Christian living, religion, World Religions

Christian Reflections on Kabbalah and the Hasidim

Kabbalah has a long tradition, with origins stretching back at least a century prior to Jesus.  One influential leader was the Medieval Rabbi Isaac Luria, known as Ari (the Lion), who lived in the 1500s.  The Ari said that at creation the divine light filled ten vessels, some of which shattered under the weight of such glory.  Fragments of light from these shattered vessels scattered throughout creation, along with fragments of darkness.  It is now the responsibility of humans to help end chaos by gathering together these divine sparks of holiness in an effort to help repair the world (tikkun olam).

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This is very similar to John’s view of the pre-incarnate Logos, the Word that became flesh in Jesus (1:14).  He was the light that was coming into the world to enlighten every human (1:9).  John (or Jesus) even said that, when the full light comes (the good news of Messiah Jesus), those who have lived by the truth (the light they have received) will step into the light so all can see the works they have done were because of the Logos (3:19-21).  Second century apologist Justin Martyr further developed John’s Logos Christology in a way similar to the Ari’s scattered fragments of light.  Justin said the seeds of the Logos are scattered throughout creation.  Wherever we discover truth (or goodness) in the world—whether in the Bible, in culture, or even in another religion—it is there because it is a seed of the Logos.

Unlike the Ari’s view that there were only ten vessels for this light, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4 that, through the gospel of Jesus, the light of creation shines in the darkness of our hearts.  We do not need to fear that we are damaged “jars of clay,” however.  The stress cracks, the flaws, even the brokenness of our lives—they are all simply opportunities for the light of Christ to stream out of us.  In our weakness, all can see that his light and life are the true source of our strength and our hope (2Co 12:7-10).  Elsewhere, Paul tells us the world groans for the sons and daughters of God (that is, the kings and queens of the kingdom) to be revealed.  Creation cries out for us to be ever more conformed to the image of Jesus, so that our actions reflect his and we join him as co-creators in the work of restoring the world (Rom 8:14-30) and redeeming the beauty and truth scattered throughout all cultures (Rev 5:8-10).

While the Ari saw this gathering of the light centered in the individual, through ascetic practices, prayer, and Torah observance, two centuries later Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer took these ideas in a different direction.  Called the Baal Shem Tov (Master of the Good Name, abbreviated Besht) by his followers, he led many Jews to embrace Hasidism (ecstatic piety) in the midst of anti-Jewish riots and severe poverty.  Without denying Torah observance, rituals, and rules, the Besht emphasized the importance of embracing the inner, mystical Torah.  This loving embrace of God could come from any Jew, whether they were a Talmud scholar or not.  Because God is immanent, he taught we can worship God through our everyday actions, whenever these acts are done in joyful thanks to God and loving service to others. 

As Elie Wiesel notes, the Besht took the Ari’s idea of gathering the scattered sparks and turned it into a communal experience.  When we are isolated and alone, we can study the Torah and observe it well, but all that is nothing if it is not for our neighbor, for our community (Souls on Fire, 32-33).  Just as embers die out when separated but kindle hot and bright when gathered together, the Besht emphasized the need for community.

Certainly, Christians can hear the call of Paul to love one another and overcome selfish ambition (Phil 2:1-5), as well as Paul’s emphasis that gifts are nothing unless they are used in service for the community (1Co 13).  We can also agree that everyday tasks can be acts of worship, for the most mundane tasks of life are transformed into moments of worship by Jesus.  The drudgery of walking along a road became a new way of thinking that caused two disciples’ hearts to burn (Lk 24:13-32).  The daily task of drawing water from a well became one woman’s opportunity to find living water (Jn 4:1-30).  A routine task of mending fishing nets became a lifelong calling to follow Jesus (Mk 4:21-22).  The same Jesus who encountered these people is living and active in each of us through his gift of the Spirit (Eph 3:14-21).  Paul’s invitation to give our lives as living sacrifices is not a call to grandious actions (Rom 12:1-2).  We are to consider every moment a moment of prayer, a moment of service, just as he sang praises in a dark prison cell after being beaten with rods (Ac 16:22-25).  But where the Besht seemed to limit this community to fellow Jews, Jesus pushes us far beyond our own community.  He calls us to love enemies (Mt 5:43-48) and reconcile divisions (Col 3:11-17).

So let us be co-creators with God, making the world a better place.  In humility, we should love our neighbors and rejoice in our labor.  May we pray that God’s kingdom come on earth, and may we do our part to bring all things under the feet of King Jesus.  â€śLet your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Mt 5:16). 

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Christian living, religion, World Religions

Christian Reflections on the Tirthankara

In Jainism, the central figures are twenty-four Tirthankaras.  The word Tirthankara means “ford-maker,” one who creates a path through the river of death and rebirth (samsara) to the shores of Jain heaven (siddha-sila).  They are seen not as gods or redeemer figures, but as pioneers who discovered and taught the path that all Jina (conquerers) can follow.  Jains revere the statues of Tirthankaras, they meditate on them, reflecting on their life and manners in order to discover how to follow after them.  Mahavira, the final Tirthankara, was the son of a king, who renounced his royal luxuries and adopted poverty and an ascetic lifestyle to attain liberation from the cycle of death and rebirth.

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Jesus’ life is similar in many respects to Mahavira’s.  Like Mahavira, Jesus was the son of a king.  But his father was not the king of a realm in India; his father is the King of Loka (the universe).  Like Mahavira, who renounced his plush life for a humble life of homeless poverty and insult, we are told that Jesus, “did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant” (Phil 2:6-7).  Both men had a small group of disciples with whom they wandered the countryside, preaching and teaching parables about “the beauty of poverty, of spirit, of meekness, of righteousness, of mercy, of purity, of peace, and of patient suffering. . . [and] how much greater a thing it was ‘to be’ than ‘to do’, and how perilous ‘to have'” (Stevenson, The Heart of Jainism, 1915, 291-92).  Whereas the Tirthankaras pioneered a path through the river of samara, Jesus alone has the most accurate knowledge of how to ford the river beyond this life, for he alone has made the journey twice, from heaven to earth and from earth to heaven.  Therefore, he is the True Tirthankara.  Through his double-crossing, he is not only a pioneer but also a perfecter of this crossing (Heb 12:2).  In fact, he himself is the Tirtha, the Ford (John 14:6).

A key concept of Jainism is that we do not see all of reality.  There is a manypointedness (anekantavada) to ultimate reality that is far beyond our human comprehension.  Christianity has always viewed the cross of Christ as a manypointed act beyond our full understanding.  It is sacrifice, substitution, ransom, satisfaction, victory, example.  One view of the cross is the moral influence theory of Peter Abelard.  Abelard saw the cross as the great demonstration of God’s love that enkindles a similar response of love within us.  This is similar to the Jain approach to the Tirthankaras.  As Paul Dundas notes,

Ancient tradition . . . is emphatic that worship of the fordmakers does not actually elicit a response from them but rather brings about an internal, spiritual purification in the worshipper[.] . . . So, while it might be the case that worship destroys karma, such an effect is regarded as having been brought about by the inner transformation which worship effects.

Paul Dundas (The Jains, 1992, 180)

How much greater Jesus is to both inspire and respond? A scribal addition to the Jain text Tattvarthadhigama (1.1) states, “I bow to him who is the guide on the path to liberation, the destroyer of mountains of karmas and the Knower of the principles of the universe, so that I may attain these qualities belonging to him.”  This could be a prayer of any Christian to Jesus, “the pioneer of their salvation [who was made] perfect through what he suffered” and so he can now “bring many sons and daughters to glory” (Heb 2:10).  Although Jains see the Tirthankara as an example and not a redeemer, still they can pray, “Lord, you’ve become almighty, omniscient.  I want to be just like you.  Give me the power and the wisdom to do this, so I can leave this world and attain salvation” (Salgia, Areopagus 7:3, 1994, 36).  This almost sounds like Paul’s admonition to Christians to continue working out their salvation with fear and trembling by becoming more and more like Jesus, who has been exalted to the highest place (Phil 2:1-13).

While Christians affirm that Jesus was fully human and learned obedience from his suffering (Heb 5:8-9) and that through this he has made a ford to the shores of liberation (moksha), we cannot agree with Jains that there is not a higher being who can assist us with attaining this liberation.  The cross has always been a confrontational object to every group of humans, whether as “a stumbling block to Jews, foolishness to Gentiles,” (1Co 1:23) or weakness to Jains.  The supreme ethic of Jainism is ahimsa, non-violence to all creatures.  The second is aparigraha (non-attachment), because the chief problem that keeps me (my jiva or “self”) from attaining liberation is “attachment”: the desire for things or longing for relationships.  Yet the story of the cross reveals a desire for own ways that is achieved through violence.  We humans put to death the very one who came from heaven to reveal the ford back to the Father, the path to the shores of liberation.  All of us—Jain or not—in one way or another have violently rejected his forgiveness and love.  We have clung to the self, to our own selfish desires.

The resurrection, however, reveals Jesus as the Conqueror (Jina) over sin, death, rebirth, and any other enemy that keeps us from liberation.  Through his rising from the dead, Jesus demands recognition not only as the human Tirthankara of Tirthankaras but also as the Living Kara, the Creator of the universe.  Anyone who would follow this one to the shores of moksha must be willing to fully practice aparigraha by letting go of that to which she or he is most attached: the self and its preservation.  “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.  Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit” (Gal 5:24-25).

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Christian living, World Religions

Christian Reflections on the Zen Oxherder

There is a Zen Buddhist story at least 1,000 years old of an oxherder and an ox, told in ten short poems. In summary, the oxherder expends energy searching for the ox but not appreciating what he sees around him. He eventually begins to see traces of the ox and ultimately spots him. After catching the ox, he tames it and masters it sufficiently to ride it home. At rest at home, the ox disappears, for there is no longer a need for whip or rope. Soon, all merges and disappears–ox, whip, rope, and oxherder. Then, the world as it originally was comes back into focus. All is as it always had been but never perceived or appreciated before. Finally, the oxherder himself returns to his community, no longer searching or seeking what he thinks he does not have but understanding what he has doesn’t matter for he has always had what he needed. He is now free to be a blessing to others. He is content and joyful despite the circumstances of the moment.

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The story is imagined in a set of ten pictures:

A few observations from this story help me better understand my Christian faith. The first set of images is about self-centered pursuits (sin) or trying to master your own life (salvation by works). The oxherder strives to win and tame the ox, yet it is only when he begins to become one with the ox that he eventually learns to release his grasp on life and desire to control his situation. As the ox disappears into himself and then he himself disappear, he discovers that it is not his works that matter. He now sees the world with new eyes as gift and blessing. He returns to society with the selfless service we each are called to in Christ (Eph 2:3-10; 4:32).

The most important image of the ten is the empty circle. It is the act of renouncing sin and self to embrace the gift of God.  It is becoming united with Christ and understanding that this world is impermanent, but God is all in all.  It is being united with Christ and saying with the Pioneer and Perfecter of our faith, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Lk 23:46; Heb 12:2-3).  It is fulfilling Paul’s confession that we have died with Christ and no longer live (Gal 2:20).

The empty circle helps me understand the presence of God in the ark of the covenant.  The mercy seat, the very presence of God on earth for the Israelites, was an empty space between the wings of two cherubim that sat upon the lid of the ark.  God was not in the ark or the cherubim.  God was in the empty space.  The most real portion of the ark was the spot where no “thing” actually was.  The people wanted something tangible, something they could point to and say, “There is God!”  So God gave them something tangible, the ark of the covenant.  Yet as they pondered Moses’s teaching about the ark and the mercy seat, they realized “there” was not the ark, nor the cherubim, nor any “thing.”  “There” was the emptiness found between the two cherubim, below their outstretched wings, and above the lid of the ark.  God was teaching them that he was spirit, that this empty space was more real than the matter that surrounded it (Ex 25:19-22).

The empty circle is also the empty tomb.  Without the emptiness of that tomb, Christianity is a dead religion (1Cor 15:13-19).  There is no return to the source.  There is no entering the market with open hands.  But through the empty tomb, we discover the secret of contentment (Phil 4:11-13) so that we can seek the needs of others rather than our own needs (Phil 2:1-11).  Only when we are empty can we be truly filled (Matt 5:6).  Let us yearn for the day when God’s will is fully done on earth, when we fully empty ourselves to be and do for one another, for in that day “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of [the glory of] the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Isa 11:9; Hab 2:14).

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Christian living, World Religions

Christian Reflections on 330 Million Gods

Hinduism has multiple gods and goddesses as objects of worship (polytheism).  This polytheism bothers many Christians, who affirm the Shema, “The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Dt 6:4).  The Hindu idols of these gods and goddesses also concerns Christians because of the commandment not to make idols nor bow down to them in worship (Dt 5:8-9).  Rather than focus on such negative concerns, however, I would like to think about how this issue can help us better understand the Bible.

Hindu polytheism, along with a statement within the Vedas about “33 koti gods,” leads many to say India is a land of 330 million gods.  The Sanskrit word “koti” could mean 33 crore (10 million, at the time the largest Indian numerical unit), but the word has also been interpreted as “supreme” or “types.”  Regardless whether koti means crore, the saying emphasizes both Hinduism’s polytheism and elucidates the philosophical belief that all these gods and goddesses are but manifestations of the one supreme God.  God is so vast, so infinite, that humans cannot comprehend him.  And so, like looking at light through a prism, each god or goddess is a manifestation of some attribute or facet of the one non-personal, incomprehensible God.  To put it differently, no one god or goddess manifests the fullness of deity of the one supreme God.

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330,000,000 gods seems so foreign to most Christians, yet in reality the Bible teaches us that there are almost 8,000,000,000 images of the one God!  What? you ask!  Genesis 1:26-27 tells us that humans are created in the image of God, whether male or female.  Each one of us is a an “image of God,” so we are all created to be living, breathing idols of the one God. The majesty and significance that the Bible gives to each human as image-bearer is precisely why idolatry is prohibited by the Ten Commandments.  He has called us to be his image; we reject our calling when we create something else to reflect him. 

So we do not need idols made of stone, metal, or wood to help us learn about God or to aid us in demonstrating our devotion to God. We have one other. This is why the prophets were so concerned about injustice and unrighteousness. True worship of God is to treat your neighbor as yourself and to do to others as you would want them to do to you. That we are the image of God means that every word we speak matters, for we speak for God. Every act we do matters, for we act on behalf of God. Because every human is made in the image of God, it matters how we treat one another. “They” are not our enemy to slander or destroy. “They” should be honored as the very image of God–even when we disagree with something they say or do. This is why Jesus, when his opponents attempted to trap him with a question about paying taxes to Caesar, held up a coin and asked whose “image” was on the coin. When they said Caesar’s, Jesus told them to give to Caesar what bears Caesar’s image and to give to God what bears God’s image (ourselves). In other words, stop worrying about the taxes and the politics and just love your neighbor. If you do, everything else will work out.

Christianity is a kingdom of 8 billion images of god, though not all reflect his glory or bow to one another in love and service of God.  None of us fully reflects the infinite God, though we all reflect elements of who he is.  Yet here is where Christianity differs from Hinduism.  Where they say no one god or goddess can fully reflect the infinite God, Christians say there is one human who is the image of God in all its radiance and splendor.  There is one in whom all the fullness of deity dwelt bodily.  His name is Jesus.  Christians bow to him as Lord, the full reflection of the image of the invisible God.  As we follow him, God conforms us to Christ’s image, and we reflect this image to those around us.

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Christian living, World Religions

Mahatma Gandhi’s Sage Advice to Make America More Christian

What, you ask? Didn’t Gandhi die in 1948. How could he possibly have any insight into America for Christians living in 2021 (over 70 years later)? I too was surprised when I pulled E. Stanley Jones’s The Christ of the Indian Road off of my shelf the other day. In it, I read that Jones one day asked Gandhi the following question: “Mahatma Gandhi, I am very anxious to see Christianity naturalized in India, so that it shall be no longer a foreign thing identified with a foreign people and a foreign government, but a part of the national life of India and contributing its power to India’s uplift and redemption. What would you suggest that we do to make that possible?”

Gandhi’s response not only had insight and value for colonialized India in the twentieth century, but the same four observations would be beneficial for Christians to adopt in post-Christian America. I agree with the sentiment of the Chief Justice of the High Court of North India when he heard Gandhi’s recommendations: “He could not have put his finger on four more important issues. It took spiritual genius and insight to do that.”

So how do we “naturalize” Christianity for the United States, a country that is no longer majority Christian?

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Live Like Jesus

Gandhi’s thoughtful response began, “I would suggest, first, that all of you Christians, missionaries and all, must begin to live more like Jesus Christ.” Isn’t this the calling all Christians have? Certainly, we all say we want to do this. Saying is one thing; doing is the hard part. In fact, Gandhi purportedly said Christians not living like Christ is why he never could convert to the Christian faith, though he loved Jesus and sought to practice his teachings.

Unfortunately, too many Christians are anything but Christ-like. In post-Christian America, there too often has been a tendency to fight and argue. Some claim this is following Jesus. After all, didn’t he take up a whip in the temple and overturn tables? But we see the act and not the motive. Jesus was not seeking power for himself or for his tribe. Jesus was angry the Court of the Gentiles was not a place of solace and prayer for the non-Jews but a noisy place of commerce for the Jewish people. He was angry with his own tribe–not those outside his tribe. Jesus did speak out against the powerful of his day, but again it was for the sake of the poor and dispossessed. Not for himself or for his own. When on trial, Jesus was “oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth” (Isa 53:7; cf. Mt 26:62-63).

Too many Christians today are more like James Madison than Jesus Christ. American Christians demand their rights and fight against those they perceive to hinder their rights, but Paul told the Corinthians that they should not demand rights even thought in Christ they are free. Paul noted all the “rights” he could claim, then declared, “Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible” (1 Cor 9:19). Paul understood what it meant to truly live like Jesus, and so he later encouraged the Corinthians to “follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor 11:1).

Instead of fighting our enemies, Jesus called us to “love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us” (Mt 5:45). Do we serve our fellow humans or dictate to them what we think they should do to deserve our service? Do we love them despite their sins or lecture them about their failings? Do we pray for those who persecute us or do we seek to fight fire with fire? The reason so many Americans today are turning away from Christianity is not because of Jesus. They are compelled by the life and teaching of Jesus . . . but they unfortunately are often repelled by those who claim his name but do not live by his calling to deny ourselves by taking up our crosses so we can live for others.

Don’t Compromise

Yes, you read this correctly. Second, Gandhi said, “I would suggest that you must practice your religion without adulterating it or toning it down.” Is there anything more notable about American Christianity in recent decades than the frequent attempts to “blend in” or “make attractive” Christian worship and practice? This began with the “seeker-friendly” approach that sought to cater to what was assumed to be the need of non-Christians. It can be seen in some forms of worship music or platforms that feel more like a rock concert than a worship celebration. (I am not against contemporary elements in worship, but sadly some lyrics have no theological weightiness to them. Songs used to be the primary method of proclaiming–as well as teaching–Christian beliefs.) Another recent trend has been the removal of denominational labels on church promotional materials and signage, even though the church itself maintains its denominational connections.

Paul is sometimes pointed to as the reason for toning down the Christian faith. Some will point to his statement in 1 Corinthians, “I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some” (9:22). Yet Paul makes this comment in the very letter where he also talks about the importance of “boasting in the Lord” as specifically emphasizing nothing other than Jesus Christ as the crucified one (1:26-2:5; cf. Jer 9:23-24, on which Paul is elaborating). He sought to emphasize only the crucified and risen Jesus, knowing that it was a “stumbling block” to Jews and “foolishness” to Greeks (1 Cor 1:23).

This is neither a call to some fundamentalist approach to the Christian faith nor is it a call to liberating the gospel from its historic roots. It is a calling to faithful words and actions based on the life of Christ. It is a call to proclaim his Lordship over all areas of our life as rightful king. Liberalism frequently waters down the gospel to fit societal expectations or contemporary trends. In reaction to this, fundamentalism often seeks power through arrogant claims of higher knowledge and coercive demands for uniformity of beliefs and practice. Gandhi asked Christians to be unwavering in the practice of their faith, but as we shall see, he also points us toward a demonstration of love and humility, once again demonstrating his astute insight into the character and teachings of Jesus. As Peter puts it, we should always be ready to give an explanation for the hope we have in Jesus as our Lord, but we should always do it “with gentleness and respect” (1 Pet 3:15). Too frequently, I do not see any gentleness or respect on social media from American Christians.

Demonstrate Love

Gandhi’s third recommendation was, “I would suggest that you must put your emphasis upon love, for love is the center and soul of Christianity.” Here, Gandhi saw the key feature of the Christian faith that sometimes eludes even some Christian leaders. Paul certainly had concerns for proper doctrine (right beliefs), but the overarching emphasis in his letters was on love and Christian unity. This is why he was so against the Jewish Christians who treated Gentile believers as if they were second-class for not following the Jewish rituals and dietary rules. He saw the Judaizers’ requirement for uniformity not as a “salvation by works” but as a detrimental impediment to the Christian vision of a new people rising up from the many nations (the meaning of the word “Gentile”) while still maintaining their “many-ness” (Eph 2:16). Yes, Paul later speaks of “one faith,” but that statement is not intended to be a weapon to batter down those who do not fully share your own doctrinal beliefs. It is part of a larger call to unity (seven times repeating the word “one” for emphasis), one of seven ways of explaining why we are to “be completely humble and gentle; [to] be patient, bearing with one another in love . . . [and to] make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” (Eph 4:1-6). Paul’s vision of loving unity extended also to male and female, free and slave (Gal 3:28).

This call to unity and, in love, bearing with one another’s differences was the very desire of Jesus himself. Hours before his death, Jesus prayed to his Father in heaven, “I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one— I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (Jn 17:22-23). Does the world know us by our love for one another or for our infighting on regular and social media? Are we known for loving our enemies or for always talking bad about certain groups and what is wrong with some movements? Using the language of Paul, are we known as people who follow the Christ who “destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility” (Eph 2:14) or as advocates for the status quo of homogeneous church communities or for building a wall to keep “those people” in their place? Christ paid all debts for us except one, “the continuing debt to love one another,” for all of God’s law is summed up in the saying, “love your neighbor as yourself” (Rom 13:8-10).

Celebrate the Good

Finally, Gandhi concluded, “Fourth, I would suggest that you study the non-Christian religions and culture more sympathetically in order to find the good that is in them, so that you might have a more sympathetic approach to the people.” For many, this may be the most controversial of the four statements by Gandhi. Some think truth is only found in Christianity. This creates an arrogance that is off-putting to most if not all non-Christians, whether they live in India as part of another faith or in America as part of the “religious nones.” Yet if we truly live more like Jesus, seeking the needs of others rather than demanding our rights or enhancing personal power; if we hold fast to our faith and do not water it down; and if we genuinely learn to love one another and love our neighbors as well as our enemies; . . . then these things naturally will enable us to learn to be more sympathetic to others and open to listening first to their desires, hopes, and beliefs before we declare to them what we ourselves believe.

In Gandhi’s day, Christianity was identified with British colonial rule.  There unfortunately was an arrogance and preference for all things British that permeated the actions and attitudes of many Christians, including many converts.  In post-Christian America, there are many Christians who engage in unnecessary culture wars to bring back “the good old days.”  Rightly or wrongly, this comes across as arrogant posturing to reclaim power over those who feel Christianity’s days are past.  Instead, we need to demonstrate sympathy, which includes acknowledging uncomfortable truths that not everything in the old days was “good” as we claim.

If Jesus is the Truth (Jn 14:6) as well as the Light enlightening all humans (Jn 1:9), then wherever we find truth, we can celebrate it and reclaim it for Christ.  (Augustine preferred the image of the Israelites, who received gold from the Egyptians in the Passover, using it to build the Ark and Tabernacle later on.)  The good in non-Christian cultures is not only seen in Paul’s refusal for Jewish Christians to force their own culture upon the Gentiles, but in the gospels themselves.  Matthew emphasizes the magi over the biblical scholars (Mt 2:1-11), the Roman centurion over the disciples (Mt 8:10, 26), and the Canaanite woman over both Peter and the Pharisees (Mt 15:7, 14, 16, 28).

God’s love for all people includes their diverse cultures and backgrounds, which comes “from every nation, tribe, people and language” (Rev 5:9; 7:9). We should learn about these cultures and ideas before immediately throwing them out as wrong or incorrect.  The redemption of the Lord Jesus Christ includes the redemption of the good and the truth from each and every culture, so we should approach these with humility first. This is not to say that we should accept all cultural practices as equal. Paul quoted Greek philosophers at times (e.g., Tit 1:12; Acts 17:28), but he knows does not simply accept a culture whole cloth. After affirming Gentiles for not having to adopt all Jewish practices, he admonishes them not to continue in “darkened” or “ignorant” ways (Eph 4:17).

Too often in America, we allow politicians, media commentators, and even some ministers to prey on our fears in order to manipulate our actions.  There is a reason that the admonition not to be afraid is one of the most repeated in the Bible! We should live a life of reasonable, thoughtful worship (Rom 12:1) and not one guided by reactionary fear.  Christians should be “quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry” (Jas 1:19).  Why are many American Evangelical Christians so quick to angry speech?  If we are not willing to listen first to why someone has concerns about Christianity or supports a movement we don’t agree with, why should we expect them to listen to the Good News of Christ Jesus? We need to find the good within cultures and movements and celebrate those things even as we lovingly point out the issues or concerns with the movement as a whole.

Conclusion

If we want to reach a post-Christian America, we need to stop the culture wars (which does not sympathize with the good). We need to stop living in fear (which is not the way of Jesus). We need to not make pompous pronouncements on social media (which does not demonstrate love). Gandhi’s observations for naturalizing Christianity in British-colonial India are just as relevant to naturalizing Christianity in post-Christian America. Live more like Jesus (by not living in fear but praying to the Father and being led by the Spirit). Do not water down the distinctives of Christian faith (but be willing to discuss why others don’t share these with you). Emphasize love (through acts of compassion and seeking unity rather than division). Seek the truth and the good wherever it can be found (by listening first and being slow to speech and anger).

Quotations from E. Stanley Jones, The Christ of the Indian Road (New York: Abingdon Press, 1925; 1953), 118-20.

Bible, Christian living

What about Phoebe? When Scripture “Contradicts” Scripture

Rick Warren has done it now, if you listen to some of the current leaders of the Southern Baptist Convention. While I appreciate much of what current president J.D. Greear has tried to do to guide the SBC through the pandemic and the many politically tumultuous issues that have occurred in the past year, I do not support Greear’s view that Saddleback Church’s ordination of three women pastors is “disappointing,” because Scripture “clearly reserves the office of pastor . . . for qualified men.” Al Mohler, President of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and candidate for SBC President in 2021, sees this action as going against the “codified . . . convictional issues” of the Baptist Faith and Message of 2000, which he calls a “clear” statement several times in his blog. I do not doubt he considers it clear, since he was its primary architect (according to a 2000 letter I received from Adrian Rogers, the BFM chair, directing me to Mohler when I asked why the criterion of faith statement had been removed). Another presidential candidate, Mike Stone, says SBC churches do not have to adhere to every point of the BFM (2000), but he does support removing the SBC’s second largest congregation from the convention because of this issue. It appears Stone views the ordination of women as a doctrine of the first order, on par with denial of the triunity of God or the deity of Jesus.

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These men appeal to the Bible for the view that men only may hold the title of pastor, primarily 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 and 1 Timothy 2:11-15. Mohler connects this issue to 1) liberal theology, 2) liberation theology, 3) “second wave” feminism, and 4) LGBTQ issues, assuming that one or more of these underlies the motives of any Baptist who, though holding a high view of Scripture, comes away with a different reading of the text. While Mohler is clearly driven by a cultural war mentality prevalent in many sectors of American Evangelical Christianity, Greear seems more open to engagement with contemporary culture in his blog and position paper. Yet both Mohler and Greear come to similar views, making a distinction between “minister” (which both men and women can hold as a title) and “pastor” (which may only apply to men). They do not mean only the “senior pastor,” as Mohler articulates in his blog (saying that is an unbiblical term). They mean that a woman may be called a “youth minister” but not a “youth pastor.” The latter implies “authority” while the former indicates you are “under” some elder or pastor’s direction. In Greear’s position paper, he creates non-biblical categories of “general teaching” and “special teaching” (which he also calls “elder teaching”). Women can do the first with both men and women present, but they cannot do the latter. For instance, the position paper says women cannot preach the “weekend sermon” because that implies the woman’s speech “functionally acts with the authority of an elder.” (Interestingly, the paper cites Lottie Moon’s work in China to men and women positively but assumes it was not “preaching” or “elder teaching.” This is strange when Kevin Howard on SBC Voices stands against Moon’s teaching men as part of her mission work in China.) Mohler completely dismisses any Christian who wrestles with the whole of Scripture when he thinks his selected proof-texts settle the issue. “Simply put, the only way to affirm women serving in the pastoral role is to reject the authority and sufficiency of biblical texts such as 1 Corinthians 14 and 1 Timothy 2.”

This is disingenuous. Its black and white approach ignores the multicolored world of Baptist life. The Baptist Standard noted that some Southern Baptist churches clearly had a different perspective on women preaching from the pulpit. It noted Anne Graham Lotz spoke at Second Baptist, Houston, the SBC’s largest congregation. (Billy Graham called his daughter “the best preacher I’ve ever heard,” not son Franklin.) Beth Moore and Kay Warren preached at other SBC churches on Mother’s Day.

Baptist scholar E. Earle Ellis, deceased professor at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and renowned in his day as a premier New Testament scholar, argued 1 Corinthians 14 was not about all women but was narrowly focused on the wife of a husband when both were prophets within the congregation (The Making of the New Testament Documents). Ellis, a complementarian like Mohler and Greear, noted the injunction for women to be silent is in a chapter on the proper use of gifts within orderly worship and immediately follows instructions to prophets to speak one at a time while the other prophets weigh the prophecy being uttered. Ellis said Paul’s emphasis was that the spirits giving rise to prophecy were “under the control” of the prophets (so they could speak or not speak as appropriate to the situation), and this applied to a wife “weighing in” on the prophetic speech of her husband. If the husband stood to prophesy, the wife should not speak in public regarding her husband’s prophecy, whether for or against its authenticity, as part of her official ministry to test the spirits (a role she was expected to play with any other member of the community and which sounds surprisingly like “elder teaching” which Greear says women should not do). In other words, she shouldn’t create a public spectacle by disagreeing (perhaps out of an emotional flareup about a pre-service disagreement on some other matter, according to Ellis’s in-class commentary) nor should she attest to the truth of his prophecy (when it could be planned collusion somewhat akin to the Ananias and Sapphira story, again based on Ellis’s in-class commentary). Ellis viewed 1 Timothy 2 as a pre-formed tradition based on the 1 Corinthians 14 passage and so applying in the same limited scope. (I personally find the 1 Timothy 2 passage the more problematic one, as there doesn’t seem to be a clear context that provides explanation for his injunction.)

Ellis’s reading of the text is but one of several ways to understand the context for 1 Corinthians 14 and 1 Timothy 2 as a temporal prohibition on women’s speech that might not be an eternal mandate or prohibition from the role of pastor. (For example, some see the prohibition as referencing the general lack of educational opportunities for women in the first century. They shouldn’t ask questions during the service but wait and ask in private afterwards. If that were the case, then universal education in twenty-first century America should not create the same barrier for pastoral leadership.)

Now, to the point of this blog’s title. There is the curious status of Phoebe in the letter to the Romans. She is mentioned at the start of the final chapter. Without mentioning her by name, Greear’s position paper takes account of Phoebe’s role as a deacon of Cenchreae in its allowance that women might serve in Summit Church as deacons. But Phoebe is only standing before the Roman church as the letter is first read (and thus in need of introduction to the church within the letter) because she was the letter’s carrier. As Baptist scholar E. Randolph Richards notes in his chapter on Paul’s use of letter carriers (Paul and First-Century Letter Writing), Paul did not consider the role of letter carrier lightly. Whether it was Timothy, Titus, Tychicus–or Phoebe!–the letter carrier was Paul’s envoy to the church. The letter carrier was trained before going in how to perform the letter before the community. (Many scholars prefer the term “perform” to “read” because there would have been rhetorical flourishes intended as one read the text in public.) Once the letter was read, Paul expected the letter carrier to be able to answer any questions about Paul’s meaning within the letter. Do you see the issue that results if Phoebe was the letter carrier? She read the Scripture to the whole congregation–both men and women. She stood in the place of Paul as his representative. She likely did this on the Lord’s Day (during what Greear calls the “weekend sermon” from which women are prohibited in his church). When she answered questions about the letter, she spoke with the authority of Paul himself (using what Greear refers to as “special teaching” or “elder teaching”–speaking with the authority of the elder Paul, one of the four primary leaders of the early Christian movement). She authoritatively taught men and women the truth of the gospel.

So what do you do when one Scripture (Rom 16:1-2) seems to contradict another Scripture (1 Tim 2:12-14)? Many scholars and pastors would say that you have to listen to the arc of the entire biblical narrative. What is the trajectory of the biblical witness? What is the direction toward which it is pointing that would allow continued movement beyond the written text of any specific passage? As Baptist E.Y. Mullins used to say, the Bible didn’t create the community. The Bible came into being within the community (The Christian Religion in Its Doctrinal Expression) and the community continues to grow and develop beyond the writings of the Bible but always under its direction. Phoebe (and Priscilla and others) seem to indicate that, while there certainly is a prohibitive statement about wives being quiet in church, there were exceptions to this rule that were setting us on the trajectory that “you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

It appears Mohler rejects this Biblical trajectory approach to the Bible, that there can be a hermeneutical arc that points in the direction of a specific position that lies beyond what is literally stated in the text. Mohler asserts, “the Holy Scriptures have not changed and cannot change.” Yet this concept is found within the biblical community itself. (For example, the Jerusalem Council tells Gentiles to avoid meat offered to idols yet Paul later gives some caveats to this prohibition when they do not fall within religious contexts.) Without this arc of biblical narrative premise, how could Baptists develop a doctrine of the sanctity of the unborn? There is not a specific text about abortion. Instead, the sanctity of the unborn is argued as the logical conclusion to a biblical arc of passages affirming the sanctity of life of the born and the sacred mystery of God’s work in the womb.

Mohler labels any attempt to interpret statements like 1 Cor 14 or 1 Tim 2 on the basis of textual or historical contexts “revisionist arguments” and “biblical subversion.” Certainly such condemnations were made of Martin Luther when he re-read the doctrine of justification in a new way and launched the Reformation movement. He also appeals to the long history within the Christian tradition as evidence that ordination of women as pastors is wrong. The same thing was said about the Anabaptists and Baptists when they rejected infant baptism after a millennium of such practice. Baptist and Protestant theology is based on the belief that we are unable to read the text from an omniscient or untainted vantage point, knowing we cannot read without error. This is why the churches of the Reformation are the churches which are always reforming, though our basis of faith must always be the God-breathed Scriptures as we read within the Body of Christ through the empowering work of the Sprit.

To look at the issue from another perspective, why do Greear and Mohler take Paul literally to say that women can never at any time teach or have authority over a man yet they do not take the next injunction literally, that women are only and ever saved through childbearing? Certainly they do not assert such a position (as it would mean single and barren women could not be saved). The point is that we all pick and choose what is “literal” and what is to be interpreted, what to foreground and what to recede into the background. In reality, all Scripture must be interpreted.

It is certainly understandable for Greear, Mohler, and Stone to come to a position that the biblical witness is against women holding the role of pastor. There is a case to be made from the Scripture for that view and history backs it up. It is not acceptable, however, for Mohler or Stone to assert that those who come to a different position automatically do so because they are not committed to the authority of the Bible. This is a complicated issue without as clear a statement within the Bible as some might wish to claim. One thing the New Testament is not ambiguous about, however, is the importance of seeking unity within the Body of Christ. Therefore, we should all be very careful about a desire to incite division between two groups that both seek to honor Christ and to be led by his Spirit simply because each arrives at a different understanding of the same Scripture they both affirm as divinely inspired.

Christian living, The Stories We Tell

The Stories We Tell . . . Part 1

We tell ourselves stories all the time.  Not verbally, necessarily; they can be the thoughts we think to ourselves—the narrative in which we view reality.  The stories that we tell ourselves shape our understanding of the past, the way we live life today, and the person we will become in the future.

So where do we get our stories?  Who do we listen to?  What do we read?  What do we set before our eyes?  The ones we spend the most time with will inevitably have the most impact on the stories we tell ourselves and how we view our life as a narrative.  I have been thinking about this quite a bit lately.  It seems every book I pick up or podcast I turn on has this theme underlying it.  What stories do we choose to listen to?  The stories we tell ourselves will vary quite a bit depending on the input we select.  And this variance can impact how we view our world, how live out our lives, how we see others, and ultimately, how we conceive of God.

You can see the impact of stories we tell ourselves within the pages of the Bible itself.  As but one example, let’s look at the stories found in the Old Testament that attempt to explain the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonian empire.  The writer of 2 Kings argues that the fall of the kingdom of Judah was ultimately the consequence of the Israelites turning away from God and worshiping idols, especially during the time of King Manasseh (2Ki 21).  The writer of 2 Kings then portrays King Josiah in heroic terms as someone fighting to undo the errors of his grandfather Manasseh, attempting to turn the nation back to God by destroying the temples, the idols, the high places, and even the priests and prophets that were leading the people astray (2Ki 23).

Heroic though Josiah’s efforts were, within 25 years of his death Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians.  Though the prophet Jeremiah supported Josiah’s reform movement (2Chr 35:25; Jer 11:21; 36:2), we find a far different story in the book of Jeremiah to explain the fall of Jerusalem.  The story is told by some Jews who fled to Egypt with a kidnapped Jeremiah.  They rebelliously tell Jeremiah that when they worshiped the Queen of Heaven (one of the various idols they worshiped), they “had plenty of food and were well off and suffered no harm.  But ever since we stopped burning incense to the Queen of Heaven and pouring out drink offerings to her, we have had nothing and have been perishing by sword and famine” (Jer 44:17b-18, NIV).  So where the writer of 2 Kings blamed the fall of Jerusalem on the people’s continuous worship of various idols and practice of things forbidden by God (cf. Jer 44:2-6), the Jews in Egypt instead blamed Josiah’s and Jeremiah’s reform for the destruction, since Josiah put an end to the worship of idols and Jeremiah continued to preach this policy through the destruction of the kingdom.

Just as the Jews interpreted a historical event (the fall of Jerusalem) within one of two narratives (either the result of the Lord God’s anger about idol worship or the Queen of Heaven’s anger that her worship had ceased), so we create a narrative to make sense of events that happen in our own lives.  We tell ourselves stories.  The question is, are we telling ourselves the right stories?

Christian living

Reflections on courage: Observations from Benedict’s resignation

Courageous.  I have read and heard this term numerous times on television and in print during the past week to describe the decision of Benedict XVI to resign as pope of the Roman Catholic Church at the end of February.  Perhaps they are viewing the decision from the perspective of the world’s definition of power.  If you think power is something to be grasped rather than to become the servant of all, then perhaps the term “courageous” is justified.  The Bishop of Rome is one of the most influential people in the world and some cannot comprehend how Benedict could give up that kind of power.

Benedict said in the past that he would abdicate the See of Peter if his physical and/or mental capabilities no longer enabled him to perform the duties of that position.  Faithful to his word, he has elected to step down as his health appears to be waning.  “Courageous” to relinquish such power and responsibility?  Benedict is said to be the “Vicar of Christ.”  So if Jesus defined messiahship (i.e., Christhood) in terms of a suffering servant when the world around him insisted it should be a conquering king, then courageous is the wrong adjective.  Faithful, honorable . . . certainly.  Even visionary, as Benedict actions set a precedent (or renews one?) to place the good of the Church above personal gain.

But courageous?  John Paul II, Benedict’s immediate predecessor, comes immediately to mind as more deserving of such a moniker.  Many who use the term “courage” of Benedict clearly have John Paul in mind.  They think John Paul was selfish or lacked vision when he continued in his papal duties even as his health declined in his final years.  But John Paul emphasized the sanctity and dignity of human life throughout his reign.  All human life, he emphasized, is created in the image of God and has equal worth to God as well as to those who bear the name of Jesus.  This worth extends to the unborn babe within the womb, to the mentally ill or disabled, and even to the physically disabled and the dying.  John Paul rejected abortion and euthanasia.  More importantly, he lived what he preached, demonstrating to the end the dignity of life.  Breaking with tradition, he lived out his final days in public so that we all might hear his message.  That is courageous!  Living what you preach.  Allowing us to see the frailty of life and the dignity by which he lived his final days, rather than receding into the shadows of private life as if the elderly have no worth.  I have noted this previously: http://www.baptiststandard.com/resources/archives/45-2005-archives/3563-2nd-opinion-by-jm-givens-jr-lessons-from-the-dying.

Many have observed the last pope to resign was Gregory XII, who stepped down in 1415, almost six hundred years ago.  The prior century had been a turbulent time for the church.  Most of the fourteenth century found the Bishops of Rome residing in the south of France, until an angry mob surrounded a cardinal conclave and insisted an Italian pope be elected who would reside in Rome.  The cardinals complied, but almost immediately afterward declared a second man pope, claiming the first was illegitimately selected under duress.  For the next forty years, two men claimed the title pope.  A council in 1409, intending to resolve the issue, declared the two men deposed and elected yet a third man pope.  As neither “deposed” man recognized the council or its actions, this only exacerbated the issue.  Finally, a second council declared the popes who had reigned from Rome to be the legitimate popes.  All others were “anti-popes,” so Gregory XII was the legitimate leader of the Church.  At this recognition, Gregory chose to step down in order to put the entire embarrassing period to rest by allowing the cardinals to select a new pope, one unstained by the struggles of prior decades.

A church leader putting the unity of the Church–his denomination–ahead of his own vision for its future.  A man willing to give up personal power in order to empower others.  Here is an act of courage!  After decades of schism and political maneuvering, would that Baptists had ears to hear and eyes to see.

Christian living

Monovision and Single Vision

I told the eye doctor recently that I had quit wearing my contacts because I was starting to have difficulty reading for extended periods of time. I have been nearsighted for years, but have 20/15 vision with corrective lenses and no problem reading without. As with most persons hitting their forties, however, my eyes are losing the ability to compensate for my contacts when I try to read something close to hand.

He asked me if I wanted to try monovision; that is, using different contacts so that one eye is able to see distant objects and the other is able to see near objects. He told me most people’s minds are able to adjust to this situation and quickly learn to trust the dominant eye for seeing distance and the other eye for reading. It sounded strange, but I decided to try it. After all, it would be half the price since I only need the one contact for distance vision!

I wore the one contact for several days. While it was true that I didn’t notice the duality all the time, I continued to have difficulty seeing mid-distance, especially in lower light levels, and night driving didn’t work at all because oncoming lights were doubled—one in focus and one out of focus. My doctor finally decided that I was one of the 20% or so who can’t adjust to monovision because I’ve always accepted input from both eyes.

This experience made me start to wonder how many live a spiritual life of monovision, with one eye focused on the will of God but the other still focused on the world and self? How many are able to rationalize the conflicting information, picking and choosing what they want to see? Is it really so easy to accept the duality of data to create one’s own “unified vision” of truth?

While many can and do attempt it, ultimately this is a futile act. James the brother of Jesus condemned the “double-minded man” as “unstable in all he does” (1:8); Jesus himself told us we “cannot serve two masters” (Matt 6:24); and the Apostle Paul warned we cannot partake from the “table of the Lord” and the “table of demons” (1 Cor 10:21).

Certainly if you attempted monovision, you could recognize the clearly evil and the clearly good, just as my mind was able to see clearly the distant and near objects. But where I had difficulty with monovision was with mid-distance as well as night vision. This is precisely where a life of spiritual monovision would have difficulty—knowing the right from the wrong as you enter the many gray areas of life. What you truly need is not monovision but single vision, that is seeking God with your whole heart. Only singleness of vision can help you make the right decision in those realms of gray.

As the Lord said through his prophets: “Seek me and live; do not seek Bethel, do not go to Gilgal, do not journey to Beersheba” (Amos 5:4-5a). That is, get rid of the monovision and set your vision upon the Lord. “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jer 29:13) Only singleness of vision will help you truly find the Lord and his will. If you “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness,” Jesus tells us, then “all these things”–that is, what is right for the world and for yourself–“will be given to you as well” (Matt 6:33)

Father, help us seek you with all of our hearts.