Radical Transparency and the Colapse of Piety

Greetings Readers, it’s been a minute since The Dialect of Praxis had a post. It’s been an exciting time in my life and new adventures have kept me engaged in conversation elsewhere. I hope you all are well!

Radical Transparency is a term I’ve borrowed from David Kinnaman’s well-selling title UnChristian. The phrase is an ideal set by the Buster and Mosaic generations (specifically those ages 16-29) who have grown skeptical and/or cynical about the portrayal of Christianity and the mass-marketed consumerist society surrounding young people today. Radical Transparency is a mindset aimed at deconstructing image-centered hyper-individualism and being “real” with people.

Kinnaman’s book, boasting copious amounts of research and data analysis on Western culture’s negative perception of Christianity and its people, declares, only 1 in 22 Christians (in the 16-29 age bracket) have a deep connection to the Christian faith (UnChristian). This phenomenon is what authors such as Kenda Dean and others have come to call Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.

In the spirit of Radical Transparency, I have to say I’m not alarmed by any of the statistics, negative views, erosion, or declining numbers of the Christian faith. I’m at the tail end of the Buster demographic and have personally experienced the skepticism, cynicism, and need for authenticity in the Christian world. But, the skepticism and cynicism (which I have no doubt worn as a coat of armor) is as concerning as the façade of moralistic perfectionist Christianity.

Pious behavior (personal devotional reading of scripture, doing everything right, praying enough, and the like) doesn’t save us and this is a fair criticism from non-Christians and skeptical believers, towards the typically Conservative portion of the Christian community. However, I’m not looking to tear down Evangelicals today. Instead, I ask, could a delicate balance of piety be a bad thing?

Honestly, I’m not hugely pious (or remotely pious compared to my days as an Evangelical Christian) but I like to study the scriptures. As is evident by the statistics in UnChristian, most people identify the importance of Christianity in lifestyle before anything to do with the Gospel message. And, experience has shown me that many young people in the Church today don’t have a basic understanding of the Gospel (or scripture in general). Maybe non-Christians don’t want to know who Jesus is because most Christians don’t know who Jesus is anymore. Christianity is not a set of lifestyle principals; it is faith in the living God and redemptive work of the cross.   

On Christian Religion, Jesus, and Scripture: Why Religion Matters

“‘Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill” (Mt. 5:17, NRSV).

One cannot preach grace with a machinegun for a microphone.

This past week, twelve million Christians debated over a video that says Jesus>Religion. Jefferson, the Spoken Word creator of the video has a lot to say about Jesus and religion. Is this man preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ or condemning people who call themselves Christians? Yes. In addition to what I’ve said elsewhere, does the Bible back up the claims of the popular video? Yes and no.

Definitions are important. First, who is Jesus? Jesus is the Son of God, fully man and fully God, he lived, he died (by crucifixion on the cross), and he resurrected from the dead. The work of the cross was done for the redemption of all people because all suffer from a chronic affliction called sin.

Second, what is religion? It is, “a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs” (Dictionary.com).

What does Jesus>Religion claim and is it scriptural? Claim one, “Jesus came to abolish religion.” I could not find this in scripture, but here’s what I did find: “If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments” (Mt.19:16-21; Mt. 5:17). Claim two, “Just because you call some people blind, doesn’t automatically give you vision.” True, but that judgment was Jesus’ call (Jn. 9:39-41) and I’d suggest it stay his call. Claim three, “If religion is so great, why does it [insert negative here]?” Religion isn’t the problem; sin is the problem (Ps. 25:6-12).

The claims of Jesus>Religion continue. Claim four, “But, in the Old Testament, God actually calls religious people whores.” This is a bit of a stretch, but the Israelites were called whores because God knew they were inclined to sin and turn from the covenant they had made with the Lord (Deut.31:15-21, ESV). Claim five, “Religion might preach grace, but another thing they practice.”It is true; Christians are guilty of not practicing what they preach. However, grace is from God (Jn. 1:16-18). And, scripture says a lot more on religion and grace (Mt. 5:3-7:27; Acts15:5-11).

Three out of five is pretty good, right? Claim six, “Now I ain’t judging; I’m just saying, quit putting on a fake look because there’s a problem if people only know you’re a Christian by your Facebook.” Unless one is going to take time to disciple “Facebook Christians” this remark is ill-advised (Gal. 6:2-5).

Turning to the opposition of Jesus>Religion; Jesus=Religion. What does the opposition claim? Claim one, “Where do you get off speakin’ up for the man risen from the dead, without botherin’ to quote a single word that he said?” While the point may be valid, it deters from a message of grace and contradicts Jesus’ teaching: “Whoever is not against us is for us” (Mk. 9:38-40).

Since I’m a Lutheran, I share more views with the Jesus=Religion author, but I will compare one point of controversy from each video. “Because, if grace is water, the Church should be an ocean” (Jesus>Religion). “The grace is the water, this baptism now saves you, and the Church is the place where this giving out raises you” (Jesus=Religion). Does scripture support salvation through baptism? Yes and it’s been a heated debate for  easily five-hundred years. We are baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection (Rom. 6:1-7). Thus, baptism brings us into Christ’s resurrection (1Pet. 3:18-22). This is orthodoxy, not heresy, and there are other views if you don’t agree with it.

Finally, Jesus is greater than religion, but religion points believers to the grace of the cross. Both of these rhyming You Tube preachers have solid points and a common problem. As servants of the Lord, Christians are called to humility: “The fear of the Lord is instruction in wisdom, and humility goes before honor” (Pro. 15:33, NRSV). Where the first falsely slanders religion, the other mocks his brother’s folly, and both preach grace with a machinegun.

“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Lk. 23:34, KJV).

Religion and the Internet vs. Systemic Affliction

I abandoned the regular flow of dialect to engage the works of others: Lewis, Dostoyevsky, and DeVries. As a result, I’ve enjoyed the invitation to minister to people in the absence of writing. With my eyes fixed on the cross, this blog seems less essential to my being. But, some thoughts have been stirring that I thought I’d share with you all.

Religion is not the problem, as some might suggest, it is infected by what afflicts the greater systemic issue. Religion is meant to serve as a GPS to the cross (where we find God) and the negative symptoms occur when we abandon our navigational tools. Religion is a stabilizer to our experiential and emotional perceptions; it is a set of beliefs, constructed of theologies and philosophies, which do not waiver when we don’t feel good about God. Sadly, religion tends to get the blame for things it has little or nothing to do with and its definition gets lost.  

The greater affliction I mentioned earlier, infect more than just religion. The internet is a relevant example, a system within systems, which is meant to serve the user. Our systemic affliction takes algorithms meant to customize sites (like Google, Facebook, Netflix, and more) and reveals an ugly symptom of the greater affliction (the symptom being individualism). If “it’s all about me” it’s no wonder we point fingers at systems, like religion and the internet.

Dear friends, life is the system and it is afflicted by a chronic condition, the sin nature. Sin isn’t popular and it may be over emphasized in some denominations, but it is a real affliction. Thankfully, religion tells us that the God of the cross died for us. Christ’s death is the antidote for our chronic affliction and the systemic affliction is given over to the hope of resurrection. This is the work of God, through the gift of grace. And that, my friends, is the definition of religion.  

"Just a Song," Girls, (Father, Son, Holy Ghost; music only)

When Life Defecates, Get Wisdom; Proverbs, Prudence, and Prostrating

Proverbs is not the book for me – I’m a rock-star-rated-R-silver-tongued-servant-of-the-pulpit – and this book takes me to church. Rather, to the cross. One of the challenges of teaching people about the scriptures, is that one tends to be taught – though, not so willingly – along the way. If I’ve learned anything from the deep study and lessons I’ve taught on this book of compiled wisdom sayings (one of few compilations in scripture) it’s that wisdom begins and ends with the fear (meaning reverence) of the Lord.

In order to possess wisdom, one has to have virtue, prudence, reservation, and humility (among other things). Easier said than done, I’m sure. Hence why I said the book of Proverbs takes me to church. But, this isn’t about getting religion, winning metals for moralism, or becoming a better Christian. It’s about gaining practical wisdom. Unfortunately, practical wisdom doesn’t come easy.

However, practical wisdom puts scholars, like me, in our place. Nine times out of ten, the wisest person in the room is the only one not talking or waiting to be heard. Wisdom is the authenticity I promote, but mockery falls through my lips like a thief. Knowledge is the prudence of a good friend; recklessness is its ruin. Reservation is one’s investment; saying all there is to say leads to sorrow. The humble seek wisdom, but the proud are fools. In other words, don’t be a jerk.

One could ask, what do we do when practical wisdom doesn’t follow through, the “bad guys” win, and life goes to excremental proportions? Start over. For, wisdom begins with our reverence (respect, worship, or admiration) for God. In juxtaposition, wisdom is from God.

“The human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps” (Proverbs 16:9, NRSV).

“The lot is cast into the lap, but the decision is the Lord’s alone” (Proverbs 16:33, NRSV).

The Lord’s wisdom can be frustrating at times and we can glean from it other times. On one hand, practical wisdom from the Proverbs can be quite useful in daily life. On the other hand, practical wisdom doesn’t stop life from defecating on us. In turn, it’s God we seek to understand wisdom. By the grace of God, both the wise and the foolish will meet at the foot of the cross with our humble questions.

      

The God Who Wasn't There: a Scholarly Response

The documentary film, The God Who Wasn’t There, by Brian Flemming makes a lot of statements, but not all of them are obvious to the film’s creator. The filmmaker is a former Fundamentalist-Christian, turned Fundamentalist-Atheist. Thus, his interpretive lens is trapped by his past and present bias; unable to see Christianity, its scriptures, its doctrines, or traditions outside of that Fundamentalist viewpoint. Strategically, the documentarian attempts to turn “Moderate Christians” and Fundamentalist Christians against one another, by claiming that Fundamentalists have it right. In the film, Flemming uses historical criticism and literary criticism to bolster his anti-theology. However, his historical criticism is weak, his literary criticism fails miserably, and he completely ignores any cultural analysis.

In a historical timeline, the documentarian refers to the time between the gospel events and the gospel recordings, as the period “everyone forgot.” He goes on to state that this was a forty year time span. As for forgetting, in the words of scholar Rowan Williams, “There is little or no trace in the first Christian decades of a Christianity unmarked by devotion to Jesus as a living agent.” In contrast to the film’s proposed 70 A.D. authorship, of the gospel accounts, and the forty year gap between events and their recordings: the first accounts of Mark could be as early as 65 A.D. (Christopher Tuckett). Additionally, Paul’s letters to the Thessalonians and Galatians were recorded around 50 A.D. (Markus Bockmuehl). Okay, so what, the film’s historical timeline is off by two, possibly three, decades; Flemming still has literary criticism.

In conjunction with the filmmaker’s weak historical criticism, there are at least three major literary criticism failures. The first, claiming that “God isn’t a moderate,” the film quotes Luke 19:27 for support, and ignores that this is the end of a parabolic text. In other words, Jesus was telling a story. The second, inferring that Paul never thought Jesus was, “on Earth,” the documentary uses a quote from a verse in the book of Hebrews. Yet, if “nobody told Paul,” why does he mention Jesus’ interaction with Peter and the twelve (1 Cor. 15:3-7)? Nevertheless, many scholars – conservative and liberal alike – indicate that we don’t know the author of the book of Hebrews.

The third fail, claims that the Gospel according to Mark was not based on history; this automatically implies that the accounts of Matthew, Luke, and John weren’t either – because the documentarian, Brian Flemming, says they all came from Mark’s account. Using the film’s position against itself – because the Synoptic Problem (Matthew and Luke) and the Two-level Drama concept (John) are too great for the scope of this post – if the events of the gospel accounts were not historical, why did non-Christian figures in history, like Josephus, mention that Jesus was put to death by Pilate? Perhaps, The God Who Wasn’t There showed up in the scholarship. Perhaps, The God Who Wasn’t There is gracious enough to redeem a trapped interpretive lens. Perhaps, The God Who Wasn’t There is no reduced God, to this “Moderate Christian.” The God who is there, died for you.


 For more thoughts on this film visit:The Logic of the Cross.

 

The God of Experience

I believe that God is found at the cross and I believe that the work of the cross affects us all. I find experience both troubling and problematic, when it defines theology. Currently, I’m reading a book called, It’s Really All About God: Reflections of a Muslim-Atheist-Jewish-Christian – it’s an experiential conversation illuminating interfaith dialogue. More accurately, how do we understand the other? Personally, experience has shown me that a faith defined by experience can be dangerous and destructive (irony intended).

 

From drug addicts on Welfare Reform, to Fundamentalist Christians, I see the revelation of a divine God in the brokenness of humanity. From the quasi-Zen, to the atheist, I see the revelation of a redeeming God in doubt and disbelief. From the homophobe, to the G. L. B. T. Q., I see the revelation of a patient and gracious

God – in our hatred, fear, misunderstanding, guilt, condemnation, and self-loathing. From a premature birth, to disability, to nine surgeries, to grieving death, to shattering expectations, to accepting limitations, to suffering injuries, to questioning everything, to loving, to being heartbroken, to ministering, to broken sexual purity, to intellectualism, to resignation, to going bankrupt, to a flicker of hope – I see the revelation of an active resurrection, of unmerited gifts, of present and future promises, and of the mysteries of God. Experience contributes to the definition of belief, but it is not the definition of belief – or the definition of God.

Ask questions, challenge religious precepts, allow your worldview to expand and grow, but don’t let experience lead you to relativism. All gods are not created equal, all truths do not tell the truth, all minds are not open, all worldviews do not see, all experiences do not hold experience, and all conversations are not a dialogue. Listen, learn, show respect, exude compassion, but for the love God – reconstruct what you deconstruct – and stand for something. 

A hilarious and clever pitch for the book mentioned above:

The Substance of Promise

I will never keep a promise I make to God. In contrast, God will never break the promise that has been made to us. First, why the sharp contrast of promissory ideas? There is a difference in the substance of a promise I make to God and the reverse of that promise. My purpose is not to argue that God always keeps a promise; instead, I contend that there is a reason I can never keep a promise I make to God.

Second, if there is such a difference in the idea of a promise, what, then, is a promise? In some cases, it is a covenant, a contract, an agreement between God and the people of God (1 Kings 2, 8; Hag. 2). In other cases, it is a gift (Acts 2). It is also a declaration of a fulfilled covenant (Acts 26). A promise can even mean the response to faith, over and above the law (Rom. 4; Gal. 3, 4). Yet, another form of promise, is hope (1 Tim 4). Promise even comes in patience and waiting (2 Peter 3). In all of these cases, it appears that God is the one maintaining the promissory agreement; nevertheless, all of these occurrences of the idea of promise are unique in form and function.

In turn, what sort of promises can I make to a God who holds and maintains such diverse promises? Truthfully, this is why I look to the ultimate promise of God, the cross event – death and resurrection – which fulfills justification. For, I am not capable of such diverse, numerous, or magnificent promises; conversely, I am capable of promising God that I’ll be more pious or whatever have you for the sake of personal gain. Obviously, I am not alone in the art of breaking promises to God, but grace has freed me from the shame of failure.

As a result of God’s promise through resurrection, the law has been fulfilled and my pious promises are outdated gestures. Thus, I no longer make promises to God because God’s promises to me – moreover, us – are undoubtedly more effective. “Lord, thank you for keeping, holding, and governing the promises that matter; so that we do not have to watch ourselves wallow in the grief of failure. For, you are the source of greater promise – by way of death and resurrection.” We are justified through the promises of God and forgiven for our trespasses. Thanks be to God.

Subordinate to Inconsideration

There is a difference between pity and understanding. One is inconsiderate and doesn't last; the other, is truly defined by redemption, tolerance, compassion, and respect. I feel like people can be truly inconsiderate of my feelings, needs, and emotions. Now, I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t mention that I’ve been guilty of this myself. In any case, here are my issues and concerns:

First, I have Cerebral Palsy and am currently rehabilitating a, slow-healing, hamstring injury. Please, don’t assume that I can keep physical pace with you. Frankly, I never could before the injury; however, this lack of consideration in light of the injury makes me feel belittled, disrespected, and inferior. This frustrates me. Nonetheless, I would hope that the average person can respect that there are some things I simply cannot or should not do and it is not because I’m lazy. Honestly, I hate even talking about my limitations because I’ll push myself harder to keep pace with other people. I’m sensitive about saying the words, “I can’t do that” or “I shouldn’t do that.” If someone tells me to, “suck it up,” the problem is, I will, and I won’t tell them that I don’t appreciate their lack of consideration

Second, I haven’t found a job yet and have, more or less, tapped out my bank account. I tell people this every day and I do not enjoy it. In truth, I loathe it because I feel like a leach and a broken record. I don’t want to put anyone in the position of feeling obligated to pay for me. I don’t have a job and went bankrupt; unfortunately, school loans are not easily covered under bankruptcy. I hope one can be considerate of the fact that the imposition of my situation on others causes me great pain.

Third, I joke about being an “asshole” or a “bitch” because it helps me deal with the hurt and because, sometimes, I actually believe those things must be true if people say them about me. Honestly, I’d rather not feel like I’m perceived to be an “asshole” (though I do accept that I can be and have been known to be arrogant). In relation, the term “bitch” has a similar effect to “asshole,” but it’s more because I feel like one – subordinate to the will of others – because I can’t bring myself to say, “No.” Frankly, I only have one friend who has ever truly acknowledged these realities, without me saying something, and I love him for it.

Forth, I have become more passive-aggressive than I ever have been because so many people told me that I didn’t treat people with diplomacy. In response, I drastically reduced my use of colorful language in my writings, I accepted responsibility for being unemployed, I swallowed my hurt and frustration when I felt offended, and I even censored one of my songs. In turn, I resemble someone who is passive-aggressive and cannot communicate their feelings. I keep more silent than one might think, out of diplomacy, tact, professionalism, and a desire to pay my bills again someday. “The Man” wins, I will play “the game,” but I ask people to consider the cost – I engage in the idea of diplomacy willingly, not because I like it, but because my will has been broken – in caging all that is “negative” about my personality, there have been many positive casualties.

Fifth, my lovely “liberal” friends, tolerance and diversity is a great pursuit, but one must be considerate enough to their more “conservative” opponents to achieve this goal (yes, I know I am guilty of failing to do this). On the flip side, my “conservative” brothers and sisters, if I disagree with you on ethics that does not make me immoral – nor does it mean I have low standards. It is one thing to champion for the acceptance and equality of the LGBTQ communities and individuals in the courts and the Church; it is another to single any group out, as if to say, the courts and the Church only alienate this one group of people. It is one thing to say or imply that homosexuality is a sin – a question I find irrelevant for a number of reasons – it is another to be a part of the Church and deny compassion, love, and grace to anyone for any reason. In a balanced, moderate, clarification, I love the LGBTQ individuals I have met, so does Jesus, they can and do produce amazing work in the name of God, and I’m not concerned with whether or not it’s a sin.

In juxtaposition, I want to extend all people groups the same love, respect, compassion, and grace because everyone needs these things. I will not place a greater emphasis on loving any one group (“liberal,” “conservative,” GLBTQ, Evangelical, agnostic, atheist, or otherwise). Love the sinner, love the saint, and leave the redemption of sin – and/or the perception of sin – to the Lord. Why do we hate when the Gospel of Jesus Christ is a proclamation of love? In the words of Lady Gaga, “I want to love you, but something’s pulling me away from you; Jesus is my virtue, Judas is the demon I cling to.” This, my friends, is the result of Original Sin, which alienates us all more than any one sin or sins.

Finally, I share these things not seeking pity, not seeking rebellion, not seeking a fight, not indulging in immorality (or the perception thereof) Ultimately, I share with you so you may understand that I feel subordinate to inconsideration.

Challenging my Own Ideas and Adopted Views

Currently, I am reading The Science of God by Alister E. McGrath (which I will, likely, post on when I am finished with the book). At the moment, I want to focus on a quote from the book that has prompted some theological self-reflection. “If people are convinced of the rightness of their own position, there is inevitably a temptation to control or destroy those who disagree with them.” Herein, I will challenge some of my own ideas and adopted views.

Before I get started, it is important to note that I take up the practices, positions, ideas, and work of many who have come before me to develop the ongoing discourse of my beliefs. “I stand upon the shoulders of giants” (Isaac Newton). I have taken on the label Post-Evangelical Lutheran. Deconstructing that label, its implications, its meaning, and its purpose, do I claim to be a Post-Evangelical because I have completely moved on to another way of thinking or because I take issue with the Evangelical movement and culture, for the impact it has had upon my life? Yes.

Furthermore, do I take up the Post-Evangelical label because I think I’m better than or, somehow, smarter than Evangelicals? Honestly, yes. I held those views, at one point, and was driven to atheism. In my arrogance, I have said some harsh things about Evangelicalism and its followers. Admitting the things above warrants the label, "conceited." Ironically, hearing such personal character descriptions incited arrogant behavior (not to justify the attitude).

In retrospect, I’ve been so adamant I was right to abandon Evangelical beliefs that I ignored grace. How far have I taken my frustration with Evangelical Christianity? Further than necessary. Last I checked, hatred, control, and destruction are not the goals of a Christ-like worldview. Therefore, I apologize, but maintain the integrity of my current theological perspectives. Arguably, I’ve gotten my comeuppance for my anti-Evangelical propaganda. I know it’s not very “Christ-like” for me to spew words of hate upon anyone for any reason.

In conjunction, I turn to the Lutheran piece. After twenty-four years of being an Evangelical (a title I never acknowledged) why did I turn to Lutheranism? Becoming a Lutheran was a slow process. In the words of a former pastor (a dear friend, who happens to be Evangelical) I was, “a Nonconformist-Christian.” I didn’t like labels. Nevertheless, the concept of divine grace was the biggest challenge and, simultaneously, the biggest draw to Lutheran theology. I was in a place of asking questions, I wasn’t ready to rest on any one idea. Until, I learned about the Theology of the Cross, which is radically different from my Evangelical roots.

After twelve years with the Salvation Army, where I vehemently refused to take on a label, I adopted the Theology of the Cross and Lutheran traditions. Salvationist and a Lutheran views are theological polar-opposites. Regardless, I respect, applaud, and model the community service practices – the Salvation Army has the best outreach-mission I have ever seen in the Christian Church. However, the Theology of Glory is what drove me to deny the existence of God (at one point). This realization, prompted me to denounce Evangelicalism. Truly, I found freedom in the Lutheran depictions of God’s grace. Once I accepted that things would never be the same for me, I decided to explore the Theology of the Cross and teachings of the Lutheran Church. My transition to Lutheranism was an about-face, a declaration of newly adopted theology, and I had an outsiders understanding of Lutheranism and the Theology of the Cross. Ergo, I felt I could not ignore my Evangelical roots, but have no plans to return to them. Thus, I coined the personal label of Post-Evangelical Lutheran.

In the aftermath, do I think that everyone ought to be a Lutheran? No, the Church has different denominations to maintain balance and challenge one another. The Theology of the Cross, within Lutheranism, is the only view that makes sense to me. Today, I sit here pretty humble. I’m not better than anyone or their beliefs. I recognize that Lutherans, Evangelicals, Baptists, Charismatic Protestants, Catholics, and many others are a part of one Church – the body of Christ. We may not agree, we may not understand one another, and we may fall prey to the notion of rightness, but we are one Church and one body.

Finally, criticizing my own opinions and adopted views doesn’t negate that I have hurt many people with my words or been hurt by the words of others. Only by the grace of Christ will there be absolution and forgiveness. I am at peace with calling myself a Post-Evangelical Lutheran and hope that I can peacefully disagree with those who hold to different views. Totalitarianism isn’t the answer, destroying the opposition isn’t the answer, Unitarianism isn’t the answer. The answer I long for is a conversation of grace in Jesus Christ.