For the Joy of the Journey

The Character of Faith Challenges (part 1)

George August 6, 2019 Faith Challenges 0 Comments

Thoughts on faith challenges in the first half of life.

As I think about my early “faith challenges” it is hard to make sense of them knowing what I now know about faith. My faith was misguided, trusting God to reward my ability and willingness to learn and do what he commanded.

How could such a misguided faith result in so many so many positive outcomes?

Richard Rohr’s book Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life has helped me begin to sort out that conundrum. Some insightful excerpts regarding the first half of life follow:

The first half of life is discovering the script, and the second half is actually writing it and owning it.

…in my opinion, this first-half-of-life task is no more than finding the starting gate. It is merely the warm-up act, not the full journey. It is the raft but not the shore. If you realize that there is a further journey, you might do the warm-up act quite differently, which would better prepare you for what follows. People at any age must know about the whole arc of their life and where it is tending and leading.

The first-half-of-life container, nevertheless, is constructed through impulse controls; traditions; group symbols; family loyalties; basic respect for authority; civil and church laws; and a sense of the goodness, value, and special importance of your country, ethnicity, and religion

Law and tradition seem to be necessary in any spiritual system both to reveal and to limit our basic egocentricity, and to make at least some community, family, and marriage possible.

Considering those ideas and my experience, I would suggest what I consider faith challenges for the first half:

Although I described sin management as a challenge to my faith development, paradoxically sin management is essential to “keeping the raft afloat”, to use Rohr’s metaphor. Awareness/fear of the destructive nature of sin and the practical need to restrain it, can provide a life preserver that will keep one afloat through the early years.

Ideally, sin management would come through reliance on the power of the Holy Spirit rather than self-reliance. No matter what the under lying motivation, every effort must be made to restrain sin.

A practical implication relates to discipling people in their early years, is the need for clear and unequivocal insistence on morally upright lives. That requirement must not be divorced from consistent spiritual guidance that leads to deeper understanding of the nature of sin and and faith that truly manages sin and rejects legalistic law keeping.

MYOPIA

nearsightedness, lack of imagination, foresight, or intellectual insight.

One trait that gives sin a strategic advantage is myopia. The inability to see ultimate consequences of sin makes resistance less likely.

Today’s culture is broadly characterized by impatience, a need for immediate gratification, short term gains, et al. The language of older people betrays the ubiquity of myopia: “If I had only known”… Didn’t see that coming”… “if I could go back”… and so on. Probably the greatest frustration of senior adults is the refusal of young people to look ahead and listen to the voice of experience.

Like myself, many young adults live life like driving a car at breakneck speeds only paying attention the next 50 feet of road. As Rohr says “People at any age must know about the whole arc of their life and where it is tending and leading.”

Spiritual guidance has potential to provide corrective lens for the myopia of youth but the hindsight of mature Christians is 20/20. Developing meaningful intergenerational relationships can go along way in mitigating myopia.

DISENCHANTMENT

The first half of life is discovering the script…

In some recent writings, I contended that: “Living in a disenchanted age is the most significant challenge we face in seeking a relationship with God’. My spiritual heritage is a product of disenchantment and the “faith” of my memoir is its offspring.

Charles Taylor and my favored blogger Richard Beck have provide some understanding of the disenchanted age in which we live.

The default mode for the disenchanted age is reliance on human ability/reason and scientific laws as an ultimate source for answers to the problems of modernity. Utility, efficiency and production are our preimemmant tools to achieve full potential as human beings. Inherently, disenchantment rejects the transcendent. Mystery, fantasy, spirituality, faith, divinity, magic, art, namely, enchantment, is rendered irrelevant. our existence in a disenchanted age is reduced to one dimension, removing depth and meaning and distorting the purpose of our lives. As Beck describes, “When creation is stripped of its holy, sacred and enchanted character …it becomes–material. Raw, disenchanted material. Inert stuff. Piles of particles.”

I believe disenchantment to be the most difficult faith challenge for several reasons.

Disenchantment as defined above is in opposition to the very nature of a transcendent faith. Inherently, disenchantment rejects the transcendent. Mystery, fantasy, spirituality, faith, divinity, magic, art, namely, enchantment, is rendered irrelevant. As an example, athoughtful examination of disenchantment will expose its inherent negative implications to prayer and illustrate its perniciousness.
Disenchantment is the air we breathe. We are so immersed we have very little objective awareness of its threat to our faith. If Rohr is correct that the first half of life is discovering the script, our script will be distorted by disenchantment and leave us ill prepared for the second half of life.
Ironically, the effects of disenchantment have created a vacuum of purpose, meaning and enchantment that provides unprecedented opportunity for the gospel. Accordingly, meeting the faith challenge of disenchantment will depend upon presenting the gospel in a way that fills that vacuum.

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Faith Challenges – A Memoir

George August 6, 2019 Faith Challenges 0 Comments

Recently I was asked about my faith challenges at different stages of my life. What follows is a memoir of my faith struggle in the first part of my life.

The character of faith struggles depends upon our understanding of faith. In my heritage, faith that saved was was trusting that God had graciously sent his son to die for me. I was saved because I had complied with the necessary commands for salvation, i.e. hear believe, repent, confess and be baptized. Once I was saved, the focus of my faith became assuring that I did not lose my salvation. I had faith that my salvation was secure as long as I did not sin or, if I did, ask God for forgiveness. Unforgiven sin was a deal breaker. Getting forgiveness was easy enough, assuming you didn’t die before you could ask forgiveness.

Sin was a big deal. Sins of commission and sins of omission. Accordingly, my faith struggle became one of sin management. The struggle was two fold, on one hand there was the “don’t imperative”, and, on the other hand there was the “do imperative”.

With the “don’t imperative” , my faith challenge was adhering to the “do not” commands of scripture. Because it was understood that keeping all those “do not” commands was not practical, an unwritten list evolved to help manage sin and maintain a Christian reputation. The list was contextual, it’s content and priorities varied according to cultural, geographic and theological realities.

Commonly, it would include: do not …lie, cheat, steal, cuss, drink, chew, smoke, fornicate, masturbate, worship with an instrument, divorce, et al. Of course, there are many other “do not” commands in scripture, but the list needed to contain reasonably manageable sins. Also, many “do not” sins were internal, i.e. pride, envy and so on, and did not lend themselves to management and were less critical in maintaining outward appearance. Also, their private nature avoided the need for public confession and a plea for forgiveness. Though guilt was a constant companion, forgiveness was always handy.

Similarly, there was a “do” list. The do’s are in the category of sins of omission, failure to do as commanded. Not unlike the “do not” list, the “do” list varied. The priority of obedience to God’s commands was dictated by theology and religious tenets. In my heritage, that list might look something like: “Do”: …go to church, …read the Bible, …evangelize, …pray, …take communion, …care for the needy, …wear your Sunday best to church, …be hospitable, et al.

The “do” list established criteria for inclusion. Compliance was not so much needed to maintain salvation as it was necessary for membership and fellowship in the local church. Of course baptism was prerequisite to any level of inclusion. Since is was believed that anyone who was not a member of our fellowship was going to hell, I suppose the do’s were indirectly deal breakers.

Oddly, the “do” list do’s were not lines in the sand. For instance, one could occasionally miss church and maintain their relationship but persistent or protracted absence would bring your faithfulness into question. At some point you would be declared “out of service” and public confession and repentance would be necessary for restoration. It was never exactly clear when one went “out of service”.

Understanding that my faith struggle in my first four +/- decades was primarily about sin management, what follows is a summary of how that played out.

Because my steady girl friend was Presbyterian, we broke up after high school graduation. I wasn’t willing to go to hell for her.
Keenly aware of my sinful habits and friends, I chose to go to a Christian college 1000 miles away to learn to how to better manage my sin. (Also to play football and baseball)
After two years of college and mismanagement of sin, Ann and I got engaged and returned home to get married and live in Alabama.
After getting a job with Ford in Nashville and feeling the guilt of sin mismanagement we resolved our “out of service” status at a local church. A positive step toward improving sin management.
After two years in Nashville, we moved to Louisville. I took a salaried job with Ford and we joined a local congregation. That congregation became our church home for the next 43 years. It was at this point I became serious about sin management.
Because of the influence of the preacher who became my best friend I managed the “do” list with religious fervor. I began to achieve progress on some do’s. Recruited to teach, I became a regular adult Sunday School teacher and was eventually appointed as a deacon. Some years later I was selected as an elder and served for 18 years.
Despite some success with the “do” list, management of the “do not” sins was mostly a struggle, with mediocre success, at best. My failure was most apparent in my job as a supervisor. The contrast between the George at work and the George at church was a painful reminder of my mismanagement of “do not” sins.
Understanding the ultimate peril of failure to manage my sin, I chose to intensify my management efforts and get my life under control. Having decided that my sin problem could not be resolved as long as I continued in my current job, I managed to return to college, get a degree and return to a new job.
The decision to return to college with 4 children and a pregnant wife and no job was the pinnacle of my sin management efforts.
Successfully completing my degree, moving back to Louisville, accepting a new job at Ford and returning to our home church, my faith (sin management) struggle continued.
During the two years to complete my degree there were opportunities and relationships that planted seeds which would bear fruit years later.
For more than a decade my faith challenge remained sin management. I became better at managing “do not” sins and my “faith” was being strengthened.
A turning point in my spiritual journey occurred when serious family issues exposed my sin management faith for what it was, nothing but a rule-keeping system that was alienating me from Christ and, of no value in the midst of unmanageable circumstances.
The transformation that began at that time led me to understand the true meaning of faith and consequently redefined faith challenges for me.

More to come.

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Further Reflections on Lament

George August 6, 2019 Lament 0 Comments

I have continued to ponder lament, especially its place in corporate worship and prayer.

My understanding of lament:

In my words: lament is the natural, intuitive response of all humans to the reality of the brokenness in our world as seen and/or experienced in their lives. I would describe brokenness as anything that is wrong, perceived or otherwise. (I realize ‘wrong” is relative but whether or not it is a legitimate wrong, there will be lament.)

To press the point, if you meet someone who has no capacity to lament, they would be labeled a sociopath. In contrast, I would describe any person who has the capacity to lament as a genuine human being. There is a broader conversation needed about when, where, what, how lament is demonstrated in a wholesome human being. Or in our case, a wholesome Christian. At this point, my conclusion is that lament is a universal human emotional response to real or perceived wrong.

Accepting my conclusion, I would say that for anyone to deny, suppress, ignore or denigrate lament would make them inauthentic and I would not want them as a friend.

I’m looking for a friend who can weep over the death of a friend “Jesus wept”, and cry out “My God, my God why have you forsaken me”.

Here is a quote from Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times,

It was helpful to me.

…Shalom, therefore, does not eschew or diminish the role of the other or the reality of a suffering world. Instead, it embraces the suffering other as an instrumental aspect of well-being. Shalom requires lament.

Lament in the Bible is a liturgical response to the reality of suffering and engages God in the context of pain and trouble. The hope of lament is that God would respond to human suffering that is wholeheartedly communicated through lament.

Why would God expect lament to be a part of our worship?

I do not understand worship so much as a command but, rather an innate response of creature to creator, an encounter with Yahweh, i.e. Isaiah 6

I believe God expects our worship to be authentic, “…true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth…”. Therefore, I suggest that God expects us to be truthful in our worship and to the extent we exclude lament from our worship, (corporate and otherwise) we are inauthentic, I.e untruthful.

If God expects us to trust Him completely, how must he feel when we are reluctant or refuse to lament over real pain and suffering but freely complain about inconveniences? I would not presume to be God, but I might feel like a vending machine. It seems to me lament may be the purest expression of faith. Trusting when there are no answers. Where do we take those questions if not to God?

As a witness of our faith to the world, what could be a more powerful testimony than a people who in their worship make known a God that cares deeply about the pain and suffering that we all have in common, and to whom we are willing to take our unanswerable questions and keep rejoicing?

I resist efforts make lament “a part of our worship” because I suspect characterizing lament as a particular form of worship (ironically, it may be) would lend to the temptation to manage the worship experience i.e. “now we will pause for lament”… “ next month’s prayer session will be devoted to lament” and so on. In effect, rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

I struggle with conceptualizing what the inclusion of lament would look like in corporate worship or corporate prayer. For that reason, I would encourage us to think about our corporate worship as more like a symphony , an expression of all the various “instruments” in a beautiful harmonious composition, rather than a cacophony.

Reimagining worship may be like designing a new automobile. It begins with a usually impractical artist’s conception which is then subjected to rigorous design review and modification by all stakeholders which eventually results in a product that not only honors the artist’s concept but also can be manufactured and used for its intended purpose.

In any case, this is a Pandora’s box and if you open it, the consequences could be serious. For good or ill.

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Good Front Porch Day

George July 16, 2019 Front Porch 1 Comment

Today my front porch has been especially delightful. Early on I was treated to a visit by a beautiful butterfly. An unusual occurrence. She was patient and posed for several pictures.

Early in the afternoon, Three young men from St. Louis on mission in Wilmore (yeah, go figure) came by and I invited them to join me. I think they were hoping I needed Jesus (I do but perhaps not in the way they were anticipating.) Eventually two others joined us and we had great conversation. Ann provided ice water and peach cake for refreshments. I hope they enjoyed the time as much as I did. It’s not often I get to talk with younger men, so today was special.

A short time later Dunsyn, a young man from Nigeria who attends AU took time to chat and get better acquainted. I’m looking forward to more conversations. He is on AU soccer team so I might check out some games this fall.

And best of all, the day is not over.

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Intersections- Lament

George July 8, 2019 Intersections 0 Comments

This post continues a series entitled **intersections**. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but, that’s not how life goes.

In the months that have followed our grandson’s suicide, the subject of lament has dominated much of my thinking. It is reasonable to anticipate an encounter with lament in the midst of such a tragedy. Our grief was saturated with expressions of lament at a depth we had never experienced before. However, my primary motive for continued inquiry comes not so much from experiencing lament, but, the absence of lament.

In a post entitled “Intersections – Grief”, I wrote this paragraph:

Hopeful of some mystical elixir that would heal my grief, I attended church the following Sunday. What I encountered in worship was revealing. I did not experience comfort. The songs and music were offensive. The atmosphere of jubilance was hollow. Instead of feeling the embrace of community, I felt very alone and isolated.

I was deeply disappointed. I needed and hoped to receive solace, but departed with unrequited grief. The worship presentation was not unusual in any discernible way. An ordinary Sunday morning worship experience became inexplicably alien. As always, I was nagged by the question, why?

Perhaps, grief had impacted the chords of my heart in such a way that what had previously been harmonious was suddenly discordant. Certainly the tragic and unexpected circumstances of our grief was unprecedented for us. What I have come to conclude is, that, in fact, that Sunday worship was ordinary. It was worship as expected, even more than expected, required. What became apparent that morning was the prevalence of a culture of celebration. My grief filtered out, what would have, on any other Sunday, been an encouraging, affirming experience. I was left with silence. There was no place for lament that my soul desperately needed.

Those who live in celebration “are concerned with questions of proper management and joyous celebration .” Instead of deliverance, they seek constancy and sustainability. “The well-off do not expect their faith to begin in a cry, but rather, in a song. They do not expect or need intrusion, but they rejoice in stability [and the] durability of a world and social order that have been beneficial to them.” Praise is the language of celebration. Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times

My initial response was to minimize the issue and rationalize the absence of lament. However, as I began to read and study on the subject of lament, I found I was not alone in my concern. Numerous writings by scholars and theologians over centuries of Christian history have grappled with lament and its role in in the faith of the individual and community.

Richard Beck, writing in reference to Emmanuel Kant’s views on lament presents a challenging critique of lament in Christian culture:

If you live with a view of God that guarantees that your faith and virtue will be rewarded then, for Kant, your faith is simply self-interest. Again, virtue cannot exist for Kant if the outcome is guaranteed. If reward and eternal bliss are sure bets, well, can you really be praised for taking a non-existent risk?
This is really a profound critique of much of what is happening in Christian culture. For example, many have lamented (no pun intended) the excessive praise-orientation in much of popular Christian worship. Much of Christianity is triumphalistic. Health and wealth visions of the gospel are also very popular. By being a Christian we can get Our Best Life Now!
We often see these trends as symptoms of superficiality. But Kant’s critique hits harder. It is not just that these forms of Christianity are emotionally shallow. Kant shows that these praise-dominated faith systems are void of all authenticity. For when the links between virtue and happiness are fully in hand faith demands nothing of us. Religion reduces to expressions of human self-interest and selfish calculation. Kant calls this idolatry.
The flip side of the equation is that true authenticity is found in a faith full of lament. It’s not just that lament is emotionally “deeper” or more “real” than the emotions of praise. Rather, lament is expressed in the face of evil, in a world where the links between virtue and happiness have broken down. Thus, to have faith or to act with virtue in a world of lament calls upon something more than self-interest. Faith and virtue have no guarantees in the experience of lament. Thus, for Kant, only faith and virtue expressed from lament are truly authentic.

Thinking about the assertion that “true authenticity is found in a faith full of lament”, I would suggest that what the worship I experienced that Sunday morning was at its core, inauthentic. My conclusion is not a judgement based on the motives or hearts of the participants. Rather, it comes from the reality that many, if not most, of the hearts of those present on any given Sunday are broken or wounded and need to voice their complaint to a God who cares. To the extent that is true, worship without lament will be inauthentic.

If you dwell excessively in the world of Psalm 1 and never live in the world of lament can you be living an authentic Christian life?

I feel if I have only touched the tip of the lament iceberg . More to come.