Book Review: Reframing Paul: Conversations in Grace & Community

Reframing Paul: Conversations in Grace and Community by Mark Strom
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The most interesting part of this book is the survey of the Greco-Roman world which formed the context of the letters written by St Paul found in the Christian New Testament of the Bible. The author discusses what he calls the social, historical and personal frames of the ancient world and compares these to Paul's. The essential point of the book is that St Paul has been misappropriated by the Christian evangelical movement in developing a structure that is controlling, ideological, and self-perpetuating. At the heart of the social fabric of evangelicalism is a resistance to genuine conversation that is open, creative, radical and subversive in positive ways. An actual analysis of Paul's writings in the context of the thought and experience world of his day shows that there is no biblical authority for what evangelicalism takes for granted as being "determined by God". What the average Christian experiences when they attend church is worlds away from the freedom St Paul envisaged for the Christian. Instead, evangelicalism is all about conformity. The author describes the stifling power of evangelical structures and processes in the following paragraph:

Conformity requires ideals, ideals require persuasive oratory, the orator needs to feel he knows the truth; persuading others of the truth is the basis of conformity. The conventions of preaching establish boundaries for the comgregation's thought, feelings and behaviour. The effect is to make the whole system seem self-evidently true and to pull people back from the storms of their questions and doubts into the shelters of authorised explanations and ideals. They must be calmed before they find grief, anger and freedom.

For the author, the key to Christan freedom in community is "grace-full comversation". 'Conversations marked by grace. Conversations full of grace. Conversations that bring grace. For the author, the rhetoric of grace abounds in the church but the structures and processes of the evangelical community are inherently resistant to its being experienced in everyday life. This situation leads to many people leaving (or being jettisoned from) the traditional church. If only we could recover grace-full conversation the Christian community might have a chance.

The last section of the book provides a sense of what grace-full conversation might look like in practice and the challenges of implementing such conversations within the evangelical system. The negative effects of traditional preaching, absolutist theologies, idealism and authority are explored leading to the breakdown of meaning experienced by contemporary believers. In the last chapter of the book the author shares his own personal journey attempting to nurture a grace-full community - including the warts and disappointing outcome. The second-to-last paragraph on the power of grace to subvert is excellent and a good place to finish this brief review:

Grace is subversive. It undermines the ideals and standards of those of us who cannot tolerate weakness in others (or in ourselves). It undermines the pride of those of us who search out every vestige of unbiblical belief and practice. It undermines the presumption of those of us who preach the pure gospel to cure all ills. It undermines the safety of those of us who throw off the shackles of abusive and codependent relationships only to exclude grace from those who have hurt us. It undermines our need to find the ideal, the answer, the method, the cure. We ate left with the weakness of grace-full comversation.

View all my reviews

 

 

Book Review: God Without Religion

Andrew Farley has followed up his previous book, The Naked Gospel, with another brilliant turn in God Without Religion. Farley has the gift of making profound things simple - and nothing is more in need of simplifying than religious teaching about the gospel that persists in keeping Christians in bondage.

The central point of God Without Religion is that Christians now live under the New Covenant which has jettisoned the Mosaic Law and replaced it with a new ethical foundation in the gospel of grace soaked in the power of the Holy Spirit. For Farley, many Christians have not grasped the freedom they have in Christ. They are bound up (the original meaning of the term from which religion is derived) in the oppressive belief that the have to keep the at least some of the Old Testament laws.

Of course, many will object to this message of grace plus nothing and frequently appeal to NT passages about behavior, law, and obedience. But one of Farley's gifts is to exegete Scripture and he looks at these common passages, teasing out there actual meaning in their literary and historical contexts. His explanations are clear, simple, and penetrating and I often sat breathless as I wondered why I hadn't seen these things before.

If you are living a religion that insists on defining rules or laws for you that you must live by then you must read this book. St Paul, in Galatians 5, provocatively drives home the fact that the whole point of Christ's ministry was to bring freedom. And the only way to live as a Christian is to live by the Spirit - not by being lashed to the Mosaic Law. As Farley points out, the law can only provoke us to sin. It was never intended as a tool for Christians to live their lives by. The fruits of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, and so on) are produced in us quite separate from law.

God Without Religion is a stunning second book from Farley. He uses analogies and stories to good effect; he makes the Bible come alive; and he makes controversial issues, that have plagued the church, practical and relevant. Get this book without delay and come to know God without religion.

Book details: Farley, Andrew (2011). God Without Religion. Baker Books.

What Do These Scores Mean?

by Andy Hanson

Usually, scores on standardized tests look pretty impressive. They have been computer generated and are often accompanied by bar graphs and statistical information. Since the scores you are most likely to see compare your child's achievements and/or IQ to those of other children of approximately the same age and grade, more than likely viewing these numbers and graphs elicits an emotional response.

Read more »

Fractured

Cleaning out the shed at home yesterday, I came across a scrap of paper on which I had written a poem years ago. I no longer remember when it was written or what specifically prompted it. My guess is that it was written during my major depressive illness which lasted for about 10 years.

Read more »

Four Habits for the Spiritual Life

I am reading a fascinating book at present entitled Practical Intelligence: The Art and Science of Common Sense written by Karl Albrecht. While the book is not directly discussing the spiritual life, I have come across an interesting set of ideas that seem to me to be directly related to it.
Albrecht describes 'four habits that unlock your mental capacity' (pp. 82-84). These habits are:

1. mental flexibility
2. affirmative thinking
3. semantic sanity
4. valuing ideas 

Read more »

Relevance, Part 3

A couple of things have happened in the last few weeks that inspired me to begin this series on relevance.  This will be the concluding post - but you may find this theme throughout much of what I write (both in the past, and in the future).  When I preach, when I write, when I do just about anything, I ask myself, what is the point?  And this becomes the question I have to ask about God, His Word, and His Church - what is the point?

For me, I've found meaning in God.  The Bible was a little more challenging - but once I moved past the cultural distortions, I have found great relevance in those words.  I'm still wrestling with the Church though.  I'm wondering, what is it that people are trying to do there?

Read more »

Relevance, Part 2

Image by Lawrence OP via Flickr

When I look around at others, and I try to understand people's motives for church attendance, I am often baffled. I don't really understand why people choose to attend a weekly church service – or get involved at a deeper level. But my not understanding probably says more about me, then it does about the people I'm trying to understand.

Typically, I am not a joiner. I tend to not just go along because everyone else is doing something. As a certified introvert, I tend to prefer my own company over that of others. So, when I see groups of people gathering – for anything, not just church – I am left a little confused as to what their motives, or intentions are.

Read more »

You Are the Light of the World

“You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden.” Matthew 5:14. These powerful words of Jesus point out to us what discipleship look likes. We are here to bring light into the darkness. To truly be filled with light means that we are filled with the power of an indwelling Christ. Our light comes from the covering of the righteousness of Christ.

If we are then filled with Christ and covered with light we will then be doing the works of Christ in the world. We will be his hands and feet and ministers to those in need. This is what it means to be the light of the world and to be the salt that seasons.

There is a disturbing trend in the church, however, that tends towards exclusiveness. It reminds me of the condition of the church when Jesus came to the world. If you recall, it was a very dark time in the history of our planet and a very dark time in the church. Religion had become a system of forms and elaborate rituals and sacrifices, but it was devoid of the virtues of mercy and of concerns for the good of the people. Only the “pure” were looked upon with favor by the church and the smallest of infractions could find one shunned and excommunicated from the body of believers.

Jesus was highly criticized because of the time he spent hanging out with people the church considered untouchable. They drank alcohol, they were sexually immoral, they had a lot of problems, and they didn’t even attend church. His great heart of love had the audacity to care for everyone, even the immoral Samaritan woman who had been married way too many times.

As a church, are we inclusive or exclusive? Do we shut those in need of the healing power of Christ’s love out because of what they do and how they behave? Do we embrace the power of the Holy Spirit and pray that we will be filled with the miracle working power of God so that we too, like the disciples of old will be able to minister to the healing of those in great need? Or do we live in fear, cloaking ourselves off from the needs of the world?

Do we take care of our planet or do we make excuses for our irresponsibility saying that it will all burn up anyway? Do we believe the majority of people are destined for the flames? Do we call every experience we cannot explain as being from Satan? Do we look for the Christ in people or do we look for the Anti-Christ? Are we a light on a hilltop or has our light been covered by a bushel because we are afraid?

The song “Onward Christian Soldiers” call us, not to be exclusive and ignore the needs of the world—that would be “Onward Christian Chickens”—rather to be a soldier of Christ means that we will work for the good of everyone. We will shine wherever we are and our lives will look a lot like Christ’s.

We can become so fearful of “last day deceptions” that we are useless as far as being a soldier for Christ. I am not speaking of being militant here, I am speaking of being compassionate, available, Spirit-filled, and burdened with the needs of humanity and a dying planet.

Fear is really mistrust of God. Fear separates and insulates us from the needs of those around us. Fear is selfish and is focused on a personal salvation only. When we are busy doing the work of God in the world we will cease to be consumed with our navel-gazing insecurities about our personal salvation. Moses came to an amazing place in his walk with God where he cared more for the good of the people he was trying to help than for his own salvation.

What I long to see is a church where we are more focused on how to make a difference than we are about protecting our fundamental 28. Our beliefs should make us ambassadors of God’s love. They should never insulate us from the needs of others. The world is dying for the light of God’s love. Let’s be a light to the world.

Your kingdom come

by Nathan Brown


Last year, a couple of weeks before a weekend speaking appointment, I was asked to present a workshop on the subject of prayer, in addition to the other meetings of the weekend program. As a fan of prayer but not necessarily an expert, being assigned the topic stretched me to think about the nature of prayer and how to explore the topic with a group of young people.

It seemed that prayer as a spiritual practice was best practised, rather than merely talked about. And so a one-hour workshop grew around actually taking the time to pray in a variety of ways, interspersed with a few personal reflections on what prayer is and why it is important in the life of the Christian.

It was a great experience. A couple of hundred young people praying together in complete silence is an incredible sound and was a highlight. But perhaps the aspect of prayer that has had the most continuing influence was the rediscovery of one of Christianity’s oldest practices—reading prayers. In the workshop setting, we simply read together the Lord’s Prayer of Matthew 6:9-13, slowly, thoughtfully and prayerfully, letting Someone Else’s words speak through us and into our lives.

It’s a practise I have continued over the months since. Regularly in the mornings on my way to work, I have let the words of the Lord’s Prayer point me toward “our Father,” repeating the familiar lines carefully, tasting the reverence and relevance of the requests, and allowing the words of Jesus to echo in my mind. And I have got into the habit of repeating this at other times of the day and in other settings.

But there are a couple of lines, I often get stuck on, that my mind pauses on as I take in the context in which I might be praying the prayer: “Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as in heaven” (see Matthew 6:10). As the sun rises on a new morning on my way to work, it seems almost poetic. But in other situations, these words are more jarring.

And so it was that I found myself praying this prayer from time to time during a recent visit to Cambodia. But what does it mean to pray “Your kingdom come” amid the chaos of rush-hour traffic in downtown Phnom Penh, where the Hummers and Mercedes mix with cyclos, street vendors and beggars? What would change if the prayer, “Your will be done,” was answered amid the dust, the smells and the people of a small-town marketplace? How is “Your kingdom come” evident in an out-of-the-way village where knowledge of the God—whose kingdom it is—is all but absent? How does “Your will be done” have any significant reality when just 70 children out of the tens of thousands of orphans in Cambodia can be cared for in the small orphanage we visited?

Somewhere like Cambodia is a daunting context in which to pray, “Your kingdom come. Your will be done.”

But Jesus said the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed (see Matthew 13:31). And perhaps the greatest benefit for us in praying a prayer such as this is to begin to see the small things that just might be glimpses of that reality.

One morning, we were visiting a nearby landmark with a group from the orphanage. We had explored some ancient temple ruins and a little of the surrounding jungle, and were heading back for lunch when we caught up with a group of the smaller children, who had been playing together. As we fell in with this group, one of the little girls—perhaps four years old—reached up and took my hand. Immediately, I had to shorten my stride to make it possible for us to walk together. And so we did, until we arrived back at the rest of the group.

Sometime ago I came across a definition of Christian living:

“a little faith and two outstretched hands . . . reaching up to take the steady hand of Jesus and reaching out to steady someone else” (Russell Rathbun).

And perhaps this is part of what it means to participate in the kingdom of God in so many of the tragic contexts of our world—a little faith, two outstretched hands and a willingness to break our stride, our busyness, our hurry, our agenda so as to be able to walk with another person for a time in our respective lives. And perhaps together to pray, “Your kingdom come.”

Love the Ninevites, Hate the Nincompoops?

“The men of Nineveh will stand up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it; for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and now one greater than Jonah is here.” Matthew 12:41.

When Jonah finally reached the Assyrian capital of Nineveh (near present-day Mosul, Iraq) to preach “Repent or die,” he hoped his mission would fail. Trouble was, after all his own sneaking around, he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t. He could tell God really wanted him to deliver that message, and that must mean that it just might work.

Soon even Nineveh’s king had swapped his royal robes for sackcloth and ashes, commanding commoner and cattle alike to do the same. “Let everyone call urgently on God,” he said. “Let them give up their evil ways and their violence. Who knows? God may yet relent and with compassion turn from his fierce anger so that we will not perish.”

When Jonah saw them tearing their robes in repentance, he just about tore his hair out. He sat outside the city to watch the fireworks and brimstone, but . . . nothing.

“I knew it,” Jonah wailed. “I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.”

Jonah resented the idea that God could cherish people who barely even knew His teachings. Yet God meets people where they are, which is why many people who've never heard of Jesus will find themselves in heaven too.

God accepted the Ninevites’ repentance and relationship with Him as genuine, even though they never became Seventh-day Assyrians. God had knocked on the door of their hearts, and they had answered. And thanks to Jonah, God’s promise to Abraham was partly fulfilled: “through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed” (Genesis 22:18).

The Holy Spirit speaks to each and every one of us, and the fruits we bear show whether or not we’d be happy in heaven. For "If you know that he is righteous, you know that everyone who does what is right has been born of him." (1 John 2:29)

The last thing Jonah wanted to do was help save his enemy the Assyrians. Going to Nineveh, he discovered that sometimes, the soul you save may be your own.

Israel, Adventism, and A New Wheel

By Julie Smith

There’s an interesting lesson to be learned from the history of Israel. Coming out of a culture of slavery and domination after 400 years in Egypt, they found themselves ignorant of the principles of living a life connected to their Creator.

Moses had his hands full when it came to teaching a large group of people how to have a relationship with a loving God based on the concept of an indwelling Spirit. They were accustomed to having an external locus of control—one in which they were told what to do rather than going within to consult with Spirit as to the best course of action.

How could it have been any other way? They were born into slavery and knew nothing else. By understanding this in all its implications we can begin to understand the reasons why God communicated with the children of Israel in the manner that God did. They needed direct, concise, imperative-command type instructions on what to do and what not to do. They also needed freedom from bondage—not only physical freedom but also spiritual freedom as well.

The introduction of the Sabbath principle, one that was not new but that was forgotten, was to remind them of the need for physical rest after years of non-stop labor. The health principles were introduced to give them freedom from disease after years of ignorance and being subjected to poverty and making do with whatever was available to them. Thus, you can see that God intended to introduce them to all of the principles of freedom available to them in their newfound emancipation that had been unavailable to them during slavery.

Sadly, over the course of their history they made these freedom guidelines into a new form of slavery and entrapment. By the time of Christ, the meaning behind the Sabbath and healthful living had been lost. They were thoroughly entrenched in another form of slavery—living life according to a set of man-made rules.

The Apostle Paul addresses this issue in the book of Colossians in chapter 2 where he addresses the intentions of God to have us live a transformed life. This is a life different from slavery where one is told everything to do and when to do it. It is a life of freedom from rules. The new guiding system is a Christ that lives within (see Col. 1). He closes the chapter with powerful words about living a life that is only guided by rules and not an in-dwelling Christ. “These rules may seem wise because they require strong devotion, pious self-denial and severe bodily discipline. But they provide no help in conquering a person’s evil desires.” (Col. 2:23 NLT)

Hopefully, it is not too large a stretch for us to see where we might possibly have made the same error in Adventism today as the children of Israel did in the past. God offers us the idea of a Sabbath rest to release us from the tyranny of too much doing. God offers us suggestions on healthful living to release us from the pitfalls of disease. We have turned these into a substitute for an in-dwelling Christ.

Paul’s words are still good counsel for us today. All of the pious self-denial in the world is not a substitute for a relinquishing of our cherished ego and submitting to the Spirit’s power and control over our lives. There is absolutely no place in the Christian walk for our petty arguments over doctrine and some of the other detours we have taken over the past several years.

The invitation of Christ still calls out to us today, “Look, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone will hear my voice, I will come in and eat with them.” Christ’s promise is one of restoration, rest, healing, and personal instruction. It is the in-dwelling Christ that allows us to enter into His rest. “Take my yoke upon you and learn of Me, for My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

It is the in-dwelling Christ that allows us to become a light to the world. It is the in-dwelling Christ that insures that we will be the embodiment of the commands to love God with all our hearts and our neighbor as ourselves. If we want to “re-invent the Adventist wheel” this might be a good place to start.

The Prodigal...

By Trailady

Having stepped outside of organized religion recently and having spread my wings to further develop my own journey, so-to-speak, I find that I relate more now to the simple teachings of the humble Christ than ever before.

I have a whole NEW take on the story of the Prodigal Son.
The young boy becomes discontent with the way things are going on the farm and decides to leave. So he demands his inheritance, which the Father gives to him, knowing full well the boy is leaving and it may be squandered.

The boy takes the gift and runs with it. He really lives it up! He parties like a rock star, hooks up with a bunch of pretty girls and buys some new clothes. Things go well for a while, then the funds start running low and before long, his free ride ends. Eventually he finds himself with plenty of time for contemplation while feeding pigs and eating their slop to avoid starvation.

It is then he realizes his Father wasn't so bad after all. He was a cocky and arrogant son- thought he had all the answers before. Now after venturing on his own he is truly humble- even willing to offer himself as a servant. The Father does not stand over the son saying "I told you so", "You were raised better" or "What were you thinking?" No, the weeping Father is relieved to have his child return.

How GREAT is the love of God!

I fully embrace this story. You see, I'm a prodigal and so are you. All of us have an inheritance. It is the love and grace freely offered to each of us- a gift that will either be squandered or developed. Some prodigals will enjoy their freedom and learn a lot of valuable lessons, while the more timid, reserved brethren who fear their Father, stick to the routine. They slave away back on the farm gritting their teeth, obediently keeping all the rules. They stifle their questions and cautiously avoid making waves at all cost. The good news is that the Father- who represents God- loves and values BOTH sons.

The Prodigal was not afraid to ask questions, to see how things really are and figure life out for himself. He goes out exploring and tests the waters. He does not come up empty. Instead, he ends up finding the depth of his fathers love, devotion and forgiveness. Guess what? He is not abandoned or disappointed. Not only does the Father welcome him back, he throws a big party to celebrate his return.

You see, it was likely NOT the Father the boy was running from. He was running from the farm, the same ol'- same ol'. Maybe, in a sense he was running from himself? Perhaps he needed a break because he felt he was being overworked, pushed around and told what to do constantly. He wanted to have a little fun and test out some of his own theories about life.

He made some foolish choices and ends up falling on his face in the dirt at his Fathers feet, yes. But his curiosity has been satisfied and he knows forever more, beyond the shadow of a doubt that he is loved and belongs in his Fathers house.

Christians should be mature enough to allow others to question and explore their faith. Give them room to breathe, to walk away and contemplate- even to disagree on certain points and grow. Be gracious enough not to drive them away by talking down, verbally chastising or shunning. In the end, they are the most genuine believers.

The churches, the older brothers are intimidated by this kind of honesty, but why? A sincere person who searches and obtains a real grasp on where he/she stands before God is to be valued... even celebrated. At least in the Father's eyes...

For the Bible Tells Me So

by Leslie Foster



Watching this trailer gave me a severe case of the chills. It created a moment where I had to shake my head and wonder at the emotions that swirled around me. "For The Bible Tells Me So" was released several weeks ago, and I pray that it creates meaningful dialog within the church in general, and the Adventist church specifically. I'm also a little jealous; I would have loved to be involved in the making of the film.

This is a subject that has haunted me for years, from being a teenager who at times questioned his own identity and mouthed the mantra that I loved the sinner, hated the sin; to being a college student whose views got the Humpty Dumpty treatment. I've seen homosexuals in the church treated terribly, heard church members angrily declare that they'd like to kill every single of 'those people' or express their deep hatred of something so different.

The medium of storytelling can change the world, and I hope the stories told in this film change someone. If we as Christians can put as much emphasis in loving, really loving people as we do in following the rest of the law (we forget that love is the beating heart of the law) then the world really will be changed.

Perhaps watching this film will enable some to walk away, not necessarily with changed opinions, but with changed hearts, with the ability to love and respect.

The Alabaster Jar

by Julie Smith

Have you ever done anything totally extravagant—something so outrageous and costly that it might take you some time to recover financially? If you have, it has probably been done for love. Either you have loved some thing or some one so much you just couldn’t help yourself.

There is just such a record of a costly, extravagant impulse recorded in the Gospels. In fact, even though it happened over 2,000 years ago today, it is still talked about; it has been recorded in numerous art portrayals, and has in essence come to epitomize an act of extravagance in the name of love. You’ve probably already guessed whom I’m talking about. It is Mary Magdalene and the alabaster jar of expensive nard.

It probably wasn’t one of the smartest things she had done. But then, considering her history—who cared. People already whispered when she came into a room. She already knew that you she wasn’t talked about in polite company. But her heart ached to do something for Christ. He had restored her life. Taken it back, in essence, from the spirits of evil that had controlled her life—kept her captive.

He was speaking of being put to death. Time was short. She sensed the animosity and hatred of the religious leaders. Well she knew and understood the attitude and intent of their hearts. She was quite familiar with the darkness that could reside in the human soul. She knew what the disciples refused to know—that time was short. She must act quickly.

What do you give to the person that you love the most? How do you decide what to give someone that doesn’t need material possessions? He didn’t have a home, land, horses, and carried very little with him. A new pair of sandals? No, obviously that was not going to express the intentions of her heart.

Something costly—extravagant—a once in a lifetime gift. Something that expressed the beautiful fragrance of love and gratitude and worship that she felt for her healer, master, teacher, and friend. Ah, fragrance—how fitting. She would pour out a love offering of beautiful essence that would signify her prayers and worship. Kind of like the incense burned at the altar in the temple, only something she could anoint his body with. Yes—this was perfect.

Jesus had said that he would be delivered to the religious leaders and killed at the Passover celebration. She hoped beyond hope that this wasn’t true. But evidence was mounting in that direction that he spoke the truth. Six days before the Passover was a dinner planned where she would able to give her gift. Her sister Martha was serving, and Lazarus was there—maybe a celebration dinner of his new life. Certainly she would have the opportunity to give it to him then.

She would have liked to give the gift to him in private—but he was seldom alone. Opportunities just didn’t present themselves. As dinner was drawing to a close, things were noisy and boisterous. She decided she could act without anyone noticing. The thing she forgot, however, was the strength of the essence of nard. There was no hiding what she had done. The fragrance enveloped the room. Everything grew quiet.

People stared, men mostly, at the woman kneeling at the feet of Jesus, weeping. Harsh words were spoken regarding her character and intent. Her generous gift was misunderstood. Jesus spoke, silencing the criticisms. “She has done this for my burial. Leave her alone. Her good deed will be remembered and discussed wherever my story is told.”

Have you ever considered what bravery and courage it took to do such a radical thing? But then, we don’t always act rationally when we are in love. This love was different than anything she had ever known. It had blossomed and grown in her heart as she had basked in the redeeming embrace of Divine love. A love of similar quality had been reciprocated in her heart. It was expressed in her gift, in her being the last at the cross, and the first at the tomb.

Faith and love had opened her eyes and her heart. Her great need had been the factor in making her receptive to important truths that the apostles had missed. She was looked upon as the most needy and the most unworthy, but it was this very thing that qualified her to be the Apostle to the Apostles. She was blessed with a faith and trust to show the way.

Things are no different today. It is only in our great need and a desire to be loved that we are filled. When we are empty and desire the blessings of the Divine presence in our hearts, it is then that we can be filled. Never let anything keep you from thinking that God doesn’t desire your company and love. You are God’s precious child.

A Reality Check For Progressive Adventists

by Alex Bryan

Dan Kimball could not laugh.

And yet he was laughing so violently that his body was heaving in ripples and waves, tears pouring out of his red, swelling eyes, saltwater cascading down his cheeks. How much longer could his tightly closed mouth, reinforced by both hands, which were attached to elbows braced in his lap, hold off the impending outburst … that would send us all into ill-timed delirium?

And so, in order to save himself, Dan left the classroom, leaving behind a half-dozen similarly infected victims (including myself) either to get it together or else. Our in-class, time-passing game of sending silly pictures from laptop to laptop (WiFi is dangerous) was out of hand. The professor couldn’t find out.

Dan Kimball is more than my very funny classmate at George Fox University. He is warm, insightful, deeply spiritual, well-traveled, a key thinker in the emerging church movement, and his newest book They Like Jesus But Not The Church is prophetic. It’s a book for pastors, church leaders, and anyone who thinks seriously and deeply about the challenge of church in our contemporary culture.

His major point is chilling: non-Christians have very negative views of the church (while holding rather positive views of Jesus). Dan’s interviews with non-Christians reveal that these unfortunate perceptions are often based upon non-Christians interaction with (a) highly vocal (often highly weird) Christians who do not represent Christ or the majority of Christians and (b) media portrayals of Christians based upon the worst the church has to offer. They don’t like the church because the “church” they have been exposed to is pretty disgusting!

What’s worse, these non-Christians have had no interaction with the majority of the church: people who are loving, kind, faithful, generous. Why? Because most Christians only relate at a very superficial level (work together) with non-Christians … or they have no relations at all. Christians tend only to make Christian friends.

From personal experience, I am stunned how many pastors, for example, answer “I don’t have any” when I ask them how many non-Christian friends they have. Of those I’ve asked, I can name maybe one Seventh-day Adventist pastor who has a single significant friendship with a non-Christian (or even a non-Adventist).

Last week I asked the inter-denominational pastors’ group I am part of: “What do you think of Seventh-day Adventists?” One response was powerful. “Well, Alex, I had a negative impression until I started interacting with an individual at a hospital in Florida. He is a really great person. We became friends.”

Here’s the point (and a prophetic word for so-called progressive Adventists):

If we allow stereotypes of Adventism to be the face of our faith—images and information defined by the most anti-grace and anti-Christ(like) handbills, billboards, televangelism, and by revisionist and reductionist Adventist history (many today are far less progressive than the founders of this little movement)—then we have abdicated our responsibility to help explain the real Jesus in Adventism.

If we aren’t forming relations(hips) of love with people outside the church, the public relations(hips) will determined by … who?

Progressive (or at least open) Adventists (which, I’m beginning to believe, are the emerging majority in North America), cannot sit back and mourn the negative image of Adventism held by many in the larger culture. We must get out of our homogenized havens, our carefully constructed cocoons, and “be where the people be.” If we aren’t in relationship to people outside the church, we should sit down and shut up. Our progressive musing won’t amount to anything.

As my Australian buddy David would say, “Who are your non-Christian mates?”

This is no laughing matter.

Breaking My Heart

One of the most troubling things happening in my life of late is that so many of my friends are either divorcing, cheating on one another or otherwise putting each other through hell. It's killing me. A friend of mine just had her indiscretions of a year ago made public knowledge. Now she's trying to deal with the fall out. It's a mess. Institutional religion all too often gives us only two categories in which to understand indiscretion and/or brokenness: victim or victimizer. Thus, when one's brokenness is discovered, everyone, including the principle players, seems to rush to take up sides against the category they despise the most. It's awful. In the meantime, little or no healing takes place, because we're not taught how to seek that for the good of each other. Instead, the principle players retreat into self-interest—"I have to protect... love... find healing for... provide for... myself (and my kids).

Many want to blame my friend for not coming clean from the start regarding her affair. I'm convinced that the reason there is no sacrament of confession in much institutional religion is because there is no sacrament of forgiveness. We just don't have the tools to embrace brokenness, and we're too inhibited by bad theology. We believe we have a divine obligation to hand out scarlet letters, though we know that's not love. We do it even when it makes no sense to us—even when everything inside us cries out for something better—even to ourselves. It's tragic.

One of the major obstacles to loving better, I believe, is what we rehearse when we gather together. We rehearse karma instead of grace, "righteous" indignation instead of forgiveness, doctrine instead of faith. Don't get me wrong. Karma is legitimate and probably the best human beings can hope to apprehend in their own strength. But the way of Jesus is predicated on the hope of living beyond one's own strength. Nonetheless, we don't rehearse such victory, only the pitifulness of being "a sinner in need of saving" week after week when it's time for the alter call.

The question that comes to my mind as I watch these tragedies take shape time and time again—or hear people defend the structures that facilitate them—is "How is this working for us?" Don't get me wrong. I don't have all the answers, but I know a reason why few are asking Christianity for its take on the matter. Whether we've been blessed with any answers or not, how we live in committed relationship isn't working any better for us than it is for those who claim not our sense of accountability. And that breaks my heart, for I know the way of Jesus is better than that.

God's visible grace

I've been invited to be an occasional contributor to this blog, as a Catholic who has a website/blog on Adventism, to learn more about Adventism, and help both sides understand each other better.

This is my first post, and since we recently celebrated Easter, I thought some of the symbolism of Easter would be a good way to introduce the way Catholicism views symbols and sacramentals, something often looked at strangely by non-Catholic Christians.

I'll start off with a New Testament example familiar to most Christians.

Acts 19:12 (KJV) So that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits went out of them.

What happened here? In modern society, such acts would be viewed as superstitious. They'd be viewed as suspiciously Catholic by many. Yet in many Protestant denominations, anointed handkerchiefs or cloths are passed around, sometimes sent from specific ministries to those who request them. To what end?

Num 21:8 (KJV) And the LORD said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.

Here we have another case of a physical symbol used by God for the purpose of healing. Was there magical power in these items? If we could get them here today, would they work for curing snake bites and other ailments?

Or were they physical signs through which God worked for those who had faith? Or were they merely symbols that were not necessary ... surely those who had faith, and didn't think it was necessary to look at the snake, were healed of their snake bite? Did Moses tell them to have faith, whether they looked at the snake or not, and they'd be healed? Did Paul tell the people to have faith and not worry about handkerchiefs? Or did he permit them to use them, in order to bring God's healing through the symbols of that faith?

It's fairly clear that in both Old Testament and New Testament times, it was believed that God worked through items that held religious significance. A snake he told Moses to make, the bones of Elisha, the hem of Jesus' clothes, and handkerchiefs from Paul.

It's not so much a question of whether God works this way or not; and why God works this way is another theological matter I won't delve into much, apart from saying that the Bible doesn't support the Gnostic notion that matter is evil - the Incarnation alone, which they denied, shows us that what God made was good, and came to us in physical form. The real question, for this discussion, is how God works through physical symbols. Magic? Faith, which without them would suffice? Or is there a point to the symbols? Can God's grace come through physical objects that are symbols of an aspect of our faith?

If someone wears a cross around their neck, and touches it when they think of God and pray, does God work through that cross for them? Or is it pointless, irrelevant to God, something he doesn't use to bring us closer to him?

If someone sees a beautiful wild flower while hiking along a river - is that a sign of God's grace? Is it an offer of grace, moving us to thank him for the creation? Or is it not God's way of bringing us closer to him, and merely something nice, but not relevant to our faith, which we shouldn't express in physical ways?

Catholics believe that God works through physical expressions of our faith. There is no magical power involved, no incantation that makes appreciation for one flower more powerful than appreciation for another flower, no special type of cloth that makes Paul's handkerchiefs more potent than John's, no metallic properties that allows a gold cross to make prayer more effective than a steel or wooden cross. Yes, there may be a blessing whereby we ask God to allow the cross, or handkerchief, to be used for his glory, and be a reminder to us of his grace. But it's not magic. It's real. We believe that, when we use something like a cross or a handkerchief - or a flower - as an external symbol of our faith, God uses that to come to us in a very real way. That object, as a symbol of our faith, as a reminder of God, becomes a door to God, through which he pours out his grace.

We don't deny that faith without the symbols also brings that grace. But we acknowledge that faith can be enriched when it is expressed in those symbols. Most Protestant denominations acknowledge, to some extent, the significance of laying on of hands for the purposes of ordination and blessing. Adventists do this too. Few people deny that there is nothing special about hands that allow them to emit the power of the Holy Spirit - the only place I've found that idea is in various New Age concepts. But the practice remains a powerful sign, one most people who practice it believe God works through.

The Catholic word for these things is sacramentals. It sounds scary to those not familiar with Catholic-speak. It comes from the same Latin root as sacred, which also means holy - and as any good Bible dictionary will tell you, holy means "set apart" - set apart, dedicated, or consecrated for the glorification of God, in this case, and not, as some might think, sacred in some intrinsic way. The Hebrew equivalent of holy would be qodesh (Strong's 6944) and the equivalent of consecrate or sanctify would be qadash (Strong's H6942.) We've lost that sense of something being set apart in English, and even hagios in Greek.

Sacramentals include the cross, the crucifix, holy oil, baptismal water, salt, palms used just before Easter, and so forth. Some of these are shared by Protestants, some not, and few Protestants call them sacramentals. But the understanding is there, and to some extent a common theology, but not always a common practical application of that theology.

I think that most Adventists, if they put aside any suspicion of things Catholic, will recognise these principles in their own expression of their faith, and in the expression of faith in the Bible. The extent to which we practice this aspect of our faith varies, and the names we give it vary, but I do believe that there is some common ground here.

A final question that I'll get round to answering in the future - does God's grace come to us only when we ask for it? Or does God give it, and all we do is accept it or reject it? Is the reception of grace our work, or God's?

What Imus and Cho Have in Common (Anniversary Edition)

Today marks the beginning of RTAW anniversary week. RTAW's anniversary is this coming Friday, 27 April. I want to thank Marcel for creating this space in which we share our hopes for becoming co-conspirators with God in what God is doing in the world.

: : :

Neither the methodology nor rationality of the oppressor is just: thus it is doomed to fail: almost immediately for the less powerful and for the more powerful sooner or latter inevitably.

A few weeks ago "shock jock" Don Imus consciously, intentionally, knowingly chose to refer to women playing in the NCAA Basketball Finals as "nappy-headed hoes" latter billing the match-up for his listeners as the "jiggaboos" versus the "wannabes." Imus' disrespect comes as little surprise. He has a long history of slur and slander against Blacks, Africans, Asians, Latinos, Jews, Arabs, women, homosexuals, poor and just about anyone he considers not like him. He's an equal-opportunist xenophobe, as the always incisive and insightful Dr. Cornel West points out. And he was paid handsomely to be so.

But the story that a middle-aged white man of means in America showed himself to be (or made his living as a) racist and sexist is not news to me. He is not the first, nor will he be the last. Not that what he did is not at all news worthy, but his misogynistic or otherwise bigoted views seem almost beside-the-point to me.

The thing that did capture my attention regarding the Imus coverage the first half of April was the power dynamic. You see, power matters, and Imus had plenty of it, which he used unrepentantly to pummel with impunity the dispossessed, disenfranchised or otherwise already marginalized. Don Imus had a nationally syndicated CBS radio show that was simulcast on MSNBC (how much money was he making?), which NPR reporter David Folkenflik further characterized as attracting "an educated, affluent audience" (I wouldn't know; I've never listened to him). Most interesting to me, again, was not that this was the case; however, I was floored by the sheer number of "educated, affluent" folks who unreservedly championed Imus' "right" to continue to do so. It was as if the unapologetically privileged got together and with one voice declared, "How dare you have a problem with us continuing to exercise our privilege at your expense? Your indignation is absurd. This is the way it's supposed to be. Haven't you gotten the repeated memos?"

And I've had my fill of those so indoctrinated by an imperial agenda that they are too blind to see: neither hate, discrimination nor any other form of exclusionary practice or language is a First Amendment issue. Freedom of speech does not guarantee one the right to be heard. Hate does not deserve a publicly facilitated audience (e.g. radio and television air waves), and those who resource it privately deserve whatever peaceful (particularly financial) backlash they get.

Then comes the story of Seung Hui Cho to redirect our attention. The Western world cries out in horror at the massacre he perpetrates on VA Tech's campus--"the single largest act of recorded hand-gun violence on US soil in American history" (the emphasis on certain phrases is important because the Western world has made a habit of selectively recording its dubious history, particularly that which has involved what we would call "state sponsored terrorism" if it were directed at us from the outside). And so we should weep, but not just for Cho's victims. For he was a victim as well... of the Don Imuses of the world.

The portions of Seung Hui Cho's multimedia manifesto released to the public heretofore read like the diary of the oppressed who had finally been transformed to embody the rationality and methodologies of his oppressors. Having bought the Imuses' propaganda, rather than joining them, he purposed to beat them with a ferocity commensurate to his own afflictions and pain. What I believe Cho and many others like him fail to realise though is that neither the methodology nor rationality of the oppressor is just: thus it is doomed to fail: almost immediately for the less powerful and for the more powerful sooner or latter inevitably. Though I confess to loving the whole V is for Vendetta fantasy of striking a crippling blow to the imperial system on behalf of the oppressed while somehow avoiding harm to any innocents, that's all it is: fantasy.

Don't misunderstand, I am in no way defending, justifying or excusing what Seung Hui Cho did. I just believe we need a good dose of "the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth" as we try him in the court of public opinion. In so doing, I hope we see the need to indict ourselves as well.

If you're struggling to connect the dots, consider this quote from one of Cho's high school and college classmates, Chris Davids, as reported on npr.org:

In an English class during high school, a teacher threatened Cho with a failing grade for participation unless he read aloud as the other students had. Cho [a Korean immigrant] started to read in a strange voice that sounded 'like he had something in his mouth,' Davids said.

'As soon as he started reading, the whole class started laughing and pointing and saying, "Go back to China!"'

Don Imus behaves as if his privilege (power & prerogative) entitles him to further marginalize and/or humiliate anyone he so desires. Isn't that what happened to Cho--by his own admission and the admission of others?

Well, you might say, "Crowding someone out--pushing him to the margins--doesn't give him the right to lash out." Sure. Yet I ask along with Langston Hughes, "What happens to a dream deferred"--dreams of belonging and significance, security and prosperity, dreams of equity? What is one to do when she runs out of space at the margins? How do we critique his or her means of survival (those with less power and prerogative) without also critiquing our own (those with more)?

I'm reminded of the closing scenes of Malcolm X, the movie, in which a series of persons from all over the globe (ending with Nelson Mandela) stand up and declare, "I'm Malcolm X!" It seemed to spawn a whole genre of "I wanna be like ______" commercials. We are so quick to associate ourselves with the best and the brightest. Perhaps it would be cathartic to own our demons as well: "I too am Don Imus!"

What I'm afraid will happen instead is that we will disassociate ourselves from both Imus and Cho, choosing to see ourselves as the unwitting victims of both, much like VA Tech affiliate Marissa Itte:

'In a lot of ways it makes it better to know he's just a crazy person. That is just completely not our university's fault. This has nothing to do with anyone else. This is just his issue' (npr.org).

The only hope I see in overcoming this inevitable, vicious cycle of violence and counter-violence is to abandon and subvert the rationality and methodology of anyone, any institution and/or any system that seeks to justify or legitimize gain at the expense of others as a valid means to an end. But wait a minute... wasn't abandoning and subverting the dominant power structures the way of Jesus?

Well, at least we don't have to re-invent the wheel.

[To continue the conversation of abandoning and subverting the cycle of violence and counter-violence and its relationship to the way of Jesus, be sure to check out author Brian McLaren's forthcoming book Everything Must Change: Jesus, Global Crises, and a Revolution of Hope (Nelson, October 2007).]

Ministries & Millionaires...

Do these two concepts mix? Seems to me there are more evangelists out there preaching prosperity now than ever. Also, there are a lot of gimmicks. You know, I once saw a televangelist (name witheld to protect the guilty) who would wipe his brow with handkerchiefs while preaching- then sell the used cloths to the highest bidders, promising that the owner of these sweat-laden artifacts would be healed of whatever ailed them. I believe in spiritual gifts, but this is nothing less than snake-oil spirituality.

The more I get to know Jesus and His rag-tag band of misfits, the more I wonder if ministry is ever supposed to make people church celebrities or enviably wealthy. The richness of the love & grace we know is far greater than the thrill of owning a mansion, a Lexus, a jet or any other luxury. I’m not saying it’s wrong to have money or enjoy things, but it frays my nerves to see people in ministry being waited on and living luxuriously while the working class gives faithfully and poor old ladies are sending in their last social security dimes to support their ministries. To me, the truest ministry gives, not takes. Big church musicians & evangelists do some good, but how much more could be done if satisfied with a more simple lifestyle & image?

The late Rich Mullins once sang, in reference to Christ and His unwillingness to cater to popular religious thought, “They couldn’t own You, 'cause You didn’t own a home.” Rich was a successful musician who lived in a simple trailer with very few possessions. But he was wealthy beyond measure. People remember Rich as a servant, not a flashy rich guy vying for admiration.

Many Christians live to excess and it's one of the biggest turn-offs to curious onlookers. (At times, I've also been guilty of this- I mean how many pairs of shoes does one girl need?) However, we can only own possessions to a certain point, then they begin to own us. Why have a house so large you don't even use all the space and have to hire help to clean? There are worthy students out there who could use some tuition money and missionaries who could use sponsorship. There are families out there who have little food or transportation. The blessing of scaling down is that it allows us to give to others. If the Christian community was doing it's job, perhaps we wouldn't need welfare? At best, we tend to take care of our own and let everyone outside our social circle fend for themselves. There is much to be said for simplifying our lives. :o)

I'm not an advocate of the BIG church mentality, nor do I believe in prosperity preaching that preys upon greedy human natures. A gospel of this kind is legalistic, telling people that as long as they keep all the rules & put thier 10% in the plate, they will be blessed, but if they mess up, God won’t smile on them anymore. Is this not the way Jews of old believed? This mentality discounts the text that says, “God causes the rain to fall upon the righteous AND the unrighteous.”

Since my husband and I lost everything recently after 11 yrs in ministry. There are a few who are convinced that we've done some "secret sin" for which God is now punishing us. Such an attitude is quite judgemental. Christ was poor- what did He do to deserve it? We don’t get to choose our parents, but He actually chose a common girl as His mother- not a lady from high-society. It was Jesus message of love that made Him great- not His image or His stuff.

The Beauty of An Open Heart

I have fluctuated all over the place in my spiritual journey. Bottom line? I want to know God. There were many things I did in the past that made me look good. However, in any quiet moment, the fact remained that I still had a sinful heart and wasn't sure what to do with it. This is a reality we all must face sooner or later in order to grow.

As humans we do not have perfect judgement- we are ALL wounded people, so we deal with things the best way we can. Some have better coping skills than others. We try to soothe the hurt inside so many different ways. I choose to give people the benefit of the doubt. Most people do not deliberately do something they know is wrong. Yes, what they do may BE wrong, but in their minds they feel it is the reasonable thing to do. I knew those who lived in poverty because they couldn't get a job. They were willing to steal a car and felt justified because the money for it fed their kids. YES, sometimes people do bad things for a good cause.
Likewise, many of those in churches are hard on each other because they feel justified in doing so. After all, we often take responsibility for one another's salvation- as clearly shown by statements made at the 'Evangelism Rally' I attended last weekend.

I've turned a corner in my journey. God is taking me a step further and putting more of His heart of love in me. He cannot hate or despise anyone. He's not about "Us" against "Them". Yes, He frowns on harmful behaviors, but God hates no man or woman. He is not a far distant observer. He dwells among us daily feeling such tender compassion for the mess we're in. None of us asked to be born into a world of death & decay. He understands the woundedness in every heart that nobody else can see and loves anyway. That is why God ALONE can judge the hearts of men.

To despise anyone goes against the higher nature. It is an uncomfortable state of mind for a Christ follower to be hateful toward anyone and I wish to have no part of that. Finding freedom in the love of our Father opens the heart to love everyone else... male or female, slave or free, rich or poor, black, white or indigo! (Yes, even the people who mistreat us.) Our God is big enough to fill us with overwhelming compassion for ALL humanity. "He is our peace, Who has broken down every wall". Amazing God!

I now understand what Apostle Paul meant when he wrote, "Show me your faith and I will show you my faith by my works (actions)". Read in context, he wasn't talking about keeping 10 Commandments here. He was talking about living decently, in an attitude of loving-kindness & service toward all. Don't believe it? Look at the respectful way Paul treated his jailor, no doubt a man with a calloused heart. Most prisoners would have high-tailed it out of that place, never looking back, but Paul stayed and the warden became a converted man. Love breaks down barriers. The jailor may have held the whip for the beatings endured, yet Paul had compassion for the man's soul. Undeserved kindness, unmerited favor is what Grace is all about.
This challenges me to open my heart further. To despise or fear no one. Jesus was willing to meet with a Pharisee who was embarassed to be seen with the "rabble-rouser". Nicodemus was sincere, but sought Christ at night, so his precious reputation in the synagogue wouldn't be spoiled. Later, we learn that Nic was converted. What if Jesus had turned away from him simply because he was of the order of the Pharisees? Jesus didn't shut anyone out. I have been a Pharisee for much of my life- it was trained into me from early-on. For all my efforts and boasting, I was in darkness. Suddenly the light of the Gospel came on and the power of God is changing me. I know He can do the same for others like me.

There is NO sin in recognizing churchianity/legalism and seeing it for what it is. But if I turn my back and write off those I consider legalists- I am simply reversing the discrimination. How will love reach them? I have not arrived, I'm still learning this walk, but I feel a boldness growing in me. A love undaunted by the actions of others. I refuse to argue. I will no longer tolerate abuse, but in making a stand, we must remain benevolent to all.

The beauty of an open heart is that it loves- for the sake of loving. This gift can only come from God.