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About Christopher J Wiles

Hey there. My name's Chris. I'm a teaching pastor at Tri-State Fellowship, and a research writer for Docent Research Group. Thanks for stopping by; be sure to stay connected by subscribing to blog updates and more.

Why character surpasses professionalism (1 Timothy 3)

(Note – This is a post that was supposed to have been put up on 5/18, but did not get sent. We are putting it out there to have in our collection of devotionals and themes in our library of such.)

What makes a great leader?  It’s probably tempting to think of a leader in terms of their accomplishments or their skill set.  It’s about metrics; it’s about performance.  But it’s not the case for everyone.

Some years ago Jim Collins published a famous book on leadership called Good to Great.  He found that the CEO’s and great leaders of the business world were rarely great visionary leaders. Usually they were quiet, humble men who found something they were good at—and kept on doing it.

In a way, it’s not terribly different for Christian leadership.  Paul, writing to the young pastor Timothy, clarifies that leadership isn’t driven by performance, but by character.  He does this by listing the qualifications for elders as well as deacons.

THE QUALIFICATIONS FOR ELDERS

First, Paul addresses the “office of overseer,” which we might broadly see as referring to the shepherds of the Church—the “elder-level” positions we looked at earlier including elders, pastors, and bishops.

The saying is trustworthy: If anyone aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a noble task. 2 Therefore an overseer must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, 3 not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. 4 He must manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive, 5 for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church? 6 He must not be a recent convert, or he may become puffed up with conceit and fall into the condemnation of the devil. 7 Moreover, he must be well thought of by outsiders, so that he may not fall into disgrace, into a snare of the devil. (1 Timothy 3:1-7)

When we look through this list, we don’t find a lengthy set of job skills.  What we find is an ethical portrait of a leader.  God’s leaders are not meant to be “professional;” they are meant to be Godly.  So this list has more to do with a leader’s heart than what a leader achieves.  The only actual skill listed, in fact, is the ability to teach (v. 2), but even that might look different in, say, children’s ministry versus high school youth group versus a Sunday sermon.

THE QUALIFICATIONS FOR DEACONS

Paul lists a similar set of moral characteristics for those serving in the church more broadly—that is, the deacons:

8 Deacons likewise must be dignified, not double-tongued, not addicted to much wine, not greedy for dishonest gain. 9 They must hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. 10 And let them also be tested first; then let them serve as deacons if they prove themselves blameless. 11 Their wives likewise must be dignified, not slanderers, but sober-minded, faithful in all things. 12 Let deacons each be the husband of one wife, managing their children and their own households well. 13 For those who serve well as deacons gain a good standing for themselves and also great confidence in the faith that is in Christ Jesus. (1 Timothy 3:8-13)

Now, at Tri-State Fellowship we don’t have men and women who bear the title of “deacon.”  But we have many people who serve in lay leadership as high school youth leaders, children’s ministry volunteers, serving in our hospitality team, musicians for our Sunday service, not to mention the wide variety of volunteers for outreach projects, etc.  We might see different levels of expectations for such diverse positions, but it’s our greater hope that we see all leaders of the church reflect the character of the Son.

WHY CHARACTER STILL COUNTS

Here’s where the rubber meets the road.  Every year we ask the members of Tri-State Fellowship to “affirm” our elders.  This is not a performance review.  What we do is we hand out a ballot with a list of our elders on it.  Members may either vote “yes” or “no” as to whether they affirm our elder board.  Why might you vote “no?”  Well, again, it’s tempting to evaluate Christian leaders based on their accomplishments.  But as we’ve just seen, God is more interested in Godliness than professionalism. If you knew that one of our elders was involved in something shady—an affair, an addiction, any sort of unrepentant sin—then this would be a reason to vote “no.”  In other cases, we might vote “no” if we see elders whose households and families are in disarray—and we recognize their greater responsibility toward their own household.

One of the hardest things about this is understanding how we can evaluate people as being “blameless” as Paul says in verse 10.  Who among us is blameless?  The answer, of course, is no one.  The gospel isn’t about being perfect, but it’s about allowing ourselves to be shaped as we continue our journey of faith.  Being “blameless” isn’t about perfection—though it is about maturity.

This is a helpful remedy for those who have been the recipients (or even victims) of unhealthy, ungodly leadership.  Moral character is necessary not because we’re raising an organization of professionals, but because the church, the body of Christ, is a living breathing organism.  The health of the body depends on the health of all its members.  Where sin exists, dis-order flourishes.

All of this means that one of the greatest ways to honor and serve church leaders—not just pastors, but everyone who serves the church—is through prayer.  And I don’t mean praying for shorter sermons, but praying that our leaders would lean into the grace of God rather than their own understanding, that they measure themselves not by the opinion of those they serve (which can be damaging), but according to the grace of God alone.

 

Leaders equip, not perform (Ephesians 4:11-14)

What’s a pastor do all day?  I mean, c’mon, the guy works an hour a week, right? Some years ago, Thom Rainer—current head of Lifeway, the company behind the local Christian bookstore—asked 12 of his church deacons to list the responsibilities they expect a pastor to accomplish in a typical work week.  Here’s what the landed on:

  • Prayer at the church: 14 hours
  • Sermon preparation: 18 hours
  • Outreach and evangelism: 10 hours
  • Counseling: 10 hours
  • Hospital and home visits: 15 hours
  • Administrative functions: 18 hours
  • Community involvement: 5 hours
  • Denominational involvement: 5 hours
  • Church meetings: 5 hours
  • Worship services/preaching: 4 hours
  • Other: 10 hours

Add the total up, and it comes out to 114 hours per week.  Assuming your pastor takes a day off, that means his typical day starts at 19 hours long.  I guess it’s too bad that sleeping didn’t make the list.

We laugh, but the truth is there’s a lot expected of pastors and leaders.  If we survey the list, we don’t find that any of these activities are unreasonable expectations.  And in some ways the allotted time might not be terribly unreasonable.  But no one man can accomplish all of this.  If he did, then he’d soon find himself spiritually, emotionally, and physically exhausted.  Thankfully, the body of Christ is served best by a plurality of leaders.

A PLURALITY OF LEADERS

In his letter to the church at Ephesus, Paul writes that Jesus descended to earth to offer salvation, but then in the body of Christ we find many leaders with many gifts.  He starts by saying:

11And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, (Ephesians 4:11)

So Paul names 4-5 separate job titles here.  Let’s unpack them a bit.

  • Apostles are said to the foundation of the church (see Ephesians 2:20, 3:5). The authority of an apostle could come in three ways: (a) having been with Christ, which included the 12 (including Matthias, who replaced Judas – see Acts 1:21-22), (b) having been appointed by Christ, which was the case for Paul (1 Corinthians 15:8-9, Galatians 1:1, 2:6-9) and (c) having been recognized as apostles by the early church.  This category includes such prominent Biblical figures as James (1 Corinthians 15:7, Galatians 1:19), Barnabas (Acts 14:4, 1 Corinthians 9:6) as well as others.  This third category was typically recognized as having the gift of apostleship, though it is worth mention that they were not regarded on the same as the twelve and Paul, who had experienced Christ directly either through His earthly ministry or, in Paul’s case, through a vision (Acts 9).  Nonetheless, by this time the term “apostle” had come to mean anyone who carried the gospel message with God’s authority.  Apostle most likely meant, “One sent as an authoritative delegate.”
  • Prophets in the New Testament were a bit different than those in the Old Testament. Their role, according to 1 Corinthians 14:3, was to provide edification, exhortation and comfort, and may have revealed God’s will prior to the completion of the Biblical canon.  Prophets are not often spoken of following the first century, primarily because those believers viewed the apostles as foundational to the church.
  • “Evangelist” refers to anyone who spread the gospel, and in many ways the term is analogous to the modern day term “missionary.”
  • & (5) Pastors and teachers are traditionally viewed together. In fact, in the Greek, Paul lists each position with the article “the” in front of it (“the apostles, the prophets…”) but uses the article “the” before the phrase “pastors and teachers,” grouping them together.  These terms most likely refer to those who ministered to congregations, as opposed to apostles and evangelists who lived itinerant lifestyles in the spread of the gospel.  In all likelihood, the terms “pastor” and “teacher”, though not synonymous, refers to the dual role of the same person (i.e., a minister must both shepherd his flock as well as instruct them).

But we should probably not see this as an exhaustive list.  I think what we might see are three broad levels of leadership within the church:

  • Elder-level leaders

These would include everyone bearing the title of “elder,” but also would include “pastors” and “bishops.”  In his famous work on eldership, Alexander Strauch summarizes this role:

“Elders lead the church [1 Tim 5:17; Titus 1:7; 1 Peter 5:1–2], teach and preach the Word [1 Timothy 3:2; 2 Timothy 4:2; Titus 1:9], protect the church from false teachers [Acts 20:17, 28–31], exhort and admonish the saints in sound doctrine [1 Timothy 4:13; 2 Timothy 3:13–17; Titus 1:9], visit the sick and pray [James 5:14; Acts 6:4], and judge doctrinal issues [Acts 15:6]. In biblical terminology, elders shepherd, oversee, lead, and care for the local church.”[1]

Biblically, I don’t know that you can make a strong case for a distinction between “elder” and “pastor.”  But what we might see is that pastors fulfill their role in a very specific way within the church.  Likewise, we might find “bishops” who oversee the pastors and provide accountability and guidance.  Now, we might not use the word “bishop” in our denomination, but much of this function is fulfilled by our denomination as a whole and our superintendents in particular.  It’s always tragic when we see a church built around a leader where there is no denomination and no accountability.  We should be thankful for denominations and for oversight.

  • Deacon-level leaders

If you recall from Acts 6, the role of “deacon” was introduced as a way to ensure that the immediate needs of the community were met and that pastors were not pre-occupied with waiting on tables and that sort of thing.

I’m using the term a bit more broadly to refer to those leadership positions that are not at the level of elder.  We might see this as volunteers within the church, whether this includes our youth leaders, our children’s ministry workers or our greeters.  They are all important, and contribute to the body.

  • Missionaries

Finally, we have our missionaries.  It might be tempting to forget that they play such a vital role in the church, especially since so many of them serve in overseas.  But these important men and women serve the body by fulfilling the Church’s mission outside the walls.  We are therefore thankful for our missionaries—both locally as well as globally—and what they do for the body.

EQUIPPERS, NOT PERFORMERS

Finally, we must read Paul carefully now to see what he says about the role of church leaders

11And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, 12to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, 14so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. (Ephesians 4:11-14)

It’s tempting to think of leaders as hired hands who do what they are paid to do.  If the church is only an organization, then this model would make sense.  But the church is an organization but also an organism—the body of Christ.  Therefore the church is not a program you attend but a community to embody.  No one “goes” to church; if you follow Jesus, you are the church.  Leaders therefore aren’t performing the work of the ministry.  They are equipping others so that we can share in the work of the ministry.

 

[1] Alexander Strauch, Biblical Eldership, p. 16.

In the mood to be led? (1 Corinthians 1:10-17)

Leadership can be a tricky thing—especially for those who are asked to follow.  In NBC’s hit sitcom The Office, the characters had differing reactions to the search for a new office manager.  Ryan Howard, the former temp, had high expectations for the new boss:

“I got away with everything under the last boss and it wasn’t good for me. So I want guidance. I want leadership. Lead me… when I’m in the mood to be led.”

Ryan’s sentiments resound with the kind of ambivalence we have toward those in leadership.  We know it’s good for us, but we also want to make sure our leaders do what we think is best.

Paul was dealing with something like that in the church at Corinth.

10 I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment. 11 For it has been reported to me by Chloe’s people that there is quarreling among you, my brothers. 12 What I mean is that each one of you says, “I follow Paul,” or “I follow Apollos,” or “I follow Cephas,” or “I follow Christ.” 13 Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? 14 I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, 15 so that no one may say that you were baptized in my name. 16 (I did baptize also the household of Stephanas. Beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.) 17 For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power. (1 Corinthians 1:10-17)

Basically the church was being split by their competing loyalties.  It was becoming fashionable to identify not with Christianity in general, but with favorite teachers in particular.  Even those who “follow Christ” show a disdain for the God-given authority bestowed on the early apostles.

LEADERSHIP IN THE OLD TESTAMENT

To fully understand this, we have to understand the ways that leadership was changing in the early church.

In the Old Testament, we might look to Moses as sort of the model of Godly leadership.  He served in many capacities—sometimes even unofficially.  He served as prophet by brining God’s word to Israel and Pharaoh (Exodus 3—11).   He served as judge by hearing Israel’s complaints (Numbers 27:1-4).  He led the nation from Egypt (Exodus 12:31—15:21).  He ran military campaigns (Exodus 17:8-16).  He officiated at the first Passover (Exodus 12).

After the law was established, many of these roles became even more organized in a series of prophets and priests and judges and later, kings. True, priests had existed before this time, but it was now that the priests were performing their duties in a localized spot—most notably Israel’s temple.

Jesus changed all that.  Remember when he cleared the money-changers from the temple?  Jesus told them, “do not make my Father’s house a house of trade… Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” (John 2:16, 19).  And John helpfully adds, “he was speaking about the temple of his body” (John 2:21).  Then, in the upper room, before his death, Jesus tells his disciples that “In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” (John 14:2).  Now, it’s natural to connect this verse to the promise of heaven, but in John’s gospel “my Father’s house” had previously referred to the “temple of his body.”  So Jesus is also saying that his death secures our place in the body of Christ.

Therefore the temple system—with all its priests, etc.—has been replaced by the body of Christ.  This is a source of great joy, because it gives us free and direct access to God.  But apparently it also gives rise to some confusion regarding leadership—both then and now.

THE RETURN OF CHARISMATIC AUTHORITY

Actually, we might point out that even in non-Jewish religions there was a movement away from temples and toward individuals.  Peter Brown writes:

“Previously the classical world had tended to think of its religion in terms of things.  Ancient religion had revolved around great temples…the gods had spoken impersonally at their oracle-sites; their ceremonies assumed a life in which the community, the city, dwarfed the individual, as a ‘man of power,’ came to dwarf the traditional communities….In the popular imagination, the emergence of the holy man at the expense of the temple marks the end of the classical world.”[1]

What Brown is talking about is a shift in authority.  Max Weber, the 20th century sociologist of religion, spoke of authority in three capacities.  Traditional authority comes from a ruler, a king, or even a holy book, like the Bible.  Rational-legal authority derives from human reason or the government of the state. But charismatic authority comes from the power of the individual.  In the ancient days, as we’ve said, there was a tendency to gather around a favorite leader.  But now, I wager, we’re seeing a return of charismatic authority—especially when it comes to spirituality.  Whose voice do we listen to on matters of faith?  Chances are, we’re less interested in their specific credentials; we’re now pleased by how many Twitter followers they have.  In Ross Douthat’s recent book Bad Religion, he quotes a recent analyst who says:

“A half-century ago, an American Christian seeking assistance could have turned to the popularizing works of serious religious thinkers…Those writers were steeped in philosophy and the theological traditions of their faiths, which they brought to bear on the vital spiritual concerns of ordinary believers…But intellectual figures like these have disappeared from the American landscape and have been replaced by half-educated evangelical gurus who either publish vacant, cheery self-help books or are politically motivated.” [2]

WHY LEADERSHIP?

Paul lived in an age where people chose their leaders based on preference–when they were “in the mood to be led.”  And so do we.  But Paul understood that the solution was not social, but theological.  We need leadership within our church (including shared leadership, which we’ll get to later) because the sheer diversity of people and ideas demands structure and guidance.

Let’s admit that this doesn’t always go well—sometimes even tragically.  Leaders fail.  Some even become abusive to members of their congregation, including the most vulnerable.  That should rightly sicken us.  But this is no reason to jettison our commitments to Christian community including its leaders.  In the days ahead we’ll look at some of the layers of leadership within the church, and what that means for each of us.

 

[1] Peter Brown, The World of Late Antiquity: A.D. 150-750, p. 102-3

[2] Mark Lilla, cited by Ross Douthat, Bad Religion, p. 177

A place at the table: Who is worthy of communion?

Fact: I’ve only once eaten at the “kids’” table on Thanksgiving.

I was also a freshman in college.

There’s always something weird about being seated where you feel you don’t belong.  I rarely eat in restaurants alone, but being single occasionally it becomes necessary.  A few years ago I was traveling alone and ended up eating dinner in a relatively nice restaurant.  They proceeded to usher me to the center table.  As in, the table in the middle of the restaurant. As in, the table where passersby could gawk at the peculiar single man eating alone with no one there to tell him that he has food stuck to his face and then wonder if the food stuck to his face was even from the same meal because, hey, maybe he ate lunch alone too and hasn’t been near a mirror.

That sort of table.

A few years ago everyone was talking about the movie The Blind Side, the true story of how Michael Oher came under the care of Leigh Anne Tuohy—played by Sandra Bullock.  I remember being struck at how many scenes took place around a table: the dinner table, the same table while studying, every scene seeming to underscore Oher’s new position not just on the football field, but as a member of the Tuohy family.

That’s what communion does for us.  This is a meal reminding us that we are welcome at the king’s table.  Paul discusses the importance of this meal with the church in the city of Corinth.  Though the meal’s primary purpose is to re-tell the story of salvation, the meal also serves to unite us and remind us who we are and who we are meant to be.

COMMUNION UNITES THE CHURCH

First, Paul emphasizes the unifying element of the Lord’s Table:

16 The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? 17 Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. (1 Corinthians 10:16-17)

Sharing this common meal together reminds us of our place in a larger community of believers.  I’m told of other people taking communion alone, as part of their devotional life.  There’s nothing wrong with this, of course, but the greater blessing is to be a part of the larger church community.  This is why—for the earliest churches—communion was the primary focus of their gatherings.  More than the sermon or music or anything else, the communion table serves as the climax of the service.  We should probably see it as ironic, then, that the one thing Jesus commanded his followers to do is the one thing we’re guilty of treating as optional.  The communion table is meant to be a regular part of our body life.  It unites us to Jesus by uniting us to his body, the Church.

COMMUNION HELPS US TELL GOD’S STORY FROM NOW TO THE SECOND COMING

Second, Paul sees the practice of communion as enduring from the time of Jesus’ death until the time of Jesus’ return.  He even quotes Jesus, saying:

23 For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”  25 In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)

Because communion is a means of re-telling the story of the gospel, every time we take this meal together we remind ourselves that yes, we once were deserving of God’s justice, but Christ took our place and now we share a place at the Father’s table.  And one day we will enjoy this table fellowship not merely symbolically, but in some great “marriage supper of the Lamb” (Revelation 19:6).

If you’ve ever been in a wedding, then you know that the night before the wedding party typically gathers to review what’s going to be happening in the official ceremony.  And usually, the party joins together to enjoy a “rehearsal dinner.”  This usually isn’t as special as the meal at the actual wedding, but it’s usually a memorable time full of anticipation.

In one very real sense, the communion table is the rehearsal dinner for the church—a way of rehearsing what our new life will look like when Jesus returns to establish perfect justice in his restored creation.

WHO IS WORTHY?

But Paul now takes a slightly darker turn in his letter:

27 Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord. 28 Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. 29 For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself. 30 That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died.  31 But if we judged ourselves truly, we would not be judged. 32 But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world. (1 Corinthians 11:27-32)

Apparently, Paul was dealing with folks who were treating the communion meal as their personal dinner table if not some sort of party.  But it seems to be broader than that.  He cautions against those who take communion in an “unworthy manner,” and even suggests dire consequences for those who fail to heed this warning.

What does it mean to be “unworthy?”  It seems to refer to those who seem totally out of step with the sacrificial death of Jesus.  And I think it really comes down to taking our sin too lightly.  We can do that in two different ways:

  • The first way is to simply ignore our sin. We approach the table without genuinely having repented, brushing aside the darkness of our hearts as inconsequential or simply a “mistake.”  For some, this might even mean ignoring the social dimension of sin.  Jesus commands us to “leave our gift at the altar” and go and be reconciled to one another before entering worship (Matthew 5:24).  To ignore these things or treat them as optional is to take the bread and cup in an unworthy manner.
  • The second way is far more subtle. When I was younger, the “unworthy manner” verse was always trotted out as a prod to get us to really   The motive was good, but it provoked an unhealthy perspective toward sin.  It meant that before you went to the table, you sat there and catalogued all the bad things you did, and you better be really sorry you did that stuff and then you can go to the table.  Right?  The whole thing smacks of an attitude that says that I make myself worthy of the Lord’s Table.  And that’s utter nonsense, but when we think of repentance only as a feeling of being really, really sorry, we have approached the table in an unworthy manner.

So…what’s the alternative?  The opposite of taking communion in an “unworthy manner” is not—repeat, not—that we are ever worthy of coming to the table.  No; we come to the table because Jesus is worthy and we sit at the King’s table only by the grace of his invitation.

This means that this table is for you.  No matter who you are, Jesus invites you to His Father’s table.  No matter if you’re a sinner or saint, this table is for you.  It’s for those who struggle with ongoing sin.  It’s for those who struggle with their own sense of pride.  It’s at this table that Jesus invites us to repent of both our self-indulgence as well as our self-righteousness.  This table is about casting aside our devotion to sin and self and falling face-first on the mercy of God alone.

We need that.  We started this week by suggesting that rituals help define who we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re going.

There’s a good chance that you look back at your past accomplishments and beam with pride.  You see yourself as put together and accomplished and your future is bright.  This table reminds you—perhaps painfully so—that your identity will not be found in your achievements, but only in the achievement of Jesus.  The table—like the gospel message itself—challenges our sense of superiority and bends our twisted hearts back open to love God and neighbor.

There’s a good chance that you look back at your past experiences and cringe with shame.  For some it’s the wrongs you have done, for others it’s the wrongs committed against you.  You see yourself as broken and worthless, and your future seems dim if you think of it at all.  This table reminds you that your identity will not be found in failure but only in the Savior who took your place on the cross, to pay for your sin as well as to experience the effects of sin, namely pain and humiliation and death.  This table—like the gospel message itself—challenges our sense of inferiority and lifts our gaze from our past to God’s glorious future.

This table is for all of us who place their trust in the accomplishments of Jesus.  It prompts reverence, yes, but also joy.  And it reminds us all that in Jesus, we all find a place at the table.

Candles in the cake: Communion and the story of God

I have two different short stories for you.  They differ only by the length of a single sentence.  Don’t blink, or you’ll miss them.  Ready?  Here’s the first one:

Last night I went to my friend’s house.  They served cake.

Easy enough?  Here’s the second:

Last night I went to my friend’s house.  They served cake.  There were candles in the cake.

Chances are, you read the first story without your mind supplying a tremendous amount of detail.  You might have imagined a dinner party or something as simple as coffee and dessert (or tea, for those of us sophisticated enough to avoid coffee).

But the second story was probably quite different.  The inclusion of “candles in the cake” changed the whole story.  Now you’re picturing balloons, streamers, colorfully-wrapped presents. If you’re a parent, you might also be picturing pointy hats, noisemakers, and a stream of bratty kids that you’re thankful aren’t yours.

The stories above illustrate the simple yet fundamental relationships between symbols and rituals.  The “candles in the cake” are a symbol that instantly connects us to a larger cultural narrative: a birthday party.  And so our minds instantly fill in the gaps.  We can even visualize the types of rituals that accompany the symbols: singing to the guest of honor, watching him or her blow out the candles, and so on.

We’re talking now about communion.  It’s something of a “dinner party,” I guess—or at least Jesus began it as one.  But what kind of dinner party?  When Jesus inaugurated the ritual of the Lord’s Table, it was at one of the most famous of Jewish celebrations known as Passover:

Then came the day of Unleavened Bread, on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed. So Jesus sent Peter and John, saying, “Go and prepare the Passover for us, that we may eat it.” (Luke 22:7-8)

Here’s what we need to understand: “unleavened bread” meant as much to them as “candles in the cake mean to us.”  By that I mean that those words evoke the images of a whole series of symbols and rituals deeply embedded in Jewish culture.  It’s likely that even Luke’s non-Jewish readers would have understood at least the basics of Passover.

So when we talk about Communion, we need to make sure we recognize this ritual as embedded in a much larger story.

THE FIRST EXODUS

Even if you’ve never been to church, you might know the story of the exodus from the old Charlton Heston film. On the night that Israel would be released from captivity, each family was to mark their doorways with the blood of a goat or lamb.  The idea, of course, was that God would “pass over” that house in his plague against Egypt’s firstborn.  The meal the family shared that evening would be Passover meal.jpgrepeated in the years after as a reminder of what the Lord had done for his people.  Passover therefore became “a memorial day,” and the nation of Israel was commanded to “keep it as a feast to the Lord…as a statute forever” (Exodus 12:14).

The point, of course, was that every element of the Passover meal was meant to testify to what they had endured and the price paid for their freedom.  We can name a few:

  • Lamb: to represent the blood shed at their release
  • Unleavened bread: containing no yeast, because their deliverance would happen so quickly they had no time to wait for the bread to rise.
  • Bitter herbs: the flavor meant to remind them of the bitterness of their former slavery.
  • Eating while reclining: because in that time, this was the posture of freed peoples.

So while this is certainly removed from the traditions of our modern birthday parties, we can see how Jesus’ last meal with his disciples was saturated in symbolic meaning and historic tradition.

THE NEW EXODUS

But Communion, as we said, is part of our act of “playing make-believe.”  New Testament scholar Scot McKnight suggests that Jesus’ last meal was “a Passover-like meal the night before the Passover meal.”

14 And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him. 15 And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. 16 For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”  17 And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves.18 For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”  19 And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 20 And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. (Luke 22:14-20)

McKnight writes that Jesus is indeed re-telling the story of the exodus here with his disciples:

“During the meal, Jesus interprets the bread…and wine as his body and his blood….Jesus is asking his followers to participate in his death.  But rather than dying with them on the cross, he asks that they merely ingest bread and wine to identify themselves in the story of Jesus and so learn to participate in his death by faith.”[1]

Jesus is therefore announcing a new exodus, a new release not from the captivity of a tyrannical power, but from the enslaving powers of sin, Satan, and death.

Communion meal.jpgWe are commanded, quite plainly, to celebrate this meal together, as a sort of re-telling of this great story.  Communion is therefore analogous to Passover, only this time we are heading steadily for the time when all of human history is consummated at Christ’s return, and Christ’s followers celebrate the “wedding supper of the Lamb” (Revelation 19:6).

This ritual therefore tells us something about who we are and where we’ve been as well as where we’re going:

Passover Communion
Who we are God’s chosen nation God’s adopted sons
Where we’ve been Egyptian slavery In the bondage of sin
Where we’re going God’s promised land Resurrected into God’s restored creation

So we gather as a church to remember what’s behind us, as well as to celebrate the glorious future ahead of us.

The bread reminds us that Jesus was broken that we might be made whole.  The cup (grape juice, in our case, just to avoid issues with alcohol) reminds us that when God’s holiness rightly demanded our blood, God offers his own.

The Communion meal is therefore not something we take casually, but something we take joyously as we recognize our own place in God’s story.

 

[1] Scot McKnight, A Community Called Atonement, p. 84.

Who gets baptized?

“You’ve come a long way, baby.”  These were the first words from the mouth of Dr. Jeffery Bingham as he began our second semester of Church history while I was a student in seminary.  We have, as he repeatedly emphasized, come a long way from the time of Jesus and the time of the early church.  And in the two thousand years between the world of the New Testament and our own, many traditions have come and gone and diverged into many different branches.

Given that our series is called Why Church?, it may be helpful to think through the ways in which our practices are embedded in a larger historical framework.  More specifically, we might find ourselves wondering why so many churches practice so many different forms of baptism.  After all, if I was so confident yesterday that baptism is a symbol for believers, why do some churches baptize babies?

Let’s do our best to give a brief survey of how baptism has been handled in church tradition:Baptism history

  • Baptism washes away original sin. We shouldn’t neglect the fact that many adults were baptized in the early church.  But soon enough the church started baptizing babies.  Why?  Augustine, in roughly 400 AD, put forth an understanding that baptism was the means by which the “stain” of our original sin was removed.  This interpretation stuck around for a very long time, and baptism (among several other practices) became known as a “sacrament” by which God’s divine grace was experienced.  In 1517, the Church became split into what we now know as Protestant and Roman Catholic theology, a reformation that began with Martin Luther.  Though many of us associate Luther with salvation by faith alone, Luther would agree with the Church’s position that baptism washes away the stain of original sin.  The difference, however, was that Luther said that baptism only counted if and only if the child later grew up to express a faith of his own.
  • Baptism provides entrance into the believing, covenant community. One of Luther’s contemporaries, Ulrich Zwingli, pushed beyond these beliefs.  Zwingli thought that perhaps baptism should be seen as analogous to circumcision in the Old Testament.  It wasn’t really about washing away sin, but more about being initiated into the believing community.  Reformed theology would later weave this into their confessional documents.  There is, in the reformed view, a covenant of works and a covenant of grace.  In the Old Testament, the entrance into the covenant of grace was through circumcision.  So, too, do believers today enter into the covenant of grace through baptism.  Support may be found in 1 Corinthians 10:2 which speaks of being “baptized into Moses.”  But when we examine this verse alongside the practices described in the book of Acts, it’s hard to see this practice supported by the earliest New Testament believers.  I admit that I have a lot of respect for this view, and there are many that I count as friends who hold to this view.  But as I was reading the explanation from Richard Pratt from Reformed Seminary in Orlando, I was struck by just how heavily he leaned on documents such as the Westminster Confession rather than the pages of Scripture.  Don’t misunderstand, I respect Dr. Pratt immensely, but here is a case where I don’t know that Church tradition supersedes what I see as a clear practice in Scripture.
  • Baptism confers salvation. Some emphasize the teachings of the New Testament that call for a life of radical obedience to the teachings of Christ.  “Faith without works is dead,” James tells us (James 2:20).  So, some say, baptism is necessary for salvation, because what good is faith without direct obedience?  Positively, we have to admire the attempt to re-unify salvation with the practice of baptism.  But negatively, we might object that this teaches a salvation based on performance rather than grace alone—the kind of “gospel” that Paul railed against in his letter to the Galatians in the strongest terms possible.
  • Baptism identifies you with Christ and his Church. This, of course, is the view that I’ve been arguing for.  In yesterday’s post, we looked through a handful of passages that illustrated that in the world of the New Testament, baptism was uniformly practiced (1) as an outward symbol of salvation, (2) only for believers, and (3) normally practiced by immersion.

But notice something about our diagram.  The baptism of children is motivated by looking backward toward the past (symbolized by the backward arrow).  To baptize a baby is to perform a ritual based on either the faith of the family or the tradition of the Church.  To baptize an adult, however, is to look at the way the believer seeks to “play make-believe”—that is, to express what their faith looks like as they begin their journey with Christ.

BAPTISM: DEFINED

We might therefore define baptism as an outward sign of personal faith.  This seems to be the basic meaning Paul speaks of in Romans 6:

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.  (Romans 6:3-5)

Granted, burial practices weren’t the same in Paul’s day as they are in ours, so we probably shouldn’t stress the external symbolism too heavily.  But the early church would very likely have understood the general idea of descent and ascent—burial and resurrection—that symbolizes the way that we die to ourselves and are raised to new life in Christ.

Baptism therefore symbolizes our own response to the gospel message:

  • Baptism symbolizes our own repentance and choice to commit to following Jesus
  • Baptism identifies us with Christ
  • Baptism identifies us with Christ’s Church

UNDERSTANDING THE SYMBOL

The “classic” illustration of this is, of course, the wedding ring.  If you wear a wedding ring, what does that mean to you?  If you are married, does taking off your wedding ring alter your relationship with your husband or wife? (actually, if you do this on a business trip, it very well might…)  Likewise, if you give your wedding ring to someone else, does it mean you’re now married to them?

The illustration is clear enough: a wedding ring is a powerful and important symbol of a new relationship and a new way of life.  But, in the end, it is only a symbol.

Our obedience to Christ’s clear command to be baptized should therefore not be construed as a requirement of salvation.  But we must likewise not neglect the history and significance to this symbolic exchange.

WHO SHOULD BE BAPTIZED?

Part of the reason I wanted to offer a cursory survey of the historical views of baptism is because I suspect that some of you have already been baptized in other Church traditions.  Does this mean you should be baptized again?

Here’s what I would tell you.  If you were baptized as an infant, then you have been (or rather, your family had been) perfectly obedient to your Church tradition.  But I cannot agree with your Church tradition.  If you are unpersuaded by our presentation of believer’s baptism, then I obviously can’t ask for a re-baptism.  But if you are newly convinced that baptism is for believers, then by all means, we would welcome you to express your faith through public baptism.

 

 

The history and development of baptism

Where did baptism come from?  Who was the first to practice it?  The answer to this question is a bit elusive.  It’s likely that many ancient religions practiced something like baptism, though it wouldn’t be until the days of the early church that we see the word “baptism” emerge as a uniquely Christian practice.  So what are its origins?  How did it develop?

BAPTISM IN THE OLD TESTAMENT

While other ancient cultures had their own ceremonial rites, Israel’s worship was unique in every way.  You might already remember that Israel’s religion was expressed in a series of laws governing the categories of “clean” and “unclean,” symbolically reflecting the purity of God’s character.  Something of this might be in view when Ezekiel describes the formation of God’s relationship with Israel:

8 “When I passed by you again and saw you, behold, you were at the age for love, and I spread the corner of my garment over you and covered your nakedness; I made my vow to you and entered into a covenant with you, declares the Lord God, and you became mine. 9 Then I bathed you with water and washed off your blood from you and anointed you with oil. (Ezekiel 16:8-9)

Some point to various sorts of “precursors” to baptism in the Old Testament—even the apostle Peter would draw some loose connection between baptism and Noah’s flood.  In another setting, Elisha instructs a leper to wash himself by dipping his body into the Jordan river seven times—purifying him of this disease (2 Kings 5:1-14).  So we might find some “hints” of what baptism might look like in the future.

But the clearest examples of regular purification rituals comes from the system of Levite priests.  The book of Leviticus even specifies purification routines centered around the great “Day of Atonement:”

He shall put on the holy linen coat and shall have the linen undergarment on his body, and he shall tie the linen sash around his waist, and wear the linen turban; these are the holy garments. He shall bathe his body in water and then put them on. (Leviticus 16:4)

23 “Then Aaron shall come into the tent of meeting and shall take off the linen garments that he put on when he went into the Holy Place and shall leave them there. 24 And he shall bathe his body in water in a holy place and put on his garments and come out and offer his burnt offering and the burnt offering of the people and make atonement for himself and for the people. (Leviticus 16:23-24)

Priests were often “sequestered” for a week prior to this event in order to minimize the risk of any sort of contamination.

JOHN THE BAPTIST

Jesus was famously baptized by his cousin, John the Baptist:

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15 But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him;17 and behold, a voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:13-17)

What’s going on here?  John the Baptist was a born a preacher’s kid, but it’s speculated that when his father passed away John would end up spending his time with a group of desert people called the “Essenes.”  These folks were the hippies of the ancient world, dwelling in caves in the wilderness as a form of separation from the Roman establishment.  Yet when John returns from the wilderness, he doesn’t seem to have adopted their practices as much as reinvented them.  So John is introducing a new form of baptism, which in some way involves a new form of repentance.  Given John’s role as the “forerunner” for Jesus, it’s as if his baptism is a way of saying, “Come and be baptized as we enter into the age of the Messiah.”  So it seems as if John’s baptism had a lot more to do with identification with Jesus’ initial movement.  And we should notice that John would say that his baptism was very different from the actual ministry of Jesus, saying:

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. (Matthew 3:11)

John seems to have envisioned Jesus as having a unique ministry in the future, and it’s this ministry that helps us clarify baptism today.

IN THE AGE OF THE CHURCH

After the resurrection, Jesus gathered his closest followers to issue the “marching orders” of the Church.  The purpose of all God’s people is worship, but the Church is now commanded to gather others together that we might all worship God in spirit and in truth.  So when Jesus tells his followers to share the good news, he includes instructions to perform baptisms:

19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

Baptism is not optional.  This practice is commanded by Jesus himself.  In the pages of the book of Acts, we find Jesus’ followers obeying this command.  We can draw three conclusions based on their practice:

  • Baptism symbolizes salvation

Whenever we see baptism performed, we see it performed as a symbol of a declaration of faith.  To be clear, baptism is never described apart from a personal, faith commitment.  Salvation therefore doesn’t come from baptism, but baptism is a sign of obedience.  But what we also see in the New Testament is that baptism immediately followed conversion.  For example, in Acts 2 Peter’s sermon brought thousands to Christ:

41 So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls. (Acts 2:41)

Some English translations say “those who believed.”  Baptism comes only after a faith commitment.  Likewise, in Philip’s ministry:

12 But when they believed Philip as he preached good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women.  (Acts 8:12)

Again, baptism comes only after a faith commitment.  And in the most famous of Philip’s stories, he shares the good news with a spiritual outsider.  A high-ranking eunuch is riding a chariot and reading a portion of the Bible.  Now, in those days people would often read out loud, so Philip—having been guided by the Lord—overheard him.  After a brief conversation, it became clear that the eunuch was spiritually curious, but didn’t understand that the scriptures he was reading were about Jesus:

35 Then Philip opened his mouth, and beginning with this Scripture he told him the good news about Jesus. 36 And as they were going along the road they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?”  38 And he commanded the chariot to stop, and they both went down into the water, Philip and the eunuch, and he baptized him.  (Acts 8:35-36, 38)

Once more, it’s hard to imagine this scene as anything other than a public profession of personal faith.  And apparently the early church agreed, because some later manuscripts would include the addition: “And Philip said, “If you believe with all your heart, you may.” And he answered and said, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God” (included in some Bibles as Acts 8:37).  Granted, this verses is an addition, and not original to the Bible, but it shows that many in the early church did agree that baptism was merely an outward symbol.

  • Baptism is therefore reserved for believers

This conclusion follows from the previous principle.  If baptism symbolizes salvation, then of course the only ones being baptized would be believers.

But this wouldn’t necessarily only be adult believers.  While we can find no explicit reference to a child being baptized, we do find the Bible describing baptism applied to whole households:

30 Then he brought them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” 31 And they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” 32 And they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. 33 And he took them the same hour of the night and washed their wounds; and he was baptized at once, he and all his family. 34 Then he brought them up into his house and set food before them. And he rejoiced along with his entire household that he had believed in God. (Acts 16:30-34)

Admittedly this seems confusing to us since we see faith as something so deeply personal.  What should probably see here is that the entire household placed their faith in Jesus, and the whole household was baptized as a way of expressing that.  This, I think, helps us make sense of this passage in light of the others.  What I don’t think we should see, however, is evidence suggesting infant baptism.  So while children may believe in the gospel, baptism might not be for the very young.  The normative expression in the New Testament seems to be the baptism of believers.

  • Baptism is usually performed by immersion

Even the Greek verb baptizo means “to immerse” or “to submerge” or even “to drown.”  In the New Testament baptism was performed by being placed under the water.  It wasn’t until later when the early church put together a collection of documents known as the Didache, or the “Teaching(s).”  This resource clarified that if water was scarce, it was acceptable to pour water on the convert’s head and this would be sufficient for baptism.  Again, baptism usually came so quickly after conversion that they just wouldn’t wait until they found a body of water.

I know many conservative folks who would object to this, since baptism is meant to be immersion.  I don’t know that I’d join them in their objection.  If baptism is a symbol, then I’d say that while immersion would be the ideal, if someone came up on Sunday morning and wanted to be baptized right there on the spot, that a Styrofoam cup full of water would be insufficient to make that happen.  It sounds silly, but the public declaration is what matters more than the ritual itself.

But this also highlights the deeper meaning behind baptism, which we will return to tomorrow.  For now, I’d simply challenge those of you who claim to follow Christ yet haven’t been baptized to think about what it is you’re waiting for.  This isn’t a salvation issue, but it is a matter of obedience.  If you want to sign up for baptism, contact myself or one of us on the Church staff, and we’d love to be a part of that declaration of faith.

Why ritual: Learning to play make-believe

So I’ve noticed something recently.  More than in the past, weddings have become occasions for the bride and groom to inject their own distinct personalities into the wedding ceremony—and I mean that in the very best way possible.  Couples will often put extra thought and care into making the ceremony mirror the uniqueness of their relationship, even while retaining the more “traditional” elements we’re all used to seeing.

In fact, of the handful of weddings that I’ve performed in the past five years or so, nearly every couple included some additional “ritual” in the midst of the proceedings.  So while they’ve exchanged rings and said their vows, they’ve also done something else, something creative, as a way of illustrating what their marriage will be like in the future.  So, for instance, some couples do a “cord of three strands,” in which they braid three cords together to symbolize the way that husband, wife, and Jesus are now being woven into a unified, God-honoring relationship.  As another example, a couple poured two vials of colored sand together into a common vase—illustrating the way that two halves have now combined to form a whole.

Weddings are already laden with symbols and rituals.  Believe it or not, there’s actually a whole field of study devoted to symbols (it’s called “semiotics” if you want to sound smart at parties).  Experts in this field tell us that there are two broad categories of symbols: summarizing symbols and elaborating symbols—though for clarity it might be helpful for us to think about these things a different way.  There are some symbols and rituals that tell a story.  At a wedding, the exchange of rings is a storytelling ritual, because the ring testifies to the story of marriage.  But what about the “cord of three strands” or the sand art?  These are symbols that help us “play make believe.”  When a couple weaves together those cords, they’re playing make believe—the ritual serving to help them understand what marriage will look like in the future.

And that’s beautiful.

CLASH OF SYMBOLS

Christianity is full of symbols and rituals.  If that sounds like a weird way to describe your faith, just visit another church some Sunday.  You may very well find that this other congregation is used to a slightly different set of rituals and a different set of symbols.  I can remember a story a friend told me of a Church that every Sunday would turn around, face the rear of the sanctuary, and then recite one of the Church’s creeds (a “creed” is an official statement of faith).  Why face backwards? he wondered, but when he asked no one seemed to know.  He would later learn that when the church had first started, they placed the text of the creed on the wall at the rear of the sanctuary; the congregation would turn and face rear so they could read the words.  When enough people had it memorized, they took the words down.  But people kept standing up and facing backwards, and soon the ritual stuck.  And that’s…well, that’s kinda weird, honestly.

Rituals are something of a subset of worship.  Emile Durkheim—the father of what we know as “sociology”—famously defined religion as “the effervescence of the collective.”  It’s a fun phrase, really; it refers to the behavior that happens when people gather in groups.  So if you’re at a baseball game, and the crowd next to you starts “the wave,” you better keep it going, right?  Or think of the music they play to get the crowd to yell out “Charge!”  These are all rituals—we might even do them without even thinking.

Why RitualThe Church practices a variety of rituals like this—and, maybe we even do these without thinking (!).  Some of our rituals are storytelling rituals—they’re like the rings at a wedding ceremony.  We gather, we sing, we read Scripture together, we pray.  These are vital to the life of the body of Christ, and vital to our own personal walk with Jesus.

But there are other rituals that help the Church “play make believe.”  There are two rituals in particular that the Church regularly practices:

  • Baptism

First, baptism is woven into Jesus’ final commands to his followers after his resurrection:

19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

Baptism is something the Church is meant to practice.

  • Communion

Second, on the night before his death, Jesus commanded his followers to celebrate the Lord’s Table or Communion:

19 And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”  (Luke 22:19)

As we’ll see in the days ahead, both of these practices are ways that the Church “plays make-believe.”  I don’t use that phrase casually or flippantly—as we observed earlier, “playing” and the imagination is where a great deal of learning and growth takes place.  I’m actually borrowing the idea from a spiritual writer who targets the Lord’s Table in particular as a place of make-believe:

“You make believe that the one who breaks the bread and blesses the wine is not the plump parson who smells of Williams’ Aqua Velva but Jesus of Nazareth.  You make believe that the tasteless wafer and cheap port are his flesh and blood.  You make believe that by swallowing them you are swallowing his life into your life and that there is nothing in earth or heaven more important for you to do than this.”[1]

We might likewise think of baptism as making believe that we, too, are dying and being raised with Christ (cf. Romans 6:3-4).

WHY RITUAL?

Rituals—all rituals, from the sports stadium to the shopping mall—tell us something of who we are, where we’ve been, where we’re going.  Rituals are part of our identity as a church just as much as the “cord of three strands” is part of an identity as a couple.

Rituals are what help us enter into God’s story, a way of seeing our lives intersect with his.  It’s not for nothing that the Lord’s Table is little more than a shared meal, a chance to regularly remember and re-enact Christ’s sacrifice.

Baptism and communion therefore represent the core features of what makes a Christian Church.  A Church can be more than these two rituals, of course, but a Church that does not perform them cannot be said to be a Church in the New Testament sense.

In the days ahead, let’s spend some time unpacking these two practices, and come to a better understanding of what they mean for us.

[1] Frederich Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC, p. 63.

No “safe spaces:” The role of doubt in the life of the learner

If you’re familiar with the life of C.S. Lewis, you know this man of great faith was also a man of doubt.  Lewis was, of course, a hardened skeptic before coming to know the Lord.  But even after his mind and heart were captured by that great “hound of heaven,” Lewis admitted to experiencing moments of doubt:

“I think the trouble with me is lack of faith.  I have no rational ground for going back on the arguments that convinced me of God’s existence: but the irrational deadweight of my old skeptical habits, and the spirit of this age, and the cares of the day, steal away my lively feeling of the truth, and often when I pray I wonder if I am not posting letters to a non-existent address.  Mind you I don’t think so—the whole of my reasonable mind is convinced: but I often feel so.”[1]

One of the consequences of living in a world of so much moral and religious diversity is that no one belief system is paramount.  What we’ve lost is a common consensus on what is true, what is beautiful, and what is good.

What’s that mean for us?  It means that more than ever, you and I are exposed to a world that challenges the claims of Christianity at every turn.  Add this social pressure to the kinds of heartaches and painful experiences we endure as human beings, and we have a recipe for doubt.

These days we often joke about colleges having “safe spaces” where students can go to avoid offensive language and ideas.  But sometimes I worry that—on an intellectual level—the modern Church has sought to be a “safe space” where we don’t ask the harder questions of our faith.  When faith goes unexamined, when doubts go unaddressed, then God’s grace lies in danger of going unappreciated.  Doubt has a place in the life of the learner, and therefore doubt has its place in the community of faith.

In his recent book In Praise of Doubt, Peter Berger talks about authentic Christian faith as standing opposed to two broad trends: (1) relativism and (2) fundamentalism.  In many ways, we are like the desperate father who cried out to Jesus: “Lord I believe! Help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).  Faith and doubt aren’t mutually exclusive.  So how should we understand their relationship?

 

AVOIDING RELATIVISM BY EMBRACING COMMUNITY

First, we live in a world of cultural and moral relativism.  What’s right and wrong, what’s true and false—these things can no longer be answered with absolute certainty.  They depend entirely on a culture’s definition of right and wrong and what each person decides for themselves.

Many young people—particularly in their late teens and early 20’s—tend to find themselves swept away by the wide variety of competing ideas they encounter as they get older.  More and more they leave the familiarity of the “nest,” along with it the security of their youth groups and their private schools and find themselves in university environments where the faith convictions of their upbringing are not shared by their classmates or new girlfriends.  In such environments, many young people end up re-shuffling their beliefs and values to accommodate their new social environments.

There’s a reason why Paul said that the Church is a “pillar and buttress for the truth” (1 Timothy 3:15). He used a word picture of a building, but Paul, of course, meant that Christian community—the relationships we share with one another—help form a web of relationships that help hold Christian belief together.

While the example I used above was of young people, all people are vulnerable to their faith crumbling (or at least changing) when we are not active in Christian community. By sharing in each other’s lives, we learn to see Christianity as having an enduring relevance for the way we engage the world.  This also means that even if you struggle to share Christianity’s values and beliefs, you are invited to observe the way that others embody God’s truth in their daily lives.

 

AVOIDING FUNDAMENTALISM BY EMBRACING UNCERTAINTY

Secondly, within the walls of the traditional church, there is the lingering danger of “fundamentalism.”  Mind you, fundamentalism started out as a very positive movement (more specifically, a series of books called The Fundamentals) aimed at guarding Christian tradition against the competing views and values of the modern world.  But as time wore on, “fundamentalism” became a much more legalistic, narrow form of Christian faith that still shows up in portions of the church today.

How might fundamentalism feed doubt?  You might think it would do the opposite.  Two of my professors in grad school—Drs. Darrell Bock and Daniel Wallace—were fond of the phrase “brittle fundamentalism.”  They meant that sometimes it’s easy for conservatives to learn things about Christianity without ever really learning why they’re true.  If we return to our college classroom, we might see this in the face of a college student who’d been taught that God made the earth in six 24-hour periods, but that same student has no way of dialoguing with his biology professor who counters this story with the theory of evolution. And so the student’s “brittle” faith cracks, it shatters on the rocks of modern complexity.  Or what about issues of same-sex marriage, or sexual ethics in the broader sense?  If all students learn  is that “it’s bad,” then we have failed to provide them with a thoughtful faith that aims to engage the world.

The solution, I would suggest, is to embrace a certain measure of uncertainty.  I know that makes us nervous.  I don’t meant that we should abandon all certainty, only that we be willing to step back, ask the hard questions, and really evaluate not only what we believe, but why we believe it.  In the end, this can often make us more confident about our faith than when we left our beliefs unexamined.  And this is why Church community must become a place in which we explore our faith and our doubts not merely by grumpily rehearsing answers from the past, but by inviting one another to explore God’s timeless truth as it intersects with the timely issues of the day.

 

TRUSTING THOMAS

When the resurrection happened, Jesus’ followers didn’t know what to make of it, even thought they’d been following this man for three years.  One of the strangest two verses appears in John 20, where faith and understanding aren’t as close together as we’d like to assume:

Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead. (John 20:8-9)

Later we find the famous story of “doubting Thomas” (though in fairness, we should point out that he’s never given that title in John’s gospel):

24 Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.”

26 Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” 28 Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 29 Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” (John 20:24-29)

Here in John we don’t find the kind of “brittle fundamentalism” that some of us grew up with. According to John, faith is something organic and evolving.  What starts in a faint mist crescendos into tidal waves of vivid comprehension—but only after a life of being scraped raw by the rough edges of time and experience.

We don’t need a “faith seeking a safe place;” we need a “faith seeking understanding.”  Sometimes that kind of faith makes us uncomfortable, but it’s there that we’ll find Jesus.  For his followers, doubt isn’t something that we pursue, but when it confronts us we do not flee from it.  Even such a season might be used to sharpen us, shape us, and conform us ever more closely into Christ’s image.

[1] The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves, from The Quotable Lewis, p. 164.

Why everyone’s a teacher

When you were growing up, did you have a favorite teacher?  Maybe a coach?  I’d be willing to bet that even if you didn’t like school, you still found one or two teachers that you could look up to or relate to more than others.

I’ve had several, but one of them is a woman by the name of Mrs. Lemkhul, my art teacher while a student at Boonsboro High.  I suspect not many know this about me, but my original background—even before chemistry—was in studio art.  And it was in Mrs. Lemkhul’s classes that she emphasized “learning to see,” meaning that rather than draw what we thought we saw we drew what we actually saw.

I suspect that if we pause and think about the teachers that we’ve loved the most, this would be their common thread.  Through their instruction we learned more than just sets of information or more than just how to play the game better.  The greatest of our teachers changed the way we see the world.  They broadened our horizons, if you’ll pardon the cliché, and pushed us to walk towards them.

Every one of us is a learner.  And every one of us is a teacher.  Granted, not all of us is a teacher in a vocational sense.  And the Bible even cautions that “not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (James 3:1).  But as we emphasized on Tuesday, the life of a learner is about seeing, doing, and teaching.  Yesterday we focused on the powerful role that “doing” occupies in the Christian life—that is, the way that our habits influence our character.

What about teaching?  You might shudder at the thought.  Maybe you’re worried you just don’t know enough.  Maybe even interacting with your own kids makes you sweat bullets. But teaching others is a Biblical practice and actually a rich blessing.

TEACHING AND DISCIPLESHIP

First, let’s be clear.  You’re a teacher.  You influence people around you.  If you’re a parent—especially a father—you of all people have a role in training your children to understand God and his world.  And, not to belabor the point, you’re going to do that in ways that are positive or ways that are negative. There’s no middle ground.

As a negative example,  in the book of Proverbs we read:

Make no friendship with a man given to anger,
nor go with a wrathful man,
25 lest you learn his ways
and entangle yourself in a snare. (Proverbs 22:24-25)

So here we learn (1) that we should avoid angry people because (2) anger is contagious and destructive.  Ok.  So what about the people around you?  What about your kids?  Do they see anger in you?  Do they see you yelling at the TV during political debates?  Do they hear you muttering when you get cut off in traffic?  Is your temper really your greatest legacy?

If we can return to Deuteronomy, we find that God’s people are commanded to be teachers by inviting God’s word into every aspect of their lives and their homes:

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

Remember what we learned a while ago?  The human brain doesn’t learn information like a sponge soaking up water; it’s more like pouring something into a blender with the lid off.  Information splatters everywhere.  The learning process is about learning to make connections between those chopped-up pieces of information so that we learn to see the whole picture.

Something is at work here, only it’s related to the task of teachers particularly in the family.  Teaching isn’t always adding new information to the blender of a child’s head.  It’s often about helping them put the pieces together, to show them how what they learned in Church on Sunday impacts their life on the playground.

TEACHING AND MISSION

Christ’s followers are also called to be teachers as they serve on mission.  Consider Jesus’ last words to his disciples in Matthew’s gospel:

19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in[a] the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

The message of God cannot be divorced from the mission of God.  To share the gospel is to be a teacher, because sharing the gospel means that we pass on the facts of the “good news” to those who have never heard it (or at least not believed it) and share how it’s impacted our lives.

IT’S EASIER THAN YOU THINK

I get it. It’s hard to call yourself a “teacher.”  The whole thing seems overwhelming.  Only, the thing is, it’s not.

I mean, all of you have passions.  All of you have interests.  What can you do to “write God’s word on your doorposts,” so to speak?  That is, what can you do to bring God’s truth into the everyday?  If you’re a dad, maybe it means spending time with your kids in the garage, or the woodshop, or the tree-stand while you’re hunting deer.  Don’t you think it would be easy to lean over and tell your kid, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it” (Psalm 24:1, NIV)?  You don’t need a seminary background to at least start making connections between the world you inhabit and the world of God’s story.

Even grownups can be taught in a similar manner, when we begin learning how to apply God’s principles to our everyday life.  When our workplace ceases to be a paycheck but a mission field, our attitude and work ethic can be opportunities to talk about how our faith motivates us more than money.

So be a teacher.  Share how God has been a significant part of your life’s journey.  Help those around you see God not just as a character in a book we read on Sundays, but a vital part of each and every day.