Responding to the Death of Osama bin Laden

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.
(Matthew 5:43-45)

For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
(Matthew 6:14-15)

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." To the contrary, "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
(Romans 12:14-21)

Enemy love is at the center of the Gospel.  Anyone who says otherwise is making excuses to defend their own non-biblical perspective.

Jesus’ Passion and Power

But Jesus remained silent. And the high priest said to him, "I adjure you by the living God, tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God." Jesus said to him, "You have said so. But I tell you, from now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven."
(Matthew 26:63-64)

Every time I read the accounts of Jesus’ arrest, trial and crucifixion, I always seem to make new connections. Christians have always, and should always, emphasize the point that Christ did not fight back with violence against his oppressors, but I think we do him an injustice if we forget his striking statements during his trial. At his baptism, God’s voice declares “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Immediately after Satan tempts him saying, “If you are the Son of God.” And now Caiaphas invokes God’s name asking Jesus if he the Son of God. I think we often confuse these accusations as statements of status, either Jesus is God’s son or he is not. However, the way Caiaphas and Satan are wording their questions shows that they are doubting Jesus’ job description not his pedigree.

The Son of Man from Daniel 7 is imbued with dominion and glory and a kingdom. If Jesus is God’s son, where is the might that makes right? Kings do not enter into cities on a donkey, they come in on war horses and chariots. We want Jesus to call down legions of angels and start defeating Roman centurions, but as we shall see on Good Friday, it will be a Roman Centurion – a man who knows both power and violence – who will identify God’s Son.

How frustrated must Caiaphas have been? Jesus who is captured and on his way to his death has the gall to say “you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.” At Gethsemane, Jesus was most certainly anxious, but now it seems like he has a vision of “the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2). Jesus is unwilling to accept the power of the world because he knows the true power he is to take up. This stands in stark contrast to the chief priests who will later bow before Rome saying, “We have no king but Caesar” (John 19:15).

Lord, help us to worship only true power. Help us take up our cross that we may follow it.

Oscar Romero to his enemies…

And so, brothers and sisters,

I repeat again what I have said here so often,

addressing by radio those who perhaps have caused

so many injustices and acts of violence,

those who have brought tears to so many homes,

those who have stained themselves

with the blood of so many murders,

those who have hands soiled with tortures,

who are unmoved

to see under their boots a person abased,

suffering,

perhaps ready to die.

To all of them I say:

No matter your crimes.

They are ugly and horrible,

and you have abased the highest dignity

of a human person,

but God calls you

and forgives you.

And here perhaps arises the aversion of those

who feel they are laborers from the first hour.

How can I be in heaven with those criminals?

Brothers and sisters, in heaven

there are no criminals.

The greatest criminal, once repented of his sins,

is now a child of God.

- Oscar Romero. September 24, 1978 from The Violence of Love.

States of Confusion: Or Why I Am an Anglican Anabaptist Reformed Liberation Mystic

I would say that over the past few years I’ve dealt with some serious things in my life.  However, be them spiritual, psychological, emotional and or physical issues I would never say that I have experienced a “crisis of faith.”  Recently during my exodus from Arizona to my home state of Virginia, I’ve had many people inquire as to whether I still believe the same things I once professed.  For lack of a better explanation, I have always answered yes because I still believe the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed (although I will admit it doesn’t matter all that much to me whether the Spirit proceeds from the Father or the Son).  At the same time though, I find myself bouncing off the walls of theological and spiritual inquiry. 

For at least the last four years, I have heavily identified with Reformed (read Calvinist) theology.  I’ve taught classes at churches on theology, church history, comparative religion, and Postmodernism largely without encountering any cognitive dissonance in regards to what I believe.  I’ve always been open minded when it comes to theology because I usually just gravitate towards what seems to make the most sense.  That said, most of the people around me have not afforded themselves such luxury.  My uber-Reformed friends make a point to Tweet about every little thing they hear that bolsters neo-Calvinism and puts down “weak” theology (weak=feminine, abstract, or liberal).  Meanwhile I’m reading anything I can get my hands on and trying my best to take it all in.  My recent reading list has included, but is not limited too:

• The New Testament and the People of God by N.T. Wright
• The Politics of Jesus by John Howard Yoder
• A Theology of Liberation by Gustavo Gutiérrez
• Anarchy and Christianity by Jacques Ellul
• The Peaceable Kingdom by Stanley Hauerwas
• Strength to Love by Martin Luther King, Jr.
• Various books by Henri Nouwen
• The Violence of Love by Oscar Romero
• Ethics by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
• The Kingdom of God is Within You by Leo Tolstoy

I will fully admit that this list is probably not as diverse as it could be, but it does not comprise every book on theology I have ever read, just those I’ve read recently.

So what am I to do with what I’ve learned?  My first thought was to use my learning to educate those around me and strive for unity and discussion among believers (and I haven’t necessarily abandoned this initial thought completely).  But recently everywhere I turn I find people striving for exactly the opposite.  Don’t believe me?  Go on Twitter and search for Rob Bell.  Just the release of the title of his new book has made some people lose their minds!  Now I’ve been a rather outspoken critic of Mr. Bell in the past, but really people? At least I waited until I had a chance to read his book before I disagreed with him.  The Bell controversy is an obvious one.   Next, Google “N.T. Wright and John Piper.”  Read a few blogs and you will see that Piper seems to be pitting himself against Wright over what some would argue is a semantic argument.  Some crazies have almost asserted some sort of Matthew 16:19 argument insisting that Wright’s different view of justification threatens to release all Christians from assurance of salvation. 

I do not write this post to contribute anything to the discussion other than this.  The more I know, the more I know how much I do not know.  I plan on expounding upon this further, but I’d love some initial feedback.

Behind the Christian Cliché: "In the world, but not of it."

I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth. "I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.
(John 17:14-21)

In the Christian circles I run in, the buzz words I hear all the time are missional, evangelical, and relevant. While I do not think that these terms are harmful, I am unsure of their effectiveness in relaying the message of the Christian lifestyle to the pew sitter. I think 21st century Christianity (at least in the United States) works like this:

1. The Pastor decides what he wants to talk about.
2. The Pastor then waters down his topic enough to make himself comfortable with it.
3. The Pastor additionally waters down his topic enough to not offend his Congregation (maintain job security).
4. The Pastor preaches to the Congregation
5. The Congregation hears and understands about 50% of the sermon, mostly the funny parts.
6. The Congregation then waters down the message so they don't have to change their lifestyle.
7. Christianity continues to look more and more like the surrounding secular culture.

While this is a sweeping generalization of Christian churches, I am afraid it is not too far off. Christians do however, maintain some clichés that help us to feel like we are really God's people living in a fallen world. One of these clichés is the idea that Christians should be "in the world, but not of it." When people say this, what they mean is that Christians are supposed to live in the midst of the world, but not live in the same way as the world. You can be a Christian and a businessman, because you can be in the business world, but not of it.

I worry that the we have watered down this concept so far as to make it unrecognizable. We have turned "in the world, but not of it" into a dualism between Christianity and so-called "everyday life." Here's an example: We think to ourselves, I can be rich, live in a big house, drive expensive cars, buy my wife expensive jewelry, and give my kids expensive playthings as long as I have the right set of beliefs (a la the Trinity and salvation by grace through faith). Here's another example: I can promote patriotism and nationalism, as long as I remember that we are "One nation under God." My last example: It's okay that I only associate with people exactly like me, as long as I remember that everyone is made in the image of God. These examples make me sick to my stomach, mostly because I can see myself in each of them.

Christians must stop ascribing to what the world considers normal. I have been challenged by people who say, "Why resist the way things are going? If we live differently it won't change anything." I think this is exactly the wrong attitude and such a perspective comes from Satan. We do not follow Jesus because it is a means to an end (i.e. the Christianization of the United States). We are to follow Christ because he offers the only true way. In Luke 12, Jesus is telling his followers to not worry about food, clothing or storing up goods and then he says:

For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. "Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys.
(Luke 12:30-33)

I believe that Christians don't live the way Jesus called us to live because they have a nagging doubt in the back of their mind that the Kingdom Jesus speaks of isn't real. It is much easier to ascribe to the ongoing systems in this world that we can see operating everyday. I believe this is the major calling of the Gospel that we have forgotten: Follow Jesus and believe that what he said is true, even if it seems contrary to the way things appear. It is easy to put our hope in Capitalism, political parties, or lifestyles of the rich and famous because we can see them happening everyday. As followers of Jesus we have a higher calling to be members of a better Kingdom. We do not have to be afraid to sell our possessions and give to the needy, or to turn the other cheek and pray for those who persecute us. Jesus says that is our Father's good pleasure to give us that Kingdom, because that is taking "hold of that which is truly life" (1 Timothy 6:19).

In C.S. Lewis' masterful work The Silver Chair, the story climaxes with the characters being trapped in the underworld of an evil witch. Her plan is to trap them in the underworld by convincing them that their world is not real. One of the characters answers her with this statement:

One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a playworld which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia.

This is what it means to be in the world, but not of it. Satan is trying to deceive us into believing that this world, this kingdom is all there is. We are to trust Jesus' call to live in the Kingdom of God. We do not need to hold onto the worldly status quo (politics, economics, materialism, greed, apathy, violence, etc..), we need simply to live as though the Gospel is True.

Why pluralism is a good thing...

If you know me well, or have ever spent more than four minutes with me, you probably understand that I have opinions. I have strong opinions on theology, music, books, sports, regions of the United States, and various other subject areas. More than that, I love sharing my opinions; and when I say sharing my opinions, I really mean trying to convince you that my opinions are in fact, correct.

As a lover of music, books, sports, the southeastern United States, and a multitude of other frivolities, I am fully alright with the fact that people with disagree with me. Not everyone has my taste in everything, and while I may still try to convert you love the books of Kurt Vonnegut, I am still able to sleep at night knowing that some do not. However, when it comes to religion, I am far more apprehensive about saying that I am right and you are right. Some of my more conservative friends would indeed say that it is a critical point of the Christian faith that Jesus is "the way, the truth and the life" and the sole path to God. While I do not disagree with that fact, I am constantly trying to understand how such a reality is properly lived out in the world.

For instance, you have your classic evangelical apologist who insists that the only logical stance is to believe in God. "Look at the trees and the mountains and the stars: they all prove the existence of a creator," they say. On the other hand, you have your militant evolutionary biology touting atheist. "God is a delusion and to believe otherwise is to spit in the face of all that science has taught us," they exclaim with much the same insistence as a revival preacher. I am confused by both of these people. I believe God exists and I believe that science explains much of how the world came to be. It is not the scientific debate that concerns me, it is the foundation behind the argument.

I hear Christians quoting Psalm 14: "The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God.'" I believe in scripture, but I am not sure that all the atheists in the world are simply not smart enough to assent to some theological assertions. Does not Jeremiah 17:9 say, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" I want people to know and love God, but anyone will be convinced to follow Jesus by theological propositions. Furthermore, I think most Christians understand more theological facts than they do existential realities of following Jesus. More "believers" can tell you that God is omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent than can tell you the names of the widows or impoverished in their church (if there even are any).

I have spent much of my time trying to know as much as I can about Christianity: the Bible, church history, Hebrew, systematic theology, hermeneutics, apologetics, and the works of C.S. Lewis. Often times, everything I know leaves me feeling cold, confused and further from God than I want to be. This is not a confession of doubt in God, but rather a deep doubt in what we are able to know. I am certain about my faith, but I am uncertain about life. Pluralism is a good thing because it reminds me that I am not the only person that does not know everything. I think some of my beliefs are more correct than those of others (sometimes much more and sometimes not so much).

As a Religious Studies major, I often see my colleagues becoming interested in or involved in the Interfaith movement. I am not so interested in this movement. My experience has been that many in the Interfaith movement want to tell me why even though I am a Christian, I am also a Jew, Buddhist, and Hindu. I grow very frustrated with these people because I do not understand why I would want to be all of those things. Such a life would seem to me to be riddled with contradictions. Can I eat pork or beef? Am I only to eat vegetables? Are there many gods who are a manifestation of one or is there only one god, or none? No, I definitely cannot and do not want to be a member of multiple religions. The "all paths lead to the same place idea" is nonsensical to me.

However, pluralism in its cultural sense is fantastic because it allows us to live together. That's a start, I think.

Grieving the Holy Spirit (Part 1)

And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.

(Ephesians 4:30)

Lately, I have spent much time meditating and reflecting on the enormous gravity of my sin. While this is not the most entertaining and lighthearted pastime, it has been one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. When we think of sin, we tend to think of specific actions such as lying, stealing, adultery, murder, and other deplorable deeds. The problem with such a view of sin is that we usually fail to bring the conviction we need. We Christians are usually far too easy on ourselves when it comes to the places where sin is present in our lives.

I have this theory that there has been a shift in evangelical Christianity over the past 100 or so years. The discussion of sin has moved from the sins of the congregations to the sins of the pagans. The major moral issues that evangelicalism has taken on have been twofold: Homosexuality and abortion. The problem with this very narrow-minded moral view is that it requires nothing from the churchgoer. The preacher tells his congregation, "Do not be a homosexual!" And they respond, "Thank you Jesus for not making me a homosexual!" The preacher says, "Do not have abortions!" The men respond, "Well there's nothing I can do about that." The women respond, "I haven't had an abortion, so I must be perfect." Meanwhile, the sin that the church is not addressing is running rampant in the congregation.

I just recently finished a fairly in-depth study of the book of Isaiah and there is one passage that I continue to think about again and again:

Like a pregnant woman who writhes and cries out in her pangs when she is near to giving birth, so were we because of you, O LORD; we were pregnant, we writhed, but we have given birth to wind. We have accomplished no deliverance in the earth, and the inhabitants of the world have not fallen.

(Isaiah 26:17-18)

This passage resonates in my heart in such a profound way it is almost breathtaking. I look back at my life as a Christian -- my purportedly "new life" -- and I see how much God has done. I recollect about the times when I have been brought to tears by the beauty of Christ's death and resurrection. I remember missions trips, specific instances of intercessory prayer, and every great sermon I have ever heard. I see all the ways in which I have been moved by the Holy Spirit, but still allow sin to have its way with me. I think about Paul's words to the Ephesians where he says, "we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them" (Ephesians 2:10), but I feel more like I am grieving the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 4:30).

I am convinced that I cannot continue living my life this way. I recently read a fascinating quote from Jacques Cousteau (who actually is paraphrasing Gandhi):

“If we go on the way we have, the fault is our greed [and] if we are not willing [to change], we will disappear from the face of the globe, to be replaced by the insect.”

As a Christian, I have long thought that my sin was a personal issue between God and myself. When I am angry, I owe God an apology for not being loving. When I am greedy, I ought to ask God for forgiveness for my lack of generosity. While I still think that sin is between us and God, I think that Satan has fed us lies that our sins does not have an effect outside of ourselves. Obviously, if I murdered someone this would effect the person I murdered, that person's family, and probably other people as well. But we don't tend to think about other sins in this way. When I am being greedy, I am preventing myself from being generous. Therefore, I am sinning against those in need around me. When I am angry, I am not loving my neighbor, so I probably need to ask for forgiveness from whoever my neighbor happens to be at the time.

Sin prevents us from living as a fruitful citizens of the Kingdom. The message of the Gospel is not only (or even primarily) about what we receive from Jesus, but rather what Jesus enables us to give back (see 2 Corinthians 5:14-15). Christians are not called to become rulers, but servants. Maybe when Paul tells us not to grieve the Holy Spirit, he is reminding us that our sin inhibits the Holy Spirit from working in us "to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13). For the rest of this "Grieving the Holy Spirit" series, I am going to talk about some sins I think are prevalent among the church (because I know they are in my own heart) and what good works they are keeping us from.