The Internet Monk Archives

When Asking a Question Is Itself a Problem

Here is an exceedingly wise word from Samantha Field, in an interview she gave at the her.meneutics blog called, “Finding Faith after Spiritual Indoctrination.”

I recommend the entire article. However, this part is essential reading, and I pull it out for our consideration and discussion today.

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Spiritual abuse is so much more common than many people think. It exists in so many forms, and it is incredibly easy to miss. And it happens where people are honestly trying to do the right thing, to follow Christ, to pursue godliness.

It also happens when people stop asking why. Being handed a list of “this is what you should believe” is so very easy, especially when that list is handed to you by someone you respect. But when we stop asking questions, when we even begin to accept that asking questions is in itself a problem, that’s when we can surrender our faith into the hands of someone who could misuse it.

Many times when I explain my religious environment, the focus is the legalism, when legalism isn’t really the problem. It’s the power and control that legalism places in the hands of a select few. Fundamentalism, in my experience, frequently results in the congregation surrendering control over almost every area of their lives to their pastor. In a strange twist, while fundamentalists preach in the complete “sufficiency of Scripture,” in reality they practice whatever their pastor hands down from the pulpit.

I also find it troubling that in discussions about faith, we seem to confuse “having faith” with “being certain.” I’m no longer comfortable with feeling certain about anything; certainty, I’ve found, is dangerous territory. It also bothers me when we frequently resort to statements like “the Bible is very clear on this issue,” or that a specific interpretation of a passage is “plain” or “obvious.” This type of language seems almost designed to shut down conversation, or to dismiss the speaker’s opposition.

I think it’s important for us to stay receptive to new and challenging ideas. To honestly engage with a concept we don’t agree with, and see where it takes us. Instead of digging in even deeper when our faith system gets confronted, if we took a second to empathetically understand their perspective, we could have a change of heart and a change of mind. Being able to do this, I’m realizing, is much easier said than done. Most of the time when I’m challenged, I instantaneously start mounting a defense. It takes me a while to realize that instinctually defending your own idea almost automatically means you’re not really listening to– or trying to understand– another.

David Fitch Recommends Taking “No Position” on LGBTQ Relations

Introduction from CM
A couple of pastors I admire in my denomination have impressed me with how they have responded as church leaders in light of the ELCA’s decision regarding homosexuality in 2009. This is going to sound counter-intuitive, but they both basically decided to ignore it. They did not make a big deal about the matter in their respective congregations, did not preach about it, did not hold special meetings to discuss it. In personal encounters and official meetings, they downplayed its impact on the church, and tried their best to go on preaching Christ, leading worship, visiting with people, providing personal guidance to their people, business as usual.

What is interesting is that one of these pastors was in favor of the decision, the other opposed to it, but both determined, pastorally, that they would not allow an emphasis on this to harm their flocks. In contrast, at least in this region where I live, ministers who raised the issue to a prominent level of public debate saw troubling consequences: church splits, departures from the denomination, broken relationships and painful schisms.

Were the pastors who downplayed the matter copping out? Or showing pastoral wisdom?

I found the following article from David Fitch arguing for the latter and giving good reasons why churches should try a different approach in dealing with people who are participating in the alternative sexual mores and practices of our culture. As you will see, David’s suggestions reflect both his Anabaptist theology and his heart for the church to be engaged in vital, Christ-centered mission to a post-Christendom world.

David is B. R. Lindner Chair of Evangelical Theology at Northern Seminary in Lombard, Illinois. He is also the founding pastor of Life on the Vine Christian Community– a missional church in Chicago’s northwest suburbs. He blogs at Reclaiming the Mission. Thanks to David for allowing us to re-post this piece.

* * *

One of the best discussions I’ve had in a long time happened on Facebook over the weekend. It was a discussion about the “dreaded” issue of Christianity: the church and LGBTQ sexual relations. The discussion started with my statement which was something like:

To the question “what is your position on LGBTQ?” I think the best answer (in these times) is “we have no position.” The question itself misses the point of any other answer.

To which I got good fruitful pushback from all sides. I was “abnegating!” I was doing the equivalent of “standing aside and being silent during the civil rights movement.” “There is no neutral on this!” some said.

From this discussion, I came away with four points that need clarifying as to how/why someone would say “we have no position.” To me these four points push us as Christians (no matter what sexual issues we are involved in at this time) towards a new posture toward alternative sexualities that opens doors for mission and God’s Kingdom to break in.

Read and then tell me what you think.

1) To declare a “position” (publicly) forecloses the most important decision.

By taking a non-position in this question, we are not merely feigning neutrality. We are refusing to either single out a particular person’s sexual brokenness as an issue above others, or act like there is no sexual brokenness at all in any of us. In effect, we are rejecting what “taking a position” does. Instead, our position is that we ALL are in some way or another sexually broken and moving toward maturity in Christ and this means that we all submit our brokenness to the healing and reconciling work of Christ in the context of Christian community.

When we take “positions,” we buy into anti-relational conceptualizing distancing dynamics which thwart God’s Kingdom. By refusing to make an apriori judgment against anyone, we are in essence saying the only prejudgment is that we are all sexually broken and we come seeking redemption. And if you are sexually whole and have no need for redemption, you are blessed. But we, who are broken, come relationally as real people in real situations to submit together to what God is doing in and among us.

This to me is the opening of space for God’s Kingdom to break in on any issue.

Continue reading “David Fitch Recommends Taking “No Position” on LGBTQ Relations”

Marcus Felde: Alfa Church? Bravo Church? Charlie Church!

NOTE: The first time I met with the pastor with whom I’m working now, he shared some thoughts that I found extraordinarily wise and helpful. I asked if he would consider putting them in post form so I could share them with you, and he graciously agreed.

Rev. Marcus Felde is the pastor of Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Indianapolis. In him, I have found a kindred spirit and a good example as I seek to learn the ropes regarding pastoral ministry in the ELCA. Please welcome him and consider what he has to say as he draws an analogy between two groups Paul dealt with as an apostle, two strong points of view in the Church today, and the third way Paul recommended.

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Desiring that the church should be one as it was created to be, I think it necessary to understand how and why we are divided. Can we find a clue in words of the apostle Paul? In his injunction to a divided Corinthian church did he anticipate the fractured state of today’s church?

In 1 Corinthians 1 Paul identifies three flavors of preaching: “signs” (also referred to as “power”); “wisdom”; and Christ crucified. Two are popular among elements of the church, but he finds them wanting. The third he identifies as the true proclamation of the church. The church is dividing into groups which rally around the proclamations they prefer:

For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

To make use of this passage, let us strip out the generalizations about “Jews” and “Greeks,” except to note that he is not prejudiced against either. He loves them all. Taken together, they represent all the Christians Paul knew. “You’re both wrong,” Paul is saying to the whole congregation. He could see where they were all “coming from”; but they all needed to get somewhere else, if the church was to be one. Each “side” needed to surrender its preference in favor of the true proclamation of the Gospel, “Christ crucified.”

Let me rewrite the passage without its cultural observation:

For some people demand signs and others desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to the former and foolishness to the latter, but to those who are the called, of either sort, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

Is that not just as true today? Don’t some people crave proofs of authority, while others prefer to be led by reason? Don’t people bring into the church their preconceived notions of what would constitute really good news? Isn’t the pen mightier than the sword in some circles? But isn’t it the other way ’round for other people?

If Paul were a graduate student in the sociology of religion today, he might develop his simple observation into a full-blown typology of the church. He might say that the church seems to be divided into two sides, each of which accentuates one of the selfsame errors he pointed out to Corinthian believers. Lo! Some crowd around preachers who threaten and cajole them with the power of God, while across town other Christians are listening eagerly to leaders who teach the wisdom of love. Meanwhile, the proclamation of Christ crucified is shunted to the sidelines.

Continue reading “Marcus Felde: Alfa Church? Bravo Church? Charlie Church!”

Frederica Mathewes-Green on the Orthodox View of Sin

I saw this on Frederica Mathewes-Green’s Facebook page yesterday and thought it worthy of our consideration and discussion:

The Orthodox view of sin is as an infection that pervades Creation and causes suffering for all (rather than bad deeds that demand punishment). It’s a new idea and hard to grasp, for converts. But one of its implications has to do with the suffering of the innocent; there is suffering because you and I sin, and contribute to the dis-ease of this life, and empower the evil one who hates humanity. The question of “why does God permit suffering” gets turned around. God became man to put an end to sin, but we keep returning to it voluntarily. Of course the evil one is going to go after the innocent in particular, because added to that suffering is the pain onlookers feel. Why do the innocent suffer? Because I gossip and eat too much.

Here’s an illustrative quote I received today in an email from Met. Ephraim of Boston (HOCNA):

Elder Joseph the Cave-dweller (†1959): “Why does the dog bark at us? It barks, because it is telling us, ‘On account of your sins, I also suffer illness and die.’”

Sundays in Easter: Not What You Might Expect

Not What You Might Expect
A Series for Sundays in Eastertide

God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

– Ephesians 1:20-23, NRSV

The strife is o’er, the battle done;
now is the victor’s triumph won!
Now be the song of praise begun.
Alleluia!

– Symphonia Sirenum Selectarum, tr. Potts

* * *

On Easter Sunday, we sing glad songs of victory. Martial images fill our hymns and the texts we read. Christ has triumphed! The enemy has been conquered! God has displayed his mighty power! Heaven and earth has been shaken! The powers of sin, death, and hell have been cast down and destroyed! Let the trumpets resound! Let choir and congregation shout alleluia! Christ has been declared the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead and is Lord of all (Romans 1:4)!

And yet the stories of Easter and the appearances of the risen Christ are so quiet. So behind the scenes. So personal. So hidden. So subtle. So unspectacular. So unlike anything that looks or might be construed as a powerful, earth-shaking “victory” over the great powers of the cosmos.

It is an empty place in early morning darkness.

It is a man speaking a woman’s name in a garden.

It is a stranger drawing near as two men walk along a road.

It is a guest at table eating a piece of fish.

It is person who stands on a mountain while those who see him both worship and doubt.

It is an onlooker at the beach who cooks breakfast and invites others to join him.

It is a friend who speaks, listens, and forgives.

We celebrate Easter with loud, triumphant songs, bright colors, and festive liturgies because its ultimate meaning has become clear to us through the testimony of Scripture and the creedal confession of the Church. However, on that first Easter and throughout the subsequent fifty days, this meaning was not at all clear, an obvious truth that could be grasped immediately. The original Eastertide was a quiet, rather ambiguous season in which Jesus made himself known as the risen Lord in unexpectedly restrained and unassuming ways.

What can we learn from this?

We will talk about several of these post-resurrection accounts on Sundays during this Eastertide season and try to discover some answers to that question. What are your first thoughts?

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Artwork Link: Jeremy Sams Art and Murals

iMonk: Hunger and Thirst after [Christ’s] Righteousness

A classic Michael Spencer post from April, 2007

And that’s about it, friends. Be glad in God! I don’t mind repeating what I have written in earlier letters, and I hope you don’t mind hearing it again. Better safe than sorry — so here goes. Steer clear of the barking dogs, those religious busybodies, all bark and no bite. All they’re interested in is appearances — knife-happy circumcisers, I call them. The real believers are the ones the Spirit of God leads to work away at this ministry, filling the air with Christ’s praise as we do it. We couldn’t carry this off by our own efforts, and we know it — even though we can list what many might think are impressive credentials. You know my pedigree: a legitimate birth, circumcised on the eighth day; an Israelite from the elite tribe of Benjamin; a strict and devout adherent to God’s law; a fiery defender of the purity of my religion, even to the point of persecuting the church; a meticulous observer of everything set down in God’s law Book. The very credentials these people are waving around as something special, I’m tearing up and throwing out with the trash — along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ. Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant — dog dung. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him. I didn’t want some petty, inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ — God’s righteousness.

– Philippians 3:1-9 (MSG)

Christ’s righteousness.

That’s an important phrase in Christianity. Christ’s righteousness is the gift of righteousness that makes everything in salvation possible. Receiving the righteousness of Christ is the heart of the Gospel.

Our righteousness.

That’s another important part of the Christian message. God requires righteousness, and he commands it many different ways. He describes his people as righteous and he describes many characters in the Bible as righteous.

We know that our righteousness is not perfect. In fact, in comparison to God’s righteous nature and requirement, our righteousness is trash.

When Christ’s righteousness is credited to us, we are righteous in the Father’s sight. Everything about us may be less than perfectly righteous, but Christ’s righteousness is always acceptable and sufficient.

The gift of Christ’s righteousness, credited to me in the Gospel, is the lifeblood of the Christian life. I depend on it every moment of my existence. When I am at my best and when I have failed at my worst. From first breath to last gasp.

If the righteousness of Christ is so important, why are Christians always finding ways to create their own righteousness?

“What?”

Continue reading “iMonk: Hunger and Thirst after [Christ’s] Righteousness”

Saturday Ramblings 4.6.13

Greetings and salutations one and all. It is once again that time of week where we survey the mess we’ve made in the iMonastery, grab a broom, and get to work cleaning up. The nice thing (for you, anyway) is that we do all of the sweeping. All you have to do is lift your feet off the floor so we can get the broom under you. If you get whacked in the backside with the broom on occasion, it’s not intentional. Well, it’s probably not intentional. Ok, it is. But c’mon. You gotta allow us a little fun now and then. Shall we ramble?

Oklahoma, where I live, is a unique state, to say the least. We have many state symbols, including six different state songs, a state meal (fried okra, squash, cornbread, barbecue pork, biscuits, sausage and gravy, grits, corn, strawberries, chicken fried steak, pecan pie, and black-eyed peas), and a state dirt (really). But North Carolina is pushing to have its own state religion, and thus become exempt from any federal law or regulation that violates that religion. Think it will fly?

Well, anything can happen in a country where 13% of the population believes its president is the anti-Christ. And Macca is dead, isn’t he? I mean, there were all those clues on the Beatles’ albums …

That school in southern Ohio that has had a portrait of Jesus hanging in its hallway since 1947, and vowed to keep it up despite recent protests, has decided to take it down. Legal fees, you know …

And for those who think the taking down of this picture constitutes persecution, Jonathan Merritt wants to put things in perspective for you.

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings 4.6.13”

A Friend Who Saved My Life

On August 26, 2008, at twenty four minutes past midnight, I left my first comment on a fascinating blog I had started reading called, “Internet Monk.” An article with the intriguing title “Wretched Urgency” had been re-posted, and I found it compelling. Here was my response to the post’s author, Michael Spencer:

You tell the truth.

The main problem with the evangelical church (Baptist and otherwise) is that it has taken believers out of real life where they might follow Christ in truly renewed human lives and relationships. Instead, it has substituted its own manufactured programs and methods, covering them with a pseudo-Biblical veneer to justify them. And we’ve been doing it for so long, that most of us actually think it’s the real thing.

I’m with you. It’s not.

When I hit “enter” on that early morning five years ago and left my comment for the Internet Monk, a wind blew across the sands of the wilderness in which I was wandering, and I began to spy the vague markings of a path toward home. In other words this blogger, Michael Spencer, emerged as an important person who was to play an integral part in the saving of my life.

This post is not about me, but about Michael, so I won’t bore you with the details of my journey, except to express my gratitude for God’s providential guidance in allowing me to know Michael and benefit from his friendship and ministry. His bio describes him like this:

Michael was a libertarian-leaning conservative politically and an adventurous pilgrim theologically. He owed much to Baptists, the Apostles’ Creed, Raymond Brown, Ed Beavins, Eugene Peterson, Paul Zahl, Robert Capon, C.S. Lewis, the Gospel of Mark, Michael Horton, N.T. Wright, Shakespeare, his dad, several pastors and always Martin Luther.

Sadly, Michael died three years ago today in his home surrounded by his family, on Easter Monday, the opening day of baseball season, and far too soon for all who knew and loved him. On that day, having been asked by Michael to continue the work of the blog, I wrote the following on Internet Monk:

With them, we mourn his passing.

With them, our tears fall.

With them, we express gratitude that Michael is at peace and no longer suffering.

With them, we cry out to God in pain because our suffering has just increased.

With them and with all creation, we groan, awaiting the day when this sad world will be put to rights.

With them and with all the saints, we put our trust in Christ alone, crucified, buried, risen, ascended, and coming again.

We continue to mourn. We continue to pray for comfort and strength for his dearest, Denise, and his children Noel (with her husband Ryan) and Clay, and his grandson Silas.

We continue to put our hope in the One in whose presence Michael rests.

* * *

I encourage you to read Noel’s thoughts about her dad’s passing: “Reflections on April 4 Evening.”

I also encourage you to take some time today, as you have it, to peruse the Archives and read some of Michael’s extraordinary writing.

There will only ever be one Internet Monk.

The Abbey And Finding Our Peace Upstairs Or Down

But who are you, O man, to talk back to God?

“Shall what is formed say to him who formed it,

‘Why did you make me like this?’

Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump

of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?”

—Romans 9:20, 21

(with references to Isaiah 53,3,4; John 2:1-11;

Philippians 2:5-8; John 4:34)

I’d spent the day with one of my daughters in the hills of Brown County picking a cake, flowers and tasting food at a rustic inn where she is planning a small wedding a few months from now. We drove back to my house in heavy snow dodging slidden vehicles and she wisely opted to spend the night instead of risking fifty miles further to her home.

Finally snug from the storm, my daughter consented to watch the very first episode of Downton Abbey with me. I’d already watched through all three seasons badgering another daughter who still lives at home to be a viewing companion, but it had been to no avail. Now I had a potential convert in my clutches and I was a happy woman. But I guess the day had worn me out and I promptly fell asleep.

I awoke during episode four. It was late and I supposed my daughter was asleep on the sofa. “Do you want to stop this and go to bed?”

She was not asleep. “No, Momma. This is like crack!” (For the record, my daughter has no personal knowledge of the addictive effects of crack. She was only making an analogy in her typical high-drama fashion.) I got my second wind and we made it through all seven episodes ending our marathon at 2:30 in the blessed a.m. And we both made it to work a few short hours later.

Continue reading “The Abbey And Finding Our Peace Upstairs Or Down”

Is Jeff Cook on to something here?

I read a thoroughly thought-provoking post by Jeff Cook over at Jesus Creed today.

He suggests (though he is not yet at the point of conviction about this) that the inclusion of Gentiles and the way that happened in the early church might provide guidance for the Church today with regard to our homosexual sisters and brothers.

He writes about certain lessons he has learned from having fellowship with two lesbian women in his congregation. It is the final lesson he writes about that got my attention. I’ll share his words and then we can talk about it.

A final lesson has been about God’s priorities. One of the lesbian women who now serves in our church had a dramatic conversion experience and life change that was unlike anything I have seen before. I cannot think of anyone else who, after encountering Christ, changed so many of her habits, pursuits, and priorities. She is a radically different person and her transformation was unmistakably the work of God’s Spirit. But apparently the Holy Spirit is not interested in transforming her sexuality yet, and I find that worthy of note.

Why would God refrain? According to most of Christian culture her sexuality ought to have been the Spirit’s first target for conviction and repair, but her experience was not unique. I hear from those in other churches that gay men and women coming to faith and clearly stepping into a life of discipleship and sanctification are likewise not experiencing God transforming their sexual preferences. So how should we read this?

In the early church, the Jewish Christians became convinced that God desired to save Gentiles through faith in Christ alone, because they saw the Holy Spirit at work in the lives of the Gentiles. The common understanding of conversion in the first century was that one needed to physically change—to be circumcised and give up certain foods in order to be acceptable to God. But the early church shifted its perception of this entire group of people, not because of the Bible (the Bible was clear that all males needed to be circumcised and eating shellfish was a no-no), but because they saw the work of the Holy Spirit bursting forth from the lives of these Gentile believers.

After seeing the Spirit’s work, they changed the rules of inclusion.

I do not have a clear conviction from Christ on this point, but I wonder if that same lesson is being offered to the American Church, who so clearly sees the Holy Spirit alive and awake in some of our gay friends. I wonder if empirically we might make the same move as the first Christians who disregarded the many verses on circumcision and food laws, disregarded traditional mores, and embraced the present activity of God’s Spirit in their midst as authoritative.

I think if we did, we would not only begin to see God in new ways, we might gain many new sisters, many new brothers—just as the early church did.

Is Jeff Cook on to something here?