Monday, July 16, 2012

All Christianities Need Each Other


http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/15/opinion/sunday/douthat-can-liberal-christianity-be-saved.html?smid=fb-share

The above article is one that raced around facebook for a few days and at least one friend asked me directly to respond to.  I'm certain I could say much more, but I wanted to at least post my initial thoughts (also visible on her facebook page) out here and see if I get any more traffic :-)

I'll mostly focus my response on this quote: "Traditional believers, both Protestant and Catholic, have not necessarily thrived in this environment. The most successful Christian bodies have often been politically conservative but theologically shallow, preaching a gospel of health and wealth rather than the full New Testament message." There comes a point at which it becomes, arguably, impossible to find and locate a "true" or "pure" Christianity. I remember at Houghton a guest lecturer claiming that "holiness" and "justice" in the OT were the same word (same concept maybe, but definitely different words...). But I think that many conservative / liberal divides can be reduced to the different pursuits that they have, conservatives for holiness and liberals for justice.


Along the same lines, my personal description of "liberal" Christianity is grounded in my Houghton study of "Enlightenment" v. "Post-modernity." Everyone gets angry at the Enlightenment for exalting a glorified, (supposedly) neutral version of capital R Reason over experience or, in conservative circles, scripture. Liberal Christianity, to my mind, has swung the pendulum far in the other direction: nothing can contradict my capital E Experience, not a (supposedly) neutral vision of Reason (that is little more than rich, educated, white men's cultural values) and certainly not Scripture. If scripture is found to be inconsistent with my experience, then what is true must be what I have experienced. The exaltation of the individual over tradition, of experience over reason or of scripture continues to progress further and further.


Now, the question that looms in my mind is, to refer to my first comment, can you actually find a "pure" balance between these things? I think rather not. I have been deeply moved by the profound generosity and deep love of those who my conservatives friends would consider not "real" Christians. I have been supported and sheltered by the conservative Christians whose vision of true faith and holiness has shaped me and helped me grow into whatever it is that I am. I can use reason, scripture, tradition or experience to find healthy love for God and desire to serve God's kingdom among either side of the so-called "divide." But, again, all I need to do is turn to my original post: our scripture and our tradition witness to both of these strains being present and even appropriate. Most of the prophets and even the book of James have a lot to say about why we need to work for justice and that the pursuit of holiness should take a backseat (this is the path TEC sees itself on). The priestly strains of the Old Testament and a lot of Pauline material emphasizes holiness rather than justice.


This is the way that I think about denominationalism. No one denomination has all the pieces of biblical faith truly or even fully or even adequately represented. I am deeply grateful that I grew up in the Holiness movement, inspired by worship and humility (that I arguably never had much of) in the presence of God. I grew deeper in faith because I encountered Pentecostalism and new forms of prayer and even speaking and praying in tongues, practices I admire and respect. I landed in TEC because I found set of trinitarian doctrines and practices in the Anglican Communion that have shaped and changed me, my understanding of God and of the world and human relationships. I'm even slowly coming to be thankful for the ways that being in a hierarchical Episcopal church are shaping my views of authority. All of these strands are important pieces of the faith to which the Bible witnesses. No denomination does all of them well. I for one am glad that I have gotten to spend time at IHOP (KC) as well as YDS as well as Houghton College and a whole slew of Wesleyan youth camps where I have been exposed to and deeply shaped by all of them. While I see excesses and flaws in each of them, I wouldn't dare presume to invalidate any of them as being Christian because I see honest, faithful people pursuing God in each of them.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Control

On reflection, I'm surprised that it took me this long to get to this point.  Starting this blog, I hoped to post once every two weeks.  I didn't meet that goal at all, but I did at least post once a month until May.  That's the better part of half a year.

I have to confess now, though, that I'm disappointed with myself.  Even though I wrote an entire sermon on transitions and interruptions (see "The Pruning Shears of God" post), a lot of my disciplines went out the window in this last month and a half.  I could make a lot of excuses, and maybe even give a couple of reasons.  But there have been so many times that TFA has given me excellent reflection material that I have failed to put up here it is embarrassing.  I have thought several times about posting those things, and just haven't applied myself to doing so.  Now I wish I had.

This is going to be one of my greatest growing edges as I transition into this new phase of my life: taking initiative.  Taking control over my own disciplines.

If self-control is a muscle, it is one I have developed in some ways.  I meet my academic deadlines.  I respond to most e-mails within a couple of days.  I get myself up for church every Sunday morning.  I call my wife every night and text her every morning. 

In other ways, though, self-control is a fruit of the Spirit I wish were more of a vegetable I childishly leave on my plate.  Of the last thirty days since heading to TFA Induction / Institute, I have done morning prayer maybe six or seven times.  I have read scripture a handful more than that, in the evenings when my work is done early (rare) and my roommate isn't around (rarer still). 

I have allowed, like so many others, the places I have lived and studied done the structural work of my spiritual life for me.  In college I had chapel, Koinonia and Mercy Seat to guide my weekly reading and study.  In seminary I had daily morning prayer, daily chapel, and a whole hose of other gatherings with friends.  Now I have only the random, unsought blessings of surprising conversations with new friends with whom I share a common and comfortable understanding.  Yet even in those moments of unexpected joy, little intimacy is shared.  I have been so blessed to share such depths with friends in the last several years that the intentionality that provides the structure for that deep intimacy has become subconscious.  If I am to continue to grow in the next two years, I need the Spirit to grant me the self-control to re-embrace that same intentionality: within new friendships, within ministry opportunities, within myself.

This is my prayer of supplication as I finish Institute this coming week and as I transition yet again towards NC.  But along with it goes a prayer of thanksgiving for today, for allowing myself to be interrupted from morning prayer (I was one collect away from finishing) and accepting an invitation to come to Starbucks, where I'm writing right now.  Perhaps I internalized my sermon more than I thought :-)