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.

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

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

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

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[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.

Happy Holidays!

I dug out our collection of Christmas DVDs today. I wasn’t doing it intentionally. I was just reorganizing and reclaiming our entertainment center after 19 months’ absence (during which time our son and granddaughter made good use of it). The DVDs contained Movies, TV specials, concerts, etc.

The one on top was a copy of a 1955 Jo Stafford Album. The title song, “Happy Holiday,” was Irving Berlin’s 1942 classic that everybody loves. The second DVD was the 1942 Bing Crosby/Fred Astaire movie, “Holiday Inn,” in which that Irving Berlin classic was introduced. It’s a perennial favorite, along with “It’s a Good Life!”, “Miracle of 34^th Street,” “White Christmas” and—you can finish the list.

In the same box was our collection of Christmas cards dating back who knows how long. We keep them for decorations and gift wrapping. “Season’s Greetings,” is among the most common phrases on the covers of the several dozen cards in that stack.

Call me a “Christmas Freak.” I love just about everything about it, from the first decoration I see in some store to the last ornament that's stored in the attic. In the last couple of years I’ve even been able to endure the crowds at the malls without uttering a single “Bah!” or “Humbug!”

I think I love it because in my personal history it’s always been the “Most Wonderful Time of the Year”—with cousins and “Granny” either spending the holidays with us or us with them. I associate Christmas with family, presents, wonderful food, beautiful music, beautiful decorations and the beautiful story that holds it all together.

The story is paramount. No matter what else happens or doesn't happen during Advent and the Twelve Days of Christmas that follow, I’m never distracted from the awareness of that beautiful story. It’s always with me, thanks to the foundation laid in my family—a foundation that included regular participation in the Body of Christ. No matter what symbol is displayed, or when or where, I am reminded that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, and that through that birth, “God is with us!”

Apparently—and sadly—some are unable to avoid the distractions. Take, for example, those phrases that for over a half-century—for at least six decades—elicited happy smiles, warm feelings and even hugs: “Happy Holidays!” “Seasons Greetings!” More recently they’ve become a distraction to some people.

A few years ago someone suggested that it would be more “inclusive” to use the phrase, “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”, to acknowledge that not everyone is Christian and to demonstrate respect for their religious freedom—the same respect we expect and demand for our own religious freedom.

Religious freedom, like every other freedom, must be extended to all, or no one is free, for if freedom can be taken from one, it can be taken from all. Further, religious freedom includes the freedom not to be religious at all—and to be free from having others’ religious faiths inflicted upon us.

The intention was to find ways to include people of other faiths—or at least not to exclude them—in the public celebrations of Christian holidays. Nothing has ever been intended or suggested that would limit religious celebrations shared among family and friends and within specific communities of faith.

But the good old American autonomy that built this nation raises its head (unnecessarily in this situation) and asserts, “Nobody’s gonna’ tell me what to do.”

I have not experienced the slightest infringement of any of my rights. I am perfectly free to say, “Merry Christmas” any time I choose, and as far as I know you are free to do the same. Nor do I feel anything has been forced upon me if others choose to say, “Happy Holidays” in deference to the religious freedom of those who don’t share their convictions. Indeed, I don’t feel “Happy Holidays” is a condescension at all. That phrase is a “warm fuzzy” that triggers deep nostalgia and reminds me that Jesus was born.

At what point did “inclusiveness” become bad? At what point did inclusiveness become a liberal conspiracy to take away anyone’s right to say, “Merry Christmas?” At what point did respect for someone who is different from me become a concession to some evil plot to undermine truth? And at what point did the melting pot mentality celebrated in the poem[1] engraved on the Statue of Liberty become an intolerance and disrespect for diversity?

As Christians, we are called to share the joy of our faith; but there are effective ways to share our faith, there are ineffective ways to share our faith and there are counterproductive ways to share our faith. In recent years I’ve seen too much witnessing/sharing that did more harm than good.

And as Americans we have the right to share our faith—but not to inflict it upon anyone who doesn’t want to hear it. And, after all, Christianity is an invitational faith, not a coercive one.

So, I will continue to look for opportunities to make effective witness to my faith, while making every attempt to respect the religious rights and freedoms of those who don’t share it. And if my life is being lived such that others don’t know and respect me as a Christian unless I say, “Merry Christmas,” then I have failed as a Christian and my witness will lack integrity and credibility. And I have absolutely no need to inflict my faith language upon those with other faiths or no faith, and thereby run the risk of alienating them from any possibility of witnessing effectively to them in the future.

That leaves me with more than abundant opportunity within my family, my circle of friends and within my community of faith—and in the yard decorations in front of my home—to say, “Merry Christmas!”

And 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] Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free, 
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, 
Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

~ Emma Lazarus