I Demand that there be Hope

Today I listened to an interview Terry Gross had with Richard Cizik, former vice president of the National Association of Evangelicals on Fresh Air. He would fired in 2008 after an interview with Terry Gross where he stated he could support civil unions for homosexuals. People freaked and Cizik was thrown to the street.

Since then he has started a new organization called the New Evangelical Partnership for the Common Good. Good for you Cizik!

What heartens me is that Cizik is sharing a message of Jesus Christ, of personal salvation, but with an openness to other beliefs and views. He is sharing a message that states equality for all even if he doesn’t agree with their views and practices. Kinda sounds like Roger Williams, except that Cizik is a nice guy and Williams was an s.o.b.

That is all fine and good, but what really heartens me is that Cizik was willing to change and is still willing to change. He may end up in a place where he says that he was wrong about his pro civil union views, or he may end up in a place where he endorses Gay marriage. Regardless, he is willing to change.

This is not a simple thing for many people. There are many radical, tree-hugging, leftists who are so stuck in their views that they may never budge from their claim that by breeding flies we are breeding the potential for more and more wind power (just take some Aunt Jemima syrup, a couple of cardboard strips for wings, some foil, and watch the flies carry you away… thanks Frank for the thought). On the other hand there are many radical, God-loving, flag wearing, gun toting conservatives who will not budge from their claim that the only way to be free is to make sure the government ensures the lack of gun control, throws out anyone who looks foreign, and drops all taxes (screw the poor and the elderly and the weak and the children – they should take care of themselves).

On both sides there are people who are not willing to be moved, to have their ideas challenged, and their minds changed. This is probably one of the biggest struggles and issues in our churches and in our nation, people putting their fingers in their ears and going, la,la,la,la,la. Cizik’s openness to be challenged and change gives me hope. But then again, I could be wrong.

Because I could not stop to read poetry, It kindly stopped for Me...

In my constant effort to make myself a well rounded person (so I can roll with the rest of em’) I have been reading Emily Dickinson. There are a couple of things I need to admit.

First, I was a music major in college. Being a music major meant that I was supposed to practice, practice, learn some theory and history, practice, and practice some more. So I did not have the opportunity to read many of the “great works” of Western literature.

Second, I have never really read any poetry or taken any poetry class in high school or beyond. I’ve read some Wordsworth and some Whitman, but not with a teacher or class to help me sharpen my critical eye.

Third, aren’t guys supposed to hate the touchy, feely poetry kind of stuff? I’m already married so I don’t need to cull Dickinson for poems to put in a note for my beloved – not that I would find much that would be uplifting (I was going to put the famous poem, “Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me…” in a Valentine card, but then thought the better of it).

So I am drifting in a sea of ignorance and a lack of education trying to read and get something out of Dickinson. I have to be honest, it is not easy. Whitman was much easier as was Wordsworth, but Dickinson is so subtle and so profound that I am finding it a little difficult. My hope is that by the time I get to poem 146 I will have gotten used to Dickinson’s style of writing that I will be able to engage at a deeper level.

I am moved slightly by the poems. Something stirs when I read Dickinson, either a sense of peace, or a moment to take a breath, or a sigh. It is not something that I can accurately articulate or describe because I am not completely sure what I am reading. Yet, as with all great works of art, the poems to evoke some kind of reaction even for this untrained snob.

Emily Dickinson is considered (often alongside Whitman) America’s greatest poet and I could have easily have gone my whole life without reading a single line of her poetry. I imagine this is the case for many people. The idea of reading her poetry is daunting, it is as if one must have an English degree to even think about trying to read such works. Yet, if these poems are so great, shouldn’t they be in the hands of the people?

Often the Academy builds walls around great works of art with offerings of the “correct” interpretation making the novice feel small and stupid. I do not disparage the Academy, after all I am very much a part of the Academy. Yet I do disparage the idea that such works of art are beyond the experience of the populous. We need the depth, but we also should feel free to just read and experience and enjoy.

Here is what I think we should do – start putting Dickinson poems on billboards, except probably not the “Because I could not stop for Death” poem. That may give the wrong impression.

Afterthought: For those who are saying, “Hey, this has nothing to do with theology,” I will give you these thoughts. Should the Bible be explained or just placed in the hands of the people? Is their a “correct” interpretation of scripture and/or way to be a Christian, or are there correct ways? Chew on that and stop your moaning.

The End is Near

I realize that I haven’t written a lot about the books that I am reading. That is mainly because I haven’t been reading a lot. Instead I have been polishing my dissertation. I am almost done; I am very, very close. This is good news, but it leads me to wonder – will I continue to post on this blog after I am done? The original purpose of this blog was to be a place for me to think through my doctoral studies, if they are done then what?

Do not fear, I am sure I will continue, but perhaps with a slightly different focus.

Down with Happiness!

I am not a happy Christian. That probably sounds a lot worse than it should, but I am not one of those Christians who is always saying how great it is to worship, to praise, and to love the Lord. I do love the Lord. I love to worship and praise, but that is not the be-all, end-all of my faith.

Beyond that, I am not a happy Christian. More often then not, I look at the negative than the positive. Some of my pastor friends use my approach to life as a benchmark for their mental well-being. If they are more negative than I am, then they need to get help.

There are many places in scripture where people go to find reasons to express joy, but where do people go to express grief, distrust of the world, and the gloom of reality? Where are the Kinkade (painter of light my a--) paintings of the dark night of the soul and the a reference of the first verse of Ecclesiastes, “Futility, Futility, all life is futility”?

There are times when I feel like I’m just not a good Christian because I am not bouncy, happy, and shiny all the time because gosh, I am so luck to be a Christian – shining grin- Yet there are very real times of darkness in everyone’s life. There are very real moments of despair. People face hurt and wounds and in all reality cannot always say that they are just full of the joy of the Lord.

I have my moments of joy, but it is a joy that is shrouded with more of a passion, it is a deep sense of peace that goes beyond stupid happy clappy feelings to a real sense of what it means to be redeemed and what I can do now that I am redeemed.

I also have my angst and ennui and brooding. That is what I get for wearing black and having artistic qualities (music, music, music). People should feel joy, but those who are hurting need to know that God is with them even more. Pain leads to isolation, isolation leads to despair. Yet if one were to read Lamentations, then one would know that there are others who have felt pain, hurt, and despair. If others have felt it, if such experiences are in scripture and are not condemned, then maybe such feeling shown to be a true part of one’s faith.

So I will surround myself with the Psalms of despair (22, 13, 139), I will cloak myself with Lamentations, with Jeremiah, and with Ecclesiastes. Let the tears fall, let the weeping be heard, and let the sighs of despair overwhelm the shallow, forced happiness that so many assume is the proper path of faith.

Afterthought: do not despair, I will not go “Silvia Plath, Jack Kerouac, Eugene O’Neil” on the world with my despair. It is couched in a healthy way with the hope and the grace of Christ. Camus, Sartre, and Marx miss so much of life without faith. I realize that and embrace it. So don’t worry (Mom!), I’m ok, You’re ok, we’re ok.

Never Liked 'em Before

I’m currently reading, Becoming a Healthier Pastor by Ronald W. Richardson. This is one of those, “professional advancement” books that I read, i.e. it is not very exciting, not very deep, but reminds me of some of the basic things I need to remember in my ministry. Every once and a while I actually learn something new – do you see why the blog is called “theosnob”?

But I digress. The basic focus of Richardson’s work is using family systems theory with the pastor so that he or she will have a better sense of self and be able to navigate relationships without being hurt, burnt, or enmeshed.

Yes, yes, yes, family systems theory is very good, and helpful, blah, blah blah. I’m not going to write about that. What if such an approach is applied to our faith tradition? For example, what if I looked at the history of the Baptist movement. I would consider the aversion to authority, the strained relationship with Methodists and Episcopalians, and the common response to conflict as to flee.

What if I were to apply such a theory to Christianity. I would note the nationalistic push that often occurs, the air of superiority, and the desire to make everyone fall in line with their own way of thinking. I would also note the service, the humility and the care, but these, I would argue, are secondary trends.

When Christians have to interact with other faiths, such a history may be useful to remember. We need to remember that in our past we have condemned those different from us or attempted to convert them. We need to remember that we often assume we are right even when we are not. We need to remember that our relationships with others (and even with ourselves) has not been positive.

I know, I am brushing with broad strokes – don’t get in a fit about all the great lovey-dovey things about Christianity that I am missing. The point is, we can look at the relationships in our past and learn something about how we will most likely interact with others in the future. We are not predestined to continue to behave in the same way (unless you are a hyper-Calvinist or a mathematical determinist….either stance is gloomy). We can learn from our past actions and try to change in the future.

How do you do this with a whole movement? Beats me.

From Whence Comes the Experience?

I have finally finished reading William James’ The Varieties of Religious Experience. I can see why so many people have referenced such a work and held it in high esteem. Considering all of the experts that have gone over James’ work I am in no way going to assume that I understand every nuance after my first reading (this is my way of wussing out so no one can say I missed something).

James finds the experience of the individual as that which holds the greatest importance when speaking of religion. From the experience derives the doctrines. There is a great diversity of people, thus there is a diversity of experiences, thus there is a diversity of religions to meet the diversity of people and the diversity of experiences. Did you follow all that? Here is what I understand to be James’ conclusion of the religious experience.

“I’m sad”

BANG - {{RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE}} - FLASH

“I now see life and myself differently! I’m no longer sad!”

Yet what precipitates the “bang?” What brings on that religious experience? James, being a good secular humanist (although I think he claims to be a Christian - Hauerwas claims James is a humanist) claims that the subconscious is involved. He do not rule out the presence or the existence of God, the subconscious is connected with God, or the other, or that which is greater than can be conceived, or something. But why? Is it for survival (James spends plenty of time on this)? How is that experience articulated? It is ineffable and cannot be articulated.

Here is where I wonder if James is missing something. Here is where all that reading of Lindbeck, McClendon, Hauerwas, and Wittgenstein have corrupted me (or saved me). I would argue that a religious experience does not happen in a vacuum, but in the context of a community. When one is raised in a community, that person is given the language to have an experience. There is diversity in these experiences, yet they have a unifying core from the community.

We teach that we are sad. We teach that we need something else. We show and tell people how to prostrate themselves at the altar, how to weep, how to wave their hands in the air, and how to show contrition. If we were in a Zen Buddhist we would not have a similar reaction to a religious experience. Instead we would have a moment of -------------
Get it? People have preferences. People will react in different ways, but overall their reactions and their experience is shaped by a community.

What about the non-believer who picks up a Bible and converts? He or she must have had some brush with the Christian movement. The act of reading a Bible brings one into contact with the Christian community.

So, with all that said, here is my conclusion.

James – Good
Community – Very Good
Religious Experience – ummm it depends on the community

You want me to read the Bible?!

A couple of Sundays ago I referred to Baptists as, “people of the book,” connecting to the sola scriptura aspect of Protestantism that Baptists have traditionally embraced. If asked what the authoritative source of one’s theology, most Baptists would say, “the Bible” (hopefully). Today I received a well articulated e-mail questioning such a claim in my current context; a question that is not without merit. It is usually easy to tell when someone who was raised Southern Baptist or something equally conservative and charismatic enters the sanctuary because they are carrying their own Bible. Most of my folks do not bring a Bible with them to church.

It is common to assume that Main-Line Protestants do not hold scripture with the same sincerity as those described as Evangelical – an assumption that comes out of the emergence of Modernism, and Liberalism, and the emergence of secularism. The assumption holds a good deal of truth which describe, in some part, me. I am not gifted in memorizing “arrow scriptures” i.e. those short, pithy passages used to shoot down ideas you don’t like. I read the Bible, but I haven’t memorized it. I imagine that this is a description of many others in my congregation and around the Northeast.

So how can I claim Baptists as “People of the Book?” First, it is an historical claim. When I make such a claim, I am subtly challenging those who have adopted an aversion to scripture, or who have simply gotten out of the habit of reading, studying, and embracing scripture to reclaim a major part of their heritage. We need not fear the Bible.

Second, I am personally challenging the myopic hermeneutical approach to scripture that has forced out any ability to read the Bible with depth and freedom for the Holy Spirit. Those who tend to embrace Scripture with a loud voice tend to claim that the only way to read the Bible is to read it as inerrant, infallible, and literal. I would claim that the Bible is without error in pointing to the truth of God, but one need not read the text literally to come to such a conclusion. In fact, one can make room for some of the contradictions found in scripture and still see the overall work as infallible in pointing to the truth of God. Note this difference, the text itself is not without error, the truth it points to is without error. So when I claim that Baptists are “People of the Book,” I am doing a similar thing as when I claim that Baptists are an Evangelical people. I am a Baptist, and I embrace these labels, as do other like-minded Baptists that I know. I will not allow the understandings/interpretations to by co-opted by one faction of people who call themselves Baptists.

Third, I am reminding the people that the story of scripture is our story (good ole’ narrative theology). The story of Exodus, the story of the Disciples, the story of Christ is our story. We find ourselves within those stories; we are a people of the book (granted, all Christians can make this claim and I would not begrudge them such).

Can we do better in embracing the Bible? Yes we certainly can. Over a generation of people seem to have left learning about and reading the Bible to Sunday school. As soon one is finished with Sunday school, the Bible collets dust. This is not good. My friend in the e-mail suggested that everyone be given the change to delve into the scriptures in worship, and I think it is a good idea. It is a good idea to give people to opportunity and the challenge to take scriptures seriously, to grow in the Word, and learn more about the story we embrace as Christians.

Here are some theological books to read dealing with this topic: The Bible Tells Them So by Kathleen Boone, Systematic Theology 1 – Ethics, by James McClendon, any work on Baptist history (see previous posts), Fundamentalism and American Culture by Marsden. That should be enough to keep you off the streets.

The Church's Civic Duty?

The other day, after worship, someone referenced an editorial in the fine, fine Providence Journal by Julia Steiny about the current state of education. I have only been able to read the article briefly (gasp), but my understanding is that schools have to spend so much time focusing on tests, science, math, and language arts (painting with words?) that teachers no longer have the time to teach citizenship and civic duties. The lack of such an education leads to a lessening of society, a dwindling of respect, and knowledge of political process among other things. Such a premise may or may not be true (I do think she has a point), but that is not the point of this posting.

If schools are no longer able to teach civic responsibility, etc., then I wondered if that is something churches should teach, or at least inform people about. There are some factions of Christianity that already embraces this idea whole-heartedly. These are the people who tell the members of the congregation how to vote and who to vote for, will sing “God Bless America” and say the pledge of allegiance during worship. The home-schooled children who are brought up to be active participants in the political system in order to co-opt the system in the name of Christian Fundamentalism. They teach a certain kind of civic responsibility.

I disagree with the content of the message my more conserative, fundimentalist brothers and sisters push, but am not sure I disagree with the method. Churches are to be formative communities, shaping the grammar and worldview of the individual. There is a specific language or jargon to being a Christian, and part of the role of the community is to teach and shape the individual in that language. If we do not have a shared language, then we will not have a shared faith; it would be completely personal and private.

If this is the case, then is it not the responsibility of the church community to shape and inform one’s role as a citizen? We may say that the government should take care of the least of society (or at least some may say this), but why? As Christians we can turn to the prophets, or the teachings of Jesus, or other parts of the Bible and claim that as an authoritative source of our claim. Nonbelievers may have other reasons, philosophical or otherwise, and that will shape the actions and beliefs of those individuals. We vote for the person who will work towards the society that we embrace as a Christian. That individual does not have to be a Christian, but hold to some of the same ends (I recognize this opens up another can of worms, but one thing at a time). We read the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution with a particular lens, while others will have a different lens.

The challenge is walking that fine line of allowing our faith to inform our civic duties and imposing our views as they are informed by our faith on others. This is a challenge of post-modernity, embracing the idea that there is not one proper or appropriate way to view things.

With all of that said, I believe that the church does have a responsibility to teach civics and civil responsibilities from a faith perspective. We need to be careful that we always understand that the government is a flawed system and will never match up to the Kingdom of God, but it is what we have now, and we are living with it. Or, to put it in other terms, it is a mad, mad world and we are all living in it.

Pointing the Finger

The BP oil spill continues to devastate the environment. The economy continues to drag on and people continue to be out of work. The costs of healthcare continues to climb. Politicians continue to focus more on cutting each other down instead of helping people. So many things are going wrong with the world and we (the public) often finds ourselves asking who is to blame.

Take the oil spill. We want to know who is to blame for all of the destruction that is happening and that will continue to happen. We blame BP because it is their drill. We blame the producers of the rig. We blame the government agency for not providing proper oversight. We blame the president for not acting angry or swiftly enough. We blame our drive and desire for oil. We blame the super-sized cars eating up all of the oil. We blame Henry Ford for developing and selling the automobile. We blame Eli Whitney for developing the idea of interchangeable parts and mass production (say nothing of the cotton gin). We blame the dinosaurs for providing all the oil. We look for someone or something to blame.

So often when I work with the bereaved they look for answers. They want to know “why” their loved one died. They want to know the reason, the cause, and if possible the person to blame. It is as if they believe their grief will lesson if they can cast blame. The person will still be dead. The pain will still be there.

I am not suggesting that we shouldn’t look for a cause of the leak. We should do everything we can to be sure that someone of this nature never happens again. There is a degree of accountability that needs to be brought to question. Yet we cannot steep in the blame game. Humanity is broken and bad things happen. They happen because of negligence, greed, selfishness, or for no reason. What we need to do is to ask what we should do next. What should we do with such a tragedy?

When someone grieving asks me “why,” all I can say is, “I don’t know.” I don’t believe that God has a finely worked out plan that takes the lives of children and adults, that allows women to be raped and men to be dismembered. I don’t believe that God gives some people cancer and others are destined to die via a heart attack. I believe that bad things happen and we need to work to discern how to live after the bad things happen.

It is easy to just criticize and blame. It focuses our anger on someone. Yet if we believe that God has a well worked out plan, then in the end this is the doing and allowance of God. I didn’t know God hates the Pelican so much.

On the other hand, if we believe that life is a process, that God is working with us through this process then we constantly have to ask ourselves, what next? This is more difficult, but I believe truer to the nature of God and more honest about human accountability.


Theological ideas come from: Process Theology, John Caputo’s the Weakness of God, Pinnock’s The Openness of God, and as a straw man Calvin and Reformed Theology. Happy Reading!

Sharing Myself

Yesterday, after preaching, someone mentioned to me how the sermon was something she really needed to hear. I replied by stating that it was something that I needed to hear as well. The idea that the pastor needs to hear the very sermon that he or she is preaching may seem suspect to many. After all, how can we offer an answer if we are standing right next to those who are asking the questions? How can we be the voice of authority if we are also struggling with the people?

Such questions assume much. When I preach, I may “know” the answer (path, possibility, etc) intellectually, and yet at the same time I may not have embraced the answer (path, possibility, etc.) in my heart. I know what I am to do, but have not yet the strength or faith to do it. Lord, help my unbelief!

Perhaps most of the work we do is autobiographical. My dissertation is focused on Baptist ordination. Isn’t it interesting that I am an ordained Baptist pastor? My sermons often look at the presence of Christ in our lives. Isn’t it interesting that I often look for Christ’s presence in my life? My work is autobiographical (to a degree).

So I am assuming that my experiences, questions, and struggles are not private or unique. I am assuming that other pastors wonder what it means to be ordained. I am assuming that other people struggle spirituality as I do. I am also taking a risk, and making myself vulnerable to a degree. I am not sharing all of my issues directly, but I am inviting people into my thoughts and feelings.

I think we should all be honest about our work, however that manifests. Either we are expressing something of ourselves, or we are disingenuous with our lives. In the end, the last thing I want to be is someone who is aloof, with a superior attitude, and pretends to know all the answers. No one likes a know-it-all.

Withered Grass

Just finished reading Leaves of Grass. It is a very good collection of profound poetry. Now back to Harry Potter....

Don't be Happy, Convert!

For fun I have slowly been working through James’ Varieties of Religious Experience with a friend of mine. We have read about conversions and saintliness and I had a thought. For conversion to occur, someone’s life must be altered. Or, in another way, those who are comfortable and satisfied with life cannot experience conversion. Something must happen to convince the person that the current life is inadequate and something greater must be strived for (or live in despair and agony).

So, it is good to have troubles, sufferings, and qualms. They may lead to a religious life. Or they may lead to a lot of bitching and moaning.

A Dry Baptism

Today, Pentecost, we had baptisms. They are always wonderful events to witness and to take part it; it is a true privilege of the office to officiate a baptism. This afternoon, I was thinking, “how can I make something so wonderful and powerful dry and academic?” This is what scholars do, right?

A baptism is not something that is personal or individualistic. It is a witness and at the same time a communal experience. Consider this through an apophatic and cataphatic experience. The cataphatic (more or less, a positive view of the event) finds meaning in the symbol of the water, in the full immersion, and in the commitment made by the individual. This is not only symbolic for the individual, but is also symbolic for the community. The water reminds the congregation of the cleansing and commitment they made in their baptism. The immersion reminds the congregation of their own immersion and their new life in Christ. All of the symbols in the service point to something greater than the act, the baptisms that many have encountered in the past, the commitments made, and the life found in Christ.

The apophatic reminds us that baptism is much more than a commitment or an immersion. The water is powerful, but does not capture all that a baptism is about. Even the baptism itself is about more than just a commitment, more than can be articulated. The actions of Christ is greater and beyond what we can know. As the congregation observes a baptism they are reminded that the event as well as their own baptism connects them with something powerful that cannot be articulated.

When looked at in this way baptism is a powerful moment. Even non-sacramental Baptists can be aware of the presence and the power of a baptism; what can be claimed and what cannot because it is greater than that which we can know.

Is that dry enough?

Spontaneous Ritual

I recently received a link to this video

It is a great satire of a contemporary trend in Christian worship. It is a fairly honest critique at a style of worship that often describes itself as free of old church liturgy, led by the Holy Spirit, and removed from any ritual or formula. It is good to watch and laugh with a bit of smug satisfaction.

The same video could be made of more “classical” services – except we know that we are ridged and formulaic. It could also be made of my prayers, or of my sermons. We are creatures of habit. I remember in a worship class I took the professor stated that we tend to create our own liturgy and stick to it even when we don’t want to. This was why he felt a pre-written liturgy, prayers and all, is good. At least then we know some thought went into the worship service. I wonder if he is right.

On the other hand there needs to be room for spontaneity and the movement of the Spirit in worship. Last Sunday, during worship, a woman had a medical “incident” in the service and had to be carried out of the sanctuary. The flow of the service was not interrupted and we could have carried as if nothing happened. Yet something happened and I felt it was important to take a risk and break out of the norm. We prayed in a place where a prayer was not prescribed. It was a prayer that was very aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit.

We are creatures of habit. We will find ourselves doing the same things again and again, yet we need to always be open to the calling and the movement of the Holy Spirit. This says the young, hip guy with a printed tee-shirt, hip glasses, and tattoos.

Is Propaganda the Only Way?

Can a community experience a conversion? Last night I was discussing James’ lectures on Conversion from Varieties of Religious Experience with a good friend of mine and we wondered such a question out loud. It seems that James is focusing on the experience of the individual in his discussion of conversion, but what about a community?

On the one hand people tend to join a community because they have already grasped a certain truth that is shared by all those in the community. A community may be the product of individual conversions and then is the place were people live into the new life found by conversion. On the other hand, it is not unheard of for a community to shift in its values and ethos. For example, the Republican party of the 1860s if very different from the Republican party of today. One could even argue that America as a culture has undergone a number of conversions as it slowly changes. It used to be a culture that embraced slavery and now no longer does.

Yet this gradual conversion is not the one that interests me. Such a conversion seems to happen because of outside influences and cultural trends. What I am wondering about is a sudden conversion of a group. One could say the Sneetches from the Dr. Seuss classic experienced a sudden conversion of sorts when they realized that the stars did not mean anything. Or in a more real observation, the events at Cane Ridge in 1801 was a conversion that shook individuals and a group as the majority of the people there experienced powerful spiritual experiences. Or the Azusa Street phenomenon in 1906 which led to the birth of the Pentecostal Movement is another example of a sudden group conversion.

So I am wondering how something of this nature happens. For those of us in church context, such a question can be very important. The church is a lumbering cruise ship that undergoes snail-like gradual conversions. How does a group, a church experience that sudden, powerful, moving conversion? Is it appropriate for a church to have such an experience? Currently I am skeptical that such a change can happen, but I am willing to be converted in my beliefs.

I'm still here

What have I been doing? I was on vacation at Historical Colonial Williamsburg with the family. Vacation is good, but getting back into the routine on return is difficult. To many piles of papers on my desk and to much work to try to catch up on. With all of that said, I don’t have a lot to write right now, but I wanted all of my loyal readers, the masses and masses of people, to know that I am still around and kicking.

Theological-ish thought – do we communicate our deep meanings of our culture with words/language or with images?

And They'll Know We Are Christians...by the way we Fight, Criticize, and are not Like Others

This past Sunday I did something in my sermon that I normally try to avoid – I directly criticized another group of Christians. Now I have taken my shots at the Fundis and the closed minded bigots, but seldom if never at one specific group. Yesterday I directly criticized Catholicism. The criticism was in reaction to the most recent brew-ha-ha about sexual abuse, cover-up, and denial. I criticized the hierarchy, the idea that the priest is above everyone else, and the all boys club that the hierarchy has become. Some of this criticism came out of a recent Newsweek article, “A Woman’s Place is in the Church” by Lisa Miller. Miller argues that the leadership in Catholicism needs the views and sensitivities of women to keep them honest. So, in talking about the authorities of the church, and how Christianity is often forced and contrived I took a pot-shot at Catholicism.

I did not expect the reaction from the congregation; all positive. Some of it was, I think, from many of the ex-Catholics, and some of it was from the birth-Baptists who were affirming their identity. The point was made, we have freedom in the Baptist movement, and I hope the point was received.

Part of me wishes I could have made that point without criticizing another group of Christians. Protestant America (and Christianity in general) have identified themselves by saying who they are not, and how they are not like those other people. It seems so often that we have an identity of rejection rather than an identity of affirmation. It may be that this is human nature (I think Durkheim said something about this), and this may be a reality that we have to live with. I guess as long as we all agree to hate each other equally, and walk hand in hand towards Christ with an equal amount of criticism launched at each other, then it will be ok (what is the best font to convey sarcasm?).

Be Sad and then Convert… But Don’t Force It

I’m working my way through James’ The Varieties of Religious Experience, and am currently on the chapter(s) about conversion. James has already described the “Healthy Mind” – or the sickening optimist, and the Sick Soul, or the depressed teenager. With conversion, James makes an interesting point quoting Dr. Starbuck... conversion is,

“a process of struggling away from sin rather than of striving towards righteousness.”

He further writes (not quoting Starbuck):

“When the new centre of personal energy has been subconsciously incubated so long as to be just ready to open into flower, ‘hands off’ is the only word for us, it must burst forth unaided!”

These are interesting points about conversion. First, one who is complacent, happy, and satisfied will most likely not convert. Second, conversion is something we cannot force, but we must let happen. Now it is a standard trick of Christianity (especially the evangelical ilk) to convince people why they are sad and why they need Jesus, but the passive waiting for conversion to truly happen is not a gift of most Christians. We preach a sad and sappy sermon about Jesus, then we sing “Just As I Am,” or “Softly and Tenderly,” or some new praisey kind of song again and again until people start coming forward, crying and weeping and ready to give their lives to Jesus (some for the third or fourth time). What James seems to be suggesting is that we cannot force conversion. We have to let it happen in its own time.

If this is the case, then perhaps the best way to convert someone is to convince them that they are sad, and then just invite them into the community to live, and pray, and work with everyone else. If the convictions of the community are true then in time the individual may convert. Can we be that patient with saving souls?

Our Messy Denomination

I thought I would take a break from my conversation with my skeptical friend (he hasn’t written back yet). It is a fun time to be in RI – the rains come down and down and down and down. I’m lucky that I haven’t had much water damage (aside from a leaky roof), but many others aren’t so lucky.

Last week I attended my General Board orientation for the American Baptist Churches/USA. From what I could gather, there are three or four entities floating around, under the name ABC/USA but not having much purpose for connection. There is the office of the General Secretary (OGS), which acts as the presence of ABC in the ecumenical and interfaith contexts as well as in the world (they do other things, but that is a good summary). There is the Board of International Ministries (BIM) which works with foreign missionaries and ministries. There is the Board of National Ministries (BNM) which is focused on ministry here in the States. Finally there are Regional Ministries (RM) which coordination work of the churches and ministries in geographic (kinda) regions. Four different entities all vying for dollars and support. They are all connected through the local churches, but not connected to each other.

Here is how I see it – both BIM and BNM are connected to OGS for the sake of identity. If either board loses its connectional identity with ABC it will be difficult to have continued support from the local churches. OGS needs BIM and BNM in order to speak to ministry that is actually happening. Yet there is no real connection between BIM and BNM – at least thus far. While there are moments of collaboration, they are not necessarily connected. Why is this a problem?

Think of the Trinity. In the Trinity there is a mutual indwelling (perichoresis) between all three parts. Because of this no one part of the Trinity is above any other part of the Trinity. They are all equal.

In the ABC model, it would not be unthinkable for one part of the triad to elevate above another. Or, if one becomes weak, the others would not necessarily have to help. This is not a new problem. It is a problem addressed in 1813, in 1907, in the 60s and continues. If we cannot find a way for BIM and BNM to be necessarily connected, it will continue to be a problem.

Finally we have RM. This is another difficulty that I have not given a lot of thought to. We could move to a quadrilateral or continue the triad with the churches in the middle. I have to think about this for a bit.

Regardless, we have a mess on our hands which is not a bad thing, but could be better.

Of Reading Scripture and Self-Defination: Continuing the Conversation

The conversation with my skeptic friend continues with my response:

It sounds like you should keep wrestling with your relationship with Catholicism, considering your quandary with children. Say you do have your child baptized to appease your family, what then? Will you be there for first communion? What about confirmation? What will you tell your child when he or she asks why you are not involved in the Church? I don’t mean to suggest a level of guilt, but more to consider the implications of your actions. Infant baptism, as I understand it (because we Baptists do not practice it), is a time when the parent(s) are speaking on behalf of the child as to matters of faith. If you find it important to maintain relationships with your family, and if you do not want to be disingenuous with your children and yourself, then you should continue to struggle with these questions. I’m suggesting that you should find a way to justify a continued relationship with the Church, but that you find a place where you can be authentic on as many levels as possible. It is good to work on this now before the issue is real. I know to may parents who ignore the issue until the child is born and the choice is forced. That is just my two cents, you can do what you want with them.


Now, onto the fun questions. First, as to the nature of the church as a place where one defines oneself as who they are not. I think this is the nature of most (if not all groups). My brother used to describe High School pep rallies as moments when a group of kids would gather together and hate a different group of kids. Democrats and Republicans spend a lot of time saying why they are not like each other. When I lived in Dayton one of the ways they described themselves was by saying that at least they weren’t Springfield Ohio. I think it is a matter of perception. I could describe the Baptists by saying how we are not like others (no bishop, no Pope, no infant baptism, etc.), or I could describe the movement with positive attributes (we have local church autonomy, priesthood of believers, adult/believers baptism, etc.). Neither is wrong. I think you are picking up on what is very often the norm, describing ourselves via the negative. This is not something to be proud of, and I think a symptom of human nature. I’m sure there are a number of sociologists who have looked at this group identity theory in greater detail.

As to the Bible, you are asking a great, great question. First, I don’t think you can read anything literally (except maybe phone books, dictionaries, and legal documents). Can you imagine reading O’Neil, Joyce, Hemmingway, or Dante literally? We take it for granted that there are layers of meaning embedded in the text.

Second, we need to remember that the Bible is a collection of different genres of literature. We would not read creation stories in the same way as we would read a listing of law, or a letter from one person to a community, or stories of people struggling to be in a relationship with God, or songs. A literal reading, at best, is closed-minded, and extremely problematic. I would recommend Kathleen Boone’s book The Bible Tells Them So for a great literary criticism of literal reading (she uses Stanley Fish – whee!).

Yet there is the problem of reading the cannon as a whole. Here is my take. The Bible is a collection of stories, experiences, rules, songs, and reactions of a people trying to understand their relationship with God. These are told through different genres, by different people, and at different times. Yet, I would contend, that they are focus on the same God. Chew on that for a while.

Finally, a great book on a literary/narrative criticism of the Old Testament is Robert Alters’ The Art of Biblical Narrative. Secondly, the scriptures you referenced don’t hold much water and is a forced reading of staying within the text via a literal interpretation.