One of the newfound subjects of study that I’ve grown to enjoy is philosophy.  Granted, it’s a broad field.  And I’ll be the first to admit that my grasp is rudimentary, to say the least.  I’ve found, however, that I learn best when I write about what I’m reading or thinking through.  Over the last few weeks, I’ve been working through a book called Philosophy of Religion: An Historical Introduction by Linda Trinkaus Zagzebski, as well as some anthologies of ancient writings.  And I’m grateful to be able to take some classes at Lee U with Dr. Timothy Miller (a former student of Zagzebski) who is a gifted philosophy teacher. 

Over the course of the next several Fridays, I’ll list some basic reflections from my readings.  These in no way will be technical reviews; but, hopefully, they’ll engage the material in a critical manner, especially in a way helpful for doing better theology. 

For starters, since becoming a follower of Jesus, I’ve often heard (and made) negative remarks regarding philosophy in general.  Some would quote Colossians 2:8 – “See to it that nobody enslaves you with philosophy and foolish deception, which conform to human traditions and the way the world thinks and acts rather than Christ” (CEB).  So, I tended to shy away from the subject, relying on poor misrepresentations of philosophy in order to refute it (what I’ve later learned to be a fallacious ‘straw man argument’).  Such an approach all too often characterizes our take on that with which we aren’t familiar:  learn just enough about it in order to bash it to prove a weak point to a few peers.

Yet, the text in Colossians isn’t an all-out slam on the practice of philosophy.  It addresses the tendency of some to use philosophical argumentation in order to undermine faith in Jesus.  In point of fact, various persons (even within the Church!) use philosophical and theological argumentation to undermine faith in Jesus.  But, at the same time, there are various folks who use philosophical and theological argumentation to build up faith in Jesus.  So, I’ve grown to consider the learning and practice of philosophy analogously to what Stanley Grenz and Roger Olson discuss concerning theology (in the great intro: Who Needs Theology? An Invitation to the Study of God): the matter is not whether one is a theologian.  All persons are theologians.  The matter is whether one does good theology (or philosophy, in this case).

So, what is the point of philosophy?  Well, Zagzebski contends that philosophy serves as a “critic of all major human practices” (p.1).  (This includes the practice of philosophy itself!)

And it’s interesting to note that philosophy and religion are only separated in the Western world.  The East has no such separation (don’t you wonder why?).  Only in the last 200-300 years did philosophy of religion emerge as a distinguished academic field.  Some contend that the beginning of philosophy of religion per se is best pinpointed with the work of David Hume (1711-1776), Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) and G. W. F. Hegel (1770-1831).  A great resource to explore helpful write-ups about these figures (and more!) is The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (http://plato.stanford.edu/). 

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted anything.  Sorry about that.  I’m just now getting over what’s been a whirlwind of bronchitis. After about 1 1/2 weeks, I thought it was behind me.  And then – round 2!  Thankfully, I don’t think round 3 is coming.

So, I post this in anticipation of what’s to come.  I’ve got various blog series on the horizon that I’m pretty stoked about.  And I’d love to hear your thoughts about some subjects that you’d like for us to cover.  Simply email us via the contact link on the blog site.  Or you can message me via Facebook.  Also, a good way to keep apprised of new blogs is to subscribe via Feedburner (which can be accessed by clicking the “Follow” link that is below the site header).  That way each new blog is sent to your email account.

As many of you know, we’ve entered into my favorite time of the year.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!” 

Not only were Dee and I married in December, we’re super excited about Chloe Grace who should be with us in January.  Also, some dear friends usually come and visit us each year during January.  Nothing is definitive for next month, as of yet, but we hope they can make it around the time that Chloe is born (hint, hint). 

We were blessed to have my mom and grandmother come visit with us a few weeks ago.  They helped (or supervised – lol) us decorate the tree and put up our limited array of Christmas decorations; all while we listened to Christmas music.  Surprisingly, we are a bit limited on Christmas music.  I’m not sure what happened, but during the move (or maybe before), we lost our Christmas cds.  So, we’re down to one cd – Glee’s Christmas cd (2010).  And we put it on repeat!  It was a great, relaxing evening with family.

In the small community in which Dee and I live, there are numerous parcels of land which are for sale.  I forget what the technical term for this type of development is.  I suppose one could say it’s a miniature sub-division.  I guess that makes it a sub-sub-division.  The lots are small.  Yet, the selling point is the community development and the way the houses, lawns, walking areas, etc. mesh with one another.  So, it’s not the individual lot per se that draws you; it’s how it fits within the community.

As I’ve mentioned before, too often salvation is presented by folks as being merely privatized religion.  My forgiveness.  My salvation.  My heaven.  My Jesus.  My bible.  My worship.  My holiness.  My blessing.  My church.  (ad infinitum)  The tendency is to forget the communal nature of redemption.  Some questions that come to mind:  What is the scriptural notion of salvation?  Is it merely accepting Jesus in my heart?  Is it a profession of faith upon which God deposits all that I’ll ever need inside my soul or adds it to my eternal account?  Are proper relationships with others a sign of personal salvation or integral to the salvation process?  Will neglecting to foster such (proper) relationships hinder or endanger a saving relationship with God?

The point of the illustration offered at first is that persons don’t purchase a parcel of land in our community simply to be a landowner.  Meaning, someone must purchase the land with the intent to build (or sell to a builder).  In like manner, the way we often preach salvation is as if God simply wants to be a landowner.  He purchases the lot of land, analogous to forgiving us of past sins, with no intention to build.  Really?  Might it be that God’s redemption is more dynamic than simply the forgiveness of past sins?  Thank God he offers forgiveness of past sins; however, this is one aspect of the redemption process.  He purchases with the intent to build upon that which is his.  And it’s always with the community in mind.  (Notice Romans 6 addresses believers and John 17 is a prayer for believers as well.)

Check out this short video clip which offers a powerful critique of how the gospel is presented in many of our churches and calls folks to revision “salvation” in light of the New Testament picture of God building a people.  (After the Jack Van Impe clip, you’ll hear one of my favorite New Testament scholars, Gordon Fee):

… to be continued

As we’ve had numerous family members and friends visit with us these last several weeks, one of the things we’re sure to do is drive them by Lee U’s new chapel.  The chapel is almost finished and – wow! – it’s beautiful.  The design of the chapel, while contrasting with the “red brick” campus, stands out as a jewel architecturally.  At the heart of this contrast is the exquisite stone construction.

I’ve heard that the pieces of stone are carried in from the great state of Texas.  They’re not all perfectly pre-cut in the sense that they’re immediately ready for workers to place them on the infrastructure.  In fact, masons cut the stone on-site.  They do this in order to make sure that each piece is fitly joined with the others.  If they were to place the stones on the infrastructure as is, not only would the piece be an eye-sore but also the stone might jeopardize the stability of the infrastructure.

Notice in Romans 6 how Paul speaks of believers needing to come to God and (by faith) offer their members as instruments of righteousness.  Of course, this isn’t to say that Christians are beyond the capacity to sin.  Quite the contrary: as long as persons make everyday decisions, the possibility of “missing it,” whether by overt choice or ignorance, is a reality.  Yet, what we see in this text is that the power of sin no longer has the determinative force that it once had upon those who now find themselves “in the Messiah.”

Followers of Jesus continually have to make the decision not to submit to the threats and demands of the old taskmaster, sin.  There’s little doubt this is a day-by-day, hour-by-hour and (at times) minute-by-minute choice.  Importantly, however, the choice stems from a renewed life-source.  It’s a choice one makes upon living on the new side of things.  Before we connected with God, through faith in his Son, there was no way we could meaningfully resist the gravitational force of rebellion.  We resided on “flesh avenue,” with no means of funding a relocation.  Intended to live on “Spirit boulevard,” various circumstances and states of affairs prevented our living where God intended.  With limited currency, power and means, we did the best we could with where we were.

Yet, the Spirit graciously empowers persons to call God up and ask for help.  And life in Christ is truly a relocation.  In fact, it’s a new life.  A new humanity.  So, how can we continue living on Spirit boulevard as if we were still barely getting by (not really) on flesh avenue?  How can we continue enslaved to the power of sin while knowing that the one whom the Son sets free is free indeed?  This is where things get really interesting!  Paul basically says that you can’t.  You can’t continue to claim “relocation” and “new identity” while not truly relocating and living from a new identity.

Again, this isn’t to say that we won’t make mistakes or go awry at times.  It’s to say that believers come to God, in a posture of faith, and offer our means of relating, communicating, thinking, working, playing, living (!) to God as “weapons to do right” (Rom 6.13 CEB).  Such a move, while couched in the context of a dynamic, relational journey with God, has a defining moment when we cry out to God to cut away that which is not of Him; to shape us into the person that we must be in order that we fit jointly alongside others in the faith family (cf. 1 Cor 12; Eph 2).

While this cutting away process is personal, it’s not private.  It’s not to the exclusion of our relationships with others.  Actually, our relationships are essential to the process.  For God is building a people (a temple!), whose Christ-like character is visible through the renewed shape of our lives.

…to be continued

My dearest little girl:

This week numerous persons will get invitations to a baby shower for you and your mom.  In addition to the excitement of seeing family and friends when we travel to Georgia, and of course you being “showered” with many necessities (maybe with some toys thrown in here and there! necessities?!), we’re particularly stoked about the invitations.  Invitations?  Yep.  There’s something especially sweet on the invitations (other than the cool design and layout provided by Mrs. Vicki).  On the invitations, we’ve announced your name for the first time.  Yes, I’m beaming even while typing this.

The fact is that your mom and I have been praying for a while concerning what your name should be.  And then, through various means, we simply knew.  Beyond only liking the ring of a name, we sought something that captures the essence of who you are – the gift you are to us and the world.  And I believe that we’ve done just that.

A few years ago, your mom and I helped edit a New Testament commentary that was written by a friend of ours.  (Check it out because your mom and I wrote many of the review questions after each chapter.)  The commentary covers 1 and 2 Corinthians.  During the extensive study for this project, we learned afresh the heart-breaking scenario facing the Corinthian congregation.

There were those in the Corinthian church who apparently were quite infantile in their faith.  They fell prey to worldly bickering, categorizing, competition and infighting that undermined the stick-togetherness of the faith family.  Basically, worldliness crept into the church.  Brothers and sisters were not viewing others through the eyes of Jesus.

They had forgotten the transformative nature of the gospel; that those who belong to Christ are brought into a faith family whose values and ways of living stand over against the world.  And at the heart of these “values” and “ways of living” involves our relationships with others.  Our relationship with Jesus transforms how we treat others (or at least it should).  We take our cues from how Jesus treated people.  And this is more than simply self-willed politeness.  It’s the relational direction that the Spirit leads us.  As the Spirit led Jesus, the Spirit leads the church.

Numerous folks in the Corinthian church had to realize how bad things really were.  But, then again, one’s eyes adjust to the darkness the longer one is in it.  People were dividing into camps.  Each rallying around certain prominent figures in the church.  Rather than focusing on their identity as a faith family, splinter groups emerged that were more concerned with personal preferences than the overall well-being of the community.

In 1 Corinthians 1.11, Paul mentions how he receives word about the fragmentation of the Corinthian congregation.

My brothers and sisters, Chloe’s people gave me some information about you, that you’re fighting with each other.  (CEB)

Although this division was widespread, it’s obvious from the correspondence that someone finally had enough.  They were tired of the church being less than what she was supposed to be.  Instead of following Paul as he followed Jesus, the church was following worldly standards of judgment and categorization – returning to the poisoned waters of bigotry and pride.  So, a report went out.  The report came from “Chloe’s people.”

Some translations render this “Chloe’s household.”  What stands out about the reference is that during these times “households” were primarily associated with male figures.  Thus, the reference immediately grabs your attention.  So, why does Paul say this?  What might this mean?

Many commentators suggest that the reference lets us know that Chloe was a prominent lady in the community.  New Testament scholar, Ben Witherington III, says that most likely she was “a businesswoman prominent in the Christian congregation in Corinth and perhaps one of Paul’s first converts there.  Her loyalty to Paul is shown by the oral report that she sends him” (Conflict & Community in Corinth, Eerdmans: 1995).  As one of the first converts of the great apostle, Chloe was a lady of influence, hospitality, and witness.  When seeing the fragmentation of a young congregation, she cared enough to send (at the least, to support) a group of persons to take word to the apostle Paul that the church needed help.

This, my dear, is where we got your first name.  We want you to know that the New Testament witness gives primacy of place to the calling and empowerment of the Spirit upon persons in order for them to be and do what God desires.  For too long, and at the expense of so many anointed women of God, the church has placed unnecessary, unbiblical and undermining limitations upon people in order for them to “qualify” for ministry.  Know this, sweet Chloe: you can be whatever God calls you to be.  It’s important to remember that the church is to be an extension of the anointed ministry of Jesus to the world.  And this means the entire church.  The self-imposed dividing lines, limitations, power plays, prejudicial categorization, competition and suchlike have no place among the people of the Spirit.

I say this to encourage you to listen carefully to God’s call upon your life.  And don’t allow the delimiting expectations of a few cause you to doubt what God can do in and through your life.  He is your source, strength and portion.  Although his bride fails to see how special you are at times, love her with the power of Jesus’ love.  Such love is transformative and diffuses through the community.  It is unimaginably powerful to open the eyes of the blind.

Ok, so we’ve covered your first name.  What about your middle name?  Well, this shouldn’t take so long to discuss.  It’s rather straightforward.  Before you came along, your mom and I had a pretty tough year.   Without going into great detail, suffice it to say that our prayer could be summed up by our asking God to help us breath.  Meaning, help us make it through another day, hour, minute by His grace.  We had suffered through quite a bit of loss and heartbreak.  And we needed God to reach into our lives and graciously empower us to flourish in faith and ministry; to be reminded of his ever-present strength amidst the storm.

See, baby girl, we live in the middle of a warzone.  Literally, our world is at war (physically and spiritually) and it breaks God’s heart.  So much so, that he went to great lengths in order to start the healing process in creation; to the point where he gave his very life to hit the reset button for humanity.  The very fact that God engages our pain – caring enough to commit to us in such a way – lets us know who he is.  He doesn’t sit idly by while rebellion wreaks havoc in our lives.  He approaches us in vulnerability, passionate, driven by suffering love.  And his disposition of such loving redemption is best captured in one word – Grace.  This is what you are to us – an expression of God’s grace.

There you have it, Chloe Grace, a brief story of your name.  Oh, I almost forgot.  “Chloe” literally means “blossoming.”  It’s fitting that you are God’s grace blossoming before our very eyes.  And this is simply the beginning.  Our dreams for you abound.  The world awaits your arrival this January.  We truly believe you will transform the world for the glory of Christ.

With infinite affection,

Dad

A few days ago some friends shared with us what their pastor preached Sunday morning.  The message overall was about worship and how too many of us define the term by 15 – 20 minutes of singing before someone preaches in a church service.  Such a deficient understanding of worship has dire ramifications in the everyday life of the faith family.  One statement that our friends shared still resonates in my mind – “the problem with living sacrifices, which is what we’re called to be, is that they are constantly trying to get off the altar.”  Wow.  How true this is.

Personally, I have the uncanny ability to compartmentalize my “faith” or “spirituality” from other “parts” of my life.  I don’t think I’m alone in this struggle.  But, nonetheless, I have to war against this tendency to approach worship in a compartmentalized, overly reductionistic manner.  Quite honestly, it’s easier to section things off as being spiritual or non-spiritual and then shift gears in the appropriate context.  Please excuse the elementary illustration; but it’s kinda like my past approach to weight loss.

When Dee and I lived in Birmingham, I was traveling on a weekly basis to and from Cleveland in order to complete my M.Div.  During this time, for various reasons, I had this mindset that I could eat basically whatever I wanted as long as I showed up at the gym a few times a week.  While in the gym, I was super conscientious about being healthy.  And for the most part, I didn’t bring any cinnamon crunch bagels with hazelnut spread onto the treadmill.  Yet, after completing my weight-lifting routine (with little to no cardio), I would leave the gym feeling as if I’d paid my fat-loss-dues, sadly leaving behind my commitment to being healthy as well.

The result?  I peaked at the highest weight I’ve ever been in my life.  Keeping a compartmentalized notion of being healthy actually was leading to an early death.  I had good intentions but little follow-through.  I knew in my heart of hearts what I needed to do (after all, years ago I was a personal trainer for goodness sake!).  Yet, it was easier to live (and eat) by convenience than commitment to true transformation.  That is, until I’d had enough.

At the beginning of the summer, we committed ourselves to a more holistic view of being healthy; one that soaked through each area of my life; one that influenced my eating, exercise, work and sleep; one that had the true potential to change my life (and body).  By God’s grace (and I mean that sincerely), my peak weight that I reached in Birmingham now rests 37lbs in my past.  I’ve still got quite a ways to go, but the point is that my fragmented approach to fitness gave way to our renewed vision and commitment to being healthy.  Had it not, a doctor at UAB told me I was looking at open heart surgery in my late 30′s (!).

In a similar way, it’s easier to approach worship in a compartmentalized fashion; something that we do every-now-and-then rather than who we are as a worshiping community.  But think about the poor health of our faith families.  Not just physically but in all areas of life.  Might our reductionistic notions of worship affect our faithfulness to Jesus?  How might the view that “I’ve got Jesus in my heart” prevent someone from understanding what it means graciously to follow Jesus with one’s life?  In what ways can we band together as brothers and sisters in Christ and push past compartmentalized notions of Christianity?

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been discussing the first several verses of Matthew 5 that I recently shared with some amazing students at youth camp.  At the heart of our chapel messages, we explored the call for and cost of being a follower of Jesus.  Beyond putting our hope in a civic religion to save the day (raising our voices simply in the name of “Christian” principles or systems), and refusing to settle for the twisted picture of Jesus that looks more like a golden calf that folks made from materialism, individualism or militarism, the Spirit calls us to enter a life-altering quest with God and others.  On God’s terms.  Not ours.

Wasn’t it Dietrich Bonhoeffer who said:

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”?

And die we must – to notions of spirituality, godliness and sufficiency that haven’t Jesus as the end and the means.  For the ways to configure one’s spiritual wiring are legion.  We do so many things in the name of a higher purpose, destiny, the “script” of life, etc.  Yet, Jesus enters our warzone of a world and shows us a different way – a direction of love, selflessness, peace, joy, community – the way of the Father who rescues us from so many things (sin, disease, Satan, death), including the mortal enemy of indifference.

What I’ve tried to make clear these last several posts is that such a call to follow Jesus is costly.  It’s not to say that it’s too costly.  It’s to underscore that the magnitude of grace at work in Jesus’ life, suffering, death and resurrection is to be matched by the empowering presence of God’s Spirit at work within the Church.  Yes – God’s redemption is freely offered to all.  No – this doesn’t mean that it will not cost us everything to live as the redeemed.  And though it costs everything, in the end and along the way, we find Him worthy.

…to be continued

“Happy are people who make peace, because they will be called God’s children” (Matt 5.9 CEB).

During the youth camp chapel services, one of the most tremendous times of prayer that we shared with the students was when we preached from this text.  We discussed the brokenness of our world and the resultant rebellion and fragmentation.  Going to the root of who we are, this rebellion pervades all of creation.  And tied to this is the heart-wrenching way of violence that infects human nature and the overall created order.  I was at a loss for words when so many of the children stepped forward for prayer because they had suffered at the hands of violence.  Not only was their prayer for strength to forgive; many asked for God’s help to return kindness to those who cursed them, blessing to those who abandoned them, mercy to the maligning.

During Jesus’ time, as is the case in ours, there were those who contended they were to bring about God’s kingdom through violent means.  Basically, they adopted a tit-for-tat means of enacting “God’s justice.”  In Stassen’s work (Living the Sermon on the Mount), he identifies this group as the Zealots.  These were a band of folks who called themselves the “sons of God.”  At times, they may have had good intentions.  However, Jesus’ words flew in the face of their self-understanding.  Basically, they had an “ends justifies the means” ethic of determining how they would treat others (as opposed to the “ends inform the means”).  This proved catastrophic for the gospel of peace and the way of Christ.  A great resource that goes more in depth about this is – Mere Discipleship: Radical Christianity in a Rebellious World – by Lee C. Camp.

I realize that I’m on hotly debated ground here.  Yet, I’m learning that this is an essential aspect of following Jesus – that of peacemaking.  Admittedly, I continue to struggle in my own life regarding what it means to be a “peacemaker.”  How is this even possible, practically speaking, especially considering my context?  What are ways in which we, as a faith family, can be advocates of peace who show an alternative way of living than that of the violent world in which we live?  I’m still wrestling with such questions.

What I am sure about, however, is that Jesus is the Prince of Peace.  And if we’re going to follow in the “ways of Jesus,” empowered by the Spirit of Christ, then peacemaking cannot be a peripheral issue.  Granted, this doesn’t mean that we don’t struggle with this.  I’m reminded of a statement by Stanley Hauerwas concerning his commitment to nonviolence.  He shoots straight:

“I say I’m a pacifist because I’m a violent [person]… I’m a Texan. I can feel it in every bone I’ve got. And I hate the language of pacifism because it’s too passive. But by avowing it, I create expectations in others that hopefully will help me live faithfully to what I know is true but that I have no confidence in my own ability to live it at all. That’s part of what nonviolence is–the attempt to make our lives vulnerable to others in a way that we need one another. To be against war–which is clearly violent–is a good place to start. But you never know where the violence is in your own life. To say you’re nonviolent is not some position of self-righteousness–you kill and I don’t. It’s rather to make your life available to others in a way that they can help you discover ways you’re implicated in violence that you hadn’t even noticed.”

What often happens when discussing peacemaking is that opponents gravitate to some extreme hypothetical scenario.  For example – “If someone was going to harm a loved one, are you going to sit passively by and watch it?!”  And then based on that hypothetical, they conclude that violence is justified for followers of Jesus.  Or some quickly recite the passage concerning Jesus cleansing the temple as a justification for followers of Jesus to adopt the tit-for-tat way of violence.  Further, some embrace a strictly spiritual (non-physical) interpretation of Matthew 5.9 and contend that Jesus is referring to the peace brought about by the proclamation of the gospel, as persons experience peace with God by surrendering their lives to Christ.  Really?

These are just a few examples.  What I don’t read or hear too often are ways that we can embrace the passage and (re)imagine what it means to be peacemakers.  Of course this entails that we ask some soul-searching questions.  For example – How might walking in the Spirit entail walking in the way of (Christlike) peace?  And what does this look like in everyday life?  What does this mean for a Spirit-filled community of believers?  What does it look like for the Church to find her identity more in the Gospels’ picture of Jesus than in the identity (or citizenship) of a nation-state?  What happens when the Church, after looking at herself in the mirror, walks away and remembers herself as a political party or various form of (this-worldly) governance?  Does she continue to look like Jesus?  Does nonviolent mean passive?  Is it possible actively to combat evil in a peaceful way?  etc.

What’s heartbreaking is when we simply don’t ask the questions; when we don’t wrestle with the call for a peaceable witness representing a peaceable kingdom.  What’s at stake may be more than we realize… more than we imagine.