Biology, Zoology, Christology

The word, Christology, is rather like biology, or zoology, or any other word with “logy” attached to the end. It is the study or knowledge of Christ. What is Christ? How is Jesus of Nazareth Christ? What does Christ mean to me/us? 

In seminary I had to submit periodic papers in which I described my own personal Christology. The formation of my Christology was, and continues to be, a process. I trust that process is growth toward the truth. The comments that follow represent my latest articulation of that process.

The question of Christ is an extension of the question of God. The identity and nature of God are at stake in the rabbinic debates which make up a literary form in much Hebrew Scripture. What is God like? It’s a primeval question; and the varied approaches in Hebrew Scripture may seem to reveal more contradiction than consensus.

One testimony, generally represented by more ancient wisdom and prophetic writings, describes God as adversarially jealous in regard to his (sic) people and his territory. This testimony portrays a brutal God: judging and punishing any who defy or ignore him. Not even Genocide bothers this God; indeed, he orders it.

Counter-testimony, represented primarily by later wisdom and prophetic writings, presents God as gracious, nurturing, and restoring. The role of judgment belongs to God’s antagonist, Satan, while God works to reconcile a Satan-duped humanity to himself (again, using the male pronoun only to be consistent with Scripture).

It was the latter representation of God that Jesus of Nazareth chose to manifest in his own life and ministry. The Gospel of John picks up on one Hebrew concept of God’s presence, viz., “Word of the Lord”, and identifies Word as a manifestation of the eternal, pre-existent quality or persona of  God: “In the beginning was the Word” (John 1:1). In Jesus of Nazareth, that Word was lived out in human community—the “Word became flesh” (John 1:14). C. S. Lewis wrote, ““It is Christ Himself, not the Bible, who is the true word of God. The Bible, read in the right spirit and with the guidance of good teachers will bring us to Him.”[1]

Theologian, Walter Wink, begins the 9^th chapter of his book, The Powers that Be (Doubleday, 1998) with these words:

“American culture is presently in the first stages of a spiritual renaissance. To the degree that this renaissance is Christian at all, it will be the human figure of Jesus that galvanizes hearts to belief and action, and not the Christ of the creeds or the Pauline doctrine of justification by grace through faith. And in the teachings of Jesus, the sayings on nonviolence and love of enemies will hold a central place. Not because they are more true than any others, but because they are crucial in the struggle to overcome domination without creating new forms of domination.”

Recently on Facebook I posted a quote from a late colleague, teacher, and friend:

“If in reading the Bible you find justification for abusing, humiliating, disgracing, harming, or hurting, especially when it makes you feel better about yourself, you are absolutely wrong.” 

― Fred B. Craddock, The Collected Sermons of Fred B. Craddock

In response, a long-time friend (she used to baby-sit with our kids) posted: “If you're reading a Bible that justifies any of those things, you probably need to enroll in a remedial reading class AFTER you start wearing your new prescription lenses...”

That response is what stimulated this whole string of thought (for me, that’s not a difficult thing to accomplish!), and I responded:

“Actually, by being very, very selective in your reading of Scripture, it's possible to justify all of the above. The rabbinic method of testimony/counter-testimony debate runs throughout the Hebrew Scriptures and into the recorded teachings of Jesus. That method compared contradictory propositions and the subsequent debates among the rabbis were seen as ways of increasing the faith. There is a distinct and consistent trajectory throughout, and if we follow that trajectory we eventually find Jesus of Nazareth, who took sides in the debate, rejecting all the things named in the Craddock quote above. My choice is to affirm Jesus' position and try to live it. After more than 77 years, I feel as if I'm just beginning to comprehend what Jesus was all about.”

The thoughts kept coming. The following concluding comments are an expansion of a subsequent post in the Facebook conversation with my friend:

The idea of the biblical trajectory isn't my idea originally; I discovered it in the writings of a postmodern theologian named Derek Flood[2]. Moreover, the testimony/counter-testimony[3] tag is from Walter Brueggemann, a leading scholar of Hebrew Scripture. Perhaps a better way to apply Jesus' relationship to that trajectory is to say that it describes the human comprehension of the will of God, and Jesus CHOSE that trajectory (see the temptation narratives in Matthew 4, Mark 1, and Luke 4) and lived it out as "the visible image of the invisible God" (Colossians 1:15). It is in his total obedience to that divine will that he fulfills the Hebrew anticipation of the servant of God. 

“Servant” is Isaiah’s characterization of the messianic anticipations of Israel. Isaiah described the “servant” in a series of Servant Songs: Isaiah 42:1-4; 49:1-6; 50:4-7 and 52:13-53:12. Some scholars add Isaiah 61:1-3; although the word servant does not appear in the passage. I believe it was specifically through these passages that Jesus experienced and accepted his identity. It is through those servant songs that I find the clearest and most consistent understandings of Jesus as the anticipated Christ. To the degree that we live and manifest that same divine will we live "in Christ" (Romans 6:11, 23, et. al.)”

[Note: All footnotes were added during this present writing and did not appear in the initial Facebook posts.]

That’s how it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,
Jim

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[1] C. S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Vol III, edited by Walter Hooper (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco: @ 2007)—Spcifically, a letter written to a Ms. Johnson on November 8, 1952.

[2] Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives, and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did. (San Francisco: Metanoia Books, 2014), 82, et. al.

[3] Walter Brueggemann. Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997), 317-318.

The Common Denominator

Today I want to start at the end. In summarizing and concluding his book, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did, Derek Flood begins with:

“The primary purpose of Scripture (is) to lead us to the one who is Life, Love Truth, and the Way. Scripture has the primary task of leading us into a living relationship with God in Christ, and then after that to continue to be a window through which we can commune with God in which the Spirit can communicate God’s love to us, leading us to love others with that same Jesus-shaped love. That’s the devotional, Spirit-centered, gospel-focused reading that needs to be at the center of how we read Scripture as Scripture.”[1]

I closed my last blog by saying Jesus established Love as the common denominator for all who read Scripture. The Bible was never intended to be a taskmaster, placing a burden on our back; it was intended to act as a servant, leading us to love God, others and ourselves (Matthew 22:37-40). If we read it in any way that leads to the opposite of this, we get it wrong. So whenever the religious leaders interpreted the Law in any way that hindered people from finding healing, and life, Jesus publicly opposed their hurtful interpretation.

This emphasis on love as the final purpose of Scripture has major consequences because it differs quite sharply from the way the vast majority of us have learned to interpret Scripture. We are taught instead, to focus on the “correct” reading, with everything harmonizing and lining up perfectly. In most cases it’s a kind of circular approach that begins with a doctrine or dogma about the Bible and then uses the Bible to “prove” the doctrine.

But when the focus on “correct” interpretation takes priority, love takes a back seat. The focus “being right” is at the expense of love. It is precisely this “by the book” obsession that led American Christians in the past to justify slavery and eventually led to an uncivil war. And those who took the authority of Scripture most seriously were the ones most likely to conclude that the Bible sanctioned slavery. [2] Unspeakable cruelty and barbarity was committed in the name of submitting to the authority of Scripture.

This obsession with “being right” trumps love—almost always. The prioritizing of scriptural fidelity at the expense of grace is a direct parallel to the fundamentalism of the Pharisees Jesus so adamantly opposed. Despite their desire to “be right," modern-day Christian Pharisees get the Bible dead wrong. As Paul puts it, if we don’t have love, all our doctrines and biblical interpretations are just meaningless noise (I Corinthians 13:1-3). When read “right”, Scripture always leads to love.[3]

And we cannot afford to forget that Jesus loved the people on the fringes of society—the very ones the Pharisees considered unworthy of love; indeed, Jesus loved even those who hated him. And Jesus loved them without requiring them to change first. Indeed, it was his love, given freely and unconditionally, that empowered them to change. 

That last sentence may be the single most frequently missed part of the gospel message: Love/Grace precedes repentance and change; indeed, Love/Grace is the empowering factor behind repentance. We have seen--in history, in Scripture and in our own lives--that the law and the threat of punishment do not motivate repentance and change [how fast do you drive in a 55 mph zone?]. Only love, with its vision of wholeness and peace can do that.

During this final week of Lent—called Holy Week—I hope to make some personal application of the principles I've discovered during my Lenten Pilgrimage toward learning to read the Bible as Jesus did. But for now,

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (San Francisco: Metanoia Press, 2014) Kindle edition, Location 3360.

[2] Mark A. Noll, The Civil War as a Theological Crisis (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006).

[3] Today’s blog is heavily dependent upon Derek Flood, op. cit., Chapter Three, Location 959ff, with an occasional insertion by yours truly.

A More Excellent Way

With a lot of help from Derek Flood[1], Walter Wink[2], Walter Brueggemann[3] and others, I've been exploring how to read the Bible as Jesus did. Basically, Jesus applied the rabbinic hermeneutic[4] of faithful questioning, in contrast to the approach of the Pharisees of his day, who employed a hermeneutic of unquestioning obedience.

Ever since Christianity first began its shameless dance with political power, the Bible has been used primarily to maintain orthodoxy and define heresy. When Constantine marched his army into the ocean and pronounced them “baptized”, the church began a long history of enforcing orthodoxy with threats of death, torture, exclusion and hell fire. The record of atrocities is almost endless, from the crusades and the inquisition, to Puritan witch hunts to slavery to basically every human rights issue.

In every case, the practitioners of barbarism viewed their interpretation of the faith as the one and only “right” reading, and enforced their “right” way with violent use of power. This clearly represents the very worst of the way of unquestioning obedience and inevitably leads to violence committed in God’s name.[5] It is a total misreading of Scripture’s intent.

In striking contrast is rabbinic Judaism’s tradition of faithful questioning. Rabbi Anson Laytner makes the case that faithful questioning is typical, not only of the Hebrew Bible, but also of the Jewish faith itself.[6] (I have this delightful image of Tevye arguing with God in “Fiddler on the Roof.”)

Key examples of faithful questioning are found throughout the Jewish commentaries on the Scriptures. Instead of a single interpretation that establishes the orthodox, “right” way of reading Torah, the commentaries typically present dissenting views from various rabbinic sages, offered side by side like the transcript of a courtroom trial. It may help to recall that the word, “Israel” means “wrestles with God.”

From this line of thought we can see that reading Scripture by faithfully questioning violence and harm perpetrated in God’s name is not only characteristic of Jesus and Paul and the rest of the New Testament, it’s also a deeply Jewish way to read Scripture. Remember: Jesus also was a rabbi, steeped in that tradition.

Every culture and every religious faith is susceptible to error. The root of the matter is not necessarily within the particular culture or religion, but rather is the marriage of religion and political power. This always is a poisonous combination, and is the point at which the church diverges from the way of Jesus.

But there always are those anxious souls who want to nail everything down, who want guarantees and control over their destinies, both temporal and eternal. Their needs are such that they must live by sight, and not by faith.[7] The harm emerges when their insecurities lead to the use—or at least the threat—of violence to silence dissent. The greatest heresy is their belief that the use of force is a valid example of upholding the faith.

 The key difference between Jesus and the Pharisees, and between differing groups today is in which narrative we choose to embrace, and which we choose to avoid, discount or (as Jesus did) outright reject. The question is not whether we will choose some texts and ignore or reject others. Even the most fundamental literalist reads the Bible selectively, if only by emphasis and tone of voice. Rather, if we are to read the Bible as Jesus did, the question is which texts we choose and by what criteria!

The criterion both Jesus and Paul used is love. I will develop that theme more in the blogs that follow; but here is a teaser:

"While the Pharisees were focused on strict adherence to religious rules and regulations (the “right” or “correct” reading), the priority of Jesus was instead focused on loving and caring for people in need. Clearly, the way Jesus understood faithfulness to Scripture was that it should lead to love. ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” and “Love your neighbor as yourself’ Jesus said, ‘All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments’ (Matthew 22:37049).”[8]

How then can we continue to claim that Scripture is inspired if it truly justifies hurt and damage to people? As Christians we affirm that the Scriptures are good, intended to lead us to love. However, as history reveals, it also can be read in an abusive way. My teacher, the late Fred B. Craddock once said, “There is nothing so holy that it does not have its pornographers.” Paul also wrote, “I found that the very commandment that was intended to bring life actually brought death” (Romans 7:10).

The common denominator is love.

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn How to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (San Francisco: Metanoia Press, 2014).

[2] Walter Wink, The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millennium (New York: Galilee Doubleday, 1999).

[3] Walter Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005).

[4] Hermeneutic, derived from Hermes, the messenger of the gods in Greek mythology, is the process of transmitting the divine message into language and concepts that can be understood by humans. In recent generations it has become generalized to mean any process of interpretation.

[5] Flood, op. cit., Kindle Version, Location 1017.

[6] Anson Laytner, Arguing with God: A Jewish Tradition (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson Inc. 1990).

[7] The direct opposite of the life of faith described in II Corinthians 5:7.

[8] Derek Flood, op. cit., Kindle version, Location 967.

Taking Sides

I've been sharing my personal journal of my Lenten journey. Instead of “giving up” something for Lent, I've decided to “take on” something. Specifically, I’m taking on the challenge of learning to “Read the Bible Like (sic) Jesus Did.”

I'm fascinated by the way unplanned events in life sometimes line up in unexpected and explainable patterns. A buddy plays with the cigarette lighter in my car and drops it, burning a nickel-sized hole on the seat. As a result, I have to replace the seat covers. Had Whites Auto Store not been a half-block from where I worked, I might have gone to Western Auto or Sears and I’d have missed her, because she left on vacation with her family and then returned to School at TCU.

But there I was, walking into Whites Auto Store to buy seat covers, and there she was. 51-and-a-half years later, we’re still soul mates.

Had I not taken that Thomas Bandy book to read on the flights to and from General Assembly in 2005, the cumulative understandings of 45 years of ministry would not have taken the specific turn it took. Had I not been pressured into early retirement three months later, I probably would never have taken time to develop that new direction. Had I not served as Interim Minister in Trenton, Missouri, I’d not have found that Edward Hammett book that was left in the desk—the book in which I found the concept that united all my work and study so that new direction finally made sense.

In either story, had any link of the chain been omitted, who knows where life would have taken me? I don’t believe life is scripted and planned so that everything happens for a reason. I don’t believe humans are puppets or robots and God pushes buttons and manipulates strings to make things happen.

But I do believe God is present, and that sometimes events string together in unexpected and unexplained ways. And I believe those two observations are somehow related. I don’t understand; but for now, I choose to celebrate the Serendipity of God in life.

Had I not read Edward Hammett’s book I might never have made the connections regarding the relationship between the Millennial Generation and the church. Millennials don’t want doctrines or rules or archaic (and usually ineffective, sometimes even counterproductive) organizational structures. They want to know how to follow Jesus. Had I not made that connection, my eye may not have been drawn to the title of Derek Flood’s book, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn To Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (my underlining.)

   But here I am, deep into the book, and if you've been following these blogs you’ll recognized that I’m stuck on high center while the impact sinks in. For the first time in my life the contradictions in the Bible make sense. I've spent a lifetime in damage control—trying to defend the Scriptures by explaining away the contradictions.

Well, guess what! I rediscover that the Scriptures don’t need my defense! Once again I’m challenged to let the Scriptures speak for themselves without trying to make them say what I learned in Sunday School.

 The contradictions are there intentionally, and are part of the message! They represent the ongoing debate of the community of faith, struggling to discern the nature and will of God.

One side of the debate sees God as territorial, vengeful and blood-thirsty; a warrior calling for genocide, dashing babies’ heads against rocks and disemboweling pregnant women! This perspective is the more ancient of the two sides, probably the residue of pagan superstitions that surrounded the Israelites and continued to influence the practice of their faith.

The other side relates to Melchizedek, the mysterious figure who blesses Abram in Genesis 14 and to whom the risen Christ is compared in Hebrews 7. Melchizedek is the “King of Salem” (or Shalom); and it’s interesting that in one rabbinic interpretation Messiah would be called “Prince of Peace (Shalom)”.

This second side of the debate was largely ignored until the 8^th century prophets begin calling for justice in place of sacrifice and mercy in place of ritual incantations.

Following Babylonian captivity (ca. 586 – 516 BCE), the debate was fully developed in the diverse Jewish expectation of a messiah. Would messiah be a military/political hero who would lead Israel in conquest over Israel’s enemies? Or would he be the Suffering Servant of the second part of Isaiah: one who would not break a bruised reed or snuff out a smoldering wick; but would be faithful to justice (Isaiah 42:3 & Matthew 12:20).

Which would Messiah be: a warrior/king like David (it’s interesting in this context to remember that God would not allow David to build a temple because David had drawn blood!), or a selfless healer and reconciler of humanity?

The debate peaked in the confrontations between Jesus and the leaders of the religious establishment. And as Jesus quoted the Scriptures, it’s not that he “cherry-picked” the sweet, gentle passages. He took sides. He made his stand on one side of the debate!

In Luke 4, for example, Jesus’ audience longed for God’s wrath. They believed—like so many Jews and Christians still do today—that justice is fulfilled by the destruction of their enemies. Jesus challenged this common religious belief.

This violent view was at the heart of the common Jewish hope that Messiah would come in vengeance: a warrior king who would vanquish the pagan oppressors and restore Israel to its glory.

So, in Luke 4:16-30, when the people hear that Jesus will work to liberate the people from their oppression, they are pleased. But, when they understand that this will involve showing grace and not vengeance to Gentiles, they become furious with Jesus and try to kill him.[1]

Jesus had chosen part of a text (Isaiah 61:1-2) which contained elements of both sides of the debate; but Jesus didn't ignore the remainder. He totally rejected it. He took sides; and that realization impacts the way I read…

…the rest of the story.

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk

Jim

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[1] Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (San Francisco: Metanoia Books, 2014) Kindle edition, Location 938f.

Life as Consequence

[Note: these Lenten blogs may seem redundant to my readers (both of you). Remember that these blogs journal a personal spiritual journey. I revisit previous material, sometimes to refresh, sometimes to check out, “Did I really get that right?” etc. Each re-visitation takes me deeper into understanding. Hopefully, my reexaminations are not distracting for my readers.]

The Millennial Generations [Generations “X” (born 1965-1981) and “Y” (born 1982-2000)] are turned off religiously by rules, doctrine, institutional church polity and judgmentalism. Come to think of it, so am I.

Millennials want a simple, honest spirituality based upon following Jesus. They want a faith with integrity—one that is lived, more than preached. Come to think of it, so do I.

But for me the idea was still mostly cognitive (head stuff) until my nephew (a “Millennial”) began developing the idea of spending a year trying to experience what it means to follow Jesus—truly. Here’s a link to his "Jesus Project": My Jesus Project

I don’t believe in fate—that life is scripted and everything is planned and “meant to be.” I believe things happen because we make choices: some good; some bad. Life is the complex network of consequences resulting from human choices.

And I don’t believe in luck. I believe "Luck is where opportunity and preparedness meet.” (source unknown)

But I also believe that God is present in all of this, calling humanity to follow a particular “Way.” The clearest articulation of that divine invitation is Jesus of Nazareth.

God has a plan, and invites us to follow that plan. When we accept God’s invitation, life makes sense, at least more often than when we choose our own way (and each of us at some time thinks, “I have a better idea”). When we choose our own way a complex network of consequences confronts us with confusion, distrust, fear and occasional violence. Human culture is the mix of consequences of diverse human choices.

But, again, while I don’t believe in fate, sometimes life happens in unexplained ways: some good, some bad. Long ago I gave up the need to explain everything in life; and, “Why?” is a useless word in most cases of the unexplained.

So, recently my attention was tweaked while looking for a book to download. I’m following my nephew’s “Jesus Project”, and even outlining a series of sermons on following Jesus. So, my eye was drawn irresistibly to part of a book title that read, …And Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did. (my underlining)

It seemed like a “God Moment,” so I downloaded it, and within a few pages I was being “Led by the Spirit” into the wilderness of my Lenten journey.

Derek Flood, the author, takes on the Old Testament contradictions that have troubled people of faith for centuries. For most of my adult life I've understood them as the residue of a progressive human understanding of God, the earlier understandings reflecting a more violent, vengeful, warrior God and the later understandings moving toward Jesus’ articulation of God as merciful, redeeming Father.

Flood doesn't try to make the contradictions go away. Drawing from Walter Brueggemann, he submits that the contradictions are an intentional and essential part of Scripture.They represent an ongoing debate as people of faith try to comprehend the nature of God. One side of the debate reflects a territorial, vengeful warrior divinity who demands violence to the point of genocide.

The other side, quite possibly emerging from the faith of Melchizedek (Gen 14:17-18; Ps 110:4; Hebrews 5-7), posits a God who enters into covenant with humanity: relating and sustaining, holding humanity accountable to the covenant, but always offering grace and redemption when human faithfulness wavers.

The Scriptures offer these contradictory images, says Brueggemann, as testimony/counter-testimony, as in a courtroom debate. The dispute was ongoing in the adversarial relationship between Jesus and the Pharisees, and continues today in the polarization between conservatives and liberals of the faith.

The gospels seem unavoidably obvious as to which side of the debate Jesus took. And yet, the debate continues to divide the community of faith that gathers in his name. In most cases it’s a matter of emphasis: grace vs. law, faith vs. works. Virtually all Christians talk about “salvation by grace, through faith;” but, some say that repentance must precede grace, while others say that grace is the power that enables repentance. [You say tomato, I say to-mah-to… and how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?]

The debate, itself, has become the contradiction and distraction at the heart of the sixty-year decline in the North American church. The “spiritually yearning, institutionally disillusioned public”[1] is growing, and its discontent is finding voice in those who cry, “The grace/law-faith/works debate has distracted the church long enough! Is your faith in Jesus or in the correctness of your doctrine?”

In many ways we've confused faith with the content of belief. But faith is a verb. Faith is the living out of belief. Belief, no matter how fervently held, puts one on the same level as the demons, who also believe (James 2:19). Belief is “talking the talk.” Faith is “walking the walk.” And a whole generation, joined by a few of us older types, is confronting a divided, bickering Christianity, saying, “Shut up and walk!”

Imagine the consequences if we really did that.

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Thomas G. Bandy, Christian Chaos (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1999). This population is mentioned and described in this and several other of Bandy's books, including, Coaching Change, Kicking Habits: Welcome Relief for Addicted Churches, and others.

WWJD?

In virtually every meeting he attended, a kind, sensitive and beloved pillar of the church pleaded, “What can we do to attract younger adults and younger families?” His concern was well-intentioned. North American churches have been in decline since the late 1950’s; and, he has worked hard all his life to build his congregation and keep it strong. Now advanced in age, he continues to do more than most church members do; but his energy and strength are fading and he’s concerned about seeing all his work go down the drain. Much church energy over the last few decades has been devoted to “attracting younger adults and younger families.”

It will be 55 years this August since I preached my first sermon at Hickory Tree Baptist Church in Balch Springs, Texas. I was 18. During the years of my undergraduate schooling and military service I preached now and then, doing youth revivals and filling the pulpit when pastors were away.

 In August, 1968 I returned from Vietnam, was released from active duty and began work on my Master of Divinity at the Graduate Seminary of Phillips University in Enid, Oklahoma. I also was called as Student Pastor to First Christian Church of Waynoka, Oklahoma (almost in the panhandle; go to the end of the world and turn left).

From then until October of 2005, I was a parish minister. That was the time of decline in the North American church, and not even the emergence of entrepreneurial mega-churches slowed down the decline. By the time I retired no denomination or association of churches had escaped the slide.

Strangely, while church membership and participation decreased, surveys and polls in the 90s began to indicate that 95% of North Americans (plus or minus, depending upon the poll) believed in God. Religious emphasis weeks on college and university campuses attracted crowds, especially if featured speakers were celebrities or practitioners of magic, eastern mysticism, witchcraft, Satanism or other fringe religion.

Around the turn of the 21^st century phrases began to emerge, like, “I’m spiritual but not religious,” and Canadian churchman, Thomas G. Bandy collected and assimilated related data and identified what he called the largest and fastest growing spiritual population in North America: “the spiritually yearning, institutionally disillusioned public.” The majority of that population, he observed, was under 40 years of age.

When one observes the typical church in North America, the overwhelming majority of those participating will older than 60, it will be in a survival mode and its oft-repeated mantra is, “What can we do to attract younger adults and younger families?”

About that same time the 1991 landmark work of William Strauss and Neil Howe, Generations, was making an impact on those who studied spiritual, religious and ecclesiastical components of society. During my work as Transitional Minister I have focused, with observable effect, on what my parents and grandparents called “the generation gap;” except that today that gap is a multiple one, separating six generations!

What I have discovered is that the primary strategy by which the church struggles to survive is precisely what’s strangling it to death: cutting expenses—and therefore ministries—across the board. In my estimation, it would be better to narrow a congregation’s focus and to adequately fund one or two meaningful ministries, than to try to keep the entire traditional slate of seven (or however many) functional committees operating on shoestrings. There’s just not enough mayonnaise left in the jar to spread the whole loaf!

That economic strategy is one symptom of the church’s death rattle that has been heard for several decades: “We never did it that way before.”

My favorite definition of insanity is “doing the same thing again and expecting a different result.” Try this: if you want to attract young adults and young families, ask them what they want from a spiritual experience, and do that. You probably will discover that you don’t have to replace the organ and the choir with drums, guitar and video screens, although you may end up using both.

Theologian Walter Wink writes: “American culture is presently in the first stages of a spiritual renaissance. To the degree that this renaissance is Christian at all, it will be the human figure of Jesus that galvanizes hearts to belief and action, and not the Christ of the creeds or the Pauline doctrine of justification by grace through faith.”[1]

Everything I hear and read regarding the spirituality of millennial generations[2] affirms the accuracy of Wink’s statement. Millennials care little about doctrines or denominations or congregational polity. They want know how to follow Jesus—to be more like Jesus. My nephew, a Millennial and a prolific writer, has embarked on a one-year project to discover through study, prayer and praxis what it means to follow Jesus (myjesusproject.com).

And so, when I came across a book whose subtitle includes the phrase, “Why We All Need to Learn to Read Scripture Like Jesus Did,” I was interested. It’s been challenging, as you can discover by reading my previous seven blogs. It’s also enlightening and inspiring, and I believe it points us in the right direction.

I’m with the Millennials in that I really am not vested in the survival of any church or congregation unless that church or congregation has a passion to follow Jesus. I agree with Walter Wink that American Culture is in the first stages of a spiritual renaissance, and I want to be in on it.

That’s how I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Walter Wink, The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millennium (New York: Doubleday Galilee, 1999), Kindle edition Location 1961.

[2] A generalized melding of Strauss’ and Howe’s generations “X” (born between 1964 and 1981) and “Y” (born between 1982 and 2000).