Since the posting of part 1, there has lots of feedback, positive, negative, and indifferent. I wanted to address a couple of things that have come up before moving on with the series.

First, my friend Dustin, who blogs over here, has decided to make this a genuine dialogue rather than a one-sided diatribe. You might remember him from when he blogged a response to my post on Jonah a while a back. That’s basically what’s going to happen here, except we’ll share thoughts and drafts with each other before each subsequent part, and then post our critique and response at the same time so that people get two biased perspectives rather than one. I welcome this dialogue, and am excited to see how it proceeds.

Second, I got substantial push-back even from people who are on “my side” of the argument about my choice of words and attitude. Most obviously, the contention was with the following phrasing: “I will shamelessly point and laugh as Packer trips over his own feet and falls into his own trap” (regarding the topic of evangelism). A few people lovingly suggested I should change that wording. I’m not going to, for three reasons. First, it’s honest, and I want to be honest with my readers. While reading Packer’s essay, I really did laugh out loud at the evangelistic paragraphs. It’s those passages as much as anything that helped me settle on using the word “absurdity” in the title of my posts – “absurd” being a combination of irrational and comical. Second, it’s already been seen by a bunch of people. I never like redacting history. For better or worse, I said it. You know I said it (if you didn’t, now you do). I’m not going to sheepishly pretend I never said it. Third, because I’m writing about it now, I might as well keep it there for posterity. (That kinda overlaps with the previous point).

Here’s what I’ll admit though: it wasn’t particularly graceful or loving. And it definitely undermined my claimed intent of wanting to promote dialogue and discussion. For that, I need to take a step back and realize that my tactlessness was less than appropriate. If I offended or caused anyone to stumble, I’m sorry.

Lastly, and most importantly, I want to revisit the question of why I’m writing this in the first place. This is really a discussion specific to my church community (so if you’re reading this from elsewhere on the internet, this may not be relevant). I specified that my purpose is destructive and not constructive. I want to maintain a certain level of freedom and fluidity in our community’s theology. We’ve done incredible things as a church for several years without doctrinal issues such as Reformed-vs-not theology coming up at all. But the more we gravitate toward that pole (or any pole), the more constrained our doctrinal focus is, the more importance we place on doctrine, and thus the less importance we place on praxis. Indeed, I believe that doctrine is only a good thing inasmuch as it directly affects praxis. If we, as a church or as individuals, pursue theology to the point that it becomes more important than actively living out the Kingdom of God, then theology – even correct theology – is a bad thing. Furthermore, the particular pole of Reformed theology often brings with it a lot of church structure ideas that I find dangerous and misguided, and fear our church heading down that road. Also, gravitating toward a specific theological pole threatens both to alienate current members who don’t hold that particular belief set (or don’t hold strongly to any particular belief set) and to render the church inaccessible to future members of this same sort. Where would our church be now if it had chosen to be more doctrinally strict two years ago?

All that said, it’s still tough for me to justify this. I’ve been part of a couple of good churches that happen to have Reformed beliefs. New Song Community Church, in nearby Sandtown, has been doing the work of the Kingdom in incredible ways for more than twenty years. If the Garden suddenly or gradually becomes a “Reformed” church, do I think that will prevent us from doing great things for God in the city of Baltimore? No, not really. But I still believe it would be better for us to maintain a lack of doctrinal absolutism in favor of a broad variety of theological viewpoints that are able to be perpetually in discussion and conversation.

Additionally, and I want to be very careful how I write this paragraph…I believe it is never right, in any church, regardless of doctrine, for the pastor to have a monopoly on theology. I believe that it is important for each member of the congregation to be led and taught not only by the pastor, but by small groups, by each other, by books, by blogs, and most importantly by the Holy Spirit. I am not saying this because of any personal problem with our pastor! Please understand that. I love the man and consider him a close friend. But I also regard him as a brother in Christ on equal footing with me. No congregation should blindly accept what its pastor teaches. A good pastor wouldn’t want that; I don’t think our pastor wants that. Again – that doesn’t mean that I think he’s generally wrong. It just means that I want to reserve the right for myself and any of us to disagree with him.

I hope that clarified some things and puts us all in a better position to continue this discussion, on this blog (use the comments section!) and in person.

I grew up in a free-will-believing Southern Baptist church. The ideas of Calvinism, election, predestination, and the like were not refuted – they were simply never brought up at all. Until college, I didn’t know Calvinists really existed, much less made up the seeming majority of protestants.

Then I started dating a Calvinist. Suddenly, I found myself thinking about these theological issues more than ever before – but not being swayed by them. While I have grown out of many aspects of the faith in which I was raised, human free will is not one of them; it has continued to make the most logical and theological sense to me. But I am not ignorant of the scriptural arguments and philosophy behind Calvinism; I simply find them lacking. I wrote a bit about Calvinism on this blog some time ago, in my response to Albert Mohler’s review of “The Shack”. Some of that discussion and criticism will overlap with this post series.

Once this relationship ended and I departed the Reformed church I had been attending, I joined a rather non-denominational church (though of Baptist heritage) and hoped that I would never have to deal with the problem again. If you’ve read my past blog posts, you know I don’t like doctrinal squabbles (or doctrine at all), and generally feel it a waste of time to write in such a vein.

But it seems the Calvinists are taking over; many, if not most, modern popular Christian authors come from the Reformed perspective (i.e., Tim Keller, John Piper, Mark Driscoll), and their voices have seeped into our church and taken us quietly down the path of Calvinistic theology. Given my extremely strong feelings on the subject and my deep love for my church, I can’t sit silently by and let this happen.

I will begin with some confessions to put things into perspective. First and foremost, I have a vitriolic hatred of all things Calvinism. I’m not going to try to disguise that. But I’m going to attempt to write lovingly rather than angrily, as I’m not going to convince anyone of anything by yelling at them.

Second, I will be writing in a strictly and specifically destructive way; I will not be offering (constructing) a particular alternative to Calvinism. I do not feel it is my place to do this, because I do not hold a well-defined code of beliefs. I keep my theology loose, in order to allow the Spirit to lead me to new places whenever I am wrong. Importantly, I am open to being wrong; I think any theology is poor if it claims absoluteness. Saved or not, sanctified or not, we’re all human, and I don’t think any one of us has a complete understanding of God and His purposes, thoughts, and ways. As the prophet Isaiah states, “Who comprehends the mind of the Lord?” (Isaiah 40:13, NET) Certainly not I – yet I press on continually toward deeper understanding. But just because I am not advocating a particular theological paradigm doesn’t mean I have no right to tear down what I feel is a pervasive and egregiously inappropriate one.

Recently, I was presented with J.I. Packer’s Introductory Essay to John Owen’s “The Death of Death in the Death of Christ” as a fairly comprehensive introduction to and defense of Calvinistic theology. It will be pretty important for you to read that before proceeding with my critique, because I’m going to rely on it heavily. I read through it, pencil in hand, underlining curiosities, jotting notes about inconsistencies, and chuckling at absurdities. I then organized my thoughts into six very loose categories. I hope you’ll forgive me if these categories aren’t 100% accurate, but if the worst you take from reading all this is that I did a poor job naming and classifying my objections, I can live with that.

Part 2 will be Discourse Issues, in which I will discuss a couple of problems specific to what is – and, more relevantly, is not – addressed in Packer’s defense of Calvinism, as well as how some things are addressed. Part 3 will be Logical Contradictions, where we’ll explore some places where the dialogue seems at odds with itself or with common sense. Part 4 will be Scriptural Inconsistencies, where we’ll dig into the Bible to bring up all those verses Calvinists have to massage, redefine, and/or ignore. Part 5, everyone’s favorite, will be Evangelistic Doublethink, in which I will shamelessly point and laugh as Packer trips over his own feet and falls into his own trap while trying to make evangelism make sense in a Calvinist context. Part 6 will be Theological Unsavoriness, in which I explain why Calvinist theology is just a generally terrible idea that does exactly the opposite of what it claims to do, stripping God’s sovereignty and Jesus’s life and sacrifice of their power and meaning. Part 7 will wrap up with some Unanswered Questions, in which I will throw out several behind-the-scenes underlying ponderables that Calvinism is ill-equipped to provide satisfactory answers for.

Stick around, folks! This one’s going to get messy.

We work at a hip tex-mex restaurant in the River Oaks/Montrose area of Houston, TX. If you don’t know about this area it is the place to be for nightlife in the fourth largest city in America. So nevertheless the sometimes-hostile environment of being a Christian in the service industry, but also between the bars, nightclubs, and hipster hangouts, a gospel centered relationship is not an easy one to build. But for some reason Michael and a few of my other co-workers feel comfortable talking to me about Christianity, no matter how much they do or don’t know about or agree with the faith. Sometimes the things I say about the Bible confuse them because that is not what they have heard about Christians or seen from the church.

These conversations are very difficult to walk though. I am a pretty open-minded guy and I don’t pretend to be anything that I am not, sometimes to a fault. Being in this place is sometimes hard for my faith because in all honesty I am a skeptic by nature. I have not always been a Christian much less a very good one, but the work that God has been doing in my life is progressive to say the least. All the questions that people throw at me I can field, sometimes with difficulty, sometimes with ease but always with conviction. See it was not very long ago that I was giving the same arguments to myself about Jesus. Trying to excuse my lifestyle by rationalizing my morals and what I believed about believing in “god”.

But last night as I was heading home I really started evaluating what my witness is. Do I offer a good witness to the world as a follower of Christ? What is the reason that people feel comfortable asking me these questions? Why do people enjoy getting into friendly debates with me? Is it because the Holy Spirit is drawing them near or is it because they think I am just a hipster with a cross necklace? Do I look any different to them than the next guy or do they see me as a minister of the gospel of Gods love?

19 For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them. 20 To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law. 21 To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law. 22 To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. 23 I do it all for the sake of the gospel,that I may share with them in its blessings. -1 Corinthians 9:19-23 ESV

How does this look for our lives, testimony, or the building of the Kingdom? How can we become more intentional but less influenced?

The line between looking like a hypocrite and fool is very thin. If your witness is to be just like those you are surrounded by but wear faith like a necklace then your character shows no grace. Grace does not exist so that we may continue on in our old lives. Your testimony then becomes foolish. But at the same time to be so disconnected from the reality of our society and the relationships before us is to ignore the message of Christ. To distance ourselves from the world and continue to live in the arrogance that is our own lives is a masquerade of humility. People are not drawn to either person. Maybe they are but that is how cults get started.

Thanksgiving Litany

Thanksgiving is a time to gather and give thanks for what we often take for granted: food, shelter, clothing, relationships, and community. Let us take a moment to be silent and lift these things before God. Feel free to call them out.

(Silence)

While it is important to give thanks for God’s provision, it is also important to remember and pray for those who struggle to meet their basic needs. Take a minute to be silent before Jesus. Feel free to pray out loud, if you feel led.

(Silence)

The traditional Thanksgiving story is rich with erroneous and mythical information that attempts to cover up the mass extinction and tragic oppression faced by native populations during the colonization of America. I believe that it is important to recognize that the ground we stand on once belonged to the Lenape Tribe, who planted corn, squash, and beans, and were sustained by the Delaware River. The Lenape tribe was forced out of Eastern Pennsylvania, Delaware, and New York, and pushed Westward due to the Indian Removal Act, which was signed into law by President Andrew Jackson in 1830. Today many live in severe poverty in Oklahoma, Kansas, Wisconsin, and Ontario. Take a moment to pray for the Lenape people whose estimated population in 2010 was 16,000.

(Silence)

Now I am going to recite a special prayer offered by former Principal Chief Chief Thomas Strong Swiftwater of the Lenape people of Kansas City at a recent First Nations conference.

Ke-shay-la-min. Oh, Gitshe Manatoo,
Creator. Oh, Great Spirit.
Gut-ta-mak-ton-hay. Kin-knee-ke-nan e-le-nan,
I speak humbly. Watch over us.
Un-gunda-wakan- will-le-knee-o-knee-can.
Give us your blessings.
Wa-knee-shee. Wa-ne-shee. Wa-knee-shee nuka,
Thank you. Thank you, Father,
Wa-knee-shee nu-ka-lay. Gut-mak-ton-nack.
Thank you, Dear Father. I have spoken.

1. The book of Jonah is not historical. Joel took special care to reject this view early in his sermon series, but I remain sympathetic to the idea, as it makes much more sense to me than the alternative. My main reasoning is that, unlike every other book of prophecy in the Old Testament, Jonah is primarily about the prophet himself rather than his prophecy. In fact, the entirety of Jonah’s prophecy merits exactly half of one verse out of the 48 in the book. Contrasted another way, God speaks to Jonah more than through him. (The only comparable minor prophet is Habakkuk, who dialogues with God more than with a nation, yet God still works in an element of genuine prophecy in his responses.) I find it much more likely that the book of Jonah is a story, an Old Testament parable, rather than a literal record of events. But wait, there’s so much detail! And wasn’t Jonah a historical figure? Well, yes…

2. Jonah was a real prophet, but this probably isn’t him. Jonah, son of Amittai, is recorded as being a prophet in 2 Kings 14, during the reign of Jeroboam II. According to the annals, Jeroboam “restored the boundaries of Israel from Lebo Hamath to the Sea of the Arabah, in accordance with the word of the Lord, the God of Israel, spoken through his servant Jonah son of Amittai, the prophet from Gath Hepher.” So, the historical Jonah prophesied about geographical expansion for Israel. Would God use the same prophet for a completely different purpose later, that would not be reported by Israel’s historians? Sure, it’s possible. But there is no Biblical hint, besides the name, that they are the same person. If my first theory holds, it wouldn’t be surprising for a Jewish storyteller to use a character from Israel in his parable. Perhaps it doesn’t fit with certain principles of mythology, but…seriously, a guy lived in a giant fish for three days? Really? Are there even fish that big in the Mediterranean? I believe in miracles, sure, but literary fiction seems like a better fit to me here. So what if Jonah’s not literal? More on that later.

3. Jonah never calls Nineveh to repentance; he actually prophesies against them. Once Jonah begrudgingly acquiesces to God’s purpose for him, he enters Nineveh and delivers the message. But either he does it halfheartedly, or the author didn’t feel the need to record any more detail, because the entirety of Jonah’s message is this: “Forty more days and Nineveh will be overturned.” That’s it. No elaborate oracle like the rest of the prophets. No symbolism, no declaration of woe, no explanation, and certainly no call to repentance. Just a plain vanilla “Hey, you guys are screwed.” And yet, despite that one-sentence doomsaying, Nineveh repents anyway. Top to bottom. Peasants to royalty. Indeed, the king himself issues a decree of repentance, proclaiming the glimmer of hope that Jonah refused to: “Who knows? God may yet relent and with compassion turn from his fierce anger so that we will not perish.” And what do you know, that’s exactly what God does. Turns out, that was His purpose from the beginning…which Jonah suspected, but never made explicit until verse 2 of chapter 4. Now, back to the historicity issue, I believe that God can transform people, and indeed whole cities – but the type of top-to-bottom repentance, with no impetus, is unparalleled. It’s far more likely Hollywood ending than historical event, and there’s another reason to think that as well…

4. Nineveh’s “repentance” didn’t last. Whether or not Jonah is literal, there is little such controversy about the prophetic book of Nahum which takes place 100-200 years after Jonah is purported to. Via Nahum, the Lord has some choice words in broad, sweeping condemnation of Nineveh. Absent  is the God who mercifully offered hope through the sending of Jonah, replaced by a God who is “jealous and avenging” and “maintains His wrath against His enemies”. He call Nineveh “city of blood, full of lies” and states that “I will pelt you with filth, I will treat you with contempt and make you a spectacle.” So much for repentance! The book closes with this ominous decree: “Nothing can heal your wound; your injury is fatal. Everyone who hears the news about you claps his hands at your fall, for who has not felt your endless cruelty?” One argument for the historicity of Jonah is that Jesus refers to Jonah as a historical figure in Matthew 12. I respectfully disagree; none of Jesus’ reference to the symbolism or message of Jonah requires it to be based in literal fact. The most compelling link would be Jesus saying that “The men of Nineveh will stand up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it; for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and now one greater than Jonah is here”. If those men of Nineveh truly repented, it certainly disappeared in a few generations. Now, of course, we can read the history of Israel and see genuine repentance transform into genuine idolatry in quite a short period of time, over and over and over. But again I suggest, Jesus’s words lose no power or merit if the “men of Nineveh” who repented were only part of a story rather than part of history.

5. The story of Jonah is not a prophecy, but a lesson for Israel. Going back to my point that the book of Jonah is not at all focused on prophecy, we must decide what it is focused on. It is clearly centered on Jonah, the person, as he runs from God, is repeatedly saved by God, eventually gives in to God, and then is taught a lesson by God. What is the crux of the story? It is not the transformation of Nineveh, although we can surely look at that. It is not the three-night slumber in the belly of a fish, as children are often taught. It is my belief that Jonah belongs to the category of “bridge texts” that serve as God’s way of preparing Israel for the forthcoming new covenant that will be open to all. In the Old Testament, Israel as a tribe, an ethnic identity, is God’s chosen people, the objects of His affection and protection. But in the New Testament, through Jesus, the doors of Israel swing open for Jews and Gentiles to enter. There are many such bridge texts in the prophets. A beautiful example is in Isaiah 19:19-25; another is Isaiah 66:18-20. Jonah is frustrated that God offered His grace to Nineveh, outside of chosen Israel, well-known for its wickedness. God convinces Jonah that it is simply His nature to care and offer mercy to all people (and beyond – see below). This is the message of the story of Jonah: God doesn’t just care for Israel, His chosen people – He cares for all His people, as He made them all and loves them as His own. And this is a beautiful, invaluable message, whether the story is literal or not.

Irrelevant point 1) What happened to Jonah’s shelter? Read chapter 4 carefully. When Jonah leaves Nineveh, he builds himself a shelter to provide himself with shade. Then the Lord causes a vine to grow, which…provides Jonah with shade. Huh? Then, God causes a worm to eat the vine, taking away Jonah’s shade…but what about the shelter? It’s not mentioned. We’re not told that the desert wind blew it away. It simply disappears.

Irrelevant point 2) “…and many cattle as well.” When God is persuading Jonah that He ought to care about Nineveh, He argues that it has “more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left”, meaning either Nineveh is a haven for the mentally deficient, or He’s only taking account of children, or He’s just making a racist comment to give Jonah a chuckle (probably not the case). Actually, that third option is probably the closest to the truth, except the statement is likely a metaphor for a more general lack of discernment among the Ninevites. But then God also reminds Jonah that the city has “many cattle as well”. So, is God implying that He also cares about the livestock? Well, probably. He is the Creator of all creatures, man and beast, so why wouldn’t He? His eye is on the sparrow, so it’s on the bull and the goat and the sheep as well.

Matt: I think our generation’s “worship music” is usually carefully constructed to elicit emotional response which feels like spiritual response.

Sean: I find this to be strongest with Pentecostals.

Byron: I think one of the bigger issues behind that is that most people have an “emotional attachment” to religion and not a spiritual understanding of worship. I don’t know if it’s necessarily the music per se.

Matt: Great point, which makes me think it’s probably a hybrid of both. Listeners tie themselves emotionally to the music, musicians feed off that and try to produce emotional pieces.

Byron: I don’t know if this is strongest with Pentecostals though. I subscribe as Pentecostal…I see it being more cultural. However it is very interesting. What defines worship though? I would hope the worship does and not the music. I remember reading a story (fictional) about a pastor who would release nitrous oxide through the vents at his congregation. Makes me sad to see the way the outside world views our practices.

Matt: I agree; part of my point was that lots of evangelicals conflate “worship” with “worship music”, and that I prefer to seek more organic expressions of worship, in whatever form they come. Sean “led worship” at house community last night by, instead of leading a song, bringing a blank canvas and inviting everyone to contribute to it with whatever paint or crayon or pencil or other drawing implement as they felt led. That was pretty cool.

Sean: I think that while all senses should be engaged in worship (as the orthodox and Catholics do well) that the sensory elements, music included should be used to enhance the worship experience rather than to define or compel it.

Byron: I a bajillllion percent agree.

Sean: I have a lot of experience in Pentecostal churches. The larger ones I see two things going on. Trying to be too “culturally relevant”, i.e. replacing every secular thing with a Christian alternative. Especially in music. This is brought over to worship. Trying to make it “cool”, ” relevant” and to compete with the world. The other is to stir up a fervor. The problem I have with this is that it creates a culture where that is the only way we see worship. And it compels people, especially youth, to emotional responses that often lead to them going to their 10000th altar call.

Matt: The Church should be transforming the world, not conforming to it. This goes for music too. Why isn’t the Church producing music and art that the secular world then feels compelled to copy?

Sean: 100% agree, Matt.

Byron: I would just be watchful about typecasting or generalizing I guess. Just because you and I feel more comfortable in organic worship doesn’t mean their worship is any less appreciated by God.

Sean: Byron, you’re right. I never once doubted their sincerity in doing it. It’s the worship leaders and those who may or may not cause things that we mentioned.

Byron: I’m sorry you have had a negative view of Pentecostalism, Sean. I see ditches on every side. I see the dangers of charismatics with 1000 altar calls the same as I see the dangers of apathy in others. We must maintain a walk of worship that is straight and narrow and navigate through the ditches of this world. I really love worship and try to teach honest worship as often as possible.

Sean: The key is balance. And as Matt said so well last night, most churches fail there. Most people fail there. I wouldn’t say I have such a negative view. I was a part of it a long time and therefore am more critical of it. I came to Pentecostalism from a Lutheran church. It was a reactionary move for sure. I was seeking out meaningful worship. I grew and had a lot of positive experiences there for sure. What I don’t like is luring kids into “worship” with lights. Drums. Guitars. That rarely prompts deep understanding of what worship is. Mostly it’s a cool Christian concert. “Why go out to a show on Fridays? Jesus can provide the same thing at church. We got all that too!!”

Byron: I led an expository sermon over “How He Loves” by John Mark McMillan. The theological implications of that song are amazing. Yeah it’s catchy and moving, but I think it’s because it is true. The relational aspect of Jesus is what breaks us and heals us. When people actually sat down and meditated on the words, it was like a light bulb went on. I’d hate to say that people need to be taught how to worship. But maybe we do? Not “how”…that seems dogmatic. Maybe “why” and “when”.

Sean: I think rather than how, we need to be taught what worship is.

Matt: I think worship is a discipline, something that requires devotion, and I think too many people engage in “lite” worship that neither enables nor beckons them to be intentional about it. Like you said, Byron…someone could sing a “worship song” a hundred times, but never “get it” till they sit down and study the words!

Byron: I really like a lot of different aspects of worship. I just don’t want to pin one down as “gospel” because I think true worship is honest service to Jesus. And God alone knows our intentions as the Holy Spirit will guide us to wisdom.

Sean: I don’t either. I think many churches do that though.

Byron: Most interesting was going to Circle of Hope and the holistic/hallels and breath prayers. Amazing! But Jesus Culture is pretty awesome too. The reason why is that we serve an awesome God. We worship a lot differently than our brothers in Turkey but that doesn’t make us any more free. That just makes me want to worship even more because God is so good.

Raleigh: I think people do need to be led a little bit. At Circle of Hope, we often have instruction on how people can participate, especially if it is something new or something we haven’t done before. We also introduce songs in foreign languages (we do at least one each week) by explaining that we do this to connect with others. There seems to always be a little explaining. It helps people feel more comfortable and helps them to connect.

Byron: I really enjoyed my time at Circle of Hope too. Not because of the worship, or even Rod’s message, but because of the corporate community we shared through Jesus. And I hope that is in every church across the world. If it’s not, we should pray for it. And yeah, I don’t sing very well in Portuguese.

Matt: Closing thoughts?

Raleigh: I think we need to continue having discussions on worship. Creating “authentic worship” is difficult. I believe that we often over-think or add in (consciously and unconsciously) emotion-inducing elements to worship music, which can be emotionally manipulative. We want to avoid this and let God lead worship. It’s not about putting on a show, but letting God move through us. Worship is a communal act that we all take part in.

Byron: I don’t want to be the one to separate what is secular and what is sacred. I believe this to fall under permissible and beneficial. I listen to a variety of music, mostly Christian to be honest. I know most people hate the concept of Christian music, I don’t believe music can be Christian because music cant be “saved.” But I believe it can be redeemed. I listen to music that edifies my spirit and encourages me and makes me muse on the ways of life. I bet Mogwai would be upset if they find out that I have them on my worship play list right next to Chris Tomlin. We allow so many other things to lead us to sensory emotionalism every day, from music to art to movies and even food, but never do we define those as being anything like we are breaking down worship to be. I don’t think that the reason we have 1000 altar calls is because of lighting or weird time signatures. I think the reason why people do not understand grace is because we have missed on discipleship. I see worship in two parts, congregation and personal. We miss the congregational too often. The reason why worship is difficult to pin down as to being anything set is because it was never meant to be set. Some worship in silence and some worship with hands out stretched. Some do back flips and some lay prostrate soaked in tears. Do I find any of this unbiblical? No. David danced before the Lord naked saying he will be even more undignified in the presence of our King. Totally biblical; would I want to see that in a service? Not really. But if it’s honest and genuine then who am I to judge what is appropriate? Anyway it’s not really my place to say if it is honest or genuine. If the fruit is there, then we celebrate; if not, then God will judge accordingly. Truth of the matter is this. I don’t think it matters if we worship with a light system and e-bows or bongos and goat teeth. Because worship as truly defined is to take part in a religious service and to love someone deeply. The bible defines worship as service or to bow down. Do I think that leaders get this twisted? Of course. But that happens everywhere regardless of our subscriptions, Pentecostal, Reformed, Anabaptist, or Orthodox. When we get swept up in the external activities of worship, we can miss God’s heart which is the reason we worship. I understand emotionalism is prevalent, but I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. I think if we stop there and don’t take it into the homes with fellowship it creates loneliness. We were designed for community just as much as we were designed for worship. I don’t want to put rules on something that is meant to bring us freedom.

Sean: I think that the concept of authentic worship is a challenging one for sure.  Its all too easy for us to get stuck in the “way our church does it” as the “correct” notion of what worship is.  We have to constantly be reminded that worship is an activity that is subjective and personal and should pervade every aspect of our lives as Christians.  And that means that it can take on many different forms.  So I encourage everyone to experiment with different ways of worshiping God and in bringing new experiences to the corporate worship of our churches and to our own daily private worship.

Matt: I love this conversation. I think it is more edifying for us to discuss and share viewpoints than for any one of us to come blog about our individual idea on worship. The Church is made up of different people who worship authentically in different ways. As long as someone is led by the Holy Spirit, however that comes out – in song, dance, meditation, clapping, or any other inward or outward display – that is true worship. No one should feel coerced to worship in one particular way if that’s not true to who they are. The Church should be a place where worship can be expressed in all ways, for the glory of God and the uplifting of all. I pray for all the Church to be revitalized by the Spirit so that their worship will be pure and true.

I think the answer to the first question is…almost obvious. The doors of the Kingdom are open to all; we are not to reject anyone. The wealthy are as welcome as any other sinners. However, we do have to be a bit more careful than that, as Jesus reminds us that “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matt. 19:24) Entering into the alternative community of Heaven requires sacrifice. It is costly.

Another relevant, and challenging, teaching of Jesus comes from an often-misapplied parable in Luke 14:25-33. Jesus is speaking of the costliness of entering the Kingdom, and compares it to building a tower. The lesson here is spiritual, not economic. Before building a tower, you have to make sure you have the money and resources to complete the project. Similarly, before you choose to follow Jesus, you must “calculate the cost” and assess whether you’ll be able to pay it. The “cost” is not subjective or metaphorical. Jesus makes it explicit in verses 27 and 33: “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple,” and “So then, none of you can be My disciple who does not give up all his own possessions.”

Are the wealthy welcome in the Kingdom? Certainly; but their wealth is not. At least, that’s what I’d like to say – but we have to be a little more nuanced there as well. As it turns out, the wealth is welcome, provided that it is entirely detached from those who originally accrued it. Let’s look at how the apostles handled welcoming the wealthy into the Kingdom in Acts 4:32-35:

And the congregation of those who believed were of one heart and soul; and not one claimed that anything belonging to him was his own, but all things were common property to them. And with great power the apostles were giving testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and abundant grace was upon them all. For there was not a needy person among them, for all who were owners of land or houses would sell them and bring the proceeds of the sales and lay them at the apostles’ feet, and they would be distributed to each as any had need.

A lot of wealth was brought into the Kingdom as the Gospel spread to both poor and rich. But nobody brought their wealth intending to retain it (yet — as homework, continue reading into Acts 5). This passage is really, really intense. Imagine being able to speak statements these today! “All things were common property to them.” “There was not a needy person among them.” This is not anarcho-communist idealism. This happened. This was the lifestyle of the first-century church. This is the lifestyle of the Kingdom of God.

In closing, wealth is not something to be embraced, it is something to be repented of. That’s what was happening in the apostolic community. People who were rich recognized that they were being unjust to the poor and sought to make things right by repenting of their wealth and allowing it to be distributed to those who needed it (cf. Zaccheus in Luke 19:8; also see John the Baptist’s concept of “bearing fruit in keeping with repentance” in Luke 3:11). In a community that is operating on God’s economy, no one is wealthy, yet everyone is able to live. In this way, all are wealthy in the root sense of the word.

I have been reading through a few of the posts that were on our old blog site, Sword of Peace, and I must admit that I am quite embarrassed by some of the content. There was so much misplaced and immature passion which was oftentimes judgmental and condescending. I was entering the beginning stages of my faith journey.

Lately I have been asking myself if I am losing my radical edge. I no longer live in a dungeon style basement for $200 a month, I no longer feel the urge to stand in solidarity with people around the world who don’t have water by showering only once a week, I am in graduate school, my wife and I have a combined income that is high enough to almost push us into the middle class, I am no longer a vegetarian, I haven’t thought about dumpster diving in a long time, and I spend more than $30 a month on groceries.

Am I losing my radical edge?

After a lot of thought and reflection, I don’t believe I am. What is happening is that I am becoming grounded. I think I am beginning to understand my place in the world, beginning to understand my strengths, and beginning to understand what I can do with my passion. I am finding that I do not care for debating and arguing these days. I would rather just join up with people who have a desire to serve and get to it. When I was first discovering my faith, I had a consumer mindset. I wanted to consume as much as I could. It was all about me. I was certainly self-righteous and my energies were so misplaced in reading book after book, that I didn’t have any time to live out my faith. Living in a basement and not taking showers is not going to bring about the transformation that God calls us to.

I guess it wasn’t all about myself. I was seeking for an outlet of service, but had no idea where to devote my time. I tried playing music at a homeless shelter on a monthly basis. I did this for 2 years. The problem was that I lived in Philadelphia and the shelter was in Wilmington, DE. This was not my community. I would drive in once a month to play some music, have a quick chat and leave. I became involved in the prisons connections team at Circle of Hope, but I wouldn’t say I was really involved. I attended meetings. Visited someone a few times and wrote a few letters here and there.

Last year I had an extremely difficult time with my faith journey as I was moving away from my naivety. What had I built in the last four years? Anything? I was spiritually depressed for about 9 months straight. This time was extremely difficult for me. St John of the Cross calls this spiritual time the Dark Night of the Soul. He suggests that it is necessary for Christians to go through if they are to develop a mature faith. The romance of discovery spirituality has gone away, is it time to let go of faith, or move deeper into it?

I am glad that I did not abandon my faith during that period. Now, I feel that God has energized me to really be a part of his world redemption project. Lately, I have been doing a lot of listening and waiting, which has allowed me to uncover my strengths. I now know that I have a gift with working with children and adolescents. I am halfway through my school counseling program at Eastern University.

I got connected with Campaign For Nonviolent Schools, a student-run organization that is fighting violence in schools. We have marched down Broad Street and gone to Harrisburg to fight PA budget cuts. Last week we even took a trip to D.C. to rally for Youth Investment. I feel like I am a part of this movement. I have also decided that I want to become more involved with Shalom House. Shalom House is a proactive peacemaking community connected with Circle of Hope. This year, they initiated a listening tour to discover what people are saying about violence in our schools, neighborhoods, and our views on the war in Afghanistan. I am a part of the listening tour team, and hope to listen to what students have to say in the classrooms that I sub in.

My wife and I are trying to live out our faith practically by co-buying a house with another married couple. This is a large step, but we want to ground ourselves in a community and really get to know people around us. We are buying the house from a couple from Circle of Hope who have been a strong presence in the neighborhood for 12 years. We want to continue what they have started. With this there are many considerations and concerns of gentrification as 2 white couples moving into a historically black neighborhood. I will elaborate on this in the future.

I hope I do not appear to be boasting, as this is not my intention. I just want to say that it finally feels good to have a focus. To begin to listen to God and not to aimlessly and self-righeously pursue my own agenda. I used to be fearful of buying a house, going to graduate school, finding a nice job. To me this was selling out. I am beginning to understand that these things can separate us from God, but that we can use these tools to help build God’s kingdom. Co-buying a house opposes American individualism, becoming a school counselor will allow me to interact with hundreds of students and help get the supports they need, and going to school will give me the tools I need to be successful in my vocation. This isn’t the end of my “radical” years, it’s (hopefully) just the beginning.

I haven’t been inspired to write much in the past few years, but I’m feeling so today.

Recently, I’ve been confronted with the word satan in adjective form and I’m wondering if this is a useful word.

When forced to describe it, without much thought, my mind turned to the word nuclear, which is reminiscent of satan in that people’s hyper-sensitivity to the terms are based on a pop-culture depiction of them and not a scientific or scriptural one — even for some that believe in science or scripture as truth providing. Satan is not depicted as evil, but more evil than evil. Not merely supernatural but super-super-natural. Caricatured by some as an idol of the most malicious and avarice beings imaginable. The under world of LOTR captures the grotesque-ness I’m trying to communicate. Anyone who believes in the supernatural ought to dismiss any effects culture has had on educating them on something our culture took and twisted from their own beliefs. Just as anyone who believes in science ought to dismiss the error that nuclear is tantamount to harmful radiation or weaponry.

This error has caused the misnomer (or mis-acronym?) MRI. It is Nuclear Magnetic Resonance Imaging (NMRI) but the “n” was dropped; it was too disconcerting for many to think something nuclear was happening to them. In reality, we are nuclear; filled with billions of nuclei that we rely on for existence. And while we do not rely on satan for existence it is not unusual, at times, to share the mind of one who is going against the will of God. The bible narrative certainly includes some of God’s chosen that have. In my desire to continue developing an understanding, I think it’s helpful to look at these stories.

When Jesus predicts his own death, Peter boldly declares “This will never happen to you!” Jesus’ response is striking to say the least: “Get behind me Satan! You are a stumbling block to me…” At first the response does not seem to follow from what Peter has said. Certainly, if I were telling my closest friend that I were going to die by torturous methods, I would find comfort and care in a response like Peter’s. It seems honorable. But, Jesus is carrying out the most central part of history for those that believe in his death and resurrection. The next thing Jesus says is more revealing: “…you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Apparently it is satanic, according to Jesus, to be disoriented, to try to stifle God’s plan, to prevent the expression of the gospel which is of incomprehensible and irrational love. Notice too that what Peter desires does not appear base and evil. Satanic things often do not. Many translate the word Satan, used here, from the greek to mean “adversary” and that is an appropriate synonym. Few, I would assume, figure that Peter in this story is possessed and possibly not even under the direct influence of any supernatural agency. Satanic here means an attempt to prevent the things of God. Whether it derives from within or outside of us seems the trivial part of the story.

In writing this blog I’ve had a few hindering thoughts, that caused hesitation, such as how weird people will undoubtedly think I am. Those that do not believe in the death and resurrection of Jesus may wonder why I believe in cooky apparitions. And those that do might be offended, or well-read enough to say, “Now, now child. Let me instruct you on your foolish misunderstanding.” While writing about satan isn’t grand or a master plot of God’s, starting a conversation on a matter of spiritual awareness, when compelled, seems to be following the will of God, no matter how small a part. And it is quite small in every regard. But, to be stifled of doing something too small, because of that fact, is a satanic argument. If I don’t do good things because they are not big enough, I may never do good things. If I don’t feed or talk to the homeless man on my street because I cannot fix his homelessness, I may forever neglect to offer a drop of God’s love in a place where I can. This is the “belt of truth buckled around my waist” (Ephesians 6:14). Among others.

Generally, I avoid christian parlance. Its redundancy lulls me to sleep and floats by my mind without triggering a thought. But, that’s precisely why I find the word satanic helpful. It’s not apart of the current idiom. It causes a bit of a jolt. It’s awakening. And I like that.

He is risen indeed.

So…now what?

I am very pleased to announce that this post has been published on Jesus Radicals. You can read and discuss it here.