mean, I assume on the new earth there will be animals. Will they be the ‘same’ animals? I mean, will my dog Oscar that we had when I was a kid be there? Or will there just be some ‘stock’ golden labs who are like Oscar but aren’t actually Oscar?”

Compelling question. Unfortunately no one had a definitive answer.

“Much of the afterlife is simply speculation,” noted Kristen (not to be confused with Kirsten).

Agreed.

Somehow we stumbled on to the idea of biblical inspiration, and how to deal with some of the difficult texts in the Old Testament.

“When the Bible has God say, ‘Kill every man, woman, and child,’ is that really God saying that, or just the people saying God said that? Maybe they just slaughtered a group of people, and now they are attributing their actions to God’s commands to them, which sort of takes the responsibility off of them for what they’ve just done. History is written by the winners, so perhaps they’re just putting their spin on it. Or God did actually say it, and if so, what does that mean about God?”

“Well, maybe it’s neither of those – maybe it’s something else. History is often written by the winners – but the Bible seems an exception. Israel was not a great nation or empire, even at its peak, compared to Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, and so on. Perhaps God is telling them these things, but he has a reason for it, and it’s reflective of the time, the culture, and how things worked then. If God was easy to explain, would he still be God?”

“Wait, is this the topic?”

“Who cares – this stuff is interesting!”

Indeed.

So we decided that we are all animals, but animals who care, and that makes us special. We also decided that some things, like difficult texts in the Bible, are a bit of a mystery, and we can have some flexibility in our understanding of them, and should allow our ideas of inspiration to have room for different readings and approaches to the text. Actually there were no group decisions.

But on the note about challenging texts in the Bible, I came across a book recently that I’m intrigued by: The Human Faces of God: What Scripture Reveals When It Gets God Wrong (and Why Inerrancy Tries to Hide It). It’s written by Thom Stark and published by Wipf and Stock. (Hey – sounds like they publish quality books…)

Here are a few endorsements:

I learned so much from this book that I can strongly encourage anyone who is seeking to move from simplistic proof-texting to a comprehensive understanding of the Bible to read this book carefully.

–Tony Campolo

author of Red Letter Christians

Christians can ignore the facts that Stark brings into the light of day only if they want to be wrong.

–Dale C. Allison, Jr.

author of Constructing Jesus

This is must reading for Christians who have agonized over their own private doubts about Scripture and for others who have given up hope that evangelical Christians can practice intelligent, moral interpretation of the Bible.

–Neil Elliott

author of Liberating Paul

[W]ith the help of this book, we may discover that the Bible when we read it in all its diversity and vulnerability does bring healing words to those who keep listening.

–Ted Grimsrud

author of Embodying the Way of Jesus

Stark’s book effectively demonstrates how the Bible, in practice, is the most dangerous enemy of fundamentalists.

–James F. McGrath

author of The Only True God

The Human Faces of God is one of the most challenging and well-argued cases against the doctrine of biblical inerrancy I have ever read.

–Greg A. Boyd

author of The Myth of a Christian Nation

Stark provides a model for theology that is committed to hearing the voice of the victims of history, especially the victims of our own religious traditions.

–Michael J. Iafrate

PhD Candidate, Toronto School of Theology

This book is the most powerful antidote to fundamentalism that I’ve ever read.

–Frank Schaeffer

author of Crazy for God

Wow. Maybe I’ll read it. I downloaded the first chapter free on my Kindle. I’ll check it out and let you know if it’s as good as everyone says.

Here’s a summary:
Does accepting the doctrine of biblical inspiration necessitate belief in biblical inerrancy? The Bible has always functioned authoritatively in the life of the church, but what exactly should that mean? Must it mean the Bible is without error in all historical details and ethical teachings? What should thoughtful Christians do with texts that propose God is pleased by human sacrifice or that God commanded Israel to commit acts of genocide? What about texts that contain historical errors or predictions that have gone unfulfilled long beyond their expiration dates?

In The Human Faces of God, Thom Stark moves beyond notions of inerrancy in order to confront such problematic texts and open up a conversation about new ways they can be used in service of the church and its moral witness today. Readers looking for an academically informed yet accessible discussion of the Bible’s thorniest texts will find a thought-provoking and indispensable resource in The Human Faces of God.

From a reader on Amazon.com:
This is the book I have been waiting for my whole adult life. Like Stark, I was raised to understand the Bible as the inerrant word of God, “dropped from heaven”. I have been a Christian my whole life, yet I have increasing become uncomfortable with some of the difficult texts in the Bible and their implications on my faith and personal understanding of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. This has been compounded by the fact that I now have young children and am reading the Bible with them, struggling with how to present stories such as the Passover, wishing I could somehow skip over them. Stark addresses the difficult issues with precision, intellect, and devotion, never turning his back on Christianity. For me, the chains are off. Ironically, I can now read the Bible with more commitment. I don’t wish to skip over the difficult texts, I can address them again. My faith has been rekindled. Thank you, Thom Stark.

Good stuff! I think I’m getting a copy for Half the Sky, the Watershed Community Library. But I’m not here to sell books… (at least not yet.) 🙂

Pub Theology Recap April 28

April 29, 2011 Culture, Philosophy, Pub Theology, Relationships, Theology Comments are closed

It was a light but enjoyable evening of Pub Theology last night. The art, on the other hand, was once again ominous and imposing.

The hyped-up “Duel of the Deities”, or whose God was ‘bigger and better’, was instantly over when I pulled out my article. Who could argue with a headline like that? 🙂

We began discussing breakast. What we had that morning, and what an ideal breakfast would be. Actual breakfasts ranged from oatmeal, to a scone, to yogurt. Ideal breakfasts included vegetable-heavy omelettes, bacon, homemade pancakes, French toast, and my fav – a Turkish breakfast comprised of cucumbers, tomatoes, feta cheese, olives, a boiled egg, yogurt, and toast.

The Presbyterian-heavy crowd had some thoughts on the second topic: are human beings sinful by nature?

I certainly grew up hearing again and again that I was ‘totally depraved’. That was hammered in pretty well. Sinful, broken, and separated from God, and barely tolerated by him. We connect this to original sin – the initial sin by the first human pair. Yet how do we balance this with God’s initial, earliest declaration of humanity as good? (Even very good!). One participant noted Matthew Fox’s book (no, not Jack from LOST) called “Original Blessing” which attempts to swing the pendulum this other direction, toward humanity as goodness. I haven’t read the book, but the idea makes sense to me. Our original status, you might even say, root status is that of being good, of being made in the image of God. If that were not the case, why would, according to the Christian story, God become incarnate as one of us? Why would he bother with us at all?

All of us agreed that we are broken, sinful, and all that, but that perhaps we ought to balance the story, and remember that we are, in the end, God’s good creation, indelibly stamped with his mark, and that God in Jesus is now a fellow embodied person. (Normally we would have a contingent who would have preferred different language than ‘sinful’ such as evolutionary tendencies, or biological imperatives, for example – in other words, interpreting harmful actions materially rather than theologically).

In the midst of conversation, we were able to sample some homebrew (under the table), including the incredible “Last Rites”, an imperial IPA. There was also some Scotch Ale of the sour variety (no comment). This balanced out the Raisin-Ade I had from the cask (very flavorful), and the Bitchin’ Brown, a very nice brown ale.

We pondered momentarily whether or not there is an ‘age of accountability’, an age at which one is responsible for one’s moral actions, or responsible for turning to God or not. In other words, does it make sense to say that a five-year-old who dies could be in hell? What about a twelve-year-old?

Conversation late in the evening turned to my unfortunate article headline in the newspaper. A couple who hadn’t read the paper or the article had the initial response: “Wow, that’s defamation of character. You should totally let them know how you were misrepresented.” Alas…

Pub Theology Recap April 21

April 27, 2011 Philosophy, Pub Theology, Relationships, Theology Comments are closed

TRAVERSE CITY (AP) – Surrounded by some new art, and sitting beneath a sign that designated the space as purgatory, about fifteen people of various lineage gathered at the Pub during Holy Week, or more precisely, on Maundy Thursday.

What exactly is Maundy Thursday?

Great question – but they weren’t there to answer that. (Though it’s apparently also known as the Thursday of Mysteries.)

Some wonderful brews on tap, not least of which was the Darkstar Stout flowing from the cask. (You can never go wrong with the cask).

First topic: What is your earliest memory?

PT042111 — if i could only remember back far enough...

There were several good ones. Here’s a taste:

– “I remember being spoonfed a sundae by my mother at Dairy Queen while sitting in the stroller…”

– “There was an old barn across from the apartment complex we lived in. I remember distinctly sitting on the hill by our apartment, watching a large barn across the street burn to the ground. I was three.”

– “Something about being on the stairs, and my sister wasn’t around yet, which makes it about the only memory I have from then.”

– Mine: “I was probably four, in the basement with a friend. My mom was doing the laundry in the room next to us. We were throwing plastic bowling pins up at the naked lightbulb. Eventually we managed to hit it – throwing glass and darkness all over us. There were screams.”

– “My earliest memory is of my older brother having his dirty diaper changed, which means I must have been about six months old. Wait… that can’t be right.”

– The best one: “I have no particular memory of my early years. Just some vague feelings.”

There was general debate about when the earliest you can remember is… Some said three, others said four. One claimed to have a memory from much earlier.

I noted that my kids watch videos of themselves from when they were babies and toddlers, and we all sort of wondered about what that would do to their memories as they grow up. (I make a year-end video of the kids every December – Lubbergho. Perhaps I’ll post one on youtube one of these days).

It was a great opening conversation, and we went various places from there, hitting on a few of these topics:

1. Have you ever felt truly alone?
Describe the situation. What did you do?
Are there practices that help you in those moments?

2. What is your favorite day of Holy Week?
Do you connect more with Good Friday or Easter?

3. What do you believe happened on the cross?

4. “To believe in the gospel in today’s day and age, one must first understand that language does not only denote objective realities.”

5. Does all knowledge derive from experience?

6. Do atheists get respect in our culture? Why/Why not?

We wrapped up the evening by musing on the following poem:

Alone

I am afraid

The gulf between us is vast

As all eternity

The frozen hand of death

Touches my throat

Catching my words unspoken

Alone we die

Together we live

Reach out now

Help me live

In love together

We cannot die

If you have a thought on the above, or an earliest memory you’d like to share, post it below!

Pub Theology Recap April 14

April 16, 2011 Culture, Philosophy, Pub Theology, Relationships, The Text, Theology Comments are closed

It was a surreal night at the pub, which began with the ominous hint that we might be meeting in purgatory. That clarified a lot of things for everyone, like why we’d all had feelings of being stuck, of going in circles, of having been here before. Or something like that.

The CEO Stout was back on the board, which pleased many folks, as did the Fat Lad, an imperial Russian oatmeal stout. I stuck with the Black and Blue Porter, a roasty porter fermented with Michigan blueberries. It’s better than it sounds (the blueberry is subtle).

So, a nice turnout this past Thursday, and we began with the question of anxiety.

First Topic: In what ways has your faith been influenced by anxiety? Fueled anxiety? Calmed anxiety? How has anxiety played a role in your spiritual journey?

The first respondent noted the way that faith can cause anxiety. The example was being in a challenging situation, and finding oneself wanting to pray or make some sort of request of God, even though she wouldn’t normally consider herself a person of faith. This then could cause a sort of anxiety: why am I doing this? Is there some deep-rooted spiritual reality within me, or is this just a culturally and socially-conditioned habit?

Another person noted that faith often calms anxiety. It is a realization that things which are out of our control are in God’s hands, and this brings an enormous sense of calm and well-being. That reminds me of something Jesus said: “Do not worry about your life… Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things… therefore do not worry about tomorrow.”

Someone countered with: “But if it’s out of your hands, why are you worried about it at all? Why bring in God to the situation? It’s out of your hands, so worry about the stuff you can deal with, and leave the rest alone. It will take care of itself whether God is involved or not. (And it often seems he’s not).”

I could resonate with all three of these comments, at least in part. On occasion there are times I wonder if I’m not just talking to myself when I pray (if I’m honest), or if God really is paying attention or cares… but at the end of the day, my experience more generally is that prayer does give me a connection with the divine, and my faith allows me to *trust* that God is there, whether I always feel it or not, and this does give me a sense of calm, and respite from anxiety. He’s working things out in his ways, his timing, and ultimately it’s not up to me.

What about you? How does worry or anxiety play a role in your faith journey?

Second Topic: Is theology simply archival, or is there more work to be done?

In other words, has all the real theology already been done, and our job is simply to dig in the archives, or the library, pull the dusty tomes off the shelves and memorize what’s already been accomplished? There was one sarcastic yes (it’s simply archival), but everyone generally agreed, theology must be an ongoing discipline, a necessary engagement for everyone and every generation. We didn’t spend much time on this, but my own sense is not that we reinvent theology every generation, but rather that we build upon the foundation we’ve already been given, with the occasional need to deconstruct former assumptions. We certainly don’t start from scratch. We have been handed a tradition, and it is our job to be faithful *within* that tradition, which does not mean being slaves to it, but reappropriating and rearticulating it for today.

Third Topic: “We have not allowed the meaning of the facts of our infinite universe to affect us and our view of God.”

This one came out of a paper delivered by Lissa McCullough at the Future of Continental Philosophy Conference, entitled: Affirmations, Negations, Counter-Reformations: How God Outgrew Religion. In other words, much of our theology was developed when the idea that man was the center of the universe and the crown of God’s creation was taken for granted. But once it was noted that the earth is not the center of the universe, nor even our own galaxy or solar system, this idea was necessarily strained. The contention in the paper was that “We have not allowed the meaning of the facts of our infinite universe to affect us and our view of God.” In other words, we haven’t experienced it. We still talk in ways that seem that God is concerned primarily with not only humanity, but each of us individually. That claim was pressed by Lissa, who noted that rather than being us who killed God, it was God who killed man, the God who is de-centered and apparently loves galaxies (of which there are, at last count, at least 500 billion), each containing millions of stars and possible worlds like ours. Her contention is that our God is too small, and we need to realize that God is clearly a universal God, not simply a tribal God. Giordano Bruno (b.1548), an Italian Dominican Friar who was also an astronomer noted that we must seek “joy in the infinite… joy in an infinite universe which is the image of a God who is not simply anthropocentric.”

Fourth Topic: “It’s impossible to escape the constraints of language and objectively say whether our beliefs are true or not. Whatever your choice, faith is required.”

In other words, we cannot move beyond language into the actual. All our words are approximations, attempts at describing the actual which is always in some sense beyond us, and certainly beyond our conceptualizations of it.
A couple of quotes help here:

“Truth cannot be out there—cannot exist independently of the human mind—because sentences cannot so exist, or be out there. The world is out there, but descriptions of the world are not. Only descriptions of the world can be true or false. The world on its own—unaided by the describing activities of humans—cannot.” – Richard Rorty

“The truth is that there is no answer in the back of the book to which there is assent, no final arbiter who will finally adjudicate rival claims – not in this life anyway. And most of those who want absolutes tend to accept authority only if that authority makes the absolute claims to which they are already disposed. At this point we only have perspectives on ultimate truth and not ultimate truth itself.” – Walter Brueggemann
–
I think these are helpful perspectives for us to carry what many call a ‘chastened faith’, or a hermeneutic of humility. Yes we have God’s Word, as Christians, but there are endless interpretations of those words by well-meaning Christians throughout history. It seems when the church acts on certainty and an unwarranted confidence that its views and perspectives and understandings are absolutely right, it tends to cause serious problems in the world.

There are absolute truths, of course. But no one has indisputable access to them. We grasp them, as believers, by faith. A faith that is humble, but hopeful.

(And gets us out of purgatory).

Have a thought on the above? Leave your comment below!

A Common Table

April 14, 2011 Relationships, The Text, Theology Comments are closed

In his introduction to the book The Post-Evangelical, Dallas Willard notes: “Often we create ‘marks of group membership’ by making definitive statements from a particular interpretation of the Bible. So for example, issues such as whether you believe that women should be allowed to teach or whether Christ will return soon after the millennium begins may be used as tests for whether or not you believe the Bible – and that test, in turn, may be used as a test of whether you are a Christian. And so on. The question moves from ‘Where are you before God?’ to ‘Are you a member of our group?’. Once we make that move, we risk smothering Jesus in a heap of trivialities.”

In lieu of such a definitive statement, here is an attempt at describing our posture of faith:

A Common Table

As Willard noted, statements of faith can often be used as litmus tests to help someone determine whether people are ‘in’ or ‘out’, or whether or not this church ‘has it right’.

So rather than making a long list of what we do believe or don’t believe, we’d prefer to think of a table which gathers us together and invites us in, at which all are welcome, and at which we can experience life together. This table denotes some things that are central to our understanding of faith, but the table is not meant to keep people in or out, but rather, to draw people into the center of life with God. A table evokes things like food, meals, shared experience, laughter, tears, confessions, obsessions, accomplishments, rejections, love and sorrow, bread and wine, newness… and community.

In the picture, you notice three words – God, Jesus, resurrection. Those represent what you might call our ‘working understanding’ of the Bible and the life and message of Jesus: that God has presented himself to us through the person of Jesus, who on the cross showed us that God is love, that God is present with us in suffering, and that God sought ultimate justice by submitting to injustice. Yet this could not hold him down, and in the resurrection we find that God is not done with this world, but is in fact, transforming it.

All of this can be understood by the declaration ‘the kingdom of God is at hand’, which was central to the message of Jesus.

That is what we come to the table understanding as central to our life as a faith community.

Perhaps you noticed that the words are somewhat faded. This denotes to us that God is not always obvious in our world, and even how we understand these concepts of God, Jesus, and resurrection are not always cut and dried. There is room for questions, even for doubt, as God is always bigger and beyond our conceptualizations of him, and we all, like Jesus on the cross, experience moments of his absence (indeed, some would say this loss of God is the moment of true faith; for a God who is obviously present requires very little faith). We trust that though presently we ‘see through a glass darkly’, one day we shall see ‘face to face’. So while we may each have differing perspectives on various doctrinal issues, our common core understanding is that we encounter God in and through the person of Jesus, that we seek to be disciples who walk in the way of the cross, and that the resurrection means real hope for people here and now and that we can anticipate one day a new heavens and a new earth, a world where God is ‘all in all’.

If that sounds like a life worth living, or a community worth experiencing – we invite you to pull up a chair and join us.