The downward spiral

First of all, sorry for pulling a Tim.

Second, I think these sorts of conversations are good not just for ironing out theological wrinkles, but for engaging Christ and His Word and for sharpening each other--taking a look at the things that don't sit well with us, and wrestling with them until they either sit well or we just accept what doesn't sit well because Jesus said so.

With that said, here are some of the things that don't sit so well with me in regards to what we've been saying, and I think that the emergent church and Brian McLaren offer some interesting ideas when it comes to them.

The first is the most controversial and life-impacting for me. I have trouble with the verses (apologies for my laziness and lack of due diligence here) that discuss the will of the Father that all men should be saved. Does God's will not get accomplished unless all men are saved? Can not God redeem everything? Is Christ's work on the Cross powerful enough to save everyone? I believe the answer to the last two questions is yes. So the question for me then becomes how to interact with the work of Christ on the Cross to receive said redemption.

The church in the last 100 years has worked out a very well oiled, polish-me-often version of what Christianity is. We can shrink the Gospel down to fit on a tract that looks real neat and makes a lot of sense. The only problem with this is, what of the years before that? What of our pre-tract brothers and sisters who didn't engage with Christ in the same manner as we do now? With a flatter world today, we can engage in these types of conversations virtually instantaneously and open up the Bible and see what it says, perform a search in BibleGateway and no big deal. This has no always been the case.

When reading the Ramakrishna quote I immediately thought of our family not too many centuries back who were told that heaven could be bought, that relics were of extreme importance, etc. Is there really an entire era of Christendom where there are potentially no persons on the planet who managed to accept Christ in the way that we've come to believe is the "only way" and they are judged accordingly?

In software engineering, there are several different lifecycles for developing an application or program. One of those is the waterfall process, which essentially starts out at the beginning, and continually makes steps toward the final goal, very chronological, and you keep building on and on to the work accomplished until you've reached the final goal. The spiral process combines multiple waterfall processes in a long string of iterations until the final goal is reached, continually revising, making updates, adding new functionality. The main difference is with the first you essentially keep barreling forward with what you have, and the second is a little more like poetry in motion, enabling you to fix mistakes and figure new things out.

It seems as though Christians especially seem to view Christianity through the lens of a Waterfall, that we've been continually working toward one final theological goal and that we've finally figured it out. This is the secret. Here's how you MUST engage the Savior. For the most part, I think we've made great strides in understanding the gospels and who Christ is. What I don't like is the formulaicness (I believe if you can talk, you can coin words. Deal with it) of it all. I think a lot of the reason Jesus told parables was not to sum up the gospel in 4 nice little sentences so that people would know it and understand it, but to confuse the hell out of people (including his disciples) so that they were forced to engage the person of Jesus himself, not meet some list of criteria.

I, in recent history, have appreciated a spiral approach to the gospel, which, incidentally, McLaren (though conscious of it or not) used in one of his diagrams to show how the emergent church will move forward. Imagine a circle. On the left hand side is the word NORMALCY. The status quo, the way things are. As you move clockwise around the circle, the next word is DISCONTENT. Whenever things reach a stasis, inevitably something will come along that causes us to challenge that normalcy. We become discontent. This will lead to a CONVERSATION, where we find that people around us are not happy about the way things are either. This leads to the DECONSTRUCTION of the way things were previously understood (or misunderstood), taking us back to the essentials (and sometimes challenging the present essentials as in the case of a Marin Luther-esque reformer). Wrestling through these ideas and concepts lead to an AWAKENING or fresh perspective about how things can be viewed. This will lead to a BREAKTHROUGH in how life is lived, in how people are engaged, and sometimes in how Christ is engaged (thankfully). Eventually this new way of thinking or understanding becomes the status quo, the new norm, and we begin the entire cycle again at NORMALCY. Just think of the circle as not a circle, but instead a spiral.

I've always been amazed at how the church continually course-corrects itself. Almost any other institution will implode when opposing radical factions attempt control. The church has a way of getting a little too far off course and then coming back to the middle, although sometimes this may take a couple centuries for it to happen. I think we don't have to be scared of the emergent church, but to look honestly at some of the discontents that people have, the conversations that follow, and be willing to engage people where they are, with their full on doubts and concerns about God the Father. If nothing else, they are providing fresh perspectives and creative ideas to look at and evaluate, and course correct if necessary.

So back to my main point, are there centuries during this course correcting phase of the spiral where people who don't "think rightly about God" or "worship the image of God" (and here take image to mean not a statue or stained glass window as much as their perception of who God is) are eternally condemned for truly giving it their all, for trying their best. Is that really the God we serve? And what of the ones who say "Lord, Lord" and God replies, I never knew you, but God recognizes the ones who took compassion on the least of these? Sounds like it could potentially be more about social justice and being a good person than what I was raised to think (and here I'm not specifically referring to salvation as much as what engaging the person of Jesus really looks like, less about knowing an answer or formula and more about doing instead...)

We're gonna have to save some other stuff for another day, but with all that said, I believe that Jesus had to die on the cross as the Substitute for our sin. He taught a better way to live, without focusing on self, so that you can make the world a better place for it's and His sake, and also for your own. It is only through this work on the Cross that any man can come to know the Father. But like I said, these are the things that don't sit well with me. This is my way of engaging who Jesus is and who He said He is.

I've always liked how Isaac says, "All I know of me toward all I know of You," and wished it was a Bible verse. But it's not, and so I have to deal with the ramifications of what that means for my own personal doctrine. Tolstoy brings up a good point, though...(which hopefully makes sense without the preceding doctrinal support to back up this statement, from his book "The Kingdom of God is Within You")

"The progress toward perfection of the publican Zaccheus, of the woman that was a sinner, of the robber on the cross, is a greater state of blessedness, according to this doctrine, than the stationary righteousness of the Pharisee. The lost sheep is dearer than ninety-nine that were not lost. The prodigal son, the piece of money that was lost and found again, are dearer, more precious to God than those which have not been lost.

Every condition, according to this doctrine, is only a particular step in the attainment of inward and outward perfection, and therefore has no significance of itself. Blessedness consists in progress toward perfection; to stand still in any condition whatever means the cessation of this blessedness."

Regardless of the reality of these matters, I want to be someone who is making continual progress toward the person of Jesus, not remaining stagnant or standing still.

Where's the beef?...

It's with Brian McLaren and the emergent church movement.

Some of you are gonna think, "Great, he's gone fundamental on us." No, I've just read a lot and talk to a lot of people who know a thing or two--some who are even studiers (if that's a word) of pop-culture, so they're immersed in it and up to date on everything.

First off, Brian McLaren has called God a chick. Seriously? I don't care the context, that's a little blasphemous. He also doesn't see what the big deal about substitutionary atonement is. What the big deal about it?!?!?! It's only Jesus, son of God, putting his body up on a cross, allowing mockers, scorners, and even deserters kill him so that these people--if they choose to trust in him as their savior--might spend eternity with him in Heaven. But hey, Jesus dying for our sins isn't THAT big of a deal.

And what about Hell? He doesn't believe that Hell exists! But, you know what? If I didn't believe that Jesus died for my sins and I had a chance to spend eternity in Heaven, I wouldn't want to believe in a Hell either. Because then I would know where I was going.

Since I mentioned the emergent church, I guess I better say something about that. Their whole focus is social issues. Meeting people where they are, and loving them where they are. Did you catch that? I stopped at loving them where they are. The next step should be to bring them into a full understanding of who Christ is and what he did for them. We can't fix people's lives. We can't make people stop sinning. Heck, humans aren't even capable of not sinning--not without the Holy Spirit. The problem is, they don't want to cause conflict, but want everyone to live in harmony with one another. The only way to do that is to say that we're all doing our best, trying to live good moral lives. I'll help you where I can, you help me, and at the end of the day we'll have a group hug.

The big problem is that we've become a "soft" society. We're afraid to confront someone and tell them they're wrong. We don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. So what do we do? "That's good if that works for you."

I agree. McLaren and his friends have said some "good things." But that's about it. Their theology is totally whack.

If you want to know where their thinking comes from--because it's in no way brand new--read some Schliermacher (the official Father of Liberalism) or Rousseau (read his Confessions, a response to Augustine's). They both claimed that the individual is inherently good, but it's society that ruins us. But what's society made up of? Think about that one.

I don't want anyone to think I'm angry, because I'm not. I just fear that our church is going to end up as a feel good mush of your thoughts on religion, my thoughts on religion, mix them together and we'll have a group thought on religion. Because one of the big points of the emergent church is that you're not allowed to talk about disagreements on religious stuff.

Anyway, any thoughts on this, good or bad, post them. Like I said, I'm not going all Fundy. I've just done some research and have taken a stance.

I am an atheist

Last saturday I was at an Emergent conference with Brian McLaren in Tampa for a couple hours.

Strange.

This was one of the worship songs. It may have been stranger live. There was a full on public responsive confession about being sorry for driving cars and putting concrete on God's green earth (and i'm sure almost everyone there used both of them in order to be at the conference).

It was weird not feeling comfortable participating in a worship service because I felt almost the opposite of what was being taught. With most doctrinal issues, I have a bit of respect and reverence for the tradition that landed them where they are, e.g., during the catholic service at the basilica in Cartago, I wanted to partcipate in the service as best I could.

I appreciate a lot of what the emergent church is bringing to the table and to the public's attenttion and some of the reforms they are seeking for Christendom, even though they would probably reject the term. After attending this conference, though, it was so bohemian and just plain weird that it really made me think a little more closely about the words I say during worship songs and responsive creeds. About not taking the Lord's name in vain--literally attaching no value to the words you are saying.

Ramakrishna's can of worms

I'll try to keep this short. And it's not my intent to open a can of worms by asking for thoughts on this, but I found this interesting and thought provoking at least.

I just recently finished J.D. Salinger's "Franny and Zooey" (which I love by the way) and in there he drops a quote from "The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna" as follows.

"Sir, we ought to teach the people that they are doing wrong in worshipping (sic) the images and pictures in the temple."
Ramakrishna: "That's the way with you Calcutta people: you want to teach and preach. You want to give millions when you are beggars yourselves....Do you think God does not know that he is being worshipped in the images and pictures? If a worshipper should make a mistake, do you not think God will know his intent?"

Expository Suppository

Ok, I was just going to put this as a comment to Josh's but I think I'm going to pull a Tim...

First off, you have to remember that God also called Job blameless at the beginning. Yes, Job was unaware of this since it took place in Heaven, but it still happened. Yes, it was because of the Law and culture and stuff. He knew he was a sinner and condemned under the Law [we forget this, but many Israelites understood that they were condemned under the Law and were eagerly awaiting the coming of Messiah. Imagine knowing that salvation is not yet your's! Is that depressing or hopeful of things to come?]. But not only was he obedient to the Law in every way, he also did not curse God for any of the things that happened to him.

(possible spoiler, Josh)I also love God's response. Nowhere in it does he answer any of Job's questions or complaints. His entire monologue is simply stating that he is the God of the universe, and therefore in control of all things. But he doesn't just declare his glory and leave it at that. He let's Job respond. Job says, "Oh crap! I'm scared!" and then ducks down into the 'tornado drill' position (head between legs, kiss ass goodbye). Then God tells him that he's not getting away that easily. He will not only have book knowledge (from the Law) of who God is, but will understand in his core the total awesomeness and wonder of the Lord. So God declares one more time his power. Job's answer shows that he finally understands who God is and his own relation to God: "My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes."

One of the last things God does in this story is really cool. Job's friends all tried to find fault in Job. So to prove to them that Job was actually blameless, God had them present a sacrifice in Job's presence, and then had Job pray for them! How about them apples? I won't even go into what all this means for prayer, because, to be honest, I haven't figured that one out yet.

I recently read some of Julian of Norwich. She was on her death bed and then was miraculously healed and had a huge "God moment." She realized how good God's ways are even when we don't see it at the moment. She then penned the phrase "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." Think about that one for a bit.

And while you're doing that, get a copy of "Devotional Classics" by Richard Foster. It's a compilation of some great stuff by people like Julian of Norwich, Thomas Merton, John of the Cross, Bernard of Clairvaux, Henri Nouwen, Gregory of Nyssa, Francis of Assisi, Watchman Nee, and a butt load of other people that make me feel lame.

Lessons from Job

A while back (like I think Dan was still in college), Dan was talking about reading straight through the Bible. I don't know if he literally challenged me to do it too, but I know somehow I felt that I wanted to. To show how dedicated I am, I am already on Job. It's only been like 2.5 years. I am a super Christian.
but this is neither about my awesomeness, nor my inability to read quickly. It's about Job.
When I got to Esther, I was amazed, and LOVED it. It's one of the most ironic books ever I think. So then Job was next. Honestly, I was so bored by the idea of reading such a long book and having to force myself through it. But I read the Bible commentary intro and it helped so much. It said that you simply cannot read Job as a story. Then entire plot is in the first two and the last few chapters. But it is considered some of the finest writing, with long, eloquent speeches, and a whole lot of character development.
So I read it differently than I've read any other book. And I loved it. That's not to say that there weren't yawn moments, but really it's great. Here's some things I learned:
-Job was IN GOD's FACE! He said speech after speech against God, and called God out onto the carpet.
-Job's friends reacted JUST LIKE tons of people in the church today would (and maybe myself included). They said he was disrespectful. They said that there is NO WAY he could be blameless. That it was OBVIOUS that God saw something wrong in him.
-Still Job claimed to be blameless. That is such a HUGE statement. There is no chance I would ever make that claim. (Chin, you're in seminary. Does this have anything to do with him being in the Old Testament and having followed their laws? Is that any different than the way we function today).
-I knew God would show up in the end, but I couldn't really remember how, so I was really quite excited to see that happen. I'm not totally done with God's response, but I love that he was (1) so dang patient to respond (2)says to Job "Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you will answer me." (can you imagine if God spoke to you like that- pee ALL DOWN MY LEG at that point.) (3) is SO DANG SARCASTIC (ch38 v21 when talking about creation "Surely you know, for you were already born! You have lived so many years". HAHA that is amaaazing

Still, the single most amazing thing is the parallel with people in the church today that always attribute suffering to sin.

I could go on, BUT I don't want to get a reputation like Tim... going on and on all the time :) I love you Tim.

Lawrence Pauli.

Lane made me cry for the second time today.

In high school we were never that good of friends, but we played football and soccer together, and though we didn't hang out a lot, I would still have considered him a good friend. One night at a JV football game, my fellow classmate was injured. He was an all-star fullback and I was on the sidelines where I spent most of my time that year. I thought I'd be nice and help him into the ambulance, since he couldn't move himself. As he got in, he looked me in the eye and said, "thank you", and for whatever reason, that moment etched itself into my brain. Not long after that my dad had some business at his father's funeral home and I sat in the car outside reading the sign and thinking about Lane's comment to me, eyes welling up with tears. For some reason those two words meant so much to me. How could someone in such excruciating pain and unable to move have the presence of mind to think about someone else? It was (is) a powerful picture to me of how selfish I was (am) and how gratitude and unselfishness goes a long way.

Today at his funeral, I cried again. I didn't expect to. After all, we weren't that good of friends, but as I heard stories about his life, enjoyed and lived to the full, spent in reckless pursuit of happiness for himself and his friends, as I saw pictures of the kid that he was, of the man that he grew into, of the wife and kids he leaves behind, as I listened to my best friend from 15 years ago comment on how in a year, we'll all be back for our 10 year reunion and it's a shame that in the past nine years, this is the event that would bring us together--as all these events happened around and within me, I rejoiced and mourned. It was terribly sad that his life was cut short. It was gut wrenching as his widow placed her solitary red rose atop the coffin and leaned over and kissed it as if kissing him for the last time, her legs barely able to support her. It was interesting to watch the stoic face of a man who's lifetime has been surrounded by planning events like the one he was in attendance at today, to wonder what was in his mind, what it was like to be on the other side.

I have been thinking about life some. About legacy. About if that were my funeral, who would be there? What would be said? Would people remember me as the lecherous, selfish, diffident, and often timorous boy that I often feel like, or would the tragedy or such an event leave people searching for something good to hold on to, something positive to justify this outrage? Lane compared life to a blank art canvas, that anything you can dream, you can create. As I reflected on my canvas, it still seems mostly blank. I feel as if I've spent years getting the paints ready, beginning to mix colors and pick out paintbrushes, training and preparing to one day put some of that paint to use. The scribbles and chicken-scratches that are on my canvas don't quite make sense, don't point to the larger picture, don't hint at what is yet to come.

I recently mocked an older gentleman speaking to our demographic when he used death as an impetus for us to think about life. Most of my friends and myself included don't think about death that often. I leave that to my parents and their parents to think about. They're the ones that are close, not me.

Lane reminds me that our time here is not permanent. My friend who has the same disease his sister died of a little over a year ago reminds me that we are only here for a little while longer. I want to engage this life as though it were special, as though I was living simultaneously for the moment and eternity.

I want to start painting.