Good Neighbors?

Good fences make good neighbors...

In the opinion of Robert Frost, this was not true. However, lately I wonder if such a statement might actually be true for the Church. There are those in America who think so. There are also a large number of Christians who do not agree, who think the existing fences should be torn down and kept down if we are to achieve a safe, free, moral country. I am referring, of course, to the debate-inspiring issue of separation of Church and state. While not necessarily a hot-button issue (except in some organizations and in some churches), it is one that always rests under the surface of political and religious disputations, and normally works its way to the center of the argument eventually in everything from abortion, school prayer, stem-cell research, gay marriage, and other fiery discussions.

A spirited debate has been taking place on my friend, John's, blog. The entries and comments, including my own, has gotten me to thinking a bit more about this issue. Hence my proverbial hat tossed into the ring, my two cents being spent.

Growing up, what little I knew about the establishment and point of the separation of Church and state led me to think it an unfortunate thing. I grew up in a predominantly Republican, predominantly Christian world (and the truth as to whether or not it was actually this way never would have made it passed my naivety). I understood the central struggle of Church and government to be that the government thought the Church irrelevant and its morality worthless. Therefore, if the Church could affect the government in such a way that it would change such a view, respect the institution ordained by God, and go ahead and start upholding the Church's standard of morality, so much the better. Today, I realize there's really nothing wrong with the first part, or even the second (though Christians shouldn't determine their worth by what their government thinks of them). However, the third part is backwards, at least as far as I understand Scripture and the teachings of Christianity's central figure, Jesus the Christ.

There are two problems with the separation of Church and state, one falling on either side of the issue. For those who are against it, the problem becomes that, to marry the two, you come to two scary outcomes. Scary outcome number one, the government relegates the Church. Even scarier outcome number two, the Church relegates the government. We have pictures in history of both things happening in different countries, and the lines are so blurry between the two it is hard to tell how anyone got any kind of worshiping, humility, or missions work done. It could not have been easy.

For those that are for Church and state being separated (as it is now, as broadly addressed in the First Amendment), the outcome is not quite as scary, but it is dangerous. What is bred from such strong support of the separation, both in the Christian and non-Christian, is an us vs. them mentality. Now, there are a lot of things in our society that can spark such a disparaging outlook upon the world, and this issue, unfortunately, is one of them. It is easy for the proponent of the separation to maintain a relieved joy in the respective autonomy of the Church and the state, but, if not held in check, the proponent can eventually pull back from any kind of involvement in the other. "I have no business affecting change within the government," says the Christian. "After all, I'm a Christian. My allegiance lies only with the kingdom of God." "I'm not going to church," mutters the statesman. "It has nothing to do with who I am and what I do."

The Book of Romans addresses both problems quite pointedly - though in a slightly indirect way - in the thirteenth chapter. "Everyone must submit himself or herself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established ... Consequently, he or she who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted..." Anti-separation people - this means, like it or believe it or not, God has some purpose for whatever government you want to be assimilated into (or, rather, let's be honest, whatever government you want to assimilate). Pro-separation people - this text flies in the face of your us vs. them mentality as well. Did you notice the word "submit?"

"Submit." Serve. Affect. Work with. Get involved.

But what about Nazi Germany, Apartheid South Africa, even the Roman Empire during it's persecution of Jews and Christians and other third-class religions of the time? How can we possibly subject ourselves to such authority and still maintain a clear conscience?

This is why the text does not use the phrase "bend over and take it." Here in the verse, "submit" is not a state of being, just as it is not in Ephesians 5 (speaking of hot-button issues in the Church). It is a word of action. It means to get involved, to desire what is best for both parties, to see another's desire as just as valid as - if not more than - your own, and to work toward such ends to the best of your ability.

Maybe I'm reading into the text. Some might accuse me of this. Others might call me out on the text itself, saying it is not exactly relevant to the issue. Still others might take offense that I used the phrase, "bend over and take it."

But I think of Robert Frost. I think of the phrase, "Good fences make good neighbors..." and I wonder if maybe it is possible to build a fence and still know your neighbor to be good. Perhaps, instead of insisting on the fence, or seeking to tear it down, we should invite our neighbor to join us between the posts. Maybe, together, we can work on it, repairing it, and in doing so, learn more about each other, what makes each other tick. Maybe I can show my neighbor where the gate is, simply so, if he were ever so inclined, he might take an innocent stroll in my lawn and take notice how I tend my garden, how I maintain my home. Maybe I can stroll in his as well.

Hey, it beats standing judgmentally at my window, peering out across the razor wire through binoculars.

Faith in the Mystery: Part Three of a Response

Only a week since I ranted on trilogies, and I now post the third installment of my own monster blog epic. *Sigh* We are our own dissenter...

What makes a person a Christian, and by this I mean a true Christian? In my previous entry, I attempted to describe the stunted, culture-driven Christianity in which so many Christians become entangled and the majority of Christianity's critics point at as obvious reason that the Christian faith causes more problems than it solves. So, now, removing all the excess baggage - all the bias judgment and fundamental misguidance and loss of original purpose - from Christianity as we so often encounter it today, what, truly, makes a person a Christian?

Perhaps the following will serve as the remainder of my response to both the anonymous poster (mentioned in part one) and Kuvachim (the Xanga blogger I addressed in part two).

There are two "first-of-all" points that must be taken into account. Number one, anyone whose Christian faith crumbles into nothing if you were to remove their cultural identity from it has not discovered what it means to be a true Christian. Secondly, because of the personal nature of faith, one cannot claim said person is not still a Christian, because the Christian faith is something much greater - and much simpler - than cultural identity, and, for example, while it is not at odds with me being an American, it is not defined anymore by this reality than by the fact that I am right-handed or have freckled skin.

With that in place, it is obvious that determining whether a person is a Christian shapes up to be a difficult task (as far as certainty is concerned) for anyone other than God Himself. There is, however, a couple of things that allow for discernment.

According to Scripture, Christians did not come up with their name. It was rather a label; early followers of Christ as the Messiah were name-called "Christians." Why? Because the term basically meant something to the effect of "little Christs." It was a slightly derogatory, toss-off term that, strangely enough, summed up what Christ-followers appeared to be in the eyes of non-followers as well as what they considered themselves to be in their own eyes. Little Christs. A version of Christ drawn with slightly less drama. A "Christian" was easy to define..

Belief: A person whose priorities have shifted (mentally, spiritually, religiously, theologically, etc.) so that they now consider the followship of God to be most deeply marked by devotion unto Jesus of Nazareth, a crucified enemy of the Jewish Temple as well as Rome, who they claim resurrected from the dead and ascended to heaven, and has bestowed - upon those who follow him as the true Messiah - his Spirit, that which serves as a deposit of his continual presence, as a promise of his guidance, and as that which empowers and leads his followers in their faith.
Lifestyle: A person who, affected by their shifted priorities, now understand the call to humble themselves in the same way the Messiah humbled himself (to the point of death and beyond), and to worship the God of the Jews (Yahweh) as one in the same with Jesus (His Son), and to consider nothing in the present life, including political or religious allegiance, as important as this truth in which they have place their faith.

Beyond this, the term "Christian" did not really apply , thus making it a successful label, as any good name-caller knows not to make a slur too complicated (and, to be honest, the above definition contains a creed-like clarity and attention to detail that rings of someone who views the early Christian across a centuries-old distance). Ultimately, the followers of Christ adopted the label as their own. Indeed, it is a strange faith that finds its followers adopting a slur as its name and a ghastly Roman device of execution as one of its main symbols.

In seeking to answer the question, "What makes a person a true Christian?," one cannot go about adding anything more than what is collected above. A true Christian, in essence, means somebody that is marked by Christ both in belief and lifestyle. Not someone who is marked by Christ and cultural definitions of "Christian" morality (distributed by evangelists, books, politicians, or even the Church). Whether or not such definitions would hold up with how Jesus lived and what he taught, they still have nothing to do with being a Christian.

Then why do so many Christians insist on specific moral obedience? Because, at its core, this is part of the lifestyle of a Christian - refraining from sin and humbly seeking purity is at the core of being marked by Christ. But being marked by Christ is not driven by morality or even purity. It is driven by Christ and Christ alone.

Kuvachim wrote of leaving behind Christianity because it has become watered-down and because Jesus' divinity is questionable. I smile at his decision, not because I agree with it, but because he has at least sought to determine the right way to God, instead of swallowing what cultural Christianity feeds him. Me? Well, I seek to leave cultural Christianity behind every day, but I also strive daily to retain my faith in Christ, which is inseparable from my faith in God. And it is indeed faith, because I have been marked by Christ, and therefore my beliefs are constructed by my faith in the resurrected Jesus, even though there is no perfect proof for such an event. After all, that is why they call it faith.

The tag-line of my blog is, "Holding on to God for dear life," which comes from a song by Bill Mallonee called "Songwriter (Numb)." I think it is a beautiful picture of active faith - of belief and lifestyle marked by Christ. The final verse...

"In spite of all my ties I was drifting
Now the kids, they are full grown
And just because you've got an address doesn't mean you've got a home
And they say that it's a cruel world
Some cite it as a sad fact
They say God, He must not give a damn, and God says, 'Well I don't know about that'
'Cause I keep hearing whispers
Telling me everything is gonna be all right
You put some goodness back in and you take your stand and you hold on to Him for dear life..."

This all sprang from faith vs. proof. I don't believe God is provable. I do believe in God, and I have faith in Him. Faith is our way of holding on to Him, and I believe that Christ is the handle by which we cling.

Faith in the Mystery: Part Two of a Response

During the first week of March, around the time that pop-and-fizzle bottle rocket of a documentary, The Lost Tomb of Jesus, was making waves in the media and creating an annoying (although short-lived) buzz in the ears of archaeologists, biblical scholars, Catholics, and evangelicals alike, I sat down and wrote a blog article entitled, "Leaving the Runway." Click here to read it. In it, I struggled to separate what it looks like to live the Christian life by proof, and what it looks like to live the Christian life by faith. I received some varied comments, and in a subsequent post, I responded to one side of the argument, addressing the concerns of an anonymous commenter who challenged that there cannot be a separation between faith and proof. Click here to read that response.

But there was another side to the argument, one put forth by a Xanga blogger named Kuvachim. His point of view was - and I will do my best to summarize in a sentence or two (forgive me, Kuvachim) - that "Christianity" has become much too worldly and saturated by cultural and societal desires and impulses. Furthermore, Jesus, being a physical man, will not ultimately provide a strong enough leap for faith, because it takes very little faith these days to believe Jesus walked this earth. "However," as Kuvachim writes, "it takes total faith to acknowledge that there is a God, therefore I left Christianity, because God is where the faith is at."

There are several things to consider regarding this young man's view (click here to read his comments in their entirety). Let's start with the intimation that Christianity has become "watered-down." This is what Kuvachim writes, referring to the documentary: "I can see how this can be upsetting to the older Christian community, but to be honest, I doubt the younger generation will do much about this. Most likely, they will let it be, as Christianity gets further watered down by rationalism, proof and science. Is this good or bad, I do not know. In my personal opinion, Christianity is watered down to the point where it is unsalvagable without reversing time, or entering into some 'dark age' once more."

Kuvachim - and I hope he will forgive any assumptions that betray his true thoughts - is writing out of a specific understanding of Christianity - the mainstream, popular one. The Christianity he is referring to is the Christianity that most Christians - at least in the Western Church - live in on a weekly basis, and what most non-Christians consider to be what that particular faith system is all about, what it upholds and purports. This Christianity is a faith system that, despite recognizing and existing by its lawful separation from government, still adopts governmentally-charged societal issues (race, abortion, homosexuality, definition of a family, etc.) as plumb lines for its followers. It is a faith system that concerns itself with specific definitions of morality, and fuses to this question the anxious thought of whether this or that definition is consistent with the will of God (and, sometimes, vice versa). And, by these things, it is a faith system that is ultimately concerned with self, both individual and, where two or more are gathered, the worth of the group. As a result, that which goes against the accepted practices and beliefs (which are chained, of course, to that hammered-down stake of moralism) of this brand of Christianity immediately finds itself the enemy of the system, the outsider denied access to the "joy" within.

The Christianity Kuvachim writes about is worldly Christianity, and, ironically, it is most zealously defended by people desperate to escape the world. It is not faith in God, but faith in obedience to morality so that God will not hate us. And, alluding to Kuvachim's other point, the person of Jesus (not to mention the divinity of Jesus) gets all wrapped up in this system. The scariest thing about worldly Christianity is how viral it is, and how effectively it has engulfed true Christianity, true faith. Even now, in attempting to write an unbiased and balanced response, I am battling opinions and biases within myself indoctrinated in me by the worldly Christianity influence in my religious upbringing. Indeed, such a system settles around us daily, and can be quite hard to shake away from our thoughts and actions. The Apostle Paul called it our "nature," and I do believe the equation to worldly Christianity is simply "human nature + Christian belief." It's the inverse of what C.S. Lewis calls "Christianity-and-water."

So, if true Christianity were "worldly Christianity," Kuvachim's view would certainly be a valid one, and few would argue his reasoning for leaving such a faith and disregarding Jesus. After all, the tricky thing about that faith system is that it holds out Jesus Christ as the perfect example - the very heartbeat - of its principles and direction, just like true Christianity.

Unfortunately, what I have described above (however poorly or confusingly) is not true Christianity. I am quite unworthy and unlearned to try to unpack what is "true Christianity," but, then again, I don't think there's much unpacking needed here. Simply put, true Christianity involves a growing understanding that, as humans, we are to empty ourselves. Of what? Of everything that comes between us and God: our love of material things, our worship of other people, even our hard-and-fast doctrines and rules on how to follow Him.

That last part is the rub. Most Christians rarely achieve that. I know I haven't.

Kuvachim writes that he has left Christianity, but still seems to maintain faith in God. If it is worldly Christianity he has left, wonderful. I'd love some tips. The problem is, from his comments, I have gathered that he has left more than the worldly corruption of Christianity, but also part of what makes marks a life as truly Christian. He mentions leaving behind the person of Jesus, because, by becoming a man, there has come a whole mess of problems associated with following Jesus. As the documentary reveals, there is a lot of science (whether or not it is "good" science) and history that can challenge our accepted evidence that Jesus was resurrected, the core, foundational belief of a Christian.

And this is where faith vs. proof comes back into play...

...To be continued ... for the sake of length...