Cross+Purposes

Hell and Gone

2011-09-01T10:54:00.003-04:00

The controversy over Rob Bell's book, Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived (HarperOne, 2011), while itself short-lived, underscores the still-explosive nature of Christianity's message and our culture's allergy to dealing seriously with the real issues of moral agency and ultimate (life / death / eternity) questions in any but a feel-good way. The very big up side is that the conversation the book has generated gets people thinking and talking about eternal issues. One hopes, fruitfully.

Two popular responses have appeared to Bell. One, Francis Chan and Preston Sprinkle's Erasing Hell: What God Said about Eternity, and the Things We've Made Up (David C. Cook, 2011), reaches back into the Old Testament and Jewish popular piety of the time to paint a satisfactory, if broad-brush, picture of the background against which Jesus taught, and uses that to uphold classic consensus Christian teaching on the subject of hell and the final judgment. If you've read or seen Chan elsewhere, the tone is the same: conversational with a smattering of theological depth and a decided edge. Short on doctrine (though his sights are squared-in on orthodox Christianity), long on protreptic. All in all, it's a decent review of Biblical teaching on the subject. The one handicap, and it's a major one: Bell's writing is way more winsome and engaging than the Chan-Sprinkle alternative. Despite efforts at tugging on the heart strings, including some personal reflections, Chan ends up saying, "What if God acts in a way that I personally find morally repugnant? Well, God's the free potter and I'm just clay. I just have to deal with it and trust." This reader put the book down grateful for their efforts, but not really satisfied.

Much better is Mark Galli's God Wins: Heaven, Hell, and Why the Good News is Better than Love Wins (Tyndale, 2011). Galli, the Senior Managing Editor of Christianity Today, does two things that Chan and Sprinkle don't quite get to. One, he deals with the question of God's nature and character apart from our experience of it, rightly taking Bell on for staying on the human-experiential plane too much. Two, he makes adequate space for the matter of mystery. Not just a sort of agnostic shrug about things we cannot understand, but a nuanced and thoughtful exploration of how God's justice fits with God's love. It allows him to make a cogent case for why universalism, even the sort of soft-core variety Bell espouses, is really terrible news and not the hopeful, liberating tidings that Bell portrays. Thoughtful Christians interested in engaging the culture should read Bell's book and at least one of the others -- if you have to choose, I'd pick Galli, for the reasons described. This is a conversation that we need to be having with the wider society, which desires to sit in judgment on God and on Scripture while excusing itself from accountability to a just and holy Divinity.

Love demands we be ready to talk about this.

Prince Frederick, 1 September 2011

Top Thirteen

2011-02-06T22:02:00.007-05:00

This morning in the sermon at worship, I put forth a "Top Ten unBiblical Reasons for Not Being in Mission". They were:

#10: They won’t appreciate it – we might even get rejected.
#9: They have their own religion (or way of doing things).
#8: There’s enough to do here at home.
#7: They really don’t deserve it.
#6: We’re just creating dependency.
#5: This is just like socialism.
#4: This is why I pay taxes.
#3: This is why we pay missionaries (social workers, relief workers, pastors, ... etc.).
#2: I can’t be imposing my religion on other people.
And the #1 reason: I don’t want to.

To these, three others have been suggested to me today:
#11. I don't have the skills.
#12. I don't have time.
#13. I'm afraid to ..... (fill in the blank: fly, be far from home, be away from my family, be out of the country, etc.)

All good addtions!

With thanks to Karen VanDuzer.

(Western Shores, Maryland)

A Lying Spirit and Short Staffs

2011-02-06T17:16:00.009-05:00

For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions. (2 Tm 4:3)

It sounds dire, the Apostle's warning, and maybe a little harsh. But when it comes to accumulating teachers to suit the spirit of our times, it seems that we now can choose among 33 new ones on offer: the retired bishops of our connection who authored "A Statement of Counsel to the Church - 2011". (It is easily found on the internet; you can read it here .) They, in what passes for collective wisdom in the UMC these days, call for the removal of the statement in paragraph 304.3 of the Book of Discipline 2008, declaring the practice of homosexuality to be incompatible with Christian teaching.

At this point in the post -- paragraph 2 -- the usual move would be to offer a word or two bordering on being a disclaimer, about how this is a tough issue that Christians of conscience struggle over, the real pain and difficulty it engenders from a pastoral perspective, etc. All of which is true; but frankly, the heart to engage in that kind of irenic dialogue gets cut out by the bits of the statement which are disingenuous, even dishonest.

Take, for instance, the call "to affirm that the historic tests of 'gifts and evidence of God's grace' for ordained ministry override any past or present temporal restrictions such as race, gender, ethnicity, or sexual orientation". This is wrong-headed in two ways. One, the slippery language about "any past or present temporal restrictions" -- in application, this would extend to both behavior and character. And two, sexual orientation per se is not now an impediment to ordained ministry, only acting it out. The bishops know this (and elsewhere in the document as much as admit it); to gloss it over and pretend that orientation itself is a bar to ordination is really inexcusable.

The bishops refer to a "39-year exclusionary stance", a completely bogus reference which is a bit like saying that the teaching of the divinity of Jesus was cooked up at the Council of Nicea in 325, or that John Wesley invented sanctification. The UMC's position on homosexual behavior tracks with classic consensus Christian teaching, and was only articulated with precision as a result of pressure from groups within the denomination which wanted to recognize the "gay" lifestyle as normative. Again, the bishops do -- or should -- know better.

It's tempting to dismiss these folks as has-beens whose leadership has run its course, the last gasp of '70's liberalism before it (blessedly) departs from the church scene. Alas, it is not so easy. Bishop Grove represents one of the brighter intellects among our episcopal lights of recent years, and is the lyricist behind a moving hymn. Bishop Yeakel, who ordained me, I found to be a leader of great compassion and wisdom, and may well be one of the top two or three experts in our denomination on the Discipline. Bishop Schafer shepherded our conferences in Southern Europe during the latter days of a divided East-West confrontation. That this list of bishops includes personalities which can in no way be considered lightweights in our connection, only adds to the sense of sadness and disappointment.

They want to tell us that people are leaving in droves over our present stance, and that young adults (in particular) find it embarrassing and offensive. David Kinnaman of The Barna Group in his book unChristian (1987) amply documented the latter -- but does not address the degree to which this attitude is a function of poor and inept catechizing in our churches -- failing to make a winsome case for sound Biblical ethics with our youth -- combined with a goodly dash of pop culture and media spin. Aside from those who have left the UMC because of the palpable shift toward "liberal" and unscriptural theology and teachings -- often vapid and not life-transforming -- it is impossible to measure those who have seen the United Methodist name or label and passed us by because of our reputation for squishiness on matters of doctrine, discipline (other than organizational!) and ethics. During my time as a pastor, I have my share of stories about those who have left the denomination over our Scriptural anemia -- often when changing locations and churches -- as well as those who visited and joined the churches I or colleagues have served and later revealed, "I/We visited only because (1) we didn't realize it was a UMC or (2) we thought there was no danger of ever joining such a liberal church." They changed their minds after discovering that the Bible was honored and taught, at least in some of our churches.

In the days of King Jehoshaphat of Judah and King Ahab of Israel, as recorded in 2 Chronicles 18, Micaiah the prophet was summoned to bring a favorable word to the two kings, that God would bless their coming battle against Ramoth-Gilead. His presentation must have been ironic and sarcastic, because he is rebuked by Ahab for not being straight with them. At that point, Micaiah reveals that a "lying spirit" had been permitted to take hold of Ahab's court prophets, to seal his destruction because of his rebellion against God.

We live in days when a lying spirit has taken hold in much of the Church of Jesus Christ, as those who are called upon to champion, defend, and commend Biblical teaching find that they have no interest or ability in doing so. This spirit of our age promises success from all sides, while it sets up the Church for tragedy and loss. We need our leaders to stand firm against this lying spirit, not to be taken in by its siren call.

Christian ethics is difficult and often painful. Leadership in the church -- pastoral, episcopal, or other -- often places us in positions where we face (either personally or standing with others) painful choices and challenges which are not negotiable apart from the grace and power of Christ. But the alternative -- selling out to the lying spirit of the age -- results not only in pain and disappointment for individual lives, but tragedy and disaster for multitudes who are influenced by our ministry.

Several times in recent months, I have seen circulated on the internet a e-mail of drawings showing people carrying heavy crosses across a bleak landscape. The central figure in the little strip of pictures says over and over how hard it is to bear his cross -- and proceeds to slice off pieces of it to make it easier and lighter. Then, coming to a chasm which his cross is meant to bridge, he finds that it is suddenly too short. It's a sobering (and in some ways disturbing and problematic) illustration. But there's an element of truth to it which is unmistakable.

The 33 who have signed the "Statement of Counsel" are, I fear, doing something similar with the shepherd's staff of their office as bishops of the Church. By slicing off pieces of the staff of discipline, they may make it appear less formidable, but they also compromise the Church's reach into some of those very areas of culture and practice where our society, our nation, even our congregations most need their loving and faithful guidance and accountability.

The 33 call for other episcopal leaders to follow their example. Prayer and action are both in order. Meanwhile, I pray their call is ignored.

(See also my colleague Ray McDonald's blog on this.)

(Western Shores, Maryland)

An Investment in God's People

2010-07-12T19:46:00.005-04:00

"What difference does it make, homoousios (of the same substance) or homoiousios (of like substance)? "What's the difference between an idol and an icon?" "Do we believe in the perseverence of the saints -- in eternal security?"

Such are the questions -- along with many others -- that I've enjoyed hearing and responding two over the past two weeks at our local denominational seminary.

Friday marked the last day of my classroom commitment to the Course of Study School for this year. COS is a program of The United Methodist Church, an alternative to seminary, a condensed track for those second-career pastors and assorted laborers in the Lord's vineyard who are already working, and for whatever reason (such as an ongoing day job) cannot take three years out for a regular seminary curriculum.

For me, it is two weeks of joy as I have the privilege of opening the vault and turning the lights on to the Christian past for colleagues who are already "in the trenches". Thus I hold a special place in my heart for the COS folks. This is not to take away from regular seminarians -- some of whom, like my own assistant, are also student pastors. But year after year, the COS students are like sponges, eager to learn. They are fielding the questions about the meaning of the sacraments. They are sitting in the hospital emergency rooms offering pastoral care to those families who are struggling with the theology of death and resurrection in the midst of excruciating emotional pain. They are confronting the well-intentioned dragons of parish life: those who want to fight to the death about the color of the carpet or who has a key to the organ -- as Jesus put it, tithing mint and dill and cumin while the weightier matters of justice, mercy, and faith go unattended for a broken and dying world around them.

I get to teach them. But often, I find some of my heroes among them.

Sometimes, it happens in the most obvious of ways. "Dr. Harrell, a member of my church who has been battling cancer just died. I know I'm supposed to be here ... but the funeral is set for Tuesday ...." Of course you belong with that family. At other times, it's the stories of personal vocation in motion, like the law-enforcement officer of the Rocky Mountain region who spends his vacation learning the skills and disciplines he needs to attend a small flock in his hometown. Or the second-career pastor who is pouring her heart and soul out to a dying two-point charge (one church "appointment" with two churches on it) that have already pre-rejected her because of her gender.

The Course of Study is not new. Back in my young buck days when I was a seminarian, I researched the service record of Emmett Eugene Harrell, my great-grandfather. "E.E." was a native North Carolinian, who began his service in the Virginia Conference in 1883, at a time when that conference included a piece of the Old North State. Later, when the conference boundaries were adjusted to conform to the state lines, he was already living in Virginia, and decided to stay there. He was something of a rare bird in his time: studied the theological curriculum at Vanderbilt (then just two years), and, his record said, "completed the course of study" in order to become a probationary member -- then called a member "on trial". Like going to law school and studying for the bar.

There is some talk about bringing back such a system: seminary plus course of study. The question, though, is the ongoing one about whether that would actually bring depth to our candidates for ministry, or whether it's just one more way in which we respond to problems by adding yet another hoop for people to jump through on their way into ministry ... hoops which too often beat the creativity, initiative and -- let's be honest -- spiritual spunk and chutzpah right out of them as we socialize them into the dark side of denominational and conference politics. We seem to be less tolerant of personal rough edges -- and the sharpening they can bring -- than the early Church was. It's doubtful to me that a Paul or Peter or Thomas, a Polycarp or a Cyprian or a Basil, could make it through the candidacy process today.

Meanwhile, the lectures are done for this year. There are still essay questions to grade -- well over a hundred of them -- but this annual chore pales to insignificance when I think of those students, and every year there are a few, for whom the delights of the Christian past come alive, and who light up like Christmas decorations as they get turned on to just how rich and wonderful -- and exasperating and chaotic and yeasty -- their spiritual heritage really is.

I live with the conviction that doctrine matters hugely, because ideas matter. Truth is not just an exchange commodity that is sometimes conveniently useful, but worth living and dying over. This means that theological education is one of the most important ministries of the Church -- in any of her denominational flavors -- for the future. It is not simply a gauntlet to be run. It is, as Jesus said, the "bringing out of the treasures old an new", an investment in God's people now and into the future.

Providence, Prince Frederick, Maryland

Fragments of a Life

2010-02-27T18:53:00.004-05:00

The Scripture says, "You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord." (Leviticus 19:32)

Today was spent with family in Virginia, helping to move a relative who can no longer adequately take care of herself, and who needs, if not constant, fairly close supervisory care. It was the second move -- and the second downsizing -- within the space of a year. Most of her precious treasures, culled from the accumulated substance of a vigorous life, were parted from her the last go 'round. This one is even more severe. Mercifully, events intervened so that she was not present for the actual move, to see her things sifted, sorted, and scattered.

Among the many knick-knacks, framed items and assorted memorabilia that were casualties to necessity today, there were quite a few photographs. Family gatherings. Children. Children's weddings. Grandchildren. And some people whose identities, and therefore stories, were indecipherable to the little platoon of kin whose melancholy task it was today to decide what was really needed, and what not.

One photograph drew nearly everyone's attention. It was a wedding pose, taken outdoors in a grove, with hints of architecture that made the setting look like up north someplace, perhaps among the New York relatives. The photographer's autograph in the corner read, "Bachrach 1923". In the center of the picture, a bride in a simple white dress holding a simple bouquet of flowers -- perhaps carnations or daisies or wildflowers -- gave a wan smile to the camera, in accordance with the custom of the day, even then just emerging from the more severe poses of the previous century. To her left, the viewer's right, a tall young man with round-lens spectacles and a moustache, crisply attired: evidently, the groom. To his left, a young woman whose features could only be described as "handsome" in a dark dress. Perhaps the groom's sister? To the bride's right, another couple. The man, on the left end as I looked at the picture, was throwing a somewhat sardonic or rakish smile. The woman next to him, between him and the bride, was clearly with him. She was attempting to be in the spirit of the occasion. But there was something else in her eyes: was it perhaps fear? or disillusionment -- some deep sadness? Only her eyes gave her away in what was otherwise a perfect mirage of carefree joy.

No one knew the identity of the people in the print -- which had been carefully preserved for many years and was in pristine condition. Guesses were made, possibilities hazarded; but no one could say for sure. Five lives. Five stories. Five young and bold faces, gateways to five people whose mortal bodies are all, almost certainly, dust.

All of us, winding up our journey in this world, leave behind these fragments of a life. Whether it's images in old sepia, a few furnishings and papers, or -- as in the case of our relative -- a small menagerie of glass animals, these bits and pieces so soon become the property, or problem, of those after us. Along the way, they tell something of who we have been, and what has driven us, and to what we have aspired, and whether we have achieved it -- or settled instead for the "possible" and the "expected".

And in the midst of such a personal catastrophe, so periodically predictable in the history of nearly every family, how do we care for those who are going through it? Even where creeping dementia is now accentuating the (usually less endearing) character traits and patterns of thought and action, how can we smooth and ease the passage from one stage of life, one narrowing of horizons and vision -- to the next, so that the journey can be accomplished with dignity and without despair? For each of us is but a few short days and weeks from the same chapter in our own lives.

The ancient law -- God's law -- commands us to revere the elders among us. In so doing, we give new value to our common humanity. And in the example we set our children thereby, we make a statement of hope and a plea for our own selves, farther down life's trail.

(Providence, Prince Frederick, Maryland)

Organizing Community

2010-02-24T19:20:00.003-05:00

There's a story about President Abraham Lincoln, that one day he was in the White House with a rag and some polish, working away on the leather of his boots. As the President was shining them up, in strode William H. Seward, Lincoln's Secretary of State and one of his erstwhile competitors for the presidency -- indeed, a man who seemed to have felt entitled to the office and a worthier candidate for the job than the railsplitter from the Illinois frontier during the race of 1860, and whom some believe to have wanted to be the real power pulling the strings behind the gangly, rough-hewn lawyer from Springfield. Seward -- sufficiently partician never to have condescended to such a menial task -- is supposed to have said, "Mr. President, I don't believe you should be polishing your own boots." To which Lincoln, with quick wit and an even sharper assessment of character, is supposed to have replied, "Well, then, Mr. Seward, whose boots do you think I should be polishing?"

It is one of the sad staples of human behavior, that we attach lofty ideals to unworthy intentions, and never more so than when it comes to neutralizing the dreams and aspirations of others, and maintaining the status quo ante.

Rev. Ken Phelps, rector of All Saints' Episcopal Church in Sunderland, deserves kudos and support for his efforts at organizing the congregations of Calvert County for action in the hopes of breaking down the dividing lines and barriers of race, class, and interest, and using the political muscle represented by the members of Calvert's religious community creatively for the benefit of the wider society. He is not alone: in numerous churches up and down the Route 2-4 corridor that marks the femoral artery within Calvert's boot-shaped territory, like-minded leaders and volunteers are beginning to emerge with the intention of overcoming the divisions and inertia which keep the current state of affairs, the state of affairs for tomorrow. This, while issues like affordable housing, environmental health, and the effective disenfranchisement of minorities through a refined tokenism, hold sway in our midst.

Organizing is a third tier of community ministry response for congregations, Christian and otherwise.

1. The first and most basic level is the provision of direct services. In Wesleyan theological language (representing my tradition), these can be described as "works of mercy". Jesus directed His disciples to feed the malnourished, clothe the ill-clad, and minister to the sick and jailed (Mt 25). He also made statements along the lines of Mt 10:42, to the effect that those who give even a cup of cold water will find a reward.

In Calvert, direct services by the religious community assume many forms, from the provision of foodstuffs through about 8 pantries up and down the county, to emergency housing with Project ECHO and Safe Nights, to the medical care offered through the ministrations of the Lutheran Church, to name three examples. These are important works, and not to be neglected. They also tend to be the most congenial for religious communities, and least threatening -- even with the odd voice which will condemn such ministries as mere band-aids that help to aid and abet the systemic evils which make them necessary in the first place. It is hard to imagine a bona fide religious community not engaging in such efforts, without being totally moribund. Some churches, indeed, are largely organized around them.

2. The second level of social ministry is advocacy: becoming a voice for the voiceless, defending the weak and becoming the empowered proxy for the powerless "widows, orphans, and sojourners" among us. When Catholic Charities or ECHO apply for grants to continue and expand their work, or when testimony is given at meetings of the Commissioners or state government on behalf of the poor or the homeless, when pregnancy care centers plead the cause of children saved from abortion and their mothers, we are in the realm of advocacy. Still fairly congenial because of the social distance often entailed between provider / advocate and client, advocacy still sometimes threatens the tranquility of some minds by crossing over into making a case in the political realm, or drawing on public monies to expand the work. We begin to hear comments like: "The church shouldn't get mixed up in politics." The separation of church and state is held up as an ideal for the church to follow, even negating its first-amendment rights (and therefore responsibilities) -- an abuse of the concept never envisioned by the Founders.

Still, advocacy is a Biblical concept, though we must often seek for it, not in the guise of our western democratic traditions, but the patronage and power structures of ancient societies. When Luke, for instance, makes an appeal to the mysterious "Theophilus" (a person? anonymous "lover of God"? powerful Roman? or the emperor himself?), he is pleading the case for a group falsely charged with subversive activity and dangerous sedition against the principate -- i.e., he is engaging in advocacy.

3. The third -- the most political and therefore the most potentially troubling to the good folks in our pews and sanctuaries -- is organizing. Here we are, again in Wesleyan terms, engaging in "acts of justice" or "works of righteousness", seeking to embody and march with the power of God in history as a sign and foretaste of the Kingdom. Organizing brings people together, not only ecumenically across confessional divides, but on an interfaith basis as faith in God and obedience to the revealed truth of God (however that is held) becomes a motivator for bringing people of faith together to demand accountability and enact positive change. When public officials, understanding that in smaller jurisdictions an election may turn on a few votes, begin to turn out and responsively answer questions from the faithful gathered together, and when injustices long endured whose remedies have been long delayed are suddenly and satisfactorily addressed after the people loving God have banded together, we see evidence of organizing.

The rise of Senator Barack Obama to become the 44th President has, among his political opponents, somewhat tarnished the gleam of community organization in their eyes. This is to be expected. Still, for all that, organizing is also a New Testament concept. We see it in the spiritual realm with St. Paul's call to prayer in Ephesians 6:18. But we also see it throughout the Book of Acts, in the collective community support for Paul as he makes his way to Rome for the purpose of giving testimony before no less than Caesar himself, in the leveraging of the city leadership of Ephesus for his own exoneration of the charge of sedition (Acts 19), and in Paul's use of the resurrection doctrine to leverage a division between Pharisees and Sadducees (Acts 23). The circumstances and institutions are different; however, the skilled use of political leverage through influencing the body politic is constant.

"Keeping the church out of politics" is a perennially-popular cry. It even has some resonance within certain branches of the Protestant Christian family (notably, the Anabaptists, such as the Amish). Recent studies have shown (e.g., David Kinneman's "UnChristian", that young people are turned off by what is seen as the politicization of church life. But this refers to partisanship, not the effective use of civil process. It is a robust social witness within the majority tradition. It was, moreover, precisely through the political action of the faithful that many of the great evils of past centuries have been addressed, such as slavery and prison reform. Organizing is not a weapon to be left idle in the arsenal when great, or even moderate, goals are to be attained.

As with Seward's question to Lincoln, sometimes resistance to the idea of people using their own abilities and power to make positive changes in their lives and others may mask as an appeal to purity, but it is actually a trap that holds the unwary in the thrall of an unjust status quo.

You never know whose boots you may then find yourself polishing.

Providence; Prince Frederick, 24 February 2010

They Looked Wonderful Tonight

2010-02-14T21:23:00.004-05:00

After two weather delays, tonight "Cupid's Cafe" was finally held at Trinity -- ironically and appropriately on the Day of St Valentine. Conceived as a missions fundraiser and patterned on a similar event at one of the local Lutheran churches, it was the vision and labor of love of Liz Osborne, one of our members. A fondue supper, subdued lighting, roses, couple photos, and musical acts mostly by the youth from two churches made up the night.

We were joined by couples from two other area churches, one of which has an annual St Valentine's Day night out, usually at a restaurant: they just did it with us this year. Consequently, the Fellowship Hall was packed. Elizabeth and I sat at table with the pastoral couple from one of those two churches, and with a Trinity couple who had just done the "Weekend to Remember" marriage enrichment event -- and who were clearly highly enriched by the experience. We were enriched in turn by the continuing glow in our conversations at the table.

It was a fun and uplifting night. The kids were great as coat checkers, maitres-d', waitstaff -- and of course, talent. Kenny VanDuzer and Sarah Osborne were the MC's, with a humorous touch: Kenny, as the consummate straight man, was the ideal foil to Sarah's blonde-with-attitude impishness.

There was more than 90 minutes of music, perfectly calibrated to leave us satisfied but not sated, with a 10-minute intermission for last-minute shopping at the silent auction (all proceeds going to World Vision and/or summer youth missions work). The main adult act was a father-son barbershop quartet, crooning a humorous version of Roy Orbison's "Blue Bayou" -- except the words were changed to be about someone's toupee that "blew by you". It brought the house down.

But delightful as that was, it was the kids who made the evening magical. It's impossible to name them all, or to know what was the most stirring. Alex Cooper's singing and playing Mark Schultz's "Walking Her Home" nearly brought tears to my eyes. Audrey Whelan's confident and beautiful rendition of Taylor Swift's "Untouchable" and Jessie Baroniak's solo of "Praying for Time" by Carrie Underwood betrayed a talent that seemed beyond their years. Jessica Park wowed me on the violin: she is a middle schooler who handles third-position fingering with a fluency I wouldn't expect in anyone younger than an collegiate undergrad. And Kenny VanDuzer's smooth vocals on Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight", backed up by Andrew Nalls (guitar) and Nick Harrell (keyboard) were pure romantic class.

A high point of the evening was "Lean on Me", Bill Withers' classic, sung by Kenny backed up by all the young people as a chorus in front of the band. As they were singing, video of World Vision projects and stills of youth missions played on the screen. It made us excited and proud to be part of the evening -- and associated with such a great group of kids, and a terrific church family.

It's easy to imagine the pride of parents, grandparents, and friends. I was one of them.

We closed the evening holding our special person's hand, as well as hands around the tables. The energy sweet and strong, all look forward to fulfilling the promise of tonight being the "first annual" such event, as young Mr VanDuzer announced early on. I look for highlights on the website, and a CD of the evening's highlights has been suggested. That would be a good use for a stack of CD's. God has blessed us with some talented and visionary people, and an awesome program.

Whether it was for one unique occasion, or truly will become a regular part of Trinity's calendar, one thing is for sure. We have some young people who are not only talented, but who "get it" when it comes to putting that talent to work so as to benefit others.

They looked wonderful tonight.

Delusions of Deicide

2010-02-11T19:53:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week, I finally got through Richard Dawkins' popular handbook on anti-religion, The God Delusion (Houghton Mifflin, 2006). In our time, when Christian leaders of every stripe need to pay more attention to apologetic, not least for the benefit of those in our own pews who have often been catechetically shortchanged, this book is a virtual must-read. Authored by a man who has done much to popularize science (indeed, his chair at Oxford is in the "public understanding of science), The God Delusion has made a bit of a splash. For me, reading it has been part of the preparation for a coming teaching series on the core creedal statements of the Church.

Sadly, what one comes away with is less a sense of reasoned critique of theism (Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or any other), but a heavily biased rant, one wants to say the marketing of a highly personal agenda under the banner of "science". A faux-playfully snide and supercilious tone pervades the work, and it is plagued by internal incoherence. (To cite one minor example: on p. 335, he refers to what he considers "reputable" theologians, only later to dismiss all theological reasoning as irrational on p. 360. Dawkins gives, Dawkins takes away ....) Basic categorial and history-of-ideas errors pervade Delusion, as his univocal use of the term "reason" across time and without definition (even though it is a cornerstone concept), and his conflation of "religious faith" and "religion", oblivious to the elementary distinction between fides quae creditur and fides qua creditur. In other words, he doesn't know what constitutes what he doesn't know. Dawkins claims to want to free the world from the chains of religious mis-thinking, especially where it touches the young; but put into action, his recommendations would take us to the secular police-state, where under the banner of "freedom from religion" an atheistic orthodoxy would trample on expressions of faith. (A chilling example of this nascent cognitive imperialism can be found on p.57, where he confidently maintains that fellow scientist -- and atheist -- Stephen Jay Gould "could [not] possibly have meant much of what he wrote ...." Why? Gould wisely concedes that there are philosophical questions which are beyond the competence of the discipline of science to pronounce upon.) My response to Dawkins' invitation to such a future? No thanks.

Two aspects of Dawkins' writing are especially revealing to me. One: his lack of use for the category of "humanity". This is striking, but hardly more so than on p. 297f., when tackling the question of abortion: "Religious moralists can be heard debating questions like, 'When does the developing embryo become a person -- a human being?' Secular humanists are more likely to ask, 'Never mind whether it is human (what does that even mean for a little cluster of cells?); at what age does ... [it] become capable of suffering?" This is hugely revealing; and throughout, humanity is disprivileged as a category.

Two: Delusion is, as much as anything, a statement of faith. Not religious faith, of course: faith in Darwinism and a Darwin-based atheism. Dawkins wrongly maintains throughout his tome that religious faith is all about not asking questions, not using the faculties of logic or curiosity -- indeed, a deliberate turning away from anything which truly expands the understanding or horizons. (This shortsightedness, one must point out, would make it impossible for him to explain any number of religious movements in history.) On the last pages of the book, then, he indulges in what can only be described as great leaps of faith and paeans of praise to the (undemonstrated, undocumented -- by him) possibilities of the unchained (understand: un-, non-, or antireligious) human reason. Indeed, his closing statement I took as a negation of the central thesis of the book, which seeks to put sharp limits and brackets around disciplined thought, along Dawkins' lines, of course.

Throughout, I was wondering about Dawkins' audience. My conclusion was that it was written to sway the doubters in religious communities, the "dechurched", the disillusioned, those who through pain or despair or disappointment (or laziness) are looking for a reason to abandon the quest -- as Anselm put it -- of "faith seeking understanding" (another construct which would appear to be a mere word salad to Dawkins). In their nice, compact critique of Dawkins' work by Alister and Joanna McGrath (The Dawkins Delusion?: Atheist Fundamentalism and the Denial of the Divine; InterVarsity, 2007), the authors -- who masterfully blend biting criticism of Dawkins' limits of competency and his method with polite respect overall and quite a dose of graciousness -- make the case that he is preaching to a nonreligious choir which is increasingly alarmed by the irritating persistence of religious faith in the world, belief in God that is annoyingly overdue in fulfilling the confident predictions of the past 200+ years of its imminent decline, demise, and disappearance from the scene.

Dawkins clearly seems to think that he has presented an airtight, popularly accessible case for why God is not only dead, but mouldered beyond identification. His confidence is misplaced. It's his belief that he's made a credible and informed case that is the flight from reason, and his alleged deicide that is the real delusion.

Launching

2010-01-15T21:29:00.000-05:00

15 January 2010.

It's now or never -- if the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, a blog kicks off with the first post ... however clear or absurd, insightful or lame.

Now two weeks into the new year, and quite a ride so far: It began with winding up a road trip to the South (S. Carolina, Georgia), then a visit from my good friend Elena from Voronezh (Russia), and now Dad's bypass surgery -- along the way, a transatlantic Skype conference meeting, a plan to engage a consulting firm for the church, and more.

I have just learned that a friend (and former parishioner) is in Haiti to do relief work. Very good news. The outpouring of press on this disaster leaves me with a contradictory welter of personal reactions. On the one hand, I am glad there's an effort to get real help to the Haitian people -- and fast. On the other hand, their country has been a basket case so long -- there seems almost an element of hypocrisy that it takes this horrific disaster to get them on the radar of caring. We respond if they die in large numbers. The news coverage I heard this evening (on ABC) seemed almost to be inviting a desire for revolution ... sickening. We saw lawlessness born of desperation and inadequate policing in New Orleans after Katrina -- why should we not expect to see it in the poorest nation of the hemisphere with a weak government and a background condition of desperation? I hope that the relief materials will not only get there, but do some long-term as well as short-term good, and not wreck the local economy in the process. Meanwhile, prayers for the nation which is grieving their loved ones, and the destruction of many of the tokens of national pride they possessed.