The Internet Monk Archives

What Am I Missing?

I should have known I was in for a rough morning when the first song of the service was U2’s “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” By the third song that was completely unsuitable for congregational singing, I was heading out the door for some coffee. But the music leader stopped me in my tracks when he said he wanted to take us through three chapters of Romans in three minutes. He took us through the law in Romans 1 and 2, and then introduced the Gospel from Romans 3. It was wonderful, a breath of fresh air sorely needed.

Then it was back to songs that were really bad poetry, songs about how I was supposed to feel about God, not about who God knows himself to be. I went and found that coffee.

Back in my seat, the pastor took off down the road of the Beatitudes. Not new material by any means, but covered with great enthusiasm. There was foot-stomping and hand-clapping and calls for audience participation (“Help me here! Are you with me? Are you smelling what I’m cooking?”) that mostly fell flat, for this was the early service, and not everyone got coffee like I did. I wasn’t quite sure about the preacher’s exegesis of the text, but he didn’t go too far afield. And he had it all packaged neatly in a PowerPoint presentation.

At the conclusion of his message, the pastor called up a visiting missionary and, with a call of us to stretch out our hands toward her, led us in a prayer for the woman who ministers in Ireland. Then we were dismissed as those arriving for the next service began making their way into the sanctuary.

A pretty typical evangelical Sunday service, at least typical of the services I have been a part of for four decades now. Yet this last Sunday I really felt like I was missing something. There was plenty there about what God would do for me and what I could do for God. But where were the songs about God’s majesty? Where was the focus on Jesus and his redemptive act on the cross? Aside from the three minute sprint through Romans, the Gospel was nowhere to be found.

Continue reading “What Am I Missing?”

iMonk: “Show Me Your Glory?”

Moses and the Burning Bush (detail), Chagall

From Michael Spencer’s classic post, Moses Wannabes

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As churches have put more and more emphasis on experience in the corporate worship setting, “glory” language became more common. Revivals are the “glory” of God descending on a church. Manifestations of the Spirit are God’s glory in the midst of his people. Intense and emotional worship experiences are glimpses of God’s glory. The Charismatic/Pentecostal side of evangelicalism is not without stories of God’s visible glory descending in a cloud during a meeting.

This hunger for a repetition of visible glory, and equating personal and corporate experiences with such glory, has made it much easier to sing about the glory of God in the way we encounter in contemporary worship music. We want to see your glory, say the songwriters. Meaning: We want to have an experience that we have labeled “the Glory of God.”

In his book, Before the Face of God, author and theologian Michael Horton demolishes the current resurgence of a gnostic “theology of glory” by reminding us that the glory of God was a traumatic, even deadly experience to sinful humans and even to God’s people. The entire Exodus and Moses narrative teaches the need for a mediator, and it is the New Testament’s affirmation that the glory of God has now come to us in the person of Christ. In fact, an even greater glory than that seen by Moses is now seen in the Gospel.

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” (II Corinthians 3:18) Here Paul is concluding a chapter that contrasts all the different kinds of visible glory in the Old Covenant with the glory of God revealed in the Gospel. When you read this chapter, you have to wonder….why are modern Christians singing about Old Covenant glory?

The reason is that they are actually singing about their own experiences. What Moses experienced has been equated with what may happen in corporate worship or in the mystical subjectivity of personal spirituality. Moses’ glimpse of glory isn’t the glory that was revealed when Jesus came to be the savior of men (John 1:14) but a glory of another kind- a far less glorious glory, because it is the glory of individual experience.

I can safely assume that Moses, given the choice of the glory of Sinai or the glory of knowing Jesus Christ, would have no trouble choosing. Certainly, Moses would never mistake the glory of any Charismatic worship service for the glory of the Son of God. The “glory” sought after in worship theatrics and music is hardly worthy of the term.

Open Mic: Losing Our Religion (2)

Yesterday, we began a few days of discussing the recent stories on NPR’s Morning Edition in the series, “Losing Our Religion.” Our first conversation was about the overall trend of a growing disconnect between younger people and religion in the U.S. More and more of them are identifying themselves as “Nones” — when asked to state their religious affiliation they say, “None.”

Today, we focus on the two reports featuring interviews with six young people who have come from different religious traditions, but are now finding it difficult to believe in God and/or practice religion. The six young people are:

Miriam Nissly, age 29, raised Jewish
Yusuf Ahmad, age 33, raised Muslim
Kyle Simpson, age 27, raised evangelical Christian
Melissa Adelman, age 30, raised Roman Catholic
Rigoberto Perez, age 30, raised Seventh Day Adventist
Lizz Reeves, age 23

You can listen to the interviews with these folks HERE and HERE. And here are the links to the transcripts so that you can read and refer to their conversation as you participate in ours:

Again, I’d like for us to start by responding to the actual interviews. If you were sitting in a group with these young people, how would you summarize what you hear them saying? What would you say to them? What questions might you ask them? What clarifications would you ask them to give? What do you take away from this conversation?

Here are a few quotes from these NPR pieces for your reference in our discussion:

“You know, I find the practice of sitting and sort of being quiet, and being alone with your thoughts, to be helpful. But I don’t think I need to answer that question [about having a belief in God] in order to participate in the traditions that I was brought up with.” (Miriam)

“Yeah. Like, I wasn’t buying it. And today, if some guy told you that, “I need to sacrifice my son because God told me to do it,” he would be locked up in – like, a crazy institution.” (Yusuf)

“I think having a God would create a meaning for our lives; like, we are working towards a purpose, and it’s all worthwhile because at the end of the day, we will maybe move on to another life, where everything is beautiful. Like, I love that idea.” (Kyle)

“I remember a theology test in eighth grade, where there was a question about homosexuality. And the right answer was that if you are homosexual, then that is not a sin because that’s how God made you. But acting upon it would be a sin. And I very clearly remember the…I vividly remember thinking to myself that that was not the right answer.” (Melissa)

“I mean, while I was younger, my father drank a lot. There was abuse in the home. My brother committed suicide in 2001. So at some point, you start to say, why does all this stuff happen to people? And if I pray and nothing good happens, is that supposed to be, I’m being tried? I find that almost – kind of cruel, in some ways. It’s like burning ants with a magnifying glass. You know, eventually, that gets just too hard to believe anymore.” (Rigoberto)

“I still feel like I would benefit from that community, and I still, I think, struggle, feeling like I cannot be a member of it. And so I think if I found a religious community that made me feel accepted for who I am, that I would be much – I’d be very open to pursuing that. And I actually have some friends who are members of a particular church who’ve been really trying to get me to go with them to this church, ’cause they keep telling me, oh, don’t worry, it’s OK, everybody, you know, that’s what’s this church is all about. And so I’m certainly open to the idea and I would like my children way down the road to also have exposure to religion and ask these questions of themselves. And I think that’s really important.” (Lizz)

“As you can hear, these young Americans are conflicted. I mean, we spoke for two hours and they talked about having this respect for religion but feeling like it’s not something they can totally identify with right now.” (Host)

iMonk: “More Religious than God Himself”

Lane at the Jardin du Luxembourg, Van Gogh

From Michael Spencer’s classic post, Wretched Urgency II: My Not So Guilty Pleasures

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C.S. Lewis, speaking as the senior devil in The Screwtape Letters, wrote about God:

He’s a hedonist at heart. All those fasts and vigils and stakes and crosses are only a facade. Or only like foam on the sea shore. Out at sea, out in His sea, there is pleasure, and more pleasure. He makes no secret of it; at His right hand are “pleasures for evermore”….He’s vulgar, Wormwood. He has a bourgeois mind. He has filled His world with pleasures. There are things for humans to do all day long without His minding in the least- sleeping, washing, eating, drinking, making love, playing, praying, working. Everything has to be twisted before it’s any us to us. We fight under cruel disadvantages. Nothing is naturally on our side.

Do we believe this? Or do we believe sleeping, washing eating, drinking, making love, playing, working and a hundred other human activities, are “wasting your life?” Do we really believe that the three years Jesus spent with his disciples was significantly different than the thirty years he spent at home? Does our understanding of human nature mean that the ministry was true humanity, but the years in the shop and being an ordinary person in Nazareth were somehow less of a God-filled-human experience?

The observant person will notice that it is not only Christians, but zealous believers of every kind, who teach that simple pleasures are somehow wrong. It is a common flaw of utopians who think that we must build heaven on earth through our own efforts or prove ourselves worthy of a heaven beyond.

…Of course, the Old Covenant vision of the Kingdom of heaven on earth is full of simple pleasures, and not only the worship services of the book of Revelation. When we read the whole Bible, we discover that “heaven” on earth includes raising animals, tending vineyards, laughter, wine and family. I do not pretend to know how this works out in history. I only know that simple pleasures are holy. The are not the enemy. They are not a waste of life. They are the gifts–even the delight–of a God who filled all of creation with simple pleasures, many of them for Himself alone.

Why are some so certain we must be more religious than God himself?

Open Mic: Losing Our Religion (1)

religion-gallup-none — Source: Gallup. Credit: Matt Stiles/NPR

NPR’s Morning Edition did a series last week called “Losing Our Religion.” I encourage you to click the link and listen to the six pieces. The first is an overview of the phenomenon portrayed in the chart above: the growth of the “nones” — the religiously unaffiliated. This trend has been observed especially among younger people.

Two of the pieces feature an interview session with six young people from different traditions who have drifted from the practices of organized religion. In one of the discussions, they talk about why they have moved away, and in the other they express some of their mixed feelings about where they are vis-à-vis faith and religious practice.

Two stories look at specific circumstances in which the nonreligious find themselves. One explores the subject of how nonbelievers cope with tragedy and grief. It also shows how, on some occasions, religion hindered rather than helped in times of deep personal pain. Another features an interview with a couple in which one person has a strong faith and the other lacks faith. How do they make their marriage work?

Morning Edition wraps up its look at the growing number of people who do not identify with a religion by talking to two religious leaders: Father Mike Surufka, a Franciscan priest in Chicago, and the Rev. Mike Baughman, a United Methodist minister who runs a Christian coffee shop in Dallas. They discuss their perspectives on what is happening in American culture, especially with regard to young people. Despite the trends, they express hope for the future of religious practice in the U.S..

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Today, we will begin discussing this NPR series. However, I don’t want to influence our discussions by writing my own response and then having us converse about that. This will be more “Open Mic” format, and I will be trusting you to do your homework so that you will be familiar with the NPR programs. I’d rather have us start fresh so that we can respond to what we hear in the voices of these young people and the others who speak in the series rather than my particular take on them.

We are going to take several days to do this. Each day, I will introduce one or two of the posts, encourage you to listen to the recorded broadcast or read the transcript, and moderate the discussion.

Here are links to the transcripts, so you can read ahead if you like:

For today, I invite you to discuss the first piece on the growth of the “nones.” Go listen to the show or read the transcript. Here are a few quotes for reference in our discussion:

“As deeply religious as this country may be, many Americans are not religious at all. One-fifth of Americans in fact do not identify with any religion. This week we’re asking who they are and what they do believe.” (Host)

“They call them nones – that’s N-O-N-E-S – because when asked to identify their religion they say none. But not necessarily atheists. Many of these people believe in God, many describe themselves as spiritual.” (D. Greene)

“Young people are not only more religiously unaffiliated than their elders, they are also more religiously unaffiliated than previous generations of young people ever have been, as far back as we can tell. So this is really something new.” (G. Smith)

“…this same younger generation is much less involved in many of the main institutions of our society than previous younger generations were.” (R. Putnam)

“And so I think the single most important reason for the rise of the nones is that combination of the younger people moving to the left on social issues and the most visible religious leaders moving to the right on that same issue.” (R. Putnam)

“As we’ve seen the religiously unaffiliated’s share of the population grow, the group that’s really seen its share of the population decline is Protestants. In fact, in our most recent analysis, we found 48 percent of American adults identifying as Protestant. And that’s the first time in our polling that we’ve seen the Protestant share of the population dip significantly below 50 percent.” (G. Smith)

“Race and ethnicity though is one exception to that pattern. The growth of the nones really does seem to be restricted to whites. We haven’t seen much growth in terms of African-Americans or Hispanics who say they’re religiously unaffiliated.” (G. Smith)

“I think probably both of us would agree even with these recent changes, the American religious commitments are incredibly stronger than in most other advanced countries in the world. The average American is slightly more religious than the average Iranian. So we’re a very religious country, even today.” (R. Putnam)

iMonk: “Where Is the Urgency?”

From Michael Spencer’s classic post, Wretched Urgency

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How about the epistles in the New Testament? In those places where Christians are addressed as Christians, where is the urgency about church growth or personal evangelism?

Yes, I know that Paul is urgent about his ministry, but I don’t find his instructions for other Christians to be entirely in the same vein. I hear Christians being told to live quiet, peaceful, honest, generous lives adorned with integrity and love. Christians are told to be devoted to their families, to love fellow believers, and to live in such a way that outsiders cannot accuse or criticize. If they suffer for being a Christian, it should not be because they provoked a response through simply living the life Jesus taught.

Again and again, I look in the epistles for the kind of Christian experience that I was taught was normal, and I do not find it. The statements of urgency are not statements telling me to turn my house and life upside down in frenetic efforts to persuade people to join my religion. The urgency in Paul comes from his personal mission and his own vocation as a church planter. I can’t automatically apply it all to everyone else.

Shouldn’t we all be like Paul? No. Not if we aren’t apostles and church planters. Paul ran all over the world telling people to believe the Gospel, love Christ and live like it. We are to go back to our homes, jobs and communities and do exactly that. Preachers and missionaries have the urgency appropriate to their calling, as anyone should have the urgency appropriate in theirs. A parent has some urgency in parenting, but it has to be measured. A businessman or a teacher has some urgency, but again, in an ordered way. Christians look at their callings, their lives, their faith and apply the appropriate amount of urgency. We are not all told to sell all we have, give it to the poor and hit the road. In fact, that could be nuts.

…Here. Quote me. There is no urgent concern for converting people in the New Testament. Did you get that down? There is also no urgent concern for the numerical growth of churches by the efforts of members to convert others. There are no burgeoning church programs. There are no plans to train everyone to door knock and sell Jesus. There is an urgent concern for doctrinal and personal Christ-likeness. There is a concern for leadership, integrity, honesty and obedience to Christ in our personal lives. The idea that we are here to “win souls” and not to know and show God is bogus.

The Past, Present, and Future of God’s People

Moses Receiving the Tablets of the Law, Chagall

“…one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.”

– Deuteronomy 8:3, NRSV

“Apart from the liturgy, Deuteronomy is the source of the idea that religious life should be based on a sacred book, and hence of the obligation of all Jews, not only an elite class, to learn the Torah and teach it to their children (5:1; 6:7).”

– Jeffrey Tigay
Deuteronomy (JPS Torah Commentary)

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Few books of the Bible are more significant than Deuteronomy, the book that completes the Torah. It is the full statement of First Testament religion in sermon form. Its contents reflect back on Israel’s formative events. They also anticipate Israel’s life in the Promised Land and subsequent exile, and point to the restoration of her blessing in “the latter days.”

Its various titles tell its story. This is “the book of words” (its Hebrew title) that exalts the Word of God and led to Israel becoming a people of the book. Deuteronomy is “the book of instruction” (a traditional Jewish designation) that highlights its use as a book that urges and gives rationale and motivation for a life of obedience to God’s teaching. The title we know sets this book forth as “the second law” — the commandments and regulations of Sinai presented in new forms for new generations. This fact reminds us that Israel’s “law” was not a static, unchanging thing, but a matter of continual reinterpretation and application within the context of a living, evolving community. One can see this even in Deuteronomy’s presentation of the Ten Commandments, which differ from the version recorded in Exodus.

The understandings to which scholars have come of the composition and development of Deuteronomy are fascinating. In the classic critical perspective, the book is largely the product of the “Deuteronomist” school, but there have been a variety of efforts to identify who and what that school represented.

Traditionally, Deuteronomy has been linked to the scroll Hilkiah found in the temple during the days of Josiah (2Kings 22), which led to his reforms. Similarities between the book and passages in Hosea, as well as its general “de-sacralization” of worship and heightened concern for justice for the oppressed have led many to think that parts of Deuteronomy were produced or shaped by prophetic groups in the days of Assyria. In this regard, one might also note the influence Deuteronomy had on the book of Jeremiah. Others have posited participation by Levitical and priestly groups in shaping parts of the book, perhaps at earlier stages of composition because of the inclusion of older ritual and legal materials in the book. Finally, the book exhibits the characteristics of later Wisdom literature, and may have been influenced and edited by later scribes. “These three major proposals have arisen because each reflects some dimension of the book” (Patrick Miller).

Continue reading “The Past, Present, and Future of God’s People”

iMonk: “Marriage = Running Wounded”

From Michael Spencer’s classic post, On Running Wounded

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Ask anyone who is married. We really are running wounded, and sometimes nothing seems more ridiculous than the proposition that we can really bring about more good than harm, or experience more love than suffering in this vulnerable relation called marriage. The reality is written in marriages every day. We celebrate their inauguration, milestones and perseverance, but who has not marveled, as you sat at an anniversary gathering, what it took to get there? What terrible price was paid to stay together? I’ve watched a spouse walk out of a hospital room after seeing their partner of fifty plus years pass on, and I wondered, how could they find the love and grace to make it this far?

We just seem too wounded for such a long run.

I’m not a pessimist about marriage in particular. I am a Biblical realist about human nature. C.S. Lewis said the story of history was like a machine built to run on one kind of fuel, but forced to use another. It runs, maybe even well, for a while. Then, it “conks.” So the highest human aspirations to love, selflessness and faithfulness seem to run well for a while, then sputter and conk. In some cases, the marriage ends, in other cases it survives in a sort of cold truce. In some instances it evolves into something truly terrible, wreaking havoc and harvesting pain for generations.

And yet, despite our fallenness, smallness, arrogance and stupidity, there are marriages that truly resemble the glory that must have existed between Adam and Eve. There are, in most marriages, glimpses of heaven, hell, and both sides of Eden. In some marriages, the glimpses of Eden prevail, and become constant. In some marriages, there is even a taste of heaven on earth in the love between two people. Scripture seems to echo this, even as it describes in many places the display of human wretchedness that marriage can become. It is far more optimistic than Genesis 3 would lead you to believe.

25 Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, 27 so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. Ephesians 5:25-27

The Catechism of the Catholic church says that marriage persists, though seriously “disturbed.” O how much lies in a single word! The Catechism also says what anyone knows: Marriage, if it is to succeed, needs God’s help.

We Are Far Too Easily Pleased

The Wedding Feast at Cana, Schnorr von Carolsfeld

Second Sunday after Epiphany
John 2:1-11

I used to not like weddings very much. They seemed like a lot of trouble, and people tended to overdo them. When we had children at home and lots of things on our plate, it seems that weddings always interrupted other plans and caused upheaval in our routine. Plus, they usually took place on Saturdays, and, as a pastor, Sundays were packed, so I was preoccupied and unable to just take part and enjoy. Sure, we were happy for the couple and their family, but we were also glad when the whole affair was over.

Now I love weddings. First of all, since I work for hospice and am on hand for so many sad occasions, it is a nice change of pace to participate in an event that is all about life and love and joy. Second, I don’t have as many Sunday responsibilities these days, so my mind is freer and more able to focus on the fun and celebration. Third, many of the couples whose weddings we attend are in some way connected to our children, so we are able to rejoice with our friends in the coming of age of a new generation of families.

Being outside of our former pietistic evangelical circles also enables me to enjoy the wine more freely. And the dancing. And many other celebratory aspects not always included in the wedding parties of the moralists.

I remember watching “Fiddler on the Roof” when I was a young man and being befuddled by the total abandonment to celebration pictured in the wedding scenes. What a killjoy I was! I wouldn’t have known a good time if it had bitten me on the tukhus.

And along comes Jesus in John 2:1-11, providing wine at a wedding — the very best wine, in large quantities, after all the other wine has already been consumed — as a sign of who he is and what he has come to do. Taking the stone water pots that were sanctified for the somber religious purposes of purification, he had filled them to the brim and then transformed their contents into the finest of alcoholic beverages — for the pure enjoyment of the people who were gathered there.

The result? A sign — a sign of the Kingdom. Glory — the glory of God. And where was God’s blessing seen and experienced? In glasses raised and toasts proclaimed! In whirling dances! In laughter and light-hearted banter! In joy and celebration!

Don’t imagine God is pleased with your sacrifices. Don’t believe he delights in your strenuous efforts at holiness, your morbid introspection, your sober demeanor and serious attitude. Don’t think for a minute that he wants you to rein in your passions and turn your back on pleasure. No! No! A thousand times no! Not for nothing does the psalmist say to God, “In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures for evermore.” (Ps. 16:11)

As C.S. Lewis reminded us:

If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

L’chaim! Now and evermore.

Amen.

iMonk: “I Have My Doubts”

Landscape with Snow, Van Gogh — Landscape with Snow (detail), Van Gogh

From Michael Spencer’s classic post, I Have My Doubts

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I have my doubts. About it all. God. Jesus. Life after death. Heaven. The Bible. Prayer. Miracles. Morality. Everything.

“But you are a pastor. A Christian leader.” That’s right, and I am an encyclopedia of doubts. Sometimes it scares me to death.

I’m terrified by the possibility that I might have wasted my entire life on the proposition that Christianity was true, when in fact it wasn’t even close. I wonder if I have been mentally honest with myself or with others, or have I compromised my own integrity in order to collect a paycheck and have a roof over my head? Have I acted as if the case for faith was clear when it was a muddled mess in my own mind?

What’s really frightening is that these doubts persist and get stronger the longer I live. They aren’t childish doubts; they are serious, grown-up fears. I don’t have the kind of faith that looks forward to death. The prospect terrifies me, sometimes to the point I am afraid to close my eyes at night. I have more questions about the Bible and Christianity than ever, even as I am more skilled at giving answers to the questions of others. I can proclaim the truth with zeal and fervor, but I can be riddled with doubts at the same time.

When I meet Christians whose Christian experience is apparently so full of divine revelation and miraculous evidence that they are beyond doubts, I am tempted to either resent them or conclude that they are fakes or simpletons. The power of self-delusion in the face of a Godless, meaningless life is undeniable. If there is no God, can I really blame someone for “taking the pill” to remain in his unquestioning certainties?

There is sometimes nothing worse than being able to comprehend both all my doubts and all the accepted, expected answers. It tears at the soul, and declares war on the mind. I feel remarkably alone in my moments of doubt, and wonder, “Do other Christians feel this yawning abyss of doubt, or am I just a bad Christian?”

My doubts are bad enough that I have to make frequent daily reexamination of the very basics of my own faith. These aren’t matters that were resolved in a conversation somewhere back in college and have never visited me again. Oh, no. Almost daily I travel back down some of these well-worn paths. Walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Doubt has given me many opportunities to ask myself why I am a Christian, and to appreciate those who chose not to believe.

These doubts have made me respect my honest, unbelieving friends. To many of them, it isn’t so much the content of Christianity that is ridiculous. It’s the idea that Christians are so certain; so doubtless. They find it untenable that anyone could bury their own doubts so deep that you are as certain as Christians appear to be. Our television and radio preachers, our musicians and booksellers, the glowing testimonial at church, the zealous fanatic at the break table at work–they all say that Christians no longer have the doubts and questions of other people. Only certainties. And for many thoughtful unbelievers, that appears to be lying or delusion, and they would prefer to avoid both.

So do I. I profoundly dislike the unspoken requirement among Christians that we either bury all our doubts out in back of the church, or we restrict them to a list of specific religious questions that can be handled in polite conversations dispensing tidy, palatable answers. Mega-doubts. Nightmarish doubts. “I’m wasting my whole life” doubts are signs one may not be a Christian, and you’ve just made it to the prayer list.