“Just” Musings

21 11 2011

In the preface to his book, Exclusion and Embrace, Miroslav Volf reflects on the question Jurgenn Moltmann askes him, “But can you embrace a cetnik?” A cetnik was a term for the Serbian fighters who had been recently herding Volf’s people into concentration camps, raping woman, burning down churches, and destroying cities. Volf took a while to answer, but immediately wanted to say, “No, I cannot – but as a follower of Christ I think I should be able to.” Volf’s further comments in this regard are striking. Volf says in the first chapter of the same book, that he sensed “an unexpressed expectation to explain why as a Croat I still had friends in Serbia and did not talk with disgust about the backwardness of their Byzantine-Orthodox culture” (16). In the sidebar, I’ve written, “I also feel that sense as a Christian who wants to work with Muslims.” Volf continues, “But the new Croatia, like some jealous goddess, wants all my love and loyalty. I must be Croat through and through, or I was not a good Croat.” Again, in the sidebar I’ve scribbled, “So sad, I kinda know what that’s like.” I feel the same. There is this not-so-invisible expectation… that my religion forces me to hate, or act unjustly, to the Muslim (or to anyone else who significantly disagrees with me, or is different than me). When I see unjustness I’m to let it slide for the sake of Christ, for the glory of Christ… after all, I am a Christian, and I exist for the glory of the one true God! Somehow the circumstances justify the unfair representations, the hateful attitudes, the misinformed arguments… Why would we need to be just, to “them?!”

I don’t think Volf is exaggerating when he says, “It may not be too much to claim that the future of our world will depend on how we deal with identity and difference” (20, Exclusion and Embrace). The problem remains – the nonrecognition and misrecognition of “the other” actually does inflict harm, is a form of oppression, and is ultimately a way we imprison others. BTW, Just because it turns into a cold indifference over time doesn’t make it any less evil… exclusion as assimilation, or domination, or abandonment, is always, always evil. To exclude inappropriately is to be unjust. And we Christians know it is our duty to “do” justice – that is, we ought to “live in a way that generates a strong community where human beings can flourish.” (177, Keller’s Generous Justice) This seems obvious, but it’s a pretty big request. Actually, it doesn’t even follow that a Christian can also be at the same time, unjust. Why, then, is “doing justice” so difficult?

I’ve just finished reading Keller’s “Generous Justice” and it’s got me thinking. I’m reminded that ultimately, in Sri Lankan scholar Vinoth Ramachandra’s words, justice is “scandalous.” The scandal is in Jesus commanding “when you give a banquet, don’t invite your friends… instead invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind… (Luke 14:12-13).” And Jesus didn’t just preach justice, he lived justice – Keller reminds us how Jesus showed the greatest respect to the immoral woman who was a social outcast (Luke 7:36ff)…resisted the sexism of the day (John 4:27), refused to go along with the racism of his culture, making a hated Samaritan the hero of one of the most famous parables (Luke 10:26ff) and just about started a riot when he claimed that God loved Gentiles as much as Jews (Luke 4:25-27), etc. Yeah, that sounds about right… justice makes people upset… it causes riots… then and today… why?

It seems to me – and tell me if I’m wrong – that most of us think of “justice” in two ways. It goes something like this:  We think, “On the one hand, justice is what I (and my peeps) deserve. For all the good reasons, I deserve justice of the best kind. You know, I deserve to be spoken to appropriately. I deserve respect. I deserve to be represented how I would represent myself. I deserve everything I’ve received, and probably a lot more. Justice should flow to me and my kin (family). Ultimately, God’s grace makes a lot of sense, for me. But I’m not so sure the same applies to everyone… certainly not EVERYONE deserves this same justice.” And this is the other side: “What about those people whom I so disagree with? Whom I don’t understand? Whom I don’t automatically respect? Whom I don’t know? Who disagree with me? Do they deserve the same sorts of justice as me? Certainly not. There are GOOD reasons, to withhold justice from my enemies (neighbors).” Justice is defined one way when we are speaking of family, and another way when we are speaking of our neighbors.

Tim Keller’s chapter 4, “Justice and Your Neighbor” was my favorite part of his book, where he comments on the parable in Luke 10, where Jesus eventually asks, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robber?” (Luke 10:36) In this parable, Jesus was giving a radical answer to the question, “what does it mean to love your neighbor?” and in doing so, Jesus refuses to let us limit not only how we love, but who we love. A significant point of the parable is that anyone at all in need – regardless of race, politics, class and religion – is your neighbor, and the true neighbor is the one who acts mercifully towards that person in need.

And yes, this is fair. After all, as C.S. Lewis reminds us, “Christ loved us, and was kind to us, and was willing to relieve us, though we were very hateful persons, of an evil disposition, not deserving of any good… so we should be willing to be kind to those who are…very undeserving.” But we all inevitably run into the question, “When you talk about loving our neighbor, you can’t mean someone like her [insert someone you think doesn’t deserve it], can you?”

Then, in chapter 5 Keller speaks to the real problem… we all know we are to be just, but none of us feel like we have a significant enough motivation to act justly. Ultimately, Keller believes a proper motivation to “do justice” includes:

1)      Joyful awe before the goodness of God’s creation, and

2)      The experience of God’s grace in redemption.

After all, we know “there are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. It is immortals who we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit.” (C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory and other Addresses, 46). That “other” is a human being made in the image of God, just like you and me – no better and no worse. So we are to be rejoicing in the goodness of God’s creation within the other, all-the-while as we remind ourselves of God’s outrageous grace in redeeming people like us to Himself.

C.S. Lewis describes beautifully, as always, what this duty of “doing justice” looks like. He says, “The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbor’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken… This does not mean that we are perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously – no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sin in spite of which we love the sinner” (88).

Keller says, “A lack of justice is a sign that the worshippers’ hearts are not right with God at all, that their prayers and all their religious observance are just filled with self and pride” (50). This must be true, since “An encounter with grace inevitably leads to a life of justice (49).” Keller continues, “To the degree that the gospel shapes your self-image, you will identify with those in need” (102).” But I’m curious, why is it that we don’t “wear justice?” How come so few Christians are characterized by others as having a humble and cooperative spirit? Perhaps we don’t have a James 1:17 understanding – which reminds us that God scatters gifts of wisdom, goodness, justice and beauty across all the human race, regardless of people’s beliefs. But, again, I ask, how come many of us don’t have a deep desire for full shalom – complete restoration and reconciliation with one another?

Almost anyone who knows me knows I want to work with Muslims for the rest of my life. I want to help Christians understand Muslims, and vice versa. I’ve loved Muslims for as long as I can remember… It seems it’s the only just thing for me to do. I’ve grown up hearing all sorts of things about Muslims, much of it blatantly false (unjust). What grieves me is the fact that my message – and my goal of helping each side see each other clearly – is not wanted by all Christians – including some who are very close to me. Why?

Justice is scandalous. It is uncomfortable. Speaking justly of the other requires me to place my feet where they walk. It requires me to admit “the other” is more than an object – S/he is a person who has legitimate reasons for saying what S/he says and believing what S/he believes. Justice forces me to stop making overgeneralizations. Justice forces me to shut up… to listen… to learn. Justice forces us to mingle with those who are different than us. Justice forces us out of isolation, ignorance, or an intolerance of difference. Justice pushes us into the real world and makes us better. When we “do Justice” we reflect Christ’s personality to others. No wonder this stuff causes riots, the process is painful. It’s hard for us Christians to be generously Just in the same way Christ was generously Graceful with us. But isn’t the pain worth it? I can see that I’ve got a long road ahead of me. Justice isn’t “cool” for everyone… not every Christian wants to do it. But Keller’s book Generous Justice was a reminder for me that the Christian God is just, and was generously just to me, and it’s OK to want that same justice for others. As C.S. Lewis described, I really do feel the burden of my Christian duty towards justice, to take the other seriously… and I don’t need to apologize for that…

“Can I embrace a Muslim?” I can, and I should.





What is the Value of Color?

13 11 2011

“Are you fire, are you fury? Are you sacred, are you beautiful?

If you touched my face, would I know you? Looked into my eyes, could I behold you?

What do I know of you, who spoke me into motion?

What do I know…of holy?…

I guess I thought I had figured you out, I heard all the stories, and I learned to talk about how you were mighty to save…but those were only empty words on a page, then I caught a glimpse of who you might be…and the slightest hint of you brought me to my knees…

Where have I even stood, but the shore along your ocean?…

What do I know of holy?… Of the one whom the angels praise…the one to whom all creation knows His name…

What do I know of holy?” (Addison Road, What do I know of Holy).

It’s an important question, for me. When have I arrived? How much education does it take before I “get it?” When will my finite mind understand the infinite? When will my words begin to adequately describe the indescribable God? Where can I find the aspects of God I don’t understand yet? Where are all the places I can find Him/more of Him? Which church is allowable to enter? How do I wrap my mind around God’s kind of love, for me/the world? Which denomination has the supreme knowledge? By the way, when do I have the freedom to believe my understanding is supreme? When do I get the right to put God into my minuscule box? How often is God bigger than me? Bigger than my denomination? Bigger than my school? Bigger than my upbringing? Bigger than my beloved traditions (or lack thereof)? How exactly does God work (and not work?) I mean, exactly? What for God, is too far? How good is God, really? How can God be this merciful, and yet just? And once I figure it all out, what’s the best way to talk about it?…through philosophically cogent arguments…through a poem…through silence? What is the best way to worship God? Through listening to a rock-band in a sunday morning service, through singing a man-written hymn, through sitting in the magnificent world around me – with hands raised – in silence?

The more I think about it, the quieter I get… and I struggle knowing what to say to those who feel like their one way is the right way. That they’ve got it figured out. It’s clear, they are comfortable being loud… They feel safe, since anything outside their safe (or unsafe) box, is dangerous. Without knowing it, their confidence is in their packaging… How do I appropriately respond? Because I’m not so sure I’ve even begun to fathom the meaning of holy, the ways of God. I don’t even have 100% confidence like they do, that “my way is supreme.” Thus, I’m not all that impressed by the packaging (or lack thereof). Even my own packaging isn’t all that impressive, let alone anyone else’s… How do I explain to those I love, that at the same time I despise religiosity, I so enjoy worship! How can I describe where the lines don’t blur? When it feels right, and when it feels not quite… For me, this is a journey and I’m only beginning. That’s sure clear by now. What of those who feel they’ve crossed the finish line, already? I’m jealous, the warm-up still tires me out… What do I say to those who aren’t like me? To those who are comfortable… to those who are content. To those who always feel like they have an answer (how is this not a red-flag?)…  How do I communicate, “I disagree, but I’m on the same side…” Perhaps they could answer the questions I can’t, but it seems too often they haven’t begun to honestly ask the questions I’m asking, yet. So I find I’m living in another world, but yet I’m to make an answer across the border. I’m to justify myself… How do I do it? Am I to answer with questions? with arguments, or with silence? How do I break the all-too-often-unnecessary “us vs. them” ideology? How do I show someone who is color-blind, the beauty of color?

First, I’m gonna try to figure out, “holy.” I’m hoping the rest will follow…





Distracted Listening

13 10 2011

I hear him, around the corner.

On the school bus, in my room, everywhere I go

he never goes away, and I don’t like what he says,

No matter how fast I run, he keeps screaming

Louder and louder.

he has this annoying shadowlike penchant

For lying.

he is so convincing. So blunt. So un-innocently un-confused.

What can I do? I don’t  (want to) believe him… I don’t like him.

Should I get rid of him? I can’t. The Other voice… I hear it only vaguely,

Because it sounds so vague. Opaque. A whitely gray color of Knowledge.

The smoky elusiveness of the Other is yet smooth, softly

Logical. The same Other says, “I know…I see… trust Me”

With His highlighter he illuminates sparrows, and sheep.

Which is exactly what I feel like, without the color. The Other can’t lie, He sleeps

In sovereignty and He moves in perfect tandem with Himself.

Interwoven in all His sweet songs are the tiny chirps of reflection.

He reflects perfection to imperfection, He imparts promise

And sometimes it’s hard to hear. Because the louder one doesn’t like me, or Him,

And so every moment is war. And I’m glad screams are empty.

Because without Him, I would be lost, listening to my own self

ish desires to be selfishly confused by him. Instead that still peace, that soft

Voice, is what my ears, and soul, know only slightly. I should really

Start listening.





Crashing the Trinitarian “Wall”

12 06 2011

This past week I took a course titled, “Trinitarian and Christological Controversies.” Yes, it was as fun as it sounds. I ended up really enjoying the class. We focused on Christianity from the 4th to 6th Centuries, and especially talked about the first few Ecumenical Creeds of the Church. I definitely got a sizable dose of the Eastern fathers, as our readings were only in primary source documents – and we read people like Cyril of Alexandria, Athanasius, Basil, Gregory of Nazianzus, Origen, Arius, Apollinaris, Irenaeus, Tertullian, etc. These are the dudes who have greatly affected the way we talk about Christ and the Trinity. I’m ashamed to say my knowledge of the first few centuries of the Christian faith is sub-par at best. But this class has given me a great start in understanding the historical and terminological components behind two of the greatest doctrinal controversies of the patristic period.

We have these so-called creeds because in the first few centuries after Christ, there were some theologians asking some pretty important questions, and some of the answers that were given were seen by the church to be inadequate (termed “heretical” = a mistake which threatens the reality of Christian salvation). Therefore, they wrote creeds to verify what the church believes the Bible to actually say. It was a pretty big deal back then, because what the church fathers realized is that certain inadequate expressions of Christianity actually threatens the reality of Christian salvation. If we get God wrong, everything else goes out the window, including our salvation. So these dudes wanted to make sure our understanding was primarily, Biblical. In this post I’d like to give a brief “main idea” summary of each creed. Then, I’ll share my favorite part of the class, and lastly, why I’d love to crash the Trinitarian wall. If any of this strikes your fancy and gets you curious, let me know and I’ll be happy to elaborate.

Council Summaries: 

  1. Council of Nicaea – 325 – If Jesus Christ was not fully God, He could not save us. Jesus Christ was fully God.
  2. Council of Constantinople – 381 – If the Holy Spirit is not fully God, then the Holy Spirit could not unite us with God. The Holy Spirit is fully God.
  3. Council of Ephesus – 431 – God the Son was born on earth for our salvation, through Christ. (Also see the Formula of Reunion in 433).
  4. Council of Chalcedon – 451 – God the Son was born as a man for our salvation.
  5. Council of Constantinople II – 553 – If it was really God the Son who was born for our salvation, it was also God the Son who died for our salvation.
  6. Council of Constantinople III – 681 – Reaffirms the reality of God the Son’s life as a man on earth by focusing on the submission of His human will to His divine will.

Highlight of the Course: 

Realizing once again that doctrine, salvation, and the Christian life are always connected. Therefore, all of this matters! The church’s pronouncements don’t matter for their own sake, but at the end of the day it matters what the Bible says and how we articulate that. All of these councils build on each other and proceed logically from one another, building a case for how salvation is accomplished through God. There is a straight line of development. These councils help us to understand that “what is not assumed cannot be saved.” If Jesus was not fully God, He could not save us. If Jesus was not fully human, humans could not be saved. If the Holy Spirit were not fully God, we could not be united with God the Father and God the Son, who is one. All of the Creeds speak to the same underlying reality – if we are to be saved, God must come down to us. Christianity is not a moralistic system where people gradually get closer and closer to God by “being good.” It is a radically different process – God is the hero since we can’t save ourselves. This is what the Bible affirms, and thus the creeds echo.

Why I want to crash the Trinitarian “Wall”

My professor spoke about the “brick wall.” Because God is so different than us, us humans (even the ones who have Ph.D’s) eventually run into a wall when we talk about God. We run into unfathomable and incomprehensible truth, paradox, mystery. Some which even grate against my oh-so-loved human logic. So the question is, what do I do when I get to that point? Do I shy away from the mysteries, and instead speak about God in a way which is more comprehensible (and in the meantime misspeak about God)? Or do I just admit it?… As a finite human being, I cannot understand it fully. My professor insisted we must “adore the mystery in silence.” I don’t want to “adore” it, I want to smash it! I want to crash it. I want to figure it out. Because that would make me feel better about myself. But if I am so dedicated to logic – and thus reorient/diminish God to fit it – Then I risk losing touch with the real God who is so different than me. Mystery remains, and maybe there is nothing I can do about it? Perhaps it is a wall that will never be torn down this side of heaven.

In these next few weeks I’ll be writing a few research papers. One on some aspect of the Trinitarian Controversy, and another on an aspect of the Christological Controversy. So I may do a follow-up to this post as I do my research…

M.P.





Critiquing Critique

22 05 2011

Recently I ran across “The Pastor and Personal Criticism” by C.J. Mahaney. He says, “if you are a pastor, you will be criticized” and he got me thinking… What should I do when someone critique’s me? Especially if I don’t believe I deserve the critique. For me it’s an interesting question. After all, I’m supposed to have it all figured out, right?

I’m supposed to be the leader. I’m the one spending all this money on education. Aren’t I getting paid to have the credentials to critique others? Even more, what if someone critique’s me concerning my own special interests? Say, Islam for example. What if someone who has never studied Islam and never met a Muslim tries to tell me my understanding of them is wrong?  How should I respond? Or say, preaching. What if someone who has never preached before (or preaches sub-par sermons, or preaches too long, or is hard to understand, etc), tries to tell me how I should preach? Or what if they suggest I shorten my sermons? Or use more stories… Or….etc. Do I listen? Do I defend myself? Do I critique their critique? After all, how can I preach a good sermon in less than 45 minutes? ;) Interestingly, Tim Keller has recommended young preachers go no more than 30 minutes, since, most likely, anything more may be dangerously close to “personal ramblings because they like to hear themselves talk”…

Thankfully, I’m at the stage where I can still ask the question. At this point, I’m not really in many leadership positions. And in some ways this is purposeful. Before I came to the Boston area I had been worn thin… lots of leadership roles, lots of front-line work, lots of stuff to do, and I felt like I needed a few years to slide into the background. I needed to be “still”…To watch, learn, listen. This is an ongoing lesson, and I’m really enjoying it. Humility is a much more natural reaction now that I see my way may not be the best way. Since I’m not the one “leading the pack” I can finally sit back and watch others – and I’ve been very intrigued by how they deal with critique.

To be honest, I am kinda frustrated with my age group, and those who act my age. The “leaders” around me who are say, 35 and below all seem to float one way – it’s an almost unanimous decision – they critique their critiquers. They defend themselves against supposed “weaknesses.” They clarify, oppose, sometimes in a very condescending way. They “get er done,” “bring her home hard,” “come back strong,” “rebuke the heretics,” etc. They resist changing who they are, and oppose those who see things differently, since these young bucks certainly know better…

Then there are those who have been in ministry for a few years and actually know what they are doing. I’ve been impressed by their very distinctive Matthean saltiness (Here I am making broad distinctions but you get my general point). Some of these more experienced ministers have this weird ability to not only put-out but take-in as well. “Evaluation on the go” so to speak. I was struck the other day as I was listening to a “seasoned veteran,” a very well known and respected preacher answer questions from a seminary audience. Someone critiqued him on the way he preaches, and instead of defending himself, he just took it, and thanked the critiquer (figures, those of us in seminary have it all figured out). This struck me. This preacher had all the right in the world to defend himself, and he didn’t.

So now I ask my 25-year old self… what would I do in that situation? What should I do? All the while one of the most memorable lines I heard in my first semester was from a professor who said,  ”it took me three years to get through seminary, and about three years to get over it.” How high do I view myself and my education? What kind of “leader” am I, really? Do I love being in the lead, being in the right, being in power? How do I critique criticism?

C.J. Mahaney says, “A pastor can expect criticism because it is part of God’s sanctification process – a tool that he uses to reveal idols and accelerate the pastor’s growth in humility.”

This is something I need to think about more. Whether at home, work, school, or church – how do I react to criticism – and what does that say about me?





Thoughts about Bell, through Tozer

13 03 2011

If you are as dorky as me (let’s hope not) then you know Bell is the talk of the town. If you don’t know which Bell I’m referring to, then be of good cheer, you are officially cooler than I am. Rob Bell is the founding pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids Michigan. A lot of people come to his church, and a lot of people like him. He has written a few books already, including Velvet Elvis, Sex God, and others. He is also the dude you see in the Nooma video series. His latest book coming out is causing a real rucus.

The book is titled “Love Wins: A book about Heaven, Hell, and the fate of every person who ever lived” (awww how sweet). It hasn’t even come out yet and a bunch of Christians are pretty upset. To be honest, I have never read any of his stuff. I will when I have time. Some people say he is good (he is known for saying things in a fresh and creative way), others say he is a sold-out heretic. I’ve seen most of his nooma videos and liked em, so as of yet I’ve not had too much of an issue with him. Generally, I appreciate someone who can bring “newish” light on eternal truths. If that’s what he’s doing, cool! Some people believe he is doing a lot more. And it seems they may have me convinced. But that’s another story.

Bell recently put out a trailer for his new book, which you can see here. In his trailer, Bell asks provocative (important) questions about heaven, hell, and eternal destiny. He seems to be hinting that no one goes to hell. I did a bit of searching, and I found a bit more helpful information on the topic. I’ve seen in other blogs – responses to people who have actually already read the book (you would think this would be a basic requirement before you blast the guy). Minus the fact that by the end of the short clip I almost puked from the nostalgic feeling I was supposed to have, I thought it was pretty intriguing, and very attractive. This idea that somehow “Love” is what conquers all. We actually know this is the case, from Scripture, but Scripture defines love in a very different way than most of us realize. Most controversially it seems from the trailer that Bell doesn’t believe in Hell.

Apparently, those who have read the book already, say Bell does still believe in hell, he just doesn’t believe it is eternal. I’m not even going to get into why this wouldn’t even be awesome IF it were true. Thats for another post. For now, I’d like to ask a few questions about Bell, via A.W. Tozer. I think these are helpful.

In a short essay titled, “The Responsibility of Leadership” A.W. Tozer reminds us that usually, “masses are or soon will be what their leaders are.” Reminding us of Biblical history, he says, “Whatever sort of man the king turned out to be, the people were soon following his leadership. They followed David in the worship of Jehovah, Solomon in the building of the Temple, Jeroboam in the making of a calf and Hezekiah in the restoration of the temple worship.” This is true from history, and although we know it is not a complementary truth, especially to us who make up the “masses” we know we are at least in part who our leaders are.

Later on in his article, Tozer points to a number of factors which contribute to bad leadership. As you read, ask yourself, is Bell succombing to any of these?

  1. Fear – The wish to be liked and admired is strong even among clergy.
  2. Economic squeeze – Pastor’s are notoriously underpaid. So to make more money, a pastor may say what the people want. Tozer comments, “leadership withheld is in fact a kind of inverted leadership. The person who will not lead his flock up the mountainside leads it down without knowing it.”
  3. Ambition – When Christ is not all in all to the minister, he is tempted to seek place for himself/herself. Instead of leading where they ought, he leads them to where they want. He seems bold, but is cowardly since he is afraid to offend anyone
  4. Intellectual Pride – Lest he be guilty of saying something trite or common, the young intellectual in the pulpit shakes in his carefully polished Oxfords. Instead of leading them to a green pasture, he leads them to a sandy desert.
  5. Absence of true spiritual experience – No one can lead another farther than he himself has gone. For many ministers this explains their failure to lead. They simply do not know where to go.
  6. Inadequate preparation - Churches are cluttered with religious amateurs culturally unfit to minister at the altar, and the people suffer as a consequence.

Leadership is important. The responsibilities are heavy. How is Bell as a leader? Do we want a lot more Bells running around?





Workplace Ethics

6 03 2011

This semester I am taking a course titled, “Workplace Theology and Ethics.” The purpose of the course is to explore a Christian way of thinking about work and calling – about the mission, values, and ethical guidelines appropriate to this domain. Does the Bible say anything about work, business, economy, marketplace? In this class students are to wrestle with their sense of calling, their philosophy of work and economics, and their ethical identity.

My professor insists on having a lot of discussion, which I find really enjoyable. So he asks us a lot of questions. I’ve been surprised by my lack of answers to many of them. Below, I will include some of the questions that were asked in which I had reason to pause, since I didn’t have an immediate answer.

  • What is “good” work? Which jobs ought to be classified as “good”?
  • How should we think about work? What does it mean, why am I doing it, what makes my job “good” or “bad”?
  • How are we to discern our calling/vocation?
  • What are the proper criteria for evaluating companies?
  • What is a good business, company, or organization? Why?
  • How do personal faith and values interface with work, career, and business decisions and practices?
  • What is more difficult to deal with – bad people/intentions or technological complexity, competitive business, other?
  • When Ecclesiastes 1:3, 14 says, “What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun?…All is vanity and a chasing after the wind.” Is this cynicism, realism, pessimism, modest expectation, other?
  • What kind of jobs or businesses have the best chance of being redemptive in the world? Are some jobs/businesses simply unable to be redemptive?
  • What is the difference between “work” and “sabbath”?
  • What is the purpose and value of a sabbath?
  • Is it possible to be successful in today’s business while observing sabbath and staying balanced in life?
  • What are the pros/cons of modern technology?
  • What are the pros/cons of globalization?
  • How ought the Biblical narrative restructure our view on technology/globalization?

Most people spend at least 1/3 of their life working. It seems these are relevant questions. Any thoughts?





Evangelical Pharisee?

30 01 2011

What is the difference between a 1st century Pharisee and a 21st century Evangelical?

I’m taking a class with Dr. Stephen Um (you can see his info here) who is a pretty cool person to learn from. He insists that pastoral ministry is his overriding passion and he teaches in a very pastoral way. So he spends a lot of time explaining the pastoral implications for what he is talking about. So it turns out to be a very enjoyable experience. This afternoon he spent a few minutes comparing the evangelical community to the Pharisitical movement of the first century. I’ve never thought to compare the two groups, but it turns out to be pretty interesting…

To be fair, scholars debate the actual nature of the movement. Some see it as an exclusive sectarian group and others argue the Pharisees were a party within Judaism – with special rules for themselves, while being tolerant of other Jews. Generally we know the Pharisees were very interested in the law of Moses and hoped to live according to its’ exact regulations. They worked to define the exact meaning and interpretation of numerous laws. They especially concentrated on the ritualistic laws pertaining to sex, death, food, contamination, etc. These were the popular theologians of the day, so to speak.

Interestingly, Pharisees promoted holiness in the land.  They viewed themselves as “God’s holy people” and thus were very intentional to go about converting people into God’s kingdom. They were very concerned with understanding properly the holy books. Literalists. Compared to the Sadducees, they were a very conservative group. Moralistic at least in appearances. Does any of this sound familiar? Many evangelicals also stress the fact we are “in the world and not of it.” Many evangelicals are conservative, moralistic, literalistic, and evangelistic. It’s always been easy for me to look down on the Pharisees (since Jesus had some harsh things to say to them) but I’ve never realized how their lives look very much like mine.

So what is the difference between a 1st century pharisee and a 21st century evangelical? It’s an important question for me, since, if I had to pick a single word for my own theological identity, it might be “evangelical” (whatever that means?!). The pharisees knew and kept the law (which isn’t a bad thing right?). Of course we know Jesus didn’t like the way they interpreted it. Jesus constantly questioned their deep heart motives. What the pharisees emphasized, Jesus seemed to de-emphasize.

What would Jesus say about the current Evangelical community as we know it? If Jesus were here now, would he compare us with them?





D’Souza vs. Ehrman

13 11 2010

Last night my wife let me go out of the house for a few hours to watch a debate between Dinesh D’Souza and Bart Ehrman. I’ve read Ehrman’s classic “Text of the New Testament” and have watched D’Souza a bunch, so I was excited to see these blokes go at it. They were debating God and the Problem of Suffering.

Not only was I intrigued by the people, and excited that the debate was about 5 minutes from my apartment, but also the topic is, in my opinion, super important. Ever since my little brother died, I’ve probably read 1-2 books per month on the topic of God and suffering. When David died, my whole world was rocked, and ever since I have been seeking God on the topic of pain, suffering, horror, and death.

Apparently Bart Ehrman, who is a top-notch scholar turned sour, was all about Jesus until he had to teach a class in the 80s about the Biblical answers to suffering. Upon completion of teaching this class, he decided he would be agnostic because he saw conflictions in the Biblical message(s) towards the topic of suffering. Basically, his whole thing is, “a good God would never want us to suffer.” Dinesh was playing the other side, defending our current situation and pronouncing that God is still good amidst it all.

Let me share my favorite aspect of each speaker, as well as what I thought were their respective greatest weaknesses.

1. Favorite aspect of Dinesh’s presentation: His great oration skills, his ability to think well on his feet, and his twisted explanation of the anthropic principle. In defending some of the evils in the world, Dinesh not only reminded the crowd that evil cannot always be blamed on God – in fact, God gave us free will and with this free will we decide to make bad choices which hurt other people. He also argued that because of geology we understand the importance of tecnonic plates, which not only help preserve life but also wreak havoc on our world by producing natural disasters. So the very situation of natural evil is also within the framework of what is necessary for human life in its very existence. I’ve never heard someone use geology in relation to the defense of God amidst natural disasters, and this new perspective was interesting for me.

2. Favorite aspect of Ehrman – His passion. He was really upset during the rebuttal period. He kept asking, “Why” about 10 different ways. Why doesn’t God answer our prayers? Why does all this evil happen? Why can we not answer our deepest questions, etc? He really cared about this subject, and understandably since his whole system of belief hinges on the answers to this question.

Where Dinesh failed – In his conclusion, he said that the Bible does not try to prove itself, but rather it makes declarative statements. And so we must not look to the Bible for answers of proof to our questions. Here, I believe there was a huge disconnect between him and the audience. He was saying it was wrong to look to the Bible for answers, and we should be like Job, and just lay down in submission. Not only do I think this is untrue, I think this is disgustingly unattractive. So my generation, who knows of the evil in our world, are not supposed to wrestle with it? Ultimately, as Ehrman said, Dinesh intellectualized the situation, and I agree. Although its possible to defend God in this world, we must do so without committing emotional amnesia/suicide.

Where Ehrman failed – In his conclusion, he gave his “vision” for what the world should look like. Essentially, it was 3 minutes of selfish, individualistic, western hedonism. What I don’t think he realized is that it had no resonation with me nor with anyone around me. He was saying, “we should just be happy, live for the moment, eat unhealthy food, have sex and babies, help other people…etc” My generation realizes this answer doesn’t work, especially within his very relative framework. He wants us to live according to his ideal world, but his ideal world wouldn’t work since there is no framework nor guideline for it. My generation realizes we need something more, and Ehrman is stuck in the past thinking what we’ve tried will somehow work in the future. So, in the end, Ehrman was not persuasive. Ehrman was also on the other side of the spectrum. Although highly emotional, he had no compelling intellectual arguments and so thus he had no backing to what he said.

Thats it for now, I’m happy to talk more about the debate, but theres a few nuggets for the moment.





Lausanne Reflection

2 11 2010

 

Recently I was able to be a part of something big and exciting – Lausanne in Capetown! Lausanne is a congress of around 4,000 Christian leaders from around 200 different countries. They met for over a week in Cape-Town Africa to talk about what being a Christian means (and should mean) in our world today. Many of the most influential speakers in the Christian church were there, and it was a time of learning and listening.

Gordon-Conwell was a Globalink site, which meant there were some people from around the area coming to Gordon-Conwell and we all sat together and watched some of these presentations as well as discussed with each other the implications of what was being said.

Seeing that this is one of the most important events of Christianity in this century, I figured I better be a part of it. Man I loved it. I’ve always known my passion is for the world, and being at Gordon-Conwell and partaking in events like Lausanne confirm to me how missional I am in my very person. I do love the world, and I weep at the heartaches it faces, as well as rejoice in how God works, especially through our 2/3 majority world Christian brothers and sisters. Us North Americans need some help, and so conferences like these – where leaders from Africa, Asia, Latin America, Australia, etc come together and discuss issues and challenges and highlights of Christian witness today – really helps me to understand God in new and different (non-western) terms and ultimately I believe, more holistically.

For my Theology of Mission Class, I was required to write a 5-page reflection paper on Lausanne (how cool is that!) I’ve put that document on google documents. If you want to read some of what I learned from the conference, feel free to check it out, and maybe you will get a glimpse of why I am so excited about the “whole church bringing the whole Gospel to the whole world!”

You can watch all the presentations for yourself here: http://www.lausanne.org/cape-town-2010

And you can read my reflections here: http://bit.ly/97Bmwj








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