Countdown to Christmas Conversations: An Invitation to Consider the Character of the Christ – Part Five – The Just and Righteous Government

Upholding it all.

This is the sixth in a series of posts discussing my belief in Jesus as the Messiah, in hopes of fostering understanding of my spirituality, and encouraging others to share their own perspectives on spirituality (defined broadly as the means by which we derive meaning from life and assign value to its elements). For more about why I find the discussion of our spirituality to be so important, especially as we countdown to Christmas, please see the initial post in the series. (Found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations.html)

Atlas trumped by "whole world in His hands."

As I discussed in the last post, Christians are called to be at peace, and to be peace-makers. And yet, we are among the most divisive and territorial groups, even against those with whom we should find the greatest agreement. If we serve the Prince of Peace, then why is there such little peace, even for Christians? Because, simply, too few Christians live as loyal subjects of the King of kings and Lord of lords. We do not practice the presence of the Prince of Peace.

For one thing, we do not apply the protocol Jesus prescribed for conflict resolution and relational reconciliation. The four stages Jesus prescribes in Matthew 18:15-18 require us to prioritize two goals. The first and foremost goal is relational reconciliation. He prays for unity in the body of Christ in John 17:20-21 as the means by which others will recognize His coming. But relational reconciliation is contingent on the second goal: conflict resolution. By “resolving conflict” I do not mean that we must come to agreement on every issue. But it is essential that we commit to an accurate focus and a detailed resolution (in the sense of the resolution of photographs or computer monitors). The real question is: do we clearly see the actual points of conflict?

But there is a second factor preventing us from ever approaching a clear understanding of the conflict(s), much less an relational reconciliation. Why do we ignore or even willfully avoid Jesus’ protocol in Matthew 18? In short, we are afraid. We fear the cost and consequences of each of the four stages of the Matthew 18 protocol. It is a simple matter to confront another’s beliefs or behaviors, so long as there is no opportunity for rebuttal, much less correction of my misperception or misunderstanding. I would prefer to have others simply alter their course to accommodate the beliefs, behaviors, ministries, and life to which I have already become accustomed. But the second stage Jesus prescribes, where He calls us to involve witnesses, involves the potential for those witnesses to exonerate the one I accuse, and to point out my inequity (and iniquity) instead.

Not knocking to get in, but to ask for an accounting.

Why won’t we pay the relatively minor cost of admitting we might be wrong? Because we do not fully grasp the consequences of failing to engage one another’s perspectives and reconciling ourselves together. We do not work for peace, and so we do not experience peace, because we refuse to trust the Lord to bring correction. We believe we must be right, or fear that instead of correction we will experience rejection. Why does this have such power to make us so fearful? Because we imagine that our safety, security, substance, supply, and Savior all depend upon us being right. In fact, all of the above depend merely on being in Him. He is the Prince of Peace. And we can trust Him to bring peace to and through us, so long as we choose to live as subjects of His just and righteous government, the Kingdom of God. That is the government which is upon His shoulders.

In a world that appears to be disintegrating, the body of Christ can no longer afford its continued fragmentation, splintering over issues that are unclearly defined—conflicts that need to be brought into greater resolution and focus—which prevent us from relational reconciliation. If The Church refuses to practice the presence of her Prince of Peace, we resign ourselves to witnessing the continuing increase of violence in the wake of injustice, oppression, and exploitation. This is not the gift we seek this Christmas.

Not quite accurate, but you get the idea of Who's in charge.

Therefore, as subjects of the Prince of Peace, may God find us not only willing, but active in pursuing the kinds of dialogue that result in conflict resolution and relational reconciliation, within both The Church and the communities we are called to serve.

Merry Christmas!

p.s. It’s not a Christmas carol, per se. But I’m singing it this morning as I proof-read this post:

“Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be. With God as our Father, siblings all are we. [Inclusive language isn’t always as poetic as the original, but there it is.] Let me walk with my siblings in perfect harmony. Let peace begin with me; let this be the moment now. With every step I take, let this be my solemn vow: To take each moment, and live each moment, in peace eternally. Let there be peace on earth. And let it begin with me.” 

Countdown to Christmas Conversations: An Invitation to Consider the Character of the Christ – Part Four – Prince of Peace

Just a fantasy? Or does Jesus provide a way to peace?

This is the fifth in a series of posts discussing my belief in Jesus as the Messiah, in hopes of fostering understanding of my spirituality, and encouraging others to share their own perspectives on spirituality (defined broadly as the means by which we derive meaning from life and assign value to its elements). For more about why I find the discussion of our spirituality to be so important, especially as we countdown to Christmas, please see the initial post in the series. (Found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations.html)

Sometimes, when dealing with a phrase or title where one of the words especially catches our attention, we miss some great insights. I felt that way about looking at Jesus Christ as Wonderful Counselor (in the post here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations_20.html), Mighty God (here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations_21.html), and Everlasting Father (here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations_22.html). I find great inspiration in what I have learned about each word in each of those titles.

"Keeping the peace" in Ferguson, Mo.

Looking again at Isaiah 9:6 regarding Jesus Christ as Prince of Peace, though, I find another obstacle. Here is a phrase has caught my attention so much in the past that it becomes almost impossible to slow down and really consider what it means. Our familiarity with a phrase like “Prince of Peace” may prevent us from appreciating just how important a concept, and how radical a claim it is.

Even a brief thought about it raises troubling questions. Can we seriously consider Jesus Christ as a Prince of Peace in a world where terrorist organizations pride themselves on inventive cruelties and escalating casualties as they pursue their murderous doctrines? What does a Prince of Peace matter when our communities are self-destructing, with those called “to serve and protect” fearfully reacting in preventative self-protection, while citizens turn on one another in their blind rage? Am I willing to explain to young children how I pray to this Prince of Peace for their hospitalized mother and arrested father, even as they collect a few belongings to take with them into foster care?

Yes, we can. It does matter. And I am willing. But why?

Night-lights help us sleep more peacefully.

I have to imagine my reactions are probably like yours, unless you have no capacity for evil whatsoever. But I cannot help but wonder what elaborate torture might adequately avenge the lives of innocent men, women, and children, murdered for failing to believe in the blood-thirsty god their assailants feel compelled to appease. Likewise, I long to discern an effective deterrent to the deepening distrust and its  tragic consequences increasing for both law enforcement and the law-abiding as the lines between “subjects” and “suspects,” or “persons” and “perpetrators” becomes more blurred. And, I confess, there are several wife-beaters’ throats around which I would gladly have closed my hands had I not felt an obligation to their families and to my God (though not to them in those moments, even though they are still persons created to bear the image and likeness of their Creator).

We can choose to address conflict by the application of greater conflict. But we can do so only if we reject any possibility of redemptive purposes, of valuing any human’s personhood, and of seeing anything resembling cooperative communities. Where there is any hope, or even a not-entirely-despairing desire to see justice and mercy, then we must stop trying to address conflict by applying greater conflict.

Must we wait for peace until we all "Rest In Peace?" There's another way.

As a follower of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, I am called to a better solution than escalating conflict, division, and warfare. And Jesus lays out that solution for us. Therefore, as a Christian, I should be among those who are most “at peace,” not to mention being a “peace-maker.” And yet, as a theologically-conservative Evangelical I am numbered among those who have made a thriving industry of divisive denominationalism, doctrinal debate, and (without exaggeration) terrorizing territorialism. (e.g., “You could probably still go to heaven and attend a church like that. But wouldn’t you rather be sure by attending with true believers?”) The result? We Christians are not at peace, even among ourselves. We can hardly, then, be trusted to be peace-makers. What we offer is not a regularly-practiced protocol of conflict resolution and relational-reconciliation, although that is exactly what Jesus prescribed for us in Matthew 18:15-18.

What can we offer, then? For that, you’ll need to read one more post. Because Jesus Christ is the Prince of Peace, at least for loyal subjects of “His kingdom” in which there is “justice and righteousness.” But such blessings are possible only when “the government shall be upon His shoulders.” Thankfully, that’s the government that seeks to reign and rule over each of us, today.

Countdown to Christmas Conversations: An Invitation to Consider the Character of the Christ – Part Three – Eternal Father

Not eggs, light bulbs, or water/ice/steam. Indescribable.

This is the fourth in a series of posts discussing my belief in Jesus as the Messiah, in hopes of fostering understanding of my spirituality, and encouraging others to share their own perspectives on spirituality (defined broadly as the means by which we derive meaning from life and assign value to its elements). For more about why I find the discussion of our spirituality to be so important, especially as we countdown to Christmas, please see the initial post in the series. (Found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations.html)

I am a Trinitarian. That means I believe in one God, eternally existing in three persons. I also believe that we are created as human beings to bear the image and likeness of the Triune God, and that the primary expression of our nature is in our relationships with one another. We are interdependent, not just in a social-contract so that our needs are met without the collateral damage we would otherwise inflict, but through a fulfillment of our character and purpose that can only exist with and among one another.

Part of being a Trinitarian, however, is the acceptance of a differentiation among the persons of God. There are certain places in scripture where the unique roles of each of the three are suggested. (II Corinthians 13:14 is among the clearest, in my view.) And so, it would seem to mess with my neat compartmentalization of the three persons to refer to the Messiah (the Son of God, second person of the Trinity) as Eternal Father. But that is one of the titles applied in Isaiah 9:6. The attempts at reconciling the apparent dichotomy of Jesus Christ being both Father and Son fall into two categories, both of which, I believe, are valid. First, there are some who would explain that Jesus Christ is “the Father of Eternity.” By that they mean that He opens the way to eternal life for those who trust in Him alone for salvation.

"Let there be," and BANG, there was.

Second, though, is the explanation of Jesus Christ as the everlasting source and creator of everything. This is the view expressed in John 1:1-3 where it is “the Word” (which in John 1:14 is said to have become flesh, i.e., “incarnate,” Jesus Christ) through whom “all things came into being,” and without whom “nothing came into being that has come into being.”

As I’ve asked before, though, “Why is it so important to see Jesus Christ as Isaiah describes Him in each of these titles?” Here, as Eternal Father, the continuing relationship of Jesus Christ not only to Creation, but in continuing to create, is described by the Apostle Paul in Colossians 1:16-17. “For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.”

At least as impressive? Building every one of these, ever.

Therefore, the role of Jesus as Creator (eternally fathering new elements of the cosmos, and of my life and yours) is not limited to events of “long ago and far away.” When relationships need restored, or bodies need healed, or when it is time for each of us to be resurrected to life in His more direct presence, He is Eternal Father. When Spring begins to emerge from beneath the snow, renewing us for yet another season of growth and gain, He is Eternal Father. And when a new life, a human being, comes into being at conception, who creates that person to bear the image and likeness of their Creator? Jesus Christ, the Eternal Father.

Countdown to Christmas Conversations: An Invitation to Consider the Character of the Christ – Part Two – Mighty God

Is Baby Jesus the "Mighty God?" Well, He glows in the dark.

This is the third in a series of posts discussing my belief in Jesus as the Messiah, in hopes of fostering understanding of my spirituality, and encouraging others to share their own perspectives on spirituality (defined broadly as the means by which we derive meaning from life and assign value to its elements). For more about why I find the discussion of our spirituality to be so important, especially as we countdown to Christmas, please see the initial post in the series. (Found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations.html)

Like the Messiah’s title from Isaiah 9:6 that I discussed in my last post (Wonderful Counselor), the title Mighty God is another one in which both words are very important.

More glow-in-the-dark Baby Jesus - So, "Mighty God?"

The historical reality of a Rabbi named Jesus is all but universally accepted. The few who would deny or distort the historical record would never imagine doing so for other, less-well-documented historical figures. Seems like spiritual problem to me, but I can understand a reluctance to face the implications of His radically unsettling life and teachings. I have less sympathy, however, with those who would claim that the scripture teaches that the Messiah, Jesus Christ, was something other than “God Himself, come to redeem His people.”

Here it's just a flashlight beam, but still a nice effect.

One of the arguments they offer involves recasting the translation of the title. Instead of accepting Mighty God as a title of the Messiah, they point to the incorporation of Hebrew names for God into the names of particular human beings. For example, “Yah” (from Yahweh, one pronunciation of the name behind “Jehovah”) appears in names like Zechariah (meaning “Yahweh remembers”) and Hezekiah (meaning “Yahweh strengthens”). Likewise, “El” (from Elohim, the singularly plural term that strongly suggests one God eternally existing in three persons) finds its way into Daniel (“God is my judge”) and, combining both names, Elijah (meaning “Yahweh is my God”). Thus, instead of the Messiah coming as Mighty God, they would suggest that the Hebrew Gibbor-El, or El-Gibbor should be considered as a person’s name, just as the examples above would be. But the same term, used by the same prophet (e.g., Isaiah 10:21) clearly describes the divine person, rather than a human being. This Messiah, whom Isaiah is describing, is indeed God.

Here's where my mind goes with "Mighty God."

Why is it of such great importance that I understand Jesus as being God? With Anselm of Canterbury, I see myself owing a 100% obligation as a human being created to bear the image and likeness of God. But I have sinned, and fallen short of the glory God seeks to reveal in and through my life. Since I sinned (even if only at some point in the past), pursuing my own desires, fears, and aspirations, took away a portion of the time and energy I owe to my Creator. Therefore, I am in need of repaying that debt. But even if I were to fulfill every obligation today, I would have no time left over with which to make up for any previous deficiency. I owe a debt, in Anselm’s elegant explanation, that only I should pay, but that only God could pay. Enter Jesus Christ. He is the 100% human and 100% divine “propitiation,” that which satisfies my debt to God from the past, in the present, and throughout the future.

If it is important to see the Messiah as God, then it might seem redundant to emphasize Him as “mighty.” In fact, it is not the ability of Jesus Christ that I most frequently question. I struggle to remember that He does choose to love, to bring justice, to accomplish righteousness, and so much more in my life. For others, however, there is little question that He wants to love and bless them. They would raise the question of His ability to fulfill His own desires to protect and provide for those who come to Him. Thus, it is as essential as understanding Jesus’ divinity, that He is God, as it is to remind ourselves that He is the Mighty God.

Countdown to Christmas Conversations: An Invitation to Consider the Character of the Christ – Part One – Wonderful Counselor

St. Sigmund? Really?!

This is the second in a series of posts discussing my belief in Jesus as the Messiah, in hopes of fostering understanding of my spirituality, and encouraging others to share their own perspectives on spirituality (defined broadly as the means by which we derive meaning from life and assign value to its elements). For more about why I find the discussion of our spirituality to be so important, especially as we countdown to Christmas, please see the initial post in the series. (Found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/12/countdown-to-christmas-conversations.html)    

In Isaiah 9:6, God speaks through the prophet Isaiah about the Messiah, calling Him, among other things, “Wonderful Counselor.” Since I have clients who occasionally tell me that I am a “wonderful counselor,” it would seem that I should have some great insight into this. Of course, as a pastoral counselor who’s invested tens of thousands of dollars into a master’s degree for that purpose, you’d think I was a big supporter of “the therapeutic culture.” In both cases, you’d be wrong.

As a pastoral counselor, I find myself agreeing with much of the criticism leveled at “the therapeutic culture” that can crowd out more healthy forms of discipleship and ministry. It would be easy to blame the clients, of course. And often, they do want to discover external causes for their situations and circumstances. Or they want to assign someone else as the “client-by-proxy,” so that I tell the person in my office how they can “fix” the others in their lives who cause all their problems for them. Of course, some recognize their need for counseling, primarily so they can go back to those for whom they have caused problems and say, “Look, I’m going to counseling. What else do you expect me to do?”

"How's that workin' for ya?"

And that’s where the problem usually comes up. I expect my clients to do something. Homework, usually. And at least participation and cooperation in working toward the changes they claim they’d like to see in their lives. But that’s where I find myself blaming bad clients for my role as a bad counselor. Sometimes I find myself working outside my areas of expertise. (Clients “beyond my scope of practice” should be referred—more quickly than is allowed by my desire to help everyone.) I want to hold onto some clients who are doing well, just because it’s encouraging enough to balance out those who seem, at times, to be going nowhere in their counseling. And then, there’s my stereotypes, prejudices, personal preferences, and other mental and emotional baggage that keeps me from recognizing what a client needs as efficiently and effectively as I might.

No place to lay His head. No black leather fainting couch.

Worst of all, when ministry takes on a “therapeutic” modal, people become dependent upon a one-on-one, crisis-oriented approach to their walk with Christ. A thriving counseling practice, in my case, has as much to do with a lack of small-group ministry in the church I serve as it does with my excellence (or co-dependence) as a counselor. When occasional, or even long-term counseling takes the place of active participation in “the means of grace” (worship gatherings, group study and prayer, community-service ministry, etc.), we risk becoming something other than the body of Christ, ministering to one another in all but those cases where specialized focus is needed.

So, I’m not a big supporter of the therapeutic culture in our churches. And I don’t have great insights into everything it means for Jesus Christ to be “Wonderful Counselor.” But I do have a strong opinion about what that title doesn’t mean.

Not quite what Isaiah is talking about.

Jesus is not like other counselors “only much better.” He is not a counselor who happens to be wonderful. As Wonderful Counselor, He counsels by wonders, signs, miracles, and the ultimate miracle of restoring, renewing, and redeeming human beings from not only some of the consequences of sin’s damage in the world and in us. He brings us to the trust for the provision, protection, and personhood that only He can give. If all my clients could see who they were designed to be (created to bear the image and likeness of God), how that became broken (through the damage of sin in the world and in them), and the incredible lengths to which Christ has gone to bring them to the “shalom” (wholeness) of that image and likeness being restored? Well, then I’d have room in the schedule for so many others who need to find the same wholeness that they would have. And so, I’ll keep trying to be “not so bad a counselor” in hopes of introducing more and more to the Wonderful Counselor.

Countdown to Christmas Conversations: An Invitation to Consider the Character of the Christ – Introduction

Countdown to conversation, with or without candy.

I get what they mean. “Happy Holidays – Enjoy a Blessed Season of Peace and Understanding.” But it seems to me that if the holidays are to be a season of peace, then it would seem prudent to avoid any actual understanding, especially—as the saying goes—regarding religion and politics.

It’s understandable. We avoid discussing our most deeply held beliefs. Why risk the potential for frustration, misunderstanding, and emotional pain? This isn’t the time of year to damage our relationships, so let’s not try anything that might deepen those relationships, okay?

But what if we did? What if we talked about the ways we derive meaning from life? What if we shared with others the value we place on the various aspects of our lives? That’s what spirituality is about.  Even if we don’t have specific religious, doctrinal categories to call them, spirituality is about the meaning of life and the value we place on its elements. It’s the largest part of what makes me me. And if I claim that we have a relationship, shouldn’t you know what that meaning and those values are? Shouldn’t I know the same about you?

If this is where you're spending Christmas...

Of course, if we’re already arguing over whether turkey or ham (or standing rib roast) should be the main course, or whether mashed potatoes come in a box (they don’t) or cranberry sauce in a can (it does), then it might be better to wait until we’re drowsy from the tryptophan (because “turkey” is the right answer to the question above) before we jump into the spirituality discussion.

Still, my hope is that at some point during the holidays you will choose to take the risk and open the door to a deeper relationship with your friends and family. Toward figuring out a way to do that, I’ll go first. In the next few posts, I want to share with you a part of how I derive meaning from life and assign value to its elements. Many of you already know that a great deal of my spirituality centers of Jesus Christ. You may even have heard me define the gospel: we trust in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ as both necessary and sufficient to restore our broken relationship with our Creator, God, and to receive eternal life. I won’t go into all the details of that right now. But there are some aspects of what I understand Jesus Christ to be that might help you understand better who I am and why.

Sometimes it's understandable that you want to eat quietly. But...

In Isaiah 9:6-7, God speaks through the prophet Isaiah and says that the Messiah to be born will fulfill five roles, four of which He names as being “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.” The fifth has to do with the government being on His shoulders, but we’ll get to that in due time.

I also want to invite you to comment on whatever aspects of your own spirituality you might choose to share, whether by name or anonymously, in the comment section below. I find that questions from others often help me think through parts of my own spirituality more clearly. But I also enjoy seeing how others put theirs together, even if they come from very different perspectives and build with very different pieces than I work together in mine. So, thanks in advance for simply reading my thoughts, and special gratitude to those of you who will choose to share as well.

Why Ask? Because Sometimes the Question is Clearer than the Answer.

Jay Westbrook, portrait of his wife, Nancy, and the dogs.

Jay Westbrook recently led a session during the 2014 conference of the California Hospice and Palliative Care Association (CHAPCA). (You can read more about Jay's journey here: http://bigstory.ap.org/article/after-thousands-deaths-hospice-nurse.) As part of his presentation, he shared statistics relating to how patients would prefer to receive information from their care providers. Among the study results he shared was that 70% of elderly Koreans would prefer that their eldest son be the one to receive and then convey the details necessary. Later in the presentation he asked how we would convey bad news, for example, about the diagnosis, treatment results, and/or prognosis for an elderly Korean man. Some of us congratulated ourselves on our excellent short-term memory and began to explain a process by which the eldest son, or child, would be identified, contacted, and informed, all within the boundaries of HIPAA’s privacy regulations. After allowing us to work through the related issues, he asked, “But how do you know if that’s how the patient wants to get their information? What if they’re not part of the 70%? Because that statistic means that 30% of elderly Koreans want to get their news in some other way.”

During the exercise, I remember feeling a bit smug myself. I was recalling my studies under Jason Kim (a Korean pastor and church leader whose dissertation explored generational issues in the Korean church). Dr. Kim’s doctoral supervisor had been Paul G. Hiebert. I am indebted, as are the congregations and communities I have subsequently served, to both Dr. Kim and Dr. Hiebert for a number of things. The most influential factors are from Dr. Hiebert’s Understanding Folk Religion, which Dr. Kim applied to our tendency to make assumptions in various ministry venues.

Those issues have been especially helpful in two of my current ministry contexts. As a Hospice chaplain, for example, I sometimes deal with expectations and stereotypes about our patients, often based on evidence as scant as just one word. In the course of our admittance procedures, a patient may identify themselves as “Catholic,” or “Baptist,” or “Buddhist,” or any number of other labels. As a chaplain who frequently has no direct access to patients (for the reasons behind this, see my post, “Hospice Chapliancy – Equally Available and Avoided by Both Adherents and Atheists,” found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/10/hospice-chaplaincy-equally-available.html), I am occasionally asked “What do (insert spiritually identifying label here) believe about (insert ethical quandary or spiritual care issue here)?” so that our staff can provide appropriate support to the patient and family in those areas.

What Drs. Kim and Hiebert alerted me to, though, is that the label one chooses may not be as communicative as we imagine. Those who attend even the most rigidly dogmatic examples of particular religious traditions are often influenced by a number of other, outside, and perhaps incompatible beliefs and behaviors. We tend to compile and compress those influences in such a way that our religious preferences and practices may not reflect “what (we) believe about (whatever),” but a uniquely individual perspective instead.

Not a bad list to start with.

It is my primary ministry context where this factor is most acutely felt. In an independent, non-denominational community church (see www.glenburnchurch.com for some idea of who we are), visitors often ask us to label our particular tradition, branch, denomination, or other theological designation. Likewise, we sometimes hear from those attending that they are (label), as though that single word carries specific meaning for us. It doesn’t. And that is a very good thing. One of the reasons that we practice “theology in community” is that it can be both a means and an end to deepening our relationship with God through Christ. Learning how others understand beliefs and behaviors, both ours and their own, leads us into broadening and deepening our own understanding, also of theirs and our own, as well.

(This isn't how you should ask the questions, by the way.)

And so, during his conference presentation, I anticipated Mr. Westbrook’s question, and answer. Because the question “How do you know how a patient wants to receive their information?” should prompt the same answer as “How do you know what a Christian believes about baptism?” or “What does a Hindu believe about reincarnation?” or “Why does an atheist believe that there is no god?” The answer, I believe, should always be: “I don’t know. Ask the patient, the Christian, the Hindu, the atheist, or whomever else you want to know about.”

So, even when I am the one asking myself, “How do you know anything about others?” I try to remember: “I don’t know. So ask them.”

Love Your Enemies – Even ISIS. Even the CIA. Even “Christians” who hate their neighbor.

I have been contemplating Paul Louis Metzger’s recent post, “Who Is to Blame for the ‘Jihad Generation’?” (It can be found here: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/uncommongodcommongood/2014/09/who-is-to-blame-for-the-jihad-generation/.) He notes the increasing attraction of Western-raised Muslims to ISIS, resulting from what Afzal Amin identifies in this way: “‘young Muslims in inner-city Britain have been left disenfranchised by politics and let down by imams and other community leaders.’” Dr. Metzger sees this trend as relevant for United States youths who likewise experience “disillusionment and distress over a lack of opportunity to flourish as honorable members of democratic and capitalistic societies,” and he recommends that “these same societies must become intentional about inspiring hope that involves deconstructing exclusive structures and fostering widespread ownership.”

Metzger is uncomfortably on-point about this. But only momentarily. It is when he suggests that Muslim leaders need “to connect better with youths to make sure they are well-adapted in their Western cultural contexts” that he drifts into parochialism—the tendency to focus on one’s own culture and community, often missing key contrasts and connections with those of other cultures and communities. This is indeed strange territory for Dr. Metzger, given his intense commitment to intercultural dialogue and diplomacy. But where those concepts collide with the boundaries Western culture, he (I would imagine reluctantly) allows that “the current crisis involving ISIS requires military intervention,” even as “efforts in diplomacy must never cease.” He adds, “I cannot imagine governments negotiating with ISIS.”

ISIS and other organizations arise as products of their culture, just as organizations which better fit our Western sensibilities do. We are to value all humans are created in the image and likeness of God, even those who utterly reject our Trinitarian theology and its implications for loving interrelationships of human persons. The Trinitarian stands somewhere between the isolating individualism of the West and the uncompromising conformity demanded elsewhere. In defense of those intent on defeating diversity, even through persecution and murder, consider communities where resources have not only been historically scarce, but where whatever meager supply has been available in the past is routinely exploited for the sake of the personal luxuries of those in the West. Just as we are called to love the excessively individualistic religious consumers wreaking havoc in the North American Christian Church, we are likewise called to love those whose enthusiastically enforced conformity offends our fondness for casual diversity. In both cases, our love for those persons within each, and all other cultures, requires us to seek diplomacy, not warfare. And yes, even with ISIS.

I am unapologetically extremist in this matter. I understand how ludicrous it seems to allow a case to be made for ISIS as a cultural expression of a group diverse from our social standards, and seeking to conform (or eradicate) all others to theirs. The practices of ISIS are imagined to be so diametrically opposed to our own beliefs and behaviors, as to be indefensible. And yet, our own expressions of our “Christian nation’s” cultural bias do not bear close scrutiny.

Today, on a  nationally syndicated Christian radio program, I listened for as long as I could (probably ten minutes or so) to an impassioned rationalization in favor of Enhanced Interrogation Techniques. Even as the presenters sought to differentiate between that euphemism and “torture,” they began to use “the ‘T’ word” for those practices in which physical pain and suffering are inflicted for the purpose of eliciting information from “detainees,” another euphemism made necessary by the indistinct legal category that is neither “arrested” nor “captured.” These “techniques” have been, according to the representatives claiming to speak for a national Christian lobbying and litigation organization, both effective and necessary, as well as legitimate and appropriate. Their primary justification for these acts rested on two principles. First, that the torture of those detained, abducted, or otherwise secured by American interrogators, was intended (and, in hindsight, effective) toward “saving American lives.” Second, they argued that “Muslims believe” that if one has held out so far as possible before divulging information, there is no condemnation awaiting them, even if they betray their compatriots. Thus, “those people” respond well to torture, and we are, therefore, justified in using it so that the lives of “our people” may be spared. Or so the presenters argued.

The question we must ask about these organizations (particularly ISIS and the U.S. Government, but indeed all others who have sought to rationalize their heinous behaviors as “necessary” and “justifiable” by whatever standards they draw from their culture) is this: “Are we going to seek diplomacy among diverse cultures, or are we going to seek the destruction of other cultures in order to enforce our own conformity through applying a ‘convert or die’ warfare model?” Before you object that this is a false dichotomy, that there are other options between, try to imagine the sliding scale along that imaginary spectrum between diplomacy and destruction. What a third option must ask is not whether, but to what extent we will “do evil that good may come.” (In Romans 3:8, the Apostle Paul suggests that this is a very bad idea.)

Among the most effective rationalizations, of course, is that “there’s no reasoning with ‘those people,’” especially since, “they want to kill us, you know.” Throughout the New Testament, there are examples that prove that rule. Jesus’ reasoning with Pilate, Stephen’s reasoning with the Jewish leaders, and many other instances show that logic often fails. But there are also exceptions that prove the rule as well. On occasion, in fact, God intervenes to turn the rule on its head. The gospel of Jesus Christ is about loving one’s neighbor by extending God’s grace to them, as much as it is about loving God in response to His gracious extension of neighborliness with us. (This is a pun based on Metzger’s Christology, in which the incarnation—that Christ came in human flesh—can be said to be an instance of “when love comes to town.”) That those neighbors include those who wish us harm? Jesus’ opinion was that we are still responsible to love them. Can His followers opt to do otherwise?

Again, influenced by Metzger, and his co-author Brad Harper (Exploring Ecclesiology is one of several places you’ll find the concept discussed, but Metzger’s Connecting Christ puts the practice squarely in context with significant examples of doing so with leaders of other faiths), I fully agree that Christians are responsible to adopt the Apostle’s example and do not go around our Christian convictions, nor stop short at our convictions, but to go through our convictions to engage those outside the faith—even if where we’re going through those convictions is into the hands of those whose greatest aspiration is that we die, immediately and directly as a result of our beliefs and behaviors.

The solution for the Jihad Generation is not to be found in making Western democracy and capitalism more attractive than ISIS. The only hope we are offered as Christians is found in following the example of cruciform, sacrificial servanthood, loving even those who hate, despitefully use, and even kill us. 

If you do, then it should be for far more important reasons. Still, I would support your decision, whichever way you go.

The Annoying Assurance of Evangelicals – “Believe what you want to believe, but how dare you insist that others believe it, too?”

In two previous posts on Evangelicalism, I have defined what I understand to be my responsibility as “an Evangelical” in contrast to those who would apply that term to something entirely different. (That post can be found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/11/when-you-say-evangelical-youve-said-lot.html.) I then addressed the implications of being Evangelical as it pertains to the unique, singular, and exclusive stance regarding the gospel of Jesus Christ, while still pursuing conversation and understanding with those outside the ranks of that designation, and beyond the boundaries of Christianity as well. (It’s here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/11/evangelicals-evangelize-but-that-word.html.)

"Of course I'm right. Even the real killer can't disagree."

In both posts, I am very sure that I come across as being very sure of my position. This is, in part, due to my conviction that inviting discussion requires a clear statement of my position, in order to encourage others to state their position(s) with equal clarity. But it is also due to my conviction that, not to put too fine a point on it, I am right.

How can I presume such a confidence, one easily mistaken for an air of superiority? As an Evangelical (in what I think is the highest sense of the word), in emphasizing a high value on God’s written communication, I cannot escape a Trinitarian and Incarnational perspective. Interpersonal relationships and the benefits God makes available through Jesus Christ are paramount to my life and ministry. Among many implications of this commitment: placing a very high value on every other human person is essential to my practical devotion to Jesus Christ. As Christ’s servant, I demonstrate my devotion by serving others. Yet to be concerned for other persons is to be concerned for evangelism in the assumption that it leads others to the best possible fulfillment of the life for which they were created. And so, my focus and investment is not entirely about benefitting the other human persons with whom I seek understanding and relationship.

"Of course I'm right. Why else wouldn't I explain myself."

If I am, first and foremost, a friend of Jesus Christ, I necessarily share His interests. As Creator, He wants to have the relationship with each person for which we were designed. As Redeemer He wants to see the effects of restoration and renewal from the brokenness of our sin and its damage upon the world in which we live (including our damage by and to one another). He seeks for a “born-again” regeneration to be accepted by every person, which He has demonstrated through His incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection, ascension, and continued intercession.

But where do I fit into all that? I am, admittedly and badly, broken by sin’s damage in the world, and by my own participation in that damage (as perpetrator and as casualty, predator at least as much as prey). How could I presume to prescribe an improvement in belief and behavior for anyone else? I find my answer in II Corinthians 4:5. Being called by Christ means I am the servant of all other persons, seeking the very best for them amidst their present circumstances and toward their ultimate fulfillment, and that can only be accomplished in and through the gospel.

"You're welcome to take this road whenever you choose."

Clearly, though, there is still the valid objection that all this puts me in the position of “knowing what’s best” for another person. And, because I do hold the beliefs described above, I accept those charges and plead guilty. But I also accept that my perceptions of the implications and applications of those beliefs are uniquely filtered and colored by my own experience and perspective. Therefore, I try to encourage others to share their reactions and/or responses to those beliefs, in order to understand what I believe God to be doing in their lives, whether their beliefs coincide with mine or not.

My purpose, then, is not to validate my perspective, position, or passion for the gospel. Neither do I ask others to validate their beliefs to me. But I do hope to learn how to more clearly communicate the gospel, the whole gospel, and nothing but the gospel. It would be too clever, but not inaccurate, to end here with “So, help me, God!” So, I will add that I intend to continue those efforts by learning more from those who want only part of the gospel, or something beyond the gospel, or anything but the gospel. In order to communicate at that level, however, I must be willing to hear others communicate their beliefs clearly as well. Only then might we overcome the misperceptions, misunderstandings, and miscommunications that not only distinguish our beliefs from one another, but which prevent us from pursuing even our essential common interests.

Evangelicals Evangelize – But that word, too, means more than you may think it means.

In a recent post to his blog (“Bait and Switch” at “Uncommon God; Common Good” found here: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/uncommongodcommongood/2012/05/bait-and-switch/), Paul Louis Metzger responds to those who would assume that any commitment by Evangelical Christians toward other persons is merely a function of their desire for recognition on account of their success in evangelism.

 To be an Evangelical means to do...what?

I would add another factor in the equation. Some with whom I am acquainted seem desperate to validate their own beliefs by convincing others of their perspective on the truth. Failing to convince others, those engaging in these attempts will then turn to those, they believe, are already convinced. Thus we often seek to “evangelize” those who are already Evangelicals. It’s called “preaching to the choir,” a reference to pastors who punctuate their sermons by turning to the loft behind them and asking, “Can I get an Amen?!” Sadly, what has frequently become strident argumentation with others has been replayed to me by otherwise kind and compassionate Christians, ridiculing the beliefs of those who disagree, even with minor doctrines, even from within our own Christian traditions. It is sometimes as though I, as a pastor, must ally myself with a particular position in order to reassure the reporter of their relational security with Jesus Christ.

In those conversations, as well as those with others outside my particular heritage and tradition, and especially with those outside the Christian faith, I confess that my interests are not only those of mere curiosity and/or diplomatic dialogue. My concern for other persons is always framed by my desire to see the very best for them in their current circumstances, their continuing development, and their eternal destiny. As with Dr. Metzger, this is part of what makes me “an Evangelical.” (Note: that term, for me, carries implications of both “guilt-by-association” and “pride-of-ownership”—depending upon one’s definition of “Evangelical”—which point I belabor in the first post in this series, found here: http://deathpastor.blogspot.com/2014/11/when-you-say-evangelical-youve-said-lot.html)

Whatever you do is likely to be criticized. (It belongs on the counter.)

I would hold that an Evangelical is responsible to carefully study scripture as the basis for the discussions I would qualify as “doing theology in community.” That discussion must include the depths of twenty centuries from our historical community as well as a breadth of sources within the faith today. In order to communicate as clearly as possible, the current cultural and social realities of our day must also be as fully understood as possible. This requires dialogue with those outside the ranks of Christians, and certainly beyond the narrower designation of Evangelicals—and I can understand why they may not wish to talk as openly with me as I would prefer.

There will always be, for me, two key components to these conversations. First, I need to understand others’ perspectives in order to more clearly communicate (and even refine, as necessary) my own positions. Second, I seek to more clearly communicate my perspective so that others may have opportunity to accept or reject an accurate representation of the beliefs and behaviors of Christ’s gospel, instead of the accretions and adulterations that the gospel regularly attracts, even in my own presentation of it.

Again, this view is influenced by my deep dissatisfaction with so much of the misrepresentation of the gospel, especially by those who seek to abscond with the term Evangelical as a label for their socio-political manipulation, exploitation, and oppression—but even in that, I would hope to persuade you of my position’s accuracy. Why? Well, you’ll have to read about that in the next post.

When You Say “Evangelical,” You’ve Said a Lot of Things So Many Others Say. (In other words, “You keep using that word. But I do not think it means what you think it means.”)

More than a few blurred distinctions.

When You Say “Evangelical,” You’ve Said a Lot of Things So Many Others Say. (In other words, “You keep using that word. But I do not think it means what you think it means.”)

What’s in a word? For those of us seeking to communicate clearly, too often the answer is “far too much.” For example, when the word is “Evangelical” the variety of definitions is so diverse as to make the word nearly meaningless. That has not always been the case, but today there needs to be some clarification.

"Assumes facts not in evidence."

Many confuse the term “Evangelical” as representing at least a portion of “the religious right,” those who crusade for a more comfortable and convenient social environment in which to pursue their narrow view of “Christian culture” amidst a “sanctified” society. Try as they might, however, the term does not fit, leaving the would-be Ecclesial Emperors without the clothes in which they would cloak beliefs and behaviors that are entirely incompatible with the Evangelical label.

You should know, though, that I do have a dog in this fight. Being “a theologically conservative Christian holding a high view of scripture and a subsequent insistence on salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone” (I believe that to be an acceptable definition of “Evangelical.”) requires me to reject two of the most prevalent practices of “the religious right.”

First, and worst, the politically-motivated are looking for such “Evangelicals” as will arrogantly augment, if not entirely eliminate Christians’ dependence upon answered prayer. They preach that we should pursue, in addition or instead, mass-market fund-raising approaches to accomplish our social-engineering goals through adversarial litigation and lobbying for legislation.

John Hancock did not sign The Gospel.

The methods are bad enough. But what if they were successful? I reject not only the prescribed means, but the ends toward which these efforts are directed. The politically conservative among us offer Evangelicals a false utopia. This paradise would be devoid of dissent against whatever they define as their distinctive doctrines. They would prohibit the disaster of allowing individual disobedience, lest it lead to social dysfunction. And they would suggest they could defeat the effects of depravity by destroying its source: the availability of temptation. But God did not send His Son into the world to eradicate the dissenters, the dysfunctional, the disobedient, or even the depraved. The Son’s calling, and ours, is to alleviate the suffering, illuminate the escape route, and welcome those who would join us in doing the same.

Why do I reject the utopia offered by the religious right? Because it’s the wrong goal, pursued along the wrong path. Religiously-enforced behavioral constraints (i.e., emphasizing moral behavior and ritual participations as the core elements of “Christianity”) are as ineffective an end as the means to establishing them are unbiblical. And for an Evangelical (so far as I understand what the term was intended to mean), that is inconceivable.

More to follow shortly.