I very much appreciate the tone and intent of this conversation. It seems like we are looking for ways to be inclusive, while at the same time wanting to draw a line between who's in and who's out. We want to know what it means to belong, and we want to be somewhat clear about some sort of communal identity.
Dan, you mentioned pharisaism. What came to my mind is the line: "Thank you, God, that you did not make me like so-and-so". There's that line again. In Jesus' story such line-thinking was juxtaposed with a posture held by all who realize their position vis-a-vis Creator-God: "Have mercy on me, a sinner. I am not worthy to be in your presence".
What if it is not so much about what we know, but about that we are known?
What if it is not so much about "we hold these truths", as it is about that we are held in the palm of the hand of a loving God.
What if it is more important to love than to be right?
What if God were very pleased that we worship Him for graciously providing for our every need, and invite others to worship Him with us, and not quite so pleased when we worship Him for making us "distinctly Reformed"?
When it comes to who's in versus who's out thinking I agree with Richard Rohr, who says that the church's preoccupation with membership may well have been its greatest failure.
What if all of us concentrated on informing the world that all are in: God loves all. God's grace is extended to all. Jesus died for all. God's providence holds all. Come, believe, participate, connect, grow, love, serve.
What if the only really significant line is the line between those whose eyes have been opened by the Spirit of God to the reality of God's love, and those who are still in the dark? And what if our only responsibility as a church is to live with our eyes wide open, loving, praising and worshiping God in everything we do, and let the Holy Spirit worry about opening more eyes?
What if we could appreciate any and all differences among denominations, worship styles, emphases, as simply different ways in which different communities respond to God with their newly opened eyes?
I appreciate your concern about the seeming decline in "deep thinking". But I also noted with interest that you find it scary when you run into people who are able to hold two opposing views at the same time. Is it possible that by standing firmly in our confessional tradition we are often more inclined to provide the "right answers" than to ask the right questions? (I think that it what John Suk is trying to get at in "Not Sure") A wise mentor of mine, Fr. Richard Rohr said this in his daily blog today, under the title "Paradox": "I don’t think the important thing is to be certain about answers nearly as much as being serious about the questions. When we hold spiritual questions, we meet and reckon with our contradictions, with our own dilemmas; and we invariably arrive at a turning point where we either evade God or meet God. Mere answers close down the necessary struggle too quickly, too glibly, and too easily. When we hang on the horns of dilemmas with Christ—between perfect consistency and necessary contradictions—we find ourself in the unique place I call “liminal space.” Reality has a cruciform shape to it then—and we are taught best at the intersection of order and disorder, where God alone can make sense out of the situation and we must surrender. All real transformation of persons takes place when we’re inside of such liminal space—with plenty of questions that are open to God and grace and growth." Is this at all relevant to your concern about the decline of "deep thinking"?
I ordered the book. It sounds interesting. But already I wonder how much church member dissatisfaction is associated with a sense of powerlessness vs other groups or leaders in the church. Is it possible that we are really talking about the relative health of our congregations? My own tentative vision of a healthy church leaves room for a great deal more diversity of perspective than is common in many of our churches. A lot more opportunity for open communication, appreciation for the holy mosaic of God's people with all their many different experiences and ideas. Are there ways to measure church health? Are there ways to help people feel more empowered without undermining community allegiance to our Lord? Could a classis help make that happen, or would the involvement of classis merely shift the power from one segment of the community to another? Yes, I will be back after I read the Fly book. This could turn into a great discussion! Thanks for starting it!
Yes, elders play a role in encouraging quality preaching, and yes, it would help if the congregation could differentiate a good sermon from a bad one, and yes it would be great if additional resources would be available as part of seminary preparation for preaching ministry, but none of it would accomplish much without the preacher being willing and able to receive and utilize constructive criticism. Way too many preachers are too insecure to listen to, let alone respond to, evaluative statements, whether they come from supervising elders, knowledgeable peers, or average listeners. As preachers, we often have way too much emotional investment in our sermon construction to allow others to comment on possible weaknesses. Perhaps the best way elders can help improve sermon quality is to suggest their pastor become a member of a small, safe, group of peers with whom to compare notes on a regular basis. (see Eugene Peterson, The Pastor, especially chapter 18 The Company of Pastors)http://www.amazon.com/The-Pastor-Eugene-H-Peterson/dp/0061988200/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1340761659&sr=1-1&keywords=the+pastor+eugene+peterson
Discerning post. Thank you for sending that email. I am sure it led to considerable discussion at your students' dinner table that evening.
With my own children already grown and on their own, I nevertheless tried to imagine myself having that conversation around our dinner table. But in my imagination the tension point was not about where to draw the line, but about how to draw the line.
The easy part is to say: "If you feel led by God to go there, go there. If not, don't go there."
The hard part comes after you have decided not to go there, and someone asks: "Why would you not go there?" Again, the easy answer would be: "I did not feel led by God to go there". And it might even be true. Let's assume it is.
But then I imagined the next question: "What's so bad about those people that God would not want you to go there? Are those people beyond redemption? Does God not love those people? Are we too good to be around those people? Is that situation too dangerous for God to protect us?"
And then I imagined the conversation to quickly turn into a cesspool of comparing .. and judging ... and assuming ..... and labeling ......, and diminishing .......... and belittling ............ and disrespecting.............. and generalizing ................ and pretty soon we are all praying: "thank you Lord that you did not make me like so-and-so..." and asking God to "...please, protect us from the likes of so-and-so."
And pretty soon it is us, "the holy ones" vs "them", the evil ones. And if part of our calling is to fight evil, we may as well start by fighting "them", those wicked servants of the devil.
And one step further down the road, I hear myself urging my kids to vote Conservative, because, surely, we don't want to engage those infidels without adequate weapons to take them out.......
And then I imagined hearing God speaking through my kids, around the table, when they say: "Don't go there, Dad"
Yes, we need to have those conversations around the dinner table.
Posted in: Embracing Purposefully Vague Theology & Doctrine
I very much appreciate the tone and intent of this conversation. It seems like we are looking for ways to be inclusive, while at the same time wanting to draw a line between who's in and who's out. We want to know what it means to belong, and we want to be somewhat clear about some sort of communal identity.
Dan, you mentioned pharisaism. What came to my mind is the line: "Thank you, God, that you did not make me like so-and-so". There's that line again. In Jesus' story such line-thinking was juxtaposed with a posture held by all who realize their position vis-a-vis Creator-God: "Have mercy on me, a sinner. I am not worthy to be in your presence".
What if it is not so much about what we know, but about that we are known?
What if it is not so much about "we hold these truths", as it is about that we are held in the palm of the hand of a loving God.
What if it is more important to love than to be right?
What if God were very pleased that we worship Him for graciously providing for our every need, and invite others to worship Him with us, and not quite so pleased when we worship Him for making us "distinctly Reformed"?
When it comes to who's in versus who's out thinking I agree with Richard Rohr, who says that the church's preoccupation with membership may well have been its greatest failure.
What if all of us concentrated on informing the world that all are in: God loves all. God's grace is extended to all. Jesus died for all. God's providence holds all. Come, believe, participate, connect, grow, love, serve.
What if the only really significant line is the line between those whose eyes have been opened by the Spirit of God to the reality of God's love, and those who are still in the dark? And what if our only responsibility as a church is to live with our eyes wide open, loving, praising and worshiping God in everything we do, and let the Holy Spirit worry about opening more eyes?
What if we could appreciate any and all differences among denominations, worship styles, emphases, as simply different ways in which different communities respond to God with their newly opened eyes?
What if................what if?
Posted in: R.I.P. Deep Thinking
I appreciate your concern about the seeming decline in "deep thinking". But I also noted with interest that you find it scary when you run into people who are able to hold two opposing views at the same time. Is it possible that by standing firmly in our confessional tradition we are often more inclined to provide the "right answers" than to ask the right questions? (I think that it what John Suk is trying to get at in "Not Sure") A wise mentor of mine, Fr. Richard Rohr said this in his daily blog today, under the title "Paradox": "I don’t think the important thing is to be certain about answers nearly as much as being serious about the questions. When we hold spiritual questions, we meet and reckon with our contradictions, with our own dilemmas; and we invariably arrive at a turning point where we either evade God or meet God. Mere answers close down the necessary struggle too quickly, too glibly, and too easily. When we hang on the horns of dilemmas with Christ—between perfect consistency and necessary contradictions—we find ourself in the unique place I call “liminal space.” Reality has a cruciform shape to it then—and we are taught best at the intersection of order and disorder, where God alone can make sense out of the situation and we must surrender. All real transformation of persons takes place when we’re inside of such liminal space—with plenty of questions that are open to God and grace and growth." Is this at all relevant to your concern about the decline of "deep thinking"?
Posted in: The Church as a Community of Dissatisfaction?
I ordered the book. It sounds interesting. But already I wonder how much church member dissatisfaction is associated with a sense of powerlessness vs other groups or leaders in the church. Is it possible that we are really talking about the relative health of our congregations? My own tentative vision of a healthy church leaves room for a great deal more diversity of perspective than is common in many of our churches. A lot more opportunity for open communication, appreciation for the holy mosaic of God's people with all their many different experiences and ideas. Are there ways to measure church health? Are there ways to help people feel more empowered without undermining community allegiance to our Lord? Could a classis help make that happen, or would the involvement of classis merely shift the power from one segment of the community to another? Yes, I will be back after I read the Fly book. This could turn into a great discussion! Thanks for starting it!
Posted in: So How Good are the Sermons in the CRC?
Yes, elders play a role in encouraging quality preaching, and yes, it would help if the congregation could differentiate a good sermon from a bad one, and yes it would be great if additional resources would be available as part of seminary preparation for preaching ministry, but none of it would accomplish much without the preacher being willing and able to receive and utilize constructive criticism. Way too many preachers are too insecure to listen to, let alone respond to, evaluative statements, whether they come from supervising elders, knowledgeable peers, or average listeners. As preachers, we often have way too much emotional investment in our sermon construction to allow others to comment on possible weaknesses. Perhaps the best way elders can help improve sermon quality is to suggest their pastor become a member of a small, safe, group of peers with whom to compare notes on a regular basis. (see Eugene Peterson, The Pastor, especially chapter 18 The Company of Pastors)http://www.amazon.com/The-Pastor-Eugene-H-Peterson/dp/0061988200/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1340761659&sr=1-1&keywords=the+pastor+eugene+peterson
Posted in: Engaging Culture – Where Do You Draw the Line?
Discerning post. Thank you for sending that email. I am sure it led to considerable discussion at your students' dinner table that evening.
With my own children already grown and on their own, I nevertheless tried to imagine myself having that conversation around our dinner table. But in my imagination the tension point was not about where to draw the line, but about how to draw the line.
The easy part is to say: "If you feel led by God to go there, go there. If not, don't go there."
The hard part comes after you have decided not to go there, and someone asks: "Why would you not go there?" Again, the easy answer would be: "I did not feel led by God to go there". And it might even be true. Let's assume it is.
But then I imagined the next question: "What's so bad about those people that God would not want you to go there? Are those people beyond redemption? Does God not love those people? Are we too good to be around those people? Is that situation too dangerous for God to protect us?"
And then I imagined the conversation to quickly turn into a cesspool of comparing .. and judging ... and assuming ..... and labeling ......, and diminishing .......... and belittling ............ and disrespecting.............. and generalizing ................ and pretty soon we are all praying: "thank you Lord that you did not make me like so-and-so..." and asking God to "...please, protect us from the likes of so-and-so."
And pretty soon it is us, "the holy ones" vs "them", the evil ones. And if part of our calling is to fight evil, we may as well start by fighting "them", those wicked servants of the devil.
And one step further down the road, I hear myself urging my kids to vote Conservative, because, surely, we don't want to engage those infidels without adequate weapons to take them out.......
And then I imagined hearing God speaking through my kids, around the table, when they say: "Don't go there, Dad"
Yes, we need to have those conversations around the dinner table.