Jesse A. Schroeder: Theology

Showing posts with label Theology. Show all posts

Friday, March 23, 2012

He Who Fights for Me

"...indeed,
you entered this world to save me,
to free me from the bonds of evil and sin,
and to lead me to your Father's house.
...you are willing
to struggle against the strong powers
which pull me away from you.
Lord, you want to keep me, hold onto me,
fight for me, protect me, help me, support me,
comfort me, and present me to your Father.
it indeed is your divine task not to lose me!
And yet I am free.
I can separate myself from you,
and you will never take this freedom away from me.
Oh, what a wonder of love,
what a mystery of divine grace!"

- selection of a prayer by Henri Nouwen, in his book "Show Me the Way: Readings for Each Day of Lent"

There is something about this idea, that God fights for me that is utterly humbling. This idea taps into an aspect of grace that, when I consider it, just levels me. God fights for me - he wants me on his side - he is seeking me out and struggling to save me.

All that I do to fight against God, to rebel against his simple way of life and his perfect love - in spite of all of that, God is fighting for me.

It reminds me of a song we sang in Guatemala one Sunday - Jehova es mi guerrero - Jehovah is my warrior.

(This video isn't from the same church we visited, but it's pretty similar.)

Friday, December 9, 2011

When there's nothing left to say or do

Aleli is now 3 months old, and Kellye and I continually reflect on all of the many things for which we are grateful. The week of Thanksgiving was spent with many family members, including my siblings who flew into town from all over the world. We sort of had a 3-day-Thanksgiving-celebration, spent at different houses, eating great food every day, and really enjoying being together, as well as sharing Aleli with everyone.

In addition to family, I have a great internship in which I am learning applicable skills and information, but is also flexible in allowing me time to be home when needed. Kellye's job gave her 12 full weeks of paid time off. We have a great community of friends who are always doing fun and interesting things. And most of all, our little girl is healthy, happy, and just so stinking amazing.

We reflect on all of these things, and we feel a deep sense of gratitude. It's easy to write about things we are thankful for, but I feel like I'm learning about a new aspect of gratitude that I haven't realized before:

True gratitude leads to deeper humility.

Kellye and I are both reciprocal givers - we like things to be equal. Many folks gave us cards and gifts for Aleli, and we were careful to write thank you cards back to all of them. We keep a sort of back-of-the-mind mental log of who gave us gifts, and we try to give gifts of equal value back to them. That's a way that we say "thank you," and its also probably a little compulsive and unhealthy, but we won't go there.

The point is, there are some people to whom you can say "thank you" and can write a card, and can even give a gift back at an appropriate time. But when you think of the whole of your life, your family, the health of your child, and a general sense of a happiness - there is nothing more to say or do.

I can't write a thank you cards to my siblings and say "thank you for being in my family!" I can't buy a nice hallmark card to send to God. All I can do is tell my family, express to God, my gratitude and thankfulness.

And once I've done that, there's nothing more to say or do. I just have to receive it, enjoy it, live in it, and be thankful. And to me, that is really humbling. I want to be able to offer something more back.

But when you are truly grateful, all you can be is grateful. There isn't anything more you can, or need to say or do.

Monday, September 19, 2011

On the Receiving End

For most of my life I have been in the position of being able to give to others. Giving time, giving money, giving love and support to those who are in need. But these past two weeks, Kellye and I have been on the receiving end of enormous amounts of encouragement from friends and family. This has prompted me to realize a few things:

First, it is very humbling to receive gifts from people! We have received valuable gifts of time, food, service and simply money from people we would have never expected. Even more significantly, we continue to hear from people that they are praying for us and for Aleli. It is an extremely humbling experience for two people such as Kel and myself, two people who try to be strong, self-sufficient and capable at all times.

We are accustomed to being the ones who give, and when you give, you are actually in power. But right now, we are weak and we are in need. That's hard to admit, but its easier when friends and family show support in a loving way. That feeling of being cared for, loved, and knowing that you are not alone is a very unique experience.

Second, I am realizing the real value of a meal. We have received several meals, some cooked, some picked up from fast food, some brought fresh to our house specific to our order from our favorite restaurant. These meals are so important to us right now! There is something special about eating food that was prepared out of love and concern. Furthermore, it is saving us so much time and money. Some nights, we come home from the NICU around 9pm or later, and its a blessing to have dinner already simmering in the crockpot. And we haven't had to go to the store in 2 weeks! (Of course one week we were in the hospital, so....)

Because I now realize the importance of these meals, I told Kellye tonight that I always want to help others out in this way when they are in need. I used to think it wasn't a big deal, but now I realize how important providing a simply meal for someone can be.

Finally, Kellye and I are continually in awe at the beauty and joy of being in God's big family and God's great kingdom. We are blessed with so many friends from years of shared experiences in God's kingdom, and there support means that much more because we know it comes from the heart of God. I believe that the value of the gift is more than the gift itself, simply because it is given. Or, in other words, a $20 meal brought to our house is worth many times more than $20, because it was brought to our house during our time of need.

So, I am humbled. I am full of good food. And I'm loving life in God's big family.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Heaven, Hell, Chan & Bell (Part Three)

It's been a few weeks since I started blogging about Rob Bell and Francis Chan's books regarding heaven and hell, and I've since been distracted with some other really good reading. However, there are a few points about Chan's book that have been sitting in the back of my head that I really wanted to get down.

First, the name of Chan's book, "Erasing Hell," says a lot to me. Rob Bell wrote a book about "Heaven, Hell and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived." His book is not just about hell. But when Chan writes a response, he focuses on Bell's depiction of hell. There is no response to Bell's understanding of heaven or the afterlife in general.

In my opinion, this reflects a serious flaw in Evangelica theology, namely focusing on God's judgment rather than God's grace. If our starting point is the reality and danger of hell, then our theology will be constructed around avoiding this punishment. When hell is the catalyst for faith, the result could be living and believing "just enough" so that I am "safe." For many years, I've answered questions from students where the bottom line is, "Would I go to hell for that?"

Furthermore, I think that focusing on hell reflects a broader contemporary cultural fix. Phrases like, "I'll see you in hell," or "Go to hell" are very common. We have a general understanding that bad people are punished in hell. In my opinion, "Erasing Hell" only furthers this misconception of God's kingdom. God's relationship with humanity does not start with a threat of eternal punishment, but rather with an open invitation to partake in the divine life. Our theology must start with God's unconditional love, constant pursuit of humanity, and patient kindness. This is what makes the Christian God unique, compelling, and transformative. As Paul says it Romans, "It is God's kindness that leads us to repentance." In my opinion, simply by naming the book "Erasing Hell," Chan and Sprinkle betray that they are focusing and emphasizing the wrong things, both in Bell's book and in their theology in general.

The second, very important point, that I wanted to mention in this final post is Sprinkle's explanation of first century Jewish understanding of hell. In chapter two, Sprinkle and Chan offer a more historically accurate picture of Jesus, specifically the theological context of first century Judaism. They state, "Jesus was a first-century Jew, so we need to leave behind all our Jesuses that have been refashioned and reshaped by our own cultural biases" (pg. 49). Right on! This is a worthy task, but one that is far more difficult that Sprinkle and Chan allow for in their book. Furthermore, they look at primarily one collection of sources that offers a very distorted picture of first century Judaism.

In a footnote, Sprinkle explains that "this chapter is going to dig into the wild and complicated world of Second Temple Judaism...using the translations and dates of the Jewish literature from...[the Pseudepigrapha]...the Apocrypha...[and] the Dead Sea Scrolls" (pg. 63). It is great to see Evangelicals using this sources to expand their understanding of Jesus' religious and social context. However, I don't feel that Sprinkle does an appropriate job communicating just how deeply complicated this literature is! Second Temple Judaism is a very complex time, filled with various religious and social factions of Jews and Gentiles. Literature from these sources (the Pseudepigrapha, Dead Sea Scrolls, and the Apocrypha) are extremely complex, multi-layered, and far from representative of the culture as a whole. The reason these sources are extant is because they were preserved by extremist factions of scribes, such as the Essenes. These men were not your typical Jew. They lived in secluded communities, dedicated their lives to copying and preserving texts, and still, only single copies of these manuscripts have remained, and many of them have a very small percentage that can be read because of deterioration.

Furthermore, Evangelical Christians would hardly take the Pseudepigrapha, the Dead Sea Scrolls, or the Apocrypha to be authoritative! But Sprinkle and Chan quote these texts in their book as if they are quoting Scripture, which in my opinion is misleading and poor scholarship. Sprinkle quotes writings such as 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, 1 Enoch, 4 Maccabees and others that I can't even tell from Sprinkles abbreviations!! (for example, L.A.B. or Ascen.) The reader can find these sources by looking carefully at the endnotes, but they are not clearly cited within the chapter, and I don't feel that Sprinkle does a fair job explaining to the reader exactly who these sources are. To say that quotes from the Pseudepigrapha are representative of the beliefs of Jews in the first century is to say that a quote from a Tea Party member is representative of Americans in the 21st Century.

This is not to say that by looking at apocryphal literature cannot expand our understanding of Judaism. Rather, this literature shows us the complexity, nuance and polarization of beliefs about the afterlife, the kingdom of God, and the reign of the messiah. But Sprinkle and Chan do not use the quotes referring to hell in this way. They pick and choose a small selection of quotes from a wide variety of very difficult, apocryphal texts, and hold them up as proof that Jesus believed in hell. Frankly, this is poor scholarship.

I know that I have significantly criticized "Erasing Hell." On a positive note, the book is a simple and concise summary of what some Evangelicals and some Christians have believed about hell for many years. However, the thing to keep in mind is that "Erasing Hell" is one perspective, one approach, and on understanding of hell. Even Sprinkle himself admits that he is uncertain as to whether or not hell is eternal or temporary. He says that the biblical witness is complex, and perhaps there is reason to believe that hell will not last forever. What a confession and an indication that the topic of hell is not a "case closed" situation.

In the end, as always, we have a choice. What will we choose to believe about God, heaven and hell? We always have a choice - to believe in a God that loves unconditionally and will stop at nothing to achieve the redemption of the world, or a God who is constrained by self-imposed judgments and relies upon eternal punishment of the sort that disgusts even evil humans. Our choice matters, because it determines how we will live and how we will love. Do we love God for saving us from hell, or for bringing us into the divine life? Do we love other people because we don't want them to burn forever, or because we believe that the fullest expression of the kingdom of God is one that includes all people?

These are important questions, and this choice is very important. More than anything, I think its important to realize that we do have a choice. We do not have to be constrained by our own theology, locked into our old ways of understanding heaven and hell. I appreciate Bell's work because he throws open the windows and the doors of the church and says, "Look! There is more out there! Look at the possibilities!"

We have a choice, and I choose to believe in the possibilities of God, including the possibility that all heaven and earth will one day be redeemed.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Heaven, Hell, Chan & Bell (Part One)

I am a little late to the "Rob Bell, Love Wins" controversy. I was more than a little overwhelmed by the initial hype and online bantering, and so I didn't read the book right away. However, I borrowed Love Wins from my brother-in-law last week and read it. At the same time, another friend was reading Francis' Chan's "Erasing Hell." We engaged in some friendly dialog about the books and the topics covered therein. I've since finished both books, and have some specific thoughts to share.

First, some thoughts about Bell and Love Wins:

The book is written in Bell's now notorious style: conversational, short sentences, lots of spaces, more like a blog post than a book. It is not an academic book; there are no footnotes, very few references to theological big names past or present, and Bell rarely even offers the exact Biblical reference. Rather, he'll say something like, "In John 3 Jesus tells a man..." When I first started reading the book, I was a little disappointed, and thought that it wasn't Bell's best work.

He begins by asking some of the questions that surround heaven and hell, questions that most people are afraid to ask. Like pulling on a loose thread in a hand-knit sweater, Bell keeps tugging, searching, questioning, showing that our tightly-knit theological doctrines have more than a few holes. For example:

"So demons believe,

and washing Jesus's feet with your tears gets your sins forgiven?

We could go on,

verse after verse,

passage after passage,

question after question,

about heaven and hell and the afterlife

and salvation and believing and judgment

and who God is and what God is like

and how Jesus fits into any of it.

But this isn't just a book of questions.

It's a book of responses to these questions." (pgs. 18-19).

The most common and basic accusation against Bell is that he is not "Scriptural." However, you can see even from this short selection, that he is looking at Scripture. But he correctly points out that the Bible presents a myriad of stories and descriptions about heaven, hell, salvation and sin. Bell's book is full of Scripture, and initially he tries to show that the Bible is far from clear on these issues, and if we are really honest, we have a lot of difficult questions to answer.

So Bell moves forward, trying to paint a better picture of heaven and hell. This is a bold task, and one that Bell attempts all the while employing his casual, conversational tone. So, in some places the book feels thin and lacking support. But, in short, Bell is trying to help Christians think differently about heaven and hell. He isn't necessarily refuting or rejecting the evangelical doctrines, but rather trying to broaden our vision of the future so that our lives can really be changed in the present. He states,

"It's very common to hear talk about heaven framed in terms of who 'gets in' or how to 'get in.' What we find Jesus teaching, over and over and over again, is that he's interested in our hearts being transformed, so that we can actually handle heaven." (pg. 50)

And again,

"Eternal life is less about a kind of time that starts when we die, and more about a quality and vitality of life lived now in connection with God." (pg. 59)

In my opinion, these are far from controversial statements. These are necessary and helpful corrections to doctrines that can quickly get out of control. However, some of the strongest responses haven't come against what Bell says about heaven, but rather what he says about hell. Again, Bell tries to take on the giant task of reframing an entire theology, in one short chapter. He cites all the verses in the Bible that use the word "Hades" or "Hell" explicitly, and he explains how these words have complex meanings. Most importantly, he reminds us that our concept of "hell" cannot be read backwards onto Scripture.

One of Bell's major points is that Hell is a current reality. Again, he is trying to broaden our vision of the issues, and in my opinion, this is necessary for modern American Christians. Death, famine, war, and abuse are every day realities for people around the world, but these are far away concepts for Americans. What Americans are familiar with are things like depression, suicide, sexual abuse, addiction, divorce and death. But rarely do we allow the full weight and severity of these realities enter our church doors. Church is a happy place, a place where we ignore the hells in the world around us and the world inside of us.

But Bell doesn't stop there. He uses Scriptural stories, from Jesus, to more fully explain the concept of hell and punishment. But he does this in a way that is not simplistic or childish. For example, using the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, he states (about the Rich Man):

"He's alive in death, but in profound torment, because he's living with the realities of not properly dying the kind of death that actually leads a person into the only kind of life that's worth living...How do you communicate a truth that complex and multilayered? You (meaning, Jesus) tell a nuanced shocking story about a rich man and a poor man...Brilliant, just brilliant." (pg. 77)

To accuse Bell of not being Scriptural is not accurate. Rather, he is reading and using Scripture in a very different way. Not just a different interpretation of verses, but his understanding of what Jesus was doing when he was teaching is very different. Most of Bell's opponents read Scripture looking to piece together a tight theology, a scientific encyclopedia that has all the answers. Bell reads the words of Jesus, and he sees a "brilliant" teacher, who is telling transformative stories that are true on a level that goes beyond scientific fact. Bell clearly has the utmost respect for Scripture and the teachings of Jesus, and I found myself learning a great deal from his exegeses, as well as being challenged to transform how I live.

I started by saying that I didn't think Love Wins in Bell's best work. However, as I got past the midway point, I found myself strongly resonating with what Bell was writing. I found myself agreeing on almost all of his points, but more than just agreeing, my soul was responding with a deep yes. After the two chapters on heaven and hell, Bell's writing really hits a stride, and each page is filled with beautiful explanations of the words of Jesus. His chapter "There Are Rocks Everywhere" is a simple, provocative and compelling argument for Christian Inclusivism, and when he concludes with the chapter "The Good News Is Better Than That," Bell brings all of the issues home to a personal level, dealing with self-mutilation, abuse, jealousy, misconceptions about God, and finally summing up the love of God the words of Scripture, "You are always with me, and everything I have is yours."

For me, this is a Christianity I can really believe in, that I can share with my atheist friends, that can change the world." For me, I find myself thinking, "Finally, someone is putting together all the ideas and inclinations about God and faith that I've been feeling for so many years." Bell states on pg. 135,

"How many people, if you were to ask them why they've left church, would give an answer something along the lines of, 'It's just so....small?"

Me. I would. I've felt that way for years.

Bell continues,

"Of course. A gospel that leaves out its cosmic scope will always feel small. A gospel that has as its chief message avoiding hell or not sinning will never be the full story."

YES.

In short, I think that Bell gets the Christian story - on a grand scale - very right, and I wish that more Christians would read his work, not just from a perspective interest for the sake of conversation at dinner parties, but for the sake of changing the way they are living now. As Bell says at the end of his book,

"Whatever you've been told about the end -

the end of your life,

the end of time,

the end of the world -

Jesus passionately urges us to live like the end is here,

now,

today." (pg. 197)

____________

In part two, I'll talk about Francis Chan's book, "Erasing Hell"

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Responding to Suffering

Brian McLaren wrote a response to John Piper's interpretation of the Japanese earthquake and subsequent tragedies. Essentially, both authors are addressing the question, "What is God's relationship to suffering in the world?" The answers are detailed and complicated - Piper is staunchly Calvinist, and McLaren is spearheading the "Emergent Church." I would encourage reading the posts from both authors.

But one section of what McLaren wrote stuck out to me. I agree with his focus on Jesus, with his interpretation of the actions and ministry of Jesus while on earth. What McLaren offers isn't so much of an answer, but rather a "turning of our attention" away from theological questions, and back to the heart of the matter, namely our relationship with God.

"This, to me, is part of the scandal of the Incarnation and the scandal of the cross: that God, when God shows up in Christ, doesn’t take control. God in Christ doesn’t institute “martial law.” Nor does God in Christ unilaterally eliminate all that we call suffering and evil. Nor does God in Christ cause any additional suffering and evil. He doesn’t fly into Jerusalem on angel’s wings or a fighter jet, nor does he ride in on a white steed or tank, nor does he enter with well-armed guards or even sticks and stones.

Instead, we see Jesus going quietly from town to town, confronting suffering and evil, calling people to repentance for inflicting suffering and evil on one another, and healing and liberating people from suffering and evil at every turn. He doesn’t unilaterally impose even this healing on them though: he allows their faith, whether great or small, to make room for it. Finally, in Christ on the cross we see God’s ultimate way of dealing with suffering and evil: to bear it with endurance, to suffer it with tears and agony, to take it into God’s own heart, and to heal it utterly, not by avenging it, but by forgiving it. The kingdom or sovereignty of God that Jesus proclaims, then, doesn’t come with the power of unilateral control but with a radically different kind of power: the gentle power (Paul dares call it “weakness”) of love."

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

"Inside These Lines"

Just stumbled upon this song (Inside These Lines by Trent Dabbs) amidst a Paste music sampler from a few months ago. So sad I didn't hear it until now, although it seems somewhat appropriate given what I've been thinking about lately.

This line in particular struck me:

"Oh have we lost what we had inside these, inside these lines?
Could we watch this stay the same, all this time, just be fine?"

Like most pop songs, there is an obvious love song overtone. But when I'm thinking about "the other" in world religions, the inherent introspective-ness of Christianity, and our need to find and believe in a God bigger than our religion -- these lyrics are really hitting home for me today.

Here is the YouTube music video, which I think also connects to some of the above-stated spiritual themes:

"It's Really All About God" - A Review

I first posted about this book about two weeks ago, and I have just finished reading it this morning. Here is my attempt at a book review:

By far, the most compelling chapters of "It's Really All about God: Reflections of a Muslim Atheist Jewish Christian" are the Prologue and the Epilogue. In the intro, Selmanovic grabbed my attention and piqued my interest with the story of a Wiccan woman praying for evangelical pastors, a selection from the Sufi poet Rumi, and challenging questions like, "Is a God who favors anyone over anyone else worth worshiping?"

At first, it seems that Selmanovic is preparing to deliver a comprehensive theology of religious pluralism. He states that,

"the presence of the other in all its beauty, fragility, dignity, and need is demanding our answers. If God created all humanity but gave life-giving knowledge - usually referred to as 'revelation' - to only some of humanity, could God in any meaningful sense be though of as the One God and not only as a god?...To say that God has decided to visit all humanity through only one particular religion is a deeply unsatisfying assertion about God." (pg. 9)

But even in the prologue, the author quickly moves away from an academic approach and instead invites the reader to ponder his "reflections" (as the subtitle of the book says). He offers many questions, ideas and snippets to challenge the reader to seriously consider his premise: "For religion to recapture human imagination, the theology and practice of finding God in the other will have to move from the outskirts of our religious experience to its center. The heart of a religion that will bless the world is going to beat at its edges." (pg 13)

It is literary images like this last one - "the heart of a religion beating at the edges" - that are, at first easy to read, but jar the reader enough to go back and read them again, wondering about the significance of such an idea. Throughout the book, Selmanovic has the gift of putting into words the back-of-the-mind and deep-in-the-heart intuitions that many believers share, but have a hard time expressing (for one reason or another).

As previously stated, this is not an academic book. The typeface is large and generously spaced, and most pages have text boxes with short selections from the chapter. Most chapters begin with a personal story from the author's childhood or background in Yugoslavia. Initially, I was surprised and bit frustrated to have to read through these anecdotal accounts. I wanted more content and less fluff. But eventually I realized that the writing approach was intended to demonstrate several key points of the book.

First, the author successfully shows that he came as an outsider to Christianity and even religion at all. The stories of his family disowning him because of his faith and literally kicking him out of their home successfully provide a sort of "street credibility" to his later pronouncements about religious life. He can talk about "the other" because he has been "an other" in more ways than one. In a world often filled more with speculation than actual life experiences, I began to appreciate these stories because they made me realize that the author is not only offering a way to live that could be better, but he has actually lived this way for most of his life and now is sharing his experiences.

Second, by including personal stories in each chapter, another key point is subtly underlined again and again: This theology of "finding God in the other" can only be a reality in as much as it comes to life every day in each of us. It cannot be theoretical, it must be experiential. The personal stories of the author are a continual invitation to the reader to realize that my everyday life is also an experience of "finding God in the other," if I choose to live it that way.

Finally, while this book is not a self-proclaimed "emergent" book (published by Jossey-Bass, and not in one of the EV book series; it also sports no endorsements from any of the typical EV leaders), I think it goes as far as any emergent book written thus far in helping to explain what an emerging Christianity must (and does) look like. It is not a book solely considered with a theology of religious pluralism. Instead, the chapters address such topics as "The Secret of the Ordinary" (chp. 2; akin to "Transforming Secular Space" in Gibbs/Bolger), "The Blessing of Atheism" (chp 7; reminiscent of "a/theism" in Rollins), and "God Management Systems" (chp. 3; similar to the "New Kind of Christian" series by Brian McLaren). In short, the book aims to be as comprehensive as its title, attempting to offer a new way to understand how we understand and live with God, engage other people and their religion, and experience spirituality in a postmodern world.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

More thinking about hell....

A friend posted this video on his blog (a really good blog you should follow) - I wrote the following comment but thought I would repost it here in case anyone I knew had some comments.

This is my second time watching this clip this morning. The story about looking at the judgment painting in the Sistine chapel is powerful, and I remember sitting in that building awestruck by the art, but also trying to grapple with the future reality of such an event and the existence of Hell. I'm thankful that people like NT Wright are giving new language and ways to understand this crucial part of Christian theology.

But at the same time (at least in this 3 min. clip) I don't feel like he gives enough specifics to be provide a helpful re-framing of hell, judgment, or the consequences of our moral/ethical/real world choices. He says that these choices matter, and have implications, but only insofar as they either contribute to the decline or improvement of our wholistic human condition. That feels vague to me.

I also wonder if he is being fair to the biblical authors. It is certainly an unfair interpretation to read all references to "hell" or the like as strictly literal, but is it equally unfair to say the authors are trying to vividly and metaphorically describe a terrible the terrible potential of rejecting God? Are there places in which the biblical authors talk about the consequences of rejecting God in the same way NT Wright is talking about it here, or is he putting his own understanding back onto the 1st cent. writers.

I realize this is only a 3 min. clip, so it doesn't unpack it all. I have "Surprised by Hope" on order, and am looking forward to digging into it. The honest truth is that heaven/hell has been such a fundamental crux of my evangelical theology (as NT Wright says), it is challenging to rethink it.

Monday, January 25, 2010

The Question...

from ASBO Jesus

This simple turn of words reminds me of the concept that God is more of an event and interaction than a final destination at which to arrive. It also challenges the common assumption that those with the religious answers are "further along" spiritually than those who are questioning God and faith.

When we engage God, we find more questions. If we aren't being challenged with questions, maybe we aren't engaging with God. Like Thomas Merton said, "If you find God with great ease, perhaps it is not God that you have found."

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Seeing Dead People

I've had a few interesting conversations with coworkers lately about dreams, specifically seeing dead people in dreams. For example, a relative who has recently died or is in the process of dying, may visit a person in a dream and gives a very specific message, such as "don't be afraid," or "I love you and forgive you."

Stories like this are very common, and many of us may have experienced something similar. Personally, I don't think I have ever seen a dead person in my dreams. But the people who have experienced this describe it as more than a dream, as being very realistic, and the correlation with real life events is significant enough to solicit serious reflection.

I have studied angels and demons in the Bible fairly extensively, and I am convinced that according to the Christian tradition, human beings do not become angels (or demons) when we die. Angels are essentially different beings from humans, and there is no "cross-over." Neither do we have unlimited power to do as we please, passing through universes at will (see Seinfeld clip below, start around 0:50).

But what about messages from the dead? The rich man wants Lazarus to come back from heaven to warn his family (but this is a parable from Jesus). On the mount of transfiguration Jesus is joined by Moses and Elijah, but they only talk to Jesus and not to the disciples (it seems). There are ambiguous references to "seers" throughout the Bible, but I don't know if this means living people who could speak to dead people, or if they were future-tellers, or something else.

There are many questions: Where do we go when we die? " Christians believe in some sort of eternal life. But what about in the meantime? Are there ghosts? Do dead people visit living people? If Jesus physically arose from the dead, where is he now?

Can our experiences of seeing dead people be explained by other means? I think there are at least two possibilities: 1) Self-hallucinations, or just simply dreams that don't have any correspondence with "reality" (spiritual or physical). 2) Other spiritual "impersonating" humans (angels in human form, demons in human form).

What do you think? Have you seen dead people, ghosts, demons, angels or otherwise? Do you know of more biblical evidence about this issue? I think it's a pretty interesting topic.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Affirmation and Denial

More from Pete Rollins....please come out tomorrow for the conversation

"I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I do not serve at the
feet of the oppressed, each day that I turn my back on the poor; I deny
the resurrection of Christ when I close my ears to the cries of the
downtrodden and lend my support to an unjust and corrupt system.

However there are moments when I affirm that resurrection, few and
far between as they are. I affirm it when I stand up for those who are
forced to live on their knees, when I speak for those who have had
their tongues torn out, when I cry for those who have no more tears
left to shed."

This is such a profound twist on affirmation and denial - we emphasize in evangelical circles that we must "believe" and "have faith," but do we really affirm the resurrection? Or do we deny it every day? I can't do much more right now than retreat into my own contemplative pondering of my own denial of the resurrection....

How terrible will that day be when we wake up, thinking we have lived a life of faith, of trust, of so-call truth - only to find that we were self-deceived, inebriated, fools of the worst kind...

How will I answer the questions then? What useless apologies will I offer? And how much guilt does it take before I actually change....

Sunday, January 25, 2009

I've been surveying a lot of Peter Rollins lately, in part because he has been putting a lot out on the web, and also in anticipation of him visiting the cohort next week. I just watched the YouTube video above, and it reminded me of several themes and questions I've been rolling around in my own head an in my classroom for a few months now.

Last year I read a chapter of Shane Claiborne's "Irresistible Revolution" with a senior class, and we came across the question he takes from Tony Campolo, "Would you still be a Christian if there was no heaven or hell?" I find it to be such a compelling question - one that strips away all of my ulterior motives and gets the real heart of what I am doing as a Christian, and more importantly, why I am doing it.

When I read "Fidelity of Betrayal" last May, I was fascinated by the idea of God being an event that shakes up my world and causes me to desire more and to desire to explore. Rollins talks about God as the eruption of a volcano - he says, "Revelation enters our world as a wound of unknowing. It ruptures our present in the guise of an eschatological 'to come.' ... we do not encounter a revelation that makes God manifest, nor a revelation that places God at an absolute distance; rather, God's distance is maintained in overwhelming presence." (pgs. 121, 123)

In the YouTube clip above, Rollins compares this idea to a ship in the bottom of the ocean - the ocean contains all of the ship but the ship only has part of the ocean. I also think about the overwhelming presence of the mountains we saw in Utah - they are right in your face, right in front of you, but yet their magnitude makes them feel so far away, so distant and other worldly. Even when you are literally on top of the mountain (wondering how your little snowboard will carry you down), you are most in awe of the magnitude, and you feel the most overwhelmed.

When I listen to and read Rollins work, I'm challenged to think about God more as an encounter, a relationship, a living and inspiring being, and less like the list of doctrinal ins and outs that separate and make me better than the person next to me. It also makes me think of a God that is much bigger than my experience; a God that is rupturing all over the world at any given point.

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Now playing: Thursday - Between Rupture And Rapture

Our Visit to the Mormon Temple Square

While in Utah last weekend, we were able to stop by the Mormon Temple square. The Mormons were incredibly welcoming - much more so than other religious tourist spots I've been to in Europe. They were open until 9pm, welcomed visitors into almost every building (except the temple, to be explained more in a minute), and didn't charge a penny (except meter parking on the street).

The visit was interesting and we learned a lot of information. For example, the temple itself (which was the main reason I wanted to visit), is off limits, even to Mormons. It is only used for four specific purposes: 1) Weddings, 2) Baptisms, 3) Teachings, 4) Prayer. When I asked one of the "sisters" if they worshiped there on Sundays, she sort of laughed, and said "no," they worship at the various "chapels" (read churches) across the city. So the temple is not like a grand cathedral and gathering point for Mormons, but has very specific purposes in the religion.

I asked one of the sisters a lot about her "calling" and how she came to work at the temple square. She said it was not required, but Mormons from around the world can apply to be "missionaries." Their application is received and reviewed by the highest "prophet" in the religion, who then determines if the individual should be accepted, and where they will serve, which could be anywhere around the world. At the temple square, there were about 160 sisters serving (they were literally around every corner) and they came from all over the world: Brazil, Philippines, Argentina, U.S.A. They also "served" in pairs, I guess to be more accommodating or helpful? The women serve for 18 months; the men who receive a call serve for 2 years, and can do similar work or can be door-to-door evangelists (although it was basically all younger, fairly attractive women at the temple square, which struck me as very odd).

The Tabernacle was first a hall for preaching, and now is used for concerts - it has incredible acoustics as demonstrated by one of the sisters in a somewhat humorous manner: tearing newspaper and dropping pins and a nail. They also have the home of Brigham Young, but we didn't visit it.

In the visitor centers there was a lot of information. One had many pictures and stories of Jesus, and even a bigger-than-life-size statue of him with stars and planets painted on the ceiling and an audio "invitation." Apparently the conference center (which seats about 21,000 - I didn't visit it), has many pictures and stories of Joseph Smith. Another visitor center had information about their living prophets: There are twelve (to correspond with the disciples) and one head prophet, or "president" (who seems to function much like the Roman Catholic Pope). He makes official prophecies twice a year, preaches regularly, and his words are taken as straight from God.

I guess my main impression of the visit was that the religion (I guess it is no longer viewed as a cult because of the many members), seemed pretty strange. The sisters were all trained to ask the same questions, and it was clear they wanted you to learn about Joseph Smith. Although they were open to other questions, and weren't too pushy, it seemed obvious that the reason the temple square is so open to visitors is that they hope for converts. They all carried around a Book of Mormon in a plastic bag, and seemed somewhat robotic. Not being able to go in the temple gave it a real mystery (see NPR article), but for such a big building, you really wondered what went on inside. The sisters always referred to it as a "house of God," like a cathedral or church, but those are open to anyone who wants to pray or connect with God.

What is interesting to me is to think about what it must be like for a non-Christian to see Christians doing their "religious" activities, whether that is in a church, or evangelizing, or events or whatever. It must look so strange and peculiar, just like the Mormons seem to me. What is unknown and not understood seems odd at first glance. And when there is not the apriori acceptance of religious doctrine, it all seems pretty goofy. Why believe that this guy is a modern prophet and his word is God's word? Why focus so much on Brigham Young and Joseph Smith? But the same questions could be asked about Jesus of Nazareth, the Pope, and any pastor in any Christian church.

Another question that my friends and I discussed while we walked across the frozen temple square, was whether or not Mormons should be considered Christians at all. For some this answer may be obvious, or it may be irrelevant - but for me its really interesting. I have always been taught that Mormonism was a Christian cult, a deviant from the truths of Scripture, primarily in their use of the Book of Mormon and misunderstanding of the Trinity, specifically Jesus Christ. But being right in the middle of their religion, I had the following thoughts:

1) It really boils down to a question of continuing revelation. Protestants believe God's revelation ended with the apostles. Roman Catholics believe it continues with apostolic succession. Muslims believe it continued and changed drastically with Mohammad, and Mormons believe Joseph Smith offered a new revelation (hence the subtitle of the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ). This might seem like a conversation stopper for Protestants, but ours is essentially a continuing revelation as well - we believe Jesus offered a new (and final) revelation that continued, fulfilled and completed the Hebrew Scriptures. So when comparing all religions, it seems an important question is, "When and where does the story end?" (and obviously, "why there and not somewhere else?")

2) Mormons really believe in Jesus. It seemed to me that despite all the aberrant practices and quirks, the center of the religion is Jesus Christ. So we might ask, how much do you have to "get right" to be a Christian? Do you have to fully and properly understand the Trinity? (Tony Jones discussed this a bit.) Do you have to fully and properly understand "the Scriptures?" (which ones? Hebrew? Greek? Apocryphal?) I'm not sure if faith and relationship with God is about an entrance exam, and so I'm hopeful that as Mormons center their faith around Jesus Christ, they really are connecting with the living God.

3) All religions are really funky and peculiar. Not sure what else to say about that - I love religion. I love watching Muslims circle the Kaaba in prayer. I love hearing the Muslim call to prayer. I was in awe of the Mormon Temple. I love Christian worship - but when you step back and look at it all from a somewhat objective standpoint, there is a certain part of you that just thinks it is plain weird. Perhaps that is indicative of something else? Like an "echo" of another life, another purpose, another existence? Or maybe it's just that humans do a great job contaminating the spiritual life.