Tag: Christ

American Christians Don’t Know How to Suffer for Christ

~ K ~ 5 Comments

On Twitter, there’s a semi-joke in which someone will mention a problem (usually trivial) in his or her life followed by the hashtag, #firstworldproblems, meaning that the problem is most likely to occur in a Westernized country, ie, “Ran out of coffee grounds; Gonna be a rough morning. #firstworldproblems.” I’d like to propose the idea, however, that Westernized Christians, typically Americans (as I am one), deal with #firstworldXtianproblems.

During the past few months, I’ve been mulling over the idea that American Christians do not face the same problems as early Christians, Christians in other parts of the world, or even American Christians of yesteryear. The challenges American Christians—who I’ll refer to as ACs from now on—face are unique to this era and country. In fact, the problem for ACs is that… there’s no problem at all. We are much too comfortable.

As I sit comfortably in my bed in the cushy suburbs of Philadelphia, I think of people suffering in growing Christian churches in places like China or Iran. The suffering they experience so much more real than wondering whether I should go to church today because I’m so tired. By admitting Christ and him resurrected, they put their lives on the line for their beliefs. (And their belief in Christ is so real that many of them are martyred for their faith.) I highly believe that 90% of ACs would crack under that pressure if put into the same situation. How real is our suffering? How real is our faith?

When Jesus calls his followers to suffer for him, to give up their lives for him, to follow him, American Christians often think back to the Christians of the early church who were martyred, became fugitives, or met together secretly. ACs (except foreign missionaries) know nothing about fearing for their lives because of their faith, needing to hide their faith from their neighbor or government due to physical repercussions, or meeting in secret because of widespread federal and/or societal persecution. Here are some of the problems ACs typically face:

  • I don’t like this pastor. I think I’ll find a new church.
  • No one talks to me here. I could go in and out of church on a Sunday unnoticed.
  • This church is too big; I want to find one smaller.
  • There’s not enough activities for my children here.
  • It’s a dying congregation! Everyone’s old.
  • No women pastors for me. I’ll find something else.
  • I don’t like praise and worship bands. This place is too contemporary.
  • I don’t like that boring piano and organ. Those hymns make me sleepy. I need to find something upbeat!
  • Ew! They use the NIV [or Bible translation said person doesn’t like] here!

Granted, there are some legitimate concerns ACs may have with churches, ie, if a church isn’t using a Bible as its main source text for the service and sermon, it’s not a real (or good) Christian church. But most of the issues ACs have are trivial.

So what does it mean to forsake all and follow Jesus as ACs? Does it mean not investing in 401(k)s (for future security) in order to donate to a charitable organization that will help others in the here and now? Does it mean giving up the dream of owning a home in order to adopt a child and transform that kid’s life?

As ACs, we face many trivial problems that in the grand scheme of things, aren’t really a big deal. What we consider to be suffering, in many ways, is really just our way of complaining that we’re no longer comfortable. (First-world response: “The heater broke in our church! I’m not going to go to church to freeze my ass off.” A better response: “The heater’s broken at church so we need to bundle up a bit more to ensure that we can stay warm during the service.”)

Any ideas on what true suffering for American Christians looks like? Or do ACs not know what suffering for the sake of Christ really is?

Day 4 in the Life of a Christian Atheist

~ K ~ 3 Comments

I grew no closer to atheism today. Perhaps my life is fully entrenched in Christianity. Tomorrow certainly won’t be any better as I start off my morning by meeting with my church pastor.

  • Talked to a Christian friend who I haven’t spoken to in AGES, which really blessed me and lifted my spirits for a bit
  • Spoke to a good friend from church who I consider my sister-in-Christ/accountability buddy and she always—and I mean ALWAYS—sets me straight when I’m feeling lousy and sorry for myself
  • Still listened to that Solo Piano Pandora station that plays hymns
  • Received encouragement from an online friend through comments and email
  • Promised to pray for continued success for a friend NEXT WEEK (somehow this strikes me as funny—delayed prayer)
  • Said “Praise the Lord” again when a slowpoke driver finally got off the one-lane road

I could go on and on about the things I didn’t do but since I’m supposed to be an “atheist” this week; it doesn’t matter, right? For this week, no, it doesn’t.

If only I could cut myself this much slack as a Christian. While a Christian should care about the things he or she does for God each day, something’s wrong if that Christian obsesses about it. (Something I tend to do.) More of Mary and less of Martha.

Maybe I should be a Christian atheist for a little bit longer… but I can’t resist thanking God for a somewhat enjoyable birthday.

Day 31 of Enjoying God: Communion

~ K ~ 1 Comment
Image from canbelievable.com

I’m not talking about Holy Eucharist or Lord’s Supper communion. I’m talking about all that sweet fellowship pious Christians like to go on and on about. When was the last time you had communion with the Lord?

Merriam-Webster defines “communion” as “an act or instance of sharing.” Communion is also defined as “intimate fellowship or rapport.” (M-W suggests also looking up communication.) I can’t remember any recent time when I’ve been consistent in my communion with God other than, oh, 10 years ago?

I’m currently in the process of revising my novel to make my main character more complex. She is challenged to have communion with God by another character, but she is in a place of deep hurt, anger, and resentment against God. She rails on the Lord:

I’m feeling angry. I’m feeling hurt, and I’m feeling abandoned. God is love, God is just, blah, blah, blah. God doesn’t give a shit about me or my family. … He hated José, he hates me, and he hates my family. If He really cared, José would’ve lived. If God really cared about me or what I think, He would’ve answered the countless prayers I have made in the past three years. God doesn’t listen. God doesn’t care.

My character doesn’t realize it, but that still counts as communion with God. She is not only telling other people in the room how she feels, but she’s expressing her angst and frustration to God.

In writing my novel, I am reminded that communion with God doesn’t need to come from a light, fluffy place. God doesn’t need a fake “oh, thou dear heavenly Father that created the sun, moon, and stars to shine”; God wants to hear where I genuinely am right now. And if I’m angry, hurt, upset, or frustrated with Him or at life in general, that’s what I should share with Him.

Communion with God can be very sweet fellowship with words of praise or gratitude. But communion with God can be a time of pouring out your heart to Him in a way that you would never express to anyone else. This is true intimate fellowship.

Day 30 of Enjoying God: Comforter

~ K ~ Leave a comment
Image taken from http://www.educol.net

I had a hard time trying to enjoy God today. I spent most of the day depressed, teary, and angry at God.

But I do love snow. I know, I know the Northeast has really been hammered this year but the awe and wonder of snow never fails to delight me. I feel like a 5-year-old every time I see a snowflake. And when I heard thundersnow, I thought to myself, Well, if that don’t beat all…

My husband worked from home today as I ran back and forth on the emotional treadmill of my hormones. He played a wonderful role as comforter in the best way he could. Although my issues make me feel isolated and alone, my husband was a reminder that he was there to comfort and console me through the grief I experience in life.

I know God does that. I know God can do that. I just wasn’t able to enjoy Him that way today.

So I’ll take snow today.

Day 29 of Enjoying God: Creativity

~ K ~ 2 Comments

I never thought about creativity as a way to enjoy God but why not? Since I believe that God is the creator of all things, I also believe He’s the ultimate source of all things creative.

For example, God has shown Himself to be a spectacular artist in nature who constantly receives rave reviews and an eloquent writer (by inspiration of the Holy Spirit) through men.

So why would it be odd for me to enjoy one of the gifts that God gave me with the written word?

Today I had a rare burst of creativity. I got to to work on revising my manuscript, totally revamping the voice and attitude of my main character. I’m happier with Chapter 1 than I’ve ever been since I first wrote the novel in November 2007. And I owe it all to God. I recognize that the same God who painted beautiful sunrises and sunsets with various shades of color can also impart to me the ability to craft beautiful scenes with varying degrees of intensity. I’m thankful for the days when creativity flows from my brain to my fingers and onto the computer screen without intensive thought. (Writer’s block is a bear and something I hope not to experience anytime soon.)

—

Of course, I always discover these things about God just before midnight—the deadline for my daily posts. Maybe one day I’ll learn something about God (and post it) before 7 in the evening.

Day 25 of Enjoying God: Daily God

~ K ~ 1 Comment
Image from mundiwestport.fashion41.com

Today, I had to write everywhere in the apartment the following: ONE THING AT A TIME. (Yes, in all caps to get my point across to myself.)

I felt overwhelmed by the disarray of my surroundings and all the tasks before me. Visually and mentally, I saw clutter, disorganization, and messiness.

But God, who the Bible calls the Ancient of Days (Daniel 7:9, 13, 22) and is the supreme organizer and task manager, takes things one day at time. (But, if you’re of the day-age theory, 1,000 years can be as a day to the Lord. [II Peter 3:8])

It is why Jesus prays in the Lord’s Prayer (or the “Our Father”) “give us this day our daily bread” (Matt. 6:11).  It is also why Jesus admonishes us not to worry about tomorrow because today has enough trouble of its own (Matt. 6:34).

Whether a Christian subscribes to a 7-day (as humans know it) creation theory or the day-age creation theory, the general idea is that God approached one task or one project at a time:

  • Day 1 (or 1,000 years): God created morning and evening.
  • Day 2 (or 2,000 years): God separated heaven and earth (which had already been created from the beginning).
  • Day 3 (or 3,000 years): God separated land from water and created vegetation.
  • Day 4 (or 4,000 years): God created the sun to shine on the earth by day and the moon to illuminate the earth by night, further adding distinction between morning and evening.
  • Day 5 (or 5,000 years): God created creatures for air and sea.
  • Day 6 (or 6,000 years): God created land species: all animals for land and the first humans.
  • Day 7 (or 7,000 years): God rested, instituted the Sabbath to be holy, and performed no work or tasks.

As the days went on, God got more and more complex with his tasks (going from creating one general thing to two general categories with many subcategories, er, subspecies if you will). But the thing is, God took life one day at a time and to enjoy Him fully, I need to follow that example. I need to stop Americanizing my life by multitasking and overloading myself with 500 things I can’t possibly accomplish one day and approach tasks the God-centered way: one thing at a time, one day at a time.

Lord or Savior?

~ K ~ 2 Comments

Thinking of a tweet a friend sent me a couple of days ago when I asked what was the difference between Jesus being Lord and Savior:

Savior & Lord have 2 diff meanings. I think the argument is that if you only want Jesus as Savior, but not Lord, then is he really your Savior? Is Jesus your fire insurance or is he really the Lord over your life BECAUSE he saved you from the pit?

If I’m really honest, Jesus is fire insurance. When someone is Lord over one’s life, they can also lord over it. I don’t believe Jesus is intrusive like that but somehow I need to be able to let Jesus rule over ever centimeter of my life if he wanted to. Every dark corner that hides, every bright light that shines: finances, relationships, career… give everything over to him.

Having only fire insurance sounds much better.

The Armor of Pretentious Spirituality & the Shield of Piousness

~ K ~ 3 Comments

A friend said this to me on Twitter today:

I do think people are dishonest in general about their ‘spirituality.’

I have to agree with him. And I can’t help wonder why that is.

This statement forced me to look at my own spirituality. I like to think that I’m rather “real” when it comes to my Christian life. Too often I’m frustrated by people who try to act like they have it all together just because they have Jesus in their lives and I’m always comparing myself mercilessly to people who seem particularly pious and pray and read their Bibles all the time.

On the contrary, I also look at the people who practice yoga religiously or listen to the teachings of Eckhart Tolle and wonder if they’ve discovered some inner peace that I still find myself seeking.

So I’ve come to the conclusion that we all put on a front to some extent. There are days (perhaps sometimes weeks!) when I’ve got this spiritual connection going, some amazing mountaintop relationship with God and I really am a prayer warrior and in touch with a power greater than myself.

Then there are days (and weeks!) that go by when I don’t pray, get angry with God, feel lost as though I’m stumbling through life just trying to life in the physical, and going through the motion of attending church because it’s what I do and not necessarily because I want to. (Is that right to do? No.)

So it’s time for me to strip off the armor of pretentious spirituality and put down the shield of piousness:

  • I do not go to church every Sunday. Catholic guilt plagues me afterward but it’s true. I like my sleep more than I like fellowshipping or worshipping with the saints.
  • I do not formally pray every day. If I pray at all, it might be a quick “Lord, please make this migraine go away” but I don’t get down on my knees every night regularly and pray for my family, your family, everyone’s needs, and world peace. I sometimes formally pray but more often than not, I don’t. And more often than not, I forget. And even more often than that, I just don’t want to.
  • I take the Lord’s name in vain occasionally. (Sorry for the following, God.) I’ve caught myself saying a “Lord have mercy” or “Oh my, God” when it’s not necessary or directed to God. It doesn’t happen often and I try to get around it by saying “Heaven, have mercy” but that just sounds silly afterward.
  • I do not like to fellowship with other believers on most days. Some Christians love nothing more than good Christian fellowship all the time. Great for them. I prefer to be alone or around unbelievers. For some reason, I feel the need to pretend like everything’s fine around other Christians. Going to Bible study this summer was heart-wrenching for me as I spent month after month discovering I was not pregnant and not feeling like I could really share that with a group of women who were pregnant or already had kids (for the most part). I always left Bible study feeling worse off than when I arrived so I stopped going or helped with childcare.
  • Reading tons of theological books does not make me a theological maven. I’m reading three books on theology, God’s love, and the Bible and I feel more filled with head knowledge and no closer to any heart knowledge. I wonder if a return to the basics of Jesus Christ and the removal of deep reformed theology from my brain would help but I don’t know how to go back.
  • I wonder if non-Christians have it better than I do. Hate on Deepak Chopra all you want but the man doesn’t complain about unhappiness. And Oprah seems to be doing all right…
  • I question my own beliefs:
    • Jesus ascended into heaven bodily? Um, wouldn’t he explode once he reached a certain altitude?
    • Jesus is returning and after that, no more sin and world peace? When? Will it ever happen? Is that just a fairy tale?
    • It’s wrong to romantically love someone who is of the same gender?
    • God created Ryan Seacrest? (Just kidding.)
  • I question God’s purpose for me. Constantly. Why am I here? I mean, me specifically. You have a different purpose than I do. What am I supposed to accomplish before I die? Is the afterlife really peaceful?
  • And the most basic question of all: Am I a person who really, truly loves Jesus and would sacrifice ALL to follow him?

The answer to that last question is no. And if you’re reading this, you’re probably answering similarly if you’re honest with yourself. By the way, if you still think you’d sacrifice all to follow Jesus then let me challenge you do to this right now:

Sell your house,
Sell your SUV,
Sell your stock,
Sell your security,
And give it to the poor.¹

Won’t do/haven’t done that? Yeah, your answer’s the same as mine.

Perhaps the way back to genuinely following Christ is to strip off the facades we wear. Maybe if I showed up at church and asked someone how he was doing and he responded honestly, “A tough week but I’m hanging in there” rather than the standard “Just fine,” perhaps we’d exhibit a bit more Christ-likeness.

I love Mark Driscoll’s ministry and I think he’s done a lot to reach others for Christ in the 21st century, but the machismo thing bothers me. Sorry, I can’t quite picture Jesus going to Monday Night RAW or cheering on guys beating each other senseless in the UFC. On the contrary (which is probably Driscoll’s real point), I don’t think Jesus would’ve been a pansy flower child flashing the peace sign and getting high in the middle of a muddy field.

Jesus is the sovereign Lord of the universe. During his time on earth, he exhibited emotion and didn’t pretend to be something he was not. When Lazarus died, the Lamb of God felt the real sting of death and wept for his friend (before resurrecting him!). When money changers were desecrating the temple of God, Jesus displayed righteous anger in preserving a sanctuary that was supposed to be kept holy. And right before Jesus faced the cruelest death anyone could face, fear flowed through his body as he pleaded three times with his heavenly Father to take the task at hand away from him (before submitting himself to God’s will).

Wow. Sadness, anger, and fear. All from the one whom Christians call their Savior. Jesus didn’t pretend to be okay. Jesus wasn’t all macho like, “Yo, dudes, I got this. No sweat.” Not even with the apostles, his closest friends, who he asked to stay up with him before Judas betrayed him. Jesus was real.

And if Jesus was real, why do believers in him keep acting so damn fake?

¹Quoted from Derek Webb’s “Rich Young Ruler”

Anne Rice and association with Christianity

~ K ~ 8 Comments

On July 28, famed author Anne Rice posted the following on her Facebook page:

For those who care, and I understand if you don’t: Today I quit being a Christian. I’m out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being “Christian” or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to “belong” to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else. [source]

As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen. [source]

After quoting a number of verses from Matthew, I Corinthians, and John, she concludes her rejection of Christianity with this:

My faith in Christ is central to my life. My conversion from a pessimistic atheist lost in a world I didn’t understand, to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me. But following Christ does not mean following His followers. Christ is infinitely more important than Christianity and always will be, no matter what Christianity is, has been, or might become. [source]

I’m not a fan of Rice mainly because I’ve never read her books but I’ve followed her developments and statements with minimal interest since she shifted from atheism to Catholicism. Such extreme pendulum swings in faith never fail to intrigue me. With Rice’s most recent statement, I’m forced to evaluate what it is about Christianity that’s so abhorrent that she’s chosen to renounce Christ?

Before her public repudiation, it’s clear that she was struggling with many unfortunate issues Christianity is associated with. A few Facebook posts from last Tuesday:

Gandhi famously said: “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” When does a word (Christian)become unusable? When does it become so burdened with history and horror that it cannot be evoked without destructive controversy? [source]

Since some of you mentioned the Westboro Baptist Church in comments below, I thought I’d publish this recent news story about them. This is chilling. I wish I could say this is inexplicable. But it’s not. That’s the horror. Given the history of Christianity, this is not inexplicable at all. —Link to “How Young Is Too Young to Learn Hate?” an article about Westboro Baptist Church [source]

This shocking link was provided by a poster below. No wonder people despise us, Christians, and think we are an ignorant and violent lot. I don’t blame them. This kind of thing makes me weep. Maybe commitment to Christ means not being a Christian. —Link to “GOP-linked punk rock ministry says executing gays is ‘moral’” an article about an anti-gay Christian nonprofit [source]

These things associated with Christianity in America are unfortunate not to mention the personal travails Ms. Rice has encountered (losing a daughter to leukemia, losing her husband of 41 years, and watching her other son — a gay rights activist — endure hate-filled rants and threats in the name of Christ). I’ve never experienced any of the things she’s experienced but it makes me understand why she would choose to “quit being a Christian… in the name of Christ.”

I’ve read a lot of posts by Christians questioning whether a person can tell Christ that she loves him but doesn’t want to be part of his Bride (that is, the universal body of Christ—commonly known as the Church). The common conclusion is that no, you can’t love Christ and not be part of his Bride.

But let’s look at this example: let’s say my husband had a close friend and this close friend of his saw me spewing bigoted remarks at other people and talking about killing people who I didn’t believe lived up to my husband’s ideal of how people ought to be. I think my husband’s friend would have every right to say, “Man, I like hanging out with you but I can’t be around when your wife is around. She acts so terrible, it reflects badly on who I am.”

Christians think that the Bride is above criticism because Christ instituted the Church. Jesus loves the Church, yes, but he sees our warts and flaws and knows it is comprised of sinners. And because Christians can be so pompous about what the Bible teaches (right or not), we sometimes drive those within our body away.

Do I agree with Rice’s decision? No, I don’t, but I respect it. I’ve read some other people argue that she should have stayed in the Church (in her instance, the Roman Catholic Church) and tried to effect change from within.

Another personal example, if you’ll allow me: After Obama’s historical election to the presidency in 2008, I chose to leave the Democratic Party. I am a staunchly pro-life (that is, anti-abortion, anti-death penalty) citizen and discovered that the Democratic Party’s stance on abortion had become so relaxed (with President Obama having the most relaxed abortion policies I’ve ever heard of) that there was no way staying in the party would allow me to effect change from within. Even though I am mostly a Democrat in other respects, to continue to be a part of an institution that I had such a fundamental disagreement with would have caused me more harm than good.

However, I’m still a Christian because I believe Jesus has called me to be a part of his Church no matter how many gripes I have with my fellow believers. I believe in the cause of Christ more than I believe in his followers. And I believe that Christ’s message of love and repentance is not just for a certain group of sinners but for all people. Jesus came not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance. He came for those who are sick, not those who are well.

Like I said, I don’t agree with Ms. Rice’s decision but I respect it. They are too many Christians who think that they’re righteous and well just because they claim the name of Christ. Ms. Rice will only return to the Church once she sees more Christians admitting that they’re sickly sinners.

Former IFB still in recovery…

~ K ~ 10 Comments

I don’t talk much about my short stint in Independent Fundamental Baptist (IFB) Land but the scars are still there. So much that I feel compelled to write a book (fiction) about it. I don’t know if there’s a Christian publisher out there crazy enough to publish it but I see it as a story that needs to be told. (I like to think Matthew Paul Turner‘s publisher might be a good place to start…)

For the first 16 years of my life, I grew up Roman Catholic. I went to Catholic schools throughout my entire primary and secondary education. I was baptized into the Catholic Church, received communion, and was even confirmed. (My confirmation name was Kateri Tekawitha.)

My uncle and aunt on my dad’s side began attending a church on the border of Queens and Nassau County, Long Island and soon my father began to go to church with them. I later joined my father and was immediately introduced to born-again Christianity. The first time I heard of hellfire and brimstone was the very day that I raised my hand and went forward during the altar call hoping I could avoid eternal damnation. I don’t think I became a “believer” that very day but it was a turning point for me in my Christian spirituality.

As a Catholic, I found that the one thing keeping me from committing suicide was the teaching that if I killed myself, I’d be plunged into an eternal hell. As a born-again Christian, I found the one thing that kept me alive was the teaching that Jesus loved me so much and died in my place to keep me out of hell. Perhaps this is why I gladly left the Roman Catholic Church for a Protestant one. (Although IFB preachers shun the term “Protestant.”)

The main character and protagonist of my novel, Ms. Montez, is based off of me. I’m careful not to make her exactly like me but the similarities are evident and many of the events affecting her and surrounding her are based on my personal experiences.

Ms. Montez is a 16-year-old Hispanic female who suffers from depression and frequently sees suicide as a viable option after struggling with being teased at school, the abandonment of her older brother, and the absence of real-life friends. But just like most people who attempt suicide, Ms. Montez does not want to necessarily die—she wants to be freed from the pain of depression; Ms. Montez is on a quest for inner peace.

When Ms. Montez visits an IFB church that her aunt goes to, she expresses an interest in knowing more about Jesus. She is drawn in and “sold” on born-again Christianity when it sounds as though she is promised freedom from depression, loneliness, and suicide through the cross of Jesus Christ.

There is more to the story but the book goes on to address issues that are common not just in IFB churches but in many Christian churches today: mental health, hypocrisy, greed, gossip, adultery, and legalism. If taken the wrong way, I firmly believe the book could be read as a condemnation on Christian churches, but it is not meant to be so. The book is about a young girl’s struggle to find and maintain a relationship with God in the midst of this messy, broken-down world of sin—the church not excluded. Continue reading “Former IFB still in recovery…” →

Here, There, and Everywhere

~ K ~ 5 Comments

“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here.”

I have a bunch of things I feel like writing about but they’re not topically related so here’s my mishmashed post.

Music.

I am enjoying listening to Danger Mouse’s new group, The Broken Bells. Hat tip to Derek Webb on that one.

Theology.

Up on The Resurgence blog this week:

Question 74 – Should infants, too, be baptized?
Answer – Yes. Infants as well as adults belong to God’s covenant and congregation. (Gen. 17:7; Matt. 19:14) Through Christ’s blood the redemption from sin and the Holy Spirit, who works faith, are promised to them no less than to adults. (Ps. 22:11; Is. 44:1-3; Acts 2:38, 39; 16:31) Therefore, by baptism, as sign of the covenant, they must be grafted into the Christian church and distinguished from the children of unbelievers. (Acts 10:47; I Cor. 7:14) This was done in the old covenant by circumcision (Gen. 17:9-14), in place of which baptism was instituted in the new covenant. (Col. 2: 11-13)

I seriously struggle with the idea of infant baptism also known as paedobaptism. I am a member of the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) and appreciate that I do not need to agree with the concept of paedobaptism to be a member of the covenant community. I’m not even fully convinced that I hold to covenant theology but that’s too broad of a matter to tackle within the subject of paedobaptism.

The best case I’ve seen for infant baptism has been presented by Greg Bahnsen here. But again, it’s not that I’m not open to viewing infant baptism as scriptural or that I am adamantly opposed to it per se but I find that there is a clearer Biblical case for believer’s (or as some have called it, “professor’s”) baptism.

Perhaps, however, if I fully subscribed to covenant theology and saw baptism as a replacement for circumcision, then infant baptism would make logical sense. As a Christian who previously subscribed to dispensational theology, the jump to covenant theology is not easy. (Here’s a chart for a comparison between the two. However, I did stumble upon this, and from a quick glance, it would seem like I agree more with New Covenant Theology.)

Scripture.

Relevant Magazine had an article on the most misused verse in the Bible:

Jeremiah 29:11 that says, “‘For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”

I thought the article had great insight, especially given that as humans, we have a tendency to look at God as a vending machine: pop our prayer request in the coin slot and wait for our requested result. The author expounds on the context surrounding this oft-quoted verse which shows this verse is not telling readers that God will give us whatever we desire.

Stay-at-home dads.

Matthew Paul Turner at JesusNeedsNewPR tweeted a link to Nicole Wick’s post about Mark Driscoll who bashed stay-at-home dads.

The video is a little old but I was surprised to hear this view from Driscoll given the fact that I usually agree with him. The fact that he was only willing to make “rare exceptions” for men to stay at home to take care of the family was rather appalling to me. In this economic climate and culture, it’s possible for wives to have a better-paying and steadier job than their husbands. In that case, the right way for a husband and father to provide for his family is to let his wife bring in the necessary income for them so that he can be at home rearing the children. (We are assuming in this scenario that the parents have decided they will live off of one income so that one of the parents can be home to raise the children.) An ideal situation would be for a mom to be at home with her children (should she choose to do so) but that is not always the case and I don’t believe that it must always be the case. Driscoll is way off the mark here.

Miscellaneous.

I think there’s more a-brewin’ in my head but the words are all jumbled and I can’t get them out coherently. Some other things going on:

  • I’ll begin editing on my novel soon so that will be quite a challenge. (See hard copy mess in right photo.)
  • I’ll be leading the women’s weekday Bible study during the summer so that’s another exciting thing on the horizon.
  • I’ll also be part of a book club in which we’ll we reading Ed Welch’s When People Are Big and God Is Small. I read through it for the third time last year but highly enjoy the book and find that it’s chock full of wisdom to the point where I don’t mind reading through it again.
  • My husband and I may be going on a trip to Cancun during the summer with my paternal cousins, which I’m highly looking forward to so that I can establish solid relationships with them.

Perhaps you didn’t care to know all that but it made me feel better to type it out.

Food for thought #6: A New Kind of Christianity

~ K ~ 6 Comments

The God Question

McLaren starts out this section by—what seems to me—as apologies for God’s atrocities:

Now, I am in no way interested in excusing or defending divine smiting, genocidal conquest, or global quasi-geocidal flooding; I’m just saying that even if these are the crimes of Elohim/LORD, they are far less serious crimes than those of Theos. (p. 99)

Then McLaren starts in on explaining how God isn’t actually violent but since people see God as violent, they act out how they see God. (Conversely, if we all saw God as loving, we’d all be loving to one another.) He uses an analogy of math concepts revealed in textbooks during the course of a person’s schooling as an example of how humans understand God: at first we learn very basic concepts since we are so immature but then we learn very complex concepts because humans have matured in their understanding of God. And as icing on the cake, McLaren takes a cheap (and distasteful) potshot at Christians who eat meat, subscribe to a just-war theory, and use fossil fuels. (For someone who talks a lot about being humble and mild-mannered, his snark and disdain for Christians who think differently than him is quite apparent in this book. I’ll admit, however, I am guilty of the same toward him now.)

The more I read McLaren’s theories, the more I cringe. The God of the Bible is loving, merciful, gracious, and slow to anger. But the God of the Bible is also a just, righteous, and jealous God. He is not McLaren’s caricature of a bloodthirsty “Theos” but McLaren’s happy-go-lucky description of Elohim is neither the full picture. McLaren often attacks Christians in his book, painting them as fundamental extremists or right-wing Republicans. It’s like saying all Democrats are treehuggers. It’s tough to be open-minded to other people’s opinions or “new” ideas when they brand you with a scarlet letter just for identifying yourself with the same religious group. I am neither a fundamental extremist nor a right-wing Republican yet McLaren often makes me feel as though my view of the Bible makes me part of that group. He couldn’t be more wrong.

I’m easily getting tired of McLaren now. He worries that Christians will use the story of the flood (Noah) to justify genocide [insert eyeroll here] then comes up with this:

Yes, I find a character named God who sends a flood that destroys all humanity except for Noah’s family, but that’s trivial compared to a deity who tortures the greater part of humanity forever in infinite eternal conscious torment, three words that need to be read slowly and thoughtfully to feel their full import. (Endnote: For this reason, I would grimly prefer atheism to be true than for the Greco-Roman Theos narrative to be true. And for this reason, I joyfully celebrate the narrative centered in Jesus as a better alternative to both.) (p. 99, 272)

[insert facepalm here] The ironic thing about the “narrative centered in Jesus” was that Jesus is the one who introduced the concept of hell, or “eternal conscious torment,” as we know it today. What Bible is McLaren reading? (Is he reading one at all?) Continue reading “Food for thought #6: A New Kind of Christianity” →

Food for thought #5: A New Kind of Christianity

~ K ~ Leave a comment

The Bible Authority Question

Not too long ago, I wrote this:

I’m excited about reading through A New Kind of Christianity. I have an open mind about this and am totally willing to transform my Christian faith and live it in a new way with only one caveat: it must remain true to the Bible. If McLaren argues something that goes against what the Bible says, I’ll point it out. We know very little about Jesus apart from the Bible. And we would know nothing about Jesus’ teachings without the Bible. So holding McLaren and his questions and responses to a Biblical standard is neither unreasonable nor unfair since he is talking about the the Christian faith.

In Part II of McLaren’s book, he attempts to address the kind of authority the Bible should have in people’s lives. Considering the Bible is the standard I’m holding him to, I wanted to see how he’d address this issue. First, he addresses how the Bible has been misused. He lists three problem areas:

1. Scientific Mess

Fundamentalism… again and again paints itself into a corner by requiring the Bible be treated as a divinely dictated science textbook providing us true information in all areas of life, including when and how the earth was created, what the shape of the earth is, what revolves around what in space, and so on. (p. 68)

He goes on to say Christians constantly end up “on the wrong side of truth” because of this and talks about how Christians who use the Bible as their scientific standard were wrong in Galileo’s time (heliocentric theory), were wrong in Darwin’s time (evolution), and are even wrong now (climate change/”ecological crisis”). [Note: In a sense, I agree with McLaren—the Bible was never designed as a science textbook and to treat it as such, I think is wrong. I believe what the Bible says on how everything was created but beyond that, the Bible doesn’t get into scientific specifics and to try to deduce things that aren’t there isn’t wise.]

    2. Ethical quandaries

    The Bible, when taken as an ethical rule book, offers no clear categories for many of our most significant and vexing socioethical quandaries. We find no explicit mention, for example, of abortion, capitalism, communism, socialism, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, autism, systemic racism, affirmative action, human rights, nationalism, sexual orientation, pornography, global climate change, imprisonment, extinction of species, energy efficiency, environmental sustainability, genetic engineering, space travel, and so on—not to mention nuclear weapons, biological warfare, and just-war theory. (p. 68-69)

    He goes on to say that Christians have misused the Bible to support unethical positions such as segregation and preventing interracial relationships. [Note: The Bible is not a socioethical rulebook nor I do believe it is intended for that purpose. However, the Bible is very much a moral book—it gives people basic rules to live, clearly saying what should and should not be done. Moral standards influence ethical decisions, hence, why some people refuse to tell even a “white” lie (because God says “do not bear false witness”).]

    3. Trouble relating to peace

    Basically, McLaren paints a broad brush of Christians generally being more hawkish and too eager for war. [Note: I’d actually agree with him here.]

    We must find new approaches to our sacred texts, approaches that sanely, critically, and fairly engage with honest scientific inquiry, approaches that help us derive constructive and relevant guidance in dealing with pressing personal and social problems, and approaches that lead us in the sweet pathway of peacemaking rather than the broad, deep rut of mutually assured destruction. (p. 70)

    In an attempt to show how Christians have radically misused the Bible to support unethical positions, McLaren takes his readers through a historical account of slavery quoting sections of pro-slavery books defending the practice of slavery. While my heritage is not directly tied to American slavery, I found the quotes McLaren used to be painful to read. One or two passages might have sufficed to prove his point, but he devotes more than FIVE pages to pro-slavery writing—something I found needlessly excessive. Why does McLaren have to search so hard to justify his points by quoting idiots? I’m sure there were abolitionist books that quoted the Bible too but that would weaken McLaren’s argument so there’s none of that here.

    Then in Chapter 8, readers discover how McLaren really views the Bible:

    At every turn, we approach the biblical text as if it were an annotated code instead of what it actually is: a portable library of poems, prophecies, histories, fables, parables, letters, sage sayings, quarrels, and so on. (p. 79)

    There can be no argument with McLaren here—he’s made up his mind about how he views the Bible. To him, the Bible is nothing more than a beautiful piece of literary text. He thinks that the Bible should not be seen as an inflexible constitution or rule of law but rather as “a library of culture and community.” (p. 81) Continue reading “Food for thought #5: A New Kind of Christianity” →

    Following Jesus: the best illustration I’ve ever read

    ~ K ~ 2 Comments

    From Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz:

    A long time ago I went to a concert with my friend Rebecca. … I heard this folksinger was coming to town, and I thought she might like to see him because she was a singer too. … Between songs, though, he told a story that helped me resolve some things about God. The story was about his friend who is a Navy SEAL. He told it like it was true, so I guess it was true, although it could have been a lie.

    The folksinger said his friend was performing a covert operation, freeing hostages from a building in some dark part of the world. His friend’s team flew in by helicopter, made their way to the compound and stormed into the room where the hostages had been imprisoned for months. The room, the folksinger said, was filthy and dark. The hostages were curled up in a corner, terrified. When the SEALs entered the room, they heard the gasps of the hostages. They stood at the door and called to the prisoners, telling them they were Americans. The SEALs asked the hostages to follow them, but the hostages wouldn’t. They sat there on the floor and hid their eyes in fear. They were not of healthy mind and didn’t believe their rescuers were really Americans.

    The SEALs stood there, not knowing what to do. They couldn’t possibly carry everybody out. One of the SEALs, the folksinger’s friend, got an idea. He put down his weapon, took off his helmet, and curled up tightly next to the other hostages, getting so close his body was touching some of theirs. He softened the look on his face and put his arms around them. He was trying to show them he was one of them. None of the prison guards would have done this. He stayed there for a little while until some of the hostages started to look at him, finally meeting his eyes. The Navy SEAL whispered that they were American and were there to rescue them. Will you follow us? he said. The hero stood to his feet and one of the hostages did the same, then another, until all of them were willing to go. The story ends with all the hostages safe on an American aircraft carrier.

    I never liked it when the preachers said we had to follow Jesus. Sometimes they would make Him sound angry. But I liked the story the folksinger told. I liked the idea of Jesus becoming man, so that we would be able to trust Him, and I like that He healed people and loved them and cared deeply about how people were feeling.

    When I understood that the decision to follow Jesus was very much like the decision the hostages had to make to follow their rescuer, I knew then that I needed to decide whether or not I would follow Him. The decision was simple once I asked myself,

    • Is Jesus the Son of God,
    • are we being held captive in a world run by Satan, a world filled with brokenness, and
    • do I believe Jesus can rescue me from this condition?

    I like that story about the Navy SEAL, true or not. I like to think of Jesus as my rescuer becoming like me, crouching beside me in my brokenness, putting his arm around my shoulder, and asking me to follow Him.

    I like that very much. Thank you for that illustration, Mr. Miller.

    Midnight ramblings

    ~ K ~ 3 Comments

    When it comes to looking at other female Christians, I’ve always felt like an outsider. Through the lens of my “doo doo” eyes, these females tend to be white, wholesome, and happy. Now that I run with the 30 and older crowd, they also have babies or toddlers. I tell myself I’d die if I were a mommy blogger. I don’t mind being a blogger who happens to be a mom but adding “mommy blogger” to my job description would just about kill me.

    Or maybe not. Because I have no problem being a sellout because I am that desperate for acceptance. On a forum I frequent, someone posted a link to a job description as a reporter for a popular politically conservative website. I’m not particularly conservative politically but I’m not liberal enough for the Huffington Post either. But I’d spout conservative principles if I had to just for the opportunity to write for a living. Unfortunately, on the liberal side, I’d only go so far since the abortion issue is a big problem for me. If I could blog as a pro-life liberal, I’d be okay on that end.

    My counselor in Kentucky used to say to me and my husband, “People desire two things in life: to be right and to be accepted.” I so would prefer to be accepted than to be right. If all the conservatives hated my political views but thought I was an otherwise cool chick, I’d be ecstatic. I don’t care if my friends think I’m a total idiot as long as they love me anyway.

    The only time I’ve ever felt accepted by a group in my entire life was when I joined a sorority at the first (secular) college I attended. In a sense, I feel like I earned the ability to be accepted. I left the college shortly after so my feeling of acceptance by my sorority sisters was short-lived.

    The feeling of acceptance decreased ever since. I attended a fundie Christian college for a few years where I stood out like a sore thumb in various ways: my shirts were too tight or too see-through (even though I didn’t think they were all that bad); I didn’t have a plethora of skirts or dresses I could rotate through; I didn’t look or think as wholesome as those other homeschooled Christian girls; I wasn’t as naive (or maybe I was). I moved joyfully to the melody of hymns during church services while the few friends I had desperately crowded around me to make sure I didn’t get in trouble for moving in time to the rhythm of the music. (I called myself “Bapticostal” during that time.) What was wrong with dancing to music? Didn’t David dance joyfully while worshiping the Lord? Gosh, I was such a freak.

    I still think of myself as a freak. Continue reading “Midnight ramblings” →