The Church Should Be Distinctive, Not Relevant

(Michigan flowers)

I'm slow-cooking in Yale University theologian Miroslav Volf's Public Faith. I'm reading what he says about "the relevant church." The culturally blended, relevant church accommodates. Accommodationism is rooted in the fear of irrelevance. Volf writes:

"The accommodation is necessary because otherwise the faith would remain tied to the relics from the past—implausible interpretations of reality and outdated moral convictions—and cease to be compelling to people today. From this perspective, the choice is between accommodation and irrelevance. (Volf, Miroslav. A Public Faith, p. 84).  

Volf argues that liberal Christianity's accommodationist strategy has failed. For two reasons.

1. Contemporary culture is changing at too fast a pace. What is relevant today is irrelevant tomorrow. The popular church names of today lose relevance as the signs are being made. Perhaps we could change the name of our church daily. We could have a changeable street sign, which would be a sign of what God was doing in us at the present moment.  

Volf quotes G.K. Chesterton, who said: “those who marry the spirit of the age will find themselves widows in the next.” (Quoted in Ib.) Pay attention, all ye relevant churches.

2. Christian communities who accommodate to culture to be relevant "are in effect giving up on promoting change," since they "are accommodating to what they have not shaped and are only able to shape in a limited way."

Volf writes:

"Reconstructions of the Christian faith guided by the strategy of accommodation carry in themselves the seeds of possible Christian self-destruction. After they have accommodated, for the most part what remains for Christian communities to do is to appear after a non-Christian show and repeat the performance in their own way for an audience with Christian scruples. The voice of the Christian communities has become a mere echo of a voice that is not their own." (Ib., 85)

Volf cites Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon, who say: “Alas, in leaning over to speak to the modern world, we had fallen in. We had lost the theological resources to resist, lost the resources even to see that there was something worth resisting.” (In Ib.) 

So what shall we do?

3. We should nurture our distinctives. "Christian communities will be able to survive and thrive in contemporary societies only if they attend to their “difference” from surrounding cultures and subcultures. The following principle stands: whoever wants the Christian communities to exist must want their difference from the surrounding culture, not their blending into it. As a consequence, Christian communities must “manage” their identity by actively engaging in “boundary maintenance.” Without boundaries, communities dissolve." (Volf, Miroslav. A Public Faith, p. 81)

The Jesus-community is different from the surrounding culture. Shore up that which is distinctive to Christian culture and strengthen that which is central.

Where Work Finds Its Ultimate Meaning

(Bangkok)

Yale University theologian Miroslav Volf, in A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good, writes about "work." About what we "do for a living." If our work is only defined as what we do "for a living," then our lives are impoverished and, ultimately, meaningless. 

Why work at all?

One reason is: for the flourishing of communities. Volf writes: "When we work for the well-being of communities, our work acquires a richer texture of meaning than when we work just for ourselves. We are then not only self-seeking; we are living for the benefit of others. And as we read in Scripture, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35)." (Kindle Locations 6510652)

This is good, but even this is not enough to give our work and lives their proper meaning. 

Volf states:

"If our own well-being and the well-being of community are all there is to working, would not our working in some sense be like building sandcastles on the seashore? It is meaningful as long as the activity and its results last, but it’s ultimately futile. A tide comes and washes away all the hard work, leaving no trace of it. If there were no more to our work than the benefit to ourselves and our communities, rapacious time would swallow us and the fruits of our labor, and our work would remain ultimately meaningless. Our work can find its ultimate meaning when, in working for ourselves and for community, we work for God." (Kindle Locations 654-659)

What is the relationship of God to our work? Volf makes four points.

1. "God is, in a sense, our employer." Jesus-followers work for God. We serve God, ultimately.
2. "We... think of our work as not just fulfilling God’s commands but achieving God’s purposes in the world." (Kindle Locations 664-665)
3. "In our work we cooperate with God, and that gives meaning to our work." (Kindle Locations 670-671)
4. "Finally, God makes sure that none of what is true, good, and beautiful in our work will be lost." (Kindle Locations 678-679; here Volf sounds Kantian.)

Volf concludes: "The work of each one of us is, then, a small contribution to the grand tapestry of life, which God is weaving as God created the world, is redeeming the world, and will consummate the world. This is the ultimate meaning of our work." (Kindle Locations 685-687)

(Without God, welcome to Camus's myth of Sysyphus, or Bertrand Russell's "foundation of unyielding despair.")

Five Core Convictions of the Christian Faith

River walk path on the River Raisin

In preparation for my Inner Healing classes at Redeemer one of the books I am reading is Yale theologian Miroslav Volf's The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly In a Violent World. For Volf there is a remembering that reenacts and punishes anew, and there is a remembering that transforms and redeems.

For Volf, who has had his share of suffering, he is interested in how we can "remember rightly" so that the end game is redemptive, healing, and reconciling. Memory must be initially framed by his (and my) Christian worldview. I really like how Volf has done this, so I'm quoting it in its entirety.

Volf's five core convictions of the Christian faith are:

1. First, we don't just happen to be in the world as products of chance or necessity; the God of love created each one of us, together with our world.
2. Second, we are not in the world just to fend for ourselves while pursuing suing lives filled with as little pain and as much pleasure as possible; God has created us to live with God and one another in a communion of justice and love.
3. Third, humanity has not been left by itself to deal with the divisive results of our deadly failures to love God and neighbor - a fissure of antagonism and suffering that taints all human history and scars individual lives; in Christ, God entered human history and through his death on the cross unalterably reconciled human beings to God and one another.
4. Fourth, notwithstanding all appearances, rapacious time will not swallow us into nothingness; at the end of history God, who took on our finitude in Jesus Christ, will make our fragile flesh imperishable and restore store true life to the redeemed, so that forever we may enjoy God, and each other in God.
5. Fifth, the irreversibility of time will not chisel the wrongs we have suffered into the unchangeable reality of our past, the evildoer will not ultimately triumph over the victim, and suffering will not have the final word; God will expose the truth about wrongs, condemn each evil deed, and redeem both the repentant perpetrators and their victims, thus reconciling them to God and to each other.

((Kindle Locations 457-465)

The Heart's Resting Place

If material things satisfied us Americans would be the most satisfied people in all of history. But we are a deeply satisfied people who still haven't found what we're looking for. Yale's Miroslav Volf writes:

"More important, almost paradoxically, we remain dissatisfied in the midst of experiencing satisfaction. We compare our “pleasures” to those of others and begin to envy them. The fine new Honda of our modest dreams is a source of dissatisfaction when we see a neighbor’s new Mercedes. But even when we win the game of comparisons—when we park in front of our garage the best model of the most expensive car—our victory is hollow, melancholy. As Gratiano puts it in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, “All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.”" (Miroslav Volf, A Public Faith, How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good, Kindle Locations 1090-1094)

We chase after things and, if we secure them, we're off on yet another chase. We are the never-satisfied people. Volf writes: "Marked as we are by what philosophers call self-transcendence, in our imagination we are always already beyond any state we have reached. Whatever we have, we want more and different things, and when we have climbed to the top, a sense of disappointment clouds the triumph." (Ib., Kindle Locations 1095-1096)

It's not life's failures that disappoint us, but life's successes. The very things we thought would bring us to inner satisfaction do not, once achieved. The sense of disappointment, the hollow victory, the melancholy mood - these are the barren fruit of our human accomplishments. What is the answer to this? Volf writes: 

"Our striving can therefore find proper rest only when we find joy in something infinite. For Christians, this something is God." (Ib., Kindle Locations 1096-1097) The continual-looping achievement-dissatisfaction cycle is why people look for some transcendent something or Someone that can fill the heart's vacuum.

"We feel melancholy because our pleasure is truly human and therefore truly pleasurable only if it has meaning beyond itself. So it is with sex, for instance. No matter how enticing and thrilling it may be, it leaves an aftertaste of dissatisfaction—maybe guilt, but certainly emptiness—if it does not somehow refer beyond itself, if it is not a sacrament of love between human beings. It is similar with many other pleasures." (Ib., Kindle Locations 1098-1101)

Our possessions cry out "More!", and never "Enough!" Read the European existentialists to experience and understand the ultimate barrenness of material goods and accomplishments. (Perhaps begin with Die Verwandlung.)

Volf concludes:

"When we place pleasure at the center of the good life, when we decouple it from the love of God, the ultimate source of meaning, and when we sever it from love of neighbor and hope for a common future, we are left, in the words of Andrew Delbanco, “with no way of organizing desire into a structure of meaning.”[102] And for meaning-making animals as we humans ineradicably are, such desire to satisfy self-contained pleasures will always remain deeply unsatisfying." (Ib., Kindle Locations 1102-1106)

I thank God for his gracious capture of my heart, which forever placed himself as both my great desire and resting place. One has to experience this to believe it.

Evicting the Wrongdoer From the House of Your Heart

Tree canopy, in my back yard

Yale theologian Miroslav Volf writes of his military service in the Yugoslavian army. Volf was a Christian in an atheist, socialist society (in Yugoslavia atheism and socialism were the same). For his faith, he was punished.

Volf was unaware that many of his fellow servicemen were ordered to spy on him. They collected conversations and papers that would indict him of sedition and insurrection. Ultimately he had to appear before the authorities and was accused of being a spy and a traitor.

While not abused physically or sexually, he was tormented psychologically. So much so that years afterward Volf could not get the fearful memories out of his mind. He writes:

"My mind was enslaved by the abuse I had suffered. It was as though Captain G. [his tormentor] had moved into the very household of my mind, ensconced himself right in the middle of its living room, and I had to live with him." (The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly In a Violent World; Kindle Locations 65-67)

Volf's punishers stayed in the living room of his mind and interrogated him again and again. What could he do to finally evict his accusers from the house of his soul?

The answer was: to not allow evil to win. He writes:

"To triumph fully, evil needs two victories, not one. The first victory happens when an evil deed is perpetrated; the second victory, when evil is returned. After the first victory, evil would die if the second victory did not infuse it with new life. In my own situation, I could do nothing about the first victory of evil, but I could prevent the second." (Kindle Locations 91-93)

Evil can be overcome with good (Romans 12:21). This is done by:

• loving the wrongdoer
• forgiving the wrongdoer

This is Core Christianity; viz., "to embrace the heart of the Christian faith is precisely to be pulled beyond the zone of comfort into the risky territory marked by the commitment to love one's enemies." (Kindle Locations 101-102) Without this your abusers will take up permanent residence in the house that is your heart.

Evicting the Wrongdoer From the House of Your Heart

Geese on the River Raisin

Yale theologian Miroslav Volf writes of his military service in the Yugoslavian army. Volf was a Christian in an atheist, socialist society (in Yugoslavia atheism and socialism were the same). For his faith, he was punished.

Volf was unaware that many of his fellow servicemen were ordered to spy on him. They collected conversations and papers that would indict him of sedition and insurrection. Ultimately he had to appear before the authorities and was accused of being a spy and a traitor.

While not abused physically or sexually, he was tormented psychologically. So much so that years afterward Volf could not get the fearful memories out of his mind. He writes:

"My mind was enslaved slaved by the abuse I had suffered. It was as though Captain G. [his tormentor] had moved into the very household of my mind, ensconced himself right in the middle of its living room, and I had to live with him." (The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly In a Violent World; Kindle Locations 65-67)

Volf's punishers stayed in the living room of his mind and interrogated him again and again. What could he do to finally evict his accusers from the house of his soul?

The answer was: to not allow evil to win. He writes:

"To triumph fully, evil needs two victories, not one. The first victory happens when an evil deed is perpetrated; the second victory, when evil is returned. After the first victory, evil would die if the second victory did not infuse it with new life. In my own situation, I could do nothing about the first victory of evil, but I could prevent the second." (Kindle Locations 91-93)

Evil can be overcome with good (Romans 12:21). This is done by:

• loving the wrongdoer
• forgiving the wrongdoer

This is Core Christianity; viz., "to embrace the heart of the Christian faith is precisely to be pulled beyond the zone of comfort into the risky territory marked by the commitment to love one's enemies." (Kindle Locations 101-102) Without this your abusers will take up permanent residence in the house that is your heart.

Living for More Than Our Satisfied Selves

Maumee Bay State Park, Ohio

Is anyone more more perceptive and lucid concerning American culture than Yale University's Miroslav Volf? In A Public Faith Volf writes of the pervasive sea of shallowness the typical American dwells in (including, I think, the typical American Christian). He's worth quoting in full, with no commentary. 

"We live in an age of great conflicts and petty hopes... [T]he idea of flourishing as a human being has shriveled to meaning no more than leading an experientially satisfying life. The sources of satisfaction may vary: power, possessions, love, religion, sex, food, drugs—whatever. What matters most is not the source of satisfaction but the experience of it—my satisfaction. Our satisfied self is our best hope. Not only is this petty, but a dark shadow of disappointment stubbornly follows our obsession with personal satisfaction." (Volf, A Public Faith, How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good, p. 99)

This is spot-on, right? Think of churches where this manifestation of the American Dream forms and shapes how pastors and leaders "do church." Think of the pressure to satisfy people's petty hopes. Hear the clash of worldviews if the Gospel of the Kingdom is preached. 

The "dark shadow of disappointment" comes when, e.g., things like power, sex, and possessions fail to satisfy us, and off we go like animals hungering for more of the same.

Volf, who is a follower of Jesus, continues: "We are meant to live for something larger than our own satisfied selves. Petty hopes generate self-subverting, melancholy experiences." (Ib., 99-100)

***
In my book Praying: Reflections on 40 Years of Solitary Conversations with God I write about hearing and discerning the voice of God. 

Where Satisfaction is Found

Linda with her father Del

It's not life's failures that mostly disappoint us. Rather, it's life's successes that leave us empty and dissatisfied. "Satisfaction," writes Miroslav Volf, "is threatened by the pursuit of pleasure."

Volf writes:

"Almost paradoxically, we remain dissatisfied in the midst of experiencing satisfaction. We compare our “pleasures” to those of others and begin to envy them. The fine new Honda of our modest dreams is a source of dissatisfaction when we see a neighbor’s new Mercedes. But even when we win the game of comparisons—when we park in front of our garage the best model of the most expensive car—our victory is hollow, melancholy. As Gratiano puts it in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, “All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.” First, marked as we are by what philosophers call self-transcendence, in our imagination we are always already beyond any state we have reached. Whatever we have, we want more and different things, and when we have climbed to the top, a sense of disappointment clouds the triumph. Our striving can therefore find proper rest only when we find joy in something infinite. For Christians, this something is God." (Volf, Miroslav, A Public Faith, Kindle Locations 1090-1097)

Hope

                                                (Caribbean Sea - Cancun)

"Hope," writes Miroslav Volf, "is love stretching itself into the future." (Volf, A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Public Good, Kindle location 978)

Hope involves expectation. When I hope, I expect something from the future. And that "something," when it comes to hope, is seen as good. "In our everyday usage, “hope” is, roughly, the expectation of good things that don’t come to us as a matter of course." (Ib.)

Hope is different than optimism. "Optimism has to do with good things in the future that are latent in the past and the present; the future associated with optimism is an unfolding of what is already there. We survey the past and the present, extrapolate about what is likely to happen in the future, and, if the prospects are good, become optimistic." (Kindle Locations 989-991) 

Hope is different. Hope "has to do with good things in the future that come to us from “outside,” from God; the future associated with hope— [Jurgen] Moltmann calls it adventus—is a gift of something new." (Kindle Locations 991-993)

Hope is about a promise, given to us from God. Because God is love, we trust in God's faithfulness. "God then brings about “a new thing”: aged Sarah, barren of womb, gives birth to a son (Gen. 21:1–2; Rom. 4:18–21); the crucified Jesus Christ is raised from the dead (Acts 2:22–36); a mighty Babylon falls and a new Jerusalem comes down from heaven (Rev. 18:1–24; 21:1–5); more generally, the good that seemed impossible becomes not just possible but real." (Kindle Locations 994-996)

Volf writes: "The expectation of good things that come as a gift from God—that is hope. And that is love too, projecting itself into our life and our world’s future. For love always gives gifts and is itself a gift; inversely, every genuine gift is an expression of love. At the heart of the hoped-for future, which comes from the God of love, is the flourishing of individuals, communities, and our whole globe." (Kindle Locations 997-999)

How does a person become a hope-filled person? By living in constant connection to God. Hopelessness is a dis-ease that breeds outside the house of God. But within God's house we live close to the heart and voice of God. This is where we hear and receive the multiform promises of God.

Hope is the emotion, as an orientation of my being, that arises in God's presence where I hear his promises to me and to us.

Hope

Near Wilberforce, Ohio

"Hope," writes Miroslav Volf, "is love stretching itself into the future." (Volf, A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Public Good, Kindle location 978)

Hope is expectation. When I hope, I expect something from the future. And that "something," when it comes to hope, is seen as good. "In our everyday usage, “hope” is, roughly, the expectation of good things that don’t come to us as a matter of course." (Ib.)

Hope is different than optimism. "Optimism has to do with good things in the future that are latent in the past and the present; the future associated with optimism is an unfolding of what is already there. We survey the past and the present, extrapolate about what is likely to happen in the future, and, if the prospects are good, become optimistic." (Kindle Locations 989-991) Hope is different. Hope "has to do with good things in the future that come to us from “outside,” from God; the future associated with hope— [Jurgen] Moltmann calls it adventus—is a gift of something new." (Kindle Locations 991-993)

Hope is about a promise, given to us from God. Because God is love we trust in God's faithfulness. "God then brings about “a new thing”: aged Sarah, barren of womb, gives birth to a son (Gen. 21:1–2; Rom. 4:18–21); the crucified Jesus Christ is raised from the dead (Acts 2:22–36); a mighty Babylon falls and a new Jerusalem comes down from heaven (Rev. 18:1–24; 21:1–5); more generally, the good that seemed impossible becomes not just possible but real." (Kindle Locations 994-996)

Volf writes: "The expectation of good things that come as a gift from God—that is hope. And that is love too, projecting itself into our and our world’s future. For love always gives gifts and is itself a gift; inversely, every genuine gift is an expression of love. At the heart of the hoped-for future, which comes from the God of love, is the flourishing of individuals, communities, and our whole globe." (Kindle Locations 997-999)

How does a person become a hope-filled person? By living a life that constantly connects with God. Hopelessness is a dis-ease that breeds outside the house of God. But within God's house is we live close to the heart and voice of God. This is where we hear and receive the multiform promises of God.

Hope

 

                                                                        (Our grandson Levi)

"Hope," writes Miroslav Volf, "is love stretching itself into the future." (Volf, A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Public Good, Kindle location 978)

Hope is expectation. When I hope, I expect something from the future. And that "something," when it comes to hope, is seen as good. 

"In our everyday usage, “hope” is, roughly, the expectation of good things that don’t come to us as a matter of course." (Ib.)

Hope is different than optimism. 

"Optimism has to do with good things in the future that are latent in the past and the present; the future associated with optimism is an unfolding of what is already there. We survey the past and the present, extrapolate about what is likely to happen in the future, and, if the prospects are good, become optimistic." (Kindle Locations 989-991) 

Hope is different. Hope "has to do with good things in the future that come to us from “outside,” from God; the future associated with hope— [Jurgen] Moltmann calls it adventus—is a gift of something new." (Kindle Locations 991-993)

Hope is about a promise, given to us from God. 

Because God is love, we trust in God's faithfulness. "God then brings about “a new thing”: aged Sarah, barren of womb, gives birth to a son (Gen. 21:1–2; Rom. 4:18–21); the crucified Jesus Christ is raised from the dead (Acts 2:22–36); a mighty Babylon falls and a new Jerusalem comes down from heaven (Rev. 18:1–24; 21:1–5); more generally, the good that seemed impossible becomes not just possible but real." (Kindle Locations 994-996)

Volf writes: 

"The expectation of good things that come as a gift from God—that is hope. And that is love too, projecting itself into our life and our world’s future. For love always gives gifts and is itself a gift; inversely, every genuine gift is an expression of love. At the heart of the hoped-for future, which comes from the God of love, is the flourishing of individuals, communities, and our whole globe." (Kindle Locations 997-999)

How does a person become a hope-filled person? By living in constant connection to God. Hopelessness is a dis-ease that breeds outside the house of God. But within God's house, we live close to the heart and voice of God. This is where we hear and receive the multiform promises of God.

Hope is the emotion, as an orientation of my being, that arises in God's presence, where I hear his promises to me and to us.

In this new year, 2021, increase intimacy with God, and hope will arise in you.

Hope: God Will Make a Way

(Faces - by Gary Wilson)

For those who feel hopeless today: there is hope.

To access the emotion of hope, draw near to God.

Trust in the Lord with your entire being.

Don't waste time trying to figure out the impossible.

Instead, in all you do today, acknowledge Him.

He will lay out the path before you.

Proverbs 3:4-5 (my translation)

"Hope," writes Miroslav Volf, "is love stretching itself into the future." (Volf, A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Public Good, Kindle location 978)

Hope is expectation. When I hope, I expect something and prepare for it. And that "something," when it comes to hope, is seen as good. "In our everyday usage, “hope” is, roughly, the expectation of good things that don’t come to us as a matter of course." (Ib.)

Make your focus today God. Expect the unexpected.

Hope is different than optimism. "Optimism has to do with good things in the future that are latent in the past and the present; the future associated with optimism is an unfolding of what is already there. We survey the past and the present, extrapolate about what is likely to happen in the future, and, if the prospects are good, become optimistic." (Kindle Locations 989-991) 

Hope is different. Hope "has to do with good things in the future that come to us from “outside,” from God; the future associated with hope— [Jurgen] Moltmann calls it adventus—is a gift of something new." (Kindle Locations 991-993; emphasis mine)

Hope is about a promise, given to us from God. 

Because God is love, we trust in God's faithfulness. "God then brings about “a new thing”: aged Sarah, barren of womb, gives birth to a son (Gen. 21:1–2; Rom. 4:18–21); the crucified Jesus Christ is raised from the dead (Acts 2:22–36); a mighty Babylon falls and a new Jerusalem comes down from heaven (Rev. 18:1–24; 21:1–5); more generally, the good that seemed impossible becomes not just possible but real." (Kindle Locations 994-996)

God desires to fulfill His desires in you. God is working all things, all things, together for good, in you, today. Linda and I have much experience with this!

Consider yourself a fruit-bearing branch as you connect with Jesus. Now. Today.

Volf writes: "The expectation of good things that come as a gift from God—that is hope. And that is love too, projecting itself into our life and our world’s future. For love always gives gifts and is itself a gift; inversely, every genuine gift is an expression of love. At the heart of the hoped-for future, which comes from the God of love, is the flourishing of individuals, communities, and our whole globe." (Kindle Locations 997-999; emphasis mine)

How does a person become a hope-filled person? By living in constant connection to God. Hopelessness is a dis-ease that breeds outside the house of God. But within God's house, we live close to the heart and voice of God. This is where we hear and receive the multiform promises of God.

Hope does not dwell in the house of fear. (See Henri Nouwen, Lifesigns, where he distinguished between the "house of faith" and the "house of fear.")

Hope is the emotion, as an orientation of my being, that arises in God's presence, where I hear his promises to me, and to us.

*
My three books are:

Leading the Presence-Driven Church

Praying: Reflections on 40 Years of Solitary Conversations with God

Encounters with the Holy Spirit (co-edited with Janice Trigg)

After a break I'll continue writing Transformation: How God Changes the Human Heart.

Then: Technology and Spiritual Formation.

Then, the Lord willing, Linda and I will write our book on Relationships.

The Distinctive of the Presence-Driven Church

Billboard, in downtown Detroit

My observation is that the students in my MCCC philosophy classes are neither impressed nor lastingly interested in "relevant" churches; viz., churches that spend their money on being, e.g., an Entertainment Church in the middle of our entertainment culture. This, I observe, is not working. There may be Entertainment Churches that are large in size, but what they have gathered is an audience, not a movement. 

For the Jesus Movement to move we must not make it our goal to "blend in." "Blending in" signifies the loss of any movement. What we must do is lock into our distinctives and go with them. 

For example, we have God and God's presence. We have answers to the ultimate questions. We have Christ in us, the hope of glory. That's not bad. And, BTW, the core distinctives cost no money to maintain.

Check out Yale theologian Miroslav Volf's observations about this. Volf writes:

"Christian communities will be able to survive and thrive in contemporary societies only if they attend to their “difference” from surrounding cultures and subcultures. The following principle stands: whoever wants the Christian communities to exist must want their difference from the surrounding culture, not their blending into it. As a consequence, Christian communities must “manage” their identity by actively engaging in “boundary maintenance.” Without boundaries, communities dissolve." (Volf, Miroslav. A Public Faith, p. 81)

The Jesus-community is different from the surrounding culture. Shore up that which is distinctive to Christian culture and strengthen that which is central.

Is Religion Inherently Violent?

Monroe County

Is religion inherently violent? Are religious people more violent than non-religious people? I don't think so. For many of us, myself included, our faith in God and following after Jesus has worked to purge violence out of us. (Still more to come...)

Is atheism inherently violent? I think so. Since if one follows the logic of atheism-as-metaphysical-naturalism, then morality doesn't even exist. As Nietzsche the atheist knew, humans invent morality for their own self-preservation. It is important to know that the greatest moral atrocities of the last century were perpetrated by atheists - see here.

On atheism-as-naturalism there is no place for human free will. To acknowledge this provides incentive for bad behavior. Alfred Mele writes:

"There’s evidence that lowering people’s confidence in the existence of free will increases bad behavior. In one study (Vohs and Schooler 2008), people who read passages in which scientists deny that free will exists are more likely to cheat on a subsequent task. In another experiment (Baumeister et al. 2009), college students presented with a series of sentences denying the existence of free will proceeded to behave more aggressively than a control group: they served larger amounts of spicy salsa to people who said they dislike spicy food, despite being told these people had to eat everything on their plates." (Mele, Free: Why Science Hasn't Disproved Free Will, pp. 4-5. Oxford University Press.)

Growing up, I was not an especially violent child. I didn't get into fights. I've only hit someone once, when I was about eight years old. I hit a kid who was bullying me. I didn't hurt him. But he hurt me, having hit me very hard.

Why are religious people portrayed by some as inherently violent? Miroslav Volf calls this "the self-inflation of the negative, the tendency of the evil to loom larger than the comparatively much more prevalent good." (Volf, A Public Faith, Kindle Locations 946-947) It only takes one cockroach in your food to turn a delicious meal into an abomination. Our media frenzy-feeds off violence and evil. One televangelist who steals people's money spoils them all, in the eyes of irrational people.

Volf writes:

"One can easily show that the majority of Christians (and the majority of religious folks in general) are nonviolent citizens, peace lovers, peacemakers, some even peace activists—and are such precisely out of religious reasons. The purveyors of violence who seek religious legitimation are statistically a small minority among Christians (as they are among other religions as well)." (Ib., Kindle Locations 939-942)

My experience with a few thousand Christian leaders over the past 40 years, as I have been privileged to instruct them and read their spiritual journals, shows me that the vast majority of them are not in ministry to make money; are great servants of other people; are in touch with the violence and rubbish in their own souls; and pray for increased love and compassion towards others.

None of us are perfect. Those of us who follow Jesus are influenced by his nonviolent alternative. To follow Jesus is to have the human heart transformed from violence into peace.

Living for a Fullness That Is Beyond Ourselves

Bangkok

Miroslav Volf's A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good is a beautiful read! Chapter 1 is worth the price of the entire book - on the nature of "prophetic religion," with the double-movement of "ascent" and "descent," both of which are needed, and needed in a certain way. 

In Ch. 2 Volf writes of the meaning of labor, of work. Volf ties work in with the existential matters of life's meaning and purpose. 

"There are many possible ways of construing the meaning of work. One purpose that immediately comes to mind is to put bread on the table—and a car into the garage or an art object into the living room, some may add. 

Put more abstractly, the purpose of work is to take care of the needs of the person who does it... But when we consider taking care of ourselves as the main purpose of work, we unwittingly get stuck on the spinning wheel of dissatisfaction. 

What we possess always lags behind what we desire, and so we become victims of Lewis Carroll’s curse, “Here, you see, it takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place.” 

In our quiet moments, we know that we want our lives to have weight and substance and to grow toward some kind of fullness that lies beyond ourselves. Our own selves, and especially the pleasures of our own selves, are insufficient to give meaning to our lives. When the meaning of work is reduced to the well-being of the working self, the result is a feeling of melancholy and unfulfillment, even in the midst of apparent success." (Kindle Location 639)

The antidote to the "rat race" and boredom of work is to live for "some kind of fullness that lies beyond ourselves."

For example, live for this cause.

Twelve Books I Am Reading this Summer

Here's what I'm reading or already read this summer.

The Faith of Christopher Hitchens: The Restless Soul of the World's Most Notorious Atheist, by Larry Taunton. Linda and I both read this. This is the best book I've read this summer. Beautiful, authentic, inspiring.

The Apologetics of Desire: A Case for the Existence of God from C. S. Lewis's Argument from Desire, by Joe Puckett. I'm in the midst of this book right now. I'm reading it because of a study I'm doing this summer on the nature of desire. My study has been kick-started by the writings of James K. A. Smith, as follows. Puckett's book is very well-written, eminently rational, and helpful.

You Are What You Love: The Spiritual Power of Habit, by James K. A. Smith. Smith is a Pentecostal philosopher teaching at Calvin College (go figure). He is one of the most important voices in theology and philosophical theology today. He's a great writer, and this is a very cool and deep book. Smith is an excellent teacher. Watch how the book goes deeper and deeper until you find yourself in an ocean of ideas.

Desiring the Kingdom (Cultural Liturgies): Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation, by James K. A. Smith. My desire-studies led me to read this. What a book! We are what we desire, what we love, what we worship. And, everyone worships someone or something. Every person is enmeshed in one or more cultural liturgies, largely unconsciously.

Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk In a Digital Age, by Sherry Turkle. Turkle is a professor at M.I.T. She is a brilliant scholar, and this is a phenomenal book. Though not addressing Christians, every pastor and Christian leader should read it. And, to my great delight, her proposal adds support to my phenomenology of spiritual transformation.

Reviving Old Scratch: Demons and the Devil for Doubters and the Disenchanted, by Richard Beck. Another very good book! Greg Boyd says, "Beck helps Christians understand that they need not suspend their doubts about "Old Scratch" to discern his reality in the dark dehumanizing forces that are all around us. Whether you're convinced or doubtful of Satan's existence, this book will inspire you to enter into the age-long spiritual battle that has always been at the center of the Christian faith.""

The Theology of Dallas Willard: Discovering Protoevangelical Faith, by Gary Black. This book is must reading for all who have been deeply influenced by Dallas Willard. The first chapter alone is worth the price of admission. As I read it I wrote in my journal, "Now I have finally identified my place in history."

The Cambridge Handbook of Metaphor and Thought, edited by Raymond Gibbs. My doctoral dissertation was on metaphor theory. I have felt that God is calling me back to this, so I purchased this text of recent scholarly articles that bring me up to speed on recent metaphor studies.

Run With the Horses: The Quest for Life at Its Best, by Eugene Peterson. Linda and I are devouring everything Peterson has written. Bono ("U2") says this is the book that changed him.

The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly In a Violent World, by Miroslav Volf. Volf is another writer I can't get enough of. This book fills out more of the studies I've done on "remembering" as essential to spiritual formation.

Your Church Is Too Small: Why Unity in Christ's Mission Is Vital to the Mission of the Church, by John H. Armstrong. Thank you John for gifting me with your book. I enjoyed meeting with you over coffee. I'm slow-cooking in it, and finding it well-written and important.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X, by Malcolm X. Because I am so blessed to be a professor at Payne Theological Seminary it is my glad duty to constantly read in the area of African American religion and history. Malcolm X's book is required reading.

***

My book, which I have not only read but re-read and revised ad infinitum, is Praying: Reflections on 40 Years of Solitary Conversations with God.

God Is Wrathful Because God Is Love

 

                                                                   (Monroe County)

Yale theologian Miroslav Volf personally witnessed the horrors of the Bosnian war. Out of this context he wrote,

I used to think that wrath was unworthy of God. Isn’t God love? Shouldn’t divine love be beyond wrath? God is love, and God loves every person and every creature. That’s exactly why God is wrathful against some of them. My last resistance to the idea of God’s wrath was a casualty of the war in former Yugoslavia, the region from which I come. According to some estimates, 200,000 people were killed and over 3,000,000 were displaced. My villages and cities were destroyed, my people shelled day in and day out, some of them brutalized beyond imagination, and I could not imagine God not being angry. Or think of Rwanda in the last decade of the past century, where 800,000 people were hacked to death in one hundred days!

​How did God react to the carnage? By doting on the perpetrators in a grandparently fashion? By refusing to condemn the bloodbath but instead affirming the perpetrators basic goodness? Wasn’t God fiercely angry with them? Though I used to complain about the indecency of the idea of God’s wrath, I came to think that I would have to rebel against a God who wasn’t wrathful at the sight of the world’s evil. God isn’t wrathful in spite of being love. God is wrathful because God is love.

 Volf, Free of Charge: Giving and Forgiving in a Culture Stripped of Grace, (Zondervan 2005) pp. 138-139

God Is Wrathful Because God Is Love

                                                                   (Monroe County)

Yale theologian Miroslav Volf personally witnessed the horrors of the Bosnian war. Out of this context he wrote,

I used to think that wrath was unworthy of God. Isn’t God love? Shouldn’t divine love be beyond wrath? God is love, and God loves every person and every creature. That’s exactly why God is wrathful against some of them. My last resistance to the idea of God’s wrath was a casualty of the war in former Yugoslavia, the region from which I come. According to some estimates, 200,000 people were killed and over 3,000,000 were displaced. My villages and cities were destroyed, mypeople shelled day in and day out, some of them brutalized beyond imagination, and I could not imagine God not being angry. Or think of Rwanda in the last decade of the past century, where 800,000 people were hacked to death in one hundred days!

​How did God react to the carnage? By doting on the perpetrators in a grandparently fashion? By refusing to condemn the bloodbath but instead affirming the perpetrators basic goodness? Wasn’t God fiercely angry with them? Though I used to complain about the indecency of the idea of God’s wrath, I came to think that I would have to rebel against a God who wasn’t wrathful at the sight of the world’s evil. God isn’t wrathful in spite of being love. God is wrathful because God is love.

 Volf, Free of Charge: Giving and Forgiving in a Culture Stripped of Grace, (Zondervan 2005) pp. 138-139

As I read this, I thought of H. Richard Niebuhr's famous quote, as he critiqued a soft and shallow theological liberalism.

"A God without wrath

brought men without sin

into a kingdom without judgment

through the ministrations of

a Christ without a cross."

(For more on the love and wrath of God, see Kevin Kinghorn and Stephen Travis, But What About God's Wrath? The Compelling Love Story of Divine Anger.)

Faith Doesn't Need to be Hyped

Astoria Pastry Shop, in Greektown, Detroit

The great Christian thinkers of the past believed that ideas about human flourishing had to jive and sync with ideas about God as the source and goal of all reality. Call this a theocentric approach. This is diametrically opposed to the sadly common strategy of beginning with what you or I want in life, and then creating God in the image of our preferences. Call this an anthropocentric approach.

Yale University's Miroslav Volf shows how the anthropocentric approach is faith-destroying. He writes:

"We cannot start with a preferred account of human flourishing and then construct a picture of God to go with it, designing the fit between God and human flourishing the way we might look for a jacket to match our slacks. We would then be consciously enacting Nietzsche’s devastating critique of the emergence of Christian morality and Christian faith as a whole. According to Nietzsche, Christians designed false beliefs about God in order to legitimize their preferred values. If we were to start with an idea of human flourishing and then “build” God to match our values, then the only difference between Nietzsche’s version and ours would be Nietzsche’s dismissal of those values as being perverse, as opposed to our upholding of them as healthy. More important, by constructing a picture of God so as to fit already given notions of human flourishing, we would be enacting one of the most troubling malfunctions of faith—divesting faith of its own integrity and making it simply an instrument of our own interests and purposes." (Volf, A Public Faith, p. 70).

I'm betting my life on the idea that faith has its own integrity and therefore does not need to by hyped; that the "gospel" is intrinsically good news and does not need a coffee bar or a light show to give it a boost or deflect attention  from its radical claims and responsibilities. (I do like coffee!)