A few weeks ago, Fuller professor Juan Martinez stated that all theology is contextual. His statement was in response to a question that referenced the importance of liberation theology in the Latin American culture. Liberation theology, in part, is a contextualized theology that strikes a deep chord with Christians around the world who experience deep social and political injustice. For them a theology of liberation speaks to a God who desires to bring them out of poverty and oppression and bring real and lasting freedom. I hesitate to write too much about the powerful school of thought because this short (well, probably really long) blog will not do it justice.
Dr. Martinez’s point was to critique the common idea that liberation theology is contextualized while “Western” or “Classic” theology is not. Just because a specific brand of theology connects well to people in a certain context does not mean it should be considered “less than” in any way. The reality is that all theology is contextualized, whether that theology finds its roots in Latin America, Africa, Germany, or the US. The context always influences the theological discussion in profound ways.
And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Paul was a master at contextualizing the gospel. In Acts 17, we see two sermons or “techniques” of Paul as he preaches the gospel. The first is found in the beginning of Acts 17:
“After Paul and Silas had passed through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. 2And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three sabbath days argued with them from the scriptures, 3explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, ‘This is the Messiah, Jesus whom I am proclaiming to you.’”
Paul is in a Jewish context (a synagogue), and his approach is simple – he reasons with the Jews from scripture (OT) to prove that Jesus was indeed the long awaited Messiah. For a Jewish audience, this message is powerful, convincing, and even polarizing. It is the message they need to hear, and it lands so well for Paul because it is highly contextualized.
Consider Paul’s sermon just a few verses later. Paul and Silas move from a Jewish context to the city of Athens where they soon find themselves in the Areopagus (Mars Hill) surrounded by a mixed audience of Jews and Greeks. Here is his sermon:
“Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, ‘Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, “To an unknown god.” What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each one of us. For “In him we live and move and have our being”; as even some of your own poets have said, “For we too are his offspring.” Since we are God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals. While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.’”
Here Paul doesn’t reference scripture or mention anything about a “Messiah.” Both would be meaningless to the Greeks in the audience. He doesn’t argue or try to “prove” anything. He takes it back to the beginning and shows his audience that there is one God who created all that they experience. He mentions Jesus at the end of his speech, but not as the long awaited “Messiah” but as the one appointed by God to bring about judgment and, ultimately, restoration.
So Paul is a master of communicating contextually. He knows what message will be most effective with his immediate audience, and he presents in that way. He knows that a Greek audience could not care less about the scriptures and this idea of a “Messiah.” He also knows that his Jewish audience doesn’t need to be told that one God created the world. They already know that.
So with that in mind, here’s an interesting thought: Why do we take Paul’s letters in the New Testament to be so universal and in some way above their context? If Paul has proved himself to be a master of contextualizing a message, why do we think he wrote his letters in a very broad and timeless manner? How many of Paul’s words do we take at face value with out a second thought to how his audience would be hearing those words? And do we really think Paul wrote his letters with the knowledge that people thousands of years later would be reading them without the privilege of hearing the voices of his audience?
My point is that we should think a little harder when we read the words of Paul. Knowing that he is a master at adapting his message to fit the people to whom he preaches or writes, we should take pause before swallowing his theology whole. I know, I know. You’re probably uncomfortable with that statement. I guess I am a little too. But I think it’s important that we see Paul’s theology as being deeply and critically important to his audience, and in the same thought, we need to remind ourselves that we are not his audience.
As many of you may know, I’m doing a lot of traveling lately recruiting for Fuller. On Saturday, I arrived in the bustling metropolis of Grand Rapids, MI for a week of recruiting at some colleges in the area. When I checked into the hotel, little did I know what a confusing and somewhat frustrating ride was waiting for me.
You should know something – I don’t often complain about things like food, stores, or hotels… at least not to the servers, associates, or front desk people. I generally just deal with whatever it is that I’m given, whether or not it’s perfect. Don’t get my wrong. I complain a whole heck of a lot – just ask Nikki or any of my close friends. It’s a problem I have, and I admit it. But for the most part, I don’t complain when there’s something wrong with a good or service that I am purchasing.
But this trip was different. I checked into the first hotel (yes, I said “first”) and made my way up to the room. As is my custom, I check the place out, feel the bed, see if there’s an iron and ironing board, a hair dryer, enough hangers, etc, and I always check the water pressure and what kind of shower head is installed. I also see if the room is well lit, comfortable, and if the TV is nice.
Upon inspection of the room (#1), I first notice that all of the lights have those wonderful florescent energy saving bulbs in them. Now, I’m all for saving the environment, but these bulbs are pretty much unbearable for me. They’re pure white light makes the room feel much like a hospital waiting room or a senior center – not exactly conducive for the amount of in-room work I have to do on a trip like this.
Next, I notice there are no large towels. None. I scour the place wondering if perhaps they keep them in the closet or in one of the drawers. There are none. This is troubling, but it’s not a big deal. I make my way over to the phone to call the front desk, and I find that the phone is dead. Very strange. I look under the desk and see that it’s not plugged into the wall… OK, no big deal, but when I plug it in, it’s still dead. I head over to the phone by the bed, and it’s the same story – phone is unplugged and when I plug it in, it’s still dead.
So I walk down to the front desk, explain the problem, and they set me up in another room (#2). I head up to this new room and realize much is the same as the other room, but this one has towels and the phones work.
So I decide to sit down and check my email/facebook/massive amounts of visits to my blog/etc. I sign on to the wireless network, and it prompts me for my username and password (provided by the front desk). I punch the appropriate info into the fields, and I’m told that I can now use the internet… but there’s a little clock running… 2 seconds, 3 seconds, 4 seconds… OK, this is strange. I call the front desk and ask if I’m limited in terms of how long I can access the internet. The answer is “no,” but that I will be logged off automatically after a certain number of minutes, and I will have to re-log in.
OK… that’s not going to work. You have to understand – I access my work computer in Pasadena using gotomypc.com, and this is already a bit of a hassle by itself. Add to that the fact that I will now be logged off every chunk of undisclosed time, and that the wireless is painfully slow, and I’m starting to see that my work week will be very unproductive.
I decide to give up and go to bed. In the quiet of my room, I realize something that should have registered when I first checked in to the hotel, but is only now beginning to become a reality – the place if FULL of young children. They are running up and down the halls, screaming and carrying on. Not good. I get up, call priceline, and demand a refund. I’m leaving this hotel and finding another one.
After about 3 to 4 years on hold with the efficient machine that is priceline, they tell me that I have to stay in the room that night, and they will work out the details with the hotel manager. Whatever. It’s 1:30AM, and I just don’t care anymore. I finally get to sleep, anticipating a fun filled day on the phone with priceline tomorrow.
I wake up, get ready for church (I visited Mars Hill Bible Church… another blog topic there), pack up all my stuff, and head out. I was expecting a call around 9AM from priceline, but no luck. After church, and after realizing that I still hadn’t heard from priceline, I give them a call. 1 hour later and after talking to at least 5 or 6 people from priceline, they issue me a refund, and I’m left to find a new place to stay for the night.
I call my personal assistant (don’t tell Nikki I called her that), and she helps me book a new hotel through priceline (I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess), and I’m set to go. Mind you, this new hotel is supposed to be a 3 star, when the first was only a 2.5 star. Why risk it, right? Best to go with a nicer hotel in hopes that I can avoid the above problems again.
I check into the new hotel room (#3), and after inspection, I find that it is significantly smaller (you can’t use the bathroom with the door open – not enough room) and not nearly as nice as rooms #1 and #2. But, the wireless is fast, and there are no hoops to log on, so that’s good. After being in the room for about 30 minutes, noticing that the bed almost doesn’t fit in the room, my frustration builds. This was supposed to be a 3 star hotel! There is only one 4 star hotel in Grand Rapids, so this is supposed to be among the hotels that are second best! In my opinion, it’s about 1.5 to 2 stars at best.
After firing off a nasty email to priceline, I call the front desk and ask if there are any bigger rooms. There are, and they are the junior suites, but they are more expensive. UGH! I finally decide at least to go “look” at one just to humor myself. They are, in fact, much bigger than the normal rooms, but they are only about as big as you would expect a hotel room to be. But there is a couch, so I guess that’s why it’s called a junior suite. I head back to the front desk, and talk them way down on the price of the room to the point that I’m just a few dollars different from the junior mint box of a room I had at first. Whew!
Finally. A comfortable room (#4) for me to spend this wonderful work week. I enjoy my evening, relax a little, do some work on the significantly faster internet, and hit the sack. I sleep relatively well, even though the jet engine heater keeps turning off and on through the night. I wake up nice and early to get ready for my 2 hour drive to a college, turn on the water for a nice warm shower, and am greeted with a nice little trickle out of the shower head. “You have got to be kidding me.” I try all the normal tricks one tries when working a new shower, and none of them are working. I do my best to shower off, but the water pressure is not quite enough to get all the shampoo out of my hair, and the temperature is just barely over 98.6 degrees. Not a great experience.
I finish getting ready, head down to the front desk, and ask them if the low pressure is normal. They assure me it’s not and a maintenance person accompanies me to my room to check it out. After treating me like an idiot who doesn’t know how to work a shower, he realizes that, in fact, I’m right. The pressure is terrible, and the temperature is tepid. He tells me they will probably have to move me to another room when I get back from my long day, and they will leave a note to let me know what to do.
After a fantastic day of convincing young men and women that Fuller is the right fit for them, I arrive at my room (#4) to find no note, and no fixed water. OK, no big deal. I head to the front desk, and she says, “Oh yes, sorry. I have to move you.” #5.
While packing up my stuff from #4 (I fully unpack my suitcase when I stay more than a few days at a hotel), I notice that my body puff is gone from the shower, and the little brush I use to clean out my electric razor is in the trash… weird, but I just don’t care anymore. I pack up and head to #5, which is full of those dang florescent bulbs! Screw it. I’m swapping them with the normal ones from #4. I also notice that there is no desk lamp in #5, so I have to ask the front desk to find me one. Thankfully, they do, and quick.
So here I am, typing this blog in #5, hoping #6 is not in Grand Rapids, but is waiting for some other trip.
The other day, I heard a sermon about relational issues, and one of the issues addressed by the pastor was resentment and forgiveness. His approach to the idea of us forgiving others was very similar to approaches I have heard in the past – the basic idea is that we are to forgive as God has forgiven us (much like Paul writes in Col 3:13, “Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”).
Most people speak of a kind of forgiveness that doesn’t involve retribution, vengeance, or even an acknowledgment of wrong doing by the offending party. We are supposed to forgive whether or not the person “deserves” forgiveness and whether or not he or she is sorry. This, as most Christians would agree, is the way God forgives.
But for the first time, when I heard this message, I thought about the complexities involved with this approach. The question i my mind becomes: Does standard Christians theology really say that God forgives whether or not we deserve it and whether or not we are sorry? As far as I can recall, our theology says that anyone coming to God must acknowledge wrong doing (sin) before receiving forgiveness. It would seem that God requires confession and remorse over our sin before God will forgive. At least that’s what our theology states.
So how then do we understand this concept of forgiving as God forgives? I see two ways of looking at it, both of which are problematic to some degree (at least in the realm of orthodox Christian theology).
1. Since God requires the offending party to display some kind of knowledge of wrong doing accompanied by remorse before forgiveness is given, we too should require the same thing. If we are offended, we should withhold forgiveness until the wrong is made right or the guilty party shows remorse.
As soon as I begin to type it out, I see the problems with that line of reasoning. We’re human. We don’t get to deal out justice. That is for God. I get that. But how then are we showing forgiveness like God shows forgiveness? This leads to options 2:
2. God has forgiven all humanity of sin whether they deserve forgiveness or not, and whether they acknowledge wrong doing or not. This is the kind of forgiveness that God has modeled – an unconditional forgiveness – and, in the same way, we are to model this type of forgiveness. When we are hurt, we forgive, whether the offending person cares or not.
Options 2 seems to make a lot more sense in terms of the biblical narrative, our understanding of human nature, and the revelation of God through Jesus, among other things. But there are some problems. Are we OK with saying that all people are forgiven? Doesn’t that sound a little too Universalistic? Is that really a bad thing?
So which is it? 1 or 2? Or could it be both? How about neither?
John seems to think God forgives us when we confess our sins (1 John 1:9), and so does Peter (Acts 2:38). But at the same time, the writer of Hebrews seems to think there is nothing more needed for forgiveness other than the sacrifice of Jesus (Hebrews 10:18).
It’s a little tricky to use God’s model of forgiveness to guide our own. It either means the way we forgive must change, or it means the way we understand God’s forgiveness must change. Or maybe it means both. Or neither. Or maybe I’m just missing something here.
I’ve been having the thought lately that we as Christians have done a pretty good job at making something that was once profound, radical, and deep into something that is cheap and shallow. That “something” to which I refer is really a bunch of somethings: it’s the Bible, both Jewish and Christian tradition, and even God. Am I overstating this? probably, but let me try to work out my point here.
Take, for example, the Creation account of Genesis 1 and 2. Most scholars, both Christian and otherwise, see the Creation poems in the beginning of Genesis as the beautiful expression of a pre-scientific people as they try to explain what they see in the world as it relates to what they know of God. They perfectly and poetically describe the human condition – our tendency toward what is wrong or evil – and they show a benevolent and personal God. This is all compelling and radical stuff! If you take a glance at some other Ancient Near Eastern creation accounts (which pre-date the Genesis account), you’ll find much of the same material as the Genesis account, with a few important exceptions: chief of which is the existence of a good and personal God. The Creations narratives in Genesis 1 and 2 are understood as mythology* – as stories that express deep and real truth.
But many Christians see the Creation narratives in Genesis 1 and 2 as a type of ancient police report. They see a real Adam and Eve, a talking snake, and a literal six day creation. What was meant to be a profound expression of who God is becomes a cheap and shallow historical account of creation (just the facts, ma’am). The beauty is gone, and all that is left are the so-called “facts” to argue. Some people even devote their lives to forcing the poems of a pre-scientific people into objective history. How sad! And, in my opinion, how cheap and shallow!
I know, that sounds harsh. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to say these people are cheap and shallow. What I’m trying to do is stick up for the Bible and for what it was created to be and defend it when people try to make it something it’s not – especially when that something is so small. I’m saying the view these people support is a cheap and shallow view. They see the Bible as a report of historical fact.
Think about that. When a police officer writes a report of an incident, no one cares how poetic he or she is. No one is in awe at how completely he or she grasps the human condition. No one is stunned by this person’s knowledge of and connection to the people involved in the incident. All they need to see are the raw facts.
But this is not the purpose of Genesis 1 and 2. What we need to see when we read these words is the power of God through people who interacted regularly with this God. We need to see how well these people understood the human condition and how serious they portrayed humanity’s need for God. They did not set out to record the raw facts of the Creation of the world. They wanted to show a God who cares and who created out of love, and they wanted to show a human race that leans toward the wrong thing.
With that in mind, Genesis 1 and 2 take on a beauty and reality that is unmatched by historical fact. The stories of Genesis 1 and 2 become, as Rob Bell puts it, our own stories. We have the tendency to lean toward evil. We need a good and gracious God. How cheap and shallow to turn these stories into mere historical facts on a page.
*I understand Christians’ animosity toward the notion of myth, especially as it relates to the Bible. But I think myth is something we need to get comfortable with again. Myth is not bad. Myth does not equal false or lie. Myth, in this sense, is a fictional story that explains a very real truth. I will write more on myth later.
For as long as I can remember, people in religious circles have attempted to identify who the modern-day pharisees are. We read the NT, and there is a lot of negative attention given to this group of religious leaders, so much so that they have become more a caricature than anything else. They are like the villains in an 80s movie – completely evil with no depth to their personalities or character. We think of them as constantly wringing their hands, ready to cry out “blasphemy” at a moments notice, and ready to spill the blood of any radicals.
Because of this, we seem to want to project their characteristics on some group of people in the Christian world today. When we come across some strict group of Christians or some other group that uses heavy liturgy, we’re ready with the name tag “Pharisee!”
I also loved participating in Pharisee bashing whenever I had the chance, and would not pass up an opportunity to label someone (and therefore write them off) as being “Pharisaical.” Lately, I’ve been more hesitant about that. This is mostly due to the fact that often when I was so eager to label someone a Pharisee, I was most focused on a characteristic of my own in that other person, and it was this characteristic that I saw as being Pharisaical, if that makes sense. Another way to say it is that I would never consider myself a Pharisee; only others, even if the very “sins” I wanted to label in another person were second nature to me.
I think what might be better is for us to consider how we make the mistakes that some Pharisees made in the NT.* A big mistake we often make is assuming that God is done working and speaking. So often, we assume that Revelation is the end of God’s word – God does not speak anything more. Now, I know most people would not go so far as to actually say this, but I believe most people live this way. Nothing new can be said beyond what the Bible addresses. This is seen in the way so many people hold the Bible above all else – including the Holy Spirit inspired community of believers. It’s as if we think God does not want to continually be revealed in our presence. God was revealed in the Bible, and that is enough.
This is one of the more grievous mistakes the Pharisees made. They could not see that God was doing a new thing. They held tight to their tradition and practices and would not recognize God’s active hand in the world. In fact, they felt so strongly that God could not be working through Jesus and the disciples that they had them killed. Their inability to see God’s continued revelation beyond their own scriptures and traditions led to very serious consequences for those who promoted the new move of God.
How do we make this mistake? Are we ever approached with an idea that challenges us and makes us uncomfortable, and we choose to “put it to death” because it is against our tradition? Do we revere the Bible more than the living word of God and the active Holy Spirit? Have we become so good at “living” and “perfecting” our religious motions that we can’t see God’s revelation anymore? I hope not.
So who are the modern-day Pharisees? They are you and me; or, rather, their stories could be ours if we don’t guard ourselves from making their mistakes.
*I say “some Pharisees” because there are several Pharisees in the NT narratives that were quite noble in their response to Jesus and the early Christian movement. For example, consider Nicodemus and Gamaliel.
Filed under: bible
I write about the Bible a lot on this blog. I’ve challenged the idea of the Bible as a moral authority, and I’ve talked a little about the complications about the idea of “Inspiration.” I hope through all of this, you understand that I value the Bible very much. I believe it to be an incredible God-given resource for all Christians, scholars and laypeople alike. I’m not making any formal doctrinal statement with what I wrote. I’m just trying to express to you that I value scripture very much. I’ve dedicated a big chunk of my life to trying to better understand it.
Some interesting things are happening right now in the “Bible translation” world (for lack of a better term). First, Zondervan is pulling the TNIV (Today’s New International Version) because of apparent “mistakes” in translation. In other words, people complained and they backpedaled (can you tell how I feel about it?). You can read more about this decision here.
At the same time, something very exciting is taking place. A new translation is in the works right now called the Common English Bible, and those involved hope to give us with a translation that provides, “Clarity of language, as in ‘plain speaking,’ a reliable, genuine, and credible power to transform live, an emotional expectation to find the love of God, and a rational expectation to find the knowledge of God.” Read more about the translation here.
Here’s where I think this is especially fascinating: We are living in a world where information is at the tips of our fingers, quite literally. We have access to more data than ever before. We can see in real time what is happening all over the globe. Because of this, we can get a little glimpse into the process of creating a new version of the Bible. In other words, we can see the faces and read the bios of the people who are actually translating scripture. And because of that, we’re confronted with realization that the translations we already have didn’t just magically appear. People translated them.
For instance, take a look at both the board of editors (one of whom is Fuller prof Joel B. Green) and the translators of the Common English Bible. All of them are scholars and experts in Hebrew and Greek. They come from so many different faith traditions and bring to the translations process so many unique points of view.
Think about this – These men and women are inspired to do what they are doing, or at least they better be. They are doing for us what we cannot do for ourselves – translate ancient languages into something readable for today. Talking about God’s inspiration in terms of David and Paul and Luke and Isaiah is somewhat pointless if we don’t talk about God’s inspiration in terms of these editors and translators. Think about that. That’s pretty huge! And it really complicates the idea of Inspiration and Biblical authority in big ways.
“Plain sense” gets a little tricky. “Surface readings” become dependent on translators. “Simple faith” means ignoring a lot of serious and valid questions. Are we OK with that? Can we reject the principles of reason, interpretation, hermeneutics and scholarship, but then so heavily rely on the scholars and academics who must translate the Bible for us?
Think about the process. Whatever version you read, remember that it went through a serious translation gauntlet with many men and women just to get in your hands. Let that sink in. It’s a beautiful thing, especially when you think about God’s inspiration through the whole process.
There are six things that the Lord hates,
seven that are an abomination to him:
gay people, curse words,
Democrats,
sexuality in general,
tolerance,
a person who tries to promote unity,
and happiness.
Wait, that’s not right. Let me double check that on biblegateway.com…
There are six things that the Lord hates,
seven that are an abomination to him:
haughty eyes, a lying tongue,
and hands that shed innocent blood,
a heart that devises wicked plans,
feet that hurry to run to evil,
a lying witness who testifies falsely,
and one who sows discord in a family.
Oops, I was way off! Hopefully other people haven’t made that mistake.
And now, enjoy a funny picture of a baby.
I inherited a jet pack from my dad. It’s just like the kind you see in the old movies – silver with two little rocket engines on the back. The thing is pretty incredible. My dad tells me that you can fly over 100 mph with this thing. He heard so many stories about his grandfather’s exploits with the jet pack – how he would do circles around Philly and race birds and take his wife for rides. This thing is really cool!
Right now it’s hanging in my garage. It’s been there for years. I’ve never tried it out or really thought much about it, but I know it’s the real deal. The stories are so compelling, and they’ve been handed down through my family for years. I don’t have to take the thing out for a spin to prove anything to anyone. It’s the genuine article.
A friend of mine came over the other day, and I took him in the garage to show him my prized possession. He was impressed! But then he had the nerve to ask me if it really worked. “Of course it does!” I told him. I was blown away that such a good friend of mine would mock my family history in such a blatant way. Needless to say, I don’t speak with him anymore. He’s not welcome in my house.
But I can’t say that his comments didn’t make me think. I mean, I’ve never seen this thing used, and neither has my dad. I don’t know what kind of fuel it takes or how to start it. For all I know, it could be made of cardboard and Elmer’s glue. I guess I could try to see if it works, but in all honesty, that’s just too much work and too scary. I guess I’ll just chose to have faith that the stories are true.
Why do we approach theology and doctrine the same way? We have these “truths” that have been handed down to us through the years, and we refuse to test them. We don’t want to hit them with any hard questions because we’re scared they will just shatter – and if one aspect of our faith shatters, what’s to stop the whole thing from being blown to bits?
Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living,” and in the same way, unexamined doctrine is not worth holding. So take some doctrine that you or your faith tradition holds dear. Hold that doctrine in your hand. Look at it. Study it. Ask some tough questions of it. Find out what the critics of that doctrine have to say and listen to them. See if their tough questions are valid. Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. In the end, your faith will be better for it. You will understand why you believe what you believe or you will realize what you believe is not as essential as you thought. And that’s OK. Things change.
With any doctrine or theology, there comes great complexity, and to ignore that complexity and refuse to examine the doctrine or theology is dangerous. That’s one of the things that I would like to do with this blog: talk about the complexities of issues that we take for granted. We always want to push people to take stands on issues – “Are you pro-gay marriage or anti-gay marriage? Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Do you believe in hell or don’t you? Are you a liberal or a conservative?”
Dear God, please help us to be OK with complexity. Help us to understand that you created this world with many shades of color and not just black and white. Help us to be a little less “absolute” and a little more loving, gracious, and connected to you. Help us to be flexible not for flexibility’s sake, but for the sake of the gospel. Help us to stop examining the leaves and start seeing the forest.
Help us to identify doctrine cautiously and with great fear and trembling instead of harshly with no regard for those around us.
Help us to start now.
Time for another rant. Apologies to all. Those who think I complain too much can stop reading after this period.
Still with me? Thanks for letting me have an outlet for my “Christian frustration.”
If I hear or read someone quote Paul out of context one more time, I’m going to lose my mind. I feel like I have read Paul’s list of “who will go to hell” far too many times in the last month or so. You all know the list. I don’t need to post it here. Just read Paul’s letters to Timothy, and you’ll find it.
First, let’s talk for a quick second about context. When someone says “read that verse in context,” they don’t necessarily mean “read the verse that are before it and after it.” Of course this is helpful and usually adds a lot to an interpretation of scripture, but it doesn’t end here. Context all means all things historical, cultural, geographical, related to genre, etc. All of this must be accounted for in order to arrive at a workable interpretation.
I know what you’re thinking (well, maybe I do): “But Jon, we can’t all be theologians or Bible scholars. We have to be able to pick up the Bible and read it at face value. We can’t all read the Bible so critically as you seem to want us to.”
Fair enough. But is this really reality? We all read a lot of things every day. I would venture to say that with everything we read, we are acutely aware of all things “context.” Sure, we may not necessarily have to think long and hard about the context, but that’s mostly because what we read was written very recently and from a context we all know very well.
In other words, you’re reading my blog right now. Some of you know me. You know where I live. You know why I write. You know from what worldview I write. You know my family background. You even know my audience (since I’m usually writing to US Christians). So you already are well-versed in context before you even read one word of my blog.
Why not be this well-versed with Biblical texts? Sure, it takes a little work, but it’s not impossible. There are even some Bibles out there that will give you a quick contextual analysis of a book or author to get the ball rolling.
My point is that we read critically and we take context into account whenever we read something… but not so much with the Bible. We seem to want the Bible to be a magical book that speaks directly into our personal lives whenever we pick it up. We can read six words at face value, and from there, we build doctrine. Honestly, that scares me.
Let’s work with an example. Someone I know recently quoted the following passage from Galatians (I’m being deliberately vague):
I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel— which is really no gospel at all. Evidently some people are throwing you into confusion and are trying to pervert the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let him be eternally condemned! As we have already said, so now I say again: If anybody is preaching to you a gospel other than what you accepted, let him be eternally condemned! Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.
This person wanted to make the point that “liberal Christians” such as Rob Bell, Brian McClaren, and others are presenting a different gospel than the “correct” gospel. Seems fair if you work backwards on this text and approach it with only a surface reading.
What I mean by “work backwards” is that this person, on his own, decided that the message of “liberal Christians” is contrary to the gospel. He then found Paul’s words very affirming to his own point of view, and retroactively made Paul agree with him. In other words, he takes his own bias and uses the text to express his bias.
Rob Bell could do the same thing. He could use Paul’s words to support the gospel he has taught at Mars Hill. He could easily say, “I have preached to you the ‘true’ gospel. If you hear another gospel from fundamentalists that is different than my own, it is not the ‘true’ gospel. Let them be eternally condemned.” Then he could slap down Paul’s words and seal the deal.
But we can’t work backwards with scripture. We can’t take our own point of view and make it the point of view of the authors.
If you take a minute to figure out what Paul is talking about to the Galatians, you see that he’s frustrated that some people would tell his precious Gentile believers that they must first become Jewish before they can be saved (i.e. get circumcised). In other words, some people were adding extra steps to the gospel of grace and faith in Jesus Christ. And Paul, rightly so, is pissed – so pissed he encourages those adding to the gospel to castrate themselves. Awesome!
Then Paul adds this bit about wanting to “please God” instead of “pleasing men (people).” Without belaboring this point, let me just say that he is addressing the Apostles. He has no desire to please them. He does what he thinks God wants him to do, not what the Jerusalem church wants. It gets even more interesting when you go back and forth from Acts to Galatians to see how both Luke and Paul present this discussion around circumcision. Fascinating stuff!
But we don’t get that without checking out the context just a little bit. I’m not saying we need to dive into the Greek or the heavy commentaries. We just need to get better acquainted with the places, people, cultures, lifestyles, worlds, etc. to whom the Bible writers wrote.
If we don’t do this, then we run the risk of making the Bible say what WE want it to say. If we don’t like a certain theological or doctrinal perspective, we can easily use Paul’s words to condemn it. But is that the right thing to do? Is that what Paul is doing? I don’t think so. Paul had a point to what he wrote. He had an audience. He was addressing a specific issue. But we want him to do the talking for us.
It just doesn’t work that way.
The book of Acts is a complex narrative. Let me just start with that. It follows many characters on their journeys to spread this new movement of God through the Roman empire. It’s epic and exciting, through-provoking and humbling. It’s a huge book! But bear with me for a second while I oversimplify it.
If you take a birds eye look at Acts, you see a bunch of people who think they have heard a new Word from God – specifically that Jesus is God revealed, and his death and resurrection signify a new way of life and the inbreaking reign of God. Being commissioned by Jesus to tell everyone they can about this new Word, they set out to make history. Despite stubbornness from the apostles (they didn’t really feel like leaving Jerusalem), this new Word spreads.
At several points, Luke reminds the reader of the great opposition these people face as they spread this Word. It comes from a lot of places, but mostly, it comes from the Jews. Think about that. This new Word from God was birthed out of the Jewish religion, and this new Word, while being connected to that parent religion, is also different from it. So naturally, the Jewish leaders don’t like it and fight it whenever they can. But the fact remains that it is from the same roots. Some would say it is the fulfillment of the parent religion.
But the point is that the Jewish leaders did not like the idea of anyone claiming he or she was given a new Word from God. They were the proud keepers of God’s Word, and to suggest that God was working something new was absurd.
A lot of them became quite hostile to these revolutionaries, claiming they were distorting the truth and destroying God’s name. Pretty serious stuff! But not all of them were quite as hostile. Gamaliel said to his angry associates about these revolutionaries, “I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone; because if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!” (Acts 5:38-39).
So Gamaliel seemed to be open to the idea that these people could be hearing a new Word from God, and even if he didn’t agree completely, he was wise enough to know that if it was empty and Spirit-less, it would fail.
What’s the point? I believe first of all that God did not stop speaking when the canon of scripture was closed. God continues to speak, and we can hear a new Word from God even now. I also believe many people today are hearing a new Word and trying very hard to make it known – but these people are experiencing hostility from the “mother religion”, i.e. fundamentalist Christianity.
Let me be a little transparent here – This blog post is very much a reaction to conversations I’ve had with others who are hostile to the idea that the Christian faith needs reframing. In particular, these people are hostile against the likes of Rob Bell, Brian McClaren, Shane Claiborne, and others.
So what am I really trying to say? I’m not exactly sure to be honest. Since this post is mostly reactionary, it’s hard for anyone reading it to get the idea of what I’m trying to say because it’s very one sided. I admit that.
All I can say is that if you really think that people are not hearing a new Word from God right now, at least have the wisdom to shut up and wait and see if this new Word holds water. If it doesn’t, it will die out. If it does and you fight it, you’ll be fighting against God.
