I’m waiting till it’s time to head off for our Easter service with my wife, so I thought I’d wish everyone a happy Easter. I don’t expect to post more today, though I’m going to follow an older church practice by talking about Easter through the Easter season. I’m going to call your attention to my short story from last years, Easter Morning Resurrection.
Category: Christianity
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On Being a True Believer
I’ve been thinking of writing this ever since I read Joe Carter’s post Plagued by Certainty, but I haven’t really had the time. You see, while there are certainly many things regarding which I disagree with Joe Carter, I find a certain resonance with his claim of certainty in matters of faith.
This certainty does not extend to the full list, nor has it remained unquestioned throughout my life. Rather, I would call myself a true believer not because I have always been convinced, nor because I have a growing belief, but rather because I have made the maximum effort to disbelieve, and come up a failure.
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Evidence that Demands a Kingdom
Thomas an excellent post on Everyday Liturgy, titled Evidence that Demands a Kingdom. This is part of a series, all of which have been good, but this one struck me most forcefully so far. Go, read it, and check out the links to the rest of the series.
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Distress, Lies, and Christlikeness
I follow Dr. Steve Matheson’s blog Quintessence of Dust very closely, because as I have read what he posts I have found that he has a high level of integrity, and also provides an extremely high density of information in carefully chosen words. Recently he has been posting on the topic of just how one refers to false statements from people who ought to know better.
I appreciate the attention he has been giving this issue, because non-specialists have no choice but to trust the integrity of credentialed scientists, at least in the basic data they present. Interpretation is always a different matter.
Today he has a post On folk science and lies: Back to the basics, in which he digs further into this topic. It’s partially a response to this post by a colleague of his at Calvin College, Kevin Corcoran. Both posts are well worth reading. I provide the second link for those who may not follow all the links, but might I recommend you read this second post when you get to it’s link in Steve’s post? He provides a nice break point so that you can read the second post in context.
I made the following comment, which I’m reposting here, again for the benefit of those who won’t follow the links:
I think you are doing a good job with a difficult topic. The problem is in determining the nature of a statement and the intent of the author. Perhaps that should lead us to call statements “false” rather than “lies.”
I still have a concern here, however. Remember I come at this from a different direction. I’m a Bible teacher and writer at the popular level. I try to communicate things that I study from more serious scholars. At one time I thought I could basically trust information from RtB, even where I might disagree with conclusions.
What I hear from people in the classes and seminars I offer is that they are getting their information from Christian sources, and specifically from Christian sources who claim strong scientific credentials. These same sources are directly or indirectly accusing the vast majority of the scientific community of a conspiracy to deceive. Because of the claim to be Christian and scientifically credentialed, these non-specialists accept their claims.
Hugh Ross falls into that category of trust. I can name any number of people with whom I work who will accept his statements or statements of his associates simply because of his reputation. What responsibility does that place on him? Is there a point where a qualified Christian expert (such as you, Steve), should call him on what he is doing?
It’s not so much the word “lie,” though I continue to have difficulty understanding how a biologist could say certain things that have been quoted here on your blog unintentionally. At a minimum they seem to me to involve negligence.
I take blog posts here, or books by Christian authors whose integrity I have no reason to doubt, and quote the counter-statements. Not being a specialist (it’s not written in Greek or Hebrew!), it’s hard for me to judge.
But from my non-expert’s point of view, that’s what makes the issue of integrity so extremely important. Integrity doesn’t mean always being right, but it does mean being careful, presenting the truth as best one knows it, and acknowledging errors when they are pointed out.
As I have been on the wrong end of some very unChristlike comments, and unfortunately I’ve been guilty of some myself, I’m very conscious of that issue as well. If we can be very, very clear as to what is reliable and what is not without going any further than necessary in making personal accusations, that would be ideal.
I very much appreciate your efforts in this area. If you determine you’ve deviated from the path you set for yourself, you have also clearly demonstrated a willingness to be corrected and to acknowledge errors. All of that gives evidence of your personal and professional integrity.
I remain uncomfortable with this topic, but I regard it as of great importance. I’ll be interested in any comments made here or there.
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Experiencing the (Baptism of the) Holy Spirit
This is a topic where I tend to make just about everyone uncomfortable. Long time readers may recall a previous discussion of speaking in tongues, and my own experience of it. Those who expect me to be intellectually oriented and rational are uncomfortable with mystical experiences, and many who are comfortable with the mystical experiences are deeply troubled by my tendency to analyze.
But the fact is that I am one person, i.e. the same person who examines data about the historical Jesus and expresses skepticism of some of the details recorded in the gospels also claims to experience the risen Jesus in a personal way. So when Adrian Warnock started talking about the experience of Holy Spirit baptism, I decided to say a word or two.
I’m not going to defend my particular theology in this post, but let me simply state that I believe that Holy Spirit baptism can, and ideally should occur at the time of one’s baptism in to the Christian faith. Nonetheless in the book of Acts we have numerous instances where the two experiences are separated. I believe nobody comes to Christ in the first place without the work of the Holy Spirit, but the idea of the baptism of the Spirit involves one personally experiencing and being transformed by it.
At the same time I want to guard against the notion that this experience is singular, that one checks off the boxes of conversion, then baptism in the Holy Spirit, and then one has attained. I don’t like the idea of Christians who have “attained.” I think they tend to fall quickly into pride. I know I would, so if I ever get to the point where I believe I have attained, it will be the surest sign that I haven’t. I know I’d fall straight into spiritual pride without passing Go or collecting my $200.
I do remember a specific experience at the time of my own baptism at age nine. I was in Mexico with my missionary parents and had to convince them and a Spanish speaking pastor that I knew what I was doing. It was the strong conviction that had come on me that made me able to do so. They were very skeptical.
But I want to discuss a later experience, that came when I was working in the church. This happened several years ago. I was trying to get material written for the early stages of Pacesetters Bible School, and I would be interrupted frequently. But one week almost the whole church staff including the pastor was going to be out of town on a mission trip, and I was looking forward to a week of writing with few interruptions. It was not to be.
One of the things about “mystical” or “spiritual” experiences that I have noticed is that they do not occur for my convenience. My Monday of that week happened as I had hoped. I got a great deal done. On Tuesday I was praying through my prayer list. I had an extensive prayer list, and was quite systematic about praying for the people on it. Having checked off my list, I felt that I had done my part in praying for the congregation.
Included on my list were all the college students and all the church leaders. As I began praying through the list that day I was interrupted by a voice. Now all the more intellectual folks and those who are not Christians are permitted here to doubt my sanity. I generally just assume it’s loosely attached. But I did hear a voice. It said, “Stop.”
So I stopped a moment and then started to pray for that person again. Again, I heard “Stop!” Then the voice began to question me about these persons. What were their gifts? Regarding the students it asked me what they were studying, when they would be finished, and what their ambitions were. For the church leaders it asked me what their specific roles were.
Now the fact is that I didn’t know most of this stuff. They were on the staff or on committees, or they were students, so their names were on my list. I didn’t have a clue as to who they were personally. Then the voice asked me, “How do you expect to function as a teacher in the church if you don’t even know what these people are supposed to be doing?”
Good question! But I’m a stubborn person. I argued with that voice for the remainder of the week, from during the morning Tuesday through around noon Friday. By noon Friday I was pretty much done. I think I had a mild idea of how Elijah must have felt when God said, “What are you doing here?” (1 Kings 19:9)
What happened at noon on Friday? Finally I admitted that I needed to change the way I did business. I was all in the books. I planned curriculum according to what I thought people (in general) needed to know. I didn’t really want to know the people themselves. That was messy and took up too much time.
It was a transforming moment in ministry for me. I may be insane to argue with a voice for several days. Each day I returned to the office intending to work, and it didn’t happen. When I shut down and went home, things went back to normal. But that insanity was transforming. People noticed the difference. They would ask me, “Who are you and what have you done with Henry Neufeld?” The main obvious difference was that I started taking a personal interest in people’s lives, their call, and their work in the church. I started to try to meet those needs.
Now this seems fairly obvious in hindsight. Isn’t that simply good people skills? But at the time I didn’t exercise that variety of people skills, and due to my knowledge in other areas, and basic teaching skill, people put up with me anyhow. It took this spiritual encounter–in my view an experience of baptism–completely being overpowered–by the Holy Spirit to get me on track.
