(Ir)religiosity

I’ve been reading more reviews of McLaren’s newest book and assessments of emergent, both positive and negative.  And still, I find myself a little disappointed with the tone, the rhetoric and the posturing coming from both sides.  For all its emphasis on “the postmodern” and getting beyond all the old binaries, it seems that, in some ways, the conversation is still beholden to modernist forms of thinking and theologizing.  Or maybe that’s just part of the human condition.

A I lecture attended last night at BUSTh sent me to some of John Wesley‘s sermons (something I’m sorry to say I haven’t done in a while).  I guess I still had these latest developments on my mind because I found myself drawn to “The Catholic Spirit.” I almost feel like Wesley is commenting on the blogosphere. Here are a few choice quotes.

[A]lthough a difference in opinions or modes of worship may prevent an entire external union, yet need it prevent our union in affection? Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without all doubt, we may. Herein all the children of God may unite, notwithstanding these smaller differences. These remaining as they are, they may forward one another in love and in good works. [...] Every wise man, therefore, will allow others the same liberty of thinking which he desires they should allow him; and will no more insist on their embracing his opinions, than he would have them to insist on his embracing theirs. He bears with those who differ from him, and only asks him with whom he desires to unite in love that single question, “Is thy heart right, as my heart is with thy heart?”[...] And how shall we choose among so much variety [of opinion]? No man can choose for, or prescribe to, another. But every one must follow the dictates of his own conscience, in simplicity and godly sincerity. He must be fully persuaded in his own mind and then act according to the best light he has. Nor has any creature power to constrain another to walk by his own rule. God has given no right to any of the children of men thus to lord it over the conscience of his brethren; but every man must judge for himself, as every man must give an account of himself to God. [...] I dare not, therefore, presume to impose my mode of worship on any other.  I believe it is truly primitive and apostolical: but my belief is no rule for another.

[A] man of a catholic spirit is one who, in the manner above-mentioned, gives his hand to all whose hearts are right with his heart…one who, retaining [God's] blessings with the strictest care, keeping them as the apple of his eye, at the same time loves–as friends, as brethren in the Lord, as members of Christ and children of God, as joint partakers now of the present kingdom of God, and fellow heirs of his eternal kingdom–all, of whatever opinion or worship, or congregation, who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ; who love God and man; who, rejoicing to please, and fearing to offend God, are careful to abstain from evil, and zealous of good works. He is the man of a truly catholic spirit, who bears all these continually upon his heart; who having an unspeakable tenderness for their persons, and longing for their welfare, does not cease to commend them to God in prayer, as well as to plead their cause before men; who speaks comfortably to them, and labours, by all his words, to strengthen their hands in God. He assists them to the uttermost of his power in all things, spiritual and temporal. He is ready “to spend and be spent for them;” yea, to lay down his life for their sake.

If you have had your finger to the pulse of the emergent conversation lately I would encourage you to read the whole sermon (it’s not too long) and I would submit it as a modest plea for more charitable and constructive dialogue.  As Wesley makes clear, this does not mean indifference of opinion nor does it require us to gloss over theological difference.  Critical theological engagement is a requirement — but it should be done with a catholic spirit.  And I find that lacking.  In many ways, social media and disembodied online communication only exacerbate the problem but I am confident that a more generous and mutually beneficial dialogue can take place.  And I hope it does.

The best example I have seen of this so far is Nathan Glimour’s review over at The Christian Humanist (also home of a podcast worth checking out).  Glimour raises so of the same issues I have wondered about in ANKOC, namely McLaren’s use of sources and his reading of history and the tradition.¹  But the point is he writes an critical evenhanded review that doesn’t fall into the various forms of rhetorical drama that seem to be popping up.

Emergent has always imbibed a catholic spirit.  I just hope it is not forsaken in favor of various dogmatisms.

1. For instance, I find McLaren’s description of Greco-Roman as a cultural monolith and his casting of Aristotle as some sort of Platonic heir rather than a supplanter a bit dubious.  I’m also beginning to wonder how useful it really is to place a narrative overlay on Scripture, whether it is the six-line Greco-Roman narrative McLaren castigates or his alternative.  What is lost when we circumscribe the entire canon to a singular arc?  Perhaps I’ll post on this soon. [↩]

I agree with N.T. Wright:

“It really is high time we developed a Christian ethic of blogging. Bad temper is bad temper even in the apparent privacy of your own hard drive, and harsh and unjust words, when released into the wild, rampage around and do real damage. And as for the practice of saying mean an unjust things behind a pseudonym – well if I get a letter like that it goes straight in the bin. But the cyberspace equivalents of road rage don’t happen by accident. People who type vicious, angry, slanderous and inaccurate accusations do so because they feel their worldview to be under attack.” (ht)

I couldn’t agree more.  Blogging is at the same time both great and dangerous.  It brings out the best and the worst in us.  I am grateful for the many friends that I have made through this platform but I get really put out with the slander and hateful words that are put forth under the auspices of speaking the truth or defending the faith, or whatever else.  As Christians we have a great opportunity to have rich and robust conversation and to model what charitable dialogue and respectful disagreement might look like.  At our best we do that well, but sometimes we blow it.

I’m here because I want to do that well.  I blow it sometimes too, but I hope to create space for kind discussion and participate generous conversation with others.

The last sentence of the above quote is spot on I think.  People tend to really lash out when they perceive their particular worldview to be under attack (which is all the more interesting when you consider that Christianity does not offer a single worldview).  And the detached, abstract nature of commenting on blog without the dynamics of a face to face encounter are enough to make some people brave enough to type something they otherwise probably wouldn’t say directly to another’s face.

Maybe that’s a good way of approaching it — in the same way you would a face to face conversation.  Either way, I think there is always room for improvement.  We’ve got to be better at treating one another like children of God in our blogging and especially in our commenting.

Inspired by some others, I decieded to revamp my “About” page last night.  It was pretty generic and didn’t really give much insight into my rationale for blogging (partly, because I’m still figuring that out.)  And that got me to thinking about the direction and purpose of this blog.

When I started this thing a year and a half ago it was just an experiment, an outlet for my thoughts, and a repository for, well…whatever.  It will still function in that manner.  I enjoy my work and I enjoy seminary, but I have to have some sort of creative outlet.

So my blog will continue to be that outlet, but hopefully it will be a bit more focused.  Check out the about page to see what I’m talking about and let me know what you think (the comment for pages are closed so you can comment here).

We’ll see how this works out.  See if I can do the whole “focused” thing. (Says to self, “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.”)

In 1786, near the end of his life, John Wesley wrote a retrospective essay on the Methodist movement he founded. In it, he admitted his fear that Methodists would “…only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power.”¹

Many have interpreted this to mean a loss of “evangelical fervor,” that is a failure to “win souls” or “convert new people” to Christiniaty.  I’ve read a fair amount of Wesley’s work and I can’t help but wonder if he was speaking of something much more pressing than escape from present problems, something much more important than the possibility of an orgy of eternal bliss.

In chapter called “Good News to the Poor,” in Theology and Evangelism in the Wesleyan Heritage, Ted Jennings suggests the same.

When do we have the form without the power of religion?

When we develop church growth strategies that target the middle class instead of the poor and marginalized, then we have the form without the power.

When we spend more of our resources on constructing and maintaining Church buildings and property than we do on feeding the hungry, then we have the form without the power.

When we spend more on pastor’s salaries, benefits, and pensions, than we do on clothing the naked and sheltering the homeless, then we have the form without the power.

When we turn stewardship into financial campaigns for the Church, rather than sacrifice for the poor, then we have the form but not the power.

When we blame poverty on the sloth of the poor rather than the avarice of the prosperous and the indifference of the comfortable, then we have the form but not the power.

When we furnish our sanctuaries and social halls in such a way as to make the prosperous comfortable rather than make the indigent welcome, then we have the form but not the power.

When we dedicate Methodist institutions like universities and hospitals and retirement homes to the needs of the affluent rather than the needs of the impoverished, then we have the form but not the power.

When we preach a grace which saves us without changing us, then we have the form but not the power.

Above all whenever and however we make of Methodism a preferential option for the middle class, we have the form but not the power of religion.

As the financial institutions in which have, until now, placed all our trust and hope are crumbling around us and as we see the effects of unrestrained consumer-capitalism unfold before our very eyes, I find these words to be especially poignant.  And convicting.

1. http://deeplycommitted.wordpress.com/2007/06/26/john-wesleys-thoughts-upon-methodism/ [↩]

Another guy who wanted to spread the wealth around:

Contemporary application of Wesley’s advice would suggest that the U.S. Congress should reduce taxes on the poor and middle class, add taxes to luxury items, eliminate taxes upon necessities, introduce laws that govern the use of natural resources, and take steps to reduce the $10 trillion national debt—a debt that has increased by 71.9 percent over the last eight years.

Interestingly, it seems that most Methodists today have completely reversed John Wesley’s “Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can,” statement into a much more destructive axiom: make all you can, invest all you can, consume all you can.