Showing posts with label Social Justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Social Justice. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Ambushed!


[This blog begins a journal of a personal quest for a more effective evangelism: an evangelism with credibility and biblical integrity.]
We were vacationing at a lakeside resort in east Texas. Early Saturday morning we were sitting on the deck enjoying the beautiful setting, when a family strolled by. The woman trailing the group asked, “Do you know Jesus as your personal savior?”
We both said, “Yes,” partly because it’s true; but mainly to get rid of her!
On a busy sidewalk a man stepped directly in front of me like an NFL linebacker and asked, “If you were to die today, where would your soul be tomorrow?” 
I said, “In heaven, with Christ,” partly because it’s true; but mainly to get rid of him.
One advantage evangelical Christians have over us mainliners is their evangelistic passion based on their conviction that people are going to hell. I honor that passion.
While I admire their passion and devotion, and although I don’t have an effective alternative, I cannot with integrity participate in their strategy. I truly believe the rude, confrontational approach drives more people away from God’s kingdom than it attracts. It’s just common sense!
On the other hand, we mainliners, in our effort to make sure everybody knows we’re “not that kind of Christian,” have unwittingly communicated that we don’t have a sense of urgency about living like and for Jesus.[1] We abandoned evangelism during the 1960s, rationalizing that “everything we do is evangelism.” And, while results are not a valid motivation for evangelism, they certainly are an indicator of effectiveness, and our journey is a classic example of throwing the baby out with the bath water!
Still, the in-your-face approach of the two people mentioned above is counterproductive on at least two levels. First, it’s an ambush. NOBODY wants to be ambushed! Second, it’s dehumanizing. I felt like a “mark” in both situations.
Their rationalization is that it’s not a confrontation; it’s an invitation. I get that; however, if it walks like a duck… 
I find it incredulous that anybody believes it’s an effective invitation that would attract anybody at all! In the first place, there’s no context. It’s just… an ambush! Of course, neither was there a context when Jesus encountered some fishermen and said, simply, “Follow me.” Still, I think I'd be more likely to respond positively to "Follow me" than to "If you were to die today, where would your soul be tomorrow?"
It’s a real conundrum. I sense the call to share faith; but, aside from the pulpit and the classroom (where I’m very comfortable), I need a context within which to do so. Unfortunately, the counterproductive approach described above has established a negative social context for virtually any initiation of faith talk. Consequently, a prior step in Christian witness is to build a receptive context—to overcome the negative stereotypes associated with any manifestation of organized religion. The truth is, I''ve not seen any mainline effort to do even that.
Aside from context, there’s also the issue of content. Evangelical Christianity seems to reject any call to “justice and righteousness” as an earthly call, substituting a call to prepare to a future heavenly existence. 
I have issues with either/or propositions. The New Testament presents a both/and call to faith and action[2]: the call to faith is a call to trust that God’s grace is sufficient to settle the issue of our eternal destinies. In that faith one is free to concentrate on God’s call in Christ to bring in the reign of God “on earth as it is in heaven.” 
One Christian doctrine says this world is the kingdom of Satan and will remain so until Christ returns. God has issued a special “dispensation” that puts everything on hold until that return; therefore, there is no purpose accomplished in ministries of social justice. I do not share that doctrine, because my reading of the book of Revelation does not arrive at those conclusions.
The Gospel’s call to faith (salvation) is a beginning. Once a person is saved, what’s next? The Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20) is a call, not get people saved, but to “make disciples” (which begins with being saved.) Disciple means follower. It implies action. It implies imitating Jesus’ own ministry. 
Faith leads to partnership; called in Christ to actualize the qualities described in his Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-10) and in his opening statement of purpose in Nazareth (Luke 4:18-19). He frequently fleshed out those virtues with undeniable calls to serve the disadvantaged and to work for justice. The Parable of the Sheep and Goats is one compelling example (Matthew 25:31-46).
Yes, Jesus was confrontational, but not to those he came “to seek and to save”. His confrontations and his harshest criticisms were reserved for those who used their influence to establish and benefit from policies that increased their wealth and power while keeping the disadvantaged in their place, and then rationalized their approach by blaming the victim: “Poverty is a self-inflicted result of laziness.” Sound familiar? His confrontations got him killed.
It’s interesting to note that at Nazareth his confrontational witness was counterproductive; in fact, he was run out of town! But his Beatitudes drew many followers. Perhaps—do you think?—this comparison could serve as a foundation for an effective approach to evangelism. By lifting up the visionary ideals that describe the reign of God, perhaps the spiritually yearning, institutionally disillusioned public[3] would be drawn to Christ[4], instead of repulsed by a dehumanizing strategy. Maybe it’s a starting place.
That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.
Together in the Walk,
Jim


[1] This is a paraphrase from Derek Penwell, Outlandish: an Unlikely Messiah; a Messy Ministry; and the Call to Mobilize (St. Louis, Missouri: Chalice Press, 2018) page 16.
[2] In many ways faith and action cannot be separated. In the New Testament, faith is not faith until it is tested and demonstrated. Until then, it’s simply a system of beliefs.
[3] A description coined by Thomas G. Bandy in Christian Chaos, et al.
[4] Which doesn’t automatically mean “join the church”. As a mainline Protestant, I continue to insist that evangelism does not have as its purpose the increase in membership of specific congregations. The Body of Christ is infinitely more than the established church.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Jesus, Don't You Walk So Fast!

Two images are bouncing around in my mind, bumping into each other and stirring up dust. One is the 1935 book title, In His Steps, by Charles Sheldon. It journals a pastor leading his congregation in a one-year pilgrimage to become more like Jesus by asking at each event and circumstance, “What would Jesus Do?”

The other image is the Wayne Newton song from a number of years ago: “Daddy, Don’t You Walk So Fast.”

My Lenten journey this year is an effort to walk “In His Steps”, specifically in regard to how Jesus read Scripture; but the pace is fast, set by Derek Floods’ book, Disarming Scripture (Metanoia Books, 2014).

Flood confronts the difficult and mostly avoided question of how we reconcile the apparent biblical contradiction of a God who sometimes seems loving and nurturing, and at other times orders total genocide, dashing babies’ heads against rocks and disemboweling pregnant women (Hosea 13:16, et. al.).

The book urges the reader to “take a long and sobering look at the extent to which human violence is not merely described in the Bible, but actively promoted as God’s will. This is not simply a matter of a few troublesome passages. Violence and bloodshed committed in God’s name is a major theme of the Old Testament” (Kindle edition, Location 127)

Swiss theologian, Raymund Schwager, writes, “Approximately one thousand passages speak of Yahweh’s blazing anger, of his punishment by death and destruction, and how like a consuming fire he passes judgment, takes revenge, and threatens annihilation … No other topic is as often mentioned (in the Old Testament) as God’s bloody works.”[1]

Flood suggests that the questions we ask are even more pointed because of Christianity’s long history of violence, which he proceeds to document, noting the Crusades, slavery, Native Americans, the 800,000 Tutsis killed in the Rwandan genocide and other examples, all justified by the use of Scripture and committed in God’s name. “This is our legacy as Christians and we need to face it head-on, rather than trying to ignore or excuse it” (Kindle edition Location219).

So, what responses have been offered in view of God-ordered violence? Atheism generally has responded with anger and aggressive language. “New Atheist,” Richard Dawkins, writes: “The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all of fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.”[2]  [Other than that, I wonder what he thinks of God.]

Conservative Christians, on the other hand, generally attempt to justify the violence, basically letting the horrible, even ungodly, morality issues be trumped by the importance of defending Scriptural integrity as they understand it.

In the conquest of Canaan as recorded in Hebrew Scriptures, the Israelites are ordered to kill “everything that breathes” (Deut 20:16). The slaughter is to be complete, including not only humans but, also herds and pets; and when one Israelite attempts to keep a goat or a cow for himself, God orders him put to death.

One commentary justifies the genocide at Jericho as necessary “so that Israel would not be ‘infected by the degenerate religion of the Canaanites,’ declaring that ‘pure faith and worship’ could only be maintained ‘by the complete elimination of the Canaanites themselves’.”[3]

A mega-church pastor compares the Canaanites to a cancer that must be eliminated for the health of God’s people. He calls the genocide "surgery". Another commentary suggests that these stories would be “more palatable” if we think in abstract terms (effectively dehumanizing the victims of genocide).

What seems to be lost in the conversation is the disturbing similarity between these arguments and those used by Hitler to justify the Holocaust!

Why would (presumably) good, loving people go to such lengths to justify genocide in God’s name? Their perspective is based on the sincerely held assumption that faithfulness to Scripture means accepting everything it says at face value. (I hope Flood will flesh out this point in later chapters. If he doesn't, I may make the attempt.)

But there’s a third (and equally ineffective) approach that Flood calls “Cherry-Picking”, and lays it at the feet of progressive or liberal Christians. Essentially, this is the practice of using blinders when we approach the Bible. We’ll just pick out the sweet, nurturing, likable texts, those that call for ministries of compassion and justice, and those that make us feel good, and ignore those more troubling parts.

The primary fault with this third approach is that it’s dishonest (my word, not Flood’s). The secondary fault is that, like the other two approaches, it does nothing to resolve the related biblical disparity between the violent images of God versus the nurturing images.

Flood’s proposal is to face the troubling passages honestly, openly, and as Jesus did.

But therein lies another conundrum. On the one hand, Jesus says, “I did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it” (Matt 5:17). But then he proceeds blatantly to contradict and overturn multiple passages of Scripture.

I love a good mystery; but, “Jesus, you walk so fast!”

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

Together in the Walk,
Jim




[1] Raymund Schwager, Must there Be Scapegoats?: Violence and Redemption in the Bible (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987), page 55 (italics his). Quoted in Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture, (Kindle edition, location163.)
[2] Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2006), page 51. Quoted in Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture, (Kindle edition, location236.)
[3] Bible Knowledge Commentary: Old Testament (Colorado Springs: David C. Cook, 1984) page 342. Quoted in Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture, (Kindle edition, location245.)

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Into the Wilderness

My personal Lenten journey this year leads through a wilderness I’ve known but avoided for many years. Oh, I’ve taken brief day-hikes along its fringes; but never have ventured into the heart of it, and certainly not with the intention of spending forty days there!

I have a nephew who this month embarked on an ambitious effort to spend one year trying to experience what it means truly to follow Jesus. Almost three weeks into that pilgrimage he still is struggling to identify his approach. To some extent he toys with the idea of “doing” what Jesus did. For example, he plans to gather resources to feed 5,000 people.

At another level he faces the task, not so much of doing what Jesus did, but rather of being who Jesus was (is). He has chosen a mentor for each month during the year, all of whom represent a broad diversity of theological and faith perspectives. He plans to leave no stone unturned in his quest to know what it means truly to follow Jesus.

Following Jesus is also a foundation of my Lenten Journey, although mine is limited to forty days, and has a much tighter focus. The wilderness I contemplate is the diverse, apparently contradictory images of God presented in the Christian canon of Scripture (specifically the Christian Protestant canon).

Specifically, I want to address the apparent contradiction between the New Testament image of God as “Father” (actually, Jesus called God “Abba”, which is the familiar sense, like “Daddy,” or “Papa”—a loving, nurturing being), with the Old Testament image of a vengeful, spiteful, jealous warrior God (“Lord of Hosts”) who orders genocide on many occasions.

My primary resource for the journey is Derek Flood’s book, Disarming the Bible (Metanoia Books, 2014).  Flood describes three common historic approaches to resolving the apparent contradictions in Scripture.

1.       The Conservative/Fundamentalist approach, which places a premium upon defending the integrity of Scripture, sometimes at the expense of discerning its truth. Too often the defense of Scripture, while a noble intention, ends up being a defense of one’s own understanding of a specific text, which one assumes is the correct, indeed the only true understanding. In this approach it sometimes become necessary to advocate things we know are profoundly wrong in the attempt to defend the Bible.
2.      The Atheist approach, which maintains the conservative/fundamentalist approach to Scripture, but then abandons any semblance of faith altogether in an attempt to maintain some sense of moral integrity.
3.      The Liberal approach of denying the problem and simply whitewashing over the evidence. In this approach attention is directed away from the genocidal violence in Scripture, focusing instead on the mercy and social justice found in the teachings and examples of Jesus. Flood calls this approach “Cherry-Picking”, and defines it as picking out the sweet portions of Scripture and ignoring the difficult passages that seem utterly contradictory to the Gospel.

It is my expectation and my hope that Flood will further develop and critique each of the three approaches as he makes his case.

He calls for integrity in our approach, saying, “If we as progressives are going to reject violence and instead focus on mercy and social justice, then we need to have a developed interpretive[1] rationale for our reading which can stand its ground against a conservative reading that seeks to legitimize violence in God’s name. …Rather than justifying or whitewashing over the problem of violence in Scripture, we instead need to confront it, and do so from the inside, as an expression of a healthy faith.” (Kindle edition, Location 348)

Flood’s proposed approach is to discover (or hopefully rediscover) the “radical and surprising way Jesus read (Scripture).” Of course, there was no collected and canonized “Bible” at that time. There were, however, Scriptures—Holy Writ: The Torah, which is the first five “books” of what we call the Old Testament, was available in some form (whether that form had become standardized is open to question), as were some of the prophetic and wisdom writings.

We are warned at the outset that reading the Scriptures as Jesus did will not be a self-evident effort. Indeed, the way Jesus read Scripture “scandalized the religious authorities of Jesus’ time and is likely to be seen as equally subversive and ‘blasphemous’ by the religious gatekeepers today.” (Kindle edition, Location 362)

The wilderness is always intimidating; but that’s where The Adversary[2] is. The Adversary has been having its way with God’s people, dividing them over understandings of the very writings that should be uniting us. Jesus confronted The Adversary and prevailed. Will I? Will we? Will you go with me and hold my hand?

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

Together in the Walk,
Jim



[1] Flood uses the word “hermeneutical”. It’s academic and has many facets. One can find a broad treatment of hermeneutics on “Google.”
[2] The literal translation of the word that usually is transliterated (as opposed to translated) “satan.” It carries a sense of “the attorney for the other side”.

Monday, February 2, 2015

More on Balance

A theme (some might say an obsession, given the content of my blogs!) of my faith is balance. My first student sermon in seminary compared John 3:1-18 with Matthew 25:31-46.

The former is the encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus, and includes the phrase, “You must be born again.” It also includes the best-known verse in scripture—John 3:16:For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” 

The latter is Jesus’ Parable of the Sheep and the Goats, with the familiar injunctions to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the prisons, etc. The conclusion: “As you did it(or didn’t) to the least of my brothers, you did it (or didn’t) to me.”

One is about spiritual and eternal matters, while the other is about what has been called “The Social Gospel” or issues of social justice. The point of my sermon was that the same Bible contains both emphases. To date, I have not discovered a biblical prioritizing of the two emphases. So far as I can see, we are enjoined to a balance of ministries to people’s spiritual and eternal needs as well as to their physical and immediate needs.

When asked which was the most important commandment, Jesus responded, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. 38This is the great and first commandment. 39And a second is like it, You shall love your neighbor as yourself. 40On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets” (Matthew 22:37-40 NRSV).” 

The second is “like it.” “On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets.” I don’t find any way in that text to rationalize one to the exclusion—or even to the moderating—of the other, and I’ve preached that theme several times each year since then (1969); but I think I have a new way of articulating it.

I think the greatest weakness in the community of Christian discipleship is the problem of reductionism. Even in Jesus' day there was a tendency for people of faith to reduce discipleship to a simple formula ("Which is the greatest commandment?")

“All ya’ gotta’ do is…” and then recite the list. I sometimes have called it “formulaic” Christianity or Christianity by theorem—the lowest common denominator.

I observe two specific reductions.

The first is what Jim Wallis calls an atonement-only gospel: the only purpose for Christian discipleship is to lead people to salvation—to avoid hell and attain heaven. In my estimation it is impossible to deny the New Testament premium on that kind of life and witness, which is generally called “evangelism”.

The second reduction is an ethical absolutism: the primary measure of faith is our behavior toward others. Again, there is no denying that Jesus taught an ethical paradigm few humans have attained. Too few have tried; indeed, many rationalize away the injunctions to minister to the poor (or to tend in other ways to matters of the common good) by labeling them “secular humanist” or “socialist” or “communist”.

Few teachings strive for a balance between the two reductions.

In my last blog I described a debate between Jim Wallis and his close friend, Southern Baptist seminary president, Albert Mohler. The topic was, “Is social justice an essential part of the gospel and the mission of the church?”[1] 

Wallis argued yes, justice is integral to the gospel. Dr. Mohler said no, arguing that social justice was important but that “the gospel” was the atonement brought about in Christ that saves us from our sins and secures our souls for heaven. 

I admit up front that I have no hard data to support my observation and, moreover, that I am biased toward my own reductionist tendencies. Given those qualifications, however, it seems relatively clear to me that:

1.      Those who, with Dr. Mohler, say that social justice issues are important but secondary to evangelism tend to rationalize and thus to neglect and even to oppose efforts to minister to the poor. To be fair, in my limited observation almost all who oppose ministries of social justice are really opposing government involvement in those efforts. On the other hand, the truth of the matter is that if the government doesn’t do it, who will? There certainly are not enough resources in the churches, most of which are declining and struggling to survive; and no other entity has stepped up to the plate!

2.     Those who emphasize social justice ministries tend not only to neglect evangelistic ministries but even appear condescending or even contemptuous toward those who do. To be fair, in my limited observation such opposition is not to evangelism itself but to specific strategies of evangelism (I am in that category: indeed, I find many evangelism strategies outright counterproductive to the gospel!) On the other hand, I don’t recall seeing an effective evangelistic strategy emerge from that set. I do hear considerable rationalization about quality versus quantity.

Which brings us around to the issue of balance.

I watched the “Stupor Bowl” last night (you might guess I had no pony in that race). I’m not a fan of either team; but, it was less stressful to watch without caring who won. I don’t think I yelled at the TV even once!

It occurs to me that evangelism and social justice ministries might be like offense and defense on a football team. It takes both. If a team is weak at either, it is less effective.

The hoards leaving the church, and those who never got involved, speak volumes to the ineffectiveness of an unbalanced church.

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

Together in the Walk,
Jim



[1] Wallis, Jim (2013-08-15). Who Jesus Is and Why It Matters (Ebook Shorts) (Kindle Locations 192-213). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

An Invitation to Balance

I am not a Muslim. Nor am I a Jew, a Hindu, Buddhist, Methodist, Catholic or Baptist (although I honor and cherish my Baptist background); nor am I an advocate for any of the above. I recognize that each has made positive contributions and had negative impact on human history, and I respect the right of anyone to adhere to any of them.

This writing will not argue the relative merits or weaknesses of any of the above. While I am more than willing to share my own faith perspectives with any who want to hear, I have no desire—indeed, I have no right—to inflict my perspectives on anyone who does not wish to listen.[1]

I advocate open sharing between all the above, in order to generate greater mutual understanding and appreciation, because there is much common ground among all us—common ground upon which to build a more peaceful, cooperative and enriched humanity.

But I face a wall. I've lived on the other side of the wall, so I think I understand and empathize with those who are there, and I have no wish to insist that they conform to my perspective before we proceed.

Here’s the wall: there are those who, because of their utterly sincere faith and commitment do insist that all humanity accept their confession of faith before we proceed. Nor does their faith and commitment encourage them to collaborate with those who are not under their roof.

I understand that. As I say, I’ve held the same passion as they; a passionate belief that they hold the exclusive, ultimate truth of God—which is the only path to God and to eternal salvation—and that they are responsible for proclaiming that truth until all of humanity has accepted it and has made the same affirmations they have made.

I honor that sense of commitment, nor would I ask them to cease and desist in their efforts (although I would wish them to honor the rights of those who feel violated by some of their strategies. Indeed, I find some of their strategies counterproductive to the Gospel. That’s another debate I’m willing to pursue, but in a different venue.)

Jim Wallis[2] recalls a public forum in which he debated a close friend and colleague, Southern Baptist seminary president, Dr. Albert Mohler. The topic was, “Is social justice an essential part of the gospel and the mission of the church?”[3]

Wallis argued yes, justice is integral to the gospel. Dr. Mohler said no, arguing that social justice was important but that “the gospel” was the atonement brought about in Christ that saves us from our sins and secures our souls for heaven. Wallis reports:

“It was a very civil and respectful conversation because Al and I know each other and because both of us wanted to demonstrate a kind of discourse different from what now prevails in our culture and politics. But we did disagree, and our disagreement is at the heart of very different visions today for the future of the church” (emphasis mine).
First of all, I find it refreshing and encouraging when disagreeing Christians debate with civility and respect, and remain close friends.

In this writing, let’s affirm Dr. Mohler’s stance that biblical imperatives for justice are important, but only an implication of the gospel. In practice, I have rarely seen evangelicals acknowledge social justice as important at all.

In fairness, I confess that, except for a few congregations and isolated judicatory examples, my own denomination is seriously lacking in effective evangelistic theory and practice. Actually, many of our constituents reject evangelism as valid (although, I have the sense that by evangelism they mean those counterproductive strategies to which I refer earlier).

So, here’s my question: can we overlap? Is it possible for evangelical and mainline Christians to work together on both evangelism and social justice without anyone compromising a priority?

I understand that we don’t even agree on terminology (e.g., I and most mainline Protestants don’t buy “substitutionary” atonement.) 

But, bottom line, whether atonement/justification/salvation is substitutionary or exemplary or sacramental or reconciliatory or universal, the overwhelming majority of Christians will agree that Jesus is the medium through which God extended (or at least demonstrated) that salvation, and that such extension/demonstration was an expression of pure grace.

Never mind that we won’t even agree totally on what grace is (e.g., virtually all will say it is “unmerited favor;” that it can’t be earned. But some will place prerequisites upon the reception of grace, while others will say it is given gratuitously.)

Never mind that we will never agree on all of the faith. Can we at least start to work together, just so the world can witness what a united Body of Christ looks like?

Gandhi is reported to have said, “I love your Jesus. It’s Christians that give me problems.” 

A sizeable portion of the generation called “Millennials” would agree, and are leaving the church en mass. Thomas G, Bandy calls them the fastest growing spiritual population in North America: the "spiritually yearning, institutionally disillusioned public."

Can we begin to remove that roadblock to the Gospel?

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

Together in the Walk,
Jim



[1] I do not limit this discussion to the groups named above; indeed, should I try to be all-inclusive, it would be an exercise in futility. Suffice it to say that the above constitutes a representative sampling of the human diversity that I believe enriches humanity.

[2] Wallis is a self-proclaimed evangelical; although, his social activism has resulted in his being pushed, at best, to the periphery of evangelical circles. Indeed, many evangelicals reject him as a valid Christian voice.

[3] Wallis, Jim (2013-08-15). Who Jesus Is and Why It Matters (Ebook Shorts) (Kindle Locations 192-213). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.