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.