My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have the desire in all I am doing.
I hope from that desire,
and I know that if I do this
you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore I will trust you always,
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
I just finished reading Chasing Francis by Ian Morgan Cron. Cron is an Episcopal pastor with a interesting postmodern/emergent/liturgical slant. In this pseudo-novel, the main character is a successful American mega-church pastor who goes through a crisis of faith. He spends much of the book trekking across Italy tracing the life and thoughts of St. Francis. I appreciate that he admits up front that the book isn’t much of a novel or much of a thought-out piece on ecclesiolgy. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the book even if a lot of it was pretty contrived.
One fakey part I have to point out though. During one chapter our evangelical mega-church pastor has a conversation with a young woman who happens to be a professional cello player. This is the vehicle the book uses to discuss aesthetics. Anyway, during the conversation, our hero mentions that he enjoys the music of Arvo Pärt. Wait a minute! Stop the tape! I’ve known a lot of American evangelical pastors. And with almost no exceptions, not a single one of these guys could tell you the difference between Mozart and Beethoven, let alone claim to be a fan of the minimalist Estonian composer. I remember writing a paper on Arvo in university. He’s written some fascinating music, making extensive use of harmonics in his orchestration. I couldn’t find a real nice example to post here. Sadly, I don’t own any recordings of his works. Here is a something though from YouTube. Pardon the cheesy photo montage.
Anyway, I’ve spent the last two years being drawn toward our local reformed congregation. They have a thriving church here. Some of the following I can only see in hindsight now. Anyway, I’m not directly involved with them now. The thing is, it wasn’t that I was enamored with Calvinism, it was simply the higher culture of many of the people in the congregation, especially some of the leadership. I was so sick of hearing every January sermon laced with Super-Bowl references. I was tired of loving classical music and having the only thing on my pastor’s musical radar be the latest Casting Crowns album. Now I know Christ is neither high-brow nor low-brow. He is neither Vouvray nor Bud Light (nor Pepsi for that matter). The pastor who knows Bach inside out is not higher spiritually than the one who loves NASCAR. Frankly though, I don’t really want to hang out with the racing fan all day. I think he feels the same way about me.
I believe groups of people form communities most of the time based upon their interests, things held in common, and how well they get along with various individuals. Doctrinal distinctives just aren’t often as driving of a force as we make them out to be. I am willing to bet that most churches are divided along lines of culture and demographics, not doctrine. Just some of the leaders think it is doctrine and the people follow, as is appropriate. Anyway, I’m still looking for someone that digs the same music I do. But the Lord will build me into his church based on a lot more than that I think!
I’ve had Thomas Merton’s New Seeds of Contemplation on my reading list for some time now. Cheers to this disclaimer on the first page:
There are very many religious people who have no need for a book like this, because theirs is a different kind of spirituality. If to them this book is without meaning, they should not feel concerned. On the other hand, there are perhaps people without formal religious affiliations who will find in these pages something that appeals to them. If they do, I am glad, as I feel myself a debtor to them more than to others.
Now, contrast this with the the latest offering from someone like John MacArthur:
Thank you for buying this book. It’s a good thing you did! The dispensational eschatology I will proceed to defend in the following 300 pages is so freakin’ important, that if you don’t like it, you probably aren’t really a Christian. God bless you.
Sigh… We love you John. We really do. This book probably isn’t for you though. I guess I’ll see if it’s for me.
God’s omnipotence means [His] power to do all that is not intrinsically impossible. You may attribute miracles to Him, but not nonsense. This is no limit to His power. If you choose to say, “God can give a creature free will and at the same time withhold free will from it”, you have not succeeded in saying anything about God: meaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix to them the two other words “God can.” It remains true that all things are possible with God: the intrinsic impossibilities are not things but nonentities. It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of His creatures to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives — not because His power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God. -C.S. Lewis
I like this quote, it’s a piece of very sound rationalism. Remembering this can keep us from holding on to some of the silly ideas we come with about God. However, that’s all it is: rationalism. It can only be applied correctly to the degree that you really understand what you are talking about. Watch out, for the free will of God’s creatures is a deep and rather mysterious thing; a confusing thing when viewed from the perspective of the creatures (us). It would be wise to reckon there is more to it than you may grasp.
Someone with a straight-forward view of predestination would look at this quote and say, “Well of course. Duh! Is God in control? Well, yes, of course he is. So your not. They’re mutually exclusive. End of discussion.” That’s pretty sound now, isn’t it? Except wait. God’s sovereignty versus our free will is a false dichotomy. It’s possible to have both (in some way), because they are apples and oranges. Now what way is that? It’s a mystery.
In our local university, there is a course called “The Bible as Literature”. I’ve always been told the very idea was the height of sacrilege. Of course, this particular course is taught from an atheistic point of view where it’s not even an option for anything (other than some of the historical references) to actually be true. I’ve always viewed the Bible as a special book that is so different from any kind of other literature as to be off in a special category all by itself. Lately though, I am beginning to realize that this can give us an incomplete understanding of the passage. The holy spirit gives us understanding regardless of how much we understand, but let us strive to understand more.
The Bible is true and divine, but it also IS literature. Each book was written down by a human being and directed, not to just generic Jews or Christians, but intended for a specific audience. It has clear genres. Some of it is straight up history, as reported by a royal chronicler. Job is NOT history literature (regardless of whether or not it describes actual events). Psalms and Song of Songs are poetry. Philemon was a letter written to one recipient. Corinthians was written to a whole group of Greek people, not Jews. Now, all of this seems pretty obvious, so why mention it?
It’s because if you throw these things out (which happens more often than I ever realized), then you can come up with all kinds of goofy ideas. Grabbing a verse from Song of Songs to back up a particular point of doctrine from Romans might not actually work. Really! Revelations is full of metaphors and imagery. When you take something from it and stick it next to some verses from Mark, it may sound more “literal”, but that is only confusion. This is beyond just the idea of context, but stretches to the authors original intention for each particular section of the Bible.
A recent commenter at the Boar’s Head Tavern pointed out an excellent example of this:
Let’s say you are studying Deuteronomy, and right at the beginning of the study, one of your students says the following:
“I’ve been reading this book for years and it clearly teaches that, if you obey and worship God, he will financially and materially bless you. It’s plain and clear. Anyone can read it in chapter after chapter. Obey, worship and God will bring you prosperity and wealth.”
What would be your response? (No seminary level answers allowed. These are regular laypersons.)
I would tell him to be aware of who God’s talking to. The Bible is not God’s personal letter to you, and in this case, he really DID promise Israel prosperity if they as a nation continued in his commandments and his worship. He made no similar promise to any other nation.
Posted by: Josh S
The Bible is not God’s personal letter to me? I’ve been told so many times that it’s his personal LOVE letter to me. Actually, I still think this is true (in some sense), but if you just stop to think, you’ll realize that in many other ways, it never has been. Above is a great example. Can you find an image of God’s love for you in the types and liturgical instruction in Deuteronomy? Yes, I believe you can. But it actually was written for some old guys with beards living in tents in the desert 3500 years ago. The author (God, through a human writer) wasn’t EXACTLY writing it for you sitting on your couch listening to your iPod. That’s fine, but that must be taken in to account!
I hope to explore the different genres of the Bible in the next while and maybe blog some about how that has helped me to understand (and appreciate) it better.
I know our culture will sometimes understand a love for Jesus as weakness. There is this lie floating around that says I am supposed to be able to do life alone, without any help, without stopping to worship something bigger than myself. But I actually believe there IS something bigger than me, and I need for there to be something bigger than me. I need someone to put awe inside me; I need to come second to someone who has everything figured out.
Trusting in Jesus is weak? I counter that the thing that takes the most strength in this life is selflessness. What is the fruit of the spirit?
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control.
The strength the keep loving when your love doesn’t come Bam! right back at you when you desire it.
The strength to move PAST hurt and bitterness in this life and to still live joyfully.
To have the world collapse and not collapse with it but be at at peace, even when in prison, or in genuine despair.
To power to be kind when it gains you nothing immediate and may not even be deserved by the one receiving it.
The restraint to be gentle when barging through is easy.
All of these things flow not from within, but from the spirit of the living God!
This is real strength.
Where does my help come from?
Not from my own talents, skills, intellect, physical strength or money. My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.
Glory be to the Lord, the Creator, and to Jesus, his anointed one!
Mention of the Holy Spirit summons up up confusion. If a person or group claims, “The Bible says,” you can look for yourself. If they claim, “The Spirit told me,” where can you look? There lies the problem: by definition the Spirit is invisible. Jesus drew a parallel for Nicodemus: “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.” How can we detect a presence that has no shape, no identifiable form? Nevertheless, no one who wants to know God can ignore the Spirit.
The Christian who is enamored with rationalism will always squirm at the mention of the spirit. Who can systematically dissect the whispers of him deep inside the hearts of men? That’s impossible! Better just stick with the books. Except the books speak of the spirit.
The following is kind of a “steam of consciousness” post…
Back to C.S. Lewis’s journey through heaven and hell (The Great Divorce). Here, some light is shed on his theory of hell:
“Then those people are right who say that Heaven and Hell are only states of mind?”
“Hush,” said he sternly. “Do not blaspheme. Hell is a state of mind-ye never said a truer word. And every state of mind, left to itself, every shutting up of the creature within the dungeon of its own mind-is, in the end, Hell. But Heaven is not a state of mind. Heaven is reality itself. All that is fully real is Heavenly. For all that can be shaken will be shaken and only the unshakable remains.”
So passage brings up so many thoughts and connections: The idea that hell is not so much a place of fire and physical torture, as it is a place of being alone. Very very alone forever. I am frequently tempted to retreat back into my own mind, to pull away from other people and from God. This is more than just a personality trait of introverts. It is the enemy coercing me to disengage from relationships. To take a little step into hell.
The mentally insane are classified into different groups depending on how much interaction with other human beings they are able to handle. Everything from those are are a little eccentric and need to live by themselves all the way to the dangerously violent. I think being crazy must be a little bit like hell too.
What piece of scripture is he referring to at the end?
Hebrews 22-29 (NIV):
But you have come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, 23 to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the judge of all men, to the spirits of righteous men made perfect, 24 to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. 25 See to it that you do not refuse him who speaks. If they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, how much less will we, if we turn away from him who warns us from heaven? 26 At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” 27 The words “once more” indicate the removing of what can be shaken–that is, created things–so that what cannot be shaken may remain.28 Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, 29 for our “God is a consuming fire.”
I see the whole creation as the Lord’s great project. The fallen earth and fallen man is being redeemed through death and resurrection. Our hearts and minds shaken, sanctified, our trust in fleeting things laid waste. All throughout history, from Abraham to David, the apostles and the church of today, he is always reforming us. Cutting off branches and grafting new ones in. It is a great work, spanning many lives of men, but just the beginning of his purpose for His creation. What remains will be solid. A solid new earth, solid people.
The thing that reminds me of this verse is the song Shake the Heavens by Kim Hill:
Not to a mountain
Not to a temple
Made of wood and stoneNot to the angels
To the saints assembled
To God on His righteous throne
Not just a trembling of my flesh
But in all consuming fire I rest
You will shake the heavens
As You shake the earth
When the fires fall by Your grace I’ll stand
I’ll join with the angels
As the elders fall
We all cry holy, we all cry holy
We all cry holy, we all cry holy
Not to a system
Not just religion
Empty words and rules
But to true salvation
Holy mediation
The sprinkled blood
Of the one who rules
Not just a trembling of my flesh
But in all consuming fire I rest
You will shake the heavens
As You shake the earth
When the fires fall by Your grace I’ll stand
I’ll join with the angels
As the elders fall
We all cry holy, we all cry holy
We all cry holy, we all cry holy
In the introduction to For All God’s Worth, N.T. Wright describes the incarnation (Jesus) this way:
How can you cope with the end of a world and the beginning of another one? How can you put an earthquake into a test-tube, or the sea into a bottle? How can you live with the terrifying thought that the hurricane has become human, that fire has become flesh, that life itself came to life and walked in our midst? Christianity either means that, or it means nothing. It is either the most devastating disclosure of the deepest reality in the world, or it’s a sham, a nonsense, a bit of deceitful play-acting.
I think this is wonderful imagery! My former pastor, Karl Barden, put a practical spin on it:
If Christianity is anything, it is everything!
If you didn’t catch that, I’ll rephrase it: If Christianity is anything, anything at all, then it must be everything! Service to Jesus should absolutely dominate your life. I think both of these are another angle of the well-known challenge from C.S. Lewis:
I am trying to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I am ready to accept Jesus as the great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on a level with the man who says he is a boiled egg – or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.
So what do we do about this?! Lewis reveals his answer along with the question:
…fall at His feet and call Him (Jesus) Lord and God.
Bishop Wright goes on to prescribe:
…sheer unadulterated worship of the living and true God, and by following this God wherever he leads, whether or not it is the way our traditions would suggest. Worship is not an optional extra for the Christian, a self-indulgent religious activity. It is the basic Christian stance, and indeed…the truly human stance. “Worship” derives from “worth-ship”: it means giving God all he’s worth.
And Barden went on to put in 30 hard years of pastoring a congregation whose mission statement began with:
Lift up the Lord Jesus Christ in worship.
I think all of this is a wonderful place to start! The obvious next question to ask is “What is worship?” or “Can you tell or show me what it looks like?” From there we jump from our high position into a sea of confusion. I really want to come up with a working definition of “worship” over the next month. I think I’ll make it a series on this blog. I’ve had it explained to me many times, and each time, something quite different from the previous definition was being described. I want to work through all of this and come up with something more solid. Maybe it will be a long definition with 20 variations. Maybe it will be really short.
The purpose? Intellectual exercise? No. I want to worship Jesus! I want to do it right. I don’t want to miss something important. I want to teach my children how, and I’m not exactly sure what it looks like.
