Not The Religious Type

Do You Need Answers or Possibilities? / Brian Odom (Chicago, IL)

I had actually been planning to write a post about apologetics, inspired by a conversation I had over the holidays. Dave beat me to it, but maybe my recent experience can add something to the already great discussion going on here over the last few days.

While waiting in line for a Christmas family photo—I’m sure you are sympathetic—I was talking with my brother-in-law about Nobel prizes. The guy behind us in line, named Ken, figured out that I was a physicist and asked if he could buy me a cup of coffee and ask some questions about cosmology. I found out over coffee that Ken was both pleasant to talk with and very knowledgeable about a wide range of science and philosophy. He teaches a youth Sunday School class devoted to apologetics, and he is a big fan of a website called reasonstobelieve.org. Ken’s primary interest in apologetics lies in “removing barriers to belief”, and he is especially interested in letting Christian kids in college know that aggressive atheists are not the only ones with evidence and good arguments (similar to a recent comment from Evan).

I tracked with Ken on those goals, but we diverged somewhat from there. He was interested in discussing an argument about fine-tuning—that there is likely to be a God, because the constants of nature (speed of light, Planck’s constant, etc.), which could in principle be anything, instead seem tuned in a very precise way in order to make life possible. I disappointed Ken by sharing my impression that fine-tuning arguments were on their way out, since most modern cosmologies allow for constants to be very different elsewhere in the “metaverse”. True, we exist in a special pocket, but it’s no real surprise that such pockets exist. The difference between Ken’s disappointment and my shrug was quite notable. In the end, Ken was interested in finding some answer about God or Reality at the end of a rational argument, whereas I would leave a discussion completely unruffled if my faith still seemed plausible. (If Ken were writing about our conversation, he would probably say, in a friendly tone, that I was smart enough but a little wimpy when it came to claiming ground which was available for the taking.)

Another point of departure for us was that apologetics plays an important role in Ken’s own sustained faith. He explained that a family member’s unexpected health problems recently brought him to a crisis of faith; it was only certain arguments about design in the universe that gave him strength to hang on to God. It was interesting that he has had plenty of experiences with God (he happens to be part of a charismatic church), yet that his experiences were just not enough in the face of a severe crisis. For me, things seem somewhat different. When I hit a crisis of faith, I do sometimes turn to a sort of apologetics for help—but my version is to recall personal experiences which are hard to convincingly explain away as coincidences. Most important for me, though, is that while my whole life ten years ago was one extended crisis of faith, nowadays I only seem to have these crises on weeks that I haven’t spent much time with God. If God and I are getting time to interact, all those unanswered questions are still interesting and important, but they don’t seem to have much deal-breaking weight.

What are your feelings along these lines? Are rational or historical arguments for God or for Jesus important in maintaining your faith? If apologetics are helpful for those or other reasons, which flavor works best for you—finding your way to answers or finding space for plausibility?

How Important to You is Defending the Faith?

Thanks for your thoughts on the last post on faith and guilt.  And it was fun to touch base with John Loftus.  I ventured over to his blog as well (www.debunkingchristianity.blogspot.com) which was fun (there's some skepticism about me over there... :) ).

Reading John's book on a flight yesterday got me thinking about the whole endeavor of what gets called in Christian circles "apologetics"--rationally defending Christian faith.  It has a long history--though, to my mind, it's had a special place in the heart of evangelical modernists.  It just fits very well with the modernist agenda of "proving" things.  My experience in Cambridge and Boston has been that apologetics is off-putting to most people considering faith, not least to super-educated people considering faith, which was a surprise.

What folks seem to want more is help finding an actual way into an experiential faith or not--in which case they'll know to look elsewhere.  Any thoughts on that from your perspective?

I'm also curious what you think about apologetics at all--either for faith or, as per John, against faith.  Perhaps some of you have read John's book and can comment, but I know that many of you have read Dawkins or Harris or Dennett or Hitchens, so you'll at least have a sense of what John's trying to accomplish.

I find myself torn.  I both engage (on both sides--I've spent my time with Lewis and "Liar, Lunatic, Lord" along with Harris, et. al.) and withdraw.  The "engaging" side of me likes this stuff academically and as a loyalty test--"Take that, you debunker!"  The withdrawing side finds the terms of the conversation beside the point of anything that will actually help me (or--maybe this is an overstatement?--anyone).

For all my early interest in apologetics, I think I can say that my pursuing it has never done anyone (maybe apart from me at some subconscious level) any good, almost as if this isn't the fuel we're designed to run on.  I can wonder if, back to the stages stuff we sometimes talk about (see above if it's new to you), apologetics can be helpful in Stage 2 (establishing the boundaries of what you believe and knowing how to take the fight to those evil Stage 3 people) and in Stage 3 (knowing what you no longer believe and why those Stage 2 people are idiots who are easily intellectually defeated but distressingly persistent in their societal influence). 

But, should there be anything to this Stage 4 stuff, it all just seems wearying now.  Can we just get ON with it?  Yes, truth is very important, but somehow this seems like a very limited, reductionist take on truth.  It has a role to play, but perhaps there are other roles as well.

All that said, John is every bit the effective debunker that the rest of the gang are (take a look) and I suppose I'll need to weigh in at points to the best of my very-limited ability (I should have taken better notes in all those early apologetics sessions...).  But, what think you?, is this stuff more important than my inclinations want to believe?

Does Faith in Jesus Produce Guilt?

I recently got invited onto a radio show to chat with John W. Loftus about his book Why I Became an Atheist: A Former Preacher Rejects Christianity.

My guess is that my book's subtitle—Confessions of a Turncoat Atheist—is what got me on the show. Two stories from people who went different directions! It looks like we tape in a couple of weeks; I'll keep you posted.

But that did motivate me to pick up Mr. Loftus' book. It's a long one, 428 pages with chapter titles like "Do Miracles Take Place?" and "The Strange and Superstitious World of the Bible" and "The Problem of Unanswered Prayer." I'm just at the start, but he starts with a bang, filling out his own story of pastoring, picking up advanced theological degrees (with big name advisers like William Lane Craig), then experiencing a series of disillusioning events—having an affair with a woman who then went on a vendetta against him, going through a series of ugly church episodes where his motives were misunderstood, finally remarrying a wonderful woman who, among other virtues, shares an atheism with him which has contributed to the life-giving freedom he's now experiencing, post-faith.

And his story is central to his first major objection to faith, one that I have a lot of sympathy with and would love your thoughts on.

Namely does faith in Jesus by definition produce one of two equally unappealing states of being: constant, low-level guilt or an unexamined, denial-driven life?

How could we not live in constant guilt, Loftus asks. The demands of the Bible are that we pretty much never screw up. (Yes, forgiveness is a major feature of New Testament faith, but there is a constant moral code present as well. If you "get forgiven" but don't do so well at changing your ways…well, that's bad.) It also has high standards towards things very few of us feel regularly good at: constant fruitful evangelism, persistent care for the poor, tithing and free-flowing financial generosity, and an immaculate inner life (no lust, no unresolved anger). Far from removing burdens from our life, sincere faith by definition adds burdens.

The only way past these burdens is to be shallow and unreflective. A bumper-sticker faith (along the lines, say, of "I'm not perfect—just forgiven!") can superficially remove this tension by ignoring it. So pick your poison: constant unresolved burden or a lobotomy.

What do you think? (Since I'll soon be chatting about such things on air, I'm serious—what do you think?!)

But I think Mr. Loftus is onto something. Either this can be spun on its head (i.e., far from adding burdens, faith in Jesus is our only hope of removing intrinsic burdens) or this is a major problem for faith. I'm guessing that some distinctions we often chat about here—a living experience of God versus experiencing God as a compelling concept) would have to play in.

But, that said, what do you think? Is he onto something? How do you work with his objection?

Leading Centered-Set Worship Music/David Linhart (Cambridge, MA)

I’m sure God digs traditional hymns with words like “Thou” and “Ebenezer” that get churched folk going. Even still, I’m sure he digs a worshipful experience that helps unchurched folk let their guards down before him. Here are a few things that I believe honor God and pull in everyday people at the same time. It’s not a formula, just a starting point.

#1) People relate to authenticity over righteousness. It’s ironic when someone who loves Jesus and also Led Zeppelin decides to become the Christian Led Zeppelin. Meanwhile, the original isn’t trying to be the secular Led Zeppelin, they are just being themselves. They live out who they actually are through their music. People get into them for their authenticity more than their binge drinking and partying, and the authenticity is exactly what can make the latter attractive to someone who isn’t into those things in the first place.

That’s why it can be awkward when musicians clean themselves up for church and try to do the right thing by playing traditional worship, but then reserve the night clubs and listening rooms for letting their hair down and making the music that is most sincerely who they are. That disconnect can make for unconvincing worship leading. Even God might say “Wait a sec—show me your best, bring all of your passion and talent, live out your love for me through the music.”

#2) People relate to personality over polish. A slick hi-fi performance can’t summon the emotions of a sincere lo-fi performance. Secularly speaking, the singer/songwriter genre is one of those rare circles where no one is chasing you into your shell. People actually want to know the real you, and if people can see connections between their lives and yours, you just might win them over. To apply this idea to writing worship songs that invite others in we must ask—is the goal making relevant music or being a relevant person?

Gospel blues pioneer Mississippi Fred McDowell became relevant by living through the challenges that everyday people live through. When he was chased down by blues historians bringing rural Southern music to the larger public in the 1960s, he was working hard as a farmer, playing neighborhood social gatherings and church services. He knew struggle and humility and the sustaining power of faith. Perhaps he had read Paul’s advice to the Thessalonians (4:11-12 NLT)—“Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before. Then people who are not Christians will respect the way you live…”

#3) People relate to hope over answers. Asking questions and having doubts can mean that a person is engaging and processing. With our lyrics, are we cutting off the process with answers or empowering the process with hope? God loves when we step out of the way of his plans to mature new followers through the work of the Holy Spirit. Helping folks respond to the light in their life with a soft nudge toward the center—Jesus—is no small contribution on our part, but let’s not overestimate our agency. God’s got to be at work for our work to mean anything.

Any significant cultural shift is always accompanied by a soundtrack that captures the contour of that shift. When we think of what the 70s or 80s were about, do those decades gel in our minds without the associated popular music? So what will the soundtrack of centered-set faith be?

Reader Mail!

From Dave:

Happy Inauguration Day, everyone—or those who care about such things! I listened to Obama's speech and was my usual impressed self, like many people, at his gifts at public speaking. May the experience of his presidency match that of listening to him speak!

"Ryan NYC" wrote with a question that he agreed to let me post here for our first-ever "reader mail" moment. I'll look forward to hearing your thoughts! I have my own thoughts, but I'll wait a bit before chiming in in the comments section.

Onto Ryan:

Hi Dave, we've met a few times, this is Ryan from Mike T's church in Brooklyn.  I just finished a conversation that's left me somewhat reeling and thought that perhaps the reason for my frustration might be an interesting topic for your 'Not Religious' blog.  The phone conversation I just had went to the topic of whether I'd ever marry a girl who was not "the same religion" as me. 

I don't know a ton about the girl I was talking to, which is maybe how the conversation went wrong in the first place, but she's basically of the opinion that God may exist, but that no one can claim exclusivity to the truth about him, that 'all roads' lead to him, so religious labels are irrelevant.

I tried explaining that I've given the topic a lot of thought, that it's a tricky thing to answer b/c we're talking hypothetically about a girl who I know nothing about, but that at the end of the day, I would find it hard to share married life with someone who didn't share such a major and important aspect of my life; I figured it'd cause friction at some point.  I never said the words "I wouldn't marry a girl who isn't the same religion as me," but that was certainly her takeaway (in those exact words).

Her argument was that as long as the girl is a "good person" and shares the same moral values, that it shouldn't matter what they believe and that it is close minded to say that they have to believe the same religious principles.  I said that what I cared about didn't involve any religious principles or even beliefs per se, but that I believed God is an actual living person who I try to involve in every aspect of my life and that I would probably need to have my partner involved in that God relationship too. 

I made every effort to use non-dogmatic phrases and language, and tried to use a center-set approach in my explanation (which I now realize I failed miserably at - I was probably using more bounded-set explanations, which begs the question is this a bounded-set issue or can the girl be 'traveling toward Jesus' and have that be good enough for marriage???), but I feel that in her eyes, I only reaffirmed the closed-minded religious attitudes that are distasteful to secular society.  She made a few comments that make me believe she was projecting certain negative experiences she's had on this topic to what I was saying, and as I sit here writing, I wonder if the real question she was asking was "do you accept people who have different beliefs than you."  I certainly hope that wasn't the case, b/c I went down in flames in her eyes on that. 

Anyway, I won't belabor the point with further details of the conversation, but I guess I'd like to hear you and the blog crew weigh-in on the topic of how to have that conversation w/o sounding like an a-hole.  Or, what their thoughts are in general about it.

What's Your Dream?

 

Here are some words for the day that might ring a bell.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."²

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

                Free at last! Free at last!

                Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

Famously Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream that was so compelling it led to action that carried a nation along with him.  I suppose, in my vastly smaller way, I also have a dream (maybe one of several, but I’ll pick one):  I have a dream that rich and compelling conversations about faith would become commonplace and increasingly powerful in the most secular parts of our country.  

It seems that, among many things we can take from MLK Day is that God gives us dreams and that those dreams can become powerful as we take the time to listen to what they are.  So take this opportunity on Martin Luther King Jr. Day to ask God what the dream he’s given you is.  And then tell us!  What’s the dream God is giving you or rekindling?

On Think-Tanks and Unexpected Centered-Set Conversations

Evidently I'm becoming , telling you the details of how I spend my days.

But I have had some intriguing days recently.  Over the weekend I was in Maryland at a confab of folks from around the country who were helping an author brainstorm a new book which has hopes of resetting the spiritual conversation in our country.  There were folks there from Hollywood, from the NYC theatre world, from business, from publishing and, oddly enough, me.  All at a beautiful setting paid for by someone else (except, I suspect, for the businesspeople who, one guesses, paid for the rest of us). 

And then this morning I was invited to chat about the subject matter on this blog to Harvard's chaplains' group.  These are folks from evangelical, Jewish, Zoroastrian, Hindu, Swedenborgian, humanist/atheist, and other traditions, and I couldn't have had a better time.  I also had a good time with the Maryland think tank gang and met some folks there I very much hope to stay in contact with.  But there was something uniquely encouraging about joining in with the good faith efforts of such a diverse group of leaders working to discover what the "center" (in the centered-set sense) of their common experience might be. 

We heard, for instance, about as moving a story as you could imagine from the Jewish chaplain.  He described the ongoing friendship-building on campus between Jewish and Palestinian students.  As the Gaza crisis has unfolded, they came together for a vigil.  The Harvard fire marshal--clearly a global citizen--shut it down on the quad because they wanted to light candles.  So the Hillel students said, in effect, "I can totally understand why you all wouldn't want to set foot in a Hillel center.  But if by some chance you'd be willing, we could hold the vigil there."  And so they did, and it evidently was incredible.

I connected with a new reader of this blog, the humanist/atheist chaplain who is coming out with his own book, Good Without God, later in the year and snagged me to see if we might consider doing some joint events together.  As he and I both know, usually pastors and humanist/atheist leaders get together to debate, which neither he nor I have any interest in.  But he suggested we might pioneer a new model of dialogue around these things, and I am so there. 

All to say, good job gang!  Here's hoping we're learning together how to chat about faith in a fresh and productive way.  I'll keep you posted with whatever I'm learning along the way, and here's hoping you'll do the same.

Three Cheers for Anyone Experiencing God!

Or, if you prefer, as I do, "three cheers for anyone experiencing Jesus!"

A periodic concern about the sorts of things we talk about here is that they're somehow over/against other experiences of faith.  And I'm sure that's very much the case sometimes, as always comes with talking about anything--it's always hard to make any point on any subject without drawing some contrasts. 

But just to put my oar in the water that the heart of what we'd, I'd think, want to cheer on here is anyone and everyone experiencing and encountering God.  Or, to use the words of the gospels, anyone and everyone following Jesus, which surely involves an ongoing experience of and transformation by Jesus.

Wherever that happens, I'd think we'd all be all for.  If that happens for someone who's in a faith community you'd never personally enjoy, hey, fabulous!  More power to them!  In fact, if they'd be so kind, what are they experiencing of Jesus that they could teach you?  (And I'd think we'd be particularly eager to learn from folks experiencing God rather, perhaps, than those who are eager to help people believe certain things about God but don't seem to be experiencing much of God themselves.)

So this, I'd hope, would tear down a kind of wall between the stages we often talk about, or between the bounded and centered-set perspectives.  If you're being changed by and encouraged by the living God, whatever so-called "stage" or "set" you're in, wow, awesome, you go!

So then what is the value of talking about "stages" and "sets" and the related topics that come up?  It seems to me the only value would come for people who feel that such conversations would give them and those they care about a better shot at our common goal (to reiterate for the quiz to come: experiencing God).  No good (of course; I'm confident you'll agree with me) will come from using these perspectives as a weapon to condemn or dismiss anyone or any group.  Their value, I'd think, will come from helping us hone what it is we're hoping for for ourselves, those we care about, and any communities we have any influence in. 

Something these perspectives will also do, it seems to me, is keep us out of arguments rather than propel us into them.  That said, resolutely staying out of certain arguments in the religious world can, itself, be regarded by some as an aggressive and hostile choice.  The value of this centered-set stuff would seem to be that all we're concerned about is would "x" or "y" best help people actually experience God?  That could merit a ton of discussion, push back, and so on.  But it does change the terms so often used in religious arguments, which tend to be: is "x" or "y" correct in an abstract way?  Those arguments, whatever their "rightness," tend to hold less interest for folks who are more captivated by a centered-set perspective.

Perhaps this explains the pitch for the Bible I was trying to make a few posts back.  This is just me here--some of you have thoughtfully argued this point on this blog--but I remain about as enthused as I can imagine towards the Bible.  I'm eager to think about it all and follow every little bit of it on the terms that the New Testament authors would want from me (the Old Testament authors too, for the most part; it's just that the NT gang often gives us a spin on certain OT perspectives).  But what this is saying is that it's an article of faith from this point of view that the Bible will always point us towards Jesus and towards everything he has to offer.  Sometimes it's hard to see how this could be the case, which prompts deep thought and prayer and batting different possibilities around.  But the question then ceases to be, "What's 'right thinking' about 'x' passage in an abstract sense?" and transitions to "How does taking this very passage seriously help point me (and perhaps others) into a profound experience of God?"

All to say, three cheers for anyone, from any background, any faith community who's experiencing God!  You go!  Teach us everything you know! 

Stage 4 Kids and Teens Groups?

 

Intermingled in our ongoing conversation about homosexuality and church was a guest post from Kenny Petrowski about what specifics of a Stage 4 community might look like. 

Vinceation and others chimed in specifically about what working with kids and teens in such a community might look like.  If you target them, as most kids should be, at Stage 2 (or, as most teens should be, at Stage 3), will you ultimately stall them out on the road to Stage 4?  He's plaintively asked that we think together about this so, Vinceation, this one's for you!

That said, it's not as if I have so much to say on the subject, but maybe some of you all have more thoughts.  It would seem to me that you'd want two things going on simultaneously, in an ideal world.  The leaders of your kids and teens groups would themselves be happily ensconced in Stage 4.  But they'd have a strong identification with the stage needed for their group.  So kids leaders could cheerfully lead from Stage 2 and teen leaders could cheerfully lead from Stage 3...while very much realizing that those are waystations to another place.  Where kids and teens ministries historically get into trouble is when they're led by people who themselves are committed to either Stage 2 or 3, both of which run dry for many young people. 

If the leader, though, can actually listen to what they're hearing from the given young person and can answer them by pointing them towards the center (God) and by modeling a pathway to Stage 3 or 4, whichever's next... I don't know, that would seem pretty hopeful to me.

But I don't lead such groups.  Czechhaitian, you do, so any thoughts here?  Vinceation?  Others?

Let's Go Meta

I've had all sorts of thoughts about where we might go next after our titanic homosexuality and church conversation. 

I'm in a reading jag, so there might be interesting things to say about, say, happiness--how to get it and how much we should value it.  I'm reading a ton of battling takes on that now, the mystical take (Mother Teresa's Come Be My Light in which she embraces a kind of mystical misery as she identifies with the miserable); the scientific take, in which the "positive psychology movement" presents their latest findings on our happiness set points and what's in our control; the ancient philosophical take, in which the stoics and hedonists and Epicureans battle for their differing takes on the matter; the patristic theological take in which happiness is summed up in the phrase "eternal life" (argued by them as only applying to heaven--hell is never, in their minds, described as "eternal" in that sense; hmmm...) which encapsulates all our aspirations; the Augustinian take (seeing and being transformed by God), and on and on and on.  Surely there's something interesting to be said there. 

I'm also reading the massive new biography of Warren Buffett, in which he argues that it's his moral imperative to make as much money as possible and give as little as possible of it away (as every dollar he gives away he could make into ten) with the plan to give pretty much ALL of it away at the end of his life, when it will have its maximum value.  And then, against all odds, he basically did that.  I don't know what it is, but there seems to be something deeply theological to talk about in that.

But, with that lengthy preamble, maybe the thing that's most ripe at the moment is to, as they say, go meta about our homosexuality conversation.  ("Meta-processing" is talking about the conversation you're having, rather than just having the conversation.) 

A fun thing happened when I shut down the conversation--a number of you immediately sent me lengthy, great emails about what you would have commented in the conversation had you actually felt safe to comment.  And the stuff you all wrote in the emails was awesome and totally on topic.  (Granted, some of it took the form of really insightful descriptions of your bewilderment on the subject.)  Which made me think it might be worth taking a moment to talk about how that conversation went and perhaps why it didn't seem as productive as it might to many of us.

To my mind, that first round of conversing took the form of catharsis--which may have been important--of some of us getting things off our chest about the subject rather than talking to each other towards a goal.  The stakes of the conversation are so high, for many of us, that it can seem threatening to have an open-ended conversation towards an uncertain goal.

Some of the stances taken, while understandable, struck me as unproductive after they were initially made.  There was a fairly insistent thread that we "be biblical" by addressing one scripture in particular.  I'm one hundred percent for being biblical, but to do that I think we'd need to look at the scriptures in their entirety in a way that I'm not persuaded has yet been done.  So that would require real work and thought biblically--which would be at odds with a "biblical" stance that starts with a reaffirmation of strongly-stated views focusing on a few key scriptures.  And, again, it would be open-ended: who knows what conclusions we'd draw.  I'm entirely fine if we bring the history of theology into that (clearly I'm pretty into that) but that would need to include the Philos of Alexandria as much as--I'm not meaning to be incendiary here--the Hank Hanegraaffs.

Secondly, as a community we seemed to have a particularly hard time doing something we've, before this, been good at.  Namely talking about a subject from a perspective, that of what we're calling Stage 4 or Centered-Set Faith.  Either of those perspectives puts a kind of discipline on our conversation that I think really works in our favor.  It forces us to think, the opposite of which, perhaps, is to react.  I felt as if I did make a few faltering attempts to refocus us that direction in the conversation, but, in the heat of passion, it struck me that those attempts were pretty much disregarded.  A few folks picked up on what, to them, were objectionable comments I made in passing while ignoring the actual shape I was trying to give the conversation. 

So, for today, let me ask you all a few questions.

1. What did you notice about the conversation itself?  Did that teach you anything?

2. In an ideal world, where would you want this conversation to go?  (My dream, for instance, would be that it would provide a clear, totally biblical, way to invite all people to fully participate in experiencing everything God has to offer.  We may not be able to get there, but it's my dream, and I'm sticking to it.  How about you?)

3. Are there things that get you scared as you stick your toe into this conversation?

Feel free to take on any or all of those!

And, to great acclaim, they moved on

I've had such a great time with this blog and have so appreciated the good-hearted and thoughtful commenting on a wide range of subjects, all circling around what I and many of you are hoping will be a fresh and helpful expression of faith.

For whatever reason, this last, very generative cycle around homosexuality has felt like my least enjoyable experience thus far with the blog.  And, if I'm picking up on the tenor of several of your comments on this last post, I'm not alone.

And perhaps that's not surprising, as this topic is the current standard-bearer of difficult and divisive topics for people trying to follow Jesus.  We may just not have enough consensus on this blog about both the subject itself (which is hard to have consensus on, because the terms at the very least I was trying to set were that a new, not-yet-articulated answer is needed) or about our broader view of faith to have this conversation just yet. 

So I'm going to shelve it for the moment.  Let's see if we can get some momentum behind us on a broad range of topics related to Stage 4 faith.  And maybe sometime down the road we'll have enough wind at our back to take another pass at this. 

That said, thanks so much for not being shy about wading into such challenging waters. 

Next post: A fresh topic.

The Bible, God's Goodness, and Homosexuality

Well, 51 comments (at this writing) on the "Centered-Set Thinking and Homosexuality" post.  Struck a nerve, maybe?  Our previous record was, if memory serves, 21 comments.  True, a few of you had a lot of the back and forth, but still.

Can I mention a few things I noticed in the many exchanges of comments, and then propose some starting points for this and, I suppose, all discussions here?

I was intrigued by the give and take about whether "gay" could describe an orientation or only sexual behavior.  In my circles, it would be assumed it could describe both.  I don't mean that politically: as I mentioned, I'm entirely on board with the self-description of "struggling with homosexuality" and have seen lots of good things come from that.  I'm just pointing out what I think is the non-controversial point that, rightly or wrongly, many people do regard themselves as gay by orientation.

I was also intrigued by the give and take about how the Bible fits into this, with views ranging from "the Bible makes this conversation moot" to "well, it depends on which scholars you read" to "culture sometimes appropriately moves on from the clear teaching of the Bible, as it has with women leading men in churches."  Let’s see if this question might propel us into some starting points for our conversations to come.  Like perhaps:

1. God is only good news for anyone who turns God's direction.

We've had some rip-roaring disputing over this point in the last few months here, but evidently I remain unmoved.  And, just to reiterate, this is not some new-fangled quirk of mine: this is the central truth of historic theology.  So I just started a new course on CD from the Teaching Company.  It's on The History of Christian Theology, from a professor at Eastern University (Baptist, if I'm remembering).  And, there you go, he begins it (and we're looking at a 36-session course) by saying that the bottom line upon which all theology is based is that God is only good news to anyone who turns to God. 

Now why are we tempted to push back on this point?  I think it's because our life often seems hard and because we read newspapers and are constantly reminded of the world's horrors.  But I wonder if this is where the point from last Monday's post comes in: this world-view requires high faith.  With high faith, we can take all our hurts to God, knowing that God is happy to speak to us, whatever difficulties we might have in hearing.  And, as we do that, we know that God always has something good for us.  It might not be what we were thinking would be true for our lives (I was working through some disappointment at dashed expectations just this week), but it will always be good, because God is good. 

Centered-set would seem to have a lot to say about this.  When we actually are able to stop our dithering and complaining and just be still before God, suddenly a lot of encouragement and goodness comes our way.  When we aren’t, it doesn’t. 

But the very heart of what we're talking about here is that God is always good to everyone who turns God's direction.  That's the only card we have to play.

Clearly this has some relevance to the conversation about homosexuality and God.  Does God in fact only offer good news for the person who regards themselves as gay who turns God’s way?

2. The Bible only offers good news to anyone who turns God's direction.

That can be harder.  As was pointed out in the comments, that's often seemed dubious to women who wondered why they had to be silent in church (and wear head-coverings, etc.).  Or to slaves who were told to serve their masters.  These seemed iron-clad only a few decades or generations ago, and yet clearly they seem less iron-clad now.  But what changed, to my mind, wasn't the goodness of the Bible, but the lenses through which we read it.

Taking the second first, as the abolition movement gained steam among folks trying to follow Jesus, some folks began to notice something novel: namely that the Bible never prescribed slavery, for all the slaves taken in the Old Testament and for all the lack of condemnation of it in the New.  It never actually said slavery was a good and just thing.  It just talked about what to do if you were in that situation. 

And actually, as the leader of a church which encourages women to teach and lead at all levels, where the head of our preaching department is a woman, clearly I've taken a stance on those passages.  Yet my stance isn't to overlook or discount any scripture.  It's to notice the complexities that taking the Bible seriously on this point brings up--such as that Paul, who wrote all the challenging scriptures that seem to prohibit women from teaching and leading actually personally encouraged and affirmed a lot of women in just those roles himself. Junia, Priscilla, and Lydia, to name three.  And he seemed--a mere chapter in 1 Corinthians before seeming to prohibit women from speaking in church--to command women to speak in church (everyone should desire to prophesy).  So more must be going on here.  My take on what that "more" is in each case has led me to my view.  But that comes from a conviction that the Bible is not ever bad news to anyone who's turned themselves towards God.

So maybe I'll stop there with the starting points. 

So we’re having this conversation at all because an increasing number of people are feeling that a group excluded from premise #1--that God is only good news to anyone who turns God's direction--is anyone who regards themselves as gay. 

The traditional take on scriptures that talk about homosexuality has, rightly or wrongly, seemed to offer no hope and no invitation to anyone who regarded themselves as gay.  Yet that would undercut the central claim of Jesus and the Bible.  And so we seem to have some new opportunities for prayer and theologizing.  Because if the Bible itself undercuts God's goodness to all people, we all have a problem.

Again, as I mentioned in the comment section of the previous post, I do have a hypothesis about how all those things go together.  But I thought I'd still leave that hypothesis for another day, and see if I could reframe our conversation just a skosh.  Thoughts?

Essential Ingredients of a Stage 4 Community?

by Kenny Petrowski (Brooklyn, NY)

From Dave: Kenny actually anticipates what may well be the next book we're looking at.  So write the book for us!  I (and Kenny) eagerly await your thoughts.

And happy new year!

I'm not one for recipes for life or "success" (mostly because they often seem to be prepackaged substitutes for the real thing), but wondering if you & the blogsphere had some thoughts on essential ingredients for building a stage 4 church community.

In our journey as a community it feels as though we've stumbled across some key ingredients, themes, ideas that we've gotten great mileage out of, but I often wonder if there are other nuts & bolts type things that other's have stumbled upon that we just don't know that we don't know.

To get started, here are a few ingredients that seem to be yielding this kind of community by us:

• Treating people like adults who have value & unique ideas (even when they don't seem to be acting like responsible adults or their ideas are off the wall) and not like children who need to be told what to do.
• Building frienships with people just because, without agendas. Anyone who wants to be "in" is "in" by virtue of that they're friends with us.
• Doing things that make people think about the what & why's of faith. Meeting for church in bar has actually been a massive conversation starter about the nature of church, faith, God, people, culture. Our bartenders have actually been "evangelizing" our church to their friends as a "you won't believe this… but they're actually the real deal & some of the nicest folks around" (my paraphrase, except the itals which are a quote).
• Being clear about the center. People will sometimes ask us outside the bar "what kind of gospel you guys preaching" (thinking we're trying to buck the system) & the response of Jesus & what it actually could be like to follow such an intriguing person keeps things in the center.
• Experiencing the Holy Spirit in our lives today
• Teaching that inspires further thinking, not just gives answers
• Keeping some sense of orthopraxy, even though it's done our way. People say that they feel like they're coming to a church service & not just to some party.

 Other ingredients that you've stumbled across? Comments on these?