On The Bible

The more I discuss interpretations of scripture, the more I come to an inevitable conclusion.  A person can legitimately use the bible to prove radically opposing ideas.  Yes, I said legitimately.  Over and over and over and over I listen to people insisting and arguing about "what the bible says."  Both sides arguing feverishly (myself not infrequently one of the ones arguing) and throwing scripture verses like stones.  Both sides using commonly accepted interpretive principles (different principles at different locations).  Both sides generally using the Bible as a legal document to prove their point about God or morality or politics or whatever suits their fancy.  And both sides doing so justifiably, coming to valid conclusions that are diametrically opposed.  What does that tell us about scripture?

I just can't help but come to another conclusion:  I don't think we're using scripture the right way.  Scripture is a testimony.  It is a story of how God has worked in the lives of the heroes (and at times, the villains) of our faith.  I cannot find where its writers insist that it is of inerrant nature.  They do claim a kind of authority for themselves and for their writing, but I don't know if the kind of authority it claims is the kind of authority we want to push off on it.  I do believe scripture is inspired, but I fear that my understanding of inspired is not the same as large portions of the Christian community.   Neither do I find that they are consistent with their own specified understanding of inspiration.

The question is... how should we be using it.  Hmmm... I have some ideas.  Maybe I'll consider them on here sometime.

Unconditional (Again)

I am bone weary of the old line, "Scripture never says God's love is unconditional."  First of all, I'm not sure there was koine Greek word that was an exact match for "unconditional."  But it's written all over Scripture in the large letters of God's behavior and heart, even if it's not in the fine print.  Today, someone quoted Hosea 9:15 in defense of the conditional love of God:

All their evil is at Gilgal; Indeed, I came to hate them there! Because of the wickedness of their deeds I will drive them out of My house! I will love them no more; All their princes are rebels. (Hos 9:15 NAU)

Pretty convincing right?  But for God's sake, look at the BIG picture.  God told Hosea to take a prostitute for a wife - A PROSTITUTE! - as an example of his love for his people.  It can't get much clearer than this,

Then the LORD said to me, "Go again, love a woman who is loved by her husband, yet an adulteress, even as the LORD loves the sons of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love raisin cakes." (Hos 3:1 NAU)  

God loves his children in complete and utter faithlessness.  God's final word in Hosea 9, "Return to me, my anger has passed, I am going to bless you and keep you in my love."  And HOSEA is supposed to be a good example of God's conditional love?  I don't think so.  But to dispense with all this, let me just quote my response to this person:

You're right that scripture doesn't use the word "unconditional." That is a true statement. And yet...

Of the (arguably) four Greek words for love (storge, phileo, eros, agape), "agape" does in fact include the meaning of selfless, unconditional love (as that of parent to child). Of course, if you want to get into the semantics of "unconditional," that's a different matter. Obviously parent-child love requires the condition of a parent-child relationship. But that relationship is generally assumed by people who are talking about God loving his "children" or creation unconditionally.

Secondly, unconditional love is EXEMPLIFIED in the New Testament (and particularly the gospels) over and over again. The stoning of the adulterous woman in John 8 (setting aside the questionable pedigree of that passage), the woman at the well, the healing of the man let down through the roof by his friends, the thief on the cross.

I could go on, but "unconditional love" is most clearly demonstrated in the cross and in Jesus' own words, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." My friend, it doesn't get any more unconditional than that. Jesus demonstrates the very love he taught his disciples (Mat 5:43-48), "love your enemies." Why? Jesus answers, "so that you may be sons of your Father in Heaven." So you can be like God, like your Daddy, who loves his enemies too. "Be perfect [complete, whole]," says Jesus referring directly to that unconditional loving nature, "as your Father in Heaven is perfect."

And this we know, we interpret the Old Testament by the New. JESUS is our hermeneutical key and the cross is our chief interpretive principal. If there appears to be a conflict between Hosea and Jesus, go with Jesus any day of the week.

Faith in Faithlessness

My shoes are wet.  My feet are cold.  I am not enamored with the beauty of nature.  I am distracted by its inconvenience.  It is in these moments that I realize how disconnected I am with the ways of God.  God has created a beautiful mystery even in the fragile wonder of the morning dew and all I can see is how it frustrates my intentions.  That's just like me.  I am not a model of faith.  I am a model of foolishness.  I am thankful that Jesus loves prostitutes and sinners and fools.  I am in good company.

The past four weeks has been one of the hardest periods of my life.  Since we made the decision to move back here, it's been like a 5 mile free-fall drop into uncertainty.  The virtually non-stop work has been a mercy from God.  I have little time to dwell on all the ways this could fall apart.  I'm exhausted at night, but at least I can sleep.  No energy left to stay awake all night worrying, a skill at which I have become exceptionally proficient.

Still, no matter how busy, there is always the loneliness.  I've always felt lonely.  But recently I have been particularly justified in the feeling.  I have no one here.  Traci has her family.  And I suppose I have them as well, though I feel like I am constantly a guest in someone else's life.  I can see her changing a bit since we moved here.  I am glad to see her healing in some ways.  I have put her through so much over the past 16 years, it's a small thing for me to feel lonely so that she can be happy.  I should thank God for letting me see past myself for a few brief moments for the sake of my family.  It's sad to recognize that those moments are indeed so few.

That doesn't change the fact that I miss the people who have become so deeply engraved upon my life.  When things went to hell in Iowa, there were some who loved me through the pain and the betrayal and the morass of despair, hopelessness and crushing self-doubt.  I miss them very, very much.  I thank God for them, and I feel in some ways like I have lost them, even though I know I haven't.  Not really.  Again, you know how much you've loved someone by how much you miss them when they're not with you.

I know that God is with us wherever we go.  But sometimes we really are alone.  I don't think it's right to deny that.  Loneliness is not an illusion.  However, we are never completely alone.  Never without the life and the love that is Jesus.

I am looking forward to what God is going to do here.  At the same time, I'm scared to death of what he's going to do here.  I was reading a biography of Rich Mullins recently and I resonated with a comment that he made about feeling like the plow that takes all the hits as it turns the soil.  In reality, I know that I have really suffered very little.  But I do feel like that sometimes.  I feel like it's my role in life to smack into all the rocks.  I suppose the good news is, all I have to do is weather the hits.  I'm not the one driving the plow, I'm just one of many blades; I just have to stay in the ground and go where God drives me.  That thought makes my heart rise into my throat, and I feel in this moment like maybe that's who I want to be.  Maybe that's who I always have been.  Maybe I shouldn't be afraid to be who I am.  God, please don't let the collateral damage take out my family.  Protect my children.

The past few weeks have been like the dew in my life.  My toes are squishing around in wet shoes now, but the sun is rising in the east and in His glorious wonder God is soon going to burn it away.  And in my own foolish Israelite way, I will miss it when its gone.  I don't know how a person can miss pain, but I always do.  And I'll see how even cold feet are a blessing, and how, if only I had faith, I would have enjoyed the beauty of the dawn.  God grant me the grace to trust you and see the beauty of your love in every moment.

In the same biography of Rich Mullins, there was quote from Brennan Manning's typical benediction.  I want to share it with the me who will read this later - and anyone else unfortunate enough to stumble upon this blog:

May all of your expectations be frustrated,

May all of your plans be thwarted,

May all of your desires be withered into nothingness,

That you may experience the powerlessness and poverty of a child

And can sing and dance in the love of God,

Who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Amen.

A Conversation That Never Happened

Some things I wish I would have said, to the voice inside my head.

The door closes and the room feels to small for the tension and the elephant sitting awkwardly and uncomfortably between us.  He slides a tray out of his desk and writes something on one of many post-it notes stuck there.  The drawer closes and we face each other over the massive cherry desk.

The Voice Inside My Head:  So, what brings you here today?

Me:  Well, it's been three years.

TVIMH:  I guess it has.  (Pause).  So... rumor has it you're leaving town.

Me:  For once, rumor has it right.  And how are things here?

TVIMH:  Doing well.

Me:  I'm glad to hear that.

Silence.

Me:  So, I guess, before I left, I wanted to clear the air.

TVIMH:  I see.  (The faint hint of a frustrated smirk shows at the corners of his lips.)  I think the air is clear enough.

Me:  Maybe not.

TVIMH:  I think you've had your say.  You're finally going away and I'm not going to have this discussion with you.  (He starts to get up and leave.)

Me:  Genesis 50:20.

TVIMH:  What?

Me:  Genesis 50:20.  "You meant it to me for evil, but God meant it to me for good."

TVIMH:  You have a lot of nerve!

Me:  Maybe.  I'm still not sure yet.  But I wanted to say "Thank You."

Silence.

Me:  When I met with you guys right before the end, M** said, "I hope that some day you'll be able to agree that this was the right thing to do."  Back then, I remember feeling there was something prophetic about his words.  That's why they've stuck with me all this time.

He sits back down in his chair, a doubtful but intrigued look on his face.

Me:  Don't misunderstand me.  What you did was wrong.  I can't judge your reasons.  Maybe you honestly thought you were doing the right thing; but I suspect that at the end of the day, you know that your behavior was wrong too.  But even if you don't, it doesn't matter.  I wasn't perfect either.  There were things I could have done differently.  Could have done with more understanding.  Could have done more or less of.  

Still, I want you to know I tried.  I really did.  Up until the very end, I tried to do everything as best I could.  It felt like you guys were ripping my heart out and hanging me out to dry, but I wanted to do what Jesus would do.  

That's why I didn't fight it.  I suppose you could have used my history against me if I had refused to step down.  I hope you would have been above that.  But it was possible.  However, in the end, I left willingly because I honestly wanted to do the right thing.  Because I didn't want my family to suffer even more unnecessarily.  Because I didn't want to cause a storm in the church.  Because I didn't want to damage the church anymore than you already were threatening.  Because I didn't want to be where I wasn't wanted.  Because...  Well, maybe because I was just so damned tired and part of me knew that it was the right time to go.

And it was the right time to go.  That's really why I came by today.  To tell you that M** was right.  I agree that it was the right thing.  It was high time for me to leave, but my own pious loyalty would never have let me.  I loved you, and I would have stayed in that hideous, psychologically abusive work relationship until you drained me of every bit of confidence and trust I had.  

I've learned that you can do the right thing for the wrong intentions; God can show mercy and love even in our own hateful actions.  It's a comforting thing to know, considering I'm not innocent either.

It hurt that I had given 6 years of my life supporting you despite your relentless pride and arrogance which had been crippling the church long before I came.  It killed me that I tried so hard to do the right thing and the whole time you were busy burying me in slander to the people that I loved and tried my best to serve.  I almost couldn't believe when I heard some of the lies that you (and the others) spread about me, even after I left.  It hurt like hell.

Of course, I know there are two sides to every story.  Maybe in the end we were both wrong.  Maybe some of the lies you told were truths I just can't acknowledge about myself.  Maybe I wasn't doing the right thing, but merely justifying my own actions.  Maybe you felt the way you did because I never supported you enough.  Anything is possible.

Honestly, I don't think it makes two cents worth of difference in the end.  I just want peace.  Peace for both of us.  I know we'll never see eye to eye.  I guess I just wanted you to know that I meant it three years ago when I said, "I forgive you."  In the time afterwards, I developed a lot of hurt.  But I want you to know that I forgive you again.  I'm thankful for the way God has worked.  I'm thankful for the loving, nurturing, blessing people God has placed in my life to move me past so much of all that.  I pray some day he'll bring me all the way through.  I'm looking forward to the future.  In the meantime, may God grant all his best to both of us, even when it hurts like crazy.

TVIMH:  Are you done?

Me:  I think so.

TVIMH:  Then you can show yourself out.

"It won't be the first time," I think to myself.  Opening the door, I turn for just a moment.

Me:  Peace, brother.

Dear Amos

Dear Amos,

Let me respond by telling you a parable.


Once upon a time there were two brothers building a clubhouse.  They were getting along marvelously until the younger brother suggested, "Hey, we should have a window in our clubhouse."

"Clubhouses don't have windows," said the older brother.

"How strange," said the younger brother, "they really should."

"No, they shouldn't!" said the older brother, and punched his younger brother in the mouth.

After several minutes, the younger brother decided to join in the building project again.  He asked, "What makes you think clubhouses shouldn't have windows?"

The older brother handed him a book titled:  Being a Kid.  He opened it and pointed to a page that read, "Every kid ought to enjoy the experience of building a clubhouse." Beside this was a picture of a clubhouse with no windows.  "See!" said the larger boy and then promptly punched the other brother in the mouth.

Wiping a tear from his eye, the younger brother asked, "I see the picture, but that doesn't mean that every clubhouse has to be built without windows does it?"

"Yes it does."  Blam!  This time he drew blood.

The younger brother felt like giving up, but instead he flipped through the pages of the book and found another picture from an earlier chapter that showed a house with windows.  Gingerly, he showed this picture to his older brother and said, "Here's a house with windows."

Thwak!  The older brother smacked him with the back of his hand and blood splattered on the floor from his busted lip.  "That's not a clubhouse! And it's not even in the same chapter!"  He threw a towel to his brother, "Use this to clean yourself up, that lip looks like it hurts.  I probably shouldn't have hit you so hard."

That evening, the younger brother stayed up all night reading the book his brother had shown him.  He couldn't understand why his brother was so determined that clubhouses couldn't have windows.  It didn't make any sense.  He stared at the picture of the clubhouse and noticed that it had a door.  Doors were a lot like windows.  Surely that would make sense to his brother.  He went to slip with an ice pack on his lip.

The next  morning he showed his brother the picture of the door.  He explained how doors are a lot like windows, even if they're not exactly the same.  Both windows and doors can let air in, let sunshine in, keep things from getting so musty and dank and depressing.  Both allowed entry and exit.  Both could be opened and closed.  The spirit of the ideas was the same.  He looked up smiling, sure that his beloved older brother would finally understand that he was trying to help.

His smile was not returned.  The older brother grabbed him and hurled him to the ground.  "They are NOT the same!" the older brother shouted as he landed a kick to the younger brother's kidneys.  "Doors are doors and windows are windows!  If they were the same, they would look exactly the same, work exactly the same and have the same name."  Kick!  "But they don't do they?"  Kick!  "Nobody else in this neighborhood builds clubhouses with windows, do they?"  Kick!  "Mom and Dad's clubhouses didn't have windows, did they?"  Kick!  "The book says we're supposed to build that clubhouse and there's the picture, so that's how we're going to build it!"  Kick, kick!  "And if you don't like it, you can just keep your stupid opinion to yourself!"  The older brother punctuated his final statement with three sharp kicks to the back, before returning breathlessly to his work

The younger brother lay there stunned.  He couldn't think for a long time, all he could think about was how bad everything hurt and why his brother would act like this.  Finally, after several long minutes, he groaned as he spoke.

"A clubhouse."

His older brother looked at him and snarled, "What did you say?"

"It says, 'Every kid should enjoy the experience of building a clubhouse not that clubhouse.'"  He groaned as he spoke, "There's nothing that says we have to build it exactly like that."

A moment of silence hung in the air like a thunder cloud.  Then the older brother was running at the younger, shouting with each stride.

"Why... can't... you... just... shut... UP!"

Concluding his sentence, he launched a kick square in the younger boy's face.  He walked away with blood on his white sneakers.

The younger brother spat out one of his baby teeth and lay quiet for a long time.  With resolve, he finally stood to his feet and faced his brother.  "Now you listen," he said, "this is my back yard as much as it is yours.  You may insist on building this tree house your way, but I don't have to."  The missing tooth gave him a lisp.  "I'm going to build a tree house the way I believe it was meant to be, and I don't care if you like it or not!"

The older boy was on him instantly.  But as he was about to swing, the younger boy raised a piece of lumber from the unfinished tree house to defend himself from his brother's blow.  There was a crunch as his brother's knuckles slammed against the wood.  Shortly following came tears and shouting.

"Why did you do that!?"  The older boy was screaming as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.  "What kind of a person does that to their own brother?  I'm going to tell!"

Head hung low, the younger brother picked up a hammer and some nails and left his brother's clubhouse.



Let me remind you that I never addressed you directly.  I simply described the character of the comments I observed.  But if you feel I'm speaking to you, let me respond as best and lovingly as I am able.


1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9 and 10:  I refer you to the story above.  My words are remarkably kind in comparison to those of the people I responded to.  In your own response, you called the missional mindset "false teaching."  How should a missionally minded person respond to being called a heretic?  I believe in roughly the same standards as you for judging truth (scripture, tradition, reason and experience), and yet we come to clearly different conclusions.  You call people with views like mine false teachers (heretics) and audaciously claim that we are "exchanging the truth of God for trendy lies."  Then you get defensive if we respond with anything other than a grateful hug and repentance for our "unfaithful ways".  That's not the way things work.  If you don't like confrontation, don't be confrontational.

7, 8:  If more people took the time to read the scriptures in context, they would discover that the "Word" or "Word of God" in the New Testament refers almost exclusively (the argument could be made that it is absolutely exclusive) to Jesus and his gospel, not the scriptures in general.  I agree, if we used Jesus (the Word) and his gospel as our standard (which I believe the rest of the New Testament support when understood correctly) more often, we would be in much better shape.  However, in all kindness, who ordained you (or your particular doctrinal adherents) to the position of chief arbiter and judge of all scriptural interpretation?  Especially considering that, historically, you would almost certainly find that significant portions of your "orthodoxy" have been labeled heterodox or heretical by the "church" at previous points in history?

I don't expect you to agree with me.  I really don't.  Six years ago, I might have responded in much the same way.  All I ask is that you afford "missional people" the same rights and respect that you demand for yourself.  That you engage in discussion rather than immediately playing the "false teaching" card.  That you take the time to understand what missional leaders are saying (that means more than simply reading Joe Blatherall's twenty page article on "Why Missional Thinking Is Destroying the Church") before making your judgment.  If you ultimately disagree, I will love you no less.  But don't expect me to be silent.

Why I Just Want to Smack Some Jesus Into Mark Driscoll

Here are a few quotes from the magnificently charming Marky Mark Driscoll.  All of these except the last two are from an article in Relevant Magazine (2007-ish) which I was reading on the Internet Archive Wayback Machine.  I wish I could say I've seen some progress in his attitude... but I haven't.  I honestly think his greatest need is for someone to take him down a notch... or twenty.  It worked for me.  But given his ego and deep-seated sense of self-importance, it would take God himself to do it.

I’ll be happy when we have more than just prom songs to Jesus sung by some effeminate guy on an acoustic guitar offered as mainstream worship music.

This generation can be a whiny bunch of idealists getting together in small groups to complain about megachurches and the religious right rather than doing something.


There is a strong drift toward the hard theological left. Some emergent types [want] to recast Jesus as a limp-wrist hippie in a dress with a lot of product in His hair, who drank decaf and made pithy Zen statements about life while shopping for the perfect pair of shoes. In Revelation, Jesus is a pride fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is a guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up. I fear some are becoming more cultural than Christian, and without a big Jesus who has authority and hates sin as revealed in the Bible, we will have less and less Christians, and more and more confused, spiritually self-righteous blogger critics of Christianity.

You have been told that God is a loving, gracious, merciful, kind, compassionate, wonderful, and good sky fairy who runs a day care in the sky and has a bucket of suckers for everyone because we’re all good people. That is a lie… God looks down and says ‘I hate you, you are my enemy, and I will crush you,’ and we say that is deserved, right and just, and then God says ‘Because of Jesus I will love you and forgive you.


So I decided to start a church, for three reasons. First, I hated going to church and wanted one I liked, so I thought I would just start my own. Second, God had spoken to me in one of those weird charismatic moments and told me to start a church. Third, I am scared of God and try to do what he says.  (Confessions of a Reformission Pastor)


All I can hope is that my friends in church leadership consider following in someone else's example.  But if this is what you consider a Christ-like example... by all means, follow at will.

Bait and Switch Jesus

A week or two ago, a young friend and I were having a chat about life, faith and everything (shout out to Douglas Adams!).  In that discussion, the question of interpretations of the book of Revelation came up.  I have some serious difficulties with many of the "literal" interpretations of this book (I put it in quotes because even the "literal" interpretations resort to symbolism for most of their interpretation, dragonflies become helicopters, a beast is Satan, bowls are metaphors for judgment).

The two biggest problems I have are:

1.)  Such interpretations neglect the genre of literature to which Revelation belongs and the purpose for which apocalyptic literature is used - to communicate a message in vibrant, shocking metaphor.  Gordon Fee and Douglas Stuart's How to Read the Bible Book by Book observes that, "the imagery of apocalyptic is primarily that of fantasy" (p. 429).  Think Lord of the Rings or Star Wars.

2.)  Such interpretations present a bait-and-switch Jesus who gave us a good show during his incarnation of loving and caring for all people; forgiving and reconciling us with God, but then becomes an entirely different Jesus at "the end of time"in the book of Revelation.  A genocidal, mass-murdering Jesus.  A schizophrenic Jesus.  A Jesus who cannot be trusted because he has one too many faces.

It's worth noting that most of us have inherited certain eschatalogical expectations from Revelation because of it's position in the ordered canon.  The scriptures, perhaps even the canon, can be said to be inspired.  The order of presentation is NOT.  The book of Revelation is a letter (series of letters) of exhortation to the church which includes a selection of supporting imagery that points people through mind-boggling, fantastic, sci-fi quality symbolism to the ultimate victory of Jesus over evil.  We shouldn't get so caught up in the imagery that we forget this point.

If Jesus is portrayed in Revelation as the cosmic wrath bearer, mightn't it well be because people needed to know that the crucifixion and their own suffering under persecution wasn't God's last word.  Jesus was indeed the King who would ultimately return in victory.  We should keep in mind how Jesus fulfilled OT prophecy.  The victorious king came as a lowly servant instead of a victorious messianic David.  By the way, that thoroughly hacked off the prevailing Jewish sentiment about the Messiah.  Perhaps our expectations of the final coming could be similarly misplaced.

If in his life on earth (his "tabernacling" with us according to John 1) Jesus was the "image of the invisible God" (Colossians 1:15) and the "exact representation of His nature" (Hebrews 1:3), why in God's name (literally) would we expect him to become something at the end of time that he wasn't in time, during his roughly 33 years with us.

No amount of theologizing about Jesus' first coming being a coming of reconciliation and his second coming one of wrath can justify the kind of deception we have to attribute to God to make the theology square.  The equation just won't balance when the writers of scripture describe him as the image of God and the exact representation of God.  They couldn't have been talking about an image of God that hadn't happened yet.  They were clearly referring to the Jesus who died on the cross for his enemies and with his dying breath prayed, "Father, forgive them for they don't know what they're doing" (Luke 23:34).  And I'm sorry, Jesus driving some animals and people out of the temple with a whip just does not tip the scales enough to validate the bait-and-switch suggested by so many people's bloody interpretation of the end.

God must be true to himself.  Ironic that the letter(s) titled "revelation" (apokalupsis, "uncovering") are so habitually interpreted in contradiction to the clearest revelation God has ever given to humanity (if we rightly understand the Trinity):  himself, in Jesus.