Good Words I Didn't Write

My intention for this blog is to remind myself and its readers of the wonder of God, and the issues that might determine our awareness of God's will in our lives and the lives of others. Therefore, many of the things I write, I hope, are understood to be the musings of a man who is turning truth over and over in his hands, inspecting it, pondering it, trying to get a better feel for it. If some of my posts persuade, I hope that they do so with all gentleness.

Yet it is not my intention to persuade you so much with this post, but rather to remind you of the importance of a spiritual awareness, and how this can affect our present lives as well as the country in which we live. You may have your mind made up on who to vote for in the upcoming presidential elections, and it is not my desire to debate the merit of your choice. Mine is merely a desire to challenge - to remember, if you are a person of faith, what is important in such a time as this. After much personal consideration, below is both the candidate I am currently resolved to vote for, as well as the speech that persuaded me. I encourage you to watch it, not that you might be drawn into a specific political camp, but rather to be reminded of the role of faith and religion in this country. It is about 40 minutes long, but I do hope you will view it, even if you have to return to it a couple of times to hear it all. Even if you are already not interested in this candidate, please know that there is no mention of the current campaign, but only the issue of faith and politics. Whoever you choose to vote for, this speech is definitely worth hearing.

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...

Faith in the Mystery: Part One of a Response

Last week, I sat down and wrote the previous blog entry, "Leaving the Runway," in an effort to express the anxiety that I believe every Christian carries to some extent - that anxiety being the opposing forces of proof vs. faith. I was surprised to receive so many comments from people I did not know. Most of the people I know that read this blog rarely leave comments, so it is always a treat to be able to converse further over my thoughts and the feelings of others.

However, these comments were so varied in their critiques of what I wrote that, in one respect, I feel as if I am standing upon the crux of two see-sawing polar opposites when it comes to religious understanding. I hesitated at first to address these comments, but realizing they all came from thoughtful, intelligent people bringing, in their views, their own unique life experience, I feel now that to not address them would be a cop out. So, let me begin with the anonymous commenter on this, my Blogspot blog.

In order to conserve space and prevent this entry from stretching on too long, I will not include the entirety of "Anonymous'" quote, so if you would like to read it all, simply go to the entry just before this one and read the comments.

Anonymous (and even though there were two, I'm assuming it is the same person writing twice - even if I am mistaken, the sentiment in both is the same) came to my blog entry and was seemingly affected by a wishy-washiness he or she perceived in my reflection. What is more, Anonymous expressed concern that such an inability to cast away my anxiety and uneasiness of faith vs. proof might "infect" the youth group that I lead. Anonymous seemed upset that I would refer to the gospels as ambiguous, though, in reality, no matter how tightly one clings to the truth of the Gospels, only the naive would insist that there is no lack of information, that everything holds up perfectly and there is no reason to question anything. Unfortunately, many people cannot bring themselves to question the perspectives given to us in the gospels, let alone the validity of some of the details, even when one gospel differs slightly from other accounts. They simply cough out the "camera-angle" explanation, and bring into question the faith of the person calling parts of the gospels ambiguous.

Unfortunately for these people (and I'm not labeling Anonymous as one, though his sentiment reminded me of such people), the gospels, let alone the entire canon of Scripture, is ambiguous. It does not give us all the facts, and it does not answer every question and erase every doubt. For example, Genesis does not provide us with hard and fast proof of when and even how the earth was created. The Creation account is not a scientific dissertation. It is a narrative - a story - that delves beyond mere physical reasoning to the heart of the problem, that of human rebellion. In the same way, as I've told so many students in the youth group who have asked similar questions, Genesis is not an account of how the world began; it is an account of how God's relationship with man began, and that doesn't really start until chapter twelve with Abram.

The second thing that bothered Anonymous about my last entry was my closing metaphor, in which I try to paint a picture of what a life lived by faith is like, as opposed to a life lived solely by proof. Proof and certainty do not necessarily have to go together, as Hebrews 11:1 reminds us (and Anonymous attempted to remind me). However, faith and proof cannot go together, at least for a Christian. I was simply trying to illustrate that eventually, faith must stretch beyond proof. Anonymous wrote, referring to my metaphor, "I don’t believe that boarding the plane and leaving the runway is leaving something grounded, solid, or sure – if it was, no one would fly. In the same way, based on God’s promises, His real, historical, physical, incarnational provision of Christ, and His daily working in, through, and around us, we are convinced, sure, confident – full of faith, that what we hope for will happen. It isn’t a wishy-washy hope of uncertainty."

Quite true, and perhaps my use of the word "uncertainty" was a poor choice, but there are indeed two kinds of certainty. There is the certainty of proof, and there is the certainty of faith. These are not the same, as much as some of the "faithful" would like to insist they are. The certainty of proof is certain because it is "grounded," "sure," and scientifically provable. But faith has its own certainty, and it is not based on what is grounded or sure, no matter how true you believe the Bible to be (and I believe it to be quite true indeed despite it's ambiguous moments). The certainty of faith is found in our ability to hold to what we hope for no matter what goes on around us, what wars against our faith, and what challenges or shakes us to our core. Faith is a struggle, and as Paul Tillich intimated, it is not the opposite of doubt. Rather, doubt is one of the things that faith wraps itself around and redeems. Frederick Buechner writes of faith that it is "a journey without maps." So, ultimately, to those who dwell merely in the certainty of proof, the certainty of faith is not certainty at all, but uncertainty. However, for the faithful, as Anonymous is indeed one, faith is certainty. However, what we must all remember is that it is not the same as the world's view of what is and is not certain.

I am indebted to Anonymous for his or her comments, even if my metaphor was taken to some serious extremes to which no metaphor should ever be taken, and my ability to properly direct the youth under my charge was called into question. What Anonymous has helped me do is rethink my words and move even farther along this shadowy path we call earthly life.

There is still another pole which I need to address - a comment on my Xanga counterpart from a young man named Eric - before I can be finished with my response, but I will do this in another entry to come very soon. I think what I have written above is enough for us all - including me - to chew on.

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd. By faith, we see the world called into existence by God's word, what we see created by what we don't see. - Eugene Peterson's "The Message" translation of Hebrews 11:1-3