Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Religion

All posts relating to religion, including those on the relationship of religion to other fields, such as science and politics

  • Losing Our Sense of Mission

    When it rains it pours, so I’ve been seeing a lot of posts about mission lately, and here’s another one that raises some very interesting points. (HT: Kouyanet).

    Having served on and led short-term mission teams, grown up with long-term missionary parents, and served on mission committees, I find that a great deal of this resonates with me. Read it all and give it serious consideration. This is to be a series. I intend to follow it.

    One thing that strikes me is that minor changes in the details are not the solution to the various problems (see Of Resources and Mission Priorities and Worship, Service, and Mission). Our problem is that we don’t view ourselves as on a mission in the first place. We view the church as a way to provide a moral education to our children, a place for networking, and in some cases a route to salvation.

    Perhaps our committees, agencies, and denominations lack a sense of mission because our members lack a sense of mission. Perhaps that lack of a sense of mission comes from a lack of understanding the basic gospel message.

     

  • Of Resources and and Mission Priorities

    I received two requests for help today. One was from a pastor overseas. He didn’t ask for money. He asked for prayer. I happen to know he needs money. But his most earnest desire is that Jody and I pray for him.

    I also got another request in the mail. It comes from an organization that does much good. They are raising money for a substantial building project that will make things more convenient, even much more convenient, for people in this country who are preparing to be missionaries. The amount is in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe a thousand times the amount that would relieve the pastor’s need.

    What am I to do? I am not naming any organizations, because I don’t want to criticize them. I don’t know what the needs are or whether the kingdom will be built by this particular expenditure. But I do have to look at where I put my very limited resources. (In case you’re wondering, being in the Christian publishing business, at least in the manner in which I practice it, is not the road to great personal wealth!)

    But it’s not just this particular project that concerns me. It’s the proportion of our resources that go to providing for our comfort, for making it easier for us to do whatever we do, as opposed to the amount we put where it’s needed. I think of this when I see large recreation centers attached to churches that are empty most days of the week. Now I understand the need for places for sports and social interaction. In fact, a great deal of ministry can be carried out by providing a place for young people. But I know of more than one church that closes its facilities to outsiders. They want to avoid “those people” getting in there and perhaps damaging things or causing an increase in their insurance rates.

    I understand liability issues. I really do. But I don’t recall Jesus saying to do good to the least of these only when there was no risk. As a matter of fact, the gospels record that Jesus did it at a rather great risk. So many times we have facilities built that are just to entertain those who are already in the church.

    Again, I understand that people need rest and recreation. The church does need to provide for its members. But the ultimate purpose of providing for members is building the kingdom, and that means getting those members to go out and serve others.

    And so we come to church sanctuaries. In many churches the only use of the sanctuary is for a worship service on Sunday morning. That has to make it the most wasted piece of architecture around. One or two additional meetings a week may make it a little bit better, but it’s still underutilized space, space we pay a great deal of money to have.

    This isn’t the complaint of someone who doesn’t appreciate church architecture. I really like a majestic church sanctuary. I enjoy being in it. I enjoy sitting in the pews. If it has stained glass, it’s even better. A pipe organ? I’m in ecstasy. Just play it and let me look at the windows.

    But that’s the problem. I like it. It’s for me. The question is, just how much money should go to pipe organs and stained glass as opposed to feeding the hungry. I’m not saying we should put an end to all church music, or eliminate all church architecture, but what are the priorities? Where is the balance?

    In doing ministry in southern Mexico in the 1960s, my parents lived in a building with rough concrete floors (just try to sweep them), with a tin roof and walls that were not solid, so rain could blow in. My dad was a doctor (MD), and my mother a registered nurse. They could have had a great deal more, if they’d chosen to go to work in Canada (their home) or in the United States. But most of the time they didn’t, and when they did, they sought underserved areas. There were many things they wanted that they could not have. My own life is not without its problems, but I keep comparing it to theirs. What were their priorities? What are mine?

    I have had wonderful times of worship in fine church buildings, but I’ll never forget worshiping with a small Gypsy congregation in eastern Hungary on the first mission trip I led there. I was to speak. I had been a bit disoriented, because while I had been overseas before both as a child and young person with my parents and on mission trips, I had never been to a country where I couldn’t speak a word of the language. My Hungarian was such that the couple of words I had learned were potentially dangerous. I didn’t understand what people were saying.

    The room was small, too small for the number of people. The floor was concrete. The building was not beautiful. They had a small electric keyboard that would have been discarded had it been in one of our churches here, or probably even in a home as a child’s toy. Someone started playing it, and the people started singing. I didn’t know the words, but I felt the Spirit that was in that place. In fact, I have rarely felt the presence of the Spirit more than in that particular meeting.

    They didn’t need the things that we all think we “need.”

    Do we?

     

  • Robert Reich on Immigration

    Robert Reich exposes some myths about immigration. I’d have a couple of quibbles (I wish “myth” weren’t used in this way, for one thing), but they wouldn’t change the overall result. This is why I don’t worry about immigration. In fact, our paranoia about immigration costs more than immigration, in my view. I favor treating aliens as “the citizen among you …” (Leviticus 19:34). And yes, I’m aware of the hermeneutical issues with using that verse, but I choose to borrow the phrase nonetheless.

  • Of Creation, Evolution, and Worship

    There are few topics that get Christians more angry at one another than the subject of evolution. Those who accept a young earth (or young age for the universe) tend to think that those who accept the theory of evolution do it simply because they lack the faith to believe the Bible. To them, this is the first step toward rejecting Christianity and becoming an atheist. Those who accept the theory of evolution often think the young earthers are ignorant, perhaps willfully so. (All of this ignores the broad sweep of views between young earth creationism and a purely materialistic view of origins. There are many nuances on the line between the two. But that is a subject for another blog post.)

    I disagree with both those viewpoints. Irrespective of my own beliefs (and I’ll get to those in a moment), I have met too many dedicated Christian believers whose faith is nurtured by Scripture and also accept evolutionary science to imagine that acceptance of evolution is necessarily the first step on the road to unbelief. I have also met too many intelligent and capable individuals who accept a young earth to believe that they are all ignorant or stupid. As a matter of principle, I never want to imagine someone is stupid because of their view on a single issue, nor do I want to think them immoral because of their view on one moral issue. Someone who is intelligent, competent, and functional, and yet believes something I find ridiculous, does not thereby become generally stupid.

    As an example, my dad was a doctor (MD), and an excellent one. Yet he believed in a young earth and a literal creation week his entire life. I’m not going to go down the route of believing that he was somehow less capable of carrying out his profession in a competent fashion, which he did all his life, because of one issue. There’s the family connection there, but I know a number of other people in similar situations.

    In spite of this, I  am not arguing a middle of the road position. I have a firm position on creation and evolution. I was raised with young earth creationist literature. I devoured the literature written by George McCready Price and Frank Lewis Marsh, icons of my Seventh-day Adventist upbringing, as well as many others. I did not begin to doubt this view because of studying science. In fact, I changed my position through a study of Scripture. It all started when I wrote a college paper examining the text of the genealogies of Genesis 5 & 11 and looking at the resulting chronology. Archeology did enter into it, as I looked at the dating of events that would be required to match that chronology, but characteristics of the text itself first suggested that we did not have literal history there. Nothing I have studied since has changed my mind on that point.

    9781938434723mBut I’ve written on this subject many times before. Just try typing “evolution” in the search box. I’m writing this because I’ve just sent a book off to the printer titled Worshiping with Charles Darwin. That’s a provocative title. Carol Everhart Roper designed a provocative cover to go with it. That was intentional. It’s not actually the most controversial book I’ve published, even on this topic, but I’ve focused on the controversy. That’s marketing, but it also comes from conviction.

    I look at this from two perspectives. First, as a Christian and a church member, I believe that this is a non-essential. That God is creator is an essential. How God created is not. I think we should have tolerance and respect in the church on this issue. But my belief in tolerance and respect does not mean that I don’t have a firm position on the issue myself. I believe that God is the creator of heaven and earth and that through the study of the world by the methods of the natural sciences we can learn how creation was accomplished and how the physical world functions. I believe we are in error both in theology and in science when we try to impose our theology on the findings of science. It’s bad theology because to claim that what we learn from the natural world is not reliable we make God a liar. It’s bad science because it imposes a conclusion prior to the data.

    Thus I would be called a theistic evolutionist, though I object to the label. I am a theist, in that I believe in God. But my theism is not a characteristic of my acceptance of the findings of evolutionary science. Though I am strictly an amateur in any scientific endeavors, I do not modify the findings of science by saying “and God.” This is not because I do not see God in the natural world. It is rather because I see God everywhere in the natural world and not more so in one place or another. I do not see God more in my cat’s purr than I do in a pencil falling. Both things result from God. Science tells me how. Science does not discover God at some specific point. Science is studying God through studying God’s handiwork. But science does not improve its study of the handiwork by trying to pretend to find God at some specific point. That is why I don’t like linking the word “theist” to “evolutionist.”

    But I also object to the word “evolutionist.” Evolution is not my philosophy. It is not my religion. It is not an article of my religious faith, though the fearless pursuit of accurate knowledge is. I am not an evolutionist any more than I am a gravitationist. I believe that gravity functions as science describes. I believe that evolution functions as science describes. I believe we will discover more about how each of these works. Neither gravity nor evolution is an object of my faith or trust. My trust in science is based on the method, a method that has proven functional repeatedly. It is not a matter of perfection either. Science will produce new results and alter previous understandings. But it has proven effective at correcting its own errors.

    Now people who believe what I do about evolutionary science have tended either to keep quiet in church or to simply say that we believe the Bible teaches that God is the creator and the how doesn’t matter. I don’t agree with these approaches. What I think we need to do is think about how the discoveries of natural science impact what we believe about God and how they change how we tell the story of God the creator. Genesis 1 & 2 told the story to the ancients. We can listen in to that story and learn theology and generate our own liturgy. But I think to tell the story as faithfully as it was told so long ago we need to tell the story of the creator in the light of what we know about cosmology and origins. Belief that God has used evolution as the means of diversifying life here on earth, and presumably elsewhere in the universe, is not a withdrawal from an area of faith. Rather, it is a new look at the expanding story of God and our knowledge and experience of God. We need to tell that story faithfully and vigorously.

    And this brings me back to the title of this recently released book. We could pretend that the discussion doesn’t matter, but that would not be faithful to the search for truth or to the integrity of the way we proclaim the gospel. I know of people for whom this issue has been a stumbling block. It’s time to talk about it openly. We’ve been arguing about it vigorously, but that’s not what I mean. We need to start looking at the implications and talking about how we tell the story of the gospel faithfully in the world God created and is creating. I think that is something worth celebrating.

    Bob Cornwall has taken up one part of that task. I hope the conversation continues to grow.

  • Science and Genesis: Allister McGrath, John Polkinghorne, N. T. Wright, John Walton, et. al.

    Some very interesting points. It’s only fair that Herold Weiss, whose book Creation in Scripture I publish, would disagree with some of John Walton’s views, while affirming the broader ideas about how to read an ancient text.

    (HT: Allan R. Bevere)

  • David Alan Black on Dealing with Hardship

    I posted on my company’s blog today about writing to communicate, but I didn’t cover one important aspect: Transparency. Transparency isn’t a technique or a policy. It’s an attitude and a moral commitment. It says, “I’m not going to lie about how my life is going. I’m going to let people see what is real.” A speaker, teacher, or writer will be forgiven many, many faults if he or she is transparent.

    I’d like you to read one of Dave’s posts today. If you are one of the many who have appreciated Dave’s ministry and teaching, you’ll want to read it for the update in any case. I have Dave’s permission to copy from his blog any time I want in marketing his books, but this isn’t about marketing, and I feel it should be read in the context where it is. Right now it’s at the top, but if it has moved (those who know how Dave blogs know what I’m talking about), just scroll down to Thursday, June 13 and then to 6:02 AM.

    And follow the directions … you’ll find it worthwhile.

    And do remember to pray for Dave and Becky!

     

  • My Pastor on Science and Theology

    My pastor, Dr. Wesley Wachob, comments on science and theology in his current letter to the congregation, though it is mostly quoted from John Polkinghorne. I wish more pastors would address these issues with their congregations.

     

  • The Role of Pastors

    Dave Black writes about a book on 1 & 2 Timothy and notes that Timothy was not a pastor. Historically, this is quite accurate.

    I find it interesting the things that “church folks” think must be done by a pastor. At one conference where Jody and I were invited to teach, there was a call to come forward for prayer at the last session. All the pastors, i.e. the ordained folk, were invited to come forward and pray with people. We, the unordained, were not. Was it an oversight? I didn’t feel any need to be up there with the pastors, but it is a way of thinking, and I think not a way of thinking that is helpful in building the church. All the gifts need to be used and everyone needs to be involved. Prayer is certainly not limited to ordained clergy.

    I want to quote Bob Cornwall, another one of our Energion authors, who is part of my editing work right now:

    In the course of the journey we will take together, we will consider more fully the nature of God’s church, its calling to be in the world, and the gifts of the Spirit that enable us to fulfill our call to ministry. If the phrase “call to ministry,” seems narrow and limiting, it’s important to note that while some among the people of God have been set aside by ordination for specific forms of ministry that center on leadership and teaching, all Christians have been called to share in the ministry of the Spirit, a ministry that pushes us beyond the walls and into the world, for that is where the Spirit is at work. Indeed, we’ve all been given a “manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7). And when Paul speaks of the common good, it’s likely that his vision is broader than simply the faith community itself.

    Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the stranger who enters our churches could see God’s presence in such tangible ways that their lives would be turned upside down? This can happen when we open the gates of our hearts and let the Spirit begin to move, bringing to us God’s power and gifts so that our lives will be transformed and we can become agents of God’s reconciling love. In the following pages we will see how God can accomplish this through our churches. (From the introduction to Unfettered Spirit, pp. 12-13.)

    I would go even further and question whether ordination is something limited to only one sort of ministry, but that’s for another post.

  • Explaining Tragedy (Or Not)

    There have been a large number of blog posts following John Piper’s pair of tweets regarding the tornadoes in Oklahoma. Examples include Rachel Held Evans, Chaplain Mike, and Energion author Joel Watts (From Fear to Faith: Stories of Hitting Spiritual Walls). (Energion is my company, so that’s my commercial plug for the day/week/etc.)

    I want to comment briefly (don’t laugh) on the idea of explaining suffering, and what comfort such explanations can bring. The answer is that explanations are inadequate, and very little comfort results from the explanation. Nonetheless, we seek explanations, and when we’ve found them, we often find it impossible to resist “helping” others with the profound knowledge we’ve gained.

    Well, I have some knowledge gained from experience, and my knowledge suggests that all this knowledge may be less helpful than we think. Am I saying that my knowledge is better than your knowledge? Not precisely. I’m saying that I’ve come to realize that both my knowledge and your knowledge about tragedies will often not be helpful at all to others. Sometimes it’s most helpful to admit our ignorance. After all, we don’t really know the why of every event.

    It took me some time to learn this. The key event was experiencing loss and living with grief together with my wife. You see, Jody and I find very different things comforting. I’ll admit to one similarity between us. We both tend to try not to bother the other with our grief. But beyond that we seek different ways of dealing with grief, we are bothered by different things and at different times, and yes, you guessed it, we explain troubling events differently.

    I see God as sovereign, but in a much different way than Reformed theologians do. I believe that God in his sovereignty has decreed freedom. God had created freedom into the universe itself. There are events that cannot be explained as having some sort of specific purpose. Those events did not result from God’s specific will other than that he willed that the creation have such freedom. Tornadoes, in my view, are the result of simple physical cause and effect. I prefer this explanation. It’s as comforting to me as an explanation is going to get. I don’t have to think about angry gods hanging out waiting to swat me (or anyone) down because of our sins or other annoying behavior.

    As a result, explanations that say “It’s God’s will” don’t do anything for me. Of course it’s God’s will. But God’s will was expressed through scientific laws and the freedom (randomness, perhaps?) that God has willed in the universe. Thinking of it as specifically God’s will, as in God rewarding or punishing the behavior of certain folks simply gets on my nerves. This is not because I think God couldn’t do that. Rather, it’s because of the truly ridiculous contortions people go through in order to explain how this particular person, building, or locale was more deserving of God’s wrath than any other. Explanations that suggest how we all deserve to be killed, but God simply chose to kill a certain group, sparing the rest of us, raise for me the specter of a fickle and unreliable God.

    My wife, on the other hand, while not being Reformed, likes to think of the good that is brought about through a tragedy. She believes God puts limits on tragedy and then works to bring out good results from the bad things that happen. This is not the same as saying that God caused a specific tragedy to happen.

    Yet for some people, the most comforting thing is to think that God is controlling everything. What this provides is the assurance that things won’t run out of control. This is why, I believe, that John Piper can think of his posts as comforting. To some people, they are comforting.

    There can be a nasty side to this when someone decides that they are safe because they are one of God’s special friends, and therefore are not subject to tragedy. Life usually gives the lie to this viewpoint, which can be tragic in many ways. Sometimes friends, like Job’s friends, decide that the once “holy” person must have offended God in some way so that tragedy struck. In this case the “it was God’s will” explanation may be used not as comfort but as a means of separating oneself from the tragedy. “If it happened to you because you committed some sin, then I am safe from it because I didn’t commit that sin,” is the thought.

    But I think that most people simply present an explanation that makes sense to them, and that comforts them, in the thought it will comfort others. If you’re attempting to take that approach, think carefully. Your best explanation may be totally unhelpful. Listen, be prepared to help, and let people come up with their own explanations.