WWJD revisited

Something recently reminded me of the WWJD bracelet fad.  For a time, you could buy WWJD bracelets in any number of fine retail outlets.  This was not because there had been another great awakening, but because the retailers new a good product when they saw it.  I had one.  It was black with white letters.  I did not often wear it, but when I did, it did not do much for me except help me identify with a certain social group. 

“What Would Jesus Do” was supposed to be a reminder to keep you on the straight and narrow.  But I  wonder about the meaning as it was understood by most people. 

Did it not often have more the connotation of “how would Jesus get out of this one?”

It seems much more fitting to think of other role models if you are trying to escape a sticky situation. 

“What would Chuck Norris do?”

“What would Macgyver do?”

“What would Jack Bauer do?”

"what would Brian Boitano do?"

I had a high school friend and classmate who, one day, wore a bracelet she had made that said WWJND?

“What does that mean,” I asked. 

“What would Jesus NOT do!”

I thought that was hilarious.  Thinking back on it, though I know she meant it for satiric purposes, I think it is much more on the money.  What would Jesus NOT do?  Wait till he is in a pinch and then try to get himself out of it.  What did he do?  Reach out to the sick, the poor, the outcasts, the rejected, and bringing the good news – bring the Kingdom to earth by demonstrating God’s love, compassion, kindness and mercy to others.

Too much of Christianity seems focused on “sin management” (a term introduced to me by a friend).  Like hazardous waste clean-up, you try really, really hard to not sin, but then when you crack and mess up, you promise to not do it again and ask for forgiveness.  Repeat.

Shouldn’t we instead be focused on how to not get into those bad situations in the first place? 

Structure your life around whatever is good, pure, holy, etc.  Fill up your life with the positive things so that there is no time for the negative.

...the beginning...

What, then, was in the beginning???

A Bang?

A void or a vacuum?

A Word?

A Creator?

Like the ancients said, chaos!

The space within the great yawning, gaping mouth of the creator

at the apex of inhaling just two moments before the word was spoken

that hurled forth creation.

And in the moment before,

when the exhaling breath of God rushed forth into the void,

chasing away the vacuum as the heat and moisture, the substance,

the divine phlegm, fills up the space!

The first moment, then, as the first word was spoken and time began,
the clock began

(though faster for us holding still and slower for us moving quickly!),

and a sound like a shock wave set all matter a-thrummin'

as the very sinew of the smallest subatomic particles began to vibrate,

each settling into its own rhythm that makes it all distinctive.

And then the collisions began!

As the atoms clump and cluster and the matter bumps and sticks

and from gases clumping come clouds

and even the clouds began igniting and burned

as new elements formed from the flame, and

new clumps grew

and were slung about the flaming massive centers

of each spinning gravitational top

all dancing and spinning like some mad ball at the creation of the cosmos.

Then cooling clumps of material

and the very ground we walk on

and the cooling gases settled in the low places, very deep.

And the condensation formed above
and the basic building blocks were there
to develop, evolve, resolve into (after some time had passed)
a walking-talking-thinking-thing which was because it thought.

Does it matter how it came to be or only that it is?

Was it like a ball of clay from which the shape was carefully formed?

Or perhaps a ball of matter (all matter) vibrating with the force
of all creations' potential energy waiting to unfurl?

Perhaps merely the wave of a divine magic wand, but that lacks creativity.

And surely a creator
of the sun and moon and earth and stars and all plants and animals and fish in the sea
is more creative than that.

And in the very words
the vibration of creation and
the process of a million years
to enjoy the development of a universe,
so mysterious in its form and all its workings.        

A Holiday Message from Mike: Why I’m Not an Atheist

I read a fantastic blog by comedic genius Ricky Gervais about why he is an Atheist (I suggest you read it too to make your own conclusions).  I say fantastic not because I agree with his conclusions, for I am not an Atheist, but because I understand where he is coming from.  Not only can I entirely appreciate why he is an atheist, but I think he raises an important question that any Christian should not be afraid of, but embrace:  Why do you believe in God?

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Grow in Grace / Go and do likewise

"Grace is opposed to earning, not effort.". Dallas Willard

This quote is one of Dallas' favorite quotes. I have been slowly digesting it for a few weeks now and trying to internalize it and reconcile it with another concept that was ingrained in me many years ago: we are saved by faith alone through the grace of Jesus- we are not saved by works.

When I was younger, I was led by pop, modern Christianity to believe that the only point of grace is to forgive us of our sins when we ask for it. Taken in combination with my misunderstanding that "faith" was a matter of believing certain ideas to be true (ie. the "right" things about God, Jesus, and a myriad of sociopolitical issues) and my belief that I needed to try really hard not to sin (lest I ask forgiveness for the same thing too often and cheapen grace) resulted in a personal theology of "sin management" [citation needed :-] and what Willard calls "consumerist Christianity without discipleship."

I went to church to participate in worship, but also to get more head knowledge and clarify the head knowledge I had to make sure I had the right answers (this was before I was introduced to the idea of a healthy respect for the mysteries of God). I tried really hard not to sin (not in an attempt to earn grace, but so I wouldn't "cheapen it"). And eventually, when I was a senior in high school, I hit a wall. I realized that while I wasn't doing anything really bad, neither was I doing anything really good. This bothered me and I felt like it was a deficit in my life. But I also had the ingrained idea that we don't do good works in an effort to earn salvation (most Protestants I knew avoided good works as a general rule, just to be on the safe side). I felt like that young rich man who said to Jesus: look, I keep the commandments, I am a good boy...what now?

Jesus' answer: sell all your stuff, give the money to the poor and follow me (discipleship)! Ok, nice in theory. But how do I follow Jesus at the turn of the twenty first century? My church wasn't giving me too many specifics: believe, read the bible, pray, witness, ask forgiveness (but don't cheapen grace!), repeat. Since Jesus is not physically standing before me, how can I follow him? If I try to do the stuff he did, barring the stuff I cannot do (miracles and such), and the stuff I was already trying (scripture, prayer and witnessing) it seems like there were a lot of good works involved (helping those less fortunate, feeding the poor, etc) and a lot of talking back to hipocritical and out-of-touch religious authorities (scribes, Pharisees, etc). This seemed in direct conflict with the dual concepts I had been taught since a youngster: we are saved by grace, not works, and you must respect your elders.

Now, given my youth and the youthful inclination toward rebellion, I was all about exploring the possibility that Jesus was a little more complex than the docile, sacrificial lamb that Sunday School portrayed him as (except when he cleared the money changers out of the temple - that had always made him seem uncharacteristically edgy). So I began to re-read the Gospels for the first time as though Jesus was also my teacher (I was in college at this point). This read much differently than it had when I read it ealier in life. Before this, I had known that Jesus was saying cool stuff, but all I really needed to remember was that Jesus loved and forgave me. But as Jesus also became me teacher, I began trying to live a little bit like he did in terms of my interpersonal relationships. I have no delusions of grandeur - I do not actually think I am perfect- just ask anyone close to me. But if Jesus is my teacher, shouldn't I TRY to treat others with love and understanding, despite our differences? And still, this did not seem to me to conflict with the idea that you cannot earn Grace or salvation. However, it did not mesh either, until I read this Dallas Willard line: "Grace is opposed to earning, not effort".

Just because we are saved by grace does not mean we should go through life as passive as a lump on a log. Even the demons believe that God is God and Jesus saves (and they tremble), but to do kingdom work requires some effort. Dallas also elaborates on how Grace plays a part in this. Grace is not merely used as a sin-balm; grace also sanctifies our actions. How do you "grow in grace"? Not by sinning more to exercise God's forgiveness (Rasputin style!), but by acting out of a desire to follow Jesus everyday and to do God's will (Discipleship is, after all, an action). Then, God's grace sanctifies our actions to serve his purpose. If God works for the good of those who love him and have been called according to his purpose (and we know he does- it's in Romans somewhere) then surely that doesn't just apply to helping us work through the bad stuff in our lives. It also applies to helping our good efforts actually result in some good for the kingdom of God.

Grow in Grace!

Be disciples (and teach others to do likewise)!

Faith and Discipleship; Willard and Borg

In modern American Protestant Christianity it seems the most important factor in whether or not you are saved is if you have "faith". Faith in Jesus as your personal lord and savior, faith in God, faith that the bible is truth- the list could continue. What is meant by "faith" in this use of the word is often just a synonym for "belief". So, when a lot of Christians say they have faith, they are talking all about the things they believe. This is a big part of Willard's argument in the intro and 1st chapter of his book: that the big goal in a lot of churches today is just to initiate believers, not train disciples. And when you try to tell believers that God wants them to be disciples, they start to look at you suspiciously (what Willard describes as the "bait and switch"- see Corey's blogs below for a good synopsis of the intro and chapter 1 of "The Great Omission").

Part of this misunderstanding stems from the narrow meaning of the word faith accepted by many Christians (I can speak from experience, since that is the meaning of faith I started out with). Marcus Borg addresses this issue of the meaning of faith in his book "The Heart of Christianity" (p 27-37). He describes the four meanings of faith as understood by Christians throughout our 2000 year history. Just as love is understood to have many levels of meaning (I love my Ipod but I love my wife) the meaning of faith is best understood as a multi-layered word and an understanding of faith that includes this multifaceted meaning leads more naturally to a life of discipleship.

The meaning of faith commonly understood today is one of Assensus (Latin), or faith as belief. Borg describes this as "a propositional understanding," whereby to have faith in this sense is to "[give] one's mental assent to a proposition, as believing that a claim or statement is true." Borg points out that the importance of this meaning stems from two historical developments. First, the Protestant Reformation, during which time the splintering of the church led to differing beliefs between the denominations and the emphasis on believing the "right beliefs". And second, the birth of the Scientific Method's emphasis on observable facts during the Enlightenment, which has further led to the modern practice of Christians having to mentally assent to a set of beliefs in opposition to "scientific" facts (but I'll save the Truth/Fact blog for another time- maybe someone else can do it- hint,hint). There is nothing wrong with this understanding of faith, but it should not be taken as the sole meaning.

The second meaning Borg describes is that of fiducia: "a radical trust in God". Not "trusting in the truth of a set of statements about God," but rather by entrusting our worries in the care of God. Borg contrasts fiducia with anxiety: "we can measure our degree of faith as trust by the amount of anxiety in our lives." (he also mentions that he uses this example not to give us something else to chastise ourselves about, but because if we learn to live in this "radical trust" it can have a transformative effect that will allow us to spend our time, not worrying, but experiencing life as God meant us to [hint- think discipleship].

The third meaning of faith in God, fidelitas, means "a radical centering in God"; "faithfulness to our relationship in God"; and "loyalty, allegiance the commitment of the self at the deepest level, the commitment of the heart". Again Borg distinguishes that this does not mean "faithfulness to statements about God, whether biblical, credal, or doctrinal...." but "to the God to whom the bible and creeds and doctrines point.". And the opposite of this would be adultery or idolatry- when we center or lives on something other than God. Borg also draws a parallel between the "radical centering in God" of fidelitas with the two greatest commandments: "you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your mind and with all your strength...[and] you shall love your neighbor as yourself.". If we follow these commandments we are living faithfully.
Similarly, Willard describes disciples as those who, "intent upon becoming Christ-like and so dwelling in his "faith and practice", systematically and progressively [rearranges their] affairs to that end.". So a true life of faithfulness, centering one's life in God, is of the same meaning as being a disciple, rearranging one's life to be more Christ like and to live in his way (loving God and your neighbor).

Finally, the fourth meaning of faith is Visio, or vision: how we see reality. Borg describes three common ways of viewing life. One way is to view life as "hostile and threatening," a view which leads to fear, defensiveness, paranoia, an emphasis on self preservation and a tendency to build walls around ourselves, rather than open up to the strangers, the poor, the widows, etc. Some Christians even view God in this way if they see him as a vindictive God who is out to punish and condemn to Hell.

A second way to view reality is as "indifferent.". This is the modern secular view that you live however you want to live, doing whatever makes you happy within the bounds of societal norms... And then you die. It seems to me that the conjunction of a belief that Christianity is just belief in a few main ideas and a vision in the secular American dream has done more harm to the church in this country than homosexuality, abortion and Muslims (three of the things that seem to worry many conservatives- not to say that I condone abortion).

The third way of seeing reality, and the way that best fosters a life of faith, faithfulness, and discipleship, is to see it as "life giving and nourishing.". God is good and gracious, and life is not simply a trial we must endure before we die and go to heaven, but God wants us to live a full, enriched life "in radical trust...[free from] the anxiety, self-preoccupation and the concern to protect the self...[with] the ability to love and to be present to the moment...[generating] a 'willingness to spend and be spent' for the sake of a vision that goes beyond ourselves." (see also "waking the dead" by Eldredge).

It seems then that training disciples involves teaching a fuller understanding of faith. In hearing the verse "we are saved by our faith alone", if our understanding of faith is limited only to assensus, the "cost of discipleship" may seem, as Willard noted, more than we signed up for, or rather like a super Christianity, a premium level that you have to pay more for when in fact, most people settle for the "free trial version". But if we as the Church teach that faith means more than simply believing in X,Y and Z and that faith is a life of trust and faithfulness in God and a vision in the Kingdom of God on earth, we will be doing more to train disciples, rather than simply initiating members to our churches.

Perfection

“Be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect” Jesus

“Aim for perfection” – Paul the Apostle

“…he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you’” – Paul the Apostle

“For if you are able to bear the entire yoke of the Lord, you will be perfect; but if you are not able, then at least do what you can” The Didache [6:2]

“Perfection never was a requirement, although some might say we desired it.” Five Iron Frenzy

Growing up a Christian in a fairly conservative Protestant church I was given mixed signals. Some Christians, despite claiming a belief in Grace, seem to expect nothing less than perfection. Perhaps I felt this pressure more as a pastor’s kid, but I think that all kids in church feel like they are under the microscope from parents and elders. Grace, grace, grace is taught and preached, but the weight of high behavioral expectations grow with your age. Some church kids rebel from the start, enjoying every sin they can. Some hold out for some time, trying to live up to the expectations and feeling guilt for every time they slip up, and all the while trying to keep up appearances. In some groups this leads to a cult of perfection. What I witnessed was the complete depletion of my age group as we moved towards high school graduation. By the time I returned from college there were very few twenty-somethings in my former church at all – and I say former because I too have left.

To some, it seems, Christianity is nothing more than behavioral control, a list of impossible rules with the promise of pie in the sky. That is what I suspect drove off many former child church goers and prevents others from giving it a try. But I know there are many who have stayed interested in their faith, and still value it. I suppose I can only speak for myself, and this is true for me. But my beliefs have stayed important to me because I have come to understand the meaning of grace. When I was a child growing up in church, I heard the word “grace” a lot. But I did not truly understand grace, or at least not nearly as well as the expectation for perfection. Because when I saw people step out of line, the reaction from adults, parents and other kids was usually not modeling grace – it was typically punishment, disapproval or judgment.

Now, I am not perfect (just ask my wife, friends, family, and co-workers) and I do not claim to be perfect (though Molly would say I act like I think I am). But I spent most of my childhood and teen years, growing up a non-rebellious church kid, feeling guilty for not being perfect. And that was despite the fact that I knew in my mind that perfection was not the requirement; that any perfection is only by grace. But as I have said, it took me a while to understand the meaning of grace…

Reading the Didache, I wonder why I did not hear more lines such as the one I quoted above when I was growing up. And even as I wrote that rhetorical question I know the answer…. If you can follow the teachings of the Lord, you will be perfect. If not, do what you can. This is not a very “bright line” rule, not an easy rule to raise children by. Instead, it is much easier to tell your kids to be perfect. For I suppose if you tell your children to try to be perfect, but if they cannot, to do what they can, then they may “do what they can” into all sorts of undesirable situations: “well, I know I shouldn’t __________, but I did what I could!”

But, it is not easy to try to follow Christ’s teachings, and I am not convinced it is supposed to be a simple matter of behaving yourself. I have only stayed a Christian because I have come to understand the meaning of grace. Had I not come to understand it, and still only believed Christianity to be a list of impossible rules with the promise of pie in the sky, I perhaps would have abandoned the faith of my childhood by now. But as it turned out, I have stuck with it. And though I am not perfect (just ask my wife, family, friends and co-workers), I do what I can.

I blow the steam off my coffee before...

I blow the steam off my coffee before I sip. Staring out the window at the strip mall reminds me that I hate the suburbs. It was the dream of my parents and grandparents generation to move to the suburbs and own a home. But the empty storefronts seem cold, especially when around the corner there is a new strip mall with new big box stores, while the others rot a few hundred yards away.

In this family restaurant I look around at the other early morning diners. Mostly old men complaining about the government and discussing the same things they probably discuss every time they meet up here. I pretend i am in a small town, or maybe a bustling city, probably the type of place most of these old-timers started out in, since this suburb was just a few farms not even twenty-five years ago. I idealize the small town and the city. My wife and I plan our move, we plan our escape, but I remind myself that nowhere is perfect. But there has to be a place for us better than here.

I once expressed my disdain for the suburbs, and my mother tearfully replied that they had moved here for us, so that we could have a better life and good schools. I realized that these rows of identical subdivisions and strip malls had been a promised land for some at one time. Hell, maybe even today it is a place of hope for some. But to me, it just feels bankrupt of individuality, spirit and promise. There is nothing to do here but shop, go out to eat and go back to your home entertainment center until you get sleepy and crawl off to bed. Sate your hunger with shopping, then take a siesta. No community. No community to speak of. If there is community, I have not found it.

We tried at church, and it almost worked, but most of the people there are older than us and we just don't see eye to eye. Not on politics or religion or anything. Not that our values are so much different. Not that they aren't nice people with good hearts. Not like we are trying to throw out everything we were raised under. It just does not feel right. We need to move on.

The coffee has cooled enough that I can almost gulp it down, and I do. The hot liquid almost scalding my throat as it goes down, down, down to the last drop and the few grounds that had settle to the bottom. I swallow the grounds too.

I stopped driving the surface streets to work, even though it is more direct, because it takes me through rotting suburb after suburb. It is almost like a history of urban sprawl. From our little suburban paradise, built up in the eighties and nineties, you move back in time to the idyllic suburbs of the seventies, then the sixties and fifties and forties until you arrive in the city where my employment is found. Right on the edge of the old inner city, where it is hard to tell where one municipality ends and the other begins, a line used to be clearly drawn. A racial and economic line. A line that kept opportunity and a better life separate from the abandoned inner city. An artificial line built up by racism. This line was defended vigorously as whites were allowed to cross safely to the side of opportunity while blacks were held back, locked into the city limits. Capital and jobs and ownership left with the whites. The brought the titles and deeds with them and then jacked up the rent prices. The whites retreated and scorched the earth as they did so. They had scorched the earth, sewn the fields with salt and then balked at the blacks for not growing their own economic success. And the whites continued to retreat from the city center and each decade spread out farther and farther. That is all I can see when I drive through suburban stronghold after suburban stronghold. The legacy of segregation writ across a metropolis.

So after tipping my waitress I pay my bill, pull on my coat, pull into traffic and am on my way. I bypass the surface streets by taking the freeway. It is a path that is nine miles longer than just driving straight through suburban kingdoms, lined up like a living suburban timeline, but it takes me ten minutes less time, and it avoids the scenery that reminds me of how much I hate the suburbs.

I would move out, but my family is here and my mortgage is here and I have nowhere to go just yet.

I don't want to move in haste, or I could end up somewhere worse!

The freeway is crowded with other suburbanites flooding the city for their daily work.

And together we will rush back out again in the evening.

Hopefulness

You don't realize the wall you'd constructed around yourself until it begins to crack.
The ramparts you had raised in defense, every new stone laid with every instance you felt faith broken, defensive placements of cynicism against the rhetoric used against you.
All 'round-about you the wall rose higher and higher until you'd enclosed yourself in bitterness against a culture that had seemingly purged you from its midst.
But when the cracks begin to appear you realize how high the wall had become.
And when the cracks grow and spread the width and height of your enclosure--as it begins to crack and crumble--you are struck by the raw emotion of hopefulness.
Like fresh air or rain or sunlight striking you, newly revealed from behind your defenses, it reminds you by its very essence of its goodness and cleanses you of the stale feeling of confinement.
The joy of simply being included in the national identity is surprising, when you had long written it off as a mantle co-opted for exclusion, like the garb of ideological identity.
Oh it does feel good to be able to feel pride in your nation again.
It does feel good to be hopeful again.
I am of the US.

What I believe.

This is pretty close:
"Once upon a time I believed in a great many things. Now I believe only in a few things, but I believe in them more deeply than I ever thought possible. That God exists, that God is love and that Jesus is the son of God - these things I believe. Everything else is up for debate."
[Maggi Dawn, quoting one of her Theology professors, Christian Century, 3/11/08 p. 37]

I also agree with many (most...all...) of the beliefs expressed in this testimony from Anne Rice (yes, the author who writes all the vampire books)

but, I don't fully agree with this guy - I can see where he is coming from, but I believe in a God who can surpass our human understanding...