Following Mark Driscoll's recent effemigate comments about worship leaders and his subsequent less than apologetic climb down, it seems that some in the Christian bloggasphere are getting pangs of sympathy for the Seatle beefcake of a pastor.
Some have even claimed he is the 'probably one of the most uncharitably & unfairly read USA Evangelicals'.
Others have started to call Pastor Mark a brother again hoping that his non-apology is a sign that he is willing to change.
It is at this point that most good-thinking Christians start to feel the effects of having a conscience again and begin to question whether they should back off from offering any further criticism.
Whilst I too understand these feelings I have a gut feeling that the issues raised by Pastor Mark's regular comments and theological ideas are too important to fall under the axe of Christian reasonableness.
I am quite sure that both those who advocated slavery and those who currently discriminating against women, gays, and seemingly effeminate looking worship leaders have the ability to sound nice and decent when the need arises.
I can't help thinking that Pastor Mark's response is more of a fillip towards his constituency rather than an apology to those who he has offended.
I understand the need to follow biblical patterns in the way we conduct our relationships with brothers and sisters in Christ but that is no excuse for becoming nicer than God and ignoring partiality where it raises it's ugly head.
Rooted Openness
Rooted-Openness
The Big Story and the Irreducible Core
Having just lived through the relatively tumultuous storm of Hellgate during which the Mars Hill Bible Church pastor Rob Bell asked some very awkward questions.
The more vocal wing of the evangelical church in the USA responded with the sort of outrage usually reserved for lefty liberals rather than one of their own.
In what seemed to resemble a Monty Python scene, the calvanistic big guns exclaimed 'He's not an evangelical, he's a very naughty boy!'
The speed and manner with which they disowned him suggests they were already waiting for a moment to issue divorce papers.
What saddens me most about the whole issue is that it became almost impossible to have a sensible conversation about the subject without the feeling that you too were being both labelled and dismissed in the process.
In a world that loves labels it is quite difficult to continue a dialogue without looking for suitable terms to describe the position you occupy.
Whether you use Evangelical, Calvinist, Arminian, Liberal, Emergent, or other it must be seen that belief exists as more of a spectrum than distinct groupings.
People like Brian Mclaren, Doug Pagitt, and Rob Bell have attempted to provide a vocabulary for those who are exploring what is perceived as a more progressive theology.
Other voices have worked hard to limit the effect of what appeared to be a growing movement away from the centre of a traditional evangelical position. Of course even this is more of a spectrum than a definitive ecclesiological standpoint.
There have been others, in particular Jim Belcher in his book Deep Church, who have tried to navigate a middle ground in the hope of presenting a third way.
I enjoyed Jim's book but again felt that another title didn't fully reflect the spectrum of belief described.
I understand that we do need titles and descriptions in order to locate various beliefs in a framework that allows us to address the issues concerned in a meaningful and productive way.
A further problem encountered when trying to navigate these waters is that the UK scene is significantly different to the US. In this regard some of the language and reference points offered need to interpreted for a different context.
Having studied this subject for some time (even before I heard the phrase emergent) I want to offer some thoughts on my own way of navigation.
I have chosen the two motifs of Rootedness and Openness to best describe my approach. I have long felt that the best way of finding location on the theological and ecclesiological landscape is to occupy a place of tension between two ideas.
In doing so one is free from the fear of both stagnation and excess.
Jim Belcher offers something of this but probably falls victim to an urge to affirm a prescribed tradition. I don't mean this in a critical way but just as an observation.
My suggestion of rooted-openness attempts to offer both the acknowledgement of the need for defined reference points and the understanding that there will always be a spectrum of belief.
**Rootedness**
For my own context I have attempted to describe an irreducible core of belief that is rooted in both the biblical narratives and the testimony of the historic church.
In one sense, because this is a highly personal process and by nature has to be contexualised, it should not matter to anyone else what prescription I have given to this.
In practice however, and because our faith is intended to be of a corporate nature, we will always need to offer explanation so that others can learn from our journey and we can learn from them.
For me the central component of this irreducible core is the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I would locate this centrality in a Trinitarian understanding of the story.
There are, of course, other elements to this core but this is not important for what I am attempting to describe here at this moment.
What matters here most is that we begin a journey to discover our own irreducible core in which we might become rooted.
It seems to me that churches that develop a core that is too wide at this point risk including ideas that limit the possibility of discussion both within the group and with other churches.
I would include here ideas such as eschatology and ecclesiology that are often held with an unhealthy reverence.
Either way I would encourage you to discover an irreducible core within which you can put down roots.
**Openness**
It seems all too easy for us to close our minds too quickly to conflicting voices. I feel this has happened recently in response to Rob Bell. I am not sure that on every point I fully agree with Rob but I do eagerly welcome his input. He has provided a vocabulary for many within the church who have struggled with certain presumptions made of scripture.
It is my assessment that all Rob really said was that it is possible to both uphold the bible and see things in a different way to that traditionally delivered within evangelicalism.
He gives room for ideas often ignored by much of the evangelical church. He has often been accused of being vague on some issues but that is the point; some of the ideas we have counted as definitive are up for discussion. Why are we so frightened of such dialogue?
I would like to suggest that we develop an openness to the possibility of a bigger story. Brian Mclaren suggests such when he offers the idea that God could have been communicating with the native American indians long before Europeans brought the stories of Jesus.
What perhaps saddens me most is that many of those who offer a criticism to the likes of McLaren, Bell, and Pagitt fail to offer a view on such ideas, preferring to speak against the very idea of raising questions about perceived evangelical belief.
Further than this such critics often fail to address the questions raised prefering to simple accuse others of questioning God when they are in fact questioning a theology.
Whatever theological position we hold we must always agree that our beliefs will never fully explain God; otherwise our beliefs themselves would become an idol.
In this regard it is perhaps not the question or questioner who should be exposed but our inability to conceive that others might hold valid opposing views when seeking to find an explanation for God, life, and the universe.
Openness leaves room for an understanding of God in ways outside of both our experience and theological construct. Holding this in tension with a Rootedness in an irreducible core centred on the person of Jesus Christ brings a check to how far my openness might take me.
You may well see the above as an attempt to decry existing theological and ecclesiological labels only to replace them with alternatives. This is a constant danger in such an exercise as this.
I believe however that introducing the idea of a spectrum of belief held in tension between two seemingly opposite locations allows for a broader discussion than the mere acceptance of a single label. Hopefully this understanding of spectrum might act as an antedote to much of the tribal theological turf wars we continue to see.
In truth I believe that behind all labels is the kind of spectrum of which I write. My goal is to encourage us to develop a new conversation as we admit this to be true.
If we enquire of the term evangelical for example we will soon discover that it has the possibility of revealing a variety of spectrums behind this seemingly definitive label.
One can be an Evangelical Charismatic or an Evangelical calvinist. In actuality these may or may not be mutually exclusive, however the fact of their existence reveals the probability of a spectrum of belief.
Where to now?
I believe this to be a highly personal journey that is best done in community, through the influence biblical narrative, the teachings of the church, the witness of the Holy Spirit.
Some of my findings may well cause others to cry 'He's not an evangelical, he's a very naughty boy!' but that is a risk I am willing to take.
I will endeavour to discover what it means to be rooted in the historic Christian faith whilst being open to the enormity of God's salvation story for all of his creation.
I hope to find others on a similar path with whom I can travel.
The Big Story and the Irreducible Core
Having just lived through the relatively tumultuous storm of Hellgate during which the Mars Hill Bible Church pastor Rob Bell asked some very awkward questions.
The more vocal wing of the evangelical church in the USA responded with the sort of outrage usually reserved for lefty liberals rather than one of their own.
In what seemed to resemble a Monty Python scene, the calvanistic big guns exclaimed 'He's not an evangelical, he's a very naughty boy!'
The speed and manner with which they disowned him suggests they were already waiting for a moment to issue divorce papers.
What saddens me most about the whole issue is that it became almost impossible to have a sensible conversation about the subject without the feeling that you too were being both labelled and dismissed in the process.
In a world that loves labels it is quite difficult to continue a dialogue without looking for suitable terms to describe the position you occupy.
Whether you use Evangelical, Calvinist, Arminian, Liberal, Emergent, or other it must be seen that belief exists as more of a spectrum than distinct groupings.
People like Brian Mclaren, Doug Pagitt, and Rob Bell have attempted to provide a vocabulary for those who are exploring what is perceived as a more progressive theology.
Other voices have worked hard to limit the effect of what appeared to be a growing movement away from the centre of a traditional evangelical position. Of course even this is more of a spectrum than a definitive ecclesiological standpoint.
There have been others, in particular Jim Belcher in his book Deep Church, who have tried to navigate a middle ground in the hope of presenting a third way.
I enjoyed Jim's book but again felt that another title didn't fully reflect the spectrum of belief described.
I understand that we do need titles and descriptions in order to locate various beliefs in a framework that allows us to address the issues concerned in a meaningful and productive way.
A further problem encountered when trying to navigate these waters is that the UK scene is significantly different to the US. In this regard some of the language and reference points offered need to interpreted for a different context.
Having studied this subject for some time (even before I heard the phrase emergent) I want to offer some thoughts on my own way of navigation.
I have chosen the two motifs of Rootedness and Openness to best describe my approach. I have long felt that the best way of finding location on the theological and ecclesiological landscape is to occupy a place of tension between two ideas.
In doing so one is free from the fear of both stagnation and excess.
Jim Belcher offers something of this but probably falls victim to an urge to affirm a prescribed tradition. I don't mean this in a critical way but just as an observation.
My suggestion of rooted-openness attempts to offer both the acknowledgement of the need for defined reference points and the understanding that there will always be a spectrum of belief.
**Rootedness**
For my own context I have attempted to describe an irreducible core of belief that is rooted in both the biblical narratives and the testimony of the historic church.
In one sense, because this is a highly personal process and by nature has to be contexualised, it should not matter to anyone else what prescription I have given to this.
In practice however, and because our faith is intended to be of a corporate nature, we will always need to offer explanation so that others can learn from our journey and we can learn from them.
For me the central component of this irreducible core is the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I would locate this centrality in a Trinitarian understanding of the story.
There are, of course, other elements to this core but this is not important for what I am attempting to describe here at this moment.
What matters here most is that we begin a journey to discover our own irreducible core in which we might become rooted.
It seems to me that churches that develop a core that is too wide at this point risk including ideas that limit the possibility of discussion both within the group and with other churches.
I would include here ideas such as eschatology and ecclesiology that are often held with an unhealthy reverence.
Either way I would encourage you to discover an irreducible core within which you can put down roots.
**Openness**
It seems all too easy for us to close our minds too quickly to conflicting voices. I feel this has happened recently in response to Rob Bell. I am not sure that on every point I fully agree with Rob but I do eagerly welcome his input. He has provided a vocabulary for many within the church who have struggled with certain presumptions made of scripture.
It is my assessment that all Rob really said was that it is possible to both uphold the bible and see things in a different way to that traditionally delivered within evangelicalism.
He gives room for ideas often ignored by much of the evangelical church. He has often been accused of being vague on some issues but that is the point; some of the ideas we have counted as definitive are up for discussion. Why are we so frightened of such dialogue?
I would like to suggest that we develop an openness to the possibility of a bigger story. Brian Mclaren suggests such when he offers the idea that God could have been communicating with the native American indians long before Europeans brought the stories of Jesus.
What perhaps saddens me most is that many of those who offer a criticism to the likes of McLaren, Bell, and Pagitt fail to offer a view on such ideas, preferring to speak against the very idea of raising questions about perceived evangelical belief.
Further than this such critics often fail to address the questions raised prefering to simple accuse others of questioning God when they are in fact questioning a theology.
Whatever theological position we hold we must always agree that our beliefs will never fully explain God; otherwise our beliefs themselves would become an idol.
In this regard it is perhaps not the question or questioner who should be exposed but our inability to conceive that others might hold valid opposing views when seeking to find an explanation for God, life, and the universe.
Openness leaves room for an understanding of God in ways outside of both our experience and theological construct. Holding this in tension with a Rootedness in an irreducible core centred on the person of Jesus Christ brings a check to how far my openness might take me.
You may well see the above as an attempt to decry existing theological and ecclesiological labels only to replace them with alternatives. This is a constant danger in such an exercise as this.
I believe however that introducing the idea of a spectrum of belief held in tension between two seemingly opposite locations allows for a broader discussion than the mere acceptance of a single label. Hopefully this understanding of spectrum might act as an antedote to much of the tribal theological turf wars we continue to see.
In truth I believe that behind all labels is the kind of spectrum of which I write. My goal is to encourage us to develop a new conversation as we admit this to be true.
If we enquire of the term evangelical for example we will soon discover that it has the possibility of revealing a variety of spectrums behind this seemingly definitive label.
One can be an Evangelical Charismatic or an Evangelical calvinist. In actuality these may or may not be mutually exclusive, however the fact of their existence reveals the probability of a spectrum of belief.
Where to now?
I believe this to be a highly personal journey that is best done in community, through the influence biblical narrative, the teachings of the church, the witness of the Holy Spirit.
Some of my findings may well cause others to cry 'He's not an evangelical, he's a very naughty boy!' but that is a risk I am willing to take.
I will endeavour to discover what it means to be rooted in the historic Christian faith whilst being open to the enormity of God's salvation story for all of his creation.
I hope to find others on a similar path with whom I can travel.
Francis Chan and a Humble View of Eternal Punishment
As Francis Chan releases his antidote to Rob Bell's controversial best seller it seems that some have been drawn in by the humble and conciliatory style of his promotional video. Don't be fooled by the tone however this is a fine example of sophistry.
He employs the sophists skills of presenting an argument that is hard to disagree with only to deliver a conclusion that is not really connected with his original thrust. It goes like this:
1. It's good to study
2. Study is a humbling process
3. This is a very important subject
4. Some people have spoken about it with a lack of care
5. God's ways are not our ways
6. We need to be careful
All the way through these points his hearers nod in agreement - what is there to disagree with.
He then goes on to present a Calvinistic understanding of the subject as if this is the only way in which we can be true to his previous points.
It is sophistry because you can agree with his first points and still come to a different theological view point.
His humble style is appealing but not necessarily affirmation that he is right. Yet it is this style and his initial points that make people think that his conclusion must be correct not the veracity of his conclusion.
I look forward to reading the book for more humble calvinistic insights.
He employs the sophists skills of presenting an argument that is hard to disagree with only to deliver a conclusion that is not really connected with his original thrust. It goes like this:
1. It's good to study
2. Study is a humbling process
3. This is a very important subject
4. Some people have spoken about it with a lack of care
5. God's ways are not our ways
6. We need to be careful
All the way through these points his hearers nod in agreement - what is there to disagree with.
He then goes on to present a Calvinistic understanding of the subject as if this is the only way in which we can be true to his previous points.
It is sophistry because you can agree with his first points and still come to a different theological view point.
His humble style is appealing but not necessarily affirmation that he is right. Yet it is this style and his initial points that make people think that his conclusion must be correct not the veracity of his conclusion.
I look forward to reading the book for more humble calvinistic insights.
PPI - Does the church mis-sell personal assurance
A recent ruling by the High Court in Britain condemned UK banks for mis-selling Payment Protection Insurance (PPI) when offering mortgages for individuals to buy property. The court took the view that customers had agreed to take on the extra cost involved because they believed that they might not be granted the loans if they were to refuse.
There is little evidence that banks overtly told customers that this was the case but the methods employed in the transactions left a clear implication that agreeing to PPI was an essential part of the process.
There are perhaps lessons for the church, and related mission based organisations, to learn from this ruling.
Firstly, people agree to propositions for a variety of reasons and we should not assume that the overt call for a response is fully understood by the hearer.
An alter call might well be seen as having a clear evangelical message by those who attend the church regularly. The visitor, however, might be responding to the suggested answer to a particular felt need on that occasion.
For example; a young girl arrives at church fresh from the break up of a long standing committed relationship. During the sermon the preacher affirms that speaking with God can offer comfort to those in crisis.
The regular attender hears this as a call to 'become a Christian' and 'start attending the church'. The guest, however, hears that their pain can be eased by praying.
The appeal is given and the woman responds. The church counts this as a decision to become a follower of Christ and processes her application for assurance according.
Thus there are two different interpretations of the same event. The church now speaks to her as if she has made a full commitment to become a disciple of Jesus Christ. She is 'sold' personal assurance on the back of responding to receiving comfort for her felt need.
Secondly, churches and agencies might offer an individual some much needed help in their moment of crisis. During the delivery of this kindness a church worker explains the gospel and offers to pray with them if they desire to respond.
The person in need senses that to refuse this part of the deal might lead to the help being withdrawn or limited and so agrees to become a 'follower of Jesus'.
The church worker may not have intended to mis-communicate the message but in their eagerness to see people respond they perhaps ignore the emotional vulnerability of those in need.
If we consider the high court ruling and allow this to reflect on the two examples above we might consider that some parts of the church could be accused of mis-selling.
Here are a few thoughts to help church leaders avoid falling into such a trap.
1. Avoid using the Barnum Effect*
We perhaps need to be careful in our calls for a response to the gospel that we do not offer a proposition so wide that it could include just about everyone whilst making it look as if we are speaking specifically to individuals.
Appeals that start off with some suggested insight into the circumstances of the intended responder but end up being aimed at 'anyone who is breathing' undermine the strength of the message.
2. Avoid the commoditisation of individuals.
There is a danger that churches measure such responses as the number of 'souls saved' as if this were some key performance indicator. We should never turn people's story into a mere measurement of our success.
It's not that measurement is in itself wrong but that we can begin to count the initial act of getting people to respond as the main indicator of success.
Every person's back story is more important than the ecclesiological statistics of any given church.
3. Understand that behind every person there are many others.
Behind those who responds are others who will develop their own commentary on how the church treats this newcomer.
Families are understandably concerned when their loved ones adopt new patterns of behaviour. The church is rightly judged for how it treats these people.
Much of our teaching, explicitly or otherwise, draws people out of their old life and into a new community. This can cause a division between individuals and their families. One has to question whether this is a goal consistent with the gospel message.
I have often heard evangelical leaders asking the question 'why is the back door bigger than the front?' in the context of church growth.
Perhaps to fully answer this we need to understand more about the journey made by those coming into the church.
If, as we have seen, there is the possibility that the church and those who respond to an appeal can view this transaction in a different way, we must make every effort to handle these moments with care.
We don't want to be accused of mis-selling personal assurance.
(* The Forer effect (also called the Barnum Effect after P.T. Barnum's observation that "we've got something for everyone") is the observation that individuals will give high accuracy ratings to descriptions of their personality that supposedly are tailored specifically for them, but are in fact vague and general enough to apply to a wide range of people.)
There is little evidence that banks overtly told customers that this was the case but the methods employed in the transactions left a clear implication that agreeing to PPI was an essential part of the process.
There are perhaps lessons for the church, and related mission based organisations, to learn from this ruling.
Firstly, people agree to propositions for a variety of reasons and we should not assume that the overt call for a response is fully understood by the hearer.
An alter call might well be seen as having a clear evangelical message by those who attend the church regularly. The visitor, however, might be responding to the suggested answer to a particular felt need on that occasion.
For example; a young girl arrives at church fresh from the break up of a long standing committed relationship. During the sermon the preacher affirms that speaking with God can offer comfort to those in crisis.
The regular attender hears this as a call to 'become a Christian' and 'start attending the church'. The guest, however, hears that their pain can be eased by praying.
The appeal is given and the woman responds. The church counts this as a decision to become a follower of Christ and processes her application for assurance according.
Thus there are two different interpretations of the same event. The church now speaks to her as if she has made a full commitment to become a disciple of Jesus Christ. She is 'sold' personal assurance on the back of responding to receiving comfort for her felt need.
Secondly, churches and agencies might offer an individual some much needed help in their moment of crisis. During the delivery of this kindness a church worker explains the gospel and offers to pray with them if they desire to respond.
The person in need senses that to refuse this part of the deal might lead to the help being withdrawn or limited and so agrees to become a 'follower of Jesus'.
The church worker may not have intended to mis-communicate the message but in their eagerness to see people respond they perhaps ignore the emotional vulnerability of those in need.
If we consider the high court ruling and allow this to reflect on the two examples above we might consider that some parts of the church could be accused of mis-selling.
Here are a few thoughts to help church leaders avoid falling into such a trap.
1. Avoid using the Barnum Effect*
We perhaps need to be careful in our calls for a response to the gospel that we do not offer a proposition so wide that it could include just about everyone whilst making it look as if we are speaking specifically to individuals.
Appeals that start off with some suggested insight into the circumstances of the intended responder but end up being aimed at 'anyone who is breathing' undermine the strength of the message.
2. Avoid the commoditisation of individuals.
There is a danger that churches measure such responses as the number of 'souls saved' as if this were some key performance indicator. We should never turn people's story into a mere measurement of our success.
It's not that measurement is in itself wrong but that we can begin to count the initial act of getting people to respond as the main indicator of success.
Every person's back story is more important than the ecclesiological statistics of any given church.
3. Understand that behind every person there are many others.
Behind those who responds are others who will develop their own commentary on how the church treats this newcomer.
Families are understandably concerned when their loved ones adopt new patterns of behaviour. The church is rightly judged for how it treats these people.
Much of our teaching, explicitly or otherwise, draws people out of their old life and into a new community. This can cause a division between individuals and their families. One has to question whether this is a goal consistent with the gospel message.
I have often heard evangelical leaders asking the question 'why is the back door bigger than the front?' in the context of church growth.
Perhaps to fully answer this we need to understand more about the journey made by those coming into the church.
If, as we have seen, there is the possibility that the church and those who respond to an appeal can view this transaction in a different way, we must make every effort to handle these moments with care.
We don't want to be accused of mis-selling personal assurance.
(* The Forer effect (also called the Barnum Effect after P.T. Barnum's observation that "we've got something for everyone") is the observation that individuals will give high accuracy ratings to descriptions of their personality that supposedly are tailored specifically for them, but are in fact vague and general enough to apply to a wide range of people.)
Should we rejoice at the death of an enemy?
Several years ago, when our children were still quite young, my car was attacked by a gang of drunken thugs.
I was stuck in stationary traffic with no way of driving away from the incident.
As my third daughter screamed in the back of the car our assailants (more than ten of them) began to kick and rock our vehicle before opening the drivers door and attacking me.
Fearing for our safety, and with what appeared to be very few options, I managed to fall out of my seat and looked for an opportunity of defence.
I hit the one nearest to me and managed to get to my feet. I had no chance of winning against so many guys.
As I continued to fight, with the sound of my daughter still ringing in my ears, several other drivers came to our rescue.
By this time however a rage had come over me and I continued to hit one of our attackers; eventually having to be restrained by my rescuers.
On telling this story to family and friends on my return home I was unequivocally congratulated for having stood up in defence of my daughter.
However, I knew the truth of how I had somehow crossed a line from being the defender to the aggressor. This line was somewhat feint to the external observer but I knew of it's presence so very clearly on that day.
I began to see that evil did not just exist in my attackers but in my heart also, as my fear turned to the most intense rage. I wanted to hurt someone and I wanted to hurt them so badly that other people had to restrain me.
This is our problem when it comes to defending our freedom and our families we can so very easily cross a line; rather than revealing a noble sense of honour it shows the grim truth that evil is not just in another place or another heart.
Times like this are moments for reflection rather than celebration.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Can we question God?
Questioning God
I have been struck by a particular sentiment that seems to be coming from the Calvinist camp in the recent argument over Rob Bell's book.
It seems that we human beings are not allowed to question God. I suppose if you consider humanity to be totally depraved then it probably stands to reason that the God of the universe doesn't owe us anything.
Until that is you consider the self revelation of God as Father. In this respect the creator God has offered a relationship to his creatures that allows for communication within the household.
If God wanted us to think that he was just a distant creator who had remained outside of creation itself then any attempt at raising a question or two would be futile.
If, however, this God has indicated that he sees his creative role as that of a parent producing children it could be thought that he has a responsibility to that which he has birthed.
It's difficult to imagine respecting any parent who would consider that they owe their offspring nothing. Quite the reverse in fact.
God, in his self revelation as Father, has declared himself to be responsible in his love for his children.
In this respect our exploration of this relationship should contain questions that allow for God's revelation to flow through.
Following this thought I would want to answer that God does have a responsibility towards us and we are allowed to ask even the hardest of questions.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I have been struck by a particular sentiment that seems to be coming from the Calvinist camp in the recent argument over Rob Bell's book.
It seems that we human beings are not allowed to question God. I suppose if you consider humanity to be totally depraved then it probably stands to reason that the God of the universe doesn't owe us anything.
Until that is you consider the self revelation of God as Father. In this respect the creator God has offered a relationship to his creatures that allows for communication within the household.
If God wanted us to think that he was just a distant creator who had remained outside of creation itself then any attempt at raising a question or two would be futile.
If, however, this God has indicated that he sees his creative role as that of a parent producing children it could be thought that he has a responsibility to that which he has birthed.
It's difficult to imagine respecting any parent who would consider that they owe their offspring nothing. Quite the reverse in fact.
God, in his self revelation as Father, has declared himself to be responsible in his love for his children.
In this respect our exploration of this relationship should contain questions that allow for God's revelation to flow through.
Following this thought I would want to answer that God does have a responsibility towards us and we are allowed to ask even the hardest of questions.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Does God owe us anything?
Questioning God.
I have been struck by a particular sentiment that seems to be coming from the Calvinist camp in the recent argument over Rob Bell's book.
It seems that we human beings are not allowed to question God. I suppose if you consider humanity to be totally depraved then it probably stands to reason that the God of the universe doesn't owe us anything.
Until that is you consider the self revelation of God as Father. In this respect the creator God has offered a relationship to his creatures that allows for communication within the household.
If God wanted us to think that he was just a distant creator who had remained outside of creation itself then any attempt at raising a question or two would be futile.
If, however, this God has indicated that he sees his creative role as that of a parent producing children it could be thought that he has a responsibility to that which he has birthed.
It's difficult to imagine respecting any parent who would consider that they owe their offspring nothing. Quite the reverse in fact.
God, in his self revelation as Father, has declared himself to be responsible in his love for his children.
In this respect our exploration of this relationship should contain questions that allow for God's revelation to flow through.
Following this thought I would want to answer that God does have a responsibility towards us and we are allowed to ask even the hardest of questions.
'How much more.......?'
'How much more.......?
'In the midst of all the conversation hitting twitterland about the Rob Bell book and the conservative evangelical backlash it is illuminating to see how much of what is being said reveals what Christians believe about God.
This is, of course, what Rob Bell calls 'the question behind the question'. Or perhaps it has become the statement behind the statement. Many, though not all, of the leaders who criticise Bell believe that God has chosen a select few to be 'saved' and that in this predestination His love is fulfilled.
This is of course at odds with the wider hope expressed by Rob Bell and has lead to him, wrongly in my view, being labelled a universalist. It strikes me that, given Jesus' revelation that we can approach God as Father, the idea of any partiality or favouritism is out of keeping with a complete expression of love.
I fail to imagine that any book on parenting would give the advice 'now have a few children and pick one of them as a favourite'.
Good parenting and a lack of partiality go hand in hand for any decent earthly parent.'How much more.......?'
'In the midst of all the conversation hitting twitterland about the Rob Bell book and the conservative evangelical backlash it is illuminating to see how much of what is being said reveals what Christians believe about God.
This is, of course, what Rob Bell calls 'the question behind the question'. Or perhaps it has become the statement behind the statement. Many, though not all, of the leaders who criticise Bell believe that God has chosen a select few to be 'saved' and that in this predestination His love is fulfilled.
This is of course at odds with the wider hope expressed by Rob Bell and has lead to him, wrongly in my view, being labelled a universalist. It strikes me that, given Jesus' revelation that we can approach God as Father, the idea of any partiality or favouritism is out of keeping with a complete expression of love.
I fail to imagine that any book on parenting would give the advice 'now have a few children and pick one of them as a favourite'.
Good parenting and a lack of partiality go hand in hand for any decent earthly parent.'How much more.......?'
Defining God by Love
A recent response to Rob Bell's book at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary seems to have captured the imagination of those who are already suspicious that Bell has jumped the evangelical ship and deserves the nebulous term unorthodox. The quote in question goes something like this: 'Rob Bell is defining God by love instead of defining love by God' At first glance it might seem like an excellent assessment of how the subject has been dealt with given that Bell openly admits to have written with disconnected people in mind. When you dig a little further into the idea that we might be able to somehow define love by God you realise that it is possible more sophistry than sense. That is the problem with sophistry it always sounds like it makes sense. It has to be said that it is impossible to develop any theology that is not communicated in an anthropomorphic setting. Scripture itself is given in fully human terms that call upon the hearer to engage with the Divine in the words (inspired as they are) of a particular people at a particular time. It seems to be the way God has chosen to communicate with us: the divine in fully human terms. To accuse Bell of defining God by love and not the reverse is to not only ask the impossible, but to ask him to do what God hasn't done. My challenge in return to those who think this latest critique is correct is: go ahead, describe love by God without using human reference points. I guess we will find that it probably looks a little like describing God by love. But that's ok, incarnational thinking is not a new idea.
Who has the right to say what is orthodox?
Following the recent controversy regarding Rob Bell's soon to be published book about the meaning and nature of hell, one commentator suggested that Bell should no longer be considered as an evangelical.
Quite what difference this would make to the sale of this new book can only be surmised.
This statement did send my thoughts back to some study I had undertaken several years ago about the nature of orthodoxy.
All organisations and cultures develop their own plausible reality structure; one in which certain assumptions and beliefs are taken to be orthodox.
The evangelical community is no exception in this respect and has gathered around a general set of values and beliefs that have become sacrosanct over many years.
This is not to suggest that there is homogeneity of belief within the camp but that the centrally held tenants are seen as the prerequisite for entering into the fold; indeed for continued inclusion.
This said it would not be impossible to produce a list of many points of disagreement between various subsets from within the movement. Everything from eschatology to ecclesiology has the potential to bring division given the right set of circumstances.
From time to time particular subsets develop the loudest voice and therefore, by implication the greatest influence.
Calvinists, Baptists, Pentecostals, charismatics, church growth movements have all been significant voices in shaping the evangelical topography. Usually such voices are initially seen with suspicion but have been able to ride the calls for exclusion on the grounds of orthodoxy due to their popularity.
Their stories are not unlike that of today's fresh thinkers: some of whom have welcomed the label emergent to describe the subset they find themselves within.
Others, like Bell, have earnestly tried to avoid such labels: perhaps in the hope of engendering a wider and deeper conversation.
It seems unavoidable that groups will attempt to define orthodoxy at some level and, by implication, will feel the urge to exclude those who differ significantly at those points that are seen as key.
The sadness is that the call for exclusion often comes at the beginning of the dialogue when questions are being raised.
If individual and groups are to be labelled as heretics for asking key questions about generally accepted views it is likely to create a culture that is all too ready to act as accuser than enquirer.
This stance will only ever lead to a clamping down on the essential element of theological discovery that has taken us from the worst aspects of Christendom to a faith that is able to cope with the nuances of modern life.
Leslie Newbigin once describe the missionary calling as being willing to leave the safety and vantage point of the hill of the cross in order to travel to where another human being exists. In doing so we must risk the notion that they may be right and we may be mistaken whilst trusting that the Holy Spirit will meet us in the dialogue to confirm the work of the cross.
Perhaps church leaders need to adopt a similar stance when looking to build the unity that is so implicitly a part of Christ's passion.
Leaving the safety of our long held doctrines to meet our Christian kinfolk. Taking the risk that they may well be correct we trust that the Holy Spirit will meet us in the dialogue and guide us to truth.
If I am honest I don't sense this willingness in the words of those who call for fellow Christians to be placed outside of their own version of orthodoxy.
We must do better.
Quite what difference this would make to the sale of this new book can only be surmised.
This statement did send my thoughts back to some study I had undertaken several years ago about the nature of orthodoxy.
All organisations and cultures develop their own plausible reality structure; one in which certain assumptions and beliefs are taken to be orthodox.
The evangelical community is no exception in this respect and has gathered around a general set of values and beliefs that have become sacrosanct over many years.
This is not to suggest that there is homogeneity of belief within the camp but that the centrally held tenants are seen as the prerequisite for entering into the fold; indeed for continued inclusion.
This said it would not be impossible to produce a list of many points of disagreement between various subsets from within the movement. Everything from eschatology to ecclesiology has the potential to bring division given the right set of circumstances.
From time to time particular subsets develop the loudest voice and therefore, by implication the greatest influence.
Calvinists, Baptists, Pentecostals, charismatics, church growth movements have all been significant voices in shaping the evangelical topography. Usually such voices are initially seen with suspicion but have been able to ride the calls for exclusion on the grounds of orthodoxy due to their popularity.
Their stories are not unlike that of today's fresh thinkers: some of whom have welcomed the label emergent to describe the subset they find themselves within.
Others, like Bell, have earnestly tried to avoid such labels: perhaps in the hope of engendering a wider and deeper conversation.
It seems unavoidable that groups will attempt to define orthodoxy at some level and, by implication, will feel the urge to exclude those who differ significantly at those points that are seen as key.
The sadness is that the call for exclusion often comes at the beginning of the dialogue when questions are being raised.
If individual and groups are to be labelled as heretics for asking key questions about generally accepted views it is likely to create a culture that is all too ready to act as accuser than enquirer.
This stance will only ever lead to a clamping down on the essential element of theological discovery that has taken us from the worst aspects of Christendom to a faith that is able to cope with the nuances of modern life.
Leslie Newbigin once describe the missionary calling as being willing to leave the safety and vantage point of the hill of the cross in order to travel to where another human being exists. In doing so we must risk the notion that they may be right and we may be mistaken whilst trusting that the Holy Spirit will meet us in the dialogue to confirm the work of the cross.
Perhaps church leaders need to adopt a similar stance when looking to build the unity that is so implicitly a part of Christ's passion.
Leaving the safety of our long held doctrines to meet our Christian kinfolk. Taking the risk that they may well be correct we trust that the Holy Spirit will meet us in the dialogue and guide us to truth.
If I am honest I don't sense this willingness in the words of those who call for fellow Christians to be placed outside of their own version of orthodoxy.
We must do better.
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