Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Job and the Church

Job. What an intense book. 42 chapters of straight misery. Not only is the guy deprived of everything, covered in boils, and left to die, but he spends his time around 4 guys and his wife that offer him no consolation. Or do they?

I mean, sure they say a lot of good things. They talk about God's kindness. They speak doctrinal truths about God being righteous and human beings fallen. They try their best to lead Job to "repentance" and to a happier life.

Then you've got Job. He does nothing but curse and yell. He demands answers from God, declares his innocence a thousand times over and condemns his friends for their words. He sulks and screams.

But, in the end, God honors Job and dismisses his friends. God states that Job was righteous through this whole thing and that his friends were wrong. In the end, it was Job's sacrifices and prayers that spared his friends from God's burning anger.

Does this seem strange? It might. It certainly did to the people of the time. I mean these people were taught that God punishes sin and wickedness, that those born with handicaps and those inflicted with diseases were so because of their own evil. Further, there was cultural stigma to evil. Sin, evil was unclean and affected the surrounding area of its stead. You've heard "bad company corrupts good morals" but this was just the beginning of the cultural stigma of sinful people.

Even to our eyes, though, it seems a bit strange that the guy who complained and cursed God would be uplifted in the end as righteous. Meanwhile, his good friends who preached to him, quoted scriptures, and did their best to convict him and guide him to God are condemned.

I think there's an incredibly important message here. Putting myself in Job's shoes, I realize exactly what he's saying. Here I am feeling forgotten by God, having everything torn from me...I'm pleading with God to give me some kind of response, to restore me, to just throw me a bone. Then, my friends chime in and say, "You know, Troy, God only punishes people because they're evil. That's obviously the problem. You should repent." I can imagine my response being pretty similar to Job's in saying "How long will you torment me and crush me with words?" or "Indeed, I know that this is true. But how can a mortal man be righteous before God?"

I see myself, covered in boils, grabbing these guys by the collar and screaming "You think? I've spent the last week, day and night, pleading with God, begging God to show me my error so that I can repent. I suppose you're right though, maybe I should try being a better person. Maybe I've missed something in my straight 40 hours of praying...since I can't sleep with the pain of the boils."

Then, how do the friends respond? They give him proverbs and promises. They tell him that he doesn't really understand God and if he just understood what they got so perfectly, he would be saved...because God saves those who repent and remain righteous. "If you return to the Almighty, you will be restored: If you remove wickedness far from your tent...the Almighty will be your gold...then you will find delight in God." It's like they're saying "Troy, John 3:16...Troy, read Romans 8 again...Troy pray more and learn to trust in God....Troy Corinthians says that you have to rejoice all the time, despite your trials....Troy Jesus said that if you seek you will find, so just seek."

Then Job replies, as I'm sure I would "I have heard many things like these; miserable comforters are you all! Will your long-winded speeches never end?" It's like he's saying "No crap, Sherlock! You think I don't know this stuff? Stop with the endless, empty platitudes and just listen to me, just sympathize with me. Love me. Pray for me."

Does any of this sound familiar? Interestingly enough, Job is supposedly the first recorded book of the Jewish Scriptures. So, long before God saw any need to explain beginnings or the Israelite nation, wars, floods, any of that...God wanted people to understand this story.

I get 2 distinctive messages from this story. The first is that God loves our questions. He wants us to scream out, rather than close up; to pour out our hearts, rather than sit still in silence and reverence. Part of "seeking God with all our hearts" is laying everything on the table, holding no emotion or thought back regardless of its apparent "holiness" or "wickedness" in our eyes.

The second message is equally important and I truly believe it is one of the biggest issues in the church today. How do we relate to people in love? We are called to many things: to disciple, to love, to serve, etc. But, how? What is our role in this whole process?

I think we can learn from Job, that our role is not conviction, our role is not to judge and convict people. That is God's position. I believe that in desiring to convict people, we not only screw up something that only God can do right but we steal from and interfere with God's doing it. Certainly we are called to discern, to be wise. We are also called to counsel, to confront people in love. But, that is not by spouting verses or by giving mini-sermons on how God works. First, we should have the humility to know that we truly cannot know the mind of God. That being said, our approach should be as fellow struggler, as partner, as equal. Not that we can't offer advice and wisdom, but that we should be ever so careful not to interfere, ever so careful to not mix loving advice with judgemental pride.

Our main priority, I believe, our main responsibility is to compassion. God convicts hearts. God restores, God awakens, God regenerates. Our job is to come alongside. To aid in whatever way possible. Whether our friend is a Christian or an atheist or...whatever...the response should be the same: honest, humble, and loving compassion. A love that seeks to understand and sympathize. A love that truly seeks restoration. A love that admits shortcomings, honestly and openly. This means that my first response to a person who says they feel disconnected from God or that they're angry at God, or any number of other spiritual or emotional crises, should be to understand. To remember when I was in that place, to know that I probably will be in that place again in the near future. Not to grab for a doctrine or verse, but to really listen before saying a word.

I believe God will break open our influence, enlarge our ability to love and help people as we listen to the words of Job. As we seek compassion and benevolance, God will not only gift it to us in overwhelming amounts, but will teach us how to act in love. Not that we forsake the extreme value of these tenets and Scriptures, but that we listen first, that we understand and embrace, so that God may have the victory in convicting, in romancing, in calling all of us to himself.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

How do I read the Bible?

I've been researching for the past few months for a big honkin paper I have to write and it's all centered around the Bible. That being said, I've spent hours looking at biblical texts, seeking out answers to various academic questions. Am I, then, using the Bible to my own end of writing a defendable paper?

I'm searching for "truth" but not necessarily the kind of truth that's going to form me into a better person, that's going to place me more in line with biblical morality. Rather, I'm trying to write a strong paper and make defendable points.

People do this all the time in academia, art, business. Pastors do it when they write sermons to an extent.

What about the marketing of Bibles? Christian bookstores sell a Bible for just about everyone in every circumstance; "Teen Study", "Nursing Mothers", "Men Who Eat Chocolate On Tuesdays." What about biblical iconography? Or the protestant Bibles of the 18-19th centuries with more bling than T-Pain's cadillac?

Is it right? Is there a "proper", "God-honoring" way to read the Bible? Are there lines and boundaries to be drawn (and where)?Or, can the Bible be manipulated and used to yield certain results without the necessary intent of transformation and TRUTH (with a capital 'T')?

Sunday, September 26, 2010

You know you're a Hipster if...

you have an existential experience every time the power goes out.

Just wanted to relay that truth from my own reflection on said experiences, including the 5 minute power-outage at my restaurant last night.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Born Again?

Nichodemus said "Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him."
In reply Jesus declared, "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again."
- John 3.2-3

This little dialogue goes on to talk about what it means to be "Born of the Spirit", to be born again. What does this mean?

In the church (in general), we take it to refer to that Moment when a person first turns their attention to Jesus and makes a decision, whether it be by altar call or tract or personal conversation, to "give their lives to Jesus" or "get saved." I think this comes from a desire to see salvation as a secure decision.

If salvation is a momentary decision, then we can know "beyond a shadow of doubt that we'll go to heaven when we die." We can, further, understand the faiths of others and help guide them to that moment for themselves.

But, what if this isn't what Jesus meant? What if Jesus was talking about this being "born again" as a process in which a person changes his/her entire lifestyle, entire reality, entire way of thinking of themselves and others? What if Jesus was talking about a new set of eyes and ears, a new method of perceiving everything, a completely new personhood? What if being born again is that conflict that Paul talks about in Romans, where flesh fights against spirit, where the old person is constantly at war with the new?

Or, maybe Jesus is talking about birth itself, the process from conception, through all the phases of the fetus, to baby. What if Jesus is referring to re-birth as a development? What if he's referring to the common ideal of birth in which it takes 9 months, proper nutrition, much turmoil, etc. to produce a new being?

This makes me think of theology (duh..right?). It makes me think of a "first birth" as our birth in Adam (and Eve), as God's image bearers, as perfect crown of creation. However, as Scripture reads, there was then a Fall, a crisis that, in essence, killed the original creation; as God promised "if you eat of this fruit, you will surely die." So, if we are dead, then we must be reborn.

But, when does this re-birth, this being "born again" occur? Is it after a short prayer, after accepting some doctrinal truths, once we make an initial decision to seek after God? If our first birth was into perfection, then the new birth should follow suit. If this is the case, then I have not truly, fully been "born again." Certainly I am growing. God is nourishing me and I'm forming into the man he once created (Adam), I'm learning how to view reality as it truly is, learning how to have an interactive relationship with God.

But, have I yet been born? Or will I one day see "then" in full what I see "now" in shadows and glimpses? Will I one day know fully, as compared to my current state of partial knowledge? Should I, then, be seeking the position of "born again" or the process? Should I be seeking a deeper security or a closer sync with the re-birth perspective?

Can I both live in the "kingdom of God", the "fullness of life" that Jesus promises is here, at hand, and remain unfinished or still unborn to the "born again" identity?

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Book of Life

So, I was reading in Revelation last night...you know, like people do...and I noticed the phrase "blot you out of the Book of Life". In this case, Jesus was saying that he wouldn't blot out the faithful ones. Nevertheless, I started wondering about this whole Book of Life business. I proceeded to look up (on Google, of course) the several other places where "Book of LIfe" is mentioned and found a similar tone throughout the Scriptures. So, this is what I'm thinking:

If Christ is blotting out names at the end of days, when he's coming to judge the world, then that would tell me all names are in this Book and some are removed for different reasons. In other words, it's not as though this eternal book was written outside of time with only the names of certain people that would remain in the Book forever. If this is the case, if everyone is written in the Book, couldn't it also be the case that Christ truly did die for everyone and that God truly does want everyone to come to Himself? Can this logic co-exist with Reform doctrine? In other words, can God still be a calling, predestining God while maintaining an incomplete Book of Life? I think so. I certainly can't explain how, but I think so.

I mean back in the day with the golden calf ordeal, God pretty straightly says that disobedience equals death...and proceeded to kill people. Then we learn through the eyes of Christ that the death was ultimately a spiritual one. So, sinners are, then, as in Exodus, blotted out of the Book of LIfe. But Christ's justifying death, once and for all (for all people?) allows us to maintain a stance in the Book of Life despite sin.

Anybody have an opinion on all this? I welcome any thoughts.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Bread and Wine = Jesus

I'm in line waiting for food. The people that surround me either wear somber faces or dramatic smiles. Both symbolize their response to this act of communion. The somber face indicates a regret and conviction of sin and a sorrowful remebrance of a bleeding savior. The smile indicates a joy of salvation, a joy that such a man died for sin many years ago so that the masses may live in freedom and family with God. As I step up for my turn in line, the men distributing the foodstuffs whisper "body of Christ broken for you, blood of Christ spilled for you" in an eerily serious tone. As I return to my seat, I try hard to understand this truth and to love God better because of it. I try to thank God, to admit wrongdoings, to...form some sort of makeshift meaning.

The preacher tries to help me understand this meaning. He recites passages from Corinthians and Mark, he explains that I am to remember Jesus. He sometimes uses historical symbols to reveal the meaning of the bread and the wine. He then proceeds to guide me through the consumption of these foods through prayer and scripture.

But, I still don't understand. I'm stumped...and a little wigged out by the whole thing. I feel as though the whole thing is forced, as if I'm not truly making contact with God but rather just simply eating with a strange ritual attached. Plus, after skipping breakfast this morning, I'd really rather eat a steak instead of a thimble of cheap wine and a mouse-portion of bread. So, it's not even really eating either.

And, honestly, as I plan to be a pastor, I'm wondering how I can continue this necessary, mandated-by-Scripture practice when I can't seem to muster up any kind of authentic feeling or appreciation.

It got me thinking about Catholics. Catholics get so much out of the stinking Eucharist, its like the bread and butter (no pun intended) of the ecclesiastical structure. What does Catholocism teach regarding the Eucharist? Well, to be perfectly honest, I don't know much (because I've grown up in a protestant church) but I do know that there's this word, Transubstantiation. In my understanding, transubstantiation is the "process" by which simple bread and wine become the literal body and blood of Christ. Not that the bread and wine take the form of body and blood, but that they are, by the Priest's blessing, acting "en persona Christi".

I believe this practice comes from (well many places, but primarily) John 6. In John 6:32-60 or so, Jesus talks about himself being the Bread of Life. Shortly after Jesus "feeds the 5 thousand", some of them find him and ask him to perform more signs and miracles to show that he truly is God. They say "like Moses, you know, God gave him bread in the desert so that the Israelites could live" and Jesus goes "woah woah woah now, you don't get it...I AM the bread of life, I'm the only bread you'll ever need...that bread in the desert was purely physical...I'm the bread that doesn't spoil, that can't be devoured, that fully and eternally satisfies the soul." Then he says "unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you."

So, what he's saying is...unless you drink me, eat me...you got nothing. Now, I believe, Catholocism practices the Eucharist (a tradition passed down from the church fathers) by saying, "we're gonna take this bread and wine and ingest it as the body and blood of Christ because apart from Him there is no eternal life, no salvation, no nothin". And so, literally, Catholics partake in the ritual, acknowledging that without it there is nothing good in their own mortal bodies to bring about the righteousness that God requires.

But, what about a figurative interpretation? Is it possible? I believe so. Now, I'm not arguing "figurative vs. literal" because I'm just not qualified to do so. What I am saying is that IF we are going to participate in a figurative interpretation, we may want to heed these verses.

What I see in these verses, what I see in Communion, is a symbolic acknowledgement of the whole gospel. Not just the cross, not just the death of Christ...but the whole package, that the death and ressurection of Christ means that we are called chosen and beloved, means that we are called righteous because of Him. We are no longer dependent upon our own nature to live righteously, but rather upon Christ and his perfect nature. So, when Christ says "I am the Bread of Life, unless you eat it you're dead and can't truly live", I think he's talking about Communion. I think he's alluding to this future "last supper" act, and I think the words in these verses directly mirror those found in Luke 22 or Paul's instructions in Corinthians.

I think that when Christ is inviting us to remember Him, to eat and drink, He is inviting us to remember once again that "Christ in me is the hope of righteousness, the hope of life and truth", he's inviting us to actively partake in the gospel through this symbolic meal. So, I believe that when we take Communion, we reflect upon the gospel and we ask Christ, through the symbolism of the elements, to continue to reveal to us his power in us, his status as the Bread of Life. That we might remain in Him, that we might see Him as our only hope...and, at that, the supreme hope.

So, I guess communion just became a lot less ritualistic to me and a lot more meaningful. I don't feel the pressure to cry while thinking of the cross or to feel disgusting about my sin. I don't have to explain it away with metaphors about Christ's cup sharing as a marriage symbol or his napkin folding as a symbol of justification, etc. I can just eat and drink, abiding in the truth of the gospel, that God has given Himself for us that we might have life, His life in us, His strength and purpose in us.

Anyway, probably nothing new to others, but for me its powerful. For me, this view of "figurative transubstantiation" has changed the way I view communion.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Tinkerers: Blessing or Curse?

I've been reading this book on "millenials", which are basically people who are currently in the age bracket of 20-45. We're called this quite obviously, because we were growing up around the turn of the millenium...Y2K, internet, september 11th, stuff like that are said to impact our lives and distinguish us from other generations such as the Baby Boomers of the 50-70s.

Why am I reading this book? Because I've recently found that generations are interesting. I used to think we were all pretty similar and that, as a 20 something, I'm supposed to just rebel and want to be different and then I will one day gain maturity and wisdom like my parents and grandparents. I used to understand life as a pretty linear concept in this regard. At the same time though, I've always had this strong conviction that there is more, that there are new things to be done and that rebellion and heterdoxy are not necessarily bad things. Then, as I started reading sociological surveys and psychological studies, I found that maybe it's true. Maybe different generations come along and accomplish different things. This would mean that not only am I justified in challenging norms and trying new methods, but that I should likewise see the previous generation's work as good and profitable, not out-dated and weak.

This realization gives me a whole new dimension in which to view God. God is a God who calls people into different generations to accomplish different things. God has specifically created me to live within this generation, to be influenced by these particular circumstances, to experience spirituality in new ways, so that I might continue the work of creating and restoring. God could have put me in the 1920's; I could have made a great Jazz musician. I could have been born in the middle ages. You get the idea. Point is, I'm here now and I'm learning, both spiritually and academically through these books, that God purposed this generation for something new. Not that we cut ties with previous ideas and methods, but that we embrace them and move.

Anyway, little tangent there. Here's what I really wanted to talk about.

This guy, Robert Wuthnow, says that we are (millenials) a generation of 'tinkerers'. Rather than going to the store and buying the exact part that is needed to complete a task, we will ask advice, use the skills we have and piece something together that is functional for our purposes. We thrive on an element of creativity, of ingenuity. Certainty is boring to us, the definitional nature is not enough. We want to tweek and tinker it to fit what makes rational, emotional and experiencial sense to us.

There is a bigger trend this comes from, which scholars call post-modernism. Quite simply post-modernism is re-modernism, in the sense that modernism is enlightentment-styled logic and formality. However, our tinkering generation has gone beyond the "norms" of post-modernism itself.

Take, for example, Sam Harris. He spoke a few months ago about science determining morality. He spoke against the post-modern view of relativity and subjectivity, the view that says "what's right for me is different than what's right for you." He claims that there are moral absolutes and that they can be found in biological and sociological scientific norms. So, it's not as simple as lumping our generation in with all the rest of post-modernism. Rather, our generation accepts things like an atheist claiming absolute morality.

Why? Why doth we tinker thus?

We tinker because we're able. Our generation gets married, finishes school, has kids, and starts a professional career decades later than previous generations. The ideal of an 18 yr old finishing college by 22, having a career by 24 and getting married by 26 is no longer the way of life. More likely is a single 28 yr old who is in school part time and works as a bartender. More likely is a single mom at 31, getting married around 35. This being said, the idea of "adulthood" has changed drastically. The coming of age that most people associate with the mid-20s, doesn't really occur until the late 30s or 40s. So, the first reason we tinker is because we make time for tinkering.

The second is that we don't have social pressures. Society focuses its efforts on youth and the elderly. Pre-school, grade school, aftercare, sports, youth group, parachurch ministries, on and on (I'm sure you can name 5 more, try)...all focused on the 5-18 age group. The same for elderly groups, communities, rotary clubs, boards, commissions, etc. So, the middle bracket of 20-50s are left out. And, this used to be ok. When people started families and professional careers in their 20s, there were plently of natural social networks in place to moniter and encourage the maturation and happiness of these age groups. But, with adulthood coming in one's late 30s, this is no longer a safe bet. Instead, young adults (again, 20-45) are left alone. We spend our time as individuals. We meet at clubs, online, we spend time with our parents...because, really, there isn't much else available. Not that these are bad sources of community, but they are not deep and intentional like those society provides for youth.

This is evidenced by statistics that show young adults deeply in-debt, raising kids alone, paying for chatrooms, etc. But, it does allow us to tinker. We don't have anyone telling us what is right and wrong, what we can and cannot think. We have no sources for wisdom, but also none for condemnation. So, we are free to tinker and create perspectives and worldviews, free to indulge what we choose and reject what we don't.

So, is tinkering a blessing or a curse? Is it good or bad? I guess I don't have a firm answer to that. Certainly we are fortunate on the one end in that we are not trapped by standards and ideals that act as fences and chains. But, on the other, we have no foundation, no community, no guidance. I think that, although there are positive effects to be had from this tinkering, society, specifically the church, needs to step up in respect and love of this age group and find ways to guide, commune with, and learn from us. I think there needs to be conversation between pastors, church leaders, elders...and young adults who hold these tinkering perspectives. Not a dialogue of wise one to foolish one, but of brother to brother, sister to sister. I think this not only for the church but for the society as a whole. Both sides need it, both sides will grow and be challenged as they engage in dialogue. Wouldn't it be beautiful if these young adults could be fostered and guided through the trials of adulthood by a loving community as they enrich it with the wisdom of a tinkerer. I think that society would stop stifeling tinkering such that all would feel free to tinker while remaining firmly grounded in wise truths and principles. Yea.