Serenity

People in the West often admire Buddhism and Buddhists for their serenity--their ability to remain calm, cool, and collected no matter what the external circumstances of life are.  This emphasis on serenity is captured in the iconic image so often depicted in Buddhist art:  the contemplative Buddha sitting in the lotus position, radiating a sense of calm and peace.   I have a friend who dabbles in all kinds of religions, including Eastern religions. One of his favorite catch-phrases is "Have no drama.  Be the Dalai Lama."   When I was a kid one of my favorite televison shows was "Kung-Fu" which featured Shaolin monks who showed an almost super-human ability to remain placid and tranquil in the face of impending danger.

But when it comes to serenity and tranquility in life, why should Buddhists have the monopoly?  Why aren't Christians equally known for being non-reactive and contemplative in the face of life's challenges?  It seems to me that we Christians have a tendency to freak out and over-react a little too much.  We freak out about politics, about "social decline," about end-times prophecy, about social issues--the current bizarre national discussion about contraception being a case in point.

Yet if we wanted to, we could know the the serenity that Buddhists are famous for.

• If we really grasped the doctrine of omnipotence, that God really does have "the whole world in his hands" at all times,
• If we really believed in God's omnipresence, that there is no part of life where God is not fully present,
• If we really believed that God is weaving a magnificent tapestry in the world and our lives are individual and essential threads in that masterpiece that God is creating,

We have more than enough resources in our own faith tradition that could provide us with a serenity beyond belief if we wanted it.  St. Paul called it "the peace that passes understanding."    It's a sense of tranquility that comes from an abiding trust in the words of  Romans 8:28:  We know that in everything God works for good with thsoe who love him, who are called according to his purpose.   If those words are true, then nothing that happens in our lives is ever wasted in the Kingdom of God.   Somehow God is turning it all towards his purposes.

Who's In Charge?

Bemoaning the dismal state of the world has been a staple of Christian preaching for centuries.  I guess preachers aren't much different from politicians, the news media, or anybody else trying to get an audience.  We all know that going negative works and grabs people's attention.  Humans love to freak out about things in general.

Not long ago I was listening to an evangelical preacher on TV tell his large congregation that they didn't need to worry about buying life insurance and that they should cash in their retirement accounts because he just knew "in his bones"  that Jesus was coming at any time.  The crowd ate it up.  But it's not just evangelicals.  I've heard plenty of mainline preachers decry cultural decline as well.   It's an old refrain that many of us buy into too easily:   "The culture is collapsing.  Values are erroding.  Crime is running rampant.  The church offers the only hope for the world, etc."

The real story about what's going on in the world is quite different, however.  Steven Pinker's latest book, "The Better Angels of our Nature,"  makes a convincing argument that people almost anywhere in the world today are safer and less likely to die violent deaths than at any point in human history.  He backs his argument up with some pretty impressive statistics documenting the dramatic decline in human violence in recent centuries.  (Yes, he even includes all the deaths from World War II, and it has no impact on the statisical trends towards an overall safer world.)   

In recent years violent crime has taken a steep nose dive in the U.S.    In 2011 the homicide rate in Houston was the lowest its ever been since 1963.  And  Houston is not an anomaly.   Similar trends are being reported across the country.  In the 1980's New York City's Central Park was known as a dangerous place, a haven for muggers and drug dealers.  Today, however, Central Park at night is filled with people jogging, roller-blading, and walking their dogs.

Could it be that God actually knows what he's doing and he's not letting his creation go to Hell-in-a-handbasket after all?   Christians have traditionally decribed God as omnipotent, omnisicent, and omni-benevolent.  Life would be a lot less fearful if we could learn to live as if those attributes were really true.

Or Else...

First of all, my apologies for the long silence.  I've been tied up with some other things which have diverted my attention from the blog; but I hope to be posting again on a more regular basis.

I enjoy watching all kinds of preachers on television.   From time to time I might find the theology a little disagreeable; but it's always fun to watch a good public speaker.   So the other day I was watching a sermon by Dr. Charles Stanley of Atlanta.  He's a gifted preacher and teacher I've enjoyed watching over the years.  It was a Christmas-themed message and he was speaking movingly about the significance of the Incarnation.  He talked about how, because God had come to earth as a human to share our life with us, God completely understands our hurts and struggles in life.   He knows what we've been through because he's been through it too.  It was just a really nice, message.

And then came the kicker at the end of this message about a loving, gracious, and understanding God.  He looked straight at the camera and said that if you don't have a relationship with Jesus, he's going to send you to hell for all eternity.  Believe in Jesus or else...

In so much of Christianity today, there is always an "or else" lurking somewhere in the message.  This is true for both conservative and liberal Christians.   In the conservative world the message tends to focus on personal behavior.  Yes, Jesus is your savior, but you've still got to do your part:  clean up your act, get your life together, quit drinking, quit swearing and stuff like that.  Or else... (This is actually an ancient heresy called Pelagianism, but people seemed to have forgotten about that one.)

More liberal churches often talk about God's "preferential option for the poor."  Yes, Jesus is your savior, but if you're really serious about your faith then you're going to demonstrate that by fighting global warming, alleviating world hunger, occupying Wall Street, and going vegetarian.  Or else...
Liberals may be less likely to talk about Hell than evangelicals do, but threat is still the motivating force in the program. The implication is:  "Get on board with our agenda, or else God is going to be very disappointed in you."

Does there always have to be a threat lurking in the background of the Christian message?  Or could it be that the gospel message is something more wonderful and transcendent than our pathetic attempts to coerce people into adopting our conservative or liberal agendas?    There are plenty of scripture passages which suggest that God's love is truly without restriction and without constraint.  John declares of Jesus: "Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world."  Note that there are no conditions whatsoever attached to that declaration.   And Jesus himself says in John 12:32 "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself."  Again--no strings attached.  Jesus says all people, not even all Christians.  All people. Period.   No "or else" lurking behind this passage.

Sure there are also scripture verses that seem to imply some threat of punishment.  But then if God punishes sin, why did Jesus die for our sin?  Doesn't that make his sacrifical death kind of pointless?

So what will it be?  A God who ultimately relates to us on the basis of threats?  Or a God who truly loves us without constraint or without restriction--not as we should be but as we are right this very moment.  You can't have it both ways.  I'm putting my money on the God of extravagant mercy.

More on Mormons

This post is really a quick response to the questions rasied by Tom as a comment to yesterday's post. (Thanks, Tom, for sharing your thoughts.)

Are Mormons Christian?   Mormons have some distinctive beliefs that put them outside of what most people would consider normative, orthodox Christian tradition.  Such beliefs and practices include:  the baptism of the dead by proxy, wearing special underwear often believed to confer unique protective powers, and the rejection of the Trinity. (Mormons think of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit as distinct beings, which has sometimes left them open to the charge being polytheistic.)  I'm not trying to ridicule or belittle their beliefs;  it's only to delineate some big differences between their theology and mainstream Christian tradition.

Tom is right that Christians over the years have spent far too much time labeling other groups as non-Christian or, at least, not "fully" Christians--whatever that means.  Both Catholics and Protestants have engaged in this kind of bickering over the centuries. (In the 1600's they even held the Thirty Years War on the issue.)  And just the other day a Professor of Religion at Brigham Young commented in a newspaper article that Mormons believe other Christians are going to heaven; it's just that the best blessings of heaven are reserved for Mormons.  And that raises the possiblity that people could experience jealousy and resentment in heaven, which doesn't sound very heavenly.  Oh well, I guess we'll see when we get there.

Jesus once said, "Whoever is not against us is for us." (Mark 9: 40)  Seems like a helpful attitude for us to strive for.

Cults?

The other day a prominent evangelical preacher caused something of a stir in the media when he called Mormonism a "cult."   A few folks have asked my opinion on what is and is not a cult, and does Mormonism qualify?  So here it goes...

First of all, I don't think there is real consensus on what the word "cult" means.  Sure, there's a dictionary definition, but I think in real life the word means different things to different people.  Nowadays the word definitely seems to have a pejorative connotation.  When the preacher called Mormons a "cult" he certainly was not complimenting them.

In my mind, the word cult suggests at least a couple things.  First of all, it's a religious community that relies on a fair amount of coercion.  They use high-pressure tactics to get you to join.  Once you join, the religious community controls much of your life.  And if you try to leave, they make it hard for you to do so.  I have no idea whether this applies to Mormonism or not.

Secondly, cults seem to be characterized by secrecy, especially with regard to doctrinal teaching and worship ceremonies.  Mormons definitely have at least some secret ceremonies, including every ceremony that happens inside one of their temples.  (Non-Mormons, referred to as "Gentiles," are not permitted inside Mormon temples after the buildings have been dedicated.)

Yet, the in early centuries of Christianity, the church made a similar distinction between insiders and outsiders.  Once upon a time people who were not yet baptized were dismissed from worship before Holy Communion.

Mormons have many distinctive beliefs and practices that put them outside of mainstream Christianity.  But I'm not qualified to decide whether or not they should be called a "cult."  I guess my feeling is that name-calling is generally not helpful and not conducive to building bridges to other groups.  Probably the best policy is to try and extend towards others the same grace and understanding that we ourselves would like to receive, and leave the rest for God to sort out.

Giving the Shirt Off Your Back

I sometimes think that Christians are often unduly tormented by the dilemma of whether or not to offer financial assistance to every random panhandler or indigent person who approaches you while you're stopped at an intersection (which seems to happen a lot in Houston these days.)  Even if you choose not to give them a dollar or two, you might experience a momentary twinge of guilt.  After all, didn't Jesus say in the Sermon on the Mount that if somebody asks for our coat we are to offer them our shirt as well?  And doesn't Jesus expect us to "go the extra mile."

Well, these passages don't exactly mean what we often think they mean.  What Jesus really says is: "If any one would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well." (Matthew 5:40)   The cultural context is important here.  He is referring to a legal procedure, probably in debtor's court.  In Jesus' culture when a person wanted to take out a loan, typically animals or land were used as collateral.  But if a person was very poor and had no land or animals for collateral, he could pawn his outergarment.  Since this outer garment was necessary for protection against the elements at night, the Old Testament commandments said that a poor person had a right to get the outer garment back each night in order to sleep in it. (See Deuternomy 24:10-13)   But the creditor could come back and take the coat again each morning, harrassing and nagging the debtor day after day until the loan was repaid.

So what Jesus is basically saying is this:  "When your creditor is harrassing you to repay a debt and asks for your coat, give him your 'cloak' or 'tunic' as well."  In those days they didn't have underwear.  If the debtor took off his cloak in addition to his coat, he would be standing stark naked before his creditor.  It would be a dramatic way of saying, "Here, take it all.  Take everything I have."

Unlike the ancient Greeks and Romans, the Jews viewed public nakedness as extremely shameful--not just for the person being naked, but even more shameful for the person causing the nakedness.  In a sense Jesus was encouraging poor debtors to turn the tables on their creditors.  

These phrases we get from the Sermon on the Mount--turning the other cheek, giving the shirt off your back, going the extra mile--We often understand these to be encouraging us towards generosity and altruism.  In reality each of these is an example of subversive, non-violent resistance against oppressive authorities. 

(I covered "turning the other cheek" and "going the extra mile" in last Sunday's message, which you can see at http://www.theophilushouston.wordpress.com/) 

Updating the Cross?

Sometimes I wonder if the cross is pretty much useless as a religious symbol any more.  It's been so domesticated and beautified that it has lost its shock value.  For the earliest Christians, the cross was a potent symbol of Roman power and bruality.   It was an instrument of state-sponsored torture.  I think the early Christians more vividly understood what Jesus' death on the cross really meant because they literally lived in the shadow of the cross in their daily lives.  For us the cross has largely become a decorative ornament.   When we see crosses on churches and on jewelry,  I doubt that we primarily see them as a means of capital punishment.   

Maybe we need to update the symbol.  What would be a more modern way of depicting the significance of the cross?  A hangman's noose?  An electric chair?  Or maybe a syringe, since lethal injection is the preferred method of execution in most American states.  Can you imagine churches with syringes on their steeples and in the stained-glass windows?  Sounds horrifying, doesn't it?  But that's the point of the cross--Jesus'  love for the world was so great that he was willing to subject himself to the most horrifying and humiliating punishment humans could devise.

No doubt, some might find the discussion a bit morbid.  But if we forget or downplay the extent of Jesus' sacrifice, the good news of the gospel becomes much less good.    That's probably why Paul gave us this reminder in 1 Corinthians 11:26  "For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes."