Wednesday 30 December 2015

113. Falling into the hands of the Living God



Hebrews 10:31 It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

There is a story that on Yom Kippur, as the priest readied to go into the Holy of Holies the other priests would tie a rope around his ankle or waist. This was so that if entering the presence of God killed the man, they could drag his body out.  It is a better image than I have of God pitching the dead man back through the curtain and yelling, “Next!”
          There is no historical accuracy to this story, but as with all stories, I think it contains a kernel of truth. I would think that the story developed out of the idea of what being in the presence of the living God would be like, and that it would be life altering, if not threatening. 
          We are called to have the presence of the Living God come into our lives.  I understand why I, and others, seek to limit the effects of that exposure.  For me, there has always been a level of distrust and desire to live my life out as I want to live it out.  There is resistance to the idea of letting go and letting God.
         
So here is the pivotal question of faith.  At least for me. And yes, you can find scriptures that support either argument.  But the question is; are we called into relationship with God because we are disobedient and are in need of correction? Or, are we called into relationship with him because we need healing?

I think of the parable of the prodigal son.  Let’s call the prodigal son, Tom.  And Tom, was not prodigal, he was selfish.  Most of us cannot appreciate the level of disrespect that Tom showed towards his father.  It was truly insulting.  And remember, this was within a culture that at one point would take such a disrespectful son and the men of the town would stone him to death. (Deut. 21:18 – 21)  But not so this father, he gives Tom what he wants, then Tom takes off.
          We know in the parable what occurs with Tom.  He goes off and blows his money on wine, women, and song.  Then Tom, being broke and alone, hires himself out as a slave.  But I wonder what the father’s experience was like?  How often did he think of Tom?  Were there sleepless nights?  We get a glimpse of what the father must have gone through as the parable is told.
          When Tom was still a far distance off, the father saw him.  How often did the dad look out into the distance to see if his son was returning? For the dad runs out to meet Tom.  He is overjoyed at Tom’s return.
          It is not the image of a father angry and waiting to seek vengeance on Tom and his disobedience.  The dad did not grab Tom and yell at him.  Tom is embraced and welcomed back with open arms and a celebration.  The story ends there, but I get the sense that Tom’s acceptance back home continued to be a joyous event.

I can relate to Tom, and at times I had chats with God when I told him to leave me alone.  Those chats came from an understanding of God that was toxic.  My belief, I am reluctant to call it faith, was based on fear, and trauma.  The world around me was chaotic, and abusive.  The idea that I had this life to enjoy before I was sent off to suffer for an eternity, seemed to be legitimate.
          And like Tom, the prodigal son, it was only when I was destitute that I sought out God.  I did that only because I was told that the recovery from my addiction lay in a relationship with God.  It was only through that surrender that I have come to know God for who he or she is.

While my understanding of God has changed drastically over the years, it has not really been a dreadful thing.  It has been a process whereby the less guarded I become, the more I experience God’s love and grace.  And as I experience more of God’s love and grace, the less guarded I feel I have to be. 
          In coming to God, we do need to be prepared to have our lives changed.  Sometimes it is drastic, sometimes for souls such as myself, it is gentle but persistent.  But always, entering the presence of the living God is life altering.

Wednesday 23 December 2015

112. The Way Out



Luke 2:10 – 12 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

An atheist author once offered the following observation, “religion ruins everything.”  It may come as no surprise that I agree with him.  I think there is a significant difference between the institutional religion of Christianity, and the spirituality of following Christ.  That difference is not insignificant, and that difference leads to a drastic shift in experience.
          Consider this quote from Isaiah 29:13
“These people come near to me with their mouth
                   and honor me with their lips,
                   but their hearts are far from me.
          Their worship of me is based on merely human rules they have been taught.

The past four posts have been about the religion of Christianity.  And for the most part, I see religion as a competition for deciding who God loves best.      At its very base level, religion is about mitigating the randomness of life, and our insignificance by gaining favour with God.  The Christianity that I see practiced, well most often practiced, is based on personal gain.  We talk about personal salvation, storing treasures up in heaven, and developing our personal righteousness.  And there is something about this approach that strikes me as very wrong. 
          The difficulty with this approach is that it uses the spiritual economy of debts owed, and ingratiating ourselves to God to gain favour.  This very approach in turn seeks for us to quest for certainty.  This certainty we crave, is at the heart of our idolatry.
          Yes, my spirituality is very personal. And yes, there is obviously personal gain to be made by my encounters with Jesus.  Yet, it seems to me that my faith is about being restored; and restored may be the wrong word.  Being brought into wholeness seems more accurate, for I do not think I have ever had an opportunity for wholeness.  As with any relationship, there are ebbs and flows, successes and challenges.  As we mature, our understanding of God becomes more complete than when we first came to believe. 

So this is what I understand.  God desires to be in relationship with the world around us. That is the point of the Christmas Story.  I love the Christmas Story, of Christ coming to earth as an illegitimate child.  Of all the ways that God could come to earth, this was the coolest.  He did not come in power and majesty, the heavens did not open up as he descended from heaven.  Jesus came as an infant, totally dependent on those around him, born into questionable circumstances and probably into poverty.  Pause for a moment and think of what your reaction, or your church’s, might be to an unwed mother?
          I also think about how he met with people.  He entered their homes, he ate with them, a rather intimate act.  It did not matter who you were, or what you had done, he was interested in you.  He did not demand that people clean up their act before they came to him.  He wanted to know people in the midst of their pain, their confusion, their fucked-uppedness.  And these days, two thousand years later, he still is interested in us.
          This is what convinces me to have faith.  That I do not have to be good enough – whatever being good comprises – in order to come to God.  In fact, I think the author of the Revelation got it right when he wrote, “Behold I stand at the door knocking.” God seeks us out.
          These last posts have not been meant to trip you up. Rather, I have sought to encourage you to take a radical step of faith.  Maybe, just maybe, they have also sought to encourage me to take a radical step.  To look behind the curtain of our faith, to see what lies behind.  That radical step?  To let go of self interest. 

A friend of mine talks about falling in love with the Holy Spirit.  He claims that until one has been smitten by the spirit, one cannot understand the life of faith that we are called to live. As I have stated before the difference is fundamental.  It is the difference between obedience based on the fear of punishment, and the obedience based on the desire for a closer union with God, and the natural response to love.
          Consider the words of Jesus that those who love him will keep his commands.  Then consider the difference those three approaches to obedience will have in understanding.  I could draw out personal experiences from my own life, but I think you get the idea.
          For me, this step, losing self-interest, and embracing the experience of being with God holds the most challenge for me. For the next series of posts I want to explore what this means. Til then I leave you with, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:35
          So as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, of the light entering the dark, I will be grateful for the way out that is offered.

Sunday 20 December 2015

111. The Idolatry of the Bible

2 Timothy 3:16&17 “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”

The last installment on this series of that which we idolize in our spirituality is the bible.  And before I get going let me be clear, I have a reverence for scripture.  I agree with the verse in 2 Timothy.  My faith is largely based on scripture.  I also see what 2 Tim 3:16 & 17 does NOT say. First, my understanding is that this passage would refer to the Old Testament – the Jewish scriptures, but for argument sake, I include the New Testament. Second, it states that scripture is inspired – God breathed, not that it is without errors. Third, it also does NOT say that all scripture is literal.
              Yet, through the doctrine of inerrancy we have made the bible part of divinity.  We have given the Bible the same stature as God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.  We use our interpretation of scripture as being the direct decree of God.  I have previously discussed how we pick and choose from the Bible.  This carries it one step further.  That what I pick and choose is the way it is – God said it, I believe it, and that settles it.
              There is only one problem with this approach.  It is utter nonsense.

First, scripture itself is not inerrant.  There a number of mistakes in it, and some quite significant.  The census that is used for the cause of why Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem did not happen when scripture says it did.  And while that may not change the significance of the story, it does alter it.  As well, the question then is asked if that was not accurate, what else is not accurate?
        The census is discussed here - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Census_of_Quirinius

         Second, the bible was written in three different languages, by dozens of different authors.  Some of the recordings are centuries after the events happened. Some of the Bible was written by committee.  But none, not one word, was written for the context of present day North America.  Further, not one word, jottle, tittle, or dot, was written to you.  
              Third, a concerning number of Christians do not read the thing.  The reading of scripture is left to others to do. 
              Far too often, the entire concept of the inerrancy of the bible is nothing more than theological bullying.  It ends the entire conversation. To use one of my favorites examples, the doctrine of penal substitution. Often when I challenge this doctrine, I am dealt with as though my faith is questionable.  Yet, when I offer verses that challenge this doctrine I am shut down by stating my understanding of scripture is lacking – and therein lies a subtle truth.

Let’s forgo the entire argument about biblical inerrancy. For the sake of this entry I will go one step further than scripture being God inspired – let’s say that it is God dictated.  Thus, as you read scripture it is from the mouth of God, to the ear of the writer, to the paper.  Thus the entire Bible is without error. 
              Even with that being the case, as you read, you interpret.  One's own experiences, biases, and understandings shape what we read. That is a good as it gets.  One time when I was being corrected on my misunderstanding of the doctrine of hell, the person correcting me offered to tell me what Paul meant by a specific verse.  And in all fairness to the person involved, I do the same.  I would imagine that you might do so as well.
              I stopped the person and asked them if they had written the verse. Of course not! I then asked if the verse was written to them.  Of course not!  The person was none to pleased with me when I countered that they could not explain what Paul meant.  The best the person could do was offer me an interpretation of the verse.  And the best we can do is not be wrong.

But as with the other aspects of where we engage in idolatry, we in fact limit God.  God is not made better, bigger, more loving or compassionate by the doctrine of inerrancy.  When the answers aren’t clear, when scripture is questioned and challenged is when our faith has an opportunity to flourish and grow.      It is in the prayerful contemplation of why would God do this?  Was that simply how it seemed to the people who were writing it?  How does this impact my striving to be a good Christian?  These and other questions, and the answers, is where I believe I meet God. 

              Karen Armstrong, whose journey of faith has been as convoluted as my own, talks of the point of scripture is often to read it until the Grace of God can been seen.  She then adds that sometimes it takes longer to see the Grace of God in some verses. 

Monday 14 December 2015

110. The Idolatry of Our Teachers



2 Tim 4:3 & 4  For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.

If you are following this series of blog posts, be reassured that there is a point to this, and I will get to it – eventually.  But as I have taken a step into a deeper faith, or of obedience, I also feel compelled to examine what I am called into following.  I also, want to examine the predicament that confronts us, or at least me, in following our Lord.
          In order to do so, I want to explore how we deceive ourselves.  This is not simply an exercise of pointing out the flaws of others, for I include myself, if not in fact take a lead from my self-deception.  And thus this post...

A while back I wrote about a rather popular pastor who after rising to great fame and following, was exposed for various hypocrisies.  It matters not who he was, for there is no shortage of likely candidates.  It is a scenario that often is repeated.
          I have seen it in action.  And while there is generally an abundance of blame and criticism leveled at the offending minister, I think the blame lies squarely with those who have created him, or her.  In short, it is far too common for us to worship the person behind the pulpit.

At one point I was involved, marginally involved, with a church that had a very charismatic preacher.  He was entertaining, and he was funny, and there were things that he said, that even today, hold value to me.  But what I noticed is that he always seemed angry, and the people kind of liked that edge.  And his theology was also questionable – understand that I hold almost everyone’s theology suspect, this would include mine – but his seemed even more so than others.
          I remember talking to one of the congregation about this dilemma.  He was a man who was a gifted speaker, but his teachings seemed off.  The answer was, “Yeah, I know what you are talking about, but he is so entertaining.”
          And therein lays the problem. While this man preached, he made Christianity popular.  The church had grown considerably larger.  At the time that I walked away from the church, there were two services, and since then there have been more services added.  Those who initially supported this man and his mission, the church started out as a church plant, have long since left. 
          If this church follows that others that I, and you, have witnessed, at some point in the distant or not too distant future, a scandal will strike this church.  Money and power always seem to be the down fall.  What is sad, is that this man who is so revered now, will be despised. Those who have pushed him to glory, will seek to absolve themselves of responsibility.

Our pastors, our leaders, have to be examples of our faith.  It is part of the role they play in leading the church.  We, not as their followers, but as members of the church need to do our part; and that is not sitting in a chair being entertained. We have a responsibility.
          At the minimum it is to ensure that our time, energy and money go to a church that extends a message that is honest, and conforms to scripture.  At the very minimum.  We cannot create superstar pastors without a fan base.  If you are part of a fan base, you are part of the problem. 
          What I see as the problem, is that just like how we create an idolized god, or an idolized self, we create idolized leaders.  We seek out leaders that are powerful, charismatic, and popular.  Added to this, is that many of us approach our faith as if we were consuming another product.  Thus, we want our leaders, our teachers, to perform for us.  We want to be given our answers, and in doing so we hand over a great deal of responsibility in our lives. 

If you get a sense of where I am going, you are probably right.  I have one more discussion about the idolization that we do within our faith.  And in an odd way, as we celebrate this season of Advent, it seems appropriate to consider how we limit God in our lives.

Saturday 5 December 2015

109 An Idolatry of Self



Our idea of God tells us more about ourselves than about Him. – Thomas Merton

Further to this idolatry of God, there is an idolatry of Self.

Many people I talk to about Christianity, including Christians, have this idea that our faith is a cross between a self-improvement course and a romance movie, (mine would be a romantic comedy).  There is this idea that in becoming Christians we will become the best me I can be.  And of course, it is I, who has the idea of what the best me that I can be looks like.
          There is this idea that there is a perfect you, or me.  For me, this idea of perfect is that my eccentricities, and complications, and peculiarities are somehow healed, and removed; an exorcism of my flaws.  I would be skinnier, and would like shaving, and be able to remember that my kid needs to be picked up some place, that I would not be grumpy, that my humour would not be as crass, I would remember to wear underwear – always, and more importantly remember to zip up my pants.  I would not be impatient, I would not swear at other drivers, and not think that the person ahead of me in line is talking to the cashier is just to piss me off. In short, I would be the clone of Donny Osmond.
          I can only speak of my experience. But my idea of perfection, of being the best me I can be, has more to do with my brokenness than it has to do with being a Christian.  It is taking all that I don’t like about myself, and either asking God to heal me, or doing my best to stop doing those things.   

There is change that occurs as one opens one’s life to God.  There are obvious changes that need to be made.  We know what those are.  For me it was my addiction to drugs and alcohol.  For you it may be something else, equally as glaring or maybe not. But there are those changes that we need to make, not to be good Christians, just to be decent human beings.  But then, once those changes have been made, and for me those took a while, our growth continues.  Our faith deepens, we mature, and the question then becomes now what? 

My response to that question came from two ideas.  The first, what would bring me the greatest relief?  What aspects of myself do I find embarrassing, or frustrating?  There were, and still are, the desires of that part of me which just longs to have life be different.  The second response is similar; stop doing whatever pisses off God. 
          In the last post I talked about a spiritual economy of debt and favour.  My response arises out of the sense of the transactions with God.  If I read scripture daily, pray often, go to church weekly, and perform charitable acts, then I gain favour with God.  I build up treasures in heaven.  Or, these acts can be my attempts to avoid that wrath of God.
          I want to stop and be clear, there is nothing wrong with those acts, in fact they are good things to do.  But I believe that we are called to a deeper significance of those acts.  Consider it the difference between justice that demands and eye for an eye – the fulfilling our debts, and justice that seeks to restore peace.  The acts may look similar, but the outcome is very different.  It is the difference between when I buy my wife an anniversary gift because I am supposed to, and when I buy her that gift because I love her.  It is the difference between loving God and fearing God.

Yes, I have greatly simplified these approaches to faith and how we are with each other, and with God.  I have done this in order to draw them out to discuss them.  The reality is much less straight forward, for even in the most legalistic of faiths, the love of God can be found.  And even in the most liberal of expressions, there are still obligations we are called to fulfill.  The difference, as stated above, is one of emphasis.
          And that difference is significant. When I look at a faith based on appeasing God, or making my life easier, I limit myself. As well, I limit my experience of God. For in my quest to be the best me I can be, it is still me making those decisions, and I have become my own idol – the focus of my faith.