Please Don't Freak Out

I've been reading Peter Enns' fantastic book "The Evolution of Adam". And even though I agree with a lot of his (unorthodox) conclusions about how to approach Scripture, I believe the true worth of this book is his discussion of how other early Christians like Paul and late B.C. Jews read and interpreted their Scripture. (Hint: it wasn't nearly as black & white as we try to impress upon them today; there was a lot of twisting and fitting Scripture to fit arguments and culture).

Couple that with my reading of Matthew Paul Turner's "Our Great Big American God", which is also excellent. This book covers how the ideas & doctrines about who God is and how he acts changed from the first Puritans to step on North America's shore until today.

Both these books need to be read because we all need to realize that interpreting Scripture (and even what is proper orthopraxy) has changed quite a bit. It's often been recycled and it's often ping-ponged. There have been many, many different interpretations of both Scripture and proper orthopraxy since the first century, and all by supposed brilliant theologians. No one can agree.

I think these days we've become more about control up front so as not to pollute the flock. Trying to weed out the tares before they infect the wheat. So we've seen churches require you believe in certain things to become members. I understand the heart of this, I do, but it is pretty short-sighted.

I'm realizing how much of our accepted "orthodoxy" on the Protestant side of things is often just a reaction (subconsciously or strictly emotionally, at times) from a belief another denomination or Catholic/Orthodox church holds. Or our interpretation of Scripture is often affected by our own cultural bias, and our recent history (how we were raised in a certain denomination; I might end up writing a post on how our psychological development also plays a part in this, in what we're drawn to or avoid). As Peter Enns shows in his book, Paul very much does this when he quotes the Old Testament. Often, he uses the quotation in a very different manner than its original context!

It is essential to realize this. Yes, pursue truth. Yes, pursue proper interpretation. But let's dialogue about it. If someone expresses an alternate view of eschatology that you're not familiar with (even if you're the pastor and supposed to be the smartest!) or a view of how to read Genesis 1-3 you're not familiar with, here's what you do: DON'T FREAK OUT!!!

Don't freak out and say, "What? That's heresy!!!" Realize that many of your traditional beliefs were once heresy to the majority. Let's have a dialogue. Let's respect one another and realize that one of the most important things is that the other person is clearly diving into Scripture and pursuing God. I'm pretty sure you can put Jonathan Edwards and Philip Yancey in a room and they'll disagree about nearly everything. Yet, they are both highly influential, well-respected, brilliant theologians.

I recently listened to a sermon given by Bruxy Cavey at Woodland Hills Church (subbing in while the great Greg Boyd was on vacation). He was talking about the Pharisee that asked Jesus "What is the greatest commandment?" Cavey stated that even though the Pharisee asked only for the greatest one, Jesus could not limit Himself to one, but had to include "Love your neighbor as yourself" because it's so much a part of loving God.

So that's what is most important to keep in mind during doctrine discussions. The issue isn't that we disagree, it's that we don't respect one another. And really, we often don't trust God. If we did both, doctrine wouldn't become divisive, but could become something that encourages the church. In every other place in life, disagreement leads to education, deeper thinking, more robust views, and a deeper appreciation of the subject matter. Why can't we have the same respect for Scripture?

Naked Humans & Why God Must (I Think) Exist

I've been thinking about humanity, about how finite we are. I can't get a certain picture out of my head (more below) and the fact that what we all have in common is that none of us knows for sure. That's an odd way to end a sentence. Doesn't know what for sure? Yes. The answer is yes.


Whatever each of us believes, we do it without certainty. If we're honest with ourselves, we can see that. What links us together is the "I'm really not sure, deep down." We're all on the same playing field.


The picture I have in my head is a pale, shivering human. This is us. We're all scared of our death, scared of not being loved, scared of not ever being fully known, etc.


What our beliefs seem to be is a covering, a clothing that we design and sew together for this nakedness. And the more clothed we are, the less we see & remember the shivering human that's beneath it. And thus, the effect of our beliefs are to make us less afraid and more confident. Does that make sense?


What this idea leads to is a thought that what humanity (and ultimately, the Church) really needs is people who are completely honest, not people who just repeat a cliché or a verse - or worse repeat a tenet from your subscribed system of belief. (I'm not saying those are completely bad, just that they are when not paired with honesty). We need to talk more about our fears, our doubts, the reality that we're all scared of death, the reality that the voice we heard probably was our own rather than God's, that we really don't know what's on the other side of life...not for sure, anyway.


I was listening to Derek Webb being interviewed by Shane Blackshear (on the excellent "Seminary Dropout" podcast) and he brought up that he listens primarily to music by people who he felt that he could trust. And that struck me. I realized the music I gravitate towards, the music that leads me toward deeper thinking, the music that engages my emotions all share that quality - I listen because I feel the artist is being honest with him/herself and with me. Sara Groves, Bright Light Bright Light, Sleeping At Last. They all seem to engage their doubt, their darkness, their confusion, their frailty.


So to the second half of the post title: why God must (I think) exist. As I said above, we're all scared of not being loved & not being known. I imagine even primitive humans felt the same way. In fact, I believe animals and plants have some degree of this desire (after all, science has proven that plants grow better with constant conversation and music playing).


Thinking hypothetically, what if there was a person who was marooned on an island? Would the desire to be loved disappear? Because if it's not a product of our community, then that desire has to be intrinsic in us. And I don't see a "survival of the fittest" good reason for that desire. So, in my thinking, it must be product from God.


We all fear loss of love, absence of it. It's terrifying when it happens even to a small degree. The desire is not something that evolved in us. It has to be from God.


So I charge everyone to begin talking more about their doubts, fears, what they really feel deep down. Be honest. We've created a culture where it's not ok to do that. We have to be certain or we're weak, right? In fact, I see it as the opposite as true. And I think Jesus did as well.


We're all naked, shivering humans dealing with the reality that we don't know. Deep down, we don't know for sure. We are all sewing together our beliefs to clothe us. To cover any possible reminder of that fact that we don't know for sure.


I'm not saying beliefs are bad. They are as necessary as anything could be. I'm simply saying don't let the clothes make you lose sight of your ultimate, deep down reality. Because regardless of our beliefs, that's our connection to one another. That's what draws out and produces love.



[Hi, welcome to my blog. I can't say for sure that this'll be more than a one off, but we'll see. I had aspirations as a writer since I was little, but haven't written anything in years, so I thought a blog might ease the jittery feeling that builds into an earthquake when I shirk my desire to create over and over for other things. What I most likely will write, like today, will probably be full of holes in logic, messy prose, confusion-inducing thought processes, and I'll be wrong a lot. That's ok. After all, that's pretty much the title of my blog. The mess is inescapable. Paradoxes are necessary. The remind us that none of us is better than our neighbor. Thanks for reading.]