Saturday, February 28, 2009
I'm going to give this another try...
I've been living for myself lately and it hasn't been working out very well so I'm going to give the whole "abandonment to the will of God" thing a try again. I'll let you all know how it works out.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Doubt
For the past ten years, no intellectual challenge to my faith has awakened so much doubt within me as what the philosophers call "the problem of evil." In short, it asks, "If God is all good and all powerful, why do such bad things happen in the world?" I took a full course on it in college and another full course on it in seminary and the question STILL haunts me from time to time. When I weep over the way women are being raped in the Sudan I admit that it shakes my faith in an omnipotent, omni-benevolent God. But today in my lenten reading I came across a quote that I found profoundly encouraging and would like to share it:
"I should think ill of any preacher who confesses himself untroubled by all those aspects of our experience summed up in what we call the problem of evil. I should expect him, if he were really a God-sent man, to be familiar with terrible visitations of doubt, to have moments when all the solutions of the problem of evil, even those which he himself has attempted, seem to him in vain; and I should expect those visitations to be more terrible for him than others. Being the man he is, he must needs have his times of perplexity, nay, his times of extremity. They are among the conditions of his service and he must be willing to bear them as a good soldier of Christ. He enlists upon the possibilities that await him, and when they come he must still say to himself, 'for this cause I was born and for this I came into the world.' No less is required of him by the traditions of the service. They were established in the Garden of Gethsemane." - L. P. Jacks
I find tremendous comfort in this and, in fact, it makes me suspicious of those pastors who seem to always have all of the answers wrapped up neatly in a nice, clean package. If seminary taught me anything, it taught me that when talking about God (that "darkness which is above the light" as Miester Eckhart called Him) nothing is as simplistic as we'd like to make it.
Instead, I would love to see a church in which honest, difficult questions are embraced rather than hushed. After all, if God is the God of all Truth, then He will be able to handle our questions. In the meantime, we can rest assured that questioning and doubting is a part of the Christian life and is as natural to it as a soldier taking enemy fire.
"I should think ill of any preacher who confesses himself untroubled by all those aspects of our experience summed up in what we call the problem of evil. I should expect him, if he were really a God-sent man, to be familiar with terrible visitations of doubt, to have moments when all the solutions of the problem of evil, even those which he himself has attempted, seem to him in vain; and I should expect those visitations to be more terrible for him than others. Being the man he is, he must needs have his times of perplexity, nay, his times of extremity. They are among the conditions of his service and he must be willing to bear them as a good soldier of Christ. He enlists upon the possibilities that await him, and when they come he must still say to himself, 'for this cause I was born and for this I came into the world.' No less is required of him by the traditions of the service. They were established in the Garden of Gethsemane." - L. P. Jacks
I find tremendous comfort in this and, in fact, it makes me suspicious of those pastors who seem to always have all of the answers wrapped up neatly in a nice, clean package. If seminary taught me anything, it taught me that when talking about God (that "darkness which is above the light" as Miester Eckhart called Him) nothing is as simplistic as we'd like to make it.
Instead, I would love to see a church in which honest, difficult questions are embraced rather than hushed. After all, if God is the God of all Truth, then He will be able to handle our questions. In the meantime, we can rest assured that questioning and doubting is a part of the Christian life and is as natural to it as a soldier taking enemy fire.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Two Competing Loves
For some years now I have felt a tension between two different definitions of love.
The first is quite popular in American culture, but especially prevalent among the liberal elites of our society. This is love as kindness. In other words, if we would all just leave one another alone, tolerate behaviors as long as they do not directly interfere with the happiness of another human being, and rid ourselves of old-fashioned religious standards (which "suppress" our humanness), then the world would be a much better place. This is indeed an attractive option to me. For example, on a certain level I would be very glad to have my closest of friends simply "accept me for who I am" and not try to change me and not feel the need to rebuke or reshape my character on some level. This form of love would see my imperfections, but instead of attempting to surgically remove them (which would undoubtedly be a painful process) it would embrace them as being part of the essence of Greg Coates -- a lovely and yet imperfect being. Under this definition of love, the phrase "Your God loves you as you are, but He is not willing that you should stay that way" is an object of mockery. In short, love of the first type is a "live and let live" love, a love that places tolerance above confrontation, and a love that looks askance at "objective standards of morality" as oppressive -- a wet rag on the goodness of life. Furthermore, this love is rooted in an anthropology that insists we are basically good.
The second definition of love goes something like this: Who you are and who you ought to be are different from one another. The intense love that I feel for you refuses to allow me to remain indifferent toward the deficiencies in your character because who you OUGHT to be would ultimately lead to a greater level of happiness for both you and those to whom you relate. C. S. Lewis describes this love well in the third chapter of his book "The Problem of Pain:"
You asked for a loving God: you have one... not a senile benevolence that drowsily wishes you to be happy in your own way, not the cold philanthropy of a conscientious magistrate, nor the care of a host who feels responsible for the comfort of his guests, but the consuming fire Himself, the Love that made the worlds, persistent as the artist's love for his work and despotic as a man's love for a dog, provident and venerable as a father's love for a child, jealous, inexorable, exacting as love between the sexes.
In other words, the second form of love believes in objective standards of behavior which are weaved into the fabric of the universe such that only those who live in consistency with them could ever experience true happiness. To tolerate and allow the "stains" on our character to fester and linger like a cancer is the opposite of love. And we can no more wish them to remain within ourselves than "a dog, once having learned to love man, could wish that man were such as to tolerate in his house the snapping, verminous, polluting creature of the wild pack." (Lewis)
The first love insists that there is not need for me to be tamed. The second insists that a loving person/God will do anything possible to tame me. The first love looks at the second and calls is judgmental, Pharisaical, smothering, and harsh. The second looks at the first and calls it wimpy, Hippy-ish, diluted, and fake.
Lewis argues for the second love and I'm inclined to agree with him. He calls the first love "mere kindness" and claims that those who want God to show them their type of love are actually asking for less love, not more. Lewis concludes: "Whether we like it or not, God intends to give us what we need, not what we now think we want... If we will not learn to eat the only food that the universe grows -- the only food that any possible universe could ever grow -- then we must starve eternally." Hence, we have an argument for what Christians down through the centuries have called "holiness." We are not what we should be and love has an obligation to bring us to the place where we are ultimately happy (i.e. holiness).
The first is quite popular in American culture, but especially prevalent among the liberal elites of our society. This is love as kindness. In other words, if we would all just leave one another alone, tolerate behaviors as long as they do not directly interfere with the happiness of another human being, and rid ourselves of old-fashioned religious standards (which "suppress" our humanness), then the world would be a much better place. This is indeed an attractive option to me. For example, on a certain level I would be very glad to have my closest of friends simply "accept me for who I am" and not try to change me and not feel the need to rebuke or reshape my character on some level. This form of love would see my imperfections, but instead of attempting to surgically remove them (which would undoubtedly be a painful process) it would embrace them as being part of the essence of Greg Coates -- a lovely and yet imperfect being. Under this definition of love, the phrase "Your God loves you as you are, but He is not willing that you should stay that way" is an object of mockery. In short, love of the first type is a "live and let live" love, a love that places tolerance above confrontation, and a love that looks askance at "objective standards of morality" as oppressive -- a wet rag on the goodness of life. Furthermore, this love is rooted in an anthropology that insists we are basically good.
The second definition of love goes something like this: Who you are and who you ought to be are different from one another. The intense love that I feel for you refuses to allow me to remain indifferent toward the deficiencies in your character because who you OUGHT to be would ultimately lead to a greater level of happiness for both you and those to whom you relate. C. S. Lewis describes this love well in the third chapter of his book "The Problem of Pain:"
You asked for a loving God: you have one... not a senile benevolence that drowsily wishes you to be happy in your own way, not the cold philanthropy of a conscientious magistrate, nor the care of a host who feels responsible for the comfort of his guests, but the consuming fire Himself, the Love that made the worlds, persistent as the artist's love for his work and despotic as a man's love for a dog, provident and venerable as a father's love for a child, jealous, inexorable, exacting as love between the sexes.
In other words, the second form of love believes in objective standards of behavior which are weaved into the fabric of the universe such that only those who live in consistency with them could ever experience true happiness. To tolerate and allow the "stains" on our character to fester and linger like a cancer is the opposite of love. And we can no more wish them to remain within ourselves than "a dog, once having learned to love man, could wish that man were such as to tolerate in his house the snapping, verminous, polluting creature of the wild pack." (Lewis)
The first love insists that there is not need for me to be tamed. The second insists that a loving person/God will do anything possible to tame me. The first love looks at the second and calls is judgmental, Pharisaical, smothering, and harsh. The second looks at the first and calls it wimpy, Hippy-ish, diluted, and fake.
Lewis argues for the second love and I'm inclined to agree with him. He calls the first love "mere kindness" and claims that those who want God to show them their type of love are actually asking for less love, not more. Lewis concludes: "Whether we like it or not, God intends to give us what we need, not what we now think we want... If we will not learn to eat the only food that the universe grows -- the only food that any possible universe could ever grow -- then we must starve eternally." Hence, we have an argument for what Christians down through the centuries have called "holiness." We are not what we should be and love has an obligation to bring us to the place where we are ultimately happy (i.e. holiness).
Monday, February 9, 2009
A High Calling
Today is one of those days that makes it all worth it. It was a hard day, but a very good day. Weeks go by that we provide groceries to needy people and they seem unresponsive, unthankful, and remain stuck in their patterns of co-dependency. But not today. Today they flooded the altars, presenting their requests to God, and calling upon their higher power to deliver them from addictions. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I went to a house a few doors down to convince an angry ex-convict not to beat her neighbor to death with a baseball bat. We talked, we prayed, I listened to a constant stream of anger. And then I presented her to God, reminded her that anger will make her a slave, and prayed for her to find the power of forgiveness. She wept and gave it to God and promised to not reach for that baseball bat any more. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I traveled across town to sit for a few hours with an elderly man whose 42-year-old daughter died last night of complications related to colon surgery. I held hands with this spiritual giant as he told me that Jeshua is his fortress and his strength and that God is using this pain to make him into the man God wants him to be. I cried out to God with him in his agony and we embraced and shed tears and praised the name of God in the midst of the storm. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
After weeks of struggling to start a recovery group for smoking addicts, two ladies showed up tonight, smiling with their toothless smiles and saying, "Well, we're here." The chains of addiction are breaking and the gates of hell cannot withstand this onslaught. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I sat in a board meeting tonight with a career military man and watched as his heart was softened to the plight of the inner city poor. I noticed the fire in his voice as he spoke about the injustice of a little church like ours being underfunded when other churches including his own have so much. I saw a mini-conversion -- a conversion from blind middle class American values to informed, heart-wrenching pain for the poor. I saw this ex-Marine look in my eyes with his tearful eyes and say, "I love what you're doing here." This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I rejoice today, God. Thanks for letting me be part of your team. Not every day ends this well. Not every day is filled with such holiness (or at least I don't notice it). But today you filled my cup. You reminded me why I fight the battle of the near eastside. You reminded me what a joy it is to be one of your agents for change in the world. Thank you for this high calling. Your mission and your beautiful coming kingdom make life worth living.
I went to a house a few doors down to convince an angry ex-convict not to beat her neighbor to death with a baseball bat. We talked, we prayed, I listened to a constant stream of anger. And then I presented her to God, reminded her that anger will make her a slave, and prayed for her to find the power of forgiveness. She wept and gave it to God and promised to not reach for that baseball bat any more. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I traveled across town to sit for a few hours with an elderly man whose 42-year-old daughter died last night of complications related to colon surgery. I held hands with this spiritual giant as he told me that Jeshua is his fortress and his strength and that God is using this pain to make him into the man God wants him to be. I cried out to God with him in his agony and we embraced and shed tears and praised the name of God in the midst of the storm. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
After weeks of struggling to start a recovery group for smoking addicts, two ladies showed up tonight, smiling with their toothless smiles and saying, "Well, we're here." The chains of addiction are breaking and the gates of hell cannot withstand this onslaught. This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I sat in a board meeting tonight with a career military man and watched as his heart was softened to the plight of the inner city poor. I noticed the fire in his voice as he spoke about the injustice of a little church like ours being underfunded when other churches including his own have so much. I saw a mini-conversion -- a conversion from blind middle class American values to informed, heart-wrenching pain for the poor. I saw this ex-Marine look in my eyes with his tearful eyes and say, "I love what you're doing here." This job of pastor -- it is a high calling.
I rejoice today, God. Thanks for letting me be part of your team. Not every day ends this well. Not every day is filled with such holiness (or at least I don't notice it). But today you filled my cup. You reminded me why I fight the battle of the near eastside. You reminded me what a joy it is to be one of your agents for change in the world. Thank you for this high calling. Your mission and your beautiful coming kingdom make life worth living.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Plea for Advice
Matt and Maggie are pseudonyms. I'll take ANY and ALL advice!
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Case Study:
Matt and Maggie have been part of First Church off and on for about 4-5 years, but have increased their level of commitment over the past year. They joined the 12 week membership class offered by Pastor Greg and attended faithfully offering substantive interaction and feedback. On the last Sunday of December 2008, Matt and Maggie joined officially as members with the understanding that they would faithfully attend a smoker's recovery group and hold to the commitments set forth in the Book of Discipline. These two are a particularly needy couple – they demand lots of special attention, financial resources, and pastoral care. It is not rare for the pastors to receive 4-5 calls per day (EACH!) from Matt about needing a ride to somewhere or payment for something or prayer for something. All was fine until the third Sunday of January. Pastor Greg was on vacation and Jim, Martha, and Brian were in charge. During our weekly time for sharing prayer requests, one girl stood to thank the church for helping her financially surrounding the birth of her firstborn daughter (although she's actually been helped by a member of the church, not the church institution itself). This evidently angered Maggie who prompted her husband to stand and say the following:
“Why does this church help our her when we have asked for money for our rent and been denied? After all, we're members and she is not! Maggie and I are very angry and we are leaving this church for good and never coming back! We give back our membership!!!” Following this, they stormed out of the sanctuary from the front pew where they were sitting. The service, which had been highly enthusiastic and filled with the Holy Spirit, seemed deflated. Pastor Jim did his best to move on with the worship time, but the congregation was somewhat shell shocked.
Not long after this, Matt and Maggie wanted to pretend that it had never happened and be welcomed back into Sunday morning worship. Pastor Greg sat down and explained to them that they had hurt the church and revoked their membership in front of everyone. He kindly asked them to refrain from coming back to Sunday morning worship for a while to let the congregation heal from the hurt that they had caused. He informed them that he would have been happy to talk with them about their grievances privately, but that they had decided to rebuke the church on Sunday morning and that the consequence of this was exclusion from membership and communal worship. This exclusion was something all four pastors had discussed and agreed was the best course of action for the present time. Although this was communicated calmly and in a loving way, Maggie stormed out of the office and told Pastor Greg that he should be fired from his job for speaking in such a way to his parishioners.
Matt and Maggie also attend our Monday food pantry and Pastor Greg gave them permission to continue coming in order to get groceries.
Since then, Maggie and Matt have not returned to Sunday morning, but have contacted a number of our members and told them “we want to come back, but the pastors won't let us.” Some of these members are concerned that we acted too harshly to exclude them – although in the pastors' defense, they feel that Matt and Maggie have decided to exclude themselves (the church is just holding them to their word).
Questions: Did the pastors make the right decision to tell Matt and Maggie to find a new church home? Should the pastors reverse their decision if Matt and Maggie show that they are genuinely sorry for what they did? Where should we go from here? Does the Scriptural passage below have any bearing on this case?
Titus 3:10-11 10 Warn a divisive person once, and then warn him a second time. After that, have nothing to do with him. 11 You may be sure that such a man is warped and sinful; he is self-condemned.
-----
Case Study:
Matt and Maggie have been part of First Church off and on for about 4-5 years, but have increased their level of commitment over the past year. They joined the 12 week membership class offered by Pastor Greg and attended faithfully offering substantive interaction and feedback. On the last Sunday of December 2008, Matt and Maggie joined officially as members with the understanding that they would faithfully attend a smoker's recovery group and hold to the commitments set forth in the Book of Discipline. These two are a particularly needy couple – they demand lots of special attention, financial resources, and pastoral care. It is not rare for the pastors to receive 4-5 calls per day (EACH!) from Matt about needing a ride to somewhere or payment for something or prayer for something. All was fine until the third Sunday of January. Pastor Greg was on vacation and Jim, Martha, and Brian were in charge. During our weekly time for sharing prayer requests, one girl stood to thank the church for helping her financially surrounding the birth of her firstborn daughter (although she's actually been helped by a member of the church, not the church institution itself). This evidently angered Maggie who prompted her husband to stand and say the following:
“Why does this church help our her when we have asked for money for our rent and been denied? After all, we're members and she is not! Maggie and I are very angry and we are leaving this church for good and never coming back! We give back our membership!!!” Following this, they stormed out of the sanctuary from the front pew where they were sitting. The service, which had been highly enthusiastic and filled with the Holy Spirit, seemed deflated. Pastor Jim did his best to move on with the worship time, but the congregation was somewhat shell shocked.
Not long after this, Matt and Maggie wanted to pretend that it had never happened and be welcomed back into Sunday morning worship. Pastor Greg sat down and explained to them that they had hurt the church and revoked their membership in front of everyone. He kindly asked them to refrain from coming back to Sunday morning worship for a while to let the congregation heal from the hurt that they had caused. He informed them that he would have been happy to talk with them about their grievances privately, but that they had decided to rebuke the church on Sunday morning and that the consequence of this was exclusion from membership and communal worship. This exclusion was something all four pastors had discussed and agreed was the best course of action for the present time. Although this was communicated calmly and in a loving way, Maggie stormed out of the office and told Pastor Greg that he should be fired from his job for speaking in such a way to his parishioners.
Matt and Maggie also attend our Monday food pantry and Pastor Greg gave them permission to continue coming in order to get groceries.
Since then, Maggie and Matt have not returned to Sunday morning, but have contacted a number of our members and told them “we want to come back, but the pastors won't let us.” Some of these members are concerned that we acted too harshly to exclude them – although in the pastors' defense, they feel that Matt and Maggie have decided to exclude themselves (the church is just holding them to their word).
Questions: Did the pastors make the right decision to tell Matt and Maggie to find a new church home? Should the pastors reverse their decision if Matt and Maggie show that they are genuinely sorry for what they did? Where should we go from here? Does the Scriptural passage below have any bearing on this case?
Titus 3:10-11 10 Warn a divisive person once, and then warn him a second time. After that, have nothing to do with him. 11 You may be sure that such a man is warped and sinful; he is self-condemned.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
I'd Like To Register A Complaint, Please
Forgive me, sir, for my impudence, but I really must register a complaint. If you're as big and as patient as they say you are, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. The gist of my beef with you is that you just seem so distant sometimes. I mean, people say that you are loving and that you are relational at your very core. In fact, some people who study you and your ways tell me that you've been in a perpetual relationship forever and that you always will be. They also say that you're interested in relating to all of us "down here." And I want you to be my best friend, but you never call. I haven't even once gotten an e-mail from you and I never even see you update your status on Facebook. I try different things to meet you like getting away from it all just to be with you, but I just keep hearing silence. And I'm not the only one who is bothered by this. I just talked with two others this morning who feel the same way. So why do you have to be so distant? If I called my dad and asked him for a moment of his time to chat or offer some advice, I know that he'd drop what he was doing to be there for me. And one time I read that you said, "If you earthly father knows how to give good gifts to his children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him?" Well, I guess I'm asking. Would you show yourself to me in a small, simple way? I would like to be your friend, but I keep getting your voicemail.
At least I'm not alone in my feeling of isolation. Misery loves company. Evidently, you've been quiet for millennia. So I'll pray again a prayer that was prayed over 3,000 years ago:
How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death. Psalm 13:1-4a
At least I'm not alone in my feeling of isolation. Misery loves company. Evidently, you've been quiet for millennia. So I'll pray again a prayer that was prayed over 3,000 years ago:
How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death. Psalm 13:1-4a
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